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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

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dante-mightdie · 21 days

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Viking Price eating out his wife and pampering her after she got better from a very ugly winter cold that could have been deadly🥺🥺

c/w: mentions of sickness, vomiting, death, smut, cunnilingus, public sex bc you know I love that <3

price is very into fulfilling his role in your marriage. whether he likes you or not, he has an example to se to his clan. you both do. it is both yours and johns role to provide a stable example of a healthy marriage

this means sticking to the vows you took on your wedding day. in sickness and in health, he had taken you in your health for months so when you came down with a horrid illness, it was time for him to double down

he took a huge step back from leading the clan, putting his faith in his second-in-command, simon. he spent his time tending to you, never leaving your side. he carried you when you were too weak to carry yourself, like a strong husband should

he bathed you when you had bad days, which was more often than not. climbing into the tub, cradling your aching body to his chest. he lets your body go limp against his as he cleans the sweat off that had clung to your skin during your hot flashes

his fingers would gently rake through your hair, bunching up the strands away from your face as you empty your guts out into a bucket. spewing up the food that john had slowly fed you earlier

there was a time where he prepared for the worst, accepting that he may have to bury his wife sooner than he thought. however, you had miraculously pulled through. price had sent gaz and soap on an expedition to a faraway village to gather some new healing herbs that john had heard about through the grapevine

you were far too weak to make the journey yourself and john had no intentions of leaving your side. the clan praying for your recovery every night before they lay their heads down to sleep

naturally, the news of your sudden recovery had resulted in a huge celebration. a huge feast being held with wine and music and dancing. it was after hours, and all the children of the clan were at home in bed as the adults continued celebrating

john was in his usual seat, at the head of the table. you planted on his thigh, one arm keeping you steadying against his burly chest. soft giggles leaving your mouth as your husband licks and bites at your neck

your hands are planted right on his pecs, loosely squeezing at the flesh there as your husbands hands travel up your skirt. his lips move down to your exposed clevage, dragging his tongue across your warm skin

you reach behind you to grab the goblet of wine you had been drinking from all evening. a blissful feeling bubbling in your gut from the excitement of getting off with your husband in front of all these people

it’s not like you and john are the only ones. just another couple getting busy in the quiet corners of the hall. perhaps because it’s different this time. this is intimate. affectionate. maybe even loving

you take a long drink of the wine before gripping johns jaw tightly and pull him away from your chest, tilting the bottle towards his mouth. with a soft growl, he takes a few big sips before throwing the bottle to the ground and causing it to shatter

the loud, sudden noise attracts a few stares but this doesn’t stop john from placing his large paws on your ass and hoisting you up onto the table. he spreads your legs, making sure both of your feet are planted on the edge before pushing your skirts up to your hips

his hands caress your thighs, squeezing at the flesh there intermittently. he leans forwards and spits a large glob of saliva onto your cunt. the sensation combined with the booze causes you to let out a little gasp which soon turns into a soft moan when he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and sucks on it

your husband seems to pay no mind to the numerous set of eyes that are trained on you both in this moment. looking up at you though hooded eyes as he laps at your pussy

his beard against the sensitive skin of your cunt makes you giggle, your brain spinning at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue spreading your folds apart before dipping into your entrance

your tipsy squeals and giggles making his cock twitch and leak against his hairy thigh. he takes one of his hands down to wrap around his cock, pumping it slowly with a tight grip. his other hand travels up your tummy where it meets yours, his thick fingers interlocking with yours as he moans into your pussy <3

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price x reader #chief!price

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hor3nee · 4 months

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• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #dad!sukuna #jjk #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #no use of y/n #true form sukuna #dad sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna jjk

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it.

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support.

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed.

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me.

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you?

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable.

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts.

— Dismissed.

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want.

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem.

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric.

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances.

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect.

— Sir? Is everything alright?

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator.

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t.

— I thought you’d heard me the first time.

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now?

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away?

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja?

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you.

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow.

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable.

— You forgot the milk.

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk.

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics.

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty.

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir.

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here.

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office.

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise.

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen.

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay.

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees.

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already.

— Ja. Bra is next.

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger.

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though.

— Braves Mädchen…good girl.

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target.

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples.

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window.

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen?

