My Favourite Thing About Tabletop RPGs Is Playing Characters. And I Mean Acting, As If You Are Really

This collage is based on my other friend's character for our D&D homebrew campaign.

Fish is a Drow Bard, he was teleported with Adran and Demash from Faerûn. He stepped at the path of the Kings and his destiny now is to become the King of the kings. He had to collect masks of the 10 greatest kings to obtain the power of all of them. Souls of the kings are caged in these masks and each of them has it's own power but the price of the ultimate power is high: Fish has to prove himself as a worthy one to be a king otherwise masks won't obey him.

🥵😊

Spartober day 12 Spanking (VerNero)

Author's Note: This was Really fun to write i am a sucker for Father/Son shenanigans, again as usual there is no outright smut just alot of kinky foreplay and dirty talk my usual jam of course. I hope you all enjoy today's prompt! Prompts by whatsanapocalae1 ( I use a combination of SparTober and Devil MayTober Prompts) 12: Spanking (VerNero) "Nero you foolish boy!" Vergil chided with seething rage his voice stern as he almost growled his anger was more like a strike to the heart than a booming bomb of ballistics…He shook his head gently, Nero had done something wrong during their hunt risking his life in the process and it aggrieved Vergil to his core the thought of losing another loved one was his biggest fear, he didn't want to lose his only son, especially not due to such recklessness.

Nero threw his arms up in defence as he let out an exasperated sigh “.What’s the matter, Vergil? Not impressed by your own son’s courage? Let me tell you something. A real devil hunter doesn’t back down from a fight, even if it means risking his life. If I have to die to protect others, then so be it!”

"NO!, you cant be this wreckless i wont allow it!, no son of mine is going on a suicidal mission just to prove his worth!" Vergil raised his voice slightly as he grabbed Nero by the shoulders bringing him close. his heart raced and his mind was clouded with rage and fear

"Don't you Dare throw your life away for some pathetic human, we are the lineage of Sparda, while we dont back down from fights there's bravery in knowing when to stop and what you did was stupid not brave…"

Rolling his eyes Nero shook his head as he continued to defend himself “Father, I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life, or how to fight demons. You’re just trying to protect me because you’re worried I might end up like you. But here’s the thing: I’m not you. I’m me, and I’m ready to prove it.”

"You dare accuse me of such foolishness, I know full well you and i are not alike, but for goodness sake why throw yourself so willingly into danger like that, you're worse than Dante…" Vergil sighed trying to compose himself as he sat down trying to save himself from his inner Demonic side .

"Come here…" he said, patting his lap gently.

Nero raised a brow in surprise..pleasant surprise as he spoke gently “I’m glad you’re not as controlling as I thought, Father. I’m sorry about yelling at you. But I can’t just sit back and let demons have their way with humanity, y’know? I have to fight for those who can’t defend themselves, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. No matter the cost” he sighed gently as he did as he was told and sat down on Vergil’s lap.

"My dear sweet thing…my darling boy…I know you wish to serve a great cause here with Dante and i..and while that is admirable..I can't allow you to keep putting yourself in harm's way, what if I lost you..hmm?, would you really want that? '' Vergil sighed softly, lifting Nero's chin gently, he knew of a way for Nero to make up for his transgressions..he knew full well what he had to do, what any father would do…

Nero’s eyes widened with shock as he realised what Vergil was about to do. They had agreed in the past that if Nero ever got out of line with Vergil they wouldn't brawl or spar the way Dante and Vergil did no..this was..special, they decided on a proper punishment fit for family…

“Father, no! I didn’t mean it, please! I can fight just as well as Dante. I know I can. Please don’t do this!”

He tried to get up, scrambling out of Vergil’s lap but to no avail, Vergil held him tight using his demonic strength to grip him by the wrist and keep him by his side.

"ah ah ah…Nero..we've discussed this, when you misbehave like this, I'll take care of you the way any father should..and spare me the waterworks…i know full well you'll learn from this..you always do in the end.." Vergil purred gently stroking Nero's cheek.

“Father please, you can’t do this! I can change, I swear! Just give me another chance!” Nero pleaded with a whimper.

Nero writhed and struggled against Vergil’s grip, desperate to escape his grasp. But it was futile. Vergil had far greater strength than him. He let out a defeated sigh, realising that he had to accept his fate.

"That's my boy, look at me" Vergil said as he lifted Nero's chin brushing his thumb against his bottom lip, he smirked softly at Nero's blush. letting out a content sigh he almost chuckled.

"You struggled earlier ..but you gave in, you always give in to me in the end..so eager to please…"

Nero looked away, hating himself for giving in to Vergil. He didn’t want to be like this, but he couldn’t deny it was true.

“I guess you’re right, Father…I always cave eventually. I don’t have to like it to admit that. But this time felt different, I’ll do my best to make you proud. No more misbehaviour. I promise.``

He returned his focus on Vergil. He noticed their positions weren’t helping his situation. It felt…too close. Too intimate.

Vergil hummed in approval "I accept that about you my boy, but we're finished yet, we still need to settle the matter…" he said as he noticed how close they were he enjoyed it as he grinned deviously.

"now…over my knees.." he said as he clicked his fingers gesturing for him to do as he was told.

Nero’s face turned a bright shade of red. He felt embarrassed but also…curious. He did what he had to do. He crawled over to Vergil and bent over just the way he was told. He tried to resist but he ended up obeying his father nonetheless.

Vergil smirked softly as he brushed his hand over Nero's backside with a sigh "now…the matter of how much you deserve for your Arrogance…"

Nero trembled. A nervous sweat formed on his forehead. He felt his cheeks flush with a burning heat that would put an inferno to shame. He wanted to look away, to escape the embarrassment…He couldn't help but feel…aroused. The way Vergil's hand caressed his body…the way it made him feel so vulnerable. A part of him wanted Vergil to do more. He knew this was wrong…but he was so weak to resistance.

"Nero..i asked you a question.." Vergil said sternly as he lifted his son's chin up to face him, his eyes cold but his gaze warm, a powerful contrast of how they both felt; this irresistible pull toward each other they had felt it years ago in the Qliphoth it was written that they'd give in.

Nero trembled from excitement and fear, his mind running rampant with lust and confusion.

“W-what? What do you mean, Father?" He knew full well what Vergil was implying, but he didn't dare tell him the truth.

"Don't play coy with me Boy, I asked you how much you deserve for your punishment, and your serious lack of judgement.." Vergil hissed almost swatting then and there but he resisted gripping Nero's thighs instead.

Nero flinched with nervous anticipation from Vergil's touch. Every single one of his nerve endings felt like they were on fire. He was so excited…and yet so nervous. He wanted Vergil to keep going…but he also knew he shouldn't…Nero could barely speak, his voice a soft whisper as a result.

"I deserve…at least…ten, Father…Nero let out a soft moan as he whispered the last word."

