#makarov x male reader

[burstinn]

You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it

HEADCANONS

Warnings and Notes:

All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this

I made this for funny

Slight nsfw

Gn reader, target audience is male

Haha face sitting

People mentioned:

Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves

You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.

Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.

And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"

RIPTIDE

- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck

- "Sorry for huh??"

- Seems like you say on him while he slept

- "... ", "nothin"

- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest

- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him

- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch

- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.

- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating

- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE

- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.

SOAP

- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..

- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.

- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally

- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr

- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"

- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"

- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."

- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.

- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.

- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)

- (He's actually serious)

GAZ

- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.

- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first

- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.

- "no.. It's okay.."

- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame

- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react

GHOST

- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.

- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry

- Oh.. Shit...

- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.

- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.

- He got hard, you noticed.

- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."

- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes

- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW

- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH

KÖNIG

- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?

- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize

- He just nodded..

- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..

- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room

- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny

- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face

- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee

MAKAROV

- " sit back down"

- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"

- you better sit the fuck back down on his face

- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face

KEEGAN

- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff

- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff

- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief

- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"

- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod

- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"

- He made you sit back down on his face

HORNAGI

-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH

- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face

- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face

- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing

- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good

- if you look behind you, He's hard.

PRICE

- would smile and assure you it's okay.

- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass

- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face

- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.

- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr

KRUEGER

- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone

- "Why'd you get off?"

- "huh?"

- "Sit.Back.down"

- You did

ROACH

- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy

- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face

- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing

- He would do it until you say yes..

- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug

LOGAN WALKER

- Would scream at you

- because you made him discover something about himself

- He's angry because of that

- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.

- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are

- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)

- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to

GRAVES

- Would look at you like 🤨

- Then be like 😐😒😏

- stands up and slaps your ass

- and asks you to sit on his face

Everyone mentioned

- You will face fuck them

- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them

[fixfoxnox]

Luke's Spicy Snippets (11)

Pairing: Makarov/Trans Male! Reader

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, because of that its sorta dub-con, but its ambiguous on whether the kidnapping part is true or if Makarov is just having a moment. Rough fingering, choking, biting, blood kink kinda, rough oral sex

"You," Makarov pressed him tight against the wall, his face fixed into a facade of calmness, "Are supposed to be good." The hand fixed loosely around his throat tightened, cutting off his air supply with only a squeeze.

He reacted quickly, reaching up to grab at Makarov's wrist desperately, a pleading look sent toward the man as his need for air grew more and more desperate. Makarov paid that no mind and, instead, shoved his thigh between his leg, grinding the hard muscle against his cunt. He wanted to whine at the feeling but the hand around his throat prevented that.

It wasn't until the beginnings of black dots swam around his vision that Makarov relaxed his hand, allowing him to choke on the flood of air into his lungs. "Tell me," Makarov started as he continued to cough, "What was your plan? Hmm? To leave?"

"No," he managed to choke out between his desperate breaths. Makarov's hand on his throat trailed down. He stroked along his chest until he could slip his hand under the waistband of his pants and underwear to cup his wet cunt, his palm just pressed against his clit. He gasped at the feeling, still trying to catch his breath.

"Really?" Makarov asked, bringing their faces close together. He kissed his cheek sweetly, tracing his mouth down his neck in a gesture that felt blessedly sweet. For a brief moment, he forgot who he was dealing with. For a brief moment, he believed that it was a different version of the man with his hand slowly grinding against his cunt. "You didn't plan to leave? Didn't plan to leave me?" His voice turned cold and be bit at his neck, latching onto the skin and breaking through with his teeth.

He yelped at the feeling, his hands grabbing tight to Makarov's shoulders as the man lapped at his flowing blood with his tongue, humming at the taste. "No," he stuttered, "I swear! I wasn't trying to leave."

