🇸🇩🇨🇩🇵🇸•She/Her •21•"I just wanna have a good time" •König/Soap/Ghost 🫶🏻 •Please don't mind my english.. • Cuz i'll be there for them with open arm and open legs and open mouth. •pfp and banner are both from Stephanie Priscillia
pathetic konig who is so obsessed with you that he just cant stop fucking you (in a chokehold, creampie AND overstimulation) ? 😛
this is delicious i hope i managed to deliver everything hehe ;)
content: SMUT MDNI, creampie, overstimulation, idk its just dirty lol
Boyfriend König who just loves you soooo much that he can't help but overstimulate you both when he fucks you :((
He's got you face down on the bed, his whole damn body weight pressing you into the mattress as he bullies his fat cock in and out of your cunt. There's a creamy ring around the base thanks to how many times you've both already come, the slick noises almost obscene.
"Schatz… you feel so good…" he slurs the words into your ear, completely drunk on the sex and on you. He shifts slightly, one hand sliding underneath you to angle your hips up, allowing him to fuck you deeper. His other arm loops around your neck, his meaty muscles almost choking you as he pulls your face out of the pillow you'd buried it in. König whimpers when your sweet noises fill the room again, his hips stuttering in their rhythm.
Somehow, you're on the edge of yet another orgasm, your body worked up into a goddamn frenzy. "König! Too much," you gasp, your body tensing up beneath him. He growls, feeling the way you clench even tighter around his sensitive dick, sucking him in. He's so addicted to you, so obsessed with the feeling of you. His thrusts speed up again, his hips hitting your ass with each punishing movement that pushes you closer and closer to your high. You finally come with a high pitched mewl, followed by a broken sob. Your body twitches, your cunt pulsing wildly, every nerve in your body overwhelmed.
The sensation makes König almost fucking blackout. You feel so good that he can't stop himself from fucking into you faster as he feels his own release nearing. "Ah, maus," he whines, biting at your neck as he lets go. His whole body shudders as he floods you with what seems like an endless supply of his seed, his cock twitching inside you until it's empty. You feel his body grow limp, crushing you beneath a solid wall of muscle. Even now, with both of you exhausted and overstimulated, his hips are still moving in slow grinds that have you whimpering beneath him.
Once his vision and mind clears somewhat, he pushes himself up and reluctantly pulls out with a hiss. His dick feels raw - it's been milked dry by you, by his insatiable need for you. König watches hungrily as a smear of your combined juices slides from your puffy, well used hole and drips down your thigh.
That sight alone is enough to make him want to go again, even if neither of your bodies can take it…
Wholesome!König who metamorphoses into the ultimate European Dad whenever you go to the beach.
Insists on picking you up at 7:15am sharp so you can arrive before all the good spots are taken? Check.
Pulling up his weather app at 15 minute intervals the whole ride there, updating you on wind speed, pollen count, and UV index? Check.
A chunky, waterproof watch on his wrist with three alarms set to ensure the day stays on schedule? Check.
Sunscreen applied to every conceivable inch of skin, with an extra thick glob on his nose? Check.
Swim trunks with tiny pineapples that you bought him after the first time he tried to wear a Speedo to the beach? Check.
But for all his foibles, the day you spend together is truly the highlight of your summer. Arriving early to set up your towels, chairs, and umbrella in the right spot was the best move; the generous application of sunscreen prevents you and your dreadfully fair-skinned boyfriend from turning into lobsters; and to his credit, his regimented, Austrian work ethic does turn off once you're truly settled in your spot.
You alternate between sunbathing, walking up and down the shoreline, and cooling off in the ocean. You've never had a relationship this easy - anything you suggest, he's already halfway done making it happen. Plus, seeing his Baywatch body and muscular build on full display fills you with a mix of desire and smugness, like you know the other women on the beach wish they were you.
When lunch rolls around, König sweeps you out of the water and carries you to the towel "so your wet feet don't get sandy." You would be embarrassed if it didn't heal your inner sixth grader, who'd always dreamed of a man so chivalrous.
It is entirely unsurprising that he's packed an incredible picnic lunch, with kartoffelsalat and hearty roast beef sandwiches and those little packs of pretzel sticks kids used to trade in the cafeteria. He also withdraws a small pitcher from the lunch box and shyly explains that he tried to make mojitos, but he's certain they're terrible and, honestly, you don't actually need to drink it, he's got some water bottles under the icepacks...
When you finally wrap up your day, you're relaxed and sleepy and as happy as you've been in a long, long time. König insists that you remain lounging on your towel while he packs everything else into the car. You doze off on the ride home as your boyfriend smiles fondly and turns down the radio as not to wake you.
[Smut beneath the cut.]
He tries to drop you off at home, but you demand he come inside and at least shower off so he doesn't have to drive back to the barracks grimy with sweat, sunscreen, and sand. Of course he agrees - the man has never said no to you in his life, even before he finally had the courage to ask you out - and he turns eggplant-purple when you casually shuck your swimsuit to join him.