"Ah an even Ten hmm?, Twenty would too cruel of me wouldn't it my boy?" Vergil asked with a dark chuckle tracing his hands along the curve of Nero's backside. he was teasing of course both verbally and physically , he knew just how to get a rise out of him. even if it was wrong, even if this wasn't an ideal form of parenting, its what worked for them.

The caress of Vergil's hands sent a shiver down Nero's spine. He bit his lip in anticipation for whatever was coming next. He knew how his father's punishments went, and they were never pleasant by any means. Yet despite the pain, he couldn't help but feel pleasure from the way Vergil treated him. It confused him, but he couldn't deny the feelings anymore. Nero moaned softly again.

"Mm?, you are aware you aren't meant to be enjoying this….perhaps Twenty is good enough for you…" Vergil said coldly as he slid down Nero's jeans and proceeded to grip the tender flesh against his hands the sensation of Nero's bare backside made his head spin.

Nero let out a moan of delight. His heart was racing, but his body felt so relaxed…so hot and flushed. He felt so vulnerable as he stood there, naked in front of his father. But at the same time, he felt free. He couldn't help but close his eyes and let out a faint grin.

Vergil chided "Naughty Boy, you know better than that~" he purred low in his voice like velvet as it echoed in the halls of the Devil May Cry office. He swatted him gently as a warning showing he was just warming up.

Nero clenched his teeth to hold back any other moans. That one swat was already enough to send him over the edge. But Vergil's warm voice, and his caress sent his body into a frenzy. He struggled to stay quiet, but each swat sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him.

"Ah..it seems we need to start over, you got up to 5..and yet I didn't seem to hear any counting…" Vergil said as he lifted Nero's chin up to face him wrapping a hand around his son's throat as he spoke in a sultry tone "Just the moans of a needy ..dirty...boy…"

Nero whimpered as he felt Vergil's hand grip his neck. As much as he hated it, he loved it too. To be dominated by his father, to feel his fingers run over his body..to be called…dirty…Nero had never felt more alive, more vulnerable. He looked up at Vergil with burning passion in his eyes. He wanted…no, he needed more.

"Answer me when i speak to you Nero, i said…." he paused, gradually getting more aggressive with his tone, he swatted at him as he spoke one last time "Count, them, all, Now!" he said in between harsh blows to Nero's already pink tinted behind.

"Y-Yes..Father…" Nero took a deep breath. He could do this, no matter how hard it might be. He was going to count and he was going to do it right this time. "One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…" *Nero paused as he felt Vergil swat him. His vision blurred with each blow, but he forced himself to continue. "Nine…ten…eleven…twelve…thirteen…fourteen…" Nero struggled to keep his voice from breaking. The pain…the pleasure…it was both overwhelming and euphoric.

"Good boy, serves you right misbehaving like this not only putting your life at risk but submitting to me so easily, such eagerness, you might as well had shaken your hips and begged to take you right up against Nico's van , with the way you've been moaning for me~" he chided his voice low and velvety almost mesmerising to Nero's ears he continued.

"Keep going, you've reached Fifteen, you have another five more to go…"

Nero's face was bright pink from the embarrassment and pleasure. He could feel his insides being turned upside down from the way Vergil caressed him. Every swat sent shivers down his spine. He didn't care. He wanted more to happen. "Fifteen…sixteen…seventeen…eighteen…nineteen…twenty." He let out a low growl of satisfaction.

Vergil gave one last extra blow, nice and hard and swift so quick it had the same effect as a whip due to his demonic strength and speed. "That's it…there…I believe you've had enough, any further and you'd make a mess of yourself just from the mindless pleasure this brings you…but remember my boy this a punishment ….not a hand out…"

Nero let out a moan of pleasure as the last blow landed. He had never felt so alive…and so filled with desire. A part of him wished Vergil would hurt him more. He was so close…just one more hit…would've driven him over the edge. But he knew his father was right, any more and he would've given in completely. Still, he wanted more, so much more. He struggled to catch his breath as he glared up at his father.

Vergil raised a brow as he gripped Nero's jaw forcing him upward so that his son sat in his lap " You haven't learned a thing you wanton Minx…" he chuckled darkly. "Perhaps you need more than just my hand…"

Nero felt a rush of blood fill his face as it flushed bright red. He suddenly felt extremely embarrassed and vulnerable, but at the same time…a strange thrill ran through him. To be called…a wanton minx…by his father…Nero shuddered…was Vergil flirting with him?

"My dear boy, now's not the time for embarrassment, you wanted this , you suggested it as form of punishment, and here you are moaning and squirming for me…don't pretend i didn't notice just how excited this made you…i can feel it up against me…so eager..so vulnerable..so..delectable " he chuckled softly with a smirk.

Nero felt the blood running through his body heat up. His heart was beating out of his chest, he could feel his cheeks burn with excitement as Vergil spoke in such sultry tones. His eyes were glued to Vergil's. And yet…he hated it. He knew his father was just teasing him, and yet it had such a profound effect on him. It was humiliating…and yet, thrilling, too. Why did this feel so…good? It was wrong…

"You want more don't you?" Vergil asked with a purr, stroking his son's cheek delicately, his eyes locked on his enjoying the puppy eyed expression he received from him. "Use your words Nero, you're a big boy…say it…out loud. Say it loud and clear for me…tell me what you want…"

Nero hesitated, but before he knew it, the words were already spilling out of his mouth. He had to admit it. His father was right.

"Yes…Father…" It was such a simple word, but his voice sounded so lustful, so desperate. And he felt it at his core too. "I want…more…"

"No..No i want to hear you beg for it…this is your punishment, I should've done this sooner, teasing you with what you desire, your forbidden fruit just within arms reach but i won't let you have it, no…ill use to my advantage..make you behave and maybe…just maybe..if you're a good boy…." Vergil hummed in thought as he brought Nero close to his lip barely an inch between them as he paused.

"I'll give you a reward beyond your wildest dreams….".

Nero was already feeling weak in the knees as Vergil spoke. His voice was so close now…Nero felt his breath become heavy, but he needed that reward…He needed it desperately. With that last word from Vergil, Nero's heart was racing. He had to play his cards right. He couldn't mess up.

"Please Father…give it to me…I-I'll behave from now on. I'll…I'll be a good boy for..for you. I promise. But don't tease me anymore, this is torture…I can't hold back…p-please Father…"

Nero's whimpers brought joy to Vergil, like music to his ears a symphony of pleas that made him shiver, he knew his Son would behave in the end but he needed full confirmation before continuing. "Then say it, tell me you'll behave, tell me exactly what it is you'll refrain from ever doing again, the One thing that got you into this mess in the first place…"

Nero struggled to hold back. He didn't want to say it, but he knew he had to if he ever wanted Vergil to stop teasing him like this. He closed his eyes and inhaled. His mind raced as he looked back up at his father. He knew what had to come out of his mouth next, but he was too embarrassed to say it. But he had to, for both of their sakes. So he bit his tongue and let out the words, even though it was painful to speak them. He needed that reward.