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you.

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life.

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation.

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel?

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language.

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him.

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest.

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop.

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide.

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges.

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat.

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created.

— How do you feel?

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less.

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles.

— My pleasure, Schatzen.

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain.

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all.

#cod #yandere konig #konig x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #konig #konig x you

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sheepscot · 1 year

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2 of my brothers coworkers tested positive for covid so the family plan of going to his house for dinner is quickly being judged if it's a safe thing to do

#my sister and her partner are coming from out of state #and she works in public health #and plans on meeting up with highschool friends #plus dad also works in the same place as bro #and dad is an old white man who feels masks are stuffy and doesn't wear them to work #so dad probably has covid stewing in his lungs #it will hit him HARD #he is 73 #and has a weak immune system #christmas #covid #covid 19

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bluegekk0 · 8 months

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Finally decided to work on the designs for all the side characters in the FPK AU, mostly residents of Dirtmouth as that's where the main portion of the AU takes place

Here's the full height chart including the FPK family members (note: this has been updated with newer designs, so some things are slightly changed)

(short bios for each of the au characters under the cut)

Vyrm (alternate spelling of "Wyrm") - once the king of Hallownest, now a simple resident of Dirtmouth tormented by the guilt of his past actions and his own emotional trauma. Following the return of the infection, he disappeared in a self-manifested realm where he hibernated for years until he was woken up by Little Ghost. He roamed around Hallownest post hibernation, until he was found by Hornet and taken to Dirtmouth, where he reunited with Holly and Grimm, the latter of whom he would start a relationship with. He embraces his instincts by hunting animals and eating raw meat, though he is far from a dangerous beast. He owns a small workshop from which he creates new inventions and plans for Dirtmouth's renovations.

Grimm - the exiled god of nightmares and The Radiance’s brother. Following his banishment from The Higher Plane, he formed the Troupe with whom he would travel around the world in search of pleasures. Although he has a certain fondness for the mortals, he spent hundreds of years feeling loneliness, unable to find love due to his immortality, until he met Vyrm. They became close friends, though they were not able to confess their love and start a relationship until after Vyrm’s hibernation. Grimm and his Troupe now permanently reside in Dirtmouth, from which they travel to other kingdoms to perform their shows, and to fulfil The Nightmare King’s ritual needed to maintain his physical form. He drinks blood to prolong the lifespan of each physical body, and he has a fondness for fruits.

Hornet - the beloved daughter of Vyrm and the Deepnest queen Herrah. She grew up showered with her father’s love and formed a very close bond with him. Unfortunately, following her father's disappearance, she was forced to spend years all on her own, which turned her bitter and difficult to approach. She now struggles with anger issues and intense fear of getting attached, but deep down she cares a lot about her family. She moved to Dirtmouth following the end of the infection, though she still frequently patrols Hallownest.

Holly - the king's pure vessel born with the mission to contain The Radiance. After the plan's failure and the return of the infection, they were freed from the Radiance's grasp following her defeat at the hands of the void entity. They were taken to Dirtmouth by Hornet, and then nursed back to health by Grimm per Hornet’s request. With their arm missing and their body weakened, they are unable to hold their nail, instead they focus on more relaxing activities to pass their time. They wear a prosthetic arm made from scrap by their father.

Lewk - Vyrm and Grimm's son, hatched from an egg laid by Grimm. He’s surrounded by love from both of his parents, though with his growing curiosity about everything around him, he finds great interest in joining Hornet on her patrols, as well as in Ogrim’s cooking. He’s still discovering new things about the world and himself.

Milo and Asta - twins, the newest addition to the family. Milo, the little boy with pale skin, is weak and sickly, and spends most of the day sleeping. Asta is stronger than her brother and a lot more curious about the world, though the two are still very young and need constant care from their dads and the rest of the family.

Zote - a self proclaimed knight of great renown, in reality a lonely young bug living in a world of delusions. He was rejected by his hometown and his family, and so he traveled until he reached Hallownest. After the end of the infection, he found himself “adopted” by Vyrm’s family, and although he still remains his mean and egoistical self, he secretly appreciates the fact that they accepted him as one of their own. Holly is his best friend who most often drags him out of sticky situations.