You're stupidly horny for him after seeing him half-naked all day, so you take your sweet time lathering your vanilla bodywash into his skin. He sighs beneath the steam of the shower and the ministrations of your hands, shoulders slumping like his joints and tendons finally realized he's no longer in a combat zone. Blissed out and half way to falling asleep on his feet.
But he wakes right the fuck up when your fingers creep lower and you begin to massage his cock.
König loves your handjobs. He says you're unbelievably good at them and he never needs to worry that his size is hurting you - a frequent insecurity of his when you first became intimate. While you languidly work his hardening member back and forth, you rest your head between his pecs as the water pours down on you both.
He makes the most pathetic little whimpers as your lazy tugs turn into proper pumping. One of his hands flies against the tiles to keep himself steady against the urge to turn into a puddle at your feet.
When you tell him its time to wash his hair, he seems perfectly willing to accept that the handjob is over without having come. But when you ask him to get on his knees so you can reach his head, he quickly picks up on what's actually happening: a perfect excuse to smush his face into your tits.
König may love your handjobs, but he worships breasts.
You squirt some shampoo onto his head and begin to spread it through his short hair while König attends to your chest. Sucking, rubbing his face, thumbing your nipples, and whispering breathless gratitude into your cleavage. It's not terribly long before he picks up where you left off, the wet noises of his hand sliding over his cock speaking to something primal in your cavewoman brain. "I'm so lucky," he says over and over again. "So fucking lucky."
It doesn't take long for him to empty his balls, splattering your legs as he leans so hard into your body you nearly topple. The shower quickly washes away the mess as he plants a final kiss beneath the swell of one breasts.
He quickly asks what you'd like in return - he's happy to lick your pussy for the rest of the night, or he could sit you on his lap and use his fingers - but all you really want right now is a nap. There's something so satisfying about pampering this man, who got dealt a shit hand in life but is somehow still the type to fumble his way through a homemade mojito recipe if he thinks it'll make you smile.
Neither of you bother to put clothes back on as you collapse into bed and wrap your bodies around each other. You think to yourself, not for the first time, what a wonderful father he would make. You can picture with ease König's big hands spreading sunscreen over a little boy who has his eyes and your hair.
A goal for next summer, maybe.
===
I dont usually do requests, but I would literally jump off a bridge for @the-californicationist ❤️💕🧡 Thanks for the prompt, Cali!!
summary: könig has never properly orgasmed before, so you decide to help give him his first.
tags/cw: sub!könig . handjobs . overstim . femdom . praise kink . first orgasm . masturbation . dry humping . light d/s . pet names . nipple play
notes: posted this awhile back on ao3! let me know if any cw(tags) are missing! warning: i use a lot of google translated german, sorry if any of it is incorrect.
wc: 3.7k
The mission was a success—just barely. After a narrow escape from death, you returned a hero. Had you not been with your team, or even just missed that final turn, everyone would be injured, maybe even fatally. Everyone on base jumped at the chance to celebrate, eager to turn your team’s hard-won victory into an excuse to get drunk and hit the club. Not that you minded. After a mission like that, there was nothing better than poisoning yourself with a lovely bottle of vodka.
“Ah! There you are, unsere Heldin,” a familiar voice boomed behind you. Already smiling, you turn to him. “König! Glad you’re feeling better, buddy,” you gleam, lightly punching his shoulder. It was rather funny: despite being an absolute mammoth of a man, he was sick the entire mission due to food poisoning. He still did his best, mostly sniper work from afar, since he didn’t need to be moving too much. It was great to see that he is in fact human and not some mythological god; that he gets sick too. And he is quite sassy when he’s ill, for that matter.
Königs eyes crinkle beneath his mask, you assume he’s got a wide grin plastered on his hidden face. “Ja, danke. Look, I brought presents.” Your eyes trail to his lifted hands, they carry four shot glasses filled with clear liquid. They rest between his large fingers, two in each hand. He holds them tightly yet confidently, knowing he won’t let them spill or drop.
You smile and clap your hands before taking two of the four shots from him. Tilting your head towards an empty booth, König nods and follows. You sit side by side, shoulders touching, and knees bumping. Sliding the glasses on the wooden table before you, you realize some of the liquid had spilled on your hand. Not wanting it to get sticky when it dries, and not wanting to get back up to go to the bathroom, you mindlessly darted your tongue out. König watched as you quickly lapped the tip of your tongue against a corner of your palm. It was quick, done in a second, and you met his eyes. Rolling yours, you huff a laugh and explain, “I spilled some.” He already assumed so, so he nodded and smiled.
You always enjoyed being around König. At first he was quite intimidating and kind of a dick, but you accumulated that he’s just a bit shy and would rather come off as an arrogant asshole than an anxious coward. Of course, you’ve never seen him as such, even as he learned to grow comfortable with you. Now he was your greatest friend, comrade, and ally.