"I…I won't be reckless ever again…"

Vergil smirked "Never ever?, not even if Dante tempts you?, or Nico or anyone for that matter..would you go against your fathers wishes again and earn the truly hard way not to cross me?…"

"Never again, Dad…I swear it…" Nero said with desperation in his voice. He felt so embarrassed to admit it like that, but he had to. He wanted Vergil to stop teasing him, to stop dangling the reward in front of him just out of reach.

"I won't disobey you…I won't go running off on my own. Not even for Dante or Nico…just for you…Father…"

"Good boy…you'll learn soon enough, now..get out of my sight before i change my mind and take you where you stand…" he paused blushing darkly seeing Nero in his lap obviously his words were in a metaphorical sense.

Nero felt his face turn bright red as he realised how close they were in all senses of the word. He couldn't meet his father's eyes, but he could feel Vergil's hot breath against his face. He needed to put some distance between the two of them, but he didn't want Vergil to stop. The punishment was over, but the teasing wasn't. The feeling made Nero feel…excited, anxious, nervous, and confused all at once. He needed…no, he wanted more.

Vergil raised a brow as he saw Nero closing in on him that mere ich of space now gone as he felt his son's soft plump lips up against his own, he froze with a shiver as he closed his eyes and kissed back deeply running his hands through Nero's hair.

Nero was overwhelmed as he felt Vergil's lips press against his own. His heart was pounding like never before, but despite the nerves, it felt…good. Vergil's touch was so soft…so delicate. And yet, so passionate. He felt like he was soaring through the clouds, free from any worries or inhibitions. He wanted this feeling to last forever. And yet…there was some regret in the back of his mind. He should not be doing this. But he couldn't help himself. He let out a soft murmur.

"Father…more…"

"Mmm patience…be patient my boy, all good comes to those who wait…." Vergil purred with a smirk as he let his tongue meet with Nero's in a lust filled frenzy as he slowly caressed his chest and rested his hands at his son's hips gripping them with authority.

Nero felt his body go limp as the two of them locked in a passionate kiss. His senses were sent flying as his head spun. The sound of Vergil's dark and sultry purrs drove him wild. He felt each inch of Vergil's body caress his as they held each other close. It felt as if time stood still. Nero's whole world was consumed by Vergil, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, pure smutty smut, mdni)

König carries me the whole way to my apartment, his hands gripping my ass and thigh, subconsciously kneading them, while my head snuggles in the crook of his neck, my mouth coasting over the soft skin. The fingers of my right hand are tangled in his hair, resting at the back of his head scratching ever so slightly, while the other one strokes down his stomach, the keys in it jingling with every movement.

His fingertips dig deeper into the swell of my booty. "Stop it, you're killing my restraint.", he grunts and I just giggle.

We're already at my apartment door and honestly, I'm just glad we didn't run into any neighbors. He takes the keys from my hands and unlocks it, carrying me inside. Unfortunately, he does not yet know about my cat.

"Uah, what the fuck is this?!", he curses, as the kitty rubs against his legs, so he almost stumbles over her. I can't hold back a laugh while he carefully tries to not step on the cat's tail.

I slide out of his hold onto the floor and pick Mimi up. The small little black furball purrs against my face, butting heads with me as she tries to get her daily dose of cuddles in.

"You wanna hold her for a bit?", I ask, not waiting for an answer, just shoving her against his chest and his big hands grab the tiny kitty. I giggle to myself, taking off my shoes and heading to the kitchenette to get something to drink because I'm parched from the concert. And very sweaty and sticky from all the dancing and moshing.

When I return, I see that the little minx already has him wrapped around her little paw. He doesn't even look at me, totally enraptured by the little creature. She's currently snuggling into the crook of his neck, purring against the tall man.

Cockblocked – or rather pussyblocked – by my own cat. But I know how to change that.

"So, uh, you wanna take a shower?", I ask, with a wry grin. I've never seen anybody set down a cat quicker, König bending down quite a bit, not to just drop her onto the floor. When he straightens back up, his gaze is on me, burning into me, stripping me down with his eyes.

"I would like that.", he says, his voice a bit deeper than it was before.

My mouth falls open a bit at his lustful stare because it just got harder to breathe, and I just head to the bathroom to my right.

I unceremoniously pull my shirt over my head and drop my skirt to the floor before I pull off my bra and tights. I don't think about it too much, but at the same time I feel how he's staring at me, his gaze burning into me. Turning around I catch him, the mouth agape. The way his eyes skim over my body like a light touch, dwelling longer on certain spots. Dropping from my collarbone to my tits, further down to my stomach and my still clothed booty. He stalks closer and I take a little step back, so I still can look up at him without straining my neck.

He gets rid of his t-shirt as well, and my mouth goes dry. The tattoos from his arms span over his strong shoulders, huge pecs, one side adorned with a little ring in his nipple, the broad chest... he is obviously in very good shape which isn't surprising given his occupation.

But he also has a little pudge sitting at his waist and a bit of tummy. My god.

I have to will my fingers to stay at my side because all I wanna do is touch everything, run my hands over his torso, squeeze, cuddle – lick.

His long hair falls down over his shoulders, some strands coming down over his face, softly flowing over the muscles, the pecs, when he moves.

Dark hair peppers his chest and my eyes follow the happy trail down into his jeans, so clearly tented by his erection. A slight smirk plays on his lips while he pulls the zipper down and takes off his pants, not wearing anything underneath, so his dick springs free, hanging heavy in front of him, as the denim falls onto the floor. A sparkle of jewelry catches my eye, and I realize he has a piercing on his tip. I feel red hot blush color my cheeks while I take off my panties, like this is all just normal and chill. And I’m totally normal and chill.

And I try not to fucking stare. I mean I already felt it pressing against me. And I know how big he is. So, of course, his dick is huge as well. But my god, I don't think he will fit.

Before I can spend any more of my thoughts on his size, I hop into the shower that's usually very spacious. For me at least. When König joins, it gets crowded. But I don't care.

Our bodies press together, when I reach for the knob, turning on the shower, and the warm spray rains down on us. His arms wrap around my waist, and I can feel his dick pressing into my belly, softly rutting into the soft pillow, doing so almost subconsciously, while he leans down to kiss me.

"Damn, I planned on eating you out in here.", he whispers against my lips. "But I don't think I can even kneel down."

"I'm sorry, the other shower guests were never as big as you are.", I joke lightly, ignoring how him talking about eating me out made me feel, but when I see the expression on his face, I regret bringing up former partners. I mean, I don't want to think about his former partners right now either. But it's true nonetheless, in every kind of sense.

"Hm, seems like I need to kidnap you into my shower sometime...", he mutters, his hands roaming my body, fingers digging into me.

I can't suppress the little shiver rolling down my spine. He feels it and acknowledges it with a little "We don't need to do anything, okay?", still making sure I am okay with all of this.

I get on my tiptoes, holding onto his shoulders, pressing my body up against his. "But I want to.", I whisper before my lips crash into his.

