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#— ୨୧ ˖ ˚
ghostly-whiskey · 9 days
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simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.
and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.
bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.
your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.
you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.
again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!
and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:
p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.
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coqvttes · 6 months
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୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝KNOCKED UP❞ ― KENTO N.
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― ꒰ BREEDING ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after getting turned on from seeing you being domestic in the kitchen, your doting husband is definitely not stopping until he's sure you're pregnant !
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, breeding, p in v, petnames, praise, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!kento, fingering, tummy bulge, creampie, teasing, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k (sorry it’s not proofread)
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your doting husband, kento just couldn't help himself when he saw you fussing around in his little kitchen. the enchanting smell of fresh pancakes had stirred him from his sleep in the bedroom, and he wondered what you were up to when he noticed that his wife's spot on the bed was empty. appearing in the doorway of the kitchen in his briefs, he freezes as he sees you prancing around in the kitchen. taking in the sight of you. 
there you are, sporting the linen workshirt he wore yesterday, styled with your cute little apron over it. clearly, you aren't wearing anything underneath the shirt, save for your cute lacy panties that he just loves so much.
he ponders if he should just take you right there. bend you over the worktop push those panties of yours to the side and make love to you like last night. you just look so gorgeous and domestic like this, waking up early just to change into HIS clothes to cook him HIS breakfast in HIS kitchen. how can he resist the temptation? god, sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose just to rile him up. and it works. 
"good morning, kento," the sound of your sweet voice forced him out of his perverted thoughts and his eyes met with your gentle ones. you were holding a delicate plate of freshly made pancakes, just for him with that sweet smile on your face. warmth filled his heart as he looked at you with adoration and lust. 
"g'morning, darling," he says in that sexy morning voice of his. your mouth almost waters at the sight of him. hair tousled, shirtless and a tired smirk on his handsome face. he notices the way you stare at him and he doesn't know how it happened but he's approaching you, pulling you in by the waist for a sweet kiss, sealed with passion and devotion. 
"you look too good in that shirt and cute little apron of yours," he groans, hands slipping down your hips to grab onto your arse. you squeal as he unexpectedly lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your palms flat against his chest. 
"w-what about breakfast?" he chuckles at your concern and grins. 
"who needs breakfast when i have you, hm?" he chuckles, carrying you back into the bedroom, you giggle as he plops you down on the bed, climbing over you. his fingers play with the strands of your hair before he speaks.
"god, you're so perfect in my shirt. so pretty for me, hm? all mine, aren't you?" his fingers slide under the shirt as he kisses you, caressing you tenderly before moving up further to grope your tits. he smiles into your lips as he feels how hard your nipples are for him, pinching and tugging at them gently, eliciting a choked whine from your throat.
"all yours, kento," your voice is breathy, so desperate for his touch. he skillfully unbuttons the shirt and peels it off of you, letting the cool air blow over your now bare torso. your fingers tangle in his blonde locks as he envelops your nipple in his warm mouth. you mewl softly from the stimulation whilst he gazes at you through his eyelashes, you look so heavenly like this. 
releasing your wet nipple he moves lower down your body. as he spreads your legs, exposing the wet stain on your panties, he chuckles. he ducks down and presses his lips against your clothed cunt. his pointer finger slips under the lace, pulling it down your legs, revealing your needy cunt.
"fuck, darling, let me put a baby into you, hm? make you mine forever? would you like that?" he asks, his slender fingers, slipping into your hole slowly. you nod profusely, choking on your words as he stuffs you full with his digits. sliding them in and out of you slowly, he curls his fingers to tease that sweet spot inside of you that makes your walls clench around him.
"use your words, sweetheart." 
"yes, yes! wan' your babies, kento. wan' it so bad. wan' to be yours forever-!" you babble mindlessly, completely unaware of how much your words are affecting him right now. the thought of having kids with you and how much you want it too, makes his dick so hard. his heart is beating fast as the phrases truly sink into his mind.
with that, he withdraws his now slick-covered fingers, before lowering his head down, capturing your plump lips with his. your hand moves down between your bodies to palm his bulge through his briefs. he pulls away from your lips and groans with how painfully hard he is and he tugs his briefs off, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. 
your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. he pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. you mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 
your thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 
he picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.
his eyes are fixed on the way your cunt keeps sucking him in, the way you can see his bulge in your tummy and the way you look at him with those adoring doe eyes. he dips his head down to seize your lips in a kiss.
the kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"k-kento!" 
he dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. your cunt pulsing around his cock. your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.
“that feel good, darling?” the rumble of his voice against your ear makes you shiver slightly. 
"can't wait to see your tummy swollen with my babies in you, you'll look so gorgeous."
“mmm—!” moans and whines bubble up in your throat as a response to his teasing words. the thought of having his children makes your mind go fuzzy and your heart swell. you want it more than anything. 
“i love you, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. his husky voice, how close his lips are, the lust evident in his gaze, it all makes your mind go fuzzy. 
"i love you, kento! love you s'much!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. he lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 
"mmm, can't wait for you to get pregnant, sweetheart," he confesses, pulling you into his arms as he lays down on the mattress.
“i think the pancakes are cold,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him through your lashes and he chuckles down at you.
"that's alright, darling... i've already had my meal, haven't i?"
oh yes, he has...
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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dollria · 6 months
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RiA CAN'T STOP THINKIN BOUT. . .
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ BIG!CHOSO WITH A BIIIG!COCK
꒰ CONTENT — ! ꒱ p in v sex、size kiiink [?]、missionary、choso is gentlee、belly bulging、clit rubbing、he cums on ur stomach、breeding mentioned?、choso [and his cock] are soo big like omg. . .
