Work Text:
the lab is quiet except for the faint hum of machines and the occasional clink of glass as you clean your work station. you wipe out the last of the residue from a beaker, making sure it’s spotless before placing it back on the shelf. erdnuss, your little companion, sleeps soundly on a nearby chair, her furry chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. you glance over at könig, who’s sitting on the floor in the corner, a blank book resting on his large thighs, charcoal smudging his fingers.
he’s focused, entirely absorbed in the drawing he’s working on. it’s something you’ve noticed he loves to do since you resurrected him three years ago. back then, you weren’t sure what to expect. bringing someone like him back to life, someone with such a complex and broken past, was a challenge in itself. but you did it, and over time, you’ve come to understand him in ways no one else could. he’s quiet, but expressive in his own way. his art, for one, speaks volumes when words fail him.
you can tell from the glances he steals in the reflection of the beakers and glass that he’s drawing you. he always does, especially when you’re working on something delicate like the experiment earlier. you had spent hours reattaching nerves to a squirrel brain, practicing the meticulous process so that perhaps one day, you’ll be able to do it for him. the entire time, könig had sat patiently, though you knew he longed for your attention. you could feel his gaze, wanting your kisses, your gentle pets for being so good. he never complained, but you knew he craved you.
a smile tugs at your lips as you finish wiping down the last surface and quietly walk toward him. he’s so engrossed in his work, his brow furrowed in concentration, that he doesn’t notice you approaching. you can see the faint outlines of your figure sketched on the page, the details in your hair, the way your hands delicately handled the instruments—it’s all there, captured in his rough yet tender strokes.
you crouch beside him, your hand gently brushing against his arm. “könig,” you say softly, your voice just above a whisper. “what are you working on?”
he doesn’t react immediately, still lost in his own world, his eyes fixed on the paper. but when your hand slides up to his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze, he finally looks up, his eye widening in surprise. könig freezes as your shadow falls over his sketchbook. it’s like he’s just realized you’re there and his gaze flicks between you and the drawing. his large frame momentarily relaxes before his eye meets yours.
his uncovered, soft puppy-like gaze melts your heart, and without thinking, your hand moves beneath his mask, fingers brushing against his chin. his skin is a cooling warmth, and the moment your touch lingers there, he leans into it, his large body shifting slightly to follow your hand. you smile, realizing how much he craves these little moments of affection, more like a loyal dog than erdnuss in some ways. at least with könig, you can always tell what he’s thinking.
as you pull your hand away, a soft whine escapes his lips, a sound so low you almost miss it. it makes you chuckle softly. “i’ve been trying to get your attention,” you say, your voice soft and playful. “what are you doing?”
he blinks at you, silent for a moment, before raising his hand, palm up, asking without words for yours. you place your hand gently in his, watching as his thick fingers trace the familiar bite mark on the back of it. it’s a scar you’ve grown fond of over time, a mark of possession, of loyalty, something he gave you that ties the two of you together. he seems proud of it, his touch reverent as he brushes over it. “draw.” he mutters, his voice deep and soft, almost sheepish. he holds the sketchbook up slightly, as if to show you his work.
you already knew, of course, but you liked asking anyway. it’s one of the ways you interact, and seeing him draw out his thoughts never gets old. “you’re so talented,” you say, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. your fingers linger there for a moment, tracing the line of his temple. he visibly relaxes under your touch, a low, rumbling sound escaping his chest. it’s that same contented sound he makes when you pet him, like a deep purr. you chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his temple, your lips brushing against the edge of his mask. “you’ve been so good, sitting here so patiently as I work.”
he hums in response, leaning into your touch as if he’s been waiting for this all day. your hand moves from his temple to the back of his neck, stroking the skin just below the hem of his mask. his breath hitches slightly, the familiar sound of his contentment filling the space between you.
“do you want some attention now?” you ask, your voice soft and teasing. “i know you’ve been waiting.”
he nods, his eye closing for a moment as he leans his head against your shoulder. you let your hand trail down his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. it’s always a wonder to you how someone so large, so intimidating to others, can be so gentle and soft when it’s just the two of you.
