taste-of-the-divine

[taste-of-the-divine]

riding him after he cums - vax'ildan

'thank you for letting me cum inside, thank you thank you thank you- oh fuck wait stop stop stop--oh my go-nnnuhholyshit its so tight when you squeeze like that fuck it hurts waitplease-- hold-hold on!-I just ca-ame-fuck--- you can't-- it hurts it hurts!--ohmygoditssowetwaitwai-ouhhhffffffff- i'm really-- hhhnng-- really sensitive--oh jesus-mmmmffffff-!...oh....fuck.... why... what-- waitno--.. why did you stop-no i- i didn't mean it... you know i-- please? sit back down, please- pleasepleaseplease-'

[taste-of-the-divine]

Hello! I think I've come to the conclusion that between Vax and Percy, a mix of them would be my ideal guy, and it has my Sleep Token brain worm freaking out. 😭 I was curious on what you think a character like that would be like in general and romantically (and NSFW if ur down). Thank you sm!<3

ah yes, the crossing of fandoms.

well if we borrow inspiration from Vax and Percy and Sleep Token, you know they have to wear some sort of mask. I'm thinking something more full face cover, maybe more like a mesh mask (what II wears). Perhaps he also sports a refined button up most days and likes to leave his house in a longer jacket, just because that flow is so mysteriously charismatic how could he not.

His mask might have some sort of marking on them, but his eyes have cutouts, at least. That way you can see him roll his eyes at you when you say something particularly irksome. At least you can tell he's smiling though, the way his eyes blink and curve. He's expressive, even when you can't see his mouth.

He's tall, moves like water, but whenever you brush against him he's got this radiating heat that you want to stay close to. He oddly smells like macaroons and raspberry, and anytime you comment on it he glances over you and mutters, "You don't like it?" and you shake your head, laughing a little at how cute he could be. That's when he breaks eye contact, unsure of what to make of your reaction but too shy to ask. He's unaspiringly good with cats. You assume this is because he usually doesn't talk, and that could be true, too. When he does speak, its something simple and sarcastic, snarky and makes you huff a little with frustration because he thinks he's so amusing. But when he tips your chin up the way he does with the house cat, you can't help wish he'd kiss you. He doesn't though, enjoying it more when you make the first move. So he just brushes your cheek with his thumb and hovers there, a silent daring question of, "You don't really find me annoying. Do you?"

He gets cold easily, so when winter rolls around, you often see him bundled up in his long coat with a scarf. He has many, but he only wears the one you bought him last winter, a muted yellow that brings out the contrast in his eyes. You figure that he doesn't need to wear much else for his face since the mask probably keeps him warm, but you always tell him to wear a hat anyway. And he obliges because it's the only way he could get to take care of you, since you fuss over him too long. He's learned that if he just lets you, he can get you ready for the cold and you two can head out the door quicker.

When you two are in the presence of other people, he's reserved, save for a few small conversations here and there. He's friendly, but quiet-- there isn't much he likes to talk to about with other people because he'd rather share his thoughts with you at night when you two are snuggled up in bed, you on your laptop in bed and him playing a single-player story driven game on the bedroom console. He'll get entranced by the game for a bit because of a cutscene, but when there's a lull in his attention, he'd snuggle a little closer to you, putting his head on your shoulder, looking at what you're doing on your laptop, saying sleepily, "Hi. How are you?" And every time he asks this question, you answer first with a hum, before telling him, "I'm a little cold."

