Summary: After a nice meal, you start to feel weird. Did you eat something funny? It turns out everyone is feeling the same, and there's only one thing to do about it. Read content warnings please!
CW: Lots of nasty sex. Afab reader, G/N language. Aphrodisiacs. TONS of zosan gay shit (like 50% of this fic). Could be considered dubcon because the aphrodisiacs are strong and reader keeps losing touch with reality, but it is consensual >_> Voyerusim, dacryphilia, begging, dry humping, edging, masturbation, "good boy," riding, prone bone, you name it.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS (VERY) NSFW CONTENT.
Something was in the water at the new island the Sunny anchored on. Or was it in the wine? The bread? The butter? You couldn’t remember what you ate. Your memory of the night was blurred—scattered scenes played through your mind the next day. Your recollection was… messy and nonsensical. You tried to recount the night.
In the early hours of the night in question, Sanji went into the island’s town to get supplies and ingredients for dinner. It was a nice day full of free time, clear skies with a slight breeze.
Nami and Robin went shopping and they wouldn’t be back on the ship in time for dinner. Brook, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky went off and did god knows what. Similarly, they wouldn’t be back in time for the evening meal. Sanji promised to make enough so they could have leftovers later.
When everyone went on their separate outings, that left you, Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji on the ship.
It was a small, simple, and delicious dinner that night. An intimate setting with just you four, a nice opportunity to hang out with part of the East Blue crew. You were soaking in some modicum of silence and peace (whenever Luffy allowed it) on the mostly empty ship.
Aside from Luffy’s chomping and smacking noises while he ate, dinner was relatively silent. Sanji and Zoro weren’t butting heads for once, either. You sat at the table, talked sparingly, and drank some of the wine that Sanji bought in town.
When dinner was over, you helped Sanji wash up (like usual), then you sat at the dinner table and did some reading.
An hour or so passed. You read your book while Sanji prepped food and cleaned the kitchen a few feet away. Gradually, the room got warmer. You opened a window, letting in some of the cool evening air, propped a door open, and sat back down again.
After a few minutes, you noticed that you felt a bit ill. Lightly perspiring, you almost shivered—your limbs felt heavy, you felt light-headed. You tried to reason it away. Did you have too much wine?
No, you didn’t. You stood up, and as you rose to your feet you realized that you felt like you were going to pass out. At the same time, your body started to buzz. You had never felt like this before. Something was seriously off.
Sanji was still in the kitchen cleaning up, and you staggered in his direction, stopping at the sink to splash some water on your face. The cold water felt great on your hot cheeks, and you could have sworn you saw steam rise up from where the cool droplets met your skin.
“My love, are you alright?” Sanji’s sweet voice shocked you out of your feverish stupor. You had almost forgotten he was there. When you turned to face him, your body pulsed and heat tingled outwards from between your legs, radiating to your whole body. He had never looked so good before.
The blonde’s eyes widened in shock—your pupils were dilated, your breathing was shallow and quick, and your face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brought a hand to your forehead and confirmed that you had a fever. “Are you sick, dearest? You don’t look well.”
When his skin touched yours, your breath hitched. “Sanji, I don’t feel too good.”
“Do you need to go lay down? I’ll get Chopper to come take your temperature and give you something to help you feel better, okay?”
You didn’t know it, but Sanji was starting to feel ill, too. He was sweating just barely and had, up until that point, been blaming it on the fact that he just cooked and cleaned and was a bit exhausted. But what was more concerning to him was that in your feverish state you looked even more beautiful than usual—no, beautiful wasn’t the right word. In his mind he remarked that you looked fucking hot. Stunning. Sexy, even.
He could rip your clothes off here and now and ravage you, had you been up for it. But that sentiment wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, rather, it was that you were evidently sick, and he was starting to feel a bit woozy himself.
Maybe the food had turned, and he didn’t realize it, so you were both suffering from food poisoning. But that would have been very unlike him to not pick up on the food tasting rotten. It must have been something else. Did you both pick up some virus from the last island you were on? Like Nami on Little Garden that one time?
A soft whine slipped out of your lips. The noise made his stomach flip. You sounded like you were in pain but… you also sounded a bit erotic to him. In this state, his mind raced. Is that what you would sound like in bed? Whining like that?
Sanji mentally berated himself more than ever before, letting self-disgust wash over for a moment before he shook it off. When he got back to his senses (he had been staring at you for only a couple of seconds), he started to guide you to your cabin for some rest. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you to bed.”
