creepy perverted roommate könig who always stares at you and makes offhanded dirty jokes that are just statements about what he wants to do to you.
rough grubby hands sniffing through your laundry and pawing at his bulge as he takes a deep breath from your underwear.
taking multiple "showers" a day just to relieve the ache on his swollen red cock, leaving him leaky and extra sensitive. cock too hard and heavy to even stand upright.
going out of his way to hold your waist when walking pass even though the hallway is big enough, and rubbing his hard on against the plump of your ass when he needs to get something from the cabinet as you’re washing dishes.
vs.
shy freak reader who’s equally as depraved.
stealing his shirts and boxers to sleep in and purposely wearing them in front of him, apologizing for the mix up then handing him his boxers stained with slick.
rubbing your hands against his chest and back when you sit beside him on the couch. grinding against him as you watch a movie together, your slick heat obviously showing how bare you are underneath the nightgown.
purposely eating popsicles on the living room couch as you watch tv, your tank top showing your pudgy belly as your shorts ride up. your cute underwear visible as you coyly lick at the popsicle.
watching him stare at you before ending up with your legs over his shoulders as he fucks you into the couch. wet sloppy kisses sharing the taste of the sweet popsicle as he pumps you full of cum.
first time writing konig, i’ve got plans for him…big 6’10 plans for him…. or at least several fics. anyway havent stopped thinking about this loser dude. i feel like i want to write more about this reader and konig…
you’d think konig would be a terrible eater, you’ve seen him eat food, he eats like an animal. this once you saw him eat forty one chicken wings in one go, horrifying, and he ate them, licking the sauce off his fingers with his stupid long tongue
he always stares at you with those lovesick eyes, bordering on obsession. holds his arm out for you, lets you nap on his shoulder, you aren’t even a soldier for KorTac, just a humble analyst that gets dragged along for missions. you’ve always been hidden behind thick glasses and textbooks, and now this 6’10 mammoth of a man stares at you like he sees you, and calls you his rose.
you think he’ll be a terrible eater, as he’s kissing down your neck, down your stomach, reaching your wet pussy. and then he puts his big hand on your abdomen, holds you in place, and then laps. he laps like a cat that got the cream, laps like he means it. his tongue dips into your cunt like he’s testing sweet nectar, and his stupidly long tongue has you seeing stars.
“liebchen, that was the nicest meal i’ve ever had, ja?” he says, after you’ve cum twice on his face, coating his lips.
“j-ja, yes, whatever— fuck.” you gasp out, fuck this guy and his 41 chicken wing eating ass who could make you cum so easily. oh wait, you already were.
t141 + könig and their reaction to sleeping on the couch after an argument
—price
when you banish him to the couch, he could be one of two ways—mature and forces you to talk it out nicely or toxic, flat out refuses, and fucks you back to your senses.
the first way, when the words spill from your mouth, his shoulders slumped with dejection as he steps from the room. no point in arguing when you're worked up. after stewing in your anger for thirty or so minutes, he returns—armed with food—and talks it out with you.
the other way, he flat out refuses to sleep on the couch. i could see him manipulating you with the "I paid for that bed, and I'll sleep in it." you're stubborn, muttering something about you sleeping on the couch then, which is how you end up getting your brains fucked out.
—soap
I imagine soap just pushed your buttons way too much that day. you know how he is sometimes—over the top, hyper, and an all-around instigator. he was looking for a reaction, and he found it—just not the one he wanted.
immediately pouts, acting like a dejected child before he goes on to try and convince you to change your mind. real annoying about it too, doesn't give up until you're at your breaking point.
—kyle
the only one that I see actually accept his banishment with stride. he knows he made you upset, respects the boundary you placed with him and doesn't take it to heart. there's also a big possibility that, by the end of the night, you end up talking it out anyways like mature adults.
he knows you needed to get it out of your system, and you serving punishment to him did just that.
—simon
the second the words leave your mouth, he shuts down. you see the moment he deflates, doesn't try to reconcile, and just accepts it. he doesn't want to upset you further or make you more mad than you already are. simon doesn't respond well to domestic conflict.
the second his back hits the cushions? he's tossing and turning. he barely fits the couch to begin with, and you both learn you need each other to sleep—bonded like a pair of cats.
—könig
he's not fitting on the couch, and that's what makes it more satisfying. maybe he was being too persistent about his horniness, hands wandering too far until you snapped and threw your finger to the couch you know he can't fit.
he whines about it for sure, trying to whip you with puppy eyes and convince you to change your mind. he apologizes until you're sick of hearing it, allowing him back in bed just to get him to shut up.