“Let’s drink!” You beam. Quickly grabbing one of the shot glasses, you hand it to König, then hold one up for yourself. König clinks his glass to yours and says, “auf ex!” He lifts his mask just above his lips before quickly throwing the shot back. Simply staring, your eyes trail over his now bare skin. The scars that litter his skin, one a clean line across his throat. The light stubble that was forgotten to be shaved. His head drops back down, the fabric of his hood conceals him once again. With eyes studying you with slight confusion, he asks, “why did you not drink?”
Blinking, you awkwardly chuckle. “Sorry, I just… forgot that you actually have a face under there. Or half of it, as far as I know.”
With an amused huff, König looked away. “I am not a monster, Mäuschen.” His thumb playing with the rim of his glass.
You raise a brow, “really? So who was that on the mission with me? Y’know, the one who was being a total ass.”
“Du bist lustig,” he laughs, shaking his head.
Still holding your shot, you raise it to him before tipping your head back and relaxing your throat. Fucking gin. You make a face and König nods his head to question it. “Gin, Seriously? You knew I hate that shit, you ass,” you laugh as you punch his shoulder lightly. Even if you hit him as hard as you can, you doubt he’d be in much distress. With his hands up in mock defense, he shakes his head. “Nein, I did not know! Versprechen.” Clicking your tongue, you roll your eyes and stand. “Well I’m going to get more drinks—ones I like—you want?”
König quickly fishes through his pockets and pulls out his wallet, handing you a black card. Raising an eyebrow, you twirl it in your hand. “It’s my fault you did not like your drink. So I must make it up to you.” You almost squealed out loud before clearing your throat and giving the card back, “no it’s okay. You didn’t know.”
Suddenly he towers over you. You furrow your brows but are cut off to speak when he does instead. “I will go,” he pushes you to sit in his place. “What drink do you like?” You answer, giving him a few of your go-tos. “Warte hier, don’t move.” And he’s off.
Your eyes tail him, watching as he carefully navigates through a small group of people. It’s like he changes completely when he’s around you, because as you watch him now, he seems uncomfortable. Awkward. Maybe even annoyed. Not at you, that you know. Maybe the bartender is saying something he doesn’t like? König has been ordering for a bit now. Finally, he turns away from the waiter, his eyes scanning around before meeting yours. You give him a wink which he mirrors. Though he slightly stutters? He accidentally blinked harshly twice before getting a successful wink. You roll your eyes in a laugh while he turns back around to pick up the drinks.
With new drinks on the table, you quickly begin sipping on your favourite. “We must celebrate you, ja? Unsere Heldin,” his eyes smile at you. You bite your lip in a grin and nod, “of course! But let’s be considerate with these drinks, I’m quite the lightweight. Wouldn’t want to blackout for our party.” König nods and picks up his drink, pulls his mask up, and drinks slowly. He knows you’re staring, a curious little thing, so he gives you a few extra seconds. And when he finishes, he doesn’t let his hood fall immediately, instead he flashes a smile, mouth flush and scarred with crooked teeth, but rather cute. You mirror his expression, and he finally lets his hood down.
You have no idea how you ended up back in your room, but here you are. Flat on your stomach, clothes scrunched uncomfortably, with sweat beads daring to leak down. You sit up, your hands darting around to feel for your phone. Unsuccessful, but at least every room gets a clock. You peer up at it after turning on the light, around two in the morning.
Not even thinking of the possibility of going back to sleep, you decide to just shower and look for your phone.
All cleaned up and dressed in new clothes, you slip on some slippers and leave your room. Taking a step toward the break room, you immediately swing around. You decide to visit König. After all, he would’ve been the only person to know what happened all night. You don’t remember much of anything after he brought your drinks. You even doubt he’s asleep, recalling the time where he confessed he struggles with sleeping, and only gets a few hours a night if any.
You’ve never been inside his room, only by the door when you came to relay messages or converse. His room was a bit more private, farther down the hall from others due to his higher rank. You wouldn’t be surprised if his room was bigger, as well.
Finally, you’re met with said room. But before your fist meets the wooden door, you freeze. Strange noises litter behind the door. You could hear frantic movement as well as sounds of… pain? You were unsure, but a bit alarmed. You had to intervene, right? You wanted to be a good friend and be there for him. You know he would be there for you. Your worries are subsided when Königs voice whines, “scheiße. Bitte, bitte, b-bitte…” More sounds of frantic shuffling evoke before he lets out a quiet sob and goes quiet.
You deem it incredibly weird for you to be standing here listening to him doing… whatever it is he’s doing. Cursing yourself mentally, you turn to leave. But of course the flooring decides to let out the loudest creaking sound. Rolling your eyes, you keep walking forward, slowly to not make so much noise.
“Maus?”
Fuck. You spin around to see his poked out head in front of his door. He has a black tank top on, with his hood, of course. You can’t see his lower half, though. You click your tongue and give him a deer-in-headlights look before masking it with a soft smile. “Uh, hey.”
