Such A Tease - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]
Synopsis: King teases you relentlessly like the smut little shit he is, making you wait until you can’t wait any longer to have him. Tables are turned.
Inspired by a particular tantalizing conversation with @wingsy-keeper-of-songs 😏😏😏😏 thank you for inspiring me to write this one bb
Tagging: @bungeewabbit @booklover2929 @mysticaltimemachinewench @fangirlandnerd @agent221b @deborahlazaroff @underratedcharactersimagines
He had been teasing you for a week now, refusing to even so much as touch you.
The touches he would give were agonizingly brief, so brief he would feel compelled to tell you they were an accident. The other day, meeting the plantation owner you were tricking, his hand found its way to your ass, squeezing while the slaver was watching.
“You alright miss?” he had asked.
“Fine,” you had balked, and King have you a winning smile.
“My apologies, my sweet. My hand must have slipped!” he gave that impish little grin, to which you just narrowed your eyes at your shit of a lover.
At the table tonight, you, Django, and King were enjoying a beer and dinner at a local saloon.
You lift the glass to your lips, and see King’s eyes start to wander down. They ultimately come to rest on your breasts, and your cheeks heat up as you watch him stare. The entire meal is spent like this, King’s eyes always returning to ogle you. The share intensity of his gaze, imagining what he could be thinking or picturing about you, arouses you to the point of discomfort. You had already soaked your underclothes, that much was certain– but it appeared King didn’t much care what he was doing to you.
“May I speak with you for a moment, love?” you ask with a smile, and his eyebrows raise as he places a hand on his chest in surprise. “Yes, you,” you grit out, and get up, dropping your napkin on his lap. He pats his mouth with it, and gets up.
“Excuse me, Django. We may be a while.”
Django huffs a laugh. “Y'all want me to wait for you?”
“No no, my boy– by all means eat, before it gets cold.”
King undoes his top button, adjusts himself so his erection isn’t too noticeable while he’s walking, and strides over to where you’re waiting outside.
The back doors flap behind him, and suddenly, he feels you pull him against the wall, holding him there.
“I know what you’re doing,” you growl, already growing wet at the scent of him so close to you.
“My dear, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he feigns with a dismissive scoff, “If this is about the lack of sexual intercourse, well, we’ve been so busy I haven’t even had time to think about such things!” He chuckles, but you purse your lips.
“Like hell. I saw you staring at my breasts like you wanted to eat them.”
“In there? Oh, I was simply admiring the tablecloth,” he says, waving his hand. You clench your jaw.
“Right now. Right here, I can’t wait any longer.”
“I think we all need to calm down, I’ll apologize properly for my teasing back at the hotel–” You cut him off by placing your hand to his bulge and rubbing between his legs, grasping him and massaging his cock through his pants.
“Enough talking. Start doing.”
“(y/n)… (y/n), Fraulein, not… not here,” he grimaces, his hips betraying him by bucking into your touch.
“But I’m horny,” you pout, “And it’s your fault.”
King’s eyes, hooded with lust, roll back as you begin to unzip him, and your warm hand finds his thick, throbbing member, stroking it slowly with the precum beading at his tip.
“Ah…” he whispers, and groans softly into your hair, “I need to… I need to be inside you, my dear, not… not like this…”
“You want me?” you murmur, stroking him again. He gasps, his hands squeezing your ass. His dick throbs.
“Come and get it,” you grin, clucking your tongue and removing your hand from his pants. King flies into a panic, and he chases you with that scrunched up glare.
“(y/n)! You can’t just–!” He lets out a frustrated noise, removing his jacket and sticking it in front of his crotch as he follows you back inside to the table, stroking his mustache angrily with his other hand. “Django, get your hat, we’re leaving.”
Django pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. “I just got my damn potatoes!”
“And,” Django blinks with attitude, “I wanna eat ‘em.”
“We have to go,” King grits through his teeth, “Now.”
Django scoffs, finally catching on to the doctor’s situation. “I see what y'all are up to. I told you that whole teasing thing was gonna come back to bite you, but fuckin’ hell no, you ain’t gonna listen to the one that ain’t bein’ led by his dick–”
“Django, please,” King hisses, and you wink at him.
“I’ll make you potatoes myself tomorrow. Better potatoes.”
“You’s got yourself a deal,” Django smirks at you, and the three of you hurry back to the local inn you’re staying in for the night.
The minute you get back in to your room, you both realize with horror that somebody’s taken your bed.
“Oh, yeah,” the innkeeper mentions, scratching his head, “I let this poor cow puncher crash in here while you three was gone. Hope y'all don’t mind.”
King puts on a polite smile, doing his best to keep a straight face as you graze his erection with the back of your hand. “N-not a problem. Now eh, would you kindly remove him? Hastily?”
“Well…” the innkeeper shifts awkwardly, “I would, but… he paid a pretty penny for a couple hours of shut-eye. I was thinkin’ you three could come back a little later to stake your claim then?”
King just growls, and takes your hand. Django shrugs, walking into the room, and takes a place on the chair to wait for the cowboy to wake up.
“See what you get when you keep a lady waiting?” you giggle as you two make it outside, “Revenge–”
King silences you by holding you against the back of the inn, covering your mouth with his. You moan into the kiss, grabbing his hair, and rock your hips against his.
“You sure like the backs of buildings better than beds,” you joke, and he huffs, unbuttoning his pants.
“Under these strenuous circumstances, we will make do.”
You tug his hair as he lifts you up, holding you there as he bunches your skirts up. You then help him position, and clench hard as he finally thrusts into your wet heat. Both of you let out a sigh of relief at the feel of one another, but your work’s not done yet. He’s painfully hard inside of you, and you could cry you’re so aroused. Heat burning in your stomach, you grind down to take him deeper, and he braces himself against the wall as he starts to fuck you hard.
“Ugh… unf… oh, K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.
“You… are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect, scheisse… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so good for me…”
“King, take me, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.
“Fuck,” you curse, “I’m so… I’m so wet for you, King, please, I need your cock…”
“You have me, (y/n),” he manages out, eyebrows moving together in pursuit of his sweet climax, “I’m here, you have all of me, always.”
“Ah,” you moan, and come on his cock, clutching his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust, he comes as well, spilling inside you. You both rock together, riding out your orgasms, and when you’re both finished and satisfied, you hop down, helping King do up his buttons and tuck himself back up.
“Naughty old man,” you giggle breathlessly, slapping his shoulder lightly. He chuckles into your hair, kissing the top of your head.
“I don’t know why you were so anxious to jump my bones, my dear,” King mutters playfully, “You know I always follow through with my teasing.”
“Hey! What’re you doin’ at the back of that there inn?!” a voice shouts, and you both turn. King runs a hand through his hair, and squints.
“Aha. You wouldn’t happen to be… Bad Chuck Wilson by any chance, would you?”
The figure swallows. “That’s me… well who wants to know?”
King digs around in his pocket produces a handbill with Chuck’s face on it, and hums happily.
“Mhmm. This bad day turned into quite the fortuitous night,” he smiles, kissing you once more and drawing his pistol.
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