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#cod x male reader smut
killmeprettypleasee · 1 month
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SHUT THE FUCK UP, BRAT
Warning: age gap reader is 24 and Price is 35, Brat reader, kinda mean Price(?).
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You and Price had been married for just a year now, you and him had been even more close than you two started dating.
He had been sweet to you, and he's very well mannered,, so you were quite thankful to have him as your husband.
But currently you decided to be a brat and start a tantrum every minute of the day,, and fuck did it annoy John..
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Suddenly you were shoved to the bed, your body dipping into the soft foam, Price has a devious look in his eyes causing you to shiver slightly at the eye contact.
"You little bitch,, you just don't know how to keep that mouth of yours shut?"
John harshly spoke out causing you to whimper.
Suddenly your pants along your boxers were ripped off and legs had been spread forcefully and folded, now your head was inbetween your knees, Price grabbed the back of your ankle and pushed it down to have a good look at your hole, He licked his lips and pulled his cock out.
By the table side drawer he grabbed a bottle of lube and poured a generous amount on his cock, He couldn't wait to shove his cock deep into your depts,, your warmth,, he just wanted to claim that ass of yours.
But gladly John has some self control to help him resist not to go hard on you yet, your eyes began to go glossy abd tears slowly poured into thin lines, It was a sight to see that his bratty husband was getting nervous to get fucked by him, He loved that look and couldn't help but smirk.
"looks like the little brat actually knows how to shut the fuck up huh?"
Suddenly Price began to shove his cock deep into your ass hole, You let out little whines and cries as he sinked in to your depths.
"J-john.. n-ngh s-slow down.."
You cried softly,
"shut up."
Price replied with a harsh scowl and thrust into you, hitting your prostate head on causing you to jerk up when his hips slammed against your ass.
This caused you to see stars when his hips began to piston in and out of you, small cries and begs left your lips as your hole was being ravished by him.
Now you were a crying and whimpering mess beneath his muscular form, His hands gripped on both on your back knees, pressing them down and folding you like paper.
After round after rounds, Price grew exhausted and when he came he fell untop you and fell unconscious from the tiring in and out of his cock into you.
You let out a soft sigh, feeling weak amd your hips sore, you looked down at him,, gazing at his face then held him close.
You thanked the gods that he was done, and you finally learned a lesson today..
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wjehfshs · 1 year
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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request a Ghost x Top Male reader, its been a rough week and reader wants to show Simon just how much he loves him. (Maybe some praise kink, breeding kink, lil bit of rough sex?)
Part of me wants to say maybe reader asks Ghost to be his? Like marry him? You can choose
Hello! I love this idea
(If any of my friends can see this, go away seriously if I find out you read this I will block you and die ☹️)
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Sub!Ghost X Dom!male reader, Ghost is a bottom, reader is a top, praise kink, somewhat rough, Ghost is having a hard time so reader decides to help him out, pre-established relationship, NSFW, swearing, handjobs, anal, gay relationship, kinda my first time writing smut? I hope this is ok, doggy-style, mentions of marriage, fluffy smut, breeding kink??/creampie
The past week had been hard for Ghost, missions where getting even more exhausting than usual, even his casual banter with Soap was irritating.
He knew he was getting burnt out
He hadn’t even had a chance to be with you because you where separated usually on mission, not intentionally you two just worked better with other people when it came to the battlefield
The week was finally over but his emotions where still going haywire due to the missions he was sent on
He always got like this after missions but it was still hard for him
When you two finally managed to get back into each-others arms, you felt the familiar sexual tension between the two of you
This longing to hold each other as close as you can, to connect as one
This eventually lead to now
Ghost was below you, hand over his mouth as your own hand travelled down his bare stomach
You grabbed his hand and held it in your own free one
“No no, I want to hear you” you whispered to him
His breath grew heavier as you said this
Eventually your hand grabbed his length and slowly started stroking it as you watched his face twist into one of pleasure
He moaned lowly as his eyebrows furrowed before turning upwards
His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he looked down to where your hand held his dick, playing with it slowly
Too slowly
He was so sensitive from not being able to even be near you all week
You started to stroke quicker, your heart swelling seeing him melt under your touch
Spreading his pre-cum over his tip, you pulled your hand away and started to shuffle your pants down
“Turn around baby, I want to make you feel good” you murmured to him, just loud enough for him to hear
He slowly turned to lay on his stomach as you softly grabbed his hips and pulled them up
You ran your hand down his back, stroking his spine
His breathing was laboured and his legs shaky
You gingerly inserted yourself into him as you massaged his shoulders to calm him
Eventually you started moving, cooing praises and loving words at him
His hand was gripping the sheets of your bed as you both babbled incoherent words together
You started to pick up your pace as you let your hand travel back down to his dick as you played with it lovingly
“F-fuck, your gonna make me cum, darl’” he stuttered, his voice muffled by the pillow
“Let go for me, please” you almost whined
The sound of skin slapping together, your moans and whines, and the sounds of where you connected filled the room
To any onlooker it would be a lewd scene, a scene of just sex but to you two, it was an act of love
A way you two could show how you made each other feel.
“Ah~ baby I’m gonna-“ he murmured
“Go on, cum for me my love” you replied
His body started to shake and his eyes rolled back into his head, he was seeing white
Finally he let out a loud moan, like it was finally released from his throat, before-hand, being stuck in there
You followed quickly after him as you rode out your orgasm
Filling him with your cum
After a moment of bliss, you pulled out and turned him around, kissing his face all over whispering praises such as “you did so well, my beautiful boyfriend”
What caught him off guard was when you said “I cant wait to marry you, you’ll look so good in a suit”
His heart skipped a beat as you said this, a wide smile spread over his scarred face
His nose scrunching slightly, as the lines near his eyes showed themselves
God he looked so cute smiling like this
Who knew someone so hard and cold on the outside could be this adorable
“I’d love you marry you, I’d be the happiest man in the world”
I hope this is ok 😞
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v1x3n · 1 month
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
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Just Loser! Simon who's unknowingly a sex god
He says shit like "Did that feel good..?" everytime you two fuck. As if he didn't just give you the most back arching, toe curling, brain numbing orgasm of your life.
You'd be panting like a dog beneath him, eyes rolled to the back of your skull and still he'd be asking "How's that feel..?" Like sir. This isn't UberEATS, why do you keep asking that? Do you want five stars??