And every time, he lifts the blanket he has draped over his lower body, whispering into your neck, "Come here, then," before grabbing you by the waist and situating you in his lap. His chin rests into the ticklish crook of your shoulder as you adjust your body into his (he's warm, almost burning) and you can feel him slowly relaxing into you as he continues playing his game. Sometimes you shift a bit too much and he lets out a bit of a breathy groan before his hand goes to grab your hips. "Relax, love," he says, voice low and strained. But instead you lean into him, bury your face into his neck, leave a few bites and kisses and it makes him breathe a little heavier, dig his nails into you a little further. You know that he loves it when you go to bed wearing just a pair of cotton panties. It's cute, warms him a little to think about how comfortable you are sleeping with him like that. He knows you trust him, but the unsaid reminders being there were always nice. So he gives it a little tug, watching you for your reaction. And when he sees the corner of your lips curl up into a bit of a smile, he lowers his fingers under the waistband. It's all slow, experimental touches, some nail digging on the inner parts of your thigh, rubbing a palm over where he knows you like it. Teases the little bud and listens to your sounds before he slicks his finger up with you. Tantalizing-- accompanied with whispers of, "Yeah? You're so pretty rolling your hips for me like that. Gorgeous little thing," he mutters, before kissing the skin behind your ear. You whimper and he loves it, does whatever he did again to get that same sound out of you. Then, when he knows you're not expecting it, he slides a finger in, curls it just right, and slides it back out before you can get the satisfaction you want. It's so pretty when your body curls into him like that. Makes him drunk on the power he has over you. So he does it again. And again. And again. Until you're panting and frustrated and nearly begging. And then he does it one more time for good measure, and you whimper. That's when he gives it to you the way he knows you like it. His other hand is trailing the expanse of your body. You can hear his breathing get labored when you make a really good sound, feel his body cage a little more tightly around yours. The way he touches you reminds you that he loves you. He's not shy to say it either, speaking low and almost whispering it into your skin. You say it back, but it comes out like a strangled plea more than a declaration. He doesn't ever seem to mind, though.

He knows when you're close, loves the feeling of your body clenching around his fingers. You can feel his hard-on grinding into your lower back, but you're so close that he'd better not stop what he's doing. You're almost there, he could make you cum right now-- if he lets you.

Some nights, he does. He loves watching you melt, swallowing thickly as he takes in the view of your body shuddering. Some nights, he doesn't, and instead gets you right up to the edge only to take his fingers out and adjust himself out of his boxers and sweatpants. Leans against the backboard as you're frustrated before he lifts you up by the legs and seats you back down on him, all of him, all at once, and you can't help the strangled noise that bubbles in your throat. He coaxes it out of you though, tells you how pretty you sound and how sexy you look and how he just wants to pump you full of cum. To stop holding it in, let it out for me baby, you've had a stressful week, let me take care of you.

And you let him, because neither of you would rather be doing anything else.

[taste-of-the-divine]

hi loves!

i will return soon xoxo!

[taste-of-the-divine]

hello! i’m keeping an eye on my inbox and things, and i see the asks! but i have been absent from my tumblr and tiktok because honestly i’m not ovulating atm LMAOOOOOO

i’ll return soon! ❤️

[taste-of-the-divine]

Sketches with beautiful Sleep Tokens. I drew while watching a recording of their concert. (I draw too many things...)

[taste-of-the-divine]

the bigger the better . . . . .

141 + konig masturbation headcanons <3

18+ minors dni!!! no age in your bio? blocked.

so, exactly what it says on the tin really! just thought i would write out a little blurb for each of the boys, and how i think they prefer to get off, or what they think about/what they use etc!! hope y'all like this bcus it was fun as hell to write :)) and so i present-just under 400 words for each man on jerking off!! (apart from the 456 words i did for gaz, not sure why i just couldn't stop writing his lol)

Price;

He doesn’t actually get off all that often. He prefers to be with you, if we’re being honest. Considering he’s not as young as he once was, it takes him a little longer to get fully worked up, and he’d rather just wait until you’re together to get off rather than have a less satisfying session with his own hand, and be too tired or worn out when he sees you next. For when he actually jerks off though, he’s a simple guy. 

