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a filthy one-off starring Arrogant!Rockstar!Eddie x Snarky!Rockstar!Gareth x AFAB!Reader that literally came to me in a dream and hasn’t left my horny brain alone since

CW: Female pronouns, An absurd amount of pet names, Light Dom/Bratty Sub dynamics (I mean very light), Mean Eddie and Gareth (initially), Taunting, Banter, Vaginal fingering, Oral (F receiving), Protected P in V sex, Rough sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Spit Kink(ish), Voyeurism, I mean — it’s a filthy threesome, there’s bound to be more but that’s basically it

Word Count: 15k

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader, Rockstar!Gareth Emerson x AFAB!Reader, and enough banter and sultry looks and touches to make it Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!Gareth Emerson x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You’ve heard of the classic Same Bed Trope? Well, what would you call it when all you expect to do is fall asleep in luxury after a missed flight, only to find the room already occupied? Same Hotel Room Trope?

Great. Cause here it is.

The hours of trouble are now suddenly worth it.  Even as your heavy eyes threaten to slip closed, you thumb the button to the penthouse suite with enthusiasm and admittedly, some excitement.  Maybe losing your shit and bursting into tears in front of the United Airlines attendant was the way to go, especially if it gave you a voucher for dinner so cash-laden, you know you’ll never be able to spend it all.

Not to mention, the fucking penthouse suite at the Park Hyatt.  

Okay, so maybe it’s not the penthouse, but it is still a suite.  The view the attendant promised of Lake Michigan from the floor-to-ceiling windows is the best in the city, and you’re ultimately grateful for the accommodations they made to put you up for the night.  Plus – it’s definitely a far cry from The Marriott in Hilton Head, South Carolina.

Which is where you were headed for your work conference before your flight got delayed and made you miss your connecting.

Heaving one last heavy sigh to the ceiling of the elevator, you again remind yourself that all is not lost.  Missing one day of a conference isn’t so bad.  You’ll use this to your advantage – shower in luxury, maybe even apply your pumpkin enzyme mask and give yourself a little spa-treatment in that luxurious soaking bathtub you spied at check-in.  As your fingers fumble to get that pleasant little click and green light combo on the door lock, you soothe the ache in your feet and the fatigue in your bones with a promise that no matter what, you’ll be fast asleep as soon as your head hits the plushy pillows on that king size bed.

That is, until you’re shocked wide awake with the sight of two dark-dressed men lounging on the plush leather couch, legs spread and bodies relaxed as if they were expecting you.

Which clearly, they weren’t.

Two sets of eyebrows shoot sky high at the sight of you at the door, stunned more by the way you screech,

“What in the fuck –!”

The taller man (you think, anyway) with the slender frame and bambi eyes isn’t terribly fazed.  Annoyance clips at his tone as he sighs, jostling the freshly rolled joint between his full cherry lips.

“Y’lost, sweetheart?”

The surprise of the presence of two denim-clad strangers only intensifies as he addresses you with all the nonchalance in the world.  Stumbling over your words, you finally eek out a spluttering What the fuck – 

– before the shorter, stockier male with a thick silver hoop in his bottom lip snaps at you like a chained junkyard dog.  

“Get the fuck out of our room!”

“Wh-what?”  You hate how your lower lip trembles, at the mercy of the adrenaline that surges through your system.  “No!  No,” you attempt to explain, “this is my room –”

Lip ring scoffs; a haughty catch that rasps deep in his throat.  “Guarantee you, it’s not.”

At least the adrenaline has afforded you some spunk.  Matching this asshole’s condescension, your upper lip curls in a sneer as you flash him the keycard still pinched between your fingers, waving it in front of your face for proof.

“Well, then explain how I just got in here!”

The same man shrugs, tossing a thumb at his friend, boyfriend, next murder victim, whatever with the long, midnight curls.  “You stole it from him, somehow.”  That menace with the piercing blue eyes leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.  “It’s a little desperate, if you ask me.  Eddie likes the chase, not pussy provided to him on a silver platter.”

Eddie – apparently, you wouldn’t put it past that sharp-tongued shithead to lie about names – snorts through his nose (ringed nose, you spot a sliver of delicate silver adorning his left nare) as he adjusts his legs to splay wider across his cushion.  Appraising you with an obvious flick of whiskey brown up and down your frame, he scoffs. 

“Hardly a silver platter.” Your nose wrinkles.  Okay, so the messy bun perched on top of your head is undoubtedly in a right state; you’re aware of that.  You’ve spent the better part of the day traveling, for Christ’s sake.  It stings, how he points out something so obvious – though you refuse to let your hand tend to it.  You wouldn’t dare give them the satisfaction.

Instead, you meet those intense espresso eyes with a furious stare of your own.  “Um, rude.”  You take a grounding breath before demanding, “What are you assholes even talking about?”  

A slow, cocky grin slithers across his features.  “Lemme spell it out for you, sweetheart.”  You recoil at the eponym, his intention clearly made in how he spits it out like it’s burned his tongue.  “You came to our show, you obviously liked what you saw, and you followed us back here.  I gotta say, I admire the tenacity, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

That so figures, these egotistical sons of bitches are musicians.  “Wh–what fucking show?”  You shake your head to accentuate your bewilderment. “I haven’t been anywhere but the goddamn airport today!  My connecting to Hilton Head got missed because my stupid fucking flight took off an hour late.”  Chest heaving, you tilt your head to the side.  “Says a lot about your observation skills.  I’m literally standing here with a big ass suitcase and a carry-on.  Who the fuck goes to a show with that?”

He – Eddie, you remind yourself – lifts an unbothered shoulder.  “Still doesn’t excuse the fact that you broke into a rockstar’s room.”  Long fingers splay over his heart.  “While I am flattered, I stand by what I said.  Desperate little fangirl with a weak-ass sob-story, just trying to get into my pants.”  He flashes you his teeth.  “A tale as old as time.”

That gets a guffaw so obnoxious from the lip-ringed idiot it makes your blood boil.  In spite of yourself, eyes flick down his frame to take in his outfit.  Black OpalInSky shirt.  Tight, ripped black denim jeans.  Chains.  An exorbitant amount of chains.  Black socks and thick-soled black combat boots that lay at rest near his feet.  

And a chunky, glittering set of fucking rings on some stupidly long fingers.  

Which reminds you what’s still held in yours.  “How many keys did you get when you checked in?”

“What?”

“Pay attention, sweetheart,” you snap with the sweetest venom in your tone.  “How many keys did you get?”

“Two.”

Now it’s you that cocks a thin-lipped grin.  “Show me.”

A sardonic string of dry snickers tumble from his lips as he lists towards lip ring, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket.  “She’s bossy.  She’s kinda growin’ on me, Gare.”

“You like ‘em mean, that’s for sure.”

Seriously?  The audacity of these two.  “I’m literally standing right here –”

Those deft fingers flip open his leather billfold. “Oh, pipe down, princess.”  Eddie tosses two sleek, navy blue cards on the table.  “Well, wouldja look at that?  Two cards.  This doesn’t prove –”

Your own keycard and the cardboard holder join the identical pair on the table, bulging with the heft of a folded-up receipt.  “Go ahead,” you snip. “Look.”

You’re surprised that he obeys.  While he scans the contents, you can’t help but feel a lurch in your belly, as if your proof won’t be enough.  “This is my room.  Please,” you say as your shoulders slump with fatigue, dropping your carry-on to the floor with a muffled thump, “just please leave.  If you’re like, in a band or something I’m sure they’d be more willing to cater to you than just someone they had to put up for the night.”

The blue-eyed boy grins, shifting on the couch to throw a casual arm behind Eddie.  “Nah, I think he’s good here.”

Your eyes practically bug out of your head.  “Are you – do you not see the literal receipt I just gave him –”

“You might be surprised at the lengths we’ve seen chicks go to to be in this exact situation –”

“I highly doubt you’re that big of a deal.” “Honey, we’re the leading men of Corroded Coffin,” that crooked smile would be hot if it wasn’t attached to someone so assholishly brash.  “I assure you, we are that big of a deal.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” you spit, “have no fucking idea who you are.”

“That’s a shocker,” he laughs as those crystalline eyes dance with mirth.  “You probably wouldn’t know metal music if it bit you in the face.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you bite back, “Metal?  Are you kidding me?  You look more like someone who’d open for a shitty emo cover band.”

Gareth barks a laugh, and a curious flutter beats against your ribs, satisfied you got such a genuine sound out of him.  Before you can dwell much on that feeling, Eddie waves his hand.  

“Children, please,” though he sounds bored, his eyes betray him.  The stare he gives you is loaded.  “Now, sweetheart –”

“Don’t – ugh,” you groan.  If you were to stomp your foot, you would look every bit as petulant as you feel.  “Stop calling me that.”

That ringed hand comes to rub along the stubble on his jawline.  “Whatever the lady wants.” A dimple pops in his left cheek when he murmurs your name.  “Relax.”

Oh, that’s rich.  You can feel your body tense, your blood pressure rising as you practically screech, “Did you just tell me to relax?”

Midnight curls frame his face as he leans forward onto his knees.  “Yes,” he reiterates lowly, the browns in his irises darken as he looks at you through his eyebrows.  There’s a subtle dominance, a shift in his demeanor, and though he’s still seated on the couch, that tone he uses compels your attention like he’s standing over you. “I said, relax.  We’ll get this sorted out.”

The sandy-haired man tips his head back against the cushions, lolling to the side as he mutters, loud enough for you to hear, “Maybe y’should get her to relax, Ed.”  He pins you in place with a Cheshire grin.  “She looks like she’s wound so fucking tight she’s gonna explode. ”

What you mean to say is, No.  Get out of my room.  Don’t speak to me like that.  Or even a, Shut your stupid, sexy mouth before I bite that goddamn ring right out of your face would have sufficed.  

Okay, maybe not that last part, but the way that asshole keeps tonguinging it is starting to drive you a little mad, and not necessarily in a bad way.  

But, you don’t say any of that.  

Instead, your hackles are up as you reactively retort, “Your lazy fuckboy skills couldn’t get me to come if you tried.”

A heavy silence buzzes in your ear; a dreaded feeling that you’ve gone too far prickles heat up your neck before blooming into your cheeks.  

Eddie’s features split wide in a sinister grin, as though watching you squirm is enjoyable.  “Interesting,” he muses softly, sending a thrill down your spine.

“Please…” shame threatens to muck up your vocal chords, and it’s an effort to fight over the weak rasp and warble to petition for their mercy.  Still, you’re firm in how you demand, “Just leave.”

There’s no mercy at the bottom of seaglass and dark honey, only this taunting sort of dominance that has your heart hammering wild in your chest.  “Do you mean that?” Eddie asks with a brazen tilt of his head, “y’really want us to leave?”