Makarov hummed for a moment before, "I don't believe you." The hand against him moved and soon there were two fingers curling inside his wet cunt and a thumb pressing harsh circles against his clit. His knees nearly buckled with the sudden pleasure panging at his gut. "Perhaps," Makarov bit his shoulder, drawing blood in the same way he'd done his neck, "Perhaps I need to remind you exactly who you belong to." He pulled back and used his free hand to grab tight to his throat again, pressing him back to the wall and cutting off his airflow again, "You need a reminder about who owns you."

Makarov released the pressure from around his throat and, immediately, little gasps and moans began to fall from his mouth. Makarov's fingers were working in and out of him roughly, stabbing inside of him before curling against his walls in a harsh but pleasurable move. He was using his thumb to rub tight harsh little circles on his clit, a wicked grin on his face as his boyfriend jerked down into the feeling.

There was a moment that passed like that , with Makarov just roughly fingering him. He was drinking in all of his little moans and desperate pants of his name with growls of his own, his face slowly twisting into something more and more devious. If he didn't know him, he would have likely called Makarov bloodthirsty in that moment.

Makarov was working him closer and closer to the edge and, with every move, he began to thrust down on Makarov's fingers more and more, his mind blank from the pleasure that was slowly spreading to every part of his body. "Please," he tugged at Makarov with his hands, clawing at his shoulders for some sort of purchase as those merciless fingers continued pounding into him and working at him. "Please, Volodya, I- oh god."

Makarov groaned at his words and connected their lips to ravage his mouth. His teeth nipped harshly at his lips and his tongue forced its way past his lips so that he could lick at his teeth. "Fuck," Makarov muttered against his lips, his entire body noticeably tense. He could feel the man's hard cock pressing against his thigh and it only took one little move for him to grind his leg against the man and pull a desperate groan from his lips.

Makarov didn't say anything about the move, but he did give him a withering glare and his fingers inside of him began to move quicker, pulling a squeak from his lips as he found himself almost immediately brought to the edge of pleasure. He tilted his head back, breaking away from Makarov's lips to gasp out his name, desperate whines leaving his throat.

He only needed a few more thrusts and-

In an instant, Makarov's hands were gone. He gave a sob at the sudden loss of stimulation and he was too far gone to even fight against the hand shoving him roughly to his knees. "Volodya," he begged lowly, looking up at the other man with desperate and pleading eyes. Makarov paid no mind to him and instead started to undo his belt and jeans.

He watched with hungry eyes as the other man pulled his hard cock from his jeans and started to slowly stroke over his heated skin, a relieved sigh pulling from his lips. Makarov's eyes drooped down to him and he practically glared down at him as he stroked his cock. "You don't get to come," he spoke after a moment, "not until you've properly apologized to me." Makarov reached out with his free hand and harshly grabbed at his face, forcing his mouth open with a harsh squeeze. Slowly, he started to slip is cock into the others mouth.

He could do nothing but whimper as Makarov began to shallowly fuck his mouth, going deeper and deeper down his throat with every thrust. It wasn't long until he was releasing his chin in favor of grabbing his hair, using it as leverage to begin roughly fucking his throat.

Whines and moans escaped his throat between chokes from Makarov's rough thrusting. The only sign of Makarov's pleasure were his desperate panting breaths and occasional growls when he would slam particularly deep inside the others throat.

"That's it," he moaned after several moments, his eyes tracing the red tear stained lines of his face with nothing short of glee. "You're going to take it. Take everything that I give you." He starting fucking into his mouth quicker, giving a breathy laugh as he did, "Let's see if you forget who you belong to again after this. See if you won't remember," Makarov yanked at his hair harshly and moaned when he hollowed his cheeks around him, "see if you won't remember who you belong to when you can't speak anymore, lubov moya."

[thegnomelord]

Good Dog

CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.

Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat

The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.

Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.

It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.

Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.

And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.

His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.

Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"

It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.

"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.

Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"

"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.

Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.

But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.

"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."

That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.

You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.

The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.

"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.

It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.

And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.

Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.

He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.

He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.

After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.

"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.

Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.

You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.

Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.

Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.

