#though granted it doesn’t have to be
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My brain now wants a story where Optimus and Megatron, during the war, basically get abducted by other aliens (let’s say the Quintessons or something), and basically the rest of the story is them trying to escape, survive, and make their way back to Cybertron, encountering a severe number of inconveniences along the way. They’re also forming a temporary alliance because they realize pretty quickly that they’re both out of their depth here individually and have to team up to survive
But like it gets to the point where by the time they finally get back to Cybertron, they’re basically just like “oh right, the war. Yeah how about we just call it off” because they’ve gone through so much shit together they just don’t really have it in them to fight each other anymore
Honestly it’d probably have to be relegated to fanfic format due to the only Transformers in this story, outside of maybe a few brief appearances, being Optimus and Megatron. Not unless you give everyone else back on Cybertron something else to do, or have this story between them be the side plot
#it started off as Transformers One them bc I’m fairly certain they’ll team up to fight the Quintessons#though granted it doesn’t have to be#also in my brain they probably go through some design changes#Optimus might have had Megatron’s arm stitched on to him and vice versa#also I’m imagining Megatron sacrificing himself to save Optimus and potentially the rest of Cybertron#but Optimus being like “not on my watch” and managing to at least get his spark chamber out of there#so he’s still alive but he’s literally only his spark now#so later on they need to find some workaround and Megatron probably gets a whole new body by the end of it#they finally get back to Cybertron and they are completely different#both in character and definitely body#I don’t know#Unicron probably also ends up as a threat they deal with along the way#they experience all the horrors#transformers#megatron#optimus prime#story ideas#fanfiction
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That’s it that’s the post
#i believe the word you’re looking for is#immaculate#also#the sluttiest thing a man can do#is roll up his sleeves#he doesn’t need to though#i mean look at him#nor does he need to have his shirt undone#but here we are#hugh grant#beautiful men#british actors#love actually#bridget jones diary#notting hill#maurice#maurice 1987#glass onion#benoit blanc x phillip#benoit blanc/phillip
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having read nearly all of the Jeeves short stories, it’s so funny to me that Bertie’s bisexuality manifests as casting a wide but shallow net at girls and a narrow but ridiculously deep net at men. He thinks girls are pretty on a reasonably frequent basis, and has tried to marry at least four women thus far (not counting the unwanted engagements), but when it doesn’t work out he’s over it in 24 hours. Meanwhile he shows absolutely no interest in and never gives flattering depictions of 99% of the men in his life, but will praise Jeeves to anyone who will listen, wax poetic about his appearance (and get defensive on his behalf about it when a child insults it), and is absolutely inconsolable when they are separated.
(also Bertie is in no way allosexual. he is canonically terrified at the thought of reproducing. and due to the narrow but deep net on the other end I don’t imagine he’s going around sleeping with loads of men, either. that man’s either demi as hell or just entirely ace)
#red randomness#jeeves and wooster#bertie wooster#reginald jeeves#wooves#jooster#100 and up neat#finally determined my take on Bertie orientation and had to get the thoughts out#granted I have only read the first three short story collections + Extricating Young Gussie (re: none of the novels or last two stories)#so I can’t speak for the few stories following that or any of the novels#but this is my StanceTM#curious to see what that pastiche Jeeves and the Wedding Bells is like and whether or not it matches this#because if it’s focused on a Bertie het romance then I have trouble seeing it#he truly doesn’t seem invested enough in women for it to carry a whole book???#they’re more like crushes or cheery whims#while Jeeves is so close to his heart that he can’t bear to be without him. a source of comfort as a person beyond just what the man does#side note there are two pastiches I’ve heard about that put Bertie with Bobbie Wickham and that sounds untenable lmao#Bertie would be at his wit’s end#also I heard she gets a guy later anyway?? and at this point Bertie’s already fallen out of love with her besides???#truly the greatest sin of those two pastiches is separating him from Jeeves though. good fucking luck#it also sounds like the show is kinda different?? but I’ve never seen it#anyway I’m rambling without all the information so maybe this is total nonsense but hey!