But no matter how many internal curses he threw at himself, he felt a tent forming in his pants. Something weird was happening.
He balked at the idea that seeing you in your current state was getting him so flustered. You were ill, after all. What sort of gentleman would he be right now, if he was thirsting over you while you had a dangerously high fever and were obviously in pain?
As he tried to shrug off how odd he was starting to feel, the blonde chef guided you down the hallway and towards your room. You walked behind him and your vision started to get splotchy. With every degree your fever worsened, you felt something get more intense—was this feeling arousal? At a time like this?
Sure enough, heat bloomed between your legs; small zaps of pleasure radiated outwards with each step. The arousal-sickness combination was disorienting and concerning.
And not only were you just aroused, but it was coupled with wild sensitivity—as you moved, the fabric of your pants brushed down there, sending an electric shock up your spine as the tingling sensation intensified. Were you hallucinating, or was wetness seeping out of your core, saturating your panties?
The walk down the hallway felt like years.
By the time you were almost to your bed, you were soaking wet from nothing other than walking. You tried to squeeze your legs together. Was there a stain on your pants from how unreasonably wet you were? Should you hide it? The fabric of your pants was rubbing you just right, and, in the moment you sat on the (conveniently large) bed, you convulsed in pleasure. Undeniably, you moaned. A quiet one, but a moan, no less.
You sat there for a few seconds, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as you positively buzzed in pleasure. You didn’t know what was happening, and you were unaware that you were slowly rubbing your thighs together, drawing out more tingles of pleasure. Was that an orgasm?
Sanji’s mind was racing, and he was hyperaware of everything—every shallow breath and flutter of your eyes was making his heart patter and the tent in his pants grow. He was fully erect now, and his mind was so scrambled that he didn’t even think of hiding it. He almost couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
It was from this point on that you started to question if any of this was real or if you were just having a fever dream.
Sanji stood over you, watching in what could be called a mixture of concern and rabid desire. Your eyes opened finally, and it felt like you had tunnel vision. You noticed it then—his erection, hard and big. There was a visible stain on his bulge where precum pooled into the fabric. His cock twitched when he realized your eyes were focused on it.
“A-are you okay?” Sanji asked. He didn’t know what to say. He needed to drag himself away to a bathroom and deal with this.
His words got caught in his throat as your body literally worked against your own whims. Your fingers moved like they were being controlled by a puppeteer—you watched them in third person as they trailed down your abdomen and came to rest over your throbbing core.
Looking up at him, you gave yourself a squeeze through your pants. Some erotic sound tumbled from your lips. Your fingers started to circle over the fabric of your pants where your clit must have been, and you spread your thighs a bit. You couldn’t control yourself.
“Help, Sanji,” you whispered, mouth dry. “Don’t know what’s happening. Can’t stop.” Your fingers moved faster, building a crescendo of pleasure that would crash onto you soon. You felt like you were going crazy with need. No longer focused on the fever wracking your body, your mind knew only one thing: you needed pleasure.
If you didn’t get more soon, you were worried you’d pass out. Or something would happen. Would you go crazy?
“H-help?” Sanji’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”
“Touch me,” you whimpered, fingers moving faster now. His jaw dropped.
Luffy suddenly staggered to the door and leaned on the frame. He was unbothered by the sight in front of him and, quite frankly, he looked a damn mess. His hair was plastered down on his forehead in sweat, he had no shirt on, and his pajama pants were riding down, showing the band of his boxers.
“Guys,” Luffy’s voice was strained. “I feel really weird.”
Your eyes darted down. Luffy was rock hard, bulge standing out against the gray fabric of his pants. His cloudy vision came to rest on your chest. With no care in the world, one of his hands reached down to start rubbing himself.
“It won’t go away no matter what I do,” Luffy rubbed the heel of his hand down the outline of his erection, and his words were broken by a loud grunt. “I came here to ask for help but it—it looks like you beat me to it.” He cracked a grimace/smile and threw his head back after a moment, leaning his whole weight on the door frame as he touched himself through the fabric.
You snuck a hand into your pants. Brushing your clit gently, you keened. You were on autopilot, incapable of controlling your actions and not the most cognizant. All you knew was you needed more, and if you didn’t get more, something bad would happen.
“Mmmphhhh,” Luffy stifled a groan as he squeezed himself, lost in his own world. “It’s like my body is on fire.”