꒰ WORDCOUNT — ! ꒱ 906
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choso is very self aware of his own strength and size— not only feeling like, but knowing you'd break if he handled you like anything less fragile than a porcelain doll.
but no matter how slow or gentle he was with you— he never fails to knock the wind straight out of your lungs when he sinks in, drawing the sweetest whines from your pouty lips.
and that's about all you’re able to do when you're being stuffed full of his absolutely heavy cock— just whine. whine to him about how "'s so big. ." and how he's "so deep. ." when he's not even all the way in yet.
sniffling softly as you claw and paw at his biceps— clinging onto the flexing muscles as they hold your shaky thighs apart, your knuckles turning pale from how hard you were squeezing him— with both your hands and your pussy.
"shh," he soothes, bringing one huge palm down to your belly, gently pressing down on the bulge his cock was creating, "i know baby, 'm sorry. ."
"try keeping your legs open, princess," he rasps when he sees you struggling to do so without him holding onto both of them. he smiles gently when he sees you trying so hard to open your legs for him, letting him be even closer, reach even deeper.
the sheer power behind his slow thrusts had you pressed into the mattress— your tits bouncing and the flesh of your thighs rippling when they were being smacked by his pelvis.
"good girl. ."
his eyes leave your face for just a minute, he just really couldn’t help it. not when your pussy looked so cute— sucking him in, lips clinging to his fat shaft and refusing to let go when he bottoms out, never failing to cave back in each time he thrusts back into you.
"d-don't stop, chosoo. ."
and he never does— he never stops filling out the emptiness in your cunt, stretching you out, stuffing you full, massaging your inner walls and prodding at your innermost parts with his bulbous tip.
it had your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast. . .
you gawk in disbelief at the fat bulge that his cock would leave behind in your lower tummy, bulging it out right where the heat just kept pooling and pooling—
"chosoo. . 's so deep choso. . !" you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as your head flops back against the sheets.
"i know, baby. . i know." he cooes, before giving your hand yet another affectionate squeeze, the movements of his hips never faltering, "takin' me so— shit. . so well."
it was all so much— so dizzying, each stroke of his fat shaft had your mouth struggling to stay shut and the knot in your abdomen tightening, threatening to burst.
you hit and grab at his shoulders, legs spasming and wrapping around his waist. your heels digging into the dimples on his lower back in a pathetic attempt to draw him even closer—
your pussy was telling him the exact same thing, sucking him in, fluttering and squeezing around his dick as he bullies it into you.
he tries not to— but it’s really nothing short of bullying how he splits you open on his cock, no matter how gentle he may try to be.
"m-more, choso. ! think 'm gonna cum. . !"
you just keep on babbling, losing yourself in the mind numbing feeling of his cock inside you— thrusting steadily, the rhythmic smacking of his hips and the squelching of your slick playing on the background of your lewd moans and his heavy breaths.
the hand resting on your belly bulge slips slower, coming to rub circles over your clit— you whimper and your back arches, the tight grip your cunt had on him making choso grunt.
"s-shit pretty if y'keep squeezin' me like that—" he huffs, interrupting himself with a low groan— he was almost losing his mind as much as you were.
your arms wrap around his neck, his waist entangled by your legs and you cling to him tighter and tighter, moaning more and more incoherently sounding babbles into his ear as he slams his hips into you.
he keeps pounding and pounding— his thrusts turning sloppy as he mutters praises and grunts into your ear— and then you finally cum. squeezing and milking his cock dry of everything he has with a series of sweet moans and sobs—
it takes choso everything he has, every little bit of restraint not to just breed your little pussy full of his cum— his poor balls are so full n’ heavy, it’s a shame he doesn’t get to pump you full of everything he can give— truly a shame.
"f-fuck angel. ."
he pulls out, biting back a soft whimper as he grabs ahold of his cock, the other hand soothing your waist, cupping your ribs, right under your breast as he grunts and huffs, stroking his length as he takes in the sight of you beneath him— post orgasmic aftershocks surging through you as your chest heaves up and down, eyes hooded and glazed over.
it doesn’t take much for him to cum to that, spilling his seed over you in thick white ropes, painting creamy white streaks on your tummy with a long groan of your name.
"ch-choso—" you try to say, but he interrupts you, his lips next to your ear, warm breath hitting the shell of it as he whispers,
"can we go again baby? p-please?"
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© 2023 DOLLRIA. all rights reserved
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.
୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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you have thirty days to get married.
being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.
if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 
you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 
except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.
you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.
satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 
especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 
how ridiculous is that? 
and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 
it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 
alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.
all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).
suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 
if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.
you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 
the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.
perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?
why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?
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your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 
“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 
before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 
except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 
you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 
“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 
he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 
satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 
kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 
there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 
instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 
but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !
juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 
“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 
he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 
you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 
“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 
the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 
“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 
the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 
shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.
your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 
he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 
“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 
he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.
but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 
you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 
dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.
“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 
“f-fuck you.”
“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.
his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 
“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 
nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“
you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 
the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 
like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 
with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 
yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 
“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 
satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”
“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“
you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.
but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 
he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 
“sato—!”
“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”
that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.
shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 
you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.
“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 
thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 
he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 
you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 
“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”
the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 
your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 
he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 
it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.
“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”
the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 
the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.
lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 
your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.
