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#grumbling in german
cannibalhellhound · 3 months
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More wings au because if you don't use your wings as a blanket why do they even exist?
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Mav is clingy and Ice loves it
I'll add watercolor tomorrow because it's 3am ✌🏼
(end result)
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redwinterroses · 2 years
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People keep reblogging my "stop abusing epithets in your writing and here's why" with tags and replies that are like "Yeah, but you can do it when it's deliberate or in this specific scenario" and like--
Duh? Yes. Of course you can. That's not the point. That's like saying "don't misspell words" and people responding "But if you're writing this hyper-specific scenario you can misspell things to convey a specific mood or character mindset"-- YEAH YOU CAN.
That wasn't my point, lol. My point was: Dear amateur/fic writers, stop referring to your main characters as "the older" (the older WHAT??) and "the man" (he's the LOVE INTEREST. Use his name.) and "the [color]ette" (do not do not do not refer to your main characters by their hair color. I am begging you.)
Yes there are times you can break the rules. But only if you learn to follow them first.
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hydrangeawise · 1 year
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Okay, quick question, hat noch jemand als Kind einen lasting cultural impact/psychic damage von Männer sind Schweine von den Ärzten erhalten, im Sinne von: wenn ich meinen felinen Mitbewohner mit "Hallo, mein Schatz" begrüße, rate mal, was dann in meinem Hirn losdudelt.
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wistfulvulpine · 9 months
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thelaisydazy · 2 months
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Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Routine
It’s 5AM. Bloody five in the goddamn morning. The sun isn’t up and you’re barely awake as you unlock the bakery door, but a hulking shape startles you awake as you notice the man and German Shepherd standing outside. The man stares down at you as the dog wags its tail. He’s blond, almost freakishly so with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. You can’t see the rest of his face thanks to the black privacy mask with the lower portion of a skull painted on it. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans tucked into sturdy boots and a black hoodie.
“G’morning,” he says, tilting his head as he watches you wipe a hand down your tired face. He doesn’t even apologize for scaring you. 
You hold the door open for him and his dog. He’s a regular from the firehouse just down the street. You'd think you would have gotten used to him lurking around the front door, yet every morning you go through the same thing. 
“We have danishes and turnovers today,” you say, leading him over towards the freshly stocked counter. The bakery smelled of fresh bread and sugary pastries, it made your stomach grumble, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten yet. Before you can slip behind the counter, his dog nudges your elbow. You turned with a smile, rubbing both your hands on his ears before walking behind the counter. “What’ll it be then?”
“Danish,” the firefighter said, his gaze never leaving you. You reached into the case and pulled out a pair of danishes, one cherry and one cheese. You never bothered asking him what flavors he preferred, he never seemed to care what he had. You also grabbed a couple of dog treats from a jar near the register. 
He reached for his wallet but you swatted his hand away when he tried to hand you a few dollars. Your boss insisted that keeping the local first responders fed was more important than profit. You walked around the counter again, watching as the firefighter met you by a little table near the front window. You place the pastries down, slipping a treat to the dog before sitting across from him. 
You both sit quietly while you eat the cheese danish. He doesn’t touch his, never does. He always just sits with you while you eat and takes his breakfast to go. It’s odd, but he never complains, and surely if he had a problem with it he’d say something. 
“You know..” you start. “I know Riley’s name.” You gesture to the dog, who was currently resting his head in your lap. “But you still haven’t told me your’s.”
“Simon.” His voice is blunt, that same flat tone he always used. 
“Simon..” you say back. “I like it.” 
You have no idea what hearing you say his name does to him. It sets his heart racing. His mouth waters. He swears, he’d die just to hear you say it again.
---
The brain rot is so real. I just wanna eat him up.
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Napping with König
My blog is 18+ Minors DNI.
This is just another Fluffy piece.
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Napping with the behemoth of a man that is Colonel König is one of the few things that truly calm you down after a long, stressful week.
“That’s it, Biene, rest your little head on my chest,” he coos as he wraps his strong arms around you. You’re face down on his front, legs straddling his hips as you tangle your fingertips in his hair.
He needs a haircut.
“What did you just call me Kö?” You grumble sleepily as you burrow your nose into his t-shirt. He smells like Old Spice and your floral fabric softener. You inhale the familiar scent as you feel your body slowly loosening, relaxing.  
“Biene,” he repeats as he chuckles softly, “It means bee,” he explains as he places a kiss to your head.
“At least it’s not Schnecke,” you huff, eliciting another amused chuckle from the large man beneath you.
"I'm sorry that German isn’t as flowery and pretty as Spanish or Italian,” he says and you can hear the pout in his voice. He’s teasing you but you play along.
“No sense of humour, calling your partner a snail, such boring people,” you say with a smile as you feel the tension leaving your shoulders.
“Hey, Austrians have a sense of humour,” he chides you gently as he rubs his hands up and down your back, warm and soothing. You groan softly as he digs his fingertips into your tense shoulder blades.
“Yeah? Prove it,” You slur as you feel sleep pulling at the edge of your mind, the low rumbling of König’s voice lulling you off to sleep already.
“What do you call a bear with no teeth?”
“Dunno,” you grumble.
“A gummy bear,” he whispers, like it’s the best kept secret.
You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, it’s silly and not deserving of an actual reaction. But it makes your stomach flutter, your affection for this man knows no bounds.
“Boo,” you groan into his chest.
“How do you throw a party in space?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh.
“You planet.”
“Stop,” you groan, your smile making your cheeks hurt as he squeezes you tight.
“What kind of car does an egg drive?”
“Kö, stop,” you giggle as you feel his own body shake with silent laughter.
“A Yolkswagen.”
“You’re terrible,” you hiss as you lean up and give him your best angry glare.
“But it made you feel better, no?” He counters, his ice-blue eyes glittering with amusement as he meets your gaze.
“It did, thank you,” you shakes you head as you flop back down onto his chest, “Now let me sleep.”
“As you wish, Biene.”
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“Just resting my eyes” (Napping with Ghost) Napping with Captain John Price Napping with Gaz Napping with Soap CoD Masterlist
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roosterr · 8 months
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whatchya got, boy?
note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.
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pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader
wc: 4.4k
summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.
warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence
ao3
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soap has never liked dogs.
when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.
until recently, it hasn't been a problem.
then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.
price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;
oh. your partner is a dog.
a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.
he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.
"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.
"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.
"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."
"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.
"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.
when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.
he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.
"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.
you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.
"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.
"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."
"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"
"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."
after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 
whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.
you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.
it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.
he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.
you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.
"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."
you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."
the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.
now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.
you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.
"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.
"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."
you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"
before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.
the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.
as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.
the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.
the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.
it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.
johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.
propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.
"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."
ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.
"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."
there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.
as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.
"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.
"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.
the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.
"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.
but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.
"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.
the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.
"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.
"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."
johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.
a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.
"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."
before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 
"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.
he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–
johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.
white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 
no.
everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.
no.
johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.
"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"
"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.
"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.
he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
it wasn't supposed to go like this.
you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–
you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.
"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."
he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.
he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.
"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.
he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
your dog is standing in front of him.
"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"
rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.
the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.
the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.
a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.
but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.
johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.
rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.
after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.
as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.
johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.
ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.
the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.
"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"
rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.
the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."
rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.
he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.
johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.
the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.
"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"
rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.
johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.
his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–
"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"
it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.
"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"
the rest is a blur.
they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.
when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.
it's four days until you wake up.
he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.
he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.
"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.
"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"
"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."
a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.
it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.
there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.
before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.
you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.
"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"
johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.
"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.
the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.
"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.
"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."
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tagging: @cheezbites
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lxvvie · 6 months
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On today's episode of Simps-R-Us: A Drunken Mind Speaks Sober Thoughts, or how your faves show their love after a night out.
cw: alcohol/alcohol consumption.
Capt. John Price - Will gently hold the sides of your face, bring your foreheads together, and peer into your eyes with his own hazy ones. Price tells you how happy you've made an old man like him, that he loves you, and that YOU and only YOU can wear his hat. Solidifies this by actually putting his hat on your head, scooping you up in his arms, and holding you close. And yes, you'll be sleeping like this with your face smothered in his chesticles.
Gaz - Walks into your shared place pretty much blabbering about how you just... "get him". You get his choices in horror films, you get his thinking process, you get his love language (pranking), you just GET HIM. And he doesn't want anyone else to get him and he'll fall out of another helicopter again before he lets someone else get him. ...How did he wind up under the living room table, though?
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Alex Keller - The one who's leaning against the bedroom doorway just looking all dreamily and shit at you with his hair all kinds of messed up. Keller is practically crooning 'Boss' at you so you can look at him and he can blow you a kiss. Alex, please get the fuck in bed. He chuckles and shakes his head no 'cause he's too busy enjoying the view and doesn't wanna miss a thing. KELLER, PLEASE—
Soap - (Based on this ask. Thanks for the inspiration, @cas-backwards-tie!) Soap loves you SOOOO much, so, so, so much, goddamnit, that he learned to say it. He learned the say the thing. Yeah... he didn't. It didn't even sound remotely like the thing but you can't tell him shit. Now give him a kiss for being a good boy. His kiss was nowhere near your lips, either. That'll do, Soap. That'll do.
Ghost - Is the clingiest koala bear on the fucking planet and it's adorable. How clingy, might you ask? Well, his arms are wrapped around you, he has your head tucked under his chin, and he's intertwined his legs with yours. You feel the throaty rumble of "Love you" from Simon's chest and it lulls you to sleep. And then you realize he still has his clothes on. Try to move and see how he tightens his grip ever so slightly. You chuckle and let him know he has to undress and to that, you hear and feel the soft grumble of his "Noooooo...." because don't go. Not when he just got you. This shit is one for the storybooks, though. Simon fucking Riley... WHINING?!
Alejandro - His hair is also mussed. Isn't as stern-looking. Actually has the goofiest, boyish grin on his face. Alejandro pretty much strokes your cheek and tells you verbatim that you make him a better man. Then he proceeds to cover your face in kisses, all while relishing in your giggles.
Rudy - The one who tripped over his own two feet trying to get to you, also missed the mark when trying to kiss you, and fell off the bed. Also falls asleep mid-sentence when trying to tell you he loves you.