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Horsin' around (Centaurus!Konig x fem!Reader)
Konig is exiled from his people. You are exiled from yours. Together, you make about 6 legs and a perfect pair. Tags and CW: Size kink (duh), Centaurus!Konig(horse cocks), Konig is awkward, slight dub-con, power imbalance, belly bulge, praise kink, monster fucking. Thanks @kneelingshadowsalome for the prompt! AO3| Word count: 3016
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Centaurus are not wild animals. You keep repeating it to yourself as you come deeper and deeper into the forest. You keep mumbling it to yourself as you feel the eyes watching you. judging you. Centaurus are not wild animals even if sometimes they behave like one. Not like you’re any different, any better – you’re a human, invading the sacred forests. You’re a human who is dumb enough to go foraging into the depths of their territory. Centaurus are not wild animals, but you don’t feel that repeating the same sentence over and over makes it sound any more convincing. You feel the danger in the air – with each step you take, with each fallen tree you’re stepping over. With every attempt to simply run ending up not working, you know you got lost. Long abandoned the basket you came with – you don’t recognize a single berry that grows here, not a mushroom or even some edible plant pieces to be found. This place is devoid of animals, of flowers – like something just snatched it all away. Ate it all, maybe. You don’t want to think what kind of creature could cause a migration like this. You don’t need to think though. Because the creature finds you first. 
You yelp in a mix of surprise and horror when the arrow flies right in front of you, the skill of the archer is high enough to make the arrow cut down a few bits of hair in front of your eyes. If you were a mere millimeter closer, you’d be dead. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead. This much is obvious. You freeze in place, not daring to move an inch when you hear it. Loud, not even bothering to conceal the sound of it – the creature was confident enough that the prey wouldn’t run. Not the creature, you correct yourself immediately. Centaurs are not animals, they are closer to humans than a lot of other monster types – with their strength and warrior culture, you’d say that they are even more humans than citizens of the village who forced you out. 
The centaur doesn’t even bother to hide himself from you, concealing the sounds of heavy hooves on the ground or evading the branches that crunched against his body. This is exactly what made you surprised when you understood that instead of a rough, but mostly handsome face that most centaurus tend to have, you’re met with a black hood which only spared two holes for the icy-blue eyes staring back at you. 
Is he a grim reaper? An executioner for other centaurus? Would that mean you don’t have to worry unless your lower part resembles a horse? 
You take a quick look at your bottom half. Not a horse. 
Centaur reapers the gesture, looking at his bottom half too. Definitely a horse. 
You decide to speak first, hoping to find words that would work just fine to be your last. 
— I am really sorry for intru…
— This is not the sacrifice season yet. 
Ah, well. 
The people from your village believe the centaurs to be sacred – despite them being monsters they knew a lot about, they were still given sacrifices. Food, some farm animals, especially fatty pieces of meat, and fancy jewels along with some weapons. Centaurus kept the worst predators at bay, herding the wolves to be their pets and sometimes driving deer and rabbits away to the village. They kept you protected from werewolves and orcs – with a meager payment of never touching the sacred grounds. 
You just stepped into the deepest, most protected part of the forest. You wonder if you would deserve a peaceful death. 
— It’s not. I…I made a mistake. 
No, you wanted to be here. When the village decided to drive you out, you thought that foraging in the part of the forest, untouched by humans, would be the most profitable thing. Centaurus won’t take berries anyway, right? But they might just take your life. 
— A mistake? 
He tilts his hooded head to the side. It’s such a boyish expression, that you almost let go of a nervous giggle. Perhaps, you were going crazy…but the centaur seemed a bit nervous. As seasoned as he looked – with battle scars covering his body and a bit of silver mixed with his ginger fur on the horse part – he seemed almost awkward standing here. Tapping one of his hooved legs like a nervous child. Squeezing the bow in his hands with vigor that made you scared he will just snap it in half. 
— I just wanted to take some food. 
— Is there a hunger? 
— No. 
— Humans aren’t allowed in these parts. Why would you go if not out of despair? 
You gulp. 
— I…am not allowed back. 
— Why? 
Because you’re a forest witch who will doom them all, according to the village of a horse people worshippers. Because you’re a monster in disguise who keeps straling babies, according to the village that uses the best pieces of food to feed the horse people who can take of themselves just fine, instead of feeding it to the orphaned children. Because you’re a whore who refuses to accept the new type of sacrifices – the virgins of the village as a breeding material for the Centaurus, according to the village filled with people who would gladly push a poor virgin out in the forest once she turned of age, so she could be mauled by horse people. 
— We had…mutual disagreement. 
You stare at the mighty body of the centaur. You fight the urge to get your hands down his torso, play with its short hairs, and…you were always a bit of a horse girl. Wondering if he is strong enough to lift you up and get you somewhere safe, somewhere far far away from here. 
Centaur has this weird, almost boyish tone. Deep and yet, sounds just a bit deranged. Unhinged. Like he is going to maul you any second – and judging by the bow and arrow still in his hands, he might not be wrong. You lick your lips. He stares at them – or at least you think he is. Hood only reveals his eyes and you can already get lost in them. Cold, like the northern sea, Like the snow outside. You thought all mythical creatures were supposed to be warm-blooded. 
— You’re exiled then. 
He isn’t asking. Centaurus are omnipotent and wise, they should know about human affairs more than humans themselves. You made them into sort of gods – you shouldn’t be surprised that this guy knows way more than he should. Somehow, you still feel safer around him than other humans – and maybe, it’s more of a you problem. Maybe, you ended up eating some of the weird berries and it’s just your hallucinations before you die. 
— I am. 
He takes a step back. He is big – all of them are, you suppose, but, somehow, he is bigger than he should be. Giant, muscular torso on top of an already muscular and big horse part – he can pick you up, throw you, and break you with one finger, probably. No, definitely. You don’t want to give him a reason to, so you just stay in place. Hoping he wouldn’t deem your trespassing as a matter worthy of a torturous death. 
— My name is König, human. Repeat, ja? 
The name feels weird on your tongue. Rude, sharp. You don’t want to call him wrong and receive his wrath, so you try your best to repeat this. 
— Ko-nig. Ja? 
You tilt your head to the side, a curious little bird. Centaur – König, König, König – squints his eyes like he is smiling. You made the god smile. The horse god. The horseman. Just…man. If you don’t look down, where you already see something giant and heavy standing between his horse legs, you could forget that he isn’t a man at all. 
Suddenly, you feel light. Suddenly, you feel your legs dangling in the air as you were picked up and bumped into the broad chest. Suddenly, you feel hands everywhere. On your ass, under it, touching your chest, your stomach, trying to get to the best position so you would stop moving constantly and trying to get out. You don’t want to fight him because you’re already in the air and falling right now could result in a broken neck – but you don’t want to be suspended in the air either. You whimper, pathetic sound escaping your lips as you feel calloused hands pressing on your mound. Traveling down your stomach and touching, squeezing, petting your delicate parts. 