“Do you want to come in?” He asks tilting his head. You feel embarrassed, caught. Like he knows you stood behind the door for a few minutes listening at the odd noises from within. But you purse your lips and nod nonetheless, “sure.” He leaves the door cracked open before slipping back inside. When you make it in, you notice that he’s putting pants on, and immediately turn to the wall. Feeling your face heat up, you divert your attention to some of his decor, or lack thereof. There is nothing but a singular book on his shelves, that, deodorant, and cologne. Simple man, it seems. “Entschuldigung. I am finished.”
Turning around, he’s right in front, towering over you. You feel awkward, you practically spied on his private time, standing there like some pervert.
“Did you hear me, Mäuschen?”
Oh, okay. You feel cornered. He knows. You know he knows. He knows you know he knows. It’s just a spiral, and you’re twirling right in it. You worry he’ll take it as a breach of trust, that he’ll be disgusted with you and put the walls he let down back up.
“Es ist okay, I am not mad,” he reassured. Your eyes finally meet his again, a guilty smile resting on your face. “I’m really sorry, I just came to talk to you and I didn’t realize you…” With a shake of his head, you don’t finish your sentence. “Ja, I am not upset. I am a little embarrassed, however.” Your head immediately begins to shake, “no, really, you shouldn’t be. I mean, you were in your private room, it was my fault,” you ramble on.
“Nein, it is not about that. I know that I must have sounded… bizarr,” he stutters out. His hands clench and unclench frequently, and his eyes dart all over his room. You choose your words carefully. admittedly being curious, you decide to ask: “why did you sound like you were in a lot of pain?” Maybe it’s a dumb question and has a super obvious answer, but you have never heard a man make noises like that. Honestly, you haven’t met a man who made noises at all, so this all confused you a bit.
König lets out a huff before dropping on the edge of his bed in front of you. You don’t move, just stare at him. “I am…very sensitive. It is not painful, just… überstimulierend—too much.” With his big hand rubbing the back of his neck, his big blue eyes search yours. Maybe he thinks you’ll be disgusted, that you’ll think ghis is too far away from strictly professional. But you don’t pull away, in fact, you bend to sit next to him. You’re curious, that much he can tell. Hoping to answer your question, he further elaborates, “when I’m close, I can not keep going. My body becomes hard to control—too much.”
Taking in his words, you kind of feel sorry for your friend. You wonder how weird it’s felt all these decades without releasing. Or maybe he has? “Have women… or men, not been able to make you… finish?”
König scoffs, turning his head the opposite direction. “Women laugh. What good is a man who is unable to control himself, they say. What good would I be to please a woman if I can not even please myself,” he chuckles. “Ich bin verflucht.”
Before your mind even begins to think about anything, you blurt out, “let me help you.”
An amused exhale leaves him, yet he shakes his head. “Sag das nicht, Maus. It is not your job to help me.”
You shake your head and put a hand on his shoulder. Yeah, it’s a little weird. Maybe a lot. Not him, but the whole situation, plus you offering to help. But why not? It shouldn’t be too hard, right? “I really wouldn’t mind. I would never judge you either.”
He takes a moment. Two moments. Three. Then he nods. “Okay, w-we can try.”
Smiling, you nod and stand up in front of him. “Lay down on the bed.” He obliges, and you take the moment to pull off your sweatshirt. Now simply wearing a tank top and sweat-shorts. Your nipples poke through the thin fabric, instantly grabbing Königs attention. His eyes jumped from your peaks to your eyes over and over before he clears his throat. “So… what now?”
“I want to see what happens when you do it to yourself.”
He stills momentarily, a nervous laugh peeling from him. “I told you…” Embarrassment floods his eyes, as he grows vulnerable before you.
Shrugging, you move to straddle his thighs, just missing his half-hard erection. Or maybe he isn’t hard at all, and is just that big. Who knows. Königs eyes trace your hips around him, his arms glued to his sides. “How can I figure out how to help if I don’t know exactly what the problem is? Unless you don’t want my help?”
Shaking his head, he refuses and quickly assures, “nein, I am happy you want to help. But to do what you ask I need to be… erregt.” You nod and scooched closer until you sit right onto his member. He lets out a huff at your actions before hesitantly lifting his hands to wrap around the sides of your waist. Big and rough, the bare skin seeps warmth into your body. You both move slowly in all your actions, treating this situation as a live science experiment that could potentially blow up in your faces.
Leaning in closer, you carefully pull his hood up just at his nose. He allows you, though his body stiffens slightly. Big blue eyes analyze your face meanwhile, watching how carefully you touch him. With his lips now bare, you stare at them shamelessly, and lick your own. His eyes follow your pink muscle darting out to wet your lips. “Imagine I’m a pretty girl that you want to have sex with, that should help get you… going.” Your eyes meet his for a second before you lean down and meet his lips. It’s gentle, slow, and testing. Though not chapped, his lips feel a lot more rough against yours, scarred skin shifting against your smooth one. His fingers slightly shift up and down against your waist and hips, spreading warmth. Letting out a soft sigh, you pull away.
