#≡;- ꒰ °nanaminsmooninc. ꒱

[nanaminsmoon]

e.jaegar x shynailtech!reader. mdni. 18+

wc: 1761.

a/n: the girlies wanted another eren fic and i need to clear my drafts so here we are😁

eren had ended up on your doorstep, hands in his pockets and checking his shoes, via a trusty recommendation courtesy of mikasa. being arguably your best and most loyal client, mikasa had notified you about his visit a week before your appointment. but, though you had been expecting the brunette, you hadn’t expected him to be as good-looking as he was; brown locks in a loose bun, grey tech under his black moncler coat and white af1s on his feet. and his good looks weren’t the only thing she had failed to mention, because eren seemingly had a staring problem.

those jades hadn’t left you since eren had crossed the threshold separating your studio and the outside world. it was hard not to notice, because he was practically burning two holes into the top of your head as you worked. yet you wouldn’t mention it, because you assumed it was due to novelty. because, as put-together as he was—well-groomed, and smelling of a knee-weakening herby mix of woody cologne and faint weed—it was very much possible that it was his first time getting his nails done. so it was only natural for him to thoroughly assess his surroundings, as well as the people in it. it just so happened that, unluckily for you, you were the only person in those surroundings.

while most clients would pull their phones out, some even going as far as to put their airpods in while making small conversation, eren found all his entertainment in you; your steady breathing as you poured all your attention into your craft, the way you’d pull back from his fingertips and ask him for his approval, and the way his calloused hands felt in your delicate ones. their grip was firm, yet very gentle, and he felt sick for even imagining how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. just two seconds of quiet was enough time for his brain to generate different versions of one particular image: those nails of yours, that he figured you had done yourself, decorating his hard length—your thumb occasionally swiping over his leaking tip. though just a daydream, the feeling was so visceral that a small shudder travelled down his spine, forcing a deep breath to leave eren’s mouth without his permission. and that would be the thing to make him shake himself out of his reveries before you noticed.

“you’re good at this. i see why mikasa is here all the time”, he'd comment, and your small laugh would be covered by the back of your hand as you muttered out a timid ‘thanks’. and though he tried to fight it, those perverse thoughts he had quelled rose back again because of that simple reaction.

‘curiosity’ was the name of the debauched hand twisting every single one of eren’s thoughts, and its fuel was the question of how far your shy demeanour extended. during the few moments his eyes weren’t locked on you, they would be fixed on a random spot in the room as he entertained the idea of burying your hard work deep inside of you—slender digits moving in and out of you with haste, as his other hand rested on the back of your neck to pull your lips onto his. eren pondered whether or not your hand would still cover your mouth even as he curled his fingers in a way that made your back arch off your work chair. would that coy act still try to override the fact that your walls told him what your abashed mouth refused to say? and, as his arousal made him shift in his chair, eren’s mind couldn’t help but ask him if you'd grab onto his arm as your lips told him it was too much, but your eyes pleaded for him to keep going. luckily for his inquisitive mind, eren would soon find the answers to all his questions.

“but you can take it, can't you ma?”, eren’s breath slid past the shell of your ear as he spoke into it. his words reeked of artificial sympathy, because there was not an ounce of pity in his digits as they pumped in and out of you—a rogue thumb even moving to rub at your clit.

most people would be bothered by someone staring them, many would even ask them what their problem was, but you had remained silent—knees pushed together as you tried to soothe the effects of eren’s glare, underneath the table. even when he’d move a little closer, purposely making sure you were aware that it was you he was looking at and not whatever was being illuminated by the bright led lights on your table, all you’d do was push your head further down to narrow your vision on the task at hand—making eren scoff in amusement.

“y'know...”, he'd finally speak up, to no proper response, “it's okay to come up for air every once in a while”, eren would remark and, from where he was looking, he’d see your eyebrows crease in confusion.

“you ain't gotta be scareda me. eye contact is good. customer service and whatnot”, he’d shrug, and you’d nod back. and that’s all you could do. because everything he was saying was right; his glower had burned through you, leaving behind a cowardly pile of ashes.

“yeah, but i gotta do my job. so i kinda have to look at ‘em”, you’d explain.

“the nails are fine.”, he'd quip, pulling his hand from your grasp to leave you just staring at the table, “and so are you. so lemme see your face”, he'd say, and you'd freeze.

“need me to ask you again, or do i gotta move you myself?”, he'd ask with a sly smirk, that you’d only see when you faced him. once he could meet your shaking eyes, he'd sigh in contentment,

“there she is”, he'd joke.

and now she was about to cum on his fingers so he'd quickly pull them out of you, earning him a look of aroused outrage from yourself.

“think imma do allat and not see how this pussy feel?”, a light chuckle carried eren’s question out of his mouth, and his hands would be preoccupied with pulling his joggers and boxers down. eren wanted all that shyness gone, so he'd get you to take the initiative and move yourself back on him—fucking yourself on his dick, with your hard work sandwiched between your tongue and the roof of your mouth as you sucked all the arousal off his middle fingers. it only took a few minutes, but the shy woman he had met had all but disappeared as soon as eren's dick had entered her, and that amused him. maybe you had been shy because you feared looking at him would lead you to this very position, and you weren't ready to face that reality. but eren had enough courage for the both of you; he had been brave on your behalf, so you could get to the point where his dick was so deep inside you, he was making your legs shake,

“eren, i’m cumming”, you spoke out quietly, and he grabbed your jaw and turned you to face him.

“i can’t hear you. say it again”, he ordered through clenched teeth, and you whined, “just speak up for me, ma”, he kissed your cheek.

“i’m cumming, eren”, you said louder, and he’d smile to himself before holding onto you and fucking into you himself. you came almost instantaneously, your voice the loudest he’d heard you. there weren’t many words you could string together because your brain was too busy trying to will your limbs to keep you upright. but it would be enough encouragement for eren, and it’d move his hips faster as he continued fucking into you.

the feeling of you tightening around him had switched your roles; it had rendered eren speechless, while you were straining your vocal cords to tell him how good he felt—all the while, neglecting the fact that you were about to snap a fingernail with how hard you were gripping onto your work surface. if his curling toes didn’t have him busy fighting a foot cramp, eren might’ve had time to be surprised by the fact that you cut him off as he was about to speak.

“nut in it, eren”, you’d plead with him, and your words must’ve skipped over his ears and gone straight to his dick, because those five syllables would be enough for him to still and fill you with his seed—his lips connected to your neck to barely stifle his moans. there’d be a slight pause as you both stood, catching your breath and recovering from a high that wasn’t ready to come down yet. when you’d reluctantly try to pull away from him, you’d be thankful his fingernails were trimmed because they’d be digging into your hips and, as expected, his eyes were stuck to your face. even with his curiosity quenched, eren wouldn’t stop studying you; the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing regulated again, the stray hairs adhered to your forehead by sweat, and the small pout formed by you holding back your frustrations,

“the fuck’s your problem?”, you’d finally ask, and eren would be taken aback by your curt words.

“what, i can’t look at you?”, he’d ask through a low chuckle, kissing your cheeks and rubbing circles on your exposed hips.

“yeah, but chill—ffuck”, each time you moved off him, eren’s hands would halt you and the friction was tightening the knot in your stomach that he had loosened not too long ago, “i’m not going nowhere, you ain’t gotta stare like that”, your laboured words fought against the moans threatening to escape your mouth.

“you’re just pretty, that’s all”, eren’s hand would once again be on your jaw, stilling your movements so his lips could resume their kissing on your neck and the space behind your ears, while his hips restarted their movements, “but you right; i ain’t done with you, so you not going nowhere til i am.”

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

i love him so much omg someone help me

megumi's a "whatever," boyfriend. not in the sense that he has an attitude, but in the sense of agreement to your actions. you want him to buy you that korean corndog? sure, whatever. you want to match keychains with him? not quite his style, but it's whatever.

megumi's also an "i don't know," boyfriend. he never knows. he lives by the saying that ignorance is bliss, and it constantly leaves him in a state of confusion. he doesn't know how he got to the nail salon, but apparently he's found himself attempting to decide which colour's best.

"megumi, should i get this one or that one for my nails?"

"i don't know. they both look like the same colour," he repsonds, bursting his brain to find the difference.

"it is, honestly, but the shade is different."

"the first one then," he opts for the first choice, still having no idea what the difference is.

one more thing about megumi: he's a "my girl," type of man. believe it or not, he addresses you as "my girl" when you're not around. such behaviour leaves itadori and nobara in shock. the most endearing name of affection they've received from megumi bordered "idiot," or his favourite, "stupid." it's no wonder why they thought he had no capacity to be romantic.

"why are you so down in the slumps?" nobara questions, rounding the corner with itadori who's holding all her bags.

itadori joins in on the questioning, "yeah, you look like you found out spiderman isn't real."

in unison, nobara and megumi sigh heavily. it's only itadori who'd be sad at the fact that superheroes are fictional.

megumi slouches, resting his head on his knees. it bothers the other two that their friend isn't his usual self today.

"seriously, meg, are you okay?" nobara's voice softens to show her genuine concern. it doesn't last long, however. softness doesn't last long when you have the kind of friend who finishes every snack as soon as it's been bought.

"itadori yuuji, put that snack right back where you found it."

"my bad," he apologises, doing as nobara said.

the attention turns back to megumi. his aura radiates sadness — something that neither of the three knows how to deal with. well, it's better to say it than to dwell on it.

"my—" megumi stops himself, sighing at the mere thought, "my girl's mad at me and i don't know why."

"oh," the duo shares a response.

"uh, well, what did you do?" itadori asks, drumming his fingers awkwardly against his thigh.

"i don't know," the sad boy replies.

"do you ever know anything, fushiguro?" nobara pipes in. how are they supposed to help him when he himself has no idea?

megumi sighs heavily again, nobara's words hit him where it hurts the most, "you sound just like her."

"there's no saving him," itadori whispers to nobara.

"you're right. we should call her to deal with this," nobara whispers back, nodding with itadori as she secretly sends you a text.

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this yet but i hope it's okay lol. but i do know that i need this man real bad. and i picked this song bc it just kinda reminds me of this:)) also, i'm british but i always imagine the characters i write to have american accents so that's how i write them:))

cw: throat fucking, breeding, connie calls reader 'ma', 'hermosa', and 'baby', oral (f + m receiving), connie nuts on reader, n word usage, connie speaks spanish 2x; 'lo sé, hermosa, lo sé' (i know, beautiful, i know); 'quieres un hijo, ma?' (you want a kid, ma?)

wc: 2286

you always knew connie was a problem. from the day your ex introduced you to him, and his eyes’ journey across your body was one that should not be taken by a guy your man called his ‘best friend’. connie’s treatment towards you had never held any resemblance to that of a friend. it was almost as if he had no desire to hide his want for you. shown by the way he spent the rest of that evening, at eren’s house, eye-fucking you. his eyes probing you; brushing across your entire body, making the hairs on your skin rise at his command.

after that night, his eyes would return to you; attaching themselves to any moving flesh, as you shook ass when you guys all went out together. but, once again, you brushed him off. and you could've sworn you whined on him one time but the dim lighting in the club meant that you could never confirm. it was never to the extent where he made you particularly uncomfortable, you just needed to know what the nigga’s problem was. so you asked your, now ex, boyfriend ony about it. but he had accused you of blowing it all out of proportion.

“just because the nigga looked at you, you think he wants you?”, he had scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“it’s not about him looking, ony, it’s how he looked.”, you defended, and ony had rolled his eyes and carried on with whatever he was doing. that marked the first of many arguments you two had about connie.

the turning point came when you and ony broke up, and the first person to text you as soon as it happened was…connie. it was as if he had been waiting for this very moment since he met you. and he had. but, unlike his prolonged affections for you, the message he sent you was short.

”you good?”, you looked at your screen through teary eyes, and saw that he was facetiming you. so you, hesitantly, answered and you were met with a sentimental connie, throwing condolences your way. ensuring you that you would be fine, and telling you praises like; ‘you were too good for him anyways’ and ‘i would never treat a girl as beautiful and smart as you like that. i don’t know what he was thinking’. and, as sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his words that denounced his friend, aimed at the ears of his ex-girlfriend. but their comfort outweighed all the suspicions, so those calls became more regular. and, perhaps, that's how you got to where you are now; head upside down over the edge of his bed, with his dick fucking in and out of your throat.

“why you ain’t leave him sooner, y/n? i know he ain't ever fucked you like this”, your head tried to shake a response to him and he just laughed down at you, thinking you were absolutely adorable. even with all that spit spilling out the corners of your mouth, and your mascara running all over your face.

he had invited you over to just “chill”, but you knew better and went in a matching bra and thong—you didn’t know if it was just post-breakup loneliness, or wishful thinking because you had been feeling him for timeee. but it was a gesture he had laughed at once he took your clothes off.

“you want this dick just as bad as it wants you, huh?”, he had laughed, earning an abashed giggle from yourself. how he ended up fucking your throat, you didn't know. but you had weakened this man’s knees considerably, and now both of his hands were placed on your knees. the sight of your dainty hands toying with your clit as he used your throat as a cock sleeve made his dick pulsate in your throat. so he pulled out of you, slowly, groaning before he had two seconds to position his dick and nut all over your chest and stomach.

you no longer had loyalties to ony, so you could freely admit that connie was eating you out in a way ony never had. the pleasure he was giving you travelled through every cell in your body, even reaching your fingertips as one of your hands tried to grab at whatever parts of his bleached buzz cut it could. the other busy cramping due to how hard you were grabbing at the duvet underneath you. both of your legs rested over his shoulders as his tongue politely abused your heat. you thought you felt something in his mouth when you two kissed earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had dulled your senses. but, now he had you spread open on his bed, you could feel the small ball of metal greeting your clit as he sucked it into his mouth; the combination of the cold jewellery and the warmth of his tongue making your back lift off the bed. you were so close to your end, and that gap was finally closed when the little ball started vibrating. connie’s lower face was drenched, your wetness running down his chin and neck.

not a drop of it was wasted as he wiped it on his hand and licked it all off, his eyes glued to your face the entire time. having not fully come down from your high, connie’s next movements were a blur to you. all you remembered was him pulling something out of his draw, then your legs were in his arms, your thighs meeting his hips as connie fucked into you like he would get evicted from his house if he didn't. his trimmed fingernails were digging into the flesh surrounding your thighs and his eyebrows met to furrow in the middle of his face. he no longer cared about loyalties, not with how tight you were. he would do this now, and deal with the consequences later. because how could he let his best friend get in between him and the finest girl he'd ever met?

this man fucked you mercilessly, it was as if he had a point to prove. and he did—he wanted you to know that it's him you should've been with in the first place. he would’ve been so much better to you than his friend had been. and if you couldn’t see it, you’d feel it. the tip of his dick was damn near touching your lungs, knocking out any air you had stored in them. your eyes hadn’t focused since you entered those four walls, and connie’s were clouded by you. and that cloud finally rained down when you came around him,

“c-connieee—fuck—s-so good—fuckfuckfuck”, were your final words before your second nut of the night—arousal flooding the fabric underneath you, as well as connie's lower abdomen. seeing you coat him again, and wet the places that dried after the first one, made connie’s dick throb. but he wanted you to nut again before he got his own end.

so he picked you up, and laid you on your stomach, lifting your ass up, and giving it a quick slap. the sensitivity still resounding in all your limbs exacerbated the feeling of his palm, and long fingers, meeting your soft flesh. before he spaced your legs apart, his right one knelt between them, and his left propped up beside you. in seconds he was pounding into you again. your hands were grabbing at pillows, sheets, anything to find a small grip on reality. because this man was trying to fuck you into madness. his brain had stopped working the moment your lips attached to his, and its small whisper of reason evaporated and was replaced by his dick’s harsh clamours to fuck you until he couldn’t anymore.

clamours became careless whispers telling him to nut in you, and get you pregnant so you could be his forever. something he had joked about it in your facetimes, telling you,

”i have half a mind to make you the mother of my kids. then i could take care of you forever”, your view was of him cooking shirtless, with nothing but pyjama bottoms on. and you knew there was nothing under them because of the way they sat on his hips—his v-line fully exposed. but your response had been a laugh and an eyeroll,

“shut up, bro. i’m not trynna be anyone’s baby mum”, you scoffed.

”i never said baby mum. i said mother of my kids. there’s a difference”, he had reassured, earning another eyeroll from you. that conversation replayed over, and over, again in his head. and he tried to disperse those thoughts by maintaining a firm hold on your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucked you like his life depended on it.

he was hitting you with those slow strokes that hit the right spot every single time, and it had you whining and slapping the pillows above your head,

“don't tap out on me, ma, c’mon. stay wit’ me”, and you tried, but the pleasure he was making you feel was enough to drive a grown woman to insanity.

“i'm trying con-n, but it's—nnggh—too fucking good. fuck”, he revelled in knowing he was being this good to you, even if it meant dire things for his friendship. he had always wanted to see what this pussy was like, and now he knew, he'd be back again next week. same time, same place, the only changing being the positions he bends you into.

”lo sé, hermosa, lo sé”, he smirked onto your skin as he kissed it; his plump lips starting at your shoulders, making their way down the valley in the middle of your back. his hands would travel the width of your back, before one of them wrapped around your throat to pull you up to him—your back flush against his tatted chest. his body weight rested on his heels as he fucked up into you; one hand still gently squeezing your throat, and the other gripping onto your tit like it’d fall off if he let go of it. he didn’t know what he was saying anymore, all he needed was to make you his.

”quieres un hijo, ma?”, he voiced, and you blindly just nodded, until he spoke again, ”yeah, you do? want me to put a kid in ya?”, you didn’t know if he was playing or not, but you didn’t need the mess that would come with having a kid with your ex’s best-friend. even though you were trying to collect your thoughts, your surprise caused you to tighten around him. and that just made connie go even harder.

”n-no, connie, n-no. whattabout ony-y?”, you mewled out and he scoffed at you, his grip on your throat slightly harsher.

”the fuck he gonna say? huh?”, that last ’huh’ came out through gritted pearly whites, ”how’s he gonna claim you if you got my kid in ya? huh? he ain’t gonna do shit, ma, don’t stress”, he cooed before peppering small kisses all over you.

”b-but”, you wanted to tell this man that he’d lost his damn mind, but your eyes were too busy flickering into their sockets as more whines left your mouth.

”no buts, baby, i’ll take care of you”, his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and, with the way he was making you feel, you just nodded in agreement.

the words, ”good girl”, were the golden keys that opened the flood gates, and you came around him. that nut took all the strength from your body, and you would’ve fallen onto the bed if he hadn’t been holding you up. even still, the merciless pace which he fucked up into you with, did not falter. and you came again, crooning his name in overstimulation.

”c-conniee, fff-fuck”, your voice cracked out. he just smirked at your cute demeanour and resumed kissing your shoulders. before his groans fell deeper, and his fingertips dug deeper into your skin. his arms held you still and he came inside you—his release stealing his strength, meaning he gently dropped you onto the bed, collapsing beside you after doing so.