König - You actually woke up to hearing König profess his love. Has a tendency to really enunciate Schatz in a somewhat singsong voice. Sings a lullaby in his native German. He tells you he loves you, and over and over again he confesses his love. Then you look up and see him actually cuddling the pillow tightly. Oh. Okay. How cute. You just sit and watch the entire thing. You know like hell König will be mortified when you tell him this story.
Horangi - He'd already come home and settled down for the night. Then, as if he had an epiphany, Horangi sat up from his side of the bed, got all up in your face, and told you how he'd go through hell as a gambler over and over again just to be with you over and over and OVER again. That's so sweet, Horangi, now back to bed you go.
Graves - The one who'll serenade you (Graves can sing?), call out for his Darlin' repeatedly, burp, and tell you he loves you all while in the bathroom taking the longest piss known to man. Good to know, Graves.
Valeria - Actually came home a little pissed because some stupid fuck thought he could talk about how attractive he found you in front of her. Hopefully the broken jaw sent a clear message because she couldn't be bothered to do anything else. She ends her story with a "You're mine!" and plants a big, fat one on your lips. Oh, Valeria.
Roach - He's the one blowing your phone up with text messages and emojis showing his love. Then he reveals that he got lost and could you please come find him? Except he's already in the house. You find him in the dark, grinning like an idiot at the messages he sent you on his phone, and he's so happy that you found him!
Keegan - Is the one staring into your soul after he kissed your forehead so sweetly. You okay, Keegan? "Yes. No. ...Maybe? Baby, jus' let me love you."
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norrisleclercf1 · 18 days
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may i request... poly sebchal... but make it mafia? 😙😙😙😙
A/N: Love Mafia!Sebchal cause Ferrari Sebastian is Mafia coded
"Pretty please," You blink up down at Sebastian, pouting as he sat at his desk doing paperwork. You would bother Charles but he stuck on a work call with his friends Carlos and Pierre figuring out a deal. Instead, you picked Sebastin, even though you know he'd be harder to convince to let you go shopping.
"Schat, I just bought you an entire store of jewels, do you really need to go shopping?" He grumbles, glaring at a report and cursing it in german. "Seb," You drawl out of the b, stomping your foot gently. You know acting like a brat sometime got him to cave.
"Y/n, what is it you really want?" He spins in his chair, yanking on your waist and has you falling into his lap. Sliding your legs so you straddle his you bite your bottom lip. "I want to get new lingerie," You move slowly, just enough he doesn't notice but enough for you to feel his against your core.
He stops, and glares at you before eyes softening. "Did we ruin your new ones already?" He groans, hands tightening on your waist. "Yes," Sebastian leans back, noticing how one of his men was trying to get attention. "Alright, go ask Charles, use the black card." Smiling you jump up, but turn around and kiss him before bolting down the hall to Charles office.
You notice that he's thumping his head on the desk as Pierre laughs loudly and Carlos is cursing in spanish. "Charlie? Wanna go lingerie shopping with me?" His head shoots up and clicks something on his keyboard and stands fast. Almost tripping over his feet he grabs your hand and drags you through the house to the garage.
"Seb says we can use the black card," Charles chuckles. "Fuck the black card, can we," He trails off and you smirk pulling him in by his collar. "Yes, you can fuck me in the dressing room." Charles groans and smacks your ass. "Get in,"
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months
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(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, sloppy oral, biting/marking, rough sex. bad german pickup lines)
continuing the part before: visiting his humble abode
Hanging off König’s shoulder.
There honestly isn’t a better place to be, except for maybe right under him. My fingers dig into his back, holding onto him, even though I am secure on his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs easily, I don’t even hear him panting a little harder. And the view on his ass is delicious. I want to pinch it. Or smack it.
My intrusive thoughts win, I stretch down and the palm of my hand collides with his behind, even making a little sound, while I giggle.
“Stop it.” Another spank onto my butt, his hand staying there this time. “It was my plan to show you the whole house first, and then take you to my bedroom…”, he grumbles, but amusement comes through in his voice. “But I should’ve known that you and your bratty ass are not gonna adhere to such an arrangement.” He squeezes my asscheek, his fingers lingering a bit longer, and even that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I just wanted to know if the king had a king-sized bed, I swear.”, I joke, stifling back a laugh.
“Aha.”, he drawls skeptically. “And that’s all?”
“Yep.”, I answer, knowing full well that I know and he knows, that that is in fact not all.
It’s just a few steps from the top of the stairs to the bedroom, when I hear the click of a door and then the light switch. He enters the room and I crane my neck, all nosily, trying to look around. The bedframe, sturdy dark wood, and some bedsheets is all I see before he lifts me from his shoulder again.
“Well, your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he says, the last word sounding a lot like ‘princess’. “I do indeed have a king-sized bed.”
He sets me down on the mattress, lying me down more carefully than I would have liked, to be honest. I look up – and I’m staring back at myself, strewn on the soft sheets. My mouth falls open.
“You have a mirror on your ceiling?”, I ask incredulously. It’s an unnecessary question because – well, I can see that he does have a fucking mirror on the ceiling.
“I do.” He smiles, looking up as well. “You can cover it up, if you don’t wanna watch yourself sleep, but I thought it would be fun for other horizontal activities that don’t involve any actual sleep.”
My breath halts in my throat as I think about his insinuation and unholy images flood my mind. Me riding him, only held up by his arms, while he makes me look up, his hand around my throat. His body strewn over mine, the long strands of his hair cascading down his tattooed back, his huge stature moving with his thrusts. Him sitting back on his knees, spreading my legs wide, so I can see how he’s pounding into me in the mirror above.
“What, nothing to say now, Kleine?” His deep soft voice pulls me out of my little daydream, smirking down at me. And I just shake my head. “Didn’t think I would ever see you speechless.”, he continues teasing me.
I sit back up, looking up at him, which has me craning my head back with the way he is towering over me. “I’m not, look, full sentences are coming out my mouth.”
He smirks at me. “I can see that.” He comes a bit closer still, his hand gripping my chin softly, his thumb strokes over my lower lip, pulling it down a little bit. “So, it’s not just good for mouthing off at me, huh?”
Instead of an answer, my tongue darts out, licking the pad of his thumb. My mouth closing around it, softly sucking once, releasing the digit with a pop. “No.” All the messages I sent him this morning about wanting to suck his dick flood the forefront of my mind.
His gaze darkens, while the smirk widens. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, then we move even faster. He pulls off his shirt and I do the same, also getting rid of my bra. He helps me with my pants, and when they’re finally on the floor, his hand moves to his belt, opening it, but I softly coax them away, taking over, while I scramble to sit on my legs until I am kneeling in front of him.
Opening the button, lowering the zipper. And instead of the boxershorts I expected, like the ones I saw on the photos he sent this morning – I’m greeted by his hard dick.
Damn. He isn’t wearing any underwear.
I look up at him, being met with a cocky grin.
“Allzeit bereit.”, he comments.
“What?” I can’t hide my confusion.
“’Be prepared’, the scout motto, you know.”, he explains, like that is some common knowledge.
“Uh-huh? So, you’re always prepared for a blowjob?”, I ask him, tauntingly, pulling up one eyebrow. My hands still rest at his zipper, my fingers twitching to finally touch him.
“Well, no, but after all the talking about how you would take me in your mouth this morning...”, he answers, the cockiness not faltering.
“Then why are we still talking about the scout motto, big guy?”, I ask him, a little challenge in my voice.
His reaction is a little sway forward, until the tip rests against my mouth. “Are we?”, he asks, the insinuation sending a shiver down my spine.
His piercing drags across my lower lip and my tongue darts out to lick it. The groan dropping from his throat, the low gravelly sound, makes me do it again. Teasing his tip, until his hips are rutting forward on their own and I drop my jaw, slowly trying to fit more of him into my mouth. I close my lips around his thickness, softly sucking on him.
Pulling back again. Gripping the base of his cock with my hand as I press kisses on it, softer than he probably would have liked. He’s squirming a little bit under my touches, his fingers coasting through my hair, moving it out of my face.
I look up at him meeting his eyes, continuing the teasing touches, until he pushes himself inside my hot wet mouth again.
“Look up.”, he says, pointing at the ceiling. And my eyes turn up further, my neck straining back.
The picture mirrored back to me is pornographic, to say the least.
We’re both looking up at the ceiling, my face turned up, my back and ass fully on display, my legs tucked under it, with the way I’m sitting in front of him. His hand at the back of my neck.
König’s broad chest is taking up so much space, even as he’s leaning back to get a good look at me. The happy trail leading down. My hand lying there, feeling the soft tufts of hair underneath my fingertips.
Our bodies connected with my mouth around his dick.
I suck on him, licking the underside of his shaft, while still looking up, and I can see how his eyes roll back, his pupils disappear, only the whites of his eyes shining.
I move my hand down to his base, cupping his balls, softly tugging. The choked moan from his lips only spurs me on. He grabs me by the back of my head, softly moving me to the rhythm of his hips.
“You teased me all day about using your mouth on me, so I’m really enjoying this right now.”, he whispers, pushing his dick deeper, and I drop my jaw and stick out my tongue to fit more of him.
He hits the back of my throat which has me gag around him while he’s still not nearly fitting into my mouth, not even close. The next push of his dick is even deeper, and my eyes turn up, and I feel like I’m going cross-eyed. I move up and down, as far as I can, blowing him like this. It gets sloppy, messy, spit dripping from my lips. Dropping down onto my tits and tummy.
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, a drop running over my cheek. His hand moves from the back of my head to my face, his thumb stroking over it. “So fucking pretty.”, he coos. He pulls back and I take a deep breath, the sound filling the room instead of my gagging.
But I don’t stop. I use my saliva that’s now coating part of his length to jerk him off, moving my hand down, while I let my tongue play with the piercing on his tip again. Tasting hints of salty precum, as I look up at him. Holding eyecontact while I drag my tongue over it, slowly.
“Oh fuck.”, he almost growls, and the sound sends a zap of pleasure right to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. I feel the urge to touch myself, my hand snaking down between my thighs.
He sees that and tuts, the clicks of his tongue filling the room. “So needy.”, he mutters softly, his hips rutting forward, pushing past my lips again. Fucking into my mouth, as my fingertips reach my clothed pussy, pressing onto my sensitive clit.
