i’m left heartbroken and disgusted by the events that take place in this world. it leaves me questioning the existence of beings. what hurts me more is seeing how quiet this community is on the issue. you have platforms with a 1,000+ followers and willingly choose to stay silent.
please educate yourselves and take a look at what’s happening in palestine. i have friends with families who are fighting for their lives right now. these people have been fighting oppression for decades. use your privilege for something. use your platform for something. please i’m begging you. just because it isn’t directly effecting you doesn’t give you the excuse of staying silent.
a reminder that if you choose to stay silent in the face of oppression, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.
here are some resources:
educate yourself
petition to help palestine
another petition
educate yourself some more
watch this video to donate to palestine (3hrs)
another video to watch to donate (1hr)
(don’t skip ads + u can just leave these playing in the bg!!)
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you think that you're so alone in the world then you read literature from hundreds of years ago and you realize that other people have always felt this way
Reducing the calories does not inherently increase the healthiness of your food.
Reducing the fat content does not inherently increase the healthiness of your food.
Reducing the sugars does not inherently increase the healthiness of your food.
The only way to increase the healthiness of your food is by adding additional nutrients to it.
I saw a video of someone complaining that fucking chicken tikka masala "wasn't healthy" so they made a "healthier version" that was, in fact, LESS HEALTHY. Because they made it with only fat free dairy products, rendering many of the vitamins they would have otherwise gotten from that meal utterly useless, because the body needs fats in order to absorb them properly.
Two tbsp of brown sugar does not render a meal "unhealthy." Full fat dairy products do not render a meal "unhealthy." Calorically dense foods do not render a meal "unhealthy."
If you're really concerned about your health, add more nutrients. Eat extra veggies or extra protein. But you're not actually worried about your health. You're worried about your weight.
You're worried that in the process of eating a homemade meal with lean protein and veggies and a rich, delicious sauce you will consume more energy than you can use today.
You're worried that energy might be stored so that your body can use it when it needs to later.
You're worried that your relationship with gravity might change. You've been taught to worry about that. You've been taught to misconstrue manufacturered body issues as being "health conscious." But you're not doing things to promote health. You're just trying to reduce your energy consumption no matter what.
And I am begging you to consider, that this is not actually a "health conscious" mindset at all.
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you’re just trying to mind your business. on vacation, sun on your skin, looking at souvenirs like a normal person. is that a crime? you’re browsing bracelets and beaded tops, being cute and peaceful. but your fiancé? no, because your fiancé is staring at you like he’s two seconds from dragging you behind the damn stand and having his way with you.
you pick up a little crop top from the rack and hold it up with a smile.
“this cute?” you ask sweetly.
eren doesn’t answer right away—his eyes scan the shirt, then drop to your waist, your hips, your thighs. back to your face. he licks his lips.
“yeah,” he says low. “you like it? i’ll get it for you.”
like okay. why does he have to look at you like that.
you nod and try to focus on the jewelry spread in front of you, but the second you do, you feel his hands slide around your waist. his chest brushes your back, lips right against your ear as he murmurs,
“let’s get matching ones.”
you shiver. this man wants to turn you into a problem.
and it’s not even noon yet.
you close your eyes and sigh. you love your man. but—why is he trying to have you creaming in your panties this early in the day? can you live? can you shop in peace? can you not be ogled like a dessert tray?
because eren be looking at you like you’re the last fucking meal on earth. and the worst part? you like it.
you both keep walking, arms linked, buying little trinkets and snacks and whatever else catches your eye. cute, wholesome, soft. but the beach? yeah, deciding to head to the beach might’ve been your worst decision yet.
why? because your man is a menace.
and right now, he looks like he’s two seconds from fucking you in the sand.
you’re trying to relax. trying to bask in the morning sun, sip your juice, and mind your peaceful-ass business. but eren? eren has his own agenda. he’s behind you on the towel, kissing your neck, his hands everywhere—gripping your thighs, smoothing over your waist, palming your ass.