“You are a pretty girl,” he mumbles. You watch his lips as the words leave, seeing his sharp canines poke out. What he said starts a flutter of softness inside you, your pulse slightly fastening. You feel a bit flustered, so instead of responding you just meet his lips again.
This time, he seems a little more needy. Instead of the slow tempo you had set moments before, he moves faster now. His tongue darts into your mouth to explore, which you allow. Meanwhile, you slide your arms to grab his hands, bringing and placing them onto your clothed breasts. He freezes fully for a second before his hands hesitantly squeeze your flesh. Still connected by mouths, you let out a soft moan. This causes König to squeeze again before simply kneading and toying with your breasts.
Slowly, you start to grind back and forth on him. To stimulate him, but also yourself. With just that one slide of friction, König let out a moan with a buck of his hips. Shit, he wasn’t lying when he said he was sensitive. You move again, pressing down harder against him. Whimpering, he pulls away from your lips to catch air. You freeze, allowing him to calm down. His fingers toy with your nipples through the fabric, pinching and rolling the hard buds. He feels impossibly solid beneath you, so you ask, “you think you’re ready now?”
Quickly, he nods. You stand up and begin to pull down his pants as well as his boxers. As his cock springs out, your eyes grow wide. Thick, long, and wet. With a swollen red tip and pale veined skin, it stands tall before hitting Königs stomach. Clearing your throat in attempt to pull yourself out of your trance, you go back to straddle his thighs. From this position, you can basically see how far into you his dick would go, and it sends butterflies thrashing through you.
”Okay, go on,” you instruct. König obliges, his hand wrapping around himself before you. He already lets out a whine. Fingers squeezing himself tightly while he runs his hand from the tip to base. His legs shift a lot under you, tensing and twitching. With eyes glued to your chest, you decide to go a bit further for him. Slipping out of your tank top, you sit half-naked on him. “Scheiße, so schön, Maus,” he moans.
With his hand pumping himself quickly, he already feels his orgasm building. His body starts to spasm, his back arching, hips bucking, and arms straining. The noises he makes are pathetic, whimpering and sobbing as pleasure engulfs him. “You’re doing so good, keep going,” you encourage. He whines at your words, his mouth resting agape.
“No. Nein—too much,” he moans as he reaches his peak, he suddenly lets go of himself as his body twists and turns. His arms move to grip the bed frame behind him, his knees bend, and he tries to fold himself completely. Sounds of sobbing mixed with whimpering leak out of him while he tries to calm down. Instead of ejaculating like he had needed, more pre-cum spit out of his pulsing tip.
As much as you feel bad, you can’t help but drink in the sight before you. A mammoth of a man whining and moaning because he can’t make himself cum. Instead of relishing your newfound desire, you comfort him. “It’s okay, I’ll help you.”
Finally calm, König stretches out his limbs once again, and meets your eyes. “Please,” he whispers, his pink lips pursing. His hands squeeze at your thighs before running up and down your hips. With big doe eyes staring at you, you smile softly.
Slowly, your hands trace his inner thighs lightly. It causes goosebumps to form on his pale skin, prickled hairs sticking up. “Bitte, no teasing,” he pleads. You shift to sit beside him, rather than on his thighs. “You’re gonna be okay, just let me take care of you,” you soothe before promptly wrapping your hand around his dick. He moans, hands shifting all over to find something to hold before grabbing the pillow under him. “Try not to move so much, I know it’s hard. Just try your best.” He nods, “ja, o-okay.” Gripping the pillow, he lets his head fall back and his eyes screw shut. His body still twitches and shuffles, but not as much. His hips, however, still buck rather wildly.
You run your hand up and down his length, circling your thumb on his tip when you reach it. You didn’t even need any lubrication as he’s been leaking this whole time. “Good boy,” you coo, “you’re doing so well.” You stop moving your hand, instead allowing him to thrust into it on his own. Shuddering and shivering, he whimpers. “Bitte, ich brauche mehr,” he mutters. You watch as his still revealed lips part and his teeth sink down into it. His thrusts grow messy as his legs move frantically and randomly. So, you begin moving your hand again, this time at a much more rapid pace.
König almost screams, a sound of a sob-like moan leaving him instead. His body contorts as if he was trying to pull away from you, fight you. You weren’t planning on stopping, though, eager to give him what he needs. His arms tighten around the pillow while he moans. “Ich kann nicht. Bitte hör auf,” he stammers.
You can tell he’s close now; his eyes rolling back before screwing shut. Lips going from being bit, to licked, to tightened. His whole body twitching, shuddering, and shivering at every passing second. And the sounds he’s making, god, you can practically feel what he is.
You whisper praise after praise into his ear.
”You can do it.” “You’re being so good.” “Such a pretty cock.” “Good boy.”
Finally, you can tell he’s at the same point he was earlier, before he stopped and practically edged himself. His body jolting over and over, trying its hardest to get away from you. Sobs leaking out of him as he begs you to stop. “Es ist zu viel, bitte hör auf. Bitte—Bitte! Too much!”
You sped up, squeezing tighter as you pumped his length. Your other hand reached under to fondle his sack, earning a yelp from him. “Let go. You can do it, it’s okay. Cum for me.”