I moan around his dick, letting him take the lead, his fingers tangled in my hair, while I touch myself, my hips moving with my desperate strokes. Getting sloppier again.
All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me. “Fuck, not yet.”, he says, seeming a bit worked up. Crouching down and capturing my lips into a searing kiss, as he positions me against his sheets, continuing the kisses down my body.
I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, hard and heavy, glistening wet with my spit, before he kneels in front of me. His fingers hook under the fabric of my panties, pulling them off. They cling onto me, with how damp they are.
“So wet, hm? Did it turn you on to suck me off?”, he whispers, seeing the wetness glistening between my thighs, as he leans down, coasting with his lips over my pussy.
“Yes, fuck.”, I breathe, trying to squirm against his face, but he is just out of reach. He chuckles when I whine, desperate for him to finally put his mouth onto me. And he does, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin.
Close, so close, but not quite where I want him.
He sucks on the soft skin, leaving little red marks, his left hand toying with my pussy. My hips move of their own volition and I can’t believe how the almost-touches make me even more turned on. “Please, I need-“, I start.
I can’t finish the sentence because his teeth sink into my soft flesh, while his fingers slip into me, the sensations almost making me lose my mind. He pushes deeper inside me, and I feel his canines press into the sensitive skin. Fuck, this is driving me crazy.
I lift my head to look at what he’s doing, and our eyes meet. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to the spot he just bit into, licking over it. His fingers still fucking me softly.
“Don’t stop.”, I plead.
The corners of his mouth turn up into a knowing smirk while he places more kisses, slowly inching in on my pussy, leaving another little hickey on my inner thigh. He pulls the digits out and puts his mouth right over it.
The slow, deliberate touches are gone. In a frenzy, he’s losing himself in my pussy, licking, sucking, nudging his nose against my clit. I move with him, dragging myself over his lips, searching for more friction, and the sounds that drop from my mouth are almost obscene.
My head drops back and I have the whole scene mirrored back to me from above. The strands of his long dark hair cascading down. His back tattoo, the black ink on his taut muscles, moving with him, as he eats me out.
How he grips my thighs, his hands digging into the supple swells. Spreading me wide for him.
He looks up at me, seeing the awe on my face, hearing the sounds I’m making, which makes him hum against me. Diving in again. His tongue licks into me, fucking me, and my back arches off the sheets, my hands clutching them. Close, so close to-
Ding-dong!
We’re interrupted by the bell.
He lifts his head, seeming a little drunk on pussy, judging by the drowsy look on his face. “Fuck, that’s the delivery.”, he stammers and the back of his hand wipes over his mouth.
“What delivery?”, I ask, confused and hazy with pleasure, propping my head up from the sheets.
“Food.”, he explains, and like on cue, my stomach grumbles.
He pulls away from me, looking around, picking up random pieces of clothing. He scrambles to put a shirt and shorts on while I can’t help but laugh because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thats on you, Mädl, for messing with my meticulously planned evening, with your siren call.”, he grumbles, which only makes me laugh harder.
He fits his dick into his pants, the erection tenting up the front, and he grumpily pulls his shirt down further, even though that doesn’t really help either with hiding it. “Fuck it.”, he cusses and heads out the room, cursing some more in German.
I shake my head, grinning like a crazy person.
I also look for some clothes, but I’m not quite bold enough to reach for any of his shirts, putting on my own and then my panties, following him down the stairs.
“Ooh, you remembered my favourite spot!”, I say when I see the huge bag with the familiar logo on it in his hands.
He grins at me, and my god, a man has never looked that good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt and some old Adidas shorts that are almost too tight for his burly thighs. He pushes his hair to the side, pulling it out of the t-shirt, because some of it got caught in there when he hurriedly put it on. “Of course. Should I put it in the kitchen oooor…?”, he asks.
“Can we eat now? I’m actually a little hungry, I didn’t have a big lunch.”, I tell him hesitatingly. Swaying from one bare foot to the other, looking down at them. Unsure, because I mean, we were in the middle of-
But he pushes my doubts away in just a moment, putting his arm around me and pressing a tiny kiss onto the top of my head. “Sure, can’t have you go hungry, hm?” and the relief lets my shoulders drop down, even if my worries were a bit stupid to begin with.
“You want to eat at the bar?”, he suggests then, his eyebrows raised as he grins at me.
“Wha- You have a bar in this house?”, I clarify.
He nods. “Yeah, like a whole room with- Come on. I’ll just show you.” He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, as he pulls me with him, the bag full of take-away food in the other one. Way too much for two people.
When I follow him downstairs, it first dawns on me that we never really held hands before. It seems so simple, so normal – so natural, that I don’t even register it at first. I smile to myself, gripping his hand tighter, trying to keep up with his steps.
I have to say, the house is meticulously upkept, there’s yet a spot I have to see untidy or dusty. Which is… kind of amazing, especially considering that he only stays here on his leave. The same goes for his cellar that is more like another floor, where we halt in front of two doors. He gestures in the direction of the right one, while actually stepping towards the one on the left. “That’s my home gym and that’s the bar.”, he says.
“You… also… have a gym?”, I ask, a bit incredulous. Man, this house is bigger than I thought, when I first saw it from the outside.
“Yeah, I mean I train almost every day. Uh, holding up my shape doesn’t get easier with age.”, he explains, with a lopsided smile. Of course he works out. I’ve seen his body and my god. Sure, he has his little tummy – that I adore –, but his strength clearly comes from a lot of hard training. It makes sense that he also keeps this up when on leave.
“Can I take a look?”, I ask, being my nosy self.
He shrugs, but smiles. “Sure.”
For a moment, I regret asking that, because I have to let his hand go. I sigh and pop my head in the door. Nice standard equipment, not a lot of machines. A treadmill, and a lot of weights, barbells and dumbbells. It looks any other gym would, right down to the mirrors spanning the whole wall (he seems to like those); you would have never guessed it was a private one in a cellar.
The star of the show is definitely the little bar next door. I enter the room right after him, chuckling a bit to myself when I see him ducking his head to fit through doorframe – even in his own home.
A worn-out leather couch to the left. The dark grey painted wall behind it is littered with plaques like you would find in a pub.
A pool table at the right side of the room, and then the mahogany bar on the back wall right in the middle. Bottles of liquor in rows, glasses in all shapes and sizes. When he flicks the light switch behind the bar, all of it lights up, in a warm orange hue.
Another fridge, with a glass door, though it’s half empty.
Three bar stools lined up neatly in front of the bar and I take a seat on one of them, feeling the leather top against my bare ass and thighs, with how my t-shirt rides up.
He sets the take-away bag down on the counter, getting two plates from one of the lower cabinets and two forks. Then he starts unpacking, producing container after container until I think there might be more people joining us, with how much he ordered.
“Take whatever you want, I’ll eat the rest.”, he tells me, waiting for me to actually do that.
“Is uh-“, I start, but he interrupts me with a smile. “Everything’s vegetarian, Liebes.”, he nods. “I checked. Twice.”
My face lights up and I look at the containers, inspect the different dishes and put a little bit of everything on my plate. With a double portion of the little spring rolls I like so much. He waits until I’m done getting my plate together and then just dumps one of the meals onto his.
I watch him eat, as he’s leaning against the counter, shoveling huge amounts of food in his mouth, while being very meticulous and methodical about it. Eating efficiently. This man eats to sustain, not to enjoy. There are parts of him, that I think are shaped by his profession, and this seems to be one of them.
I hide the half-smile that stalks onto my face as I see him standing there behind the bar, casually wolfing down the first plate of food, then a second one. I rope him into a conversation of how he put the room together while we have dinner like this. My feet dangle above the ground as I eat spoonsful of delicious Asian take-away, very content with sitting here like this. With him.
He looks back at the wall behind him, like an idea just came to his mind, and then back at me. I pull up one of my eyebrows, still munching on a spring roll.
“You want a cocktail?”, he asks me, grinning.
“Uh, sure, you know how to make one?”, I return the question.
“Äh, ja-ah! If I wasn’t a soldier, I would’ve become a bartender, for sure.”, he jokingly states, winking at me, and I almost melt into the floor. “I can make a decent enough drink.”, he then clarifies, the spark in his eyes still a little mischievous. “So, what do you want then? A moscow mule? Or a dirty martini?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Or an orgasm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't help but laugh, even though I roll my eyes at him.
"Brute.”, I take a jab at him. “My favourite is actually a gin fizz.", I say, then.
"Really? I did not see that coming.", he comments.
"Why?"
"I don't know, maybe I expected something sweet tasting. Like you." His gaze darkens, while he is still grinning at me. A sudden hunger glints in his eyes while he looks at me, like he's thinking about it. How he ate me out when we got so rudely interrupted, by the delivery – even though it was delicious.
A tingle runs up my spine, just from the way he's looking at me. I suppress a shiver, because the feeling doesn't dissipate when his eyes drop away, looking around the bar.
"Hmm, I think I have a fresh lemon here somewhere.", he mutters to himself.
I prop my cheek on my arm, that’s leaning on the bar, and watch him fix me the drink.
He takes a crystal tumbler from the shelves and inspects some of the bottles, until he decides on one. I don't know the brand, but it certainly looks fancy. Ice cubes into the shaker, simple sirup and gin following shortly.
He’s almost dancing behind the bar counter, with the way he’s getting the ingredients, preparing this rather simple drink.
He cuts the lemon in half and just squeezes it, the juice dripping down into the shaker. Another person might have used a citrus-press. Not him though.
His hair whipping back and forth as he turns around, putting the top on the shaker and hitting the top once. A little spank that I feel…somewhere else… for reasons.
He starts to shake the cocktail, and it’s ridiculous how small the shaker is in his huge hands, he doesn’t even need both to hold it shut. Watching my reaction as he flips and spins it between his fingers, the ridiculous movements pulling laughs from me. Repeating the ones that do. The huge burly man, being the scary looking dude he is, while at the same time not being scary at all. At least not to me. When he’s here with me, like this.
He pours the drink over the ice cubes and fills the rest of the glass with soda, just like the recipe calls for. Taking the little zest of lemon he saved, squeezing it once and then putting it in.
König takes a sip, trying it. ‘Not bad’ is what the grimace on his face tells me before he hands me the tumbler and I take a drink. The bitter notes of gin and the sour sting of lemon juice hit my tongue.