“you’re always so good for me,” you murmur, placing another kiss on the top of his head. “my good boy.”
the praise makes him melt, his body relaxing completely against yours. for a while, you stay like that, könig resting his head on your shoulder, and you stroking his hair and neck, giving him the attention he craves. it’s a quiet, peaceful moment, one that makes the outside world feel distant and unimportant.
eventually, you pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands. you smile, your other hand moving to gently rub his cheek. “can i see it?” you ask kindly.
he hesitates at first, the nervousness in his body language clear. he always gets like this when you ask to see his drawings, even though he knows you’ll love them. after a brief pause, he hands it over, his gaze flicking between the sketchbook and your face, waiting for your reaction.
the pages are filled with sketches of you, captured in different moments, different moods. some of the drawings are simple, just quick lines that hint at your form or expression. others are more detailed, showing you lost in thought or smiling, your face contorted in pleasure or happiness. each one carries a sense of intimacy, like he’s been studying every little detail of you, committing each one to memory.
you flip through the pages, a smile tugging at your lips. “these are amazing,” you say, glancing at him as you continue looking. “i should frame this one… maybe put it on our bedroom wall.”
könig’s ears perk up at that, and for a brief moment, his eye widens. our bedroom. did you really just call it ours? he had never assumed he was allowed to think of the space as his too, but now the word echoes in his mind, filling him with a giddy sense of joy. he’s too caught up in that thought to notice you’ve flipped to another page.
this one catches your attention immediately. it’s of you again, but this time it’s different. your body is drawn in intricate detail, your face twisted in pleasure, and two large, disembodied hands are gripping your breasts. the intensity of the sketch surprises you, but there’s no denying the craftsmanship, the care he’s put into every line. it’s raw, sensual, and filled with desire.
you hum contentedly, tracing the lines of the drawing with your fingertip before glancing back at him. “you have strong memories, don’t you?” you ask, your voice light but knowing.
he stiffens slightly, realizing which drawing you’re looking at. his eye darts between the sketch and your face, unsure of how you’ll react, but the gentle smile on your lips reassures him. you remember the moment too—when he touched you for the first time, the way your body had responded, the surprise in your eyes. it had been an intense moment, one that clearly stayed with him.
“you still remember that, don’t you?” you ask softly, leaning closer to him. your hand reaches out, brushing against his again, and he nods, his eye lowering slightly in embarrassment, but there’s a sense of pride there too. of course, he remembers. how could he not? every touch, every sound, every reaction from you is burned into his memory.
you tilt his chin up with your hand, making him look at you. “i like it,” you confess, your voice soft. “you’ve captured everything so perfectly.”
the tension in könig’s body melts away at your words, replaced by something deeper, a sense of contentment and satisfaction. you feel his chest rise and fall as he exhales, the tension that had been there only moments before disappearing entirely.
you can tell how flustered he is, even without seeing his full face. the way könig fidgets, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he holds his head down in that adorable shy way. it makes you smirk. the mighty, dangerous könig, reduced to a bashful mess by your teasing words.
“awh, is my little monster flustered?” you coo, your voice dripping with amusement. his entire body tenses for a second, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him even through the mask. his hands twitch nervously in his lap, and when you see him visibly blush beneath the thin fabric, it makes your heart race a little faster.
his head ducks lower, trying to hide, and you laugh softly, playfully scolding him, “you’ve been such a pervert, drawing naughty things of your master.”
könig shifts uncomfortably, clearly embarrassed, and shakes his head in denial, but it’s weak, unsure. he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. his large frame is far from intimidating now, caught off guard by your teasing. “n-nein… not like that…” he mutters under his breath, his accent thick with anxiety, but you can tell how much your words have affected him.
“oh, really?” you purr, leaning back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eye. you place the tip of your boot beneath the edge of his belt, gently tugging him toward you without effort. könig stumbles forward, shuffling closer to you, the movement awkward and endearing as he follows your silent command.
his heart is racing now, pounding so hard he’s sure you can hear it. the tension in the room shifts, thick with anticipation, and you tilt his head up with two fingers, making sure his gaze locks with yours. you lean down, your face now inches from his, your breath warm against the fabric of his mask.
“if you’re going to act like a perv,” you whisper lowly, your voice soft but dripping with authority, “then you can watch me like one.”
his eye widens, startled. watch you? the thought has never even crossed his mind. the idea alone sends a shiver through his body. his master? he stumbles over the concept, struggling to process it, his mind racing with confusion and excitement. he looks away, overwhelmed, but your voice pulls him back instantly.
“look at me, könig,” you say gently, your tone sultry yet commanding, leaving no room for disobedience. his head snaps back to meet your gaze, eye wide, almost desperate for your approval.