You spend so much time without a gentle hand or a soft touch, you can feel yourself dripping on the fingers of a centaur. Embarrassing, yes – but you know that if he were to proceed, you wouldn’t really resist. 
And oh, he proceeds. 
— They finally send us proper sacrifices. 
He mumbles it into your hair, taking in your smell. You’re nice for a human – not scared of him too much, not trying to ran away or fight. Humans are usually just annoying insects under his hooves, but König can feel your face growing on him. Your body, too. Too weird for other Centaurus, never being able to find a proper mate who could take his lack of social awareness, he found himself mounting a human. His tribe would call him pathetic. His tribe would laugh. 
Then again, he is the first to get such a delicate little gift. Who is laughing now? 
You aren’t crying in his hands, and he is a bit surprised. You smell like a proper mate, like a good bitch in heat just for him – yet, you’re not falling on your knees to present your dripping cunt. You’re just trying to whimper to ask him to be gentler, and he is happy to oblige. Calm enough to listen to you. Ripping your pants apart because this is such a useless piece of clothing – concealing your rich smell from him. 
König doesn’t waste any time when he dips his finger across your swollen folds. Playing with the slick running down his wrist, smiling as you are closing your eyes and pressing your head in his chest. He is strong enough to keep you suspended in the air without a care in the world. Weak human, he would have to spend so much time preparing you for him – taking his cock would be a task no sacrifice ever competed before. 
König stares at your dripping pussy that is already clenching around nothing just because his fingers are pressing on the hood of your little clit, and he knows you’d be the perfect wife for him. Taking him properly as his mate, moaning as his cum fills you up. he can’t wait – knows that he should, preparing you properly. His hooves are beating the ground in impatience as his fingers slide in and out of your pussy. You spread your legs, moaning louder. Such a filthy whore for him. 
— Relax, human. Be a good mate. 
— This isn’t what I wa…
— Quiet. Such a good…good girl, Schatz. Will bring me strong children. 
— We can’t have sex. It’s im…impossible.
You whimper, trying to squeeze your legs, to shut his hand. You only moan louder, knowing that you would accept everything he gives you, and ask for more. 
You don’t want to imagine his cock entering you over and over, forcing its way past your walls and making you round and soft with his children. It’s a foreign concept – centaurus shouldn’t mate with humans, it should be physically impossible. Yet, you almost want to try. A breeding mare, made for one and only. 
König gets you on…something. It isn’t exactly a natural thing – a pile of stones and trees, perfect height for you to lay your back on, with some soft leaves and animal skins to rest comfortably. His hands support you on the perfect height and you immediately know what he construction is. A mating stand. Probably for other centaurus – but you feel almost fine laying on it too. Almost normal. Your muscles sting as you try to rest your legs and then spread them wide enough for König to stay between them. He is a big guy, after all. He turns you around, on your tummy. Ass in the air, you don’t like not seeing him. The heavy musk fills your nostrils, making you suddenly aware of what is about to happen – you’re wet, spread enough on his fingers, calloused fingertips scrubbing your gummy walls from the inside. He is fingering you with ease, but it doesn’t feel like a man with experience – he is touching and probing like he doesn’t know what he is doing and, honestly, you kinda like it. He is exploring your body with his and you moan, not caring that you sound like a whore. Humans have already abandoned you as part of society – you might as well just take it. — I will prepare you. 
— It won’t fit… — It will, Schatzen. You’ll get used to it. — What if I break? 
— I will be careful. Trust me, ja?
Even his fingers are a bit much when he enters your body with a third digit. One, two, three – you are about to burst when he is massaging your G-spot, when he is smiling in your hair and gets you so aroused just on it alone. You’re about to cum when he slowly extracts his fingers, deeming your sloppy cunt as explored enough. Your walls are clenching around nothing, a beautiful display of desire – maybe, it was the right call that humanity abandoned you. König looks at the perfect centraius whore on display and he can’t wait to claim you. To make you his. 
He is exiled from other centaurus. 
You are exiled from humans. 
What a beautiful fucking pair. 
He enters your body slowly deliberately. Regrets it immediately – you are wonderful. Too perfect to be this slow, being soft with you is torture. Your walls accept him with a stretch, like a warm glove around his cock. Slowly shifting, softening, straddling his cock with each inch he buries in the depth of your warm, weeping cunt. He can’t touch you, as unfortunate as this is – dumb horse body is making it impossible, even looking at you is hard enough on his neck. He wants to mount you properly, but you’re simply too fucking small. Wants to touch your hair, to whisper some encouragement that human women would probably love to hear – but he can only breath heavily and enter you, one painful centimeter after the other. 
— T…too much, too much, please, I can’t, it’s… You whimper, you cry, it breaks his damned heart because you don’t deserve this. You need to be treated with care, with softness and yet, he can’t give you that. He wants so much to just put you in his arms and hug you, but that would be impossible. König will give you all the coddling in the world after you’re done. After he is sure that you received all the possible breeding and seed he could gave you. 
— Quiet, human. It would be nice soon. 
— It’s not…
— Touch yourself, please, bitte. I can’t…can’t touch you. But you will feel better. 
Your hand goes between your legs, playing with yourself. Spreading your folds around his cock even more, fingers sliding past your clit. Touching the little button and hoping it would be enough to make you aroused – and it is. Your cunt is a mess of your own juices mixed with König’s pre cum, and you already know that you won’t be walking the next couple days. 
König bottoms with a deep sigh, and you feel him in your stomach. Bulging with his giant cockhead, making the outline of his cock visible – you touch it with shock, not understanding how your organs are even in place. 
He starts moving and you finally feel it – the burning pleasure setting fire in the pit of your stomach. the excess liquid pouring from your damp cunt, moans spreading from your lips. You never felt this way with a human before – then again, no human cock would ever be able to compete with König. He can reach the parts of your body that you never knew existed, and the mix of pheromones and musk is making you dizzy. Light-headed. You don’t even need to touch yourself more to feel the height of your orgasm, building in as rapidly as König’s thrusts. 
In, forcing its way to hit your cervix gently, massaging the sore spots of your tight pussy. 
Out, grazing over your inner walls, touching all the buttons. 
In again, filling you up with his pre-cum. Moaning loud enough for the whole forest to hear. 
Out, dragging you back with him, as you’re still impaled on his cock. 