Your jaw swings open on its hinges, at the ready to fire back with all the confidence in the world.  How they haven’t realized this, gotten it through their thick skulls is beyond you – all you want is to crash on that bed and wrap yourself in that duvet that looks like it would swallow you whole.  

Funny – because that’s precisely how both of these men look right now as they wait for your response.

Your very delayed response.  “Yes,” you manage to choke out, drawing a snicker from the asshole to Eddie’s left who still hasn’t told you his name.  

Not that you care.

A subtle scrape of metal against enamel, Eddie clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the way he slowly works it over his words showcases the silver bar and ball in its center.  “Nah, I don’t think you do.”

The air turns dense, suddenly laden with promise.  “What?”

Eddie feels it too, it radiates off his lithe form in waves.  “I propose to you a deal, sweetheart.”  The deep timbre in his voice rumbles through your chest.  “You’ll get the room.  Fair and square, because it does look like the hotel fucked up.  Honest mistake, you can surely imagine that those happen, can’t you?”

It’s as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe.  “I –”

He presses on as if you’ve kept silent.  “You’ll get the room if, and only if, I’m not able to extract that stick from your ass and use these lazy fuckboy skills to make you come.”

To punctuate his point, he wiggles those ring-clad fingers, smirking as you stammer, “That – that’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Eddie shrugs.  “But something you’re entertaining.  Isn’t she, Gareth?”

The man who now has a name raises an eyebrow suggestively, making a point to slowly drag his tongue over his lower lip as he stares you down.  “She certainly looks like she’s entertaining it.”

Oh, this little shit.  White hot denial, thick and heady, is sluggish as it courses through your veins.  It’s maddening how it delays your vehement, “No, I’m not –”

“Yeah, I think you are.”  Eddie interrupts your pitiful rejection, confident in the way he matches Gareth’s reclined position on the couch.  Arms splay out wide, palms to the ceiling in smug supplication.  “Those are the terms.”  After a beat, he extends a hand across the designer coffee table.  “Whaddya say?”

It only takes a moment of consideration before your upper lip curls in disgust, refusal found and sharp as you slap his offering away.  “Fuck you and fuck this.  Get out of my room.”

Gareth guffaws as the crack of skin on skin echoes off the high ceilings.  “I think we struck a nerve.  Been awhile since you had someone other than that vibrator in that front pocket of your carry-on make you come, yeah?”

You suck in a breath through your teeth, unable to mask the shock of his accuracy.  “I – no, I don’t –”

“Gare Bear, be nice,” Eddie admonishes as the saccharine sweetness drips from his canines.  “We can be nice, I promise.”  

You don’t believe him for a second.  “I sincerely doubt that.”

A subtle pitch of his hips forward has Eddie shifting his position on the couch, and you could curse yourself at how swiftly your eyes flick to the impressive mass straining behind his fly.  That devilish smirk on his face only grows wider – and you know he’s clocked your stare.  

“Oh, but you’re wondering, aren’t you?  Wondering if I can back all this talk up?”

“You can’t.”

“I can.  In fact, I can be so nice to you in so many different ways.”  He tosses you a wink.  “So many different positions.  Baby, I’ll have you losing count of how many times you come.”  

Your mouth drops agape, your stare oscillating to Gareth like he’s going to refute this, apologize for his bandmate’s filthy mouth, do anything but look as smug as he does while he watches you fight for words.   

“Oh, don’t worry about Gare,” Eddie mistakes your stunned silence, thumbing over to his bandmate.  “He’ll sit pretty and just watch.”

That lip ring twists into a frown, lasting but a moment before Gareth schools his expression back into a cocky grin.  “Critique, you mean.”

Eddie snorts as he digs an elbow into Gareth’s side.  “Fuck you, asshole.”

Their banter gives you a moment to breathe.  “I – no,” you mutter, pushing a defiant breath out of your nose before reiterating more firmly, “no.”

“Y’sure about that?”

It’s appalling how you’re standing in the very same place you started, feet sewn to the floor while the circumstances of the evening whirl around you as if you’re not even there.  Just moments ago, you were so sure all you wanted to do was unwind in peaceful solitude, lose yourself in luxury you hardly ever afford yourself in reality.  Now, standing here in front of these two irritatingly arrogant men – you’re wired, buzzing with electricity that sends potent little zings to your toes.  Your heart is pounding, pulsing your exasperation through your vessels to throb a relentless rhythm in your core so strong it aches.

It aches for more, so much more than that earlier version of you ever dreamed of wanting. Truthfully, you’re not all that surprised.  You know how you allowed it to happen; egged it on, even.   

Actions, meet consequences.  

Plural.

A steely set of sky-blue eyes is laser-focused on how your chest heaves, offering nothing to his friend’s previous question.  Gareth angles his body, purposefully close; his defined cupid’s bow brushing the helix of Eddie’s ear.  

“I think that’s our answer.”

A dark, deep hum rattles in the other man’s throat.  “Last chance, sweetheart.”  Broad palms softly smack against denim as Eddie makes a show of lifting himself off the couch to stand at his full height.  A long, lean finger drags under your jawline, and you flinch at the contact before he’s crooking it under to softly tip your chin upwards.  His voice adopts a gravelly husk.  “Tell us to stop, and I’ll go down to the desk right now and sort it out.  Promise you, I will.”  The mood shifts as those deft fingers grab your chin, a sensual flare of heat licks at your insides as he slowly runs the calloused pad of his thumb along your bottom lip.  “Or, tell me to fuck you.  Tell me to take care of you like you deserve.”  Midnight curls, softer than you ever imagined, brush the sensitized skin of your cheek when he comes closer, guiding his thumb past your lips as he whispers in your ear.  “Tell me to make you come.”

A soft, feminine moan is wrenched from your depths as you taste him.  Eddie’s skin is ripe with salt and musk and man, his essence he spreads over your tongue as he reaches deeper.  The roughness of his thumb is exquisite, this dynamic even more so – and you lean into it, locking his lustful gaze as you hollow your cheeks and suck.  Eddie scoffs under his breath, pressing farther back to test your limits.  When you don’t gag despite his depth, a corner of his mouth lifts in approval.

Gareth watches with rapt attention, stifling a grunt as your heavy-lidded eyes lock in his fiery stare.  He matches Eddie, lips stretched wide to bare his teeth while his hand rests over an obvious bulge behind the fly of his jeans.  

He never breaks eye contact.  “Oh, she’s gonna be so good for us, Ed.”

“She already is.”  Slipping the calloused pad over your tongue once, twice – before drawing it back over your lips, he gently prods for your consent.  “She’ll be even better if she tells us with her words what she wants.”

It’s already been decided, but you indulge him, never once breaking that intense umber stare.  “Okay,” you reply, barely above a whisper from the breath you’ve lost, but still somehow firm.  “Try to make me come.”

Eddie’s whole face, though still darkened with lust, lights up with your answer.  He draws in a shaky inhale, on the cusp of saying more, when his bandmate butts in.

“Sorry,” Gareth exaggerates cupping his hand behind his ear, “I can’t hear you from all the way over here.”

“Oh my god,” you scowl, tearing yourself away from this breathtaking moment with Eddie to pin Gareth in a withering glare. “If you would shut your fucking mouth for two seconds, you’d be able to hear me just fine.”

Eddie lets an amused huff escape as he leans in, plush lips ghosting the shell of your ear.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve got a little crush on my drummer.” Reactively, your nipples pucker at his accusation, moreso as his tone drops. “Be nice, now.  He likes ‘em sweet.”

Usually, you are.  So kind and affectionate.  There’s just something about Eddie that has you acting out, wanting and needing to be abrasive and defiant.  Like he wants it that way, like he’s guiding you into a realm you’ve rarely explored.

So it feels right to stay vigilant, angling your set jaw towards him as you vow, “I don’t plan to be sweet tonight.”

The chuckle that slips through his plush lips is downright villainous.  “Atta girl.”

Dropping your chin, the taller man slinks away to flip on a lamp at the bedside.  Gareth materializes next to you, nearly startling you with how softly he croons your name.  

“Here, honey.  Follow Eddie over to the bed and I’ll take this for you, hmm?”  Warmth from his fingers caresses your hand where you’ve protectively gripped the handle of your carry-on.  The smile he gives you is strangely genuine, soothing any lingering unease once you’re over the initial shock of his kindness. “S’okay,” he murmurs.  “You can trust us.  You say stop and we’re gonna stop.  Okay?”

You warily search those ice-blue depths for any signs he’s messing with you.  The other shoe doesn’t drop – those crystalline eyes sparkle with sincerity.  Your grip slackens; silent permissions are granted with a tiny curl of your lips.  

Letting your wanton stare linger on his lips, you run your tongue along the edge of yours before affirming, “I’m not gonna want you to stop.”

“Fuck.”  Sandy-blonde curls dance around the apples of his cheeks with a smart shake of his head, swearing again under his breath as he picks up your luggage.  “Good girl.”

Gareth’s praise sears hot through your system, pooling at your core.  You keep a coy eyebrow raised while he carries your bags to the hall closet, watching how the muscles of his shoulders and back ripple under his charcoal gray tee as he maneuvers the heavy tote.  Staring longer than intended, there’s mirth in how Eddie breaks the spell with a gritty call of your name. 

Summoning you over with an intentional waggle of his middle and ring fingers, you fight a massive eye roll before crossing the spacious room to where he stands near the king-size bed.  He wastes no time, using those long arms to pull you flush against his body.

“Last chance,” he’s panting, the thrumming of his heart can be felt under your palms that are mashed against his chest, “you want this?”

You don’t hesitate.  “Yes.”

“Good.”

Bracing yourself for impact, you tense.  The expectation is for him to be rough, unbound with his passion that has smoldered in his dark chocolate eyes since you walked through that door.  Instead, you’re met with intention, with care as Eddie cups his hand around the back of your skull and slots his impossibly plush lips against yours.  

It’s soft and sensual; there’s passion, only different than you expected.  He’s careful in how he moves, how his free hand wanders over the material of your hoodie; up your arm, down your spine, across your waist in such languid, teasing strokes that you almost wish he’d be more aggressive.

Almost.

Because this?  It’s heaven.  It’s fireworks and bliss and a whole different level of contentment that has you sighing deeply as your fingers tangle into that beautiful mess of curls.  Groaning deep in his chest, Eddie deepens the kiss, licking at your lips to allow him to explore the honeyed recesses of your mouth.  

And explore he does.  

You feel his presence a fraction of a second before you feel his first touch.  Gareth brackets you against Eddie from behind, his hot breath fanning over the dewy skin of your neck before you’re treated to the softest press of lips over your flesh.  His kisses draw a current from his mouth to your center, made all the more intense as he runs both hands up, up, up and into your hair.  You groan as deft fingers unwind your hair tie, and again – louder for Eddie to swallow – when they settle against your scalp, rubbing tired strands into relaxation, coaxing them to cascade in untidy waves over your shoulders.