So it’s few and far between anyway, and he’ll usually wait until he’s in the peace and comfort of his own home. He keeps his work life and his personal life very separate, and so the idea of touching himself or doing anything remotely inappropriate on base or in his office is absolutely off the table. Price will wait until he gets home, grab himself a drink, usually some scotch or brandy, and a cigar and he’ll settle down onto his bed or his favorite armchair. He makes sure he has tissues and lube close to hand, because he likes to be prepared. He’ll use lube straight away as well, he likes the smooth glide of it over his cock and finds little pleasure in the rough drag of his bare hand. Honestly, it also helps him imagine your hand a little better, whether or not you’re dating by this point doesn’t matter, for these few moments he can drop his head, close his eyes, and imagine your much smaller and softer hand wrapped around his length. Every now and then he’ll dip a hand down to fondle his balls gently, pulling lightly at the sac and rolling them between his lubed fingers, but he finds the most pleasure in simple strokes of his cock, twisting every few times, and before long he’ll start swiping his thumb against the tip to make himself cum. He’s pretty quick about it, not necessarily by conscious choice but he just knows exactly how to get himself off and often sees no point beating around the bush for very long. Price isn’t the loudest man ever, but he’s also not silent. He likes to let a bit of sound out, low grunts every now and then-but that’s only on his own, when he’s with you he likes to groan and talk and spill out whatever is in his head.

Konig;

Konig has a very hungry appetite. Given the choice, he would much rather have you and would wait if you asked, without a doubt, but often he just can’t focus until he’s gotten himself off. When people talk about the blood leaving their brain and going straight to their cock? Yeah that’s Konig. His thought process gradually slows and halts, he finds himself unable to focus and making mistakes he usually wouldn’t until he can finally get a hand around his length. He has a couple of toys as well, but most of the time he prefers to use his hands-it makes it easier to imagine someone else and let his mind roam freely.

He likes doing it on his bed, because it means he has the ability to lie face down and rut into his hand or his pillow, he can sit on the edge and lean back on one hand, imagining you kneeling between his thighs, he can lie back and relax, take his time with it and think about all the things he would do to you if you were there. Konig also gradually gets louder. He doesn’t start like that, he actually always tells himself he’ll be quiet this time. This time, he’ll keep his mouth shut and he won’t make a sound apart from maybe the occasional deep breath in or broken gasp-and everytime he breaks. Every single time. He gets his hand around his cock and he sucks in a breath, and when he starts stroking it’s only a matter of minutes before his mind is empty and he’s babbling moans and whimpers at it, unable to think of anything else apart from feeling the most pleasure he can. He doesn’t do this all that often, but sometimes he will grab the small bottle of lube from his bedside table and coat one maybe two fingers in it, slipping them down past his balls and pressing into that perfect spot. Half the time he does this he doesn’t even push in, he’ll just circle them around his hole and that pressure alone will be enough to make him cum after teasing himself for so long. Other times, he pushes against the small stretch of flesh just behind his balls, dropping his head back and grinding down on the pressure as it pushes little by little on his prostate inside. 

Ghost;

He’s more meticulous about it than anyone else. It bothers him that in some situations all he can think about is his dick or how badly he needs to empty his balls, he likes to be in control and that extends to his body as well. Ghost chastises himself when he sees a small sliver of your skin and finds his blood diverting, trying to adjust his crotch and beat down any kind of thoughts or reactions before he starts thinking with his cock and nothing else. Mostly, it bothers him that he can sit behind his scope for hours on end, he can stay perfectly still and not move a muscle for as long as is needed, but then he’ll be sitting in the mess hall, he sees or thinks one thing and suddenly he can’t make his body behave, can’t make it do what he wants. 

When he inevitably goes to his room and decides he needs to deal with what his body is doing (it happens a couple times a week probably, otherwise he can pretty much keep a lid on it) he tends to opt for jerking off in the shower. He does it for a multitude of reasons to be honest. One is that he absolutely hates the mess he makes. If he’s with someone or when you’re finally together, he loves the mess. He fucking loves making you all sloppy and sticky and the squelching noises and all of it, but when he’s on his own and just wants some stress relief? Fuck if he has to clean up his own jizz afterwards, when he just wants to go to sleep. Ghost also is not very vocal during, but he does make a few sounds. They’re mostly low grunts and groans, but he loathes the thoughts of anyone hearing, and so he also likes the shower because the running water masks any noises he might make. Side note, he also love love loves fisting his hand loosely around his length and pressing his other against the tiles in front of him, rocking his hips back and forwards into the wet ring he’s created. He’ll never admit that it’s because he’s fantasising about you in front of him.