Ogrim - one of the great knights of the Pale King, the last one that remained in Hallownest, best friends with Vyrm and a close friend of the family. Found by Hornet following Vyrm's return from hibernation, and invited to live in Dirtmouth alongside them. Leaving his duty as the knight behind, he put away his armor in favor of more comfortable clothing. He eventually embraced his long forgotten hobby of cooking and opened a small diner in the town. Liked by everyone thanks to his contagious optimism and supportive attitude.

Brumm - Grimm's right-hand man and trusted friend. Runs the Troupe in Grimm's absence and assists him during the rituals, and in his spare time directs the Troupe's music crew. Joined the Troupe after Grimm invited him, following the tragic death of Brumm's family. Used to have one-sided feelings for Grimm, but holds no ill will towards Vyrm, and later becomes his friend following a Grimmkin's attempt at the latter's life. Friends with Divine and on very good terms with Ogrim.

Divine - Grimm's closest friend and drinking partner, responsible for the Troupe's costumes. Friends with Brumm, "auntie Divine" to Grimm's children whom she often looks after. Once a Lady from a distant land, she was invited to the Troupe following a war that destroyed her home. Has a particular interest in shiny objects, loves jewellery and fancy clothes. Rarely seen outside her tent, usually seen planning the next troupe performance, she dislikes being disturbed.

The White Lady - the queen of Hallownest, Vyrm's wife before their separation. Cold and emotionally distant, often comes off as self-absorbed. She was blind to Vyrm's needs during their time together, and ended up neglecting and hurting him. Before the marriage, she was the Lady of the Queen's Gardens Mansion. Tormented by the guilt of her part in the vessel plan, she imprisoned herself in the Queen's Gardens. Vyrm's return from the hibernation inspired her to free herself from her bindings, and she now resides in her old Mansion. She is occasionally visited by Vyrm and tries to remain on good terms despite their past. In a constant quarrel with Grimm whom she finds irritating, but holds no grudge towards over his relationship with Wyrm.

Bretta - a young writer and a hopeless romantic, friends with Holly, Zote and Hornet, whom she has a crush on. Once infatuated by Zote, she eventually saw through his lies, but ultimately forgave him. Shares an interest in plushie sewing with Holly. Sees Grimm as an inspiration for her writing, and finds Vyrm to be a bit unpleasant due to his love for raw meat, though she admires his work.

Iselda - Cornifer's wife and the owner of the cartography shop. In the past she used to be a fighter, now she enjoys a quiet life with her husband and eventually starts joining him on his adventures. A close friend of Vyrm after helping him with his wounds following the Grimmkin incident. Very fond of Holly, who enjoys helping her around the shop. On good terms with Quirrel, dislikes Lemm.

Cornifer - Iselda's husband, co-owns the cartography shop. Frequently travels around Hallownest, mapping each location thoroughly. Close friends with Vyrm, whom he enjoys discussing the Hallownest architecture with, and who helps him find secret locations and passages throughout the kingdom. Shares his wife's dislike for Lemm.

Elderbug - the town's elder, good friends with Quirrel. Keeps the flower given to him by Little Ghost by his side at all times. Pessimistic and often quite grumpy, isn't fond of public displays of affection, which Grimm and Vyrm are notoriously guilty of. Following the renovation of Dirtmouth and its return to its former glory, he becomes an especially respected figure to the town.

Tiso - an arrogant troublemaker and Hornet's self-proclaimed rival. Lives in the City of Tears but frequently visits Dirtmouth to challenge hornet. Planned to fight in the Colosseum but changed his mind last minute out of cowardice, is extremely sensitive about this subject and reacts with anger anytime it's brought up. Disliked by Zote and Hornet, and by Elderbug for causing trouble in the town.

Quirrel - a curious wanderer and once an apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, tasked with protecting her dreamer mask. Holding the mask halted his aging process, and after her death, he aged visibly. With no purpose left, he planted his nail by the Blue Lake, but continued his life of wandering and exploration until he reached Dirtmouth, where he would become a teacher to the town's youth. Is on friendly terms with Elderbug, Iselda and Lemm, as well as Wyrm's family.

