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#'this is the final round. LET'S BEGIN!'
itsaseamonster · 8 months
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My Tav: *barges through the gate to Baldur's gate for the first time since the Nautiloid* whERE IS CAZADOR SZARR'S PLACE?
4 hours later, my Tav: *closes the gate to Baldur's gate* I should not have gone to Cazador Szarr's place yet!
The Gazette headline: Local bard bites the dust! What the fuck did they even think?
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I wish twdg explored more on how though human beings can become closer through awful times…..sometimes that’s not always the case
#I mean I know they technically do that in the games but it feels half-ssed#I feel like they could’ve made that comparison with comparing clementines new group in season 2 to her old one#and have internal turmoil over why her first group couldn’t get along like these guys#why they couldn’t stop arguing for two seconds why they wanted each other dead most of the time#why they coudnt stand being in the same presence of each other and wishing they could just leave without the threat of death#and also make a comparison on how much worse it could’ve gotten with season 3#show a group or town that is worse then both her groups#to really drive in the complication of something like this#and then with season 4 bring in a group that’s smart but naive maybe inexperienced#that way you can have all different types of groups to really round out humanity and how different people react in situations like this#and heck for the extras bring in more group dynamics that range from toxic to somewhat manageable#cause in the end twdg is about humans and humanity and how terrible it can really get BECAUSE of them#so why not drive that home fully#just a thought#my stuffy stuff#twdg#ideas#opinions#text#to add depth have that group not be as perfect as they seem let them have flaws that are and aren’t glaringly obvious to the character#have a character finally show their true colors and decide if it’s worth it or not(kinda like lily but less stupid)#idk I feel like it could’ve been cool#probably wouldn’t work as a long game though(then again the actual games aren’t that long to begin with)
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knighteclipsed · 1 year
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the bosses got dynamax’d || (team 5 gold round)
The grip on his axe remains tight even as he blinks into darkness and then again into light. The spider’s den from before is lost now, the scenery reviving the coliseum battlefield from the beginning of the dream. Had Valter any less sense, he’d imagine they’d be forced to loop the dream until they woke exhausted, but the familiar landscape is not accompanied by the Thunder Beast from before.
Chase Roll: 34
(Divine Speed does not activate!)
Not that it mattered. A chase is a chase, and Valter felt more prepared this time — and certainly more alive. What had been a proper inconvenience before turns into mere child’s play, a game of cat and mouse pushed forth by the sheer amount of adrenaline in his veins.
By the force of presence alone, wounds meld shut, pulling the general away from death and into a state where he can afford to relax. Now, where he is closer to perfect health than imminent death, his mind calms, focused.
Valter recovers from Amaterasu (Dimitri)!
Valter recovers from Bond (Laslow)!
Valter HP: 5.5/10
Alongside that focus comes the keen understanding that he could hold back if he liked. While he was never truly in danger (save for the one occasion that had him slain), here, he could play it safe. Here, he could survive off of cowardly hesitance and uncertain plays.
He decides not to. Not only is that the coward’s way of fighting, but if his guess was correct, — if this was to be the end of the dream, — he would savor its finale, and bleed this bird dry.
Let the hunt begin.
Valter attacks Twin Soul (Ultra Sun) with Hauteclere!
[d20 Roll]: 19 + 4 = 23. Crit!
Twin Soul HP: 43/50
Hauteclere. He’d had no experience with the axe in the waking world, but weapons that feasted off of one’s death weren’t new. Vengeance, the lance, the Devil Axe from rounds prior — and of course, 4 years ago (real years, that is). Valter had a fondness for them, inhuman things that hungered like any other animal. He could see his reflection in the shine of their blades and acknowledge that he saw himself more often there than in an actual mirror.
The axe glints in the dim light, light dancing at the edge like it would the point of a cursed lance. When it slashes through his prey, the gash is far from minute.
He grits his teeth, even as the flaming feathers graze him. He’d suffered worse burns in this dream already, he’ll survive the fluttering of wings.
Flaming Feathers activates!
Valter HP: 4.5/10
Like a cornered animal, it lashes out, albeit without the practiced lethality of its hunter.
Twin Soul (Ultra Sun) counters with Sharp Beak!
[d20 Roll]: 10. Hit!
Valter HP: 2.5/10
Valter is inflicted with -2 DEF for one round!
Or perhaps he had spoken too soon.
It’s not an impressive strike by any means, and had this been a normal creature, its beak would’ve collided with Valter’s shield and that would’ve been the end of it. Instead, the animal seems to ignore it altogether, instead breaking through the armor and aiming for the heart.
It doesn’t succeed, but it tries again.
Twin Soul (Ultra Sun) makes a follow-up attack!
[d20 Roll]: 11. Hit!
Valter HP: 0.5/10
Valter is inflicted with -4 DEF for one round!
Each bite feels draining, like it’s leaving him exposed — for what reason, he can’t imagine. The strikes were getting no more powerful, but he wasn’t fool enough to think that was it.
It’s a cornered beast — it’ll try any tactic it can manage.
A dominant hand grips the handle of Hauteclere, determination evident in the force of the hold. The axe hums now, and in exchange for the death that had been paid forward, it seems that it is now offering the Moonstone life.
Galeforce activates!
Valter recovers from Amaterasu (Dimitri)!
Valter recovers from Bond (Laslow)!
Valter recovers from Hauteclere!
Valter HP: 10/10
It’s his inverse and opposite, and it’s so startlingly foreign that, even with energy renewed, he has to stop and calculate his next move. Valter was aware of his skill, but strikes that powerful don’t come every swing. There was strategy to be had here, just as there was a strategy to uncover.
@dyshonor @blaydiud @laslow or @litaum
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lxvvie · 23 days
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley (Part 2):
Having a giggle/chuckle fest almost every time you are intimate. It first happened at the beginning of your relationship when you would giggle every time you two kissed. It opened the floodgates, had let that nervous energy out, and Simon was right there chuckling with you. ("Heh—aw, fuck me.")
Swearing up and down that you're gonna fuck each other's brains out but as soon as you hit the bed, you and Simon are out like a light. The last time this happened, he was supposed to go down on you, but the next thing you know, you woke up to him fast asleep with his head on your stomach.
Kissing the bridge of his crooked nose and Simon turning into putty every time. Hell, kissing any and every dent, bruise, and scar, and making your man melt.
A nice round of horizontal tango turning into a cuddle session after you comforted Simon through a charley horse. Poor baby.
Initially making the telly watch you two make sex but turns out whatever you're watching was pretty decent after all so you guys are back to watching the telly again.
Getting hot and heavy one time but you were so intrigued with the mole you discovered on Simon's inner thigh that you spent the next half-hour or so trying to find other moles on his body.
Telling Simon that you "always wanted to do this" and when you get him hot, bothered, and hard, it turns out what you always wanted to do was measure him. His disappointment was immeasurable... even if he was interested to know the number.
Twinning in some way, shape, or fashion whenever you're out together.
Talking mad shit about his snoring but let him tell it, he doesn't say shit when you take up about 80% of the bed, covers, and sleep under him.
Speaking of talking shit, having disagreements like every couple does and when you go to bed, you're angrily cuddling each other. And yes, Simon still wants your kisses in the morning, even if you two are still mad at each other. Simon doesn't give a shit, you're still gonna love on him, dammit. And him on you.
Being mad with Simon when he arrived too late to get the creepy crawler that was harassing you. Harassing you by doing what it does best: be a creepy crawler. Simon tells you you'll have to conquer your fear one day. You tell him to conquer the couch tonight lmao.
Agreeing to disagree about the superior ice cream flavor in the house. It's too bad there's not any of his favorite ice cream in the freezer. There's some of yours, though. Why? You didn't get any because it was so superior that you wouldn't "dare sully it with your hands". Cue the judgemental stare and him eating YOUR ice cream afterward. Rude.
Scaring the ever-living shit out of Simon on the rare occasions he gets to sleep in. He woke up to you sitting up in bed with his mask and paint on. Oh, and he calls bullshit. He did not nearly fall out the bed. Nor did he jump. Okay, Simon.
Chilling and drinking with Simon. Finding out he gets hot and sweaty pretty easily and off comes his clothes. Waking up hungover the next morning and you're the big spoon to a naked and equally hungover Simon. Choosing to do fuck all but sleep it off that day.
Playfully calling or referring to him as the Missus, especially in front of your co-workers. When they finally meet Simon and ask him who he is, he replies in pure deadpan Ghost fashion: "The Missus".
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lovelyghst · 16 days
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ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3
he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.
“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”
you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.
how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.
you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.
but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.
“yeah, baby, whatever you say…
…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”
and that shut you up quick.
he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.
“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”
butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?
“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.
“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”
and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.
“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”
…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:
“please..?”
you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.
“just give me ten minutes, doll.”
and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.
truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.
he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.
he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.
it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.
you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.
you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.
“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”
shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.
“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”
he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.
“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”
“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:
“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”
you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.
you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”
he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.
“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”
and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”
“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”
he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.
if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.
“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”
you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.
“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”
he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.
he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.
"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.
he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.
he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"
you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.
the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.
endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.
he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.