Soap;

One of the only ones who owns any toys. Well, the only one who uses them with any regularity. He’s got a little collection going, complete with a wand, a bullet vibe, blindfolds handcuffs etc, a couple of smaller sized dildos and his absolute favourite-his fleshlight. Soap did have a couple, but then he found one that was the perfect tightness, and felt just right when coated in lube-and now he barely uses anything else. 

The other toys are brought out when he has time to spare, maybe a free evening and he feels like teasing himself a little bit, and those evenings are usually full of edging and likely two orgasms instead of just one. It takes him a little while but he is able to go for more than one, so he mostly only does it on those nights, because he knows he has the time and the exact tools to make it happen. Generally though, he’ll get off most nights. When he was younger it was like he just needed the relief and an out for everything, but he also just has a pretty good libido. He’ll see you bending over in an office and know exactly what he’s fantasising about that evening, or let his gaze fall to your cleavage as you bend over and he suddenly has to go back to his room early. Soap is also quite loud, moaning and gasping and muttering to himself as if you’re actually there. He’ll drizzle lube into the opening of the fleshlight and tease himself a little bit first, rocking it over the first inch or two of his shaft, before sinking it down in one like he imagines you might do if you rode him. Also, he’s utterly addicted to propping it on something about waist height, and pistoning his hips mercilessly into it, because it’s the position that feels the most real to him-and his legs always go weak afterwards. He always grumbles to himself afterwards though when he remembers he has to clean it out-but then next time rolls around and his hand just won't do, he’s gotta get his toy out again…

Gaz;

Gaz likes to tease himself the most out of the boys. It just makes it all so much more fun in his eyes, working himself up and seeing how long he can last before he absolutely has to touch his dick. He does have times where for example he’ll wake up with a morning wood and he’ll quickly take care of it, or before he goes to sleep he might jump in the shower, get himself off and then pass out. Those times are always efficient and focused more on finding relief or getting the stress of the day out rather than pleasuring himself, so it’s more common for him to do that-but he prefers the other times.

The other times in question are the days when he’s been riling himself up all day, or maybe for the last couple of days as well. His mind will be filled with a jumble of images of you and things you’ve said to him, smiles you’ve sent his way or just the hand you put on his forearm the day before, and he’ll spend the afternoon subtly pushing against the seams of his trousers, acting like he’s shifting in his chair when really he’s found the perfect way to press the head of his cock against his zipper. When he fucking finally has no more commitments and can lock himself in his rooms for the evening, he’ll strip off completely. It just feels better for whatever reason, so he’ll make sure he’s completely nude and lie down on his bed-and then he’ll just tease himself even more. Gaz will lick the tips of his fingers and drag them across his chest, pinching and pulling at his nipples for a while, until he can’t handle it and he’s so desperate, until his cock is flexing and leaking against his lower belly, drooling and jumping every time his tugs again on his reddened raw nipples. After that, he’ll grab a small bullet vibe and drag that across his chest as well, just to prolong things. At this point he’ll be unable to deny himself any longer and he’ll push it down, pressing it against his frenulum and around the tip of his cock-because of all his teasing, he cums pretty much immediately at this, one hand still pinching at his chest. His orgasm will go on for a while as well, he’ll make an absolute mess of his stomach and his bed, and still be drowning under the waves of pleasure for about a minute before the vibrations are too much for him. Gaz goes boneless when he comes down from his high, and always loathes how much he has to clean up when he manages to lift his head. 

comments, reblogs and asks always appreciated btw because likes don’t spread my work at all! thank u my loves, hope you enjoyed :)

[taste-of-the-divine]

Y/N: König, I need back-up!

König, smirking: Don’t worry, she’s coming to your location now.

Y/N: I got no time. I’m losing ammo and— oh my goodness.

Nicki Minaj: Bad bitch is here. Sorry I am late y/n. Had to reload my F-R-E- AK-47.

[taste-of-the-divine]

girth is better than length, you can't change my mind.