30s-something virgin!König mistakes you for a prostitute when you start flirting with him one night at a club that Horangi and Krueger dragged him to. (The skimpy little outfit you have on adds to this misunderstanding--he's far from knowledgeable on trendy clubbing fashion).
He doesn't say anything until after the two of you have fucked, though, when he asks you how much he owes you for the best night of his life.
To say you're offended is an understatement.
Cue a flustered, awkward, newly deflowered König trying desperately to apologize to a furious you, all while trying to comprehend that a woman was genuinely interested in him for the first time--and quickly coming to an unshakable realization that he is not willing to let this once-in-a-lifetime girl go.
bull hybrid könig was told more than once to not touch a single soul out in the farm, knowing that it'll probably end with needing to tug him away by horns from some other hybrid he'll try to pump full of seed that sits heavy in his balls and making him ache, that was how bulls are, but the farmhand didn't knew the real extent of his true intentions, that his baby blue's weren't even tracking the cow hybrid ladies wandering around the sunny field.
no, könig was more curious in you, a sweet thing that was helping around the area, feeding the hybrids, making sure they were comfortable and clean, that they had everything they needed, stealing quiet moments beneath the tree's shadow when you had a couple hours to yourself, enjoying the light breeze or some book, well, until he started to join you, quite persistent, long tail swishing behind his bulky body, looming over you with sparkling eyes and twitching fluffy ears, tilting his masked head aside with an almost innocent plea — “can i join you, kleine?”
and there's no reason to refuse, really, even if he get's a little bit too needy by sitting close to you, burly body nudging against your smaller frame, wriggling, until he'd look at you with sweetly fluttering eyes and gaze down at your lap, a silent question, a subtle tug of his thick, calloused fingers against the sleeve of your shirt, so you sigh and nod, letting him lay his head down on your thighs, gazing up at you beneath the swoop of eyelashes, listening how you read out loud, as he nuzzles his masked face against your stomach, breath tingling, and you miss out how he crumples the fabric up his scarred features, leaving it stuck against the sharp horns.
it's only a coincidence that he'd have your thighs thrown over the broad stretch of his shoulders, dangling quivering and useless as he get's himself a small treat of your soppy cunt against his warm mouth, eager as he nudges deeper, nose pressing against the swollen bud of your clit, making your body twitch, squirming on the grass as he holds you pinned there, broad palms encompassing supple curves of your body, holding with a force that makes sinews move beneath skin, as he bobs his head, tongue lavishing at your slick dripping hole.
dragging him off you would be harder than any other bull, because he won't still the bruising pistoning of his hips until you'll gush around his fat cock, ushering him to spill his creamy, thick seed against the entrance of your sweet womb, trembling as your cunt holds him in a tight clamp, gummy walls spasming and milking the engorged girth until könig's heavy balls are empty, resting against the swell of your ass as his seed frothes out of your pussy and around his cock, still nestled deep inside as to keep you plugged, heaving and dazed as you look in his slyly squinted eyes.
Creepy loser!Konig, who just can't get enough of you sometimes. Ever since you kissed him, he's gotten more needy, feeling like he's one step closer to sliding his cock into your warm, wet cunt. He just has to be a little more persistent!
Konig has become shameless too, practically sobbing and begging you to give him another kiss, just a little one, he promises he won't try to touch your breasts either :(( Sometimes, though, his weakness overtakes him, which leads you to your current scenario...
You'd just gotten home, keys in the door, when you hear it. The slick sounds and pathetic whines, no doubt coming from Konig as he jerks off his fat, veiny cock. He's there on the couch, tears running down his face, contracting his abdomen to thrust his strong hips up into his tightly closed fist, fapping to some trashy porn featuring a girl that looks suspiciously like you...
You're a little disgusted, but also not very surprised that your weirdo roommate would do something like this. You startled poor Konig when you loudly cleared your throat, making him extra whiney and pathetic, spewing apology after apology, even as he continued to jerk himself off until he came so hard, he almost passed out :(( The thick seed spurting from his swollen tip, landing on his tummy while his thick cock continues to pulse, his heavy balls tightening up from how much sperm he was pumping out, but it was all wasted because it wasn't inside of your precious pussy :(
For the rest of the week, he mopes around behind you, looking like a pathetic, wet-eyed puppy. You'd slap his hand away every time he tried to reach for you, poor dick hard and leaky for you, but you just won't give him a chance!