"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.
you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."
he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.
“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"
you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.
you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.
you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.
“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”
“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.
your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”
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shellxrls · 5 months
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mdni | 18+ content cw: explicit smut, grinding over the clothes
modern!snow who - much to your liking - seems to have an affinity for grey sweatpants. you can't help but ogle, watching his length swing around loosely underneath the fabric as he walks around shirtless in the mornings. his tip occasionally catching the fabric and his morning hard-on making itself very evident.
he eventually catches you watching, your eyes trained on the non-discreet bulge - when your supposed to be watching a movie - while you're nestled in his chest.
he chuckles, shifting so that he can guide your gaze up to him, and tells you without too many words, he knows.
you flush, cheeks heating up in embarrassment at getting caught out at such a shameless action.
recognising your mortification, he pats his thigh gently, placing a grounding hand against your waist for you to move onto his lap.
"knew you would like these sweatpants," he grins against your heated face, nibbling on your earlobe as you begin to grind on the thin fabric, his own arousal now very obviously at full attention.
you whimper against his neck, fulfilled with the friction of having him so carnally, humping him like a bitch in heat.
he reciprocates harshly, bucking his own hips straight into your hole, his dick banging against you and the phantom feeling of him actually entering you sending you into a clouded frenzy.
"mhm that's it baby let it out," he coos when he feels you finally contract above him, soaking through your panties and leaving a damp spot against his sweatpants, the material now dark grey & stained with your arousal.
"i should wear these 'round you more often, huh?" he jokes, a teasing lilt in his voice as you once again go shy at his taunts.
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Fellow dommes, I would like to share a new thing I recently discovered that I think you should try out. We all know how nice the possessiveness of saying "you're mine" to your sub can be. Making them say "I'm yours", or cooing/growling "you're mine" into their ear while they're so deep into subspace all they can do is smile and moan. I've even seen a post making the rounds of growling "I'm yours" into your subs ears as you use them mercilessly. Remind them that only they get receive this treatment.
I see these acts of consensual possession and raise you the notion of ordering your sub to say "you're mine" to you as you make them cum. Holding their eye contact right before you push them over the edge and growl "what am I, kitten? Say it. Say I'm yours."
"You're mine?" they'll of course be initially confused, but press the idea, and as you do, push them over the edge.
"Again."
"You're mine" This time a little more confidence behind the statement.
"That's right... Again."
"You're mine" Finally getting the idea, and realizing it feels amazing.
"Again!"
"You're mine... you're mine... you're mine..."
By this point you can just watch and enjoy as they begin to chant it with the biggest smile on their face, all while orgasming in a way that they haven't before. A different kind of intensity. Continue to make them cum as they passively repeat "you're mine" over and over and over, letting the pleasure and chanting hypnotize them into a state of pure bliss. I promise you, it will give you a form of confidence in your domming entirely separate from claiming them and it feels utterly intoxicating 💕
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mysicklove · 6 months
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summary: Sukuna might not be the best older brother, but at least Yuuji doesnt seem to mind.
wc: 1.6k
a/n: wrote this instead of kinktober. oopsies. i was feeling soft, ok? leave me alone.
big brother au masterlist
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Two little fists bang at the door and you find yourself awoken from your sleep. In your half-sleep state, you manage to hear the desperate rattling of a door, and you furrow your eyebrows. Then, a sniffle, and a broken sob. “Brotherrrrr!”
“No Yuuji!” Sukunas voice echoes in your shared room, and at this, you seem to jump awake. Sukuna, turns his stare from the door back to you, and his lips curl upward. “You awake? C’mon lets go for round two. Been waiting hours.”
You pull yourself up, ignoring the suggestive kisses that your lover places down your neck. Another cry is let out from behind the door, and more pounding. “I-I'll be a good boy! Please, please, please Kuna!”
Sukuna growls into your neck, pulling away and yelling back a, “Yuuji, I told you it's adult time. Go watch your cartoons before you piss me off!”
A whined, “Noooooooo!” Is let out, and Yuuji by now must be sobbing, clawing at the door like some sort of puppy.
You turn to Sukuna, and his cocky smile returns, leaning forward to press more kisses along your cheek. You pull away, a scowl on your face, and he groans knowing what's to come. “Aw cmon, don't be mad. You promised me we would go again. ‘ts not my fault the brat is a clinger, Uraume is supposed to be watching him.”
You pull the sheets away from your body and Sukuna makes a noise of complaint. “Hand me your shirt,” You demand, pulling on your underwear as quickly as possible. He rolls his eyes at your tone, but pulls the cloth over his head and throws it to you. You are quick to put it on, satisfied when it comes just above your knees. 
Then you pad over to the door, while Sukuna sighs, and pinches his brows. He isn't getting lucky for nights to come, you've already decided.
When you open it, you find Sukunas four year old brother standing with his bunny stuffed animal, and tears streaming down his face. When he finally processes that its you, he immediately drops the bunny, and stumbles over to you as quickly as he can, the cries coming louder. His arms shoot up and he is warbling a, “Up! Up!”
You are quick to abide by his request, picking him up and pressing the boys body to yours, and shushing him when he sobs into your neck. Your hands run through the near identical pink hair, and you mumble out a, “I know, I know. Sukuna is so mean. Its okay. Shhhh, don't cry.”
The boy fails to listen, and you don't blame him. He must have been really hurt by his brother blatantly ignoring him. You glare at your lover as you make your way back toward the bed. He holds his hands up sheepishly, and you roll your eyes. You crawl back into bed, resting your back on the headboard, while the four year old straddles your lap, crying into Sukunas shirt.
“You coddle him too much,” The pink haired man complains, glancing at his brother who was staining his shirt.
You scoff at him, continuing to run your fingers through the boys hair as he finally begins to calm down from his wish being granted. “So you were going to let him just cry out there?”
“It's what our parents did to me, and I turned out just fine.” You bite back a frown, but place a comforting hand on his own. His eyes flicker to you, and he nods, not saying anything. You are glad their parents are gone, and he is too. Although being left to raise his brother was more tedious than he thought, to Sukuna at least.
The last of Yuuji's tears fall, and you wipe them away with a small smile. The boy leans into your hand, loving every second of physical touch. He always seemed to want to be touching one of the two of you, whether it by means of having you carry him, or him very tentatively asking his brother to hold his hand. In those moments, Yuujis smile seems to be the brightest. 
The puffy eyed kid turns to Sukuna, while continously holding onto your arm so that you don't stop your petting. “Brother is so mean!” Yuuji complains in a high voice, but he doesnt sound upset, only mimicking what you told him earlier. In fact, a smile was already beginning to creep on the boys face, already forgetting about the situation. 
A playful finger jabs into the boys chest, and the boy squeals with delight. “Wouldn't be mean if you weren't such a brat.”
Yuuji shakes his head, a massive grin plastered to his face. “Nuh-uh! You are brat!”
Sukuna raises his eyebrows and you chuckle, nodding at the boy with approval. “Tell me about it,” You encourage, and the boy in turn giggles, liking that you took to his side. 
The older of the two holds a predatory smile, and you raise your eyebrows. “You wanna say that again, kid?”
Yuuji doesnt understand threats, nor does he know that brat is considered an insult. “Brother Kuna is brat! Like me!”
Sukuna’s hands dart out to your lap, and make their way to Yuujis sides, quickly running his fingers over the skin. The boy squeals again, and then begins to frantically giggle at the ticklish feeling. Your lover's hands are tortuous on the boy, and in turn Yuuji's laugh begins to echo in the room, as he tries to squirm away. “No! Kuna! No!” He squeals, tiny fingers clawing into you as he tries to seek help from you. 
His brother holds a small smile too, obviously trying to hold the cold front, but can't when hearing the infectious laugh. Eventually, when Yuuji seems to be loosing airflow from all his laughing, you defend the boy, batting away your lovers hands from his small body. Yuuji comes collapsing into your abdomen, trying to catch his breath, but smiling non the less. You stare fondly at him.
Sukuna, on the other hand, manages to find a paper folded in Yuujis pocket. He glances at the kid, who is already watching him with pure adoration. The kid had a huge problem of idolizing his older brother, even after being tortured by tickling and left outside the room.
Yuuji points to the paper. “Gift!”
“Did you draw us something?” You question, tapping on Yuujis nose. He smiles and nods, squirming in excitement for you guys to see.
Your lover unfolds the paper, glancing at you with a bored expression. You read right through him though. He is curious to see what his brother made, you just know it. Yuuji's hands grips onto your shirt.
Inside is three stick figures, obviously drawn by a young child. Some of the heads are too big, and they are drawn with purple crayon, sloppy, but made with love. There is a little figure in the middle, coated with pink hair, and holding onto two taller peoples hands. On his left side is a carbon copy of the little one, also with pink hair, but frowning. On his right, was the color of your hair made sloppily with marker, and a smile big enough to match Yuujis. Cute.
“That ones me!” Yuuji exclaims, pointing to the little figure in the middle. 
“I couldn't tell,” Sukuna says very much sarcastically. Yuuji doesnt understand it, so he beams with pride, excited at the idea of possibly being compared to his brother that he idolizes so.