“Nice drink, barkeep.”, I say, taking another sip and put the drink down in front of him. He drinks as well, downing at least half with one single gulp.
“Sind Sie eigentlich öfter hier?”, he asks me, with a sultry smile, not seeming serious at all.
“What does that mean? Funny man, I don’t speak your language.”, I tell him.
He laughs. “It’s flirtingly asking somebody if they come here often. It became a running gag in German as a bad pickup line.”
"Really? And that works?", I ask, skeptically pulling an eyebrow up.
He shrugs, leans forward, against the bar, coming closer and closer, until his face is just inches from mine. "No, it doesn't, but if I see a beautiful woman, I have to try it nonetheless.", he almost purrs. His fucking voice deeper than I ever heard it before. With the way he's looking at me, pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, he pulls me in.
His fingers softly stroke over the inside of my arm, until the thumb reaches my pulsepoint, the pad pressing into it lightly – just once – before he pulls it closer and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin. His eyes don’t break away from mine for even a moment.
My mouth falls open. My breath is getting caught in my throat and I can feel a pang of need between my thighs, the tingling feeling trickling up my spine.
He straightens back up again, just a little bit, beaming at me with a cocky grin. "See, and that works every time.", he taunts me.
"Well, I'll say.", I answer, still a little out of breath, which makes him laugh, but also come closer again.
"Yeah?", he asks softly. "You think, I can get a kiss from the beautiful woman at the bar like this?"
I nod, lifting myself off the barstool, to meet his lips in a kiss. “Maybe also a second kiss.”, I say, deepening it. My tongue strokes against his, teasing, and tasting the gin on his breath.
"Will the barkeeper also take the beautiful woman to his king size bed?", I ask him, which might be considered bold, if it was indeed a beautiful woman propositioning the barkeeper at the bar who had been flirting with her all evening. But it's just König and me, sitting here together in comfy clothes after we shared a meal. And I'm eager to finish what we started before.
"Hmmm, they are the only two left in the bar, so the barkeeper might just close it up to bend the beautiful woman over the bar and take her right here and now.", he spins my little story further.
"Well, that would be entirely possible, if they had some protection.", I retort, but the imagination alone is making me hot.
A little square foil packet suddenly appears in his hand, almost like out of thin air – more likely from his pocket. "Didn't tell you, I'm not only a barkeeper, but also a magician?", he says, a grin breaking through his expression, even if he tries to stay serious.
I have to laugh so hard I almost fall off the barstool, with the way my body is shaking from laughter ripping through me.
This man. It's quite unfair, to pair his dry wit with those good looks. I mean, it might not be to everybody's taste, but in my book tall, dark and brooding always works – though in his case, the notion of that much rather stems from the way he looks, not the way he is – and him being hilarious like this, especially when I don’t see it coming, definitely has me on my tiptoes.
“A man of many talents, I see.”, I tease him.
“Don’t you know it.”, he says, capturing my smile in a kiss again, barely breaking it to join me on my side of the bar.
I'm practically bent over the bar already, with the way my ass barely touches the seat and I was leaning over to kiss him, trying to get as close to him as possible. He just has to lift my hips a little bit, until I'm truly strewn over the smooth wooden surface.
He doesn't hesitate to pull my panties down, the wet fabric clinging onto me. It doesn’t take much, I’m so wound tight already, because we got interrupted. His fingers coast over the sensitive skin, and I squirm against his touch, holding onto the bar.
"Please, just- do me.", I beg, not minding how desperate that makes me sound.
"Your wish is my command.", he repeats his little quip from earlier this evening. He pulls the shorts down just low enough to take his dick out, the length resting against my ass, and I can't resist moving my hips a little bit, grinding back into him.
"Stop it.", he grumbles, spanking my buttcheek once, with the other hand. "Impatient brat.", he calls me which pulls a little chuckle from my lips.
The ripping of the foil, the snap of rubber, and then his dick nudges against me, dipping into me – just the tip. Fuck, I just want him inside me. He pulls back and repeats the motion a few times, until he finally sinks into me. Giving me a few moments to adjust myself to his length, his hands squeezing my tight ass, before he starts to pound into me.
Harder than last time he fucked me from behind because he isn’t limited by the tight space of his car’s backseat.
“Yes, yes, fuck.”, I whine, the little pleas intermingling with the resounding claps of skin against skin. The whole bar is shaking, the sturdy wood holding out against his hard thrusts.
His hands let go of my ass, his arms framing my body, holding onto the bartop. Using it as leverage to fuck me a tiny bit rougher. And I take everything he’s giving me, relishing the feeling of losing myself in the hard fucking.
Over 300 pounds pushing me up against the furniture, his dick pushing deep inside me. The tip slamming against my cervix, which is making me lose my mind fast.
Groans and mewls drop from my lips with every push into me, the sounds getting louder when he hits that sensitive spot inside me. I almost wanna bite my lip, but I know better than that by now. I know he wants to hear me.
Suddenly, he pulls himself out of me, and for a split second, I'm confused. But instead, his fingers slip into me, the sensations getting rid of my thoughts.
"Fucking hell, you're soaked.", he groans, his digits working in and out of me, the wet sounds almost obscene. The whines dropping from my lips as they stroke over the sensitive spot inside, the same one that his dick was flitting over just moments ago.
"Oh, fuck.", I moan, the intense stimulation making me shake, desperately holding onto the hard surface beneath me, as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out again, and I whimper because of the sudden loss of fullness. He bends forward, his hands spreading my cheeks, while he laps up the wetness. The hurried licks of his tongue against the sensitive skin prolonging my orgasm, making me shiver.
He straightens back up and lifts me from the bar and just flips me around, setting me down on the wood again, so that I face him. The expression on his face, the hooded lids, the drowsiness in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, his lips glistening of my juices, … Yeah, no man ever has looked this good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt.
My arms reach back, propping myself up on the bar, and my legs spread in an instant, inviting him in. His eyes drop down to my pussy, dripping and still needy. He positions himself, gripping his rubbered-up dick at the base, dragging it over my clit, teasing my entrance with his tip. Driving us both crazy, I can see it on his face.
"Fuck, please...", I whine, my hips bucking up against him.
With a chuckle, he's slipping into my wetness again, easily. Stretching me around his dick and I groan when he bottoms me out, being a little overstimulated already.
He's fucking me in this position, hard just like before, my hips almost at the perfect height, because a normal table would have never been tall enough. I scramble to even hold on, my hands gripping his shoulders now instead of the surface beneath me, trying to not get shaken off it, but he holds me firm in his grasp, holding me steadfast, so his hard fucking doesn’t push me off.
"I'm not gonna make it for much longer.", he grunts quietly, almost like an apology. “’m close, fuck. Gonna come." A deep breath shakes his chest.
My hand extends to cup his face, and even though he seems almost lost in his search for release, he nearly stills.
"Do it. Come for me.", I whisper, my lips coasting against his.
The sound that escapes his throat is a desperate one, and he pulls me tighter against him. One arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, the fingertips digging into the supple swell. My fingers stroke through his hair, the soft strands, and I press my lips to his.
And he kisses me with a frenzy, until I feel his spine stiffen up and a short deep moan against my lips.
He shudders, his whole body shaking, as he spills inside me, his hips still rutting forward, and for a moment I wish, the condom between us wasn't there. Some creampie for dessert.
"Fuck...", he breathes, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, his orgasm finally subsiding. “You okay?”
I nod, a faint ‘yes’ in my lips, and I slump against him, holding onto his waist, breathing heavily. Relishing the embrace, as he pulls me even closer with his strong arms. I breathe in his warm comforting scent, the fabric of the shirt rough against my cheek, as I nuzzle into him.
“I believe there is integral part of my home which you haven’t seen yet.”, he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of my face.
“Really?”, I ask, resting against his huge sweaty chest, my hands still tangled in his t-shirt.
Instead of answering, he lifts me off the surface, my legs closing around his waist. My panties are somewhere, but not covering my pussy that is sitting against his hips. But he doesn’t seem to care that I'm staining his shirt with my wetness. I mean, getting pussy juice on a Cannibal Corpse shirt has to be an achievement on its own, right? I giggle to myself, as he carries me up to his bathroom.
The shower indeed seems spacious enough for him to kneel down – contrary to the one in my apartment.
His hands lather up some soap and start to move over my body, the warmth of his fingers coasting over me. Softly cleaning me and washing away the suds. Refusing to let me do the same for him.
He gets down on his knees, lowering himself even further to the floor, to be right where he wants to be. At eye-level with my pussy. He lifts my left leg, placing it over his shoulder, and presses his face between my thighs. Licking and sucking eagerly.
The spray of water from above hits his hair as well, wetting and darkening the long strands, while my fingers tangle in them, my other hand looking for somewhere to hold onto. The cool tiles press into my back, while the water raining down on us and his huge warm body heat me up. My screams echo off the walls as he makes me come on his tongue, my legs almost giving out while his arms hold me up, not stopping until I’m spent.
We get out of the shower after having been in there for way too long, wasting water standing under the spray. He hands me a bathtowel and I wrap myself in it, just standing there. Watching him dry himself off. He’s quick and methodical about it, the soft fabric stroking over his wet skin, soaking up everything.
He hangs up his towel, and I try not to stare at his naked tattooed body. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before. Also, his dick has just been inside me, but I still can’t help it. I can’t tear my eyes off of him.
“What?”, he asks, as he sees me staring.
“Nothing, just looking at you.”, I say, pulling the towel tighter around me, cocooning myself up.
He comes closer. “Looking comfy.”, he comments, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“I am.”, I answer, and his arms close around me, pressing me against his broad naked chest.
“Stay the night?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Me all huddled up in the huge bathtowel can only nod and grin up at him.
next part: waking up in his bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
a/n: a special long chapter for the start of the weekend... i hope you guys had as much fun reading it, as i had writing it, gonna go take a cold shower now 🫠
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kaiser1ns · 1 month
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𝘀𝗮𝗲/𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲)
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╹synopsis :: your boyfriend gets jealous because of your photoshoot with another footballer player
╹contents :: fluff, a little bit ooc, sae gets jealous of kaiser, kaiser gets jealous of sae, dramatic and sassy boys, 0.5k words for Sae , 0.5k words for Kaiser
╹notes :: just randomly thought of this, hope you liked!