“eren,” you giggle, breathless, “relax… we’re outside.”
he kisses right below your ear. “so?”
then bites your sweet spot. slow. deliberate.
your breath hitches. your eyes almost roll back.
god. you swear he wants you ruined.
maybe sex on the beach wouldn’t be that bad.
would you get arrested? maybe.
but damn—he’s making it so hard to behave.
you shake your head. girl, calm down. you’re in public. he’s trying to slide into your bikini bottoms like you’re in a damn hotel suite, not in front of people and the entire shoreline.
you try to focus. but your body is betraying you.
you’re probably soaked through these bikini bottoms already.
maybe—maybe if you go into the water, it’ll hide the fact that your man got you this damn horny at 10:43 a.m.
you wade into the water, hoping the ocean will cool you down. not just from the heat, but from the throbbing mess between your legs that your fiancé caused.
maybe if you swim far enough, you’ll get lucky and a little current will drag you away from the problem.
the problem? eren.
your fine, menacing, can’t-keep-his-hands-off-you fiancé.
but when you glance over your shoulder… oh god.
he’s coming toward you.
water glistening on his chest. jaw clenched. lip between his teeth.
why is he looking at you like that?
like he’s starving. like you’re the meal.
“hey,” you say, voice going a little high. nervous.
“hey,” he murmurs back, eyes dropping to your boobs in that bikini.
he bites his lip again.
you nearly moan.
no. nope. stay strong. stay focused. you’re in public.
but then he gets to you. grabs your waist underwater.
pulls you in slow, smooth, like he’s done it a hundred times.
and he kisses you.
not just a kiss. one of those kisses. the ones that make your knees weak.
and then his mouth is on your neck.
why is he kissing your neck?! he knows that’s your weakness.
“eren,” you breathe, pulling back, desperate. “oh, look! fish.”
your finger shoots out, pointing to absolutely nothing.
girl… not you lying. not you trying to escape your man like he’s not about to be your husband.
you can’t let him fold you in the damn ocean!
“what fish, baby?” he says, playing along, but his voice is low and teasing.
he leans into your neck again. his breath sends goosebumps across your skin.
his hand squeezes your ass underwater like it belongs to him (because it does).
you bite your lip. your heart’s racing. your thighs clench.
“you’re doing too much,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes.
he smirks, tilts your chin up. “i’m not even doing enough.”
oh.
oh, you’re done for.
you want to fold so bad. give in. let him have his way.
but you’re still looking around, scanning the beach like the lifeguard’s gonna catch you getting publicly seduced.
this man really got you shy. flustered. wet in every way possible.
“you’re doing too much,” you mumble again, pulling away as eren’s mouth brushes behind your ear, whispering something nasty about what he’s gonna do to you tonight.
you pretend you didn’t hear it. your thighs, however? heard every syllable.
“let’s go get food,” you say quickly, trying to shake the heat off you like a wet dog.
he grins. “you tryna run from me?”
“no, i’m tryna not get fucked on the beach.”
he lets you go—for now.
you make it to the beachside restaurant. cute setup, ocean view, cold drinks. there’s music playing. you should be relaxed.
but you’re not, because this man across the table from you won’t stop looking at you.
“is your food good?” you ask, stabbing your fork into your food even though you can feel your appetite slowly crumbling under the weight of his fuck-me eyes.
“yeah.”
he doesn’t look at his plate.
he’s looking at you.
your voice is shaky. “you enjoying yourself?”
he chews, shrugs. “mm-hmm. but you look better than anything on this menu.”
you glare at him. “eren.”
he raises an eyebrow. doesn’t say anything. just stares.
his thumb slowly rubs along his glass like he’s imagining doing the same thing to you.
you’re spiraling. looking at the sea like please, god, if you love me, let a mermaid rise up and kidnap me.
is this how it’s gonna be when we get married? is this your forever fate—being devoured by your husband with his eyes at every damn meal?
after lunch, you spot a little stand selling popsicles and point to it like it’s salvation.
“i need something cold,” you say.
he smirks. “you sure do.”
you ignore him.
you both get popsicles yours is strawberry, his is mango.
you’re focused on yours, finally thinking, okay, peace at last.
but then you look up.
and he’s watching you.
not even doing anything extra—just licking slowly, biting into the top of his popsicle, watching your mouth wrap around yours.
and the eye contact? criminal.
you pull it away from your mouth, eyes wide.