The boy giggles, and turns to you for confirmation. “Do me and brother look alike?”
You hum in thought, dramatically tapping your chin. “Definitely. But, one of you guys happens to be way cuter than the other though.” Before Yuuji can ask who, you lean forward and blow raspberries on his stomach, chuckling when more squeals and giggles come tumbling out. Sukuna hides a smile.
A second later Yuuji comes flying out of your lap and into Sukunas. The older grabs him forcefully by the hood of his jacket, like a mother cat does to its kittens. You roll your eyes at the treatment, knowing well that Sukuna by now knows how to hold a child. But the boy doesn't mind, now sitting contently in Sukunas lap and staring up at him. “You wanna look like me?”
“Yes!”
“Good.” Sukuna licks his hand, and you furrow your eyebrows. Then he very much too forcibly runs his fingers through Yuuji's hair. You jump watching the boy nearly collapse backward at the motion of his hands, but braces himself. Sukuna has a really bad problem of treating his brother with a little to much force than what a child should be used to. But Yuuji was a strong kid, so he never barked a lick of complaint – it was only you that were biting your fingers with nerves. 
Sukuna brushes the pink hair backward, similar to his hair cut. Then he uses more saliva to spike it up. Once finished he nods at the kid, content with the hair that looks identical to his.
“Alright. Good. Now go grab a sharpie, we gotta give you some tattoes.”
Yuuji borderline has a tantrum when you tell him why you can't do that, while Sukuna laughs the entire time. But, the two of you compromise, and now there is a picture hung in Sukunas room where Yuuji is coated with black marker tattoos, identical to his brother.
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zhukzucraft · 11 days
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EPISODE ONE, BEGIN
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Grian: Welcome
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Grian: to Double Life²
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Grian: a return to a tried and true format of season 3.
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Grian: That's right, we're doubling down on Double Life! You will be randomly assigned a soulmate you will share your healthbar with.
Grian: But this time we have taken measures to ensure the game doesn't end at record speeds.
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Bdubs: Are you finally letting us sleep through the night?
Tango: Did the amount of hearts get doubled?
Scott: Did you realize the mechanic itself is broken?
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Grian: No, don't be silly.
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Grian: We are adding more people to the roster! They may not be new to this in general, but only now will they get the chance to find true love.
Skizz: BOO YAH! I'm single and ready to mingle!
Lizzie: True love, eh? An intriguing concept, but I'll need more evidence to truly believe it.
Joel: Lizzie pLEASE
Grian: not to mention-
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Grian: -a certain mysterious duo will be joining us for the very first time!
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Grian: Give it up for---!
=====> Reveal the vote winners
(The vote is now finished and hidden under the readmore)
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gdjyho · 1 month
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PILLOWTALK
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synopsis ; a late night , much needed, hot fück session. pure smut.
pairing ; jungkook x f!reader
warnings ; s€xual content, slapping [face and ass], crying, big d!ck jk, choking, unprotected, mentions of smoking, not really proofread, lemme know if there’s any more.
i love to hold close, tonight and always…
his doe eyes pierce right through yours, stare feeling as if it’s entering your soul. your mouth lays slightly ajar. your lips and tongue get drier by what feel is like the second. jungkook’s slender fingers snake around your battered neck and your head rests against the head board slightly leant back.
he grins ever so slightly before soaking your lips with his own spit. before you get a chance to react, his lips are smashed on yours and moving in all sorts of directions. your chests stick together and your rise up to claw at each others’ sweat clad necks. “ you’re always so good f’me” he whispers out.
jungkook roughly grips your shoulders, easily flipping your on top without breaking the intimate eye contact shared between the two of you. you feel the oxygen seep back into your lungs like a sponge from the release of your neck. in the silence of the room, he enters you with no words. his cock mauls your gummy walls as he navigates your sweet spot.
So we'll piss off the neighbors…
you fail to let out any words at the pleasure your receiving. in doing so, your whimper and moan along with a whole other string of sounds. you begin to move up and down on jungkook’s abdomen as the biting pain of his length subsides. you let out even more pornographic moans which make a melody with the sound of your crotches meeting and tearing away.
you lean down to kiss his mole under his soaked bottom lip. he kisses your forehead and praises you simultaneously. your eyes clasp shut as your brain digs up from the ecstasy jungkook gives you. it’s indescribable how deeply far in you are for the man under your body.
“you’re fucking me so good!” you tell him. the smell of the room, all stuffy drives jungkook insane. he begins to attack your neck and your back forms a snake shape and your hips move round. his dick stuffs your to the brim, forming a visible lump in your tummy. he chuckles, prodding the hill he’s made. your toes curl as you feel your climax.
you fight it, wanting him to fill you up first. his face scrunches up into and unreadable expression. he’s gonna fill me up you think. you chuckle slightly, finally getting the sweet release you’ve needed from him. you grip his sleeve of tattoos tightly, as your tight hole reaches max capacity.
in the place that feels the tears..
your eyes well up like swimming pools as his cum slides around inside of you. you grind your hips harder on him insatiably. you throw your head back and groan as he does. you emotionally give yourself up to him, submitting yourself to jungkook and become completely vunerable.
“ahhhhh princess look at you milking me” he sort of slurs out, being drunk on pleasure and your mixed juices. he slowly and dreadfully pulls out and places you on your side of the bed. he gets up and strides along to your en suite. your smile as you get the perfect view of his god-sent ass.
after some cluttering is heard and cupboards close, he walks out and reaches for his black calvin klein briefs. he slips back next to you, creating a dip in the bed. he toys at your bangs, swirling and twisting what’s not dampened by sweat. “oh baby. if only you knew how cute you were”
he grabs his phone from the low nightstand and steals a picture of you and fucked out and cheesing at the camera while trying to grab his phone from him. “jungkook !” you laugh out, while he pins your hands back down. he laughs at his ability to easily control and power over you.
yeah, reckless behavior
he pecks you before getting up and lighting stray cigarette from the nightstand and placing it in between his lips. jungkook has to flick the lighter a few times before managing to make a spark. he inhales before blowing out a pillar of fog into the room. you pinch it out from between his lips and place the dampened stick between your lips.
it swirls around in your lungs for a short amount of time before you let the air loose. he opens the window, letting the various smells exit the room. you get up and move closer to him. you step infront of jungkook and he sneaks his hands around your waist. his lips meet your neck softly and withdraw along with a sloppy trail. you sigh in satisfaction.
it’s our paradise and it's our war zone.
- quickly crafted this one. 😶
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yandere-daydreams · 1 month
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file #3: the foot fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!nanami kento x reader (jjk)
length: 2.1k.
warning: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), foot jobs, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of kidnapping, unbalanced power dynamics, and cannot mention it enough: feet.
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You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here.
Which was to say, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this position, not this physical location – the small kitchen of Nanami’s up-until-recently neglected apartment, back pressed against the rounded edge of a pristine marble countertop and hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles were beginning to turn white. That, you could explain in fifteen words or less: Psychotic Ex-Boyfriend Kidnaps Overly Trusting Partner To Roleplay Repressed Domestic Fantasies, with further elaboration possible if you ever got the chance to talk to anyone who wasn’t currently holding you hostage. That, as much as you hated it, was normal. You knew why you were here.
It was much less normal to have Nanami on one knee in front of you, head bowed and one of your feet sitting in the palm of his hand. You hadn’t decided whether it was good abnormal or bad abnormal, yet, but still – not normal.
It must’ve been a rough day. He always looked tired when he got home, but tonight, he seemed exhausted – blond hair in a state of styled disarray, tie gone and shirt already partially unbuttoned, the circles under his eyes just a shade darker than they had been that morning. There was a cut on his cheek, too, and a tear along the wrist of his sleeve. Usually, he would’ve tried to get you to fuss over the damage, to trade privileges like a few minutes of T.V. and the latest news about your friends and family and not being handcuffed to his bed whenever he couldn’t watch you himself for sex and domestic labor and the faux-reciprocation of his obsession, but you hadn’t been able to say anything, let alone do anything before he’d fallen into his current position at your feet, his cheek resting gingerly against the inside of your thigh and his pale face slightly pink. He hadn’t said anything, either. You were starting to think he never would.
Unable to find an explanation written on the back of his head, you turned your attention to yourself. You’d been thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when he got home, because cooking meant he had to trust you with something more dangerous than a plastic spoon and you couldn’t go back to not being able to hold your own toothbrush, even if that meant having to trip over yourself to play housewife with your captor. You were dressed for housework, but that didn’t mean much. Nanami picked out all of your clothes, and he liked you in soft, pastel silk gowns and cutesy, garish vintage dresses. Your current dress was far from overly provocative – the neckline above your collarbones, the skirt falling to your knees. He’d seen you in it before, too, and never had this reaction.