”you didn’t nut in me.”, you spoke quietly, and you thought the duvet had muffled you but the low chuckles rumbling from behind you told you otherwise.

”i had a condom on. you ain’t see me take it out?”, he walked off the bed, ”or did you really think i was gonna put a baby in you?”, he smirked, taking the thin layer of latex off him. his face winced at the sensitivity.

”nah.”, you spoke sheepishly, shaking your head against the duvet. he got off the bed, and made his way to the side you were laying on. once he made it to you, he grabbed you by your chin—making you sit on your legs as your body wavered. then his tatted hand was on your jaw,

”’f you want that baby, just ask and i’ll give it to ya”, his voice was quiet and the corners of his lips rose, as his eyes remained on yours. and once he saw your head make a small nod, his smile grew even bigger.

”bet.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmoon. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

hiii again 🫶🏾 boom girls night vs guys night (reader is dating connie/ony) and the girls are playing truth or dare— reader and one other friend get dared to make a vid of them shaking ass or something w the caption “anyone can take me from my nigga rn” chaos ensues, the guys are like hell no n go snatch up the girls

- 🪩

heyyyy so i remixed this a little but i hope it’s okay. and i was thinking about doing a little pt.2…🤭

cw: orgasm denial, ony records it but there's prior consent obvi, n word usage, ony calls reader; 'mama', 'baby', 'slut', reader calls ony 'daddy'

wc: 3638

the friday night you had originally planned to be a girls’ night, was currently being spent bouncing on ony’s dick on the couch of your shared apartment. muscular thighs rested beneath you—covered in a mix of their owner’s first release of the night, and the wetness produced by your denied ones. albeit a tease, and rough at the best of times, ony had never been cruel to you. until right now—watching his nut leak out of you, even lifting you up to collect some of it on two fingers before shoving them in your mouth, and having you taste the fruits of your labour. flavours usually decadent enough to send you into delirium, made your nose scrunch in frustration. because, for ony, revenge was never sweet and you’d learn that tonight.

what started off as an innocent night with your girls took a nasty turn once mikasa suggested a game of truth or dare. even though she had called mikasa juvenile for her suggestion, ymir was the first to collect the drinks for the forfeits. and the loudest when it came to asking people out of pocket questions if they picked ‘truth’. as well as even dumber dares; like when she asked your friend, ella, to ‘accidentally’ send her ex an ass pic…(she obviously didn’t do it). but, knowing what ony was like and how he was with you, you thought she’d go easy on you. key word: ‘thought’.

”okay, y/n, you’re next”, mikasa nodded in your direction.

”um…truth”, in the interests of not upsetting your man, you decided to just choose something calm.

”boring…”, ymir shook her head at you, before speaking, ”but~ i’ve got a question for you. if you could have a threesome with ony and one of his friends, who you picking?”,

”the fuck kinda question is that?!”, you had your fingertips already firmly set on your shot glass, before you paused at all the girls encouraging you to answer. that momentary lapse was enough of a gap for mikasa to swoop her hand in, and grab your glass from you.

”a good one. now, answer it”, she pressed.

”i can’t answer that”, you narrowed your eyes at your friends, as they accused you of lying. a voice you couldn’t decipher due to your genuine shock, even voicing how you had to have an answer because of how fine ony’s friends were.

”you can. just tell us.”, sasha said.

”we won’t tell ony. if that’s what you’re worried about”, ymir held her pinkie up. but your brain power was so geared at the question at hand, that it couldn’t transcend far enough to will your hand to move.

”i’ve never thought about it, so i don’t know”, a part of your mind still didn’t believe that you were about to answer this question. there weren’t many ways to go about it; you either picked his closest friend, or the one you thought was most attractive.

”well think about it now.”, mikasa pushed. they weren’t going to give up until they got an answer, so you just conceded.

”fine! if i had to pick, then…”, you paused, ”it’d probably be eren”, the room went silent before different variations of ”eren?!” filled ymir’s living space.

”okay next!”, your deflections immediately began, and you hoped that the game would just end before shit got any worse. but hopes can only go so far.

when he overheard you talking to your friends about a girls night at ymir’s, ony automatically called his friends and suggested they had a boys night. the main reason being that he hated being at home when you weren’t there, so there was no way he was staying at that apartment while you were gone for the night. sat beside you, ‘helping you pack’ (aka feeling you up whenever you bent over to pick some stuff up), ony had asked you what you guys would spend the night doing. and your answer had been ‘girl stuff’,

”the fuck is girl stuff?”, his fingers wrapped around those words in confusion.

”shit that girls do”, you had laughed back. obviously he had no idea what that meant either but, now that he had seen your ass cheeks plastered on his best friend’s phone screen, he had been enlightened. connie had just been sat scrolling on his phone before a low ’shit’ left his mouth. no one thought anything of it until he leaned over to ony, who was just peacefully vibing with a blunt between his lips, and asked him,

”you seen this?”,

ony’s hand rose, wafting away the smoke he had blown out his mouth to see clearer. and, as soon as he saw, he knew exactly who it was. no matter the picture, angle, and video resolution, ony knew those cheeks like the back of his hand. this man could recognise them in a detective’s line-up of fat asses. even with the poor attempt to hide it with the phrase: ‘anyone can take me from my nigga rn’.

”hm.”, was all he said, before he picked his phone up, and pulled up your contact. his features remained frozen; unimaginable anger coated in feigned nonchalance, as he messaged you and said his goodbyes to his friends.

”pack your shit up and be at ymirs door in 5 minutes”.

that notification rested on your phone screen for a second before you shot up, rushing around to pack your bags. the woman behind the idea, ymir, sat in bewilderment as you asked her what the fuck she thought would happen when she posted a video of you and your friend shaking ass, in barely there shorts. although it was your idea to fold over the waistband of said shorts so they sat up higher on your ass, you didn’t think the bitch would post it???

through the help of the furious blood rapidly running through ony’s veins, and the empty night-time roads, he arrived at ymir’s quicker than you had anticipated. the force with which he closed his car door was enough to turn every window in that vehicle to dust—the sound being so loud that it forcefully pushed itself through the gaps in the opened windows, and bounced off every solid surface in ymir’s living room. the girls looked up at you, but even you couldn’t calm ony when he was like this. especially when it was you that had made him that way. three heavy knocks resounded from ymir’s door before sasha got up to open it. and, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, ony wasn’t alone.

”hey, eren”, sasha greeted, looking back towards you before she was slightly nudged by ony walking past her into the house. your eyes met for a few seconds, before you made your way over to him, bags in hand. the proprietorial hands that usually can’t be torn from you whenever you’re in ony’s vicinity, remained in the pockets of his joggers. they wouldn’t move, even as he dodged the kiss you intended to place on his lips; ony was pissed.

you couldn’t remember how much alcohol sasha had consumed, but it was obviously enough to wash away all her tact, because this girl could not read the fucking room.

”y/n said she wants to fuck you”, you heard her titter from beside the front door. ony never let anyone see him sweat, so you couldn’t see how he was feeling, and you weren’t sure you would want do.

”i never said that.”, you placed a gentle hand on ony’s forearm, taking notice of how it tensed under your touch, ”they asked me to pick one of your friends to have a threesome with and i just picked him because i didn’t know who else to say. you know it doesn’t mean anything”, your words were only loud enough for ony’s ears to hear, but that didn’t stop anyone else from inserting themselves into your conversation.

”i’m down”, eren laughed, placing his arm around ony’s shoulders to slap one of them. the air in that room was suffocating, and travelled in and out of your lungs at an excruciating pace; every eye observing the two that wouldn’t remove themselves from you.

”ony, i didn’t mean it like tha—”, your explanations were cut short by ony reaching down to take your bag from your hand. nothing was said, he just made his way to the door.

”you comin’ or what?”, he spoke, one foot already out of the door. hugs were exchanged between you and your girls, as they giggled somehow already aware of what was about to go down. on your way out, you smacked sasha upside her head, and rolled your eyes at her subsequent complaint. because how was she crying, when she was the one who had picked you up and dropped you right in it??

librarians would watch the scene playing out in ony’s car with green eyes, and notepads in their hands—you could practically hear the blood rushing through your boyfriends body because of how quiet it was in there. every glance you stole at him twisted the hand toying with your internal organs more, and more. but ony’s pupils hadn’t left the road once since he had gotten in the car. usually he would have a hand on your thigh as he drove, squeezing ever so slightly or stroking his thumb against it. but, today, your thigh had been replaced by his stick shift; the thumb he would caress you with, tapping at it furiously. it was obvious he had no intentions of talking, so you took the chance to explain yourself now before he took you home and fucked you dumb.

”you okay, baby?”, sweet words were met with a salty reception; nothing.

”don’t listen to sasha, you know she was just being annoying, and she was just trying to get under your skin.”, you reasoned, your hand rubbing his thigh gently.

”d’you mean it?”, he finally spoke, and the split second his eyes met yours scrambled your thoughts. making it hard to even understand the question presented to you.

”mean what?”, your head tilted in confusion.

”you wanna fuck eren?”, ony’s eyes lingered on yours for a millisecond too long before they returned to the road.

”of course not. i only want you, but th—”, ony didn’t even want to hear you out, because he knew all words after that one ’but’ would be blurred out nonsense to his ears.

”but”, he scoffed, ”you only want me but you still wanna fuck eren?”,

”no, ony—”,

”you posting your ass for him too?”, he cracked his neck at the memory of the look on his friend’s face at the clip of your ass jiggling all up in the camera. flash on and all. the mere thought was enough for his dick to react in his joggers, twitching slightly at the replaying image of your ass shaking.

”baby, no it was just a game”, that defense sounded ridiculous, even to your own ears. but it was the only one you had.

”so you disrespected me for a game?”, the stick shift was abandoned, ony’s hand moving on its own to reach over to you, and slip a finger under the waistband of your shorts. after scoffing at it being rolled up so the shorts would be shorter, ony would move his finger alongside it before putting his hand down your shorts. the cold of his finger hitting your warm stomach made your body shiver. and, in a lousy attempt to stabilise yourself, your hand landed on his wrist as the cogs in your brain slowly began working again. remembering that he had asked you a question,

”…no.”, your whispers barely reached his ears.

”what would you call it then?”, his fingers then rubbed circles on your clothed clit, and your hips automatically sought his touch. despite his clenched jaw, ony tried to maintain an unbothered front—even when his question went unanswered because your mouth could barely produce anything that wasn’t a quiet moan.

that would continue until you guys got home. and, once you did, getting out of the car was needlessly uncomfortable because of the thin fabric between your legs—soaked, and sticking to you. not caused by an orgasm, but by the pettiness of the man that sat beside you; adroitly toying with what he knew you wanted most, but never fully giving it to you. because ony’s hands hadn’t found your body seeking your pleasure. instead, they were vengeful and sought nothing more than to lead you towards the edge, only to leave you there so he could push you off whenever you felt ready. you didn’t know it yet, but that 20 minute drive back to your shared apartment had been the last bit of grace ony offered you. disrespecting him over a stupid game was incomprehensible, but if you wanted to play so bad then ony would join you. but, this game would have only one winner. and it wasn’t going to be you.

as soon as he opened the door, ony’s keys had landed wherever his hand had flung them—staying there until he cared to move them. for now, he turned on the light and walked you over to the couch. his hands hadn’t been connected to yours, but you knew to follow him, and that led you to the space in between his legs. stood, waiting for his next command like a soldier awaiting disciplinary action. on any other day, you would’ve only been stood for a few seconds before you were on your knees, using your mouth to pull words of forgiveness from your man’s parted lips. but today, ony just gave you one look up and down, thoughts of ’what the fuck am i gonna do with her?’ rampant in his mind.

”off.”, was all he said, referring to your shorts and you quickly scrambled to get them off. he waited for you to stand up straight again before leaning forward, feigned contemplation evident in the meeting of his elbow and knee. as well as the finger on his chin.

”now, what did this?”, he pointed his index finger, eyes flying up to your face as he observed the effects of his breath fanning against the wet patch in front of him, ”was it me? or was it the thought of eren fucking you?”, he started sliding your underwear down, and guided you out of it once it reached your ankles.

”you.”, you breathed out lightly, and he nodded in approval, before standing up to pull his joggers and boxers to his ankles. his dick practically jumped out of his calvin’s, slapping his clothed abdomen. he noticed your gulp at the sight of it, but he just sat back down.

”sit on it. and don’t cum until i tell you to”, he ordered. and, when all you gave him was a meek nod, his hand rose to grab your chin, the metal bands decorating his digits digging into your skin. squinted eyes traced your every feature before he spat out,

”the fuck does that mean?”, through gritted teeth.

”yes, daddy”, you spoke up, and he let go of you.

”good girl. because we both know what happens when you don’t use your words”, you nodded as your brain referred back to the time he had fucked your mouth in an attempt to show you how useful it is—a lesson designed to teach you to use it more often.

and now, you had been riding him for who knows how long. you really weren’t sure, but the aching in your thighs told you that it had been far too long. but time was no concern for the man underneath you—big hands sat on your ass cheeks, rubbing and slapping them each time that video popped into his mind. they would pause there for a few seconds, fingers digging into you as ony felt his abs, and thighs twitch. signalling his second orgasm,

”can’t believe you pulled that dumb shit”, he moaned out, his head falling back onto the sofa.

”y-ymir, dared me t-to”, your legs weren’t working with you the way they were when you first started riding ony, and it was probably because he had denied you of your own release far too many times. but, your boyfriend didn’t care what your reasoning was, all that he cared about was that nut you were denying him with your slow movements.

”she needa dare you to move faster or what?”, was all the encouragement you needed to pick up your pace, french tips digging deeper into his shoulders as he fucked up into you. whether it was on purpose or not, ony was hitting that spongy spot inside you, building you up for the nth time. but you knew that would only build to topple over, because a familiar warmth spread inside you. but you didn’t stop, because you didn’t want to do something that could deprive you of your relief. again.

”daddy, can i p-please cum n-now?”, you stammered, and ony looked up at you, holding your hips to still them. then his lips pressed against yours for the first time since he dropped you off at ymir’s house. the kiss was sweet until his tongue entering your mouth told you that he wanted more.

”don’t ever pull some like that ever again, okay?”, he whispered against your lips. and when he pulled back, you could see that his eyes had softened considerably. his lips would soon latch onto your neck, and jaw, before he lifted you off him.

the anger from earlier had seemingly subsided, your past actions diminished as ony fucked into you from behind, hand wrapped around your torso to toy with your sore clit. your face was pushed into the couch cushions, and you had gone from him denying you, to overstimulation. the white ring at the base of his dick, making him nut in you one more time before he picked his phone up.

”look back at it, baby”, he asked you, but the strength in your body was non-existent. although you could barely lift it, you shook your head against the material underneath you, and ony tsked,

”you can do it for the gram but not for me?”, his hand made harsh contact with your ass cheek, the flash on his phone illuminating the moisture connecting you two. the device captured everything, down to the smacking noises the flesh surrounding your hips made each time it made contact with ony’s hip bone. his frustration at that video came from the fact that a picture reserved for his eyes only had been hung in a public gallery, and now everyone knew what he was seeing right now.

”d-daddy, i’m s-sorry”, you cried out, lifting yourself up to look back at him. immediately, your eyes were met with the flash from his phone; blinding you to the hand that would soon land on your flesh again. and a small part of ony did feel bad for you. but the parts of him that didn’t, were significantly louder than the former. although seeing your face contort due to the pleasure caused by his ministrations was ony’s favourite part of sex, the circumstances meant that such romantic sentiments held no merit,

”you know i don’t like fucking you like a slut, mama. but when you act like one, fuck else am i supposed to do?”, it infuriated him how seeing your cheeks clap right in front of his eyes, just triggered thoughts of that fucking video—your friends’ laughs and words of encouragement ringing in his ears. and, he would attempt to hush them by fucking into you harder; hoping that the raucous caused by your skin meeting, and the pleasure it brought you, would drown them out. that was aided by the wetness jumping from in between your legs, to coat his thighs and stomach. once you came for the nth time, ony’s focused diverted,

”think you can take her from her nigga? come get her then”, enveloped in a smug chuckle, were ony’s words directed to the brunette who thought he could even joke about ever fucking you.

”you think eren can fuck you like this?”, he asked you, and you just shook your head, ”answer me, baby”, ony’s hand wrapped around your throat to pull you up slightly.

”no, d-daddy”, you stammered out before ony dropped you back onto the couch.

”damn fucking right he can’t”, ony’s hand played with your ass cheek for a few seconds, wobbling it in his hand like it was damn pizza dough, before he spread you open so he could give eren a clearer view of exactly what he was missing. and that was only the beginning because, at some point during the night, ony would move you to your bedroom, where he’d send eren random videos every few positions just to show him how you didn’t need a third. because he gave you everything two men could give you and more. didn’t matter how many niggas saw your ass cheeks on the gram, they would never know the feeling of nutting on them time and time again.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

babydaddy!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: this one made my heart ache a little icl. but i had to put this song because it goes so well😭

pt.2

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, infidelity (reader cheats), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', ”es bueno, ma?” ("is it good, ma?"), "quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you” ("you want another kid, hm? [...] tell me, and i'll give it to you"),

wc: 3380

“why’s my daughter telling me you got a boyfriend?”, booming from where its owner was stood at the door, connie’s voice abruptly entered your ear canals to bring your attention to him. after hugging your daughter, you had kept your front door open for connie to come in if he wanted to. and, when he followed you both inside, you had just assumed he was bringing in your daughter’s belongings. even as he stuck around after having placed her bags in her bedroom, his presence was dashed to the back of your mind. now, as your child sat in the garden eating with her aunt, he was demanding your attention as he leant against the doorframe.

“because i do”, your eyes were trained on the soapy dishes in front of you, and they wouldn’t divert as you spoke. meaning you didn’t see the incredulous expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face, as his features scrunched at your straight forward response.

“the fuck you need a boyfriend for?”, he asked. confusion was laced through every word in that sentence to hold it together so it could leave his mouth. barely.

“because we can't fuck as friends forever, connie. at some point we both need to move on, and i have��, you answered, frankly. the decision to coparent came after you and connie decided to break up four years ago. and four long years had been hastened by sunday sunsets spent behind closed bedroom doors when he returned your daughter back to you. meaning that suspicions did rise when the emotions sprawled on your face, at the end of every week, had become more impassive—the lustful glimmer in your irises, dimming to a seemingly more platonic one. yet, connie never said anything, he just assumed you wanted space. that’s not to say that it didn’t bother him, but he knew that he couldn’t beg you to come back to him. as much as he did want to.

because, contrary to popular belief, connie had changed since you two broke up. having heard the news of you having a boyfriend, old connie would’ve had a video of some girl throwing ass on him seared into the back of your eyelids by sundown. but old connie had never developed an understanding of how important his family was, and new connie would lose his life before he lost his girls. yet, these two different versions of the same man still shared one similarity; their love for antagonising you.

“so you're just bringing randoms into the place my daughter sleeps?”, connie exaggerated as he always did, irritation audible in his tone. and you’d roll your eyes at him.