“…is yours not nice?” you ask, confused.
he shrugs. “mine’s fine.”
but he’s looking at you like he’s about to drop to his knees in public.
and the way you have to suck on it just to keep it from dripping??
you do it once, absently, and his eyes darken. he shifts his hips like he’s adjusting himself.
you blink. “eren.”
he licks his popsicle, slow as hell. “what, baby?”
“can you not?”
“not what?”
“not look at me like that.”
he grins like the menace he is.
“sorry. can’t help it. you look too good with something in your mouth.”
your soul LEAVES your body.
you stare at him in betrayal. “i came here to relax.”
“i came here to ruin your life.”
so right now you’re taking your sweet ass time walking back to the hotel room. why, you may ask? because you know your fate. you’re about to get fucked out of your fucking mind and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. you might not have a spine after this. so you’re stalling. pointing at random ass shit like, “look… a crab.” and he’s just staring at you like. be serious.
“you better get to that room,” he mutters.
girl he don’t care about that crab. you’re literally pointing at a shell and calling it a rare sea creature. you’re walking slow like the hotel is a haunted house and he’s just walking next to you, hands in his pockets, unbothered. not speaking. he knows what’s about to happen. he’s waiting on it. you’re delaying the inevitable.
you finally get to the room and he’s unlocking the door, but now you wanna stop outside and look at the view. “i just wanna take it in for a second,” you lie. girl. be real.
“okay,” he says, dry. he’s so patient it’s scary.
“okay… i’m coming in now.”
you walk in like nothing’s gonna happen. like he hasn’t been eye-fucking you all day. he hasn’t touched you once and you’re starting to think maybe he forgot? maybe you’re safe? like wow. maybe he just loves you and you were projecting. you sit down like normal. take off your shoes. start making yourself comfortable again like he isn’t standing behind you like a fucking NPC waiting to trigger the next level.
you turn your head. he’s just standing there.
“…hello?” you ask, weak.
he doesn’t blink. “hi.”
“you good?” you smile nervously.
“i’m good.”
“…why are you staring at me like that?”
he shrugs. “you know why.”
you don’t even respond. you just stare, cheeks warm, because yeah. you do. and when he kisses you—oh. it’s over. you feel it in your toes. the way his mouth is on yours like he’s been starving all day and this is what he’s been craving.
your brain is short circuiting. like wait. it’s actually happening. you start panicking and getting excited at the same time like girl he’s not even fucking you yet and you’re already so wet. like it might go through the bed. you haven’t even touched the sheets. you’re just standing there. heart racing. pussy throbbing. like oh wow. you’re in danger.
you don’t even get a warning.
he’s pulling your bikini bottoms down like he’s been waiting his whole life to get them off you. no patience. no teasing. just hunger. like, damn—okay. they’re tossed to the side without care, and you slip your top off too, trying to match the mood, but he’s already laying back, licking his lips like you’re a fucking treat.
“sit on my face.”
you blink. “huh?”
he grabs your thigh, his eyes heavy, dark. “i said sit. on my face.”
and it’s the way he says it—slow, deep, like a promise—that makes your body move before your brain catches up. you straddle his chest, easing up closer, still hovering a little because you’re shy and cute and trying to keep your dignity—please. he pulls you down like he paid for it.
and then… he starts.
no easing into it. just full-on, filthy head. tongue all up in it, lips wrapped tight around your clit like it’s his. and it is. the first suck alone knocks the breath out of you. he moans into it, like he missed this. like he’s been starving and you’re the only thing on the menu. it’s wet, it’s messy, it’s obscene.
he’s slurping.
loud. sloppy. disrespectful. your thighs are already trembling and it’s been, what—two minutes? you try to lift off a little, overwhelmed, and he grips your ass to pull you right back down. like no, we’re not done here.
you’re holding onto the headboard, the sheets, nothing. your moans are borderline cries at this point. every flick of his tongue, every suck of that sensitive spot—your body jerks like electricity’s running through it. he’s locked in. like he wants you to suffocate him.
and he’s not just eating it. he’s feasting.
his face is coated. your thighs are soaked. and every time you grind, his tongue meets you halfway like it’s tryna follow you inside your own damn body. and the way he keeps going, like he enjoys watching you fall apart like this, it’s almost too much. almost.