Konig's even resorted to texting you weird things. You'll be in class when your phone pings, and there in your messages is a photo of his huge cock, thick, veiny, and drooling thick pearls of precum over his swollen knuckles and a dark, thick happytrail leading down to the base. Another text follows after that,
— gn!afab!reader ♱ dark content; noncon + smut, creep!könig, chubby!reader coded, somnophilia, breaking and entering, tentacles, double penetration (two in one), creampie, size kink.
ᝰ 1946 words. for all the octo!könig lovers <3
ⓘ requests / ask box info ◡̈
in a world where people still discriminate against hybrids, you don’t blame your octopus hybrid neighbour for keeping to himself. he’s a towering figure, 200 kilos of muscle with an imposing build, but his limbs move around like it’s his first day on earth. at least, around you, he seems to make himself smaller. he’ll hunch his shoulders and bend down so he’ll appear closer in height and size to you, his voice soft, gentle, and half an octave higher than his usual speaking voice. you know this because you’ve heard him talk on the phone through the thin walls in the dead of the night.
könig is what he calls himself. it means king in german. you learned that after he had introduced himself at your door three days after he moved in with the faint scent of smoke coming out of his apartment. he was trying to bake cupcakes for his fellow neighbours on the floor as a sign of goodwill and that he doesn’t mean any harm as a hybrid. apparently, he’d forgot to set a timer and he was trying to solve three rubiks cubes simultaneously to pass the time.
you don’t always see him—he’s a recluse, only ever coming out to throw the trash or pick up his mail—but he sees you.
he thinks you’re the most precious, littlest thing ever.
he can’t help himself, really. he knows that you’re an absolute darling who would help him without a second thought. you don’t look at him like he’s some kind of monster, always treating him with kindness and the same generosity that you’d treat others. with you, he can relax.
so he’s made it his personal mission to watch after you and your apartment. it’s easy for him to get into your apartment and make sure the locks are secure. entry and exit points are all filed into his brain, but sometimes he gets distracted by the little things in your home. photographs of you when you were little, the flowers in your vase, but his most curious indulgence is you when you’re asleep.
humans are known to be apex predators, the most intelligent of all mammal species, but ever since hybrids have come out of hiding, they’re no longer at the top of the food chain. naturally, it’s his duty to make sure you’re protected, and it’s a bonus that he gets to learn more about you.
you’re so peaceful when you sleep. particularly when you’re stressed or beyond exhausted, you fall into a sleep that’s deeper than your usual ones. one sniff in the air and he can already gauge how deeply you’re sleeping.
octopi are curious creatures, and könig isn’t an exception.
his tentacles would crawl out from underneath his shirt, rosy pink tendrils with suction cups along its lengths travelling slithering around your legs. the salt of your skin under the sweetness of your body wash tastes heavenly through his limbs that he finds himself growing hard from wondering what it’ll be like to taste you directly from his lips.
you have a habit of sleeping in just a shirt. no panties, no bra, nothing to protect you from the elements. many nights he’s wondered how you would react if one of his tentacles found you like this. he inches close enough to sit down on the floor by the foot of your bed, watching how the silvery moon casts an ethereal glow upon your body. you look so beautiful like this, so clueless and so vulnerable.
the plump of your ass is so nice and thick, he notes. one of könig’s tentacles gently caresses and massages them, icy eyes watching with nothing short of childlike wonder as he watches the flesh jiggle.
“beautiful,” he whispers to nobody else but himself. sometimes he can’t really control his tentacles. they shift and move according to his basal instincts and right now, all he wants to do is peel your legs open. you’re lying down on your side, one leg propped up, so he has the perfect view of your pussy.
thick lips bare and ready, with a short tuft of hair right above. he licks his lips subconsciously. his tentacles are already moving without his instruction. two of them wrap themselves around your thighs, caressing the plushy muscles before pulling them further apart to see your beautiful pearl nestled under its hood.
könig doesn’t bother restraining himself. a smaller tendril reaches out, its head a suction-like opening that wraps itself around where your clit would be. another one begins to caress the outside of your labia and he loves that he can taste your sweet nectar without making direct contact with his hands.
you’re just so small and fragile compared to him. he fears he’d accidentally hurt you and he doesn’t want to do that at all.
heat coils in the base of his spine as his sweatpants grow far too tight for his own liking. a soft murmur falls past your lips and you stir just the slightest bit. he watches you with rapt attention as you shift positions in your sleep, legs parting and body moving to land on your back.
your shirt rides up your soft belly, love handles practically begging to be touched. his tentacles are practically celebrating at your new position. they can venture more of you now, eager tendrils slithering up your sides, nudging at the fat of your hips, slinking up and disappearing underneath the fabric of your shirt to reach your breasts.