— S…so perfect for me. Scheisse, so pretty… He can’t touch you and it breaks his heart. König goes to praise you instead – words feel awkward on his tongue, but he knows you need to heart it. He wants you to hear it, wants you to fee wanted, entitled. Soft. He smiles when you whimper and moan, milking him for his orgasm. Your cunt is made for him and he wants to spend every waking moment buried inside of it. Gods, you are a perfect sacrifice. 
He is coming embarrassingly fast, pumping his giant cock even deeper into your pussy. Filling you up with hot cum that can’t even stay inside of your cunt. Leaking everywhere, you two are making a mess – you breath heavily, not understanding what is right and wrong anymore. Only knowing, remembering the shape of his cock. Pushing in and out, forcing its way in. God, you feel full. And ridiculous. And so, so perfect with his cock slowly starting to pump you again. And again. Konig came embarrassingly fast, but only because this is just the first orgasm in a row. Forcing its way inside, you are overstimulated already – but you will take him, of course, obviously. You have to.
König is going to enjoy breeding a new clan out of you. 
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thegnomelord · 4 months
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this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so
dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.
what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.
OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/
CW:NSFW
What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.
Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.
A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.
And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.
Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.
His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.
"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."
"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."
And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.
Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"
"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.
You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.
You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.
But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.
To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.
"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.
Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."
Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.
Then comes the actual courting dance.
One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."
You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"
With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.
Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"
Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.
You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.
"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.
You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.
God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."
You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.
Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.
What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.
Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.
Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.
And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.
"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"
"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.
And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.
It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.
"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.
You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"
Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.
"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.
"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.
"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.
The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."
"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."
"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.
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katz-chow · 8 months
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any thoughts for pervy könig? i know he'd be so gross amd clingy, constantly stealing panties and huffing at them :( or watching you across from the showers, fisting his leaky cock and making eye contact with you :(
i bet he'd be stalk you 'nd everything !!! being so creepy and openly desperate :(
ignore this if you're uncomfortable !!
warnings: nsfw, gn! reader, pervy, toxic, power play, corruption kink, stalking, somnophillia, not proofread :D
all the things that lead up to that though, waiting and stalking you to see your reaction to everything hes doing.
him purposely putting a hand on your lower back to walk past you, his large hand traveling a bit too far down until you feel a squeeze on your ass
the next time he does it, you quickly arch into his grasp and look at him with those doe eyes of yours, all innocently. from then on, he knows how cheeky and desperate you are
always teasing you by making you go shower last, saying he needs some…help with paperwork. you always agree because he’s your superior!! why wouldn’t you??
ends up with the both of you in the empty showers late at night, you rubbing the soap down your body with the open curtains, allowing him to lean back on the benches by the lockers to feel his pants tighten, your freshly worn underwear in his hand.
by the time he finally pulls his stiff, leaky cock out, he can’t help but use your underwear to jerk him off :( it’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to you, you’re just so young and precious!!
will keep your cum stained underwear to “wash for you”. you ended up never seeing them again…along with a few other pairs
pervy konig who sneaks into your room while you’re asleep using his rank to get the master key. he sits there kneeling on the floor next to your bed as he sniffs your hair and your musk, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat from your sleep
he inhales your scent and just like that, he leaves his own potent one, cumming on your sheets…or if he’s feeling rather possessive, he’ll grind against your arm or hand until he cums all over you
pervy konig who grinds up against your ass when you’re both supposed to be focusing on a debrief, but he doesn’t care, it could’ve been an email. not his fault you’re standing next to him, your smell just turns on something feral in him
making you go into parade rest, your hands behind your back to grope and touch his growing bulge while no one dares peep a word about him grinding and grunting in the back of the room, he’s their superior too!! why would they risk getting in terrible trouble? especially harsh when someone that’s not him making you embarrassed
pervy konig who thigh fucks you, rarely ever allowing his dick to your oh so needy parts, slick dripping down your thighs and mixing with his own precum. when he thinks you’re doing particularly good, hell intentionally slide higher and rub against you, making you tremble and moan, edging you and denying. it leaves you all needy, allowing him to do all the pervy stuff just for the chance that he might authorize you to cum
“you’re too good for me, schätzelein…can’t stand ruining you yet…”
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poetslastdeath · 2 months
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okay but i need a reader who is badshit insane, i need a reader with a history dretenched in so much blood that it’s stained them.
i need a reader that can be as stoic and scary as ghost so much so that they’ve become more of a legend then a person, a rotting grave that holds the bones of who they once were.
or a reader that was always drawn to the glint of a knife and the sight of blood running down their hands until no more skin showed, more monster than human since birth.
let them be feral I BEG‼️‼️‼️ especially for price, let them be feral and protective and obsessive and in love with price please 🙏🏽 🗣️
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agoofyannoyancetolaw · 4 months
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Christmas gift
a/n: more delicious graves for y’all because I personally believe he’s a 5’9 brat who should be my husband instead
minors DNI
"Fuck! Darling that's too damn big, you’re splitting me open every damn chance you get" graves whined as he felt you pull down his boxers for what must been the fifteenth time today. But he was on holiday break, and you had missed him while was gone on missions.
"You’re only half way on, graves" you hum as you thrust into him with ease, your previous rounds making the slide in very easy. His aching member laying against the kitchen table where he was making cookies till you interrupted.
"Please, please darlin" the words fell out of his pretty lips like a praise more then a title, his eyes shut tight and his hips desperately trying to match your fast thrusts as you bucked into him
"Oh god! Love, slow down!" he cried as he felt the burning sensation of cumming dry from the hours you two had spent, bending him over every surface in the house until his gummy walls were carved in the shape of your length. His vision cloudy and his breath uneven as his grip slipped from the table an onto your shoulders as you bullied his prostate and over-sensitive nerves.
graves had teased you about his Christmas gift last night being himself, and god did you take it seriously. He could feel the lingering burns of your hickeys and kisses along every inch of his skin and his hole fluttering around you oh so prettily. You were addicted to even the sight of his pretty hips flush against yours.
His jaw went slack and fell open, pretty moans and whimpers and broken begs falling out loud enough the neighbors could probably hear. Not that he minded, of course. The frosting he had made for the cookies now stained on his shirt which used to be yours. Maybe he wouldn’t come home next Christmas just to be a brat. And just to know you’d do even worse then. You’d probably pull you by the scruff of his neck from his base in front of his men and drag him home like the good husband you are
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l0v3tast3 · 11 months
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horny thoughts ! bc this is all i can write rn ig other things are in progress i swear ヽ(*・ω・)ノ
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könig who can't get enough of how you react when he finally opens you up enough to bottom out inside you. he knows his size and your limits, and he never pushes in too fast, always makes sure to keep his face and hands between your thighs until you're boneless and making the sheets wet with your cum and his spit. and it's always worth it. he loves it all, he loves doing just about anything you'll let him do to you; but the way desperately grab at him, how you choke on the air you try to pull in, the way you always whine and grind your hips into his to get him to start moving when they meet your thighs or ass is his favorite part.