[taste-of-the-divine]

a meal for the masses

when i post this pathetic simon porn im writing none of u are allowed to look at me

[taste-of-the-divine]

hi requests are open so please ask away if you’d like! :3

also a lot of the one parters i’m writing for here and tik tok are just sorta things to get me going. lots of people like the konig x femrecruiter fic n the simon one, so i’ll probably expand… eventually. may be expedited if there’s an ask lolol

[taste-of-the-divine]

jealous!simon x fem!reader

with a side of konig x reader

cw: cheating, dubious consent

notes from divine: i’ll write a part two eventually hehe

ghost hated the way that konig held you by the waist when the two of you thought no one was looking.

but the the truth was that everyone was looking.

it made ghost’s blood boil with jealousy, but he had no place to say anything. he was the one that gave you up in the first place— he left you in tears, you begging him to please, don’t do this to me, i love you, your broken heart scattered like shards of glass on the ground between you.

so why was he surprised, angry, even, that someone else, someone irrefutably better, would come along eventually and put it together for you?

he truly did want you to be happy. but seeing you happy with someone else? now that pissed him off.

you were supposed to be happy with him.

and you weren’t, no matter many times you insisted you were, ghost could pickup on your unannounced frustration.

—the falter in your breath when he came home too late and too tired to watch that favorite show with you, the sadness that outlined your jaw when he forgot an important date because fuck him, he was busy and deployment was nearing, or the tension that rested in-between your eyebrows when he retracted his hands from your hips because for a second, it reminded him of something terrible. to terrible for him to even dare to associate that with you, his lover.

well, his lover, at the time.

because now, you were someone else’s lover, and someone else had their hands on you hips, and kept it there, gripping the way that ghost knew you liked.

you probably showed konig the same way you showed him. somewhere in-between the sheets, in his lap, your hands guiding his, nails sinking into skin—

ghost’s blood boiled. more, if that was even possible.

but you were happy. and as much as simon now hated a man he had never really talked to before you fell into his embrace, he loved you too much to interfere. he was pissed, but if you were happy, then that was that.

they talked once, though, when their squads had to train together, and him and konig awkwardly stood in each others presence during the aftermath.

“how is she?” was all that ghost asked.

konig was confused for a moment, since he hadn’t really put much weight on your previous relationship with the lieutenant. you didn’t talk about him much, just a few words before a bittersweet smile.

“ah. y/n? she’s doing well.”

konig would have expanded more, if ghost hadn’t interrupted him with a grunt, and walked off.

konig told you about the interaction later that night, when the two of you were in bed, cuddling. your heart twinged a little, curling in on itself and seemingly wilting. he cared, still. he always did, when you were dating. but you figured that the breakup meant that he stopped.

guiltily, and without konig’s knowledge, you decide to send ghost a text, to meet somewhere public, like a cafe, and talk about… things. you didn’t know what, but that didn’t matter, because to your surprise, ghost texted a yes back instantly.

so when konig is working, you slip out of your home to the aforementioned cafe. ghost is there, having arrived before you, your typical order already on the table, himself with nothing.

“y/n.”

“simon.”

at first, the conversation is uncomfortable, the both of you stepping on the other’s figurative buttons— but by the second dry joke and held back laughter, the two of you fell back into something comfortable. the elephant in the room— your now boyfriend, however, was left unmentioned for the first hour. that is, until ghost said that he wanted to talk to you about more serious things, somewhere more private.

“simon,” you say slow, his name searing your lips. your eyes match his gaze, a pounding in your heart. “i’m with someone… i’m with konig.”

he hesitates— and you’ve never seen him uncertain before. in a way it was endearing as it was nerve wracking. “i know. i know that, y/n.” he looks around the cafe. “but please. there’s so much i want to tell you, but—“

“but you’re uncomfortable here,” you finish for him. you knew him better than he knew himself, really. ghost was a private person. meeting at a cafe was him compromising for you. you knew it wasn’t something that he would have preferred.

“yeah.”

eventually, you caved.

back at his place, things looked more disheveled since you were here last. the counter was a mess, a blanket and a few pillows on the couch, no doubt moved from his bedroom. you figured that he hadn’t been able to sleep in silence since you left, needing the comfort of the television.

he senses the tension crawling under your skin as you stood by his counter, one hand grazing the granite edge— heard the hitch in your breath when he caged you with his frame.

his eyes caressed the curves of your face before his finger did, and his scent— so familiar and yet so unfamiliar now, god— you flinched.

