Hehe my birthday is tomorrow and I’m grilling hehe :3 I’m so excited gonna grill up some steak and chicken and have a pretty salad with yummy things in it heheh I’m so excited idk why lol but I love salads :3 especially ones with meats and things oh and I’m gonna make a pasta salad too :))))
oh this my cutesy bear bag hehe
I added my Hokuto and Mark charm to it :) it’s so cute @atinystaypixie @wh0sthe5pecial0ne @etumettie89 :3333 ALSO I FINALLY GOT MY HRTZ.WAV ALBUM TODAY HEHEHEHEEH SO EXCITED TO OPEN IT
GIRL IKKKK!!! AAHHHH EHEHEHEHEHHE! Im so happy u r doing something for ur bday. But like- I WANNA COME I WANNA GRILL SO BAD TOOO OMMGG!😭 I keep telling my fam we need to buy a new one so i can grill this summer😩 SEND ME PIICCSS OF UR FOOD! Girl dont get me started on salads, we have the best salad spots near me and they load up your salad with toppings. Theyre so addictive. The way I am actually considering doing this for my bday too cuz everything is so expensive and having an at home party is sounding better n better by the day lol. IM SO HAPPY FOR YOOUUU GAAAHHH AGAIN SEND ME PICS UK IM A FOODIE N LOVE FOOD !!
THE MARK CHAIN EHEHEHEHEHE! SEND ME PICS OF THE HRTZ WAV ALBUM TOO JUSEYYOOOO
YESSS HEHEHEH I’M SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TOO HEHEH I WILL SEND PICS YES PICS OF EVERYTHING THE FOOD THE PRESENTS HEHEEH I WILL POST THEM TOO HEHEH BUT YESSS YOU SHOULD DEF GRILL IT’S SO FUN AND YUMMY TOO I DEF RECOMMEND A SALAD BAR IT’S GONNA BE SO FUN :3
Hehe my birthday is tomorrow and I’m grilling hehe :3 I’m so excited gonna grill up some steak and chicken and have a pretty salad with yummy things in it heheh I’m so excited idk why lol but I love salads :3 especially ones with meats and things oh and I’m gonna make a pasta salad too :))))
oh this my cutesy bear bag hehe
I added my Hokuto and Mark charm to it :) it’s so cute @atinystaypixie @wh0sthe5pecial0ne @etumettie89 :3333 ALSO I FINALLY GOT MY HRTZ.WAV ALBUM TODAY HEHEHEHEEH SO EXCITED TO OPEN IT
GIRL IKKKK!!! AAHHHH EHEHEHEHEHHE! Im so happy u r doing something for ur bday. But like- I WANNA COME I WANNA GRILL SO BAD TOOO OMMGG!😭 I keep telling my fam we need to buy a new one so i can grill this summer😩 SEND ME PIICCSS OF UR FOOD! Girl dont get me started on salads, we have the best salad spots near me and they load up your salad with toppings. Theyre so addictive. The way I am actually considering doing this for my bday too cuz everything is so expensive and having an at home party is sounding better n better by the day lol. IM SO HAPPY FOR YOOUUU GAAAHHH AGAIN SEND ME PICS UK IM A FOODIE N LOVE FOOD !!
THE MARK CHAIN EHEHEHEHEHE! SEND ME PICS OF THE HRTZ WAV ALBUM TOO JUSEYYOOOO
You have this… habit that drives Kento insane. You'll get all dolled up - pretty dress, makeup done nice, not a hair out of place - and walk right out the door for date night.
That's not the issue.
It's when you get home and before the front door is even fully closed, before you take your heels off, you're slipping your panties down your thighs and off your legs, leaving them on the entryway floor. At least you have the decency to wear them in public, god forbid you didn't and leave wet spots in every seat you sat in.
He follows you into the bedroom after, where you're lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone, dress riding up to expose the bottom of your ass cheeks. Kento takes a deep breath at the glistening mess already coating your thighs, loosening his tie as he crosses the room to you.
He kneels on the floor next to the mattress, strong hands finding your hips to flip you onto your back. The dress rides up even further, fully exposing your dripping cunt to him when he pushes your knees into your chest.
Kento kisses his way up from your knee to your sensitive inner thighs, sucking and nipping and licking at your skin before diving into your pussy.
He never orders dessert when you go to dinner, he doesn't have to when he knows his dessert is coming home with him.
an: a rewritten repost from @blossomsicle. i would've just posted the original if i hadn't deleted it in a fit of rage 😬
“This kink is problematic when you think about it” ohhhhhh shit ok lemme head on over to the kink store and trade these kinks in for one that make my jackoff fantasies morally superior
📖: Toji lets his wife control every part of his life and loves it.
🔍: Fluff, Black!reader, mentions of gambling (not bad), married life, responsible soft!Toji, loving relationship, doting husband!Toji, construction worker!Toji, mechanic!Toji, wife!reader, they're more southern than anything
💋: 1.8k+ words
Toji had no problem with letting his wife control everything he does. In fact, he is the one who told her to do it. There was objection at first because you weren’t the controlling type, nor had you expected that from him of all people. This is the same man you have seen bark orders on a construction site, flip tires with one hand, and scolded a poor trainee until he cried. The same man who could walk into the breakroom without a word and cause everyone to scurry away was the same man who wanted to relinquish all control over his life to you.
It made sense to Toji and was as natural as breathing. You were the one who was taking care of the home more than him, so why wouldn’t you control everything? You aren’t a housewife, you have a well paying job. He’s offered to retire you, but you weren’t miserable working and enjoyed making money. Chores are set equally and he’ll clean or fix anything you tell him to. The plates need to be on this shelf and not that one? He’s on it. Clothes need washing? Got it! Want him to clean the bathroom while you finish sweeping and mopping? Done!
You knew what the house needed and picked better quality groceries, so why wouldn’t he take inventory for the shopping list to make your grocery trip easier. He still gets confused between cabbage and lettuce and zucchini and cucumber. It was better for you both if he stuck to what he knew.
He’ll build you a new bedframe, buy new light fixtures, paint the house outside and in, and even does the electrical work when needed. Toji knew his way around houses and cars extremely well. It was how you two met actually. You had your hood popped in a parking lot and he, being the gentleman he is, stopped what he was doing to help. Now did the extremely buff, scarred face man with a heavy walk and scowling face look like a concerned gentleman ready to help you? Absolutely not! You clutched your pepper spray in your hand and did a nervous scan of the lot to see if anyone would be able to hear or see you if he caused you harm.
“Car’s givin’ ya trouble, miss?” What you never expected was the soft tone his deep voice rumbled out. “Worked on’a few myself, can help if ya want.” The politeness from him caused your grip to loosen slightly on the pepper spray before you moved over to let him take a look. Even out in the fresh air, he could smell how good you smelled. Your afro is held up by a cute head wrap displaying your neck, your curls bouncy and full.
“Thanks. I don’t really know what’s going on with it, just won’t start.” He gave you a hum of acknowledgment. Your warm brown hands tap at your sides every now and then when your painted nails weren’t mindlessly tapping on the car as you looked around and waited. After some minutes, he looked up and told you words you definitely didn’t understand. After three wide eyed, blank blinks you finally spoke, “ok, Sir! I don’t know what any of that means.”
The chuckle he let out was charming and caused your own lips to curl with a grin. “It means this won’t take ya ‘round the corner and back. My truck’s got a hitch on’it or I can call you a tow truck. Either way, it needs to be towed.” You noticed how through this time he always made sure you were comfortable before doing anything. Toji’s always been aware of how women feel and the dangers they face. The last thing he wants to do is come off as a threat in an already stressful time.
After that day, you ran into each other often at the same store where your car broke down. Said store was also where you found out he struggled with differentiating between vegetables. He made the joke of, “if I ever cook for ya watch out because ya may eat boiled lettuce.”
“Oh baby, trust me I would definitely be doing the cooking. Could always teach ya if you want tho’.”
From there is when you two started going on dates and within three years were engaged. Two years after you were walking down the aisle and to your new home that Toji insisted on building. Everyone assumed Toji dressed down because he didn’t have money, the truth was he just didn’t care for money. Not before he met you. He would only buy what he needed, never cared to buy flashy cars, and didn’t love designer clothes. What he did love was you. He loved giving you the world and anything your heart desired. He used to go to work because it was a necessity to survive, now his sole motivation is to take care of you.
He never cared how much you make or how much you spend, as long as you were satisfied and happy. He even dressed up when going out with you, but only ever then because you told him he couldn’t come behind you looking thrown away and unloved. That was all he needed to hear because not only did he want to stay glued to your side, he wanted to reflect the unwavering love his woman gave him. Toji never felt so at peace until he met you. You were perfectly fine with letting him be him. You never questioned his career choices, never looked down on him. You were understanding and only encouraged him to be the best he could.