"be patient, hase, i don't want to hurt you," he'll say while he grinds down into you, always making your back arch and your brain empty without fail. "you want me to make you feel good, right? i will, liebling, i promise. can you be good for me and wait? i know you can, you're always so good for me," könig whispers, always pressing himself close to you. he runs his hands over your body, massaging the pressure points that push whiny moans through your puffy lips.
you always cling to him so tightly, digging your nails into his arms and shoulders and back, trying so hard to ground yourself from how stuffed you are as he rolls his hips to push in even deeper. könig loves how you clutch onto him; he gets the idea to tie your hands to the headboard one day, just to see how desperate you would get. you almost cried, nearly-incoherently begging for him to please, please let you touch him before he unties you. he almost feels bad. "shh, it's alright hase, don't cry. i'll make it up to you. what do you want me to do, hm? tell me, süß, what can i do?"
and once he eventually starts dragging his thick cock back and sinking back in, könig commits to heart every noise you make, every whimper and moan and whine for when he gets deployed. he memorizes how your body reacts, how your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open. how your legs shake and you arch your back and try to push your hips into his to match his thrusts as he steadily quickens his pace.
könig who's just so in love with how you react to him <3
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hase = "bunny" , liebling = "darling" , süß = "sweet" (u should look up the pronunciation) , also sowwy for the uber amount of tags lol (* ̄▽ ̄)b
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killmeprettypleasee · 1 month
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Hihi can you do a konig or ghost x puppy boy reader? It can be sfw or nsfw if you are comfortable doing it!!
LITTLE PUPPY
Warning: SMUT, breeding ment, mention of 'rut', soft dom König, pet play ment(?).
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You're König's pet, before that you were just a poor abused pup, treated badly by your old master.
But König saved you, and treated you so gently and lovingly, you swore to follow him always and be a good boy just for him!
He's so gentle and kind with you, spoiling you with toys and treats,, so ofcourse you're gonna be a good little puppy for your beloved master.
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Now it was that time of the every month, Today was your rut and it was strnger than your last rut 2 months ago.
Your master hasnt arrived yet andvyou were calling,, whimpering out to him; wanting his touch badly,
While laying at the foot of his bed you cling unto his large pillows, sniffing his musky and woody scent he left, it was so addicting.. you've been craving him so badly wanting him to breed you little tight ass.
Imagining those dirty thoughts caused you to have an erection, your small little cocklet began to throb cutely while you're busy sniffing König's scent.
You try to palm yourself to relieve some pent up need,
But it didn't seem to work.
You heard the front door open and your fluffy tail wagged happily, heavy foot steps soon made its way on the stairs, you began to wait for him like the good pup you are.
Finally the door creaked open showing a massive figure behind the door, It was König! Your beloved master.
His eyes fell on your form while you yip happily and in excitement.
"M-master! Master i miss you s'much!"
You spoke out happily, waiting for your master.
Soon he walked over to his bed and crawled untop you.
"Such a good boy you are.. You waited for master like a good boy! Did you already prep yourself baby?"
You nodded, clinging to him as you ears perked and tail wagged.
"I-i was waiting for you for so long!"
You whined out, pouting slightly.
König smirked and grabbed a bottle of lube to coat his cock with, Lathering his cock up till it was fully covered by a thin, slick sheet of lube.
He pressed his tip against your waiting hole, Before pushing in, he scanned your face,
Seeing the excitement in your eyes, he sighed softly and pushed into you, pass your tight ring of flesh.
"Argh!.. *huff* *Huff* G-good boy.. such a tight little ass.."
He praises, Kissing your neck lovingly.. oh you just wished you could be coddle up forever by your loving master.
Treating you like the little prince you deserved to be.
His thrust shook the bed, he was becoming more rough on you, but despite the roughness of his movements; he still kissed your tears away so lovingly.
He was so happy he had you, greatful even.
You were such a good little puppy, so ofcourse he's gonna reward you...
Thrust, after thrust, after thrust,
His hips piston into your ass roughly, slowly but surely his pounding became sloppy and twitchy.
One, and final thrust he came in you.. filling you up with his lovely seed, the feeling of his warm cum in you was soooo good! You love him so much! You really do!
And finally he got to breed you..
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lucifermonsii · 2 months
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imagine ghost in a flimsy pink skirt w thigh highs hrhrgrhrmgm such a precious boy all for you to look and no other eyes to feast upon.. having your good boy sprawled out in bed, masturbating his cock as while the vibrator in him hums aggressively against his prostate,, spurts of cum oozing out of his angry red tip from the over stimulation.. heavy breathing and groans fills the room from ghost as his thighs clenches around your hips,, keeping you close to him while you tease your cock with your other hand in front of him... "fuck- please, please, please, please, I've been so good! need' you inside of me-" whimpering when you decided to finger his wet entrance, the lewd wet sounds made you hard as your fantisies began to grow.. such a wet boy all for you<3 nothing but putty in your hands..
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konigsblog · 4 months
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tw: rape/noncon, kidnapping
note: merry christmas :3 i have a few christmas themed posts for you guys! hope you enjoy <3 photo credit: @ave661
kidnapper könig's christmas surprise 🎁.
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you've been locked away down in the basement for months on end, without sunlight and only the smell of dust keeping you company. of course, he visits you. calming you when you scream for him to get away. he's always by your side, compensating for his horrors.
you've lost track of time, you don't remember the last time you saw sunlight, let alone a calendar to tell you the date. occasionally you'd ask him what day it was, but könig had a theme, where he'd lie about the day to fuck with your head and confuse you with time, telling you that it was saturday, when he told you yesterday that it was wednesday. you're so easily worked up; so incredibly sensitive, that you can't help but cry when something goes wrong or confuses you. a shell of the person you used to be.
and because he's so mean to you, you're surprised when you're awoken to the sound of könig coming downstairs, with a heavy, filled sack over his shoulder. you're confused, eyes blurry before they focus, whimpering from exhaustion.
