König x Reader – BDSM, rough dom, mean with hints of softness
You shouldn’t have said it.
Shouldn’t have called him cold.
But it was too late now.
The hotel room door slams shut behind you and König’s voice slices the air before your back even hits the wall.
“Wanna say that again?”
Low. Threatening. Controlled only by sheer force of will.
You try to respond, but he’s already closing the space—six foot ten of raw, coiled fury. His jaw ticks as he presses a palm flat against the wall beside your head, caging you in.
“I said,” he growls, “say it again. Call me cold.”
You stare at him, heart thundering. His mask is still on, only his eyes visible, ice blue and burning. The sharp scent of sweat and gunpowder still clings to his gear. There’s tension rolling off of him in thick waves.
“I didn’t mean-” you begin, but his hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is velvet-edged steel. “You meant it. You think I don’t feel anything?”
You shake your head. “I just… I wanted a reaction.”
“Well, you’ve got one.”
His grip tightens, not cruel, but punishing. His other hand snakes between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties, slow and deliberate. His eyes-those bottomless, haunted eyes-watch every flicker of your reaction.
“You want warmth?” he sneers, slipping his fingers under the fabric. “Earn it.”
You gasp as two thick fingers shove inside you, rough and merciless. He pumps them without warning, curling them to strike deep, mean spots that make your legs quake.
“No prep, no patience, just like you wanted, right?” His lips brush your ear. “You poke the monster, don’t cry when it bites.”
Your moan is swallowed by his mouth crushing against yours, brutal and possessive. His free hand releases your throat and tangles in your hair, yanking your head back to bare your neck. He licks a stripe up your throat, then bites down—hard. You cry out, wetness flooding his hand as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.
When he pulls away, he licks his fingers clean, then wipes the rest across your cheek like war paint.
“Strip,” he commands. “And kneel.”
You do, hands trembling. König paces as you bare yourself, tossing your clothes aside. When you drop to your knees, he stops in front of you, towering and impassive, his cock straining against his pants.
“Look at you. All mouth earlier. And now you’re quiet.”
You glance up at him through your lashes. “I’m sorry.”
“Too late for that.”
He unzips, pulls himself free. He’s thick, veiny, heavy in his hand.. and already leaking for you. You barely have time to adjust before he grabs a fistful of your hair and guides your mouth to him.
“Open.”
You obey. He slides in deep, forcing your jaw wide. The burn makes your eyes water. His pace is punishing, relentless, each thrust forcing you to take more, gagging on him until tears stream down your cheeks.
“You wanted real,” he grunts, thrusting harder. “This is what it looks like.”
You gag again, nails digging into your own thighs to anchor yourself. He’s merciless, head thrown back, groaning like thunder. You think you catch the faintest tremble in his hips before he pulls out and hauls you up.
“On the bed. Face down, ass up.”
You scramble into place, heart racing, legs trembling. You don’t see him shed the rest of his gear, but you hear the belt. The low hiss of leather sliding through loops. Your breath catches.
Then, crack.
The belt lands across your ass, fire blooming across your skin. You whimper, but he’s already winding it around your wrists behind your back, tying it tight.
“Still think I’m cold?” he murmurs.
“No,” you breathe.
He lines up behind you, nudging your legs farther apart. The tip of his cock drags through your slick folds, slow and deliberate.
“No safeword tonight,” he says, voice raw. “You want me soft? Beg for it.”
He slams into you, hard enough to make the bedframe slam the wall. You cry out, but he doesn’t let up. Each thrust is deep and punishing, every inch of him dragging fire through you.
“Louder,” he demands. “Let the whole fucking hotel know who you belong to.”
You scream his name, broken and sobbing, body stretched to its limits. He pounds into you like he’s trying to leave bruises on your soul. Your body shakes, sweat mixing with tears. You feel split open, ruined-and then, suddenly—
His hand slides under you, finds your clit. Starts rubbing fast, ruthless circles. You wail, legs buckling, orgasm ripping through you like lightning.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Come for me. Come on my cock, slut.”
You do.. clenching, sobbing, trembling. But he doesn’t stop. He grabs your hips, keeps thrusting, deeper, harder.
“Not done.”
It’s too much. You’re crying now, begging without words. You feel raw, used, broken open, and then he comes too, with a hoarse growl, spilling deep inside you, burying his cock as far as it’ll go.
For a long, shuddering moment, he stays there.. chest heaving, hands gripping your hips like they’re the only thing anchoring him.
Then slowly, he pulls out, unties your wrists. You collapse onto the bed, wrecked.
And then, his hand brushes your hair back. Gentle. Careful.
You feel the weight of the covers pulled over you. Arms gathering you against a broad, bare chest. A heartbeat thundering in your ear.
König exhales. “You drive me fucking insane.”
You nuzzle into his chest, dazed. “Sorry.”
He doesn’t answer at first. Then you feel his lips against your temple.
“You’re not,” he mutters. “But I still want you.”