“Long as your bills gettin’ paid, you’re doing good, hun.” Those words made his heart swell. Coming from an overbearing family that pressured him to be the richest in the room and own the most buildings, he never heard someone support his own wishes. He liked construction and mechanics. He had been working a mix of both since he graduated high school. Honestly, he did nothing else other than work.
When you asked if he did anything for fun he replied, “used to gamble, but learned my lesson when I blew a check once. One time was all it took for me to know not to do it again. I still like it, just don’t participate.” That’s why now he lets you budget his gambling. Again, Toji is very aware and wouldn’t want to put you in a stressful situation. After all the bills are paid, groceries are bought, and money is set aside into savings, he lets you decide his allowance. Doesn’t matter if it’s fifty dollars or five hundred, hell even if it’s none, he’s responsible and only spends his allowance.
When he’s at the tracks, his coworkers will often joke that he needs another job because he never bets as much as them. “Not true. I just spend whatever my wife allows.” A roar of laughs echo before he sits up and stares them dead in the eyes, “I say sumn’ funny?” The playfulness quickly fell out the air when they remembered who they were laughing at. This was still the man they would rather not anger because they enjoyed not having a broken nose. Of course he hasn’t broken any noses since you scolded him about his behavior, but they didn’t need to know that he is terrified of disappointing his loving wife.
Toji was allowed to spend any amount of money he wanted but refused. “Self control is important. Gotta stay disciplined.” It’s not as if you hadn’t tried. The man works himself to the bones providing for you, he deserved to enjoy something. You even tried to convince him to upgrade his car or phone, something! But he will make sure you are not one of the women who end up complaining about their no good husband’s poor financial choices. His awareness was the exact reason you trusted him to not ruin your finances–you had plenty, but you also were not someone to push something that could turn into an addiction.
The real addiction that needed to be addressed was his splurges on you. Toji had much to learn when it came to you, but when he did…he locked in. Knotless braids cost how much? It doesn’t sound right but it’s also girly stuff and that’s always expensive, here’s his card. You need more makeup? He may not know why you can’t just put that powdery stuff from your eyes on your cheeks, but he’s swiping his card. He’s working on-site today but you want to get your nails done? All he asks is you get them a little sharp again so he can feel them against his skin. Of course you will need your lashes done. They accent those pretty brown eyes when you’re batting them at him for something he’s already going to say yes to.
He’s more on top of your selfcare than you. Every two weeks, a day before you actually went last to get maintenance, he’s asking, “need money for your beauty things, doll? Here.” Before you can even answer yes, no, if you even have an appointment, or if you even need to get anything done right now, a ping is coming to your phone notifying you of a money transfer. He felt very proud of this because he researched and found nails typically grow out within two weeks before a fill-in or new set is needed. He knew some things about your beauty things!!…or whatever you call them.
You’re coming up on your third year of marriage and you’re expecting soon. Things have almost got worse with what he spends on you. You don’t know it, but the money you give him for his fun has now gone to a separate savings account. You have a joint savings account and both of you have been pouring in even before the thought of a kid came up, but he can’t help but do more. He’s been pampering you even more! Anything that’s made for maternity comfort, anything that helps with cravings, anything that you even looked at.
He’s spoiling you so well you almost consider getting pregnant again before even birthing this one. His rough hands feel like heaven on your sore, swollen feet. Your darker skin was shining from all the lotions and soothing oils he applied for you. He made sure to rub from the sole of your feet to the tips of your toes with one hand while the other massaged and gently rotated your ankle. He even attempted cooking but you told him it’s better for you and the baby if he stays out the kitchen after he destructively burnt your cute non-stick skillet.
Toji of course listened because he will always listen to his wife.
Pixie's Flying🧚🏽♀️
Woowwww it's been a min huh? Anywaayss! My inbox is back open, blog back active, and Pixie's back to sprinkling sparkles! Feel free to stop by her sparkly blog! 👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽
Pixie's Masterlist!
Accepting new anon's! DM or inbox me about it. I'll make a new google form later.
The first thing everyone notices about you is the color pink.
Pink scrubs. Pink pens. A pink clipboard covered in tiny pastel stickers—hearts, flowers, and a little cartoon bandage with a smiley face on it.
The second thing everyone notices is that you aren’t afraid of Ghost.
Which, according to the entire base, makes you either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
You hear the warnings your first week.
Soap leans against the med bay counter one morning while you organize gauze rolls, watching you with mild disbelief. “Ye know who that is, right?”
You glance up from the gauze rolls. “Who?”
“The big skull mask bloke who walks around like death himself.”
Gaz laughs from the doorway. “Lieutenant Ghost. Terrifies recruits for fun..? Breaks doors instead of knocking. That one?”
You blink once.
“Oh.”
Soap waits for you to react properly.
You simply shrug. “He seems nice.”
Soap nearly chokes.
The truth is, you’ve already met him.
It was two days ago. He walked past the med bay after training, boots heavy against the tile, gear slung over one shoulder. He’s massive—broad shoulders, tall enough that the overhead lights catch on the edges of the skull mask he never takes off.
You looked up from your desk.
And you smiled.
“Good afternoon..” a pause to look at the name Velcroed to his chest “Lieutenant Riley.”
He stopped walking.
People don’t greet him like that. You could tell by the way the hallway went quiet.
He stared at you for a moment through the black eye sockets of the mask, eyes dark and unreadable.
“…Afternoon.”
His voice was low. Almost.. hesitant?
You nodded politely and went back to writing on your clipboard.
Like it was completely normal.
After that, you greet him every time you see him.
“Hi, Lieutenant.”
“Morning, Lieutenant!”
“Hope you’re having a nice day Lieutenant.”
He never smiles—at least not that you can see—but he always gives a small grunt of acknowledgement. That’s enough for you.
What you do notice is that he never shows up to the med bay.
Which is a problem, because everyone is required to attend a monthly checkup.
Soap comes in complaining the whole time. Gaz jokes through the entire exam. Even Captain Price shows up on schedule.
Ghost?
Doesn’t come at all.
Three days after his appointment passes, you spot him turning the corner of a hallway and nearly run into his chest.
You stop just in time.
He looks down at you slowly.
Up close he’s even bigger.
You smile.
“Hi, Lieutenant Riley.”
“…What.”
You check your pink clipboard.
“You missed your checkup.”
He stares at you through the mask.
“…No I didn’t.”
You turn the clipboard around so he can see the neat list written in pink ink.
SIMON RILEY — MISSED APPOINTMENT
He exhales slowly through his nose.
“Not goin’.”
You tilt your head a little. “Why?”
“Don’t need it.”
The tone clearly says the conversation is over.
So you write something on your clipboard.
“Okay.”
He seems surprised by that. Like he expected an argument.
He steps past you.
Then you add sweetly, “I’ll just have to keep finding you until you do it.”
He stops walking.
Slowly turns his head.
You’re still smiling.
“…You serious?”
“Mhm.”
You tap the clipboard. “You’re overdue.”
He studies you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking.
You aren’t.
So over the next few days, you keep finding him.
In the hallway. Near the training room. Once outside the armory.
Every time, you smile.
Every time, you remind him.
“Your checkup is still overdue, Lieutenant.”
By the fourth time, he finally walks into the med bay himself.
You look up from your desk and brighten immediately.
“Oh! Hi, Lieutenant Riley.”
He sits in the chair like a man being sentenced.
“Do it quick.”
You nod happily. “Of course.”
You move through the exam like you would with anyone else. Pulse first. Your fingers rest lightly against his wrist while you count.
His skin is warm.
“Heart rate’s good,” you murmur, jotting the numbers down on your pink clipboard.
You reach for your stethoscope next. “Deep breath for me.”
He obeys, shoulders rising slowly.
The med bay is quiet except for your pen scratching across paper.
You don’t rush. You don’t treat him differently.
He’s just another patient.
“Alright,” you say gently after a moment. “Next I need to check your throat.”
He goes still.
You pause.
“Oh—right. Mask.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a small moment of silence before you ask softly, “Would it be alright if you lifted it just enough for me to see?”
You wait.
Most people would probably push him. Demand it. Try to force the issue.
You simply stand there patiently.
Eventually his hand lifts to the mask, pulling it up just enough for his mouth to be visible.
You don’t react. Don’t stare.
You lean a little closer with the small penlight. “Open please.”
He does.
You check his throat quickly, professional and calm.
“All good.” you say a moment later.
He lowers the mask again.
The rest of the checkup is quick—blood pressure, reflex test, a few more notes on your clipboard.
When you’re finished, you smile.
“All done.”
He stands from the chair.
There’s a brief pause before he gestures toward your scrubs.
“…Pink’s not regulation.”
You glance down at yourself.
“I know.”
“Why wear it then?”
You shrug. “Because I like it.”
He stares at you for a quiet second longer, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.
Then he turns toward the door.
Halfway out, he stops.
“…Thanks.”