With eyes rolling back, mouth agape, and arms suffocating his pillow, he obliges. His hips buck up wildly, his back arching, he lets go. “Oh, yeah—Scheiße,” he moans. Rope after rope of hot white fluid spurts out of him. His head thrashes left and right as he rides out his orgasm. When it’s over, he lays still and spent, breathing wild and eyes heavy. His arms loosen and his legs flop down.
You quickly let go of his softening penis, “good boy. You did so well, I’m so proud of you.”
König lets out a sigh and turns his head to you. Softly, he presses his lips against yours. Swollen and warm, they move slowly. Leaning in closer, you hold his jaw in your hands, tracing your thumb back and forth on the scarred skin.
Pulling away, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, lingering. ”Thank you, mein Schatz.”
✩ how you became könig’s penpal and how he fell in love with you
✩ please like and reblog if you enjoyed! if this gets enough support, i’ll make it into a series!
✩ it all started when your therapist suggested ways to overcome your social anxiety
✩ you've always been terrified of social situations, constantly afraid of being judged and humiliated by others.
✩ you'd dread events for weeks, going through every scenario in your head where things could go wrong, turning every social event into a disaster before it had even begun.
✩ and when you're actually there? the disaster becomes true.
✩ you tremble and stutter through conversations while avoiding eye contact at all costs
✩ eventually, your nausea and your racing heartbeat becomes too much, and you escape to either run home or have a panic attack, whichever one comes first.
✩ even then, there's no salvation: you reflect on every moment, noting every single cringeworthy detail, creating your own punishment that was personally designed to render your self-esteem non-existent.
✩ it's so embarrassing…
✩ after months of isolating yourself, staying home instead of going outside and humiliating yourself again, you get online therapy sessions.
✩ the therapist suggests a way to start talking to people again: a penpal program organised by the army where you send a soldier a letter.
✩ she said the letters would be less stressful than in-person or online conversations since there was no pressure to respond immediately
✩ a soldier? seriously?!
✩ telling a soldier, who risks their life every day, that you get a panic attack talking to strangers?
✩ your dignity would crumble to dust!
✩ what you didn't know was that that there was an awkward austrian soldier who perfectly understood your struggles.
‘Hi,’
✩ no - too casual…
'Hello,’
✩ better. to whom it may concern? far too formal. just a simple 'hello' will do.
✩ you introduce yourself and write how you hope they're ok. actually, that's too friendly.
‘I hope this letter finds you well’
✩ that's good... what next? should you talk about yourself? what do you say? should you mention the social anxiety? no way - that's too personal for the first letter. you’re strangers, so just keep it surface level.
✩ you write about how you saw an advert for the penpal program and decided to join. a lie, but there's no need to tell the truth yet.
✩ you write that you appreciate the work that they do even though you don't fully know what it entails. that's true, at least.
✩ you think about what you could say about yourself.
✩ your life isn't exciting - you've spent months at home doomscrolling and watching tv.
✩ that's it! you could talk about what television shows and movies you like! wait, would they even have time to watch stuff?
✩ maybe on their time off! yes! plus, even if they don't, it gives you more to talk about! you’re a genius!
✩ you write about your viewing habits and get into a flow, giving your opinions and personal recommendations. you ask if they get to watch much, or if they prefer other hobbies, which smoothly transitions into a short paragraph about your own hobbies.
✩ it’s short since you can only do so much from your own home, but again, there's no need to mention that yet.
✩ alright, this is going great! now, how to sign it off?
‘I hope to hear from you soon,’
✩ sounds too eager... puts pressure on them to write back as well...
'There's no pressure to respond. I can imagine how busy your work can get, so it's ok if you don't have time to write back.
All the best,'
✩ you write your name and triumphantly slam your pen down on your desk with a grin big enough to be seen from space
✩ you read through your letter before carefully folding it and delicately sliding it into an envelope. you write the envelope, stick a postage stamp in the corner and send that bad boy!
✩ you’re on cloud nine for a while after that. however, after a month goes by with no reply, your anxiety rears its annoying, ugly head.
✩ what if your handwriting was too messy? what if they found you embarrassing? what if they laughed at your letter and threw it in the bin? what if they showed the letter to their army comrades and laughed at it together?
✩ why did your therapist suggest doing this? this is TORTURE!
✩ on the other side of the world, however, a supremely tall soldier curls himself onto his cramped army bed and reads your letter over and over with a smile that grows every time he reads it.
✩ he promptly opens up his notebook and flips to a blank page to start writing his reply:
'Hello,
My name is König...’
✩ i had to type all this out again bc tumblr ate the original post! :)
✩ i tried to give the reader more personality, i hope that comes through in the writing!
✩ again please like and reblog if you enjoyed! i really appreciate your support <3
All he wanted was some attention. Some quality, undivided attention that made him feel chosen. Like he wasn’t a chore or some unwanted obligation. He begged and begged and begged for just a sliver of time and sure he would get it but he could tell it was forced or the other person wasn’t really into it and he was left feeling even worse than before.
