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squiddy-god · 4 months ago

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The Hydro Dragon? A closet freak!?

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I have no excuse for this other than I NEED this man so bad it makes me look stupid. He's just so…dreamy sigh anyway here are some hcs that i have for the Iudex of fontaine. This is really long. I think I blacked out writing this. This is 6 pages of google docs single spaced size 11 arial font. I think i need to be sedated

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN ♥︎

Cw : this is pure filthy smut, freak Neuvillette, dragon form, monster fucking, inhuman genitals, double dick, desperate kinda pussy drunk Neuvillette, soft dom and hard dom, no pronouns but afab anatomy, implied chubby reader, squirting, bath sex, rut, breeding kink, just pure horny, slight cumflation, oviposition,egg mention, a little bit of predator prey vibes, overstimulation, tail riding. Very slight watersports mentioned, Daycraphilia, Nasty dragon man, sweat and liquids. Spit swapping, spit swallowing, spit kink, marking, biting, possessiveness.PIV sex, possible anal, Title kink? Sir kink? Innocence and court kink?(trust me bro) Reader is matching this mans freak. Aftercare is given, safeword is in place even if not mentioned explicitly

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Neuvillette is not entirely oblivious, he knows that he has needs and instincts but what he is wholly unaware of is that many of these instincts and desires are quite… out of the ordinary

There's also the fact that he has like 0 experience, so all of these desires are rather new or have been festering in his dragon mind for centuries

What the Iudex of fontaine lacks in experience he makes up for in the fact that he is downright insatiable and animalistic at times

When you first got with him you quickly realized that this man was incredibly touch starved, even the most innocent and fleeting touch from his beloved sets his very being to a burning desire.

And he is embarrassed to say that he craves it Neuvillette craves your touch in both a innocent and intimate way to the point you are shocked to find just how clingy he is towards you

The only time when he's not touching you, holding you, trying to sait the burning you leave him with is when he has court, and once he is out of court his mind returns to you, making sure you have a permanent seat at the opera house right next to his usual reserved seating.

Once he's out of court he's by your side, placing a kiss to the back of your hand and guiding you with a hand to the small of your back

To the people of fontaine he is a doting and protective lover, which is true, but they don't know the sheer levels of clingy that he is

He tries at first to contain this, so he doesn't scare you off, but eventually he simply needs you to be close to him

The other thing that comes as a shock is that this man is a freak

Let's start with his more inhuman side

The reason he is so covered is because his skin is slightly scaly, beautiful scales of cyan and cerulean blues that layer his skin in large patches, the main areas are his sides and part of his back, his thighs and his arms where they seem to sit permanently much like his pointed ears and horns (the blue streaks in his hair are horns trust me on this) when he uses his hydro powers or lets loose they glow

When he really lets loose the scales creep up his neck to his jaw, his ears seem to grow longer and more pointed, his teeth get sharper, his nails seem to grow more into claws and his pupils draw into slits.

His eyes and the rest of him seems to give off a faint blue glow

His tongue is long- like really long- and forked- and when he lets loose its a deep shade of blue

His cocks- both of them are far from human, hidden behind a vent they are ribbed un the underside with the head coming to a slight point, the top side is lined with bumps that resemble small tendrils, they line the head of his cocks to.

His tips are flushed an angry dark blue

This man has nice veins, his cocks are quite veiny but the veins along his body are rather pronounced as well, a deep blue, good and hydrated

He also has a large tail, its long and a deep blue fully scaled, thick at the base and tapers till the tailfins witch are a almost iridescent cyan and resemble the ends of his coattails

Ok now into the real smutty stuff-

He needs it messy, as messy and wet as possible, the problem is the more wet and messy it gets the hornier he gets in return

If the bed sheets aren't soaked and dripping wet with just about every fluid possible then he isn't satisfied

And i mean the bed sheets look like they just came out of a river

He gets so pussy drunk- this man is insatiable and eats you out for his own pleasure, basically tongue fucking you to drink up all of your juices he possibly can

The taste of you is intoxicating and he cannot get enough

The first time he eats you out, his tongue fucking into your overstimulated hole before he finally pulls out and his long tongue wraps around your clit as he all but makes out with your lower half and you wine out that it feels weird like your goona pee-

And this freak without hesitation presses on your stomach as you cum from his unrelenting ministrations

Because he is a freak who doesn't understand that things like that are not in fact what most are into. (he is eternally shocked when you explain this to him, trying to tell him his taste in kinks and fetishes are abnormal. Cannot fathom how it isn't hot to others)

But when to his shock you squeal and squirt his mouth, chin, and chest soaked along with the sheets

You are mid apology for the mess when you look at his eyes, his pupils are blown wide as saucers as he stares down at you breath heavy- downright ragged and he groans so low it rumbles in his chest and almost sounds like a growl

“I hadn't known that this was something the human body could do” before his pupils contract into little slits and he is licking you clean before he goes right back into trying to make you squirt again-

He is obsessed with you squirting, the fact that you were so lost in (the sauce) pleasure that you produced a significant volume of liquid? This man lives off of moisture, his favorite drink is water and he needs everything to be moist and wet for him to be fully comfortable, such is the nature of the hydro dragon. So it shouldn't be a shock that he is obsessed with making you squirt

Usually this leaves you rather overstimulated, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and running down your cheeks

Oh and Neuvillette love it- tears of pleasure soon laped away by his tongue as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss

Asks you with utmost seriousness to spit in his mouth and is confused by how flustered that makes you

But once you do he is practically moaning at the taste, greedily drinking whatever you will give him

And if you match his freak? Ask him to spit in your mouth? He's gone lmao- truly you are a blessing hand picked from celestia just for him

The first time you gave him head and spit on his cocks so you could switch between sucking and stroking them, making sure they got equal attention, he came instantly. The sight was just too much for him to handle

Neuvillette cums an insane amount. Its slightly watery but the amount is ridiculous, his precum is enough to have you thinking he already busted, but when he actually cums its like a broken faucet taking several gulps to swallow down and it still manages to coat you

And he just stays hard as a rock, the dragon stamina is insane and is even worse when he's in a rut

He loves to see you absolutely plastered with his cum, dripping all over you and out of you

The way your poor tummy is bloated while his clawed fingers push the rapidly escaping liquid back into you

The breeding kink on this man is unmatched, and i mean the only other contender who even comes close is tartaglia “PLAP PLAP PLAP GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT” ajax,

Neuvillette doesn't care if you actually can get pregnant or not- he is breeding you and he will make it happen

More freaky shit the man is obsessed with your sweat

He always hates when it gets too hot out but he thinks he can stand it when he sees the beads of sweat rolling down your body as you guzzle down a bottle of water.

Has to restrain himself with a white knuckled grip on his cane to stop from licking the sweat off of you

Once you are alone tho? He is absolutely licking you, to the point you can't tell if it's the sweat or the saliva that's dripping off of you.

Another chance to match his freak. Once on a hot day in his office you gave him a chaste kiss to his jaw, witch already had him longing, but then you licked a strip up the chiseled line of his jaw and he came in his pants

Work was finished early that day

If there's one thing that gets him worked up its seeing you wet in any context, or seeing you return the desire he has for you. All in all he wants you to desire him, to long for him

I think he has a large bathtub, really its more like a pool that happens to be heated and deep, with benches along the edges for sitting. Again like a large heated swimming pool

His favorite place to fuck you is in his bath, despite the scene of soaked silk sheets being burned ito him mind, fucking you in his element is just something else honestly.

The water sloshing against you accompanied by the lewd sound of you getting absolutely rearranged? Music to his pointed ears.

Almost forgot to mention this but his cock glows and throbs, the veins pulsing with a slight glow- and if you get him horny and desperate enough (not hard this man is easy to get bricked up-) mostly after he's spent hours between your legs or making out with you, you can even see and feel how his cocks seem to writhe and they write inside you too, when their thickness is stuffed into your hole(s) and Neuvillette is about to cum again they writhe and squirm in your gummy walls sending you over the edge as they poke against that gummy spot inside of you

Neuvillette wants to have both his cocks in just your one hole but he knows the stretch of just one is intense so he won't indulge unless you beg him for it

Once when he was at work you decided to take a nice bath, to ease your sore muscles and the numerous marks littering your body, from bite marks to dark hickeys all over

The Iudex can be quite possessive at times, the dragon instincts letting that possessive streak coil in the pit of his stomach because you are his mate and when he says his, he means it.

When he gets possessive like this he gets meaner- no one in fontaine dares to flirt with his lover, out of both respect and slight fear of the consequences (harassment is taken very seriously)

But every so often someone wants to test his patience, or a foreigner who has no idea who you are oversteps. He is always calm, firm hand on your back as he states that it is rude and impolite to so vulgarly pursue his partner

But when the two of you are back at your shared home? He is a bit mean, rougher as he needs you to say that you're his over and over again.

This is where the title kink(?) and sir kink come in. call him “sir neuvillette” “sir Iudex” profess your innocence, plead your case to him, prove the other party guilty

And he will relent his marking and harsh grip infavore of soft open mouth kisses and the pleasure he bistoes on you

Afterall he is a benevolent and fair judge

Back to the bath-

You took a bath without him, witch is a rare occasion as he loves to bathe with you, even in a non sexual context. It is simply a comfortable intimacy for him

But this time is different

Seeing you surrounded by his element of hydro, the room moist with steam as your body glistens with moister, his eyes go to saucers again and he is quick to approach

Tugging off his gloves with his teeth and letting them cup your cheek and travel beneath the water while he leaves sweet kisses on your skin until he cant help himself and dips his head to the place where the water rest against your chest and he drinks

Like a man lost in the dessert, you can hear the obscene gulps this man lets out

The freak in him drinks your fucking bath water and has absolutly no shame about it

In Fact it has his cocks aching for you, while his expression can only be described as adoration

Because the Iudex of fontaine adores you in a way that is only brought on by centuries of longing for a person he has never met

He is much worse during his rut

It is a week solid of him just absolutely fucking you into whatever surface or body of water he can find

His throat is tight and dry, no amount of water seems to be able to quench this thirst and so he drink you

If you thought he was a munch before then the glint in his eyes at the scent of your arousal is downright predatory

He makes sure you drink about as much water as him, witch is a feat of its own, just so that you have more for him to drink from you

His taste for water is extraordinary on a good day but it even more apparent in his rut,

Because regardless of when it is he can taste you. The kind of water or liquids you drink seeps into everything, he can taste it in you sweat, in your slick, in your spit- the cool refreshing quality of mondstat, the mineraly flavor of inazuma, the sweet taste of sumeru, the tang and burn of inazuma, he can taste it normally but in rut he is downright shameful about describing how you taste on his tongue.

Has you drink different imported watters between rounds to get full flavor

Practically begs to breed you- hes already bad on a regular day, his paternal instincts too stong- but now its different, he wants his eggs inside you, wants you swollen and barefoot around his manor and he needs it- if you aren't ready he’ll just stuff you full like he normally does with cum he knows wont take, but he can hope

Remember how I said he doesn't care if you can get pregnant? Yeah that's because it doesn't matter- the part that matters is his eggs-

On the chance you do say yes to his eggs he is overjoyed, biting down on your shoulder with a bit of venom that numbs your mind- just enough so the stretch of his eggs and the way he has to deposit them doesn't hurt

Speaking of biting the first rut you spend with him is intense, its a week he takes off, (it is now regularly built into his schedule that he has a solid week blocked out for his rut) its his first rut he hasn't forcefully suppressed or simply worked through in solitude and now he has a mate to spend it with?

The first time he slides his length inside you he can resist the urge to sink his teeth into you, right where your shoulder meets your neck he bites down hard

A permanent bite mark with a small hydro mark in the center that glows faintly when he touches you, or when it rains, or you touch water. The glow sends a pleasant and refreshing feeling, like warmth without heat

Because he is so much more thirsty the dirty man fuck you in the bath a lot more and ends up drinking your bathwater more

Be a freak, do it back, drink this man up because he is a tall glass of water.

You do have needs, you can just be attached to the Iudex for a week straight, even tho he insists he could send someone to go grocery shopping, you so cruelly leave him to fist his cocks while you are out getting fresh air.

Personally I like the idea of neuvillettes home being underwater like those glass structures you can find in fontaine. Its huge in a lake, half of it is a beautiful mix of stained and clear glass, even some that seem iridescent, the other half is built in the same french rococo style as the mansions of fontaine, with the exception that it is built into the rocky wall of the deep lake. There is a tunnel that leads to the oceans of fontaine and its ideal for neuvillette. But you need fresh air

So you are gone for a few hours on the surface and he is suffering,

By the time you get back he the mansion is dark, none of the lights are on and it was raining outside (hence your hasty return)

The second you step in through the elevator down you can tell something- someone is watching you, the subtle growl and fleeting glimpse of glowing blue in the corner of your eye making the hair on the back of your neck stand up

Like a small lamb you wander through the large house knowing that hes right there, stalking in the shadows, hunting you

The only light is at the very ends of one of the halls, where you know the master bath is. With trepidation you walk towards the bathroom, knowing that's probably where he's going to absolutely jump your bones, you can't help the arousal that pools

Another thing that alerts you being the growl you hear behind you

When you finally get to the bathroom you decide to play his game- stripping off your clothes slowly- temptingly as his eyes burn across you before you sink into the water and swim to the center of his large bath (real basically a swimming pool)

You don't even hear him get in, but the second you turn back around expecting him to be at the water's edge- he's inches away from you, predatory eyes staring down at you as if to let you know he's won

The lights go off and all you can see is the glow of his eyes as you swim away slowly while he drops towards you until the cold hard tiles press into your back while you sit on the built in ledge, he rises cageing you between his arms as his long silvery hair falls disheveled down his back and cascades over his tense shoulders like a waterfall, he glows more and more and water drops hit your face, the blue streaks that cover the underside of his hair give off a faint glow, then the scales along his body, the long dark blue tail that you now see is also slightly alight. You dare to travel your eyes away from his, away from his hands- his claws that grip and cut into the tile slightly, down his chest and below his waist to the glow that sits just below the water

His tail wraps around your legs nudging them apart

“Look at me my beloved”

His tone is soft but there's a edge to it that has you snapping to attention, for once your eyes are blown wide as saucers and his are narrow slits like needles

Then you feel it, the rub of his thick tail that has your legs spreading to accommodate it while it grinds against you getting you worked up and just as desperate as he is

Ride this mans tail he will be put under a trance

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itneverendshere · 2 months ago

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it's all you're good for, right? - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

rafe knew you wouldn’t take his disrespect lightly.

you never did.

he’d expected you to blow up the second he pulled that ignoring shit at the dinning. he was ready for it—your texts coming in hot, maybe you showing up at his house, ready to tear into him like you always did when he pushed too far. he'd never say it out loud, but a part of him almost liked it, the way you’d get all fired up, spitting mad. it was hot.

but you didn’t call. not a single text. you didn’t show up to the party that weekend, and when he tried to hit you up, just looking for a booty call—because fuck, he was so hard thinking about you—it went straight to voicemail. he stared at his phone like an idiot, calling again. blocked.

you? block him? nah, that wasn’t supposed to happen. rafe was the one with the power here, or at least, that’s how it used to be. it was always this push and pull, but he was the one pulling the strings, right? no fucking pogue was ever going to order him around. right?

wrong. the next weekend rolls around, and there you are at one of his parties, looking good as ever, laughing with your friends like nothing happened. and still, not even a glance his way. for two weeks now, you’ve been completely ignoring him, and it’s starting to get under his skin. more than it should.

he watches you from across the yard like a fucking creep, sipping his drink and trying to act like he doesn’t give a fuck, but inside, he’s low-key losing it. he half-expected you to walk right up to him and give him hell like you always do. but no, you’re just... doing your own thing.

but what’s really making his head spin is what you're wearing. the outfit is pure trouble—skin-tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. a barely-there black mini skirt, riding up just enough to make his jaw clench, paired with a tiny top that’s more like a bralette than an actual shirt. it’s low-cut and clings to your curves, thin straps barely holding it in place, and the way it hugs your body?

yeah, he’s fucked. the way the skirt moves when you walk, teasing just enough thigh? it’s like you knew he’d be watching.

he hates how much it turns him on.

every guy at the party notices. he can see the way their eyes follow you as you move through the crowd, laughing, like you don’t even care. but it’s the way you’re ignoring him that’s really pushing him to the edge. normally, rafe loves the attention despite the look of disgust he always greets you with when you show up. loves knowing you’re secretly going to end up in his bed. but tonight? he’s not so sure and it’s killing him.

by the time he corners you, all he can think about is tearing that outfit off. the silent treatment? that shit was way worse than anything you could've said.

“alrigh’, i get it,” he starts, throwing his hands up like he’s already done with this conversation. “jesus christ.”

you just blink up at him, completely unfazed, like he’s not even worth a reaction. his words might as well be bouncing off a wall. the fact that you’re standing there looking so fucking good, and acting like he doesn’t even exist, is messing with his head more than anything you could’ve said.

he’s pissed, yeah, but more than that, he’s desperate. desperate for a reaction. for anything. but you just brush past him, your body touching his for the briefest second, like you’re doing it on purpose just to make him snap.

rafe stands there for a second, blinking in disbelief. did you just really blow him off like that?

before he even realizes it, he's following after you, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed.

“are you serious right now?” he hisses when he catches up, grabbing your wrist lightly but firm enough to make you stop. the emotion in his voice is undeniable, and everyone nearby is pretending not to watch the little scene. “you're really just gonna walk past me like that?”

karma’s a bitch.

you finally turn to him, but the look in your eyes isn’t anger—it’s indifference. that cold, detached stare that fucks with his head more than any of the shouting matches you’ve had in the past. you pull your wrist free with ease, like his grip is nothing.

“’m over it,” you say coolly, like you’ve already moved on from the whole thing, “whatever this is? it’s not worth my time.”

that does it.

he’s used to the back and forth, the fire between you, but this, you acting like you don’t care at all—it’s new, and it pisses him off more than he thought possible. he steps closer, dropping his voice lower so no one else can hear.

“bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowing. “you’re pissed, i get it. but don’t act like you’re done with me. you aren’t.”

the smirk that curls on your lips is almost cruel.

“watch me.”

you turn and walk away, leaving rafe standing there. he knows he should let it go, but every time he tries to convince himself of that, the way your body looks in that outfit, the way you shut him down so easily, keeps replaying in his head.

and instead of walking away, he’s right back where he started, chasing after you like he can’t stand the idea of not having you anymore.

before you even get two steps away, he snaps.

his patience has run out, and all that pent-up frustration? yeah, it’s got him seeing red. he doesn’t even think about it—just moves. his hand wraps around your arm, and in one swift motion, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder.

“what the fuck, rafe!” you shout, your fists pounding on his muscular back, but he doesn’t stop. eyes burning, jaw clenched—he doesn’t give a shit who’s watching. not his friends, not anyone at the party. right now? he’s too pissed off and turned on to think straight.

you wriggle in his grip, your legs kicking, but he holds you tight, marching through the party like it’s no big deal, even though everyone’s definitely staring. he’ll deal with the fallout later.

“put me down!” you’re practically growling, and maybe under any other circumstances, he would’ve listened. but not tonight. tonight, he’s done playing nice, done pretending like he’s not obsessed with you or your body, done trying to act like he’s got control over this situation when clearly, you’re the one pulling all the strings.

his grip on you is tight, and possessive, and you’re too furious to care about how turned on you secretly are. he doesn’t stop until he reaches his room, kicking the door shut behind him with one solid thud. the sound of the lock clicking is loud in the tense silence. then, he throws you onto his bed, like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.

you bounce once, staring at him with wide eyes.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, sitting up on the bed, glaring at him.

he’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair, wild-eyed, like he’s trying to calm himself down but can’t. he turns to you, his face twisted in frustration, like he’s been holding something in for way too long. and when he speaks, his voice cracks just enough to show how on edge he really is.

