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powerfultenderness · 10 months

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I am so, so thirsty for neighbor!Konig and I humbly beg you for the following request; reader has secretly been hard core cramming online German lessons, and Konig says some stuff (lewd or otherwise) that she ends up understanding. Maybe she teases him by saying something back to catch him off guard and make him flustered? Idk but I just spent an hour reading all of the series and im heart needs more to survive

I'm so happy that you're enjoying the series! I liked this idea so much! But I ended up changing it a little bit, I hope you don't mind!

Nothing really happens, but König does say something a little horny, so I guess this will be [rated Mature 18+]

“What, are you going back to school?”

You jolted from your studies and looked up just in time to see a friend join you at the table in the break room. You laughed as you greeted her. She was almost right, it certainly felt like you were in school again! Your lunch was pushed to the side, nibbled on, while you were hunched over a notebook and your phone.

She leaned over the table a bit and took a glance at your notes. “Why German?” You sighed, you needed a break anyways, and started to pick at your food. “Just trying to impress the hot neighbor.”

“Ooh, is he German? And how hot are we talking?”

“Austrian,” you answered with another laugh. “And very.” Sort of? Well, even if you had never seen him without some sort of hood or mask on his face, he was still a fine specimen of a man.

“Want me to help you?”

“You know German?”

“I studied German for years in school and spent some time abroad in Berlin.”

You narrowed your eyes and hummed as you tried to translate her words. “You said: I something, German, something something, Berlin.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh! I know just what to teach you!”

Bzzt!

You picked up your phone and rolled your eyes before sending a quick text.

König didn’t like it. All night you were half paying attention to him and half paying attention to your phone. “Who keeps texting you?” He finally slipped, unable to hold back the slightly envious (ok maybe a lot) question anymore.

“Sorry,” you winced at how rude you were being. “Just a friend from work. She started to help me with a project and thinks she’s sending helpful tips.”

Just a friend from work! It didn’t sound like someone he had to worry about (though he wasn’t sure if you were also attracted to women, and so didn’t completely write off this friend just yet). “But her advice is not helpful?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Not really. She’s jumping the gun. She’s thinking way too far ahead.”

"Hm. Well, perhaps I can help you?" Anything to get you to pay more attention to him.

"Oh, König," you were about to tell him that it was unnecessary, after all you wanted to surprise him, but your phone buzzed again. "You know what, that would be great." You tucked your phone between the couch cushions as if that would stop your friend from texting you.

"Yea? What can I do?"

You hummed before smiling at him, an idea coming to you. “Can you say something in German?”

“What? How will that help?”

“Well, it wouldn’t really help so much as distract from-” your phone buzzed, a little quieter now between the couch cushions, just on time. You smiled and gestured to your phone, “from that.”

He chuckled and nodded, “alright. But, what do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, something…nice?”

König glanced away from you to the television, whatever was on was long forgotten by both of you, as he thought about what to say. Something nice? He could write a whole book of nice things to say about you. In whatever language you wanted: German, English, maybe even a bit of Korean that he picked up from Horangi. But what to say? That you were one of, if not the, kindest people he’s ever met? That he noticed how you were frightened of him at your first meeting but you pushed that fear aside because of that kindness? Or that he noticed you liked puns, and would seek out the corniest puns just to hear you laugh? No. Maybe he should tell you that you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on? Yea, that was nice, right?

“Hey,” you interrupted his thoughts in a soft voice before you settled a hand on his knee, which he hadn’t even noticed that he was bouncing his knee a mile a minute until you stopped him. “I was just being silly. If you don’t want to-”

“What! No!” He shook his head, “it’s not that.” He paused and looked down at the hand you were still resting gently on his knee, then looked back up at you, eyes shining underneath his hood, and took a deep breath before words began to quickly tumble out of his mouth.

“There is simply too much for me to say, I could not decide! Everything about you is perfect! Even the not perfect things! Ever since you moved here, I have not been able to stop thinking about you! You are on my mind all of the time and I don’t know what I would do without you!” “Whoa! Whoa!” You jerked back at his sudden outburst. “Slow down!”

He shut his mouth so quickly and hard that the snap of his teeth was nearly as loud as the tv.

It was quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring wide eyed at each other, before he started again. “I am sorry! I-” “No! No, I’m sorry. Like I said, I was just being silly and wanted to see if I could understand anything. You know, after hanging out with you so much…”

“Oh…”

Another beat of awkward silence.

“Did you? Understand anything?”

You laughed a little sheepishly. “Uhm. I’m pretty sure I can guess what “perfekt” means, soo,” you looked around, trying to spot something perfect and snapped before looking back at him with a grin. No you hadn’t understood much, but you could lighten the mood with an overly ridiculous answer. “So you must have been talking about…dinner? My stroganoff is great, I mean I wouldn’t say perfect, but-”

He started laughing, dragging you into fits of giggles too, and leaned in a little closer to you, elated that this time you did not pull back.