“fuck—baby—why are you eating her like that…” you whimper.
he spanks your ass, firm and fast. “shut up.”
your whole spine shivers.
you can’t even hold it in anymore—you’re creaming all over his face, moaning like it’s the only language you know. your hips start moving on their own. and he loves that. groaning into your pussy, eating you through every twitch and gasp like it’s his life’s purpose. he licks up the middle one more time and sucks that clit like it’s something sweet, and baby—you break.
your head falls back, body jerking, voice high and shaking. he holds you there. lets you ride it out. doesn’t stop until your body gives up and your legs collapse over his shoulders. and even then, he kisses it soft like a thank-you.
and when you look down at him—glossy, breathless, soaked from the nose down?
he smiles.
and you know he’s not even close to done.
you don’t even know how you ended up on all fours. one second you were laying pretty, catching your breath, and now? you’re ass-up, face-down, pillow gripped.
and he’s behind you—calm, slow, smug. rubbing his tip right between your folds like he’s got all the time in the world. not putting it in. just there. tracing the same path over and over, watching you twitch, watching you wait.
“please…” you whisper.
he leans down and licks up your spine. slow. nasty. from your lower back to your shoulder. his voice is low, right in your ear. “what was that?”
you bury your face in the sheets. “put it in.”
he drags it along your slit one more time—just to be a menace.
“say it properly.”
your whole body’s burning. you can feel him, hard and ready and right there, but he won’t move until you say it. and you do. because you’re desperate now. “please fuck me.”
and that’s all it takes.
he grips your hips. spits on it once. then pushes in with one deep, slow stroke—so deep your mouth falls open. you don’t even moan at first. just air. heat. stretch. full.
then the moan comes.
and once he bottoms out? it’s over.
the pace starts slow—teasing, smooth, a little too gentle for the way you’re clenching. but that doesn’t last. he grabs your hips tighter, adjusts his stance, and starts fucking you.
loud. deep. steady. clap. clap. clap.
you’re losing it. you’re moaning, whining, trying to move your hips faster but he’s controlling the rhythm. one strong hand on your waist, the other smacking your ass with no warning. your eyes roll back, your toes curl, and you swear you almost come just from the sound of it.
your body starts pushing back, chasing the feeling. you arch more, throw it harder—but he grabs your arm and twists it behind your back like nah, baby. i’m driving.
“stay still,” he pants. “take this dick.”
you whimper into the sheets. “i’m trying…”
he laughs, low and breathless. “you’re not. but you will.”
and he goes deeper.
hips snapping, abs flexed, dragging that dick all the way out and then slamming it back in, so hard it knocks the breath out of you. your whole body jolts with every thrust. he’s got your arm pinned behind you, your back arched, your ass bouncing against his thighs, and all you can do is take it.
your moans are high now. desperate. fucked-out. that pressure’s building fast, and he knows it.
“don’t run,” he grits. “stay right here.”
you’re not even running—you’re breaking.
your legs shake, your pussy clenches, and then you’re cumming, loud and messy, gasping like the air got stolen from your lungs. your whole body spasms, walls gripping him tight, and he groans loud behind you.
“fuck—just like that…”
and then he’s cumming too. deep inside. hips pressed against you. spilling all that heat while he stays buried in it. he pants against your back, still holding your arm behind you.
and when he finally pulls out?
you collapse. absolutely ruined.
he smacks your ass one more time, proud. “good girl.”
he gets up like nothing just happened. like he didn’t just fold you like a damn beach chair.
he goes to the bathroom, turns on the light, and comes back with your shower cap. your shower cap. and he puts it on your head so gently you almost cry, even though you’re still literally twitching on the bed like your soul hasn’t fully returned yet.