“first off, he's not a random, he's my boyfriend. and second, this is my house, i can bring in whoever i want”, you said, wiping a pan. that term, ’my boyfriend’, was an anvil that sunk connie’s intestines to his feet in a way he had never felt before. it was hard to put a finger on what exact feeling it induced, but he did know that it pressed his dreams, of getting his family back, into grains of sand that would escape his grasp through the growing gaps in his fingers.

“has she met him?”, he asked, cautiously, looking at his sock covered feet in the slippers you had always kept for him. in the past, that had been a gesture that made him feel at home with you; something that made him feel like you still cared for him the way he did you. but now, the slippers felt uncomfortable. like they were growing in size, and the only person capable of wearing them was someone he could never be—like he couldn’t fill them anymore, and you knew that so you had gotten someone else to do it.

“yeah, he came over and cooked us dinner and she loved it.”, you said, tone coming out more braggy than you had hoped. and that hurt connie more than it angered him, but the latter was the only thing he was capable of expressing.

“so what, you gonna marry him?”, those words were abrupt, even surprising connie’s ears. but they’d be met with a scoff from your glossed lips as annoyance built inside you. your love life was none of his concern, and he knew that, so his entitlement infuriated you beyond belief.

“i don't know, connie”, you said, vexed, as you waved him off, “even if i was, why’s that any of your business?”,

“’cause you're the mother of my child. as long as she's here, your business is my business”, the truth in that statement rested in what connie didn’t say. that being, you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with so, whether you liked it or not, his heart had already staked its claim on you. and he needed to know who to fend off, to keep you by his side.

no thoughts spawned in your mind at that statement, so you’d just remain silent as you continued what you were doing. that gave connie enough time to search for straws to clutch at to get you back. but he could only ever draw one. that was the one that placed a small smile on his face as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip; if connie couldn’t win your mind over, he’d try his luck at the one thing that refused to obey the former.

”so we’re done? not even one more time for the road?”, connie’s shoulder pushed his body off the doorframe, before he started making his way toward you. a stutter in your mind would replay that phrase, ’one more time for the road’, until it finally clicked.

“we're not fucking, no”, you said, avoiding eye contact.

“just quickly, ma. i know you miss it.”, connie’s smirk would only widen when his statement received no rebuttal. and it’d stay that way as he walked to stand right behind you—he’d place a hand on either side of you, pushing you right against the counter. all you could muster was a harsh swallow as connie moved closer to you, and his breath would be touching your neck as he spoke, voice lowered.

"you used to call me all the time telling me you ain't never had dick like this. and i know he ain't fucking you good enough for you to forget about me", connie’s lips brushed past your ear. a brief shudder would intensify to wring out any suppressed longing you held for him, producing a moist patch at the front of your underwear. and that was before you could even feel his desperation, to keep you his, pressing into your lower back. once that’d register, you’d have to breathe deeply to release the temptation building within you.

"i'm not cheating on my man, connie", you said, voice shaking. a sigh would fall from connie’s lips, hitting the spot on your neck they planned to cover, before transfiguring into a tingle that explored your back. one of connie’s favourite things about you was your loyalty, so that answer was expected. but he’d still kiss his teeth at the knowledge that it was now being directed toward someone else.

"then leave him", he’d say, an inch away from your neck, before his plump lips would attach to the skin there. a proprietorial mark would be etched onto your skin when connie heard you sigh out in pleasure. the erasure of all his doubts would arrive when you tilted your head to give him better access. and those doubts would then be quashed completely when your hand rose to run your fingers through his buzzcut.

a few more kisses to the neck, combined with connie’s hand venturing into the front of your leggings to rub away all loyalties to your man, affirmed connie’s statements about you missing him. but once you were in the privacy of your bedroom, he could actually feel how much you missed him; your need for him was prominent in the way you tightened around his length like you feared letting him go. this was the first time where fucking you was a welcomed struggle, pulling out of you being a necessity he wanted to avoid. mainly due to the connection of your foreheads, connie couldn’t see anything but you; the noises you made, your scent, the look he could discern in your eyes when they weren’t exploring their sockets, all of it warmed his heart in an infuriatingly delightful way. and there was no way you hadn’t missed him, and the way he knew your body inside out. the way he knew where to kiss as your legs rested over his shoulders, a pillow sat underneath your hips as your nails painted stripes onto the skin on his back. five years ago, connie fucked you in every position he could think of, but separation birthed the need for closeness. so now, whenever you two fucked, it was always in a position that allowed for his eyes to be locked with yours as his tip poked that spot that had made you nut twice already.

”es bueno, ma?”, he asked and you’d nod a reply, pulling a smile from the man above you. you were all he could see, and perhaps that’s why he saw love in everything that surrounded him.

prior to this point in his life, connie’s need to build a family with you had never been a focal point for him. but now it was all he could see; he saw it in the envy that followed him around at the sight of families happily laughing together, he saw it in the ducks dutifully trailing their mother at the pond near your house, and he felt it when the merging of you and your daughter’s giggles made his heart feel swollen in a way he could never soothe. if he had it his way, you’d both be married with four kids living in some mansion somewhere. but when push came to shove, his ideals only ever amounted to short-lived ‘conversations’ when you two were fucking,

”quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you”, a fucked out mutter would always fall from your lips, and that’s the only answer he could ever get from you. because the answer you gave him any other time, tore his heart into a million pieces he had yet to locate. your boyfriend posed a new challenge for him, so connie would have to tell you how he felt before he lost you forever. feverish kisses would be placed on any skin connie would reach, as his hips sped up. pleasured mumbles would mean nothing to him, because he could feel your body warning him of your release.

”i’m yours, hermosa, just—fuck—nut on it”, he’d instruct, and your body would obey. this man was fucking you so good, you could’ve sworn you felt your soul leave its vessel, to watch you coating connie and the bed underneath you, in your arousal. and connie wouldn’t be far behind—hips losing their rhythm, and low ’fuck’s leaving his mouth before he started kissing you again.

”ifuckingloveyou”, he messily kissed onto your lips and surprise struck you so hard, you didn’t even register your own mouth speaking back to him,

”mmloveyoutoo”, those words would be enough to trigger a twitching in connie’s balls that would empty them, until he was leaking out of you.

the kiss you two shared was bittersweet, both literally and figuratively. not just due to the lingering taste of the results of your aching throat, mixing with the reason why you could still feel his lips wrapping around your clit, but also because connie felt like he was flirting with a dream that could never be realised. but that wouldn’t stop you two from losing yourself in each other and making out for a few minutes. until you’d hear a knock. all movements would be halted, and there’d be silence from behind the door. then winces, and small hisses of discomfort, would fill the space as connie pulled out of you before getting up to put his boxers on. he’d step off the bed, walking over to the door to tend to, who he thought was, his daughter.

”princesa, we’ll be out in a second, okay?”, connie shouted to the other side of the door, but the voice he heard was not the one he was expecting.

“the fuck’s going on?!”, connie’s eyes would dart back to your wide ones, before a smirk would quickly grace his face. it was clear to see that he was trying his very hardest to not burst into laughter, despite your panic being written all over you. disorientation clouded you to the point that you didn’t even realise that the shirt you decided to put on your body was connie’s. but he would. and he wouldn’t say anything, even as you walked to the door to talk to your boyfriend.

”i can explain”, is all you’d manage to get out to your man, before he’d open the door further to find connie sitting himself on the bed, covering himself with the sheets he’d just put on his lower half. the lower half of his face remained smug, but the upper half of it was focused as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him; desperate hands grappling to hold your boyfriend’s arms or hands, as he paced the room, trying to digest what he was seeing. connie’s enjoyment would be short-lived, ending when he heard the angry words your boyfriend was throwing at you.

”shoulda fucked her better, then i wouldna had to do it”, he said, still laid on the bed. the room would fall still once again, and you’d look at him in pleading. he’d shrug, but acquiesce, not saying anything after that comment. that seemed to be the final straw for your boyfriend, because he’d say something about needing to go outside before walking out.

the blustering of infuriated footsteps would fade out as you followed your boyfriend down the hallway to the front door. connie would sit in waiting, leaning against the headboard, as he contemplated what this meant for the both of you, but those thoughts would be cut short at your return. alone. it turns out, no amount of apologies or promises that this will never happen again could convince your boyfriend to stay. and, though that elated connie more than he cared to admit, he couldn’t help the lump forming in his throat at the sight of your slumped posture as you sandwiched your lip between your teeth, swallowing pained tears. that lump would block any sly comments he planned to make. in fact, he wouldn’t even speak as he got up to walk to you, hands reaching to pull you closer to him. even as you pushed him away,

”leave me alone”, you chided, quietly. but, no matter how hard you pushed, connie would overpower you to pull you into the warmest hug you’d had in months. its warmth would invite your arms to wrap around him, sobs spilling into his bare chest the second your cheek touched it. not once letting go, connie would pull you back into bed, wrap you in the sheets, before comforting you. relief drowned a certain of him as it knew that he had a chance of getting you back. but the part of him that still had its head above water wrestled with guilt; there’s nothing this man wanted for you than happiness, and seeing his hands be the ones to take it away from you pained him.

the commotion of everything numbed you to your environment, so it would be only a few moments before your distraught sobs would reach the ears of the person you wanted to hear them least. small knocks would bring yours and connie’s attention to the half-open door, and you’d try to get yourself together, but there was only so much you could do to hide the shadows of sorrow reddening your eyes, and creating darkened splotches on connie’s shirt. as soon as you saw your daughter reach up to comfort you, you’d climb off the bed and hug her, feeling your heart start to glue back together when she wiped a tear off your face. both you and connie would instruct her to wait for you in the living room and you’d begin getting dressed properly once you’d hear her run off excitedly.

the both of you would get dressed, and walk down the stairs, in silence. the most connie would provide would be an arm around your shoulder, and a kiss to your temple, which you accepted happily. and, as soon as you were within an earshot of the living room, you’d hear ’the little mermaid’ playing for the nth time, accompanied by the usual harmonisations provided by your daughter’s jovial singing. you’d be admiring the blankets, cushions, and snacks she had set up before you’d be distracted by the rustling of connie putting his shoes and coat on. every fibre of your being would beg you to stop him, but you’d try and convince yourself that he probably had somewhere to be. however, such considerations meant nothing to your hand that was already reaching to grab at his own,

”stay.”, you asked quietly, and his eyes would widen at the request. of course he wanted to stay, but he didn’t think you’d want to spend another minute around the man who had just ruined your relationship. but then once your daughter ran up to him, pouting while asking,

”please~”, his decision would be made for him.

as you watched the movie, you’d notice connie’s eyes fixated on you. at first you thought he was watching your daughter wave her little mermaid doll around but, when you’d turn to check, you’d be met with direct eye contact. his lips would fall agape only to meet again, before they’d open to allow their owner to mouth a belated apology,

”i’m sorry”, his swollen lips would trace out, and a forgiving ”it’s okay” would be mouthed by your own lips. there’d a second where you’d just be staring at each other in mutual love and understanding. it was obvious that this chapter wasn’t finished, not when the authors holding the pens had changed immensely since the day the first page of the book had been written. but small hands would rise to push your faces to face the screen, and connie’s own inability to forgive himself for his actions would shift his eyes to the floor. that’s when they’d narrow in on the slippers that did nothing but breed insecurity. a small voice in his head would ask him if they still felt hard to fill, and admittedly, they still did. yet, looking at them again, he didn’t mind that. though the future still held uncertainties, the feeling of you and your daughter leaning on him, as his arm reached around to embrace you both, filled the gaps of himself he had lost confidence in. because this was all he had ever wanted; to become a person that could be leant on by the people he cared for most. both of you. for as long as his lungs held breath, and for as long as the image of you and your child falling asleep on him every night, was the only one his subconscious could conjure up when his head met his pillow at the end of every day.

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[nanaminsmoon]

the last one??😭😭

armin dump ‼️

[nanaminsmoon]

Good morning!!!! I love your blog so much!!!!💗🫶🏾 Your writing is amazing???

Baby daddy Choso????

thank you so much!!! but thanks for requesting this fren bc i love this so much🤭

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving), choking (f+m receiving), spit kink, choso calls reader; 'baby' and 'baby girl', this man is a masochist lowkey, yeah this is a lil nasty

wc: 3858

your twins loved their dad; excited feet would scamper their way to your bedroom, three hours earlier than usual, every friday because they knew it’d be the day they’d see him. and you guys had a routine: you got them ready in the morning, took them to school, then choso’d pick them up, and they'd be his for the weekend.

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and, during those 48 hours, there was no beach far enough, nor park busy enough, for choso because he would take his girls wherever they wanted to go. every week, pinkie promises to not tell you about staying up later than rules would allow were made between the trio. then, come sunday morning, the girls would be impatiently jumping into your arms, as soon as you opened your door—usually with some playful change in their appearances. yet this particular one would cause your forehead to crease in confusion,

”what's on my daughter's face?”, you’d ask, once the girls were of earshot. immediately, choso knew what you were talking about but he’d play dumb just to irk you.

”eyes, eyelashes, eyebro—”, he’d start listing, and you’d interrupt him.

”no, dickhead, the thing over her nose”, you clarified and he’d inwardly rejoice at his success at annoying you.

”oh. she saw my tattoo and said she wanted one, so i just got her a little temporary one”, he’d explain, eyes trained on the twins as he waved back at them while they ran around the house.

”and when she wants it for real?”, you’d poke at his chest, and his hand would rise to hold the spot your fingertip had touched as he faked a pained expression.

”i don't know how reckless you think i am, but i'm not gonna tattoo a six year old”, he’d scoff, but his amusement would fall to flatten quite quickly.

as hard as choso tried to fan the hurt fogging his mind, it just wouldn’t leave him. choso could be denounced for his work over, and over, again and he’d bounce back because he was so confident and sure of his abilities. but jabs at his skills as a father never failed to pinch at his heart. people would spend an hour with him, then start to question his parenting abilities based off the way he looked and his reserved manner. the prickling in his chest didn’t come from insecurity, but from sensitivity to reminders of the same baseless assumption. especially coming from someone he deemed to be the perfect parent,

”why do you keep doing that?”, he’d look at you earnestly, and confusion would force your eyebrows together.

”doing what?”,

”making me out to be this bad influence.”,

”maybe it’s because you run around with cancer sticks behind your ears”, you pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and shoved it in his pocket.

”aside from that. you treat me like i'm gonna corrupt the girls.”, he paused, ”you treat me the way your parents treated me”, due to his appearance and impassive demeanour, most people around you had opposed your relationship with choso. your friends warned he’d be a terrible father, and your parents mistook how reserved he was for coldness, and arrogance. outwardly, he seemed inattentive, rude, and aloof but choso didn’t care because the most important people in his life understood him. he was his daughters’ best friend, protector, and joint number one on their list of favourite princesses to join their tea parties—the other being you.

no matter how many years passed, you’d always love choso. though you weren’t together anymore, the need to defend him against those who misunderstood him had never dissipated. so to hear that you had become one of the people you had spent almost a decade trying to quieten, lunged your heart into your throat.

”choso, i'm so sorry. i didn't know i was being—”, you’d start to apologise, but you’d be quickly interrupted. penitence sunk all your features in a way choso couldn’t ignore; he knew you had no malintent with your words, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.

”nah, it's cool.”, he waved you off, ”i get it, but you know me. you know i love them to death and i'd never encourage anything that i knew would hurt them. but anyways, i guess i'll go now, i'll see you on frida—”, he’d been stood in the doorway and, as he began to step backwards to leave, your hands would clasp one of his. he’d be visibly surprised, but his feet would still be ladened to their spot.

”let me make it up to you”, you'd propose, and intrigue would raise choso’s eyebrow.

you’d always known there were benefits to your best friend being your neighbour, and today would be the day you’d reap one of them. after instructing choso to sit and wait on the couch, you’d gather the girls’ stuff and take them next door. you’d come back to choso still sat where you had left him, legs spread and large hand dwarfing his phone. the urge to jump on his dick right then and there was stronger than you would’ve liked, but you’d keep composed. even under his fervent glare as he watched you take your shoes off. there’d be a moment of waiting once your eyes met, then you’d beckon for him to follow you. choso’s curiosity was eating away at him, but if there’s one thing he had learnt during your time together it was that he was not to question your plans. even as he realised you were leading him to your bedroom, he’d just scoff to himself and continue trailing you.

once at the door, you’d open it and hold it for him to go in. and, chuckling, he’d enter the room, chills already running down his spine at the way those four walls boxed him into your scent, and swathed him in it. his back being turned to you allowed choso to shamelessly close his eyes, and take it all in. he’d only be brought back to reality by the clicking of the door lock.

”the fuck are you doing?”, he laughed as he turned around.

”making it up to you, now sit.”, he'd raise his hands in surrender, before he’d sit on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed as he watched you saunter your way towards him.

one thing led to another, and you went from kissing and licking at choso's bulge through his boxers to having his dick throat deep inside you. during your relationship, head had been one of choso’s favourite things. he’d even claimed that, had your pussy not been so good, he’d like head more than sex. there were never enough words to explain it but, to him, there was nothing that drove him crazier than the sight of your eyelashes batting up at him as you took all of him into your mouth, nose tickling his pelvic bone. and, busy with his tattoo studio, choso didn't have a lot of time to date so he couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman's throat enclose around his tip the way yours did. his toes were damn near gripping at the carpet through his socks, as his fingers dug into the duvet. though their one wish was to be entangled in your tresses, scratching at your scalp when you swallowed around him, choso hadn’t forgotten that the reason you had asked him to drop the girls off two hours later than usual, was because you were getting your hair done. so he'd refrain for an entire two seconds, fingers contracting around nothing, before he'd just ask,

”can i put—fuck—my hands in your h—shit, y/n—hair”. and another low ’shit’ would leave his lips when you'd pull him out of your mouth to show him the lewd mix of your saliva and his precum leaking out your lips.

”’f you fuck it up, then you gotta pay for me to get it redone”, you tilted your head to run his length against you lips, and choso’s hands were on your head immediately.

”yes, ma’am”, he moaned out.

though you had been broken up for five years, the mutual sexual attraction between you two had never dwindled, so you two fucking post-breakup was inevitable. that being said, choso hadn't nutted in you in almost two years and he didn’t want the first time in 24 months to be in your mouth. that’s what his heart wanted, but his body would have other plans. head wasn’t just about the feeling for choso, the man loved a performance. knowing this, you’d pull him out of your mouth to allow a string of spit and precum hang from your lips, letting it land on his length again just so you could use it as lube to stroke him a few more times.

”you can’t do shit like that, y/n, i’ll nu—”, his strained voice tried to explain, but it’d be cut short by more of your antics. one second your lips would be around his balls, then the next they'd be damn near touching his pelvic bone, as you took him into your throat again. he'd raise his hand to place it on your forehead,

”w-wait, y/n i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuckfuck—baby, wait i'm gonna cum”, he'd warn, but you'd just take that as a signal to keep hallowing your cheeks and taking him into your throat. the pleasure delayed his reflexes, so choso wouldn’t be fast enough in pulling his dick from your mouth; most of his nut would be inside it and, as you let his dick slip from your lips, he’d get some on your cheek, chin and nose too. the tip of your middle finger would collect some of it, and put it in your mouth, eyes locked with his as you did so.