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im loving s2 of dndads. just. the kids from s1 projecting their insecurities and traumas onto their children…unknowingly continuing the cycle and fucking up their kids in new and interesting ways…
#op#dndads#GOD#sparrow wanting normal to have a normal childhood bc he + lark didn’t/weren't normal kids bc of the doodler and being disappointed when nor#is weird n has weird interests bc normal reminds him too much of himself + lark n that worries him bc of the self loathing they both feel#grant projecting his self-worth issues onto lincoln and wanting the kids to let them die bc he thinks that he doesn't deserve to live...#nicky (though unwillingly) becoming an absent father thus continuing the Close-family cycle of absent fathers#whats funny is that terry jr is the exception to this only bc he doesn’t have a relationship w scary yet#which in turn also mirrors the past#im only on episode 34 but i hope that terry jr continues the stampler legacy of being the best dads in the entire show lmfao
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Lowkey hyperfixating now and I’ve come to the devastating conclusion that Jacob the main character of Water For Elephants… doesn’t really have a character arc
#or like#flaws#which is#bad?#like oh no that’s why every other character feels so much more 3 dimensional than him oops#so that puts a damper on my general opinion of the show#like oh no the book is missing the arc for its main character#I do wonder now if he had more of an arc in the book or the movie#but like#oh no the main character doesn’t have any character flaws#and like all the other characters are great marlena and august and fantastic#jacob is. a guy. he’s polish and he’s a vet and he’s sad. though honestly the sadness could have been more integrated into his character#like all the other characters got arcs at least a little#but jacob doesn’t really change throughout the story#which makes sense as to my thoughts yesterday that his and August’s relationship was under developed partially bc we really didn’t get#enough time seeing august actually coming to like jacob before he decides they’re besties nowbut also bc jacob is not very developed#in general#no actually he does have one flaw I can think of and that’s being Really Bad at pretending he and Marlena are not totally in love with each#other but that’s not like something he has to overcome it just kind of makes him look stupid cause the goal is not ‘get better at hiding#his feelings’ It’s ultimately ‘get away from august’ which like maybe that gets in the way of it but he doesn’t ever overcome his kinda#stupidity bc it’s not actually that plot relevant it just makes him seem annoying when he does that#I think I was too harsh in my opinion of grant gustin as jacob bc I’ve now realized it’s also the book’s fault#I’m hyperfixating and whenever I see a show I always have a lot of thoughts and now I’m hyperfixating in said show#still absolutely incredible though it’s definitely a new favorite but that part could be better#water for elephants#w4e#water for elephants musical#the heir speaks
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A problem I always run into when thinking about Psimon x Devastation for too long is the fact that I always fall into a rabbit hole thinking about how they would have the most Banger kids, some straight up powerhouses, the most interesting freaks you’ve ever seen. If they had more than one child together, they’d have to make a whole other show for ‘em because I know whatever would come of that combination of powerful but janky DNA would be akin to a Greek pantheon
#Tumblr send post#Incoming tag ramble feat. Young Justice and Fan kids and granting the concept of Cringe power over me#dcu#dcau#Losing my marble (singular) (last one)#There are like. So many possibilities.#For one Devastation has some super strength and great resistance#Psimon has the whole literal-whatever-you-may-need-from-a-psychic psionic package#Great two extremes on the superpower sliding scale. BUT ALSO you have like…their origins#they’re pretty much completely unexplored in Young Justice but to my understanding…to vastly summarize and simplify…#Devastation’s OG origin was she was an a faux Amazonian made of beach clay by either a nazi lady or a father of Gods?#Psimon is human…it says so on his wiki….but. Look at him. And I think he gets his powers from like…Trigon. The actual Devil.#Also a physicist in the DC universe so who knows what that’s doing to his genes#Actual diety x demonic pairing#Those children are gonna start out irreparable. But like…I like to think that they’d be fun. And loved.#Heart emoji <3#AND NOT EVEN CONSIDERING ONSLAUGHT STICKING AROUND AND BEING UNCLES AND AUNTS oh boy#Did I ever tell y’all I don’t like to deal in fankids? I never know what to do with myself after I start thinking of fankids?#Besides point in the mirror and go “CRINGE. CRINGE. CRINGE. CRI-“#Which doesn’t make matters better#I’ve been considering starting to write some of these ideas down. Just to keep track of how many ideas I’m getting.#I don’t reckon it’d make me feel any better or any more out of the rabbit hole though#I mean maybe it’d good food for the starving Devapsimon shippers idk. Fankids have never been MY thing but like-#Who knows. I’m starving…For food. Maybe the post-post clarity will hit afterwards and I can start my usual “CRINGE. CRINGE. CRINGE” Mantra#Psimon#simon jones#Yj! devastation#Yj! Psimon#lorelei’s yelling into the void again#Young justice