“come on, baby,” he murmurs, checking the water with his hand. “it’s warm.”
sir. YOU did this. why are you acting like a caregiver now.
when the temperature’s right, he picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you into the shower. you cling to him because your legs? absolutely not functioning.
you both shower together, steam everywhere, and he’s washing you so soft, following your routine perfectly like he’s rehearsed it. your favorite body wash—he knows the order by heart.
meanwhile your mind is just screaming:
he fucked me.
he actually folded me.
is this how he’s gonna be when we’re married??
you’re excited but also lowkey terrified. like are you gonna survive matrimony or nah.
he turns you around, washing the front of your body now, slow and careful, before he wraps his hand around your neck and pulls you in for a kiss.
you giggle into his mouth because why is he being sweet NOW. five minutes ago he was trying to put you through the mattress.
he keeps washing you, taking his time, and when you try to help wash him he literally smacks your hand away.
“i got it,” he says, like he didn’t just assault you with affection AND destruction.
rude.
eventually you’re both done. you dry off, lotion up, get dressed—while he sits there watching you the entire time like you’re a movie he paid premium to see. the man does not blink.
when you’re finished, you both go outside to the hammock overlooking the beach. the sky’s all soft and golden, waves quiet, breeze perfect. finally peaceful.
eren grabs your hand, running his thumb over your ring before kissing it.
“can’t wait to marry you,” he says, voice low.
your heart does a stupid flip. “me too.”
he smirks. you already know something insane is about to leave his mouth.
“you ready to have your back blown every day?”
“EREN.” you whip your head toward him like he’s lost his damn mind.
“what?” he shrugs. “i’m not lying.”
you glare at him but your face is hot.
then he looks at you softer, thumb brushing your knuckles.
“i love you,” he says.
you melt instantly. “i love you.”
he leans in, gives you a tiny kiss, then pulls you into his chest. the two of you sway gently in the hammock, warm, calm, just breathing together while the ocean hums in the background.
Stepping into Eren’s room always felt like a sensory overload: Metallica, KISS and whatever other posters of bands on his walls, some mixtape of his playing loud as hell and the smell of Marlboro smoke hanging thick in the dark room.
“Ugh–open the fucking window or something” you dramatically coughed, swatting the air with your hand and praying the smoke wouldn’t stick to your new pink jaded London set.
Eren yanked out his earphones and set his drum sticks aside, a devilish grin spreading across his face, his lip ring glinted when he smirked, the one on his eyebrow twitching just slightly.“Msorry pretty princess, didn’t know you were coming” he reached forward and grabbed your thighs, pulling you in closer.
You scuffed “Didn’t see you in class today…”
“Aww, missed me, pretty girl?” His eyes practically sparkled as he tugged at your thighs, forcing you to straddle him.
“Shut up, loser” you face palmed him, falling backward onto the bed. Eren ended up on his back, sprawled across the mattress, and you landed chest to chest on top of him. He grinned up at you, clearly enjoying the closeness, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles against your thighs like he wasn’t in any rush to move.
This was only the third time you and Eren had been alone together. You never even acknowledged him in public hell, you’d laughed about him with your friends before, in his face. The tattoos, the chipped black nail polish, the eyeliner, the rings, the spiked pants, he was everything you swore you’d never touch.
But he liked that. Liked how you pretended you didn’t see him in the halls, then ended up here, melting against him like this. Because when it was just you and him, all that “too good for him” attitude didn’t mean much.
“You so pretty, baby” Eren smiled, wrapping his cybersigil-style tattooed arms around you, thrusting his hips forward “fuck, just looking at you got me hard” he grinned, watching you hold back your whimpers. Eren gently wrapped his hands around your neck, pulling you down to kiss you. You moaned as his tongue slipped past your lips, twirling with yours as his hips kept thrusting upwards, his clothed hard on rubbing up against your clit.
“Mmfuck…” you couldn’t help but audibly moan when he started going faster, grabbing your ass, cold silver rings sending shivers up your spine “Haaa-Ren!” You cried out, rocking your hips back and forth.