“can you be good?” you ask, a slight edge of amusement in your voice.
he nods frantically, eager to prove himself. you smirk, brushing a lock of hair from his face, and his breath hitches in anticipation. “good. if you behave, i’ll reward you,” you promise, your words like velvet, making him melt even more under your gaze.
his entire focus is on you now, his body tense and waiting, hanging on every word, every movement. the way you toy with him has him on edge, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. he nods eagerly, his large hands trembling slightly in his lap as he awaits your next command.
“but only if you play along,” you tease, your fingers tracing his jawline, barely touching but enough to send a thrill through his body.
könig’s breath quickens, his excitement barely contained as he waits for you, his master, to decide his fate.
you settle yourself on the cold, sterile surface of the operating table, the metal cool against your skin as you slowly begin to strip. könig, ever attentive, sits silently at the edge of the table, his eye locked onto your every movement, his gaze heavy, intense. his breathing is already deepening, his body tense as he watches you, but like a well-trained dog, he stays perfectly still, just as you commanded.
you take your time, teasing him with every deliberate motion. your fingers slide down to the waistband of your bottoms, and you tug them down your legs. the fabric pools on the floor, but it’s when you slip off your panties that könig’s control is truly tested. his eye flickers, the briefest twitch of his fingers betraying just how desperately he wants to reach out and touch you. but he doesn’t. he only watches, like the good boy you’ve trained him to be.
your legs remain closed, hiding what you know he’s dying to see. his eye narrows slightly, his breath quickening as he waits. your hands move up to your top next, peeling it off your body, letting your breasts spill free. they hang so prettily, catching the dim light of the lab, and you can see könig’s eye half-lidded, struggling to keep his composure.
“it’s so hot in here,” you tease, knowing full well the effect you’re having on him. his breathing is ragged now, his eye tracking the curve of your body as you shift on the table, deliberately not giving him what he craves most—yet. when you finally open your legs, revealing yourself to him, könig’s eye rolls back slightly, a low, guttural noise escaping his throat. he’s so eager, so starved for you, but still he remains obedient, sitting on the floor like a dog waiting for its master’s command.
your thighs are glistening, webbed with your slick, and könig stares at your cunt like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. he’s drooling beneath his hood, his tongue aching to taste you. his hands are gripping his knees so tightly that his knuckles have turned white. you can hear the sound of his heavy breathing, can feel the tension radiating off him, but you’re not done playing with him yet.
slowly, you shift, pressing your toes against his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer. now, he’s face to face with your pussy, so close he can feel the heat of you, can smell the arousal that drives him wild. he shifts impatiently, his large frame trembling with the effort it takes not to pounce on you, to bury his face between your thighs like he so desperately wants to.
“not yet, my love. you’ll have to wait a little longer.” when you sternly tell him to wait, his entire body shudders with frustration, a deep, needy whine slipping past his lips. you tap his shoulder with your foot, reminding him to behave, and though it nearly breaks him, könig obeys, readjusting himself before making eye contact with you again. his eye is filled with hunger, with a burning need that only you can satisfy, but he waits, as you’ve taught him to.
you slide your hands down your own body, letting him watch as you trace the lines of your form. your fingers ghost over your breasts, your belly, and finally, down to your aching clit. you gasp softly as you begin to rub slow, deliberate circles, your voice spilling out into little moans that you know are killing könig. his eye is wide, fixated on the way you touch yourself, his body trembling with barely contained need.
you know this alone won’t satisfy you, that you need him, but the thrill of teasing him is too sweet to pass up. your other hand reaches up to grope your breast, squeezing the soft flesh as you let out a louder moan, purely for his benefit. könig’s entire body tenses once more, his eye fixed on every movement, and you can feel the raw desire radiating off him, filling the air around you. he’s struggling, you know that, but you’re not done yet.
finally, you grow tired of your little game. your body is aching for him, and you know he’s just as desperate. “come closer,” you murmur, your voice dripping with sweetness, thick like honey as you beckon him with your words. “i need you, könig.”
he doesn’t move at first, his body twitching with the effort it takes to hold back. he’s waiting, waiting for the command he craves. you chuckle softly, knowing exactly what’s going on in his head. his eye narrows at you, filled with hunger and a growing impatience, his massive frame trembling with anticipation.
