⌖ 𖦏₊ ⊹

st. lucia, eren.

𓊆ྀི warnings .ᐟ + word count—10.4K, onlyfans!contentcreatorcouple!, vacation!, originalblackfem!reader, boyfriend!erenyeager, bubblyslightlybimbo!femreader, gymrat!eren, gymrat!femreader, southerncoded!femreader, southerncoded!eren, aggressive!eren, dominant!eren, gruff!eren, sweet!eren, submissive!eren, size kink!, pet names!baby!bunny!, sofa!sex, face slapping!, riding, doggy style, slightly aggressive sex!, dick sucking!, squirting!, creaming!, condomless sex, talks of relationship issues, minors aren’t welcome! 𓊇ྀི

メモ。— happy belated birthday, dada. inspired by a twitter video i seen. it’ll be linked, nasties.

pt 4 of na na.

૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა

…piscesbimbobunny has made a new post! 

click ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა  to open. 

˚ ⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏. ₎ა✮⋆˙𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚

DEEP, ROSY AND PINK. That was the only way to describe the intense flush of your freckled cheeks, startled by the tan of your skin that went from caramel to earthy brown in days of soaking love from the sun. Being here was a dream—one that you couldn’t bring yourself to wake up from. Not yet.

A vintage filter flickers to life, bathing the screen in golden St. Lucian sunlight that spills through the open balcony of your Mediterranean oasis. The space feels like a dream—terra-cotta tiles underfoot, cream-colored brick walls draped in ivy and trailing flowers, an indoor waterfall trickling softly in the background. The bedroom is an open sanctuary, sheer white curtains billowing around a wooden four-poster bed, its canopy draped lazily over rumpled white sheets.  

And there, in the center of it all—him. 

Lying sprawled on his back, deep in sleep, his massive frame takes up nearly the entire bed. Dark brown hair—almost black in the shadows, but warm bronze where the sun catches it—fans out across the pillow like spilled ink. The tattoos covering his arm and creeping up his neck stand out starkly against sun-kissed skin, muscular chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. Even in rest, there’s something commanding about him—the natural scowl of his brows, the sharp cut of his jawline, to his full lips slightly parted.  

You zoom in slowly, your voice a hushed, adoring whisper—  

“Look at you… ‘So handsome.”  

The camera lingers on his face—the faint freckles dusting his nose, his lashes brushing his cheeks, down to the stubborn set of his expression even in sleep. You bite back a giggle, leaning closer.  

“Baby…?” 

No response. Not even a twitch.  

Another soft laugh escapes you as you adjust the frame, capturing the way morning light paints him in gold.  

“Out cold,” you murmur, fondness dripping from every syllable.  

The scene holds—just for a moment—before the camera shifts, panning over the tropical paradise outside, the sound of waves crashing in the distance. 

A burgues script title card flashes:  

My love letter to you. 

The camera catches the delicate flicker of your French-tipped toes as you peel yourself from the bed—moving like a ghost to not disturb him. The lens follows your path through the sprawling villa, gliding over terracotta floors kissed by sunlight, past open-air archways draped in bougainvillea, until you find the perfect spot—a plush, low-slung sofa nestled between an indoor garden and the infinity pool’s edge.  

You angle the camera carefully across from you, and there you are. 

The sun has painted your skin richer—your freckles somehow more pronounced, scattered like constellations across your cheeks and nose. A faint pink tinge dusts the high points of your face—part sunburn, part blush from pure contentment. Your hair is a masterpiece—long, full French curl braids cascading over shoulders, blending seamlessly with loose ringlets that catch the light like spun gold. They frame your round face perfectly—accentuating full, arched brows, dark cat-like lashes, and lips so plush and pink they look perpetually bitten.  

Your neon orange bikini top—streaked with deep pink swirls—clings to your heavy, voluptuous curves, the ruching at the sides straining just slightly from the weight of your breasts. An anklet and sandals in matching pink rest nearby, abandoned for comfort. Your wrists jingle with charm bracelets as you fold yourself onto the sofa, knees tucked under you like a daydream given human form.  

You are sinful innocence incarnate—a doll with a devil’s smirk and an angel’s glow.  

A delicate hand lifts, waving at the camera as your voice comes out smooth, sweet—yet laced with something deeper.  

“Hi, babies. It’s…been a while.” 

The camera drinks you in—this vision of sun-soaked serenity—before you finally take a breath and lean forward, ready to tell your story.  

But first—a wicked little grin curls at the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s catch up.” 

you’re curled up on megumi’s lap on the couch, legs tucked under you, his arms loose around your waist while the movie drones on. you keep fidgeting, cheeks hot, heart hammering. finally you hide your face in his neck and mumble it against his skin.

“gumi… can we... try something?”

he stills, thumb pausing where it was rubbing your hip. “hm?”

“i... i want to ride you” you whisper, shy but determined. “you always make me feel so good… want to make you feel good too. please?”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, dark blue eyes softening. a faint flush dusts his cheekbones, but his voice stays low and steady. “yeah? you sure, baby?”

when you nod, biting your lip, he exhales through his nose and kisses you slow, gentle, like he’s savoring it. “then let’s go. i’ll take care of you.”

. . . that’s how you end up naked in his bed ten minutes later, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard, black hair messy from your fingers, pale chest already flushed. his cock is heavy and hot against your slick folds, tip leaking, curving up toward his stomach. thick, flushed angry red, veins standing out along the shaft, and the sight alone makes your thighs tremble.

megumi grips your hips gently, guiding you up. “hold it at the base for me, baby. yeah— just like that.” his voice is calm, but you hear the strain when your shaky hand wraps around him.

you line him up, notch the fat head at your dripping entrance, and he stops you before you sink down.

“slow,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back. “let yourself stretch around me. don’t just drop.”

your face was burning but you nod anyway, biting your lip, and start to sink on him.

the first breach makes your breath hitch— his cockhead popping past your tight ring, spreading you obscenely wide.

it burns in the best way, your slick little hole fluttering, trying to swallow him deeper. inch by inch he disappears inside you, walls clinging greedily, juices dripping down his length and soaking his balls.

when your ass finally meets his thighs you’re both panting, your pussy stuffed so full you can feel him in your throat.

“fuck,” he breathes, head tipping back for a second before those sharp eyes lock on where you’re joined. “h-hahh.. there we go... taking me so well just to make me feel good.”

you whimper, trying to rock, but he stills you with firm hands. “slowly, love.” he slides one palm up your belly, pressing just below your navel. “feel that? that’s my cock inside you. all the way up here.”

“g-gumi, that’s— nngghh!” you whine, the pressure makes you clench hard, a filthy wet sound filling the room as more slick gushes out around him.

megumi groans softly, hips twitching. “good girl. now move— roll your hips. nice and slow.”

you do, tentative at first, grinding in small circles. every drag of his cock against your walls lights sparks behind your eyes, the thick ridge of his head catching on that spot that makes you see stars. your hands brace on his chest, nails digging into pale skin as you find a rhythm— up until just the tip stays inside, then sinking back down with a wet slap, his balls smacking against your ass.

“that’s it..” he rasps, voice rougher now. “ride me just like that. fuck— you’re so tight, baby, creaming all over me already.”

his gaze drops again, watching your puffy pink folds split open around him, clit swollen and glistening. “shit, you’re swallowing me whole.”

your thighs burn, but you can’t stop— bouncing harder and faster, chasing the heat coiling low in your belly. every drop down forces a soft grunt from his throat, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you so wide you feel split in half.

tears prick your eyes from the overwhelming fullness, but it’s so good, so fucking good.

megumi sits up suddenly, arms wrapping around your waist, mouth latching onto a nipple. he sucks hard, teeth grazing, and you cry out, hips stuttering. “keep going,” he growls against your skin, tongue flicking. “you’re doing so good.”

you sob his name, riding him faster now, the bed creaking under you. your pussy flutters, walls clamping down as you get closer, slick running down his shaft in sticky rivulets, pooling on his pelvis. he thrusts up to meet you once, twice, gentle but deep, and that’s all it takes.

“megumi—!” you wail, back arching as you come, cunt spasming wildly, gushing around him in hot pulses. he curses low and deep, hips bucking as your release milks him, and then he’s cumming too— thick ropes of cum flooding your insides, painting your walls white, leaking out around his base with every sloppy thrust he gives to ride it out.

you collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside your oversensitive cunt. megumi kisses your temple, fingers stroking your back in slow soothing lines.

“did you feel good...?” you asked, voice breathy against his neck.

“felt so good, baby,” he whispers, his voice soft again as he press a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “it’s my turn now, yeah?”

and then he was flipping you onto your back. “wanna make my girl feel good too.”

dogtooth. eren.

𓊆ྀི warnings .ᐟ + word count—7.0K, onlyfans!contentcreatorcouple!, originalblackfem!reader, boyfriend!erenyeager, bubblyslightlybimbo!femreader, gymrat!eren, gymrat!femreader, southerncoded!femreader, southerncoded!eren, aggressive!eren, dominant!eren, gruff!eren, sweet!eren, submissive!eren, size kink!, pet names!baby!bunny!, kitchen counter!sex, pussy eating!, face slapping!, fingering!, foot rubbing!, slightly aggressive sex!, dick sucking!, riding!, missionary!, stand and carry fuck! squirting!, creaming, condomless sex, minors aren’t welcome! 𓊇ྀི

メモ。— …it’s me again. i’m kinda obsessed w/ them? idk. somebody chain me up. part three of a new couple unlocked—part’s one + two, here. here. enjoy, love you. muah.

૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა

…..piscesbimbobunny is now live!

CINNAMON DUSTED FRECKLES FLUSH AN APPLE RED BENEATH THE STUDIO LIGHTS, CHEEKS ROUND AS YOUR GIGGLES FILL THE AIR BEFORE YOU EVEN PRESS RECORD.

The lens flickers to life, capturing the sprawling luxury villa kitchen in Seoul, Korea—warm golden light spilling over marble countertops and gleaming stainless steel appliances. The space is immaculate but lived-in; half-opened bags of Korean snacks clutter the island, a bottle of soju sits half-finished near the stove, and two wine glasses still glisten with condensation from earlier sips.  

Behind the camera, your boyfriend's deep voice rumbles—rough but tender—“Check connection for me, baby.” 

Then? You stumble into frame with clumsy giggles—dark curls bouncing as you adjust your lace camisole— sweetheart neckline hugging heavy tits that threaten to spill over, your dimples digging deep when you flash a wave at the chat already flooding in. 

BUNNY AND EREN ARE BACK! 

You play innocent, batting anime-thick lashes as you plop onto the stool beside Eren. He’s in a stupidly tight black tee that strains over his tattooed arms, fiddling with an apron string you’ve forced around his waist.

“‘Chat says ‘happy anniversary’”, his low voice rumbles, “‘Said they miss us.”