The word comes out rough. Quiet.
But genuine.
You watch him leave before looking down at your clipboard and writing the final note beneath his name in pink ink.
he thought he put you to sleep… turns out you just like tiktok.
→ black!f reader | fluff |
the room is quiet except for the soft glow of your phone lighting up the blankets.
you’re trying so hard not to laugh out loud, shoulders shaking as another tiktok plays. connie had just finished giving you the best dick of your life like he always does and you did fall asleep… but then you randomly woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.
so now you’re stuck scrolling, giggling into the pillow trying not to wake him.
next to you, connie shifts in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent before rolling over.
you think he’s still asleep.
he’s not.
one eye cracks open, squinting at the light hitting his face.
“baby… why aren’t you asleep?” he asks, voice confused.
you pause the video, turning toward him. “i couldn’t sleep.”
he slowly pushes himself up, hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep as he stares at you like you just personally betrayed him.
“couldn’t sleep?” he repeats.
you nod, already smiling because you know that look.
he frowns.
like… really frowns.
his brows pull together, lips pushing into a pout.
“…i didn’t do a good job?” he asks quietly.
you blink. “what?”
he sits up more now, looking genuinely stressed.
“i didn’t fuck you good?” he says, offended. “cause usually you be knocked out. now you wide awake laughing at tiktoks like i ain’t just put in work.”
he sits up more now, blanket sliding down his chest, looking genuinely concerned.
“like be honest,” he says, rubbing his face. “i thought i put you to sleep.”
you stare at him for half a second before bursting into laughter.
“connie—”
“nah i’m serious,” he interrupts, pouting now. “usually you be sleep right after. you laughing and shit like i ain’t just put in work.”
you laugh harder, grabbing his arm. “baby, relax!”
he flops back onto the pillow dramatically, staring at the ceiling like his life just fell apart. “damn. i’m losing my touch.”
“you are so dramatic,” you giggle, scooting closer to him.
he side-eyes you suspiciously. “so… i did put it down on you?”
you roll your eyes, poking his cheek. “yes, you did.”
his pout disappears instantly.
“aight,” he nods seriously. “just checking.”
you shake your head, still smiling, and he pulls you against his chest, wrapping an arm around you like he’s reclaiming property.
“put the phone down,” he mumbles, already half asleep again. “come here.”
you rest your head against him, his heartbeat slow and warm under your ear.
there’s silence for like… five seconds.
then—
“…can i eat it?” he adds sleepily.
you snort so loud you almost fall off him. “go to sleep, connie.”
he hums, unfazed, squeezing you tighter. “worth a try.”
you laugh into his chest.
“love you,” he mumbles, words slurring as sleep pulls him under again.
and within seconds, he’s knocked out.
you glance at your phone one last time before switching it off, the room going dark except for the faint streetlight slipping through the curtains.
this time, wrapped up in him, you fall asleep too.
him smirking, hard in his pants, rubbing a hand all over his face and trying not to look too turned on as he watches you storm away after yelling at him……
tags; black reader, virgin reader and satoru, thick/chubby reader, kind of shy but assertive reader, bimbo!reader, smut, 18+, unprotected sex
nerd satoru sluuuuuurp. this took so long but i wanted to get it out so bad i'm obsessed with nerdy jjk men! sue me! not proofread sorry :P
nerdjo absolutely loves your thigh highs. it doesn’t matter what type either. cotton thigh high socks, fish nets, nylon with lace at the rim, sometimes with a heart shaped garter to hold them up—God.
he tries not to stare, really he does. he doesn’t want to make himself seem like a loser virgin—well, more so than he already does. people tend to steer clear of his lackluster aura and he doesn’t go out of his way to interact with anyone outside of his nerdy little circle. but you, oh you looove to bother satoru.
you two don’t have anything in common, heavens no. but you do love to bother the social outcast about stuff he couldn’t give two shits about, and despite that you always get a reaction out of him. that new album sabrina carpenter released, the marc jacob’s perfume that you just bought (he can easily smell it with how close you are), or your thigh highs. little did you know that was his favorite subject.
especially on the rare occasion where he had his shared dormitory to himself and sometimes even when he didn’t. in his bed, in the shower, at his desk where he had his digimon themed gaming set up. every time you crossed his mind, he had his throbbing cock in in his hand, his sensitive pink tip leaking a ridiculous amount of pre. he thought of how your soft thighs would feel wrapped around his slender waist as he fucked into your tight cunt, and in his mind, he lasts more than three minutes but doubts he would be able to in reality.
speaking of reality— “satoruuu,” your whine breaks him out of his dirty fantasies as he tries to remember what you were talking about, “are you even listening to me?” you question, pouting. you’re so close that your left thigh is pressed snugly against his, realizing you pulled your chair to be closer to his.
he clears his throat, hiding the half chub in his pants with his notebook. “s-sorry, say it again?” satoru mentally facepalms at the stutter he let slip.
“hmph—let me come over to your dorm!” you beam sweetly grabbing onto his bicep, pressing your soft chest into it, “m’always talkin’ about the stuff i like, i wanna see what you like.”
satoru stares at you as if you’ve grown two heads, making your cheeks grow hot, “y’know, see how your room’s decorated n’stuff…i already showed you mine.” you reason shyly, referring back to the pictures you showed him that you posted on your pinterest account. you’d invited him over once for a study session, for you more so than him, but he’d been adamant on going to the library instead (where he could run to the bathroom to jerk off to your outfit that day).
you were more tempting than you know, especially to a touch starved virgin like himself. but it was like every embarrassing thing that he did only enticed you rather than repulse you like it seemed to do with other girls on campus that steered clear of him like he was carrying the plague. those girls only cared about status and having popular jock boyfriends like those toji or sukuna guys. but satoru could never make the first move and you were too oblivious to understand that he felt the same way you felt about him.
see you never cared about social status or the way people viewed you, so it was easy for you to accept and recognize your little crush. and despite you being oblivious to his affection, you let yours known in the best way you knew how, shyness be damned, hence you pestering him everyday.
satoru snaps out of his daze, blue eyes fixing on your pretty frame as he stutters out an answer, “u-uhm, sure, yeah…okay!” you beam excitedly as your cheeks and ears finally cool down. “yay!” you press your cheek into his shoulder as you hug his arm that you’re leaning on into your chest, “i’ll give you my number and text you when my classes are over.”
you don’t really give him a say in the contact exchange but he’s definitely not complaining. “t-today!?” he exclaims as his eyes widen just a little. he felt like he needed more time to prepare, for what, who knows. what if his roommates left the place a mess after he left for class this morning? what if his room wasn’t as clean as he thought it was? millions of possibilities ran through his head as you put your phone number in his phone, adding a pink heart next to your name. as you type, the only thing on your mind is why you didn’t get his number before today.
deciding to save your regrets for later, you realize everyone is packing up to either end their day or go to their next class. you quickly do the same while continuing to chat him up, “so i’ll see you later! i’ll bring snacks!”
”u-uhm yeah okay, later…” he stutters as he watches you walk away and god does he love to watch you walk away.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*
satoru spends the rest of his day nervous for what’s to come, silently praying he doesn’t make a fool of himself. when he told his equally nerdy roommates about the situation they were skeptical, “are you sure she’s not playing some prank on you?” suguru asks, not to be mean but pretty girls like you never really want anything to do with guys like them.
”i doubt it is, its not like she’s coming over to copy your notes or something, right?” kento says, having some faith in you despite not knowing you well, “so she’s not using you to do her work at the very least” he finishes.
suguru hums in agreement, guessing that’s true. satoru is fiddling with his fingers and constantly pushing up his thick lenses, having nothing to do but wait as he’d already straightened up. thankfully his roommates didn’t leave the place a mess like the scenario in his mind so at the very least, he can cross that mishap off the list. as the three of them chat it up, satoru eventually relaxes. the worst that can happen is you ghost him and not show up. at least he wouldn’t be embarrassed in a public place. but speak of the devil and she shall appear. well you didn’t exactly appear, but you did text him.
1:53PM
y/n💓; toru!! i’m on my way ☺️
satoru had told you what dorm he stayed in while the two of you were in class so you already knew where you were headed.
“was that her?” suguru questions as he hears satoru's phone ding. he nods, too busy trying to figure out how to respond to such a simple text.
”she’s on her way, she says…” he mutters in somewhat disbelief. it’s not like you’ve ever given him any reason to not trust you, but he just couldn’t believe you wanted to hand out with him of all people. him.
