Male (subbot) reader, some sort of aftercare, slight feminization (good girl, maus = mouse (fem. term)), squirting, r is smaller + lighter than him, size kink, L bomb + established relationship, scheiße = fuck, implied overtsim. + another round (possible dubcon(?) not really imo), lwk short lol mb, art credit: bokettox_x on insta
YEAH, YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME WEAK, WHEN WE’RE SKIN TIGHT AND THERE’S NOTHING IN BETWEEN ultraviolet, dutch melrose
“Good girl.”
“Ugh—don’t, call me that..” your hole tightening around him tells a different story, despite your words and hot face. His hand squeezes your ass, pulling the cheek further apart to get a better view of his girth spreading you out. Fuck, how does he even fit?
König hums and leans forward, pressing himself further into you as he tilts your head to the side. Contrary to his dominating demeanor, his eyes bleed desperation and need, a plea with no words. “Why not? Hmm, my maus is so tiny compared to me. I love it, love you.”
His lips capture yours in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans at every swipe of his tongue. Thrusts are slow and deep, tip grinding into your prostate at every chance he can get, like it’s second nature (it is). A thick hand reaches around your hip—ignoring your leaking cock—palm flat near your navel where he knows he’ll be and pressing hard.
The sudden orgasm wracks through you with a choked moan, body trembling as white squirts onto the bedsheets below. Fuck! Has all those porno bl’s gotten to your head? There’s no fuckin’ way you squirted—you thought that was only in fiction! You can feel your face heat up from embarrassment.
“Scheiße…” König breathes while slowing to a stop, eyes wide while watching your form tremble from the aftershocks. Could you get any hotter?
“D-don’t get bigger—!” The hand on your hips doesn’t stop you from weakly pulling yourself off him—globs of lube and precum slipping out with his still hard cock—the pressure on your prostate getting too much.
“Little maus,” he muses, a hand reaching out to grab hold of your weak leg, “where you off to now?” He tugs lightly—as if you weighed next to nothing—just enough to pull you back in place and guiding you back into an arch, ass pressed against hips as his red tip leaks. “I haven’t finished yet.”
“Can’t believe I fuckin’ squirted…” you mumble into the fresh cleaned sheets (courtesy of him), eyeing König as he looks away sheepishly, perverse his physique. He wrings a damp cloth out, forcing that image out of his head less he wants to get hard again.
König mumbles apologizes as the cloth unconsciously makes you flinch in spite of him soaking it in warm water. He’s gentle around your ass and perineum, turning a blind eye to the fingerprints and hickeys he’s made, a feeling akin to embarrassment or shame (and pride) at the sight. He can only hope it doesn’t hurt too much.
“Don’t worry, you’ve made me proud.” Almost as if sensing his thoughts, you reassure him. König hesitates for a mere second, cloth hanging from his idle hand as a smug shy smile forms on his reddened face at the praise. You can’t help but grab his jaw and pepper his face with kisses. “God, you’re fuckin’ adorable, how’d I manage to keep you for myself.”