“merry christmas, my dear.” he mutters quietly, your eyes fill with tears, realising how long you've truly been here... he hands you a gift from the sack, encouraging you to open it. slowly, you tug at the ribbon, his eyes never leaving your frame. you remove the bow, before tearing open the wrapping paper and opening the small box. inside, there was a pair of handcuffs.
confused, you cocked your head to the side, looking at könig with curious eyes. “this is useful for your other gifts, little mouse. open this one.” he hands you another box, similar size to the last one. you slowly open it again. pulling the box and opening it to find a ball gag this time. you whimper, feeling könig's hands grab your wrists, pinning them above your head.
“be good for me, liebling...” he huffs out, grunting while you struggle. using the handcuffs, he binds your wrists together, chuckling when he has you restrained on the ground. you use your feet, useless as the large man grips your ankles, cursing at you in muffled german.
könig puts the ball gag around your head, muffling your noises. he flipped you around and onto your stomach, pulling your hips into the air so that you were forced into a downwards doggy position. using the ribbons from your presents, he tied your ankles together tightly into a knot, a chilling smile plastered on his face at the sight.
another gift was taken from the large sack könig had came into the basement with. he opened it, smiling at you the entire time. he watched as your eyes glistened and widened when he pulled out a sex toy — specifically a large dildo. you, of course, squealed and wriggled, earning yourself a painful spank to your tight ass.
he placed himself behind you and pulled your light blue panties down, chuckling and taunting you the entire time. könig just wanted to show his devotion as your kidnapper, how he'd fuck you in the future, and how your body no longer belonged to you but instead him. he toyed with the dildo; dragging it up your slit, collecting your slick juicies on the toy. you cried out, sobs muffled with the ball gag, leaving you shaking like a leaf.
“oh, meine liebling... won’t you understand?” he sighs out, still rubbing the tip of the dildo against your cunt. your eyes filled with tears, beginning to spill down your cheeks. “i just want to train this pretty hole to take my cock, prinzessin.” he begins to push inside, filling your tight pussy with the large toy. you're so tight — unused and inexperienced that you can't help but cry our shakily, whimpering at the sensation pulling at your core.
each thrust he makes with the toy is agony for your unprepared cunt, leaving you swollen and sore as he continues with his assault. pained cries echo throughout the basement, along with the sounds of könig's cruel, taunting laughter. you begin to feel your body reacting against you, your pussy becoming wetter and wetter the more he pushes inside, and your nipples perking. he rubs your clit, small circles leaving you an utter mess, and your orgasm approaching and waiting to happen.
you're stunned, muscles tensing and core tightening as your orgasm comes crashing down onto you. only the feeling of your kidnapper's bulge keeping you from giving in to his needs. you tighten around the rubber material, panting heavy, your panties still down your thighs and collecting the droplets of cum running down your pretty, supple thighs. your chest rises and falls as könig begins to unzip his jeans, one hand on your ass, spreading apart your ass cheeks.
fighting against him was useless, whatever he wanted, he got. you were evidence of that. you could squirm all you liked, but regardless of how many times you pleaded and begged for mercy, he'd have his way with you. you felt something hot, something bulbous run over your ass. he humped you sloppily; fucking his cock between your thighs, making a slick mess of your pussy before he would be ruining you and morphing your hole to fit his size.
“stop shaking’... the more you struggle, the more it'll hurt.” the feeling of könig's tip running between your folds was leaving your jaw slack with anticipation and terror, knowing that a man of his size would surely have a cock matching his statue...
he began pushing inside your slit, filling you up inch by inch. broken sobs filled the air, leaving your throat in stuttered moans as he began working his hips against your ass. he rocked his broad hips back and forth, dragging himself in and out to get you slick enough to take him fash and rough. “don’t worry-- you’ll enjoy it, mäusi.” he mocked, teasing you.
he spat a fat glob of saliva between your ass, watching as it ran down to your filled cunt, acting as lube for him to work his way inside. könig was practically splitting you apart on his big, veiny cock; destroying you for his own, selfish needs. a large hand came down to smack your ass, grunting at the pulsing sensation of your gummy walls around the girth of his large dick.
he began quickening his pace, not wasting a minute of his time inside you. könig's hand gripped your bound, tied wrists, tugging at them as he pumped his hot cock into you. the sound of laboured breathing was prominent and audible, groaning hoarsely and gutturally as you continue to clutch and latch onto his thick dick. “go on, little mouse. cry, cry for me to stop.” könig's sick and twisted enjoyment of your pain was depraved; it was filthy for him to get off to your fear like this.
his hand came around to pull the ball gag away from your lips, allowing your sobs to be heard. the impact of his tip against your cervix was agonizing, and he only got harder the faster he drove his hips into your ass. your cunny drooled around him instinctively, betraying you. god, you sure as hell didn't want any of this, this wasn't how your life was supposed to turn out — bruised and broken on the ground of a man's basement — but your body reacted regardless of what you thought; was pleasured by könig's punishments.
you cried loudly, a pained whine flowing from your puffy lips the longer his abuse went on. you were vulnerable when you were tied up; unable to fight him off of you, forced to surrender to his needs and greedy demands. your pussy became wetter, with euphoria dripping from your pretty pussy, allowing könig to fuck into you faster with ease.
pearly, white beads of thick cum began to ooze from könig's tip inside you. falling out into your cunny with each thrust, his potent release getting fucked deeper into your warm, wet walls. forced to listen to the sounds of könig's pleasure as he inflicted pain onto you for his own benefit. “such a bad girl. crying so loudly, that must be you’re desperate for more, ja? with the way your pretty pussy is squeezing my dick like this, i’m sure that's all you need...”
you weeped, sniffling at tears rolled down your tearstained, raw cheeks, burning and painful against your skin. the wind was knocked from your lungs as he pounded into you, silencing you as he fucked his potent arousal deeper into you, cumming with a low grunt when you tightened and throbbed around him one last time, before losing yourself and cumming all down his shaft. you buried your face into the dirty, concrete ground, ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you came all over him.
your dignity and decency was stripped of you, and the only thing you could do was gaze over at the glistening dildo, attempting to cover your pussy from him.
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v1x3n · 1 month
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youronlydarlin · 2 months
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Loser! Simon who's unaware of just how big his cock is. It's so stupidly fat, and he doesn't even know. Clueless why you're pushing your face deeper and deeper into the sheets, saying shit like "s' just the base, love". There's plenty more to go.