“so about—“
“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 
for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 
he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—
“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”
“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”
“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”
throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 
“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 
you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 
the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 
but the entire time, you never look back. 
you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 
the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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audisive · 22 days
Text
♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.
tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold
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       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.
It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).
The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.
Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.
There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–
"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.
You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.
"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.
You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."
"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.
"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.
"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.
"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"
Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.
Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.
Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.
(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)
Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."
"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.
"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.
"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."
There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."
"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."
The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.
On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.
He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.
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justacutiegirl · 5 months
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just a girl ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
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strawchocoberry · 7 months
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‘CAUSE GIRL, YOU EARNED IT
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୨୧ featuring: zhongli, alhaitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, tartaglia x fem reader 
ଘ cw: smut, gangbang, intoxication kink, spanking, edging, pet names, oral sex, nipple play, handcuffs, fingering, choking, praise kink, degradation kink, rough sex, double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breeding kink, creampie, dumbification
୨୧ synopsis: guilty of negligence 
ଘ wc: 4.4k
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It was a peaceful night, rain was falling outside, lullying nature into serene sleep. And here you are, fixing your lingerie that was practically nothing more than decoration on yourself. A bit of lipstick and you were done. You took a look at yourself in the mirror, pleased with how utterly gorgeous you looked. You couldn’t wait. It had been so long since you last saw him that you were ready to devour every piece of him the moment he stepped inside your house. You counted the seconds, trying to calm your excited heart, but it was in vain. Before the sound of your doorbell could even fathom to fully reach your ears, you were running to the door, putting on your silk robe to avoid becoming a spectacle for any potential passer-by. 
Five pairs of eyes were looking at you and you could only stand there and stare at them with widened, shocked eyes. They were equally if not more confused than you were. And it finally dawned on you; you had accidentally arranged to meet all of them on the same day, at the same time. Your mouth opened and closed, as you found no words to explain the situation to them. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You stepped aside, letting them come inside to the warmth of your house, feeling bad for letting them spend a few more minutes at the cold of your porch. 
They settled in your living room, averting their curious gazes back at you. You felt your cheeks blushing by this predicament you had bestowed upon yourself over your own carelessness. Their intense gazes that travelled upon your body, taking in every little detail like starved men, had you wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly being too self-aware of the few garments you were wearing. 
“I-I’ll bring you some h-hot beverages to warm y-yourselves,” you suggested, making haste into the kitchen. 
And as you were panicking, trying to think of ways to deal with the situation at hand, the gentlemen in your living room became acquainted with those they weren’t. Zhongli, Wangsheng Funeral Parlour’s Consultant. Alhaitham, Sumeru’s Akademiya’s Scribe. Neuvillette, Fontaine’s Chief Justice. Wriothesley, Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. Tartaglia, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. They didn’t really seem to mind your stalling in the kitchen. On the contrary, the five of them started talking amongst themselves, starting with Neuvillette, who was clearly surprised to meet Tartaglia once more. 
You couldn’t make up what they were talking about, but you could hear their lively chatter. Of course, none of them was mad or angered by the others’ presence. You were just good friends with all of them; good friends that occasionally fucked each other, but that’s just your way to keep your friendship interesting. They were, however, caught off guard by the rest, as were you, yet they seemed to have moved past it. 
You didn’t know what to do. How were you supposed to send them home when they had cleared their schedules for the night just to meet you? I’m so stupid! You mentally cursed at yourself, as you started preparing some tea. Getting them to leave was already a nearly impossible task, let alone now that they seemed to be getting along. You dreaded the thought of going back there. You dreaded the thought of having to explain how all of them showing up at your door tonight was an accident, a careless mistake you made and failed to realise till they had all arrived. 
As the tea was being prepared, you went through your cupboards, taking out various snacks to go along with the tea. You were almost moving like a robot that needed its joints to be greased. You could even hear the faint sound of screeching each move of yours made. It’s going to be alright, you attempted to calm yourself down. They’ll just have some tea and then they’ll leave… Or at least that’s what you wanted to happen. I won’t have to explain how I messed up our meeting schedule tonight… Wishful thoughts that barely managed to help you. 
Soon enough, you returned to the living room, bringing them the tea and snacks. To say that you felt as awkward as one could feel at the moment was an understatement. And yet, the men in your presence paid no attention to it, as they helped themselves with a cup of tea, continuing their conversation. You were just sitting on an armchair, watching them converse as if they had been called to a tea party from the start, not that silly little you had by accident invited them all over. 
“And here I was thinking that this was all just a mistake on your part,” you heard Alhaitham say a little louder in order to catch your attention. 
Pulled out of your thoughts, you turned to look at him, tilting your head in confusion as to what he meant. You noticed his heavier breathing, the way he seemed as if his body was on fire. He appeared calm, but oh that boner of his told another story. A quick look around and you saw the rest of them being in a similar state. Your eyes fell on the chocolate bites among the other snacks. Fuck— 
“Come here.” 
You took a moment to look at Neuvillette. Even in this state of arousal, he spoke in that authoritative voice of his, the one he always uses when commanding order in the courtroom. You gulped and hesitantly walked towards him. With a swift move of his, you found yourself sitting on his lap, the Chief Justice already untying your robe. 
“We all got the impression that perhaps this was just a… Misunderstanding.” He caressed your cheek, looking at you fondly, despite the serious tone of his voice. “Did you perhaps plan this in advance? Bringing us here, then giving us chocolate laced with an aphrodisiac?” 
“Should I perhaps arrest you now, little kitten?” Wriothesley whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe right after. 