Your vision went black around the edges—you started to rub faster, spreading your legs open wide and creeping your fingers under your panties.
Burying your hand in your underwear, you hissed in air at your teeth as your fingertips came in contact with your hot folds. Your back arched and a needy sound trickled out. “F-fuck, Sanji help me.”
Sanji froze, eyes glued on your hand that was shoved down your pants, stirring under the fabric. The stain on his pants got bigger and wetter—it was very noticeable.
“What do you want me to do love?” He asked in a hushed, hesitant tone. He was holding onto his last shreds of reason, trying not to pounce on you, but those shreds of rationality were slipping out of his grasp like sand.
Your vision started to go black. You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that you pulled from yourself in a daze. Sanji reached a hand up to your core and ran a thumb up and down over the fabric above your clit. Your wetness was seeping through the layers already.
Some amount of time passed. You came and it helped you regain lucidity. When you opened your eyes—you had no clue how long it had been—you were laying on the bed and Luffy stood over you, watching intently.
Sanji was sitting at the end of the bed, now shamelessly digging his thumb into the tip of his cock, playing with his slit as clear precum seeped out of it. His hips bucked upwards a few times and you watched. You realized that you were touching yourself, moving your fingers in swift and messy need.
Luffy leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. The first few kisses were surprisingly sweet, loving, even, but they quickly turned sloppy. He maneuvered onto the bed—now, his knee was pressed against your core, a hand braced on one side of your head, and the other rested on your cheek as he kissed you passionately.
You made out for a few seconds, grinding down onto his knee a bit, aiming for friction. Your mewls were driving him and Sanji insane—the blonde continued to tease himself and stroke slowly while he watched Luffy take in every inch of you with his lips. The captain’s lips moved south.
He pulled your pants and panties off quickly, spread your thighs wide, and started to eat you out on the spot. Pressing his tongue on your clit, the captain drew soft circles around your sensitive bud, then he swiped his tongue up and down along your entrance. Luffy wasted no time slurping and greedily licking every inch and crevice of you that he could.
You started to lose touch with reality again—you realized, distantly and in third person, that whatever was wrong with you seemed like you would start to black out any time you went too long without an orgasm. As you were making this conclusion, a loud thud at the door distracted you once again.
Zoro’s body had dragged him across the ship, bringing him to your room of its own accord. He could hardly walk, slamming into the door frame, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed next to Sanji, eyes darting between Luffy eating you out and the blonde’s fist stroking and squeezing his hard on.
Your eyes shifted to Zoro, sitting with his legs spread wide on the bed next to Sanji. The swordsman started running a palm over his clothed erection. His breaths were fast, his cheeks were bright pink, he didn’t seem fully aware of the fact his eyes were glued on his nemesis/frenemy’s fist pumping over his cock.
No one said a word for a few moments. It was a silent agreement—whatever was happening needed to be addressed, and there was only one thing to do.
It had been too long without climax for you (again). Your vision went black and your mind went blank. When an orgasm finally crashed into you, minutes later, it brought you back to reality and a few moments of lucidity. Your ears were greeted by a cacophony of ragged breaths and deep groans to your left.
Turning your head, your eyes were met with the sight of two people (who you thought utterly hated each other) entangled on the bed.
Sanji was completely naked, while Zoro had on short, tight, black boxer-briefs. He was on top of Sanji, rubbing his aching erection on Sanji’s while his brows furrowed and needy sounds trickled out of his mouth. Every few seconds, Sanji let out a whimper and arched his back off the bed.
“Don’t stop,” Sanji gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as Zoro’s muscles rippled.
“I f-fucking can’t,” the swordsman grunted in response, his tone tinged with annoyance.
Your eyes stayed glued on the pair, bewildered and feral, until Luffy’s tongue, buried inside of you, demanded your attention. Was he using his devil fruit powers? Head had never felt this good before. His tongue prodded your pulsing hotness, sliding up and down greedily between your lips before pushing inside of you again.
The slurping noises from your captain were sinful. Your eyes crept from his head buried between your legs to the sight of his hips rutting on the sheets beneath. His cock craved friction. He wished his tongue wasn’t buried in you but something else instead.
Grabbing tufts of Luffy’s hair, you dragged his mouth closer, pressing his roaming tongue as deep as physically possible.
“L-luffy, need m-more. Please.” You begged, vision getting blurry around the edges. You felt hotter than before.
