idk who made this gif or why it's on discord but whoever you are thank you i've gotten so much mileage out of it
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@aotwarriorsimp
idk who made this gif or why it's on discord but whoever you are thank you i've gotten so much mileage out of it
rockstar!zeke yeager you are on my mind, 1.5k words (cw drugs [cocaine], cw dubcon [bc the drugs], reader is implied afab, nfsw, just pure smut [oral, m!receiving, PIV, dacryphilia mention, blood mention, biting hard enough to break the skin, face slapping, sex while high, just a fucking mess dude], minors DNI)
i'm very much imagining him being high off his ass after a show and coming to you, his opening act, for some stress relief. you don't even really like each other but you've started this little song and dance just to keep yourselves sane. it's all very hush hush for the sake of your joint images; closed mouth cowgirl in the green room, sideways in his bunk with his hand pressed to your lips, doggy in motel rooms after everyone else has gone to sleep. you know it'll end poorly, whether it be with a fight or just being ghosted, but you can't bring yourself to stop. none of the other shitty punks from your label have been able to make you cum like zeke can, till your thighs are shaking and your nails are drawing blood. only him. only ever him.
Summer monke
Rkgk 🥎
Big brother is watching you
Heads up - Zeke Yeager
MDNI
AN: tomorrow is my birthday, happy birthday to me
The dim light of the living room lamp casts long shadows across the modern apartment, the faint hum of city traffic filtering through the cracked window. Zeke lounges in his worn leather armchair, legs spread wide, a fresh cigarette dangling from his lips. He exhales a slow plume of smoke, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that always make your stomach twist in anticipation. You're on your knees between his thighs, hands resting on the rough denim of his jeans, heart pounding as you gaze up at him.
"That's it, baby," Zeke murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, laced with that commanding edge that sends shivers down your spine. He takes another drag, the cherry glowing bright before he flicks ash into the tray on the side table. His free hand reaches down, fingers threading through your hair, not pulling yet, just guiding. "Get those pretty lips on my cock. Show me how much you want it."
You lean forward, unzipping his fly with eager fingers, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. It's already half-hard, heavy in your hand as you stroke it once, feeling it twitch and swell under your touch. Zeke groans softly, smoke curling from his nostrils as he watches you. You part your lips and take the head into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting the salt of his skin.
"Fuck, yeah," he growls, his grip tightening in your hair just enough to make you gasp around him. He pushes your head down gently at first, urging you to take more. "Suck it like you mean it, sweetheart. I want to feel that throat working me over." You hollow your cheeks, sliding down further, your mouth stretching around his girth as you bob your head, lips sealed tight. The scent of tobacco clings to him, mixing with his musky arousal, heightening every sensation.
Zeke takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before blowing it out in a steady stream above you. His hips buck slightly, thrusting shallowly into your mouth. "Look at you, on your knees like a good little slut. My cock's stretching that mouth so wide—bet you're getting wet just from tasting me, aren't you?" His words hit you like a spark, heat pooling between your legs as you moan around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath.
You pick up the pace, one hand wrapping around the base to stroke what you can't fit, your tongue pressing flat against the underside as you suck harder. Saliva drips down your chin, but you don't care—his praise, filthy and unfiltered, spurs you on. "That's my girl," Zeke rasps, cigarette burning low now as he stubs it out in the ashtray. His other hand joins the first in your hair, controlling the rhythm, fucking your mouth with deliberate thrusts. "Gonna make you choke on it. Swallow every inch for me."
Your eyes water as he pushes deeper, the head bumping the back of your throat, but the dominance in his voice, the way he owns the moment, only makes you want more. You gag softly, but keep going, hollowing your cheeks again, determined to please him. Zeke's breath hitches, his thighs tensing under your palms. "Shit, you're so fucking good at this. Keep sucking, baby—I'm close. Want my cum down that throat?"
You nod as best you can, humming affirmatively, and he rewards you with a deep groan, hips snapping forward one last time. Hot spurts fill your mouth as he comes, holding your head in place until you've swallowed every drop. You pull back slowly, licking your lips, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Zeke slumps back in the chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his features, his cock softening against his thigh.
For a moment, he just looks at you, eyes dark with lingering hunger. Then, feeling that rare spark of generosity, he reaches down, hooking a finger under your chin to tilt your face up. "Come here," he says, voice softer but still edged with command. You rise slightly on your knees, and his hand slides down, dipping under the waistband of your pants. His fingers find your soaked pussy, parting your folds with ease.