He's always so horny too, a monster tenting through his slacks at just the sight of you. Immediately honking your ass, whining in your ear about how much he misses your hole around him. Moments later he'll be begging to put it in, "jus' the tip" he says. But no, poor guy can't help it :( bullying his weeping cockhead against your hole, he's so clumsy that it even slips out a few times :(
He's already too far gone though, thinking with the wrong head. Panting like a dumb mutt while his hips move mindlessly. Ends up just fucking your cheeks. Shoots his load everywhere on your back n apologizes about ruining your shirt. He'll do the laundry, if you let him clean you up with his tongue, promise :(
a/n: uhhhh m'back...? Kinda?? M' still pretty busy, darlings 😭 but have this as a consultation for being dead 😢 ehehe here you go @chnets . Remember to always drink water, and eat!!
Yours, truly,
–Dolly
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Maid-up problems (Konig x maid!Reader)
Konig goes to a maid cafe. Billions must perish. Tags and CW: yandere Konig, obsessive and creepy behaviour, Konig is a bit of a perv, colonel loser Konig, maids and maid cafes, general fluff, slight age difference, slight size difference, mostly from Konig's pov. AO3
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— Welcome home, master. What your maid I get for you today, hm? König just died and went to heaven. Heaven consists of pretty girls running around in fluffy skirts, little aprons and putting on adorable headbands with white ruffles. Heaven filled with the smell of reheated pastries and pre-made snacks, with neutral sweet perfume and the stench of sweat from the customers. Heaven is filled with angels who run around in maid costumes and call him master – and all of this without going through the hassle of finding a cosplay-friendly prostitute in Vienna.
He honestly rolled his eyes the first time he saw the post about a new maid cafe opening in town. Horangi was the one to show him - the bastard didn’t even live in Austria and yet had followed all the news, maybe to only make fun of his colonel. He knows that the tiger has his dirty secrets too – ido girls, idol boys, some new band every week that he’d spend his paycheck to get all possible merch. Changing his gambling addiction to a k-pop one – all while his glorious commander is going crazy from the new maid hentai he just watched. Honestly embarrassing at his age…but he doesn’t care. He has money for the exclusive translations and elite figures – and he has some time on leave to visit the damn maid cafe. Then König meets you. He died, went to heaven and was greeted with an angel…no, a goddess. In a frilly apron, short skirt and adorable, albeit a bit embarrassed smile. You had your persona on – dorky and clumsy, useless little maid that customers liked to scold when you’d almost drop their drinks and then fake cry while apologizing. Some sadistic bastards like to play pretend by calling your manager while you’d beg for them not to. Some perverts with a hero complex would play into your pleads. König stares in awe as you drop the menu accidentally, not forgetting to show off your cleavage as you pick it up. Brushing it off with your finger, looking so tiny and shy…god, he fucking adores you already. — S…so sorry, master. Please, forgive me for dropping the- — It’s okay. Don’t worry, ja? 
He reaches for your hand, but you shoo it away. No touching – the cafe policy, as dumb as it sounds. He knows it’s for your own good, to protect you from perverts and creeps – but you shouldn’t be so scared about touching him. He would have to train you to do this after. nothing that a few touches of a good military discipline wouldn’t fix though – and he is very good at breaking down dumb recruits and annoyingly stubborn people. Oh. Right. He still kinda has to order. His gaze immediately flicks to the most expensive thing on the menu – an exclusive dessert, probably too sweet for his tastes. He will have to make do though – there isn’t much on the menu, certainly is zero alcohol so drunk guests wouldn’t harass the maid girls, and a tiny portion of an omelet with some ketchup hearts squeezed all over it certainly isn’t to his tastes either. No, König had his eyes – covered by glasses, of course, he didn’t want to show off his scars and the expression of a serial killer forced to work in mercenary forces to cute girls in ruffled aprons – on a different prize. You. 
And the exclusive photos and a hug from any waitress of the fine establishment that would come with this overpriced order. 
König has never seen the manager of this cafe, but he is ready to give them all money he has – just for implementing this feature into the menu. Just for selling off their girls to any customer who is willing to pay almost 50 Euros for a piece of a pretty regular cake and some coffee. 
You stare at his order for a few seconds, your mouth going agape. He is not hurt – it was weird, after all, for a guy like him to order something as silly as this. You’re probably weirded out, thinking that he accidentally put his finger on the order – but you know better than to ask again and risk him changing his mind. Your cafe gives off bonuses if guests want to take a picture with you so, naturally, you’re all smiles and nods, tilting your head to the side as you say, ever-so-sweetly, that you’d be back with his order. Now…is König ashamed of liking the pretty little maid so much? Not really, to be completely honest, he kinda adores having you around, and he’d pay even more for the opportunity to touch you. Too bad your cafe isn’t a front for some other body business – he’d be happy to raid it on the part of special forces and then save you from such a gruesome fate by making you his wife. 
König wonders if your cafe has themed days. Maybe catgirls, cosplay, maybe housewives. 
König wonders if he can get your number. Then his gaze falters to the reflection of his face in the screen of his phone – and, no, not going to happen. Not when he is fresh out of deployment, barely showered, and thrown a clean hoodie on which does very little to cover the smell of blood clinging to his body. It’s his cross to bear – his victims scratching at his ankles as the colonel sips on complimentary water from a pink glass and looks at all the other losers who coming to this fine establishment. 
You’re lucky it’s a slow day – if König saw you being so sweet and touchy with some other lousy customer, he might have shot the whole place up. Master does not tolerate his silly servant being so nice to others, after all. 
— Your coffee, master. 
He whips out a stack of bills already, way more than what he was supposed to pay even with the exclusive offer he ordered. Your mouth opens to stop him, to remind him of the actual price of everything – then he breaks whatever good intentions you had when he starts to speak, his voice muffled a bit because of his black surgical mask. 
— Do you have a boyfriend? 
Oh. 
Now, under normal circumstances, you’d yell for the manager to come and pick you up. You’d scream bloody murder and alert other girls and clients that you’re having a bad customer who is going into harassment mode very quickly – asking such personal questions at this place is something that shouldn’t be happening, no sir. Totally not happening. 
But…the work has been a bit slow lately. You didn’t get as many bonuses as you wanted to, and the rent is coming up, and the phone bill is getting more expensive…sometimes you just got unlucky and his a streak of customers not liking your particular archetype – so if this weird dude who is totally killing people in his spare time wants a bit more than usual service and is definitely ready to pay for it. 
You might have had a thing for guys in masks. Big, muscular guys in masks who looks like they can choke you with their thighs and then fucking destroy you. With money who can get you a bit closer to your savings goal. So, you’re not calling your manager, your friends, or the police. So, you play into the fantasy for a little bit, remembering all the acts your supervisors drilled into your head. — Of course I don’t, master. I’m here for you, remember? You smile and nod, hoping it will be enough. Hoping a guy like him could be satisfied with something as silly as this, something as tiny. You touch his hand a bit later, making sure to hold him for a while longer. A simple trick to enhance the amount of tip you can get – even tho you feel like playing with fire when you touch this guy so sweetly. 