He’s so good at this.  He’s too good at this.  Dueling sensations mix in a homogenous blend of pleasure so deep you’re dizzy while you stand.  Where one kisses you senseless, the other makes you senseless – his blunted nails dragging over your scalp again and again until you’re nothing better than putty in their hands.

Fuck orgasms, you think wryly to yourself, just do this all night and I’ll be happy.

Undressing you is a dance, a cool coordination of flawless effort.  Shoes and socks are shed by one while the other occupies your mouth with his lips, only to then be guided with the gentlest of touches to the other while the zipper of your hoodie is slowly slipped down and away.  Push and pull, back and forth; the two men are perfectly in sync like they’ve often done this together before.  It should bother you, it should make you feel cheap or unspecial.  As Eddie directs you back to Gareth’s lips, you expect insecurity to trickle in, especially as he hooks those ringed fingers into the band of your leggings and tugs them over your thighs.  No doubt you’re a dime a dozen for these two – merely another groupie, looking for a quick fuck – just like they said.  

Insecurity never comes; it’s as absent as your shame.  Even though you know in your heart it’s a one-off, you’ll go back to your life and they’ll go back to theirs – the reverence in every grasp, every stroke, every caress says otherwise.  You don’t feel cheap or used as Eddie’s hands ghost over your curves, or when Gareth’s lips tickle the skin on the back of your neck.

Sighing when you’re once again led to Eddie’s mouth, you concede you’ve lost the bet before it’s really even begun.  In this moment, you feel cherished.  Sensual.  Desired.  A goddess meant to be worshiped.  It’s been so long since you’ve felt lust like this ignite in your belly, pooling arousal slick and hot between your legs.

It’s foolish and it’s atypical for you – but fucking hell does it feel so good.  

You crack a small smile into his plush pursed lips, wiggling while Gareth’s fingers run a blazing trail under the path of your tee – up your sides, down the slope of your chest, over the expanse of your waist and hips and back again.  It tickles, but in the best way – pleasure sparks hot and bright, concentrating to heat the desire that licks at your core.  

Finally, Gareth pulls your shirt over your head, and you swear you hear him snicker as it comes off.

You’re more breathy than you realize as you ask, “What?”

“Nothin’,” he muses with a smirk as he folds it with surprising care and sets it on the dresser.  “Interesting choice.”

“I like Tool,” you breathe, sighing airly as the sultry warmth of Eddie’s mouth explores every dip and valley of your chest that’s now bared to him.  

Gareth settles in the chair in the corner, his piercing baby blues remain fixed on you.  “Sure ya do.”

Ire and pleasure roll to a boil in your belly, the heat from the two distinct emotions nearly indecipherable.  “Oh, are you gonna be that douche that tells me to name five songs because I’m we-ear – oh, fuck –” you lose yourself properly when Eddie ducks his head to close his lips over your nipple.  Your tone swings up an octave as you finish, “their band tee?”

The gravel in the drummer’s tone baits you further.  “Nothing would delight me more.”

“You asshole –” 

Stealing a sharp glance at Gareth, you’re immediately rewarded; pride prickles in tiny puckered dimples over your skin.  The sight of you, nearly-naked in just your underwear, body bowing to Eddie’s tongue and teeth and hands has affected him tremendously.  His face is flushed, hips canting of their own accord for relief as he palms over his denim-covered cock.  

Eddie senses your distraction and immediately puts an end to it.  “Gareth,” he grits, “shut up and just watch.”  

Spinning you where you stand, he holds you tightly against his frame, the surprising strength in the arm over your collarbones renders you immobile.  The anticipation is thick and heady, sawing the breath in and out of your lungs as you wait for his next move.  Gareth watches it all, every rise and fall of your chest, every reflexive shiver Eddie’s touch sends through your core.  Lust clouds the vibrant blue of his irises, staining them gray.  It changes his whole appearance; he almost looked boyish before, but now?

Sitting in that chair is a man – a primal, wanting man that is wound so tight you think he might explode.  There’s no hiding how turned on he is, and with a wave of satisfaction, through the haze of desire you recognize it’s you that affects him this way.

It drives you crazy, especially as Eddie runs his free hand over your breasts, roughened pads of his agile fingers pinch and flutter over pert nipples with such precision that your head topples back to rest against his shoulder.

Though your eyes slip closed, you can feel his smile as he nuzzles your temple.  “Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhh,” you hum, not so lost to his erotic ministrations that you can’t feign some indifference, “feels fine, I guess.”

Tandem scoffs tickle the newfound part of your brain that’s so intent on pushing buttons.  It thrills you, how Eddie reacts with a firm press of his forearm against your chest and a rut of his erection over your ass.

“Feels fine, I guess,” Eddie mocks in a soft soprano rendition of your voice before dropping his timbre to roll like thunder.  “We’ll see about that.”  Dipping his hand over the soft of your belly, he toys with the elastic of your underwear before dragging his hand lower to cup over your pussy.  Fingers explore the wetness gathered here with tantalizing accuracy, his touch over your aching core so exquisite it’s a tremendous effort not to moan out his name.

His index swipes along your seam, pressing at the apex just enough to send a shock of pleasure coursing through your veins.  Crooking the soaked fabric at its hem, he pulls it aside and runs that same digit through your folds.  

“Fuck, she’s so wet, Gare,” his murmur is tainted with a sandpaper rasp. “Christ, sweetheart, this all for us?”

Gathering your slick, he runs it back and forth with a touch so light drives you wild.  To keep the noises that beg to pour from your lips, you sink your teeth into the plush of your bottom, hard enough a coppery tang bursts over your tongue.  Your pussy betrays you, the slick sounds Eddie makes as he dips his pad at your entrance are obscene and present and loud.

“Can hear her pussy from here,” Gareth flashes a wicked grin in your direction.  “You’re gonna come in record time, honey.”

Words elude you at a time like this, all you can give him is an abrupt shake of your head.  

“Gonna be so easy for ‘im,” he goads, “Eddie’s fingers are magic.”

As if on cue, Eddie’s longest finger locates your clit and weaves the gentlest figure eights.  He doesn’t even flinch as your nails dig into his forearm, clinging harder to his hold to stay upright.  It’s all at once so much and not enough, and your hips buck reactively in search for more.  Adrenaline crackles through your veins as you tip Gareth a sardonic smile.  “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

Gareth grunts, a pause before he retorts an equally wry, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You’re cute,” you huff, desperately trying to wash the bliss out of your tone as Eddie firmly presses tight circles over your bud, “confusing me with someone who actually gives a – ohhh shit –”

A pornographic moan spills over your slackened lips as Eddie sheaths two thick fingers deep inside your cunt.  They slide in with no resistance, satisfying that throbbing ache with the most delicious of intrusions.  He fills you, stretches you, massages your walls like he knows already what makes your blood run hot. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, setting a torturously slow rhythm.  “You taunting my drummer again?”

You couldn’t answer him if you tried.  Eddie taunts you instead, dragging his fingers in and out of your needy hole, the heel of his hand providing pressure over your clit as he bottoms out.  “I think that gets you hot, thinking you can rile him up.”  A deft crook of his fingers against your front wall has you keening.  “And maybe you can, but baby… right now, you’re mine.  I’m the one knuckle-deep inside this cunt, playing you like a fiddle.  I’m the one that’s got your pussy clenching around me, around my fingers.”  

There’s no lie – you could hate how right he is if it didn’t feel so goddamn divine.  “Already have you so far gone.  Christ, look at you.”  Pausing the thrusting of his digits, he opts to keep them buried, scissoring and driving into that oversensitized spongy wall that makes you see stars.  “Yeah, that’s it, huh?  Do I have it?  Do I have you all figured out?”

You figured you had time, that standing practically naked with an audience would distract you from your orgasm well enough to draw this out.  The fact is, there is no time – Eddie’s fingers are honed in on your pleasure, careening you towards release embarrassingly fast.  High and tight sighs fill the room at the end of every precise press of pads over where you need him most. 

Eddie almost sounds bored while his fingers vigorously send you to the edge.  “I know I do.  I knew I would, and here you are – reduced to a sloppy mess on my hand.”  

Labored breaths puff from your nose, your lips clamped shut in an attempt to stifle all the whines and whimpers that beg for release.  “Go on,” Eddie whispers lowly, “say something.  Tease my drummer.  Look at him; look at Gareth for me, sweetheart.”  Your eyes open of their own accord, locking in with steely blue like they’re compelled to obey.  “Keep those eyes open, now.  Want you to look at him, want you to just relax and feel me work you over.  Fuck, that’s right,” he chuffs as a pitchy ahhh involuntarily escapes, “make all those pretty noises for him as I make you come.”

If it hurts him with how deep your nails sink into the sturdy sinew of his arm, he doesn’t show it.  Instead, he keeps his cadence steady, drumming those magic fucking fingers against that spot, spreading molten pleasure like wildfire.  It climbs, the pressurized release within reach – 

Until a familiar rasp from the chair slices through, yanking you back from the edge.  

“She’s closin’ her eyes, Ed.”

Your upper lip curls in disgust, but before you can snark the retort Gareth knows is coming, Eddie’s hand moves swiftly from its grip on your shoulder to grasp along your jaw.  “Now, now,” he growls, adding the most delicious pressure and squeezing your cheeks as he rips your gaze from his bandmate.  “I said keep ‘em open.  Be my good girl and listen to me.”

Umber eyes flash when he feels your body bow to the promise of your orgasm.  Gently, he cradles your chin and returns your fucked-out stare to his friend.  Those fingers never slow, but the heel of his hand shifts, adding just what you need to reach your peak.

“Ohhfuckk,” you fight to keep your eyes trained on baby blue as that white-hot coil winds close to detonation, “fuck, I –”

A choked cry is wrenched from your throat as Eddie pistons his two longest digits with expert precision, adding the perfect balance to the friction he provides against your clit.  Your body submits with the fiery snap of pleasure, pouring it rich and honeyed through your core in waves.  Jaw hanging slack, muted huffs and whines tumble from your lips on the heels of your gasping breaths, not once breaking eye contact with the one who sits stock-still in his chair.  Eddie mercifully keeps up the subtle pump and grind, whispering praise in your ear as you ride out your release on his hand.  

It’s the hardest anyone has ever made you cum, but you’re not about to tell them that.  There’s a good chance the one whose well-inked arm already knows, as he’s now decorated with reddened little half-moons from your nails.  Your head is just as fuzzy as your body, lolling forward to rest against the firm, muscled flesh.  You realize it may be the only thing keeping you upright with how your legs and your insides have turned to jelly.

Between panting breaths, you manage to stammer, “You – you –”

Eddie snickers, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your still-fluttering pussy.  “Yeah?”