"So wet for me already," he chuckles, circling your clit with his thumb before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasp, rocking against his hand as he curls them, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur. "That's what sucking my cock does to you, huh? My dirty girl." He pumps steadily, thumb pressing your clit in firm circles, building the pressure until you're trembling, chasing the release he's giving you so freely.
It doesn't take long—his touch is skilled, relentless—and you shatter around his fingers with a cry, clenching tight as waves of pleasure crash over you. Zeke watches every second, withdrawing his hand only when you're spent, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips for a taste. "Good girl," he murmurs, pulling you up into his lap for a lazy kiss, the taste of smoke and you lingering on his tongue.
Heads up - Zeke Yeager
MDNI
AN: tomorrow is my birthday, happy birthday to me
The dim light of the living room lamp casts long shadows across the modern apartment, the faint hum of city traffic filtering through the cracked window. Zeke lounges in his worn leather armchair, legs spread wide, a fresh cigarette dangling from his lips. He exhales a slow plume of smoke, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that always make your stomach twist in anticipation. You're on your knees between his thighs, hands resting on the rough denim of his jeans, heart pounding as you gaze up at him.
"That's it, baby," Zeke murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, laced with that commanding edge that sends shivers down your spine. He takes another drag, the cherry glowing bright before he flicks ash into the tray on the side table. His free hand reaches down, fingers threading through your hair, not pulling yet, just guiding. "Get those pretty lips on my cock. Show me how much you want it."
You lean forward, unzipping his fly with eager fingers, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. It's already half-hard, heavy in your hand as you stroke it once, feeling it twitch and swell under your touch. Zeke groans softly, smoke curling from his nostrils as he watches you. You part your lips and take the head into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting the salt of his skin.
"Fuck, yeah," he growls, his grip tightening in your hair just enough to make you gasp around him. He pushes your head down gently at first, urging you to take more. "Suck it like you mean it, sweetheart. I want to feel that throat working me over." You hollow your cheeks, sliding down further, your mouth stretching around his girth as you bob your head, lips sealed tight. The scent of tobacco clings to him, mixing with his musky arousal, heightening every sensation.
Zeke takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before blowing it out in a steady stream above you. His hips buck slightly, thrusting shallowly into your mouth. "Look at you, on your knees like a good little slut. My cock's stretching that mouth so wide—bet you're getting wet just from tasting me, aren't you?" His words hit you like a spark, heat pooling between your legs as you moan around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath.
You pick up the pace, one hand wrapping around the base to stroke what you can't fit, your tongue pressing flat against the underside as you suck harder. Saliva drips down your chin, but you don't care—his praise, filthy and unfiltered, spurs you on. "That's my girl," Zeke rasps, cigarette burning low now as he stubs it out in the ashtray. His other hand joins the first in your hair, controlling the rhythm, fucking your mouth with deliberate thrusts. "Gonna make you choke on it. Swallow every inch for me."
Your eyes water as he pushes deeper, the head bumping the back of your throat, but the dominance in his voice, the way he owns the moment, only makes you want more. You gag softly, but keep going, hollowing your cheeks again, determined to please him. Zeke's breath hitches, his thighs tensing under your palms. "Shit, you're so fucking good at this. Keep sucking, baby—I'm close. Want my cum down that throat?"
You nod as best you can, humming affirmatively, and he rewards you with a deep groan, hips snapping forward one last time. Hot spurts fill your mouth as he comes, holding your head in place until you've swallowed every drop. You pull back slowly, licking your lips, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Zeke slumps back in the chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his features, his cock softening against his thigh.
For a moment, he just looks at you, eyes dark with lingering hunger. Then, feeling that rare spark of generosity, he reaches down, hooking a finger under your chin to tilt your face up. "Come here," he says, voice softer but still edged with command. You rise slightly on your knees, and his hand slides down, dipping under the waistband of your pants. His fingers find your soaked pussy, parting your folds with ease.
"So wet for me already," he chuckles, circling your clit with his thumb before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasp, rocking against his hand as he curls them, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur. "That's what sucking my cock does to you, huh? My dirty girl." He pumps steadily, thumb pressing your clit in firm circles, building the pressure until you're trembling, chasing the release he's giving you so freely.