"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"

It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.

Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.

His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"

You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."

"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.

You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."

You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.

A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.

His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.

You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.

Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.

But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.

"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"

You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.

You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.

He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.

Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."

A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.

It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.

Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.

You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.

He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.

He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.

You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.

Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.

Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.

You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.

His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."

You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.

Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"

The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.

"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.

"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."

“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.

You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.

Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.

You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."

The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.

Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24

[fortheb0ys]

FUCK I LOVE MAKAROV'S SMILE😭

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Makarov would look at you, smile adorned on his face as he asks for your cock in his mouth. Even with his mouth full, his lips stretched wide, he eyes still show mad glee. Teeth slightly scraping your cock as you push it in.

His smile wouldn't fade as your hand is around his throat restricting any air. Your rough thrusts sending him farther into unconsciousness.

You'd loosen your grip just before Makarov would blackout. A mad laughter would erupt from his chest as breath came back to him.

He'd ask for you to do it again and again. You'd fuck for hours and his smile never left his face.

He wouldn't beg. Men like him don't beg. He'd threaten. His teeth would grip tightly on your throat just as his walls around your cock. He'd threatened to rip out your throat if you stopped. His teeth nearly breaks the skin.

He could feel you pulse under his teeth. Your heartbeat quickened with a mix of adrenaline, lust, and a bit of fear. Your bedmate murdered thousands, and what stops him from killing you?

Teeth clamp down hard, as Makarov finally breaks the skin. A small moan escape your mouths as you feel Makarov lick at the blood. He rotates from hard bites to gentlely licking.

"Fuck me or die." Makarov says through gritted teeth, his accent thickened with lust and violence.

Even though the night would end in bloodstained sheets, you were more than happy to fuck him till the sun rose up.

[saturncodedstarlette]

Y/N : If I betray you, I betray myself. ..

Y/N : If I betray Price, I betray my country.

Y/N : My country is very dear to me——

Makarov : Dearer than I?

Y/N : No… no. Not dearer than you.

[ghxst3m8]

Dangerously yours

Y/N: If I betray you, I betray myself... If I betray him, I betray my country. My country is very dear to me...

Makarov: Dearer than I?

Y/N: No….no. Not dearer than you.

[sudzymactavish]

Bloody Love

Makarov x M!reader

This is a really graphic fic so if you're easily disturbed I REALLY wouldn't read this. :(. I'll make fluff soon 😌 ‼️

TW: blood, gashes, cuts, blood, gore, graphic depictions of murder, crimes, drugging, suffocating reader with rag, slurred speech, reader referred as a dog, teasing, reader feeling fear, reader feeling depressed, reader feeling despair, bribes/141 pays Makarov to keep reader, crying, abandonment, cursing, reader is put on a leash, dehumanizing reader, degrading reader (not sexual), reader referred as an object/trophy, reader bathed by strangers, sedating reader, referring murder to art, kidnapping, knives, bloodlust, military, dark themes in general. If I missed any, I'm so sorry. Please correct me if I missed any TWs.

Your shaky legs stumbled to the door, gashes and cuts riddling your body. A trail of blood followed you, barely making it back to your husband and collapsing.

Months before, you were a member of the 141. They were your friends. You could always trust them, and they could trust you.

Although, that changed when Makarov took you all for himself. Using a cloth sprayed with chloroform, he swiftly dragged you away and took you to his safe house in St. Petersburg.

Goodmorning, sergeant [name]. Makarov held your chin in his hand, cooing down at you. The chloroform still had an effect on you, so you slurred out threats; "you won't get away with this. The 141 will sav-" Makarov laughed in your face.

You silly dog. The 141 isn't going to save you he jeered with a smirk. Your heart beat a little faster at that, the fear setting in that they didn't want to come back for you.

"What are you talking about? They're going to come back. I came for them, they wouldn't just-" pay me to take you? Oh, you poor man. They did. One of Makarov's men showed you a briefcase filled with lots of money. About a million, if you had to estimate.