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Ngl while I do understand ppl not vibing with the age gap between ragatha and jax they haven’t seen the absolute hellscape that is the Gramble x Wiggle Bugsnax discourse
#like listen an 8 year age gap is almost nothing compared to the gap Gramble and Wiggle have#for context Gramble is in his early 20s and Wiggle is like mid/late 40s I believe#and they do have an implied relationship in the game#granted there’s like a lot more wrong than just the age gap but adding the age gap in the mix makes it a lot more yikes#and with Jax and Ragatha as of rn it doesn’t have that same level of toxicity#I am aware Jax is gonna get worse later on though#cosmic chatz
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#hffjfhfhhhhghgh#sometimes you think you’re over a guy but then you have a normal conversation with him like a normal person and proceed to think about it#for the next ten hours#my silly little INFP brain is being insufferable about this#like seriously I don’t want to date a guy who curses like a sailor I don’t#but we just get along so well together? he was homeschooled like me? he’s an lotr fanatic (as in he’s read the books)? he has OPINIONS#about little women? he’s an agatha christie fan?? he had reasonable things to say in biblical studies a couple years ago (which is more#than I can say for 95 percent of the people in that class)?#but I mean it doesn’t matter we’ve known each other for nearly three years and I can’t tell that he’s ever had that kind of interest in me#(granted I am a TERRIBLE judge)#fun fact though he is the guy who read a story I wrote freshman year and read a romance scene and exclaimed ‘that’s it! that’s what love is#supposed to be!’#I mean how was I SUPPOSED to react#if nothing else he’s definitely one of Anne’s kindred spirits and I think I can live with that#anyway sorry feel free to ignore I just needed to ramble#I drove for like three hours today and it was just swirling around in my head the whole time#will probably delete later because there are a couple people who follow me who know me irl and would probably know exactly what I’m talking#about. they’re not super active though so#(and yes this is Alcott boy. although hilariously before I knew his name I called him Agatha Christie boy)#on a lighter note I may have convinced him to watch otgw because it has Elijah wood in it lol
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You don’t realise how many positions require bent knees until you’re in a leg brace 😭
#we are struggling#me and my stupid leg#that doesn’t do anything but ache#one more week in this thing and then I’m out#can only bend it to like 40 degrees though#and can’t be unsupported#trust me we have tried#will never take my leg for granted ever again
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The subject of the getter manga spin offs came to my mind randomly today talking to some of my friends and I’ve been thinking about how IIRC the only major spin off manga to not be translated is High, aka the Mahjong one with a all girl team. The only other ones to follow are a manga made for the PS game and the “try to remember” manga that arma’s first 3 ep director made, but those are in a weird territory of spin off classification, at least compared to the others, but I also chalk up their lack of translations being their hard to find, especially because try to remember was considered lost media. (Until my friends randomly found it lol) But I’ve been wondering to myself something regarding that: While High simply could’ve never been translated because finding the proper scans could be hard, I feel another factor people gloss over it compared to the other spin offs is because there’s a absence of the OG getter team.
Because even though I talked about how Go team been not adapted properly in animes and the toei go show was likely overlooked because of that-to manga readers-I also note it is the only Getter show to NOT be fully subbed even though getting the footage doesn’t seem to be a issue. All the other getter manga spin offs feature the OG team in some capacity, most of them are their own tellings of getter so we get adaptations of the team. The only example I can think of that didn’t do this was Hien, but that had Hayato in it. Meanwhile High is a new getter team completely so people seem to turn an eye to it, even though the girl pilot is- very much clearly “Ryoma but gender bent” lol. (And I do know a handful of people who like her but not a TON)
I don’t wanna make bad assumptions about the fandom because it’s just more so how it goes, the first line of protagonist’s will ALWAYS be the most popular with there only ever being a few exceptions to this, but it is kinda a shame Getter falls victim of most of the fandom either liking Ryoma and/or Hayato the most-mainly Ryoma but I met plenty Hayato fans and y’all are insane /pos-and don’t really bother to bat a eye to the other characters which I just feel leads to these things getting neglected. And I’m- guilty of this but I’m trying to talk about the others more.