Instead of your captain’s voice in response, a loud moan from Sanji answered your pleading. Your eyes snapped to the pair of men again—Sanji was squirming under the swordsman, shuddering and clawing at Zoro’s biceps now as he grinded up into his cock.
“Cumming,” the blonde grunted, pushing his hips upward, grinding harder onto Zoro. “I’m c-cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The chef came on his own stomach while Zoro rocked his hips into the blonde’s shaft with more urgency, overstimulating him and eliciting desperate cries.
“Can’t stop,” Zoro choked out amidst his own moans and heaves for air.
Tears pricked in the corner of the chef’s eyes, but he didn’t tell the swordsman to stop, in fact, he rutted his hips up again and again. He was gearing up for yet another orgasm when Zoro brought him into a kiss and trailed his fingers towards the blonde’s erection.
More moments fleeted by—more gut-wrenching pleasure from Luffy’s tongue inside of you, hazy images of Sanji and Zoro grinding on each other, smearing the milky puddle of cum all over Sanji’s abdomen on Zoro’s underwear and abs.
Your eyes fixated on the outline of Zoro’s erection through the damp fabric. You were mesmerized.
Time faded into oblivion. The next memory you had was of Zoro flipping you over, onto your stomach, and climbing on top of you. He positioned you in prone bone, pressing his chest on your back. Trailing his fingers down and squeezing a rough handful of your ass, he then dipped two fingers into your hot folds and coaxed fireworks of pleasure from you.
Zoro relished how wet and ready you were for him thanks to Luffy’s previous work. He played with you for a little while, dragging his finger pads across your g-spot repeatedly and curling them upwards inside of you until you begged for more. When he pushed his cock inside, he felt so big that it was almost painful. He entered you centimeters at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and the ring of hair around the base of his cock met your flesh, his hips started to pump into yours rhythmically, gaining speed each moment that passed.
“Feels hot and s-sticky inside,” he gasped, hips shuddering into you as his tip passed your g-spot. You shifted under him the slightest bit, drawing a sensitive gasp from the swordsman. Every movement from him felt euphoric—and coupled with his weight on top of you, you felt like you were going crazy with desire. He couldn’t fuck you fast enough.
Turning your head, you realized that Sanji had one hand wrapped around his cock again but was now in a similar position to you. He was flush with the bed, chest pressing on the covers, simultaneously stroking himself and humping the sheets as he watched Zoro fuck you.
Zoro groaned pure filth in your ear. “Just like that, baby. Fuhccckkk. Feels so good.”
Each pass of Zoro’s length inside of you and past your g-spot was met with a squelching noise from how wet you were—every roll of his hips pushed him deeper inside of you and it felt like you were floating.
As Sanji watched, his fist moved faster and so did his hips. He roughly jerked his length and rubbed his glistening tip into the covers. His cock felt hot, it was pulsing, and each brush of his flesh against the fabric made him shiver. He was working off of animal instinct alone, eyes so dilated and mind so foggy that all he knew was that he felt good and he didn’t want it to stop. He could watch the pair of you for hours. He didn’t care.
Voice husky and bathed in lust, Zoro was getting more worked up. “Say my name,” he groaned as his length passed in and out of you. “Say it.”
Before his name could exit your lips, Sanji moaned into the sheets below. “Zoro. Zoro. Hah, fuck, Zoro.” Moments later, you watched him orgasm all over the sheets below, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.
Hearing the chef’s desperate, pathetic mewls made Zoro fuck you faster. Just when you thought you were at the precipice of orgasm, Zoro reached a hand under you and started to rub your clit, then he bit your shoulder. The pain felt good, and the combination of sensations was overwhelming—your orgasm was intense, shocking, and ecstatic.
A fleeting thought passed through your mind—where’s Luffy?
He was perched at the end of the bed, touching himself to the sight, waiting for his turn, which he promptly took when Zoro was done with you.
The next scene in your memory was Luffy fucking you, but you weren’t quite sure how you got there. You did remember that right before Luffy touched you, he asked you softly, “Do you want to keep going? Or have you had enough?”
You croaked out an eager, “more.”
“On top?” Luffy asked, waiting for your confirmation. And when you again agreed, he shifted, so he was laying on the bed, and you were on top of him.
Sinking down on his cock, you started to ride him. His hands came to rest on your hips and his eyes looked hungry. As if he wasn’t full from the ridiculously huge meal he just ate.