“you!” he explodes, pointing at you like you're the only thing in the room. “you’re what’s wrong with me!”

his pacing slows down, and suddenly he stops. he turns back to you, both his hands shooting up to his temples, fingers pressing into his head.

“you get in my fucking head,” he admits through gritted teeth, jabbing his fingers into his temples like he’s blaming you for every thought he's had for weeks. “i can’t think straight because of you. every fucking time, you crawl into my head and just—won’t—leave.”

instead of letting his little meltdown get to you, you lean back on your hands, with a bratty scoff. “how is that my fucking problem?” you snap, crossing your arms like you couldn’t care less about his breakdown. “that’s on you, not me. maybe you should try, i don’t know, leaving me alone.”

rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight, “you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping closer, closing the gap between you two, his presence almost suffocating. “you think you can just sit there and act like none of this is your fault?”

you give him a fake sweet smile, leaning forward just enough to be in his face, “maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me in the first place, hmm? god forbid your friends find out you’ve been slumming it with a pogue.”

it’s the fake docility in your smile that makes him want to break something. he steps even closer, his breath hot and heavy as his eyes lock onto yours, blue and furious.

"that’s what this is?" His voice is low, almost a growl. “you seriously don’t get it, do you?" he leans in, his face inches from yours, his expression almost daring you to keep pushing. "this—whatever the fuck this is between us—this isn’t about them. it’s about you." his hand shoots out, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into from the beginning."

you yank your chin free, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's getting to you. “right. you ignoring me at the dinner? guess i was supposed to just sit there and take it, huh? maybe you wanted me to be a good little bitch and not make any noise.”

you might be pissed, but you're not just angry—you're hurt, and that fucks with his head more than he cares to admit.

rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “what the fuck do you want from me? huh? you want me to call you my girlfriend? you want me to fucking introduce you like this is some kind of relationship? be fucking serious.”

"be fucking serious?" you repeat, "you gave me a 200$ tip, you fucking asshole!" you shove him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. “like ’m some kind of fucking whore!”

rafe's eyes widen as he stumbles back a step, “wait—what? no, no, no. that’s not what it meant.”

you glare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “of course, it fucking was!” you shout, shoving him again, harder this time. “what else would it mean, huh? you throw money at me like it’s supposed to make everything okay, like ’m some kind of... some kind of pogue you can pay off and keep quiet.”

he looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “that’s not—fuck, that’s not what i meant. i wasn’t thinking about it like that, okay? i was trying to help you!" he blurts out, his tone defensive, like he can’t believe you’re twisting his intentions into something they weren’t.

you laugh, but it’s sharp, biting. “help me?” you stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “oh, please. shut the fuck up. why would you ever want to help me, rafe? be real.” he tries to speak, but before he can you’re already stepping back. “if you want to fuck me, just get on with it. i need to leave. so, make it quick.”

what?

“is that what you think this is?” he doesn’t move to touch you, but the tension is strong enough to feel suffocating. “you think ’m just here to—”

“to fuck me? yeah. that’s what this has always been about,” you cut him off, “and you know what? it’s okay. let’s not drag it out. do what you do best—take what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s not ready to admit that this feels more than just a hookup. he’s not sure if he will ever get there. rafe’s chest heaves as he stares at you. he’s done trying to explain himself.

“fine,” he snaps, stepping closer until his chest is almost brushing yours. “if that’s what you want.”

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t back down. not when you're this annoyed. “yeah, it is. stop wasting my time.”

in one swift motion, rafe pulls you to him by the waist, with his usual roughness that makes you drip between your thighs. his lips claim yours with a bruising force. it’s not soft or sweet—this is raw, messy, all tongue and teeth. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, your ass, pulling you flush against him like he can’t have any space between you. you’re both moving with frantic, desperate eagerness, like this is less about desire and more about proving a point.

“is this what you want?” rafe snarls against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank your top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. “to get fucked stupid and leave? that it?”

you let out a breathless laugh, but it’s overflowing with venom. “that’s all you’re good for, right?”

so much for making peace.

TAGLIST: @drewstarkeys-world @maibelitaaura @maybankslover @jkrafe @willowpains

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bimbosandbubbles · 5 months ago

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All Consuming

Starring Yandere Siren Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- Two months ago you became a sole survivor to a supposed animal attack on a lake trip and because of that you’ve become alienated from everyone else in your much too rural community. However,you’re finally not so alone when two mysterious men are way too interested in you…But something’s a little off about them..

Fic for my Summertime Slashers event!

Warnings-mates,Geto and Gojo kinda have a feeding kink in this(they like seeing you eat bcs they only eat human flesh and obviously you don’t 😭), stalking,cum marking(you’ll find out), voyeurism,mirror kink,mutual masturbation,biting,oviposition,icky flirting(they’re very confused on the fact that humans don’t just mate like sirens do), dubcon,borderline noncon,multiple sex scenes,leg worshipping?,manipulation(you’re very vulnerable in this and they take advantage of that),abuse of super natural power(not clearly stated but implied),panty sniffing,lots of breeding kink,and ofc and always CHUBBY READER!

An explanation on sirens and how I tweaked them from traditional folklore! Just so you can have more understanding on why things happen in this fic! So Sirens typically are beings that lure men in with their beautiful voice and then capture them with their magical touch! This is kinda like that but not really! Geto and Gojo are male sirens so they usually target the opposite sex! Their siren voice isn’t necessarily singing it’s just something they can activate in this fic! Also they can go on and off land if they’re well fed! In this fic I imply heavily that sirens take mates like many other sea life!

WC-6.9K/6,925

"Can you give a description of him?"

"Them." Is all you can answer. Seething hot acid pulls at the back of your throat,begging to come out on the steel table. Your quaking hands grip the very edge of the table for some kind of support—a sense of grounding in this situation.

"Right,them. My apologies. The descriptions though,(Reader)?" You gulp,"Well one was taller than the other had these piercing blue eyes,almost like light itself. The other had these soulless black ones...emotionless and empty kinda."

In front of you there's this quiet man presumingly sketching away the description. "Anything else?" You bite your lip and glance down at your scarred fingers but you quickly look away because the memory of just why those injuries remain are there is much too fresh. "I don't know...everything was a blur. I can't remember a thing other than seeing them..."You swallow a thick wad of spit before you utter another word,"tear into my friends."

The officer in front of you stares into your glassy eyes that you bet are red and bulging to the point it looks like you've been choked instead of crying. He sighs,"Look,(Reader) you seem to be a nice enough girl but these details are just not enough to drive this case. This is the third time we've invited you down to the station and you've said nothing to make us believe two men did this to your friends."

"Please! I saw them! I really,really did! I swear! I wouldn't lie about seeing those—those monsters!" The officer sighs and ounces the bridge of his nose,"Let's be real,when the attacked happened you were intoxicated,right? You were out having fun with your girlfriends and probably doing other substances. Or maybe the shock of seeing your friends mauled by an animal got to you. Whatever the case may be I know it's not two human men who ate your friends in front of you."

You clench your fists in pure disgust at the audacity this person has in front of you. He's not the one who had to see it,he's not the one who had to watch your friends cry and beg for help and couldn't do anything about it, and he's certainly not the one who had to live through their constant cries of pain. You finally raise your voice an octave,"I know what I saw and I won't suffer through some accusations pushed onto me because this story isn't believable enough for you!"

The officer doesn't take lightly to your shouting and doesn't remain so calm with his doubt. "I'm tired of listening to your bullshit anyways! There is no man eating monster with glowing blue eyes! And there definitely isn't another soulless black eyed creep!" He takes a deep breath and stands from the metal chair. You sit there in silence fighting back tears and you have no clue why the liquid is fleeing your eye ducts.

It's probably anger or sadness,or both whatever the reason might be you curl up into yourself and sob in front of the two cops. "(Reader), I apologize...but I can't take this case serious. I know you're hurting,losing your friends in an animal caused massacre but you're wasting resources and precious time for cases that actually need to be solved. So just go home and get some therapy,yeah?"

Through teary eyes you gaze at the officer in his harsh eyes and you're left wondering why does no one believe you? It's been two months since the attack and you're doing all the right things;therapy,self groups,going back to normal life,yet you're treated like some crazy person. You've never been the type to lie. Never been the type to abuse someone's trust,so why?

Why are you so unbelievable? Are your tears not mournful enough? Is your slowly deteriorating appearance not evidence enough? Is the scars on your body just too artificial looking for people not to believe the truth?

With your head hung low you whisper,"Sorry officer,I'll go home."

▂▂▂▂

"Oh my god is that her?" The whisper flows through the dining hall. Another answers,"I think she's totally crazy." Then another,"Oh be nice,her friends got mauled by some kind of wolf in front of her." "I heard it was a bear actually."

You chew on your mediocre sandwich trying to ignore the constant voices mumbling about you. It's the first week you've been back at uni since the attack and it's not going so well for you. People only pity you or look down at you for not just dying with your friends. Some people think that you're even responsible for their deaths. But it won't be much longer until you're free of the university gossip due to the fact that summer break is nearly two weeks away. And even with that time frame people are already leaving the dorms entirely.

And what makes it so unfortunate is that no one's in your corner anymore. Your parents have turned their backs on you because it's like a sin to have a child struggling with their mental health in this godforsaken small town. And your friends well...gone because of that very event. And you can't even dream about making any new ones because now you're looked at like some disease instead of a victim of a horrifying crime.

But it's okay,that's what you tell yourself. And that's the mantra that keeps flowing through your brain as you take bite after bite into your too cold food. You people watch from the wooden eating area—turning green with envy as you glance from after people enjoying each other's company.

That was once you, eating and laughing among your beloved closest companions. You don't wish to be bitter for others happiness but it's hard not to when you're actively being shunned by your whole town basically.

You glance down at your depressing looking tray of food and decide it doesn't even look edible to you anymore. You debate whether or not you should throw it away or just eat it. Simply because you haven't been eating much since the incident. You nimble on your lip and decide you shouldn't force yourself to eat food you don't even like.

You arise from your seat and wish you didn't because now all eyes are on you as if they weren't before. You sigh and walk all the way to trash trying to power through all the chatter and seething stares. They all look at you like some parasite slowly infecting them with your presence alone.

Sure,you've been stared at before being that you're a bigger girl in a hick town but this is something different. Something crueler...and more hurtful. It's so hurtful that you're just probably going to skip all your lectures and run away into the comfort of your home.

However your mind sets that aside once you see two strangers sitting at your once empty table. Your brows raises as you walk confusedly back to the table to retrieve your book bag.

Once you come closer you're shocked to be met with eyes black as the night...eyes that are so eerily familiar. "Oh I'm sorry we didn't know anyone was sitting here!" His voice is calm and gentle,gentle to the point that you'd melt into the his arms right now because the longing for comfort roughly tugs at you. Pathetic,anyone would agree to that,however you're just so entirely vulnerable for any type of interaction and touch at the moment. Then you take a look at his face and you're shocked to see how handsome he is.

His long raven locks go past his broad shoulders that is covered with a loose breathable crew neck. Not only are his eyes pretty in color but the shape as well;his kind monolids gazing at you right now practically has you flustered. "It's alright..I was leaving anyhow." You mumble with a nervous smile.

"Nooo! Stay! This table has so much room!" A chipper,more energetic voice adds in. Your attention is turned to the voice and this time you're even more shocked at how good looking this man is too. He has snow white hair that frames his pretty face along with eyes so blue they're almost hypnotizing. But again something in your belly finds those eyes too familiar almost like you've met the men before.

"Oh no you wouldn't wanna sit with me...people will start talking about you too." The black haired man smiles,"Let them talk," he extends his long arm on the back of the seat next to Gojo,"sit." Gojo moves from that seat to make sure you're the one in the middle of the two men. You shyly nod,"Thank you."

You sit down and feel a sudden presence of something....something intense between the three of you despite just making their acquaintance. "My name is Suguru Geto,"he points to the other man beside you,"This is Satoru Gojo." He smiles and waves,"What's your name cutie?" The white haired man peers at you as he awaits the answer to his question. "(Reader Full Name),nice to meet you guys."

The both say it's nice to meet you also and you guys chatter about each others day,major etc. "Have you eaten yet?" Suguru asks. "Umm kinda,the food I got wasn't very good so I just threw it away." Gojo say,"Oh no,eat with us! Me and Guru always eat good food so you'll like it for sure."

"No no it's okay! I wouldn't wanna have you guys pay for anything from the food bar." You used the word pay because all the good food you have to pay for instead of meal swipes. And because you're suddenly shunned from this town you're naturally unable to keep a job anymore,therefore making you broker than a joke. "I'll pay." Gojo says.

"It's o—" Gojo interrupts,his big hand managing to fully wrap around your plump upper arm,"I'll pay." He affirms. You just nod silently and watch as he walks up to the food bar to buy the items. Geto looks at you and smile,"So what's a pretty girl like you sitting all by herself for?"

You look down and feel your tummy doing backflips for two reasons;the compliment and the question. You're nervous to explain just why you're being ignored and you're nervous you'll mess up the chance of making new friends. However,you go for being honest and not lying,just to see if they'll actually be someone you'll want to have as companions.

"Well two months ago an incident happened at the lake with my friends. They were attacked by two monsters and I was the only one to make it out alive. But the weird thing is...I wasn't attacked at all...they just ignored me and only went for my friends. But after they were done they looked at me in this way—this way that was so,"you pause,trying to find your bearings,"haunting. Not like they wanted to eat me but something else entirely..." Your rub your pudgy fingers as you explain and Geto does something surprising.

He grips your hands to stop the constant movement. His smooth fingers rub soothing circles on your now healed skin. And it feels so good to be touched with affection, so good that you almost forgot to finish your story. "I went to the police as soon as it happened and I was told it was probably an animal attack but I know what I saw...I know wholeheartedly. And that's why I was sitting alone,everyone thinks I'm some crazy person making stuff up." Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you feel tears begin to pool in your eyes.

"And you probably think I'm crazy now too..." Your voice breaks and your brain is working overtime. How humiliating that you're breaking down to a total stranger in public too! God,why are you so pathetic? So vulnerable to the point you easily melt into the arms of an unknown person. Has your sense of self truly scrambled that far away from you?

Geto extends his arm to wrap around your supple body,he's warm and smells like ocean breeze mixed with sandalwood. "I don't, I believe you." It's a whisper yet the impact is like a loud shout. "You do?" He gets closer,his soft pink lips muttering so close to the shell of your ear,"I do." You shiver involuntarily,your body unable to contain the way his coo affected you physically.

"Thank you." It's a mumble but still Geto acknowledges it with a soft squeeze on your body.

"I brought the food!" A happy voice interjects. Gojo sets down loads of plates of delectable looking food. And suddenly your tummy rumbles just looking at the many options of food.

Gojo hears it,"You hungry now?" You nod shyly and can't help but look down at the very good options. After weeks of eating too cold food and mess hall trash seeing the hot bar meals would make anyone hungry. White hair bobs as the tall man takes his seat next to you.

"Go on,eat." He smiles a toothy grin. His hand extends to your lips with a forkful of pasta that smells so good you literally inhale it. You instinctively open your mouth only to quickly close it. Because oh my God were you about to let this stranger feed you? Has hardly any human interaction made you so compliant?

Gojo pouts,"What's wrong?" You quickly try to reassure him,"It's nothing...but I can feed myself,y'know.." You almost forgot Geto is still holding you,the only cause for remembering is strictly based on the firm squeeze he gives your upper body. "Eat." He asks,more like demands.

Despite how demanding he sounded it was still gentle? Almost like a calming song in an odd way. You open your mouth and Gojo happily stuffs the fork in your mouth. You chew and melt into the flavors of the yummy dish but you can't fully enough it because the men you're sitting next to are quietly observing you.

Another bite is feed to you and another,then another until the pasta is all gone. Every single time you took a bite Geto and Gojo all watched in admiration. Geto,who still has you in a half embrace would caress the supple skin of your bare arms that are free from sleeves in your cotton cami. The texture of the pads of his fingers would rub you as you ate.

And Gojo would clean up your chubby face if he missed your mouth just a little bit. He'd use his thumb to wipe away the evidence of the mess with his oddly sharp and long tongue. His other hand also stayed close and near to the pudge that hangs low on your abdomen,practically cupping the fat that adorns the area.

And all while eating you didn't realize how intimate this interaction really is. Two men watching you as your spoon fed by one and both touching you so...personally;this is not a normal interaction between strangers. You know that,yet it feels too good to tell them to stop. You haven't been touched with affection in so long so why fight it when two handsome men are practically draped all over you?

"Would you like some dessert?" Geto asks. Gojo chimes in,"You should absolutely have some dessert. I got these cute cakes for you to try." You look down in embarrassment,"I don't know if I should...I just ate the pasta." Gojo quirks his brow up in confusion,"So? You can't have dessert too?"

You smile,"I guess I can." Gojo grins brightly,"Atta girl,open wide." Already with spoon in hand and a sweet treat in it, he moves it to your mouth. Of course you accept and chew happily on the sweet treat until a thought interrupts this indulgent interaction. Why haven't they eaten? You've been here,being fed and talked to by these for at least an hour or more,but they haven't eaten? Why come to the lunch hall then?

You quickly swallow the treat,"Aren't you guys hungry?" Geto answers,"Oh me and Gojo were earlier but watching you eat has satisfied our appetite." His response is followed with an enthusiastic nod by his blue eyed friend,"Mhm! You eat so cute it's hard not to get full."

You make a face full of doubt,"Umm,I dunno if you guys are trying to be overly nice to me but I don't believe that for one second." You push away Geto's hold on you and Gojo's slight grip on you to scoot away from the pair. Suddenly,you've fully realized that this whole thing is really weird even though you truly are enjoying the attention from the very good looking men.

But that enjoyment isn't enough to just ignore how fast and dangerous this all could possibly be. You don't know how you just dazed off and forgotten all about that. You stand up and urgently say,"Look,you guys have been really nice to me and I totally appreciate it but this is just all really weird for me so I'm just gonna—"

Geto stands up with such a quickness it's almost supernatural,"Shhh...you don't mean that sweet girl. Just come and sit with me and Saturo,yeah? We'll make all that confusion will go away,okay?" His words are so sweet,so soft and gentle;inviting to the point you almost relax back to the seat but you don't.

"No—can't. This is so personal and you guys don't even know me...plus everyone can see you behaving this way with me." You go to grab your bag but Gojo stops your exit this time. "C'mon cutie,it's okay. It's just me and Sugu,we wouldn't wanna do anything to hurt our lil pretty new friend. If it's the people watching...we can take you up to our dorm and continue this there."

Geto adds,"That's a good idea, all these people shouldn't be watching you anyways." You look at them in confusion and seriously debate if going back to their dorm is actually a good idea at all. "Don't treat your new friends like this;we're not gonna hurt you." Friends? Are they really calling themselves friends?

You bite your lip and glare down at your beat up sneakers,"I don't know.." Gojo pulls you close to him by gripping your soft hand,"It's okay,cutie. It's just me and Geto,we won't do anything."

You bite your lip,stumped with providing them with an answer,it's useless though because an arm links with yours and already starts ushering you along to exit the mess hall. "W-Wait!" You try to pull yourself away from the limb but it's like forged iron. Geto utters,"It's okay. Just come with us. It's just us."

You were panicked,worried,anxious to the point of feeling like throwing up. The feeling washes away as Geto soothes you with his words;odd considering the fact that he's not explicitly saying anything too calming. He's just talking,yet his syllables feel like warm chamomile tea that just eases your mind and heart.

It feels magical...too artificial of a feeling it's almost like being on a high. The feeling only increases when Gojo joins his friend in talking to you;literally and metaphorically syncing with him as he also links his arm with yours.

