Konig X Fem Reader Smut - Tumblr Posts

My love if your asks are still open, can you maybe write something when König finds out reader is pregnant? Any changes, does he go more crazy for them?

Plus if he somehow knocked her up the poor girl up with multiples? Man would be ecstatic….

omg I LOVE SEEING YOU IN MY ASKS 😫😫 (i had to scroll down to my february reqs to find you :3) 🤧💌

MDNI. pregnancy sex 🍼, multiple positions, creampie!

he’d walked in on you vomiting your guts up one morning, rushing to hold back your hair as you emptied your insides into the toilet. “my liebe? are you sick?” he was worried, naturally. blue eyes wide and unsettled. “not exactly.” you’d smiled shyly, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. the bitter, acidic aftertaste was vile — but your husband’s large hand cradling your head helped to alleviate it.

once you’d divulged your pregnancy to him, having to fish the test from the bin when he didn’t quite believe you, you soon found yourself with your hands gripping onto the sink — one bent leg pinned to the bathroom counter as he fucked into you from behind. “finally.” he grunted into your ear.

the rest of the day played out like that: your pussy stuffed full of his meaty cock as pints of cum poured into your fertilised uterus with every round of feral sex. he was more gentle than usual, his hips rolling and grinding rather than rutting and slamming. his cockhead would occasionally graze your cervix like a kiss, instead of hammering against it like a battering ram.

you’d reminded him that your child was the size of a bean at this point, but he didn’t care. your cunt still clung salaciously to his prick all the same, despite his kinder rhythm. either way, you were still able to cream around him without fail; and your womb was overflowing with his generous spews of potent semen — thick spunk weeping out of your jammed hole around the girth of his cock.

at your first scan and intimate check (where the poor nurse was forced to witness the way könig’s cum was leaking from your raw and reddened entrance) it was revealed that triplets were on the way! not surprising, your husband always bore a heavy load (within you), and sex always lasted more than a few rounds each session.

but you didn’t even make it home to celebrate the revelation! you were promptly bundled into his lap where you later bounced several orgasms out of his dick. the car seats were so sticky :(

he fucked you through your entire pregnancy, not caring what weird and wonderful position he’d have to put you in thanks to your stomach’s growing size. as long as he could find a way to enter you somehow, he would.

now your triplets are happy and healthy, all three adorning könig’s blue eyes and auburn hair. in nine months time the pair of you are expecting to welcome another new arrival into the world, but könig is intent on ensuring he’s once again fucked multiple babies into your still-swollen tummy :3

König and reader stoned breeding!! But like (if you have the time ofc) sitting on his lap and sharing a blunt, while his hands slowly get more and more touchy all over your soft sensitive body! Or taking edibles beforehand and them hitting when he enters you!!

Accidentally he mentions breeding you and you lock your legs around him in instinct! Which only gets him going more!

(Am I 🍃 at the time of writing? Maybe)

EDDIES EDDIES ‼️ being 🍃 when writing is the only way !!

mdni. cannabis, edibles, high sex, raw sex, breeding.

you pass the joint to him, allowing him to finish the rest as you puff out a cloud of the herbal drug. your boyfriend chuckles, fingers that are so much longer and thicker grazing yours when he takes it, positioning it between a pair of slightly chapped lips. (parched from the acidic juices of your pussy where he’s spent most of the night thus far.)

“mein lieb, i think we have a problem.” he inhales from what remains of the roll-up, potent and dizzying. an intoxicating fog fills the room, a haze settling over the bed. you’ve been fucking and smoking all night — you’re both so drunk on sex and cannabis that you couldn’t walk in a straight line if you tried. you can’t walk anyway, he was a bit too rough :((

he taps the burnt-down butt into the ceramic ashtray that had once sat precariously on the bed — three used filters already in it, surrounded by ash. it’s already fallen off the bed thanks to the number y’all did on the bed frame, ash stains and a fourth stub on the floor beside it. “it’s chipped.” you pout, fingertip coasting over the crack in the ashtray. “i made this myself.” you wince when the sharp corner pierces your skin and könig chuckles, lifting it to his mouth to suck it clean. “i was wondering why it has a hand-drawn penis on it, schatz. it is not very big, nein?”

“i did it before i met you.” you chuckle, shuffling onto his lap between beefy, outstretched legs. you pull your slender digit from his mouth, before licking your tongue in its place, tasting the metallic tang of your blood on his. “i’ll make a new one and draw yours on it.” he laughs at that, deep and hearty. “the ashtray will have to be much bigger then, little liebling.” you nod in agreement, smirking against his lips.

you sit up on your knees, straddling his mighty thighs. “baby… i wanna try something. just say no if it’s too much.” his blue eyes narrow at you, fair-haired brows knitting together. “please, lieb. not a strap-on. i do the fucking.” you gasp at the crude assumption, slapping his chest playfully. “oh my god, no! i’m steering clear of your ass, mister.” he hmphs with relief. “gut. so what is it?”

