On Mission

"Shek" is my favourite romcom. It has been since I was a child but I realized this just recently 💚

happy early valentine's <3

I just want this to be here, a masterpiece 😍

🥵🔥

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : könig’s job affords him an air of authority and power that few other professions can. an admission that you find this particularly attractive piques his interest.

pairing : könig x f!civilian!reader (‘perle’)

warnings : 18+ mdni. gun kink!!! this is zero plot, 100% filth, i got a little carried away- gun in mouth. könig is flirty and cheeky because he is, damn it. domxsub dynamics, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (m receiving). size kink, degradation kink, uniform kink all present if you really squint.

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Forest green eyes gaze at you through a black, threadbare veil, an eyebrow arching in silent query. Despite the draped cloth obscuring his expression, you can imagine he's smirking, the edge of his lips pulling up as he grapples with your admission. Pride and self-satisfaction roll off König's massive shoulders in waves, though the sheer immensity of his frame makes it feel far more like an avalanche. 

"You like my uniform?" He repeats your admittance, his thick accent lilting in amusement. It's mortifying, you think, to let König into your mind and show the elite soldier just how much he affects you.

You'd hate to seem disrespectful, to reduce his valorous job to some kind of uniform kink- 

"Schatzi?" König pushes gently, watching you squirm under his interrogation from across the room. Chewing on your lip, you note how it smarts slightly, tender from worrying it with your teeth. 

"Mhm- It's more... That I like it on you." The confession makes you cringe internally, expecting König to laugh or reduce your fantasy to that of a 'civvy stereotype'. 

König appears momentarily caught off guard. You see both dark eyebrows arch in mild surprise before a sort of realisation and subsequent amusement settle into those viridescent irises. 

"You mean I am special?" He muses, setting towards you ever so slowly. For such a hulking mass of man, König moves stealthily, delicate footwork almost inaudible. "Not just any soldier?"

"No!" You insist instantly, cheeks heating up under his inquisitive gaze, "No... It's just you- Just you in the uniform."

König hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement as he advances towards you slowly. The intimidation you feel drips down your spine and settles in the pit of your stomach. He's not as threatening as a lion, with brute force and indiscriminate power. No, he reminds you of a hyena, cunning and wily. The knowing look in his eye only adds to the feeling that he's up to something, and your heart thumps in your chest when he continues to search your expression. 

"Tell me. What about the uniform do you like so?" He urges you to detail your desires. You're beginning to wish you'd never mentioned anything because König looks like he's dangling bait between your eyes to coax you into a trap.

"Uhm," you fumble for an answer, those lush eyes calmly studying your trembling frame. When you drag your eyes over König’s body for an answer, you observe the strain of his shirt buttons and the revolver holster strapped to his thigh. He's sown extra length to the leather ties with scraps from a belt, standard military equipment far too small for his tremendous frame.

"I like- The way it fits you? The power, the guns, an-"

"The guns?" He wonders aloud, but there's a sly inflection to his question, guileful. Swallowing thickly, you wonder if you've overstepped a mark, opening and closing your mouth like a witless fish as you attempt to piece together some kind of backtrack-

"You understand their danger, of course?" König quizzes rhetorically, seemingly sated by your vehement nod, "You think they look good? Then... I am willing to share a glimpse of one. That is, if you continue to be so open and honest with me." 

It's an odd sensation, the feeling of your blood running cold but the pit of your stomach burning hot with arousal. König doesn't even give you a moment to dispute, halting his advancing footsteps and deciding instead to revert, putting distance between you and taking a seat. 

"K- König-" You want to ask him to tell you what he has planned, but the words wither on your tongue when you see him draw the stainless steel revolver from its holster. It glints in the fluorescent lighting above your head, coaxing you forward. It's as though he's pushed cotton between your lips, drying your mouth. 

"Perle," he copies you, shifting his hips forward in the seat and slowly letting his colossal thighs part. From here, his eyes look darker, his pupils swallowing his irises as he drops his hand and places the revolver in his lap. "Come take a look."

It cracks up the length of your spine, sparking white hot and burning in your cheeks. W-What? You let out a nervous giggle, stepping forward to begin your approach. 