Our touches get heated, care thrown out the window, desperate kisses and tangled limbs. He spins me around, his hands grabbing me, stroking down my sides, until they land on my hips, tilting them back ever so slightly. He grinds against me and I answer his testing advances, moving with him.

My palms are placed flush against the shower tiles, his front against my back. His lap presses against the swell of my ass, the tip of his dick slipping in between my thighs. I press them together around him as he pulls back a bit, then snaps his hips forward again.

His hands cover mine as he starts to slowly fuck my thighs, his dick stroking over my puffy folds, the hard length pressing against my clit, the head nudging against it with every pass.

Fuck. If that's just a little taste of how he plans to fuck me...

"Oh, you're so fucking tiny, Kleine, you're gonna be so fucking tight around me.", he growls against my temple, the words dousing me in hot arousal.

"I don't know if you're gonna fit.", I whisper, moving my ass back into him again, panting.

He hums, a light confident sound. "I'm gonna make it fit, don't worry." His lips find the sensitive spot on my neck while his hips roll against me, and I can feel the wetness between my legs that has nothing to do with the water flowing over us.

I'm getting all worked up, and he is as well, but he stops, pulling back, his harsh breath hitting the shell of my ear. "Come on, need to get you into bed.”, he says with a hint of mischief in his voice that makes me giggle.

I wait for him to leave the shower and step out, getting two fresh towels for us.

We're drying ourselves off quickly, our horniness making us hurry along, and when our gazes meet, we can't help but laugh. I hang up my towel and his as well, hurrying out the bathroom in the direction of the bedroom. He follows me with long strides, actually catching up to me and giving my booty a little spank. I squeal and jump onto the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets, turning around to look at him. He sits down next to me, the mattress dipping down under his weight, and before he can say anything, I pipe up: "I'm not on the pill, and I uh- didn't know your size.", feeling a little shy all of a sudden.

"Don't worry." he pulls me into him for a moment and puts a little kiss to the top of my head, like he actually wants to kiss the worries away, before he goes to grab his wallet from his jeans, pulling a condom out of it. "I brought some, even if I felt presumptuous at the time of putting them in there." A little grin plays round the corners of his mouth.

He puts the foil square right next to the bottle of lube I moved from inside the drawer of the bedside table to the top of it. Setting it aside for later.

König smirks at me, the little grin getting wider, as I look up at him, kind of waiting what he’s gonna do. He grips my ankle, pulling me to the edge of the mattress again, which makes me yelp and giggle, relaxing into the sheets after he positioned me how he wants me.

He kneels down in front of the bed, still being at eyelevel with me, and kisses me. His hands grab my waist, his fingers trailing down, kneading the flesh of my hips, digging into the swell of my ass. I hold onto him, feeling his strong shoulders and the soft hair underneath my fingertips, stroking gently, while I answer his kiss. My tongue against his, tasting me.

His mouth wanders from mine over my cheek, down to my neck. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, that make me pant. Moving onto the collarbone, kissing and sucking, until I'm sure he left a hickey. Kissing further down, which has me arching me back, so my tits pop out and his tongue licks over my nipple, a loud moan leaves my throat, spurring him on, his mouth closing around the pebbled tip.

The licking and soft sucking almost distracts me from his fingers dropping down between my legs. The fingertips stroke over my pussy, wet and needy, and we groan in unison as he dips into me for the first time. I clench around his finger, my hips moving of their own volition, searching for more friction, fucking myself onto his hand. Desperate for more.

He softly bites my nipple, the stinging sensation pulling another hoarse moan from my lips, while he adds another finger. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him into me, while he caresses the other boob, his digits moving inside me. He moves down, kissing down, and I slowly fall back onto the bed. Kisses on my tummy, my hips, the soft mound over my pussy. He pulls his fingers out of me and pushes my legs back, still hovering over me. His gaze wanders from my sex to my face, our eyes meeting, and I almost feel like he’s waiting. I’m desperate, needy, his touches left me panting, and a little “please” from me is all it takes.

My knees are up against my chest, as he dives into my pussy, licking and sucking, hungrily lapping up the wetness. An “Oh fuck” drops from my lips, little mewls and moans following, and I squirm against his face.

I feel the light scratches from his stubble, the sensation of it against my sensitive skin sending shivers over my body, my hips violently jerking against his mouth. He licks up and down, nibbling, sucking, his hand spreading me for him, and I don’t think I’ve had anybody ever shamelessly eat me out like that. I can’t help it, but my fingers tangle in his hair again, the soft locks that I felt underneath my fingertips when I was sitting on his shoulders at the concert, now that his head is between my legs again for so vastly different reasons.

He doesn’t complain, humming ever so slightly, a satisfied little noise, when I pull at his roots, wanting more, wanting him even closer.

His hand wanders up my body until it reaches my chin, clasping around my neck. The breath halts in my throat, as his fingers squeeze lightly and his tongue dips into me. His thumb moves over my lips, pushing between my teeth. I lick and suck instinctively, like I would another part of him. He growls lightly at how I’m sucking his digit off, a sound that vibrates against my wetness, and I almost cum.

His mouth latches onto my clit, sucking hard, and with a loud moan my orgasm crashes over me. His fingers push into me again, the added sensation prolonging the waves of arousal washing over me. My thighs push together in an effort to make his teasing touches stop, but he doesn’t until it subsides, and I slump down.

He gets up from the floor and climbs onto the bed, positioning me in front of him, my legs spread over his thighs. I feel exposed, lying before him like that, my pussy on full display. He reaches for the condom and the lube, opening the foil packet with his teeth and rolling the rubber down on his length, the latex stretching to his size easily. I watch him, his dick resting against my stomach as he puts some lube on his hand. It still seems very big, to be honest. He sees the little skeptic expression on my face, and a cocky smirk stalks on his lips, while he spreads the lube on the condom and positions himself at my entrance.

“If it hurts, just tell me, okay?”, he says, the deep voice soft. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

I nod. “Yes.”, anticipating the feeling that floods me as soon as his dick presses into me.

Pushing into me, stretching me, while his thumb softly rubs my clit.

Rutting back and forth slowly, until the combined wetness from the lube and my pussy is coating his whole length.

He buries himself deep inside me, until he bottoms me out. I clench around his length, which makes his eyes roll back, a low grunt falling from his lips. A little choked sound escapes me. Feeling so full, I think I might burst.

Well, he said, he would make it fit.

He bends forward, fitting right between my thighs, placing a little kiss on my lips. He pulls back a bit, his gaze intently on my face, as he starts to fuck me, low and slow.

His long hair falls down like a cascade, the tips grazing over my neck and boobs, as he fucks me slowly, still letting me adjust to his length. My back arches and my lids get heavy from the intense pleasure of the deep pushes into me.

"Look at me, look at me." He grabs my cheeks with his hand. I will my eyes to stay open, focused on his face, our gazes interlocked, when he moves his hips oh so sweetly. It’s different from how I imagined it would be.