“Feels good, baby?” He chuckles, watching the girl who used to make fun of him with her girlfriends aka his crush since forever , griding her pussy on his cock trying to reach her high “Hm, pretty girl gon get her new cute clothes dirty” the boy teased, a breathy moan escaping when you purposely rocked your hips harder
“Ughh–I told you to keep quiet” you covered his mouth with your freshly manicured hands. You could feel that annoying smirk agains the palm of your hand. You stared down at the boy as you rode him, moving your hips faster and faster, enjoying the needy look in Eren’s eyes as he tried to desperately slow you down but it was too late. You watched his eyes roll back, feeling the growing wet spot of his cum agains your clit “Ew..so embarrassing” you got off him and grabbed your little vintage Dior bag.
Eren sat up, still a little dazed, his grin lazy and crooked “Gonna see you at my concert tonight?” he asked, tilting his head, lip ring catching the light.
You paused at the door, adjusting your bag without looking at him.“Maybe,” you said, voice flat but eyes giving you away for half a second.
He watched you walk out, still smiling to himself, the room smelling like smoke and your perfume long after you were gone. Fuck, he was absolutely and ridiculously obsessed with you.
In which, despite how hard you try to resist, you still end up back in his garage ;)
Neighbour!Choso who you’ve been avoiding since he made you cum with his speakers out of embarrassment and a desperate need to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. And who has been doing the opposite.
Neighbour!Choso who leans against his garage door, a cig between his fingers and a pierced brow rising, as he waves at a passing you. You’re walking with a friend — a friend who insisted they pass the house of your hot, grungy neighbour and his garage band. When you don’t wave back, he shouts out, “Sit on my face next time and you won’t be able to pretend nothing happened.”
You have to make up a lie to your snickering friend: your neighbour has early onset dementia or something of the sort. She doesn’t believe you.
Neighbour!Choso who tears down his curtains and ensures you can always see his washboard abs, slutty waist, and pierced nipples every time he gets changed. Consequently, your curtains are always drawn. But there might be times you sneak a peek through the crack.
Neighbour!Choso who blasts music all day and night, some sickeningly heartbreaking and others downright obscene. You cover your ears with a pillow, gritting your teeth, and wholly intent on pretending you can’t hear him. That is, until you realise he’s playing the very song he used to have you creaming your panties as you rode his vibrating speakers.
Neighbour!Choso who smiles ear to ear when you come stomping into his garage as he tunes his bass for the next song. You slap him. It was light, not at all very hurtful, and yet his eyes roll back and he absentmindedly moans, “More. Harder.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He nods, pigtails bouncing. “Ah, just the tip of the iceberg, to be honest.”
Aghast and bewildered, you stammer out, “J-just leave me alone, alright? I don’t want anything to do with this, with you.”
Neighbour!Choso steps closer, smile creeping into a grin. He backs you up onto the garage door you hadn’t noticed closed. His nose skims your hairline, inhaling and groaning. Finally, he whispers a plain old, “Nah,” and kisses you. Hard.
The kiss isn’t soft and sweet nor slow; it’s messy, mean, and maddening. All tongue and teeth — nipping your bottom lip, tangling with your tongue, slurping on your drool, and accompanied by wandering hands. In fact, it’s such a good fucking kiss, you don’t notice his hand going where it shouldn’t until it’s too late, until it’s rubbing your slit through your pyjama bottoms.
Neighbour!Choso doesn’t slide his hand inside, doesn’t touch you directly — whether you want him to or not is neither here nor there. He’s simply rubbing and pressing up, almost like you’re a stress toy, like he doesn’t realise what he’s doing. He’s not trying to make you cum. But that’s exactly what’s happening; the friction is magnificent.
You shudder against his body.
Neighbour!Choso who pecks your lips one last time, brings his hand to his nose, and inhales deeply again. He grabs his dick through his jeans and rubs it like he was rubbing your cunt. Meanwhile, you’re panting and trying to orient yourself. “You can stay and watch me cum, if you’d like,” he rasps. “Actually, I’d really -hah- like that, but I know you’ll run off again.”
And, like a well-oiled machine, you do just that. Running flustered all the way back home before you can see him lick his fingers.
