I wanna get high with Ymir or Pieck and have her pull me into her lap and make me ride her fingers and when I'm not doing it good enough for her she'd do it herself mmmm
Warnings: drug use, fingering
cries:(( wanna get high with Pieck:(( sitting in her room, spread out amongst her soft cotton bedsheets and pillows, windows open and some lo-fi beats on in the background, or a playlist full of slow, heavy songs yknow? the kind that hit you deep and hard when you really listen but serve good as background music too:(( nd Pieck is only wearing this big big t-shirt, hair up in a bun and eyes sleepy and so so red, heavy and watery and trained on your every sluggish movement,
"C'mere, come sit here," she's seen the way you've slumped against the wall and then drifted sideways, unable to hold yourself up but you're giggling and hitting the bong again, breathing in so so deep and letting the smoke burn your lungs, singe your throat, puffing out through your nose and it hits you so fucking hard, so heavy and light at the same time. Pieck coos when you crawl over to her with crossed eyes and a high pitched, slurred giggle, catching your cheeks and bringing you close, bringing you into her lap, letting you tangle with her, wind with her, merge with her nd her fingers get so wet and slippery when they delve into your panties and between your folds:(( Pieck's a little more sober than you, a little less foggy and she slicks your lips with hers, huffing and puffing and digging her fingers into your hip, urging you to grind and hump her fingers,
"That's it honey, that's't," you're so breathless and languid, lazy and slow, almost struggling to swivel your hips so her fingers catch on your clit nd maybe slip into you maybe if you just, if y'just -
"Can't - Pieck, I can't please," so needy, even while drunk on the high that's carrying you up above the bed and into the clouds, arching your back and mewling when her swollen lips close over your clothed nipple, tugging and flicking and makin' such a sticky mess over your top:(( but you're making a mess too, just as sticky nd wet nd drippy between your legs, with three fingers curling and scissoring and prodding and hooking inside of you, thumb catching on your clit when Pieck remembers what she's doing. You're both moving, both writhing and humping nd tangling closer together, thrusting together in some kind of strange dance, higher nd higher than you already are, already have been:(( everything feels so much better, so much more amplified, and yet you can't feel a damn thing, bouncing harder, jerking faster, reaching down to grip her wrist with a cry and a sob, Pieck upping the force of her fingers, of her abuse of your pretty pulsing cunt:((
"More, more, more! Please!" You'd already orgasmed once? twice? but you're too high to have noticed, sweaty and swollen and puffy eyed, unable to tell whether one orgasm was beginning or if it was ending? But Pieck can't stop, won't stop for you, fog clouding her inhibitions of maybe it's too much, maybe you're sensitive, maybe you're tired - all the two of you want is more, more, more:((