The longer they talk the more woozy you begin to feel. Your walls of distrust and logic melt away like rapid candle wax,so much so that you begin teeter into their touch.

Your mind is confused and vulnerable to the point you don't realize you're in front of their dorm room until Gojo pulls you into the room. They both free you of their hold and suddenly you feel more conscious.

"Why'd you take me here? I didn't even get a say.." Geto rubs the apparent flesh on the back of your arms,"It's alright...you'll enjoy being with us." Your brows scrunch and you want to spew something aggressive but his touch and his voice are just too...distracting.

"G-Geto.." you whimper. You don't know why you say his name,it's just the only thing your mouth will allow you to say. "Yes, tell me what do you want?" You snuggle closer into his touch,breathless and confused,"I don't know..." Gojo then walks closer to you,taking up the front portion of your body. His hands cling to your wide waist;digits dig into the dough like flesh.

"Would you like for us to give you an option?" The long haired man whispers in your ear,his lips practically pecking the shell of the cartilage. You're weak and feel all too needy. Needy for what is the real question though.

"Please,yes.." you lowly whimper. With that the two men place you onto a soft bouncy mattress,leaving you without the their touch for a few minutes but that doesn't last for long. Gojo already has his hands on your tummy,practically massaging the flesh with his hands. He leans forwards and starts suckling on the skin of your nape.

He starts thumbing the beginning of your loose fitting shorts,"I think these should come off." You gulp and grip onto him,"I-I haven't shaved just so you know." Gojo starts pulling down the waistband to the point he could see your bellybutton,"I didn't ask if you shaved,I said these should come off." You gasp as you feel a new pair of hands on your thighs—pulling down the bottom half of the outfit.

Geto looks up at you from the position of him being on his knees;slotted perfectly in between your big thighs. "I agree with Saturo,everything should just come off you." Gojo starts pulling off the hem of your panties and once they're low enough Geto grabs the material and carefully slides them off your legs. He does something unusual,by bringing the damp material to his face and taking a deep inhale. He groans into the panties,eyes closed in bliss and a deep harbored groan flees his lips.

Gojo looks down in jealousy and whines for his other half to hand him the undies. You watch as Geto begrudgingly passes him the undergarment. Gojo brings them to his face and his bright blues eyes almost glow with light as he huffs in the smell of your pussy. "Mate smells so good. Fuck..." You brows furrow in confusion,what did he mean by mate? It's such a primitive and almost animal like to refer to you as that. You don't have much time to think of it though as demand takes all your attention.

"Spread,so we can see that pretty pussy..." The ravenette orders you. You're about to do it but insecurity nags at you,the condition of your unshaven and wild looking pussy drains away at your confidence. What's the point of spreading anyway? The fat of your lips and hair will block the view of anything worth looking at.

"Spread." Gojo repeats. You shake your head no;embarrassment and now common sense are starting to grow back into your brain. Both of the men huff,annoyed with the fact they can't just view the pussy they can smell from miles away,even in water.

For two months since they last fed,they've been so stuck on finding this woman with an unearth like aroma. The being smelt of brown sugar and sweet honey. They've been so determined to find the owner of the scent they've enrolled in this stupid college and kept tabs on you for so long.

Now they have you,almost bare,snagged in their hypnotic touch,yet you won't even let them see what rightfully belongs to them? No. That just won't do.

"Gojo,bring the mirror over here." Immediately the man sitting next to you stands up and retrieves a long floor length mirror to right in front of the bed. You observe yourself in the mirror,tired eyes that look bothered, your flustered face and your slightly messy hair,all the way to your bare lower body.

Why bring the mirror though? Your question is answered when Geto suddenly arises from the floor,taking the space the former was sitting on the bed. His strong hand grips the fatty flesh of your thigh,placing it on his lap. Gojo,now sitting on the opposite side does the same action. You fluster,"What're you doing?" Gojo hums with a happy expression,"Spreading."

They both extend your legs further til your pussy is completely exposed to them in the view of the mirror. "Perfect." Geto says lowly into the cusp of your neck and shoulder. "So pretty,I just wanna lick it." You tensed at the admiration for such a private area,a private area that four pair of eyes are constantly eyeing hungrily.

"So many things we could make you do..." The white haired man suggests. "Mhm,but right now I wanna see her play with it." Geto answers. "P-Play with it?" You try to close your legs back but their grips are too strong on your legs. You couldn't do that—not in front of them. It's embarrassing;being open and exposing yourself raw like that.

Gojo whines,"You're so mean. Trying to close what's rightfully ours. Just play with it...you wanna make yourself feel good,right?" His words and his touch feel like the law,like you have to obey. He didn't say anything overly convincing,yet your body can't help but comply.

Your pudgy digits reach down in between the plump lips—traveling way down to the pulsing hole. The fingers circle the entrance,barely touching the wet flesh. You huff at the light touch,already feeling needy. "It's alright,you can put one in." Geto urges.

You gaze into the mirror,observing the sight of your finger so easily sliding into the welcoming hole. A gasp flees your lips as the appendage starts moving in and out of you. "There you go...keep going."

You obey,moving the lone finger faster and harder than the first few movements. "Fuckkkk,that looks so good. Mate looks so good playing with her pussy." Gojo howls out. Playing with your pussy is not the only view you're able to see in mirror. Gojo and Geto's are in the displaying glass as well;their hard cocks out in the open as they go up and down at the same pace as you.

You bite your lip,immensely turned on by the view of the two men bringing themselves sweet undeniable pleasure. Their hands wander up and down your legs,holding tight the excess flesh you have on the limbs. Geto groans,"Your legs are so pretty,just like the rest of you. So plump and soft. Perfect for giving you so many pups." You moan at his words,adding another digit for the adding bliss.

Blue eyes close in joy,"Oh? You like that? Wanna get pregnant with me and Sugu's babies? Wanna be full of pups?" His hips stutter up into his o shaped hand,"F-Fuck,say yes! Tell us how badly you want that." A whine falls from your babbling mouth,"Want! Need it so bad." Geto groans as he reaches over you to bite into the soft skin of your neck;sinking his teeth in so deep you can feel the light liquid of blood dribble down. Your back arches at the strange sensation that hurts,yet feels oddly so good.

Gojo also goes for a bite,lower though,he finds the spot of your plump shoulder to be perfect. "Mm,you're gonna take it so well when me and Gojo fuck you." The ravenette mumbles into your flesh. His hand travels down to the pouch of your fat that rest slightly above your uterus,he gives it a harsh grasp;fingers digging into the moldable skin. "Perfect,so perfect for giving babies."

Your digits curl into the wet cavern and your body almost folds itself just trying to reach that special spot that resides so deeply in you. You whimper in frustration,your average sized fingers not being just enough to reach that oh so very special spot.

Gojo laughs,"Can't reach? It's okay cutie,me and Sugu will be touching you there all the damn time. Just continue making yourself feel good,yeah? Want you to cum all over your little fingers so I can lick it off." With that bit of encouragement,you thrust deeper;curling the digits so far they're like hooks going into your sloppy cunt.

"Mmmm,look at your cute face. Making such adorable faces in the mirror for us.." Geto hums in your neck,lapping up with rouge from his bite with his slender tongue. Gojo grips your chubby face in his palm,"Right,look at those pudgy cheeks,just wanna bite em." He releases his hold and goes for a gentle nibble on the fat,almost suckling on it like a baby.

With a loud moan,your hand darts out to get a hold on Geto's hair;an action he revels in,loving the harsh pull on the silky strands. "Feels so good." You stammer. "Yeah? That feels good?" Geto purrs. You nod furiously,too caught up in your own pleasure to chatter anymore.

Geto and Gojo experience the same feeling—their eyes are shut in pure anticipation,their pretty swollen tips throbbing to let out the milky substance. You moan louder at the reflection in the mirror;the glass showing you the two men who are so close to falling off the brink of pleasure. The men who just look so desperate to spill all over your spread form.

Faster,harder,deeper is all the thought your mind allows you to even think. Your fingers are working overtime,trying to get over that brink of sweet ecstasy. With one hard thrust,your essence splays all over the mirror,distorting the clear reflection of the glass.

Geto cums soon after,then Gojo. As they do,they make it obvious the cum is all over your body. It mostly splatters on your thighs and your tummy.

You breathe heavily and look at them in astonishment,"Oh my God..."

You couldn't believe it,couldn't believe cumming in front of people you just met,couldn't believe letting them cum all over you,couldn't believe hearing them call you mate and say things like mate—isn't that really weird? You sit up away from the duo and look at them suspiciously. And again you feel more conscious without their touch on you. More like you can clearly think and think logically.

"Why'd you wanna do this with me?" It's accusing,the question,it practically spews suspicion if it wasn't obvious enough. Geto reaches to touch your thigh,but you move away. "Don't touch me. I dunno what's going on with you two...but it's weird."

Gojo chuckles,"Aww,cutie are you feeling nervous? It's okay—" You cut him off with a desperate shout,"Answer my question! Please! Why?"

They look at each other for a few long seconds,thinking about what to say. You know they’re probably thinking about some elaborate lie that won’t even begin to fool you. How could you be so stupid? So easily wooed to do something so very intimate with these strangers? God,could you be anymore stupid?

They don’t give you any answers—no,the much bigger men tackle you onto the bed. Their hands grab all and any appendage that could fight back.

There it is again…that strange drossy feeling. It returns with a revenge time,it no longer feels like a light enjoyable feeling. Now it’s overtaking all your senses,stealing away your conscious mind.

“Sleep. You want to sleep. Sleep. You want to sleep.” Both of the voices chant to you,repeating the phrase over and over again. No! You don’t want to sleep,yet the more the repeat,the more they tell you what you want,the more your eyes begin to sag and you no longer see anything more.

Black.

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“No,Su’ you’re not covering her enough!” The annoyed voice of blue eyed man shouts. Geto huffs,”That’s all we have left in us. We could rub it in to scent her further. Calm down.”

Lips pout out in a childlike manner,”I’m just sayin so we can be careful. So many will probably want out mate,she’s so perfect for pups after all.” A chuckle follows,”You’re so possessive sometimes. No one will want her since we’ve marked her.”

“Oh,I’m possessive? You’re the one who said we should eat everyone just because that little guy friend of her touched her while making an escape. I—“Gojo points to his chest proudly,”just wanted to eat two or three but you got all murdery after he touched her.”

Geto rolls his black irises so far they disappear into the white of his socket,”Whatever. You would’ve ate them all anyways because you’re so damn jealous of others having her attention.” Gojo gasps,offending greatly,”Am not! I don’t get jealous like you!”

Geto laughs amused,knowing exactly how his life long friend works,”Alright,you win.” The white haired man hums triumphantly. Physically saying,”I know that’s right!”

“But are you sure we shouldn’t cum a little more on her?” Gojo cranes his head to look next to him,”No,we have to save some when we cum in her so we fertilize the eggs.” He nods,accepting the answer.

▂▂▂▂▂

When you wake up you’re greeted with the sight of loitering heads hanging above you.

You attempt to yelp only to have a hand roughly clap against your mouth. “Shhh,the yell will only echo in the cave.” A high voice says. Cave? Last time you checked you weren’t in a cave;the last location being a college dorm rooms.

The now known voice of Gojo exclaims,”I’m so happy you’re up though! Me and Geto were getting worried that we’d have to give you pups while you were asleep. Which is no fun cause we can’t hear your pretty little moans like that.” You cringe at his explanation—the thought of being used unconsciously giving you the creeps.

You get more creeped out though,the view of your surroundings not seeming so promising. There’s visible peeled human flesh in the cave,scattered around the stone. And the smell of old iron and rotten flesh takes over your nostrils. Oh God…you fingerfucked yourself in front of a bunch of monsters. And they probably want to eat you next too,just like your friends! Once they’re tired of you, you’re definitely on the menu.

Tears start streaming down your chubby face and your body begins to shake. “Just eat me already! Please don’t play with me and just eat me!” Your pathetic cries are met with laughter. This pauses your sobbing because why are they laughing at you?

“Oh my God! You’re so cute! Eat you? Noo!” Gojo folds over clutching his bare abdomen. Geto joins the laughter,”You’re so silly,we don’t want to eat you! You’re our mate! Imagine that,Gojo? Eating all our future pups like that!” Mate? Pups? These words sound familiar,like the ones they were saying the last time…intimacy happened.

Now that you look them in their true form you see why they chose the verbiage. They have scales matching their hair colors coating all four of their limbs,paired with gills on the neck’s and sides. As they laugh they also show their three rows of flesh piercing teeth. They were definitely some kind of animal like creature. But what?

“So you’re not gonna eat me?” You ask tentatively. Geto nods,”No,we want to make you our mate. That’s why we went through all that trouble of getting you.” Gojo urges in agreement,”Mhm! We just wanna fill you with pups and live with ya forever. And actually,”he lowers his hand down to his bare crotch gripping his already hard cock,”We’ve been meaning to do it soon as we brought you here. But you’re such a sleepyhead we had to wait til you woke up.”

You watch as he gives it a good stroke,looking you up and down as does so. And that’s when you realize you’re completely bare too;with some white milky substance coating your whole body. Another voice joins in,”Mhm,we’ve been dying to get inside you. And I don’t intend on waiting any longer.”

“W-Wait!” You try to protest but it’s no avail,Gojo is already on top of your naked body. Grips and gropes are felt all over from the monster,your chest,your plentiful body,your wide supple hips that sting as his hold won’t get any looser. He licks and bites every fiber in skin in front of him,everything being marked by his rough movements.

Geto comes in front of your laying position,stroking up and down as he watches his companion go feral with his urges. “Warm her up,Satoru. Make her feel good first.” He doesn’t respond verbally,his actions speaking loud enough for him;his mouth moves to suckle on the hard bud on top your breast aching for some type of stimulation.

You moan at the sensation only to be silenced by a passionate kiss from the long haired man. His tongue intertwines with yours creating a languid dance with the pink muscles. Gojo pops off your breast,sounding breathless and needy.

“I don’t wanna wait no more..Wanna be inside.” He whines,already lining up his cock with your soaked entrance. Geto sighs,”Maybe I should fuck her first…I’m more patient.” It’s a loud protest,”NO! Me! Please I want to first.”

You interrupt,swollen mouth readily to spew exactly what you want at this moment,”Just do it. Fuck me.” You don’t know what came over you to say that. Maybe it was their hypnotizing touch? They’re intimidatingly now known power over you? Or perhaps after months of being so harshly ignored you just needed this. Needed to be molded and groomed just to be something again…Whatever it is leads to the man on top of you finally giving into his desires.

With a shaky groan he impales you with his cock. He doesn’t halt nor wait for you to adjust—his urges of breeding being too strong. As he bucks into you he reshapes your legs to his satisfaction,bending them all the way against the fat of your stomach;indulging in the way the soft flesh jiggles with each rough piston of his hips.

“Good! Feel so good!” He howls into the echoing cave. “Look at you,taking it like such a good mate.” Geto purrs,rubbing his now scale textured palm on your soft face. “You see all the faces she makes when you’re fucking her,Saturo?”

“Y-Yeah! So cute!” He thrusts harder into your welcoming cunt,contorting himself to almost nuzzle your face every time he goes in and out of you. You whine and grip onto him,feeling an orgasm coming soon. You face twists into one of awaiting pleasure;the orgasm just teetering away from you.

“She’s about to cum! Go faster!” Geto encourages. Gojo,obliges,each of his harsh thrust definitely leaving bruising marks on the back of thighs and asscheeks.

Every movement is like a symphony—coordinating your final path to pleasure. The instruments? The clapping noises of Gojo prodding your hole roughly and passionately. The applause? The sweet noises you’d let fly past your tongue. And finally with one last shove into you,the orchestrater of your orgasm allowed you to sing his high praises.

You see white,yet Gojo doesn’t stop his hips—No he goes faster until he oozes into you hot white sticky semen. He stiffens for a second then reels back into the cavern,to the point his tip kisses your cervix. He stays in you until an odd sensation travels through your walls.

Orbs or something resembling a sphere fight against the strict wall of your womb. It starts with one,then the second,the the third,and the fourth is when you start to feel the invasion of whatever is being deposited in you.

“W-What’s going on?” Geto leans down and kisses your plump cheek,”Gojo’s giving you his pups. Don’t worry it’ll only hurt when they try to get into your womb,but you’re such a good mate you’ll take all of them.”

“A-All of them?” The reparation doesn’t help with understanding the idea. “All of them! And then you’re gonna take Sugu’s too! Isn’t that great?” Gojo joyfully informs you.

Your brain and body hurts so you simply just nod,pretending like you know what they mean. You’re tired. So tired that you lean into Geto’s gentle cupping of your face,closing your eyes;letting the two beings do whatever they want at this point.

Allowing yourself to be totally and wholly consumed by them.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED 🫶🏽🫶🏽 tysm for reading

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reignpage · 27 days ago

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Restrained Beast

in which you tie up boyfriend!Konig

warnings: 18+ mdni, rope, bondage, cursing, suffocation, size kink, power play, slight dubcon, cowgirl, missionary, spitting, primal, prey, slight dacryphillia

the universe had blessed you with a once in a lifetime gift in the form of your big and strong boyfriend finally allowing you to tie him up. it was quite ridiculous actually, wrestling him into position, straddling his bare chest as you tied a rope around his wrists, looping it through the gap in your headboard. konig was a huge man, he took up the entire expanse of your bed, and you weren’t confident the rope would hold him.

if he wasn’t so compliant, there was no way you would have ever managed to lift even just one arm into position; it weighed a ton. he was pure muscle, carved from years of military service, crafted to be the perfect battering ram. every flex could kill, he could smother you in your sleep with his heavy torso, even step on you if he wasn’t so careful. and god, did you love it.

he was pure strength, the perfect killer, and yet there he was, peering up at you with a light blush and a small smile. his blond chest hair was coarse under your palms as you met his stare with a grin. konig had needed a little convincing to agree to your idea; in fact, it required a lot of begging and promises that you’d make it worth his while.

the concept of being suppressed went against every instinct in his body, but how could he say no to his beautiful girl? so cute and so sweet, politely asking with big eyes and a pout. he wanted to make you happy, always. so there he was, lying patiently, completely naked under you. he tested the rope and felt pride warming his chest (and his cock) at his angel who clearly did her research, wanting to do it right, for him.

“schatz, ride my cock, ja?”

said cock was pointing to the ceiling, perfectly proportionate to his gigantic stature. it was always a struggle getting him inside you; you needed a lot of foreplay, and konig was more than happy to oblige every time. he would spend hours focused on you, making you ride his thigh, fingers, and face. he worshiped your pussy like it was the holy grail, lapping at your essence as if he couldn’t get enough.

he overstimulated you every time, but you knew he didn’t mean to, right? you knew he just had a tendency to get lost in the taste of you, your scent overwhelmed him, and oh how he loved the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing his head. and when you would pull his hair in a desperate attempt to make him stop, his eyes would roll back before pinning down your frantic hips with an arm thrown over your stomach, diving back in with greater fervour.

you bit your lip, nodding shyly as you scooted down his body, soaking pussy grazing his stomach. it made his happy trail shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. you loved the hair, the feeling of it tickling you, the way it was barely visible unless you were pressed right to his crotch, and you often were.

quickly rubbing your clit, you exhaled, physically and mentally preparing yourself to take him again. no matter how many times you had played with that part of him, you never got over how intimidating his cock was. everything about him was intimidating, it was one of the reasons he rarely left your shared home; people always stared.

clutching his cock, you lined him up with your quivering hole, gulping as you pushed down. a pleasurable burn made you hiss, head thrown back as you heaved. every inch made you fuller and fuller until you felt like you couldn’t take any more, but one glance down and you realised you weren’t even half way down.

how was that even possible?

“all of it, maus.”

you shook your head in a panic, your fight or flight instincts triggered.