There’s another message on his window later in the night, like you knew there would be. It reads: Ur smell’s gone. Cum by tomorrow & refresh it? pls :)
Had this in my drafts. Decided not to delete it nor edit it. Neighbour!Choso must be witnessed as he is.
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Trying to turn down a man by giving ridiculously high standards but the bastard keeps exceeding your expectations and you're finding it harder and harder to reject him
It starts simply enough. You tell him that you expect a money allowance just for being with him, because your time is valuable and you don't want to waste it. It's a ridiculous demand and men usually turn away after that.
"Alright. How much would you like?"
You up the stakes. You tell him that you expect your partner to lift you without difficulty, without straining, without complaint.
"I can bench four hundred pounds in my sleep."
You're getting tired of this, frustrated. You tell him you expect your boyfriend to be at least eight inches and to prioritize your pleasure in bed. That will get him to back off.
You sat in your dorm room, scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you hadn't seen your boyfriend in days. His engineering major was demanding, and you understood that, but it didn't make the loneliness any easier. You sighed, glancing at the time. It was almost 8 PM and there’s was still no sign of him even though he promised to come by tonight.
Just as you were about to give up hope, there was a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. You rushed to open it, and there he was, Armin, with his blond hair slightly tousled and a tired but relieved smile on his face.
"Hey, Y/N" he said, his voice soft but filled with warmth.
"Armin! You made it!" You couldn't hide your excitement as you pulled him into a tight hug. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, enjoying the sweet smell of coconut oil in your hair and the smoothness of your skin under his touch.
"I finished my exam today," he said, pulling back slightly to look at you "I'm pretty sure I aced it", he grinned, you liked how he always tries to act humble while subtly bragging.
“‘Course you did baby" you replied, beaming at him "Come in, tell me all about it"you added, dragging him inside your apartment by his arm.
You both settled on your bed, sitting very close. Armin started talking about the exam, his eyes lighting up as he described the questions and how he tackled them. You listened intently, happy to see him so passionate. Well, his voice quickly became white noise as you stared at him blankly, a soft smile on your face, your mind running wild with the sight of his pink lips moving mesmerizing you. You couldn’t take it anymore, he looked too fucking fine, plus, this was the first time you had him all to yourself in almost a week.
“Min..” you cut him off mid rent, his hands in the air as he explained something else with a bit too much passion but was quick to give you his full attention “I really missed you, you know” you reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck, acrylics gently scratching as his nape and playing with his blond locks.
“I know, baby, missed you too” he smiled, cheeks growing red with how close your mouth was to his, finally resting his hands on your waist after not knowing what to do with them for a minute.
“then show it” you whispered. You always tried to tame yourself around Armin because of how shy he could get and your relationship was still new so you didn’t want to rush him but he was just too tempting with his big ocean blue eyes and his constantly messy hair, you just wanted to eat him up (something all of his friends predicted would happen).
“M’sorry..” Armin sighed, firmly grabbing your hips before pushing you back onto the bed “if I don’t show you properly..” he leaned down, forcing your mouth open by getting ahold of your chin and parting his lips to let his tongue slide into your mouth. You moaned into your boyfriend’s mouth as you indulged in the loud and sloppy kiss, tongues swirling around and lips smacking “how much you’re on my mind, y/n” he pulled back, enjoying the surprised and flustered look on your face.
You never expected him to take the lead like this, spreading your legs as he squeezed the fat of your thighs, leaning down, kissing at your chest and stomach until he reached your dripping pussy “just from the kiss..wow” you weren’t sure what was worse, the comment itself or the actual fascination in his voice, either way, you were heavily embarrassed. But, all of that was old news when you felt his wet tongue press up against your clit, giving a few long licks before wrapping his mouth around it and sucking on it slowly.
“A-armin..” you moaned, gripping onto the sheets to not pull on the poor boy’s hair from the delicious feeling of him teasing your clit with his surprisingly skilled tongue. The nasty sound of him slurping up your juices, eyes locked onto your fucked out face, tears building up from the intense sensation of him eating you out so good “m’gon-Min!” you whimpered, walls clenching up, feeling yourself climax all in his tongue, juices dripping down the side of his mouth.