You lean into the camera, eyes sparkling with genuine emotion as your hands clasp together. 

“Awe—we missed you too, babies! Thank you so much for all the sweet messages—seriously, you guys have been so good to us." 

Your lips purse in a playful pout as you exhale dramatically, “Eren and I have just been...away, y'know? Enjoying each other." 

You perk up again, “But guess what? Thanks to all your support—” You clap excitedly, “A brand reached out to partner with him on meal prep kits!" 

The chat explodes instantly—

’REN DESERVES IT!

Eren rubs the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish despite his usual rough exterior—deep voice dropping even lower, “Thanks, everyone. But I wouldn’t have ‘none of this shit without you, baby."

That’s all it takes for you to melt entirely. 

With a soft whimper, you grab his chin and smother him in sugary little kisses between giggles until he grunts—startled but amused as you bounce onto his lap unannounced.

“Okay, so—I know we usually keep things…spicy for you guys," you tease, tapping one painted nail against his chest, “But in all honesty? ‘Ren likes us a little more private off camera."

Eren being Eren, squeezes at your hips in a way that means agreement—“But since you guys have been so supportive from day one? We figured—let's switch it up today!"

You slide off his lap—ignoring his reflexive tch at the loss of warmth— sashaying toward the counter with a natural sway of hips, bending just enough to give the chat an eyeful of your mini skirt before reaching into sleek bamboo drawers to pull out ingredients for hotteok ; a Korean stuffed pancake that was Eren's latest culinary obsession.

A bag of brown sugar glitters under studio lights alongside cinnamon sticks and roasted walnuts waiting to be crushed into filling. You brandish them like prizes toward the lens with dimpled glee, “We're making dessert tonight. And while we do?"

You pop onto tiptoes over the marble countertop, “Ask us anything you wanna know!”

Eren moves with that quiet, focused intensity of his—rolling up the sleeves of his shirt before deftly retying his bun, a few dark strands escaping to frame his sharp features. His hunter-green eyes flicker over the ingredients like he’s assessing a battlefield, methodical as always.  

“Baby—we should’ve gotten you a bigger size.” 

His grunt is exasperated—“This was the biggest size.” 

Cue your instant giggle as you tug at the hem of his shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal those unfairly sculpted abs—deep ink swirling across taut muscle.

“Four months of chicken and keto,” you announce,“And somehow? He’s even bigger.” 

“Imma’ heavy man, baby.”

He murmurs those words to you—leaning down to then catch your tongue between his teeth—just long enough for you to melt into a sweet little whimper against his lips.  

You pull back with mock sternness, patting his chest—“Okay, focus.” 

But your little smile ruins it entirely. 

“Go ahead, Chef.” 

His deep voice takes on that teaching cadence—patient but firm as he walks through mixing the dough as the first step. Meanwhile, you bounce on your toes beside him until your eyes flicker to chat again and light up—“Ooh! First question—” You tilt the phone screen toward Eren, “‘How did we meet?’”   

A soft smile curls over your lips as nostalgia hits.

“Hm…‘bout five years ago? Back in Baton Rouge…” 

You glance at Eren like you’re sharing a secret—already giggling at the memory,  “‘Ren was an exchange student looking for food outside of the dining hall at LSU.” 

He smirks, but doesn’t deny it.

“I thought he was so mean at first. All eyebrows and grumbles,” —your impression of early days Eren has the chat flooding —“‘Til I dragged him to this lil' Cajun spot off campus—”

Eren interrupts dryly while kneading dough—“She lied ‘bout how far it was.”

Your gasp is tiny—“So dramatic, it was one extra block!” 

His chuckle says otherwise, but when you press closer? His free arm wraps around your waist automatically—like even now? He still needs touch confirmation you're really there. Your fingers pause mid-air as you sprinkle cinnamon, a wistful smile softening your face.

 "Funny thing—back then, English wasn't even my first language," you admit softly, dusting sugar off your hands, “Fresh off the bayou with more Creole in my mouth than proper sentences." 

A quiet hum leaves Eren's throat—his hands never stopping their rhythmic kneading of dough as he listens like he's hearing it for the first time again.

"I didn’t talk to anybody at LSU ‘til this big ol' grumpy German exchange student kept popping up at my study hall—“ you nudge his shoulder playfully— “…’Ren learned Creole just to talk to me.” 

Eren shakes his head but doesn’t deny it—knuckles brushing flour onto the counter with practiced ease. His voice rumbles low when he finally speaks, “You said ‘Ça va?’ to me every damn mornin’. Only thing I understood was that pretty ass voice.”  

You lean toward the camera with a grin, translating for chat—“Ça va? means, How are you? in Creole.”  

A giggle bubbles up as you add, “And I was just being polite!”  

Eren lowly chuckles, “Kept thinkin’ if I learned her language, she’d finally look at me,” he admits—voice gruff but fond, “Took me weeks just to get her to stop dodgin’ my eyes.” 

His thumb brushes your chin in a quick reenactment of that first time he got your full attention—his smirk widening when you instinctively tilt into his touch even now.  

“Then? She agreed to one date and never left after.”   

The teasing glint in his eyes returns as he adds dryly—“I was real scrawny back then though—probably wasn’t even her type.” 

“That’s not true!" Your pout could rival a child's tantrum, “I loved you the same, even when your arms were noodles.”

You huff dramatically before melting against him again, muffling into his shoulder, “‘Sides…you were always pretty."

Eren’s voice drops to that low, rough murmur as he leans in—“You’re pretty.”  

The simple words have your cinnamon-dusted freckles darkening immediately, even as you bite back a smile and turn toward the camera again.  

“Oh—this one asks, ‘Wait, Eren’s German?’” 

You nod, “He is! But ‘difference is—his first language was English since his mom was American. ‘Still fluent in German, though.” 

You shoot him a playful side eye while kneading dough next to him, “He acts like it's not a big deal.” 

The chat erupts instantly with demands.

SAY SOMETHING IN GERMAN, ‘REN!

Eren exhales through his nose like they’re personally inconveniencing him, flicking flour off his hands and leaning toward the mic on impulse— 

“Ihr könnt mich alle mal.’” 

His tone drips with playful arrogance before adding flatly—“Means ‘happy anniversary.’” 

Of course, the chat floods with—

LIAR! THAT MEANS ‘YOU ALL CAN SUCK IT!’ 

Eren's deep voice guides you through the next steps—“Dough needs to rest. Brown sugar filling next." 

But between instructions? His hands grow distracted—cupping your jaw to steal slow, lazy kisses against your flour-dusted lips like he needs the contact more than air. Your murmured Love you’s slip out between each press of mouths—natural as breathing, forgotten mid-sentence when his teeth catch your lower lip just to feel you shiver. 

When you finally peel away to check the chat again, a nervous giggle escapes at the new question.

“First time you had sex? How was it?” 

You scratch idly at Eren’s scalp as he leans into your touch like a contented predator before answering softly—“‘Ren took my virginity. Wasn’t ‘til a year into dating, actually.” 

A sheepish shrug follows—“We weren't always…like this."

Your fingers slow in Eren’s hair as you process the comment—Touchy as y’all are, that’s a shock!

A soft sigh escapes you.

“Yeah…well, it wasn't always like this, either.”

Your thumb strokes absently at his temple while he nuzzles into your shoulder—his arms tightening around your waist in that grounding way of his. Always reading you.  

“Early days? ‘Ren was the clingy one—” You grin when he grunts against your skin—"And I was…the opposite.” 

Your voice quiets slightly, eyes flickering down to where his hands grip you like a vow.

“My family raised me with discipline—traditional values, not much affection. Sometimes even a hug from him made me freeze up."  

The confession sticks briefly in your throat before Eren gently rocks you side-to-side—wordlessly pulling you back to the present just by existing.

You giggle then; wet but warm—“But ‘Ren's family? They shove love right in your face." 

Your thumb swipes over his smirk, “Taught me to crave it.” 

Eren doesn’t say anything, just pressing a kiss below your ear that says everything anyway. 

His voice rumbles against your shoulder in rough German— “Ich liebe dich.”

You don’t need to look at him to know his expression—softened only for you. Your smile blooms instinctively as you translate for chat, fingers still buried in his hair—“He said ‘I love you.’”  

The moment lingers before Eren clears his throat and redirects—all business again. 

“Dough should be ‘proofed by now. Roll it out—stuffin’ goes in the center before sealing.” 

His hands guide yours briefly over the flour-dusted counter, demonstrating the motion with practiced ease.

A new question flashes on screen.

What’s the hardest part of being in the adult industry?

Eren answers before you can even glance up from shaping dough balls —voice sharpening like a blade unsheathed, “Outside of the judgment? The fuckin’ invasion. I can come on here and fuck my girl ‘cause that’s what we enjoy doin’.”

His thumb swipes sugar off your bottom lip possessively — “But that doesn’t change an ounce of respect I have for her. And sure as hell doesn’t mean randoms get to forget it either.”

He leans into the mic deliberately; tone dropping to something dangerously quiet—“Boundaries exist for a reason.” 

The tension breaks when you nonchalantly pop a walnut piece into his scowling mouth — unfazed as ever while kneading another pancake round between sticky fingers.

Comments flood the chat as expected.

TEA?

Your fingers pause mid-knead, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as the memories bubble up—unwanted but unavoidable.  

“Alright, so—there was this one time,” you begin, rolling the dough between your palms, “We took my family to Turks and Caicos—supposed to be all pristine beaches and stiff drinks, yeah?”  

Eren’s jaw tightens beside you before he even hears the rest—already knowing where this is going.  

“Guy recognizes us at dinner.” 

You shrug, voice flat now.

“Now—my folks already side-eye my whole career enough as it is,” a bitter little laugh escapes you—“So we politely declined when the man asked for a photo with us.”  

Your grip on the wooden spoon tightens involuntarily as your tone drops lower, “Then this nig—” 

You cut yourself off briefly before forcing composure back in place—“‘Had the nerve to lean over our food, grinning about how he wanted me to ride him while ‘Ren watched.”

You raise an eyebrow at chat exploding with—

AND WHAT DID EREN DO? 

You flick flour off your fingers nonchalantly before looking dead into the lens—“Baby…what do you think a six-foot-four rage case does when someone disrespects his woman in front of her parents?” 

That silence speaks louder than any graphic retelling ever could.

“Let's just say I’m banned from Turks and Caicos." 

Your response is almost instantaneous— “He's being dramatic. ‘Ren damn near flipped the table when he got up and the man took off—we ended up being escorted from the restaurant ‘cause Hulk wouldn't calm down.”

Eren flexes his biceps with an exaggerated grunt—“He wasn’t ready for all this pure muscle of chicken and keto!" 

He smacks your ass so hard it echoes, making you jolt with a glare.  

“What’s the next step for the hotteok, boy?" 

“You'll never know if you keep up that attitude."