König doesn't seem to like it, though. He tilts his head in silent warning, and you stop dead in your tracks. He told you-

"Crawl for me, Liebchen," König murmurs, resting his bicep against the seat's headrest. Every inch of his body is relaxed, muscles lazy as his eyes drag across the length of his body. You're almost certain you can feel their path across your skin, leaving burning embers in their wake. God, it's genuinely pathetic; how quickly you fall to your knees. 

The intensity of his gaze bores into you as you settle on your hand and knees. Embarrassment no longer controls you, your arousal overriding any possible humiliation as you crawl across the floor towards him. König's eyes are an open book, pleased and proud of your willingness to take orders–– it encourages you, prompting you to put a slight sway to your hips. 

You'd have to be blind to notice it; the generous length bobbing and straining against the khaki trousers. Despite his obvious discomfort, König does nothing to satiate his arousal, focusing all his attention on you alone when you finally kneel between his feet. 

"Mein kleiner Schatz," the purr rumbles in his chest as König reaches forward, stroking the barrel of the gun across your cheekbone. The chromed steel is cold, chilling your skin and breaking goosebumps across your arms. "You look so pretty like this."

Anticipation prickles down your spine, whimpering softly. You lean into König's touch, turning towards the pistol and pressing a kiss to the steel barrel. You see the flicker of arousal in König's green eyes and how his eyelids grow heavy. 

"Scheiße, you like that?" he groans, dragging the nose of the gun across your lips like the bullet of a lipstick. "My weapon big enough for my girl?" He smirks when you nod, looking up at your lover through your lashes. 

It's downright vulgar, utterly disgusting, but you can't help yourself anymore. The way König looks down at you with this look in his eyes, like he could swallow you whole, makes arousal curl so hot and thick in your stomach that you can't deny your throbbing clit any longer. Sliding your fingers underneath your waistband, you rub small circles on your clit. 

"Oh," König sighs, watching as you let out a gasp of relief. The breath expels from your lungs hot and heavy, misting up the reflective steel surface of the revolver. "Look at you, Perle. Share with me; I want to watch." 

Fumbling with the buttons on your pants, you desperately work out of them and yank them over your hips, panties and all. The searing gaze above you settles on your pussy as you play with your clit, adding to the bliss that sparks across your skin. 

"Mhmm," König hums again, like you've placed an exquisite meal before him. "All wet for me, Schatzi; it's all across your thighs." 

You nod weakly, breath shuddering as you grind into your palm with a whimper. "P-Please-"

"Kiss the gun again, Perle. I'll make you feel good," he promised you, his voice thick and deep with his arousal. You nod thoughtlessly, far too overwhelmed by the need to feel his hands on you to deny his request. You press your lips to the barrel of the gun over and over, slowly and sensually, as though you were kissing his cock. 

"Good girl," he praises, though his words catch in his throat when you take a leap. Opening your mouth, you bring the barrel tip between your teeth, looking up at König through your lashes and letting out a wanton moan. 

Big mistake. 

König uses the balls of his heels to skirt forward in the seat, his knees on either side of your head. He stares down at you, chest heaving as he leans down and pats your hip sharply. 

"Stand up on your knees," he orders, the severity in his voice similar to how he speaks to his KorTac team. You can’t help but wonder if he gets a kick out of it too– some kind of power surge thanks to his promotion.

"Yes, colonel," you address him by his title as you rise, and König growls so deep and low that you're sure the floor rumbles beneath you. He works his massive hand over your own, taking control and slowing your fingers' ministrations to a maddeningly slow cycle. 

"Such a good girl, Shatz," he coos, and once again, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he watches your body crumple with the wave of arousal his control shoots through you. "So receptive. Would you like it in your mouth?"

Whimpering softly, you look up at him in question. Was it safe? Well- Of course it wasn't safe; none of this was. 

"Trust me," he urges you softly, finally replacing the swirling touch of your finger with his own. There's no escaping the drag of his fingerprint, the digit so much larger than your own. 

You nod again, the blissful arousal so mind-numbing that it overrides your fear. Then, letting your jaw hang loose, your eyes practically roll back into your skull when König rests the barrel of the deadly weapon across your tongue.