The only new factor was your socks, but that would’ve been ridiculous. It was a new pair – a far cry from the thigh-highs and nylon stockings he usually bought for you. The material was thick and white and cottony, only ankle-high with ribbed hems and a lace trip. He was cupping the arch of your foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole, and the plush fabric rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as he shifted his hold ever so slightly downward. More out of reflex than anything, you jerked back, your toes curling downward as you tried to weakly pull yourself out of his hold, and as if pulled out a trance, Nanami snapped up at you, tired eyes weary and lips slightly parted. Your eyes met his, and for a second, it was all you could do to stay still, to stay quiet, to not yell or scream or thrash until finally, Nanami’s weary expression broke into a slight grin, an airy laugh trickling past his lips as his stare fell back to your foot. “They’re… cute,” he started, slowly, nuzzling his cheek gingerly against your thigh. “I knew they would be, but—” A pause, a kiss to the tender patch just above your knee. “—you always manage to surprise me.”
You managed to smile shakily. “Sorry, Kento, I didn’t mean to distract you. Why don’t you sit somewhere a little more comfortable? I can start on—”
“In a minute.” Another hand was brought up and wrapped around your ankle, just above the lace trim of your sock. His forehead settled against your thigh as he lifted your foot gently and with an almost painful sort of delicacy, pressed the sole of your foot into the bulging tent in his pants that you’d been trying so hard to ignore. You felt his lazy grin press into your skin, and something cracked open in your chest.
This time, you couldn’t stifle your immediate reaction; lurching back, your hands finding the edge of the counter as you tried to pull away from him. It took nothing for him to keep you in place, though, and even worse – the ball of your heel pressed into his shaft as you tried to get away, rolling against his cock with a little too much force and drawing a low grunt from the base of Nanami’s throat. Instantly, you regretted moving at all. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
 “Again.”
You fell silent. His head lulled forward, pressing into your thigh, and somehow, you managed to spit something out. “…I’m sorry, Kento?”
“Again, angel, please,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. You didn’t move, but he didn’t need you to – his hips jutting forward, grinding stiltedly against the sole of your foot. Any vague illusion of wholesomeness was forgotten entirely as he fell onto his knees, unabashedly rutting against your leg with all the shame and all the pride of a stray animal, desperate for its twisted idea of affection. You made a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself, to focus on the white tiles of his kitchen (not quite dirty, but not as clean as they could be, either – you’d have to do the floors tomorrow), then the far wall (there was a layer of dust along the edge of the light switch fame – you could take care of that later on tonight), but it would’ve been impossible not to think about the wet, hot breath fanning over your thigh, the stiff cock throbbing against your foot. You thought would’ve gotten used to his—uh, his unwanted attention by now, gone numb to the feeling of his mouth on your neck and his fingers on your clit, but this was a type of fresh humiliation you weren’t familiar with, the kind of unthinkable debasement that made your face heat-up and your thought spiral down, down, down. When your paralysis persisted, Nanami grit his teeth, rocked your foot against the length of his cock without ever letting his hips stop moving – like he was trying to fuck a hole through your heel. It was a rough, jagged motion; almost clumsy, despite the fact that you’d never seen him so much as trip. It might’ve left you off-balance, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter so tightly. You might’ve fallen, if you thought that you would be enough to make him stop.
You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to suck in a shuddering breath, but that was a mistake – showing any kind of weakness was a mistake. You felt one of his groping hands on your upper thigh, then your ass, finally finding the thin, flimsy material of your panties and pulling. There was no elegant way to strip you down, so he didn’t try to be elegant. There was a harsh tearing sound, the feeling of blunt nails scraping against unprotected skin, and then, scraps of ruined material were scattered on the floor at your feet, the skirt of your dress pushed up to your waist as he forced his face between your legs, mouth already open and tongue already lapping over your cunt.
It was a bad position; the distance too far, the angle too sharp, everything about strained and awkward and unnecessary, but Nanami didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care. His tongue ran over the length of your slit before he latched onto your clit and sucked. Instantly, it was too much – a strangled cry tearing past your lips as you buckled into yourself, your knees nearly giving out as another reverberating moan sent pangs of something sharp and electric stabbing into your core. Against your better judgement, your hands shot from the counter to his hair, your fingers soon knotted in a mess of blonde in a futile attempt to pry him away from you. He only melted into your hostile touch, one of his hands remaining on your ankle while the other found your hip, keeping you still and pliable as his attention dipped lower, the flat of his tongue pushing broad patterns into your entrance as the bridge of his nose ground lazily against your clit. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice little more than a throaty, ragged murmur – almost too deep to be audible and constantly interrupted by the sound of your slick on his lips, on his tongue. You wished he wouldn’t talk. You wished he wouldn’t pretend to love you. You wished he wouldn’t force you to do the same. “You’re so—so pretty, and so perfect, and—”
A guttural moan cut him off, and his attention shifted, his head lulling back just far enough to stare up at you with eyes so soft and so tender, you could almost forget he was humping your leg like a bitch in heat. You were suddenly aware of your own distraught expression – all grit teeth and misty eyes, misery and pleasure flooding through your veins in tandem. You wanted to ask him not to look at you. You needed to ask him to stop, but—
You felt a frigid ache in your left wrist – the wrist he’d kept shackled to the bedpost for the first three weeks of your kidnapping. You tried to open your mouth, but your tongue was deathly dry, your throat stuffed with cotton, the feeling not entirely unsimilar to the residue left behind by the velvet gags he used to shove in your mouth when you didn’t want to lay there and let him break you. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything as he let out a final, primal groan – as you felt something thick and hot soak through the fabric of his dress pants and into your ridiculous, childish socks. He whined into your cunt, fingers burrowing into your waist as he dragged you that much closer to his mouth. His tongue fucked shallowly into your cunt, and a whine caught in your throat as your vision burnt white, as you came unwillingly on his tongue.
You couldn’t do it, anymore. With his hand still on your hip, his cum still searing into the sole of your foot, you collapsed. Nanami caught you before you hit the ground, and you hated him for it. You wished he’d let you crumble to the tile floor, wished he’d just watch and laugh as you curled into a ball and stayed there for the rest of the night, the rest of the week. You wished he’d—
Oh, god, you’d made yourself cry. Nanami let out a breathy chuckle as you sniffled and tried not to wail, kissing your tear-stained cheeks with a gentleness you couldn’t seem to link to the man who’d just cum to a pair of socks. “It’s alright, angel. You can let it out.” Another kiss, this one to your forehead. “Too much?”
You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt his arms wrap around you, keeping your body pressed into his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few seconds of quiet, unthinking solace before he lowered you onto your shared bed – a pair of shackles still hanging, unlocked and waiting, from the headboard. Immediately, you scrambled for the nearest pillow, burying your face in the plush material and sobbing openly. Nanami’s comfort came in the form of a wry grin, a pair of hands on your hips, turning you onto your stomach and starting on the buttons of your dress.
As he settled between your legs, his calloused fingertips skirting over your bare skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if the shackles had really been so bad.
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Sleepyhead
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: sometimes race weekends can be so tiring that words escape you, but that has never been a problem for your doting boyfriend
Based on this request
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You walk down the paddock path, utterly exhausted after a long day at the track. Your eyelids feel like lead weights and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, practically carrying your limp body as you lean into him for support.
“Tired, mon petit chou?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You just let out a little grunt in response, too drained to even form words.
As you round the corner, Logan Sargeant spots the two of you and rushes over with a big grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”
Charles gives him a polite smile. “Hello, mate. We’re doing well, just a bit tired after such a busy day.”
Logan turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of … mad or something.”
You blink slowly at him, your brain taking its time to process his words. Mad? Why would you be mad? You just shake your head minutely, rubbing your cheek against Charles’ shoulder.
“Oh no, she’s not angry,” Charles explains with a little chuckle. “This is just how she gets when she’s really tired. She goes all quiet and doesn’t speak. Her body language is the only way to read her moods then.”
“Yeah, and right now she’s giving off major sleepy kitten vibes,” Oscar’s voice chimes in as he joins the little group with Lando beside him. “Lando gets the exact same way when he’s exhausted. He turns into a limp noodle that I have to carry around.”
Lando huffs indignantly. “Hey! I do not!”
“Yes you do,” Oscar laughs. “Remember that time in Monza last year? You were falling asleep on your feet after the race.”
Lando rolls his eyes but a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Okay fine, maybe I do. But only sometimes!”
You let their playful banter wash over you, your heavy eyelids sliding shut as you nestle further into Charles’ embrace. You feel so safe and comforted in his arms, his solid warmth enveloping you.
“Alright, I think it’s time we got you back to the hotel for some rest,” Charles murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Say goodnight to the boys.”
You manage a tiny wave at Logan, Oscar, and Lando before allowing Charles to steer you down the paddock towards the exit. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly.
“Goodnight you two! Get some sleep!” Oscar calls after you.
Once you reach the car, Charles helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in gently before jogging around to the driver’s side. You’re asleep before he even starts the engine, finally giving in to the exhaustion weighing you down.
The sound of a car door opening rouses you from your slumber sometime later. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Charles’ hand is tenderly stroking your cheek.
“Mon amour, we’re at the hotel. Let’s get you up to our room, hmm?”
You nod drowsily, allowing him to unbuckle you and help you out of the car. He pulls you into his side, one arm securely around your waist as you walk unsteadily towards the hotel entrance. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what you feel for this man by your side.