“ja, you can take it. you always do.”

könig pulled at his restraints with more force than he had intended, rattling the bed frame. he was itching to touch you, to blanket your tits with his palm and pinch at your nipples. the man wanted to feel your skin, pull your front down against him so he could kiss you, smother your whines with his mouth and push down every protest with his tongue.

god, he just wanted to grip your hips and pull you down till he was buried to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix in the way he knew you loved. konig had been on edge the entire time, he wasn’t used to not being in control, not like this, where he was completely helpless.

but knowing he was at your mercy made him leak pre-cum like a faucet.

eventually, with lots of praise and encouragement, he was in. you needed a second to adjust, to will away that burn as he stretched you to your limits, split you in half.

he might have complained when you initially brought it up, but you could tell he loved this just as much as you did if the incessant throbbing inside of you was anything to go by. his skin was cool to the touch, his sweat making it

slightly difficult to get a grip but you persevered, lifting your hips a little before letting gravity do its thing in an experimental stroke. it lit a fire inside of you and you knew you needed more.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“just - hah- like that, schatz.”

“fuck, liebling, so good -ngh- for me.”

his every praise and groan fuelled your thrusts and grinding, ignoring the ache of your muscles, intent only in making both of you cum. and with the way the head of his cock was pressing against that spongey spot inside of you, you weren’t going to take long.

könig threw his head back when you lifted your hips as high up as you could before slamming down with a splat, juices flying and making both of your skin sticky. a white ring of cum was forming around his base and he would watch it dribble down all day if he could.

your sobs were music to his ears, so breathy and uninhibited, he couldn’t believe he was making you feel that way. never thought he’d have such a good girl loving his monstrous body, obsessed with his freak of a nature stature, but there you were, a blissed out expression on your face as you held your tits in your hands, muttering his name again and again.

like a plea thrown in the wind, you heard your name calling to you through the fog of pleasure. konig was looking up at you in the way he always did when he wanted one thing. the realisation that he wanted every part of you made you clench down on him, and you both moaned.

and of course, how could you disappoint your precious boyfriend? so you lean closer to him, breaths mingling as you teased him with a graze of your lips against his. he opened his mouth, but you couldn't help yourself; you swerved to the right and sucked at his skin, at the junction where his shoulders met his neck. he was so much bigger than you, you had to stretch to reach his chin.

he tasted salty and clean, like a glacier. he tasted like the love of your life. and you didn't think you'd ever get your fill. only his cockhead sheathed in your warm pussy; you had to climb the expanse of his body to reach you destination and when he growled your name, you knew you couldn't tease him any longer.

so with a playful scold, you gave him a love tap on his cheek, giggling at the flutter of his lashes. thumbing his plush bottom lip, you drawled, "open wide, koni baby."

and without looking away, you spat into his mouth and watched enthralled at the hasty swallow. there was no hesitation, no reluctance. only pure satisfaction as he pulled at his restraints again. it was like he had forgotten his predicament, so caught in your taste and smell, and the way your hips were swivelling around the head of his cock as you leaned back, pussy greedily swallowing his entire length once again.

you were so close, mewls getting louder and higher, whining every time your clit rubbed the hair on his pelvis just right, and pinching your nipples the way he would. he wanted to bring you there, wanted both of you to reach your high, and he couldn’t wait. no, he was desperate, needed you to move faster, to slam on his cock harder, just the way you like, the way you needed him to.

perhaps, if either of you weren’t so caught up in the maddening hedonism, then you would heard the creaking of fibres being pulled apart.

riding his cock wantonly, you moaned like a siren, uncaring about the neighbours who were no doubt in the middle of filing a complaint. again. and when konig jutted his hips upwards, you moaned even louder, stars sparkling behind closed eyes. you could feel him everywhere and yet it wasn't enough.

“kon, so close, ‘m so close.”

snap!

you barely registered it over the cacophony of your moans, the squeaking of the bed and the slamming of the headboard. but the big hands suddenly grasping your hips in an unforgiving grip was unmistakable, and when he lifted you up and heaved you down, a scream being rammed out of you, you knew your big bad boyfriend had broken free of his restraints.

anyone else would have feared for their lives, having a ferocious beast be on the loose, but you barely had time to think about the terrifying glint in his eyes before he was throwing you onto your back and jackhammering into your sopping pussy like he was battering through the heaviest door.

you were speechless, mouth hanging open in a perpetual o shape as your eyes rolled back, hands clutching at the sheets and then at his shoulders, clawing down his back. you needed to ground yourself, it was too much too fast, but you had nowhere to go, his body was pinning you down, your face buried in his chest. konig was suffocating you, chest hair tickled your face as you gasped, and he was knocking all the air out of your lungs with every merciless thrust.

he was using your body like a flashlight, not a single regard for your pleasure or your life. it was exhilarating. only he could drag you to the edge of life and make you feel so much pleasure you forgot your name.

“cum for me, schatz. need you to cum on my cock.”

you screamed into his chest, eyes screwed shut as waves and waves of rapture washed over you, dragging you in an undercurrent of euphoria and pure ecstasy. his lips stuttered at the feel of your cunt squeezing his cock, wringing a sudden orgasm out of him. konig roared, plunging into you with one final jab, cum pulsing out of him, painting your insides white. it burned your insides, a gasp grazing past your lips.

it was always so so so good with him. every. time. you were addicted. just as he was. now that he had a taste of what it was like to be restrained, you hoped he would want to do it again. although, you felt personally offended it didn’t last as long as you expected; he had broken free so easily, it was insulting.

he huffed a laugh in your ear when he felt you pout. konig kissed every inch of skin he could reach whilst keeping his softening cock inside of you, a silent thank you for giving him more happiness and pleasure than he thought he deserved.

“you need to tie it harder next time, ja, maus? make it more difficult for me.”

damn right you’d make it more difficult for him.

cocky austrian.

#18+ mdni #konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #Konig oneshot #konig x you #konig call of duty

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shy-writer-999 · 1 month ago

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Summary: Ace wants to try something new, but any time he's deep inside of you his possessive streak takes over. ~1.9k words. Mildly edited, I'll come back for a second round soon!

CW: Afab reader, cockwarming, possessiveness, pet names (“princess” used once), P in V.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

“Do you know what cockwarming is?” Ace looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh… I think so. Wouldn’t that mean you just put your cock in me but… we don’t move or fuck, really?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Wanna try?”

“Well, does that mean I get to fuck you after?”

He flashed a smile. “Sure.”

Many minutes later, after Ace fingered you and ate you out, you sunk down onto his cock. You were straddling him while he sat in a chair, bare chests pressed together, and your face in the crook of his neck. His cock was buried deep inside, unmoving.

Ace was doing something, but the memory of that night is foggy, distorted by pleasure. He must have been reading, writing, polishing his belt buckle, fixing his beaded necklace, something like that. He was working on something while you drifted in and out of sleep.

Ace felt warm and comforting inside and the experience was intimate. He smelled good and you could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. You felt safe, like you usually did around him, and you napped like that for a while.

Time passed and Ace finished whatever he was doing. One of his hands started to pet your hair, and his other hand came to rest on your hips. “Hey, gorgeous.” He murmured, stirring you awake. “You doing ok?”

You pulled away from where you were nestled in his neck and looked at him with sleepy eyes. “Mmhmm.” You forgot that his cock was inside of you for a second—you had gotten used to the sensation. But you were quickly reminded when Ace rocked his hips up, just slightly.

He pulled you closer and your lips met—you could tell he was smiling through his kisses, in excitement for what he was about to do to you, as well as pure adoration. Another slight push of his hips upwards and your core started to tingle and pulse around him.

He hummed in response. “I can feel that, baby. Does it feel good when I do this?” On the last word, he pushed his hips up again, cock pressing your g-spot as you let out another muted gasp. The warmth the pressure inside of you quickly turned to full-fledged heat, in two senses of the word. First, you were buzzing with pleasure already. He knew how to coax it out of you effortlessly. And second, you could tell he was literally warming you up inside, putting his devil fruit powers to good use, as he always did.

“Mmmmm, Ace.”

More kisses. They got intense, sloppier. His tongue pushed past your lips and prodded into your mouth; he reached a hand up to rest tangled in your hair. Every roll of his hips upwards felt electric.

“Fuck,” he pulled away and a string of spit connected your lips. “Your pussy feels like it was made for me.”

Ace had a possessive streak and it showed, in full force, whenever his cock was in you. It was a projection of how much he cherished you and how much he wanted to be cherished. You both knew that he was all yours and you were all his. Even so, he got off on reminding you in bed. Something about it really got him going.

We can speculate, but it must have to do with how badly he wanted to be loved and needed. He ate up the fact that he could be as possessive with you as he wanted, and you never said no to him (because every word he said was true). It was, among other things, one of the most intense and purely emotional sides of Ace, this all-encompassing need for you and your affection.

He relished the fact that no one else had you in any way—no one else knew you as well, no one else knew how you liked to be treated, no one else loved you like he did (and no one else ever would).

And tonight, his possessiveness was emphasized. Earlier that evening, the whole crew had been at a bar. It always drove Ace fucking nuts to see how every man in the room eyed you like a piece of meat. It pissed him off that they objectified you, eyes stuck on your figure any time you moved or any time your smile beamed. But what had been particularly worse about this night was that both of you had been chatted up.

A gorgeous young woman had grabbed Ace by the hand and dragged him to the other side of the bar when you were distracted. He tried to be polite, but he couldn’t focus. He was watching you get flirted with out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t seem to care that Ace was over in some dim corner with a random woman (he knew that you did care but you trusted him, so you weren’t that bothered). But Ace could see that the man chatting you up was being handsy—the guy did that classic and creepy hand-touching-the-small-of-your-back move that made you cringe in obvious discomfort.

So, Ace left the woman he was speaking with as she was in the middle of a word. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.” He smiled painfully and practically bolted across the room, putting a hand between you and the creepy man and prying him off of you. “You’ve got the wrong idea, bud.”

Suffice to say, he got into a bar fight. But “fight” wouldn’t really be the right word for it. The second that Ace held a flaming finger in front of the creep’s face, the man ran out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs, as they say.

But back to the moment at hand. Ace’s possessive streak was shining more than usual on account of the dual flirtation by randoms mere hours before. While Ace pressed his cock up into you with each second that passed, he reminded you that you were each other’s.

“You’re the only one for me, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear. He only had eyes for you, only ever wanted you, and it would stay that way. “You’re mine.”

As Ace grinded into you, he used the leverage of his hands on your hips to push you down on his cock, hitting every spot he possibly could. Your arousal started to trickle down his shaft and onto his balls.

“Tell me who you belong to, princess.” Ace cooed in your ear. His desperate grunts accompanied wet sounds of you bouncing on his cock.

“You, Ace. Only you.” You whined as his pace increased. Each time his tip pushed on your gooey, sensitive soft, it felt like fireworks of pleasure lit inside of you. Your walls throbbed in time with his cock, driving him crazier.

His lips left a trail of kisses down the curve of your neck. Sinking his teeth down, he bit your shoulder, leaving a sunken crescent of teeth marks. A sign that you were his. The pain wasn’t too bad (though you yelped anyway), dulled by the fact that he was fucking you senseless. He lapped at the bite mark as if that would make the pain go away. When you whimpered in reply, his cock twitched.

“Look at me, pretty. Say my name.”

You made an effort to lock eyes with him, but you almost couldn’t look straight. “Ace. Ace, fuck. Feels so good.” The only word for the desire-riddled expression looking back at you would be ravenous.

As his name fell from your lips in a constant stream, your fingernails dug into the skin on his back—it felt great and encouraged him to thrust faster.

His precum wept inside of you, pearlescent and hotter than usual. He slammed frenzied, erratic thrusts that made you start to seize up with pleasure. You could barely speak, and you gave up on holding yourself upright, choosing instead to rest your face in his neck again.

“Wanna be with you forever, baby. You’re mine. All—mine.” He rasped in your ear, low and husky. Oozing desire from your cunt seeped down his shaft and onto the chair below; obscene noises echoed in the room as more filth left his lips.

Ace was out of breath, fucking you so hard and fast that he forgot to breathe. He choked out words between animalistic groans. “You’re so fuckin’ tight for me, sweetheart. Only—ever—for—me.”

The orgasmic coil inside of you was about to snap; you gave up on answering him and instead babbled, nodded, and moaned into his neck. He could tell that you were getting close from the way your walls shuddered around his shaft, the way that your muscles were starting to tense up and spasm.

“Cum for me, angel. Show me how good it feels. Show me whose pussy this is.” Ace almost couldn’t get the words out; he was heaving breaths and his mind was in a haze of desire. He needed to know that you were all his, that he was the only person you ever wanted. He needed to hear it before he let go. He was dying for you, feral for you, down bad for you in ways that words can’t describe.

“Ace—Ace, fuck, I’m—I’m cumming, Ace,” you keened his name and arched your back as he bucked his cock up into you. He deliberately controlled the heat of his shaft and flashed it blazing hot just for a second while he pressed on your g-spot forcefully with his swollen tip—it was too much.

Your orgasm exploded, euphoric and intense. You writhed on him in pleasure, convulsing over his cock with harsh squeezes.

That was what he wanted. Only he could ever do that to you.

His hips jerked one last time as he felt your walls squeeze and beg him for his cum. A guttural moan left his lips as he came deep inside of you—you could feel him filling you up in milky white ropes, dripping out of your slit and coating his shaft and balls.

With a long groan and exhale, Ace rested his head next to yours as he came down from his climax. His arms wrapped around you to bring you into a closer embrace as his heartbeat struggled to return to normal.

When he loosened his embrace slightly after a few minutes, he brought your face to his with gentle palms and started to nuzzle his nose on yours, radiating affection so strongly that you could feel it in your heart. His freckles popped out through the hues of pink and red that flushed his cheekbones.

Sighing in contentment with his cock still resting inside of you, both his hands cupped your cheeks, and his thumbs caressed your skin. “God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t get enough of you. Fuck. Will you be mine forever, baby?”

You laughed and the sound made his heart twist and flutter. A slight roll of your eyes accompanied your tone of feigned annoyance. “Yes, Ace. You always ask this, and the answer is always yes.”

“Okay, just checking.” He kissed every part of your skin that he could access until it tickled. “Are you still sleepy? Wanna go to bed?”

woowwww this was a fun one, omg. im down egregiously bad for him. if this man was real, i would do things to him so much that he wouldn't be able to walk for a week. pulling out all the stops. unhinging the jaw and whatnot. i can't describe how bad i want this man it's honestly pathetic at this point 😭😭😭😭

thank u so much for reading! here's my masterlist and my posting schedule for october.

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

#z's kinktober #one piece smut #op smut #one piece x reader #op x reader #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d. ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #op ace #one piece ace #one piece ace smut #fire fist ace #ace one piece

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flkwh0re · 9 months ago

Text

Team Player

Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding

A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭

Word count: 1,568

Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.

That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.

It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.

Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.

As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.

“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.

“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.

What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.

Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.

“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”

After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”

You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.

Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.

She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.

Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”

A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.

“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.

“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.

“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.

Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.

Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.

Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.

Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.

Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.

She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.

Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.

Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.

“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.

You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.

With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”

You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.

Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.

She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.

“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.

Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.

Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.

You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.

Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.

Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.

Masterlist

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chiscaralight · 2 months ago

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Scaramouche x fatui! Harbinger reaader and reader is a higher rank than him.. Ive seen this a couple times before and it has me soaked everytime.

hehehehehhe nsfw balladeer!scara x reader. feels like i havent written for my stink in years. slight degradation?

this should be so embarrassing—it shouldn't even be happening. but why does it feel so good if it wasn't meant to be? why do you constantly find yourself wandering into his chambers in the dead of night so he can have his way with you? or more importantly, why was it so important today that you couldn't even wait for the moon to rise?

the reason will remain unknown to you, but the balladeer remains the answer. your front is pressed flat against his desk, bottom half completely exposed as he pounds into you with that sinister smile you don't even have to look back to see. shit, you're a higher rank than him, you should be the one bending him over! but with the way his cold fingers are pressing against the fat of your hips, dragging your body back into his as he hits that spot that makes you cry out his name with each thrust.

his speed is dizzying, and his grip on your hair is inhumane. the balladeer's lips are mere centimeters away from your ears, sickly spitting about how stupid you look going dumb on his cock. you're quick to oppose him in meetings and speak out on almost everything he lays down. but you take every single thrust he gives like it was your only purpose. such a big, bad harbinger like you getting their brain fucked out by someone lower ranked, what would your subordinates think, hm?

but his words hold no weight to you once his mouth finds your neck because you're already writhing from the pleasure of the bites he's adorning you with. he's freeing one of his hands to stretch it down, barely bumping his nimble fingers against your clit. your hand is flying towards his, desperately trying to get more touch out of him, but he only laughs. the fact you think you have any sort of power here is so amusing; pitiful actually.

"m-my lord! i was told to deliver some documents to you from Childe."

the voice behind the door is muffled by the thick wood, but the words are loud and clear. your eyes widen at the thought of seeing you like this, but the balladeer is faster. your face is being pressed into the material of his desk as his eyes meet yours and his voice is a low whisper.

"aww, are you scared of your subordinates seeing you so useless? what if I was to let him in and see you like this?"

you're not sure if the tears welling in your eyes are from how sensitive you're getting or the reputation riding on your head was about to be damaged, but the silent plea of your eyes is enough for him to barely bite back a smile. pure fear, that's one thing he doesn't get to see so much from you. so in exchange for this euphoric feeling you've given him, he'll spare you just this once.

"bring them back tomorrow. i'm busy."

"but my lord, the eleventh-"

"will the eleventh bring you back to life once i rid your body of life?"

"i-i will be back tomorrow, my lord."

the padding away of feet has your mouth opening in a relieved breath. but you're more concerned about why the man behind you has stilled his movements.

the balladeer is more than convinced that since he helped you such a great amount, you owe him something—a show. which is why he's leaned back on the large seat in his office with you completely bare, bouncing on him like some cheap whore. you're not sure what's more humiliating; the fact that he's still practically fully clothed or the shameless staring at you. eyes raking over your body as you move on top of him. your nails are digging into the fabric resting on his shoulders for balance, but the way his hands are holding your waist is more than enough to keep you in place.

but you are much too slow for his liking today, and he wants to pump you full as much as possible, as soon as possible. so he's almost throwing you down, pushing your leg up, and sliding back in with ease. his kiss is as harsh as he is, full of moans and tongues clashing, but it only fuels that heat in your belly as he picks up his pace. you're whining about how you need to cum, begging pathetically for your release. the only answer you get is rough circles to your clit once again as your eyes roll back, noises being silenced by the balladeer's other free hand pressing against your mouth. after all the stupid crying you do, you do absolutely nothing to actually try to shut the slightest bit up from your orgasm, so annoying.

he'll shake you awake, then tell you to fuck off from his office. you'll redress in silence and head for the door, but hell stop you just before you leave. before you can question, his lips are hot on yours once again, pressing your back against the wood as you slide your hands into his hair. you can swear you hear him groan as you grind your hips forward, but he'll pull back regardless. his fingers will adjust the collar of your shirt you can never seem to get right, then usher you out once the large hall is clear. he'll stare at the spot you just left, eyes practically burning holes in the carpet with a strong scowl on his face. he can still feel your skin against yours and it pisses him off. he misses it.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #gi smut #scaramouche smut #scara smut #balladeer smut #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #scara x reader smut

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slut4hee · 2 months ago

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Piece Of Cake 𐙚🧸ྀི

{Paring: Hyungline x Fem! Reader 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

{Genre: pure smut, just hyungline being munches ᡣ𐭩

{Synopsis: In which you asked hyunline to eat your a$$

{Warnings: pussy eating, ass eating, anal play, fingering, unprotected sex, just some freak ass shit okay! Mentions of breeding, mentions of kinks.