1:58PM
toruuu🤍; ok, c u soon.
that was casual enough right? not too eager? he confides in his friends, although it’s not like they would know what advice to give, but suguru acts like he does, “that’s fine bro, you don’t wanna seem too excited”
kento rolls his eyes, “you have no idea what you’re talking about, stop acting like you do.” the long haired roommate lets out a huff with a slight pout, feeling as though he was giving sound advice. satoru knows that kento is correct and suguru has no idea what he’s talking about, but their nonchalance helps him calm down, though not as much as before considering you’re actively on your way here. right now. to his dorm. to hang out.
jujutsu university is huge but you must have been close by because only ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. the two roommates wait and watch as satoru goes to open the door. usually the two wouldn’t be so imposing, especially not kento, but they’re curious.
as the door clicks open they hear your cheery voice, “hiiii toru!” you beam cutely.
“toru!?” suguru mouths to kento, shoving him with his elbow as the blonde shakes his head, shoving him back as the two of you walk into the living room area of the dorm.
as the white haired man was about to shyly introduce his roommates, you speak up first, “oh! this place is big!” the living area is bigger than in the two room dorm you share with your friend ieiri, but you’re assuming it’s because there’s three of them.
the men take you in in all your glory, satoru included. you had changed out of your clothes that you wore to class, seemingly freshly showered. they take in your cute skirt, baby tee, and fucking thigh highs.
despite himself, satoru quickly snaps out of his ogling, “this is kento and suguru” he mummers as he adjusts his pants discreetly behind your back as you shake their hands.
”hiiii, i’m y/n” you smile shyly. you’re trying to keep yourself in check and calm, but you’re just so excited to see another part of satoru that others don’t get to. before suguru can try and spark up a stupid conversation about nothing, satoru gestures towards his room, ushering you in there with shaky hands. as soon as you turn your back, the other two adjusts their pants the same way satoru had to.
you make a mental note to talk to them later, wanting to know the people your secret long time crush spends most of his time with. as you step into his room you take it all in. you think his digimon gaming set up is so cute and the shelf full of manga and action figures looks so cool and colorful, although you don’t touch anything. you let him know exactly what’s running through your usually lipgloss and glitter filled brain and he’s so thankful that you don’t tell him how much of a loser he is.
though truthfully, you don’t tell him everything going through your head. like how the scent of him filling up his room makes your pussy leak and clench around nothing. or how, as you hop on his bed like you own it, you wonder how often he’s jerked off in it. you sit cross cross on the mattress, totally disregarding the skirt you’re wearing, and pat the spot next to you.
”t-there’s not really much for us to do here…sorry” he speaks quietly as he sits next to you, keeping his distance, trying to be respectful of your personal space.
“s’okay toru,” you scoot close enough for your thighs to touch as you stretch out your legs, “let’s watch a movie!” you gesture towards the tv in front of his bed and lean over to grab the remote you spotted on his bedside dresser. the position causes your well endowed chest to squish against him as your fruity scent fills his senses. he clenches his jaw and does his absolute best to ignore the twitching in his sweats, willing his appendage to listen to him just for once.
he hops up from the bed abruptly, closing the curtains and turning off the light so you can clearly see the tv. opening the streaming app, you let him pick the movie, grinning as he blushes and starts some sci-fi movie that he claims is his favorite. as he settles back into his bed, you don’t let him keep the distance, scooting flush against his side with your plush body.
as the movie plays, your body gradually relaxes and soon enough you smoothly force your way under satoru's arm, nuzzling into his side. the man in question has his hands clenched into tight fists, paying no attention to the movie as he squeezes his eyes shut trying not to focus on his aching cock that he just got control of.
if you’re being honest, the movie is actually interesting, but you’d be lying if you said you were able to pay attention to it about an hour in. satoru's body is so much bigger than yours, and it’s so warm as you nuzzle your face into his side, splaying your small palm across his tummy. you definitely got comfortable quick, as if the two of you do this all the time.
you start to think you’re making him uncomfortable because he keeps shifting his hips around. what better way to find out than to ask?
“satoru,” you purr quietly, not wanting to interrupt the atmosphere as you peer up at him, “should i move? you uncomfortable?”
satoru shakes his head fearing that his vocal cords will fail him if he even attempts to use them at this moment. his answer makes you grin, rubbing his belly as if petting him after you wrap his arm around your shoulder. his limbs are long enough that, in this position, his hands nearly reach your plump bottom. actually, if he stretched his arm out just a little more–.
satoru's praying that the room is dark enough for you to not see the growing bulge in his sweats. please blackout curtains, work your magic.
unfortunately, or not, they didn’t do enough. maybe it was the light from the tv or maybe you were too close to not notice the fucking snake in his loose pants (albeit they’re tighter than usual right now). seeing the effect you have on the white haired male gives you the confidence you usually wouldn’t have. you’re no longer paying attention to the screen in front of the two of you as you drag a pointer finger softly from his sternum down to where you imagine his happy trail to be. you feel him shudder and bite your lip softly as you watch his shaft twitch happily, just begging to be let free.
you figure you won’t get where you want if you don’t just straight up ask. yes you’re usually shy, but you know what you want and with this burst of confidence, you’re going to get it. you decide to take a page out of your friend Ieiri’s book and be as blunt as possible.
“toru,” you start innocently as you feel his hand that’s resting on you twitch slightly, nervously.
“hm?” he hums in reply, at this point, he’s not focused on the movie anymore either, although his eyes are, his mind is elsewhere.
your cheeks grow hot at the thought of what you’re about to say–what you’re about to ask. but just thinking about it isn’t going to get you anywhere, or get you off. you push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your calves now, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you face him. “c-can i–suck you off?” you stutter out, instantly embarrassed.
satoru sits there with his mouth gaping like a fish out of water as he tries to process what you just asked him. just as you’re thinking there may have been a better way for you to ask, he pushes up his falling frames as he frantically does his best to answer you with actual words this time, “i-sure! i mean yes, b-but i’ve never–” you cut him off, more worried about your inexperience than his own, “me neither!” you reassure, “it’d–you’d be my first…but i really like you so…”
he can’t believe his ears. you like him? you like him? he can’t fucking believe the situation he’s in right now, you look so cute like this. you’re shy because of him of all people, sitting in his bed as you squeeze your thighs together while fidgeting with your fingers. “w-we can start off slow” you mumble as you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. you rest your center right on top of his bulge and the both of you gasp quietly at the foreign feeling of each other.
satoru doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he settles for gripping your waist lightly as he rubs his thumbs into your soft waist that’s not covered by your baby tee. instinctively, you try to clench your thighs, but of course you’re stopped by his body in between them. fucking christ. satoru decided he shouldn’t keep you waiting, shouldn’t keep forcing you to make every first move. he leans in for a kiss, slightly hunched over due to his enormous size, he presses his lips to your soft ones in a long awaited peck. the two of you pull apart, noses touching before eagerly diving back in for more. satoru pulls you closer as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding your pussy into his, now fully erected, cock. having decided to forego shorts under your slutty skirt (that you wore just for him) you can feel everything. as the two of you whimper into your needy kiss, you briefly think that there is no way he’s going to fit inside your mouth, let alone your cunt.
gaining confidence, satoru runs his hands from your waist to your ass, giving you a firm squeeze, “s-satoru—” you squeal into his pink lips as you feel yourself clench desperately around nothing.
“s-sorry! too much?” he questions quickly, returning his big hands back to your waist.
you fight back a whine and instead desperately put his hands back on your ass, “no! j-just feels really nice. i like it.” like is a huge understatement, you’re a damn faucet at this point.
oh. oh. you lean in for another kiss once more before lifting yourself off of his lap. “wan’ you in my mouth now, kay?” shit. satoru can’t hide his excitement as you crawl down his body, it’s twitching in his pants and huge. you pull at the waist of his pants, tugging them down slightly as you look up at him for consent one more time before you get to work. he nods hurriedly at your pause and you waste no time freeing him from his straining clothes, giggling sweetly at his digimon themed briefs, making him blush. in his defense he never dreamed he would make it this far with you, or anyone for that matter.
his choice in briefs is quickly disregarded as your mouth waters when his cock springs free, pretty and leaking from his tip. “your–toru, your cock is so pretty” you sigh breathlessly as you take him in your soft hands, stroking him gently. he whines loudly at your gentle touch, sensitive as you’re the first person, besides himself, to touch him here. you give his fat tip kitten licks at first, only having read about giving a man head, or seeing it in porn. neither compares to the real thing. neither compares to satoru.
you completely wrap your lips around him and suck—it takes all of his self control to not hold your head down and fuck his cock into your mouth. “f-fuck, yeah that’s good” he moans as he places a hand on the back of your head, not pushing, just there. the other is fisting the sheets next to his thigh, nearly ripping them apart as you hum around him, pleased.
you take him as deep as possible, trying not to gag, though that proves impossible due to the sheer size of him. the feeling of your tight throat constricting around him is proven to be too much for him, his self control slipping by the minute—longer than he thought he’d last. his hips involuntarily twitch upwards, shoving his cock further down your throat making you gag again. your eyes roll into the back of your head, the idea of him using your mouth to get off turning you on immensely as he tries to apologize profusely, “fuuuck—sorry! i-nngh–” his stuttered speech is cut off as you grab his hips and guide them to fuck your face with a desperate hum. self control be damned, he takes your hint in stride, now gripping the back of your head as he lifts his hips on his own to shove him in and out of your little mouth. you rest your hands on his surprisingly toned thighs as you let him fuck into you as deep as he could while listening to his deseperate moans and whines, “t-this is s’fuckin’ gooood.”
he’s now holding on to the sides of your head, forcing you to meet his thrusts as you drool all over his dick, he balls equally as wet and slapping against your chin. you breathe through your nose as much as possible, desperate to please the man you’ve wanted for the longest. throwing his head back against the headboard, he moans loudly, dangerously close to his peak. he never really cared about being quiet when you two first started your activities.