you smile, teetering over to open the drawer of your bedside table. his hands glue themselves to your bent hips, covering the red handprints and fingertip-shaped bruises that already mark them. you swallow a moan when he starts to grind your sticky cunt over his semi, one of its veins massaging your sore clit. bastard hasn’t been flaccid since he first pinned you to the mattress however many hours ago.

when you lean back up, you’ve got two powdery small cubes in your palm — one pink and the other yellow. könig frowns, slowing his movements of manually rocking your hips against his length. “candy?” he presumes, voice unimpressed and dare you say disappointed. you’ve got a devilish look on your face, lips tugging upward as if by invisible string. “sorta.” you say, ghosting your tongue over his bottom lip — tracing the raised skin of a scar that stretches to his jaw. “they’re pebbibles!” your excitement confuses him and his eyes dip to the sweets in your hand.

he takes the yellow one, examining it between his thumb and forefinger. “these are not circular. pebbles are round.” you roll your eyes at his pedantic approach. “it’s a play on words.” your hand — so small in comparison — takes gentle hold of his wrist. your fingers are too short to wrap around it entirely. “they’re boiled gummies.” you tell him, eyes widening when he shrugs and pops it onto his tongue. you stop him, hooking your finger into his mouth like a mother fishing a plastic, choke-hazardous toy from her infant. “which contain canna-oil.”

he just stares at you dumbly, probably offended that you’d snatched the sweet from his watering mouth. you’re hungry too, these munchies are hitting pretty hard, but you need him to know what he’s getting into. he’s never consumed the drug like this before — only ever smoked it. you knew someone once who reacted badly to an edible. “like, cannabis oil, babe.” his eyes light up with understanding then, and he plucks the gummy back. “ah, i see. so why did you do that?”

“i need you to know the risks—” but he pops it into his mouth, chewing it just once before gulping it down. you sit there dumbfounded, mouth agape with your own edible still in the cup of your hand. könig smiles, dangerous. you know that look; you see it every time he fucks his cock into your tight hole. he takes it from your fingers and lifts his hand to place the crystallised cube on your tongue, then gently closes your limp jaw. “go on, my little sonnenschein. let’s have fun, ja?”

you huff out a giggle, surprised. you weren’t expecting him to be so into trying something new. it took you a while to convince him to try a blunt; you thought dust would collect on your shelves by the time you got him to test an eddy. “you’re so sexy.” you snort, chuckling away like a tipsy teenager. he grins lazily and lopsided, eyes half-shut and reddened. “on your back, bärchen.”

you roll off him, legs spreading instinctively so he can position himself between them. you’re so wet from his dick already, a little looser thanks to the impossible stretch of his width. immediately, his mouth is on yours, pulling your lips apart with his teeth before curling his tongue with yours. you can taste the fruitiness of the edibles when your saliva mixes, lips smacking and nipping in a slobbery clash of teeth and groans.

you feel his purplish cockhead pushing at your entrance and he doesn’t even have to try because with a small twitch of his hips, he’s halfway inside, sliding in with lewd ease. for once you’re thankful for his previous force, he’s opened your cunt up so well already, the dregs of your combined cum acting as lubricant. you garble around his tongue as it fucks your mouth, muffling your moans. your high intensifies significantly as soon as he’s balls-deep, the candies choosing the perfect time to manipulate the inebriated senses of your neural waves.

he doesn’t waste time, thrusting his mushroom-tip against the spongy entrance to your cervix without pulling out. your mouth falls open, gaping at the sensation of him fucking into you without retracting a single inch and you glance between your sweaty bodies, your vision slightly doubled as you watch the base of him hammer against your hole over and over. his slick bush of curls brushes against your swollen, exhausted clit every time and you swoon, head thudding against the pillows. “könig~! s’good, fuck-” you’re a mess, babbling like a teething baby whilst the mountainous man above you drills his cock into the silky roof of your cunt.

“Scheiße.” he croaks, overstimulated and strangely sensitive already. “those were not aphrodisiacs, nein? i cannot keep going much— much longer.” you shake your head, nails clawing at his back and toes curling as he continues to pump you full of his dick. “no, just— stronger than what you’re used to.. ah!” your legs lock around his middle, feet unable to touch behind the large stature of his back. könig starts to shake, hips stuttering and muscles spasming.

“mein gott.” he stutters, balls slapping against the underside of your arse cheeks and he feels an abnormal tingling in said region. he feels alien, almost. “lieb, you’ll have to… mmf- let go now.” he knows he can’t hold back, his cock screaming at him to release his hot cum into your eager uterus. you’re not ready for a family, not yet. but you cling tighter, fingers biting into his skin. “no, baby.” you whisper, broken and choked. “give me a baby. please, könig. y’know you wanna.”

oh god, he’s so close. eyes scrunched up and teeth gritted.