“I suggest she receives punishment for her criminal actions.” Tartaglia was now standing in front of you, smirking, as he held a piece of chocolate to your lips. 
“B-But I-I didn’t do it on purpose—” 
“Negligence is still a crime, love.” Neuvillette kissed your cheek. “And even if we were to believe your claims, the evidence works against you.” His hand slipped down your open robe, rubbing your folds. “Wearing such revealing lingerie and getting wet at the mere sight of us being aroused… Tsk tsk tsk.” He shook his head. “You’re as guilty as you can be, love.” 
Tartaglia slipped the chocolate into your mouth, looking at you as you munched on it and swallowed it. He smirked, caressing your chin softly, before crushing his lips on yours, kissing you impatiently, hungrily, desperately. Alhaitham and Zhongli approached you as well, ridding you of the only garments you were wearing, leaving you completely naked under their ravenous gazes. They were trying their best to keep themselves in control and not rip you apart; their eyes betrayed it. 
It didn’t take long for the aphrodisiac to kick in your system nor for the carnal desire to overtake your body. You were lying on Neuvillette’s chest, squirming and moaning and meowing, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His left hand was holding your arms behind your back, whilst his right one was tending to your clit, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud with utmost expertise. Wriothesley was kneeling in-between your legs, holding them open with his strong arms, as he feasted upon your delectable cunt, tasting your arousal and letting out low growls. 
On your left side was Zhongli and on your right was Alhaitham. They were leaving kisses all over your exposed body, massaging your breasts with one hand and pressing you down with the other. Their mouths were tending to your nipples, sucking on them as they watched you writhe in pleasure by all those men paying attention to you. Tartaglia emerged from behind the couch, caressing your cheek and averting your gaze to him. Leaning down, he buried himself in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking and biting you all over. Your body arched at their touch, your moans only urging them further. 
Wriothesley let out a guttural growl, licking every drop of your arousal. He could barely keep your spasming body still, as you moaned out in pure ecstasy from your orgasm. All of them smirked, feeling you convulsing, looking like you’ve just entered heaven. Neuvillette slapped your cunt, earning a whimpering moan from you. 
“Did you like it that much, love?” Neuvillette asked you. 
“Of course she did, right, kitten?” Wriothesley smirked, licking over your cunt. 
“Her moans confirm that, don’t they, dear?” Zhongli kissed your neck. 
“Oh, poor baby, you aren’t tired yet, hm?” Alhaitham cooed in your neck, gently biting down over one of Tartaglia’s bites. 
“Oh no, no! We can’t have you getting tired so early, darling.” Tartaglia kissed your lips. “The fun’s just starting.”
You were lost in your sweet haze for a moment, watching them change their positions. Neuvillette pushed himself up, sitting now on the couch, rather than lying. Alhaitham caught your hands and pulled you forward. Your bare cunt was sitting oh so perfectly on the Chief Justice’s clothed crotch, making him let out a low moan, as your arousal was drenching him. You hissed, looking down at Wriothesley who bit your tit, folding tightly the other in his fist. Alhaitham caught your chin, averting your attention back to the three men standing before you. 
You watched them get undressed, their cocks springing free from the constraints of their pants, hard and desperate for attention. Tartaglia and Zhongli took your hands, placing them on their shafts, moving them along their lengths, before allowing you to continue on your own. Alhaitham stroked his cock, bringing it to your lips. He smirked as you obediently opened your mouth and took him in, your lips wrapping perfectly around his girth, a low groan leaving his lips. 
“That’s it, baby,” Alhaitham moaned, his head falling back. 
“So desperate,” Tartaglia mocked, watching how you eagerly moved your head up and down, taking as much of the Scribe’s cock in your mouth as you could. The Harbinger let out a moanful groan the next moment, as you stroked his cock and used your thumb to smear the tip with his cum. 
“If you wished for all of us, dear, you should have said so sooner,” Zhongli breathed, catching your hair in a nice ponytail. 
The three of them took turns having you please them with either your skilled hands or your warm mouth. First was Alhaitham, who let you suck him off at your own pace, relishing the cute gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him. He mumbled a couple curses under his breath, while he kept telling you how good you looked with his cock in your mouth, how good you made him feel. His whole body tensed, his grip on his waist tightened, as he let out a moan, cumming in your mouth. 
“Good girl,” Alhaitham praised, kissing your lips tenderly, before standing up. 
Zhongli was the one to occupy your mouth next. Even after all the times you’ve had sex with him, your mouth was still not accustomed enough with his girthy cock. You choked on his shaft, tears welling up and falling from your eyes in streams. The former Geo Archon cupped your cheek gently, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He looked at you affectionately, encouraging you to take your time. He groaned and grunted, feeling your tongue swirl over and over again over that one specific vein, having him lose his mind and coming undone. 
“Perfect as always, dear,” Zhongli whispered in your ear. 
And last but definitely not least, it was Tartaglia’s turn. You braced yourself, knowing him all too well to be certain that he wasn’t going to be as gentle as the two before him. He allowed you a moment to tend to him on your own, before kneading your hair in a ponytail and forcing you on him, his cock hitting the back of your throat. New tears welled up in your eyes. You looked up at him, noticing how big his smirk grew, as he continued fucking your mouth. 
“You’re such a pretty little whore, darling,” Tartaglia moaned. 
Your body jolted at the sudden smack that Neuvillette landed on your ass, gently caressing the spot right after. Wriothesley spanked you as well, making you moan on Tartaglia’s cock that was ruthlessly thrusting into your mouth. Neuvillette held your body in place, his grip almost bruisingly tight, whilst he grinded his hips against your drenched cunt, earning more muffled moans from you. 