“y/n—think m’gonna cum,” he whimpers, “pretty, i–ohhh!” his cock slips out of your mouth as his orgasm hits him full force. you squeak out in surprise as he releases all over your face, barely having time to close your eyes as you stroke him through it with sweet praises.
“mm, there you go baby,” you purr with a slight grin, “taste s’good.” you lick his thick release off of your lips before pressing a soft kiss to his pink tip. at this point you’re leaking through your panties onto his sheets. luckily for you, as you straddle back onto his lap to give him a kiss, you can feel his cock between your thighs, still hard and twitching as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth.
satoru kisses you back with fervor, the taste of your tongue and his cum surprisingly addictive. he grips your thighs as you rest on your knees, weary of his sensitive shaft, as you hum into the kiss. his big hands feel so good wrapped around your thighs as he plays with the hem of your thigh highs. “can you fuck me toru?” you ask sweetly, pulling the up the bottom of his top, urging it off of him as he easily complies. he takes a second or two to clean your pretty face with his shirt after you pull it off, not wanting his cum to dry on your face.
“yes” he answers quickly, ridding you of your own top next, realizing you’re braless. of course you are. you pull your skirt and panties off before going for his bottoms, pulling them off completely. you grin, leaning in as you rub your nose against his, “should i keep the socks on?” you grin looking into his pretty blue eyes. his face is on fire as he nods in affirmation. he guesses he wasn’t as subtle as he thought.
he’s so fucking cute.
you finally relax your legs as you lower yourself onto his cock, not yet putting him inside you but sliding him in between your soft pussy lips. your hips stutter as you rub yourself on him, your clit catching onto the tip of his cock deliciously, “fuck toru” you sigh, finally getting attention where you’ve been craving it the most, “feels good baby—your cock feels s’good rubbing on my pussy”
you have no idea what your words do to him, you’re just thinking out loud but your dirty talk along with your wet cunt finally on him is getting him more riled up than before.
“you’re so wet—are–do you always get this wet?” he asks, his mouth is trying to keep up with his brain that’s running a mile a minute.
“only when i think of you…” you admit shyly. the thought of him knowing that you think of him when you touch yourself makes your cheeks hot despite the position the two of you are currently in.
“my goodness,” he whispers, the air leaving his lungs in heaps. he grips your ass desperately as you continue to grind your leaky center against his, leaving it nice and slick.
“toru,” you start, “i’m gonna put it in now—slowly.”
he’s less shy than he was before, still nervous, but he’s able to use his words better now. “o-okay, slowly” he repeats after you as his tip catches on your entrance. you use one hand to guide his heavy shaft as you use the other to steady yourself on his shoulder as you push the tip inside. “mm, fuck fuck toru—” it’s just the tip but, “it’s big, big stretch” you gasp loudly as he stretches out your virgin cunt. you’re so wet, and so is he thanks to you, it makes it easy for the rest of him to slip in, despite the harsh sting you feel as he molds you to his shape. your nails dig into his shoulders harshly as the two of you wait until you’re ready to move. satoru is glad you sucked his dick before you fucked him because he would’ve busted a nut as soon as your sweet cunt enveloped his tip.
you relax around him as you test the waters, hands shaking as you begin to fuck him. “pretty girl, you feel so good” satoru moans shamelessly. he pulls you in impossibly closer with a light grip on your ass as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips to his in a desperate makeout. you run your tongue over his before sucking it into your mouth gently with a moan.
you haven’t found your rhythm yet, as you have no idea how to bounce on his cock properly, you settle for grinding your hips into his. your sensual grinds make your clit press into the white pubic hair on his mound and the friction is to die for. you want to make him feel good, you need to. you have no idea how he wants to be fucked, so what better way to find out than to ask?
“t-toru,” you whine, “help me” you peer at him with watery eyes.
he gives your ass a good squeeze before placing his hands under your plump thighs, shoving his fingers under your cute socks that he’s so obsessed with. he steadies himself under you as he lifts you slightly with your help before guiding you back down his cock. the action presses his long cock right against your g-spot, making you clench around him tightly. “ooo, shit!” you squeeze your eyes shut as your back arches, pushing your plump chest into his.
“mhm, like this, baby” he’s pictured this so many times, pictured how he’s wanted you to ride his cock or how he wanted to fuck you into the mattress. maybe next round you’ll let him. you learn quickly, riding him at an easy pace as he continues to guide you, “there we go.” he’s whispering praise and sweet nothings into your ear confidently as you give your all to bring the two of you to an orgasm.
your tits are right in his face as you guide your hands to his head, running your fingers through his white hair. he takes this opportunity to shove his handsome face into your chest, taking one of your hardened brown buds into his mouth, sucking gently. “ooohh, feels good! ngh—”
you speed up your pace feeling your orgasm approaching. he’s not far off either, you can feel him twitching inside you sporadically, feining for another release. “doin’ so good,” satoru mumbles around your breast that’s in his mouth peering up at you through foggy and crooked frames, “gonna make me cum again.”
you tug on his hair harshly as you impale your pussy with satoru's cock, “cum for meee! i’m gonna cum” you whine with tears of pleasure pouring out of your eyes. he releases your bud in favor of sucking a dark purple hickey onto the side of your neck, biting gently as his eyes roll into the back of his head.
the sound of you begging for his cum is the final nail in the coffin—”ohh fuck, m’cumming!” is the only warning he can get out as he releases his seed deep inside your cavern with a long groan into your neck.
as he cums, your bounces gradually turn into sensual grinds, once again pressing your sensitive bud against his coarse pubic hair. the friction sends you straight to heaven and your hips stutter before stilling as your release washes over you. you moan loudly, completely forgetting about the movie and the roommates that also occupy the dorm.
for a few minutes, the two of you revel in the loss of your virginities and the high of your orgasms. as you come down from cloud nine, all the embarrassing stuff that you said suddenly comes back to you as you shyly nuzzle your face into his neck. he seems to be in the same predicament as you peer up at him from your safe space that’s his neck only to find his cheeks are as red as a tomato. despite his averting gaze, his big hands continue to roam and caress your soft body, mainly focusing on your ass and thighs.
you kiss him softly, holding his face in your delicate hands as you grin happily. you’re both shy and meek even after fucking each other into oblivion but so relieved to finally belong to each other completely. you’re learning a lot about yourself tonight, like how high your libido actually is. you thought you got yourself off a lot before but now how are you going to going to go a single day without fucking satoru? even now as he’s rubbing all over you, although trying his hardest to be soothing, it’s just making you needy all over again. you lift yourself off of his cock gently making him let out a huff of air at the sensitivity.
the redness in his cheeks has subsided to a light pink as he looks you in your eyes. “t-that was great,” he starts gently as his fingertips trace shapes into your skin, “you did so good, pretty.” the nickname rolling off his tongue easily now after your endeavors.
you laugh shyly, “you too—really.” you’re already having flash backs of how he guided you up and down his girthy cock. you settle into the bed, cuddling into his side once more as you try to ignore the throbbing in your cunt. you don’t want to get too greedy already, you think as you squeeze your thighs together in want.
unbeknownst to you, satoru is having the same dilemma, cock twitching under the blanket as his gaze sweeps over your thoroughly loved body and he notices you rubbing your thighs together, way past being shy, satoru takes the initiative. he leans his face down next to your ear before purring softly “d’you wanna do it again…?”
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*
in two other separate rooms of the shared dorm, kento and suguru lie breathless with still hard cocks in their hands and soiled bottoms. god they needed to get girlfriends.
love you shawties, i’ll try to write more. seriously this time! hehe
description ᯓ★: you and eren run a podcast mixing true crime breakdowns and celebrity drama. tonight’s episode is the heart rate challenge with mr bear. you tease him on camera in cute outfits and lingerie, making his monitor spike while chat goes wild. eren stays chill and quiet—only asking short questions—but once the recording pauses, he can’t hold back.
the chat blew up. ᯓ★
messages flying so fast you had to squint at the screen, eyes darting left to right trying to catch even half of them before they scrolled away.