#meg text#getter robo#I will say I only haven’t read the spin offs next to “my ass struggles to read” for a particular reason#that being I’m always scared to go down the nichest pipeline of a multi media fandom because I’ve been there before and it fucking sucks#Not in the content sucks more so “oh wow this is good- wait five people know this”#(this is a certified mega man starforce fan moment)#Granted given how I’m- obsessed with this series and already know they exist I may read them eventually (once I like reading again maybe)#Though for toei go case I know a lot of other things factor like peeps just shitting on toei in general because it’s more light hearted#which how dare getter not just be edgy! /s#it’s not like only Armageddon was really the brutal one since the others had humorous moments in between#oh wait arma the most popular one that’s why rip#will say I do have hope High might spark interest eventually because it was in the now dead SRW gacha and devo got into mainline#so now they have a excuse to bring High into something but who knows when that’ll be (and if devo actually does bring forth the spin offs)#that said if the spin offs join DONT USE DARKNESS (I hate to be that guy but- why)#of all the iffy shit in getter that whole fucking thing is probably the worst because it can’t be excused by “oh it’s old”#it’s more recent and the writer just sucks ass with subject matter#if I ever read it to fully see how bad it is you have to pay me but keep that shit OUT of SRW#that or like- add it but take away the gross shit (but preferably pretend it doesn’t exist)
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On your thigh???!!??😭😭😭 how does it feel to live my dream
shaky mostly! 😅 i also go out-of-body every time i’m around her and so i didn’t even feel her hand there, or crystals hand resting on my shoulder, so i tried to really focus on her fingers pressing into my Other thigh today when i got tattooed again
#no fr it’s an insane amazing privilege#and i haven’t taken a second of my dragcon trip for granted#daya and me have somethin special#good thing she doesn’t know how i act on here#even though she’d like it
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So something that came to my brain
We’ve gotten Optimus and Megatron iterations where Megatron is older than Optimus, and in more modern interpretations, where they’re around the same age
So why not have an iteration where Optimus is the older one of the two?
The idea that immediately pops into my head is that before the war (assuming we keep the story of the two knowing each other prior), Optimus could have been a mentor to Megatron, only for Megatron to eventually change for whatever reason and turn his back on Optimus, creating the Decepticons and waging war
It doesn’t need to be that, it’s just what came to my head first. But the idea of their dynamic being where Optimus is the older and Megatron the younger is maybe something to explore in future iterations. We now have a version where Starscream is notably older than Megatron, why not do the same with him and Optimus?
#I mean one might say it could throw a wrench into megop#though granted it depends on the interpretation like if it’s the one I listed#but even then it’s probably not going to stop people (TFA as an example)#and I mean despite my love of the ship in certain iterations it isn’t canon and doesn’t need to be#and I don’t know I’d be curious to see where this sort of interpretation would go#especially since I feel like most interpretations have Megatron as the one with more “power” so to speak#but having an Optimus who’s the older one could certainly change that#I don’t know I feel like I’m starting to sound weird#but I just think this idea has some potential and I don’t think it’s been done before in official media#transformers#megatron#optimus prime#ideas
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Why is it that the good employees (always on time, do what they are supposed to do, make an effort, actually show up to work) are always shit on and the bad employees (who don’t try, don’t care, leave their coworkers out to dry, and don’t even show up half the time) seem to always be praised and face zero consequences for their actions? If I just decided to not show up I would be fired, but this other girl faces no consequences ever, It’s bullshit
#is it because excellence is expected from the hood employees? therefore it’s taken for granted?#like the second a hood employee screws up or us late or whatever it’s like suddenly there’s hell to pay#god forbid I’m late due to traffic#which is completely outside my control#in my specific situation the coworker is my bosses niece so you can imagine the absolute bulkshit that occurs here#comes and goes as she pleases#half the time doesn’t even show up#constantly bringing in her kids even though other employees in the past have tried that and they are immediately sent home#like just be fair#why is that so hard?#you should be holding your niece to a higher standard bc she’s your niece#but no#instead the rest of us have to pick up her slack#god forbid I take a half day#not even a whole day!#half#and you get the boss emailing clients like we would be able to get this done if I could get my employees to come yo wogg to k#like excuse me??? excuse fucking me?#im here more than the boss the 2bd boss and their niece combined!#you have no right to say something like that unless you are here all day every day too and you are not#hold everyone to the same god damn standards and then you can bitch about attendance but until then#shut your mouth#the nerve!
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genuinely is the world like ending or something why is riverdale bad AND taylor swift is acting like this. multiple pillars of society are crumbling as we speak
#also i just found out two minutes ago that That Man is english. i thought he was american this whole time#so now i just think he’s more embarrassing. he doesn’t even have the small amount of grace i was granting him when i though he was just like#some idiot from nyc who thinks he can do whatever he wants because insecure girls let him fuck them because he painted his nails once#that’s who i thought he was but no he’s english. so it’s worse and now i hate him more. cuz like. he’s not one of mine#beth.txt
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EXPERIENCE (m.)
könig x inexperienced!reader
tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting
note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!
;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man
9.5k
When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby.
You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away.
He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time.
On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that.
He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military.
You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about.
The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber.
By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do.
“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.
“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”
You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by.
You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it.
You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight.
“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.
“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open.
He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you.
You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance.
“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”
“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”
That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.
“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly.
“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider.
“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”
“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”
You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up?
You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole.
You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did.
So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it.