Maybe that’s why he held on to you so strongly. You seemed so genuine to him, never complaining or cutting your time together short. It was rarely anything other than platonic or the occasional hug but König was pretty sure he was in love. You’d given him a nickname, “big baby”. It was just a joke, started when you saw his eyes getting all watery after you hugged for the first time. You laughed and held his face, asking “why are you crying, you big baby? It’s just a hug.”
He started following you around wherever you went, like a massive shadow looming over you. And he insisted on holding your hand saying he didn’t want to get separated. Poor thing couldn’t even think of a believable lie, he was so desperate. You would have been happy even if he didn’t say anything and just held your hand. Most of the time you’d have to speak for him, his nerves and social anxiety making him quieter than a cotton ball falling on carpet.
Sometimes you would let him sleep in your room, only fussing at him for being too big so you had to use him as a bed. It wasn’t too bad, he was warmer than all your blankets combined and you ran cold. There was one time where he woke you up in the middle of the night and even in the dark, you could tell he was holding on by a thread trying not to cry.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
“Liebling, I am sorry. But- uh…” he hesitates, trying to carefully shift you off of him without being too obvious. “I have to fix something.”
You let out a small squeak of confusion when your body hits the bed and you hear him shuffle off to the bathroom and lock the door. You drift off again then wake up after some unknown amount of time to find yourself still in an empty bed and the sounds of König mumbling to himself in the bathroom. You slowly get up, yawning as you go to check on him.
“You alright in there? Come back t’bed…” you groan as you lean your forehead against the door. On the other side, König scrambles to fix himself before opening the door and causing you stumble into him. You look up wanting to be mad at him and suddenly feel very awake when you see his cheeks wet with tears. “Huh? What’s going on with you? Ya big baby.”
You instantly soften up and reach up to wipe his cheeks. Your hands go down and he shudders when they run over his torso. He licks his lips and looks down at your hands, making you follow his gaze and- oh.
“Das.” He says lowly and your eyes are hyper focused on the painful looking bulge in his sweats. The pants weren’t tight by any means but you could just see how hard he was and judging by the wet patch where his tip was, it was evident he’d been having trouble.
You take a slow breath before reaching down and stroking him through the fabric, causing him to flinch and shudder under your touch. Your throat suddenly goes dry when it twitches in your hand and you feel just how heavy it is. He whimpers above you and clenches his fists, trying so hard not to cum in his pants. He hadn’t expected to get so close so quickly when he couldn’t get himself there after ten minutes of trying.
He has to grab your wrist to stop you before he ended up making even more of a mess in his pants and you look up at him. Aside from looking so incredibly guilty, he was very much in desperate need of more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be…”
“Don’t. Lay down for me, okay?” Your voice is softer than his and you take him back to bed, straddling him once he’s down. Truth be told you had no idea what you were doing but you assumed he didn’t either so it’s not like he’d realize it, right? You settle right on his bulge, breath catching in your throat as you slowly grind your hips back and forth and pull out a pitchy moan from König.
You let out some breathy sounds of your own and lose yourself in the feeling until his hands grab you and lift your hips up just enough to not be on him anymore. You stop and look at him, silently asking why.
“Can we…is it okay if I’m inside you?”
Your heart begins racing but you nod, getting off him to take your bottoms off while he removed his. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you could actually see his big he was and you keep staring as you get back on top.
“You sure that’s gonna fit?”
“It’s gonna have to.”
His hand travels between your legs and shakily begins to finger you to try and get you ready to take him with as little discomfort as possible. You were a moaning mess above him, and he kept hissing out curses as he watched more of your arousal flow onto his hand with each pump of his fingers. It was easy to get you to cum and once your walls relax enough, he pulls his fingers out and helps you line yourself up with his cock.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” You suddenly blurt out, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms just as he pushes the tip in. He meets your eyes and blinks.
“Was? Do you- do you not want to do it with me?” He asks and his eyes start welling up again. He almost lifts you off but you stop him, sinking down a bit lower.
“No. No I do, it’s just…you’re so big, I don’t know that I can take it.”
König’s whole body relaxes and he carefully turns over so now you were the one under him. “Nonsense, Liebling. I got you, ja?”
You nod, thrown off by the sudden change in demeanor. The change from his usual anxious self to how he calm and collected he was on ops in a split second was a bit jarring but who were you to question it? He slowly leans down and kisses you to muffle the sounds coaxed out of you as he slowly, slowly pushes himself into you. First the tip which already had you squirming and then about half way you were clawing at him trying not to go over the edge.
“König, I-“
“Hey shhh, you’re okay.” He mumbles against your lips. His hands grip your waist tighter as he thrusts the rest of himself in with a grunt and for a split second he’s back to his normal self with another whimper. “Schieße, you’re so- oh my god.”
You barely had any time to process anything going on or react because two pumps in and he was already unloading inside you. You stare at each other while he comes down from his high and you can see the look in his eyes change.