“Look at you being all blushed, love,” Neuvillette cooed in your ear, landing another hard smack on your reddened by now ass. 
“I bet you’re feeling lonely down here.” Wriothesley smirked at you, raising his head from your titties, his hand slipping down and rubbing your folds in-between your bare cunt and Neuvillette’s clothed crotch. 
“Oh fuck—” Tartaglia reached his limit, unleashing his hot seed in your mouth, as his head fell back. He kept your head in place, his cock still deeply buried in your throat, until you had swallowed everything. 
Pulling out, he left you gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly in your attempt to regulate your stolen breath. Tartaglia caught your chin and pulled you to your feet, crushing his lips on yours. Wriothesley came behind you, biting your nape and smirking as you moaned. He grabbed your hands and handcuffed them behind your back. He smacked your ass once more, then undressed and assumed a seat next to Neuvillette who had also discarded his clothes. You felt Alhaitham’s arms wrapping around your body from behind, him leaving marks all over your shoulder and nape. 
Alhaitham caught your hair and pulled you away from Tartaglia, biting your earlobe as you whined. He turned you to face the Fontainian duo, bending you over. Neuvillette and Wrothesley slapped their hardened cocks on your cheeks, looking at you with the authority you’d expect stemming from their positions as Chief Justice and Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. You choked back a scream, feeling Alhaitham suddenly penetrating you from behind. You turned over your shoulder to look at him for just a moment, only for Wriothesley to grab your chin and avert your attention back to them. 
“Get to work, kitten,” he barked, his sharp canines visible through his smirk. 
“Or are you perchance planning on leaving us in this torturous state?” Neuvillette asked you, the straining of his hard cock evident on his face. 
And whilst the Scribe was obliterating your cunt, Tartaglia and Zhongli were stroking themselves, looking at you getting fucked before them like the little slut you were. They landed a few slaps on your ass and grabbed your titties harshly, while you started tending to Neuvillette, licking up a few strides on his shaft. Your tongue swirled around the tip of his thick cock, sucking it in your mouth. His eyes closed for a moment, revering in the sensation of you slowly taking all of him in your mouth. You gagged, trying to accommodate him in your tight throat. But Neuvillette was already long lost in pure ecstasy, head thrown back and breathy whimpers escaping his lips. 
You whined as you felt Alhaitham pull out of your cunt, your muffled sound sending vibrations on his cock. You were so close to feeling that euphoric rush course through your veins, only for him to deny it. You attempted to release Neuvillette and complain about Alhaitham’s unacceptable behaviour, only for Wriothesley to force your head down, tears falling from your eyes, as his action caused Neuvillette to sharply hit the back of your throat. 
“Don’t stop now, kitten. Don’t tease him like that, not when he’s so close to cumming.” Wriothesley gently rocked your head, helping you ease up and continue your work. “You never know. He might even accuse you of disrespecting him. And oh my, it’s a serious crime to disrespect the Chief Justice. Once sentenced, you’ll be sent to the Fortress of Meropide.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, kitten.” 
“Don’t— Don’t speak nonsense, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette breathed heavily. 
Alhaitham only smirked, seeing you at Wriothesley’s mercy. He slapped your dripping cunt once, licking your arousal off his fingertips, while his ears feasted on your muffled moans. Tartaglia leant over your bent form, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder, as his fingers rubbed your drenched folds, laughing devilishly at the slight trembling of your legs. He slipped his fingers inside your tight cunt, thrusting them roughly. He relished the image of your convulsing body, your cunt coating his fingers with your slick. And yet he sadistically stopped right before your impending release.  
Tartaglia removed his fingers momentarily, before burying his cock in your velvet walls. He held onto your waist, slamming your hips on him, moaning in pleasure as he ripped your body in half. Neuvillette tensed in your mouth, painting every inch of your throat with his sweet cum. He caressed your hair softly, smiling lovingly at you, his eyes glued to your tear-stained face with his cock still in your mouth. Wriothesley finally let go of your head, allowing you to pull back and catch your breath. 
“Are you having fun, kitten?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek. 
“Mmmm…” You nodded. “T-This is… So much better than I could… Ever imagine…” You smiled. “Ah, wait— No!” you whined. “Tartaglia, please—” you cried. 
So close, yet so far away. The Harbinger pulled out of your drenched folds, leaving you just as unsatisfied as Alhaitham had. Your body was burning with a carnal urge for release, yet they didn’t seem to be willing to give it to you. You watched Zhongli lean over you, massaging your breasts and kissing a tear away from your cheek. 
“Zhongli… Please…” you begged him. 
He refrained from replying to you. Zhongli rubbed the tip of his cock on your soaked folds, coating it in your slick, before thrusting into your cunt that immediately tightened around him, desperate to reach that sweet high. Contrary to the other two, the Geo Archon switched to a slower pace, even though his thrusts remained as rock solid hard as ever. The room was filled with your slutty moans, as well as the sounds of Zhongli forcefully smashing his hips on yours, abusing and stretching your cunt in a way that sent you over to cloud nine. 
Wriothesley grabbed your chin, turning you to face him. He slipped his thumb in your mouth, watching you suck on it ever so willingly. “Stick your tongue out,” he ordered and you obeyed without a second thought, feeling too fucked out to raise any objections. He slapped his hardened cock on your tongue a few times, before sliding it all in. He grabbed your hair and guided your movements, growling in utter bliss at the magic of your tongue. He was struggling not to thrust up. You knew, because his grip on your hair only tightened. Ultimately, though, Wriothesley grew too desperate for release, pounding up straight to your throat, feeling you gag around him, before he unleashed his seed in your mouth. 