"Hahh," König groans, sinking his fingers into your soaked cunt. You wail, body bracing and shuddering at the intrusion as his fingers alone stretch you out. "Is that good, Mein kleiner Schatz? Hmm? Does it feel cold in your mouth?"

You nod slightly, managing a quiet 'mhm-hm' to answer your Colonel vocally. Excitement blooms in your chest when you see it pleases him, his fingers sliding deeper into you while working your clit ever so slowly. 

"Does it feel good, though?" He checks in with you, still adamant about your comfort despite his dominant role. You nod again. 

"Good," he chuckles, staring down at you with such an intensity that you almost forget his eyes are green, his pupil dilated so much that they've practically devoured his verdant irises. It rocks you, another blissful wave of arousal sweeping from head to toe. 

Wrapping your lips around the barrel, you allow yourself to get carried away even further. You hollow your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering as you put on the erotic display to work König up even more. 

"Schei- Filthy girl!" You're unsure if he meant to scold you, but König sounds far too wrecked for it to land the way he intends. He rocks his fingers up inside of you suddenly, instantly finding your G-spot and working it ruthlessly. "Alway distracting me, making me lose my min..."

His words are drowning out as your heartbeat thuds against your sternum and in your ears, something sickly sweet and thick like molasses trickling through your veins as your orgasm begins to surge in your abdomen. 

The squelching, wet sounds of König's fingers working in and out of your tight cunt are deafeningly loud, though, audible enough that they reach your ears even over the thumping of your heart and heavy gasps of breath. "K- König-"

"Can you take it deep in your throat for me, Mein Perle?" He asks, sounding utterly wrecked and haggard. Your vision blurs, but you definitely see the lurch of his cock in his khaki cargo trousers. "Please- Please, just for me-"

He doesn't need to ask you twice; his begging is interrupted by a filthy groan of your name when you easily take the barrel further down your throat to the point your upper lip could almost brush his thumb on the hammer of the gun.

"Hahhh, fuck!" König spits, watching tears well in your eyes at the stretch in your throat and cunt. He gently pulls the gun from your mouth, careful not to hurt you but knocking your teeth thanks to his trembling hand. "I'm making you cum, and then you'll do that to me, Shatz. Filthy girl-"

The moment the gun leaves your lips, König's fingers arch against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit simultaneously. It's devastating, and you're barely able to hold yourself up as the ecstasy bursts through you brightly. It's as though a grenade has gone off, but it keeps building and building- 

" König-... KönigKönigKo-ooh-" You squeak his name, his brutal, sniper precision knocking the oxygen from your lungs as your tears drip down your face. "I'm cummmmugh-!"

It’s like static in your ears and across your skin when it burns through you. It crackles across your nerve endings, arcs up your spine until you’re leaning back against it, arching your back as if attempting to escape the intensity of the ecstasy he draws from you. You want to scream his name, begging him to stop, to carry on, but the words drown among the wails and whines of bliss. 

It feels like it goes on forever, your body suspended in euphoria and caged, grounded, only by König’s thighs. 

When your vision straightens, your chest heaving violently, König's hands delicately push your hair from your face. He's careful with you in these moments, the vulnerable aftermath where your mind is drunk on hormones and your body is in shock from the extremity of your orgasm. There's no rush for your recovery; your lover lets you take all the time you need. 

It's only when you manage to straighten yourself somewhat, shaky hands resting on his knees in a wordless show of readiness, that König nods his head. 

"That's it, Schatzi," he whispers to you, holding his breath as he waits his turn anxiously. 

Your mouth waters at the ruddy colour of his thick, veiny dick, and you lean forward to take the head into your mouth in a repeat of your actions earlier. König's hips jolt forward, grasping the arms of the chair with a white-knuckle grip at the vibrations that rock down his shaft when you hum around him. 

"Oh- Oh fuck-!" He chokes out when you gently graze your teeth over the sensitive, velvety head, just as you did the gun barrel. You see König's eyes roll back, and one of his eyebrows arches as the sensation takes over. He's twitching in your mouth already, salty precum dribbling down the arch of his cock and spilling onto your tongue. 