they curl around the fat mounds, suckling at your nipples but not hard enough to hurt you or jolt you awake. the juices that seep from the ends of his tentacles work as both an aphrodisiac and as sleeping juices—Einschlafhilfe?—that he can’t remember the name in english for some reason. they keep you asleep while your body reacts wantonly to his ministrations as he keeps exploring, all until he spots the glistening of your pussy mixing with his juices.
he lights up like a child on christmas day.
könig’s tentacles slither to your entrance, prodding curiously as if it’s the first time they’re near something as beautiful and fragile as you are. the sweetness of your essence leaves a lingering taste in the back of his mouth, the receptors in his tendrils working wonders away at your body.
he allows one of them to slip inside of you.
he clamps one hand over his mouth to muffle his moan while his other hand begins to palm his erection in his sweatpants.
you’re so warm and perfect.
the tentacle that ventures deep inside of your gummy walls isn’t big or thick, only about an inch in circumference. he’s not a monster—he wouldn’t feed you one of the average-sized ones from the beginning. he eases into you with slow and gentle pumps, the tendril curious enough to seek out your g-spot.
when a strangled moan is lodged in the back of your throat, hips wriggling just a fraction, his eyes flash to your form immediately. his movements stop immediately while his heart pounds dangerously in his chest—watching, waiting—but his cock jerks traitorously against his large palm at the prospect of getting caught.
thump, thump, thump.
his blood pounds deafeningly in his ears as he waits for you to wake up.
you don’t, and he relaxes with a slow exhale. that was a close call.
he slides a second tendril, slightly thicker than the first, into the warmth of your cunt. it’s a bit of a tight stretch, but he’ll have to work your body through it. his cock is larger in girth than these two tendrils combined, and he wants to fuck you. he wants to sink his cock inside of you and make you his mate.
but before any of that can happen, he chooses to help you get used to most of him before you can take all of him in.
your walls are tight and warm, wrapping around his tendrils like a vice, and when a sudden sharp gasp echoes in the darkness of your bedroom, he knows that his tentacles have found the right spot.
könig strokes his cock through his sweatpants as he watches the way your hole quivers and drools around his slick tentacles, salivating from the wondrous yet erotic sight. he loves watching the way your cunt struggles yet sucks them in every time they thrust outwards. they move as one tendril, purposely rubbing into your g-spot with every piston inwards.
he’s enamoured with the way the muscles in your thighs tremble, the way your face scrunches from the pleasure of his sinful violation. soft pants can be barely heard from his lips, hot and heavy against your ankle as more of his tendrils wrap around your body to pull you just a little closer to him.
the tiny tendril that found your clit sucks on it for even more simulation, heightening in strength whilst maintaining the speed of the suction. your body responds so perfectly for him, sweat covering your body in an otherworldly sheen. does it feel good when he fucks you nice and slow like this? maybe he should go a little faster—or perhaps harder? maybe harder. he’ll try fucking you harder.
his tendrils find an angle to fuck into your gummy walls deeper, throbbing with a visceral want and need until he hears a moan falling from your lips. shit, he almost came just from that. in exchange for your sweet moan, he whimpers, placing a tender kiss onto the inside of your knee. he’s crept closer to you now, his chest resting on your mattress while he remains kneeling from the foot of your bed.
he’s found himself pathetically humping the wooden bedframe like a horny teenager but he just can’t help himself. your pussy feels so good, so tight, so warm, and so perfect that he’s just so fucking close.
könig bites down on your duvet to muffle his moans. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s gripping the base of your bedframe to stop himself from rutting against the damn wood too hard. he just can’t control himself, you just feel so good–
his eyes squeeze shut as hot white spreads from the base of his spine to the rest of his body. his cum floods his boxers, too lost in the pleasure to realise that his tentacles have also shot their steaming, milky load into the warmth of your tight pussy.
fuck.
he quickly scrambles around in your room, tendrils hastily retreating back underneath his shirt as he finds some tissue on your nightstand. he carefully cleans you up, alarm bells ringing in his head. he had half a mind to throw his own cum in your trashcan, but against his better judgement, he throws it out the window instead.
he feels bad leaving you like this, chest rising and falling in your sleep from such an experience that he hopes is unique only to him. he hesitates as he stands over you, twiddling with his fingers nervously, before he leans down to plant a quick kiss to your forehead.
he leaves your room and slithers back into his apartment, making sure to lock your door so you wouldn’t be suspicious in the morning when you wake up.
what a thrilling experience!
könig stands in his shower with a giddy grin with the remnants of your slick on the back of his tongue. one of his tentacles slides around him, carrying a small souvenir from your room. he blinks when it registers in his head that it’s one of your used panties.