“Y—“ you shoot daggers at him, “Eren Yeager.” 

The way you say his full name makes him chuckle darkly before relenting, explaining the frying process with amusement lacing every word.

Then chat distracts you again.

Favorite thing about each other?

You perk up instantly, batting those anime lashes at him—“Ooh, What's your favorite thing about me?"

His answer comes without hesitation—rough hands gripping your waist as he murmurs against your neck, “‘S how softhearted you stay, even when life tries to steal it from you."

Funny enough, your heart softens in that moment. He didn’t do sentimental well—but when he did? It wrecked you every time.

Eren murmurs low, his voice thick with something tender—“S’your turn, Bunny.” 

Your lashes flutter as you exhale softly. 

“The way you take care of me… I never feel unsafe with you.”  

His expression shifts—eyes darkening with that rare, unfiltered devotion. He leans in to press a slow kiss against the curve of your neck, lips dragging deliberately along your skin like he’s memorizing the taste of you all over again.  

You squirm when his jaw tickles, giggling breathlessly before nudging him— “C’monnn’, we gotta finish these treats or they won’t be ready for dessert!”  

Eren scoops a bit of the cinnamon-brown sugar filling onto the back of his palm, raising it to your lips with a gruff murmur to the camera—  

“Family tradition. Gotta’ make sure it’s sweet enough.”

You don’t just taste it—you indulge. Your tongue drags slowly along his skin before sucking his finger fully into your mouth, lips working around him in a way that has Eren growling low in his chest.  

The second you release him, he yanks you into a searing kiss by your waist—all teeth and possessive hunger until you push against his jaw with a breathless laugh.  

Still flushed, you turn back to chat with faux innocence—reading aloud, “Favorite positions and why?” 

Your shrug is casual, “Mine’s doggy. ‘Let’s me feel…every part of him.” 

Eren doesn’t let that slide for even two seconds before retaliating—voice thick with taunting intent, “I like puttin’ your little ass over my shoulders while I stand up—” He smirks at how instantly your eyes go wide—“But you can’t take that shit. Just whinin’,” —his thumb swipes your bottom lip mockingly— “Squirtin’ all on me ‘til—“

“Okay! Okay! Jesus, sorry.”

Eren smirks as you bury your burning face in his chest, his deep chuckle vibrating through you.  

“Hope that answered the question,” he murmured, “We don’t do it too often ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt her—but when she lets me? Fuck.” 

Then another question pops up—one that makes him pause for a second, then answering with that trademark bluntness. 

What's your favorite thing about not just having sex with her, but sharing it with other people? 

Eren exhales through his nose—not even hesitating. 

“The way people see her.” 

His thumb brushes your chin possessively—“Most watch ‘cause she’s pretty as hell—and yeah, that shit strokes my ego.” 

His grip tightens slightly—“But when they realize how smart she is while we work together? How much control she actually has?” 

A dark smirk curls over his lips—“That’s the shit that makes 'em stay.”

Your freckled face flushes as you bury it against Eren’s bicep—his deep chuckle rumbling through his chest once more as he presses a kiss to the crown of your curls.  

A question you didn’t expect.

Marriage? Kids?

You move to fry the hotteok, but let out a tiny squeak when grease pops against your skin. Instantly, Eren’s hand catches yours, lifting your palm to his mouth so he can press a slow, soothing kiss over the sting. 

“C’mere. Stand behind me.”

You don’t argue—just wrap your arms around his waist and press yourself flush against his back, letting him take over at the stove while you nuzzle into his shoulder blades like they were made for this exact purpose. 

When he picks up where he left off,  his voice is steady with conviction—“A day never went by where I didn't think about marryin' her."

The sizzle of frying dough fills the pause before he continues, “‘Got a big ass family... want that shit passed on for generations. Bunny's an only child—I want her to know what real love feels like."

Your arms tighten around him reflexively at that. 

He doesn’t even stumble under your grip—just keeps flipping golden-brown pancakes effortlessly before finishing with rough-edged sincerity, “She's my fuckin' wife already, paper or not. But she wants us to be devoted in front of God first.”

Eren’s voice softens slightly as he flips another perfectly golden hotteok, clarifying for the viewers—  

“She ‘don’t feel comfortable still doin' this when we got kids runnin' around and our marriage tied to faith. But right now?"

He glances over his shoulder at you still clinging to his back—his smirk warm and private, “She's happy. Travelin’, filmin’ just us and the world."

The admission lingers in the air before he adds quietly—almost too low for the mic to catch— 

“...Can't wait to hold her swollen belly, though." 

His free hand drops briefly to cradle an invisible curve against your stomach before returning to cooking like it was nothing.

Your breath hitches against him as Eren continues gruffly, “Gonna see her cry even more than she already does... ‘Love her harder than I already have."

The words are raw in a way that makes your arms tighten around him even more—like if you squeeze hard enough, this feeling might never fade. And judging by how his palm presses over yours where they're locked at his waist? He doesn't want it to either.

Eren gently pulls you forward as the last hotteok finishes frying, his large hands reaching for toppings—cinnamon dusting, crushed walnuts, a swirl of whipped cream—all while you murmur a sweet, “Thank you, baby." 

You lean back against the counter with a satisfied sigh—“That's all the answers we got for now, guys. Let’s try this hotteok!” 

Taking an exaggerated bite, your giggles bubble up immediately—cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk as you nod enthusiastically, “Mmf—so good!” 

Sugar clings to your fingers as you absentmindedly swipe at them before leaning toward the chat again—heavy tits pressing into the counter’s edge when someone asks about your top. You brighten instantly.

“Oh, I got this from this adorable boutique in Seoul!"

You glance over at Eren just as he takes a bite of the hotteok—but there’s a shift in him. 

That usual cocky ease is gone, replaced by something darker, more intense. You rub his arm gently in silent question, but when your eyes finally meet his?  

That look. 

It hits you like a punch to the ribs—his gaze isn’t just hungry anymore. It’s devouring. Every answer you two gave tonight flashes behind those green eyes—every confession, every tease—and it all condenses into one brutal realization for him. 

He loves you so much it pisses him off.

It’s the little things that make you realize—he swipes cinnamon sugar off the corner of your lip roughly before he exhales through his nose like he’s trying to rein himself back in. But then? You turn away from him entirely—giggling as you hop onto the kitchen island to get closer to the chat.

Your legs cross gently, thighs pressing together as you adjust your top absentmindedly—the fabric tightening over full tits that bounce slightly with each little movement. Eren watches silently from behind while cracking his knuckles once…twice…

Your curls spill over your shoulders as you lean slightly to read another question—What did y'all study in school?  

A playful grin tugs at your lips as you answer, “Eren was a double major—kinesiology and culinary. That’s why he’s the one doing most of the cooking."

You giggle before adding, “Funny enough, I was an English lit major before switching to bioengineering—"

Before you can finish, Eren moves beside you with slow intent. 

His large hands slide around your waist, tugging your small frame flush against him without breaking stride in conversation. Your arm automatically loops around his neck like second nature while your fingers idly toy with the hair at his nape—soothing him absently as you keep talking to chat.

But then his mouth finds your throat.

At first it's just a teasing press of lips that makes you smile mid-sentence…until he drags his tongue along a slow, torturous path up the column of your neck. The second he sucks just below your ear? Your breath stutters visibly and those lashes flutter shut for half-a-second too long. You shiver when he deliberately takes even longer on the next open-mouthed kiss—forcing every nerve under your skin to alight with sensation, the chat remaining none-the-wiser about why words briefly fail you.

“‘Ren…c’monnn, baby.” 

As you try to regain your composure and continue answering questions, Eren’s hands slide under your skirt—slow, deliberate. His thick fingers hook into the waistband of your panties just enough to make you gasp softly before he drags them to the side slightly—just enough to expose the flushed pink beneath.  

Your toes curl against the counter’s edge instinctively—hips shifting as if they can’t decide whether to press into his touch or shy away from it. But Eren doesn't let up; he swipes once through soaked fabric with a roughness that has you biting back a whimper,  clutching at his shirt like it's the only thing keeping you upright.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your neck—voice all honey-dark promise—“Keep talkin', baby. ‘Ain’t tryna’ bother you.” 

Then comes that gruff murmur against the shell of your ear, “‘Missed your pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

And that?

Your breath hitches as Eren’s fingers glide roughly over your folds through the fabric—squelch—the sound loud enough to make your face burn with embarrassment. Your hips jerk instinctively, a soft squeal escaping as you squirm against his touch.  

Eren’s growl is pure, sinful satisfaction. 

“Oooh, shit—” His fingers press harder, spreading your arousal shamelessly over the lace, “You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby.”  

You clutch at his shoulders helplessly, burying your pout against his bicep with a whimpered apology to chat—“‘‘M sorry, guys…” 

But Eren doesn't stop there; he hooks his thumb into the soaked lace of your panties and tugs them fully aside—revealing swollen lips glistening under studio lights.

“Oh fuck.” 

His voice is gravel-deep with awe as he drags two fingers down slowly from clit to entrance, just to watch how easily they slide through dripping heat.

“Look at this shit.” 

Your inner thighs are already glossy when he leans down again—spitting directly onto where you're most sensitive before pressing your foreheads together in some twisted mimicry of intimacy—then, he’s sinking two thick digits inside, so torturously slow. 

“Nngh!” You sob weakly, hands flying to grip his wrist as if that would stop him, doing nothing more than trembling pathetically as those calloused pads rub exactly where it hurts best.

Eren swallows every broken noise in a bruising kiss when he murmurs against lips—“All those eyes on you…” 

A cruel curl of fingers has your back arching off the counter as he finishes darkly, “Give ‘em that show they wanna see."

The moment Eren’s fingers sink even deeper, your body arches—betraying you with a weak little sob as your pussy clenches shamelessly around him. The wet squelch of his thrusts fills the air, messy and loud, and your legs tremble where they’re spread wider against the counter.  

“U—ughnn...!" 

Your plea gets lost in his neck as you nuzzle helplessly against him, palm gripping his bicep like it's the only thing tethering you to reality. But Eren? He just watches, lips curling into that infuriating glare before he turns toward the camera—voice thick with arousal.

“Remember that question earlier?"

His fingers twist inside you cruelly on every word—just to feel how your walls flutter in response, “‘Bout my favorite thing when pleasurin' her?"

A slow pump of his hand has tears gathering at your lashes before he growls—

“This shit right fuckin' here.” 

His thumb swipes over your clit once—just enough to make you jerk with another pitiful noise.

“When she can't even take it..."

Another deep stroke has your back bowing off the counter entirely.

“…But this greedy little cunt's jus’ sobbin', beggin' for me anyway.”

And God help you—the worst part is knowing he's right.

Eren’s gaze burns into the camera, his voice gravel rough with arrogance as his fingers pound into you without mercy—  

“Look at how she just submits to me. Brain fucked stupid.”