”i forgot how fucking nasty you are”, he'd chuckle before flopping backwards to face the ceiling, as he just laid on his back.

choso’s love for head wasn’t limited to just receiving, because one of his life’s finest pleasures resided between your legs.

”i just need to get you ready f’r me, baby”, would be his response when you told him he didn’t need to reciprocate. but the truth was, choso luxuriated in the way you grabbed at his hair and closed your thighs around his head—the near suffocation was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. he loved the way your body didn't know what to do with itself, squirming underneath the cold metal of his tongue, and lip, piercing. yet, nothing could dethrone the way the warmth of your thighs taking away all his air made his dick twitch. he'd enjoy the gratifying discomfort they brought, before he'd force your legs open again,

”you taste so fucking good, baby, i don't know how i went without this for so long”, he'd say when he came back up for a breath. his fingertips would dig into your thighs as he placed your legs on his shoulders. fingertips would soon be substituted for large palms, as choso pushed the flesh together to basically cut off his air supply. it felt sick to admit, but he loved the feeling of you essentially choking him out.

choso hadn't intended on eating you out until you came, but once he’d started, he couldn't stop. he’d lost track of time and then, all of a sudden, the feeling of your nails on his scalp was harsher. and if he wasn’t relishing in the feeling, eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment, he might’ve noticed that you were about cum a lot sooner. but he’d only catch on when your babbles became more coherent,

”chos-so, i'm-m cumming, shit”, you'd say, and when his brain finally processed those words, it'd be too late because he'd have your release all over him.

for a few moments, the only sounds audible in your room were your heavy breathing and the sound of choso licking your arousal off his fingers. the glisten of the inside of your thighs would catch his attention, and he’d move to remove them of their shimmer. the feeling of the metal on your skin would coax a jolt out of you, before you’d be backing away from his mouth to sit up and face him. the man looked depraved; hair a mess, and face shining, as he just smirked at you.

the shirt covering your top half would be off, as well as choso’s shirt and boxers. and, seeing your bare body for the first time in years was having visible effects on choso—he was stunned.

”wow”, he said, in a whisper, reaching to hold you but you’d pushed his shoulder.

”what?”, you giggled, and he just shook his head so as to not make you feel embarrassed.

”no, i just…i forgot how beautiful you are”,

”shut up, bruh”, you'd playfully roll your eyes, before pulling at choso’s arm to switch your positions. his interest would be piqued yet again, and you'd quell it with a sloppy kiss to his lips. you’d mount choso to sit at the bottom of his abdomen, and his hands landed on your hips. they'd help you ride the ridges of his toned stomach, taking note of how you moaned into his mouth as your juices smeared all over his lower torso.

you'd soon shift yourself, sliding down his length and choso wouldn’t be able to see much of it because his eyes rolled to shut once he felt you wrap around him. hands placed on his broad chest, you'd move up and down on him and his tatted fingers would dig into your hips. choso’s pleasure was visceral, and he almost wanted it to stop before he got too attached and refused to let it end as he had many times before. when you and choso fucked, you did so for hours because you were both relentless. yet, as good as this felt, choso was ashamed to admit that something was missing.

”this is all for me, right?”, he'd ask breathily, hands stilling you. it’d be hard to formulate thought, because you were just paused with his dick deep inside you. but you'd manage a shabby attempt at a nod.

”well, can you…”, choso’d pause, eyes wandering around the bed, and his uncertainty would make you anxious. when it came to sex, you two had always been honest, and open to try anything. so if it made him cautious, then it was one of two things; something he’d been wanting for a while, or something completely left field.

“could you choke me?”, he'd ask, and your once lidded eyes would be widely staring back at him.

”like…?”, you'd raise your hand, and both of his would engulf it, leading it to his neck.

”this.”, he looked you in your eyes, and your hand grew firmer, ”and just keep it there”, he'd instruct, and you'd nod, before starting to move again.

though new to you, you began seeing the appeal of choking choso very quickly. mainly because of the way his eyelids would flutter, as his eyes rolled to shut, just by virtue of feeling your hand on his neck. not to mention the way his hips would move on their own to rut into you, every time your thumb and middle finger tightened around his throat. he may have been larger than you in stature, but choso was completely under your control. both the tightness of your walls, and the feeling of your hand around his neck—sweat making it hard for you to move while maintaining a secure grip on him—was making him delirious. and he never wanted it to stop.

choso's mouth was making any noise it could muster to express how good he was feeling. he went from quietly cursing under his breath, to just shouting cuss words at you. you weren't far from your nut either; due to both the view and the way his dick’s chase for more pleasure, made choso fuck into you harder. the feeling made your thighs weaken but, ultimately, choso would be the first to let go,

”where d’you want it?”, he asked, and your hand would remain on his neck as you leaned down to speak to him.

”nut in me, choso”, you’d whine, lips latching onto his neck to kiss it. the combination of the sultriness of your voice and your lips attacking the most sensitive spot on his neck, would’ve been enough but choso completely lost it when he’d feel a sting as you marked his skin. he'd cum underneath you, hips stuttering upwards to prolong the pleasure he was feeling. all choso could do was cuss, and dig his trimmed fingernails into you before just laying there, a shell of his former self.

you'd be riding him for a few more minutes, before choso’s control of his limbs would return to him, then he’d have you laid underneath him. no further words would be exchanged before he was slamming into you, silver chains dangling in your face and his hand on your throat, as he fucked you with vigor. as amazing as the opposite had felt, choso much preferred this version of things. he preferred looking down at you as your eyes fluttered and rimmed with salty displays of euphoria, he’d even lean down to lick one as it ran down the side of your cheek. choso indulged in the way you'd grab his forearm as strong as you could, sanguine crescents colouring in the empty spaces in his tattoos. he'd lean down to suck on your nipples, nipping at them just so he could hear the raising in pitch your moans and whines would do when that sensation coursed through you. his eyes would flicker down to the white froth collecting at the base of his dick, as his nut was pushed out of you with his every thrust.

”you're doing this all for me, right?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod, ”this fucked out all for me. taking this dick so good just for me”, he'd say, lips once again around your nipples.

choso wasn't letting up; his pace was merciless, as he fucked you dumb. most times you had fucked, choso would slow down, or pull out, when that familiar constriction of your walls told him you were close. he'd do it until you were crying and begging underneath him, voice growing excrutiatingly hoarse. but, seeing as you already had tears in your eyes, he'd only do it once before he'd just maintain a harsh rhythm as you came around him.

”choso, fffuck”, you cried out, but he'd just keep going. his eyes were so focused on the silhouette of his dick moving in and out of you, as your stomach contracted, that he'd lost all sight of where he was. you could've told choso he was jupiter and the man would've believed you. he couldn't even remember why you guys had started fucking in the first place, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. to choso, thinking about anything that wasn’t you was a waste of brain power. so he'd turn his brain off and let his body do whatever it wanted to. even if it meant overstimulation for the both of you.

your third nut would be pretty imminent, seeing as choso literally would not stop moving inside of you. but it'd be unlike the others,

”choso, g-gimme a s-second”, you'd say, and he'd shake his head because he knew what you were doing. choso knew your body, and he knew it well; he knew what you were trying to prevent well enough to know that it was the very thing he was striving for,

”you said you doing all this for me, baby.”, he'd remind you, ”’nd i wanna see you make a fucking mess on my dick.”, his words would do nothing but edge you closer to your nut.

”can you do that f’r me?”, he’d ask, and you’d nod your head.

”just f’r me?”, he’d ask, voice laboured, ”i don’t deserve you, baby”, he’d pout before moving down to connect your lips.

and, under his instruction, you’d just let that funny little feeling near your bladder do whatever it wanted to. one of your hands would be struggling to wrap around choso’s wrist, while the other would be gripping the sheets for dear life. the hand choso had placed on your neck would remain stagnant, movement only reserved for the other as it moved to your clit. worries about you moving because of how fast, and hard, he was fucking you were nonexistent because the sweat covering your body meant that you were adhered to the fabric underneath you. choso's tatted fingers would rub on your bud until you came on them, practically spraying him with your release.

a low chuckle would leave choso's mouth at the endearing view of you trying to calm your body down. heavy breaths would slither past your lips, but your eyes remained closed. choso’s hand would plant a light slap to your cheek to wake you back up, but it'd be to no avail. so he’d try once more, this time, grabbing your chin to shake your face until your eyes opened.

”say ‘ah’, baby girl”, he'd ask, and you'd open your mouth as wide as your slack jaw would allow. a line of spit would fall from his lips to your tongue before you'd swallow it, and he'd smirk to himself.

”didn’t even have to tell you what to do”, he’d snicker, and you’d smile contently up at him. the woman choso was seeing was so unlike the one he had met so many years ago, and he dreaded to think that the sweet glint in your eyes had bittered because of him. however, that dread would quickly fade and, in its place, would be a knowing smirk,

”shit, maybe i am a bad influence.”

[nanaminsmoon]

5 minutes ~ e.jaegar x goodgirl!reader. mdni. 18+

a/n: i hate the ending for this one, but if i didn't post it now then it'd be in my drafts for years so she had to go lol.

wc: 2976 + not proofread properly.

the saying ‘opposites attract’ was coined for you and eren, with him being the night to your day. he represented the dark cesspools of society that your parents had raised you to stay very weary of. in fact, if there was a textbook definition for the type of boy you’d been warned to stay far, far away from, beside it would be a collage of eren’s mugshots. but first meetings with no knowledge of each other’s histories was the intersection of the paths you’d always considered to be parallel; perhaps walking beside each other, but never converging. and their merging would be caused by the fateful day you crossed the authoritarian line your parents had drawn very boldly since you were very young.

the magnetic field surrounding the young man had been unbeknownst to you, but he was the south to your north pole, reeling you in all night until you inevitably met in the midst of the crowd of moving bodies. you’d been second-guessing your decision to agree to attend ymir’s party with your friends, but any dubious thought in your mind dispersed the second your eyes met eren’s lidded ones. even with the dimmed lighting, you could sense them scanning you—leaving blazing traces of want in their wake. you’d hoped the embarrassment boiling inside of you wasn’t obvious, but it had set your body alight—its heat emanating off your figure to waft into eren’s smug face.

if ‘trouble’ had a look, and smell, it would be eren. it’d have his face—inviting yet seemingly cunning, and unreadable in its arrangement of his perfect features. it’d possess his ability to send a militia of chills up your spine the same way too—unsettlement marching up your spine at the potent smell of cigarette smoke, cologne, and whatever alcohol was in that red solo cup. magnetism brewed in eren’s chest, traversing through his bloodstream to reach the point of his fingertips that lightly traced the exposed skin on your arm. once it’d transfer to you, glances were no longer stolen, and neither were dances—both were given freely. and, alongside the pair, would go your moral compass, making you unrecognisable even to yourself as you moved with him—your ass pushing into his growing bulge. the heat transferring at the point where your bodies met would cancel out that of his burning gaze on you. that and his feverish hands grabbing onto your hips, catching everything you threw back on him. all the while, a cigarette would sit comfortably between his lips, grey smoke slipping past it to escape his mouth every time he groaned at the feeling of you brushing against him.

the newfound courage cloaked you, blurring your presence in the crowd of moving figures thus making it impossible for your friends to find you. sense regained, they stood at the door all ready to go home, but ‘home’ hadn’t been a thought in your mind since the smoke eren blew into your mouth, ascended into your brain to cloud your sense of better judgment. there would be a moment where your eyes would dart to them as they beckoned for you to join them, but eren would catch on quickly. and his fingers, hugging his cigarette between them, would wrap themselves around your chin as they turned you to face him,

“gimme 5 more minutes”, his cheek would be against yours as he spoke into your ear, and you’d nod like a fool as he smiled at you and took your hand in his, leading you upstairs.

and five minutes is all it’d take for the barrier holding back your tears to collapse unceremoniously, making way for the stream to coat the pillow cases of ymir’s parents’ bed. the combination of your wanton desperation, pleasure, and makeup would stain the material pressed up against your face—adhering it to your moist skin in a way that made your conscience pulsate with guilt. but the once clear-cut lines on your morality would fade with every collision of eren’s skin against yours. the moments leading up to this position had gotten you used to the way eren’s fingertips dug into your hips and, though similar to that of when you were dancing together, this time he could clearly see the way your flesh recoiled when your skin met his. finally, he could clearly hear the small, squeals leaving your mouth as his dick bullied its way in and out of you, leaving you a fucked out, dishevelled shell of yourself. and that shell that would soon be filled to the point of leakage when your walls tightening around him, unexpectedly stole eren’s release from him. and, somehow, five minutes would turn into two hours, until you were both dragged back into reality by heavy knocks on the door.

call it naivety, or wishful thinking that your actions would never catch up to you, but you had expected to never see eren ever again after that night. but the following months would be spent interweaved in each other. labels weren’t yet decided, so they changed depending on the day; on random evenings, you were eren’s alibi—voice shaking as you lied for him, assuring his parole officer that you’d been watching movies together when, in reality, you hadn’t even known where he was. and, on saturdays, your lap served as his most comfortable pillow as the incomprehensible words you read from your favourite book fell onto his face from above him.

but skipped classes, and unexplainable disappearances meant you soon found yourself under heavy surveillance. from being driven to and from uni, to not being allowed to meet friends, and being basically trapped in your home. the joy shared between eren and yourself had been for you two only. seemingly, the portions hadn’t been distributed evenly meaning that your friends and family sat with plates full of disdain and worry, prepared for a boy they didn’t even know. all they saw of eren was his effect on you; increased callousness, tanking grades, and constant escapades that rendered you a ghost floating in and out of their lives. and soon there’d be a fury-fuelled war waged between two sides; one side that hated eren for ruining you, and the other that hated your family for taking you from his grasp just as he was about to pull you from heaven into his unprincipled clutches.

unfortunately for your friends and family, armageddon couldn’t stop eren from trying to reach you. no matter how many times you denied him, he’d try his luck at getting to you through any means necessary; he’d call you, text at stupid hours of the night asking you sneak out, this boy even disguised himself as a delivery driver just to see you. but every single advance was (very reluctantly!) declined; calls rejected, texts ignored, and, after gathering yourself, you’d tell him that you hadn’t ordered anything and he had the wrong house. bottom lip in between your teeth, to combat the tears hanging over your waterline, you’d closed the door, taken a deep breath, before making your way upstairs to text him an essay of an apology.

that day, you forbode eren from coming to you but, as anyone who knew eren would tell you, he’d never been good at following instructions. so you’d be doing your uni work, when you’d hear loud ass music playing outside. expecting more self-control from eren, there wouldn’t even be a second where you thought it’d be him. even when incessant honking began, you’d ignore it and continue trying to replenish your plummeting gpa. and you’d succeed at keeping focused. until you heard a small knock on your door.

“y/n, you know that guy?”, your brother asked you.

“what guy?”, a finger pointing to the window would be your brother’s answer. and your limbs would freeze at the sight of the black hellcat outside, but they’d be quick in moving you once you saw eren’s car door start to open. by the time you opened your front door, eren was walking up your driveway and his determined gaze would soften once it landed on you. that was before he saw the frustrated presentation of your features as you marched towards him, then he’d just chuckle at you. both hands flat on his back, you’d push eren back to his car as he laughed and questioned you. but he’d get no answers until you shoved him against the car—his back facing your house—and started lecturing him,

“why are you here?”, you’d chide through clenched teeth.

“what, i can’t come see you?”, he’d ask, leaning on his car and reaching for your hand. stress would have you moving your hands from his own, as you rolled your eyes at him.

“not at my family home, eren, no!”, you’d let out an exasperated sigh, “are you out of your damn mind?! coming here and making all this noise, just because you ‘want to see me’?”,

“i miss us, y/n”, he’d say, eyes flittering all over your face as they examined your vexed expression. at this point, the anger was just a shield protecting you from his words because you knew that as soon as they penetrated your skin to enter your heart, you’d fold like a damn lawn chair. and, opportunistic as he was, eren would take the time you spent processing his confession as a chance to get sit his fingertips, one-by-one, on your hips. too deep in thought, you’d have no time to react before he pulled you closer to him.

“not now, eren.”, you’d instruct, placing your hands on top of his.

“you ain’t miss me?”, he’d tilt his head.

pretending not to want eren did nothing but spur him on. mainly because he knew that there was a mutual longing keeping you two connected. as harsh as you tried to be, eren could feel your internal conflict in your movements—the sour irritation in your words was no match for the way your body instinctually yielded to his touch. it’d be still as eren’s arms enveloped you, his heart joyous at the feeling of your body weight slowly increasing—your every appendage relaxing onto him. naturally, he’d grow smug and pull back to slyly observe the way he knew you’d chase his lips, just like every other time he stopped kissing you, and he’d grin to himself.

“i did, but not here.”, you’d shake your head, “not like this”, you’d say. and, in a successful attempt to still your head, eren’s hands would cup your cheeks before he gently pressed his lips against yours. there’d be a split second where your body would try and move you away from him but, as soon as his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, you’d neglect your surroundings—hands massaging the back of his neck, as you pulled him closer.

“why not?”, he’d ask, quietly. his fervid gaze possessed enough heat to turn you into a patch of liquid, very similar to the one in the front of your underwear. and, though composure wouldn’t come easy to you, you’d grapple for it anyways, moving from him and ignoring the smirk on his face as he watched you.

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“you know why, now get off me before i scream and get the police called on your dumbass”, the feigned innocence would break and eren would outright laugh at your threat. enthralled eyes would watch the joy spread all over his face, the feeling contagious as you slowly felt the corners of your lips rise. that’d be before you realised where you were, and quickly moved your hand to cover his mouth to muffle the bellowing sound.

“i wouldn’t mind hearing you scream.”, he’d say after removing your hand from his face, “it’d make driving here worth it.”, he teased. and, once again, you’d be falling into his deep green eyes, beguiled by his intoxicating gaze. reminders of reality would only come when a quick flicker of your eyes to the building behind eren’s car revealed your front door opening. equally as curious as the young boy stood at the door, eren would turn but you’d quickly shoo your brother back inside, originally aiming to follow him.