You thought that this time, this time for sure, you were going to experience that blissful feeling that had your mind go blank. You had only yourself to blame for getting your hopes high, as you were disappointed by Zhongli pulling out of you when your orgasm was just around the corner. You were whining and complaining and they were all just watching you amused, barely able to keep themselves from destroying you. 
Zhongli lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the armchair you were previously sitting on. He sat down with you on his lap. He kissed your lips, holding your head in place, feeling you shift on his lap. Alhaitham had come, standing behind you, holding one of your legs open, Zhongli holding the other. The Scribe’s fingers thrusted into your drenched cunt, the squelching sounds filling the room. The other three watched you intently squirm and convulse over the Geo Archon’s body, as your much awaited orgasm was here at last. 
Alhaitham wrapped his hand on your neck, turning you to him, as he leant down to lazily kiss your lips. Zhongli aligned his cock with your cunt and thrusted in. You suddenly broke the kiss, whimpering, seeing Tartaglia penetrate your cunt as well, rubbing against Zhongli. You were struggling to accommodate them both in your tight cunt, whimpering and crying and writhing all over Zhongli’s body. Alhaitham kissed you again, running his fingers soothingly along your trembling body. Your mind was slowly fucked out, every single thought fading in the abyss, but from the single one focusing on the two of them pounding into you. 
“Mmmm… Yes! Yes!” you moaned. “Oh, fuck!” 
“What a naughty little girlie~” Tartaglia cooed, smirking. 
Neuvillette and Wriothesley were standing on either side of you, stroking their cocks, massaging or slapping your titties from time to time and rubbing your clit, earning some high pitched moans and screams from you. 
“Please, don’t stop!” you begged, once more on the edge of another release. “Oh Archons, please, don’t stop!” 
And you were so thankful that they didn’t. Your cunt tightened around them, convulsing around their throbbing cocks, your slick coating them. They soon followed after you, cumming into your velvet walls, your mixed arousals dripping down your thighs. Mere seconds later, your body was covered in the cum of the other three men, painting over the marks they had already left all over you. 
They all took a moment to just glance and be mesmerised and bewitched by your beauty. Your makeup was ruined, yet you looked just as breathtakingly pretty as ever. Your lipstick was smudged and there were lipstick stains in every part your lips had touched on their bodies. Your hair was dishevelled and drenched in sweat, just like your body. And oh fuck… The sight of your cunt clenching around Tartaglia’s and Zhongli’s cocks, stuffed to the brim with cum that slipped out and down your thighs was enough to get them all hard all over again. 
Tartaglia slowly pulled out, strings of cum glistening on his cock, whilst Zhongli remained deeply sheathed in your cunt. You were resting your head on his shoulder, watching them drunk-dazed change positions. Neuvillette positioned himself in-between your legs, which were held open by Wriothesley and Alhaitham. Tartaglia was standing behind you, choking your neck and sliding two of his fingers into your mouth, as he nibbled down your earlobe. Your head pressed hard against Zhongli’s shoulder, your back arching, as Neuvillette dived into your sensitive cunt as carefully as ever. 
Tartaglia was choking back your moans, your eyes glued to the man in front of you whose cock was drilling into you, ripping you in half. Neuvillette leant over you, kissing your lips, as both he and Zhongli continued fucking your slutty hole that creamed harder and harder all over them. There was not a single thought in your mind. You were a bubbling little mess, moaning and whimpering and begging “mmm, more, more!” and crying “oh fuck, it feels so good”. They were all looking at you, smirking at the little whore you were for them. And oh they adored it. 
Your moans and whimpers and pleads and cries stirred something within the two men who were quite literally fucking you dumb. You screamed in pure bliss, Zhongli and Neuvillette pounding now into you as if their lives depended on it; as if the harder they thrusted, the longer their satisfaction would be prolonged. If they were honest, you just drove them mad, sending them over the edge of insanity with those sounds you made, forcing them to make haste into chasing after the euphoric feeling of cumming into those perfect, pulsating walls of yours. Your lips parted to moan thank yous, as the two of them poured their seed deep in your cunt. 
This time, you were not allowed not even a second of respite. Neuvillette carefully picked you up from Zhongli’s lap. He was holding you tenderly in his arms, contrary to the desperate lust that gleamed in his eyes. Your body jolted, feeling Wriothesley’s soft lips kiss the nape of your neck. He took your handcuffs off, caressing your arms and peppering your shoulder with kisses. Neuvillette took your hands and wrapped them around his neck, his hands travelling down to your waist.
“Hold on tightly, love.” 
Before you could even understand what he meant, you yelped surprised, as Neuvillette and Wriothesley lifted you in their arms. Your grip around his neck tightened, making him chuckle. You felt them both slowly penetrating your cunt, a low whimper escaping your lips, as your walls engulfed them in a tight hug. 
“Even after being fucked all these times, your cunt is still greedy for more.” Wriothesley bit your neck. “What a little whore you are, my kitten.” 
“Mmmm~” you meowed, unable to form a single sentence. 
They ravaged your cunt, spilling out all the cum that had been stuffed in it. Their grips on your body were bruisingly tight, coming in complete contrast with the softness of their lips that burnt you fiercely wherever they touched. Wriothesley was biting all over your neck, sadistically wanting to draw out those gorgeous screams of yours that were music to his ears, making him harder and harder. 