I can feel how he’s holding back. And I can see the hunger in his eyes as he straightens back up, his gaze moving down my body, taking in my titties that bounce slightly and the spot where we are connected.

But I also can feel his restraint slipping with every push of his dick into my wetness.

“Can I fuck you harder? Please.”, he begs, his voice dropping, his hands grabbing me again.

I reach out until my fingertips touch his hips, stroking over the soft skin. "Do it. I already told you, I don't break that easily.", I answer, whispering. And that’s all the encouragement he needs.

He starts to fuck me – really fuck me – rolling his hips into my lap. He pulls my legs back and up, so they rest against his shoulders. And who would have known? They really are very good legrests. I mean, my legs aren’t really resting on them, my feet dangling up over them, the size difference really obvious right now. But I don’t have any time to dwell on that thought, with the way he’s fucking me right now.

It’s even more intense like that, with my legs up in the air like that, and I can really feel his whole length inside me, reaching so fucking deep. Incoherent curses and a lot of “yes” is all I’m able to articulate.

His dick pistoning in and out of me, his large hands gripping my thighs, pulling me into him at his rhythm. The swell of my ass colliding with his thighs, the sound of skin slapping against skin, our intermingled moans and sighs.

This is much more how I thought it would be. Him throwing me around like he wants to, me getting my brains fucked out, taking everything he’s giving me.

My back arches of his own volition, my hands trying to hold onto to something, tangling in the sheets beneath me. He pushes into me hard and deep, and my thighs start to shake.

"Yes, fuck, come for me, Liebes.", he grunts, the words almost an order. One I cannot refuse. I cum on his dick, and he just keeps on fucking me, dragging it out, stroking over my clit with his thumb.

He doesn't even let my orgasm fully pass before he drops my legs and flips me onto my front. Pulling up my hips a bit, he fucks into me. My hands fist the sheets, holding onto them, not to get shoved forward, my face is pressed into the pillow, my moans getting swallowed up by it.

The sounds of his grunts and my moans intermingle, filling my little bedroom, the whole bed shaking, softly thudding against the wall.

The different angle is getting me worked up in no time, his lap colliding with my ass over and over again, skin slapping against skin. His fingers are digging into the supple flesh of my cheeks, holding onto them.

“You feel so good, fuck.”, he praises me, accompanied by a delicious little groan, and I can feel the words as a tingle up my spine.

His other hand is splayed out on my back, pressing me into the mattress, while he fucks me deep and fast, and I’m just so fucking full. I can feel the wetness drip out of me with every push inside, leaving a mess on his lap.

I turn my head to the side, trying to look at him, while he does me like this. I can see his long dark hair whipping back and forth, with every snap of his hips. I reach my hand back, looking to connect, and he takes it, interlocking his fingers with mine, while his dick is making me lose my mind again. The third orgasm hits me unexpectedly, and I clench around him, squeezing him tightly, his name as a soft sigh on my lips. “König-“

That seems to do it for him as well.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.", he curses, moaning deeply, the strokes getting sloppy, then he cums inside me, the condom as a barrier in between.

As soon as he catches himself, he pulls back out and turns me around again, snuggling himself on top of me. My breath goes raggedly, my chest expanding wide, I’m still reeling from the sex. But my god. The way he’s holding me now, looking at me. The softness in contrast to the hard fucking before. It’s almost too much.

His eyes are searching my face, a hint of worry in them. "Are you okay?", he asks softly, panting just a tiny bit, a slight red blush on his cheeks. I nod, still finding my ability to speak properly. "Good.", he says, seeming a little relieved, and he slumps down next to me, pulling me against his chest. We stay like that for a few moments, skin against skin, relishing the feeling of our embrace. Post-orgasm bliss is the stuff of sappy rom-coms, not of real life hook-ups. Or so I thought.

"Back in a second.", he mumbles against my temple and gets up. He straightens up, ridiculously tall next to my bed. He heads out the bedroom and my eyes follow the sway of his hips, his delicious booty on full display, his hair swaying with every step, reminding me of how it whipped back and forth while he was fucking me.

I hear the snap of rubber, fumbling with cabinet doors and the running of water.

He comes back, having gotten rid of the condom, a glass of water and a wet cloth in his hands. He sits beside me on the mattress. "Here, drink a little bit.", he says holding the glass up to my face. I sit up a little bit more, grab it and take a few gulps. I didn't even realise how dry my throat had gotten.

He strokes down my left leg, softly spreading me and then starts to clean me up with the cloth, the warm water washing away the lube and my arousal. We just sit there in the little silence that's only filled by our quiet breaths, my little sips of water and the noises of washcloth against skin. And for a moment I fear that I might get shy now, but the serious yet calm expression on his face, while he washes me, grounds me. Because he just acts like this is the most normal thing to do. When he's done and I've drank all of the water, he puts the glass and the washcloth on the little bedside table and climbs into bed again.

He scoops me up and pulls the blanket over us, covering our naked bodies. "You don't know what you were doing to me in that little outfit of yours.", he whispers into my hair, pressing soft kisses onto it.

I sigh for a moment, my eyes turning down. "Yeah, I really like it too.", I say, the smile on my face staying on despite the little pang I feel in my chest.

He scoots down, coming face to face with me. "Hm, what's going on?", he asks me, whispering softly.

"Just thank you for taking me to the concert today, okay? I don't think I would have had the courage to go alone, even less so wearing a skirt.", I answer timidly, not able to look into his eyes.

"You are very welcome, it was my pleasure.", he says, pressing a kiss to each of my cheeks and then one to my lips. It's soft and sweet, so different from all the other kisses we shared this evening. "Thank you as well, today was my first concert in at least 15 years or so. And it was a lot of fun."

"Then you're welcome as well. Old man.", I say, the teasing making me smile at him.

He chuckles. "You're a cute little thing, you know that?"

I shoot him a look, trying look mad and intimidating, but the amused expression on his face is telling me that I’m not succeeding at that. "I'm neither cute nor little."

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.", he teases me back, then he gets serious again. "Do you want me to go?", he asks, searching my eyes.

I shake my head, my hands roaming his body, softly stroking and squeezing. "No, you can stay the night.", I say lightly. "If you want to."

"Good, cause I do.", he answers, pulling me into him, squeezing me against his broad chest, his big arm lying on my back, the fingers softly digging into my ass. My cheek snuggles against his pec, while I play with the strands of his hair, feeling how I get calmer and sleepier in his embrace.

"Quick question.", he pipes up and the mischief in his voice lets me perk up. "Have you ever been woken up by getting eaten out?"

I give him the full sideeye while I slowly shake my head. The devilish grin turning up his mouth makes him look like he's already thinking about it and in his mind, it is fucking delicious.

"Would you like to try it out?"

The expression on my face doesn't change as I try to mask the wave of arousal washing over me from those words alone. Enticing and just a little bit kinky, and nobody ever offered to do that to me before. "Yes.", I answer, not able to suppress the little breathiness in my voice.