“simon,” you say, voice stern but soft. he watches as your eyelashes flutter close to compose yourself. “what is it that you wanted to talk about?” it comes out more of a statement than a question. get on with it, stop toying with me.

he drops his hand, places it on the counter next to you. leans his weight into it, your bodies close enough to touched if you moved just an inch. “are you happy with him?”

you hesitate for just a second, konig’s face flashing in your head. your heart lights aflame with guilt. “yes,” you say, as convincingly as you can.

“and you’re done with me?”

now that was unfair. how could he ask you that when he had broken up with you? you look away, refusing to answer.

his finger reaches out to tip your chin so you had to look him in the eyes.

“i asked you a question, y/n.”

you remained silent.

softly, into the shell of your ear, he whispered, “if you don’t answer, i’m going to kiss you. then i’m going to slide my hand up your shirt, and down your legs, and love you the way i should have. so answer me.”

it ran shivers down your spine, but you wouldn’t move. “answer me,” he said, his voice straining between his gritted teeth.

his hands slide up the side of your hips, but instead of the places he promised, you shudder when his fingers dip into the inner skin of your thighs, under the fabric of your sundress. he grazed his nails exactly the way he knew would make you go crazy, a silent reminder that he still remembered how to please you.

and then, his fingers pressed against your core, the fabric of your underwear the only barrier. your breathing goes heavy, and he watches your reaction with an intensity that left your head pounding.

“tell me you’re done with me. you need to, or else I can’t stop myself.”

[taste-of-the-divine]

for those who came for the fic

ꕤ | Cumposure | Konig

— CODMW2 : masturbation!konig x fem!reader

✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: ​you tease konig a little too much, and he has to go take care of himself.

✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: 1k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: objectification (of reader by konig only), slight konig bullying, mention of breeding kink, konig masturbation

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: the world needs more konig masturbation fics fr. share some w/ me if u have some :')

♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

he felt so dirty for thinking about you that way– you were the new recruit, barely a month on the job, and yet he couldn’t help himself. somewhere between the hem of your shirt and the edge of your belt is where his eyes lingered when you did your training. You were too focused, the rest of the room around you forgotten as you practiced– and Konig too distracted, staring at the toned midsection of yours that revealed itself when you moved a certain way, trying to pry his eyes away from the curve of your ass when you forced your way into a position that he’d do anything to be pinned under.

konig was always nervous, but nowadays, he’s visible more so around you, specifically. no one raised an eyebrow when you first met— his stuttering while you were calm and collected considered normal. but now others, like soap, can’t help but crack a joke or two, flung your way and his, sometimes in conjunction. like gradeschool, almost– everyone knew he had some sort of a crush on you, even you did. but it was work, and work was professional, and you’d barely spoken enough words to konig to feel the same. he kept his distance, anyway, admiring from afar being the most daring thing he did, because talking to you required more courage than he could have in a lifetime.

sometimes you’d tease him though, because for a man of his looming stature, it was undeniable how satisfying it was to see him blush and his mind go blank by a mere change of clothes, or a touch of the arm. taking off your t-shirt to reveal a skin-tight tank underneath drove him wild– you noticed that he would purposefully take apart his pistols to put back together whenever you did this, attempting to offer his brain a distraction instead of staring. and on those very rare occassions, you’d be daring enough to make his life a living hell– sitting on his lap inbetween training at the cafeteria when there wasn’t enough seats to sit with those you were actually friends with —price and soap.

konig, an embarrassed, blushing mess, would excuse himself after only a few minutes of enduring your teasing, leaving you and the others to giggle at his reaction as he fled to the barracks, and to his corner of the room. no one typically was in the barracks during meal time– so he had enough privacy to compose himself. 

and composing meant taking care of the problem that you had decided to invent in his pants, under those boxes, big and throbbing.