୨ৎ’ 𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮

You and Heeseung had tried many things in the bedroom together, from bondage and sex toys, to cosplaying as the characters of the PC game you both loved so much. But not once did you guys ever do anything involving your anal, so when you suddenly asked him to eat your ass, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little caught off guard by your request, but at the same time very intrigued by it.

“Y-you want me to eat your ass?” He said breathless, bringing his head up from being buried between your legs, your arousal dripping down his chin. You instantly got a little shy and embarrassed, already regretting even asking him to do something like that out of nowhere, but you couldn’t help your hidden desire to feel his heavily tongue licking and fucking your tight puckered hole.

“I-It’s just an idea, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable Hee, I just thought maybe we could tr-“ before you could even finish your sentence, Heeseung quickly manhandled you and flipped you over into all fours. You gasped when you felt him land a harsh smack to your asscheek then spread them both apart. You bit your lip in anticipation, as he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth onto your asshole, as he gently rubs his thumb around your rim.

You whimpered when he sunk his rough thumb inside your rim, slowly inching in & out of your tight little asshole. “Fuck such a tight little greedy hole you have here baby” he groaned as he watched your tight puckered hole struggle to accommodate the size of his thumb fucking you open.

“F-fuck Hee, hurts but feel so good” you screamed in pain and pleasure, not once did you think that it would be this fucking good, I mean you knew anything Heeseung did to you in the bedroom was remarkable, but this was on some next level shit. You gripped the sheets as Heeseung replaced his thumb with his index finger, fingering your tight little hole at a much faster pace, you couldn’t take it anymore you needed to feel his tongue deep inside your ass right now.

“Daddy p-please! Need your tongue in my ass” you begged shamelessly, wanting nothing more but for him to fulfill your long awaited dirty desire. Heeseung could explode in his pants right now, just from your begging and the snug feeling of your hole wrapped around his digit, but he doesn’t want to make his princess wait any longer, always so eager to fulfill your wishes.

“Awee does my naughty little girl want my tongue in her ass, such a nasty little slut begging for me to eat her pretty little ass” he cooed at you, before landing another harsh smack to your asscheek before burying his face into your ass. You moaned out loud, gripping the sheets roughly as Heeseung licked and swirled his tongue around your asshole, eating your booty like it’s a full course meal.

He slid his long wet muscle inside your tight puckered hole, tasting what you have to offer, and tongue fucking your asshole like it was his cock. You let out a string of curses and loud whimpers, as you look back to see Heeseung’s face buried between your asscheeks, and the sight is so sinful yet so fucking hot, it’s everything you imagined it would be.

“𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗧 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬,𝗪𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗥”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

୨ৎ’ 𝑱𝑨𝒀

Everything about you and Jay’s relationship was vanilla, the sex was vanilla, and the way Jay treated you in and outside of bed was just very fucking 𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑨. But don’t get me wrong, you loved how soft and gentle Jay was, in fact Jay was the sweetest and most loving man you ever been with.

But sometimes you craved something more extreme in bed, you craved for him to dominate you, just straight up slut you out. So that’s how you found yourself asking Jay to fulfill one of your dirtiest desires you hid from him for a while, being that Jay has never really been into kinks, in fact Jay was all about slow sensual and passionate love making. You both were currently in your shared bedroom, you on top of Jay as you rode his cock nice and slow just how he liked it.

Jay’s back rested against the Black Velvet headboard, as he held onto your waist, letting out soft and quiet moans as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth. Of course it felt good to ride your man’s cock but sometimes you just wanted to go a little faster and maybe a little harder, but Jay always stopped you and always responded with “just take your time sweetheart, we have all night” so finally you decided enough is enough, and you’re going to get what you want tonight.

“Jay baby, I was wondering if we could maybe try something new in bed tonight?” you halted your movements, nervously sitting up straight, rubbing your hands down his chest softly. Jay also sat up straighter, still holding onto your waist, as he looked at you a little bit taken back by your sudden change of demeanor.

“Is everything alright my love, is it not feeling good?” Jay sounded so concerned, also a little nervous and insecure. You melted at his genuine concern for you and you almost felt bad for asking him something like this out of nowhere, but you couldn’t deny your desires any longer.

“I-it’s just, i think maybe we should take our sex life to the next level, you know try different things and maybe you being a little more rougher with me that’s all darling” you bit your lip nervously, hoping you won’t upset Jay with your sudden need of wanting to boost your bedroom experiences.

“You think our sex life is boring right? You think my way of having sex is lame don’t you?” He gulped, his voice carrying vulnerability and uncertainty. You immediately felt bad and leaned down to hug your boyfriend tightly, you didn’t mean for him to take that way.

“Oh god baby No, I didn’t mean in that way sweetie, of course you make me feel good, but you could make me feel even more better if we introduced a few more things in the bedroom” you reassured him, kissing all over his face. He smiled brightly at you, already feeling better from your sincere and loving words.

“So what did you have in mind baby ?” He asked you, looking at you full of affection and ready to fulfill your wish. You swallowed nervously, of course it would be something so extreme that you are wanting him to do in the beginning. You sat up straight again, as you prepared yourself for the worst.

“Ugh F-fuck Jongseong, just like that shittt” you moaned loudly as Jay had his face buried between your plump asscheeks, eating your ass like a starved caveman. He groaned against your tight puckered hole, the vibration from it, has you clenching your pussy around nothing, feeling so damn good from your boyfriend tongue fucking your gaping hole.

“𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁, 𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱, 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

୨ৎ’ 𝑱𝑨𝑲𝑬

Jake was by far the nastiest, freakiest, and sexiest man you ever been with. You never met someone with such a high sex drive quite like Jake in your life. In fact it was almost abnormal how many rounds he could last in the bedroom, dick staying hard after cumming multiple times already. Also not to mention, this man is the 𝑷𝑼𝑺𝑺𝒀 𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, the biggest munch of them all so there’s no surprise when Jake reacted the way he did, when you asked him to eat your ass.

“Fuck mama you serious? You want me to eat your sweet little ass?” He smirked in amusement, acting like an excited little puppy who’s getting offered their favorite treat. You hummed in agreement, still feeling weak from the three orgasms he’s pulled outta you.

“Yes Jakey, want to feel your tongue deep inside my ass” you moaned, your pussy clenching around his digits that’s currently scissoring in & out of your fluttering tight walls. Jake growled, as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy and flipped you around like you weighed nothing.

“Come on baby, bring that ass here” he softly patted you on the butt, to get you to move closer to him. You got on all fours, positioning your ass in the air, as you moved back closer to him, your ass now in his face. Jake bit his lip harshly, as he admired how perfect your plump booty was, and your tight little puckered hole winking at him.

“Fuckk, look at you all ready for me to devour, shit you’re so sexy baby” he landed a harsh smack to your left asscheek, before leaning down kiss it. He gently sunk his teeth into your asscheek, taking a little bite at it before burying his face between your asscheeks. He exhaled as he took a good sniff of your aroma and he groaned at the heavenly smell.

“Fucking hell baby, smell so damn good” he smirked against hole before extending his tongue out to lick your tight rim. You screamed out in pleasure, overwhelmed by the feeling of his tongue circling your asshole.

“Oh my god yunie, fuck that feels fantastic” you whimpered, gripping the sheets tightly as Jake ate your booty like it was his last meal on earth. You looked back to see Jake face buried deep into your ass, you bit your lip at the unholy sight, Jake was having the time of his life as he rub his face all between your cheeks, rotating between eating your pussy and tongue fucking your asshole.

“𝗛𝗼𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗹”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

୨ৎ’ 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑵

You never thought sex could be so damn good until you met Sunghoon. You were a bit inexperienced as well when you two first met, so he introduced you into a lot of different ways you could please him in the bedroom. Sunghoon was a man of kinks, he loved to breed you full, and he loved that he was so much bigger than you, towering over you as he fucked you in missionary.

As time went by, you grew to become just as kinky as he is, trying out new kinks every week in your shared bedroom. You just couldn’t get enough of how good sex was with Sunghoon, always craving his touch and wanting to be under him, just like now you’re currently getting your back blown out, by your very handsome boyfriend.

“Fuck doll, pussy so good” he grunted, as he delivered brutal thrusts to your pussy, completely rearranging your guts. You screamed out in pleasure, at the feeling of his long girthy cock penetrating your gummy walls, you looked back to see Sunghoon fucking you senseless, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“Ohhh yess, hoonie you’re so deep feels so fucking good” you whimpered at the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis, Sunghoon groaned at the sight of it, licking his lips like he’s starving, truly something out of a porno film, as he continued his assault on your wet dripping pussy.

You watched as Sunghoon licked his lips and stuck his tongue out, as he concentrated on making you feel good, but couldn’t help but think about the dirty little fantasy you been fantasizing about for a long time now. Sunghoon noticed you clenching around his dick tighter than usual, he let out a deep groan as he slowed his slowed his movements.

“Fuck baby, what you thinking about, that’s got you clenching around me like crazy” he panted, kneading the fat of your ass, as he continued to fuck you deep and hard” you whined at his deep strokes, drool dripping from your mouth as you struggled to speak.

“H-Hoon, want you to eat my ass” you slurred your words, floating on cloud nine as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot over and over. Sunghoon halted his movements and stared at you with an intense gaze, you immediately snapped out of your lust filled trance, looking at him nervousl feeling like you took it too far but instead, Sunghoon chuckles darkly, as withdraw his cock from your pussy, and got on his knees on the bed.

“Wow darling, that’s one naughty request but what can I say, you learned from the best” and with that he buries his face between your asscheeks, not giving you any time to think before he’s eating your ass like his life’s on the line. You arched your back, as you feel the pleasure of his tongue licking and fucking your ass, and his index finger, plunging inside your pussy.

You were simply obsessed with fucking Sunghoon, and you weren’t ashamed to say it, in fact if he told you to scream it to the world you would in a heartbeat. You never thought a tongue in your asshole would feel this damn good, or maybe it’s because it’s Sunghoon’s tongue in your asshole.

“𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵”

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

A/n: I’ve decided to bless you all with one of my works, that’s been just sitting in my drafts😭 teeheee I’m still sick as dog and I miss writing so much but omg yall I’m sorry but i had to i just freaking had to make write Hyungline being munches and eating ass sorry not sorry 😚 this was too hot! Divider creds to @anitalenia

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shoeistars · 11 months ago

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— NO PHOTOS ! pt. 1

༺ feat. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi

༺ outline. where the boys keep their slutty polas of you <3

༺ w. pro!players, 18+ content, minors dni, photos/polas, fem!reader, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise <3

༺ pt. 2 (reo, barou, rin, sae, shidou)

— ISAGI ! on the back of his phone

Oh, he’s obsessed with this one polaroid you let him take, his cock slotted between your pretty tits. Your nails sparkled in the photo due to the flash, acrylics all shiny as you held your breasts together to keep him nice and snug

That night was one where he had earned himself a big win, the celebration you gave him was timeless. Your face was all sticky, smeared in pearly cum and runny spit, little bubbles all around the corner of your mouth

Clear case and all, everyone can get a good look at his favorite girl, see just how much of a cockslut she was with a fat dick between her tits and a pearly smile on her face

— BACHIRA ! shoebox

As deranged as Bachira is, he likes to keep you for his eyes only. That being said, the Nike shoebox that’s stored under his bed is full of filth, softcore porn, downright sin

Pictures of your leaking cunt just pumping cream all over the base of his thick cock, pictures of your fucked out face all flushed and dazed. Constant memories that he happens to keep ahold of for lonely nights

There’s enough to nearly fill up the big black box that once held his soccer cleats, so full that the lid can’t even fit on properly to do its job. It’s a tradition for him to snap a shot of you when he’s got you cockdrunk, after all

— CHIGIRI ! trendy altoids wallet box

Did we expect anything else from our artsy princess? He follows trends and those metal altoid mint boxes aren’t an exception, he carries it around with him at all times, decorated to perfection

He’s got tons of miscellaneous shit in there, ranging from a mini bottle of fragrance, a roll of tums, a fortune slip from the fortune cookies the two of you got at the local chinese restaurant in your area

Oh, but his favorite item is taped at the top of the box, sealed in place with a hello kitty sticker. A polaroid of you with his cock down your throat, taking it so deep that you can see the outline in your esophagus. He just so happens to be pressing a palm flat against, Chigiri was real proud of you that night

— KUNIGAMI ! scrapbook

A man of class, really. He’d hate to see all of those precious photos of his princess getting damaged or scratched, his best bet was getting a plain book to store each pola in their own plastic slots

They’re even organized, ranging from you sucking his cock, to your back turned to him as he’s plowing your guts from behind, to you on your knees with glossy nut covering every goddamn inch of your body

It’s his prized possession, stuffed in his bookshelf next to all of his old soccer books and manga. A good flip through is enough to make him chub up in his joggers

— NAGI ! playstation

That playstation was damn expensive, he’d be a fucking fool to not add a breathtaking picture of you bouncing on his dick like it’s your lifeline. It’s taped with washi tape, front and center for him to look at anytime he’s within reach of his console

You’re purely glowing in the photo, the sheen of sweat he got you worked up in making your skin glisten like a goddess. The flash managed to catch the details of his veined up arm as he wrapped a huge hand around your throat

He’s obsessed with the expression on your face too, brows furrowed and jaw slacked with a fat glob of spit dripping past your lips like a hungry dog. His girl was a whore for big dick, a fact that made him smirk lazily when it crossed his mind

#bllk smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #isagi smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #chigiri x reader #chigiri smut #kunigami x reader #kunigami smut #nagi x reader #nagi smut

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kamiversee · 9 months ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 11 || The Thorn and The Petal

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"WELL, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT he's my professor, I thought it'd be pretty obvious that he's one of the hardest on the list." Gojo's voice flew through your ear.

You had him on the phone as you lay on your stomach across your bed. Talking to him is something you want to limit as much as possible but you can't try anyone on the list completely blindsided so, sadly, you still need him.

"Then there's Nanami. As far as I know, he's not interested in sleeping with just anyone-- you'll most likely have to get to know him a bit." Gojo explains. You're taking little notes of this in a journal of yours since it's a lot of information to keep up with. "And uh, you said you met Choso already...?" The man over the phone asks.

"Mhm, ran into him in the hallway. He doesn't seem like he'll be hard to win over." You say casually.

Gojo pauses for a second. Then he sighs, "Yeah, the worst-case scenario with him is that he'll catch feelings for you."

A brow rose in suspicion, "What makes you think he'll catch feelings for me?"

"He's not like the other guys on the list. Aside from..." Gojo takes a second to think, "I guess, Nanami, I'm not sure Choso is used to or even understands the concept of a hookup."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning, he'll grow attached."

"Okay well," You hesitate. "Let's just hope he doesn't."

"Right." Gojo chuckles a little, nearly sounding relieved.

You write some more stuff into the journal, trying to devise a plan for each man. "Okay and, can you just tell me the last two people on the list?"

"Oh. Well, there's Sukuna, who happens to be Choso's older... half-brother? I really don't know how their family works but, yeah." He answers, sounding a little confused on the matter himself.

You're quiet for a long moment, white noise heard through the phone. It takes you a few minutes to really process what that idiot just told you. First a professor and now you're learning that you have to fuck two people who are related...

"Gojo..." You let out a stressed sigh. "Y'know what, never mind."

"Nono, what is it?" He urges, interested in hearing how you feel about it.

He knows it's probably not the most easy thing to accept but, that doesn't make him care any less about how you feel.

Your eyebrows are tensed, "Half-brother?"

"Okay I know how it sounds but, I'm pretty sure they hate each other," Gojo tells you as if it's supposed to make things sound good.

"Oh my god," You reply, voice sarcastic, "That makes it so much better."

"Listen-"

"No Gojo, I really think I'm done listening. Who's the last person?" You divert.

The sound of him taking a deep breath can be heard, "Fuck, you're not gonna like this one either..."

"What is it?"

"It's Naoya... Who happens to be..." Gojo swallows hard, "Well, he's..."

"He's what?!" You huff, "Spit it the fuck out Gojo."

"I'm like fifty percent sure he's Mr. Fushiguro's cousin or something."

You scoff in pure disbelief. "Why am I not fucking surprised?"

"I'm sor-"

"Apologize to me one more time and I promise you, this will be our last conversation ever." You cut off.

You then drop the phone in your hand onto the bed, putting the man on speakerphone and moving your fingertips to massage your temples. A migraine is on the rise within your head and you don't know how much longer you can put up with this shit.

You swear the only good thing about this is the fact that you're getting paid.

Suddenly, as you think harder about the situation you're in, tears well up in your eyes. This shit sucks. It fucking sucks. You don't wanna do this. What if you get caught doing something with Toji? Or, what if one guy finds out about the other and then you experience a spiderweb effect of everyone figuring your little scheme out?

How can you get out of this situation? Why did it have to be you of all people? Why won't Gojo just find someone, anyone else to do this bullshit for you? Yeah, you need the money-- which is another thing for you to cry about because you can't get a proper job to save your life, but you still hate everything about this.

Before you even realize it, you're sniffling and wet spots are forming against the bed below you.

Gojo's still on the line, wondering if he's hearing things correctly. You hear him call out your name softly, almost as if he genuinely cares about you. The sound of his gentle tone alone makes your crying get a little worse.

"F-Fuck off," You choke out.

You then move a hand to hang up on him because you don't want him to hear you crying like this but he starts talking and you start listening before you press that bright red button.

"Wait, shit, listen. I know I'm an asshole, I know this whole thing is fucked up, I know I'm treating you terribly right now but..." Gojo trails off and you think you hear a thud on the other side of the phone. Did he just hit something? "Fuck, I know you don't want to hear this but I am sorry, honestly."

Your voice is a small whisper as you wipe your face off, "Screw you and your sorry."

"I... I-I'll triple it." Gojo suddenly offers.

You swallow and sniffle a bit, "Triple what?"

"The original price. I'm changing it to six thousand." He says.

You can tell he's serious about it too because as you stare at your phone in shock, you see another deposit made to your account to make up for the interactions you had with him and Geto.

"P-Per person??" You ask to clarify.

"Yes, it's... it's the least I can do, right?" Gojo sighs. Even though you want to ignore it, you can hear how disappointed in himself he sounds.

For another long moment, you're quiet. The least he can do? Bullshit. He's the one who put you in this damn situation in the first place.

"...No..." You end up mumbling out.

He scoffs lightly, "No?"

"The least you could do is delete the video and let me go." Your voice is as delicate as ever, gently hitting the man's ears in a way that makes his heart throb.

Gojo grits his teeth and although you can't see it, his head tips back against his bedframe as he stares up at his ceiling. His hands raise to his face and his words are a little muffled, filled with distraught, "...I can't do that, sweetheart. I can't." He breathes.

The man sounds almost pained at the thought of letting you go.

You scowl at the phone, eyes watering all over again, "S-Stop it with the damn nickname, I hate it-, I hate you."

Gojo has a broken little smile on his face and the voice you hear over the phone is full of hurt, "I know but-," He clears his throat a little and you hear him inhale deeply, "Fuck... you don't really mean that do you?" He whispers.

You don't know why you don't respond instantly like you were before. It's like the sound of his voice was getting to you. Why does he sound hurt too? This isn't affecting him the way it is you so, what the hell is his problem?

"...I don't know," You mumble, "I don't even fucking know anymore."

It goes quiet after that.

You couldn't hear much from your phone but the softest sounds of him moving. It was gentle movements though, not like he was doing anything inappropriate but almost like...

You don't want to think about it or even take a guess but it genuinely sounded like the man could've been crying over the phone.

As soon as you think about it, you scoff at yourself and shake your head. Gojo Satoru, crying because you said you hate him? Yeah right.

"I should uh," You sniffle a bit, "I should go-"

"I'll make it up to you." He suddenly sighs. "All of it. I swear, I'll make it all up to you, okay?"