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ITOSHI SAE
He doesn't like social media for the sole reason that he can see something that he didn't needed to know about. And now he wants to delete every app he has on his phone and sue the company who thought that you being next to Michael Kaiser was a very good idea. Marketing strategy to put two very famous people who are liked all over the world so they can attract more attention and sales. He knew you had a upcoming photoshoot, but you didn't mention anything else about it and now as Sae scrolls through the Instagram page of the sport sponsor's photos, looking how you put your head on the German's shoulder, the other photo of him that has his wrapped around your waist, then you holding soccer ball all smiles and giggles. It makes him want to vomit and gouge his eyes out.
"I can't believe they paired you with Michael Kaiser," he mutters, his voice tinged with jealousy, narrowing his eyes as his grip around the mobile tightened. You know him better than anyone else including himself and for all of the years you have been together — he gets extremely sassy when jealous. His famous stoic and nonchalant demeanor, rarely revealing his emotions can't fool his girlfriend. You reach out to take the phone from his hands, you persisted, your fingers playfully poking his cheek. "Sae, it's just part of the job" you reassure him, trying to calm his racing thoughts, "Are you perhaps, jealous?" but he only rolled his eyes at this comment of yours, crossing his arms and not looking at you but straight to the TV in front of him.
In response, Sae grumbled, his tone dripping with sass as he attempted to deny his emotions. "I am not," he insisted, though the dramatic flair in his voice betrayed him.
"Yes, you are~" you teased him, knowing that he can't lie to you, and he too does know that.
"No," he protested, though his resolve was weakening under your gaze.
"Oh, you definitely are," you persisted, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.
"Absolutely not," he insisted, though the tension in his voice betrayed his facade.
But you knew him too well to be fooled. "No, you are not" you countered, your tone gentle yet firm.
"Yes, I am," he said without thinking, Touché Y/N. Your boyfriend always uses reverse psychology against you, so safe to say you learned from the best.
"I mean, what's next? You gonna be posing with Leonardo Luna for a perfume ad?" He turned his head and gave you a pointed look, he was so cute you wish you could take a photo of his face right now.
You laughed at his behaviour, for a man who was deemed very serious, sometimes he acted like a child being all pouty and sassy. Running your thumb over his cheekbone soothingly. "Oh, please, as if anyone could replace you," you tease, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "You're the only one who has my heart, Sae. Kaiser's just a prop in this grand show called advertising."
Sae rolls his eyes once again, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he concedes, finally relaxing against your touch. "But I will sue the company."
"Sae, no!"
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MICHAEL KAISER
The German prodigy was always interested in the newest fashion trends, believe it or not, as he always spoiled you with the best quality designer clothes, jewellery, shoes, perfumes — you name it, you most definitely have it. He just adores you and wants the best for you, but right now he's wondering what he did wrong to deserve this?
Was he not enough for you, was he not the best boyfriend you ever had, was he just something temporary that you could so easily forget about?
As you walk through the door, you're met with a sight straight out of a soap opera. Your boyfriend, draped dramatically across the couch, staring at the ceiling as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
You raise an eyebrow, "My love, are you okay?"He turns to you, his expression a mix of betrayal and hurt. "Oh, nothing much. Just questioning my existence, like why did my girlfriend decides to do a photoshoot for the cover of a magazine with another guy?"
You blink, trying to process. "Wait, what? You mean the Versace shoot?"
He sits up suddenly, his eyes widened of you casually talking about it "Oh, of course, thanks for admitting your mistake. Because everyone casually poses for Versace with Itoshi Sae, right? It's just your average Tuesday activity."
You can't help but laugh at his overreacting theatrics. "It's not like I'm going to run away with him. Or do you want me to?" He crosses his arms, still pouting. "Hmm, maybe. Since you clearly don't love me anymore."
You playfully roll your eyes, moving to sit beside him, "When they called you to be the model, you were busy with the Euro finals." Kaiser was about to open his mouth to defend himself but he sure was busy when the photoshoot took place. "Besides it's just Sae, nothing to worry about. He couldn't care less about others." He sighs dramatically, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You smirked and wanted to tease him more, knowing how much he disliked a certain someone. "Exactly! Imagine if it were Yoichi instead of Sae. You'd probably start a protest outside the magazine headquarters."
He feigns offense, as he stood up from the coach. "My girlfriend and that sucker on the cover together? I'd have to kill him for real this time."
You grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit on the couch again, hugging him and kissing his temple as you played with the blue hair of the mullet. "Don't be silly now. You know I will never leave you, no matter what." He melted into your embrace, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I know. Just don't go giving me a heart attack with those Isagi jumpscares, okay?" You pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "You have my word," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "I promise no more Isagi jumpscares." He chuckled softly, leaning into your touch. "Good, because I don't think my heart can take it." With a playful glint in your eye, you added, "Unless you want me to revive you with a kiss every time."
"I would like to kiss you on different occasions, thank you."
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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cowyolks · 1 year
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YOUR GRACE,
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PART ONE OF THE KING AU (Part Two Here)
Pairing: King! König x Female Reader
Prompt: As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told.
Words: 3k
Warnings: The dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote— voyeurism, public sex, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, cum eating, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, biting.
A/n: König literally means king in German, so we shall play this to our advantage. I’ll be in the corner where I belong if you need me.
MINORS DNI
It was simply disgusting outside. Mud had caked upon your boots, and the blood of your enemies you viciously killed still painted your armor. You looked every bit as wild on the battlefront as you did after victory.
Your breath frosted in the air, a shiver overtaking. You looked forward to taking a warm bath heated by the fire you had already started back in your tent.
That was before you were interrupted by one of the King’s servants, his face reddened upon glancing at your bare breasts, your armor long stripped. Luckily you hadn’t slid out of your trousers, but it was simple to say you were irritated.
You hastily pulled your furs back over your upper half, grumbling at the feeling of clothing upon your back and not hot water.
You shouldn’t have let frustration get the best of you, yet as you marched towards the other side of camp, everything managed to piss you off. Screaming soldiers fighting for rations, horses nickering too loudly, and men that couldn’t help but stare.
“You got a fucking staring problem?” You snarled at a particularly small soldier, who gulped in alarm when he caught the vicious glare you sent him.
A little chuckle broke out from behind you, and your heart leapt out of your throat when you realized it was your King.
His massive form was always a sight to see, except this time he looked even more terrifying. He seemed taller in his armor of glowing silver. Unlike most Kings, he fought amongst his men, so instead of untouched metal, his breastplate was splattered in red and mud. Even his signature hood he wore in battle was smeared with drying blood.
His arm was flexed upwards, holding up the cloth door of the council’s tent. Several men were already inside, all councilors of the senate, none that fought in the battle. You curled your lip.
“Play nice, Maus…” he purred, ushering you inside. You had to admit that the warmth of a fire felt nice against your face, the small shiver of your back disappearing.
“Right…” Your king sat upon his makeshift throne of forged steel, large enough to fit his massive form and have plenty of room to spread his legs wide before him. You sat next to him, and if it wasn’t for the bluntly obvious General’s cloak you wore, it could almost be assumed you were in a Queen’s throne. You sat close together, as you always did in briefings.
It wasn’t hard to guess the affairs the King had with you. Often times the guards would catch you sneaking out of his quarters, your sloppy gait and wrinkled dress being enough evidence to guess the steaming affair. He found joy in the hunt, something he made very clear when his face was pressed to your weeping cunt as his hand muffled your screams of pleasure.
“Are you listening, Girl?” A senator broke you away from your inner turmoil, your sour mood coming back in full force.
“I apologize, sir, but I think you meant General. Not Girl.” Your bite didn’t go unnoticed by the other senators, they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. König let out a little sigh of amusement.
“At ease… we are just starting. She has not missed anything important.” König diffused the situation, and you fell back into your chair with a huff. You’d rather be anywhere than speaking politics with these slimy pricks. You were a warrior, not a peacemaker.
“What is not important is a woman among our ranks. Let alone one that simply serves purpose to warm your bed.” The senator seethed, and you merely smirked at his comment. König would not tolerate this insolence, it would be fun to watch this play out.
Panicked whispers broke out amongst the senators as König stood. His height was scary in its own, but as he towered in a silent anger, he looked even more menacing. His steps were calculated, stalking towards the conquered sand table right in front of the unruly senator.
“You’re so tense.” König joked as his palms fell upon the little man’s shoulders, like claps of dark thunder. Your eyes twinkled as he clamped down.
“I apologize, sire.” The senator squeaked, although the bitter laugh that escaped the giant’s throat made him even more pale. “I shouldn’t be the one you apologize to, but I doubt whatever you come up with would be sincere.”
“I can apologize to the General…” he squirmed, the situation already making you revel in joy, but when your King bent his knee you grew more satisfied, your mouth watering.
“I won’t hurt you… tell me something, senator?” König’s voice cut across the tent, eerie silence replacing his growl.
“Anything.”
“Have you ever felt a pretty woman’s mouth against your cock?”
It was silent, you felt your own heart rate pick up at the question. The silence was enough of an answer, König laughed, deep and threatening. He crouched lower, his eyes level with the senator, his hood still terribly covered in blood. He reached down, pulling a singular dagger from his boot, before placing it against the base of the quivering man’s throat.
“I’m pretty big, she chokes on it most times, but occasionally…” König tilted the dagger down, against the hollow of the man’s throat. “I’ll open her up just right, and her pretty, tight, throat can take all of me to here.” He tapped the flesh, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stood straight again.
“Everyone out! Except you…” His blade stayed planted against the senator’s throat. His eyes happily watching as the council scrambled out of the tent.
“Don’t go far… I plan to have a meeting after I take care of this issue,” he yelled as they left. He sheathed his dagger, a soft pat was placed on the senator’s shoulders.
König stalked back to his throne, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as they met your own steeling ones.
“Come here, darling.” He purred again, you imagined the plunge in your gut was a lot different than the one the senator had felt. You rose from your chair, casting a quiet glance at the senator before stopping a few inches in front of the King.
You knelt respectfully, a gesture that made König’s eyes flash as he glanced down on you through his hood.
You could practically see his teasing smirk through the dirty canvas.
He reached out, his palm resting upon your cheek, then lower to the warm skin of your neck. His touch was like glowing embers, always the one to set you on fire.