a zip followed the sounds of jangling belt buckles, his tactical pants falling to only his mid thigh in case someone entered. he was needy, and before he could even get himself out of his boxers, he had to grip himself over the grey cloth to satiate the tension in his cock. it then met the cool air, his own callused hand from training wrapped around it, jerking quickly from the start. 

it wasn’t wet enough, not that he wasn’t leaking any precum– but he was just so big, so it didn’t matter how much precum he leaked, he always needed to dribble some spit into his hands to get the slippery friction he craved. his entire body jerked suddenly when his wet palm dragged over the sensitive tip, his eyes rolling as he threw his head back against the wall. 

if you exclude the fact that he was humping his cock into his hands, konig was fully clothed, masked and all. he sat on the ground, one leg relaxed and laid straight, the other bent and doing most of the work pumping up into his fingers that he so desperately wished was you instead. his mind replayed everytime he’s seen you bent over, everytime he’s seen a sliver of side boob or the faint poke of your nipples when you were wearing less due to the heat, everytime you deliberately sat your ass on his cock and all that was stopping him from putting it inside was his dignity and some camo fabric. 

his panting got heavier, more desperate, more sensitive, because he was teasing himself now, fucking just the tip into a tight fist with his hips. thank god he had a mask on– it nulled the possibility of anyone seeing him mindnumb with his drool dripping down his chin and his lips parted in heavy breathing as he pathetically jerked off to you. at most, they’d just see his eyes crossing when he jerked himself just right, or when his horny fuck-for-brains gave him a thought that was too satisfying.

he hated that you didn’t even need to be naked in the slightest to get him like this, head filled with nothing but thoughts of cumming inside you in front of everyone else at the cafeteria table. he thought about how tight you’d feel, pussy stretched right over his cock, balls pressed up against the inner of your thigh. what really made him tip over the edge, though, was the wish that you’d beg him to breed you, pump you full–sink his big cock inside and burst, and then keep it there until he finished. every last drop.

so when he cums, it’s a few groans that comes first, followed by ceaseless whimpering as he continued to grip his cock. he wanted to milk his orgasm for as long as he could, it felt so fucking good, and for the entire climax he basically couldn’t see with how crossed his eyes were and how blurry his vision became. his mind went numb with pleasure, beads and beads of semen dribbling nonstop out of the tip for longer than he could hold his breath. 

and like that, it was over. sometimes he could go twice, but it’s too risky– someone was due to walk in any second. but he laid there, anyway, still and with his hand loosely holding his cock, catching his breath for only a minute. and then, he’d rejoin you and the others for the second half of the day’s training, composed and a little less anxious.

© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

[taste-of-the-divine]

rain down on me but it’s really vessel worshipping your body, coaxing your wet pussy to drip all over his lips as he pries your legs apart and sends shivers up your spine with kitten licks. —and his thick fingers inside you, delicious and curling, with his palm open to make space for his chin pressed against his little plaything.

oh by the gods, will you cleanse me with pleasure?

[taste-of-the-divine]

something about masked men…like damn

I would let them run me over for fun

Still learning about these so

[taste-of-the-divine]

I live for saying things out loud but...

I LOVE MY TWO BESTIES THAT I JUST FOUND HERE (platonically).

Thank you for your attention.

(This post is devoted to you: @ittwuh @a-s-levynn; sorry people.)

Here is a creaturing Vessel for the feed.

We love this man connecting the fanbase.

[taste-of-the-divine]

ꕤ | Cumposure | Konig

— CODMW2 : masturbating!konig x femtease!reader

✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: ​you tease konig a little too much, and he has to go take care of himself.

✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: 1k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: objectification (of reader by konig only), slight konig bullying, mention of breeding kink, konig masturbation

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: the world needs more konig masturbation fics fr. share some w/ me if u have some :')

♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

he felt so dirty for thinking about you that way– you were the new recruit, barely a month on the job, and yet he couldn’t help himself. somewhere between the hem of your shirt and the edge of your belt is where his eyes lingered when you did your training. You were too focused, the rest of the room around you forgotten as you practiced– and Konig too distracted, staring at the toned midsection of yours that revealed itself when you moved a certain way, trying to pry his eyes away from the curve of your ass when you forced your way into a position that he’d do anything to be pinned under.