He chuckles, pressing another kiss to my lips, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. “Then I guess, you’ll have to go to sleep soon…”

~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

send help, i'm melted on the floor now 🫠

My D&D character for my friend's first mini-campaign.

Khalte is a High Elf necromancer, ~150 years old. She was raised in a temple of Vel-shah-roon and has been studying necromancy since she was a teen (judging by Elven standards).

F'ck you, Tumblr. You made me recreate my acc just to have an opportunity to communicate with people... F'ck you for ghosting my previous acc 🤬

Bratz is one of the best shows ever 💪

Omg 🥵❤️‍🔥

Two Ghosts One Stone [Ghost x Reader x Ghost]

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration, Binding/Restraining, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Stomach Bulging, Manhandling, Dirty Talk, Name Calling, Degradation (Slut-Shaming), Fem! Reader, Mentioned/Implied Aftercare, The Masks Stay On, etc.

Simon watched, his eyes dark and intentions darker, his pants drawn down his thighs. Behind you, Ghost gripped you by your hips, pulled you back so you could feel something prodding you. You gasped.

“Come on,” said Simon, a drawl in his voice; haste. “Hurry up and take her already – we ain’t got all night.” And, the demand hanging in the air, both Ghosts laughed, a joke between the two of them – one you understood all too well. As if Simon’s impatience rubbed off on him, Ghost’s fingers dug into the skin of your sides, making you wince. And, before you could breathe, you felt him – his girth, his weight – his tip had been at your centre, and now, he was halfway inside. You yelped.

“God !” he strained. You felt his stomach to your back – he was leaning against you, as if for support. His breathing, heavy, gave the illusion of exhaustion; of relent. “Fuck, you’re tight, Princess,” he rasped. Leaning forward now, his lips came to your ear. Even through the mask, you could feel his breath, scorching, against your shell.

“Let’s see how loose I can get you by the end of the night.”

Now, rubbing circles into your hips, he erected to his full height, his front no longer to your back, and pulled out. Time was but a pinprick between then and now as he slammed himself inside you – all of him, all at once. And, just as before, you let out a noise of surprise, though this one was subdued – steeped in the beginnings of euphoria. And, just as before, he was heavy. Thick and veiny, you could feel the veins along his cock, bulging and wide as he took you, his breath shuttering, his head thrown back as he let out a yell, short and sweet, a shriek.

And Simon watched. Watched you grip the bed sheets, trying to catch your breath; watched as your head rose to face him, lips parted. The image of his cum drooling from your mouth, you thoroughly used and enjoyed flashed in his mind. He pumped himself once. Twice. He’d coated himself in saliva; a makeshift solution to his aching problem.

His chest fluttered with every breath, chest heaving as he watched you, pumping himself faster once Ghost took to a rhythm. Ghost wouldn’t let you fall far; his grip on your hips kept you glued to him, his praises of “Good girl, keep taking me,” enough motivation to at least try and remain at your spot on the bed. And to send electric euphoria between your legs. You whined, and Simon, still at the wall, gave a minute gasp.

To begin with, with his founding strokes, Ghost made this task somewhat possible, the force of his hips against yours enough to knock you forward, his strength pulling you back. But, as the seconds turned into minutes and Ghost began to lose himself, his thrusts became…stronger. Insatiable.

“That’s it,” he told you through breathless praises, the feeling of his thighs against your backside becoming more frequent, bruising. “Such a good girl–” He pulled out, almost all the way. You scarcely had the time to scream as he slammed himself – all of himself – back inside, sending a stab of pain through your middle. You choked, your breath catching in your throat, and fell forward, your chest to the bed sheets, Ghost’s grip no longer able to hold you. He was gone. Truly and utterly. You could tell in the way he moaned, low and loud and filling the air with dark electricity – a call to arms. He didn’t even reassure you as you tried to regain your breath, tears burning your throat, warned off by the building euphoria in your centre.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Ghost – be gentle,” came Simon, whose voice, gruff as usual, was sharp with territory. His breathing, though hitched as his hand stroked himself, particularly close to his agitated, reddening, weeping tip. Pre-cum beaded from his slit, collecting on his palm as he slid it down his shaft.

“There’ll be nothin’ left of her the way you’re pummelin’ her.”

Even though he was behind you, you could feel Ghost’s smile beneath his mask, felt a weighted darkness pressing on you.

“That’s the goal.” He pulled out all the way and tore his way back inside. You shrieked, moaned, your mouth pressed to the sheets, muffled by the mattress. As little as you wanted to admit it, you wanted them to destroy you, to fill you so utterly and entirely that nothing else existed except them. And it seemed they wanted that, too. Especially with the blackened gleam in Simon’s eye as he picked up the pace, fisting himself with an almost voracious sentiment, his eyes narrowing as he refrained from succumbing to the tidal euphoria building within.

You felt that the ecstasy building between your legs mirrored Simon’s, exceptionally so when Ghost, still slamming into you, forcing you deeper and deeper into the pillows, ceased, pulled you close to him by your hips, and continued, hitting a hidden, wanton angle. Electricity spasmed through you, and you gasped, letting out a breathy moan. Ghost laughed, sly and slender, his hand sliding up your thighs, straying between your legs, drawing ornate patterns into your skin. You shivered, the feeling of his incongruously gentle touch with his harsh, biting thrusts almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself clenching down on him, lips mouthing his cock as if choking on his girth.

His hand, large, rough, warm, slid from between your legs. His palm rested on your stomach while he rolled slow circles against your clit. The static building in your core spasmed, a phantom tendril lashing out. By reflex, your legs tried to close, but Ghost was having none of it. His other hand gripped your thigh, hooked around it and forced it apart. You wailed, unable to shield yourself from his attack. Not like you actually wanted to.

“Oh no, Princess,” Ghost said, his voice a low purr. Simon’s breath quickened, the slick sounds of his solo excursion the vocals to the symphony of ghost ploughing into you. “I want to see all of you,”

 And see you, he did. In fact, he watched, observed you – like an experiment. Not that you could see it, rather felt its palpable presence – Ghost’s stare was sharp, razor. He took in the red, sodden, aching mess you’d become, friction marks from where his thighs met yours in a slapping, thumping manner, crescents where his nails had dug into your skin and kept you tethered to him, to the outcome he was forcing you closer and closer to. You could tell you were soaked; the brief chill hitting your backside and thighs whenever Ghost pulled away gave you a horrendously honest look at how desperate you were for the two men. That, and the collation of fluids collecting and rolling down from between your thighs.

“‘F only you could see her, SImon,” came Ghost. His breath shuttered, wavered as he worked to keep his pace, his skin slapping against yours, his hand becoming drenched between your thighs. “If only you could feel her,” he pressed his palm into the bottom of your stomach. And you wailed. Of course, you’d felt Ghost’s dick weighted inside you, but to have you feel him more, pressing your stomach so you could feel his cock against your skin, felt unreal.