“hi peaches!” you smiled big at the camera, one hand instinctively coming up to cover your chest a little, tugging your low-cut tank up just a bit like you always did when the ring light made everything feel extra exposed. “today we’re doing the heart rate challenge with mr bear.”
eren walked into the bedroom right on cue, that cute plush bear mask already on—big round ears flopping slightly, black button eyes staring blankly ahead. his fitted black shirt clung tight to his torso, the soft, deep outline of his abs visible every time he breathed or shifted, fabric stretching just enough to show the hard lines underneath.
gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, waistband of his black calvin klein boxers peeking out teasingly, and the long, soft outline of him pressed clearly against the thin material—thick, heavy, shifting with each step he took toward you.
the chat lost their minds instantly.
@ilovecrime: MR BEAR OMFGGG
@benthat: guysss have sum decorum
@hannaxove: whew my heart rate is at 280
you laughed, cheeks heating up as you glanced at eren standing there, one hand casually scratching the back of his neck under the mask straps, the other holding the heart rate monitor strap like he was already bored with the whole thing.
“see?” you said to the camera, gesturing at him with both hands. “this is why i said keep the mask on. y’all can’t handle all this.”
eren tilted his head slowly—then walked closer without a word, dropping into the chair beside yours. he leaned back, legs spreading wide, arms crossing over his chest so the shirt pulled even tighter across his pecs and abs. the mask made him look ridiculous and hot at the same time, fluffy bear ears flopping every time he moved.
you reached over and adjusted the mic in front of him, your fingers brushing his arm—warm skin, hard muscle, the faint flex under your touch making your pulse jump just a little. “okay peaches, i bought some sexy costumes and lingerie, and we’re gonna see if my boyfriend really likes me.”
you leaned into the camera with a wicked little grin. “okay guys watch mr. bear while i go change!”
you leaned up from your squat, the movement slow and deliberate, your shorts riding up high on your thighs as your curves swayed with each step toward the closet. the fabric hugged your ass perfectly, the hem barely covering anything, and you felt eren’s eyes on you the whole way—even through the mask.
eren just looked at the camera, head tilted slightly, voice low and muffled but still that deep, lazy tone that always made chat go feral.
“she’s gonna be gone for a while.”
the chat typed crazy. eren could only laugh. though he acted like it was so boring.
@chyboylove: GONE FOR A WHILE??? SIR WHAT
@sesomesseed: the way he said that… i’m pregnant
@atqueu: mr bear chilling like he knows what’s coming
@lyzzabeth: those sweatpants doing god’s work rn
@wyvvsa man: heart rate spiking and she ain’t even back yet 😭
you swayed out the closet, in the pink lingerie—thin satin straps digging into your shoulders, the cups barely holding you in, lace edges fluttering against your skin with every step. your curls were pinned up high in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing your face and neck, glossy lips catching the ring light as you smiled.
your hands came up to cup your tits, pushing them together just enough to tease the camera, thumbs brushing the hard peaks through the fabric.
“guysss—do we like?”
the chat exploded—messages stacking so fast the screen looked like static, hearts, fires, all caps, crying emojis, begging for more.
eren’s heart monitor started beeping nonstop—fast, erratic, climbing higher with every second he stared at you. “wait—” he jumped to stand over you, body blocking the camera angle, shoulders squared like he was trying to hide you from view. his hands came up quick, one on your waist, the other hovering near your chest like he wanted to cover you but didn’t quite dare touch yet.
you laughed bright and breathy. hands still on your tits, looking up at him through your lashes. “i guess it’s too much—”
eren’s voice came out low, rough, muffled through the bear mask but thick with something darker.
“way too much.”
the chat kept going insane.
“hurry and change.” he added, voice low and clipped, like he was trying to keep it together but failing.
you pouted, lips pushing out in that way you knew always got to him. “okay.”
you walked to the closet and he followed—close. too close. his body shadowing yours, chest almost brushing your back, not giving you much room at all until you disappeared from the camera’s view around the corner. the chat didn’t miss it.
@hahhna56: HE FOLLOWED HER???
@jullieeec: protctive mode on 🐻🐻
@iseryuu: he looked MAD mad 🤣
@vixkeyc: mr bear not playinnnng
then he went back to sit down, legs spread wide, hands crossed lazy over his chest. he didn’t say anything to the chat. didn’t even glance at the screen. he was more upset that they even got to see you like that, half-exposed, teasing, his.
his jaw ticked under the mask, shoulders tense, eyes low and dark behind the holes, staring at the doorway where you’d disappeared like he was counting the seconds.
the chat kept going, spamming question marks, hearts, “mr bear mad??” “hes jealous fr” but he ignored it all. just sat there, silent, waiting.
after a few more minutes you came back out, with a bunny costume. soft white bodysuit hugging every curve, high-cut legs showing off your thighs, fluffy little tail at the back bouncing with each step. your curls were down now, falling wild and full around your shoulders, the bunny ears sat cute right on top pink satin lining the insides, flopping just a little when you tilted your head.
eren leaned up in his chair, slow and deliberate. his heart monitor beeped—once, twice, then fast and steady, climbing like it had a mind of its own.
“cute.”
his voice came out rougher than usual, muffled by the mask but thick with something darker. he didn’t move at first. just watched you, eyes dragging down the bodysuit, lingering on the way it stretched over your tits, the way the tail swayed when you shifted your hips.
@staceue: BUNNY PEACH??? Im inlve
@lovemewhre: omg..
@bleen: urr so pretty
@podwife: mr bear cant take nomo
you laughed softly, walking closer to the camera, turning a little so they could see the tail. “what do we think, peaches? bunny enough for y’all?”
eren didn’t wait for the chat to answer. he reached over and hit pause—red light off—without a word.
the room went quiet except for the faint beep of his monitor still climbing.
he stood up slow, stepping right up to you, towering, bear ears flopping forward as he looked down. the mask made his face unreadable except for those dark eyes behind the holes—locked on you, intense, almost too still.
“why you playin’?” he asked, voice low and rough, muffled through the plush but heavy enough to make your stomach flip.
you pouted, looking up at him, hands still resting light on your hips, bunny ears tilting with the motion. “what are you talking about—and why would you end it… it was getting good.”
eren didn’t answer right away. he stepped even closer, chest brushing yours, one hand coming up to grip your chin gently but firm—tilting your head higher so you had to meet his gaze through the mask.
“y’ know what i’m talking about,” he said, thumb brushing slow over your bottom lip, pressing just enough to part it slightly. “comin’ out here half naked, for a fuck ass podcast?”
his voice was low, rough around the edges, muffled by the bear mask but thick with that mix of frustration and want he only let slip when it was just you two. the plush ears flopped forward as he leaned in closer, towering over you, chest almost brushing yours. his other hand stayed firm on your hip, fingers digging in through the thin satin of the bodysuit, holding you right where he wanted you.
you blinked up at him, lips still tingling from his thumb, pout deepening even though heat was already pooling low in your belly. “it’s the heart rate challenge,” you whispered, voice soft and innocent like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. “we gotta give the peaches what they want.”
eren’s eyes narrowed behind the mask holes—dark, burning. “they want you like this?” his thumb slid along your lip again, slower this time, then down your chin, tracing the line of your throat until his whole hand wrapped loosely around it—squeezing, holding. “in this little pink thing, tits spilling out, ass bouncing for the camera?”
you swallowed under his palm, thighs pressing together instinctively. “maybe.”
he let out a low huff—half laugh, his grip tightening just a fraction on your neck. “dont piss me off—peach”
his hand on your hip slid lower, cupping your ass through the bodysuit, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. the fluffy tail got squished against his palm as he pulled you flush to him, letting you feel exactly how hard he was—thick, throbbing against your stomach through the sweatpants.
“you think i’m gonna sit here and watch you tease me for strangers?” he murmured, thumb stroking the side of your throat now, slow and deliberate. “while you play dumb?”
your breath hitched, nipples hard against the satin, aching from the way the fabric rubbed every time you moved. “it’s just content—”
“fuck content,” he cut in, voice dropping even lower, rougher. he leaned down until the bear nose almost touched yours, eyes locked on yours through the mask.
he pulled the mask off in one rough tug, tossing it to the floor where it landed with a soft thud among scattered notes and cables. his hair was messy—manbun half-undone, dark strands falling loose around his face, sweat already beading at his temples from holding back all episode. his jaw was tight, lips parted slightly, breathing heavy like he’d been fighting himself the whole time you were on camera.
he didn’t give you time to react.
his hands were on your hips in the next breath, yanking you flush against him so hard your chest bumped his. you felt every inch of him—thick, hard, straining against the sweatpants, pressing right into your stomach through the thin pink satin.