“You, Gareth,” throwing all of your remaining fire into lifting your head and finally tossing back a snarky retort that burst into your brain before Eddie’s fingers incinerated it with that orgasm.  “You are such a little bitchboy.  Tattlin’ on me to your daddy like that.  Nearly didn’t come because of you.”

The lines around Gareth’s bright blue eyes crinkle in delight; he throws his head back and matches the booming cackles emanating from Eddie.  You can’t help but grin as well, pride swells in your chest at the way you’ve got both of them to laugh so carefree as they are.  

Gareth pushes off from the chair, stealing you from Eddie and backing you up to the bed.  “God damn, you’re a pain in my ass.”  One playful push has you willfully toppling into the duvet, body sinking into covers so downy soft.  The bed jostles lightly as Gareth crawls up to hover over your frame.  “I fuckin’ love it.”

Kiss-bitten lips connect in a flash with yours, the heat from his mouth so searing it ignites you from the inside.  You match his every move, every twist and tangle of his tongue against yours is met with one of your own.  His taste is divine, so different from Eddie’s but yet just as desirable.  It spurs you on, drives the confidence needed to lick over that silver hoop along his bottom lip and capture it between your teeth.  Gareth moans into your mouth, answering with a teasing nip of his own.  The sting is wanton and your body is begging for more, but before you’re given a chance to revel in it, Gareth moves off of you.  There’s a brief pause in his affections as he shifts, tugging you up to the head of the bed as Eddie settles to kneel on the floor at your feet.  

Gareth cups your face in his hands.  “Open those legs for us, honey,” he rasps into your parted lips, “Eddie wants to make you feel so good.”

You don’t need those hands to help spread you wide, your legs fall apart all on their own.  Humming contentedly as Eddie’s palms run a soothing trail over sensitive skin, you steal a glance at where he lies so close to your sex.  His dark chocolate curls frizz in disarray around his face while heavy-lidded eyes oscillate from you to the soaked middle of your panties.  It’s infuriating how slow he takes it, running the bulb of his nose over your covered slit, placing tender kisses on the trembling flesh of your inner thighs, deliberately delaying the inevitable.

You wish Gareth’s own fingers would work their magic, touch your chest, your nipples, your ribs, anywhere but where he has them tenderly clasped along your jawline.  

Arguing for it isn’t an option.  Your mouth is occupied, your voice lost in the depths of Gareth’s kiss – a would-be distraction if you weren’t so in tune with every sultry puff of breath against your sex.  

As if he timed it, Eddie licks a long, wide stripe over your clothed cunt at the moment your mouth opens to accommodate Gareth’s wandering tongue.  It shatters you in the best way, tearing your lips from his to belt a wanton moan to the ceiling.  You steal the air right from Gareth’s mouth with your gasping inhale, succumbing to the warm, wet heat of Eddie’s tongue as he drags it over the soaked gusset of your panties.  He’s a rascal and you’re sure he knows it, your hips chase that sinful muscle after he makes a show of swirling the tip around your clit before he stretches the thin, silken material of your underwear north with a sly pinch of his fingers.  

That pressure, that gentle rub of fabric against your sex carries such a surprising intensity your hands clench at your sides.  

“Oh, look at that,” Eddie coos, pulling it even tighter over your pussy, “she’s so pretty.  Practically swallowing up your panties, baby.”  Another hot rush of arousal coats the fabric when you hear him rasp, “Gare, come look at this.”

Gareth throws you a wicked look before rolling from his position on top of you to flank Eddie’s side.  Peering over your body, you watch how his chin drops to his chest at the sight of you.  “Fucking Christ,” Gareth unleashes a shuddering breath full of reverence and lust, “give ‘em to me, Ed.”

“Gladly.”  With enviable dexterity, Eddie rips your panties down your legs.  Gareth snatches them from his grasp, shoving his nose directly into the sodden crotch.  The moan he belts is downright vulgar – you’re surprised you haven’t burst into flames.  

While your stare is trained on the man face-deep in that ruined scrap of fabric, Eddie coaxes your thighs wider.  “Oh, sweetheart,” he husks with white-hot vehemence, “I’m gonna fuckin’ devour you.”

You have no time to react to the heat in his words before he’s doing just that – making a mess of your cunt in a blur of mouth and lips and tongue.  It shocks the air from your lungs, the pleasure he builds, lapping and licking every intimate inch of you.  He does it like he’s known your body, like he knows you – and Christ, perhaps he does.  There’s no question in your mind he’s the best you’ve ever fucking had – each wicked undulation of his tongue is met with just enough suction from his mouth and vibrations from his throat, you find yourself tensing against the inevitable.  

Just as before, your orgasm slams into you regardless of how you try to fight it off – the moment Eddie flattens his tongue and rubs the ball of his piercing against your clit, he has you seeing stars.  Every part of your core seizes in effervescent waves, needy walls clamping down on nothing and only intensifying the ache that burns deep within you.  In an effort to mask your pleasure, you hide as much of your face as you can in your pillow, willing Gareth to be looking anywhere else but how your body convulses and spasms against Eddie’s mouth.

As luck would have it, you’re not that fortunate.  Gareth’s whole face ignites as he recognizes what just happened.  

“Holy shit, did you come already?”

You’re hardly yourself, panting and twitching and squirming while Eddie’s tongue dives inside your entrance.  “N-no –”

“You liar,” he half-laughs, feathering the skin near the corners of his eyes with delight.  He snickers as you whine, snatching your hands from where they try to push Eddie’s face out from between your thighs.  “Well, if you say so… Ed, I think you need to suck a little harder on her clit.  She says she hasn’t come yet.”

A knowing rumble emanates from Eddie’s chest.  Without losing his pace, his heavily-lashed lids rise to half-mast, a blackened gaze hones in on how your chest heaves under every deft swipe of his tongue.

“Liar,” he mutters with a mouthful of pussy.

The buzz from his gravelly tone nearly sends you into orbit.  “Fuck, I –” There’s no point in begging, not when Eddie’s swollen lips seal over your swollen clit.  “No – ohh–” 

All higher brain function ceases.  He’s dead set to prove you wrong, make good on all of his promises as that tongue works in perfect tandem with those stupidly plush lips.  There’s nothing left to do, nothing to dampen the overwhelming surges of electric lust that lightning through your cunt.  Ripping your hands from Gareth’s, you do what instinct tells you to do – wind your fingers tight into Eddie’s curls, pull his face closer and ride out the overstimulation on his face. 

It’s still so much, your mouth drops slack from the barrage of sensations.  “No, no, no,” you protest, a mere whisper beneath the lewd, slick sounds of your sex.

Though you’re quiet, Gareth hears it all.  “No?” he feigns concern, “Why’re you saying no?  Is that not enough, you little brat?”  

It’s so utterly enough it’s almost too much.  You feel as if you could levitate with the way Eddie drives you straight into another climax; the pressurized heat of release sears every fiber of your being and has you hoarsely bawling out a string of nonsensical words.

It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s so fucking hot – and all the while there’s still an awareness deep in your subconscious that knows your every expression is being watched.  How that elevates you further – you’re not at liberty to understand, not right now, anyway.  Not while Eddie’s two longest fingers toy at your entrance, gathering ample amounts of your arousal, pushing in to tease at your hole before withdrawing completely.  The heated anticipation is so divine you can’t help but whimper and moan for more.

Apparently, Gareth can’t get enough.  “God damn, listen to you,” he groans reverently, “listen to those sweet little noises – couldn’t hold those back if you tried, huh?  Eddie’s mouth is just too fuckin’ good, isn’t it?”

Thrashing about the downy soft bedding on the cusp of your release, all you’re able to offer are pitchy little ahh, ahhs at the end of your gasping inhales.  

“I asked you a question, honey,” Gareth directs your face out of the pillows and into his gaze that sizzles with desire.  “Answer me.”

You don’t even remember the question at this point.  “I – yes, yes –”

A firm grip cradles your jaw.  “You gonna come again?”

It’s right there, a molten implosion of your being, teetering on the edge.  The white-hot pleasure borders on painful, the answer for that ache reached as soon as Eddie’s fingers found purchase against your sweet spot.  Every muscle in your pelvic floor is bound tight, held fast in a limbo that fights to keep your impending orgasm from wiping you from the face of this earth.

Yeah – it sounds dramatic, but with the way Eddie has your pleasure mounting regardless, you’re not sure you’re going to survive.  Your lips roll inward, your eyes screw shut as that coil wraps and winds to its breaking point.

Gareth chuckles, dark and with intention.  The pad of his finger, smoother than Eddie’s, taps lightly at your cheek.  “Eyes on me.”  

“N-no,” you whimper, knowing that they both have wholly ruined you with this last push over the precipice, “noo no no – ohfuck –!”

Your entire body draws on itself with the sheer force of your orgasm, thighs slamming shut over Eddie’s face.  It isn’t even a wave, it’s a violent shattering of your existence, bowing your back clear off the bed with how hard your muscles contract.  

Gareth is quick to brace one of your legs, while Eddie palms the other.  “Keep them open, baby,” his command sounds almost like it’s spoken underwater, “wanna see you make a mess of him.”

You’re suddenly very aware of a sizable, slow gush of fluid, leaking from between your thighs and the source of the obscene sounds of Eddie’s fingers fucking up into your core.  The lewd, wet squelch of your orgasm drowns out all other sounds.  Or perhaps, it’s the roaring of blood in your ears – you’re not in any state of mind to figure it out.

Eddie lifts his head without stalling his efforts, a self-assured grin befalls his face that’s just soaked in your release.  A mental image of him slathered in your cum is seared into your memory, suspended in time before he dives back in, replacing his tongue at your entrance to lap up every last drop.   He’s loud – so fucking loud – moaning into your pussy like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.  You’re certain he’d keep going, too, if it wasn’t for Gareth.

“Ed,” he rasps, clearing his throat loudly to grab his friend’s attention, “why don’t we get more comfortable before you fuck her brains out?”

As if Eddie hadn’t done that already with his godforsaken mouth. If you weren't still trying to catch your breath, you’d laugh at the irony of it all. 

Eddie huffs a stilted groan into your pussy, making you twitch from the vibrations.  “Splendid idea, Gare.”

The blue-eyed man snorts.  “Such a fuckin’ nerd.”

Eddie hauls himself up from between your legs, his face a shimmering, shining mess of you.  He cocks a grin at his bandmate.  “Just the way you like it.”  Taking his two fingers that were just buried in your pussy, Eddie runs the pads along Gareth’s lower lip before shoving them in his mouth.  “Now suck for me, big boy.”

Gareth grapples at Eddie’s wrist, eyes rolling back as those thick digits disappear between his lips.  Your lids flare as you watch Eddie’s two middle fingers slip and slide between his reddened pout, ridding them of any evidence of you.  