“Bet you couldn’t fill her like this.”

Had your euphoria not built to a point where everything was muffled to you, you may have seen the room darken, the atmosphere grow heavy. But alas, you were past the point of oblivion, innocent to the pointed, glaring, fiery stare Simon gave Ghost, and the immediate ceasing of his strokes. Even Ghost seemed to slow, though kept pumping into you, rubbing you, agonising you.

You didn’t hear Simon’s footsteps, the heft of his boots against the floor as he approached the end of the bed, and, with his free hand, grabbed you by your hair. He yanked your head up to meet his, and while you gasped, a shriek died in your throat as Simon shoved his cock into it, stifling you, choking you. You let out a yelp, tried to retract, but Ghost’s frame behind you and Simon’s painful grip on your follicles made such a manoeuvre an impossibility.

“Suck it up, cum slut,” said Simon. Now, looking up at him through bleary eyes, you saw the steel in his stare. He didn’t let you accustom yourself to his intrusion before he pulled out and slipped back in, protruding deeper into your mouth, the taste of salt smattered against your tongue.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want Ghosty here to get upset,” came a voice from behind. You almost turned around, flashed a pleading look to him, asked him if he were intentionally trying to invoke Simon’s wrath on your behalf. But an ache formed in your jaw as Simon used you as he had his hand prior. And, just like Ghost, he was anything but gentle.

The longer he had you wrapped around his shaft, the more potent the taste and viscosity of a foreign substance coated the insides of your mouth, painted it white, drooled and dripped down your chin like saliva. And all the while, you couldn’t stifle or help the moans Ghost drew from you, the vibrations of which seemed to reach Simon as his mouth dropped open he threw his head back. “Fuck,” he breathed, his Adam’s apple thick and protruding just beneath the lip of his mask. Ghost smiled, lips drawn thin beneath his mask. “Looks like Simon’s close,” he said. You could say nothing in response, to which Ghost gave a short, stark laugh – a scoff. A hand reached up to your jaw, gripped you by the cheeks. And squeezed. You could feel Simon’s cock slick against your gums. And so could he.

Before you could accustomed yourself to this feeling, Ghost’s crushing grip about your cheeks, Simon’s pounding, unrelenting rhythm, Simon twitched in your mouth and, with a lasting, gruff cry, became blinded by ecstasy. The after-effects of which you felt fill and drip from your mouth and down your throat.

As if like clockwork, Ghost, his breathing remaining laboured, began to feel loose behind you. His killing pace remained but there was a softness to it there had not been before – a bluntness. With Simon panting above you, his release dripping down your throat, making your chest sticky, and Ghost’s increasingly rhythmless strokes bringing you both closer and closer to your end, your body scorched, ached where you had been used – where you were being used. You’d have cried for a moment’s respite had it not been for how Ghost’s hand slipped to your breasts, held them, squeezed them to his palms. The way he held you had stray electricity shock between your legs, tipped you ever closer to the edge.

“Go on, Princess,” Ghost rasped. His voice was deeper now, serrated – as if his throat was seared with…something. “Cum for me,”

Not that you’d been holding out for Ghost, but something about the authority in his voice, the fact that you had warranted his permission, sent you spiralling. Still gasping around Simon’s girth, he finally looked down at you, and, instead of pulling out, gripped you by the hair again.

“I wanna feel your screams, angel,” he said, eyes half-lidded yet still piercing. And you couldn’t hold it anymore.

White-hot euphoria took your senses, had you hostage to the whims of the two men before and behind you. You clenched, gripped Ghost, to which he made a strangled noise that not even his mask could contain, filling the dense, moist air with a primal growl. You practically shrieked, the reverberations of your staining voice stimulating his softening, sensitive appendage. He grunted, glowered, sucked breath in between gritted teeth.

“God, Darlin’ – fuck – you’re so tight,” panted Ghost, his strokes becoming slower, almost stilled by the force with which you held him. 

The fireworks within evolved, dimming with each wave that flowed from your core outwards, leaving you limp. Simon took the liberty of removing himself from your mouth, stroked your bottom, puffed lip with his thumb. You scarcely made out his praise, him calling you his “Good girl,” between Ghost’s panting, his low moaning, and the static in your head.

“(Y/N) – I-I’m–”

Ghost didn’t have chance to finish his sentence for his climax tearing through him, reaching into his soul and withdrawing from him a deep, guttural moan, breathy yet weighted at its centre. You felt warmth filling you from within, felt Ghost still, his pounding no longer stoking your fire, letting you ride the wave with your cheek in Simon’s hand, eyes glazed and lips parted as you tried to regain your breath.

A stillness settled, rearing its head.

At some interval of this quietude, Ghost pulled out, the only indication being the sound of liquid friction and his weight falling back onto the pillows behind. You’d felt little of this – merely a blunted retraction, your lower half growing numb with every second that passed.

“Almost milked me dry,” said Ghost, and while there was a distinguishable whine to his tone, he wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah,” came Simon, taking a step towards the bed. “Thought you wouldn’t be able to hack it, Love.”

You did little in reply save for a smile, reserved and quiet, but a response all the same.

You hadn’t realised yet, but your body was much weaker than before, being that Ghost had thoroughly enjoyed and used you; Simon, too. But somehow, you knew that wouldn’t let you off the hook, warrant an ‘early night’. No, not if the feeling of Ghost all but sneaking up on you from behind, his arms enclosing your waist and pulling you into his chest was anything to go by.

You whined. Ghost growled, gripped you by your jaw and forced your chin to point heavenward, making swallowing very difficult and making some form of eye contact with him facile.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he drawled. “We’re not done with you yet,”

“He’s right,” Simon said. The same Simon whose belt now lay wrapped around his wrist like a serpent, one knee on the mattress, his chest puffed with newfound vigour. “He might’ve had his fill of you,” his eyes flickered down to your stomach, a bump having formed there, the culmination of Ghost’s thick load still oozing from between your legs. “We can’t stop ‘til I’ve had you, too.”

Everything happened so fast it may as well have been a technicolour show of memories, time skips and jumps, for during the scuffle (which was really just Ghost forcing your wrists together, Simon tying them, and you whining when Simon forced your legs apart, exposing your already sensitive parts to more punishment) you were bound, restrained and defenceless.

Ghost had finished what Simon had started, prying and keeping your legs apart by digging his ankles between yours, spreading your legs as far as you could allow. Simon slid your bound wrists over the back of his neck, keeping your front open. The look he gave you – veiled almost entirely by his mask – was visible in his eyes; a rabid determination seen only in those with nothing left to lose.

Between the numbness between your thighs and the newfound proofing feeling at your back, Simon edged closer, held himself in his hand, stroked once. He almost twitched, his eyes narrowing.