Parallel to you and Luffy, Zoro had Sanji on his lap. Zoro’s chest pressed on Sanji’s back, so the chef was facing you and Luffy. The swordsman’s large, rough hand wrapped around Sanji’s front. Languidly, Zoro played with Sanji’s shaft, teasing him at a snail’s pace.
Zoro wasn’t all there mentally because of (what you deduced to be) the aphrodisiacs. It’s like he was running on pure thirst. Something in him wanted Sanji to beg and wanted to see you getting off to the sight. He was getting a kick out of the cook being absolutely pathetic. He wanted to see him be utterly shameless.
“’m gonna cum,” Sanji whimpered, writhing around on the stocky pair of hair thighs underneath him.
“Shhh. Not yet, cook. Can’t you hold on for a little bit longer? Don’t you want to watch?”
Sanji got quieter and nodded, holding his orgasm at bay as best he could while he watched you ride Luffy, who was practically growling out commands faster than you could keep up.
“Faster.” “Faster.” “Harder.” “More.” Every time he spoke, you did as he said. You did so until your legs started to burn, until your thighs started to shake, until he was doing all the work for you, lifting you up and down on his shaft.
He pressed his tip on your spongey hot spot and wrenched pleasure from you. Zoro edged and teased Sanji within an inch of his life while the pair of them watched—it was almost cruel. The cook was in tears over how good it felt, how badly he wanted to keep cumming, and how much it was getting to his head.
“Please Z-zoro, fuck, please.” Sanji was close to his breaking point.
“Just a bit longer, curly brows, hold on.”
A few more seconds passed. It didn’t take long for Luffy to bring you to the brink of orgasm, which was what Zoro was hoping for. As you started to shake, eyes rolling back in white-hot pleasure from your orgasm, Zoro finally gave Sanji permission to cum.
You hadn’t expected the swordsman to be this controlling, this mean, and this verbal.
“Mmmphhhh. Just like that,” Zoro exhaled while he watched you cum all over Luffy’s cock. “Now you can cum.” He then murmured something in Sanji’s ear that would have left you gob smacked if you had enough wherewithal to think. “There’s a good boy.”
While Sanji painted his own stomach white, you collapsed on top of Luffy. He kissed the side of your head and started to pet your hair.
“You need a break?” He asked you, voice tender and kinder than usual. You nodded and then drifted into unconsciousness for some period of time.
Memories after this point completely faded to black. You had some notion of waking up and sucking Zoro off and then riding Sanji until he cried again, but… the images were blurred. Someone came on your face, two indiscernible figures in your memory were entangled on the sheets again, but… you drew a blank after a point.
---
When you finally came to, you concluded that whatever the fuck that was must have been a very strong aphrodisiac. You couldn’t figure out what it was in though—the wine? The water? Something in the food? Whatever it was, it must have gotten out of your system through sheer number of orgasms and hours of fucking.
You were still on your bed, under the covers and tucked in along with Luffy. Sanji and Zoro were off somewhere, presumably getting cleaned up but…? Who knows.
You checked the clock—it was around 10:00PM. You, Sanji, Luffy, and Zoro had been going at it since 5:00PM, shortly after your early dinner. So… almost five whole hours? But you didn’t feel like it, really. You weren’t sore or anything which was a feat in itself.
Putting some clothes on, you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were parched. You’d have to wait to debrief until you saw Zoro or Sanji, or until Luffy woke up.
You walked into the kitchen and were met with a sight that broke your brain for a second. Nami, Robin, Franky and Usopp were at the dinner table, chowing down on the dinner leftovers Sanji packaged up for them in cute little serving boxes. They must have just gotten back from their outings.
Your eyes flashed around the room—wine bottles were open. They were having a grand old time.
Your stomach sank. Fuck. They were about to have even grander of a time if they kept eating and drinking like that. You’d have to sit yourself out for round two—not sure you could handle it, honestly.