It doesn't take long—his touch is skilled, relentless—and you shatter around his fingers with a cry, clenching tight as waves of pleasure crash over you. Zeke watches every second, withdrawing his hand only when you're spent, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips for a taste. "Good girl," he murmurs, pulling you up into his lap for a lazy kiss, the taste of smoke and you lingering on his tongue.
Santa’s baby
Excuse me did somebody say Zekemas smut???
Do we want more Xmas Zeke??
MDNI
🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄
The holiday party buzzed with warmth and laughter in Zeke's friend's cozy apartment, where fairy lights twinkled like captured stars along the mantel and windows, casting a golden hue over the mismatched furniture and half-empty platters of cookies and spiced cider. The air carried the scent of cinnamon and pine from a modestly decorated tree in the corner, its ornaments glinting softly. You and Zeke had been dancing around this attraction for what felt like forever—stolen glances across rooms, witty exchanges that lingered a touch too long, the kind of chemistry that simmered just below the surface. Tonight, with everyone in high spirits, eggnog cups in hand and carols playing faintly from a speaker, the atmosphere felt ripe for something to finally give.
You spotted the Santa hat on a side table amid the clutter of gifts and discarded wrapping paper, its red velvet and white fur pom-pom screaming for trouble. Zeke lounged on the worn leather couch, legs stretched out, his blond hair slightly disheveled from running his fingers through it earlier. That beard of his—full and neatly trimmed—framed his strong jaw, giving him an unintentionally rugged edge that made your stomach flip every time you looked at him. Grinning to yourself, you snatched the hat and approached, weaving past a couple chatting animatedly about office drama.
'Hey, Santa,' you said, voice light and teasing as you stopped in front of him. His blue eyes lifted to yours, a spark of amusement flickering there. Before he could protest, you reached out and plopped the hat onto his head, adjusting it so the pom-pom dangled jauntily over one ear. 'There. Now you match the vibe. All that's missing is the ho-ho-ho.'
Zeke's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile, his fingers coming up to toy with the brim but not removing it. Instead, he settled deeper into the cushions, the hat staying put like a crown he was willing to wear just for you. 'Santa, am I? Bold move, elf. You trying to get on the nice list or audition for the naughty one?' His voice was deep, laced with that dry humor that always pulled you in, and the way his gaze held yours—intense, unblinking—sent a subtle thrill racing up your spine.
You laughed, shaking your head as you hovered there, the party's chatter fading into background noise. A few friends glanced over, chuckling at the sight, but Zeke's attention never wavered from you. 'Elf? I'll take it. Better than being one of your reindeer.' You crossed your arms, tilting your head. 'But seriously, you pull it off. The beard sells it.'
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, the motion drawing your eyes to the soft texture of it, imagining how it might feel against skin. 'Flattery will get you everywhere. Come here—sit with Santa and spill your secrets.' He patted his thigh invitingly, the gesture casual but loaded, his eyes darkening just a fraction.
Heart pounding a little faster, you glanced around—no one paying too close attention—before lowering yourself onto his lap, straddling one of his legs more than fully settling, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. The fabric of his dark sweater was soft under your palms, and you could feel the solid warmth of his body beneath. The Santa hat bobbed slightly with the movement, and up close, his cologne—a mix of woodsy notes and something faintly citrus—wrapped around you like an embrace.
Zeke's hands came to rest on your hips, not gripping hard but steady enough to anchor you, his thumbs brushing the hem of your shirt in idle circles. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, voice dropping to a husky whisper meant only for you. 'So tell me, were you a good girl or a bad girl this year?'
You rolled your eyes, a genuine laugh bubbling up as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, the pom-pom of the hat brushing your forehead. 'Define good,' you shot back, keeping your tone playful, though the proximity—the way his beard grazed your cheek lightly—made your pulse quicken.
He smirked, that infuriatingly charming expression crinkling the corners of his eyes. 'You know, sweet, nice stuff like that. Helping old ladies cross the street, not teasing unsuspecting guys with holiday props.' His fingers tightened fractionally on your hips, pulling you a hair closer, and you shifted instinctively, feeling the heat radiating from him.
The group around you carried on—someone cranking up the music, another round of toasts clinking glasses—but in this bubble, it was just the two of you, the Christmas lights painting soft patterns across his face. 'Well,' you drawled, tracing a finger along the collar of his sweater, 'I've been mostly good. But a little bad never hurt anyone.' Your words hung there, laced with invitation, and his smirk deepened.