His mouth hovers right above yours, lips brushing as he growls—  

“Open m’fuckin' pussy wider." 

Tears spill fat and hot down your cheeks, your legs shaking as you obey instantly—spreading yourself even more for him, every weak gasp punched out of you in time with his brutal thrusts. The obscene slap-wet pfft of your pussy swallowing his fingers fills the air shamelessly.  

He sneers down at you—hot breath mingling between open mouths—“You love me, huh?”   

For a second, all that comes out is airless whimpers until he crooks those fingers hard inside and suddenly— 

“I—I love y—you—” spills out like a broken prayer in between choked gasps. Your body seizes around him violently when your orgasm rips through you completely unprompted —gushing so hard around his knuckles it practically forces them halfway back out while juices dribble messily onto the counter below.

You can't even control it anymore—your voice cracks pathetically under another wave—“Il—loveyou...loveyouloveyou—” each word weaker than last one as if every ounce of sanity got fucked clean from your skull in a matter of seconds. 

Eren’s hand fists in your curls, yanking your head back with a dominance that makes your thighs clench. His other hand shoves his pants down just enough to free his cock—heavy, already glistening at the tip, veins straining as it bobs thick and impatient between you.  

“I give her the control she deserves,” he grunts to the camera, “‘Let her use me however she needs.” 

His grip tightens in your hair until your scalp burns—  

“But sometimes? I want shit my fuckin' way.” 

The moment those words leave his lips, he drags you forward by the roots of your curls until his cockhead bumps against trembling lips—“Come swallow my shit," he commands darkly, voice roughened by lust, “‘Get it wet ‘fore I go in." 

You barely have time to gasp before he rams past your lips—your throat stretching obscenely around him on first thrust as spit dribbles messily down chin within seconds of him pistoning into your mouth. The sounds are fucking filthy — GLRRK!, GLRRK!— each one louder than last as Eren fucks up into weeping heat without pause or mercy. 

And the worst part?

He watches every second through hooded eyes like this isn't even about pleasure anymore; it's about proving a point neither one of you will ever forget.

The chat explodes—messages flooding in too fast to read as they witness you stuffed full, tears pricking at the corners of your swollen eyes while thick curls spill around your face. Your cheeks bulge around Eren's cock, saliva glistening down your chin and onto your heaving chest.  

He drags his cock out just enough for you to choke on a gasp, slick lips clinging desperately as he grunts down at you—

“‘This shit yours, huh?”

Your answer is immediate—fingers trembling but determined as they wrap around the base of him, twisting in time with sloppy sucks at his leaking tip. The drool and spit make lewd shlick-shlick sounds echo through the room between muffled whimpers—your pitiful little nod sending fresh arousal coiling hot in Eren’s gut when paired with how greedily you keep jerking him off between messy swallows.

Eren’s voice is a dark, possessive growl as he watches you struggle around him—  

“‘Shit don’t matter if her throat sore, jaw clenched. She’ll keep goin’ ‘cause I fuckin' said so.” 

His head tilts back with a sharp groan the moment you force yourself deeper—gagging loudly as you swallow him whole like your life depends on it. His hips jerk forward on instinct, nearly knocking against the back of your throat before he sneers down at you cockily—

“‘Never gonna find another dick this fuckin’ big.”

You whimper around him but still manage a wet giggle—your fingers smacking his length playfully against your flushed face before whimpering in desperation and shoving him right back into your drooling mouth. The way your throat flutters, struggling but obediently taking every inch? It makes his jaw clench hard enough to crack.

Because nobody else gets this version of you—desperate, messy, his. 

Eren yanks you back onto the counter with a deep grunt, your legs hoisted effortlessly into the air as he spreads them wider—giving the camera a full, shameless view of your glistening folds. His tongue drags up your soaked slit in one long, filthy stroke before swirling slowly around your clit—lips sealing tight as he sucks and twists in vicious little circles that make you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.  

Your hands scramble for purchase on the counter behind you, nails digging into nothing as his mouth works relentlessly—fucking his tongue against every trembling nerve until all that comes out is a broken whine—“‘R—Ren…fuck…” 

Eren pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, his lips slick with your arousal as he addresses the audience with that signature arrogant drawl—  

“Look at the way she just lets me bury my face in this pussy."

His tongue swipes up your folds again, slurping loudly just to emphasize how wrecked you already are. His gaze locks onto yours as he nods toward your infamous pout—the one that has your lips trembling, eyes pleading—even as you keep holding those legs up for him like the good girl you are. 

“That little pout? Fuckin' lethal." 

And then he buries himself back between your thighs with zero mercy—shaking his head side-to-side against your clit while low grunts vibrate through every stroke of his tongue. The sounds of him feasting on you fill the room, muffled only when he growls directly into soaked skin—  

“‘She loves this shit.”

You can barely process it before he’s circling his head messily again, lapping at everything like a man starved while keeping those thick fingers hooked under knees to hold them open wider.

Your head lolls back helplessly—fingers pinching and tugging at stiffened nipples on instinct as broken sighs spill out—“F—Feels so…so good…!”

Eren moves with predatory intent, climbing onto the wide island counter and caging your smaller body beneath him—his massive frame looming over you like something monstrous, something hungry. You whimper softly beneath him, already missing the cruel heat of his mouth. .  

“‘Must want me to fuck that pout off your face.”

A firm smack lands against your cheek—not enough to truly hurt, but enough for the sting to linger as he growls one simple command, “Fix it." 

Instantly, you relax your expression into something obedient—whispering a shaky, “Sorry…”  even as his cock slides between slick folds below. Your lower body trembles when he nudges at your entrance—your tight warmth fluttering uselessly around just the tip before he grunts in amusement.

“Always fuckin’ complainin’ every time I push in...”

Then with one brutal roll of his hips—he’s sheathing himself inside to the hilt.

Your back arches off the counter immediately at how deep he fills you—your pussy struggling desperately to stretch around him while Eren spreads your thighs wider against cold marble.

His voice is gritted teeth and dark satisfaction when he mutters down at you—

“Actin’ like this shit don't belong t’ me.”

Eren feels your small hands press hesitantly against his lower stomach—trying to ease the overwhelming stretch—but he clicks his tongue and grips your wrists in one rough motion, pinning them against your own chest as he growls—

“Tuck ‘them fuckin’ hands." 

Your breath hitches, fingers curling helplessly against yourself as you nod, eyes rolling back when he finally starts moving, dropping his thick cock into you with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips. Your pussy clenches around him desperately—greedy even as tears prick at the corners of your squeezed-shut eyes.  

A high-pitched whine escapes you when he bottoms out again, and Eren grins, savoring the way your entire body trembles beneath him like a live wire. You pout up at him pitifully between ragged breaths—voice cracking under the weight of pleasure already threatening to undo you. 

“M—mygod…Eren.”

Eren leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs in German—“Du weißt genau, wo deine Hände sein müssen." 

You know exactly where your hands need to be.

Your body trembles as you obey instantly—fingers uncurling from your chest and instead reaching down to hook around your ankles. You tug yourself into an exposed arch, legs folding at the sides of your head as you give him everything. 

Your mouth falls open in a sloppy gasp—voice slurring with each punishing thrust—“O-oh my g–God…yes…!” 

Eren smacks his palm against your ass cheek beneath you—the sharp clap of skin-on-skin making you jolt. 

He grunts through clenched teeth, “She’ll fight me...” His hips snap forward brutally on the next thrust, “But she’ll take this shit, too.”

Your hand scrambles for his hip weakly—tugging him deeper even as overstimulation makes tears spill over, proving his filthy point. The moment he drops all his weight into you again? Your head lolls back like it's too much to bear...only for you to snap forward seconds later with a shattered whimper as your thighs slap violently against his abdomen without restraint.

Eren’s powerful arms scoop you up effortlessly, his grip bruising as he plants his feet flat on the ground before dragging your legs over his shoulders—forcing you into that deep, arching position you hate.

“‘R—” 

But before you can even whine his name fully, “Shut that shit the fuck up.”

Tears spring to your eyes instantly as strong fingers force your face into the crook of his neck while he sinks back inside without warning. You sob weakly against hot skin as one hand fists in your hair, the other clamping onto your hipbone—controlling every movement with ruthless precision. His strength is terrifying like this; no matter how much you squirm or whimper beneath him, Eren just bounces you harder onto cock like a punishing rhythm...flesh slapping together obscenely under studio lights while drool smears across collarbones from where lips part around silent cries. 

His voice comes out soothing, yet the aggression of fucking you is like no other. 

”So verdammt eng..."

So fucking tight.

“Nicht weinen."

Don't cry.

Eren's gaze snaps up to the camera—eyes blazing with arrogant, possessive pride as chat explodes in real-time, witnessing you utterly wrecked against him. Your face stays hidden, buried in the crook of his neck like a shameful little secret—only muffled sobs and the desperate scrape of nails against his skin giving away just how gone you are.  

But he won’t let you hide.  

A rough hand fists into your curls again and tugs, forcing your head back to expose tear-streaked cheeks, swollen lips parted around hiccuping breaths. His other hand grips the full globes of your ass hard enough to bruise as he bounces you down onto cock with zero mercy—the filthy slap, slap, slap of skin echoing like a metronome gone feral.

“Show ‘em that fuckin’ face,” he snarls against your mouth—sealing lips over yours in brutal kiss meant more suffocate than soothe. And when those brown eyes finally lock onto the lens? There it is.

The perfect broken pout—your expression twisted between overwhelmed pleasure-pain while surrendering completely beneath Eren’s dominance...until your orgasm rips through violently without warning. Your body seizes mid-air before gushing around him messily—gasps dissolving into pathetic whines as thighs quiver uncontrollably from oversensitivity already setting deep under skin.

“F—fuhhhhck…Daddy,” spills out between shuddering breaths followed by another weak sob, “I’m cumming.” 

Eren doesn't give you a second to recover. With one last sharp smack to your ass, he hauls you out the air and onto his lap on a chair nearby—his cock still buried deep as your legs tremble around him. 

“Finish me off,” he growls, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks, “Hurry the fuck up.” 

You whimper weakly but obey—toes curling against his thick thighs for leverage as you start bouncing yourself on him with shaky desperation. Your hands grip the plush flesh of your own asscheeks, spreading them wider just to feel him deeper, while Eren watches you through hooded eyes—not lifting a finger except as you do all work chasing his release.  

“She’ll bounce on my dick ‘til I fuckin’ cum.”

A particularly rough drop of hips has you choking out a high-pitched moan—“‘Cause I own her.”

Tears drip down flushed cheeks, yet you still find yourself mewling pathetically between gasps—you’re spanking your own ass a few times more in a needy, sultry rhythm—tits jiggling close to his face as you swirl your hips down.