“Now, Angel,” he said. He leaned closer, his nose an inch from yours. You felt his tip against your lips. “I don’t wanna what any complainin’ or cryin’ unless it’s because your pathetic little cunt can’t take any more of me,” a hand came to your throat, stroked the ridges – your Eve’s apple – still stretched by Ghost’s grip.

You said nothing, but a look of hazy resolve in your eyes told Simon all he needed to hear. He looked past you, to the man behind you, who, when Simon nodded, released your jaw. You almost wanted to celebrate. In unison, they lifted you, Ghost by your waist and Simon by your thighs. The next thing you knew, you were full – painfully so – pressed between two walls of men.

You let out a winded cry, jostled between the idea of leaning against Ghost or taking to Simon’s chest for comfort. The former made the decision for you, taking his hands from your thighs and bringing them to your waist. He shushed you, gently, voice free from condescension and irritation. It was an imitation of comfort, a gesture.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he whispered in your ear. He massaged slow, calm circles into your sides, his hands coming to rest upon your stomach. “It’s alright, breathe for me – there’s a good girl.”

Simon’s expression seemed to mirror Ghost’s, for a softness possessed his gaze, one which encouraged a hand to trail to your cheek, holding it. He wiped a lone tear. “I know, Sweetheart,” he said. “It won’t hurt for much longer, promise.”

Perhaps their altruism was only a show. Perhaps they were true in their comforts, purveyors of their reassurances, for the pain did pass in the minute that followed. And, when you nodded, told them they could continue, the air changed.

Simon and Ghost brought you up and slammed you back down on their lengths, following a rhythm to which, accustomed now, but no longer numb, you tried desperately not to get lost in. Not again.

The embers of your last orgasm ebbed within as the two took you, Ghost’s hands resting on your waist, feeling him and Simon inside you, your stomach swollen. You hadn’t even noticed until you felt Ghost give a short laugh in your ear, and spoke over you.

“God, Simon – have you felt her ?” he said. Simon, looking to where Ghost’s gaze rested, gave a groan. He could see perfectly well what Ghost was talking about; having two men inside you at the same time, two particularly well-endowed men, no less, was bound to have some physical effects on your body, but Simon hadn’t anticipated them to be so immediate, rather assuming them to be an aching between your legs the next day or the inability to walk properly.

You couldn’t help but pay attention to their conversation, one which, while about you, did not include you. Or so you thought.

Simon’s hand came to lay upon your front, and, while he ploughed into you, he felt himself inside you. “God, (Y/N) – ‘m surprised you ain’t burstin’ from the seams,” he said, a deep drawl in his voice. You wanted to retaliate, say that you were, but the vigour with which he slammed you onto him now knocked the air out of you, made arguing pointless. And, as if in competition, Ghost followed suit.

“Seein’ as you’re so eager to get ahead,” said Ghost. “How’s about we see who can ruin her first.”

It wasn’t a proposition.

Simon smiled.

He pulled out, entirely, and threw himself back in. You let out a moan, something between a scream and a whimper. Whatever hopes you’d had of holding out for the whole night were dashed in that instant. 

And you couldn’t be happier.

The coil in your centre tightened, the telltale sign that you wouldn’t last another ten minutes if you were lucky. And, given your track record of the evening, you weren’t going to place any bets.

Simon and Ghost’s breathing was deep, heaving, and you had no doubt the masks and the physical excursion did little to help things. Though, the sounds which poured from them – micro-whimpers and whispered moans – existing within the crevices of these pants were too enticing for you to care.

Simon’s hands came to rest on your thighs, where he squeezed your skin, grabbed any conjuration of muscle, meat and fat he could, and uttered more praise to you. “My girl,” he said. “You’ll always be my girl – no one else’s,”

Ghost did nothing to dispute Simon, but the squeeze to your sides suggested he wasn’t agreeing. Or going down without a fight.

A mere ten minutes into this fresh Hell and you already could feel yourself going numb again, the electricity at your centre having grown, your nerves burning with a need for release. You’d have conjured the words if you’d known them, but you feared your mind had been turned to jelly under the competition of the two military men.

You could tell they were close to finishing, what with their breathing growing deeper and more uneven by the second, their thrusts becoming uncoordinated, desperate, seeking any and all solace they could glean from burying themselves within you. And, of course, the praises.

“Doin’ so well, Angel,” one would rasp, while the other would show you their gratitude, moulding your breast in his hand and sucking his mark into your throat.

There came a point where you weren’t even sure you were human anymore, with you still remaining conscious yet limp amidst this exchange. Save for the need to let go, to have the energy inside you now burst free, you felt a mere toy to these men. And you loved every second of it.

“I c-can’t–” you managed to choke out. Simon and Ghost kept at their attack, their pursuit of that which they coveted most; your pleasure. The room, heavy with everything you’d done, was filled corner to corner with your gasping moans, Simon’s guttural growls and Ghost’s grunting. All the orchestra of a dream come true.

“Cum for me, Princess,” heaved Simon. A desperation lay in his voice – one which sought the same release as you, and that only through your climax could he achieve his.

“Yeah, Darlin’,” came Ghost, thick and hot behind you. “Show us how we make you feel.”

And that was the last straw.

You moaned, long and hard, and you came. Your body scorched with fire and electricity, a storm you could hardly keep to yourself as you threw your head back against Ghost’s shoulder, your stomach arching into Simon’s. Your coil snapped, combusted, and you were left a heaving, panting, near-crying mess.

You gripped Simon’s shoulders while Ghost’s front pressed to your back. Within quick succession, one finished after the other, their growled moans carrying through the room and into your mind as, still impaled and overcome with a euphoric exhaustion, you rested against the two men. 

You knew they’d take care of you – run you a bath and tend to your every need in the minutes following. But right now, you just wanted to be here with them, feeling their hearts thunder like drums against your skin.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

Taglist: @montenegroisr @projectdreamwalker @animarix @konigsblog @sweetirilly @crystaljade22 [will not be adding ageless blogs]

My favourite characters list 🗒✏️

♡ Jason Todd ("Batman" comics, the 2nd Robin)

♡ König ("Call of Duty")

♡ Simon "Ghost" Riley ("Call of Duty")

♡ Gabriel Reyes, "Reaper" ("Overwatch")

From this point I can say that I have a thing for big masked men 👀

♡ Virgil ("Devil May Cry")

♡ Shimada Hanzo ("Overwatch")

♡ Spok ("Star Trek TOS")

♡ Geralt of Rivia ("The Witcher" books)

I like restrained and motivated characters at some point...

♡ James Tiberius Kirk ("Star Trek TOS")

♡ Jesse Mccree ("Overwatch")

♡ John "Soap" MacTavish ("Call of Duty")

♡ Dante ("Devil May Cry")

...But I like chatty and easy-going characters ad well!

I did some research on my favourite characters' dynamics a while ago and... Nothing actually changed since then. For me, every character from my list is charismatic but in completely different ways and this is awesome 🥰

*dies from getting way too hrny* 😳🔥😵

F'cking he'll 🥵❤️‍🔥🔥

sleepy ghost