Zeke tilted his head, the hat shifting with him, and whispered again, his lips so close they nearly brushed your earlobe. 'And what do you want for Christmas, then? Name it—Santa's listening.' His voice was a low rumble, vibrating through you, and one hand slid up your side, thumb grazing the curve of your ribcage under your shirt.
You bit your lip, considering, the flirtation sparking like the lights overhead. 'Don't know. Maybe for someone to finally make a move. Or a purse—I'm not picky.' You teased lightly, your eyes locking onto his, challenging him to bite.
He laughed then, a rich, genuine sound that rumbled from his chest and made your thighs clench subtly against him. 'And maybe that someone was waiting for a green light from an impossibly hot and beautiful elf.' His words washed over you, bold and direct, and heat flooded your cheeks, a flush you couldn't hide. Zeke's eyes tracked it, satisfaction gleaming in them as he smirked wider. 'There it is. Blushing suits you.'
Before you could retort, he shifted beneath you—deliberate, unhurried—adjusting his hips so you felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against your core through the layers of clothing. It was firm, insistent, and the friction sent a jolt straight to your center, making you gasp softly. His hands guided you to rock just once, a subtle grind that had your breath hitching. 'See? Green's given. Question is, you ready to unwrap your gift early?'
Your flush deepened, but you didn't pull away—instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing his ear in return. 'Depends on the gift. Better be worth ditching the party for.' The words were breathless, your body already humming with anticipation, the party's energy paling against the tension coiling between you.
From there, the teasing ramped up, playful barbs traded under the guise of holiday cheer. Zeke kept the Santa hat on, leaning into the role with exaggerated flair—asking the group what they'd been 'naughty' about that year, his eyes always flicking back to you with a wink that promised more. You countered by 'accidentally' spilling a drop of cider on his knee, dabbing it away with a napkin while your fingers lingered, tracing the muscle of his thigh. 'Oops. Santa's lap is sticky now—need me to clean that up?'
He caught your wrist gently, his thumb stroking the inside in a way that made your skin tingle. 'Careful, elf. Keep that up, and I'll have to take you to the workshop for a proper fitting.' The double entendre hung heavy, drawing a shared, secretive smile as laughter erupted from the others over some unrelated joke.
The night wore on like that—stolen touches when no one looked, his foot hooking around your ankle under the coffee table during a game of charades, your hand brushing his as you both reached for the same cookie. Every interaction built the fire, the air between you thickening with unspoken want. Zeke's beard caught the light when he laughed, making him look even more like the mythical figure you'd dubbed him, but the hunger in his gaze was anything but innocent. You caught him staring at your lips more than once, his fingers drumming restlessly on his knee as if counting down the minutes.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, Zeke leaned close during a lull, his whisper hot against your neck. 'This party's great, but I'd rather unwrap you somewhere private. Your call.' His hand squeezed your thigh under the table, high enough to make your breath catch.
You nodded, pulse racing. 'Let's go. Before I climb you right here and scandalize everyone.' Standing together, you made your excuses—something vague about an early morning and holiday errands—Zeke's arm brushing yours as you slipped out. The door closed behind you into the chilly December night, snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky, but the cold barely registered against the heat building inside.
The drive to his apartment was a haze of charged silence and teasing touches. Zeke's hand rested on your thigh the whole way, fingers inching higher with each red light, squeezing the soft flesh just above your knee. You retaliated by letting your hand drift to his inner thigh, nails scraping lightly over denim, feeling him tense and growl low in his throat. 'You're playing with fire, you know that?' he muttered, eyes on the road but voice rough with restraint.
'Good thing I'm feeling naughty,' you replied, your palm pressing firmer against the bulge straining his jeans. He swerved slightly into his parking spot, killing the engine with a curse under his breath.
Inside, the door had barely clicked shut before Zeke was on you—backing you against the wall, his mouth crashing down on yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, devouring. He tasted like spiced cider and raw need, his beard rasping deliciously against your chin as he angled deeper, one hand cupping your jaw while the other yanked your coat free. You fumbled with his belt, the Santa hat finally tumbling to the floor forgotten as buttons gave way and zippers rasped.