Eren's palms slide up the curve of your back as he begins to control your movements, forcing you down harder onto his cock with each punishing tug. His voice is rough with possession—  

"Always gonna take care of her. Fed. Fucked. Loved." 

Each word punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin as you ride him desperately, “That's what keeps her suckin' me dry like this."

Your eyes flicker back toward the camera—cheeks flushed, but a sweet smile plays at swollen lips while your ass twerks shamelessly above him, each downward grind drawing a guttural groan from his chest. You spank yourself lightly once more—an arrogant little show just for him before giggling through a slurred whisper—  

“'M yours, baby..."

Eren snarls, fingers clawing into your hips as his head knocks back against the chair with pleasure bordering pain. The possessive fire in his gut ignites completely when he hears those words spill past trembling lips—hands flying to grip your waist tighter while slamming upward one last time before pulling out abruptly.

Thick ropes of cum stripe across your asscheeks messily—your giggles turning breathless when large palms smear it even lower, rubbing sticky warmth between already ruined folds just prove how thoroughly his you are.

Eren’s hands instantly shift from rough to gentle, his calloused fingers tilting your chin up as he searches your face with a tenderness that contradicts everything primal just moments before.  

“‘I smacked too hard anywhere?”

His voice is low—almost hesitant—as thumbs brush over tear-stained cheeks, checking for even the faintest sign of real discomfort. You melt beneath his touch, shaking your head with a smile so sweet it makes his chest ache. 

“‘‘M perfect,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before giggling softly—  

“Best anniversary I could’ve asked for.”  

The tension in Eren's shoulders collapses at that—his usual arrogance dissolving into something vulnerable as he buries his face against where your neck meets shoulder, like he’s the one overwhelmed now. Your fingers card through dark strands gently while your other hand lifts toward camera lazily with a playful wave—

“Hi, sweet babies…”

Eren tucks his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his usual cocky bravado replaced with a rare shyness—body still thrumming from the intensity of it all. His palms slide slowly up and down your back in quiet reassurance, though he refuses to lift his head for the camera just yet.  

You grin at the screen as comments flood in, giggling softly before murmuring—  

“They have one more question for us…” 

His only response is a low hum against your skin, but those warm hands continue tracing soothing circles between shoulder blades—telling you silently that he’s listening. 

What does love mean to both of you?

Eren finally shifts just enough to press a kiss below your ear before settling back into hiding like an overgrown cat, seeking comfort after being too loud earlier. You smile, tilting toward the lens with a softening gaze, fingers combing through disheveled strands behind him lovingly. 

“Love means…getting fed scrambled eggs at three in the morning because someone heard my stomach growl.” 

A pause.

A muffled grumble from where Eren’s face stays stubbornly buried, “…Means she steals all my hoodies but I buy ‘em bigger anyway so they drown her.” 

Another pause—before both voices overlap without thinking—

“‘Means mine.” 

And really? That sums it up better than anything else ever could.

You nuzzle your nose gently against Eren’s, feeling his breathing steady as he curls even deeper into you—his body molding against yours like two perfect pieces finally clicked together. You can feel the goosebumps rising on his skin beneath your fingertips, his usual arrogance softened into something tender and raw in this quiet aftermath.

With a contented sigh, you turn just enough to flash the camera one last smile—eyes sparkling with unshakable certainty as you murmur—

“We’re gonna go, guys. We’ll see you after we leave Seoul, okay?” 

The livestream flickers for a second—just long enough for the world to catch your final whisper before it cuts off completely. 

“Biggest advice for today? Wait for your person.” 

A beat. A breath.

Your fingers lace through Eren's hair without looking down—already knowing every scar, every freckle, every hidden corner of him by heart.

“They're at the ends of the earth searching for you, too.”

18+ MDNI, light smut - telling older!toji that the sheets are too wet

“toji.”

you whisper it like you’re on a secret mission, even though your mouth is basically pressed to his neck. he grunts in response, heavy arm slung over your waist, the sheets tangled around both your legs. his voice is deep and groggy and half-dead.

“what.”

you shift a little. wriggle.

he tightens his hold on you immediately, like a warning. “don’t start. ‘s not even been an hour.”

you blink in the dark. “i can’t sleep.”

“why not.”

“…the bed’s wet.”

he groans, dragging a hand over his face. “baby. yeah. that’s your fault.”

“i know,” you pout, nudging your forehead against his shoulder. “but it’s cold now.”

he cracks one eye open. stares at the ceiling like he’s re-evaluating every choice that led him here.

“you’ve got the whole bed and you’re laying right in it.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble. “i keep rolling into it.”

you try to turn over again and make a noise like a distressed cat. the sheets are damp. your thighs are sticky and you can still feel his cum deep inside you. everything smells like sweat and sex and his cologne. it’s too warm and too cold at the same time. you feel like a soggy, ruined princess and you just want to cry about it.

“toji,” you whisper again.

he growls under his breath. “you’re lucky i love you.”

he rolls over, arm flexing around your waist, and you squeak as he shifts your whole body on top of his chest like you weigh nothing. you sprawl over him like a starfish. immediately better.

“you’re comfy,” you murmur, smushing your cheek against his collarbone.

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re obsessed with me.”

he doesn’t reply. just runs a slow hand down your back, over your ass, fingers trailing lazily between your bare thighs.

his thumb presses up against your slit where he can now feel some of his seed, thick and hot, begin to trickle out from the sudden movement.

“you’re still dripping,” he says softly.

you whimper.

his finger presses just a little against your clit. “can feel it. messy girl.”

“’s not my fault,” you mumble, already halfway to sleep again. “you put it there.”

“and i’ll do it again,” he mutters, kissing your hair.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. THREE’S A CROWD!—poly!bfs! geto suguru & gojo satoru

.ᐟ +18, established poly, cunnilingus, comfort smut

you absolutely hated your job. you hated the way that place made you feel, you hated the way your body ached on the way to clock out. from your know-it-all colleagues to a rigid schedule that didn’t even allow you to catch a breath. you could go on and on about what you despised at work. the only problem was that their asses would owe you overtime by the end.

stumbling into your shared apartment, you’d slammed the front door particularly harsh one evening. the frame rattled behind you as you sashayed past the living room-right where your two boyfriends slouched off the couch.

it seemed each evening you got in later and later. the echos of your steps only becoming harsher against the floorpanels. what was once their overjoyous girl who used to leap into their arms and greet them with kisses became—this.

despite being in the next room, your movements are noisy and turbulent. one might’ve mistaken them for a fire evacuee collecting her belongings. what could’ve possibly taken your position from bad to worse?

two voices transcended into one as they called out to you. “what does she got going on?”, day questioned night, gojo then scratching at the side of his ruffled locs.

geto was the more assertive of the two. his fingertips long frozen over the pads of his black controller. rhetorical questions weren’t taken lightly around these parts, the dark-haired male already standing from a flattened cushion.

geto excused himself as he traced the hot trail you blazed throughout their home a couple seconds earlier. no more than five minutes later he returned with his baby in his arms.

he had to practically herd you back out to the couch. by time as your tired body curled up on top of his...you were sobbing into his chest.

“rough day, huh? let it out, sweetheart. we’re right here for ya. whenever you’re ready to talk about it…”, gojo idly sat by your side, now rubbing your back along with your other boyfriend as you wheezed up gibberish. clearly, a tsunami of emotions hit you at your most vulnerable. all it took was one soft ‘are you okay’ to release the floodgates.

nodding vigorously into a now damp crew neck, “thin ice. i’ve been working my butt off for three years now! then- that bitch had the audacity to just pop a head in and tell me- i’m on thin fucking ice”, like a record player your manager’s words were recited through a muffled cry.

“they should be lucky we don’t burn that place to the ground”

“fuck all of those assholes in that lame establishment. ive been telling you to just stay your ass in the house”

a string of passionate encouragement followed your words in shock. at this point your mind was blurry- you couldn’t quite distinguish who said what and which hand belonged to which. geto’s heavy chest whispered sweet nothings beneath the shell of your ear. thump, thump, thump—each heartbeat serenadingly calm against your tensed body. he had long wrapped you up in a wool throw, palm running along the flat of your back.

several silent moments passed, but it was clear that you were still deep in overthought. one sob too many led gojo to parting his soft pout, again.

“gonna cry ya’self into a freakin’ puddle, baby. c’monn, look at me,” two slender digits snaked around your chin, the calloused padding then wiped away runoff tears. “let us help you, m’kay? just wanna help our pretty girl out…stressing over a job she doesn’t even need”, geto chimed in beneath you, already peeling the covers off of your frame. it was as if the two were fused by the brain- the darker-haired man lifting your hips as gojo dragged your bottoms to your feet. the fabric is discarded into a pile on the carpet.

fat tears stilled at the brim of your waterline, allowing the two to adjust you until you were just in a pair of panties. geto helped ball up your shirt past your navel while his best friend thumbed at the wet spot between your thighs.

“satoru, it’s embarrassing,” you attempted to paw at his wrist which only earned you an icy-cold stare from below. “you know better than that, sweetheart. you’re way too sexy to be getting shy on us now,” the vibrations from the chest pressed against your back forces you to gulp up a groan. his wide palms slip down the backside of your thighs; right until he’s behind your knees. strong hold then pulling them up and apart to give gojo unabashed access.

your cheeks swell with warmth as the white-haired man peeled a corner of your center free. the thin fabric stuck to you like glue, a couple seconds of prying finally allowing him to drag it past your hips. “pretty ass pussy needs me just as bad as i need her”, a pointer and a middle finger spread your sticky lips apart. strings of syrupy arousal barricaded your slit.

gojo’s head eagerly ducks as his tongue flattened to swipe through the mess—right until he’s latching onto your swollen clit with suction. that’s when your limbs grow antsy, geto acted as an unfazed restraint. gojo was so unbelievably greedy when it came to eating pussy—your pussy. his thick tongue goes from swirling into a figure 8 to pistoning in and out of your clenching hole. he’s firmed the muscle up to penetrate past your weeping walls. then he’s softening the blow by pressing kisses all along your sensitive cunt.

geto, on the other hand, is so content with having your pretty face all to himself. his head cranes yours into his long neck. his wide lips repeatedly pressed peck after peck into your hot face. “satoru’s got our pretty girl squirming. let it out for us, pretty girl. fucking his tongue like that…chase that fucking nut, baby,”

he doesn’t have to tell you twice, a helpless croak came from your throat as you messily bucked your core to the textured friction. atlast that stubborn knot in the pit of your belly released down the sides of gojo’s dripping face. he laps and laps only asking for more as geto pressed down on your torso.

the air grew stuffy and muggy—all three of you now breathing hard as an attempt to calm down. your boys knew when their sensitive girl was exhausted,“you did such a good job for us. now let suguru go run us a nice hot bath-”

“wait why do i-”

“wit’ my lavender epsom?”

“with your lavender epsom, baby,” gojo added on, still pressing loving kisses into your supple inner thighs.