“God damn,” Gareth pops off Eddie’s hand and hones in on your blown-out stare, “you taste so good.”

“Yeah, she does.”  

Eddie moves behind Gareth, slotting his long, lean body against his bandmate’s back.  He’s taller – moreso than you realized, to the point where Gareth rests his fluffy head against Eddie’s collarbone while those magic fingers put on a show, just for you.  Eddie all the while is watching you map his every move – the pop of a button, the slow, southward drag of a zipper, the squeeze and press of fingers into flesh as he takes his time removing those skintight jeans.  Gareth’s thighs are bared, then – so irritatingly thick and defined and smattered with ink.  The intricate designs weave through the soft collection of hair that covers his skin, the sight of it so arousing you feel your need throb traitorously through your core.  

Especially when his shirt comes off, revealing more hard planes of inked skin.  Too distracted to focus on one piece for too long, your eyes hungrily dart and study as much of him as you can before he turns, guiding Eddie into the spotlight of their tandem striptease. 

And tease you, they do.  Delicate touches, heated glances – at you, at each other; they’re sure to draw it out as long as possible.  The desired effect is achieved – you’re sure you’ll wither away with how fucking hot the room has become.  Eddie’s belt, his chains, his jeans – all end up in a heap at his feet.  Gareth has his own set of talented fingers, he tugs at the hem of Eddie’s shirt with one hand while the other draws lazy lines over the tattoo of a beast you can’t quite make out – much of it is lost under the band of his boxer briefs.  Your mouth parts, watching with rapt attention as Gareth’s longest finger traces the art like he’s memorized it.  

You know what he’s doing.  You know Gareth’s intentionally provoking you, an iron prod your desire to stoke it until it roars.  And it is.  He knows it is – fuck that smirk that dances over his perfect lips, because you can’t tear your eyes away from this sensual display of lust if you tried.

The only solace is that this is affecting them just as much as it is you – the cotton of their boxers does little to hide what’s beneath.  Maddeningly impressive bulges protrude to tent the material in wide arcs, straining against their thick, flared tips that barely stay contained beneath barriers of elastic.  

It figures they’re both packing.  It would piss you off if it didn’t make you so goddamn excited.

Once Eddie’s shirt is tossed with the rest, a need digs its claws into your superheated skin.  “Wait,” your sudden interruption stops Gareth’s wandering fingers from slipping beneath Eddie’s waistband.  “Can I?”

Two sets of eyebrows fly beneath matted fringe for the second time tonight.  “Hmm,” Eddie drawls in faux contemplation, shivering as Gareth’s hands suddenly change course to trail between sparse patches of chest hair.  He’s notably a little breathless as he asks, “Think you deserve to unwrap your present, sweetheart?”

Your lips twist into a smirk, shifting to sit on your knees.  “Moreso than Gareth.  He’s not the one getting fucked tonight, is he?”

“Oh,” Gareth’s tone is roughened as he leers at you, “she thinks she’s gonna talk dirty to us, huh Ed?”

“Sounds like it.”  The taller man saunters over to the bed, purposefully angling himself so he’s towering over you.  “Think you can keep up?”

You’re proud of how confident you sound.  “Yes.”

“I’d like that,” the way he bares his teeth is downright sinful. “Wouldn’t you, Gare?”

Gareth joins his bandmate, the ice in his irises is white hot as he replies, “I would.  Open up, honey.”  

It’s only a moment’s hesitation before it clicks; your tongue lolls out past your lips, knowing now precisely what he intends.  A long string of saliva falls from Gareth’s pursed pout, coating your tongue before you make a show of swallowing for him.  “Gotta get you nice and filthy,” he rasps, wiping away what leaked from the corner of your mouth.  

You’re drunk on his touch, not realizing how much you long for more until he pulls his thumb away.  The rest of him follows, allowing you to rake your heavy-lidded gaze down, down, down – unabashedly mapping the outline of his cock as it tests the cotton limits of his boxers.

“Like what you see?”  He rolls his eyes when you try for an unbothered shrug.  “Go ahead then, honey.  Take ‘em off.”

Eddie throws an exaggerated scowl Gareth’s way.  “Thought I was going first.”

“You get to fuck her,” the sanpaper in his tone snaps playfully.  “Don’t get greedy.”  Gareth’s softer as he angles his hips toward your hands.  “You, on the other hand… you can get greedy.”

“Saving the best for last, I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically, a pucker of his full lips doesn’t hide his smirk.

“God,” Gareth bites back, “you’re such a dick.”

“Just for you, sweet cheeks.”

Their exchange is hot, but you’re starting to get antsy.  “Um, excuse me, but if I don’t see dick in the next few seconds, I’m gonna leave.”

Gareth barks a laugh.  “No, you’re not.  You’re practically vibrating, you’re so eager to see our cocks.”

Swallowing down your nerves, because of course, he’s right, you tilt your head to the side and will forth some sass.  “Y’just gonna keep talkin’ about them, or show me what you got?”

Baby blue eyes smolder with cocksure intention.  “What I’ve got, you can’t handle.  Why d’ya think Eddie’s the only one fucking you tonight?  My cock would have you crying, honey.  S’okay,” he coos, patting your cheek, “maybe we’ll work up to it someday.”

Your lips pop open in surprise, prompting Eddie to push the metaphorical envelope. “Or work up to both.”  

A thrill shivers up your spine at the thought of that, making your composure falter.  A subtle heat creeps into your neck, your cheeks – and though you try to hide it behind a facade of confidence, even you know that’s crumbling.  Fast.  

Eddie notices immediately.  “Oh, you like that, don’t you?  Fuck, that’s a nice thought, but for today, it’s all me.  I’m the one that’s gonna have you so fucked out you won’t be able to remember your name.”  Eddie’s curls brush lightly over your cheek as he dips low to whisper in your ear.  “Or his, for that matter.”

There’s a possessive edge to his tone, exhilarating to the point where that waning confidence surges.  Your expression changes, melts into a sanguine curve of kiss-bitten lips.  “We’ll see if you can even get me to say yours.”

Eddie’s incredulous huff swirls hot against your skin, prompting you to shiver when his lips make contact.  “That a challenge?”

Your nipples pucker as he runs a path of kisses along the slope of your neck.  “If you’re up for it.”

Gareth chuckles.  “Oh, we’re up for it, all right.”  Eddie straightens then, tipping a crooked smile at his friend’s innuendo as Gareth guides your hands to the elastic at his hips.  “You wanted to.  Take ‘em off, sweetheart.”  

Admittedly, it is a bit like unwrapping a present – unbridled excitement thrums through your veins and has your fingers trembling, making it a struggle to hook them under his band.  Gareth’s expression softens, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze while Eddie steps close enough to brush his thumb over your cheek.

“We can stop here,” Gareth offers sweetly, and part of you wouldn’t have believed he said it if you didn’t watch the words spill from his lips.  

Eddie echoes the sentiment as dark honey swirls in his doe eyes.  “Say the word if it’s too much, sweetheart.”

“It’s not too much,” you promise, projecting this truth into your gaze as it oscillates between the two men.  To prove your point, your now steady hand cups over Gareth’s impressive erection, swiping your thumb over a damp patch at his tip.  “I don’t want to stop.”

Your assurance satisfies them, allowing you to disrobe one, and then the other.  Your heart hammers in your chest at the sight of them, overwhelmed by how attractive they look under your lustful gaze.  You make no secret about studying them, and they make no effort to move. 

Eddie languidly strokes his cock in his broad hand, displaying his ample length from root to tip.   He’s definitely longer than average, certainly more than you’ve ever had — including the dildo you have stored away at home. Maybe as thick, too.  But it’s that curve – that gracious, veiny, upward curve that lists slightly to the left – you know that’s going to ruin you in the best way, much more than late nights with that silicon cock in your nightstand ever could.  

Gareth, unsurprisingly, is built just like his frame – ruddy and solid and a little bit formidable.  He’s nearly as long as Eddie, which is impressive in and of itself, but it’s his sheer girth that takes you aback.

And the way he handles it, smearing precum down the stocky length just does something to you.

Part of you is thrilled they’re as endowed as they are – that they physically can back up the filthy promises they’ve made tonight.  The other part is wondering what in the actual fuck you got yourself into.

A little too late, yeah.  

“Aw look,” Gareth coos before he flashes a toothy grin to the taller man, “already so cockdrunk just lookin’ at us.”

The taller man snatches his jeans from the floor, rummaging in the back pocket before pulling out a foil packet.  Long, lean lines of his body remind you of a cat as he slinks up the bed, his cock bobs heavily between his legs as he hovers above you.  “Just wait until I pound you into this mattress,” the condom wrapper wiggles where it’s mashed between his lips, “so ready to fuck you dumb.”  

You know it’s meant to be intense, said with the same sort of vigor as when he suggested it in the first place, but it’s not… not when he gives you an exaggerated waggle of his thick eyebrows. Rolling your mouth inward, you stifle a giggle, especially when he fails to tear it open with his teeth.  Heartstrings twang deep in your chest as you wonder if it wasn’t to dispel some tension you’re still carrying in your shoulders.  That Cheshire grin is back, bright and wide as he rolls the condom down his length and secures it at the base.  

Eddie winks as he watches you catch your breath.  “Y’ready, sweetheart?”

Your nods come swiftly as you trail off, “Please...”

Ducking his head, he murmurs into your ear soft enough for just the two of you.  “I’m gonna make you feel so, so good.  Want you to tell me exactly what you want.  Can you do that for me?”

Now your head bobs vigorously, just in case he can’t hear your wispy Yeah that you breathe to the ceiling.

“Don’t hold back, you understand?  And if it’s too much –”

“I’ll tell you.”

A hum of approval vibrates his chest.  “That’s my good fuckin’ girl.  Wrap those legs around me, baby.”

Cinching your ankles around the muscles of his low back, you adjust your hips, your inhale hitching as his cockhead splits your folds.  When he catches the tight rim of your entrance, you hold your breath, awaiting that first aching stretch of his thick head through your cunt.  Eddie shifts, guiding his cock at the base with his thumb, and just when you think he’s about to drive home in one swift thrust – he tosses a look to Gareth, who swiftly shoves a pillow under the plush of your ass.

“Oh!” you squeak at the unexpected move, words of thanks die on your tongue as Eddie sinks slowly in.  There’s no holding back your moans, not when it feels like he’s splitting you in half.  “Oh, my god – oh, my god ohmygod –”

“Christ,” Eddie grits, almost halfway sheathed, “fucking hell, sweetheart –”

Your walls protest the utter volume of Eddie’s cock, and you can admit as you whine and cry out in monosyllabic nonsense that he’s definitely bigger than your dildo at home.  It’s truly a piece of heaven and hell with how torturously deliberate he is, pushing in barely an inch before withdrawing to the level of his thick mushroom tip and back again.  Over, and over until your pussy finally stops clenching to accommodate his whole length.   