“just gimme 5 minutes”, a low voice would ask, stopping you in your tracks. eren’s recklessness always seemed to rub off on you. perhaps remnants of it latched onto you when he held you close to himself, or maybe his lips spoke it to you as he kissed you. but, without fail, it’d rid you of everything you thought you knew about yourself. and it’d also have you following him into the backseat of his car.

though it was never expressed to you, you were just as much of a forbidden fruit for eren as he was for you. a chair occupied by thoughts of your chaste nature had anxiously sat in his heart, as the thought of his sodden fingerprints being the ones to pervert you spun around his mind. that was until eren placed your hands on the back of said chair, bending you over it and making his peace with sending you back to your parents with his depraved handprints, and debauched lip prints singed all over your body. forbidden as you may have been, eren couldn’t get enough of you. you were a banned berry that he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into, letting the taste of you reside in every corner of his mouth—your juices slipping out of the corners of his lips as you squirmed, and scratched at his leather seats. no more than a few minutes passed with you on eren’s lap, his lips busy marking your neck and chest—any regard for your parents’ reactions was absolved the moment your fingers intertwined at his nape to lightly tug at his hair. the only thought on his mind for weeks had been the taste of you, so he’d wasted no time in moving his lips from you and laying you flat on your back on his backseats. and your comprehension of any moment that followed that was wiped out by the tsunami of pleasure that flooded your conscious mind, as well as the white flash that accompanied it stealing your vision. the last thing you remembered was eren’s eyes—locked on yours—as his teeth plucked at your panties, pulling them down your thighs.

for most, self-reflection would be triggered by the fact that their partner’s friends and family hated them with a scorching passion, but not eren. he welcomed the scrutiny with open arms because, as toxic as it sounded, he had learned to love being a terrible influence. he luxuriated in being the guy your friends begged you to leave, those conversations always ending in teary arguments wherein you’d have to fight to justify your want for him. he loved knowing that even as every mouth around you told you to stay far away from him, his devious one always brought you right back. that, sweet as you were, you were addicted to the nasty way he fucked you; bent over in his car, or anywhere he could hide you from prying eyes. and the fact that, with every load he filled you with, droplets of his identity had been inserted into you with all of them being preserved perfectly, with not an ounce of alteration. whether that be his attitude, or his need to fuck the sanity out of you, you resembled eren more and more with every connection of his tip and your cervix. slowly, your vocabulary had matured to match his and you had started using words he’d never expect to hear from such a pretty, innocent-looking face,

“ffuck, i’ve missed this dick so much, eren”, you’d keened, ridding eren of any rational thought. his hips would hasten on their own at the sound of your lascivious wording, deepening every breath your lungs fought to take. and, as good as you felt, corrupting a good girl had never been something eren had wanted to do. usually, he liked his girls experienced, but you had a charm about you.

he liked the way your eyes glimmered at him as he spoke to you, and the adorable way you remembered small details about him. after a while, he began enjoying the way he was disintegrating every single value your parents had instilled in you, as well as you just letting him. but no more than the way you moaned his name, and made lust-filled promises that disgraced the parents who had worked so hard to raise you,

“i’m all yours, ‘ren, i belong to nobody but you”, you’d cried out, and he’d gently kiss your cheek. the romantic work of his lips, was in direct opposition to the cruel way his dick hit that spongy spot inside you, coaxing your release from you and refusing to stop.

“i know, baby, you ain’t gotta tell me. i know. you’re all mine, and can’t nobody do shit about it.”, he'd reply. and he was right. because, as long as he made you feel the way he did, eren was untouchable. whether that be for 5 minutes, or for the rest of your life.

[nanaminsmoon]

gojo satoru x thickthighed!reader. (mdni.)

(inspired by when i went out without shorts under my skirt last week, and regretted it immediately😭)

wc: 950

the colour of his irises would practically project on every inch of the room, with how wide satoru’s eyes opened at the sight of you putting on a pair of black cycling shorts under your dress. too busy looking at your reflection, you were none the wiser to your boyfriend’s extreme reaction to you getting ready for your picnic date. even as he’d lean against the doorframe, and examine the dress from afar; confusion growing when you’d let it fall, and the hem of it kissed the top of your ankles. he’d assume you were just doing it for comfort, but his curiosity would make him ask anyways.

”darling~”, he'd hum from behind you, chin rested on your shoulder and hands clasped around your midsection, ”it's so warm outside, won't you be hot with shorts under your dress?”, he'd ask as he kissed your cheeks. looking in the mirror, he’d see you chuckle at his ignorance before you’d turn to face him. your hands would join to intertwine at his nape, and his would rest on your hips.

”you love my thighs don't you?”, you'd ask, moving his bangs from his eyes and satoru would just look at you in confusion.

because that man found any, and every, excuse to touch your thighs and knead at the flesh there. they were his hand warmers, his comfort after a long day, and their warmth was the physical manifestation of the word ‘home’. on either side of his head as he laid watching tv, smothering his hand as he sat next to you, or just exposed as your shorts rode up when you sat, there's nothing satoru loved more than your thighs.

”i love them more than i love myself, yes”, he'd answer, prompting a flattered laugh from you.

”well, if i don't wear these, they'll chafe and it stings and i hate it. baby powder doesn't work, and it's just so uncomfortable, so i have to wear these. especially since we'll be walking from the car to the park”, you said, placing a peck on his lips. satoru would have no reaction, nor usual quip, because his mind was whirring. the cogs in his brain were turning at super speed, thinking of a solution to your problem and he had already picked a favourite.

”you said baby powder didn't work?”, he'd ask and you'd nod back, “well, let's try one more thing”.

an hour and a half after the time you were supposed to have left the house, you were still stood with your hands on your vanity table as satoru fucked you from behind. the tips of his slender fingers dug harsher into you with every thrust, and you could both see and feel his concentration. through his reflection in the mirror, you’d see his snowy eyebrows creasing as they met in the middle and his lips organised in that cute little pout they always formed whenever he was focused on something.

the plan satoru had devised consisted of one phase; fucking load after load into you, until it leaked out to run down your thighs and rid you of the chafing. evidently it wasn't well thought out, but as soon as the little voice in his head had suggested it, the twitching in his boxers wouldn't let him dismiss it. so now he had nutted in you twice, and you’d lost count of how many times you came after the fourth.

originally he had placed you on the vanity table, to sit on it, but the physics of that position bothered him. so he’d moved you to be stood in front of him, because he figured that would allow the nut to slide down your thigh better.

”t-toru, we're gonna b-be lat-te”, you stuttered out. and his azures would momentarily glance up at you to observe your facial expressions, yet his hips wouldn’t stop. but his teeth would relax their grip on his bottom lip and allow him to speak,

”i know, baby, but my plan's almost finished”, and, apparently, so was he. because, not too long after he said that, gojo would still inside of you and fill you with his seed. though his sensitivity would have him sucking in a breath, he'd still pull out of you slightly to let his release drip down your plush thigh. he’d spare a second to take in the view, before he’d pull back from your body completely. heavy breaths were still leaving your mouth, as your legs starting giving way underneath you. luckily satoru would catch you, pulling your dress down once he had you against him. once your eyelids gained the strength to actually stay open, you’d look in the mirror to see a proud smile on your boyfriend’s face, before his lips moved to kiss your cheeks. seeing your visible confusion, he’d finally enlighten you,

”now you it won't sting anymore. because they'll be gliding every time you walk”, he'd smile brightly, and you'd roll your eyes at him before reaching to unzip your dress.

”you're disgusting, you know that? go run me a bath”, you'd sigh out, grimacing at the moisture between your legs. though disheartened by your reaction to his self-proclaimed genius, satoru would pull his boxers up, and raise his hand in a salute,

”yes, ma’am”, he’d say, placing an apologetic kiss on your lips before scurrying to the bathroom to do as you said.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

ugh i need him so bad😞

stiletto’s

summary: basketball player!ony unknowingly gave his teammates a sneak peak of what life was like at home with you…

cw: smut, back scratching, cuts, mentions of blood/bleeding, ony picking on underclassmen

word count: 1.3k

“fuck man what happened t’you?”

the chuckles and gasps of his teammates made ony’s face full with confusion as he turned around from his locker. they had just finished a hard practice, the events from the past three hours leaving each of the men with glistening wet bodies as they cooled off and changed into their regular clothes.

for some reason, ony’s back has been acquiring a slight sting as the drills got more and more intense. constant sentences of “you good o?” and “do you need to see a trainer” were thrown his way by his coaches as everyone watched the star basketball player’s body move uncomfortably in his practice jersey.

“i’m good coach, jersey just scratchin me a lil” he replied before continuing on with his workout, ignoring the prickly pain for the remainder of the practice.

as he reached the locker room, ony made quick work of removing his “itchy jersey”, sighing as his back was instantly relieved from any discomfort. his sigh brought the attention of the second captain, and his good friend, eren.

“fuck man, what happened t’you” he chuckled, drawing attention towards the head captain as the rest of his teammates began to laugh. “ooouu”’s and “oh shit”’s began to be released all over the locker room as ony just stared at everyone in confusion. “fuck y’all laughing at?” he mumbled, a smirk growing on his face as he turned around fully to see what was funny. “you look like you got attacked by some typa animal or sum” one of his teammates said, making the darkskin male even more confused as he looked himself over repeatedly.

“what you mean, i’m bleeding or sum?” as he spoke, his dark eyes raked up and down his front, checking his arms and the back of his legs as well to try to understand what they were talking about. eren rolled his eyes in annoyance, grabbing his friend by the shoulders before walking him towards the toilets. “look bro” he mumbled before turning ony’s back towards the mirror for him to see.

his jaw nearly touched the ground as ony realized the reason for his pain earlier. there were scratches on top of scratches all over his back. the red, wounded skin probably getting irritated by his sweat and the feeling of his jersey rubbing against it during the practice. “oh shit” he mumbled, earning laughs all around the room as he looked at the different marks he had. “ion know if i should be happy or concerned furreal. i just know your girl be fighting for her life”

ony rolled his eyes at his friends comment, lightly punching his chest before making his way back to his locker to finish changing. “man that girl is fine. and for the three little niggas in the back that think ion know you be in her dms, talking about how you ‘don’t understand what she see’ in me.” as he spoke, he made sure to make direct eye contact with the three freshman boys that have been going to war in your dms, the three of them staring back at him with wide eyes as they tried to hide behind each other. ony just smirked, his pearly white teeth making an appearance as he continued on with his statement.

“let this be a little taste of one of the many things she ‘sees’ in me, and until you get a shorty to see that in you, stay out my wife phone.” the locker room erupted with laughter. some of his fellow upperclassmen clapping while others dapped him up. the younger men gave their friends sorry looks before carrying on with getting dressed, embarrassment running through them. after things began to quiet down ony make quick work of throwing on his nike tech, without a shirt since the tight fit would irritate his back, and his pajama pants before heading towards his car, the previous nights events replaying in his mind as he drove with a smirk.

“ohmygodohmygod i can’ttt!” you whined, your arms wrapped securely around your boyfriends neck as he pounded you into the wall of your bedroom. ony’s wide hands were spread on the bottom of your thighs, his deep voice caressing your ear as he fed you all of his inches. “can’t what mama? can’t watch y’mouth or can’t take this dick?” his hips moved harder, your pretty brown eyes loosing focus as you screamed out at the newfound angle he was fucking you in. your eyes began to water with salty tears as you tried your best to take everything he was giving you, “n-neither.”

ony moved his head from the crook of your neck, giving you a dissatisfied look as he tightened his grip on your thighs. “don’t play wit me….not when i can easily have you like this.” at the sound of his last word, ony pulled your legs up a little higher, opening you up more for him to lightly graze your cervix. you wailed at the feeling, fat tears sliding down your cheeks as you began to run your stiletto nails down his broad back. ony payed the action no mind, hips never faltering as he continued to pound into you. “okay okay okayyyy m’sorry furreal now pa” your quick change in attitude brought a satisfied smirk to your lovers face, his brown lips parting as he brought them back to your neck.

“thas my good girl. you too pretty t’be doin allat cussin, right baby?” your walls fluttered at the sound of his voice. the words sliding off his tongue were like butter and you couldn’t help but reply, your words coming out whiny and broken as you tried your best to hold in your release. “s’r-right daddy” you pushed out, it took all of your focus just to say two words and your boyfriend could tell. by the way you were gripping and scratching his back, squeezing your thighs in his hold, and clenching your walls around him ony could tell that all it took was a couple more thrusts to have you cumming all over him. and since you realized your mistake he had no problem letting you.

ony finished his assault on your neck, his lips leaving dark purple marks all over the sensitive skin as he moved his face towards yours. low brown eyes staring into glassy rolled ones as your man slowly stepped from the wall. he moved towards the bed, never missing a stroke as he laid you down on the silk sheets. he left it to you to wrap your legs around him while he fucked you and you instinctively did so, stoking you deeply at a steady pace. “oh my g- ony m’gonna cum…y-you’re gonna make me cum” your eyes welded at the feeling, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you dug your sharp nails into his back, dragging them down his dark brown skin.

“let me have it ma, cum all on this dick wit that pretty pussy” at his words you broke, tears falling from your eyes as you let everything go. your vision blurred and your body tightened, nothing but broken whines leaving your lips as you came. ony finished at the same time, sinking deeper and deeper into you as he released his hot, sticky ropes into your walls. “thas my good girl”

a devilish smirk was on ony’s face as he drove now, his dick twitching in his pants as he thought of you. the way you’d moan his name, the sight of your pretty eyes practically begging him to give you all he had, the feeling of your milky white stilettos running down his back. ony couldn’t stop himself from picking up his speed as he drove, one hand holding the steering wheel in a tight grip as the other palmed and rubbed his aching dick. he couldn’t wait to get home and do it all again.

[nanaminsmoon]

wasn't gonna post today but then this happened so i had to write something quickly bc i can't get him it out of my mind😭. (mdni. 18+)

letting you find out that he wore nothing underneath that robe had been one of choso’s worst decisions to date. the initial unveiling of that information had been so casual of an incident that he hadn’t even realised its magnitude until he started feeling its ramifications. there had been no ulterior motive behind his walking into your shared bedroom, stripping himself of his outside clothes though, to you, it had seemed otherwise. because ‘chaste’ was no word to describe the way his lidded eyes married themselves to your own while their owner made quick work of laying himself bare at the foot of your shared bed. though you had (barely) played it cool at the time, the sheer thought of choso going about his day with that old ass robe being his only barrier from complete nudity had plagued your every waking moment. your conscious mind’s depraved sickness would seep its way into your bloodstream, travelling through your system at light speed, to infect your entire body. soon you’d be no more than a host body for a lewd parasite, driven by a hyperfixation with your boyfriend’s body. it’d first gain control of your arms, initiating affection in a way that wouldn’t alarm him; back-hugs that’d be corrupted the second you’d feel his toned abdomen through the vintage fabric. then it’d have your hands travelling up his sleeves every time he’d embrace you; fingertips inconspicuously grazing his skin as they made their way to his back, where the flashbacks they’d induce would send shivers through him. still, choso thought nothing of it. it wasn’t until you started purposely brushing your ass against him each and every single time you walked past him, that he realised something was amiss. covert provocation of your usually calm and collected partner lasted all but a few days before you were overtly pushing yourself into his crotch—knowing full well that the lack of obstruction meant he’d feel all of it. but it also meant you felt all of his hardening length the harsher you ‘accidentally’ pressed into him. it’d all be brushed off until one fateful day where you pushed the line far past choso’s patience threshold, and his large hand would be enveloping your neck from behind,

“cut that shit out”, had been said as a warning, but had been interpreted as a challenge to further push the limits and move yourself farther back onto his growing bulge.

“cut what out?”, you’d pouted innocently, shifting your hips to entice more strained groans from choso’s lips. once he’d composed himself, he’d done nothing but chuckle at you. a few moments later, his chiding hand was still on your neck yet it’d serve a different purpose; holding you still as he pounded into you from behind.

“this”, he’d pull out just to slam back into you again, “cut this out”, he’d imitate your previous position, yet with vengeful vigour as he aimed to give you a sour rendition of your own perverted medicine. revenge had never been so rewarding; even despite the harsh way he fucked into you—a feeling that urged your body to move you away from his grasp after every thrust. but every attempt would be denied by choso's speedy reflexes,

“nah, don’t run from me, baby”, those words had escaped the captivity that was his gritted pearly whites, while his grip remained firm as ever, “this is what you wanted, so take it”, he’d sneered. as vindictive as his actions may have seemed, choso's hips weren't powered by anger but by the embarrassment he had faced at not being able to control his body. it was the shame he had felt at not being able to withstand mere brushes to his dick. the fact that his willpower had not been strong enough to keep him together as you teased him for days on end. so much so that he couldn't stop himself from fucking you, even as you both came time and time again. there really had been no malintent behind him choosing to roam around completely bare underneath his robe but, now knowing that these were the consequences of his actions, he wasn't keen on wearing underwear anytime soon.

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

babydaddy!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: so there was meant to be more at the end but it was getting too long, so i'll have to save it for another day...👀but here's more pain ig😁

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, connie calls reader; 'ma', 'dime que eres mía, ma' ('tell me you're mine, ma'), 'y/d/n' = 'your daughter's name', n word usage

wc: 3270 + lazily proofread bc i'm tired but i'll do it tomorrow

within the passing of a few months, connie had reintegrated himself into your lives, and had merged the three of you into the family he had always wanted. the evening that had caused it had ended with connie looking to his side, when you and your daughter’s laughs and mumbles had died down, only to see you both asleep. deciding he couldn't just observe your deep slumber for the rest of the night, he'd cool the warm smile on his face and turn the tv off. then, ensuring his movements were small so as to not disturb you both, he'd move to lift your daughter, before carrying her upstairs. he'd help her sleepily brush her teeth, put her in bed, then peck a goodnight kiss onto her forehead. the muscles in his neck would tense at the thought of leaving you alone, considering the afternoon you had spent together. so you’d wake up to connie carrying you bridal style to the bathroom where he’d sit you on the closed toilet, and help you sleepily brush your teeth, and do your skincare routine. light chuckles would leave his mouth at your drowsy agitation but his hands would remain busy, putting your bonnet on, clothing you in his shirt before, finally, joining you in bed.

that pattern would repeat a few times a week and, soon, seeing connie would no longer be an occasion reserved for fridays and sundays. because, lips pouted and long eyelashes laid comfortably as his eyes shut, connie would the first thing you’d see most mornings a week. soon, your pillow would be replaced by his tatted arm; from the second your eyes blearily shut, to the second the sun peeking through the gaps in your curtains forced them open. frequent visits would see space cleared in your closet and, connie would place a grateful kiss on your temple before filling said space with his clothes. he practically lived with you but, not yet old enough to fully understand her parents’ relationship dynamic, your daughter would be questioning why her dad wasn’t going home, at least once a day.

”we’re just having a sleepover, mama”, you said, hands busy doing her hair for school. luckily, she’d reply with a carefree nod and refocus her attention on her ipad. and, when you’d look over your shoulder, you’d see connie smiling to himself as he placed pancakes on her plate.

to the onlookers at the zoo, seeing your daughter sat on connie’s shoulders with one of his hands on her leg and the other intertwining its fingers with yours, you were a family. the same could be said for those who saw the three of you in matching shoes at the airport, going on a vacation paid for by connie. unbeknownst to them, those onlookers were admiring the wonderfully illustrated cover of a book with empty pages. because, to you, all you were was a question mark succeeding a multitude of questions. pushing someone to define something that seemingly rejected definition reeked of conflict, but the faint smell of heartache was growing in strength and you needed to fan it out before it permeated your home. so, laid on connie’s chest like most nights, you’d push yourself to ask him what had been on your mind for weeks.