You can't belive this. You won't belive this. They wouldn't leave you like that. Your mind fell down the rabbit hole, and so did your tears down your face. You cared about your friends, and now they abandon you? Leave you with this.. bastard??

In a fit of anger, you tried to jump at him. To cut him, make him bleed, anything. Your attempt was stopped by a cold metal pulling your neck back.

Horrified, you reached up and felt the cool metal. Makarov had put you on a fucking leash!?

I can't have my favorite man escape, right? He pet you, ruffling your disheveled hair. You should get some rest now. I'll be showing you off tomorrow, my little trophy.

He left before you could say anything.

The next morning, you were bathed by his men (you had to be sedated multiple times) and put into a pretty little suit.

You were in despair. You were being paraded to his men around the safe house, that was more like a mansion. Being a criminal was easy money. But none of the money in the world could make your sadness go away. You missed home. You missed the loving feeling you got from the boys.

You ate extravagant food, but you weren't hungry. You just wanted to be home. To feel at home. Nothing could replace that.

One day, after a few months of this, you didn't crack. You were still severely depressed from your only home being ripped away from you. You know, I've seen your file, [name]. Your eyes widened. First of all, how did he gets his hands on that? Also, did he see your past?

In the past, you were a delinquent. Getting in trouble, sneaking out, getting pulled over, mass murder..

You had a really bad problem. You killed a few people—you swear you didn't mean to. You escaped that whole mess and joined the 141, half of you hoping to do good after your horrible actions.

But gosh, you missed that feeling. You missed the blood splatting all over you. You loved seeing that silver blade plunge into their hears. It was art. Red paint covering a canvas, your brush sharp. It was actually half the reason you joined the military, to continue your artistic passion. Would Makarov fill your bloodlust?

I DO NOT condone ANYTHING in this fic. Everything that is done to reader is NOT OKAY. Anyways.. that was really dark. How about something to cheer yall up??

[glittergoblinz]

Thinking about Makarov saving you from an arranged marriage....

(TW: Implied death/hanging)

Like, obviously he isn't doing it out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn't feel bad for you in the slightest. He just knows he'd benefit more from having you for himself if he was the one to marry you instead of your fiancee.

Maybe you're the eldest child of some Russian politician or just the eldest child of one of his business partners.

He can use you as leverage for any future dealings or negotiations if he has you instead of your fiancee having you.

So it definitely wouldn't be a relationship built on love....at least not at first. It would take YEARS for him to even develop the slightest amount of feelings for you, if at all.

Shit, maybe he won't even realize he even had feelings for you at all until he's getting that cord wrapped around his neck by Price and Makarov realizes he won't be making it back home to you. Ever

...............................................

I'm definitely gonna be working on a mini fic of this in the future. Just don't know when yet

[s0apmactav1sh]

King!Price x Knight!Reader x Price's husband. Solution to all romantic problems. Polyamory.

Ooo could make it so Prices husband is actually Makarov and the whole reason your on edge is because makarov looks that exact same as a king you used to serve only you thought he was dead. So seeing him again has brought back memories of your 'previous' life and you dont want to accept that he could be incase your just mistaking yourself of it.

Or

What if Prices husband is attempting to get rid of you because your in the way of him having Price assassinated because even if your distanting yourself from the king your still on edge each time they are together.

Or or

Nik could be prices husband and your surprised because he was someone you grew up with, became a knight because and lost due to moving up in ranks quicker than he could. And when you figured out he left the guards and the kingdom you realised you lost your only friend. So seeing Nik again in Prices arms has you devestated cuz you didnt expect to lose your lover to your ex-bestfriend

[burstinn]

REQUEST!

as a male!Reader, I feel very represented in your works,

could you write a male!Reader that’s really tall? Like, humongous? In hight, and body? (In the military as well)

I always see male!Readers that are so small and tiny and baby.

like, no. You get me? Just saying. Thanks!

Male! Reader with the height and body of a goddamn Monster.