'Bedroom—now,' he panted, scooping you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you down the short hall. His apartment was simple—dark wood floors, a few bookshelves, the faint scent of coffee lingering—but none of it mattered as he kicked the door open and lowered you onto the king-sized bed, the mattress dipping under your weight.
Zeke stripped you methodically, eyes dark and reverent as he peeled away layers: your sweater tugged over your head, revealing the lace bra that made him groan; jeans shimmied down your hips, his lips following the path with open-mouthed kisses along your thighs. 'Fuck, you're gorgeous,' he murmured, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside, his large hands immediately palming your breasts, thumbs circling the hardening nipples until you arched into him.
You weren't idle—tugging his shirt off to expose the broad expanse of his chest, blond hair dusting his pecs and trailing down to where his pants hung low. Your fingers delved into the waistband, shoving them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free—thick, veined, the tip already slick with pre-cum. It throbbed in your hand as you stroked him once, twice, drawing a hiss from his lips. 'Eager elf,' he teased, but his voice cracked, hips bucking into your grip.
He batted your hand away gently, kneeling between your spread legs after shedding the rest of his clothes. His mouth descended on your breasts first, latching onto one nipple with a firm suck that sent sparks shooting to your core, his tongue swirling around the peak while his teeth grazed just enough to sting sweetly. The other he kneaded roughly, pinching and rolling until you whimpered, your hands fisting in his hair, the soft strands pulling as you urged him on.
Lower he went, beard scraping your stomach in a trail of fire, until his shoulders nudged your thighs apart wider. He inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut at the sight and scent of you—bare, glistening. 'All wet for me already,' he rumbled, voice thick, before his tongue flicked out to trace your folds, lapping at your entrance with broad, flat strokes. You moaned, hips lifting as he delved deeper, sucking your clit between his lips, the vibration of his hum shooting pleasure straight through you.
His fingers joined in—two thick digits sliding inside your pussy, curling upward to rub that spongy spot that made your toes curl. He pumped them steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. 'Taste so fucking good,' he growled against you, beard damp and tickling your inner thighs as he devoured you like a man starved. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, climax building fast under the relentless assault, and when he added a third finger, stretching you, you shattered—orgasm crashing over you in waves, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, juices coating his chin.
Zeke didn't stop until you were trembling, oversensitive and boneless, then he rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes blazing. He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the fat head of his cock along your slit, teasing your still-pulsing clit. 'Ready for the main event?' he asked, voice gravelly, but he waited for your nod, your eager 'Yes, please' spurring him on.
He thrust in slowly at first, inch by inch, the stretch burning deliciously as your pussy accommodated his girth, walls hugging him tight. Fully seated, he paused, both of you breathing hard, his forehead pressed to yours. 'So tight—fuck, you feel perfect.' Then he moved, pulling back and slamming home, the bed creaking under the force.
The pace built quickly—his hips snapping against yours, cock dragging along your inner walls with each deep plunge, hitting that spot over and over. You clawed at his back, nails leaving red trails, legs hooked over his hips to take him deeper. His beard scraped your neck as he buried his face there, grunting with every thrust, one hand bracing beside your head while the other pinned your wrist to the mattress.
'Say my name,' he demanded, angle shifting to grind his pubic bone against your clit, the friction pushing you toward the edge again. 'Zeke—oh god, Zeke!' you gasped, and he rewarded you with harder strokes, the slap of skin on skin echoing, sweat slicking your bodies.
He flipped you suddenly, onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so you were on all fours. Re-entering from behind, he fucked you relentlessly, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back, the other slapping your ass lightly, the sting blooming into heat. 'That's it—take it, just like that,' he groaned, pace faltering as his own release neared. Your pussy clenched around him, second orgasm ripping through you, milking his cock until he followed—thrusts erratic, a guttural moan escaping as he came, flooding you with hot spurts deep inside.
He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his chest, both panting. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, lips brushing your shoulder. 'Best Christmas gift yet,' he murmured, the teasing lilt back in his voice, but the tenderness underneath promised this was just the start. The night stretched ahead, bodies entwined, ready for more.
Can you please do a Zeke x chubby black woman smut one shot please
Quoting Kaliii- anything for my favorite lady xx Also I remember you were a theatre teacher soooo xx
MASKS OFF
MDNI
New Brave Art of Armin, Annie and Zeke
金枝玉叶
rkgk