”so when are you leaving?”, a small laugh would be added at the end of the question, to avoid sounding confrontational. and the skin pressed up against your cheek would move as a chuckle rumbled underneath it.

”why, you want me to leave?”, connie looked down to you, placing two fingers under your chin to make your lips more accessible to his own. and they’d be connected as you shook your head, in response to his question, before you pulled away to speak again.

”no. it’s just…what do i tell y/d/n when she asks me why daddy lives here now?”, you’d ask. making the questions light-hearted diluted their severity to connie. but when you’d sit up, obviously waiting for an answer, his face would drop slowly.

reality brought questions that connie had no answer to, that’s why he had just chosen to live in a fantasy. over the course of a few months, connie had used all the air in his lungs to inflate a protective bubble that’d shelter the family he’d been fighting to retrieve for years. joy was an emotion specially reserved for when he was with his girls, so his greed to stay joyful grew. in turn, connie never went home. boundaries had never been considered, much less the thought of ever crossing them. but now they were being demanded of him, he’d have to pop the bubble he had made, and face the harsh actualities he dreaded. holding off on what needed to be done did not make the task disappear, it just allowed connie to live like everything was perfect for a little longer.

”you think we could ever get back together?”, he asked, eyes monitoring you closely. his unexpected words pushed a laugh out of your mouth, while also lifting your hand to slap his chest. obviously, you thought connie was joking, but one look at his face would alert you of the opposite.

”you serious?”, your question would make connie pause, before his nod at you sent your heart crashing into your stomach. the weight of it should’ve been enough to anchor you to the bed, but the strength of your shock would overpower it to lift you onto your feet.

a slow dance in your kitchen, to end the candlelit dinner connie had prepared for you, had ended in your bodies being bare as your clothes covered the floor. hence why the first piece of clothing you’d pick up would be connie’s, yet you’d put it on anyways. and, as he put his boxers on, connie would watch your stood form as your face rested in your hands. though his subconscious had tormented him with demos of this very scenario, seeing your reaction in real time wounded connie far more than his nightmares ever had. your reaction had sewn his lips shut, so he’d be tasked with unpicking every stitch helping him swallow his feelings just so he could speak words he had heard many times before but never thought he’d say,

”y/n, what are we?”, your features would gather to form a grimace, before your feet would shift you towards the door. but connie’s hands wouldn’t let you get far, as they’d reach to grab your arm and pull you back to him.

”i’m in love with you, and you know that. that’s why i’m here every damn day, because i want this back”, he pointed between you two, ”i want our family back. i want this to just be normal for us, and for y/d/n to know that i’m not going nowhere”, even if you wanted it to, your head wouldn’t cease its shaking as you listened to connie. his confession confused your heart as much as it embraced it.

”then you shoulda thought about that before you fucked the both of us over”, your mouth worked hard to multitask; speaking your mind, and swallowing your rising tears.

the reason for your separation differed depending on who was asked; connie’s version of events stated that he wasn’t mature enough for you at the time. though you’d agree, you’d also add the fact that you had never felt like he was serious about you. conversations about your future had led to either dead ends or arguments. and, once the baby arrived, the noise of blaring music was more inviting to connie’s ears than the sound of new-born tears. if not him, then you would have to be the one to put you and your child first. many told you to wait it out, but you refused to wait for connie to learn how to prioritise. and his stubborn nature meant that connie would put up an unbothered front, and let you walk out his life.

over time, he settled down and you found that connie could be an amazing father when he wanted to be; he'd buy you a house, and ensure you never had to worry about money by providing you with an allowance. his logic behind it was that, seeing as your daughter was with you most days of the week, he wanted you to worry less about work, and more about mothering your child. changes in his behaviour led your friends and family to urge you to get back together, but you knew that his improvements as a father were not indicative of his improvements as a partner. truth be told, the fear of him fucking shit up again was what kept you away from him. even as he came back to you with his pleading heart on his sleeve, you shut him down and suggested just fucking as friends. complications with that arrangement arose when you fell for him again, but let your ego suppress those feelings. now they were bullying their way out of your heart and you no longer saw a need to stop them.

a small voice in connie’s mind berated him, and reinforced the idea that the reason you could never take him back was because he only existed in your life to pain you; from your breakup, to ruining your new relationships, to inserting himself back into your life without warning. that voice told him that you’d never love him again because he had done nothing to merit receiving affections as pure, and wholly perfect, as yours. and, seeing his actions bring tears to your eyes amplified that voice and he’d pull you closer, hoping that holding you would mean that your pain would seep through the pores in your skin and be absorbed into his body instead. small kisses would be planted on your temple as connie slowly walked backwards to sit on the bed, leaving you stood between his legs.

”i know i fucked up, it haunts me everyday. you shouldna had to wait for me to grow up, but…i’m ready now. i want this more than anything; i want to give y/d/n siblings, i want us to get married, and live together again. i just…need you to give me a chance”, connie’s eyes looked up to project the warmth of their sincerity onto your face, and all you could do was sigh. sure, he was was giving you what you had been wanting to see, and hear, from him for years, but was that enough to wipe out everything that had preceded it?

”a chance to do what?”, you spoke, quietly.

”to prove how much i want this.”, he said, squeezing your hands in pleading. if giving him a chance would cement his behaviour from the last few months, then you really had nothing to lose. it’d make him happy, it’d make your daughter happy and, as much as your ego didn’t want you to admit, it’d make you happy as well. so you’d roll your eyes before nodding at him, and giggling when you saw the small smile gracing his face. it’d rest there for all of two seconds before contorting into something that showed different intentions as he lifted your shirt up.

missing connie was something you hated doing, but making up for lost time was one of your favourite pastimes. so, you’d feign annoyance as you pushed him off, but you’d still be giggling like a schoolgirl as you moved his hands from your body. and, somehow, connie’s head would find its way into your shirt, his lips soon kissing your skin before moving to suck on your nipples. eager hands would take it upon themselves to migrate to the back of connie’s head, keeping his lips against you. and that’d encourage the impatient ones, stuck to your back, to harshly pull you into his deep kisses as he nipped at your navel ever so often. it was shameful how quickly connie made you uncomfortably wet; all it took was a series of wet kisses on your skin, mixed with his fingertips delicately trailing it, to deepen your breathing. but that’d be cut short when connie’s lips detached from you, as he moved out of his your shirt.

”lemme see how beautiful my girl looks”, he said, scrambling to lift the fabric off you. though your hands would help him, your mind would still be caught up on his wording.

”your girl?”, you raised an eyebrow, and he looked up at you in confusion,”you ain’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet”, you hiding your now bare chest, and he’d roll his eyes.

”i ain’t just do that?”, he asked, desperately trying to uncross your arms so he could continue what he was doing.

”what—nigga, no! you gotta ask me”, you said and, as he went to open his mouth, you’d place two fingers on his lips, ”not now, properly. and i know you got money, so use it”, you grinned.

keeping your arms crossed left connie no other choice but to pick you up, and practically throw you on the bed. the sight of your tits bouncing from the recoil of you landing on the messy pillows and sheets, enlarged the growing bulge in his boxers so he’d rid himself of them almost immediately. as always, your expectant silence would be filled by the sound of his dick hitting his stomach. and the angry redness of his tip had you anticipating connie dicking you down until you felt like your internal organs were shifting in location. but, once he was inside you, he’d be moving at an agonisingly slow pace; the harsh prods you had been expecting to meet your cervix, were more akin to amorous pecks. that's because telling you how he felt had never been enough for connie; beit anger, neediness, or jealousy, connie needed you to feel what he was feeling. so, bearing a love for you that was so deep he could feel it in the pits of his stomach, connie wanted to replicate that for you with his dick. he wanted to know that when he pulled out, you’d feel an emptiness somewhat similar to how he felt when he was away from you.

and, as he fucked into you, you could feel it all; his regret for his past actions stretched you out until you were clawing at the skin on his back. the love he never got to give you multiplied with every touch of that spongy spot inside of you, and the words he could never say would be breathed onto your feverish skin. never in your life had you known connie springer to get overstimulated, but here he was; body adhered to your own with sweat, as he cloaked laboured whimpers with painfully honest admissions,

”i just need you so bad, ma. i hate being by myself”, he'd speak into the sticky skin on your shoulders, and comforting hands would be on his nape, massaging it softly. connie had once fooled himself into thinking that the only reason he only ever fucked you in missionary was because it was too boring to try with new people. but the truth was that it created an intimacy he only ever wanted to share with the woman of his dreams. and now that he had her legs wrapped around his waist, and her moistened eyelashes blinking up at him, he’d revel in this intimacy until he physically couldn’t anymore.

that point would seem near when, due to overstimulation and how good you felt, the blissful noises tumbling out of your mouth would raise in volume. quickly catching on, one of connie’s hands would be placed over your mouth to stifle the impending noise sure to fill the room when you came. quick reflexes would mean that connie's name, as well as random expletives, would be chanted repeatedly into the palm of his hand as you came around him. pleasured cries would fade into quiet babbles and, to connie, the fact that you could still will your lips to move meant that you weren't too fucked out to speak to him and, of course, he was wrong.

”dime que eres mía, ma”, connie begged of you. and, if you could form critical thought, you would’ve done so immediately. but anytime a coherent sentence would connect in your mind, the chain of words you had accumulated would be broken by connie’s dick sending you spiralling. yet you'd try anyways,

”i’m-m all yours-s, pa, i p-promise”, you said, and the satisfaction of hearing those words quickened his movements. his hands seemed to be digging deeper into the flesh around your hips because, looking at his dick disappear inside of you only to come out smothered in a mix of your arousals, was all connie could focus on. if it wasn’t rock solid already, that view would've made connie’s dick painfully hard. instead, all it did was make him twitch inside of you, causing him to curse at himself; connie knew what his body could handle, so he knew that one more nut would knock him the fuck out and he wouldn’t be fucking again until morning.

'pissed' did not even begin to describe how that made him feel, because all he wanted was to fuck his love so deep inside you, you’d be seeing love hearts everywhere for months. he needed you to feel how much he cared for you, and he felt like he needed all night to do that. but you two didn't have all night and you seemed to be the only one who cared,

”n-need you t-to nut, pa, i g-got work tom-morrow”, you said, and his eyes would finally look to your face again. ’how did i look away when she looks that fucking good?’, he thought to himself as his hand moved to your cheek. as opposed to when it was gripping your hips, it was loving when it touched the feverish skin on your face. honey was dripping out of connie’s eyes to dribble onto the place you two connected, and he’d fuck his decadent adoration into you over and over again until your eyes rolling back in pleasure sent him over the edge, and his hips stilled,

”fuck, why you so—fuck—pretty?”, his words landed on your stomach as his head bowed. the feeling of connie filling you for the nth time that night tightened your walls around him, and he’d wince at the torturous bliss that gave him, as he tried to catch his breath. he'd do so considerably quicker than you so he'd be the first to move, getting up to get a moist, warm towel to clean you up.

”all mine, yeah?”, he teased and, still working on recovering your thought processes, all you could offer would be a lazy hand shooing him away.

”imma make you mine properly tomorrow when i finally put that second baby in ya.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

onyankopon x blackfem!reader🫶🏾 (mdni.) + wc:1216

'who can do hair?' had been the caption on the ig story that led to ony’s head buried in the space between your legs. with your thighs on either side of his half-done hair, ony had you spread out on the couch as his tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. you in this very position had been the only thing on his mind since the second you opened the door, wafting the smell of vanilla and cocoa butter in his face, as his eyes busied themselves scanning your form. the only coverage of your body had been short ass shorts, and a cropped camisole—both serving no purpose because your nipples would be visible through the thin fabric, and your cheeks would be greeting him with every sway of your hips as you led him to your living room. having your back turned to him gave ony the perfect opportunity to openly look you up and down, a sly smirk spreading on his face when he’d see your painted toes and golden anklet that matched the necklace at the center of your chest.

it was as if, as soon as he saw the jewellery, ony knew that his lips would be meeting the skin next to it, in delicate and languid kisses. like he had already foreseen the image of his trimmed fingernails forming dips in the fat of your thighs, as he pushed them against your chest—the sound of your skin meeting beating his eardrums. ony didn’t know what the final straw had been; maybe it was the smile you had flashed him as you laughed at one of his jokes, maybe it was his direct view of your chest as you stood in front of him, or maybe it had been the glazed look in your eyes when you realised you couldn’t hide his effect on you anymore.

ony had been trailing his fingertips along the backs of your calves, mahogany orbs zeroed in on your face to measure your reaction. all attempts at putting on a cloak of composure failed to cover you from the neck down because, being sat so close you could feel his breath hitting your skin, ony could see everything. he’d take note of the way your chest rose and fell faster, he’d catch onto the way your hand fumbled with the rattail comb in your grip, as you parted his hair, and there was absolutely no way of hiding your goosebumps when his hand would flatten on you, to wrap around the back of your thigh.

“you good?”, a harsh swallow would travel down your throat as you smiled feebly at him. but ony would just shrug.

“i'm chillin’”, he’d shake his head, “just gettin’ comfy”, he'd say, and you’d nod at him before resuming your task on his head.

in the end, his hands ascending to replace the fabric covering your ass would be the thing to grant ony your attention again. it’d also be the thing to force your hand to substitute the comb for his shoulder as you leaned down to meet your lips. somehow that’d land you in ony’s lap, moving on him, before he got fed up and moved you to the couch. everything from then on was a blurry montage of events; one second you’d be lifting your hips from the leather to help him wiggle your shorts down, then your legs would be forced open by his head obstructing their connection. aimless fingers would then be moving over his twists, as the actions of ony’s mouth produced obscene noises that overrode the sound of the tv show you’d put on. it was no wonder you came on his face so quickly, sighing and cussing to yourself as unfettered moans escaped your lips. and ony would make quick work of cleaning you with his mouth, obviously in a rush to appease the hard length underneath his tech.

one of ony’s hands would hold your legs open, and the other would gather your arousal on his tip before pushing into you very slowly. eager fingertips would be underneath your top, digging into your waist as ony’s tip reached deeper inside you with every thrust. one half of the duo that had been challenging his self-control since you opened the door would momentarily be bare, before it’d be hidden in between ony’s lips. and the other half would have a large hand enclosed around it, as ony’s dick had your back detaching from the couch.

“you're so fucking tight”, his lips spoke around your nipple, ”better not be giving any other niggas this treatment when you do their hair”, he'd say, rutting into you.

“j-just you, i s-swear”, you'd promise, and pride would make ony quickly pull out of you, only to empty your lungs of air when he slammed back into you again. sensations would be hitting you from all angles; the feeling of him driving into you achingly well, his lips decorating your ankle and shin, and the repeated contact of your ass cheeks and his hip bones.

the actual reason why ony was there had been long forgotten by the both of you, so there’d be no hesitation from either party when you’d reach a hand to his head to pull him into you, and messily kiss his lips. ony’s tongue would glide past your lower lip, moaning at the sweet taste of your lipgloss, before it’d enter your mouth and move against yours. the kiss would have both of you moaning into each other’s mouths, with your toes even curling in their place around his waist. but ultimately it’d be ony's hand sneaking down to your clit that would pull your orgasm over you. your walls flexing around him, coercing ony's own release out of him.

“you want my nut in you, ma?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod while whining out an incomprehensible 'yes' into his ears. your lips moving to kiss at his earlobe would be the thing to pause ony’s hips inside of you. and he’d fill you until he felt empty and all he could do was barely hold his body weight up so he wouldn’t crush you as he caught his breath. he’d retreat from the crook of your neck, and pepper honeyed kisses on your palm when your hand would rise to neaten the hairs you’d messed up,

“you know you still gotta pay me, right?”, you'd ask playfully, and ony would laugh at you before kissing your forehead.

“the dick ain't give me a discount?”, he'd ask, and you'd shake your head, ”how ‘bout if we fuck one more time?”, he’d look up to your eyes through his thick eyelashes, as his lips kissed your burning skin and his dick slowly started moving in and out of you again. still sensitive, your lips would start making noise without your permission, and ony would smile at your endearing behaviour,

“fuck—make it two and i'll give you the whole thing for free”,

“bet.”

©Rights owned by nanamoonsinc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

Ngl that suburban eren & hood princess reader fic had me in SHAMBLESS #itwassooogood! If you have the time though it would be real cool to see how this duo became to be and how they met!

thank youu frenn!! this took a minute but i hope it's okay🤭

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, marking, eren being a dick, eren calls reader; 'princess', 'baby', 'good girl', n word usage,

wc: 3015

”but i can’t handle you, right?”, the irony in that statement came from the fact that both of eren’s hands sat on your hips, pulling you onto his dick to stop you running from it. you couldn't think of a single time you had been fucked this good. so, physically, you couldn’t take it. and that’s why your feet kept trying to save your sanity, and cervix, by shifting you from his grasp.

”n-no”, you shook your head at his question. eren’s frustration was palpable, because he had been hearing that he ‘couldn’t handle you’ for so long that it had grown into an obsession. partly due to its falsehood; eren knew he could handle you. if given the chance, he would handle you until your walls remembered every vein on his dick, and the hickies he had left on your body, made it uncomfortable for you to dress yourself in the morning. when those words had been said, in jest, by his friends, he was able to shrug them off. but that assumption had proved very difficult to evict from his shoulders once your lips were the ones it was exiting from.

a chance friendship between neighbouring grandparents, meant that you and eren found yourselves in the same friendship circle. levi was the one who introduced eren to everyone and, granted you mainly saw each other at functions, you had quickly caught eren’s attention. never one to go out, eren avoided parties at all costs. but, if alerted that you’d be attending, best believe he’d have his fit planned and laid out the night before. unfortunately for him, those adorations were not reciprocated, because you paid no attention to the boy. in your eyes, eren was a rich white kid hanging out with hood niggas as a way to pretend to be someone he’s not. when you’d brought that up to some of your other friends, they’d refuted it,

”nah, we cool wit’ eren”, ony had shaken his head at you. even after hearing that, your opinions concerning the brunette would remain unchanged, as you’d always see him as a spoiled white suburban boy who was using you and your friends to cosplay a lifestyle he didn't lead.

so, naturally, his liking towards you was never known to you, nor was it ever a concern. because, as mentioned, you did not care for the boy at all. it wasn’t necessarily disdain, just apathy. and a part of eren knew that, but no amount of awareness could stop his eyes from glossing over every time they landed on you. nor could it stop the corners of his mouth from rising when the sight of your laughing form graced his pupils. everyone around him could see it, and half of your friends thought it to be cute and laughed it off. but others decided to take it upon themselves to save him from the impending heartache sure to come when you inevitably rejected him. eren didn’t understand and whenever he did question their rationale, he’d always get the same answer,

”she just likes her niggas a little…rough around the edges”, ony had once answered, to which eren’s face screwed in outraged confusion.

”okay?”, eren questioned, not understanding why that preference meant you could never like him specifically.