“You see this? So very loyal to the King, something I wish for my councilmen as well.” His eyes burnt holes into the senator, a wicked swirling of pleasure beneath his commanding eyes. His palm rubbed smoothing circles against your skin, keeping you grounded and focused on his massive form. You hummed at his compliment, allowing a chuckle to escape the King’s throat.
“She likes to be praised and she treats me so well. Say something nice about her, senator.” König demanded from his throne, his legs still spilled wide as he pulled you gently between them, slotting your kneeling form against the tight muscles of his inner thighs.
“She fights well.” He squeaked like a timid mouse, König tutted, obviously unhappy with the response.
“No, no. About her appearance, like how sweet her cunt tastes, or how pretty she looks kneeling.” His words made you clench around nothing, but you didn’t dare move from your position, your eyes still locked and wavering at his hood.
“She has pretty eyes…” he mumbled, barely loud enough for König to hear. He laughed slightly, a gruff chirp that shook his wide chest.
“Such a pathetic compliment, it’s a wonder why you’ve never got your cock wet, hmm?”
The senator whined, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but you didn’t pay much mind, your stare falling to your King’s open thighs, where his cock lay tight against his pants.
König chuckled again, the sound musical as he petted upon your hair. “Those pretty eyes are staring at my cock like she’ll go hungry. I feed her well, keep her satisfied and by my side.” His hand patted upon the crown of your head repeatedly—a waiting game.
“But you won’t get to look at her pretty eyes.” König reached to his face, pulling upon his battle-worn hood, he dropped it to the ground with a dull thud.
He was ethereal in a way, simply like a God you had bent your knee for. His messy hair a color of the sun when it set— a dull warm orange. His nose was long and crooked, likely from breaking the cartilage in battle. His face was angled and stern, as if he was a spring ready to snap. His pupils were blown, you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust.
He fumbled with his belt, pulling upon the leather material until it hung loosely upon his waist. Finally, he leant back against the chair, his eyes finding the senator’s in disgusting pleasure.
“You know what to do, Maus.”
It was all you needed as a sign to reach your nimble fingers beneath his waistband, pulling down upon his trousers until his half-hard cock displayed in front of your face. You felt no shame as you clutched upon his massive shaft, your fingers barely wrapping around the sheer girth of him.
“Don’t look away, senator… I’ll spoon out your eyes if you do.” He rumbled, just as you pumped him once.
König was definitely putting on a show, releasing a deep sigh that came from his stomach. You knew then that he wouldn’t go quietly, your King was going to be loud, and no one would dare stop him.
“She’s good with her fingers, but near euphoric with her tongue.” He glanced down to you, cradling your jaw before lowering you down to his weeping head, a soft bead of precum leaking from him.
“Come now, darling… you’re being shy.”
With a amused huff you parted your lips, running your tongue down the shaft of his cock, nearly smiling as König hissed. That was real, not just a loud and absurd noise of punishment for the senator.
His hips pushed against your mouth, impatiently rutting his cock deeper down your throat, barely giving you enough time to open wide enough that your teeth wouldn’t scrape against his warm skin.
He pressed against the back of your throat, despite his battle worn body, he’d always tasted of bittersweet cherry wine, maybe it was because he drank so much of it. Always a goblet in his hand when you’d be in his quarters, a book slotted in his other hand. He’d often enjoy a glass while you sat on his lap, doing his best to read you the passage as you warmed his cock.
He jerked up again at your dazed expression, the fleshy walls of your throat gagged around his throbbing head, not being able to take the stretch.
“Shhhh… you hear that senator? Hear her struggle on my cock?” His massive paw wrapped around your head, pulling you back slightly, letting you catch your breath.
“Say she’s beautiful. Say she’s the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom. I want you to look at her when I cum down her throat, so every time you stroke yourself with that pathetic hand, you’ll think of my cock…” he brought you down upon him again, except this time you were ready.
“Fuck…”
Your nose hit the soft edge of his pelvis, tears welling in your eyes as he stretched your jaw to an extreme he hasn’t ever reached before.
“She’s beautiful…” the senator quietly squirmed as König’s fiery stare glared back at him. “And she’s all mine, the only woman that warms my bed.” With a final thrust, and your ears ringing at the praise, you tightened just enough for him to spill his seed against the back of your throat.
Your King’s soft whine of pleasure the only thing that propelled you to swallow every last drop of him, despite how much it truly was.
“What a good girl, she swallowed all of me. Not like some common whore you’d have to pay for, hmm?” His fingertip traced under your lip, gathering up your sticky saliva and a drop of him you missed. He fed it to you in a satisfied stupor, obviously his orgasm had fatigued him. Yet, his eyes still swirled with lust, you knew this was far from over.
“Leave, senator. If I hear you even breathed a slight word about my General again, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs.”
The senator sighed in relief, eyes lowered to the ground as he hastily bowed, leaving the tent in such an embarrassed state you hardly noticed as König hauled you to your feet before settling you against his knee, his eyes playful as he regarded you.
“I think my most prized subject deserves an award, no?”
You pretend to think about it, your mind airy from all of the praise you’ve just received. With a sure hand you reached out, connecting with his jaw. Auburn stubble had begun to sprout amongst his cheeks, showcasing the time spent fighting amongst camp instead of his warm keep.
“There will be others, a lot more distasteful than him.” You warned. König sighed, paws squeezing upon the soft furs bunched on your waist.
“Let them talk. Let them listen…”
His hand wrapped upon the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest until you were tight and straddled against his waist, the cold armrests of his throne digging into your legs.
He wasted no time in kissing your swollen lips, reveling in pleasure as he tasted himself upon your tongue.
He was hot and warm, a summer day in the contrast of the icy battle that had raged earlier. It made you yearn to be under his furs in his bed back home, tucked into his side like some precious jewel. Shivers erupted down your back when he nudged his nose against your chin, allowing him space to sink his teeth lightly in the flesh of your collarbone. You ground down against his bare cock, he grunted at the friction.
You gasped when his hands squeezed underneath the soft parts of your thighs. Effortlessly, your King pulled you up in his arms, never breaking away from your neck as he sucked against the flesh. Still, he knew exactly where he was going, because in a few steps he had you laying flat against the sand table, pieces of wooden carved castles and crests scattering across the surface.
“You looked so pretty sucking my cock, Maus. Never wanted to fuck you more, fill you until you cried,” you gasped, and in one fluid motion König had your trousers down and thrown on the dirty ground. Your bottom half exposed to the nipping cold.
“Never done anything like that with someone looking…” you mumbled, not that you felt self-conscious, but the fact that König would display to the world that you were his.
“Think I’m embarrassed of you?” He teased, before falling to the dirt just as you had previously done. You clenched, watching as the man you served would now serve you.
“Of course not.” You aired out, tilting your chin down to glance at his eyes, rounded in dark sultry glow.
“Good. Because they’re going to hear you, and they’ll know just how good I make you feel,” he growled, before snatching your hips, pulling them against his awaiting lips. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you release a humiliating moan from the warmth of him.
He set to work immediately, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, just as he sucked down hard upon your clit. You jerked, slamming your eyes shut while whining unapologetically when he crushed your pelvis back down against the cold table.
“Sit still, Maus…” he pulled away a moment, slick glistening to his lips as he licked them greedily. He hummed, “you taste divine, you want me to continue?”
“Yes, Your Grace…” you mumbled in a drunk euphoria, barely hearing his growl as heaved your legs upon his shoulders and dipped lower, licking and suckling upon you again. Enough that you were seeing stars, vision nearly black as he added a thick digit against your clenching walls.
It squelched against the tightening flesh, causing a deep moan to flex from your throat, and a hum of approval to fall from König’s lips, the vibration sending you over your edge. He added another finger, wallowing in pleasure as he stretched you.
He sucked in a deep breath of air, “that’s it darling, cum around my fingers, I want to taste it.” You tightened around him, seeing black as you felt yourself unravel, pure bliss falling from your lips as he lapped up everything you gave. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the touch like fire, burning and burning until you were nothing left but ashes.
He slipped his fingers away, the loss of contact making you whine pathetically. Oh, how easy it was to fall into the spell of him.
He laughed, a joyous sound, if it wasn’t for your quivering form. You needed more than just his fingers, and judging by the twinkle in his stormy eyes, he knew it too. He stood tall, his shadow falling over you like a blanket.
“What’s wrong, Maus?” He quipped, sharp canines glowing against the roaring fire in the distance. He knew exactly just how much this was getting to you. How his own fingers were shaking with primal desire, how he needed to plant into you and seek delicate shelter.
Your legs instinctively spread wider, allowing his hips to slot between them. With a slow hiss he stroked himself, your own eyes growing wide at the sheer girth of him, fully hard and wanting. He was always one to split you in two, a precious stretch just for him.
He taunted, gliding back and forth against your slick, up and down, again…again. Just as you were about to tearfully beg he breached your hole, a grunt leaving his lips before his head fell back in desperation.
“Fuck darling… so tight.” He pushed in slightly, half of him clamped and yielding to you. The burn was delicious, just as his hands were when they found purchase of your clothed breasts. He kneaded, just as he pulled out slightly again.
A sharp cry echoed the tent as he pushed back in— a wicked snap of his hips that made you moan. He rutted deep, one hand pressing into the table near your head, his eyes locked on your furrowed features.
“Eyes open, Maus.” He commanded, and you did as you were told, eager to please the King. Your teary eyes flooded with a jerky thrust, the tip of his head hitting your womb. It was pure instinct to wrap your legs around him, allowing him a deeper angle to ravage.
He was every bit a King. His size, his intelligence, his cock. It all dulled in comparison to any other man or woman. A true man of unwavering power.
“You hear her crying on my cock?” He yelled out into the tent, releasing a growl of his own as his cock began to twitch your gummy walls.
Whispers erupted from outside of the tent, some of the senators even commenting on how they did hear, just to please the King’s ego. It only made you moan louder, as his hips snapped even faster at their whispers.
Your hands found purchase around his cloak of woven velvet, roughly pulling at the material until you reached the warm skin of his shoulder blades, the high nearly reaching you as you rose upwards, your nails tearing into his flesh.
The only wound he’d received from his conquest.
“That’s it. Cum on your King’s cock,” he growled, losing himself just seconds after you began to clench, seeing stars in the most delightful way.