“So, was all of that actually nice?” You asked once your laughter faded out, though you still smiled up at him.

“Yes. I can only think of nice things to say about you.”

Oh! Nothing could stop the goofy smile that crossed your face, not the butterflies in your stomach, or the way your heart sped up, not even the blush that heated your face. Still you decided to cover up your sudden over acting nerves with a touch of humor. You played up your reaction, one hand over your heart as the other tapped his arm playfully. “Aww, König, you’re so sweet!”

He gently caught your hand, running his thumb softly across your knuckles. “Should I try again?”

“Hm?” “This time I won’t speak so quickly.”

Him holding your hand like that was not going to return your heart rate to normal! Still you smiled at him, a bit shyly, and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “Sure.”

“You are very beautiful.” He started, but your soft smile turned into a grin and he paused.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” You tried to downplay just how intimate this was starting to feel.

“Beautiful,” he corrected as he took his hand from yours and gently held your chin so that you were looking directly into his eyes. “Stunning, actually.” You were especially cute when you looked so flustered like that. He gently traced the bottom of your lip and leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to barely above a husky whisper. “And I want to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You squeaked out a tiny little gasp and pulled back from just enough for his hand to drop.

König froze. “Did. Did you understand. That?”

“No!” You quickly shook your head, eyes darting all over the place before settling back on him, though you could no longer hold eye contact. “What, uhm. What did you say?”

Oh. You were a bad liar. Good to know. He wished he hadn’t said that. He wished he hadn’t said anything! Maybe he should have never come over in the first place! Why was it so hard to say no to you?

“Nothing!” He abruptly stood up. “I have to go.” He rushed to the door and nearly ran out, but at least stopped himself long enough to wish you a good night before fleeing.

“Ah, König!”

But he was already gone. For a guy that big, he was certainly fast.

“Oh, shit.” You muttered to yourself, heart still loudly pounding in your chest as you dug your phone out from the cushions.

You pulled up your texts and scrolled through the many, many, English to German (or vice versa) raunchy translations your friend had been sending you. Sure enough, between her translations and König’s words fresh in your mind…

“AHHH!!! I THINK HE JUST ASKED ME TO BLOW HIM!!!!” You sent off a text to her and finally remembered to breathe.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

“Lol! Are you sure? What did he say? I’m calling you.”

It’s a whole week before you see König again. And you both awkwardly pretend like your last encounter never happened. And you both desperately wish that it hadn't ended.

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be removed or added)

@warrior-of-justice @cumikering @ihateuguys

#anonymous #neighbor!könig #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #i'm getting slower!#so sorry!

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passivenovember · 1 year

Text

There’s an ugly bruise on the inside, somewhere, that’s got its fingers wedged between his ribs.

“Can you keep a secret?” The guy asks, lips curled and curdled in the chill, gumming a thick dairy-rich smile he aims to spread over Steve like marmalade that’s gone bad.

He’s never felt like this before. An itch, spreading under his skin, raising gooseflesh all along the back of his neck so his fingernails scratch along the rim of PBR Steve cracked hours ago to keep him from lunging at the guy’s sockets instead.

Billy’s boyfriend waggles his eyebrows.

Steve doesn’t say anything.

He clocks the backyard, mostly empty now that everyone’s inside having apple pie with homemade ice cream, and wonders if he could get away with murder.

Billy’s boyfriend looks around, leaning forward until Steve can smell turkey stuffing and brown gravy on his breath. “I’m going to ask Billy to marry me tomorrow,” He says.

And.

Maybe there’s a plane crash. Maybe it parades into an intersection at rush hour. Maybe it causes a pile up and a bus full of senior citizens plows into a hospital that’s dedicated to nursing sick orphans back to health.

Maybe the whole world burns down in two seconds.

Steve sips the PBR even though it’s gone flat. Even though he knows what’s coming.

“Will you help me?” Billy’s boyfriend asks, and.

Every time he breathes, Steve’s heart shudders in resistance. With every blink, microscopic parts of him break off and blow past the fairy lights in Joyce’s backyard, spreading to the four corners like seeds that hope against all hope that they’ll find somewhere to grow.

Steve’s entire life flashes before his eyes, and it’s just like the movies.

Light-leak film, sepia colored memories of Abraham Lincoln playground and Billy, covered in Cinderella band aids.

Middle school dances where they ditched early to eat Chicago dogs at the only food cart in Hawkins. Freshman afternoons, studying with Billy in the library where the Golden-hour would turn him to folklore.