“You’re doing so well, love,” Neuvillette praised with that moaning voice of his. “Taking us both so well… Such a good girl…”
“Mmmm, yeah…” Wriothesley agreed. “Such a good slut…”
You were lost between Neuvillette’s praises and Wriothesley’s degradation. You caught a glimpse of the other three men who were watching you with utmost concentration, the three of you having captured their full attention, them jerking themselves off at the show you provided. Wriothesley choked your neck, turning you to look at Neuvillette, who crushed his lips on yours. You were tightening and pulsing around them, urging them to obliterate your greedy little cunt like never before. And you had no objection to that. 
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© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
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stargirlrchive · 3 months
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soap
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lovaesworld · 21 days
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you were nanami’s favorite cam girl. he loved the view of your eyes rolling back when stuffing your cunt with a dildo that made you squirt all over your camera. that pretty two toned that. he was fucking addicted to you. jerking off constantly to your streams, your voice made his dick hard when you praised him for sending you unnecessary amounts of money which made you notice your favorite watcher.
nanami thought he was in heaven when you asked him if he would like a private show just for him. you gripped your breast rolling your buds between your finger. nanami can just imagine his cock wedged between your large tits making him bite down on his lip as he stroked his sensitive cock, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his pink tip.
“f-fuck, keep going!” he’s whimpering like a little slut. his strokes becoming sloppy making his face start to heat up cursing under his breath. when you spread your legs open revealing that wet clit he loved so, so much stroking himself faster. “i’m all yours, pretty boy.” your sweet voice praising him is the last thing he expected to hear from you. cum ropes shooting out of him covering his computer screen.
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balletfilmss · 4 months
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LOVERS LAKE
✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!
✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him
✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈
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the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.
that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.
that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.
between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?
so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.
you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.
was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.
pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.
and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.
the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.
“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.
“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.
“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.
you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.
“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.
look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.
“oh my gods, i am going to die.”
you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.
“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.
“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.
“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”
the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.
“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.
“wha- no. no no no no!”
luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.
“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.
there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.
“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.
“hey.”
between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.
this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.
“hey. hey. hey.”
he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.
“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.
once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.
he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.
“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”
feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.
immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.
when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.
“am i forgiven now?”
he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.
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dio7r · 3 months
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fakeuwus · 4 months
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SITUATIONSHIP TEXTS W/ SUNGHOON
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genre: situationship!sunghoon x yn (femreader), college au if u squint, crack (im not funny)
warnings: cursing, one suggestive text, hoonie is downbad, ignore read receipts
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MESSAGE FROM NIC: realized i havent written anything yet for hoon so here's a little smth! hope yall enjoyed and happy new year!! <3
© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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coqvttes · 6 months
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୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DON'T BE GENTLE❞ ― KÖNIG.
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― ꒰ SIZE KINK ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after begging your gentle giant of a lover, könig to go rough on you, he lets loose tonight and shows you just how strong he really is...
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, manhandling, size kink, p in v, petnames, degradation, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!könig, creampie, teasing, hairpulling, dacryphilia?, roughness, spanking, slapping, aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k
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your jaw hangs open and your glossy eyes are practically rolling back into your head as he pounds into your sopping cunt mercilessly. plump tits bouncing freely with every harsh thrust of his, causing your thoughts to grow hazy and dumb. his large, rough palms are stretched out on both sides of you, his rough fingers digging into the mattress, keeping you caged beneath his much larger frame.
you try your best to focus on his burly figure above you, but you keep whining as your little cunt struggles to take all of him in. your eyes become squeezed shut, your head turning to the side as you grow lost in the overwhelming pleasure, but you're alerted by the sudden light slap on your cheek. you gasp at the contact and more tears spill from your eyes.
"wan' you to ruin me, könig! don't want you to be gentle", you had pleaded fluttering your lashes at him innocently. and that's how you end up like this. tiny body pinned down on his king-sized bed as he forces his massive dick inside of your needy little cunt. all your little brain can manage to think about is how big he is.
gosh, you've never felt so full with how he's meanly bullying his cock into your drooling cunt with no remorse whatsoever. your shaky little hands gripping onto his huge bulging biceps with so much strength that if were he another man, it would hurt — but no, he's könig of course.
your mind is void of coherent thoughts as all you can manage to do is moan delightedly, accepting all that he gives you. with his strong arms he moves both of your legs up to rest on his shoulders. a high-pitched pornographic moan slips from your lips as you get used to the new angle.
his thick cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you, encouraging hot tears to roll down your cheeks. your fingers slide up his toned abdomen, needing to feel anything and everything that's his. he takes in the sight of you beneath him and he almost feels bad for being so rough with you, but he keeps his composure.
with the lewd medley of the headboard banging into the wall, wet squelching, your sweet moans, and obscene skin-on-skin slapping noises, the sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom are purely sinful. creating a tune that he doesn't ever want to forget, and neither do you.
your watery innocent eyes plead with his own as if begging him to slow down. but no, the last thing you want him to do right now is slow down. shaky hands reach up to his broad shoulders, trying to hold onto him for purchase and your lips part as you try and push yourself up in a frantic attempt to kiss him.
your body desperately yearning for his gentle touch in contrast to his brutal movements. you're relieved he begins to lean down, his lips merely inches away from your own, but he doesn’t kiss you. you let out a pitiful whine and he almost laughs at you with how pathetic you’re being.
in a single moment, with little effort, he cruelly pulls out of your warmth, flipping you over onto your tummy. you squeal at how easy it is for him to manhandle you around into different positions that suit his liking. you hate to admit that his strength alone turns you on so much. before you can complain to him, he’s pushing into you again, picking up on the brutal pace as if nothing had happened.