“oh..sweetie” Armin smiled, pulling himself out of your plush thighs “you’ve been holding it in for so long” his voice was gentle, staring down at you who was still trying to catch your breath, wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks “want me to make it up to you, pretty ?” he leaned in, cupping your face so gently, batting his beautiful long lashes as he stared into your eyes.
“you better” you sighed, pussy still throbbing from the orgasm.
“anything for you” he licked his lips, sitting up to swiftly remove his shirt, exposing his pale skin you couldn’t wait to mark with bites and hickeys.
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Bakugou who aggressively flirts with the black interviewer throughout the entire ordeal and doesn’t let up on her because he likes seeing her stutter and get all flustered. You’re trying to ask him about his hero stats, but all he can do is counteract the questions with shit directed toward you instead.
“Dynamight, I’m here to ask and learn more about you! This isn’t about me! Nobody wants to know anything about me.” You say through a laugh, but Bakugou frowns at the words before he leans forward with a grin.
“Fuck everybody else. I wanna know everything about you, sweetheart.” The words fluster you to your core. Every question is shaky after that, your hands fumbling and sweaty from how he’s been eyeing you, biting his lip whenever you roll your eyes at another one of his attempts to flirt.
His PR manager keeps pausing the interview to get him back on track, but he’s trying to get on your track instead. After more hounding, he starts answering the questions instead of blatantly flirting, but he’s eye fucking the hell out of you. The black boots that come up to your knee, the skirt and fishnets that frame your thighs and hips, the view of your exposed cleavage, even your pretty ass face and soft looking lips.
He wants to both kiss them and stick his dick in between them.
“‘Like your boots.” He blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. You stammer for a second, tripping over your words as you try not to combust in your seat.
“Your fishnets, too.” This time it’s said with a lecherous grin as he leans back in his chair and spreads his legs. The cameraman quickly panels to your face, mainly to avoid the obvious bulge that’s now swelling in Bakugou’s ripped black jeans.
Your mouth is gaping open, in shock that this fucker was so damn bold and had absolutely no shame! Bakugou just imagined you getting his pubes sticky from that soft clear lipgloss and brown lipliner on your lips.
“Behave.” You say through a smile, eyes cast low as you try your best to school your expression. You can’t afford to get fired for flirting on the job, but he’s making it so goddamn hard. Bakugou likes the way you try to calm yourself, how chills slither up your exposed chest and arms from being so damn flustered by him. He can’t help himself.
When the interview is over, he’s looking at you to give his thanks and goodbyes instead of the camera, even shooting you a wink that the camera catches. He doesn’t let you get far when it’s finished though, ignoring the people telling him it’s time for another interview at another station, instead opting to convince you into letting him inside of your own dressing room.
He hikes your skirt up in no time, bending you over the vanity, leaves on the heels he wants you to step on him with, rips a hole in your fishnets and pushes your panties to the side. He wastes no time in shoving his face into your cunt, huffing against the pretty brown lips that are already wet with your slick. He licks you clean in seconds, sloppily opens you up with two fingers, before he’s pushing himself inside of you. He doesn’t care about the rattling noises from the falling makeup and jewelry, just pounds into you harder, glances from where your skin contrasts with his own, up to your panting face in the mirror.
It’s a sight he’ll never forget. Especially not the face you make when you cum all over his cock and squeakily ask him to fill you up so you can still feel his cum dribbling out of you during your next interview with Deku. And of course, he happily supplies your demands.
ps: the interview goes viral and everyone loses their shit bc Dynamight was so obviously into you. now you’re being harassed into answering whether or not you guys fucked afterwards. your reply is always a stuttered, “no comment.”
Sigh… thinking of nerd!armin who’s not aware how fine he is until his bimbo gf post a tiktok of him between her thighs sleeping with her pink nails scratching on his head. When his girl shows him the comments of people thirsting over him a faint blush appears on his face as he chuckles.”didn’t know I had some random dude or woman’s briefs wet from me.”
His bimbo just giggles at that and brings him back between her legs to lay between.”of course they do baby. Who wouldn’t want a cute nerdy pretty boy like you?”