“i love you both so freaking much”.

pairing; onyankopon x BLACK!INFLUENCER!READER

synopsis; you try and fail to record for your channel but a surprise visitor distracts you.

cw! 18+, black!fem!reader, plug!onyankopon, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), p in v sex, consensual filming, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, fiancé!onyankopon, rimming

“welcome back, pixies”, you pause slightly, voice syrupy-sweet, “…to another get ready with me!”, curved acrylics wave at the camera’s lens.

sunday evenings were reserved for you and onyankopon’s date nights. no matter how hectic your schedules get- time was made.

“today i’m jus’ doing a quick light beat. a lil’ something for my man and i’s bowling date”, draped behind you is a lavender-padded backdrop. the plush material lines a corner of your shared bedroom.

opposite of that sits a pink Sony ZV-1, with the motion-tracking tripod to match. the very one you swooned over to onyankopon after watching numerous reviews. that very same Christmas the heavy box sat underneath the tree with a sparkly bow attached.

nerves still manage to swell in the pit of your belly, despite this being your tenth video for your channel. there were only going to be 20,000 eyes on you, after all. while getting dolled-up was second nature, showcasing it to the digital world required transparency.

“as always I’m startin’ with my Mac Studio Radiance Primer. y’all when i tell you this thing acts like a barrier on my skin”, you swear by the white bottle in the palm of your hand.

*squirt*- the milky substance spurts out on your left cheekbone. fingertips then massaging it into the copper freckles that splatter across your skin.

a leopard-print robe clings onto your body’s grooves. this newfound hobby of yours is a therapeutic one. something that helps the time passes when your fiancé is outside.

it’s comical just how soon the golden doorknob spins in your peripheral. the camera merely picks up step two as a shadow overcasts the leftside of the frame.

you don’t bat an eye in the man’s direction. onyankopon was keen on greetings no matter how short the distance. having already made several guest appearances on the channel thus far.

“‘m filmin’, ony,” you whine, lips betraying you as they spread into a soft grin. a deep chuckle rolls off of his pink tongue. thick digits already wrapping around your chin to bring your spacey eyes upwards. a tinge of weed lingers on him. the subtle scent wafting in with his rich, musky cologne.

the look you share makes your brush crumble to your lap. onyankopon’s pupils are filled with adornment each time they find you. after a long day of serving the block he gets to come home to you, who’s barely lifted a french tip. he leads a life of chaos to afford your luxurious one. to assure his baby can simply sit before a camera and look pretty. It’s the soft life you deserve; the least he can provide for someone so selfless.

“i know, ma. jus’ wanted to see if you was straight. to apologize for dipping out before you was up s’all,” he jests with sincerity, despite the amusement of his southern twang. it’s almost enough for you to believe him, yet his hold lingers on your tilted chin.

onyankopon will never get over how much your lash tech loves you. how each wispy strand highlights the shape of your doe eyes.

a nod is returned, not a hair misplaced in your slickback bun as you purse your lips together. the telling gesture causes him to swoop down and plant a kiss with his full ones.

he leaves—with nothing but the sheen from your lip balm with him. straight to the connected en suite onyankopon goes. the sound of water trickles softly a couple seconds later.

communication isn’t needy with you two. he makes his presence known, acknowledges your feelings, and then his sweatpant-clad thighs are out of the frame. soon, you’re peering back at that red dot. it picks up every single thing, except for the makeup look it’s intended to catch.

a soft sigh escapes your disheveled head as you duck underneath the vanity to find a lost brush. distractions gloss over as you apply foundation into the pores of your prepped skin. you speak fluently as your wrist works in the layers of your velvety base. viewers are assured that you’re using your go-to products; Fenty, Mac, and various other brands scattered messily.

somewhere between placing down your dark-cocoa liner and reaching for clear gloss—the bathroom door swings open. not just a creak, but the wood is forcefully pushed against. this causes your neck to snap towards the side of the camera. low and behold heavy steps knock against the acacia floor panels.

onyankopon’s rich skin glistens with wet droplets. his broad stature is bare with the exception of it’s intricate ink. a bushy happy trail leads to the fuzzy towel around his waist. he’s intentional as he makes his way to the spongy mattress. knowing movements pretend as if a gaze isn’t fixated on his flexing back muscles. curse how you melt beneath yourself- ogling at his back as he pays you no mind. at least that’s what your fiancé wants you to believe. teasingly he sorts through a pile of shirts in search for tonight’s contender. simultaneously, your passionate narration dies into a deafening silence.

“thought filmin’ was so damn important, ‘member, baby?”, he speaks deliberate and sarcastic. you can almost hear the smirk stretched across his face.

abruptly a needless reminder bounces off the bedroom wall. yet onyankopon’s shaded back is still turned towards you.

you snarl, “well it’s kinda hard with all the noise in my background”, covered arms now rest against your rising chest. a pregnant pause floods the space right before he’s completely turned and facing you. a lump settles in your throat as the giant paces the room to your side. annoyance has taken over his features, brows now furrowed to crease his nose bridge.

“aye, quit all that whining,” he retorts, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, betraying his playful intent. as if the towel-ridden man wasn’t trying to get you all riled up in your seat. that previous hold on your chin is returned. this time onyankopon’s opposite palm goes to drop his towel. “make me,” your counterattack is the final one that leaves your two-tone lips, eyes flickering between his challenging stare and the impending peril as the towel loosens its grip around his waist.

there’s no time to recount how you’ve gotten here. with the weight of onyankopon’s size drooping his engorged tip in your face. now an eucalyptus soap fills your nostrils, left hand already wrapped around his thick base. up and down—you drag along the ridges of his veins up and down. your torso is already twisted to face him. peach bottom pressing into your soles as you turn towards him-thighs flattening beneath you. the velvet bench to your vanity was now being used as a prop.

teasingly, your lips part an inch apart. just wide enough to press open-mouthed kisses onto the slit of onyankopon’s tip. pre-cum oozes out only to be lapped up by your hungry tongue. “w-what’s all this teasing? you was just big n’ bad a minute ago,” his fist wraps around himself, the other pressed your head closer. a soft shriek escapes before onyankopon clogs the back of your throat. his chiseled hips thrust, giving you no time to prepare yourself. he sets a pace that’s mean and ruthless—it has your saliva foaming around his deep veins like a fountain.

in a teary-eyed blink, your mouth is stuffed full. he’s so relentless as he drags your wetness along his shaft. wet, slick noises erupting as you hollow your cheeks and cup his balls. a familiar spaciness fogs your head as you bob against his shallow thrusts. “right there-fuck, this throat so damn tight...”

he holds you against him, half of his dick disappearing as your muscles convulse around his girth. and you stay there for what feels like forever- a gagging fit forcing onyankopon to lazily pull you off. “ony…need you”, tone now softened by lust, you look up with big, shiny eyes. spit dribbles down your chin as you use a palm to massage the moisture into onyankopon‘s length. his own chest is rising and falling- animating your italicized name that resides over his heart.

beneath your breathless plea is the sight of your robe unraveling on its own. how could ony resist the way your cleavage spills out of the silk. the way your naked thighs stick together from your honey. with a curious grin, he dips down and latches his forearm around your midsection. gently your fiancé picks you up until your heels can wrap around his torso. his hold is strong and protective—bringing you a couple feet away to lay flat on the edge of the mattress.

now, the forgotten camera hones in on onyankopon’s perfect ass while he rids you of the sheer coverup. you’re helpless beneath him as he towers over you, knees to your chest. “nah, don’t do all that cryin’. act like you run shit for ya lil’ fans,” your soft groans earn you an eye roll, his darkened pupils now taking in every inch of glowy skin. all you can do is look up at the spinning ceiling, his tip taps against your fat folds.

“need to feel all of you, bae…please need my husband,” that little nickname of yours. husband—one that reminded the man of what was to come in a couple months. all the blood, sweat, teary nights and fucking money to make your big day special. countless of long meetings and bridal arrangements. cake tastings and floral pickings. all to officially marry the man of your fairytales. the very same one who swore he didn’t believe in marriages. he’d seen the concept as a scam up until he met you. now as whipped as can be; he strictly referred to you as his wife, his heart, his everything.

onyankopon‘s dick sinks into you like the final piece to a tedious puzzle. his head presses into your velvet walls as you mewl against your pursed lips. “like that? you feel that? feel what you do to me?,” one palm’s wingspan spreads behind your knees to keep them pinned. it gives him sight of the way your walls flutter around his thick dick. “jesus, ma. s’only half of it…need you to loosen up for me. i know she greedy as can be,” the stretch burns, your restrained legs weakly defend with a slight twitch. “fuc-k, ony you so deep can’t- can’t take anymo…,” both of your fists grip either sides of the sheet, head thudding back into a pile of freshly washed polos.

it’s like the masochist feeds off of your cries. onyankopon‘s other palm guides him through your wetness. a permanent furrow stays with him as he tries to make sense of the tightness. he’ll never get over how unforgiving your body is—like a wave of amnesia washes over the cunt he’s been buried in countless of times. “there you go, knew you could do it. take it, take it,” he repeats, a hand finding your waist now that your mound presses to his coarse pubes. onyankopon stills for all of several seconds. he snorts as your distorted expression tries to turn to the wrinkled duvet. the way the camera frames the sight of you coming undone off of stillness—silence, is amusing.

“what you pushing me away fo? we’re jus’ getting started, ma”, your nails shove beneath his navel, “we can always turn this shit into onlyfans whenever…,” that’s when it dawns upon you. you’re so fucked out that your fuzzy head shoots up and meets the tiny, red dot. onyankopon takes the epiphany as he’s not doing enough. he suddenly snaps his hips all the way back—leaving you with the trace of fullness. then, he thrusts back in with one, fluid motion. “mmh-ph!”, the wind is gutted from your deflated chest. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve came, but the puddle beneath your ass grows damper.

“shit…shit’s so…ugh,” the figure above you is soon reduced to incoherent whimpers. onyankopon lazily thumbs your second hole as he tries to keep up with his slowed pace. the way you clench and weep around him is going to be the death of him—he’s certain of it. when your eyes flutter open you’re met with his bobbing adam’s apple. his neck is blindly held back and his strokes are by the grace of God. “goddamn, ma. ‘m nutting, fuck i‘m nutting,” he huffs in twos, feet grounded into the tan rug beneath and knees locked. his base kisses your pussy one last time before you feel that dewy sensation. like a ragdoll your knees drop to the side. onyankopon gets ahold of your waist when he pulls out. a mixture of release seeps to your folds and down the side of the bed.

“hold up, peach. gonna get you cleaned so we can head out,” his raspy voice is drained and raw. for a moment you let him believe you two are stepping foot out of the house. he turns to head to the bathroom, but a grip around his wrist stops him. “again,” your canting blinks betray your eagerness, each one slower than the last. deep laughter erupts from onyankopon‘s inked sternum; only to resume his movement. his footsteps gyrate the entire, humid bedroom. instead of continuing to the bathroom, ony stops at the rolling device. with the click of a button the lens fades and retracts inwards. “i can’t give away all my best shots wit’ my woman”.