You take your tantalising time, kissing at the head of his dick once more before slowwwly easing him into your wet, hot mouth. König's gasps of bliss are pathetic, the imposing man reduced to a clammy mess of whimpers and keens of your name. It's so simple to work him up, the simple act of your palms smoothing across his thighs enough to get his cock jumping against your tongue. 

The warmth of your mouth around König's dick is too much for him, his head lolling back in the chair. You see him squeeze his eyes shut, bracing against the heaving of his chest and the slight rocks of his hips into your mouth. 

Your hand finds his balls, gently trailing your nails over them, and König's hips suddenly jolt upwards. He slips deep, tip knocking the back of your throat and catching you off guard in a gag. 

Pulling back, you squeeze his knees tight and take a deep breath. 

"Oh fuck- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he apologises fervently, lifting his head like he's got weights tied to it, and it's far too heavy. He can't seem to hold it up straight, and it instantly falls back again with a spluttered wail when you shush him, wrapping your mouth around his cock and tracing his slit to taste his precum. 

He's close already; you can tell by the way his dominant energy dissipates and his balls draw up tight. He’s completely forgotten the act he’d been putting on, his revolver discarded on the beside you and desperate pines of your name falling from his lips.

"Scheiße," he gasps, the wooden arms of the chair creaking beneath the pressure of his grip. "Ah, Sch- shhhh-"

Anticipating his orgasm, you sink heavily onto him, taking as much of his impossible length into your throat as possible. König's hands fly from the chair, grasping the hair on the crown of your head and holding you on his cock like he's terrified you'll withdraw. 

“Ahah- Ah- Mein Perl- fuck!”

He cums with a lurch of his dick, a pathetic, trembling whine spilling from his lips as you swallow it down, the walls of your throat tightening around him. Ragged gasps of breath reach your ears, and your clit burns with the need for attention yet again as you continue to milk König. There's so much of him-

Suddenly, he's using his grip on your hair to pull you off, and he slips from your lips with a wet, audible pop. You look up at his languid body sprawled in the chair, wiping his wetness from your chin. 

"Hah, Schatz…” he watches you, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, "You are too good to me."

You shake your head gently, still sitting on your knees as you rest your head in his lap. They're aching after holding your weight for so long on such a hard floor, but you'll gladly take the bruises as a medal for your hard, valiant work. 

His hands immediately find your hair with a much softer, kinder touch, brushing through the threads and skirting his fingertips over your scalp. "No. I just want to show my appreciation for my heroic soldier, remember?" 

A soft, tired chuckle shakes his body, and you can't help the smile that splits your lips as a response. "Ah, of course. I remember. 'Not like others in uniform'."

"You're not," you insist gently, closing your eyes as he brushes his battle-calloused knuckles across your cheekbone, "None of them make the uniform look so sexy."

"Ah-hah! I knew it was the uniform!"

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Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare Taglist;

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That feeling when you finally c^m after your periods is a pure bliss 🤤

I think people need to stop asking trans people "what gender feels like," because that framing was devised by cisgender psychiatrists and doctors who to try to explain (and maybe even pathologize, invalidate, or trivialize) being transgender. It's not our phrasing.

Because I never "felt" like any specific gender. For me, there is not feeling that is "woman." Or "man" or none of the above either. We have our internal sense of self, but you can't boil it down to a general "woman" feeling.

I have a better way:

Imagine you are one day transported into a someone you don't know's body. They don't even have to be a different gender than you, just anyone you don't know.

Imagine how it feels to open your mouth and someone else's voice comes out. Imagine how it feels to look in the mirror and see a stranger staring back at you. Imagine feeling like the body you're in doesn't match how you know internally it should be, and I don't just mean sexual anatomy. I mean height and limb proportions among other things, too. Imagine feeling like the very blood in your veins feels wrong. Would you want to find a way to correct this mistake in any way you could? What if you were stuck and the only options given to you are expensive medicine and surgery and require years of psychiatric care just to be able to start to access it?

Now, imagine being told you're wrong or crazy for trying to tell the world what's going on with you. Imagine being pathologized and given therapy to convince you that you aren't actually you but this stranger. Imagine that state governments across the country and globe are specifically legislating your rights away because your existence disgusts them. Imagine living in fear of even walking down the street, even in your own neighborhood, because people have been trained to want to hurt you for living as you know you are. Imagine entire social movements and Internet shows dedicated to mocking and harassing you and people like you.