“you think you can come out here like this?” he rasped, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw, thumb digging into your cheek just enough to tilt your face higher. “teasing me. teasing them?”
his voice was low, wrecked, barely controlled—every word rough like gravel dragged over silk. he eased you to the floor slow, deliberate, guiding you down until your knees hit the hardwood with a soft thud.
his hand stayed firm on your jaw, holding you right there, looking up at him. his thick hard bulge hung heavy over your head through the gray sweatpants, the outline clear and straining, tip already damp enough to darken a small spot at the front.
your lashes fluttered, eyes wide and glassy as you stared up at him—breath coming quick and shallow, chest rising fast under the thin pink satin. the bunny ears tilted slightly with the movement, curls spilling loose.
“you wanna play so bad,” he looked down, hair falling forward over his forehead in dark messy strands, manbun barely holding on. his eyes were dark, pupils blown, locked on yours like nothing else existed. “play with my dick.”
you swallowed hard, throat working under his palm. your hands came up slow and shaky but eager.
your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweats. you tugged them down just enough, his cock springing free. thick, flushed, veined, the head glistening with precum that beaded at the slit and dripped slow down the base.
he groaned low when the cool air hit him, hips twitching forward instinctively. “that’s it,” he breathed, thumb stroking your bottom lip again, parting it. “open for me.”
you did. lips parting soft and wet, tongue flicking out to taste the salty bead at his tip. he hissed through his teeth, hand on your jaw tightening just a fraction. not forcing, just guiding.
you took him in slow, lips stretching around the thick head, tongue swirling under the ridge before sliding down further. he was heavy on your tongue, hot, filling your mouth until your cheeks hollowed.
you moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk forward, pushing a little deeper.
“fuck—good girl,” he rasped, free hand sliding into your curls, fingers tangling gently but firm, holding you steady. “just like that… take me.”
you bobbed slow at first, lips gliding up and down, tongue pressing flat along the underside, tasting every inch.
your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into the muscle as you worked him deeper, throat relaxing to take more. spit slicked your lips, dripping down his dick, pooling at the base where his sweats were still bunched.
his breathing turned ragged. chest heaving, abs flexing under the tight shirt every time you swallowed around him. “look at me,” he groaned, tugging your curls lightly to tilt your head back so he could see your face. eyes watery, lashes clumped, lips stretched wide around him.
you looked up. eyes locked on his through the haze, and he cursed low, hips stuttering forward once.
“fuck—look at you.” he groaned, voice wrecked and raw. he gripped your face with both hands now, fingers digging into your cheeks just enough to hold you steady, thumbs pressing at the corners of your mouth to keep your lips open wide.
then he face fucked you. slow at first, deliberate, letting you feel the thick drag of him over your tongue, then harder, deeper, hips snapping forward until the head bumped the back of your throat.
you placed your hands on his thighs, trying to make room, space. palms flat against the hard muscle, pushing weakly because it was too much, too full, spit already dripping down your chin and pooling at the corners of your lips.
but he just went harder. groaning deep every time your throat fluttered around him, every time your nails dug into his skin like you were begging him to stop and keep going at the same time.
“take it,” he rasped, voice trembling with restraint he was quickly losing. “take all of it—fuck—good girl, just like that.”
tears pricked at your lash line from the stretch, the burn, the way he filled your mouth so completely you could barely breathe between thrusts. your tongue pressed flat along the underside instinctively, swirling when he pulled back, sucking hard when he pushed in.
spit bubbled at the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin, onto your chest, soaking the pink satin until it clung wet and transparent to your tits.
his abs flexed hard with every roll of his hips, the blackwork sleeve shifting over muscle as his grip on your face tightened. he watched you the whole time—eyes dark, blown, taking in every tear that slipped free, every flutter of your lashes, every muffled whimper that vibrated around his cock.
“your so fucking pretty,” he breathed, voice cracking on the last word. “crying, and choking on my dick— ‘cause you wanted to play.”
he thrust deeper twice. holding himself there until your throat spasmed around him, until your nails bit harder into his thighs. then he pulled back slow, letting you gasp for air, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening tip.
you coughed once soft, wet. then looked up at him again, eyes glassy, lips puffy and red.
he groaned at the sight, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek before smearing it across your bottom lip.
“open,” he ordered, voice rough.
you did.
mouth falling open obediently, tongue out flat.
he stroked himself once. twice, fast and slick with your spit—then pushed back in, slower this time, letting you take him all the way until your nose brushed the soft skin of his lower stomach.
“hold it,” he rasped. “hold me deep.”
you did—throat working around him, eyes watering, hands gripping his thighs for balance. he stayed buried, hips still, just feeling you flutter and choke around him while he stared down at you like you were everything.
“good girl,” he whispered, voice trembling now. “my good fucking slut.”
he pulled out slow. inch by inch, until just the head rested on your tongue. then he came—hard, thick spurts hitting the back of your throat, filling your mouth until it overflowed, dripping down your chin and onto your tits.
you swallowed what you could, moaning soft at the taste, the feel of him pulsing on your tongue. when he finally finished, he stroked the head against your lips, smearing the last drops across them like gloss.
he picked you up easy, hands under your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing and sitting you on the edge of the bed. his eyes laid low on you. dark, heavy-lidded, still blown from coming, taking in every moment.
your lips glistening with his nut, chin wet, chest heaving under the pink satin, nipples hard and poking through the thin fabric, thighs pressed together like you were trying to hide how soaked you were.
cum dripped slow from the corner of your mouth, a thick bead sliding down your chin before you licked it away instinctively.
eren groaned low in his throat at the sight, hand wrapping around his dick again. still half-hard, slick with spit and his own cum. stroking himself slow, base to tip, like he was already thinking about going again.
“take that shit off,” he said, voice rough and low, barely above a whisper but heavy with command. his thumb swiped over the head of his dick, spreading the leftover cum, eyes never leaving your face. “all of it. now.”
you bit your lip. still tasting him. salty and thick. you reached up slow, fingers hooking the thin straps of the bodysuit. you peeled them down your shoulders, letting the satin slide off your tits first, nipples hardening instantly in the cool air, breasts spilling free as the fabric bunched at your waist.
eren’s eyes darkened, breath catching rough in his throat. he didn’t wait for you to finish shimmying it off completely. he leaned down fast, hands gripping the satin at your hips, and ripped the rest of it away in one sharp pull. the fabric tore with a loud, satisfying snap, pieces fluttering to the floor around your feet like confetti he couldn’t care less about.
“don’t piss me off even more peach.” his voice came out low but stern, edged with that tight control he was barely holding onto. his jaw clenched, hair falling forward over his forehead, eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing in the room.
you shivered, thighs pressing together instinctively, the torn lingerie scraps still clinging to your ankles. your breath came quicker now, chest rising and falling, nipples tight and aching from the sudden exposure and his stare.
“now lay down and hold your legs back.”
you didn’t hesitate. you scooted back on the bed until your shoulders hit the sheets, then lifted your legs slow. knees bending toward your chest, thighs spreading wide, ankles hooking behind your head like he asked.
the position folded you open completely pussy exposed, slick folds glistening under the low lamp light, clit swollen and peeking out, entrance fluttering slightly from how turned on you already were.
eren sucked at his lip hard, eyes dropping straight to where you were laid bare for him. his dick hardened instantly, thickening and lifting against his thigh, the head already flushed dark and leaking a thin bead of pre-cum that glistened at the slit.
he didn’t give you time to breathe. he pushed his tip in. fat head parting your slick entrance in one slow, firm nudge and rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb at the same time. the dual sensation hit you like a shock, making you jolt hard, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat, walls clenching tight around just the tip.
“fuuck—” he groaned, head tilted watching every wince and twitch of you. his eyes were glued to the sight. your pussy stretched around the head of him, slick coating his tip, your clit throbbing under his thumb with every pass.
he teased at your entrance, pulling back slow until just the tip rested inside, then pushing in again shallow and deliberate. while his thumb kept rubbing your clit. softly, then hard. soft circles turning into firm presses, fast flicks that made your hips jerk and your toes curl behind your head.
your hands gripped your thighs tighter, nails digging into soft skin to hold yourself open for him. “eren—please.”
he ignored you, kept teasing and rubbing your clit. softly, then hard. while his tip peeked through your entrance again and again, dipping in just enough to make you clench and leak more slick, then pulling out to watch the way your pussy fluttered and tried to pull him back in. his breathing grew heavier, chest rising faster under the tight shirt, abs flexing with every controlled roll of his hips.
“nah,” he pushed his dick in a little more before pulling back out to just the tip. “lemme play with you now”
“play with this pussy and see how you feel.”
his thumb pressed harder on your clit, rubbing in tight fast circles that made your hips jerk up off the sheets. the pad of his finger was rough from calluses, dragging delicious friction over the swollen bud every time he flicked it. he watched your face the whole time—eyes dark and focused, lips parted slightly, breathing ragged like he was savoring every little reaction you gave him.
you whimpered, thighs trembling in your own grip, ankles locked tight behind your head. every shallow dip of his tip stretched you just enough to make your walls flutter desperately, slick dripping down to coat his shaft and pool warm on the sheets. the wet sounds were obscene—soft squelches every time he teased in and out, your arousal coating him shiny and thick.