”he’s saying you’re too soft”, levi clarified jokingly, and when eren looked to see ony nodding in confirmation, an indignated scoff would leave his mouth. eren kept to himself, so no one knew what he was like behind closed doors. not to say that the difference between those two versions of himself were vast, it’s just that everyone just took what they saw of him in public as who he was as a whole. because eren was impassive, if people caused him problems, he was the type of guy to just walk away. and that was simply because he didn’t like giving his energy to those who don’t deserve it.

but to you, he wanted to give his energy and so much more. anything you wanted, he was willing to provide for you in the highest quality. every dollar of his parent’s money would be gathered and used to fulfil your every desire, if that’s what you requested. a chunk of his heart shifted to sit in his throat every single time he saw you, and that’s something he couldn’t ignore. the feeling was far too premature to be called ‘love’, but it excited him to know that it could get there, should it be given a chance for it to blossom freely. that’s why he chose to ignore all the ‘warnings’, and just walk up to you and, at least, try to spark up a conversation.

you couldn’t remember where you had heard it first, but once the rumour was in the air, it festered. that rumour being the one that claimed that the green-eyed boy, who drove a tesla, was supposedly in love with you. once one person said it, it became people’s primary method of greeting you. and every single time, it’d be met with unbothered snickers, and eye rolls, from yourself,

”the fuck’s that gotta do with me?”, you had laughed out. it wasn’t just because you thought he was poser, but he just wasn’t your type. it was no secret that you an affinity for pretty boys, but eren was too pretty. he was disney prince pretty, and he had the manner to match it. now, there’s nothing wrong with a well-mannered man, but eren spoke with his chest concaved, and moved like he feared taking up space. meaning he was a terrible match for you, because you needed a nigga who could put you in your place, and wouldn’t just cower in front of you and let you bitch him around.

that being said, the only thing about eren that you didn’t take issue with was his princely good looks. because eren was fine, and you were able to admit that. not publicly, but you were able to acknowledge it, even if you’d never express it to anyone with working ears. you some may argue that the moment that you got close to saying it aloud was caused by people inflating your head with thoughts of him. that had been the moment you looked up to the door, leading to the kitchen you and your friends were sat at to get away from the rest of the party, to see eren stood, hands in his pockets, and eyes practically cutting you in half with how harsh they were looking. in the place of the compliment that you nearly blurted out, came a deep breath before you turned to look away from him. eren would take notice of your reaction, and that’s what would encourage him to walk over to you. you'd see him move, but his destination would be a mystery to you, until you felt a nudge to your side followed by a joke from your friend,

”your boyfriend’s here”, she nodded in his direction and, once you saw what she was nodding at, you rolled your eyes. the next time you’d look to eren, he’d be stood right in front of you with a friendly smile on his face,

”hey.”, he said, raising a hand. you’d manage to hear him over the music, but you wouldn’t give him much.

”hm”, was the only response he got from you, further cementing the notion that speaking to you wouldn’t be easy. but that wouldn’t stop him from trying.

”i…uh…i’m eren”, he said, more nervously than he had intended. the fear of you thinking he was too soft made him nervous, inadvertently making him seem more cowardly than he was. everyone’s assumptions about his character were being confirmed in your mind, and seeing it on your face made his nerves rise.

”y/n.”, you said, and he nodded as if he wasn’t already aware.

”nice to meet you”, he replied. though not formally, the both of you had met before. meaning that you knew of each other, but had never really spoken. so you weren’t exactly comfortable with each other, nor were you keen on getting to that point.

”the fuck d’you want, my nigga?”, you asked and, having only ever known you to be a bubbly person, the austerity of your words surprised eren.

”just wanted to tell you that you’re really pretty”, he said, and your lips did threaten to form a flattered smile, and you’d let them get halfway before you decided to shut him down.

”thanks, but you’re not my type”, the signal that the conversation was over, came in the form of a smile toward the brunette before you turned to face your friend. but eren wouldn't let that discourage him, and he’d just speak to the side of your face.

”they said you’d say that. but…just give me a chance”, his words would make you smirk, because their nature seemed brash, yet they had no air of confidence about them. uneasy green eyes would see you lean to whisper something to your friend, who’d laugh once she heard what you said.

”you can’t handle me, babe”, you challenged, straightening your posture and crossing your arms. a laugh would resound from beside you, as your friend examined eren’s dumbfounded expression.

that interaction would lead to your hands on a bathroom sink, gripping on for dear life. once bored with the flesh around your hips, one of eren’s hands would wrap around your torso to press on the bulge his dick was making in your stomach. his bottom lip would be between his teeth, as he bit back all the pleasure your own was causing him. to you, eren was fucking you with this much vigour as a means of proving something. but eren knew that the reason for his pace, was the fact that his daydreams had come into manifestation. displays his brain had aroused, every time he looked at you, were pressed against his chest, and reflected off the mirror in front of him. in fact, none of it would feel real if it wasn't for his daydream tightening around him in a way that his subconscious could never conceive.

any preconceived notions you had held about eren, had been fucked out of your brain, to spill into the basin underneath you. the ferocity of his thrusts was allowing no time for you to even think, or question the way you once thought of him. and, if pleasure wasn't securing your eyes shut, you would see that the man behind you had been in front of you all this time and you had made the mistake of bypassing him. at first, eren had asked you to meet his eyes in the mirror in front of you, to test your resolve. but the sound of your exposed ass cheeks meeting his hip bone, invited his attention to its origin. his eyes would invite his hand to join them, and it'd accept and move to massage, and slap at, the skin there—admiring the way it recoiled upon meeting his hand.

one of his hands would be on your jaw, and the sight of your skin meeting, inadvertently made him fuck you harder than he had ever intended to. the sight of it made his hips move faster to chase the release the sight of the ring at the base of his dick teased him with. but, in your mind, this man was fucking all his resentment toward you into your womb. weakness encompassed your every limb to the point where even the fingers holding on to your only support were beginning to cramp and give out. the dick was so good, you had forgotten who was fucking you, until you looked at him in the mirror. prince charming had developed a villainous streak, and you could feel it in your stomach. at that moment, there’s nothing you wanted more than to turn around and leave a trail of lip gloss stains starting on his face, moving to his neck, and making a pit stop on his thighs as you moved down to take his length in your mouth. aided by eren, those thoughts would edge you closer and closer to your end,

”shit, you’re so fucking tight for me, baby”, he said, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing his length.

”’rrren, i’m gonna cumm”, your back arched off his chest, as you heard your own moans bouncing off the bathroom tiles to slap you on any exposed skin eren wasn’t already holding.

”be a good girl and beg me for it.”, eren’s lips grazed against your ear, before he kissed your lobe—moving to kiss down the side of your neck, and bite down on it. his eyes would flicker to your reflection, and you’d see his lips smile around the skin they were covering. you wanted to maintain your facade of immovability so bad, but eren’s actions were only making you moan more.

”fff-fuck you”, you’d chide, gripping onto the porcelain even harsher, and cursing under your breath. eren would organise his lips into a pout as he feigned offence.

”that’s not very nice”, his face looked hurt, but his hastening hips suggested otherwise. eren wasn't just doing this to spite you, but to also get you closer to your end, so you'd concede faster,

”you bein’ real mean for someone who’s crying for more dick”, he began kissing on your neck again, biting harder this time. there was no time to be in pain, because it all just felt so good. this man barely knew you, but he understood your body in a way only a lover should.

”i’m not c-crying”, you said, and a smug scoff would leave eren's shining lips, before they'd wobble dramatically in imitation of your own. hiding your bottom lip in between your teeth, you'd look down at your feet in embarrassment. the eren you were seeing, differed so much from the eren you had known, that the knot in your stomach couldn't help but tighten. the only word to describe him, was ‘mean’. and you had to question if this was just an act but, looking at how his expressions didn’t change at seeing your teary eyes, you knew that this is who he'd always been. with this epiphany, you knew you'd become the one to chase him, as opposed to your dynamic thus far.

”y-you’re n-n-not?”, he mocked, copying your fucked out stutter, ”then what’s this, baby?”, he wiped a falling tear from your face, its resting place soon being occupied by a gentle kiss. that iota of kindness would coerce a blissful sigh from your lips.

”just say please, princess, and i’ll give it to you”, eren said, quietly. he had expected more backtalk, but he’d be surprised to find that your mouth would open to adhere without hesitation.

”pleasee”, you whined, blinking out more tears, and eren tsked before grabbing your jaw and turning you to face him,

”please what, baby?”, he said, placing a sweet kiss on your lips that almost erased the actions of the man behind you from your memory. but once you felt his eyes pierce through you when he pulled back, it'd all come flooding back. you’d obey, and the place his tip reached caused a raise in the volume of your voice.

”let me cummmm, pleaseee”, you said. a small smile would be on eren's face as he moved to place one more kiss on your forehead. then your wishes would be granted when he wrapped a hand around you to rub your clit. overstimulation to that degree had always been a myth to you, but it was hard to deny it when you could feel it dripping down your leg to trickle onto the floor beneath your bodies. an army of goosebumps was raised to attention all over you, but eren would be seemingly unphased by it. or, at least, that's what you'd initially thought. but, looking at his reflection, you could see the concentration his face, and you could feel his fingertips digging deeper into your skin, telling you that he was close too.

”gonna let me nut in you?”, he asked, against the heated skin on your neck, and you'd pose no contention. even if you hadn't been nodding furiously, your want for his nut was evident in the way you were moving back on him, using yourself to get him off.

”i need it, eren, pleaseee”, you crooned, drawing a prideful smirk from eren. the sight of you using your body to get him off, did half of the work for you. in fact, if you didn't feel so fucking good, it could've made him nut on its own.

”look how good you’re being for me”, his smirk touched your temple as he kissed it. desperation to please would move your head in a nod and, soon, the reward for your good behaviour would spread warmly inside you as eren held your hips to a standstill. his head would be rested on your shoulder, commencing a few seconds of quiet filled only by muffled music and heavy breaths. when eren did lift his head to watch you in the mirror, he'd see you still trying to catch your breath,

”y’know you’re easier to handle than you think”, he chortled, before you'd both be wincing at him pulling out of you.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

hey hru :) can i request connie x reader being both hyper sexual but reader chose celibacy so the sexual tension is always high and the make out a lot and connie can’t take it anymore

now how did you know that i was thinking about this like an hour before you suggested it?🤨 anyways i'm good and i hope you like it fren🤭

cw: horny!connie x celibateblackfem!reader, pnv, phone sex, masturbation (f+m), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', 'my good girl', ('gorgeous), 'cuero' ('whore'), 'mételo, ma' ('put it in, ma'), 'despacio' ('slowly'),

wc: 3162 + lazily proofread bc i'm tired lol

your celibacy had started long before you met him. after wasting your time with too many useless men, you decided to focus on yourself which led you to the decision to try and avoid sex until you were dating someone for, at least, two years. as good of an idea as it seemed at first, you couldn’t help but grow to hate the hastening of your heart each time you had to tell a guy you were feeling about your somewhat ‘extreme’ decision. luckily you only had to do it once, before you met the man who could only be described as your worst match; connie springer.

connie had a reputation that proceeded him, and a long line of women who would do anything for him because the dick was just that good. the first time you had met connie, one of his friends had brought up his nickname, ’cuero’. and once you found out what it meant, you hid your shaky voice with a small laugh. but, contrary to what you had thought of him, connie didn’t really care about you being celibate because he just wanted to be with you. though it took a while to get used to, he made sure he respected your decision and adhered to all your boundaries surrounding physical affection.

but sweet gestures would be layered to hide the bitter truth. that being, connie had never been through anything as difficult as this in his life. his friends called him dramatic, but he told them that they would never understand how infuriating it was to be laid next to the prettiest girl he had ever seen, his borrowed shirt moving up her body, and her thong doing nothing to cover her skin. all of that meaning that the warmth of her ass would just be pressed up against him, as he squirmed and cursed under his breath. for the first time in years, connie’s cheeks and ears rouged at the heat radiating off a woman’s skin, growing at the place you two connected to engulf him whole. he felt like a teenager again in the worst way possible; once natural mannerisms became awkward, words stumbling over each other in a way that made him cringe. there were too many times he felt like you could read his lewd thoughts as he watched you perform mundane tasks like getting dressed. but you had never noticed the way he observed you, wondering what you’d look like clothed in lip marks, accessorised with hand shaped stamps on your ass cheeks.

unbeknownst to your boyfriend, he wasn’t the only one having a hard time. celibacy had been a fairly simple journey until the day you stumbled across a fine dominican speed bump. now you worried about catching him as he came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging from his hip bones as steaming droplets of water slid down the valleys on his toned abdomen. or the dreaded times where he’d wear those stupid fucking compression shirts, with those stupid grey sweats and nothing underneath. when ovulation week rolled around, everything your boyfriend did felt like a taunt to you; sleeping in just his boxers, smacking your ass, kissing you, even the way his tongue and fingers moved as he rolled his blunts had you crossing your legs and shifting in your seat.

it had gotten to the point where making out wasn’t cutting it anymore. and that’s how you and connie’s sex life began to escalate. one night, your hormones got the better of you so you called your man in need of relief. excitement was audible in his voice when he picked up the phone, but it would soon be substituted with a panic that would seep out of his pores, when all he could hear was you breathing heavily. but, something in his brain told him not to say anything so he remained quiet as he listened intently. that’s when he’d realise that those heavy breaths were laboured, and probably caused by whatever was buzzing in the background.

”i need you to put a baby in me, pa”, you had suddenly broken the silence, and a deep breath left connie’s mouth. he’d have to shift in his seat to calm himself down, but it’d do absolutely nothing.

”you can’t say shit like that, hermosa.”, he replied through clenched teeth. luckily he had just sold to his last client of the day, so he’d stay on the phone as he drove into an empty car park. within seconds, his dick would be in his hand and his own breaths would harmonise with yours over the phone as he fucked into his hand, and talked you through your nut.

prior to that day, the furthest you had gone was kissing. whether it be in his car, in bed, on the couch when you’re meant to be watching a movie, or even when connie would join you in the shower to kiss on the wet skin on your neck, you had never crossed that line. it was definitely difficult when he’d be stood right behind you, his bare dick touching your cheeks and all, but you’d always keep it together. that was until the day you were sat on his couch, getting ready to watch a tv show together. everything was fine, until connie went to wrap a blanket around you. it was something he had done many times before, but this time was different; due to your proximity, his breath was going straight into your ear, and it’d grow uneasy as you maintained eye contact. the sound of his breath picking up was reminiscent of the times you’d fucked over the phone, and the salacious memories were making your eyes gloss over. connie could read you like a book; he wouldn’t even reach the second page before his hand would be on your thigh. it’d linger on the warm skin before it’d move up your shorts, while he connected his lips with the skin on your neck.

when he finally did pull back, connie would place his lips on yours in a kiss that was sweet…until it wasn’t. its romantic feel would fade out as soon as he heard you moan when he put his tongue in your mouth. and, once he felt your hand so high up on his thigh that it was practically touching his dick, he would throw away all regard for where his hands were—they’d start grabbing anything they could. discernment told connie to pull away, because your lips were shooing the blood in his head to the place between his legs. yet, it’d all go ignored. instead he’d pull you onto his lap and smile against your mouth when you just let him. the wetness between your legs would rub against the hard length about to break through his boxers as your hips moved on top of it. all that could be heard in that room was heavy breathing, quiet moans, and the sound of connie’s hands occasionally landing on your skin to smack your cheeks when he got bored of massaging them.

the feeling of your hands on his nape, and running through his short buzzcut, travelled throughout connie’s body to will his hands to pull you down onto his bulge as he began chasing any form of relief from you. still lost in how bad you wanted him, your hips would subconsciously help connie by moving faster. and it wouldn’t be until he pulled away from your lips to lean his head back on the couch that you’d be alerted of your actions. they’d immediately cease, and connie wouldn’t get what was happening so he’d be kissing on your neck,

”it feels so good, ma, just keep movin’ on me”. that request would be met with you moving yourself from him completely. judging by the pensive look on your face, connie knew exactly what had happened and remorse began to wash over the arousal he had once felt. soon his hands would wipe his face, before he placed one on your knee.

”i’m sorry, y/n.”, he quietly apologised, ”i…i don’t know what the fuck happened. i guess i just lost myself”, he picked your hand up, and kissed your knuckles repeatedly. of course it wasn’t just him, you should’ve known better too, so you shook your head and pulled him in for a hug.

”it’s fine. i fucked up too”, you chortled before pulling him back and awkwardly going back to watching whatever show you had picked.

and that should’ve been the end of it. but the feeling he had formed in your clit had yet to subside. so when you moved to his bed, later that evening, you decided it was about time you gave him what you both wanted. connie leant against the head board, with you cuddled up by his side and, with your each and every movement, it was clear to see that he was still sensitive after what happened earlier. using that to your advantage, you’d lay your hand on his thigh and, as soon as that contact was made, connie’s eyes would dart to you. just as he was about to open his mouth and question your actions, you got up and climbed onto him. curiosity told him to move his parted lips, but intrigue kept them still as he watched you move closer to his neck. small pecks on his skin would increase in length, as well as intensity, and a few marks would decorate his neck, before you moved on to kiss and suck at his earlobe. that, mixed with the way your hips started moving again, brought back the memories of what had unfolded on his couch a few hours ago.

”y/n”, connie voiced, head still tilted to give you better access to his neck and ear, ”what about…?”, the end of that sentence was unfinished for two reasons; connie didn’t like bringing it up, and he was just too horny to think of the word.

”fuck it.”, you answered curtly, “i just need you so bad, pa”, connie scoffed at you, yet he still wouldn’t move from his position, he’d just place his hands on your hips.

”you sure?”, his eyes opened to look at you, and they’d see you nod softly before you stopped what you were doing.

”i mean, if you don’t want to then we can just—”, you began to taunt your boyfriend, but he’d cut you off.

”fuck that”, is all he said, before he’d flip your positions so you were laying beneath him, and he was stripping your body of anything covering it.

connie had seen you naked many times during the 7 months you had been together, but you would’ve never guessed with the way his eyes were darting all over the place, not sure what to do with themselves. because they were seeing you in a way they had only ever dreamed of—dreams that would end in embarrassment as connie trudged to change out of the moist fabric covering his lower half. but now that you were in front of him, wanting what he did, he would have to take a second to think. then, once he knew what he wanted, connie would move from the bed to rummage through one of your bags. confusion would scrunch your eyebrows for a second until connie returned to your line of vision with your vibrator in his hand. cockiness would stretch his lips into a smirk at the discovery that you were unaware of him seeing it when you were looking for your socks earlier. thinking of all the possible things he wanted to do with it pulled you out of the present moment until the droning sound of the toy brought you back. in the time you had been daydreaming, connie had walked to the side of the bed and when he handed it to you, you’d look up at him to say ”really?”. he’d chuckle as he nodded,

”i need to see what i’ve been hearing for so long”, he explained, and your eyes rolled before they eyed the device as if you’d never seen it before. though you wanted connie, you couldn’t refute the fact that the prolonged buzzing noise exacerbated the wetness between your legs. so you’d spread them, and the way you acted without instruction widened connie’s eyes. they’d stay that way as you used the wand to tease your clit, moaning his name as if he were the cause for the way your thighs were already starting to tremble. and connie’d just watch you; eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned on the pillows and keened his name. he wouldn’t even realise that he was holding his breath until he let out a heavy sigh.