Once in the elevator, Charles shifts to face you fully, those warm green eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“You did so well today. I’m so proud of you for working so hard. Let’s get you nice and warm in bed now.”
You give him a tired little smile, nuzzling your face against his chest. He chuckles softly, squeezing you tighter.
Eventually you make it to the hotel room, Charles guiding you straight to the plush king bed. He helps you out of your clothes until you’re down to your underwear, then pulls back the covers for you to slip between the soft sheets. A happy sigh slips from your lips when your head hits the pillow. Charles presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“Sleep well, mon cœur. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispers, laying down beside you.
You immediately curl into his side, draping an arm over his stomach as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, making you feel so small yet so incredibly cherished. With Charles holding you snugly against his chest, you drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber.
When consciousness returns, the first thing that registers is the solid warmth of Charles’ body pressed against yours. His leg is hooked over yours, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. There’s a pleasant ache to your limbs, the satisfying kind that comes from a good rest after a long day. You shift slightly, causing Charles to stir awake.
“Bonjour, ma belle,” he murmurs, his sexy morning voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You tilt your head up to meet his sleepy but adoring gaze, suddenly drowning in those green pools. God, he’s so beautiful.
“Good morning,” you whisper back, rubbing your nose against his.
Charles breaks into a dazzling grin, capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that steals your breath away. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek tenderly.
“Did you sleep well? Feeling more rested now?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum, smiling lazily. “Sleeping in your arms is the best.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t agree more. I love holding you close like this.”
Your heart swells three sizes as he gazes at you with such naked affection. This man loves you so fiercely, so completely. You can see it in his every look, his every touch. He treasures you in a way you never thought possible. Feeling brave, you let the words sitting heavily on your tongue finally slip out.
“Je t’aime, Charles … mon amour.”
His smile turns blinding, happier than you’ve ever seen it. “I love you too, with all my heart,” he breathes, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.
You melt into the embrace, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude you feel for this incredible man into the kiss. Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect than being here in his arms. As Charles strokes your cheek and deepens the kiss, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll always feel safe, cherished, and deeply loved by this extraordinary man.
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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months
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Intrusive Thoughts- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: bestfriend!reader x bestfriend!Matt
classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF (well a little fluff bc filler parts)
warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, masturbation, use of y/n, cursing, suggestive content, forced proximity, Nick and Chris can drive bc if not this wouldn’t work & I don’t want to make up extra characters, short
inspiration: request^^
summary: You’re forced to sit on Matt’s lap during a long roadtrip and once you arrive at your destination he lets his intrusive thoughts win.
Intrusive Thoughts PT.1, PT.2
“Stop moving,” Matt grumbles, his legs going numb from the constant applied pressure. You’re currently sitting on his lap, every other spot in the car completely overtaken with bags, blankets, pillows, and warm bodies. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I have to pee,” you reply in a hushed tone, feeling embarrassed for all your constant squirming. You’ve had to pee for the past two hours and you won’t reach the next gas station until 30 minutes.
Matt hates himself for enjoying this, despite his legs being completely numb, he can feel everything on his lap. The view is nice too, your tight leggings hugging your round ass perfectly. You squirm again, accidentally grinding down onto Matt hard enough for his dick to twitch. All he can do is hope you can’t feel it and pray he can think of anything other than you for the remainder of the trip.
“Nick, pull over I actually can’t hold it,” you say, standing up slightly to point to the side of the road. Your ass is on full display for Matt now, he just wants to reach out and grab it. Nick sends you an annoyed glare as he pulls off the highway and onto the access road.
A relieved sigh leaves your lips, your body plopping back down onto Matt’s lap aggressively as you rush to get out of the car. Matt groans at the contact, the force at which you sat on him sending him into a frenzy.
“Don’t look!” you exclaim, running deep into the forest that ligned the road to hide behind a tree. Nick is annoyed and tired from all the driving and Chris is fast asleep. Matt was too busy trying to hide his erection to even care.
Why did he agree to come on this road trip? Why didn’t he just offer to drive? Now he’s stuck in the backseat with you on his lap and there’s nothing he can do about it.
“Finally,” Nick groans in annoyance, watching as you run out from behind the trees and hop back into the car. You sit yourself on Matt’s lap again, this time much closer to his crotch and he swears he sees stars from this alone.
This was going to be a long, painful car ride.
You’re asleep, leaning into the bags and pillows that litter the middle seat, a blanket thrown over yours and Matt’s lap haphazardly. You stir slightly with each sharp turn or sudden bump, scooting back onto your make-shift pillow each time. The blanket serves as the perfect shield from wandering eyes and Matt uses it to his advantage, allowing his hands to hold you in place dangerously close to your inner thighs.
The car drives over a bumpy road causing you to bounce slightly on Matt’s lap, the pressure creating a sensation that he begins to welcome. Once the road smooths out again, you readjust yourself and wiggle your hips in an attempt to anchor yourself. Matt bites his lips and looks away, trying to fight the perverse thoughts that form in his mind.
All he can think about is you in your shared hotel room, clothes discarded and scattered on the floor. He imagines you laid out for him on the plush white comforter, ready to do any and everything he says. The bed would rock with each thrust causing the headboard to slam against the wall, informing all your neighbors that you belong to no one other than him.
His eyes are closed tightly, head leaned against the cold window as he tries coming back to reality. He exhales sharply, willing himself to stop thinking about you that way. You’re his best friend, and best friends weren’t supposed to imagine how the other would look naked. He wasn’t supposed to be fantasizing about your lips wrapped around him, or your legs pressed against your chest while his large hands held them in place.
“We’re here?” Chris croaks from the front seat, his voice still hoarse from his long nap. Nick hums in response, pulling up to the hotel parking lot.
Suddenly the car stops making Matt’s head bump against the glass slightly. You wake up from the sudden movement, stretching a little before turning towards Matt. You offer him an innocent smile, “Hi.”
He returns the smile, trying to pretend like he wasn’t just imagining you with his dick in your mouth. “Hi, sleep good?” he asks, still holding you securely in place by your thighs. He squeezes them briefly, before reluctantly dragging his hands away.
“Mhm,” you reply, your voice cracking a little from not talking for hours. He wants you making those noises from under him.
Chris opens the backseat car door before Matt can reply, causing you to jump off of his lap. You, Nick and Chris work towards getting all the bags out of the car while Matt tries to compose himself.
Finally, when he’s almost 100% his erection isn’t noticeable, he gets out of the car.
Matt knew he was sharing a room with you from the get-go, especially because he was the one who invited you on this trip in the first place, but the thought was still enough to excite him. It spiked his nerves, sending all his blood to his dick as he imagined all the possibilities.
“You can sleep, I’m gonna shower,” you say once you’re in the room, locking the door behind you. He fights the urge to follow after you, desperate for a little show. He’d have to save it for his dreams though, because despite being sexually frustrated, Matt was really tired and his legs were sore from the car ride.
“Okay.” He’s kicking his shoes off and undresses until he’s only in his boxers. Matt gets comfortable under the sheets, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep before you get out of the shower. But it’s no use, his mind is racing with thoughts of you.
You in a bikini, you in a short skirt, you with a low cut top, you eating a popsicle, you kneeling down in front of him and letting him slap you in the face with his dick. So many dirty thoughts run through Matt’s head, all of them involving you in a compromising position.
His hand instinctively travels down under the waistband of his boxers, tugging until his cock is free. You were still in the shower, the steam coming out from under the door and the soft pitter patter of the water filled the room. Matt knew he had at least 15 minutes before you returned into the room ready for bed, plus the plush comforter served as an illusion, it was so big that you couldn’t even tell there was someone laying under it.
Slowly, he strokes himself, biting his lip to stop himself from making any noise. All of his fantasies play through his head, and like credits at the end of a movie, they're never ending. He picks up the pace, trying to finish before you’re done in the shower.
He hears the water turn off, mentally cursing himself for somehow not being able to finish. Just moments ago he was ready to bust at the idea of you and now the performance anxiety is inhibiting his climax. “Come on, come on,” he mutters, thrusting into his hand relentlessly, imagining that it was your hand instead of his. Finally he feels it, his climax builds and with one last pump he’s cumming into his hand. A quiet whimper comes from Matt, finally feeling satisfied.
The bathroom door opens, the light illuminating the rest of the room as you walk out in nothing but a cropped tank top and tight shorts. Your head is tilted to the side, your hands working a brush through your wet, tangled hair.
“Can you help?” you ask Matt, hoping he’ll help you get the knots out faster. He closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep to avoid the awkward situation under the sheets. His boxers are midway down his thighs, his soft dick laying on his stomach as remnants of his session linger on his hand.
You realize he’s asleep, or that he’s pretending, and huff in annoyance before returning back into the restroom to finish your night routine.
He didn’t know how he was going to survive the rest of the night.
Matt tosses and turns all night, unable to get comfortable no matter how hard he tries. You’re facing away from him because he’s sleeping on the side with the window and the sheer curtains do nothing to shield the obnoxious hallway light. Your soft snores fill the room, and even though Matt’s still physically tired, his mind is awake with thoughts of you.