Lemm - owner of the relic shop in the City of Tears. Following the end of the infection and the city's consequent revival, he became a respected shop owner, which made him quite wealthy. His bigger competitor is Sly, who left Dirtmouth behind and moved to the city in hopes of becoming rich. After Vyrm's return, he quickly realized his true identity, and began pestering him about his past in hopes of learning more about the kingdom, until Grimm stepped in and threatened to kill him unless he stayed away. Very abrasive, refuses to accept that Vyrm wants to leave his old life behind and disrespects his wishes to be call him by his chosen name. Friends with Quirrel, disliked by Vyrm, Iselda and Cornifer, hated by Grimm.

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bhaalble · 7 months

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I like that Last Unicorn quote as much as the next guy but I do always wind up feeling a little detached from analysis that paints Astarion's disapproval as purely envy. Partly because. No one's doing this for Lae'zel for instance even though she has similar disapproval and similar trauma (all she can remember is a hostile physically and emotionally exploitative environment which expected perfect strength and obedience from her or else she would be punished or killed). But also partly because it feels pretty detached from everything he actually has to say about it.

The thing about Astarion is he loathes weakness. He loathes sentiment and he loathes dependence. You can see this when he actually opens his mouth up about the people he disapproves of saving, but also incredibly loudly when he talks about the other companions, as well as his fellow spawn. If Lae'zel submits to Vlaakith he talks scornfully about how some people just come to love their chains. He's confused and put off if Wyll submits to Mizora to save his father. In every conversation with his fellow spawn (at least when hes not actively manipulating them) he's dismissive and harsh, and clearly he's perfectly willing to sacrifice them for the sake of himself.

There's an obvious origin point of those feelings, of course. Cazador's abuse is designed to actively kill off empathy in his spawn, both towards each other and towards victims. The last time Astarion prioritized someone over his own skin he got locked in a tomb for a year. We can see glimpses of it with the other spawn too, how his siblings are (apparently uncompelled at first) willing to drag Astarion back to their master for their freedom, how Petras' first dream of freedom is getting to drain another person dry. Astarion certainly doesn't seem to feel any real sense of solidarity with them, likely because Cazador understands that them building a community is a threat to his authority the way it was to his own master.

I'd also argue its Astarion projecting his own self-loathing outwards. So much of his quest is about his desperate attempt to escape from who he was. He's been given a chance to slip free of the limitations of being a spawn. He clings to that because of course he would. He also instinctively begins to run over everything in his path, because if there's anything he has learned over the past 200 years its that good things can always be taken away unless you make sure to remove any and all possible threats to that scrap of well-being. He's disdainful of people in need of help because they represent who he fears to go back to being! He calls his siblings "poor fools" while refusing to confront the fact that had it not been for the tadpole he would be in exactly their position, forced to cling to the hope that Cazador is telling the truth for once because escape isn't an option either way. He becomes irritated when Tav slows down to help the unfortunate because they represent roadblocks on his own path to safety.

There's an idea in mental health stolen from airplane safety: that you shouldn't help anyone else until your own mask is secure. What they don't tell you, speaking from personal experience at least, is that PTSD, especially for long term trauma, has a way of making you feel like your own mask will never be secure. And while that's scary, and it sucks, and there should be the utmost patience for it: no one is going to realize that mask is secure for you. Eventually you are going to have to accept the fact that you are breathing just fine. Eventually you are also going to have to accept that people asking something of you isn't them endangering you, even if it can sometimes (often) feel like it. It doesn't make you obligated to help them. But it does mean you have to stop reacting to them like a threat, because not 5 minutes ago that was you.

I think the idea that he's only mad because he's jealous is a gratifying fantasy. He didnt feel safe before, but now through your PC and the power of love he'll feel warm and cozy enough to forgive you for not being there to begin with. But I also think Astarion cannot live in a reality where he's never pushed back on. His instinctive self-protective movements are a coping mechanism, yes, but coping mechanisms developed under survival conditions can also be a way of keeping you frozen in your trauma. Outside of the environment they were necessary for, they can even hinder you from growing in the ways you need to grow to move past what happened to you. Sometimes, you need to stop a baby tiefling from getting crazy murdered by a snake because it turns out. That can happen to anybody not just people who are weak and stupid and deserve to die anyways not like me I'm normal-

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #ive got to stop drafting essays on him #apologies if this damages my cool boy image #cazador #baldurs gate 3 spoilers

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