It’s then that you think he’ll truly begin, surely he’ll start making good on his word and fuck you senseless into this duvet – but he starts the process over, punctuating each deep thrust with a grind of his pelvis against yours.  

Granted, you’re a little grateful – he’s allowed you to recapture some air in your lungs, and that sting and burn initially brought about by his size has melted away.  It’s all molten pleasure, hot and slick and filthy and raw.

And now, you need more.

“Thought you,” you begin as the breath is punched out of your nose at the tail end of another roll of his narrow hips, “thought you said y’were gonna – mmmnnh – gonna –”

An egotistical snicker interrupts your babbling. “C’mon honey,” Gareth commands wryly, “use your words.”

You huff an airy laugh, wild eyes flashing at the devil of a man kneeling next to you on the bed.  “Fuck off…” your train of thought derails for a moment with the lazy flick and twist of Gareth’s wrist over his length.  Licking your lips, you pose your intended question to the man inside of you.  “I thought y’were gonna fuck me into the mattress.”

Eddie scoffs, a derisive and dangerous sound.  “I am – fuck, just gettin’ this pussy warmed up. Christ, you’re that greedy for this cock, huh?”  A fire ignites deep in those chocolate depths, and hauling himself up onto his knees, he drives his hips into yours, a cautious build of intensity and pace.  “This whatcha want?  Fucking – uhhyeah, this what you need?  Huh?”

“Yes,” you whimper, screwing your eyes shut against the liquified warmth that coils tight in your belly.  The fullness is exquisite, both satisfying and maximizing that carnal ache for every last inch of him. “Yes, yes –” you cry again, louder and pitchier than before, “fuck, Eddie –!”

The dam breaks; all control Eddie had evaporates with a sensual belt of his name.  “Oh fuck yeah, say my name.”  Your legs nearly lose their grip around his back with how fast and hard he ruts into you.  “Again,” Eddie rasps harshly, “say it.”

Your mind is an open pit of all things Eddie – how he sounds, how he feels, how he makes you feel with every snap of his hips, every drive of his cock into your sodden core.  He’s more than deserving of how you chant his name, a high and rough and repetitive bawl of your pleasure to fill his ears like lyrics to a new song.

“Ed,” the sound of Gareth’s husky ask has your eyes fluttering open, “how does she feel?”

“So fucking good,” the apex of every thrust is punctuated with a puff of air through Eddie’s nose, “so hot, so fuckin’ tight –”

His praise goes straight to your cunt.  Heat unlike anything you’ve ever felt creeps over your skin like it’s aflame.  Pleasure burns, churning and boiling your inside under the scorching gaze of these two gorgeous men.  It’s their attention and the constant pounding of Eddie’s cock against your deepest parts that has you racing towards completion.  Again.

This time though, you feel as if you can hold it off.  You tense and clench, worrying your teeth through your bottom lip so hard it blanches.  It almost works, too – the otherworldly sensations that lick at your insides plateau.

Until Gareth opens his stupidly sexy, lip-ringed mouth.

“She looks so pretty like this,” he murmurs to Eddie before zeroing in on how your breasts bounce with every hard slap of skin against skin.  Gareth grunts lowly, keeping the pace of his hand up and down his length.  “You do, you look so pretty taking Eddie’s fat cock.”  A sinful grin splits his face, makes that silver ring sparkle as you whine.  “He feel good?  He does, doesn’t he?  I know, I know…” he croons with a condescending sympathy that makes your walls flutter, “practically in your guts, pounding that pussy. Christ, listen to how fuckin’ wet you are –”

A wanton moan, high and feminine, is wrenched past your lips as your chin tips to the ceiling.  Any ounce of authority you thought you had over delaying your orgasm has been torched, turned to dust by the white-hot passion that spills from Gareth’s mouth.  Granted, they both have equal parts in elevating your pleasure, electrifying your senses – but the way they talk to you, Gareth in particular, is what’s ruined you the most.

“Oh, our little lady likes that, huh?  C’mon Ed, tell her how wet she is.”

“So fucking wet,” the liquid lust in Eddie’s tone has roughened his voice to a mere husk, “Jesus –”

“Pussy is just sucking you in.  Fuck, put her leg up so I can see.”  

An obedient arm hooks under your leg in a flash, driving that knee into your chest as Eddie relentlessly bullies your cunt.  The sight of your soaked outer lips gripping his girth makes Gareth swear under his breath, shuddering as his cock offers a substantial bead of precum.  It leaks over his angry tip, so red and swollen and neglected; if you were closer, you’d reach out with your tongue and taste it.  He’s quick to smear it down his shaft, fighting his own pleasure as he keeps up the erotic narrative.  

“So greedy, we shoulda known. Haven’t even come on his cock yet and he’s soaked.”  

“Goddamn right,” Eddie buries his face in your neck, sucking a mark behind your ear.  “Could fuck you all night if you let me.”

Whines and whimpers are almost continuous at this point, each draw of breath is a reedy, wordless keen or a garbled version of Eddie’s name.  It’s becoming harder and harder to hold off your release, especially as Gareth keeps spewing filth from those cherry-red lips.

“Y’ever been fucked like this, honey?” he asks, and on cue, Eddie slows down his frenetic pounding of your pussy to languid, easy strokes, palming the inside of your thighs to part them wide.  The sight drops Gareth’s jaw slack while Eddie’s stays clenched in concentration.  “Look at that, he’s gonna drag it out, go nice and slow.” Inked fingers clasp over Eddie’s hand with enviable tenderness, dragging his palm over your leg to press low on your belly.  Gareth holds it there, keeping you open with his other while his unattended cock juts into your side.  “Wring an orgasm out of her right now, aren’tcha Ed?  Go on, big boy,” he says lowly as he moves to hover over your exposed cunt, directing a string of saliva to land at Eddie’s thumb as he finds your clit, “make her come.”

You’re soundless in how you scream, your shallow, reactive respirations don’t allow for enough air to make a proper noise.  If it did?  You’d tell them just how fucking hot that was, how that slick pressure provided by your arousal and Gareth’s spit is exactly what you need.   

“The charade is up, we know we’ve won,” Eddie’s rhythm doesn’t falter as his thumb tightens its ministrations over your clit.  “Might as well let go.”  

“Get loud, honey,” Gareth echoes his friend’s sentiment, “we wanna hear you.”  Answering with a musical whimper, and then another, you set them free, spilling into the sex-drenched air around you. “That’s it, lemme hear you, lemme hear all those sounds you’ve got pent up.  C’mon, fucking give it to me, let go.”

“Ohhhyes – Eddie, that’s it — yes, I’m coming, I’m coming –”

The incessant writhing comes to an abrupt end as your muscles seize and pulse under the strength of your orgasm.  You feel like it caves inward, a black hole of pleasure before it explodes in a wild, electrified constellation of prickling heat and want.  Your pussy clamps around Eddie’s cock, coating that thin latex barrier in a fresh wave of your slick.  

It’s the first time Eddie loses his rhythm.  “Shit, fucking shit – she’s clenching so hard –”

You hear the delight in Gareth’s voice, his sandpaper rasp closer as he trails a blazing set of kisses over your temple.  “Oh yeah?  She get tight after she comes?”

“So fucking tight –” 

A sultry whisper dances at your ear.  “Good girl.”

You’re still drifting back to your body when Eddie drops your legs, using latent strength in those slender arms to flip you over onto your belly.  You land with a muted oomph, unable to even enjoy the feathersoft comfort of the bedding before he hauls you up on all fours.  Entering you swiftly this way sends him deeper, feeling full and spread as he regains his cadence.  He groans your name, and you answer with a pornographic moan of your own as he redoubles his efforts, grabbing at your waist to slam you back over the length of his cock.  

The new position is everything – never in your life have you ever been fucked so hard and needed more.  Eddie’s crazed as he works you over, the rocking of his entire body enough to shake the bed and knock the headboard into the wall in loud, repetitive bangs.

You’d be embarrassed if you could be anything but blissed-out, a complete slave to every last fiery burst of pleasure as that thick cockhead drills against your sweet spot.  It makes your head swim, how deeply you’ve fallen victim to his pleasure, and you drop to your forearms to try to regain your balance.

Almost immediately, you feel the heat of a hand at your bicep. “No, no – stay upright, honey.”  A gentle tug guides you back up on your hands. “Come on, you can do it.  Wanna see him fuck you stupid.”

Panting breaths escape in short bursts through your nose.  “Oh, I – hmm –”

“Feels so good, doesn’t it?  Tell me,” Gareth commands softly as you palm the headboard to keep steady, “tell me how good you feel.”

“S-so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back as Eddie fucks into you harder, “feels so good –”

Eddie huffs, one gravelly breath after another when he feels you start to push back on his cock with every thrust.  His fingers find purchase on the flesh of your hips, aiding in your rhythm before clapping your ass to his pelvis.  Then he changes pace, holding you here, pressing in with the most subtle roll and grind, hardly moving his cock an inch or two each way.  

“Pussy is so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.  Couldn’t be deeper if I tried.”

Gareth groans.  “Y’have no idea how good you look right now.  Being so good for us, so good for Eddie.”

“That’s right,” Eddie gruffs, “taking my cock like she was made for it.”  

In your lust-laden haze, you trail your eyes down Gareth’s frame as he lies on his side next to you.  Your free hand wanders over the sea of covers, reaching towards where his fingers stroke over his shaft in rhythmic pumps.  His cock is so close – you’re overcome with the need to help him, to give him something other than his hand to work with.  There’s been no indication he needs it, other than the obvious dynamic imbalance.  At least, that’s how you see it.  Eddie’s fingers, tongue and cock have been buried inside of you almost continuously for the last… however long it’s been.  In reality, all Gareth’s done is watch.

And look stupidly sexy as he fists his own dick.

Need rolls to a boil in your blood.  He clocks your movements and somehow, your intent; as he angles his hips away, a slow smile stretches over his lips while he watches yours twist into a pout.

“No baby,” he scolds, chuckling softly as you protest with a petulant whine.  “You just worry about you.  Let Eddie and I take care of you, okay?”

Your eyebrows pinch as you argue.  “But –”

“No,” he reiterates firmly.  Gareth’s smile widens, and planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he rolls to his back and situates himself almost completely under you.  “How ‘bout you put on a show for me, yeah?”

A strong forearm slithers across your chest, hauling you upright.  Plush lips press against the sensitive skin behind your ear.  “Y’wanna use that pretty mouth, baby?” Eddie asks as his hands roam over your front, cupping your breasts.  “I know how you can.  Why dontcha spit on his cock for him?”  

That affects Gareth in the best way, lips parting in a gritty grunt as his hips thrust a little harder into his hand.  “C’mon, sweetheart,” Eddie’s grip loosens over your collarbones to encourage you to lean forward, “give him more to work with.”