ꨄ

cut the cameras — coming soon . . . 5.28.25

ꨄ

{ Bentayga cloth blanket, take a nap on a jet

cash in my duffel, got a bad bitch possessed

spill, make a mess

have a threesome on ecstasy

bag talk, everything else irrelevant

show dedication, never show you desperate }

STICKY! STICKY! STICKY! FT. EREN YEAGER & SUGURU GETO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ paring: bfs!suguru and eren x black coded fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: reader is ovulating jus like me, eren gets left out for a little bit but they make it up to him <3, needy!reader, whiny!sugu, some fondling, unprotected sex, they get caught by eren :0, sleepy eren, eren fucks you while you jerk off sugu, eren and sugu share a kiss, three way kiss, creampie, sugu cums on your pussy, oral f!receiving, a wee bit of aftercare. wc: 2.6k (this is not proofread so sorry bout that) mdni boarder credit: @/cafekitsune

‘suguru….? wake up, please’ *hiccup*

suguru let out a low hum, his thick brows scrunching as he cracked one eye open. you were practically touching noses with him, your lips turned into a deep pout. the faint smell of your peach scented body wash wafted into his nose, stirring him awake even more.

“what’s wrong princess?” he grumbled, blindly reaching out for your soft body. you cuddle more into his side, your lips immediately attaching to his jaw to pepper it in kisses. suguru’s lashes fluttered, his eyes now open completely. “i need you sugu, m’hurting down there,” your voice was still raspy with sleep, a whimper bubbling in your throat.

suguru’s hips jumped forward when you pressed your bottom half into his thigh, the heat from your pussy had his dick stirring in his sweats. “mmph, can’t you wait till the morning when eren is awake? you know he doesn’t like to be left out,” suguru whispered into your neck, squeezing the plushness of your hips.

he had a point—eren did not like to be left out when it came to being intimate with one another. it’s not like he got angry—on the contrary he’d be very pouty about it.

“but i’m ovulatinggg, don’t you feel how wet i am sugu?” you ground you pussy into his thigh the tiniest bit, your slick seeping through your panties and onto his thigh. suguru sucked in a breath through his nose, his eyes flitting over to eren’s sleeping figure. he’ll be quick. he’ll make you cum on his fingers real fast and put you back to sleep. easy.

|| WHO..?; Eren Yeager

|| SYNOPSIS..?; Plug!Eren fucks his innocent girlfriend.

|| WARNINGS..?; 18+ MDNI. Smut.

EREN YEAGER was a well-known dealer in the area. a tall, mysterious, often hot-headed drug dealer — someone you definitely wouldn’t wanna mess with unless you planned on getting shot.

so, when you, a perfect little pink princess angel was seen with eren’s tattooed arm around your shoulders and your bag in his hand — everyone was shocked to say the least.

you were pretty, quiet, intelligent, came from a good family background, never missed a day of college or any homework, never smoked or did drugs, and the only alcohol you’d ever had was a sip of your mother’s gin & tonic and you hated it.

you were the complete opposite to eren.

you were innocent.

but somehow you were drawn to him.

you had met at a party your friend mikasa dragged you too — someone he’d known from childhood and you bonded over your mutual friend. eren knew he liked you from the moment he set eyes on your uncomfortable frame amongst your drunk and high friends at the party. you got on very well much to eren’s surprise and he vowed from that moment on to protect you no matter what.

so, you hung out more & more and you grew to love each other. eren asked you to be his girlfriend at a fancy dinner — a pretty bracelet in a velvet box being accompanied by the sweet words, bringing tears to your eyes as you couldn’t help but kiss his face as you cried against him, whispering ‘yes’ a thousand times as you covered him in your lipstick.

you cherished eren and treated him with the utmost kindness and respect a man deserved. you always put him first and devoted your life to making sure he was happy. and eren protected you with his life — literally. he would take a bullet to the brain for you, not caring that he’d never wake up again, if only you were happy and safe. you were the only woman he’d ever truly loved, and therefore he never wanted anything bad to ever happen to you. n he spoilt you like a princess, his drug money making sure your nails were never bare, as long as he could pick the design here and there, and your hair looked freshly done and perfect and any outfit or meal you wanted was paid for by him.

eren never pushed you into anything, he knew where you stood with his life and what he did, but he knew you’d never stop him from making his money the way he did. he knew you hated that he sold & did drugs but he reassured you with his life that he would never ever put you in danger or make you unhappy. he’d give it up if you were genuinely upset about it — but he knew you weren’t that petty to make him change his life that much just for you.

he also never pushed you to like his friends — who had the same values as him. so, when you met them all for the first time, you could tell you were definitely the elephant in the room, as a little princess like you stood out amongst all the drugs user thugs themselves.

“ guys, this my girl i’ve been tellin’ you ‘bout.” eren introduced, a sweet smirk on his face, as he smiled down at you, arm around your waist as you stood before a few of his friends.

smoke filled the air as they all smoked their individual joints, all in similar dress to eren and all tatted up — you, in a short, pretty pink dress, frilly socks and comfy trainers and your hair in a high ponytail held together by a pink scrunchie.

“ hi, nice to meet you.” you smiled sweetly, waving your manicured hand, eren smiling as he caught a glimpse of the initial ‘E’ on your ring finger.

one day he’d convince you to get it tatted — not yet though.

connie was the first to speak, standing up, brushing the ash off his jeans to force his hand into yours in a handshake, “nice to meet ya, pretty, ‘m connie. we’ve heard a lotta ‘bout you.”

“watch it” eren warned, shooting connie a glare at the compliment he weaved into his words.

connie only chuckled, retreating back to his seat as you giggled quietly at eren’s possessiveness.

next to greet you was a tall, mullet-headed man named jean who only offered a nod and a quiet hello — someone you knew eren had had issues with in the past and knew not to overstep the line when it came to his girl. after jean came reiner, a muscular blonde who was the sweetest of the bunch.

“nice to meet you — i hear you’re making our eren very happy.” he smiled, blowing smoke from between his pink lips.

“i hope so.” you mumbled nervously, “i love him a lot.”

eren could’ve fallen to his knees and cried at the way you looked up at him with such pure adoration and devotion in your eyes after saying the sweetest words any girl had ever said about him.

“y’know you do, baby.” eren spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“you’re not his usual type so i am surprised.”

“shut ya fucking mouth, kirstein.” you nearly flinched at the pure hatred in eren’s voice as his head snapped towards jean who only smirked evilly.

“what? a man’s not allowed to speak the truth anymore, or ‘sum?” jean laughed, “no offence, sweetheart, but yeager usually goes for more..experienced bitches, y’know?”

connie kissed his teeth loudly as reiner sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. a frown appeared on your face as jean’s words hit your ears, feeling suddenly uncomfortable at jean’s insinuation.

“so, just don’t get too comfortable, darlin’, cuz he’s likely to leave ya for some other bitch that actually knows how ta act her age.”

“i’d shut up, kirstein.” connie warned, a knowing smile on his face as if he was enjoying this.

you could feel eren was tense from how his hand gripped your waist and how you could hear him grinding his teeth together in anger.

you hated seeing eren like that. you just wanted him to be happy.

“well i’m sorry, jean, b-but eren loves me and me only just as i am and that’s not going to change so you’ll just h-have to get used to it.”

your heart hammered in your chest as adrenaline flowed through your veins — swallowing thickly as the words left your dry throat. your hand flew to eren’s against your waist as you gripped his fingers, reminding him that you were there with him.

jean’s face dropped as he expected eren to give him a piece of his mind — he wasn’t expecting your shaky voice to greet his ears.

eren, though, could’ve cum on the spot. you, defending him against horse-face…? jeeeesus that was fucking good to hear.

“daaaaaamn, kirstein, get told you asshole.” connie laughed, slapping his knee as reiner smiled against the joint between his lips.

jean kissed his teeth, “man fuck you.”

“nah fuck you, bro” connie fought back, “bein’ nasty to eren’s girl for no damn reason, fuckin’ cunt.”

“oh shut ya fuckin’ mouth, springer — “

“go wait in the car for me, sweetheart.” eren whispered down at you, his voice taking over your brain from the boys argument, his large hand cupping your cheek lovingly as he slid his car keys into your petite hand.

you nodded and did as he asked, blocking out the argument as you retreated out the room, offering reiner a polite, yet awkward smile. you knew trouble was underway as eren’s name being called in desperation muffled through the walls of connie’s apartment as you hurried down the stairs.

eren often got like that if you were disrespected by anyone. didn’t matter if he was in the room, if he knew them or not, if the person who said it was online or if they were 1000 miles away — eren had to fuck them up until they were on the brink of death for upsetting his perfect girl.

you had waited in his obnoxiously big mercedes for what felt like half an hour as you anxiously picked at your nails, your eyes glancing down at his initial — worry filling your tummy. but, alas, your boyfriend emerged from the apartment complex in a state you weren’t surprised at.

sweaty, flushed cheeks, strands of hair flying from his bun, bruised and bloody knuckles and chest heaving angrily.

“‘rennie.” you whispered as he flung himself into the car, slamming the door. your sweet, loving hands coming to touch his cheek.

if it were anyone else, eren would’ve flipped his lid at anyone touching him. but you? no. he craved your touch right now. more than anything. i mean he was practically melting at the touch of your small palm on his face.

he turned his head to press a long, loving kiss to the palm of your hand, eyes closed as if to savour the feeling of your skin on his lips.

“‘m sorry for keepin’ you, baby.” eren whispered, quickly turning on the ignition and pulling out of the parking space, “let’s go home, yeah?”

you merely nodded, offering him a reassuring smile as he drove away, slightly more erratic than normal due to his heightened mood — but he knew not to take it too far as you were in the car with him. as you know, he’d never ever put you in danger.

eren remained in a mood for the rest of the day. never showing it fully to you as to not upset you, but you could tell he was still bothered by what jean had said.

“eren?”

“wassup, beautiful” eren’s monotone voice filled your ears as you watched him from across the dinner table in his dining room. he even looked perfect eating the chinese takeout he’d bought you both.

“what happened earlier?”

eren tensed up again. the memories of the afternoon crept up his brain, “why, baby?”

“please, honey.” you pouted, instantly breaking down his guard at your perfect face, “i wanna know.”

eren sighed, reaching over to tug at your jutted out bottom lip, “can’t ever say no to you, mama, jesus.”

you smiled slightly against his finger, watching as he let his fork drop into the cardboard box full of noodles, running a hand through his hair.

“well i beat the shit outta him. broke his nose or ‘sum i think, i really don’t care.”