(Headcanons)

Note: some mentions on top reader but I like to keep it ambiguous. So you can read it as a switch! Reader. This is a quick drabble of some Hcs

People shown: Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, Keegan, Graves, Nikto, König, Horangi, Logan Walker,Roach, Makarov, Krueger

-Reader is 6'5.

-Basically built like the Russian terminator guy

GHOST

- Got shocked when he first saw you, wanted to seem more intimidating than you.

-So he puffed out his chest and glared at you.. Bro wants to challenge you nahh 😭😭🙏🙏

-You would fold him tho ngl (in the ring and in bed fr fr)

-when he got comfortable with you kinda jealous his title of the big, tall intimidating man got taken away.

-When you sparred with Ghost it was a tough fight but you managed to get Ghost in a chokehold wrapping one of your tough bulging sexy ass arms around Ghost's neck.

-Never knew he wanted to be man handled so bad it was Hot he had to excuse himself and run off because he got hard.

-Starts imaging if your cock is just as big.. Spoiler alert.. It is..

SOAP

-Looks at you then Ghost mind blown that there was someone more humongous than Ghost

-Teased Ghost for awhile

-Drools over your pecs..

-He totally dreams of being crushed by you..

Or being crushed between Ghost and you.. Or both..

-Asks if he could feel your guns (Your arms..)

(IT COULD ALSO BE YOUR HUGE THROBBING CO-)

-Keeps glancing at your cock. Even though it's clothed.. I mean look at you.. Your manhood is basically too tight for your pants he can literally see your outline.

-Soap asked if he could measure your Length.. So he could see how far it could go inside of him YK?! YOU UNDERSTAND.

GAZ

-More interested than having dirty thoughts.

-Keeps asking how you got that big

-Wants to be just as strong as you

-Cutie patootie (T_T)

-Basically hangs around you to see how you work

-Even follows you so he could watch you train and spar

-Asks about your diet and if how your body looks is genetic

-inspired by you. Like a child (😭😭WHALUAAHHAH GAZZ)

PRICE

-Beneficial for him I mean he gets to have another soldier that's just as intimidating as Ghost.. Maybe even more.

-Is like a proud father

-Talks to everyone about you and how bla bla bla

-Trains with you

-He'd show you tricks and tips on how he trains and you show him tips and tricks on how you train

-Probably has a picture of you at his desk.. Beside the other pictures of his other not biological family. Aka. The whole 141..basically has a pic of everyone they all family up in 'ere

KEEGAN

-Heh.. Yknow.. Pictures..

-In the showers in lockers makes sure he's there near so he can see you in all your glory

-Probably had wet dreams about you

-Also makes sure he's there when your training. It's not like he's obvious everyone there is fuckin watching you

-What's that? You wearing a compression shirt? 🤨🤨 nuh uh in the sex chamber you go 👉

-Touching, touching, touching EVERYTHING

NIKTO

-Quiet

-What the fuck

-Silent panicking

-Jealous very jealous

-Compares himself to you, would train harder just so he can look like you (bb nooo 😭😭)

-Would watch also how you train your body so he could copy it

-You caught him once training in the middle of the night.. And he's using your technique on how you use the punching bags.. He's just getting some stuff wrong..

-When he notices you he got.. Slightly embarrassed and angry.. Panicked inside when you came closer asking him if he was using your technique in training

-You trained him properly on how you do it.

-so like now.. You train him in the middle of the night..

GRAVES

-same as price shows you off but more in an annoying way

-Hes boasting

-Would face you off against his strongest shadows no diff you still win.. Yuuuhhh

-Subtle touching like hand on shoulder, arm, head whatever.

KÖNIG

-Relieved that he has someone that looks like him.. Albeit slightly shorter.. Still!

-Got nervous meeting you first.. Forced himself to act tough to impress you I mean he is a colonel

-Makes sure to be in missions with you. Wants to see you in your most serious and intimidating

-Got intimidated himself once he saw how you act on field

-Tries to be on your good side the whole time

-One day he was watching you and just started thinking about YOU KNOWWW!!