And, oh, König is…done for. Smitten. Shot right in the heart through his cock, somehow. This man survived battle after battle, destroyed more small countries than there is letters in his real name, but he was defeated by a pretty girl in a maid outfit in a cafe made for incels and otaku wannabees. If any of his lower officers saw him right now, with ears and cheeks burning angry red, with his heavy breathing and obvious, but concealed by table hard-on, he would be done for. 
But, oh god, aren’t you just beautiful? 
Obviously embarrassed and maybe a bit shy – he thinks it’s probably just your persona, a way to milk tips from the customers who like to play dominant, but König doesn’t even need to play. He knows he’d have to take you by the end of your shift, whatever this time might be. He is not the best person for the romance job, but he’ll be damned if he let a pretty thing like you just run away like a silly girl you are. 
— Can I have your phone number? You want to say no, he can’t have your phone number. The guy smells of gunpowder and blood, looks like he is going to shoot the entire venue down if you disagree with him, and you do not want to die like a hero for a job that pays barely above minimum wage for the amount of public humiliation you have to endure to ensure good tips. The guy smells like danger and a bad time and a long conversation with your manager about the types of guests that they allow into this fine establishment. 
You want to say no and yell but, then again, there are multiple factors that are screaming against such rush decisions. A huge chunk of money he still has in his valet is, embarrassingly enough, one of the biggest decision-making points. — We’re not really allowed to give our phone numbers, master… His hand goes to his pocket. 
You’re not sure if he is touching his cock, his gun, or another stack of bills right now – but all of the options are kinda making you want to die before you can check your answers. It’s going to be bad either way, so you tilt your head to the side, trying to look as innocent as possible. 
— But I can make an exception! 
He actually startles, looking at you like you just agreed to marry him. You probably would, with enough bullet threats – but you still bite your tongue, not wanting to give the crazy guy an idea. You actually don’t know if he is crazy or not – but taking your chances isn’t something you want to do on a nice Monday dead work day. 
You can see relief in his eyes. A little wrinkles of smile, too – his mouth is covered by a mask, but you’re almost sure he is grinning like an idiot under this thing. Oh no…you just insulted a customer in your mind. It’s really bad for business. 
You write your number down and pass it right to his hand without anyone noticing…you hoped so, at least – you don’t want other customers to order the same special treatment and you know that the manager would have your head for overstepping the rules so much. No one would care that you’re saving this fucked up place from a massacre – they would only care about arbitrary rule-breaking. You lick your lips and smile as his hand lingers on you a bit too long. 
His hands are big and warm, too – you’re getting lost in the touch, as he carefully caresses the back of your palm with his thumb. He is…surprisingly tender. As much as a killing machine can be tender, of course – but you do appreciate a softer, milder touch. You do appreciate his hands on your body, caressing it softly and maybe even leaning you for a kiss and a quick…
Oh god, what are you thinking. You need to stop, immediately. 
He pulls from his table suddenly and you almost feel like you fucked up, somehow. Maybe he did wanted something a big more than what you were willing to give, maybe this guy wanted you in a way that was not friendly for the cafe – but he swoops you by your waist before you could say anything before your hands could go upright and smack him – and you stop right before hearing him saying the dreadful words. The words you wished he wouldn’t have enough money to say. 
God, this is hopeless. 
— Can I get my special offer now? 
König makes it sound like the special offer would include you on your knees, choking on his cock. König makes it sound like it would include you on your back, taking pounding from him while he tugs on your dumb apron and tells you to cry for your master. König makes it sound like the short skirt of your outfit was not covering you enough, he makes it sound perverted, horrible, utterly despicable, he makes it sound like…
God, he doesn’t have enough self-control for you. 
You just…look so scared. Nervous. You play with the fabric of your costume in your hands as the other maid – some faceless pretty thing for him, with his eyes glued to your side anyway – was making pictures. Polaroid, is overpriced for a couple of photos he will get…but he doesn’t care if he has to blow off an entire contract bonus if that means getting some bonus from you. 
He gets to hold your waist and it’s so easily to imagine digging his fingers to your sides as he fucks you with as much passion as he could gather. It’s easy to imagine his cock pumping into you, your tummy bulging from the sheer size difference between you and him – poor thing, you’d probably be terrified as he would force himself onto you. Maybe you’d clutch your little apron adorably and beg for him to stop. Maybe you’d ask him to be rougher and more passionate – to make you his in all sorts of ways. He just…he can’t imagine not taking you home after this. 
He hugged you, it’s basically a marriage proposal already. 
You try your best to ignore the way his hand slips down, almost to the point of groping your ass. You ignore it, the girl who is taking the pictures ignores it too. No one wants a scandal, no one wants to point this out – everyone knows how tips are made here, and you sure as hell won’t be putting yourself in danger just because you feel his giant hand fondling you through the fabric of your silly dress. You forgot the protective shorts too - so there is only a matter of underwear and skirt between his hand and your ass. 
Somehow, the sensation isn’t as terrible as you want it to be. Somehow, you feel like tips aren’t the only thing that keeps you from screaming at him. 
König died and went to heaven – this much is obvious. He is taking a picture with a pretty girl, he touches a pretty girl in maid's suit and she doesn’t even say anything to him. He just went out from a successful contract that would keep his pockets full for a few months and went straight for his savings, and he killed more people than the last week – god, life is fucking beautiful. He fondles your ass with his hand, other is awkwardly limp to his side, and he already knows that he will be a regular here. 
He hates getting his pictures taken – it’s normal for people in his line of work, being a mercenary and a socially active person isn’t something wise if you don’t want an enemy finding out where you live, but he doesn’t really care anymore – he will keep the pictures with you, hold it in his wallet and put a spare one in his vest pocket. You can be his little guardian angel, the pretty girl who is waiting for him to return. 
And he does have your number with him. 
— Are you happy with the pictures, master? 
You tilt your head and König forces down the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you. They way you say this, the way you call him master – he simply can’t resist, not when you’re too fucking adorable to miss out on. He knows it’s inappropriate, he knows you’re just working here, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving a hefty tip and making sure you know exactly what made him leave so much. 
God, he can’t wait to make you his. 
König wonders if you’d agree to wear a skimpier outfit once you’re at the safety of his house. 
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