”mételo, ma“, he ordered gently, as he moved a chair and put it in front of the bed. his dick would be in his hand as he watched you do as he said. the calls that he had began to yearn for at the end of every day seemed meaningless in comparison to the display before his eyes; his beautiful girlfriend sprawled out in front of him, legs shaking at a toy she wished was him instead, and a growing patch of wetness on the bed covers underneath her.

”despacio”, connie’s strained voice managed to reach your ears, and you nodded, sliding the toy in you slower to give connie a better view of the slight stretch.

so lost in it all, your eyes hadn’t opened since the toy had touched you—your head had been on the pillows below you, as your back arched off the now wet bed. you’d only pry your drowsy lids open when you felt connie’s hands on yours, pulling the toy out of you, licking a strip of the wetness on it, before throwing it on the bed. he wouldn’t even bother to kiss you as he knelt on the bed, his thumb moving over his raging tip as he positioned himself between your legs. pink, and needing to touch the spot inside you that he knew would drive you crazy, connie’s tip would be rubbed in between your folds to collect as much of your arousal as it could. and, for the first time in too long, connie’s ego would awaken at the sound of the gorgeous woman whining underneath him, toes wiggling aggressively as he teased you. after a while, it started to look like connie was teasing himself; though he had literally dreamt of this moment, he wasn’t rushed. instead, he wanted to take his time and make you feel so good that you would beg him to fuck you every single second of every single day to make up for lost time.

when his tip finally did enter you, it’d still there for a second. it was during that second that you started wondering if you could actually take connie. you knew that he was big, but the thought of actually having to deal with that stretch had always been pushed to the back of your mind. luckily for you, he’d push the rest of his dick into you very slowly. and, about quarter of the way inside you, his forehead would be on yours—already sweaty, and starting to wrinkle in the middle. romance would reintegrate itself during that one second, because connie would connect your lips again, allowing his tongue to dance with yours in a messy kiss that would spur his hips to move again. and, as soon as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass registered in your mind, you’d intertwine your hands at his nape, keeping your lips attached to hide the sound of your moans. connie’d quickly catch onto what you were doing, and pull back from you to shake his head,

”nah, ma, i’ve been waitin’ on this f’r too damn long. let me hear ya.”

connie wouldn’t need to ask you twice because, after that, you gave him exactly what he wanted. and, other than fawning over the way you were cussing using the spanish you had learnt from him, connie was losing his damn mind. this was your first time fucking, and he honestly felt like it was his first time ever having sex because of how hypersensitive his dick was. he could feel every single micro spasm of your walls, and when they intensified to the point where it was difficult to ignore the twitching of his balls as you continuously clenched around him, he knew you were close.

”fuck, ma, how you been keeping this from me?”, he asked at you and you’d mumble out a nonsensical response. all you could focus on was the fact that your release was at the tip of your curling fingers, so everything else was just fading into the background,

”’mm so closee, p-pa, p-pleasee”, you pleaded, and connie pressed your legs against your chest as he fucked into you with more haste.

”need you to promise to never keep my pussy from me ever again”, he demanded through gritted teeth, and you nodded desperately at him, ”’f you wanna cum then you gon’ have to speak t’me, ma”, he kissed his teeth, and you would try your best to gather yourself to start speaking.

”i p-promise i prom-mise pppromise”, you stuttered out, and connie’s smile warmed you from above.

”that’s my good girl”, between the praise, and connie’s dick abusing your cervix, it wouldn’t be long before pleasured tears left your closing eyes as you came around him. and, being a retired man-whore, connie thought he could take it, but he really couldn’t; as soon as you started tightening around him, his eyes would shut firmly as he struggled to move in and out of you.

”shit.”, he whispered, head bowed.

his intentions to make you yearn for his dick wouldn’t be neglected. they’d quickly come into fruition because, even as he filled you with load after load and fucked you in every position his filthy mind could think of, you would still beg for more of him. in the time space of a few hours, you two had gone from trying not to give into each other, to refusing to not be connected in a way that made you both sweat. most of connie felt satisfied with himself, yet a small part feared the monster he had created.

© Rights owned by nanamoonsinc. Do not repost without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

literally perfect again 10/10!! i agree the girls do need a part 2 that’s jus what they saying idk

-🪩

sooo~~this is longer than i wanted it to be and it's really eren focused but here she is😁

pt.1

cw: ony x eren x black fem!reader, perv!eren, face+throat fucking, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), spit kink, ony calls reader; 'ma', 'my sweet girl', and he also calls eren 'good boy', ony calls himself 'daddy' eren is literally OBSESSED with them cheeks, yeah this just a mess.

cw: 3358

”bruh you know i didn’t mean it like that”, was a simple apology for many complicated actions. to ony’s mind, it was understood as an apology for the comment eren had made at ymir’s house. but eren knew better. to him, it was an apology for the late nights and early mornings he had spent fucking into his hand, playing back the videos ony had sent him of your back arched as you cried out his name into the couch beneath you. or the ones of you sat on ony’s face, riding it like you did his dick not too long before. every single one of them had been sketched out lightly, in the centre of eren’s pupils, then redrawn in permanent ink in the back of his mind. for days now, his four walls had been subjected to their owner’s moans bouncing off them, filling his living space to the brim, only to leak out of his open windows. he told himself he’d stop, but by the time his brain had gotten a proper reign on his sense, his hand was covered by his first load, and his phone screen had taken the brunt of his second. there was one particular close up of your cheeks from the back that made eren lose it; it drove him to such extreme immersion that his brain made him believe that you were really in front of him. and by the time he could properly discern that you weren’t, his phone screen was covered. yet, he could still see the banner sliding down it to notify him that ony had sent him another message. he had expected to be cussed out, but what he got was worse: ”come to our place tomorrow. 5pm.”.

eren didn’t even have to knock on the door, as it was left slightly ajar. the key still being in the lock told him that you guys couldn’t even wait to get inside before you started doing whatever had distracted you. not that he could blame ony; if you were his, he’d never be able to take his hands off you either. hiding that fact was easy when there were other people around, but doing so when it was just the three of you would be difficult. so eren’s hand just lingered over the door handle, contemplating just turning around and walking away. but, amidst the anxious thoughts, eren could hear skin slapping and guttural moans. maybe ony hadn’t anticipated him being so on time, maybe you guys had lost track of time. or maybe, just maybe, this was all part of ony’s plan to get back at him. eren thought this whole thing started, and ended, with his one sly comment. unbeknownst to the fact that, since that night, ony had caught on to the way eren looked at you differently; his eyes lingered longer on exposed skin, he reacted more at subtle touches, and he was a lot quieter around you. that amused him more than anything, so he proposed something to you. and you had agreed.

twisted thoughts of your body covered in sweat, and lustful bruising, became life unravelling realities, when eren opened the door and was greeted by the back of ony’s head. the front of it, directly facing your bouncing tits. neither of you had noticed him walking in until he closed the door. something only ony reacted to, turning his head to smirk at the man stood at the front of your home. if those videos had piqued eren’s interest, ony wanted it to plummet. and he was about to do that by finally satiating eren’s curiosity.

”sit.”, ony nodded towards the dining table chair he had placed in front of the couch. separation from your naked body bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick, and eren’s flustered eyes came in the form of a coffee table and wavering self-control. once sat, eren tried to distract himself with thoughts of anything that wasn’t whatever was happening in front of him, and all ony could do was scoff at him.

”we’re over here”, ony muttered lowly, and the journey eren’s head took to turn from the ceiling to the scene in front of him was a slow one. its destination being one that wasn’t favoured, but once reached, he couldn’t help the way his emeralds flickered to the glistening white substance sat comfortably at the place where you and ony connected. subconsciously, the tip of eren’s tongue slid across his bottom lip before it went back into his mouth, his lip accompanying it. he had known better than to wear grey joggers, because even the sight of you made his dick twitch now. so he hoped that the decision to wear black ones instead would aid him in hiding his dick pulsating in his boxers. a thumb masquerading itself as just a means of ridding his thigh of an incessant itch, slid across his tip gently, sending a volt of electricity down eren’s spine as a result. all efforts to hide his arousal went down the drain as soon as ony’s mouth opened again.

”you think i invited you here to watch me fuck my girl?”, the lecherous veil over eren’s eyes lifted suddenly, his body shifting to sit up properly again, ”you said you was down, so come get her”, ony poked, and eren’s adam’s apple bobbed very slowly.

”the fuck are you talking about?”, he spoke out quietly, but he was still audible to ony’s ears. even over the sound of your ass cheeks clapping on his thighs.

”you said you was down for a threesome, didn’t you?”, ony stilled you to raise an eyebrow at eren, and eren just sunk back into his chair.

”i was kidding…”,

”and?”, ony’s head tilted in provocation. beams of the setting sun snuck through the gaps in your curtains to illuminate the coat of sweat covering your body, and the beads slowly forming on eren’s forehead. it was as if thinking of a response was causing him physical strain that only worsened when your hips began moving again,

”look at her, jaeger”, ony pouted at eren, his hand weaving through your jet black bundles to pull you back, place kisses on the top of your neck, and turn your face ever so slightly to face eren, ”she’s such a needy girl, and i can’t take care of her all by myself”, the pout on ony’s face would soon leave, its place taken by something more sinister.

eren’s internal conflict was visible on his face, and ony knew that all he had to do was play on the fantasies bred by those videos he had sent him. as boisterous and blithe as eren presented himself, ony knew the brunette before him was not used to someone like you. jokes about fucking you were made because eren knew that’s all they’d ever be; it was easy to make light of something that could never be within arms length of him. should he ever come in contact with someone like you, your jaw would unhinge, clamp around him, and leave him a hollow shell of what he once was. if not courage, ony wanted to at least test his friend’s resolve. and his hypothesis was that it was fairly weak.

”n-nah. i can’t”, eren stuttered, going to stand up before ony placed an ear-splitting smack on your ass, and your mouth produced coherent language for the first time since eren got there.

”’ren, p-please”, you whined out, neck starting to ache at the angle ony had your hair pulled back.

”don’t make her beg, eren”, ony’s pout was back as he taunted his friend, ”she just wants you, jaeger. give her what she wants”, ony’s words seemed to be a double-edged sword. but yours were so saccharine; escorted out of your mouth by the spit pooling at the corners of your lips. your plump, glossed lips that he knew would taste sweeter than his dreams would ever allow him to conceive. eren didn’t know what ony was planning, but he did know that if you were involved, then he would be as well. so he sat back down, hands rested on his thighs, as his legs sat spread.

for a few minutes, all he did was watch; his eyes transfixed on how well you took your boyfriend. from what eren had observed, ony would have to pause every once in a while and mumble something about how tight you were. hatching thoughts in eren’s mind about stretching you out on the very couch he had seen your face pressed into, as ony fucked the air out of you. he daydreamed of your walls hugging him until he came on your back and ass cheeks, instead of his phone screen. he didn’t even realise, but the thumb that had rubbed his tip had been substituted for his palm—rubbing circles on his dick, as his hips would buck up into it every now and again.

”how it look from back there, eren?”, ony smirked, and eren couldn’t think of a single thing to say. ony’s hands would grab and knead at your ass cheeks, spreading them to show eren just how well you took him. the image alone made eren’s central nervous system break down, causing his head to fall back to lean onto the back of the dining chair.

”shit, i’m cumminggg”, you mewled, and eren’s hands pressed harsher into his throbbing dick.

”it’s okay, ma, daddy’s got you”, ony kissed your forehead; the gentle affection was reserved for above his neck because, below that, he was fucking up into you ruthlessly. and you came around ony’s length, moaning his name as your forehead fell to his chest. this man had been fucking you for at least an hour now, and he had already finished inside you once, but he just wouldn’t stop.

”but you still have some energy for our guest don’t you?”, ony looked to you, and you just nodded weakly. to which he replied with a peck to your lips, before two of his fingers opened your mouth and rested on your tongue.

”come help my sweet girl, eren. her mouth is lonely.”, were the words that led to where you were now; on your knees on the couch with ony’s hands bruising your hips with his harsh grip, and eren’s tip inching deeper into your throat. his shirt was folded, and tightly between his teeth, as you sucked the soul out of this man. the way the wetness and warmth of your mouth enclosed around him, mixed with the palming he had been doing earlier, made it very hard for eren to keep himself together. the very second your lips had wrapped around his tip, he was ready to nut. but the view beneath him was not one to be taken in in passing. you were looking up at him so innocently, even though your mouth was far from that. he could only imagine what your pussy felt like, especially when ony would make snide comments like,

”i wish you could see what i’m seein’ right now”, closed off with a smug chuckle, just to get under eren’s skin. because he would never get to fuck you—as petty as ony was, he had a line, and that line was anything below your mouth. he had made it explicitly clear that eren was not to touch anything that wasn’t on your face. meaning he had free access to your mouth.

”you can be rough with her, she can take it”, ony had said, but eren just didn’t have it in him to recklessly fuck a face as pretty as yours. you could tell he was hesitant, because his hand had just been sat on the side of your face the whole time. its only movements being his thumb stroking your cheek softly. so you picked up his other hand and put it on the other side of his face. now he was cupping it, and you looked up at him, bottom lip puckered out slightly to say;

”p-please ‘ren”, you cooed, ”please f-fuck my throat”, and those words sealed your fate.

because the next time eren would enter your mouth, he wouldn’t be as gentle as he once was. he would barely give you a chance to adjust to what was happening before he was fucking into your throat; one hand on either side of your face, as ideas of what your pussy would feel like instead ran rampant in his mind. from that moment onwards, there was no one in that room but you—and even you were disappearing as his sole focus rested on your mouth and throat.

”i see why ony don’t let nobody near you now”, he grunted out, and ony just smirked at him, ”i wouldn’t wanna fucking share you with nobody neither”, he muttered. so lost in you, he didn’t know what he was saying. but his words worked wonders on you, making you wetter than you already were and aiding ony. his thrusts became rougher because of how wet you were, and they both developed a rhythm; ony’s thrusts would push you to take more of eren in your throat. and eren’s delirium would travel to his hips, making him push himself into you harder, bouncing you back onto ony’s hip bone. the back and forth tightened the coil in your stomach until one more meeting of ony’s tip and your cervix made that pleasure spring out into every limb in your body. tears from your overwhelming orgasm, and eren harshly abusing your throat, fell profusely. only ever having been with one man at one time, the sensations pinballing you in every direction made your body numb. the only thing you could do being trying to voice how good you felt. but your moans were muffled by eren’s dick in your throat. but their vibrations sent his senses into overdrive.

so in the heat of the moment, he reached a hand over to grab at the ass cheeks he’d been fantasising about for days. but ony’s hand beat him to it, smacking the brunette’s hand away. it was only then that eren was catapulted back into reality,

”the fuck you think you doin’?”, ony’s words were short, but they were intimidating enough for eren to murmur out a ‘sorry’. and once that earth shattering nut settled and you regained your bearings, you pulled eren out of your mouth, and tapped his tip on your tongue. that’s when he felt a weird feeling in his chest. and that feeling would roll down to his stomach, doubling in on itself as it did so, until he felt like he was making a mistake by looking that deep into your eyes. incandescent and doe-like, they twinkled up at him as you opened your mouth, only to stick your tongue out. it took eren a second to connect the dots, but once he did, he shook his head at you.

”why~?”, you whined, and he just shot a look at the man behind you to which you replied, ”it’s fine, ony said to give me what i want. and this is what i want”, eren wasn’t about to argue with you, especially not on something he wanted so bad. so his hand would grab your face, before a string of spit hung down to your tongue. he wouldn’t even have to tell you to swallow it, you just did it on your own accord, and he felt some of the nut that had been so desperately trying to hold back, leak out a little bit. he felt his release edging closer at the sight of fluid dripping down your chin. just knowing that it was a culmination of his precum, your spit, as well as his own, made his dick pulsate. hands would, once again, find themselves rested on either side of your face, as his hips began fucking it again. but faster than last time.

if he could have it his way, eren would just fuck your face for a few more minutes, before having to trouble his mind with where the fuck he was meant to nut. because ony obviously wouldn’t allow it to be on your face, so where would it go?? but, those troubles came quicker than he’d hoped and, unaware of his stress, your hands moved to stroke his dick as your mouth focused on his sensitive tip. eren’s hips only hastened, his loud moans and whines only meaning one thing,

”fffuck, i’m gonna cum”, he groaned out.

”not in her mouth you’re not”, ony scolded, his eyebrows scrunched as his own nut was within arms reach. and eren just looked to him with extreme confusion on his face.

”thennnghh where, ony?”, he whined out, looking down at your lips still latched onto his throbbing tip.

”be a good boy and get a tissue or somethin’.”, his eyes locked with his friend’s was not how eren imagined this ending. so, as pissed as he was with ony’s self-satisfied suggestion, he had to listen to him and pull himself out of you before snatching a few tissues from the tissue box on your coffee table. with your mouth wrapped around him, his release would’ve been imminent, but now using his hands wouldn’t be enough for him. that was until, a gentle hand grabbed at his wrist, putting two of his fingers inside your mouth and sucking on them the same way you had been sucking his dick a few moments away. all while maintaining eye contact. knowing what that felt like around his dick, was enough for eren to nut into the tissues, abs tensing as he hunched over slightly.

”shit, y/n.”, was all he said before taking a few deep breaths. he’d sit on his heels for a few moments before standing up to clean himself off, and get rid of the tissues.

when he came back, more tissues in hand and cleaning himself off, he was greeted by the scene of ony just nutting all over your ass cheeks and back. eren had to bite his lip to stop him from moaning out at the face you made looking over your shoulder; coquettish eyelashes fluttering as you looked at the man behind you. his hands hadn’t stopped moving, but they were no longer cleaning. and he didn’t even notice the change until that familiar feeling in his dick returned. and luckily his reflexes were fast enough, otherwise he would’ve just nutted all over the floor. his whole body leant on one of your loveseats, as his teeth stamped a red line underneath his bottom lip.

”fuck”, eren spoke under his breath, his head finally rose to lean back on his shoulders.

”the fuck are you still doin’ here?”, ony grumbled out and, with the little strength you had left, you slapped him lightly.

”be nice”, you chided gently, and ony scoffed, grabbing some tissues from the box to wipe up the nut on your back.

”i just let him face fuck my girlfriend, how much nicer can i get?”, ony then got up to put the shirt he had discarded on your body, before putting his boxers on, and walking over to eren.

”imma run her a bath and, when i come back, you better be gone”, ony began walking to the bathroom, only taking ten steps away from his friend before pausing, and turning around, ”and eren?”,

”hm?”,

”you tell anyone about this and i really will kill you”,

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