“come here,” you finally command, your voice firm, and that’s all it takes. könig doesn’t waste another second, crawling toward you, his large form looming over yours as he finally gets to be near his master. he’s huffing, his breaths ragged and desperate as he comes to a stop before you. you reach up, your fingers gently removing the screws from his hood, carefully pulling the fabric away and tossing it behind you.
without the mask, you can see just how desperate he is. his face is flushed, his breath hot against your skin as he leans down, his lips trembling with the need to kiss, to taste you.
you coo at him softly, your fingers stroking his jaw as you ask, “do you think you deserve your reward?”
könig nods frantically, his hands trembling as they grip the edge of the table, his entire being focused on pleasing you. he’s frantic, desperate to be good for you, to earn what he so desperately wants.
you soothe him, letting him rest his head against your chest, feeling his hot breath on your skin as you stroke his hair. he’s unusually warm, but you don’t mind. after a moment, when his breathing evens out, you lift his head, his silky hair spilling around you like a halo.
“i’ll give you your reward,” you promise, your voice soft as you pull him closer, sealing his fate with a single, sweet kiss.
könig melts into your touch as soon as your lips brush his, his body trembling as if he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life. his breathing is erratic, his heart pounding beneath his broad chest as he presses closer to you. his massive hands, still trembling with restraint, rest on either side of your hips, careful not to touch you too much. his desperation is palpable, the way he shudders against you, the low, guttural whine that escapes his throat when you deepen the kiss just slightly.
you pull back after a moment, chuckling softly at the way könig immediately follows, his lips chasing yours as if he can’t stand to be apart from you for even a second. “such a good boy,” you murmur, your fingers trailing down his cheek, tracing the sharp line of his jaw as you watch his eye flutter in response to your praise.
he’s breathing heavily, his face now flushed a hot red and his lips slightly parted, as though he’s waiting—begging—for more. the need in his eye is undeniable, his whole body tensed with anticipation, but still, he waits. he’s always so eager to please, so obedient, and you can’t help but reward him for it.
you lean back against the cold surface of the table, letting your legs spread just enough to give him a better view, and könig’s eye follows the movement with a barely contained groan. his hands tighten where they rest on the table’s edge, his knuckles going white again as he holds himself back, but he’s trembling with the effort.
“do you want to taste?” you ask softly, your voice a low purr as you let your foot press against his lower back, urging him just a little closer. his breath hitches, his whole body shuddering at the thought, but he nods frantically, his gaze never leaving your core. you can see the way his mouth waters, how his tongue twitches behind his lips, desperate to lap up every drop of your slick.
“such a good little monster,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair. könig groans at the praise, his body shifting closer to yours, his hot breath fanning across your thighs as he hovers, waiting for your command.
“go ahead,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of his heavy breathing. “you’ve earned it.”
könig doesn’t need to be told twice. your body trembles as könig moves down your form with a slow, deliberate hunger. his lips press against the softness of your belly, his large hands gripping your hips as if anchoring himself to you. the nibbling at your tummy sends a flutter through you—a sensation that, somehow, feels right despite the strangeness. he’s always been this way with you, both tender and ravenous, especially when it comes to your body, which he worships so fully.
you flinch when his mouth finds your clit, his lips closing around it in a kiss that feels so gentle, yet powerful, the way his mouth crashes onto your pussy with such fervor takes your breath away. you didn’t expect it, not like this. the way his tongue moves, the way his breath catches just before he devours you—it’s new. and he knows exactly what he’s doing. his tongue is hot, eager as it laps at your slick, tasting you with an intensity that has your back arching off the table.
your mind spins as könig grabs you by the hips, dragging your lower half to the edge of the cold, metal operating table. his hands move lower to grip your thighs with bruising strength, pushing them back to devour you fully. it feels wrong somehow, being in this space—where sterile instruments and bloodied rags once served their purposes. but with him, you forget it all. nothing but the sensation of his eager tongue, licking up your arousal as if it’s the sweetest nectar, takes precedence.
you let out a loud moan, your hand flying to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you tug him closer. he groans against you, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body as his tongue works you over, circling your clit with practiced ease. every flick of his tongue, every suck and lap, is perfect, each movement designed to drive you closer and closer to the edge.
he’s so messy. every wet sound fills your ears, your mind a storm of his moans, your own sharp breaths, and the mess of heat building inside you. könig’s hands slide up, far enough to reach your breasts, where his thumbs and fingers work against your nipples with the same hungry energy.
his pacing keeps throwing you off—one moment soft, loving, and then suddenly rough, insistent. he’s not holding back, switching between the two so wildly that you can’t catch up. his eye is locked on you the whole time, watching your every reaction, drinking in the sight of you unraveling beneath him. he lives for this—for the moments where he can make you feel good, where he can prove how much he needs you, how much he worships you. you’ve never felt so sensitive. every kiss, every suckle on your clit has your legs shaking, and your body’s betrayal makes you want more, even though you can hardly handle it.
it serves you right for everything, doesn’t it? for being so distant, so cruel at times. it feels like punishment, the way he continues without letting up, leaving you breathless and gasping for grounding. könig stands, lifting you clear off the table, your feet hovering above the ground. you’re so high—literally floating, but it’s him doing all the work, holding you up with his powerful arms as you cling to him.