“I’m sorry.” He whines and his hands move up to your shoulders as his hips begin to move again, this time lacking any real rhythm to them. He was still hard and grinding against every inch of your cunt deliciously. He then buries his face in your neck and you feel hot tears against your skin. “Ja. Ja, ja, ja, ja, oh- shit.”
He cums a second time, now with your walls clamping down on him when your release finally arrives. You squeeze and squeeze, making him twitch and grip your shoulders harder as you milk him for everything he has. He pulls out only to lay you on your side so he can get behind you and stick his cock back in.
“I need more, Liebling. I’m sorry, I just need more.” He mutters sleepy apologies into the pillow as he begins to soften inside of you, and proceeds to fuck you awake three more times that night without changing position.
König whose cock is so big- so long, unbelievably fat and heavy- that he can't fit it inside you. He can spend hours fucking your pussy open on his tongue and fingers and it just isn't enough.
Instead, he works just the head inside, so you can clench down on it, thighs open around his lap as you kneel over him, a little vibe in your fingers for your clit, and he strokes himself off as you use the tip of his cock like a plug, thighs trembling, braced against his chest and groping a heavy fat pec while you moan.
The first time you come on him he moans, jerking himself harder with the slick you squeeze down his cock, and watches with his lips parted and panting as you circle your clit with the vibe and turn it up, pushing your orgasm further, so that you shudder and moan into another, and another- fluttering pussy on the head of his cock and the buzzing vibe, your skin heating and so soft against his, a mutual masturbation that feels more intimate than any attempt he's made to force his cock into a wet hole-
He comes with a groan and his hips buck up, pushing against you, his cockhead slipping free to pump cum all over your fingers and clit, the vibe slipping back and forth, and you shout and come a final time as your hips jerk and flutter.
Howdy y'all! 👋 I'm not dead but was just dealing with freaking life.
TW: American Reader lol
Anywho, I had this idea earlier today, but I had work, so I wasn't able to write it. But with all the hubbub around the world cup and Europeans going to America and experiencing it for the first time, I had a small but kinda cute idea >:3
Imagine FoodServiceWorker!Reader, living a pretty average life. You work in a local but thriving restaurant in your hometown, making a pretty good living (unrealistic, I know) BUT, it's enough for you to get by, and you make quite a lot in tips, and with the World Cup playing, lots of people are packing in to watch on the TVs aet up around the dining area and the bar top. You, yourself, have never really been into sports like that, but you've seen videos of Europeans experiencing America for the first time, and you can't help but feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, seeing people from around the world come together.
Imagine König walking in one day, the massive man immediately catching the attention of all the servers, yourself included. He stands there for a bit awkwardly, almost like he's never been in a restaurant in his life. The restaurant has an open seating for customers, so after grabbing a menu and approaching the giant with a warm, friendly smile, you guide him over to your section, and there he picks a cozy booth near the back, within comfortable viewing of the TV, which is playing the World Cup of course.
You suspect that he isn't from around, since you've never seen him before, but his accent is also a dead giveaway. You ask if he's new, and he nods, telling you he's visiting for the World Cup. You smile, ask how his visit has been, and he goes on to tell you of all the different things he's experienced while in America, good and bad, which earns a small chuckle from you.
He probably spends maybe an hour, an hour and a half in the restaurant, trying new foods and watching the game. It gets rowdy as the teams on screen score goals, but the overall atmosphere of the place is good and in high spirits. As you continue to serve König, you tell him of other hidden gems you know of as a local, and you cheekily offer to be his tour guide. He shakes his head softly, and you can almost see the way his cheeks turn pink.
At the end when he leaves, he leaves a generous tip, as well as his phone number under the tip line <3
And what if I said Popular!Reader is actually the smartest person in your and König's class? What if I said you didn't need König to do your homework for you, or cheat off of him on tests. You just come up with your little deal because you think the big, scary loser is actually kind of cute, in a pathetic way... and you like the power you have over him. You like that he'll do anything just to get a glance at your tits, just to cop a quick feel. You bet you could get him to kill a man for you, if you let him fuck you.
There's nothing more arousing to you, the way you're in complete and utter control of him.
Roommate!König overhearing you on the phone with a friend. he feels embarrassed accidentally eavesdropping until you bring him up, all but fainting when he hears you say you think he’s cute. heart beating erratically as he manages to stumble away quietly into his room, all he can bring himself to do is stare at the ceiling while laying in the dark, flushed from the neck up. if he felt guilty eavesdropping, the guilt surrounding the hard-on he’s rocking might send him to an early grave as he desperately tries to ignore it
smitten!konig taking off your dress after a late night party. his trembling fingers unlacing the thick strings that tie in the back, exhaling heavily when his hand can smooth down your bare back. he’s between your legs, leaning down to press a kiss to your clothed crotch. he slowly slides off the dress so it doesn’t ruin, but he presses his forehead against your stomach so he doesn’t immediately bust in his boxers seeing you undress.
Konïg!babygirl @konig-breedme - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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