After that night, you came to a good understanding of the dynamics with each man in bed. Not only from your memory, but because you went in for seconds with each of them at some point. Luffy was greedy and forthcoming, but kind, like usual. Zoro was an absolute machine, filthy and verbose. And Sanji was, well, Sanji. He was doting, pathetic, and desperate. What a good variety to choose from—you were never left wanting again.
ik im gonna look back at this later and go GOD DAMN woman, were you okay? frothing at the mouth. anyway...
thanks for reading!! this was pretty challenging for me, i wanted it to be halfway decent but just couldn't get it anywhere i wanted really
T-T idk if i'll ever live up to the luffy aphrodisiac kinktober fic i wrote :p
here's my masterlist if you're interested!
dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll
taglist @eggrollforyou !
just the sillies feasting on some grapes, ITS ALMOST THE END OF THE SUMMER HOLIDAYS and it doesn't even feel like it's summer, it's so cold and gloomy here but I still enjoyed my 6 week break
still not a fan of the colouring tho, I'm trying to gaslight myself into liking it
Hi Zuko, how are you? I Just read you write poly, so may I ask a Benn + female reader + Shanks, nsfw please? Thank you
★ GUESS WHO! shanks + beckman ★
── pairing. shanks x f!reader x beckman.
── summary. shanks and beckman have the lovely idea of playing a fun little game of guess who in the bedroom. this time, with a blindfold.
── cw(s). nsfw. pwp. afab!reader. she/her pronouns used. sub!reader. oral. ( f receiving ) blindfold. overstimulation. piv. unprotected sex. mating press. manhandling. ( kinda sorta ) shanks calls the reader “gorgeous”, “pretty girl”, “beautiful”. beckman calls the reader “darlin”. not proofread. MINORS DNI.
── wc. 1.6k.
── notepad. i’ve been trying to write this for SO long it’s almost ridiculous. it went through so many changes until i FINALLY got the inspiration randomly in the middle of the night on a thursday🗿🗿im so sorry this took SO LONG. also further spreading my southerner beckman propaganda muahahaha
“all i’m saying is, i find it a bit unfair that i’m the only one that can’t see,” you muttered, as your fingertips tugged at the satin black blindfold covering your eyes. large, rugged hands gently wrapped themselves around your wrists, guiding your curious hands up to the pair of soft familiar lips of the greying gunslinger who was behind you.
though you could not see him, you focused on how gently and loving, beckman kissed your hands. just that quick almost forgetting there was another person here with you. another hand found your bare thighs, making you jolt and close your legs in surprise, goosebumps covered your skin.
your redheaded captain’s voice reached your ears, “because if you could see the game would be ruined.”
“what game? what did you talk beckman into?” you questioned, earning a light chuckle from the gunslinger behind you. he let your hands fall to your sides, kissing from your shoulder up to the base of your neck, as his hands moved to fiddle with the loose tie of your silk robe.
“i’ll have you know, for once this was his idea,” shanks clarified, prying your thighs part, catching a glimpse of your panties hidden underneath your robe. “we wanted to play a little game of guess who. we’ll ask you who’s pleasing you, and you will just have to guess. if you answer correctly, you get a reward. if you answer incorrectly…well…” he trailed off, as both he and beckman stopped touching you all together. you couldn’t hold the desperate whine that fell from your lips, your body fidgeting in between beckman’s thighs, where you sat on the edge of the king-sized bed you all shared, needed to feel them touch you again.
you didn’t even have to see them to know that both of your boyfriends were smirking down at you.
“because we love ya, we’ll start very easy.” beckman began, wrapping his strong arms back around your body and finally undoing your robe tie, opening to reveal your burning body underneath a matching set that left little to the imagination. his breath was hot against the shell of your ear, “is that okay with you, darlin?”
you eagerly nod your head at his words. you could hear your boyfriends lightly tsk, making you pout. you knew better than that.
shanks moved closer, taking your chin into his hand, guiding your pretty little head to where he was, “use your words, gorgeous.”
“yes, i want this. i want both of you,” you breathed out.
“much better, pretty girl,” he smiled, leaning crash his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss that he‘s been waiting to give you since he saw you walk out of the bathroom in this damn little robe that didn’t even cover your ass. just as fast as the kiss came, it was gone, as he pulled away from your lips with a laugh. it felt like a damn punishment, “now pretty girl, who was that?”
“you, shanks.”
“easy guess,” he teased. using the space between your legs, he carefully got onto his knees on the floor in front of him. if you could only see him.
beckman moved his rough hands up your hot skin, bringing his hand up your face, turning your face to him for a kiss. his kiss couldn’t be any more different than shanks. not hungry and rough, but passionate and soft. they must have mistaken you for dumb if they didn’t know you already could tell who is who by their kiss and the taste of their lips. it wasn’t hard to tell the difference between cheap beer and cigarette smoke and that sweet bourbon you got him for his birthday.
beckman spoiled you a little, giving you a longer kiss before eventually pulling away. he was always sweet on you. “and who was that?” he said, his lips practically ghosting on top of yours.