Again, his words and the tone of his voice are yanking at your overworked heartstrings. "...Promise?" You whisper, having no idea why you're giving him this chance in the first place.

Gojo's smiling at his phone, hearing the change in your voice and feeling relieved that you're actually listening to him, "I promise."

With one last quiet okay slipping from your lips, the phone call ends there.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Within minutes after that ridiculously angsty phone call, you receive a text from someone that instantly has you blinking away your tears.

It's Choso.

It had been maybe a little over an hour and a half since you ran into him in the hallway but, here he was texting you already. It was a simple text that read; 'hey ik we just met and all but, can I call you?'. You had to blink a few times to register what you were reading.

After you mentally prepare for it, you go ahead and respond with a simple yeah in response. Seconds later, the male is calling-, no, FaceTiming you.

You think your heart sinks into your fucking toes. Your eyes are slightly reddened and puffy from the crying you just did and you do not want him to see you right now.

Regardless, you answered the call and have the camera directed toward the ceiling. Choso's stupidly handsome face pops up on your screen and you're smiling already.

"Hey uh, ok I know this is kinda awkward but my brother wouldn't answer and I wanted to show this to someone," He tells you, his voice like a calming balm to your ears.

"You could've just sent me a picture y'know..." You say, your tone noticeably light due to the tears you just shed.

Choso pauses for a second, staring at his phone. "Okay, scratch that for a second, are you okay?"

"Uhm, yeah? Why?"

"You sound like you were crying." He points out.

How the actual fuck can he tell?

You chuckle at him, "I wasn't."

"Then you sound upset. Did something happen?"

"Nothing I feel like talking about right now but, thanks for asking. What did you wanna show me?"

"I won't show you unless you tell me something." Choso says in full seriousness, "And plus, you're not even showing your face which further believes me to think you were crying."

Again, you laugh, "I uh, I just look a mess right now. And the only thing I'll tell you is... I dunno, I had an argument with my..." What the hell do you even refer to Gojo as at this point?

"Your boyfriend?" He suddenly fills in for you.

"No!" You huff, giggling at his assumption, "I don't even have a boyfriend."

You see him smiling a little, "Girlfriend, then?"

"No, Choso. I'm single."

"Ohhh." He hums, sounding genuinely surprised. "My bad, did you fight with a friend?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess you could call him that." You say, shrugging a little.

"Damn. It must've been a big argument."

"What makes you say that?"

His shoulders raised, "You don't even wanna call him your friend."

You scoff a little, "He's just... an asshole."

"One that made you cry?" Choso asks, arching a brow in suspicion.

"No," You roll your eyes, "I didn't cry, Choso."

"Show me your face then."

"I don't want to."

He scoffs, "That's how I know you were crying."

You hate the way the man is reading right through you. "I wasn't." You argue.

"Lying to me when the truth is obvious is crazy," Choso says dramatically.

"I'm not lying."

You see him shake his head in disappointment, "Damn, I might need to remember this as a red flag of yours; pathological liar." He tells you with his voice both serious and playful at the same time.

"You really don't believe me, huh?"

"Not until I see your face, no."

"Fine," You lift your phone slightly, only showing your face from the nose up.

Choso stares for a minute before suddenly smiling fully and holy shit is the sight sexy. The phone is quiet as he stares at you, almost dazed like how he was earlier. You feel a little awkward and have the urge to put the phone down but when he blurts something out, you end up freezing.

Choso tilts his head and his gaze is scrutinizing, "Your eyes are so fuckin' pretty, I'm gonna lose my mind." He compliments abruptly.

Your heart definitely stopped for a minute, maybe three. The way you drop your phone and sink your head into your blanket like a blushing and giggling teenager is comical at this point. The man's words made you smile so hard that your cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Don't... Don't say shit like that so suddenly," You say, chuckling through your words.

He shrugs and sits back into whatever chair he's in, "But it's true. Fuck, show me your full face this time."

"G-Gimme a second," You sigh.

"Why?"

Does he not realize how attractive he is right now? You can't even conversate normally.

"Cause' I... I need a minute." You mumble to him.

The corner of his lips is up in a smirk and damn the way he looks at the phone. "Did I just make you nervous?" He asks, his voice suddenly a little lower.

You scoff, "No."

"Liarrr," He taunts.

"I'm not lying."

He clicks his tongue, his eyes low on the phone. "Then show me your face, princess."

Jesus, the nickname caught you off-guard. You can't do this. Why is Choso so... so... hot? Sexy? Attractive? You don't even know what word to use for the man at this point.

"Fuck. Fine." You end up sighing.

Then, you slowly move to lift your phone and prop it up with a nearby pillow. Since you're laying on your stomach and you're wearing a loose tank top, your chest is pressed against the bed below and Choso has a full view of that and everything else from your neck up.

He blinks a few times and you pray that he doesn't say anything that'll fluster you again.

To your surprise, it seems as though you'd flustered the man without saying anything. Choso's head turns to the side as he looks away from his phone and you get a lovely view of his jawline. Damn, he's got quite the side profile.

You watch him inhale deeply and then peek over to his phone from the corner of his eye as if that'll change the sight on his device. You simply blink innocently at him as if you're unaware of the way you look right now.

"You alright over there?" You ask in an almost sultry tone.

Choso clears his throat and nods, turning to face his camera again, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He stares intently before saying, "You're somethin' else, y'know that?"

A chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head, "Am I?"

"Yeah. But uh, now that I can see you..." His eyes dart past his phone and you watch as he looks back and forth between the device and whatever is in front of him.

Your eyebrow raises in curiosity as you watch him, "What is it?" You ask.

"Oh, it's what I wanted to show you." He says and you watch him stand up and look down at his phone one last time. "Okay, it's not perfect but I hope you like it."

For a second you're still confused but when Choso flips the camera around, sheer surprise takes over your expression and your jaw literally drops. It was by far one of the most beautiful things you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"Don't freak out, I hope this isn't weird," Choso says quickly as he backs up a little and gives you a full view.

The man had painted you.

It was unique too. Not just like a normal portrait but like how you appeared in his eyes which just so happened to be so very beautiful. His art in general includes darker colors and you can see other paintings behind his newest one, all fitting in with his theme.

"Y-You painted me?" You say dumbfoundedly, "I thought you majored in graphic design."

He laughs, "I do but that's just for school. I paint in my free time."

"Choso you just saw my face for the first time a few hours ago, how the hell did you..."

"I honestly can't explain that," He says with a shrug, "When I got home I uh, couldn't get your face out of my head, and well, if I didn't draw or paint you I think I was gonna go crazy."

You study the art a little more. It's you but at a side profile, your gaze is downwards and you think for a second before you realize it's a painting of you as you were looking at his other art on his phone earlier. Choso painted an image of you from his perspective and boy was it beautiful.

There was predominantly black paint and he has this smudgy yet clean art style you don't think you've ever seen before.

"Choso that's beautiful, oh my god," You gasp, eyes wide and a smile prominent on your face.

You're so distracted by the canvas you're being shown that you miss as the man screenshots the reaction you have.

"You want it?" He offers simply.

You don't even know what to say, "Uhm, I dunno, i-it's your art."

"Yeah, but it's you."

"Kinda narcissistic for me to have a portrait of myself, don't you think?"

"Kinda stalkerish for me to have a portrait of a girl I just met, don't you think?" He asks in return, mocking you.

You giggle, "You're the one who decided to paint me."

"True. Alright then lemme ask this," He turns the phone back around to himself and you watch him sit back down, "Can I keep it?"

You blink. "It's your art."

"It's your face." The man fires back.

"I-," You sigh, "Yeah Choso, you can keep it."

He smiles, "Thanks."

"No, thank you. I didn't think I could look that good." You sigh, feeling all bubbly and light inside.

Choso tilts his head as he looks at his phone, "Have you seen yourself?"

"Don't give me that." You roll your eyes playfully, "Have you seen your art? You could make a pile of shit look good."

"I can't make anything look good, I can only work with the beauty that's already there."

Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second. When you swallow down the compliment he's given you, you can't stop yourself from smiling. "Y'know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder right?"

"I'm aware. And in this case, I'm the beholder and you're someone I find beautiful." He responds.

Damn the way he's quick with all these comebacks. "I think your gaze is filtered." You say with a shrug.

You see him raise a brow, "By what?"

"I dunno, delusion."

Choso laughs wholeheartedly at you. "My gaze is delusional because I think you're beautiful? Wow."

For a long moment, you'd forgotten about everything again. You forgot about your rules, the list, the situation you're in-- all of it. For once, it felt peaceful, blissful even.

"I'm joking," You tell him, watching as he sighs in relief. "But on a serious note, thank you for this."

"For what? The painting?" Choso asks.

"Yeah, that and uh, calling me. You have some interesting timing."

"Oh yeah, no problem. I'm glad I made you feel better."

The way you and him have these little conversations so seamlessly is something you never want to end. He's so sweet and refreshing to talk to that you wish you could forget about the list and just run away with the man.

"Who says I was feeling bad...?" You reply to him.

Choso rolls his eyes, clearly seeing through you, "I don't like liars y'know..."

You pout, "Whatever."

"And I'm being for real, I'm glad I made you feel better. I uh, hope you and your friend fix things."

You scoff, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what he did."

"No, I would." Choso protests. He doesn't know the details but he's being genuine, "If whatever you guys were arguing about was enough to make you cry then, clearly you care about him."

Your head shakes slowly, "You don't have enough context on the situation to come to that conclusion."

"You didn't deny it-"

"I don't care about him." You cut off. "Trust me when I say, I hate him."

Choso chuckles at you. He didn't take your words seriously one bit. "Ehh, sounds like an enemies-to-lovers situation..." He comments with an innocent little shrug.

"Oh hell no, this isn't that." You assure the man.

He gives you a skeptical look, "You sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Damn." Choso blinks, "He really fucked up didn't he?"

"You have no idea."

"I wanna ask more buuut I don't wanna be nosy soo, m'kay." Choso results in saying. "Even so, I still hope you and him get through whatever it is you're going through."

You sigh, "I don't but, thanks Choso."

"No problem, princess." He says sweetly.

Fuck, he keeps catching you off-guard with that. It makes your brain get to stuttering and your face gets hot, "Don't call me that..."

"Why? It's fitting."

"No, it's not." You argue.

"Alright," He glances away to think before saying, "How about angel?"

You sigh, "Stop."

"Pretty girl?" He continues.

"Choso." You call.

He doesn't listen, "Doll? Baby?"

"You're still going..."

He pauses for a minute to think before uttering, "Sweetheart?"

Fuck that made you think of Gojo. You think your body freezes for a second at the thought of the man alone.

"Love?" Choso adds on, having no idea of your little history with these damn pet names.

"You can stop now," You say sternly. "Seriously."

"Alright, alright, my bad. I'll stick to the first one." He hums, "Unless you seriously don't like it...?"

The way he holds nothing but consistent care for your feelings toward things is truly endearing, "Nah, the first one's fine."

Choso nods, "Alright then princess, I'll talk to you later."

You're smiling all over again, "Bye Choso."

The two of you give a little wave to each other before the phone call comes to an end.

Oh, you definitely feel like a teenager all over again. The way he painted you the same day he met you, the way he speaks so charmingly to you, the way he... fuck it's everything about him

Scew Gojo and his shitty little promise of making things up to you, based on the one phone call you had with Choso-- there's nothing that white-haired bastard can do to fix the paining fact that your real chances with Choso are slim to none because you'd never be able to tell him about the list.

And god forbid the man finds out about it.

Butterflies are still stirring in your stomach, the feeling being the after-effect of talking to Choso. You don't want to like him but it's already difficult. You actually shouldn't and really can't like him.

You've gotta distance yourself going forward. You have to.

The question now is, will you be able to?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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astrophileous · 1 year ago

Note

A little fluffy piece of reader who normally takes her coffee black vs Spencer having a ton of sugar in his? The two of them getting their drinks mixed up and almost spitting it out at the pure amount/lack of sugar? 🤭

OMG I was actually planning to include a similar scene in one of my upcoming oneshots, but you know whattt!!! I'll write them again here anyway bcs it's such a cute concept 🥰

Warning(s): gn!reader but reader wears lipgloss, profanities, fixation over lips, bashful spencer bcs he's my babygirl <3

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What the fuck?"

Spencer strode over just in time to see you spitting something out into the kitchenette sink. There was no concealing the disgust on your face as you eyed the cup in your grasp suspiciously.

"Hey." Spencer's voice tore through the air in a shaky ball of nerves. It sounded meek amidst the buzzing busyness of the BAU bullpen, yet still, you snapped your head up as soon as the single syllable left his mouth.

Your eyes instantly melted when they flickered towards his face.

"I think our drinks got switched," Spencer added, a little louder this time.

Your gaze played a tennis match between the identical cups in both your hand and Spencer's. The grimace you rewarded him in the next second was possibly the cutest thing Spencer had seen in the past few months.

"This is yours? That explains so much. Ever heard of diabetes, Dr. Reid?" you joked as the two of you returned each cup to its rightful owner. "What the hell is in that, anyway?"

"Um, coffee?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "I may know practically nothing compared to you, Doctor, but I know for a fact that was not coffee. Tell me, how many sugar canes had to be chopped down to satisfy your abominable preference of sweetness?"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Do you even know what real coffee tastes like?"

Before he could produce a reply, you suddenly thrust the cup of coffee in your hand right in front of Spencer's nose. The man staggered rearwards until his back met the wall with a thud.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it," you said sheepishly.

"What?"

"Try the goddamn coffee, Reid."

Spencer didn't actually need to try the goddamn coffee. After all, he knew your order like the back of his hand: iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, maybe one pump of syrup if you were feeling adventurous. He could already imagine how revolting the drink would taste.

But as you continued to peer at him behind your lashes, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips glossy from your favorite cherry lipgloss—the limited edition one that you had proudly boasted about in front of the entire team—Spencer could feel his IQ depleting in a rapid descension. He accepted the cup without a word and took a courageous sip.

"Well?" you questioned expectantly.

"Please don't force me to do anything like that, ever again."

Laughter exploded deep from within your chest when Spencer shoved the coffee back into your awaiting hand. He didn't have a lot of time to mull over the nauseating bitterness, however. Not when you proceeded to wrap your own lips around the lid—the same one he was just drinking from—and downed a generous sip.

Spencer averted his gaze away.

"Hey." JJ peeked into the pantry area, unaware of the rush of blood and inner turmoil that Spender was battling. The blonde waved the file in her hand before gesturing at the conference room. "We've got a case. Hotch wants everyone in five."

You skittered away after JJ's announcement, leaving Spencer dumbfounded and pathetically bothered by the image of your enticing lips. He followed after your footsteps, leading himself towards the conference room where the rest of his team was gathering. He drank a large sip from his own coffee to calm his racing heart, unaware of the reddish stain in the shape of your lips marking the area around the lid of his cup.

For the rest of that day, Spencer could taste traces of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Alicent Hightower*Dreams

Pairing: alicent x f!septa!reader

Kinktober Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Word count: 1635

Warnings: religious corruption, corruption kink, relgious guilt, making out, flashing, f! receiving oral, multiple orgasm, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Alicent was a pure and pious woman. Anyone would agree the queen loved her gods but they didn’t notice the way her eyes chased after the new septa they’d sent to the court. Alicent however had noticed the lingering looks her sons would give her and how you’d squirm out of their grasps.

Often times you would run directly to her side, quoting scripture or asking her opinions on what you had read. She had taken you under her wing, at least that’s what all would think when she would stay up all hours praying with you. what they didn’t see was how she would stare at your covered breaths or dream about what you looked like under your habit.

She knew it was wrong. At first at least. But one night after an exceptionally good dream she’d had of you creeping into her chambers in the middle of the night another thought crossed her mind. Perhaps you were the maiden, sent to the queen to be a comfort. After all, if the men could find their comfort in another’s arms what was the harm of Alicent learning another way to pray.

Despite her attempts to justify her thoughts Alicent made no attempts to lure you in. you were pure and innocent and just and virtuous and fucking beautiful down on your knees. Well, that’s what Alicent had been thinking about, hand between her thighs one night when a knock on the door shocked her.

She quickly tied her robe around her naked frame, making her way to the door. she opened it a crack at first but when she saw your face shinning up at her she quickly ushered you in. “Is everything alright?” she asked, motioning you to join her on her sofa.

“I’m sorry did I wake you your grace?” you asked, nervousness suddenly washing over you.

Your eyes were trained on the sofa, but you looked up to meet hers as her hand took yours in hers, “You need not worry. You are welcome here at any hour. Now tell me why is it you cannot sleep?”

“I was wondering,” you started, your eyes darting away as you searched for the words, “if I may ask you a question? Just its not the type of question that I am proud to have to ask,” you said, your eyes finally meeting hers again.

Her eyes squinted, looking at you with concern as she squeezed your hand, “You may ask me anything you wish,” she assured you, brushing the hair out of your face without a thought.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the contact, your mouth growing dry. “How does one handle improper thoughts?” you eventually managed to spit out, “even when I know they are wrong they will not leave my mind and I wonder. Does it make me as bad as my thoughts?” you said, your tongue rambling as soon as your mouth had opened.

Alison shuffled forward, prompting you to finally hush and look into her eyes, “We cannot control my thoughts though,” she said, trying to hide the intrigue in her voice, “it may help if I were to know what thoughts you were having,”

Her words made your throat close up and your eyes grow wide, “Are they thoughts of another?” she asked and after a moment you finally nodded yes. Alison felt her stomach flip as she continued, “is it the princes?” she heard the words before she could think but the fact you shook your head no made her sigh in relief, “Another man?” another no. Alicent paused a moment, her head tilting, “Are your thoughts of another woman?” she tentatively asked.

You paused for longer this time before nodding, “I can’t control them your grace. They come to me at all hours and this night in my sleep,”

“What kind of thoughts?” she cut you off and you felt your skin tingle.

“Impure thoughts,” you whispered, your innocent eyes darting around despite being alone making Alicent want you even more, “I’ve heard stories of women who enjoy others company. Like how man and wife are supposed to,”

“Did your higher septas tell you about these things?” Alicent asked and you shook your head no again, “another septa perhaps? Or a certain book?”

“No my lady but my thoughts, they cannot be okay surely?” you asked, your hands tightening on hers.

Alicent knew it was wrong to indulge these thoughts, to bring you down with her, but your lips were so close and looked softer than any man, “Why would the gods punish us for things that do not hurt another?” she whispered.

“Is it not wrong my queen? To covet another?”

“Only if they do not wish your thoughts,” she whispered back, “Tell me my sweet, who do you dream of?”

Your eyes flickered to the floor, your skin hotter than a fireplace as Alicent shuffled closer, her fingers lifting your chin gently, “You, your grace. I’m sorry I do not mean to cause offence I shall send myself back to the- “

“That won’t be necessary,” her words cut you off, her hand moving to cup your jaw, “Tell me something sweet septa. Why would the gods make something that feels so good a sin?”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out, “My queen we shouldn’t,”

“But why?”

“Because it’s wrong,”

“According to who?” she asked, her breath fanning your face, “if you can quote me a scripture I shall stop. But I for one see no reason why we should not make the most of the gifts the gods give us,”

Her words sent shivers down your spine as you looked deep into her eyes, “Tell me to stop,” she said, her lips moving closer till they brushed against yours with each word, “and I will,” before you could respond you felt her lips crash onto yours and your own lips kissed back surprising you both.

Her hands moved to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer making you gasp giving her the ability to slip her tongue in. a rush went through Alicent and before you knew it, she’d pulled you over to straddle her lap, your dress bunching up showing your bare thighs.

You gasped when you felt her pull your head covering off but groaned when you felt her fingers rake through your hair. It was softer than she had thought. When she felt you whine into the kiss another rush ran through her as she pushed you off her and stood.