The man burns you with the fiery need in his stare, making you feel more sensual than you ever have.  Your confident stare never once leaves Gareth’s.  Allowing an ample amount of saliva to pool on your tongue, you hover over where his hand glides over his length.  Gareth’s chest expands, holding his breath as a long, slow dribble slips past your lips to land with accuracy over the flared tip of his cock.  The sound that is punched from his lungs could be called a whimper.  You file that away in the depths of your brain, intent on revisiting it again and again when nights get lonely in your bed at home. 

Eddie guides you against the hard sinew of his chest with ease. “Gonna make you come this way,” he promises as his cock bullies deeper in your core, “go on, play with your clit.  Give our boy a show.”

Your body jerks in time with every hard snap of Eddie’s hips, making your fingers fumble as they slide over the slick skin between your legs.  Circling above your hood, your touch is featherlight, jolting that crackling bundle of nerves awake.  Despite your intentional tenderness, you’re still so sensitive it’s like you’ve gone numb.  Not daring to increase the pressure just yet, you focus back on Gareth, nearly losing her mind at how downright sinful he looks stroking his cock to your every move.

Steel-gray eyes, long lashes, blazing stare – the heat is palpable, the tension so thick you could bite it.  You shimmy your knees apart, widening your stance so he can better see how Eddie’s cock is gripped and swallowed by your greedy hole.  The unfiltered lust smolders and builds intensity with every passing moment as heard in every breathy groan and desperate whine. 

Soon, you progress to more direct swipes over your swollen clit, sucking that bottom lip between your teeth when oversensitivity threatens to spark pain instead of pleasure.  The scale tips, a strong favoring of the latter, and that familiar band starts to wind and tighten in your belly with such force that your legs begin to shake.  

Gareth takes notice, the effort to keep the cadence of his fist slow and measured is an obvious strain.  “Almost there?”

“Mmmh – ye-yeah, yeah – so close, so close –”

“Hmmfuck,” he pants as his hand twists over the crown so angry it blooms a desperate shade of violet.  “That’s it, honey.  C’mon, keep workin’ your clit for us.”

Teetering on the edge, your release builds to its breaking point with edges so hot and sharp it almost hurts.  “I – ohhgod, I –”

Your legs quake as your body gives way, orgasm ripping through you like you’ve been struck by lightning.  It’s quick, an explosion of light behind lids slammed shut, flooding your system in molten, electric currents that have you curling in on yourself despite Eddie’s hold around your chest.

The shockwaves haven’t even begun to subside before you’re upended, flat on your back next to Gareth as your knees are shoved into your chest.  Draping himself over the backs of your legs, Eddie practically folds you in half as he sheaths his cock to the hilt in one stroke.   

That beautiful, brown-eyed man is everywhere – the fulness maximized in this new position as you belting a sweet cry.  “Oh, fuck – Eddie!  Eddie, yes – yes –!”

“God damn, Ed – that’s it, give it to her,” Gareth husks as his fists tightens over his cock, “come on, get loud for him.  Louder, honey, louder.  Want this whole fuckin’ city to know who fucks you so good.”

Though Eddie’s weight presses you into the mattress, Gareth’s gritty permission splits you wide open.  Never in your life have you ever been this loud, this responsive; clawing at anything within your grasp.  The lewd, wet sounds of skin slapping so loud, echoing off the high ceilings with every pitchy, open-mouthed scream you’re sure to have a noise complaint from four floors down. 

Eddie pistons his hips, using the recoil on the bed to drive inside you hard and fast.  Spewing forth a litany of praise and filth, your vision whites out as he chases his release.  A tuck of his chin against his chest is his tell, and he announces his orgasm with a low, throaty groan.  The pace of his hips never once lets up, even as his cock empties rope after rope of his spend into the condom. 

You feel every twitch, every jolt of his length as it pulses inside you.  Your name has never sounded better as it rolls from his parted lips, like a song full of wonder and awe and yet still drenched in the grit of need and sex.  Eddie finally stills, losing the last of the air in his lungs as his body melts into yours.  

A hitching sigh, and then a rasp of your name through gritted teeth comes synonymous with a dip in the bed. “Ed – m-move, man –”  Gareth’s fist flies over his cock, fast and dirty as he nestles his knees next to your torso.  “F-fuck, gonna – honey, open your mouth – yeah, that’s it –”

Eddie’s shaky as he rises to his knees, leaving Gareth enough room as he jerks himself to completion, painting your chest in thick, white ribbons of his cum.  Eddie grunts his approval, soft and low and still seated inside your pussy, watching as you do as his drummer wrings every last drop of his spend on your tits.

Gareth’s chest is heaving, body shuddering with the final waves of his climax.  His lips are parted in bliss, unable just like you to form proper words at the moment.

“Oh my fucking –” Eddie can’t even finish his thought before he’s smothering every available inch of your neck and cheeks in affection.  His kisses are more like an open-mouthed drag of sticky, wet lips against sticky, wet skin. “Sweetheart, you did so good.”

Gareth hums in agreement, his knees give a telling wobble and he has to palm the abused headboard to keep from toppling over.  Hesitant to slip out of you, Eddie stays buried while you all catch your breath, the return to your body aided by how Gareth’s fingers have found their way back to your hair, weaving in and out of your sweaty strands.  You lie like this for some time, immersed in the heaviness of post-orgasmic bliss, hardly noticing when Eddie finally withdraws himself from your cunt.  The sting of sensitive skin against the tacky rubber of the condom makes you hiss, and Eddie presses another sweet kiss to your mouth, whispering assurances how he’ll be right back to take care of you.

The bed shakes with Eddie’s departure, and immediately Gareth swoops in to hold you close, murmuring in your ear how good you were, how fucking amazing you are – over and over like a song he’s sang for years.  He honors you more with the hard press of his lips against yours, all the while spouting praise you didn’t even know you longed to hear.

“I’ve got you, honey, I’ve got you – Christ, you’re something, you know that?  So fuckin’ lucky to be holding you, so fuckin’ lucky you let us do this.”  

Gareth is swift to press your body to his, you barely have time to react.  “Hey, no wait – I’m all –”

“Dirty?”  Those blue eyes flash, hot and aware.  “Yeah, you are.  That’s my cum, honey.” Chuckling devilishly, he pulls you closer to prove his point.  “Would rather hold you than worry about a little bit of –”

“It’s not just a little bit,” you snort softly, reveling in the heat that radiates from the smooth planes of his chest.  

He barks a laugh, the melody echoes in your bones and you think, maybe, that’s where it’ll stay.  “No, it’s not.”  He makes no effort to move.  The smile lines around his eyes relax as he regards you with intention. “Are you okay?”

The short answer is yes, maybe even hell yes because you are… with one needling exception.  “I didn’t even touch you,” you admit to his collarbones, your gaze pulled away from baby blue to trace the patterns of the vines that adorn the delicate skin there.

“You didn’t have to,” he’s quick to assure, “fuckin’ looked so good, I came just watching you.”

It’s something, but it’s not enough.  You entered new territory tonight in a variety of ways – what novice understanding you have of threesomes is that all parties are involved.  Logical to believe there are variations, but tonight’s just not the way you thought it would go.

Plainly stated, you really thought he’d fuck you, too.  

“Oh,” you breathe, your heart leaps into your throat at how disappointed you sound.  Clearing your throat, you try to hide it by turning it back on him.  “You’re not… um, not mad you didn’t get a – a turn?”  

Your lips purse in a grimace with how you just worded it, but Gareth seems to find it endearing.  “No.”  He genuinely sounds like he isn’t.  “Couldn’t ever be mad at you.”

His sincerity makes your stomach swoop.  “I just feel bad.”

Regarding you through narrow slips of baby blue, you see it as it clicks.  “Ohh,” that maddening smirk is back, “are you saying you wanted to touch me?”  Gareth play-gasps, the ink on his right hand ripples as he splays it theatrically over his heart.  “Are you saying you want me to touch you?”

Yes.  That’s exactly what you’re saying, but the way he’s grinning has you playing into it, and retorting with an unconvincing, “No.”

Pools of seaglass sparkle with mirth.  “You definitely are.”

Your defiance is weakened with the grin that splits your features, but you try for it to keep up the charade.  “No, I am not –”

“You are,” sandy-blonde curls fly in chaotic disarray as he smothers your lips in kisses, making you squeal. “You are –”

“Sorry to interrupt this nauseating little moment,” Eddie smirks, “but I come bearing gifts for our girl, here.”

Even as Eddie attends to you with gentle swipes of that warm cloth, Gareth’s affections aren’t deterred.  He mouths along your jaw, nipping at the lobe of your ear.  “Just admit it, honey…”

You squirm in his hold, though there’s no real effort to get yourself away.  Eddie climbs up the bed, stretching his frame alongside you to wipe the mess from your chest.  “Admit what?” he asks, dragging the cloth beneath your chin to direct your stare to him.

Gareth grins into the sultry skin of your neck.  “She wants me so badly.”

Rolling your eyes, you ask Eddie, “Is he always this insufferable?”

“Always, sweetheart.”  Eddie tosses the rag away and sighs, pinning you in place with an ardent dark chocolate stare.  “How are you doing?”

“Fucking excellent,” you reply truthfully.  You allow yourself to bask in the heat of their presence, to feel the comfort in skin on skin contact before confessing meekly, “I guess I better get going.  I, uh… lost our bet.  Badly.”

Eddie snorts, chasing away the tightness in your smile.  “Oh, you’re not going anywhere.  Stay in bed, princess.”  Kiss-bitten lips twist in a wry grin.  “Wasn’t ever gonna make you leave, anyway.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”  Gareth nuzzles at the back of your neck.  “We’re not complete assholes.”

“You kinda are,” you scoff a half-laugh.  

He draws you closer to his chest with a tug of his arm still loped around your middle.  “Think you like it, though.”

Tired banter bubbles over three sets of lips, slowly fading as the night grows older.  You vaguely make out offers for Eddie to turn on the shower for you, or even to draw you a bath.  Gareth, not to be outdone, tells you he’d brush your teeth before they go if you asked, which has you snickering into your pillow… until your brain catches up with what he’s just said.

“You’re gonna go?” you ask, suddenly wide awake when you notice they’re clothed and you’re very much still… not.  “Where?”

“My room,” Gareth answers, “just down the hall.”  

“We can leave you in peace, princess,” Eddie sweeps his slender arms grandly about his space.  “A room fit for one, yeah?”

You shrug away your disappointment, snuggling further under the duvet, trying to hide the fact you know your face fell as soon as they announced they’d let you be.  Schooling your expression neutral, you give them a convincing nod.

Not convincing enough.  Gareth cocks his head to the side as he regards you carefully.  “Unless…”

Eddie mercifully fills in the blanks.  “You don’t want us to go?” 

