cringe and free

older roommate könig who the first time that he sees you enter the apartment his brain blue screens and has to remind himself to act like a normal human. he helps you with the boxes, doesn't talk much, is glad that he was still wearing his mask so you didn't have to see you blush. he was weird, yes, but rent was cheap and the place was close to your campus.

könig keeps a good distance with you, staring behind his mask, talking very little, asking enough, noticing. he knows which snacks you like and how high or low he has to put the temperature, he knows when you do your laundry and when you need someone to rant to, he is there, nodding as he fidgets with the pillow that rests over his lap.

könig who comes home late after a long workout, taking off his mask after closing the door, freezing when he hears a small gasp from the couch, you sit there staring at his face, sharp angles jaw, tall nose, buzz dirty blonde hair, a few scars all over, his cheeks go pink. "i thought you'd be asleep by now" his voice comes a bit higher than usual. "i was waiting for you... i couldn't sleep" you say back, still looking at his face, he truly is breath taking. "i'll make some tea" he says before rushing to the kitchen to die in silence.

a few months go by, könig still prefers to wear the mask around the house, sometimes you ask if he can take it off so you can look at him while you talk, he can't say no to that pretty smile. every time he looks at you blush or giggle at him, he feels guilty, nasty, he hates how he fucks his fist in the bathroom after you touched his arm. he hates how much he stains your panties; he hates how the small of your shampoo gets him hard.

but what he hates the most is that he can hear your soft moans at night, that no matter how much he tries he can't stop his hand from sliding down his sweatpants and take out his leaking length. dreaming of being the one to make you sound so pretty.

so, that night when your friend dropped you off at the apartment after a party, könig gently carries you to your bed, placing a small and soft kiss in your head, getting ready to leave until your hand grabs his. "sleep with me" you whisper, and he can't say no. his body makes the bed sink, too big for your twin sized bed. your body lays over his, your face on his chest, your legs on each side of his thigh, you can feel him poke your thigh, his uneven breaths, his big hand on your lower back. he is getting hard by just the smell of your hair, by feeling your body so close to his. "i need you" you whisper close to his jaw, and he gives in, flipping you over without effort, his big body caging you in, the bed creaks. his bulky hands rip apart your shirt, his lips crashing into yours as he moans your name. he is gentle, slow, stretches you out with his fingers, wats you out, tires you, but never puts his dick in. "i want you to be sober for that, ja?" he whispers into your ear, his leaking tip resting on your stomach.

dog hybrid k9 reader with handler simon.

simon who didn't want to take you because he isn’t used to working with k9s. he prefers to be deep in the field, focused on his own thing more than having to bark orders to a dog. until he was told you couldn't be tamed, that makes him raise a brow.

it doesn't take him long to understand what's going on, your last handler retired, you felt abandoned, you barked and bite. simon didn't flinch, didn't pull back in pain as your fangs dig into the black fabric of his glove. his hand holds your jaw to take a good look at you.

in less than a month simon has you walking behind him like a good dog, listening to commands like you used to, his big hands cupping your face to give you small pats. "good doggy, treat" he mumbles as he crouches in front of you, taking a small treat from his tactical belt and feeding it to you, your mouth covered in blood from the guy you neutrilized.