You sat back on the sofa, beginning to stutter out an apology when Alicent undid the knot of her robe. Your jaw slackened as she pushed the fabric from her shoulders, leaving her bare for your eyes to marvel at.

This time she moved to straddle your lap, her fingers moving to unlace the back of your septa dress. She pushed it down enough to reveal the tops of your collarbones. You whimpered as she kissed down your neck, her teeth grazing your collarbones as her hands groped your breasts over the fabric that covered them.

“Would you like to see what I was dreaming of little one?” she asked between the kisses she placed along your skin. All you could do was nod then watch in amazement as she dropped to her knees, her hands slipping under her dress.

You tried to stutter out a question, but you were soon hushed, “Relax little one. Trust me,” she said, kissing your knee as she pushed your skirt up your legs till you were bare to her. Alicent loved the way your eyes refused to meet hers as your skin grew red.

You felt her warm breath fan over your wet cunt. all the dreams you had had were becoming real but as she pressed a kiss to your clit you realised it felt better than you could have imagined. Far better than your own hand.

You gasped as Alicent began to lick strips up your cunt, devouring every morsel of you as her tongue hit places you did not know existed. You felt your stomach tightening and an unfamiliar feeling begin to spread through your body.

Your hand moved to push her away but Alicent wrapped her arms tightly around your thighs. When your peak hit you, a loud whine left your lips, “oh god,” you cried as you came undone on her tongue but Alicent was not ready to stop.

“You taste so sweet,” she mumbled against your core making you shiver. When you felt her fingers tease your hole your hips bucked, “such an eager student,” she praised, kissing your inner thigh.

When she pushed her fingers in slowly, she relished in the whines you let out and how your hips bucked against her hand. You moaned as she began to curl her fingers, hitting the spots even you struggled to find in the darkness of your room.

However, your body jerked when her lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Your grace,” you panted, your hands gripping her hair as your head fell back against the chair. “I can’t please,”

“But you can,” she said, sending shivers up your spine as she left an open mouth kiss to your clit. As you felt her teeth graze the sensitive bud you couldn’t stop your legs tightening around her head as you came undone by her tongue a second time so far. Alicent could die happy like this she thought but she had no time for that now.

Not as she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed your hands, “What are you doing?” you asked, complying none the less as you stood in front of her.

“I’m not done with you yet my sweet. It is time for your dreams to become true,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

#alicent hightower smut #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower imagine #alicent hightower #alicent x reader #alicent smut #alicent targaryen #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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sttoru · 1 year ago

Note

!!! geto hate fuck turning into something really damn passionate! reader repeatedly moaning apologies until geto had given us a bath of his warm cum <3

ONE MORE, ONCE MORE.

⟣ note. listen this turned out way toooo detailed than what i had expected it to be HLPP i got lost in the story irlly just wanted to make this a 100 word drabble oopsies

⟣ tags. mean dom / ex!geto suguru x female reader. smut. hate fucking, mention of slapping, creampie, dirty talk; degradation, name calling; ‘slut’, spriiinkle of overstimulation, slight size difference, uhh dumbification once i think.

all you did was throw non-stop insults at him — about his attitude, abilities, skills. . . maybe his choice of clothing too. well, that last one was purely added due to your own pettiness.

the heated argument had started when you came over to your ex-boyfriend’s house to pick up the last few items you had left there before the break up. the reason of why you two decided to go off against one another was long forgotten.

that was solely due to the underlying tension between you two. there was something about seeing suguru in such a furious mood that was extremely attractive — he secretly had the exact same thoughts about you too.

the sexual tension seemed to peak once suguru had stopped your hand from coming in touch with his face. it was intended to be a slap to the face out of frustration, however nothing came out of it.

. . maybe except for the fact that you were the one getting slapped now—though in a more sexual way;

“sorry? yeah, hah, too fuckin’ late.” suguru spits whilst keeping your wrists pinned above your head, hips ramming against yours, throbbing cock now balls deep inside you, “should’ve taught twice before catching an attitude with me, sweetheart.”

oh, he was livid. that ‘sweetheart’ didn’t hold its usual sweetness. it was filled with spite, though just a crumble of longing laid underneath. as if he missed you — as if he still yearned for you.

“‘m sorry, sorr—sorry, suguru !” you mewl. that’s all you could manage to do under the grasp of that man as he had you pinned to the couch in the living room, your face a crying mess from both the argument and the turn of events.

one thing about suguru that you did certainly miss was the way he could pleasure you. he did it so well, so precisely—no other man you had been with could ever compare. it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t glad your little visit turned out like this;

“ah, fuck—missed seeing your pretty face like this,” suguru whispers under his breath, lips grazing against yours for a single second. it was enough to leave you stunned and even more embarrassed. exactly what he was trying to accomplish, “missed seeing you cry, drool and beg for my cock. missed seeing you being a little slut for me.”

your nails were digging onto suguru’s triceps, teary eyes looking at him like you were begging him to help you reach your climax — for him not to stop once you were so close to that point of no return. you knew your ex had a thing for edging you, though that’s the last thing you want right now.

not when this felt so right. the way suguru was fucking you was rough and harsh, like he was outing his frustrations on you, but it also slowly started to turn into something more passionate. seeing your tears, hearing your sobs and your pleas definitely made suguru soften up a bit more.

it was almost like he was back to his usual self; the soft and gentle boy you had met in high school. it didn’t seem like the suguru you had broken up with; the guy whose ideals clashed with yours.

“fuuuuck, ‘m sorry, suguru—promise w-won’t say anything like that anymore !” you try and beg once more, though were quickly shut up when suguru went in for a kiss. you instantly melt, not caring about any consequences in this moment—not when he’s fucking you so well. treating you so well.

his tongue invaded your mouth for a couple seconds, groaning at the feeling, before pulling away with a small grin. his harsh thrusting motions eventually turn into gentle yet frustrating grinding ones. he drove his cock into your sopping wet cunt so extremely slow that it made you beg once more.

“shh, shh. don’t overuse that little brain of yours and just cum for me, yeah? that’s all i need you to do, darling.” suguru encourages with a cocky yet sweet smirk.

he was proud that he still had it; the power and skills to drive you insane with pleasure and satisfaction. especially when he was grinding into you ever so slowly, tip grazing against your cervix with each motion.

you were right at the edge of euphoria; almost there. as was suguru, which was obvious due to the increased intensity of his hip movements, switching once more to fierce thrusts. the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap—

“mnhh, can’t wait to fill that pretty pussy again.” the dark-haired man teases through a series of grunts, already imagining the perfect picture: your cunt overflowing with that familiar sticky liquid, watching it dribble out of you.

claiming you as his. even if you weren’t anymore, suguru still had the urge to. he needed - no - desired you back. he wanted to show you those feelings and thus decides to do exactly that by finishing your little session in the best way possible,

“oh, fuck!”

whilst you were still babbling incoherent apologies, suguru had already given up on holding back. he swore to have never released so much. ever.

the warmth filling your insides was a sensation you hadn’t thought you’d have missed this much. you gasp and finish yourself off solely due to the feeling of suguru’s cum spreading in your womb.

“. . . i missed this — i missed you.” your ex-boyfriend sighs and collapses on top of you, not even bothering to pull out. you instinctively wrap your arms around his back and keep him there.

suguru doesn’t protest and just rests his head next to yours, kissing your cheek gently. a simple peck, yet it was filled with emotion.

“missed you too.” you reply quietly. it stays silent like that for a while. there was no need to speak any more—not when the silence spoke volumes;

neither of you seemed to be in the mood to separate from each other. not again.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #THIS S SO BADashhesveh

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moondirti · 1 year ago

Text

DOUBLE RAPTURE

MIGUEL O'HARA x F!READER x ALT! MIGUEL

「 Toasted, every atom in you blistering hot, knocking into each other repeatedly. It’s the buzz at the end of a cigar, embers burning, flickering down to concrete in coughs of ash. You’re both the fire and its aftermath, moaning breathlessly for all that you’re supposed to be in charge.

And tonight – stuck between two men who don’t look, but are, each other – nothing can tamp your flame. 」

summary: after apprehending an anomaly who turns out to be an alternate version of your husband, you indulge in your filthiest fantasy.

explicit (18+) | 6.3k words | part two warnings: pure smut, pwp, THREESOME, cunnilingus, squirting, throat-fucking, blowjobs, unprotected p-in-v, anal, double penetration, tummy/throat bulge, younger miguel is submissive, spitting, cum swallowing, hair pulling, mild degradation, possessiveness, tooth-rotting fluff, every kink under the moon tbh

In truth, it comes naturally.

Your Miguel – older, blunt around once serrated edges, wisps of grey streaking dark tresses – sits to the side. He fosters a tumbler in one grip, half-full with amber liquid. Scotch whiskey, neat; you’d poured the drink to give yourself something to do while waiting. It’ll help, you insisted. An outlet to sip on, or a loud-enough warning when set on the adjacent tea table.

Now, you see that it was more for your sake than his.

He’s entirely collected for someone watching another man’s hands run along his wife’s body. They pushed your shirt off a while ago, hurried to behold your covered form. You’re laying in your bra, breasts heaving while kisses trail down your stomach, nipping the sensitive skin there – and still, all you can focus on is him. Your Miguel, scrutinising the rush the man is in with disapproval glimmering on carmine eyes. If this whole thing hadn’t been his suggestion, you would’ve sworn the look was meant to kill.

Because he likes to take his time with you. It hasn’t always been that way. Ages ago, following your premiere date, you fucked for the first time in a motel he rented, both your apartments’ farther than he would’ve liked to drive. But, again, he’s older now. Seasoned. There’s a heavy ring decorating your finger that winks reassuringly at him, three carats for the three year anniversary he proposed on. It amplifies the truth each hour you wear it – he is yours, you are his, and you’ve all the time in the world to do with each other as you please.

Your third for the night is unfamiliar with the dynamic.

(Though of course, it makes sense for him to be.)

You have to remind yourself of the fluid lines that mark each component of this little fantasy. They waver and wobble, bleeding into one another sometimes like wet ink on parchment. It’s hard to decipher the words they spell out when trapped in thick, indulgent lust – your legs spread to allow the man room as he moves down your body. But it’s even harder to ignore the way your skin burns with the intensity of your husband’s careful contemplation. It singes, redefining those exact perimeters for you:

One, and the most important given your suggestion, is that this will never leave your room. It’s not distrust that keeps it rigid – rather, a shared concern for the integrity of the multiverse. Your Miguel is all too aware of the dire consequences it could face should the rule be broken. You are too. It only narrows down to the partner occupying your bed and his naivete to it all.

Two; to use the safewords established beforehand. You’re infamous for losing yourself to pleasure, the habit bordering on a dangerous degree. It’s why Miguel is watching, to ensure things start correctly. He’s piqued and ready to stop it should the man not understand your limits.

(However unlikely. Currently, you’re the one establishing them.)

The third – the one you have a particularly complicated time grasping – is that ‘the man’ in question is no stranger at all. In fact, it’s instinct to touch him in the same way you’re used to, your mind adequately fooled everytime you look at him. A full head of brown hair – albeit, cropped shorter than your voyeur’s, a fade in at his ears. Young skin, which you strain to notice is devoid of the crows’ feet you adore. Yes, he’s smoother, like time had taken sandpaper to your model and buffed out all his worn edges, but he’s still…

Miguel.

(Though he urged you to call him Mig, entirely oblivious to the subtle cringe that’d crossed your husbands expression. That nickname is one you hardly resort to. He’s revealed a hatred for it.

Another cue, then, that they are not one in the same).

So, it comes naturally because you’ve spent so long in this exact space. Dusk flooding your home in plum hues, the colour of a berry ripe with rot. Overhead lights off, golden lamps projecting sensual shadows on white sheets. Your face warm with alcohol and your panties pushed to the side by a hero named O’Hara, whose palms are large and dry but a burning furnace on gooseflesh.

The younger one, Mig, is not yet a hardened vigilante. He’s new to the game – DNA spliced with spider essence only seven months ago. In that time, he worked out his own method of inter-dimensional travel, tortured genius that he is. Hopped between worlds until, eventually, he blipped on your radar. You’d been sent to process the anomaly whose personhood you were unaware of, only to come face to face with a twenty-something version of your beloved.

There’s no room for bias in the delicate scale of the universe. He’d found himself locked with other transgressors of his pedigree. Miguel – yours – was vehemently opposed to the notion of him joining spider society, uncomfortably affluent in his past recklessness. He knows, better than everyone else; it’s a security risk, letting in a spider-man so inexperienced.

You think that it’s projection. That, and a recognition of the way his mirror couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you.

(A flattering notion for all you refused to believe it. You’re about ten years his senior – surely, he’d have better prospects on his Earth. But you asked, perhaps to hearten any overprotectiveness that could manifest itself as risk.

Something wrong, Mig?

He only looked at you behind the red laser field entrapping him, a small smile on his face. No. Nothing. You’re just different back home.)

That was before. Before he embodied the exact enthusiasm Miguel had been afraid of, spearing your cunt with his tongue, his scalp no doubt aching under your relentless hold. He hums his encouragement despite it, begging you to direct him the way you please. At least he acknowledges his cluelessness – you can almost hear from the other side of the bedroom, acumen pulsing amidst heady air. Most men wouldn’t, their egos great fragile beasts. To have gotten around before might embellish their history with competent, but no one’s ever truly an expert on someone new.

Mig doesn’t pretend otherwise. He’s keen to learn.

That is the difference that encouraged this whole tryst.

“Unfurl your tongue, Mig. You’re focusing too much on– Oh.” Your hips buck, shoving closer to the mouth that does just as you say. He laps your heated core with spittle-drenched dexterity, combing between puffy lips. “That’s it. F-fuck… Just. Just don’t stop.”

The praise does well for him. He looks up at you, reverent – pupils not red, but black with the shadows his long lashes cast. You brush back locks that fall upon his forehead, affording him a better view of the effects he’s wrought. A thin layer of sweat clings to your flesh, gleaming with the fading sun outside. In your peripheral – framed gorgeously by the wall-wide window – it dips below the horizon, nebulous. Blurry on orange clouds.

Pinned under observation and a feverish assault, you feel much the same. Toasted, every atom in you blistering hot, knocking into each other with novel speed. It’s the buzz at the end of a cigar, embers burning, flickering down to concrete in coughs of ash. You’re both the fire and its aftermath, moaning breathlessly for all that you’re supposed to be in charge.

And tonight – bouncing between two men who don’t look like, but are, each other – the feeding of the flame goes untamed.

You find that’s the cause for it. There’s nothing to cling onto for purchase, the one anchor in this equation seated on his leather armchair, ankle on knee, content in watching you soar to uncharted skies on the chin of another. Your head flops uselessly to the side, scanning him once more.

There’s a tricky look to him, suspended on two lines of equal measure. You can tell he wants to join, to take control of the exploit and direct it how he sees fit. Perhaps it’s regret. Yet the pronounced mass in his trousers speaks to the contrary. Miguel palms it, testing his endurance by keeping his touch above cloth, rounding back once his heel presses its end. The sight catalyses your delirium; the knowledge that he, your dedicated husband, is tender with rushed blood and idle about it. Waiting for an opportune moment.

When you reach out an arm in his direction, you hope he takes it as one. Mig sucks your weeping cunt in a symphony of lewd noises, as though he’s trying to push the grace he’s been granting. Slurp. Tracing the perimeter of your slit, revelling in the way it clicks at his ministrations. Squelch. Nose driving into your clit, so hard you suspect he’s trying to bury himself there.

It only calls to your lips, how dry they feel. You’re parched of the one thing he chose to forgo, marking it as off-limits based on some arbitrary ideal. You don’t assume you understand it, instead wiggling your fingers – come here – at your husband. He skips over the grabby hands, devouring your bitten pout and droopy lashes, weighing them in his head.

“Mi vida.” You plea, voice pitched high and winded. The glass’s bottom glints with the last swill of his drink. He knocks it back before rising – sweeping towards you, tantalisingly slow.

Mig shoves your knees higher, practically folding you in half. Your hamstrings stretch with the motions, sending molten spasms to your core – that which he continues to eat out. He’s now doubtlessly coated with your juices, but he doesn’t relent, tracing messy patterns on the sweet spot he managed to pinpoint without your help. You’re reduced to a sore bruise, egged on with every poke and prod. Pleasure swells with blood, clogging burst capillaries. Delicate. Inflamed; deliciously so. You give him a validating pat on the head while a free hand wraps around your Miguel, ironing his waist as he ducks down to your lips.

All three of you are on the bed now. You can’t begin to process the depravity of it all, the way things suddenly become hot and bursting and real. No – you’re much too enthralled by the rough kiss you’re pulled into. It’s dominating and tastes like smoked oak. Honey and faint vanilla where his tongue traces your fauces. The flavours batters you into something vapid, stupid, until the older man has to cup the back of your neck to keep you from sinking.

Intoxicated – you thought you’d be familiar with it by now, how wholly he consumes you, but there’s a power imbued in his approach that has you struggling to keep up. It’s all you can do to keep moving your mouth against his, gathering the material of his shirt to pinion yourself.

He’s got a stubble that colours his jaw in grey, the stalks of it grazing your nose and flaying you raw. It leaves you feeling sunburnt, dazed yet still pushing forward, like the balm for relief can be found at the back of his throat. That’s something else, you note, flicking your observation over to the face between your thighs. Mig keeps himself clean shaven, a youthful shine to his complexion, no peppered hair to obstruct it. Without it, you can clearly see the way his high cheekbones curve inward, hollowing out as they lead down to a pronounced chin. Charming, especially as it shoves between the globes of your ass to make room for his continued efforts.

You’re close, so close. A dam about to burst with centuries worth of water and–

“Need help, corazón?” Miguel whispers, nudging your nose so you can look back at him. Your response comes in the form of a stuffy whimper, nodding minutely. What exactly he means by help, you’re not sure, but his double seems to understand, breaking the smallest bit away to whine a protest.

“That’s offens–”

“Get back to licking her cunt before I change my mind about you being here.” Your husband orders, glowering when the reprimand seems to create the opposite of its intended effect. Mig grins wickedly, a cocky aura about him as he obeys. Just as he’s about to make contact again, his gaze catches yours. The subsequent wink he gives is a warning – loud and bleary and smug – preparing you for when he dives back in with a vengeance, plunging into your hole with that cursed muscle that runs like velvet.

The air pinches from your lungs, squealing on its way out. Your toes curl and your muscles tense and then Miguel directs your face back down with thick fingers, steering you by your cheeks. Your lips pucker, mouth unhinging at the silent command the action echoes. Tongue flattening, you prepare yourself for the little dance you’ve trekked a hundred times before – thankful, in some part, that he’s doing it to ground you.

When he spits – hawking, a dense glob concentrated with scotch – onto an expectant palette, you suppress the devilish narrowing of your eyes. It’s almost habit to reflect his countenance, looking down with fondness and pride at the control you exhibit. Because you don’t swallow, not immediately. You wait for him to kiss you again, to gather the slaver and push it behind your molars with reinforced passion. And he does. Of course he does – that and so much more as he places claim to the hole that is solely his for tonight. You hardly notice when his clutch leaves you, skimming down to unclasp your bra.

Not when your breasts jerk free, nipples pocking at the shift in temperature.

Not as he squeezes each, tugging at their peaks until they’re fully erect.

Or even while he tickles the line of your abdomen, following the same path his counterpart did, smoothing over aggressive bite marks.

It’s only when you break away for great, gluttonous breaths of air – your vision blurring with hypoxia – and Miguel reaches two digits to your fattened clit, do you finally run up to speed. It’s a little too late, though, because he presses down and escalates your delight to unprecedented heights. Enough to see stars – enough to scream the loudest you have in a long while, so that all your appeals are fully unintelligible but available for the world to hear.