After you got into bed, he hurried into the restroom and you wondered why. He stayed in there for a while, giving you enough time to think about a night with him and not an innocent one either. You fell asleep thinking about everything he’d do to you, all the positions he’d put you in.
“Y/n,” Matt whispers, nudging you gently. You’re out cold though, soft whimpers coming from you. At one point he swears he hears his name. “Y/n!” he whispers again, but much louder.
You finally stir, your head turning to face him as your eyes drowsily finding his face, adjusting to the dark. “What?” you croak, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You were having a good dream and the sooner you could return to it, the better. So, whatever Matt wanted better be good.
“I can’t sleep,” he whispers, pulling the comforter up higher against his neck. You groan in annoyance, turning away from him once again, “count sheep.” You close your eyes, preparing to enter another deep sleep full of dreams of Matt.
Matt snakes an arm over your waist, sneakily managing to go under your shirt. He’s only testing the waters though, not trying to take things too far too fast. “I did already,” he mumbles, tracing mindlessly shapes on your skin.
“Think of something boring,” you instruct.
How could he though when you’re right here, infecting his thoughts with perverse fantasies. “Can’t. Can only think of you,” he whispers, finally giving in to his intrusive thoughts as he presses a kiss onto your shoulder.
Whatever sleep you felt immediately leaves your body at the confession. Matt’s hand travels further up your shirt, holding one of your boobs. You groan at the sensation, instinctively scooting closer to him. Your ass presses against his crotch and immediately you feel his dick, it’s begging to be set free.
“I was dreaming of you,” you admit, one of your hands traveling behind you to massage Matt’s clothed penis. Your fingers manage to wrap around him despite the boxers being in the way, massaging him slowly. “Yeah? What was I doing?” he asks through strained moans, trying to see how far you two will go.
“Making me feel good.”
“Be specific, baby,” he grunts, bucking into your hand.
You proceed to describe your dream, all the dirty details only adding to Matt’s already active imagination. “First, you fucked me in the shower, lathering me up with soap and kissing all over my body. You fucked me against the glass and we left our handprints all over it,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his cock slightly. Matt’s breath hitches in his throat at the idea of you covered in sudsy bubbles.
“Then, you fucked me on the bathroom counter. You made me feel so good I screamed your name,” your voice is so seductive it has Matt whimpering. You move your hand from over his boxers and trail just above his waistband, allowing your fingers to linger there for a while before finally diving in.
“I sucked your dick on the balcony while you sat in the lounge chair. You came all over my face, all over my chest. All over, baby,” you pump his cock slowly, listening for his whimpers. His eyes are squeezed shut, he’s imagining every single scenario in full detail.
“Then I sat on it and bounced on it for hours. It felt so good,” you added. He squeezes your tit in his hand, pinching your nipple in the process and eliciting a small moan from you. “You sucked on my tits while I bounced on it, baby. You made me feel so good.”
Matt groans at the visual, he can’t take it anymore, if you keep going he’ll bust all over your hand without warning. “Stop,” he groans, pushing your hand off him before he can finish. If you two are going to do this, you’re going to do it right.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he says, eagerly tugging your shorts off. You kick the shorts off, clenching around nothing at the thought of him inside you.
He lines himself up with your entrance, groaning at how warm and ready you are for him. Slowly, he pushes in, allowing himself to adjust to the new sensation. You feel so good clenching around him as you try and take as much of him as possible.
“Tell me more, princess,” he moans, his hips slowly beginning to rock back and forth at a rhythmic pace.
You’re struggling to remember the dream now, but you’re afraid that if you don’t speak Matt will stop. “I was on the edge of the bed, face down ass up for you and you were- fuck.” His hips snap into you, the angle hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
“Keep going,” he instructs, using his hand to work circles on your clit.
With each thrust your brain becomes foggier and foggier, but you’re eager to please. “You were fucking me from behind and your balls slapped against my pussy,” you spilled out quickly, a loud moan following right after.
“Then?” Matt grunts, you clenched around him in desperation for more. “Ugh.. then we did it in the hot tub. You undid my bikini and I sat on it. I bounced on it, felt so good,” you’re babbling at this point, struggling to form coherent words.
“Bounced on what?” He’s fucking you so hard and fast right now you don’t understand how he can even think straight.
“On your big dick,” you whimper, feeling your climax approach quickly. Matt stops asking questions, instead focusing his attention on pushing you past your breaking point. He’s starting to see stars, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as he nears his orgasm.
“So fucking good,” he grunts, biting down on your shoulder as he cums inside of you, his hand still expertly drawing circles on your clit. The combination of stimulation is enough to make you cum, your body convulsing as you clench and cream around him.
You’re chanting his name, your thighs instinctively pushing together as the overstimulation becomes too much. He smiles at how fucked out he has you, removing his hand and finally slipping out of you.
The room goes silent, both of you so tangled in eachother that you can’t tell where one of you starts and where the other ends. He feels the drowsiness settle in his eyelids, they start to feel heavy and he fights it until he can’t anymore.
Shortly after him, you fall asleep too. Whatever consequences that were going to arise from tonight were tomorrow’s problem.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
🤫🤫
Shh they eepy.
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @sturniololovers
2K notes · View notes
adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months
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Thinking about playfighting with Rafayel
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+ brief sexual content, play fighting, subby rafayel
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Your sweet, dramatic friend of a man. Your fights with him normally stay in the verbal arena, where he excels at throwing playful jabs, sassy remarks, the quick teasing nickname, and occasional cocky comment. When he’s smart-mouthed one too many times, oh, that’s when you have to drag him into your arena. It never hurts to teach your Lemurian charge who’s the real boss from time to time.
It never goes far; you think he might be a little too delicate for your full strength. So, you stick to a quick tackle, some torturous tickles, and silly pokes, all in attempts to make his face go a lovely shade of red and hear him beg for mercy. You love when he’d whine your name and plead for forgiveness while the angry pout and glare after would always be the icing on a very much deserved cake.
Sometimes, when he’s in a cheerful mood, he fights back, determined to give you a taste of your own medicine.
It always ends up with you two on the ground in front of his couch. You pin him on his stomach to punish him for defying you, and he tries his best to regain dominance. Even with all his squiggling and wiggling like an octopus out of water, he won’t be able to get you off.
Forcing yourself to lie on top of him and pressing your chest into his back, you ignore his demands for you to let him up, not until he apologizes. Ah, but he never wants to give in right away, and you up your force a little as he tries to flip you over.
Then, there’s a tug.
It’s an accident.
You weren’t entirely paying attention to where your hand was until there’s already wavy purple strands tangled around your fingers and the loud moan that filled the room was already beginning to fade away. It leaves you frozen with Rafayel whose hair is clutched in your hands and whose ears and face are very, very deep red.
This is certainly a first.
“Did you just—” you ask.
“No,” he groans out, but his denial is short lived because you just can’t resist teasing him and seeing that blushing face of his, so obviously, you have to experiment by giving another light tug. It yields the same result: a whine held deep in his throat and the tensing of his legs under you.
“Stop,” he says. “You’re gonna—”
You cut him off with a grunt, already knowing where he was going.
“Turn you on?” You finish for him. “Don't tell me you have a hard on.”
The pout he gives is adorable, his face brightly decorated like a bucket of vermillion paint was dumped on him. He lifts his arm to his face, trying to hide the blush behind his hand, which you take that to mean as a ‘yes’.
“What else do you expect to happen when you do that?” he comments between heavy breathes, and the absolute embarrassment laced in his voice makes a tingle go down your spine as he sputters out lame excuse after excuse – it was reflex, random timing, the rubbing, to try not to get too full of yourself—like he was an inexperienced young man dealing with his first rush of hormones.
All you could hear was your own thoughts whirling faster and faster and the adorably flustered sounds of his voice straining as you repositioned on top of him.
“Round 2,” you whisper then blow against the back of his heated neck, causing him to shudder.
A lightly grumbled “shameless as always,” puffs from behind his trembling hand. But when have you ever led him to believe that you weren’t especially in situations like these?
You squeeze your hand between his stomach and the floor, slowly drawing it down and stopping at his belt. He doesn't fight it, doesn't move even, maybe is silently anticipating this even more than you. Still, you’re not “shameless” enough to not give him a choice in the matter.
“Last chance to tap out, fishie. Apologize,” you warn.
It takes him time to respond, but when he does you can’t resist smirking. He finally asks, “Do you really think I’d give in so easily? Do your worst.”
You nearly laugh. That’s what you thought.
1K notes · View notes
m0llygunn · 5 months
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shy girl (eddie munson x fem!reader)
summary: typically shy, you aren't good at telling eddie what you want. finally brave enough to ask, eddie happily rewards you
cw: 18+!, mature language, petnames, smut, pinv sex (unprotected), creampie, anal fingering, shy/nervous first time anal reader idk, lots of praising, porn with very little plot an: wrote this a while ago and was suppose to be a 3 part butt stuff saga lol but i probably won't do the other 2 parts if im being honest. makes sense alone, theres just clearly a segue for the other parts at the end. kind of edited but not really. wc: 3.6k+
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Your stomach clenches, whole body quivering with nerves.