-Blasphemous! He got red and cried to Horangi about it

HORANGI

-You know about this guy

-He's silly

-He'd read fanfics thinking it's him and you

-he'd make fanfics too, about you and him maybe adds König

-Shows it to König all proud and shit as if König isn't looking at him with absolute horror in his face when he reads what Horangi wants to do with you or you with him.

-He's delusional

-Slapped your ass and blamed it on someone else that's near him. It was König.

-Is it as veiny as your arms? A man can only dream.

-gives you a soda can and tells you to crush it in your arms.. Better yet in between your legs.

-Would then tell you like "good now do my head"

-PlEASE let him be between your thighs

LOGAN WALKER

-Rolled his eyes when he saw you

-Avoids you like the plague

-Why doesn't he like you? No idea. He a big pussy bitch is what. He sad you get more dick n pussy than him.

-Complained about you to Hesh

-He may not like you. He can't lie tho. You are good at your job so like he can't do anything about that

MAKAROV

-Sex Chamber. Now.

ROACH

-Quiet around you..

-Looks up at you like a damn bug. It's cute. He likes it when he looks up at you

-He'd jump on you and crawls around like a cockroach

-haha funi jok

-Would use your shoulder as a seat.

-If you do pushups he'd be on top of your back

ALEX KELLER

-Oh..

-Audible gulp sound (haha he's drinking your seme-)

KRUEGER

-Curses in German

-Dreaming about HAHAHAHAAHAH

-If he's fingering his gun to clean it he just.. Thinks..

-If he sees YOU finger your gun to clean it.. That's it he's done.

-He's dragging you somewhere

[diejager]

Could you write hcs for the first time having sex with makarov with a ftm!reader who didn’t get bottom surgery tyy

I’ve never written FtM!readers so I will get things wrong.

NSFW Headcanon

Pairing: Vladimir Makarov x FtM!reader

Cw: smut, dysmorphia, rough sex, soft sex, rough and soft dom, use of cunt and T-dick, SLIGHTLY DARK, drunk sex, PinV, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 510

He uses sex and intimacy as a leverage, but with you, someone he’d grown so close to, he holds you close to him, like a wolf keeping his prey within his maw. Makarov’s like a wolf, stalking and hunting, biding his time until he strikes. He waits for the right time, the perfect moment where he has you on your knees, desperately pawing at his feet for a second of attention.

Once he has you broken down, listening to your tearful murmurs of self-loathing, how your body didn’t feel like your own, half changed to fit the one you found comfort in, he takes you through highs and lows, splitting you apart only to remake you. He breaks you into fractions, your whimpers turning into moans, and your moans into mewls; your struggling turning into writhing, and you writhing into tension; and your weak glare turning into a soft, dopey gaze, your hardened expression becoming adoringly soft.

He fucks you like he’d fuck any prostitutes his affiliates would bring home, rough and hard, taking from you and manhandling you as he saw fit. He ploughs into you with harsh thrusts, snapping his hips after he bent you in half, splitting you in half with the girth of his cock in your tight cunt. He tears into you with vicious bites and snares, whispering deceptively sweet lies - white lies to appease you - that has you thrashing beneath him, back arching and clenching down on his cock.

But Makarov is also generous and tender, murmuring adoring praises and words of affirmation, reminding you of who you are —you are who you become, not who you are born. In his eyes you are as much of a man as he is, telling you over and over that he believes you are a man, not the daughter your parents keep insisting you are.

Makarov stretches you out slowly, surprisingly gentle with his fingers, wetting them and scissoring you while he pulls and kisses your little T-dick, making sure you whine and ask for more. He raises himself as a dominant man, but he can be as soft as he is dominating, coaxing you to take your time as you ride him, steadily sinking down on him with encouraging words and the roll of his thumb on your cock. He makes sure you are comfortable for your first moment of intimacy with him, letting you adjust before he pounds you into the mattress.