“FUCK! Oh my– Fuck, s-shit, shit…” You cry, tears finally breaking the tension at your waterline and running in an unending sequence. “B-both of y-yo– Ah! So good. I’m–”

Mig moans, sending vibrations right to the tightening ball of pressure in your gut. He’s snowballed his efforts, drinking you in with a sincerity. Specifically targeted is the spongy wall of tissue on the upside of your mound, suffering his battery and singing for it. String-plucked and pedal-pressed symphonies, composing a viscosity within you that sloshes behind your orgasm. Yes, he adds to it, but the fingertips rubbing you with bullish ferocity are going to break what’s holding it all back. You feel– know it.

Using your hair to hold your head in place, Miguel utters a string of debauched nothings onto your lower lip, face pressed close to yours. They’re quiet enough that even you have trouble catching them, your ears ringing with rising alarm. But you sense the way his breath blows, what shapes it creates, how it twines – and that fills in every gap for you. The intimacy manages to speak to the truth, despite all the degrading dirty talk.

“You like that, you filthy fucking thing?” Groaning, your husband increases his speed, goading you faster. There are crushing hands on your hips, and another wound into your scalp, pulling it taut. “So insatiable that you need two men to help make you cum, huh? Do you think you can?”

“Yes, yes, yes please. Please,” The very implication that he might stop before you do inspires unruly desperation. Your hips, arms, head – they all thrash in unison. “I wanna– I want to cum, Miguel, for the love of everything! Please!”

He slaps your clit in warning. The blow sends you reeling into a hush, so much so that you stop moving immediately, secretly wishing he’d do it again. To divert your energy, you stare right into his pupils, which shine with burgeoning playfulness. “You will, dirty girl. You’ll wish you didn’t though.”

“W–”

“Oye, wide eyes.” He turns to Mig, who's been curiously watching the display, jaw still moving against you. He unhooks under the attention, blinking rapidly. “Mouth wide open. You’ll want to catch every drop.”

He returns to strokes you in circles – furious, fervent. It’s a screw to the cork, twisting forcefully to combat the tension it’s working to release. You squeal, screech, do just about anything except contract your body like you’re compelled to do. You leave yourself loose, watching as Mig registers what’s about to happen, following orders and transforming into a receptacle for it. His fangs peak from behind swollen lips.

All you’re able to think about, plastered to this pane of double rapture, is how they don’t seem to retract. Permanent, unlike your Miguel – a fixture in his gums.

And then the dam shatters. Implodes, actually – collapsing into itself until it’s a small particle floating out with the deluge. You can hear it, the rush of fluid squirting from you. Consistently, pouring into the puddle the younger man happily gathers. He beams with satisfaction and looks so much like your husband, who does the same, brushing tears off your wrecked face.

With a core still convulsing, caught in the reverberant throes of pleasure, you’re mentally spent. Drained for every dime you’re worth and still wholly aware of the promise he made, flipping it over in your head. Again, and again, until it loses impact and dissolves from the impending future. For all you try, though, he holds power over you – even in memory.

You’ll wish you didn’t.

Mig sits up, crouched on his haunches. Chest bare of everything – including the curls that span your husbands’ – and in just his boxers, you can’t help but focus on either one of two things. His maw, pulled in a downward smile and soaked with clear slick, a concoction of saliva and your fluid dripping from where his canines poke out. But you find that it fills you with unwieldy humiliation to behold, so you fall onto the next.

Which just so happens to be his erection, trapped and throbbing from behind navy cotton confines. The head of it peaks above his waistband, purple and dribbling with pre-spend. It’s created a wet spot that grows larger by the second, and your humility is replaced by guilt for the poor thing.

Miguel, cooing in faux sympathy, swoops to caress the shell of your ear with his sinful proposal.

“What do you say, cariño? Want us to fuck you silly?”

Your hole squeezes around nothing, empty, speaking with a will of its own. He hears it, because of course he does – he’s in tune with everything about you – and manoeuvres you onto your stomach. By mere muscle memory alone, you get on wobbly knees, presenting your rear to the ecstatic man behind you.

And, your husband… Well–

He squeezes between your face and the headboard, tree-trunk thighs stretching out on either side of you. There’s a huge wedge in his pants, not at full size yet but stiff regardless, suffocated by time and space. Your mouth waters, appetite returning far too rapidly for how distant it seemed mere seconds ago.

“Beautiful, hermosa.” Mig groans, spreading your ass to get a proper view of the way your pussy drips for him. A quick glance back provides you with a lovely picture. Him, positively captivated with your holes – both of them, it appears, based on the way his thumb grazes over your tighter clench. “Can’t wait to feel you on me.”

His cock is out, too, briefs shoved under the sack at the end of his length. You take it all in like it’s the first time – despite the many traits he shares with Miguel. Fat, darker than the rest of him that gleams bronze even at night. Though rooted on a crop of tangled hair, whereas his alternate self prefers it trimmed short. When he strokes himself, anticipative, you note the mushroomed head. Circumcised.

An impish idea suddenly crosses your mind. Succumbing to it, you arch your back, knocking your behind on him. The action traps the appendage between you and his pelvis, and to add insult to injury, you wiggle around until it slots between your cheeks. Mig’s face screws up, close-knit, his hands scrambling for purchase on your rolling hips.

Something slaps your cheek. Grinning, you turn back to Miguel, his dick now extricated from its prison. The heft of it sways, tapping your nose and fluttering eyelids, so damn heavy that you cringe when it approaches. Two veins pop up from the smooth skin stretched along him, branching down to his frenulum, the spot you choose to start.

Your tongue runs along it, lathering the plump seams on your journey to the top. His nerve endings are mainly reduced to his head – unlike Mig, who’s still moaning as you grind across his length – so you stay there, particularly concentrated on the edge and the valley it creates. Your temples warm with the gentle cradle of two large hands, piloting you on your trip around his cock.

He smells like home – an ambrosial mix of leather and sweat, the backseat of his car where he fucked you on valentines. It’d been raining, windows made misty by passing fog, city colours painted on the grey wash. You’d teased him all day with a lack of panties and suffered for it, practically choked on pleasure, nothing on but a new pendant necklace.

Right now, you’re stuck in a parallel state. You can’t breath under the leaden attention of both him and his mirror, doing your best to keep sucking and grinding regardless of your dwindling strength. It’s difficult, difficult to divide yourself and satisfy them both, but fuck do you want to. More than anything, you’d kill to see them come undone in your holes – simultaneously, in some unlikely reverie. Pumped full of cum and praise by double the man you love most. Your tummy lurches with nauseous desire, teeth separating as you take Miguel into your mouth.

Peering up at him, if only to experience the way he loses control. But creases fold between his brow, reading your expression just as well. Without rush or need for brawn, he pulls the responsibility from under you, assigning it to himself by propelling into your trap, all in one go. He grates along the texture of your palette, cleaving your tonsils, and finally settling deep in your throat, triggering a series of ugly gags. To quiet down, you grip your thumb in a fist, focusing not on your lack of air but on contracting your throat around his tip.

“Are you going to fuck her or continue to rut like a dog in heat?” Your husband bites at Mig, ever self-critical. The latter man sucks in a challenging huff, patting your waist as he withdraws to centre his cock between your folds. He wags it until it catches on the divet of your cunt, hot and surging with natural slick.

Then, just when you think you can’t bear it any longer, he pushes in.

“Ghmmngf!” You cry, forced forward onto Miguel’s breadth, coughing out the saliva and pre-spend that threaten to smother you. Nose smooshing to his groyne as the other bottoms out, sheathed fully within you. You swear you can feel him in your guts, silently praising whatever taught him how to make most of your narrow space.

Like they’ve practised telepathy their whole life, both men dip to feel themselves through your body. Mig presses a sturdy hand to your stomach, positioned right at your mound where he protrudes outwards, admiring the visible bulge he creates in you. Similarly, his older counterpart cradles your neck, pinching the sides that expand and retract with the pistoning of his hips. He fucks your gullet slow, fast, and back to slow again – amused with the pace he can discern in more ways than one.

If your eyes hadn’t been rolled to the back of your head, you’d be blinded instead by a pool of blissful tears. They bubble up uncontrollably, wetting the cheeks already glazed with almost every other bodily fluid. You’re ravished, cock dumb times two. Your cunt is stretched to its limits, sucking your paramour in with vacuum-like violence, the gravity of it equatable to the sun.

Or, no–

Not the sun.

Something a hundred times larger, nearing the end of its life. With every rock of your body, it runs out of hydrogen, draining the last dregs of fuel before eventually caving in on itself, transforming into an infinitely dense mass. It happens in your core, Mig’s bruising pace only exacerbating the strain, contracting smaller and smaller. Boundlessly so, enough to brush off as you snake a hand down to your clit, tapping the sensitive bud, testing its reactivity.

When you flick it, though, you’re drawn back into the dip of spacetime. It’s inescapable, the one fixed point in all this mess, imminent for all your ragdoll self tries to delay it. The room pounds with sex, the scent of it accompanying every particle, reducing air to balmy filth that acts as a catalyst in your undoing.

Impossible. You know it’s impossible to acquaint yourself with the sensation of being filled on both ends. Despite it, you try. You claw onto what little authority you have, pushing past your clit to graze your nails on a pair of swinging balls. They’re full and drooping, slapping your thighs as their owner humps your cunt.

“Keep doing that. Fuck, fuc– mierda, feels so good. Yersotight. Soft. Soft and… ah, small.” Mig babbles, bowing over your form to kiss the dip between your shoulder blades. Your teeth graze the cock ramming your craw, an unconscious tick that has your husband tugging your hair in admonishment. “Hermosa– s’okay if I? Gonna… gonna cum.”

“Mmnmgh–”

“Not so fast.” Miguel says, tugging you off him at once. It causes the both of you teetering over the edge, to groan, something overtaking all executive functions and compelling you to listen. The lull finds Mig slipping out, unable to hold himself back should he spend another moment filling your pussy.

You’re carried upward, manhandled off elbows and knees, to straddle your husband’s lap, facing a wide chest with pecs as comforting as pillows. When did he take off his shirt? Your vision swims, crossing, oscillating with the unexpected motion – until, well, it doesn’t, stopping as your forehead finds solace on the dip beneath Miguel’s clavicle. It’s a reassuring change, your brain rewiring into safety mode given the fact that, when you cum again – however overstimulating – you’ll be within the arms that have always expertly navigated it before.

And he’s warm, an ever-raging bonfire that licks your breasts and pebbled nipples, heat penetrating your bones to seep into your heart. Your marrow follows soon after, melting into a potion of desire and relief, especially when his far more familiar cock replaces the void left by Mig.

“Wide eyes.” The older one calls.

“Did–” Said man stutters, shuffling closer. “Hope I didn’t hurt you, pretty.”

“Hngh… ‘Course n-not, Miggy. We’ve safeee– words, rmmbr?” You grunt, reaching a hand behind you to hold onto his bigger one, squeezing it for added reassurance. “My ass, tho-eahh. Please.”

“You’re– You’re being for real. Seriously?” He asks, rising hope evident in his tone. “Have you ever done it before?”

“Of course she has.” Miguel interrupts, rolling his hips instead of bouncing your tired body on him. “First drawer on your right.”

You laugh when the mattress wobbles, sheets tangling beneath his hurried scramble. The bottle of lube is almost empty, bought spontaneously during your honeymoon to Cabo. Your then newly-wed wanted to indulge your fantasy of anal on the beach, tucked away on a private cove he’d found just for the occasion. It’s been a vice ever since, just like all things with him. You’re addicted to the man, flat-out, scratching to get your fix whenever possible. However possible.

And, of course – due to a devastating soft spot that makes it hard for him to begrudge you anything – you now have two.

Mig spurts a substantial amount onto his hand, rubbing it on his dick and the ring of muscle it faces. Two digits thrust into you, exploring your elasticity, scissoring to make room for a much larger insertion. The man seated balls deep in your cunt kneads your flesh; obsessed with the chub around your waist, thighs, your cheeks especially, pulling them apart to make this whole ordeal easier.

Not that you necessarily need it, being used to it by now – though you preen under the attentiveness regardless. Your ego is a drowsy cat, tucked under a patch of sunlight, purring as its heavily pet all over. Muscles lax, borderline liquid as you moan with the training your rear clench receives. More lube is added when the previous pour dries up, shoved into the spasming sphincter, accompanying every lewd ministration used to loosen it.

You gasp, loosening and wet. When fingers exchange for a dick that’s packed, solid as steel, Miguel captures you into another teeming kiss. It’s to occupy you through the temporary pain, you know, suckling your tongue into his mouth with a gentleness unbecoming of your current lechery. The pressure soon subsides, ebbing and waning to an easier to manage fullness.

Fuck. You’re plugged on both ends, twin lengths driving into you, stroking each other through the thin wall separating your rectum from your vagina. Initially, they keep the same pace, working in tandem to strike and pull out at similar times – but the task is demanding. It prevents them from fully forfeiting to euphoria. Their nature soon takes over, a novel motley of priorities wrenching you apart.

Miguel goes unrushed, sybaritic, fucking you in waves of doughy passion. He knocks against your g-spot, groaning at the way you flounder. The system unspools a little emotional well, tugging heartstrings until you bite his collar to quell your wails. He’s dedicated, a professional in the trade of you; his cielita – the term of endearment mumbled on your temple, lips pressed there in a perpetual kiss.

And Mig–

Bless him.

He’s unhinged, ravished by the feeling of your gummy walls flexing around him. Consistently refreshing the lube that makes it possible, petrified at the notion that this could perhaps stop, doing all he can to counter it. His method is rough, fast, pelvis smacking your plush behind – of which Miguel has long since let go of. There’s emotion in the way he behaves too; a wild, unspoken, behemoth thing, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. Not the anal, but you, specifically, panting in his embrace.

(‘You’re just different back home.’)

Your husband might’ve been too quick to judge. If what you suspect is true – which it likely is, an assumption based on an inextricable fondness you’d felt when you first saw the younger man, like you were made to love every version him, in every timeline – then his haste is not innocent clumsiness, but a more dangerous prospect. Desperation. Crestfallen, degenerate desperation. He hadn't the chance to feel any of you before tonight, for one melancholic reason or another.

“M’not… w-won’t last long, beautiful.” He whispers between pecks, peppering them across your nape.

“N-No, me neither.” Whimpering, you twist to scrutinise his tousled appearance. “Want you to cum in me. Fill me so I sp-spend days scooping you out. D-Don’t wanna fo… Need to remember this.”

“Fuck… you can’t talk like that and– and expect me not to embarrass m-myself.”

“Isn’t she something,” Miguel joins, smoothing the stray baby hairs away from your sticky forehead, callused fingers grazing deliciously across sweaty skin. It’s now that you choose to regard their voices, the subtle variations between the two. One deeper than the other – smoked with a prominent accent that jumps at the end of every syllable. “Filthy, dirty little girl. We could stay like this ‘till tomorrow and she’d have no problem. Would bounce on our cocks until she milks us dry.”

“Y’probably need it to keep you in shape– Hmnff!” Is how Mig strangles, cut off as you convulse around his thrusting length. The mass returns, settled in your cunt – a star verging on supernovae level catastrophe, about to implode while they participate in a literal dick measuring contest.

“Watch it, wide eyes.”

“Shuuu… shutup, shtp!” You keen, falling back on the chest of your paramour while Miguel fondles – slaps – your tits, mesmerised by the way they jiggle, your entire body jostled as their fat cocks jam you full.

“Is my girl going to cum?” One says. You can’t tell which, eyes squeezed shut, though you don’t think Mig would dare use that pronoun. My. Not in good conscience, not when he didn’t kiss you for fear that it’d be crossing a boundary.

“I swear I’ll burst if you squirt again.”

“Don’t expect too much from her in this state.” The trigger to it all, that aching bundle of nerves mashed against your husband’s pubes, starts buzzing with electric urgency. You brace yourself for the lightning, the shock. “Silly thing, can’t begin to form words let alone ideas. Look at me, corazón. What do we say?”

You don’t know. You can’t care. No flying fucks exist outside the devastating wreck that’s about to transform you, squalling loud and shrill from every organ that still retains its function. Heart fluttering like a baby bird’s wings. Lungs depressing into shrivelled cavities. Soreness gnaws on your cervix, abused by successive thrusts. Your bones feel like mush, macerated under mortar and pestle and dissolved in blood.

It’s coming, that celestial calamity.

Mig agrees, gasping. “I’m gonna–”

“Oye. What do we say?” Miguel exhorts, catching your glassy-eyed stare with his.

The former man barks your name, completely winded. Your asshole jerks on his cock, which twitches inside of you, ready to blow. Sopping with lube and pre-spend, spit and your own slick, you can’t control the syphoning noises your holes make, blubbering on the cocks that split you apart.

It’s then the words finally find you – manners that your husband insists on.

“Pleeaase.” You cry.

“Fuck!”

Thick spurts of fluid coat your insides, wrung from the man behind you. His cum is blistering, burning the thin layer between him and Miguel – who surprisingly, given the control he’s exhibited thus far, follows suit, pumping you full of his seed. Your womb and rectum, the puffy folds and rim that try to keep it all in – are all frosted with pearlescent spend. Heady and dripping, staining a depraved mess on every crevice between your legs. Gross globs of it caking you, your skin barely visible anymore.

The thought alone – of two men’s essence, beckoned and bled out by you, mixing something disgusting on your most intimate parts – is enough to kick you off the edge. Flailing off that cliff, plummeting into an outburst that lets nothing escape. Not smell, or taste, or light – spinning a black hole of groundbreaking proportions.

You orgasm, again and again – or maybe the whole thing is all just one prolonged, feral, exhausting endeavour. Cumming until your muscles physically give out, going paraplegic with the strain of constant contractions. You crumple, sandwiched between two sturdy chests, stuffed with cotton and sex and pure endorphins, flying with no sign of ever coming down.

A siren's song – sleep, calling to you from the depths of consciousness – almost pulls you under. That is, until your husband manoeuvres you onto your back again, spreading your legs in a near split to expose your sloppy holes to your paramour. His expression is doused with reverence. Supple, soft, the tiniest bit guilty at the sight of you, desecrated by their combined efforts.

“Well?” Miguel prods, fanning your leaking cunt and asshole out wider. “Are you waiting for her to absorb it all? Clean it up.”

And – for the last time that night – Mig does as he’s told, ducking to gather every last bit of proof with his tongue.

Much later, you watch him pull his shirt over his head, snuggled close to your husband. The sky has deepened to its darkest form – midnight, a gibbous moon cushioned amidst glimmering stars.

“Well, it’s been fun.” The man sighs, brushing imaginary lint off his abdomen. He winks at you before turning to leave, testing his luck now that it can’t backfire on him. “If you ever want to trade him in for a newer model, you know where to find me.”

Miguel just grumbles beneath you, displeasure rumbling the hollows of his hairy sternum. You, on the other hand, smile gently, giving the parting gift of your humour.

Only for something better to occur to you. When his grasp closes around your bedroom door knob, you call out – voice a faint, hoarse thing.

“Mig.” You say.

“Yeah?” He replies, blinking back at you.

“I think you should go for it.”

And all your mild musings are confirmed when he nods, sheepish, like a child caught with a fist in the cookie jar. It’s okay – you mouth, because you know. Whoever you are on his Earth, with whatever cosmic odds stacked against you, you’ll fall. If only because it’s Miguel. Mig. Your O’Hara – such truth woven into the fabric of every conceivable reality.

Your husband catches on quickly, patting your sleepy head. It’s the first time he talks to himself with a tone that isn’t condescending, laying a sentiment you recognise as meaning more to his younger counterpart than anything you could say. Perhaps because it’s kind, a bit of proper advice made mushy by an echoed devotion to you. Or, perhaps because he’s witnessed the evidence to it consistently, all night long. Wide eyes.

“It’ll be the best thing you’ll ever do for yourself.”

part two

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