You were never one to disobey his orders.
He was never one to deny you pleasure.
With a cry, your walls closed around him, just as he pulled you tight against him, his thrusts sloppy as he rode you off your orgasm. Only seconds later did he pull you into a bruising kiss, your own mouth swallowing his moan as he spilled warm seed inside you, coating your walls in a way of pure unadulterated bliss.
He kissed you, long and slow, not daring to break your connection until he wiped your tears built from shared pleasure.
He was simple nirvana in the form of a man.
You silently whined when he pulled back, his little hiss of relief only making your eyes grow wider in admiration. He knelt again, his stare falling between your legs to your battered cunt, completely and utterly full of him.
He chuckled, reveling in ecstasy at your spent state, and all you could do was stare. With a curious finger, he pushed his seed back into your womb, a glint in his eyes as you moaned out to him at the breach.
“Love to see you full, darling. Maybe the seed will take, hmm?” His words jarred you, so crude yet delicious at the same time. Just as he was.
“They’d be bastards.” You couldn’t help but slur, eyes finding your ripped trousers in the mud.
König’s eyes twinkled as he did up his belt again, an amused look on his face as he tossed you his cloak. It would be enough to get you back to your warm bath. Forget the fuckin’ council.
The giant’s swollen lips quirked upwards, his steps sure as he reached against the table, pulling a long piece of parchment from a draw. With an outstretched hand, he gave it out to you.
You read it over, again and again. Eyes widening more each time you reread. In shock you stood, attempting to ignore the shake in your legs from excitement and from earlier pleasures.
A declaration.
“Marriages are sacred in Royalty. You know that. But being a King also makes you a conquerer, conquering means new land. Land means area to rule. I can make whoever I want royalty on said land,” He rumbled, his chest pressed to your back, just as he pushed back your hair, placing a searing kiss upon your neck.
“How would it feel to be a Queen? My Queen.”
Tags: @mykneeshurt @soapyghost @fante-di-denari
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luxxid · 9 months
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precis – genshin men talking in their native language in bed. 16+ gentlemen – neuvillette (french), tartaglia (russian), diluc (german), al haitham (arabic) remonstrance – obv smut, 16+ , fingering, degrading in arabic (😃👍), i've linked the translations just click on em.
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NEUVILLETTE x french.
"je t'aime mon amour." his hands find yours on the wrinkled sheets, fingers interlocked clinched as he plunged his hips against yours, his girth dragging over your velvety folds. slow and sensual were the two words you could use to describe how he made you feel right now. who knew the ludex of fontaine was so amorous?
"ne te cache pas de moi, ma belle sirène." he mumbled in a low growl, brushing away stray strands of hair present on your forehead while undulating his ambit into your glory. the only support you had were his ample muscles, which you held on to with every thrust.
every frown, every blissful sigh and every moan of his name a precious token of memory he cherishes. soft pants fall from his lips as he compels your legs to your chest in order to bury his length deeper. dithers and butterflies rafted in your stomach indicating your climax. your nails drew crescents into his toned back, engraving signs of pleasure into his back.
"je t'ai-t'aime." he groaned, broiling breath fanned over your lips, foreheads pressed against yours as he rolls his hips over your one last time before planting his seed deep inside your womb, unleashing a swarm of butterflies to uncoil the ribbon in your stomach. (oui oui baguette)
flopping down onto your chest, exhausted from your previous activities, his pristine hair covers most of your figure, his eyes array love, just love. soft kisses rain down on your neck, adorning many of the purple bruises he had marked before. his callused hands bedecked your waist, barely applying force as if you were made of glass. his girth was still buried into your heat, as if he didn't want to withdraw from the sedative serotonin.
"i love you too.."
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TARTAGLIA x russian.
his arms slithered around your waist, his bistre hair splattered all around your shoulder as he latches onto your waist for support, his fingers dig up your ass, sculpting demilune shapes into the soft plush. he buckled his foot to grant him more leverage. your body weight was all amended to the male beneath you.
his soft groans vibrated in the stifling atmosphere, bobbing up and down on his stupefying dick. "ty menya tak khorosho prinimayesh, hm?" he breathed into your shoulder, his indurate hands restlessly tracing over your curves, bathing in the luxury of having you so close to him. your breasts quavering in front of him, a slinky smirk absconded over his face at seeing your zest plight.
your moans gradually started getting obstreperous, interminably quivering on his bulk. his hands pinned your ass, to the point it almost drew out blood, your whimpers and whine were like music to his ears. gosh, you made him feel so lascivious. his grip grew tighter, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he murmured words of syrupy desire. his touch was like a fire, and you found yourself not wanting it to end.
"blyat' ty idealna." he groused, his voice raspy and bare. his cobalt eyes gulled lust and fire, you never ceased trotting on his cock with abandon, your head thrown back in sheer pleasure, your body shaking with every thrust. his hands were on your hips, guiding your movements, and you could feel every inch of him inside you. you let out soft happy grumbles of frustration, not knowing what he meant but you were assured it meant nothing other than love. archons- every hit to your nerves felt like celestia.
a bluffing beam pressed into his ephebic face as his cock obscured deeper into your warmth. your lamentations and sobs made him even more accelerated his appetite to taste you. what felt like clustered pieces of wires were coming out of you, your eyes gaped as you held onto his toned muscles, occasionally gasping and whining. he threw his head back revelry, his load whirled inside your womb as you let out a silent cry in the release of awaited feelings.
"moya krasivaya devochka" he chuckled as he adaged your rollercoaster of emotions, gentling brushing his hands through your hair, the sly smirk still remained pictured on his lips.
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DILUC x german.
"ich liebe dich" he spituated, his arms grasped your shoulders ever so softly, beads of sweat dropped down from his sweltering face. a weary smile was forced upon his face, occasionally fading due to how well you sucked him in. your hands run over your body from over your belly to your waist to your mounds grabbing them as he slows down the pace of his girth.
you moan out as he starts rutting into you at a fast pace. the carmine haired male groans, tightly holding your hips for leverage and fucking his cock in and out of you. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. heat resides every corner of his body. he closes his eyes as he proceeds with his adoring actions.
"don't stop luc', don't stop" you whine, harshly tugging his hair while syncing with his body movements. a soft, hushed hum resonated from him. kisses ran down from your neck to your back. his incandescent hair ran down your chest, concealing it. fuck— you were so perfect. archons, everything about you was perfect.
the bed creaked along with his every action, his actions only bought pleasure- no pain whatsoever, your breaths and moans got faster and more louder. his girth hitting your g-spot more faster, the slapping of his balls against your warmth got faster and more searing before he finally releases his seed inside of you, as well as you cumming on his girth.
"i-ich liebe- dich" he scours, his arms still vested on top of your waist, all while his length is snuggled inside of your warmth. he sagged onto your chest, your heartbeat undulating against his own.
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AL HAITHAM x arabic.
nirvana. the only word that you can use to describe how the akademiya's scribe made you feel right now. his fingers edged into your tepidity, ever so often toting more vastly. his digits were coated with your dowse, driblets of sweat coalesced on your forehead, though, the viridescent eyed male had no emotion, only pure amusement and lust in his orbs.
"waqihat qadhirat." he spat, his eyes darkening as he watched your contorting face, drool splattered all over your face, he stroked your clit with his thumb, impending his face closer to your warmth before proffering a prolonged lick to your folds, his soaked, acute tongue almost immediately earned a squalid moan from you, your eyes solidly sealed.
"haitham' more, please m-" a finger forcefully shoved down your mouth kept you silent."madha? turid almazida?" he nudged, a jiving grin swept across his face before diving into your toothsome. gosh, his tongue did wonders. his eyes averted to yours, breathing in your gaped expression, relishing in your fucked out face. his other callused hand held your waist steady, gripping it harshly to the point that his finger imprints were reflected onto your smooth flesh. pink and black scribbles clouded your eyes, fuck— you wanted more, way more, and he knew that damn well.
"ma bik habibi, turid almazida?" he inquired teasingly after taking a deepend lick of your delicacy, your grumbles and lewd mewls were like harmonic tunes. his sunken eyes glaring at your pitiful condition, a breathful chuckle escaped from his chapped lips. his tongue once more delved into your hole, in result of you gripping his pristine hair harshly, moaning and gasping at the assidissous revelry.
your heart fluttered in joyful anticipation, as you felt the knots untangle, your face betrayed a beaming smile occasionally faltering as he kept scouring your pussy inside out. the knurls and lumps soon came undone, squirting out your juices and sap onto his tongue, greedily licking it up. his lissom fingers still remained deep inside your delicacy.
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mstigeress37-blog · 9 months
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König x Stubborn! Reader
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SUM.You and König end up giving each other the silent treatment. Right when he thinks you'll give in, you shock him, causing him to come crawling back to you.
A reminder that long-term silent treatments over petty arguments are not girlboss and slay!!
'Girlfriend' and German 'mouse' used, implied short reader <3 (but also who isn't short in comparison to this giant)
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You and König had been in a petty argument the day before (something about keys going missing), it got to that point that, last night, he slept on the couch.
Little did you know, it was all a part of his elaborate scheme: he'd always been the one to come back to you, so for once, he'd like to see you do the same. So when he took away your nightly cuddles, he knew you were deprived of him.
He walked into the kitchen and caught sight of your morning mug. Smirking, he strolled over to it with a pep in his step and tucked it away into the tall cabinet; far enough in that it won't fall, but far enough out that you can easily spot it. He made sure to put any other mug out of reach, too.
He carried on with his routine of making himself a coffee before his oh-so-beautiful girlfriend walked in. He leaned his back onto the kitchen counter and lifted the mug to his lips, concealing his smile that showed how excited he was to see you break your winning streak of silent treatments and ask him for help.
You internally groaned at the sight of the distance between you and your mug. You glanced over at König before rolling your eyes; from his cheeks raising ever so slightly behind the mug, you can tell he's laughing to himself.
When you look back at König, he's making eye contact with you, eyes staring with anticipation.
But you just smile innocently before walking over to him, holding eye contact. König stands up properly as his ego inflates, straightening his back and setting his mug down, his smile turning into his infamous smirk. All before you bring your hand over to the gap between the counter he was leaning on top of and the fridge, bringing out a foldable stool.