For a man of power and strength, he values loyalty and usefulness, and you are both, so he keeps you close with whatever means necessary. Whether it be soft and gentle sex after a drunken night after you confessed your feelings to him, turning your inebriated stupor into your first act of intimacy with him, testing the waters with both his and your kinks; or using your love and loyalty to him to coax you into his bed, turning you into a little doll for him to fuck and sink his cock into your tight and warm heat.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy

[aremiya]

Bottom Makarov x reader smut

Quick warning! This is 18+ content right here! If you aren't 18+ i suggest click off now ^^

𝙸𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝?

ᵖᵒʷᵉʳᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ!ᵐᵃᵏᵃʳᵒᵛ ˣ ᵗᵒᵖ!ᵃᵐᵃᵇ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉr

(reader doesn't have a clear gender just that they have a dick, it's up to you if you want them to be male or transgender)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't believe I'm doing this. Vladimir Makarov, the notorious terrorist leader, is laying in front of me, his tight ass beckoning me to take him. But he's not like other bottoms I've been with before. He's a power bottom, and he's in complete control.

I kneel behind him, feeling his eyes on me as I position myself. I'm nervous, but also excited. Makarov is a force to be reckoned with, and the fact that he's willingly submitting to me is a huge turn on.

As I enter him, I can feel his power. He's pushing back against me, taking me deeper and deeper inside him. It's like he's daring me to try and take control, but I know that's not going to happen.

"Ты готов подчиниться мне?" he growls in Russian, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

I nod, feeling a mix of fear and arousal. Makarov is in control, and I'm completely at his mercy.

For what feels like hours, we move together in a wild dance of pleasure and domination. Makarov is in charge, but he's also giving me what I need. He's pushing me to my limits, but he's also taking care of me in his own way.

And then, with one final thrust, he brings me to the brink. I come hard, spilling myself deep inside him as he continues to ride me. It's like he's not satisfied until he's completely drained me.

As we collapse in a heap, panting and sweating, I realize that Makarov is something special. He's a power bottom, yes, but he's also a true master of domination. And I'm lucky to have experienced it firsthand.

ᴜɢʜ ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ᴄʀɪɴɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ(⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

[thegnomelord]

Once, you were part of a taskforce with John Price as your captain. Once, you were his right hand, the one who looked up to him and stuck by him through hell or high water. But a botched mission landed you in Makarov's 'care'. You tried to hold out for Price, you waited, and waited, and waited. But help did not come, your loyalty repaid with betrayal.

Now you're Makarov's dog. You bark when he tells you, you shoot when he orders, and you bite out the throat of whoever he wants. And he's there to wipe the crimson off your cheeks and lick the blood staining your teeth, rewarding your loyalty with his attention and sweet pleasure. Once his touch would have made disgust curl under your skin, but now your body craves it like a drug. You are his after all, his good dog.

His Hound.

Chapter 1: Good Dog

Playlist if anyone wants it lol

[fortheb0ys]

"makarov, a war criminal, you think he'll let you breed him?" yes silly goose!!

YES, HE WOULD DEFINITELY🗣

Makarov beg to be filled. Going multiple rounds, his belly slightly distended from your cum and he'd still beg.

He'd lay in your arms while your cock is still in him, leaving hickies and deep bite marks on your neck.

Breeding most definitely wouldn't be the only kink he'd have. Burn play, knife play, bondage! Likes your hands around his throat. He'd like it rough. He likes pain. Something is his brain gets so turned on by it. So, pain in sex would be his go-to.

I think he likes to get hurt more than to hurt you. But he LOVES marking. Just showing off what's his.

[saturncodedstarlette]

Makarov : I have very high standards, I’d never date anyone clu—

Y/N walking in, tripping & falling face first on the floor : Ah shit—

Y/N, gets up & walks it off like nothing happened : Oh hi guys!

Makarov, under his breaths : I want them.

[ghxst3m8]

Dangerously yours

Y/N: I will betray you

Makarov: If you do you will betray yourself at the same time

Y/N: Yes... Yes I know