"du bettelst immer darum, gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr, kleine schlampe?" he snarls, snapping his hips against yours. (always begging to get fucked aren't you, little slut)
pathetic moans and cries spill from your lips into the sheets as he pounds into you mercilessly, his calloused palms gripping onto your hips so tight you’ll probably have bruises in the morning.
"du magst es, wenn ich dich eine schlampe nenne hm, dirty girl?" his rough movements are relentless as he makes no effort to slow down. (you like it when i call you a slut hm, dirty girl)
your mewls are muffled by the bed and he's having none of it. he raises his hand slightly before bringing it back down, spanking you. you lunge forward from the sensation. he then pulls your head up from the mattress by your hair, but not too hard, he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“say it.” he punctuates each of his words with a harsh thrust.
“y-yes! i love it—mmm!” you blubber out desperately, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you for dear life. he lets go of your hair and you can practically hear his satisfied smirk as his thrusts grow stronger, deeper and faster, rutting into you like an animal. you take it like a good girl, his good girl as if you were made for him. 
he applies just enough pressure with his palm pressing down on your lower back that makes you arch just perfectly. his rough palms kneading into your arse whilst you let him use you as he pleases.
just as you feel your climax approaching, he stops thrusting, hot tears spill down your cheeks as your fists bunch up the sheets beneath you. your weeping cunt clenches around him, dragging a gluttonous groan from his mouth. he leans down, pressing his chest to your back, his lips lingering just by your ear.
“say please, schatz,” you just know he’s grinning evilly behind you and you lose all sense of self-respect, just wanting to cum so bad.
“p-please! wanna cum please, i’ll be good!”
satisfied with your answer he gives you no warning as he slips back into you with ease, the wetness of your cunt sucking him in making it easy for him to thrust into you. you slowly feel your knees starting to give out, but thats not a problem, he holds you up easily and you feel your muscles tensing as you feel your orgasm approaching.
the sounds of his grunting, the squelching noises from your cunt, and the tingling in your core cause your mind to go numb and your body to spasm as you cum around him with a high-pitched cry, collapsing into the bed.
he follows moments after you, driving into you a few more times before his hips stutter as he releases inside of you, making you feel full and warm with him. as you catch your breath, his fingers, now gentle, run up and down your back tenderly in a soothing motion.
“was i too mean to you, schatz?” his voice is different now, it’s genuine and caring. he pulls out of you slowly, gently turning you over so he can see your pretty face. you shake your head and tug him down for a kiss. you sigh into his lips, finally getting a taste of his lips that you'd been yearning for the whole night. 
"i'll be right back, liebling." pulling away from you, he smiles down at your post-euphoric state. sliding off of the bed, he slips his briefs back on and disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes before returning with a playful grin.
slipping into your warm embrace, he wastes no time in cradling you in his brawny arms. you almost laugh at his switch of character, how he was just moments earlier, fucking your brains out and now he's picking you up in his arms like his sweetheart. supporting you from under your knees and arms, he carries you to the bathroom, you smile fondly at the sight of a warm bath ready just for you.
he carefully lowers you down into the porcelain tub and you exhale contently as your sore body makes contact with the warm temperature of the bathwater along with the sweet smell of your lavender soap, and the gentle touch of könig's palm as he strokes your blushing cheek tenderly.
and after a few heartbeats of watching you bathe, he just can't help himself before getting into the tub behind you, the water splashing everywhere as his much larger body envelopes yours. pulling your bare back flush against his chest, your frame now trapped in his loving embrace. in that moment you just know, he'll always care for you, your one and only könig.
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.
୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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let’s get one thing straight. 
not all daddy’s girls are dumb.
on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.
but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.
perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.
it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.
and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.
“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 
it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 
you were such a good person. 
turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…
“can i come?” 
with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 
“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.
rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 
you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).
however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 
instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 
“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 
“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 
megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 
you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 
he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 
fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 
he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 
you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 
megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 
finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  
the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.
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the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.
your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 
the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 
he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 
“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 
like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 
“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 
fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 
“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 
“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 
flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 
“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 
you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.
everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 
this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 
“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“
he lets go of your wrists.
tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 
“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.
you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 
“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 
he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 
fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”
it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 
“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 
his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.
“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 
the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 
heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 
“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 
the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 
you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 
“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 
“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.
he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 
fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 
he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 
because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 
“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 
the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 
pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 
he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 
they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 
“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 
he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.
tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 
you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.
you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 
“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 
a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.
“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.
you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 
now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 
your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 
his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 
“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 
this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 
you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 
“fuck…yes.” 
“and you won’t touch me?” 
“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 
and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 
“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”
he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.
even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”
megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.
one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.
each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.
“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.
sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.
“s-shut up.” 
“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 
he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.
you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 
you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.
you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 
clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 
“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 
nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.
he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 
your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.
there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 
“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”
your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.
“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 
fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 
your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 
fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 
the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.
he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 
“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 
“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 
megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 
“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”
“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”
the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.
your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 
despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.
“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.” 
that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.
“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 
he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.
“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 
“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.
he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 
your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 
“really. if it means that much to you.” 
sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 
“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 
“maybe.” 
“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 
you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 
but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 
except this time, you’re not as clueless. 
you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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audisive · 1 month
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♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
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Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
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fleshlightgf · 4 months
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