“Y’okay?” he asks from behind you, finger just barely brushing over the focus of tonight.
“M’okay,” you answer tentatively.
“You don’t sound okay?”
“I want to do this,” you say with an exhale, forcing your muscles to relax. You drop the side of your head further into the plushness of the pillow, back arching deeper as you breathe away the low vibrations of your nervousness. 
His hands rise up your lower back, palms flat to your skin. “You don’t have to.” He glides both thumbs up the sides of your spine before rounding them outwards, massaging an achy spot you didn’t know existed. You relax into it, taking another breath. 
“I want to, Eddie. Wanna try it.”
His thumbs return to the base of your spine before gliding upwards, doing it all again. You could fall asleep if he kept doing this— but you don’t. You push yourself up, craning your neck to see him perched behind you on his knees. His eyes flicker up from the movements of his hands on your lower back to meet your gaze.
“Eddie, I’m serious. I want to try it,” you convince, eyeing him. His naked chest glistens in a faint sheen of sweat under the warm light of the bedroom, courtesy of the ample foreplay that brought you both here. His disheveled hair is further proof of how the night has gone. He raises his brows, showing off the sincerity in his widened eyes, hands paused on your skin. 
“If it’s just for me, I’m fine with how we usually have sex— I love your pussy,” he smiles crookedly.
Worked up, bare, his cock already hard, and so close to your soaked entrance— it would be easy to give in and let him fuck you stupid, but you prepared for this, you thought endlessly about this, you want this. 
“I’ve never done anal before though, wanna try it at least once.”
His hands resume their movements, this time gliding down and over the roundness of your ass. His thumb brushes over where you want him.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yes, Eddie. Please.”
“It’s gonna take a while if you don’t want it to hurt. We coulda been warming you up if you told me earlier.”
Your back arches deeper as you deflate, pressing your face forward into the pillow. You knew Eddie had more experience than you, you knew he’s done this before with other people, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. It was only in the heat of the moment when you managed to let the words slip from the tip of your tongue despite planning to say them at the beginning of the evening. At least this time you got the message out, last time you got ready for this, you chickened out on telling him what you wanted and went without.
Eddie brushes his thumb over your hole again before traveling down to your cunt, dipping into your wetness. Shallowly, he circles his thumb in your entrance.
“Shoula told me earlier, pretty girl,” Eddie says and your stomach drops with disappointment. You know you should have, you told him too late and now you have to wait again. 
His thumb pulls out from your cunt, trailing upwards. 
“Shoulda told me earlier, cause now I’m all worked up and need you— but you’re shy, aren’t you?” His voice drops to a low rasp that makes your disappointment vanish, heated excitement taking its place. “My shy girl, too nervous to tell me she wants me to fuck her in the ass.”
The warmth of your slick on his thumb circles around your puckered hole lightly, teasingly. 
“Are you my shy girl?” he asks.
You nod your head, the sound of ruffling cotton on your pillowcase acting as your response. You know Eddie doesn’t appreciate your lack of a real answer when his thumb stops it’s movement.
“Yes, I’m your shy girl,” you say quickly, wanting him to keep going.
“Good girl. My good, shy girl,” he hums. His thumb resumes circles before gliding right over your hole, adding increasing pressure that has your stomach squeezing. You hum happily, enjoying it so far but it doesn’t last for long when he removes both hands from you.
“Touch yourself, baby. Want to see your fingers in your pussy while I get your ass ready for my cock,” he says and your stomach flips.
“Touch myself?” you ask.
“Too shy to touch yourself f’me?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice. You hum, turning your head briefly into the pillow to hide, before taking a breath. 
“No,” you reply, the bashfulness of your voice telling both of you otherwise. You bravely snake a hand under your body, holding your hand flat over your mound. 
“That’s a good girl, let’s see you sink your little fingers into that pretty cunt.”
Hot and wet, your fingers glide in easily, an audible squelch of wetness sounding out that makes your skin heat from your neck all the way up to your cheeks. Eddie groans from behind you and it gives you the confidence to pull your fingers out, starting a slow pump. 
“Thatta girl, keep doing that,” he praises and you hear the mattress shuffle behind you. 
You turn your face to see Eddie but when you catch his gaze, he pointedly looks towards your cunt, reminding you with a raised brow to keep going. He shuffles off the bed, moving to the bedside table. Seconds later, with a clear bottle in hand, he crawls back into the bed, moving to sit behind you again. 
With the pop of a lid opening, your fingers pause as your mind’s focus shifts to what Eddie’s doing.
“Keep going baby,” he's quick to prompt. “Just gonna warm up some of this lube in my hands and we’ll get you started, okay?”
“Okay,” you reply meekly, making slow wiggles of your fingers inside of yourself, movements far too shallow and tame to get yourself off. 
“Gotta relax baby, focus on playing with yourself,” he guides as you hear the slickness of the lube being rubbed between his hands. He finally makes contact between your cheeks, rubbing the warmed up liquid over you. 
You try to continue plunging your fingers in and out of yourself but your attention wanes as the pads of his fingers rub circles over your hole. 
You resist the nervousness that threatens to creep in. It’s not that you don’t trust Eddie. You trust him more than yourself, it’s just new and you’re not sure what to make of it yet.
“Can you tell me what you’re doing?” you ask shyly. 
A gentle palm meets your lower back again, warmth spreading over your skin as he rubs soothingly. An appreciated affection that calms your nervousness. 
“’Course, baby,” he answers. “Just getting you ready and lubed up. The slicker you are, and the more relaxed you are, the easier it’ll be.”
You hum an agreement, trying your hardest to focus on fingering yourself. You start building a steady rhythm when Eddie’s hand pauses.
“Gonna start small, okay? Just gonna use my little finger at first— see how you like it.”
“Mhm, okay,” you agree. With his one hand still rubbing a soothing massage on your lower back, you feel the prod at your hole, slow and gentle.  
“Just, relax,” he hums quietly, “mhm, just like that, baby.” His little finger pushes into the tightness, and your own fingers pause completely as you take a moment to decipher the feeling. 
His hand slides from your lower back, down to rest on your hip. His finger pushes in the slightest bit further. When you feel the knuckle of his finger your whole body moves forward, away from the intrusion instinctively. 
“Hurts?” he asks, letting you pull away, leaving just the tip of his finger inside you. 
You shake your head. It’s not pain, it’s not something you’ve really felt before. “Just feels weird,” you answer, relaxing back towards him. 
“Wanna stop?”
“No,” you reply with another shake of your head. “Keep going, please,” you say when he makes no further moves. 
He pushes his little finger into you again, knuckle pushing past the band of tightness but this time you don’t pull away, you breath through the odd feeling. 
“How’s that?” he asks, stilling his finger inside you. 
“Feels… fine? Not bad, just… tight.”
“Yeah, s’really tight,” he breathes. You feel his finger wiggle the slightest bit and it makes your stomach clench from the strange sensation. 
“Wanna play with your clit for me? It’ll make it feel better.”
“What are you gonna do now?” you ask, wanting him to talk you through it some more. 
“Get you used to this, just go slow, in and out for now,” 
Gliding your fingers out from your cunt, wetness gathered between your fingers, you move to make circles on your clit, letting out a breath at the distracting pleasure.
Eddie starts slow movements of his finger, pulling it out before pushing it back in. With your fingers working your clit and the added pressure, you hum a quiet moan. 
“Feel good, baby? Like having my finger in your ass?”
“Like it, feels good so far,” you answer, picking up the speed on your clit. 
You get so lost in the buzzing throughout your body that Eddie’s words go in one ear and out the other as he guides you through the next step. You almost don’t notice him switching from his little finger to his middle, only when he gets to the knuckle again do you notice the extra stretch. Surprised, despite him telling you what he was doing, a gasp pulls from your lungs and your circles on your clit stutter. 
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just surprised me.” 
“Tell me if it starts to hurt, okay?”
You agree and Eddie starts a slow thrust in and out. The feeling is… interesting. It’s like pressure and quite different from when he’s in your pussy. 
When his knuckle slips in and out with ease, you feel yourself get excited.
“Ready for more,” you chirp quietly. 
“Yeah? Ready for two of my fingers?”
“Mhm, ready for ‘em, Eddie.” Your belly pools with heat just at the idea of two of his fingers inside of you. Your pace on your clit picks up again, having slowed down so you didn’t cum just yet.
He does it methodically, pulling his finger out until just the very tip is left inside of you. Then he adds his second, pushing inside of you so slowly that you nearly feel like pushing back into him— until he gets to the hilt of his knuckles again. 
Biting your lip, the stretch is close to being painful and you can’t help the way you tense. Eddie stills.
“My ambitious girl, thought she could take more already. S’hurting isn’t it?”
“No,” you lie unconvincingly. 
“No?”
“Just feels like a stretch,” you say, voice coming out squeaky. 
“Yeah? Wanna keep going?” 
You pause before nodding your head. “Wanna keep going,” you answer, continuing slow circles on your clit. 