Senior year, and college, and rush after homecoming bash after graduation, wishing and hoping Billy would look at him and realize that they belonged together.

And now this.

Now the end.

Steve rocks a little, on his heels, reeling like he just took a PBR can to the gut.

Billy’s boyfriend stares at him, big brown eyes flooded with hope and pixie dust, and.

Love.

So much love Steve can feel it crackling through the air. It’s warm and pure and true.

Exactly what Billy deserves. What Steve always wanted to give him--

“Congratulations,” Steve manages.

Because it’s what he’s supposed to say. How his mother always taught him to respond to good news, even if it sinks his own.

He’s bleeding, somewhere. The words have spikes. They scrape on the way out. He finishes the rest of his beer. “Excuse me.”

“Sure,” Prince Charming says.

Steve stalks back toward the house. It’s warm inside. Golden, filled with warmth and laughter. All over the place, everyone’s cuddled up in knitted love made special from what they found at the end of the world.

Eddie and Chrissy, Nancy and Jonathan, Joyce and Hopper, Max and Lucas--

Paired off. Two by two, parading down the rose-pedaled isle Steve has always wanted for himself, and.

“Hey,” Someone says, smile draining slowly from their lips. “Steve, you okay?”

Steve doesn’t know who noticed him. Doesn’t care, he just. Can’t see Billy right now.

Ever again.

“Yeah,” Steve mumbles, searching for his coat. “Yeah, I’m just a little tired.”

Joyce dries her hands on a towel, brows plated with sachrine worry. “You don’t want to stay and help decorate the tree?”

He chances a look around the room and almost deflates in relief when Billy isn’t there, washing the dishes or packing leftovers. “I’m really sorry, I’m just so exhausted, all of a sudden,” Steve lies. He sniffles a little, for good measure. “I think I’m coming down with something--”

“Well, here,” Joyce tells him, rounding the kitchen table, “Let me pack you something to take home, since I won’t see you until Thursday.”

Steve makes it quick.

Says his goodbyes with a fire under his ass, swallowing against the rising tide of panic and regret that he let his yellow brick road pass him by. That he didn’t do something about all the love he’s carrying for Billy when he had the chance.

No one seems to notice.

They fall back into their own rhythm, filling the hole left by Steve and five minutes later he’s out the door, balancing Tupperware of Thanksgiving leftovers against his chest when a lighter flares red in the darkness.

“You leaving?”

Steve pulls away from the driver’s side door, stomach settling like cement around his ankles.

Billy watches with narrowed eyes from the soft, romantic glow of the front porch. The soft blue sweater that protects him from the chill of Hawkins in November stands in staunch opposition to Billy’s face.

His jaw is tight. Teeth on edge.

He’s uncomfortable. He’s caught on to something.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “Yeah, I’m out.”

“How come?

Billy’s beautiful.

And he’s always been beautiful, but Steve takes a snapshot of him, like this. Thanksgiving, full of turkey and apple pie and love that he doesn’t see coming. Silver on his ring finger.

Steve shrugs.

Billy pushes off the side of the house, at that. His nose is red from the cold, eyelashes so long they look like pine thistles swirling against pools of blue when he gets close enough.

“You can’t leave, yet,” Billy insists.

Steve’s already gone. He’s sold the house, maybe, bought a plane thicket--

“I’m tired.”

“That’s a dumb reason,” Billy says quietly. “You get the weekend off for the holiday--”

Steve flares red-hot with annoyance. “I don’t give a shit about that, Billy, I came and had dinner and now I want to go home.”

“I never see you, anymore.” Billy stares at him, looks right into his soul. Ashes his cigarette, puffing on it even though his hands shake. From the cold, maybe.

Steve doesn’t say anything.

He grips the car door, resisting the urge to slam it in Billy’s face when he discards his cigarette and moves closer, thick, clever fingers fiddling with the collar of Steve’s jacket.

“I can’t watch you marry someone else,” Steve says simply. “I’ve watched you love someone else for so long, but. I can’t do that. It’ll kill me.”

It feels good to say it.

He tucks a lock of hair behind Billy’s ear, aching to find it rosy with the cold.

Billy watches him, face dissolved into a single, sugary twist of pain. His eyes are blue. So blue they put the morning sky to shame. So blue they give Steve third degree scorch marks all across his memory, burning everything else to the ground until Steve cracks like a block of old cement.

And Billy doesn’t look surprised.

Or shaken up, or all that heartbroken when he cups Steve’s jaw between both hands.

Steve waits for him to say the words. I don’t love him, I love you. I want to be with you, let’s run away together. Come live with me and we can play pirates--

Steve doesn’t hold his breath.

#harringrove #angst #so sorry!#only not really because who doesn't love a little angst during the holidays!

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