Little did he know, however, was that you had bought a foldable stool a few days before since you wanted to bring up the topic of missing keys and knew you were both a bit too stubborn for anyone to confess to anything (even though you knew you haven't done anything).
Absolutely flabbergasted, all König can do is stare and watch as you grab your mug with a gleeful smile. He waits for you to set it down and, before you can get off the stool, König comes over and sweeps you up in one smooth motion, your stomach on his shoulder and your arms flailing around behind him to let you go.
He makes his way over to the sofa in the living room and practically manhandles you so you're stradling his lap. He wraps his arms gently but tightly around your waist and pulls you in close so you can't do anything but let him hug you. You can hear him muffle out a 'when did you get that stupid stool...' into your collarbone. You just laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck.
"You gonna tell me what you did with my keys yet?" You ask, attempting to pull away but he doesn't budge. He stays quiet for a bit before pulling away himself, still keeping you in his grasp, just not as tightly so that he can see your face and gauge how he should proceed.
"I may have hid them so you could stay a bit longer." He grumbles. You feign an offended look. "You're never late, mein maus, you could spare a few more minutes with me..."
You chuckle again before you take your hand and squish his cheeks together, forcing him to pout. "You're so silly. Just ask me next time." You say before pulling him into a cuddle. You force your bodyweight to the side so you've both gone from sitting to lying down and cuddling, laughing and kissing each other's faces off with small pecks.
There was a moment of silence where you just stared into each other's eyes before he got up all of a sudden, squishing you into the sofa as he got on top of you to get off and onto the floor on the other side of you.
"I'm gonna break that damn fuckin' stool." He said, grunting like an old man when he got up.
"WAIT, BABE, WAIT-"
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Requests are open!! I don’t do smut :))
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traveler-at-heart · 4 months
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Love Language
Summary: Natasha and you share a secret language. Just a short drabble!
Russian, English, Chinese, French, German are some of the languages listed on Natasha’s file.
But there was another one, hidden in plain sight, that apparently only you could understand.
It was the little things, the silences, the requests that weren’t verbalized. Only statements about her day, or apparent offerings that hid a need of her own.
Like certain mornings, when you greeted her in the kitchen and asked if she had breakfast yet.
“I’m not hungry”
“That won’t do” you’d answer like clockwork, reciting all the things you could do that you knew she liked. Omelette, sandwich, pancakes.
“Pancakes are fine” she’d shrug her shoulders, but would leave the plate clean. Then, she’d approach you as you did the dishes and muttered a quiet thank you.
An invitation to play games (anything, from chess to cards or Mario Kart) would be followed by a suggestion that since she’d won, the least Natasha could do was take you to dinner.
So you spent the night in one of the restaurants you both liked. Picking a place was easy; you listed the places and Natasha would interrupt you when you got to the one she wanted.
“That one was nice last time”
There are times when you’d sit in the dinning table, while she reads the paper. The entertainment section is conveniently on your side, and you grab it to read the titles of the movies showing in the old cinema downtown.
“Haven’t seen that one yet” she’d comment after you get to the right one.
Movie nights were your thing, and you always paid for the tickets and anything she wanted from the candy store.
“The movie was good” she’d say. “I’ll pick next time”
As if it hadn’t been her choice in the first place.
“Sure, Nat” you always answered, amused.
Back from missions, she always sat next to you on the Quinjet, asking if you could check for injuries she might have missed.
“Now you” she’d say. It was her way of checking that you were ok, without having to seem too concerned. You smiled as she grumbled, displeased when she saw a little bruise or open skin, her hands lingering as she cleaned the wounds.
To anyone else, it may seem frustrating. To you, it was beautiful to experience Natasha’s love language. Asking for help, seeking your company, were signs that she could and wanted to be vulnerable. To you, it was a privilege.
You could have done it forever, in all honesty.
Until one night, when a mission went sideways. Everyone was shooting, blowing up walls and trying to stay alive.
You ran from one room to the next, looking for Pietro as his comms weren’t working.
“Hey, wrap this up, kiddo” you screamed, shooting at the people trying to shoot him.
“Almost done” he grunted. He was slower, and you figured it might have something to do with the wound on his abdomen.
“Come on” you said, taking out the last guard that was behind his back.
No one was watching your back, though. You felt the pain in your chest and leg, falling in the middle of rubble and bodies.
Your eyes remained unfocused, barely listening to the commotion around you. Green eyes, filled with tears brought you back to reality.
“Stay with me” Natasha asked.
For the first time, she asked.
You’d feel overjoyed if it weren’t for the two bullet holes in your body.
She didn’t hide how terrified she was, of the blood flowing and the life leaving your eyes.
“Please don’t leave me” she asked again, and you nodded.
You kept your promise until the Quinjet landed, and everything went dark.
“I’m being such a pain in the ass” you say every time you ask for something.
Recovery’s been slow, but you won’t complain because Natasha’s by your side all the time.
“Ask for anything you need”
“How about a kiss?”
And then, she’ll roll her eyes, but lean forward, happy to feel your lips against hers.
Neither needs to ask, nor tell, but you know you love Natasha, and she loves you.
It’s in everything you do for each other.
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sku1l-b4e · 1 month
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"These damn ribbons..."
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(c.ai is pissing me off so I made it here 😭)
Summary: You pulled a silly prank on Tom now he's annoyed :(
Category: fluff/angst (?) to smut 🤭 Warnings: swearing, objects breaking, doggy style, marking, dom!Tom, sub!reader, poorly translated German (Google), the writers inner Wattpad writing coming back out.
I apologize in advance. 😮‍💨
It's maybe around 11:30AM, maybe a little later, but you had been up for hours, bored out of your mind. Tom had been asleep for God knows how long, he didn't even stir when she tried to wake him and hour ago, so you had an idea. It has been a while since you had played a joke on Tom, he was always doing it to you, so why not return the favor?
You had straddled his hips as he slept on his stomach, your fingers fiddling with the baby pink bows and his dirty blonde dreadlocks, tying the ribbons around the ends as tightly as your hands could. But, you weren't a monster wanting to ruin his image, so you had loosened them slightly so he could roll them off if needed but they wouldn't be untied, Tom can't untie ribbons. You had worked on your little plan for over half an hour, closer to 45 minutes before you finished, you got off him, kissed the crown of his head and left the room.
Now you were sat in the living room, both hands to your mouth to stifle the soft giggles leaving your lips as you hear your boyfriend grumbling in German from the shared bedroom. You could hear him groaning and huffing, probably bent over to look into your vanity mirrors in order to try and untie the ribbons you so gracefully bestowed upon Tom. After a couple minutes, the grumbling stops and a yell echoes through the otherwise quiet house.
"Diese verdammten Bögen!" Your head looks over to your slightly ajar bedroom door, as if you could see Tom struggling behind it. "Scheiße!"
A bang stills the house, the only noise being Tom's laboured breathing as you silently stand up and make your way to the bedroom. "Baby..?" You call out quietly to him as you enter the room, closing the door behind you, your soft eyes landing on Tom who was bend over, his head and forearms on the white desk of your vanity, the stool somehow the other side of the room, must've been the cause of the bang. Your eyes gaze at your boyfriend with both curiosity and worry, it seems he had tightened the bows instead of undoing them. Tom grunts and stands up straight, not turning to face you just yet.
You walk over to him, your bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor as you step on and off the rug in the center of the room. You reach Tom and gently places your hands on his shoulder blades, guiding your fingers up to his dreads and gently loosening the bows which seem to have caused Tom so much trouble. You feel his eyes boring into yours and a shiver runs up your spine, the familiar feeling of arousal seeping through you. Just because of his gaze, wow.
It takes 10-20 minutes before the final bow comes off and falls to the floor, Tom notices this and he tensed up slightly, turning around to finally face you. Your head tilts backwards to meet his gaze, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would cause you that much trouble..." Your soft voice breaks the silence, the air thick with a tension you couldn't describe. He grunts again, rolling his eyes before crouching slightly and hooking his hands beneath your plush thighs, lifting you up and walking you across the room where he drops you onto the bed, the squishy mattress forcing you to bounce a couple times.
--⋆.ೃ࿔*:・. (NSFW)
You can't think straight, not when Tom's cock is pistoning itself in and out of your sloppy cunt. This had been going on for over an hour now, he had you in the doggy style position, pushing your face down into the comfy pillows he had slept on, his scent forcing its way into your nose whilst his hands grip your hips, his hip bones connecting with your ass with every brutal thrust.
"What is going through that head of yours, hm? Almost ruining my image just for a giggle." He spits out, burying his face into your neck as letting his teeth nip at your soft skin. You can't even respond, his aggressive thrusts pushing the air of your lungs. The only noises that leave you are muffled moans and whines, your own hips desperately trying to match his rhythm, but he's going too fast. Besides, he's holding your body in place while he uses it for his own pleasure, his cock stretching your tight cunt out, his mouth marking you as his, his hands kneading at your flesh. "Fuck... Fuck, I'm sorry... God..." You finally managed to reply, your voice strained and muffled, his thrusts forcing your body to jolt with each thrust. "Not good enough, baby." He whispers into your ear, his lips and tongue leaving behind a large hickey just beneath it.
How many times had you cum? 3, 4? Maybe even 5? God knows, but however many times, your body was starting to give in completely, black spots pop up into your vision as you feel your pussy clenching around Tom's dick, your walls fluttering as you cry out. Your back arches, your eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the 8 inches within you. He hadn't even bothered to put on condom, thank God your birth control ACTUALLY worked.
You know Tom is finally getting close to cumming, his thrusts becoming faster, more aggressive, yet sloppy. A string of German dirty talk escapes his lips as his hips speed up even more, it almost feels unnatural with how fast he can go...
He gives one final thrust, burying himself deep within you, right next to your cervix, as he lets out a groan that almost comes out as a growl, his mouth finding your shoulder and biting into it, his teeth sinking in and causing your body to tense and squirm. Her wraps his arms around your stomach from behind, holding you against his own stomach as he starts to slowly thrust again, riding out his high. He peppers kisses from the bite up to your ear, his hips now grinding against yours instead of thrusting. "God, mein schönes Mädchen..." He whispers, his perfectly plump lips sucking on the nape of your neck as your legs give in, forcing him to hold you up.
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I haven't written smut in YEARS... I low-key hate it 😔🤞🏻
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