His fingers prod deeper, knuckles stretching you out and adding pressure. When he finally has both fingers fully inside you, you let out a breath you had held in that clearly you nor Eddie realized you had held in.
“Baby, you gotta keep breathing. If it’s too much, tell me,” he admonishes gently, rubbing his opposite hand along your hip.
“It’s not too much… it’s just different. I want it so bad, Eddie.”
“I’m so fucking hard, you’re not making this easy for me,” he laughs softly.
“I do. I've been thinking about it for a long time. Really want it just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Sweet, shy girl, you can tell me anything. You know I’d never say no to you,” he says as he starts moving his fingers again. You make a conscious effort to breathe, taking deep inhales and extended exhales. 
When he eventually gets you used to his two fingers, the way he twists his wrist with each plunge has you humming in the intimate pleasure. More than anything, the thrill of it all is what has you enjoying this the most. It feels good so far but you need more.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah, pretty girl?”
“Can you…” you trail off, shyness creeping in.
“Can I?” he prompts, slowing his fingers.
“Can you… can you do that but…” you trail off again.
“Anything you want baby, just gotta ask,” he says softly, hand rubbing along your hip still, encouraging you to say what you want to say.
“I want you to do that and fuck me too,” you say in a quick breath.
“Yeah?”
“Please.”
Eddie laughs softly, his gentle massaging hand turns into a quick squeeze. “I can do that, want me to stuff both your hole, fill you right up?” he asks salaciously.
You pussy clenches at the thought and you need it more than anything.
“Please, Eddie.”
He sinks his fingers deep into your ass, making you moan, lighting every nerve up in your body. He shuffles behind you, free hand guiding your thighs wider to accommodate himself.
“Gonna make you feel so full, you want that don’t you? You been thinking about it?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Been thinking about it for so long, Eddie.”
“Gotta tell me these things, baby. Want to know every dirty thought of yours,” he grumbles in a deep baritone. His fingers twist with the movements of his wrist and you feel the prod of his cock as he drags it through your folds, catching your clit before lining himself up. 
“Please,” you whisper, pushing back into him. He lets out a low chuckle and he spares you your additional pleas that sit on your tongue as he pushes inside of you. 
The stretch of the head of his cock makes you whine and with the addition of his fingers in your ass it’s a fuller pleasure, one that gets more intense as he pushes deeper inside of you. 
“Eddie,” you whimper out, dropping your head to the pillow. 
“I know baby, s’a lot isn’t it?”
“Feels good Eddie,” you whine, arching your back deeper.
“Yeah? You like being filled up?”
“Love it, Eddie.” 
He draws his hips back and your stomach flips just at the thought of the pleasure to come. When he pushes back in, his fingers wiggle inside of you and your breath catches. He does it again and you swear your head goes fuzzy. 
He starts slow, his hips thrusting slow and lazily, barely grazing the backs of your thighs with each stroke. His fingers are what makes your breath stutter. He twists them in and out with the swirl of his wrist, and each time he sinks his cock inside of you, it adds unique pressure that has you reeling. Most of all, you like that it’s him doing it— you feel a profound intimacy having him like this that makes your chest squeeze alongside the burn in your lungs from having every breath stolen. 
“Want to add another finger,” he says and you let out a drawn out whimper. He coos, rubbing his free hand along the round expanse of your cheek and up to your waist. “I know you can take it, you’re doing so good f’me.”
“I can take it,” you nod into your pillow. 
He pulls back from you, enough to have just the tip of his cock inside, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from pushing back into him. That feeling vanishes when you hear the click of the bottle lid.
“Just gonna add more lube, okay? Make sure you’re nice and slick for me,” he says in a soothing cadence.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you say. He huffs a quiet laugh and you hear the wet sound of the lube in his hand. 
“Don’t gotta thank me, pretty girl. I’m having fun back here,” he chuckles and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him enjoying this. It’s a warm feeling— the shared pleasure, it’s hard to explain but just feels good being together like this. 
Pulling his fingers almost all the way out, you feel his other fingers glide around your entrance. When he shifts, you take a deep breath. 
“Good girl,” he praises. 
His free hand finds your lower back again and the stretch of a third finger starts. It’s a lot this time. A lot more than all the other stretches. 
“Just breathe, there you go. Doing so good,” he soothes in a low voice. Feeling a heightened sensitivity, you don’t miss the way his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. While the stretch tinges painful, you focus your attention towards that, feeling the way his excitement kicks up in his cock. 
The stretch doesn’t give way to pleasure, but the pleasure comes from somewhere else. Somewhere deep inside where you feel connected to Eddie. You’re his like this, physically but emotionally as well. All his. It makes you throb, and you reach between your legs chasing that feeling. 
“Fuck, there you go,” Eddie says, voice turning gravelly. His cock kicks up again and he lets himself push forward, sinking halfways inside of you. 
His fingers, just barely past the knuckle, shift inside of your tight hole and it has you lighting up in a searing pleasure— pain speckled but so rewarding when Eddie lets out a deep grunted moan. 
“Don’t think I’ll last, baby,” he says in a strangled breath. 
“Just fuck me, please. Need it so bad Eddie. Need you.”
He huffs a deep exhale. His hand on your lower back pushes you down into a deep arch and you meld to the way he needs you. His fingers shift again and it’s like fire in your veins. You rub quick circles against your clit and with a deep breath that tickles across your spine as Eddie lets it out, he thrusts. 
Guttural and from deep inside of you, you let out a pleasure ridden moaned cry. 
He pulls back and rolls his hips to yours. 
You’ve never felt so full in your life and you love it. It’s thrilling, it’s connecting, it’s masochistically beautiful, and it pools in your lower belly, making your stomach clench in rigid convulses. 
“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” Eddie groans. His breath is heavy and only adds to your pleasure. “You like both your holes being filled don’t you, can feel you squeezing me so tight,” he says in a deep grunted babble.
Your moans surpass their usual shy quietness, and the way your pitch raises is barely within your control. If you didn’t feel so conscious-shatteringly good, you might be embarrassed about how your voice echos off the walls. Normally Eddie’s the vocal one, and even with his drawn out groans, grunts, moans, and dirty talk that choruses alongside your own, you’re undeniably loud and it has Eddie’s thrusts stuttering already. 
He presses his fingers downwards inside of you and it’s like something shatters. You’re almost at your climax, but that small movement has his cock pressing perfectly against your g spot, and the stretch, the subtle pain, and the blatant pleasure of your fingers on your clit have your muscles seizing. He thrusts as deep as he can, moving quickly in and out to push you over the edge, and you erupt into shakes that tremor through your body. 
Your legs threaten to give out and your head turns foggy with buzzing luxury. His thrusts continue and even with your eyes squeezing shut, your vision gets darker until you see the sparkle of your pleasure peaking through like stars. 
Eddie spews moans and grunts after whimpers and curses, and pulling his fingers from your ass, he quickly grabs hold of your hips in a pinching grip. Staying planted in your cunt, he chases you downwards on the bed when your legs finally give out. He follows you, prolonging your high, and finding his own as he fucks you into the mattress. 
“Fucking Christ— fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips slapping heavily to your ass in quick thrusts. The bruising grip he has on you, and the urgency of his broken curses tell you he’s on the edge. He sinks his cock deeply inside of you, convulsing balls pressing against your cunt, and you feel the subtle warmth of his orgasm fill you up. Working himself through his high in shallow thrusts with stuttered grunts, the room is silent as you’re reduced to levelling breaths. You feel as light as air with the pleasure of electricity strumming through every inch of you. 
He’s pressed to your back, both of you completely collapsed to the mattress but you need to feel more of him. You shift, reaching backwards, and like he reads your mind he’s already searching for you with an open hand. 
He pulls out, rolling to the side and you follow, moving yourself to lay against his chest. His hand in yours, it’s sticky and wet and full of lube but you hold it tight, squeezing it within your own. He squeezes back. 
You hum with more satisfaction and good feelings inside your chest than you can communicate. Eddie brings his other hand to your back, rubbing it up and down, replying with his own hum. 
“That was really good,” you mumble, leaning your cheek to his sweat damp chest.
“So fucking good,” he nearly growls, the tone of his voice proving the assertion of his truth. 
You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. His heart hammers below your ear and the rise and fall of his chest soothes you, relaxes you. 
“My shy girl,” Eddie hums and from the lightness of his tone you know he’s smiling. Feeling brave from your post sex high, you smile to yourself.
“I can’t wait to feel your cock in my ass,” you say. Eddie lets out a deep laugh that vibrates in his chest. 
“Not so shy now, huh?” 
Cheeks burning with your smile, you shake your head.
“Want to do you too,” you say. You lose a bit of your nerve but the dramaticized gasp you get from Eddie, you know that he knows what you mean. 
“You want to do me too?” he laughs. 
“Mhm, want to fuck your ass,” you whisper, just barely mustering the courage to say it. You’re rewarded for saying it with smooth, soothing strokes up and down your back, and a chuckle from deep inside Eddie’s chest. 
“Who woulda thought my shy girl’d be so dirty,” he says, pulling you even tighter to him, hugging you extra close. 
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