Now, think about how you would feel. Would you feel good? Would you be brave enough to face the world every day while doing this? I doubt it.

But, y'know, that's just my experience. The beauty of being trans, and human experience in general, is that it's all different. That's why I scoff at the term "trans ideology" because none of us can even agree on what being trans is! Ask ten trans people on what being trans is like and you'll get 10 different answers. You think we're that cohesive and organized? A bit of "tell me you've never met a trans person without telling me you've never met a trans person," y'know? What binds us, really, is the people that hate us more than anything else.

Anyway, I think it's time trans people reclaim our own narrative. It's way past time.

My D&D character for my friend's first mini-campaign.

Khalte is a High Elf necromancer, ~150 years old. She was raised in a temple of Vel-shah-roon and has been studying necromancy since she was a teen (judging by Elven standards).

„ Are you Lorkhan? Because I want to explore the secrets of your heart thoroughly ” 🫀

happy Valentine's day! 💘

About me in a few words 🥞

She/her, identify as agender though. Pansexual, polyamorous, 22 years old.

I'm into BD/SM (sub). I have way too many kinks to list them here but if you ask me I'll answer 💅🏻

I love foreign languages (parlo l'italiano 🇮🇹, talar svenska 🇸🇪), Scandinavia in general, playing the guitar. And my another biggest passion is playing tabletop RPGs (especially D&D and Vampire the Masquerade).

I really like The Elder Scrolls (Skyrim specifically), Star Trek TOS (1960-s, yeah), Tarantino films, heavy music and many other things.

This blog is 18+ since I may go kinky and dirty.

I'm an easy-going and open-minded person, I'm here to follow my friends (all 2 of them), meet new people and exploring somthing new.

Live long and prosper 🖖🌈

Am I asking for too much? I just want my partner to enjoy giving me head, just like me giving them head 😔

Need more- König NSFW

Art belongs to: @kinky-thirsty-reader

Based on a request:

reader sitting on desperate!konigs face please i feel like he would be so shy about it but he would eat pussy so good

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, mentions of face sitting, f!ngering

This man knows how to eat his meal and make a mess with it. He will have you on the couch, bed, side of the road, kitchen table or counter. Anywhere as long as his tongue is fucking into your cunt. His fingers are deep inside of you. Your moans and your juices that leak from you, making him cum in his trousers. Your clit is being abused by his tongue and fingers. Your hands pushing his face, and oh does he love when you do that. The way he looks at you as he eats you out, the hunger and desire for more of you, always makes him need that sweet taste of your cunt. Your slick coating his lips, the ones he licks after he had the privilege to eat you out.

Sometimes he has you before you drop him off at base before missions, other times he is at the side of the road when you pick him up from the base. He loves it when you wear your pink panties and how he slides them to the side or off your body when his needs get the best of him.

On days when he is actually shy about eating you out, that is when you know the orgasm will be better. He gets flustered, excited and nervous to even lift your skirt up. His face flushed, innocent look to him, a stuttering mess when you guide his fingers inside of you. "Meine Liebling, I-is this..this okay?" he says as he rubs your clit, one look from you or a moan and he is a mess. He licks and kisses your pussy, always whispering how much he loves you and the taste of it all. His eyes are closed when he is enjoying eating you out. The room dimmed making him more and more needy. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he keeps your legs open for him.

Once he has made you cum at least twice he smiles and opens his eyes, "I love it when you are like this, Meine Liebling." two more fingers inside of you. You squirm and moan, feeding his inner desires. He sometimes makes you ride his face, but that is only when he knows you deserve a reward after taking him all night. Your inner thighs are always covered with love bites or hickeys, only for him to see. At times, he gets on his knees and eats you out just like that, but it's always in front of a mirror because he loves it when you watch yourself cum and moan.

Days when he is overstimulated and when he is eating you out is when you see him cry. He loves how much you praise him, he adores how you stroke his hair away from his face or how you nod and smile as you watch him eat you out. His favourite view is watching you get drunk on orgasms. Your smooth skin, your thick thighs and your pussy, that is what motivates this man to always fight to come home.

Tags: @liyanahelena