konig was always nervous, but nowadays, he’s visible more so around you, specifically. no one raised an eyebrow when you first met— his stuttering while you were calm and collected considered normal. but now others, like soap, can’t help but crack a joke or two, flung your way and his, sometimes in conjunction. like gradeschool, almost– everyone knew he had some sort of a crush on you, even you did. but it was work, and work was professional, and you’d barely spoken enough words to konig to feel the same. he kept his distance, anyway, admiring from afar being the most daring thing he did, because talking to you required more courage than he could have in a lifetime.

sometimes you’d tease him though, because for a man of his looming stature, it was undeniable how satisfying it was to see him blush and his mind go blank by a mere change of clothes, or a touch of the arm. taking off your t-shirt to reveal a skin-tight tank underneath drove him wild– you noticed that he would purposefully take apart his pistols to put back together whenever you did this, attempting to offer his brain a distraction instead of staring. and on those very rare occassions, you’d be daring enough to make his life a living hell– sitting on his lap inbetween training at the cafeteria when there wasn’t enough seats to sit with those you were actually friends with —price and soap.

konig, an embarrassed, blushing mess, would excuse himself after only a few minutes of enduring your teasing, leaving you and the others to giggle at his reaction as he fled to the barracks, and to his corner of the room. no one typically was in the barracks during meal time– so he had enough privacy to compose himself. 

and composing meant taking care of the problem that you had decided to invent in his pants, under those boxes, big and throbbing.

a zip followed the sounds of jangling belt buckles, his tactical pants falling to only his mid thigh in case someone entered. he was needy, and before he could even get himself out of his boxers, he had to grip himself over the grey cloth to satiate the tension in his cock. it then met the cool air, his own callused hand from training wrapped around it, jerking quickly from the start. 

it wasn’t wet enough, not that he wasn’t leaking any precum– but he was just so big, so it didn’t matter how much precum he leaked, he always needed to dribble some spit into his hands to get the slippery friction he craved. his entire body jerked suddenly when his wet palm dragged over the sensitive tip, his eyes rolling as he threw his head back against the wall. 

if you exclude the fact that he was humping his cock into his hands, konig was fully clothed, masked and all. he sat on the ground, one leg relaxed and laid straight, the other bent and doing most of the work pumping up into his fingers that he so desperately wished was you instead. his mind replayed everytime he’s seen you bent over, everytime he’s seen a sliver of side boob or the faint poke of your nipples when you were wearing less due to the heat, everytime you deliberately sat your ass on his cock and all that was stopping him from putting it inside was his dignity and some camo fabric. 

his panting got heavier, more desperate, more sensitive, because he was teasing himself now, fucking just the tip into a tight fist with his hips. thank god he had a mask on– it nulled the possibility of anyone seeing him mindnumb with his drool dripping down his chin and his lips parted in heavy breathing as he pathetically jerked off to you. at most, they’d just see his eyes crossing when he jerked himself just right, or when his horny fuck-for-brains gave him a thought that was too satisfying.

he hated that you didn’t even need to be naked in the slightest to get him like this, head filled with nothing but thoughts of cumming inside you in front of everyone else at the cafeteria table. he thought about how tight you’d feel, pussy stretched right over his cock, balls pressed up against the inner of your thigh. what really made him tip over the edge, though, was the wish that you’d beg him to breed you, pump you full–sink his big cock inside and burst, and then keep it there until he finished. every last drop.

so when he cums, it’s a few groans that comes first, followed by ceaseless whimpering as he continued to grip his cock. he wanted to milk his orgasm for as long as he could, it felt so fucking good, and for the entire climax he basically couldn’t see with how crossed his eyes were and how blurry his vision became. his mind went numb with pleasure, beads and beads of semen dribbling nonstop out of the tip for longer than he could hold his breath. 

and like that, it was over. sometimes he could go twice, but it’s too risky– someone was due to walk in any second. but he laid there, anyway, still and with his hand loosely holding his cock, catching his breath for only a minute. and then, he’d rejoin you and the others for the second half of the day’s training, composed and a little less anxious.

© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