“Yeah, honey?”  His bandmate takes a cautious step forward, but you can hear the hope sear through his tone.  “You want us to stay?” But still, your eyebrows tent uncertainly over your nose.  “If that’s okay –”

“Fuck yeah it’s okay,” Eddie launches himself back in the bed, jostling you roughly as he lands at your side.  “We’ll gladly stay.”  A groan full of fatigue rumbles up through his throat as soon as his head hits the pillow.  “So fuckin’ tired –”

Gareth’s already rid himself of his shirt, diving beneath the covers to wrap your naked frame to his.  “He snores,” he whispers in your ear, making you giggle.  “Better stay close to me.”

“I heard that,” Eddie grumbles, turning and throwing a heavy arm around your waist.

A gravelly, “I meant you to, big boy,” is the last thing you hear before your eyes slip closed and you succumb to the warmth of their bodies and the pull of sleep.

*

The next morning arrives swiftly, beginning with smooth assurances and gentle kisses as you still lie tucked in bed.  Satiety hasn’t seeped from your chest, not by a long shot; and the way the two men made sure you felt that way prior to their near-silent departure from the suite.  

Soon, early morning views of crystalline blue waves from Lake Michigan are replaced with spacious, turquoise planes of the Atlantic.  You arrive in Hilton Head at sunset, smiling to yourself as a luxury SUV replaces your complimentary hotel shuttle from the airport.  You feel invigorated, pampered almost as you’re helped in the back by the valet, a lively young woman with a stylish shag and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her dainty nose.  She puts you right at ease, inviting you to imbibe in the iced-down bottle of Rose as she brings the stereo to a comfortable listening level.

“I was informed you liked Tool,” she chirps, blue-green eyes sparkling at your blush via the rearview mirror.

Maybe it’s no surprise, but you’ll swear to your grave it is – the kind attendant at the front desk informs you of an upgrade to an oceanview suite, complete with an envelope addressed to you in a tidy, unfamiliar scrawl.

You can hardly contain your excitement as you ride the elevator to your room for the next week, but it nearly bursts from your chest as you examine the contents of the envelope.

Enclosed are tickets to an upcoming Corroded Coffin show, ensuring an experience fit for the princess you are.  Your core clenches in anticipation, despite the sweet soreness that still lingers from the night before.

Especially as you turn your ticket over and read:

It’s my turn.  See you soon, honey.

a/n: thank you for reading! smash that reblog key or leave me a comment m, if you’re so inclined. i swear every time it makes my heart go vrrrrrrrr

[motherfckerrr]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[motherfckerrr]

[motherfckerrr]

ooo what abt gojo and reader are at some formal event and reader has a toy plugged inside her and gojo just turns it on at the most randomest times

POKER FACE !

ෆ sypnosis. you accompany satoru to a formal event, which you instantly regret the moment he starts controlling the toy he plugged inside of you beforehand.

ෆ note. literally drooled at this when it popped up in my inbox :3 thank u 4 this & hope you enjoy — this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. public, dirty talk, use of adult toy (vibrator), edging, implied cunnilingus & blow job, uhh u suck on his finger, size difference, satoru’s a big tease.

your fingers were tightly curled around your wine glass to the point that it threatened to shatter, your gaze flickered all around the hall and your body was trying its best not to show the pleasure its receiving in secrecy.

it’s all because of your lover; gojo satoru. the man introduced a new idea to you before you attended the formal event. he said that ‘it’d be fun’ and then ordered you to plug a small vibrator inside of you—one he recently bought just for the sake of using it on your body.

you really should’ve known that satoru was going to tease you to death before you agreed to his proposal. the moment you stepped foot into the main hall was also the same moment the ‘fun’ started.

satoru walked ahead with confidence, flashing that charming smile of his to the waitress who offered you your wine glasses. his right hand held onto his drink whilst his left hand was buried deep in his front pocket. to many, that may seem like a casual gesture, but to satoru and you it was more than what it seemed.

the item hidden in that covered area was a small remote which controlled the vibrator you had put in your pussy. the vibrator was designed to give both internal and external stimulation—the external part was pressed against your clit and continuously made you shiver from pleasure.

“my baby’s looking so pretty.” satoru hums, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head like he wasn’t sexually tormenting you in the midst of a crowded place. he put his glass down on a nearby counter so he could wrap an arm around your waist.

“you doing okay?” he adds once he gets the gist of your subtle struggles. you were holding yourself pretty well according to satoru, thus he decides that you could probably take more.

the fingers in his pocket press twice onto the small ‘up’ button, increasing the frequency of the vibrations. you tense up almost immediately, one hand clamping around your glass while the other gripped onto satoru’s hand on your side.

“s-satoru, stop it—“ you whisper under your breath while trying your best to smile to any other guests who greeted you two. the escalating and pleasurable sensations made your legs start to shake. it was just a matter of time before you begin to make noise.

“don’t worry, sweets. i got you.” satoru chuckles and shakes his head, decreasing the regularity of the vibrations for a split second, “hmm.. or do i?”

there he goes again; playing with your emotions. just when you thought he decided to have mercy on you, he did the exact opposite and turned the vibrator up to its maximum setting. you bit your lower lip so hard that it begun to sting, “p-please, can’t no more, ‘toru.”

satoru nuzzles his face onto the top of your head, his nostrils filled with the recognisable scent of your shampoo. you could’ve sworn that you felt him smiling against your scalp after he left a kiss on it;

“shh, shh, t’s okay.” your lover purrs, feeling your body convulsing every now and then due to the intensity of the plugged in toy. he enjoys seeing you struggle to keep your composure in public, especially in risky situations like these. if anyone knew what was happening underneath those layers of clothes you had on, your reputation would plummet. satoru’s as well.

in an attempt to hide your erratic breathing and flustered demeanour, you pull satoru in a hug, face buried in his chest while both your hands were now clutching onto his suit jacket. hugging wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for couples, so that’s the least you could do to cover up your pleasure filled expression.

“aww, is my baby not feeling well?” satoru muses, but still tightens his grip on your waist, pressing your body against him and turning you sideways so that most attendees would only be able to see his backside, not you. at least he decided to spare you by hiding you in his embrace the best he could.

though, that didn’t mean he’d spare you from his antics just yet. the vibrator was still at its max setting after all.

the faint buzzing noise sounded ten times louder in your ears since that was all you could focus on. your clit was being overstimulated to the point that you just couldn’t hold back a couple desperate whines—the noises muffled by satoru’s dress shirt.

“hnnn— ‘toru, c-can’t, ‘m gonna..” you bit onto the fabric of his clothes as you subconsciously move your hips forward, grinding against satoru’s crotch. the pressure earns a quick hiss from your lover;

“don’t think so, pretty.” he sighs softly and his fingers move to hold in the ‘off’ button on the remote control. the toy immediately stops and you breathe out shakily— you lift your head upwards to meet satoru’s gaze. your lips were forming a small pout as if you were upset by his actions.

“what’s wrong?” satoru coos, knowing damn well that you were close to your climax, which he ruined by just one click of a button, “you couldn’t take it anymore, right?”

two of his long fingers sneaked across your waist and onto your jawline, fingertips stopping under your chin to let his thumb rub across your bottom lip, “i just did you wanted, baby.”

his voice was low and sultry, almost unable to be heard above all to the music and chatter. his index and middle finger gently tugged your chin downwards to open your mouth. his thumb smoothly slid between your lips and instantly pressed down onto the surface of your tongue—wordlessly encouraging you to suck on it.

your lips closed around his thumb without an ounce of hesitation. you were lucky that satoru was tall enough to hide you behind his figure. your vision was being blocked by his broad shoulders and it was like the entire hall disappeared from your point of view.

“mhh, such a warm mouth.” satoru murmurs as his thumb moved around, grazing against your gums while you continued to suck on his finger, “can’t wait to have my dick in here and have you choke on it.”

you are sure that if satoru continues to talk dirty like that in your ear, you’d be able to cum untouched without even the slightest help from the vibrator. the best thing about satoru’s dirty talk is that he actually means what he says and will make those words a reality one way or another.

“or i’ll just go ahead and instantly put my cock in your tight pussy once i get us outta here, yeah? i bet i’ll be able to slide right in, considering you’re probably fuckin’ dripping right now.” a shiver of excitement runs down your spine, plugged hole clenching onto the vibrator, which you wished was his cock stretching you out.

satoru smirks before gliding his thumb out of your mouth. he couldn’t wait to pull you into a private room and eat you out, tasting you on his tongue before fucking you so good you’ll forget all about his unbearable teasing.

it’s then that his senses pick up on a sorcerer who was starting to walk towards the two of you, probably to greet him. satoru bends his head down to whisper in your ear, “but before that, i’ll need to prep you more thoroughly. hang in there f’me, pretty.”

with one last peck to your forehead, satoru turns around and easily spots the guest walking towards him in the far distance. while your lover awaits them to arrive, the hand in his pocket moves and turns the toy on again. it was still set to its maximum and you needed to clamp a hand over your mouth to prevent from letting out a squeal of surprise.

satoru grinned as he spotted that reaction from out of his peripheral vision.

having this much control over you was fun, but seeing you slowly fall apart due to him and no one else was more enjoyable.

[motherfckerrr]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry hūmping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx

“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.

your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.

“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.

satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .

“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.

he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.

satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.

“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.

you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.

his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.

satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.

“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.

satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.

satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.

he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.

satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.

your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”

your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.

you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.

the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;

“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.

you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.

satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”

you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.

sweat trickles down your forehead.

“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.

satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.

you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.

the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.

you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.

as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.

“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”

[motherfckerrr]

shirts that go hard: rock n' roll edition

[motherfckerrr]

[motherfckerrr]

what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

[motherfckerrr]

idk what is going on

[motherfckerrr]

bro literally how

David Bowie and Bono in 2002 pics by Kevin Mazur

[motherfckerrr]

[motherfckerrr]

THIS GUY MET EVERYONE

Phil Lynott, Adam Clayton & Bono - Ireland 1983

" Phil wouldn’t want us to copy him. We’ve never tried to copy anybody. We actually did and failed originally. It’s very important that a band develops its own character, it’s what U2 is about. I hope we’ll still be here in 15 years’ time. " - Bono on comparisons between U2 and Thin Lizzy

[motherfckerrr]

FREDDIE MERCURY performing Do They Know It’s Christmas?

Live Aid concert at Wembley Stadium, 13th July 1985

[motherfckerrr]

i don't know who needs to hear this but nobody has this range

[motherfckerrr]

i never stopped liking imagine dragons. i never understood the ajr hate. i unironically enjoyed that u2 album that mysteriously appeared on my phone. and i honestly think nickelback is a pretty solid band.

[motherfckerrr]

through the storm we reach the shore.