“you, beckman.”
“atta girl.”
“this is easy. i got this.”
this was easy, far too easy. you could do this with your eyes closed, well, blindfolded. you had known the both of them like the back of your hand. so just how bad could it get?
how bad could it possibly be, with your matching set discarded somewhere on the floor and your naked body sprawled on the bed and your shaking legs struggling to stay wide open, threatening to close around just whoever’s head was finger fucking and eating out your pussy like a starved man with no shame, making a mess of you. all while the other, alternated between sucking and kneading your tits and swallowing your moans into their mouth.
you couldn’t tell who was who, too dazed and fucked out from your previous orgasms for a name to spill from your swollen lips, as you take what is given to you.
he flicks his tongue over your puffy clit, before sucking roughly on your bundle of nerves, pumping his thick digits in and out of your pussy at an unforgiving pace. that band in the pit of your stomach was stretching thin, threatening to burst, for the second time tonight, maybe it was the third, you weren’t sure.
if ‘no touching’ weren’t one of the rules of the game, your fingers would be pulling at the hair of the bastard who was making you feel so fucking good. instead, you grip the sheets, as you reach your orgasm, thrashing against the hold of the other fucker who was holding you down.
“who just made you cum, sweetheart?”
coming down from your high, you had nearly forgotten about the game. you aren’t even sure whose voice you were listening to. you try to think real hard “…s-shanks?” your shaky voice whispered.
that ill-fated tsk coming from beside you, “wrong again. what happened to that confidence from earlier? i thought you had this,” shanks teased. he helped sit you up, leaning your back against his bare chest, as he used the headboard to support himself. he rested his chin on the top of your head. “poor beck, working so hard to pleasure you and you still guessed wrong. i think you should make it up to him, don’t you think so too?”
“yes! i want to! please…let me make it up to him.”
“look at that, where did this eagerness come from?” it was beckman’s turn to tease you. this was a side of him you had yet to see, a side you were enjoying.
as you try to catch your breath, you don’t even hear the whisper exchange between your boyfriends. you can only make out shanks giggling under his breath and beckman removing himself from your legs and the bed altogether. the redhead massaged gentle circles in the small of your back.
oh, how you yearned to see them, even for just a second. finally, you heard beckman rid himself of his pants, freeing his cock from its restraint and you felt the bed dip again.
beckman’s rough hands grip your hips, pulling you almost out of shanks’s lap, leaving your head resting on his thigh. he laid you on your back. before you could even spread your legs, he forces them up, pressing your knees up to your chest further than you even knew they could go before stuffing your sopping, greedy cunt full with his cock inch by inch. as he bottoms out, he lets out a low groan of “fuck”.
“oh baby, he just slid right in, fuck,” shanks breathed out, letting his fingers graze the side of your face as he hovered over you, admiring your fucked out expressions and pretty mewls as if they were the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.
beckman began to move, his slow thrusts gradually picked up speed, as he found a rough pace, drilling you into the mattress. shanks was hard as a rock watching as he pitched in a strong hand to help keep one of your quivering legs up to your chest. the way your pussy swallows beckman’s cock over and over again, leaving a thick creamy white ring at the base. the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, each one greater than the last one, leaving you babbling incoherently. it's
“that’s it, beautiful. you’re taking him so well,” shanks praised, making your pussy flutter around beckman’s cock. the gunslinger let out a low grunt, before grinning, “oh, she loved that.”
to hell with not touching. one of your arms was wrapped around beckman’s neck, as was intertwined with shanks’ hand as you reached your high, giving them your third orgasm of the night. or was it the fourth? “that’s it, let go, gorgeous.”
beckman followed behind you, filling your pussy to the brim with his cum. he slowly slid out of you, gently bringing your legs back down to the mattress, not before making sure to plant sweet kisses on your bruised thighs and ankles from where he held a bit too tight.
still lost in your pleasure, you hadn’t even processed that they had traded places, beckman was once again behind you while shanks had settled himself in between your legs. beckman removed your blindfold, allowing you to finally see.
shanks surprises you with the first stride up your folds, causing you to shutter in overstimulation. “too much,” you stutter, hazily watching as the redhead cleaned you up with his tongue, humming in delight against your leaking cunt. for only a moment you swear you could feel him smirk against you.
“how honey, we’re just getting started. besides you still have to make up for all of your wrong guesses.”
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titsay
2087
dailybridgerton
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