But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König.
At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age.
As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did.
The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name.
You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot.
You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up.
As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them.
“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”
The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.
‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later.
Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches.
You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind.
You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on.
He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.
“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it.
“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself.
“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on.
“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”
He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you.
But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.
“See you around, König,” you say as you step off.
He doesn’t respond.
Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him.
It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König.
The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days.
Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for.
Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.
“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.
“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence.
You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it.
The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out.
You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all.
“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.
“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”
He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen.
A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on.
It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”
“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”
“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”
He frowns at you, “Something silly?”
“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him.
He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.
Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after.
But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.
“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”
You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.
“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze.
You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”
Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual.
“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”
You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade.
He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you.
It’s for the best, he assures himself.
It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there.
It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself.
You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes.
König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life.
But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts.
You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.
But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt.
You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings.
Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake.
As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.
You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.
“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.
He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”
He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”
“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate.
You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.
It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet.
After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence.
He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.
“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge.
“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him.
He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”
That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.
“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”
By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you.
But he doesn’t.
It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change.
The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it.
You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision.
König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.
But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff.
He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you.
“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”
“Should we?” you quip back.
He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch.
“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”
He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.
“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”
The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”
“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”
“So you mentioned before…” you reply.
“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”
“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”
“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.
“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”
He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”
“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out.
“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”
“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”
“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”
You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”
He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”
You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss.
You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to.
With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.
You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip.
“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.
“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”
“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”
He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”
You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before.
The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it.
He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder.
He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely.
“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”
You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms.
You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan.
Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.
He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?”
“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”
That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”
“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought.
He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”
He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you.
“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.
“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”
You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him.
After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle.
However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.
“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.
You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again.
König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away.
His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements.
“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”
You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips.
“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”
You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure.
He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.
You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.
You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.
You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip.
“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.
“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.
“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches.
“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”
You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements.
He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience.
He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”
You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties.
“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.
You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.
“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.
He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.
Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.
You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs.
His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.
“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”
You clumsily nod your head.
“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.
“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.
He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”
“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.
“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.
You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it.
“Tell me,” he says.
You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”
He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt.
“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.
König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.
“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”
Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you.
He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”
“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”
You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.
He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you.
“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”
You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”
“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.
“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”
You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.
He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look.
“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.
He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”
When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool.
“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”
“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock.
“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”
You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum.
“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”
The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.
“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”
“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”
He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.
The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause.
“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”
“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.
“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”
You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch.
“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”
He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.
“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.
“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”
As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore.
“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”
You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.
Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”
He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.
“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”
“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”
“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”
“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch.
You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you.
Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer.
You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter.
“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”
He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.
Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good.
Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.
But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.
The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them.
“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.
You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”
He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”
“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.
“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”
The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you.
“W-Wait!” you wail.
“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.
“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist.
“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”
Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs.
“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”
“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.
It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his.
He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”
You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.
You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.
“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”
“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.
“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.
You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.
“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.
You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out.
It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.
“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”
You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”
He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” you agree.
The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap.
“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.
He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”
You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”
He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”
You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.
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Attempted applying makeup again this morning, and the results are FAR better this time around. Primarily because I stuck to ONLY using eyeliner on my upper eyelids, instead of doing both my upper and lower eyelids. But most importantly I didn’t fuck it up this time either. (I also followed some advice online that said to start with your eye makeup first, because then if you fuck up you can just clean your eyes are start over without having to redo everything, and my GOD it’s probably the best makeup advice I’ve gotten so far)
#i don’t think i’m too crazy about the color of eyeshadow i used#but it’s not fugly and i’m just experimenting with different colors for now#honestly aside from eyeliner i’m finding makeup application to be surprisingly easy#maybe it’s because a lot of what i’m using is liquid makeup so you just have to tap it on#but i thought it would be harder for some reason#granted i’m also not trying to do anything over the top#so i’m not using and bronzer or highlighter#literally all i’m using right now is eyeshadow primer. eyeshadow. eyeliner. mascara. concealer. blush. foundation. and lipstick.#okay now that i’ve actually written out everything i’ve used it’s actually quite a bit#it doesn’t feel like a lot though and that’s what really surprises me here#part of why i never had much interest in makeup was because i HATED the way it felt on my face#it always felt so heavy and like i had an invisible mask on#but this stuff i have on right now i can barely feel it at all#the only real place i feel anything is my eyes and i think that’s because there’s more product there than everywhere else#the hardest part is feeling itchy somewhere and not being able to scratch it because you’re afraid of rubbing off your makeup 🙃😅
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