“feels so good, könig. please, please please.” you’re pleading with him and lord knows how much he loves it when you beg for it. he falters, hips snapping wildly into yours. your room is humid, thick with the smell of sex and skin-on-skin. he crumples on top of you, a heap of mass as he breeds you thoroughly. his cum is so warm as it shoots through your cervix, painting your insides and claiming you completely.

you can smell it drooling from you — sweet and rich. you’re still milking him, drenching his cock with your climax as he still rolls against you slowly and clumsily. your hands glide up to stroke his hair and the short ones that grow down his neck — damp and sparse. “jesus.” you breathe, chest heaving and legs trembling. his tired laughter rumbles, vibrating against you. “we mustn’t say a word, meine liebe.” he lifts his head to gaze down at you and you hold his face in your hands, looking up at him quizzically. “about what to who?”

“to our child about how they were conceived.”

ok hear me out...boxer!könig and wwe champ!reader

könig thinks the wwe is beyond stupid. it's fake, performative, and he could beat half of them in a singular punch. BUT wwe!reader comes to one of his matches, fresh out of her own. she sits in the front row with her sparkly makeup, colored hair, and skimpy outfit and könig can't help but show out just for her. and to his suprise she meets him outside his dressing room (after he won obviously) and she gives him a...reward for winning :3 also if you have anons i'd like to be 💌 anon <33

i love this idea, but i changed it slightly so reader was teaching him a lesson rather than rewarding him 🫨🫨 and yes of course !! 💌 :3

(reader is appearance neutral, header is for aesthetic 😖)

dom!reader, hate-fucking, mutual hateful pining, rough sex, cowgirl, degradation. MDNI 18+

könig didn’t notice you until a few rounds in. he’d just knocked his opponent to the canvas when he did, eyes landing on you. he’d seen you on tv, heard about you on the news, seen some of your interviews. you’re humble enough, and inarguably deserving of your triumphs. but, come on. wwe? it’s not real — just a bunch of show ponies and stuntmen throwing each other around. it’s all about the camera angles and over-eccentric dressage that makes it seem as dangerous as it does. put you in a ring with him? you’re mice meat.

he even watched one of your fights. granted he was mostly watching the way your hips and arse looked in those leather booty shorts and fishnet stockings, but it didn’t waver his opinion of the sport. it’s all an act for the audience. he’d sooner compare it to that of pageants and spectacles of the violent kind.

but fuck, you looked good.

black lipstick matched the swooping wings of your eyeliner and adhesive lashes, paired with a cooler shade of eyeshadow to harmonise the accessories and extensions in your styled hair. a smear of blood had rubbed from your nose to your chin, smudging some of the inky paint from your mouth. you must’ve come straight from your own contest. and you were sporting a provocative smirk, staring right at him.

and he went all out just for you, winning by ko not even halfway through the match. if you wanted to watch real fighting, he was gonna show you. the semi-stiffness of his cock the entire time was besides the point.

what he wasn’t expecting, was to open his dressing room door to your presence — sultry and seductive. nothing to do with the fact you were wearing next to nothing. you carried a strong essence; radiating your prestige like an odor.

“you call yourself ‘king’.” you’d remarked, pushing past him through the door. he was still in costume, wearing the hooded mask with cut-out eyes he always did to maintain anonymity and ambiguity. you always found it odd how he hated everything you stood for, but looked the part.

“you think you’re a champion.” he snapped back, glaring lasers into the back of your head.

“i am.” you retorted, mocking his manner as you wandered around the room, sniffing the numerous floral bouquets and inspecting his various trophies. of course he had a rocky poster on the wall. “within my own right.”

“you are not a real fighter.” he belittled, scowling as you invited yourself to look through his things. he was trying his best not to stare at your backside, or the way your cleavage spilled over your corset.

you snorted, liking how the thickening tension tipped the scales in your favour, given your reasoning for stopping by. “i’m not exactly a ballerina either, your majesty.”

“könig.” he corrected.

“exactly.”

then you found yourself pinned atop his dresser, nylon tights torn and leather shorts promptly ripped clean from your curves whilst he fucked you against the mirror. but it didn’t last long. just as he was about to bottom out, you’d wrestled free from his grip and tackled him to the floor — cock still wedged inside of you.

he grunted, not just from the unexpected switch, but the way your cunt swallowed him whole when you sank onto his cock. his hands instinctively flew to your hips, but you snatched them off, stapling them either side of his head. “könig: the masked fighter.” you sneered down at him, bouncing roughly up and down on his fat meat. “all those punches to the face finally took their toll?”

his eyes — the only part of him you could see — darkened at your hateful comment. “are you calling me ugly?” he growled through groans and raspy breaths. you smirked the same way you had back in the crowd, biting your bottom lip with the way your clit kept bumping his hairy base. “no, i’m implying it.”

his fingers tightened around yours, cock throbbing within your tight walls. you knew he could overpower you quite easily, he just didn’t want to. you felt too good. “i’ve always wanted to have you like this.” you confessed, riding him harder. “ever since you patronised me at that press conference.”

his eyes narrowed up at you, pupils dilating to the point that his irises drowned in them.

“but look at you now.” you chuckled, grimly.