“eren!”

eren kissed his teeth, leaning back in his chair, “what? he fuckin’ deserved it.”

“eren yeager.” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, frowning, not knowing eren secretly enjoyed the way you got so protective of him.

“shiiit, full name n’ all, now ‘m in trouble, ma, huh?” he smirked, his golden grills flashing at you.

“yes, ‘ren, he’s your friend.” you whined, feeling to blame for your boyfriends antics.

“nah he’s not.” eren scowled, returning to his food nonchalantly despite the topic of conversation, “especially not if he talks ‘bout you like that.”

you sighed, pushing at your food with your fork, pouting slightly, still feeling guilty.

“baby, ‘m sorry i’m not like the other girls you’ve dated.”

uh oh! shouldn’t have said that!

eren threw his fork to the table, startling you slightly as he slid his chair quickly towards you — forcing you into a feverish kiss, taking you by surprise. eren’s large hands grasped desperately at your face, his lips moulding against yours as he kissed you with the most passion and love you’d ever experienced.

“—‘nngh’ — ‘rennie!—giggle—stop!—hah!” your words struggled to come out as eren kissed from your lips to your nose to your cheeks, eyes forehead and chin.

“don’t you ever say that again, ma, i mean it.” eren warned, suddenly serious as he finally pulled away looking you dead in the eyes, “you. are perfect. and nothin’ like those bitches thank fucking jesus lord. they ruined me, made me half the fuckin’ man i am. you changed me you fixed me you are the one for me because you are you, baby, y’get me?”

you couldn’t help but smile against his hands, your cheeks squishing slightly against him as you couldn’t contain your grin, “‘rennie, you mean that?”

“more than anything in th’fuckin’ world.”

and he sure as hell proved that!

“..nnngh—ugnnnh! fuuuck, ‘rennie!”

eren laughed loudly, pulling back from between your thighs at the sound of his name being called, slick covering his lips and chin, as you sat up on your elbows, arms shaking.

currently, he had you on your back on his bed, completely butt ass naked like the day you were born, and his tongue working wonders on your clit. you’d already cum twice and he was trying to force a third out of you.

“‘wassup, baby?”

“— ‘ren, hah — no-no more — nnhuuugh.” your whines of pleasure and fatigue only stirring him on as he jutted against the bed frame in his boxers, now feeling awfully tight against his throbbing cock.

“please, mama, one more for ‘rennie, please? y’were such a good girl for me today baby. standing up to that fuckin’ prick — makin’ ‘rennie s’proud of you. gotta reward m’ baby, yeah?”

you whined once more, his words hitting you straight in the core as you fell back onto your back, chest heaving.

eren took that as a yes — his tongue resuming its mission your aching clit, his ring clad hands gripping at your pudgy thighs as you cried out, your legs instinctively clamping around his head at the over stimulation.

eren flicked the tip of his tongue continuously over your clit, pleasuring the swollen nub, occasionally licking long strips or sucking on it, earning louder moans of intense pleasure from your plump lips. eren ate pussy good — that was one of the first things you learnt about him, feeling excited you had him all to yourself but secretly annoyed other girls got to enjoy this before you.

but he was yours now so it didn’t matter.

eren didn’t have to wait long until you were cumming again, legs nearly crushing his skull as you shook against him, tongue lapping at your clit at record speed as you whined his name loudly, bucking your hips up to reach your third orgasm.

“fuck fuck fuck, ‘rennie — cummin’, ‘m cummin’, baby, fuck!”

“yeah, that’s it, princess, give it to me. give it to ‘rennie, fuckin’ cum for me.” eren whispered, his fingers rubbing swift circles on your nub as your third orgasm ripped through you.

eren grew harder and harder in his uncomfortably tight boxers as you creamed all over his tongue, whining and panting as the overstimulation grew. as you came down from your high, you kicked eren away from your pulsating sex as he lapped up the cum that dribbled out of you, fatigue washing over you.

but eren wasn’t done with you just yet.

kneeling on the bed, eren slotted himself between your open legs as he pulled his achingly hard cock free from his briefs, both of you watching as it bobbed between your thighs lewdly. eren wasn’t small at all — a humble 8 inches and girth always made your ability to walk be ripped away from you.

“gonna fuck you so good, mama. ya such a good girl f’me, deserve to take this big dick, hm?”

you could only whine as words failed your sex-drunk mind, clit twitching as eren’s mushroom-shaped tip nudged the abused nub. he gathered your ever-increasing slick over his hot length, heart pounding as he pushed a leg further up to his shoulder.

“ya ready, sweetheart?”

this wasn’t a question, this was a warning. eren did this to make sure you knew his desperate monster of a cock was about to destroy your insides.

“mmm.” you nodded, biting your lip, anticipation eating you alive.

eren bit back a moan as he pushed the tip past your drooling lips into your tight gummy walls — a loud whine leaving your lips, only stirring eren on.

“jeeeesus, fuck, baby.” eren groaned, throwing his head back as he pushed further inside you, the sheer girth of his fat cock stretching you open more n more with each inch.

eren was only getting harder n harder as you panted and whined beneath him, your pretty chest clad in a white lacy bra rising and falling quickly as he filled you up.

eren loved lookin at you while he fucked you. sure he loved seeing your ass clap back onto his dick while he fucked you from behind — but watching your gorgeous face contort into expressions of pleasure while he fucked you dumb made him feral.

eren wasted no time — wanting nothing more than for you to feel good for your amazing act of service to him today. he dragged himself slowly from your wet cunt, hissing at the tightness that was your pussy that engulfed him, only leaving his throbbing tip inside.

“please ‘rennie.”

that was enough for eren. one hand gripped your hip and the other on your levitated thigh as he began an unholy pace. your back arched off the bed as eren’s cock slammed in and out of your sloppy pussy — the sound of your wetness filling the air like a dirty porn video, only stirring eren on as his mouth fell open at the feeling of your clenching hole squeezing him just the way he liked. your legs were tensed as your eyes squeezed shut; pleasure consuming your body as eren fucked you senseless, grunting to himself as he thoroughly enjoyed you.

“such a good girl f’me, aren’t ya, princess?” eren panted, turning to plant hot, open mouthed kisses against your ankle as he fucked you open — chest heaving in arousal as you cried out louder at his praise.

“e-eren!” you cried, eyes shooting open as his fingers landed on your overstimulated clit, rubbing circles on his twitching nub, coaxing another orgasm outta you, shooting up from the bed.

eren’s large hand landed from your waist to your neck — grasping your throat in a chokehold and shoving you back down onto the bed, knocking the wind out of your lungs, “don’t you fuckin’ dare try and stop me.” he warned “you’ve been such a good girl all day baby don’t ruin it now. let rennie make ya cum one more time yeah?”

“rennieeee, can’t. i can’t, b-baby, can’t cum anymore. ‘s-sensitive.” you whined, trying to ignore how good it felt as his cock bullied your g-spot and thumb rubbing dangerously slow circles on your clit.

eren laughed darkly, his pornographic pace never faltering as his blown out, fucked out eyes flicked from your bodies connecting to your lewd face, “you wanna cum with rennie though, right?”

you nodded quickly — loving nothing more than feeling him stuff you full of cum while you orgasmed around him.

“then shut ya bitch mouth n take it.”

with a squeak of agreement, eren’s hand slipped from your throat to your tits — pulling one out manhandling it, earning himself some pretty moans as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

“fuckin’ c’mere, mama.” eren spoke, tossing another leg over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he pushed you further onto the bed, now leaning over your fucked out body.

“aaaahnnng! fuck, fuck fuck! eren — eren, fuck, eren!”

your whines only granted eren all the confirmation he needed that he was doin you good as he pushed his cock further into you — his tip kissing your cervix.

“jeeeeesus,” eren panted, throwing his head back at the new angle, “fuckin’ takin this dick so good, mama”

“yeah, yeah, yeahhnhhggh!” you were practically brainless by the time eren had even started his new pace, his cock bullying its way into you as your eyes practiced hardcore R.E.M as they rolled back and all over the place.

eren’s hips snapped back and forth against the plush of your ass and gripped your waist — forcing you down onto his cock harder as he fucked you. his bun was falling loose as strands stuck to the sweat on his forehead, bottom lip between his teeth flashin his grills as his eyebrows twitched.

eren pushed his cock deeper as you whined with every thrust, blabbering his name as tears slipped from your eyes at the pure pleasure your eren was bringing you — big bad eren making you feel so good behind closed doors!

eren’s hand resumed its tortuous work against your clit as he grunted against you, flicking your nub back forth.

“doin’ so good, babygirl, fuckin’ can’t wait to nut in this good girl pussy.”

“oouuuugh ‘rennieeeeuuugg!”

“yeah, tell me ‘bout it mama, feels good, yea?” eren teased, slamming his now twitching cock into your slobbering pussy — his dick throbbing in arousal at the way you’d clench around him and then a milky white ring of your cream would form around the base of his cock, “ya like it when rennie talks you through it, hm? dirty girl.”

“yes, ‘rennie! yes, ‘rennie! yes, ‘rennie!”

eren laughed darkly as he watched your eyes nearly turn towards each other as you blabbered loudly, drool now falling from your lips — he just loves fuckin’ you dumb!

“fuck, baby, gunna cum,” eren mumbled, hips twitching slightly as he neared his finish, “where y’want me, sweetheart?”

“inside!”

“oh, fuck.”

eren didn’t need much more to be said before his hips stilled as he spilled his load inside you. the feeling of eren fucking his cum back inside you as his hips twitched forwards as he came, sent you the edge as well, manicured toes curling and a loud cry of pleasure being released as you came around him. eren’s head fell forward against your chest as you clamped down on his sensitive cock — forcing another spurt of cum to shoot inside you along with his fat load.

you both laid in silence for a few more seconds before eren slowly sat up, letting his softening cock slip out of your warm heaven — smirking proudly as a dollop of his cum dripped from your pussy which clenched around nothing.

“did so good f’me, beautiful.” eren whispered, reaching down to rub gentle, apologetic circles to your bruised hips and a sweet, loving kiss to your temple, his heart hammering in his chest from your adorably tired face.

“i love you, ‘rennie.” you mumbled, curling up in his sweaty sheets — which you knew he’d be changing for you in a few minutes as he retreated towards the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you with.

“i love you more, princess.”

hey sorry i’m back babies !

i had awful writers block but i think ive found my style now YAY

mean!rafe x reader

warnings: 18+, degradation, rough oral (m receiving), facefucking, possessiveness, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, oral fixation kink, brat!reader, spit, drool, tears, gagging, light choking, hair pulling, dumbification, objectification, pet names (e.g. toy, brat, parasite), subspace-ish behavior, power dynamics, size kink,slight dacryphilia

rafe’s mean. always has been.

he talks shit like it’s his first language, throws punches when he’s bored, and looks at people like they’re beneath him—because most of them are.

but you? you’re something else.