“könig—” you gasp, your hand tightening in his hair as you feel yourself growing closer to your climax. “my lovely könig, you’re so good to your master…” you choke out
könig groans loudly at the praise, his grip tightening on your thighs as he doubles his efforts, his tongue working faster, harder, desperate to bring you to your peak. his eye is wild, his whole body trembling with need as he watches you, waiting for that final moment when you shatter beneath him.
you’re babbling now, words tumbling out of your mouth too fast to make sense of. you’re too close—he’s got you right where he wants you. his moans are getting louder, his body shaking with the same desperate need he’s forcing from you. in german, he begs, pleads for your sweet release, wanting to taste every bit of you. his voice rises, the moans mocking yours as he switches to higher pitches, matching the delirium you’re slipping into.
with a loud cry, you snap, your body shuddering hard against his. your legs clamping around his head as you come undone. a gush of wetness, your release, streams down his chin as he drinks deeply, taking everything you have to give. könig moans against you, his tongue never stopping as he rides you through your climax, savoring every drop of your release. könig won’t stop, not until you’re empty, not until he’s had every drop of you.
you’re panting, your body still trembling as you come down from the high, your body goes slack in his arms, your voice weak as you confess again and again how much you love him. even now, after all this time, those words make him melt. his tongue continues to gently lap at your sensitive core, as if he can’t get enough. you shudder at the overstimulation and you softly tug his head back by his hair, and he lets out a low whine, his eye filled with disappointment.
“my gorgeous monster,” you murmur, stroking his cheek to soothe him. he’s still panting, his face flushed and glistening with your slick as he looks up at you, his eye wide and pleading. so messy. “you’ve so well.” you whisper, slurring your words. you were exhausted.
with a gentle reverence, he sets you back down on the operating table, his kisses trailing up your body—your thighs, your tummy, your chest, your neck, and finally, your lips. your eyelids feel heavy, your body already succumbing to the exhaustion pulling at you. he doesn’t say anything, only brushes the hair from your face before lifting you once more.
könig cradles you with such care, his large arms easily supporting your weight as he descends the attic stairs. his steps are slow, deliberate, making sure not to disturb your sleep. you’re nestled against his chest, your breath soft and even, completely trusting in his embrace. the lab, dim and cold behind you both, fades away as he walks down the narrow hall toward the shared bedroom. the space has become a sanctuary over time, a safe place for the two of you.
the door creaks slightly as he pushes it open, and the soft glow of moonlight spills through the half-drawn curtains, bathing the room in a silver light. he moves carefully, setting you down on the bed as though you were made of glass. his touch lingers for a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. the softness of your skin under his calloused fingers makes his heart swell with affection. he watches you for a moment longer, the rise and fall of your chest soothing him.
he silently slips into bed beside you, careful not to disturb your peace. his arms instinctively wrap around your smaller frame, pulling you close, his body enveloping yours protectively. the warmth of his body against yours feels like a shield, one you’ve come to rely on. you unconsciously shift in your sleep, pressing further into him, seeking the comfort he provides even while unaware. konig smiles, a sense of fulfillment washing over him.
the rhythm of your breathing becomes his lullaby, the steady rise and fall lulling him into a sense of calm. he buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, a mixture of the lab’s sterile air and something uniquely you. it grounds him, reminds him of everything he cherishes. for a moment, he tightens his hold, as if worried you might slip away, but then he relaxes, knowing you’re here, safe in his arms.
his mind drifts as exhaustion tugs at him. thoughts of your earlier teasing flash through his mind, the way you played with his emotions, riled him up, yet always so gentle and loving. his chest warms at the thought of how much you mean to him, how you’ve given him purpose and affection since bringing him back into this world. a soft sigh escapes him as he settles deeper into the mattress, his body curling slightly around you protectively.
the night is peaceful, the soft sounds of your breathing the only thing he needs. with you safe in his arms, konig’s eyes slowly close, his mind finally giving in to the pull of sleep. as he drifts off, the last thing he’s aware of is the steady thrum of your heartbeat next to his.