“look at that,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked. “tell me how bad you want it—show me”
you could cry, you wanted it bad. the ache was deep, throbbing, your pussy clenching around nothing every time he dipped just the head in and pulled out again. your hips rolled up instinctively, trying to chase more, but he held you pinned, controlling every inch.
you reached down quick, fingers wrapping around his wet dick, trying to guide him deeper inside you. desperate, needy, done waiting.
eren slapped your clit—sharp, quick, the wet smack echoing in the quiet room. the sting bloomed fast, hot and bright, making your whole body jolt, a high gasp ripping from your throat. your walls clenched hard around nothing, more slick gushing out, dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets even more.
“you don’t get to take shit yet.” he said, voice flat but thick with hunger.
your hand flew back to your thigh, gripping tighter, nails biting into your own skin as you fought to stay still. tears pricked your eyes—not from pain, from how badly you needed him, how empty you felt every time he pulled back.
he rubbed the head of his dick through your folds again slow and deliberate. coating himself in your slick, letting the fat tip bump your clit with every pass. you jolted again, whimpering, hips twitching up toward him.
“eren—please—”
he kept the shallow thrusts—tip in, tip out—while his thumb worked your clit in tight fast circles. your moans turned higher, breathier, thighs trembling in your own grip, body shaking as the pleasure built sharp and fast. your walls fluttered hard, clenching around air, chasing the orgasm that was so close you could taste it.
“close?” he asked, voice low and calm, almost bored. he felt it. the way you tightened, the way your hips bucked, the way your breathing turned into quick little pants.
you nodded frantically, curls sticking to your wet cheeks. “yes—please—don’t stop—”
he watched you for a second longer—eyes dark, unreadable—then pulled out completely. tip popping free with a wet sound, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. his thumb left your clit right as the coil snapped tightest, stealing the orgasm before it could break.
you whined loud, hips jerking uselessly, tears spilling over your lashes. “eren—”
“nah,” he said simply, stroking himself slow, watching your pussy flutter and leak in protest. “not yet.”
he leaned down, kissed your inner thigh once—soft, almost sweet—then rubbed the head of his dick through your folds again, teasing your entrance without entering.
“you teased me all episode,” he murmured, voice low and even. “now you wait.”
you sobbed soft, thighs shaking harder, body still right on the edge. he kept teasing. tip nudging your clit, sliding through your slick, dipping in just the head before pulling out again. keeping you hovering, never letting you fall.
“eren—please—”
he slapped your clit again—lighter this time, but enough to make you jolt and whimper.
“be quiet,” he said, calm. “you come when i say.”
he pushed in a little deeper—halfway now—holding there so you felt the stretch, then pulled back to just the tip again. his thumb brushed your clit once—soft, teasing—then stopped.
you cried out, hips bucking, begging without words.
he watched you shake, watched your pussy clench and leak, watched the tears slip down your cheeks.
then he leaned over you fully, chest pressing down on your folded legs, pinning your thighs harder against the bed until your knees nearly touched your shoulders. the angle forced your hips to tilt up, pussy spread even wider, entrance gaping slightly from the teasing.
he thrust in slow deeper, three-quarters. holding again, letting you feel the thick stretch, the way your walls hugged him tight.
“tell me you’re mine,” he said, voice low and steady.
“i’m yours,” you gasped, voice cracking. “please—”
he thrust deep all at once—burying himself to the balls. you screamed soft, walls clenching hard around him.
he fucked you hard—leaning over you, weight pressing your thighs down flat to the bed, hips snapping forward in deep, punishing strokes. the bed creaked loud, headboard tapping the wall with every thrust. his dick dragged along your walls, hitting that spot deep inside over and over, making your toes curl and your eyes roll to the stars.
cream built up thick and white around his dick. your arousal mixing with his pre-cum, frothing at the base every time he bottomed out, coating his length shiny and sticky.
the wet sounds grew louder, sloppy, and filthy. every pull-out leaving strings of cream stretching between your pussy and his cock.
you moaned brokenly, nails scraping down his arms, body shaking under him. “eren—close—please—”
he felt it—the way you tightened, the way your hips bucked, the way your breathing turned into quick little pants.
he pulled out completely. tip popping free with a wet sound, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, orgasm stolen again right at the edge.
you sobbed loud, hips jerking uselessly, tears streaming down your cheeks. “eren—oh my go—”
he stroked himself slow, watching your pussy flutter and gape, cream dripping from your entrance in thick strings.
“clean my dick.” he said, voice low and calm.
you scrambled up quick still shaky and onto your knees in front of him. he stood at the edge of the bed, dick glistening with your cream and his pre-cum, thick and throbbing.
you took him in slow, lips stretching wide around the head, tongue swirling to taste the mix of both of you. the flavor was heady. salty, sweet and musky—coating your tongue thick as you sucked him deeper. your hands gripped his thighs for balance, nails digging in as you bobbed, cheeks hollowing, throat relaxing to take him all the way.
eren groaned low, hand sliding into your curls, guiding you slow but firm. “that’s it—get all that cream off my shit.”
you moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk forward once. spit and cream dripped down your chin, pooling on your chest as you worked him tongue pressing flat along the underside, sucking hard on the upstroke, swirling around the head on every pull-back.
he watched you eyes dark, breathing heavy. then he pulled out slow, stroking himself in front of your open mouth.
“tongue out.”
you did—tongue flat, mouth open wide.
he came again—thick ropes hitting your tongue, filling your mouth, spilling over your lips and dripping down your chin onto your tits. you swallowed what landed on your tongue, moaning soft at the taste, then licked him clean and slow, thorough. eyes locked on his the whole time.
he stroked your cheek with his thumb, smearing the mess across your skin before leaning down to kiss you. deep, messy, tasting himself on your tongue.
“good girl,” he murmured against your lips. “show me that pussy again.”
you gently got up, your legs weak and shaky from everything, knees wobbling as you pushed yourself off the floor. you climbed onto the bed slow, body still buzzing, then turned around so your back was to him.
you dropped forward. face pressing soft into the comforter, back arching deep, ass lifting high in his face.
your curls spilled wild across the sheets, a few strands sticking to your damp neck and cheeks. you glanced back over your shoulder, eyes hazy and half-lidded, full lips parted on quick breaths so he could see your face teary, wrecked, needy. pressed into the soft fabric.
you reached back with one hand, fingers sliding down to spread your pussy with just two fingers—middle and ring, pulling your slick folds apart wide. your entrance fluttered open for him, still puffy and glossy, clit swollen and peeking out shiny and throbbing.
slick leaked slow from deep inside, clear trails running down your folds and pooling on the comforter below, the scent of you warm, musky, sweet. filling the air around him.
eren groaned, low and rough in his throat, like he loved doing this to you. making you cry, making you want his dick like a slut.
he loved every second of it—the way your thighs shook from holding the position, the way your hips twitched every time he denied you.
the way your pussy clenched and leaked like it was begging without words. his eyes stayed locked on where you held yourself open, watching every flutter, every drip, every small roll of your hips like he couldn’t look away even if he tried.
“tell me how—how much you want it—peach.” he stroked at his tip slow, thumb swiping over the slit, spreading the bead of pre-cum that leaked out until it glistened down his shaft.
his hair was a mess—manbun loose and wild, dark strands falling forward over his forehead, sticking slightly from sweat. his abs flexed hard with every breath, the tight black shirt pulling across his chest and shoulders as he stood there, towering, dick heavy and throbbing in his hand.
you whimpered, voice small and shaky, tears still wet on your cheeks. “please daddy—i’m sorry—i want it so bad—i’ll do any—anything please!”
“i want you to—nut in my pussy— i want you to fuck me—please!”
your fingers trembled as you kept yourself spread, entrance clenching visibly around nothing, more slick dripping out in slow, clear strings that stretched and broke when your hips jerked.
he groaned again, quieter this time, almost pained. his hand sped up on his dick. just a little, stroking firm from base to tip, eyes never leaving your pussy.
“keep it open,” he said, voice low and steady. “don’t move your fingers.”
he stepped closer, sweat pants wet from all your spit from sucking his dick. he smacked your ass, once, twice. til it bruised. the sharp cracks echoed, heat blooming fast across your skin, stinging bright and hot.
your cheeks jiggled with each hit, flesh turning deep red under his palm, the burn sinking deep and making your pussy clench harder around air. slick gushed out again, dripping faster, running down your thighs and soaking the sheets.
you gasped loud, hips bucking back instinctively, thighs shaking in your grip. tears pricked your eyes harder, lashes wet, but you kept your fingers pulling yourself open wider for him, nails biting into your own skin.
he rubbed the head of his dick against your entrance again slow and deliberate. coating himself in your slick, letting the fat tip bump your clit with every pass. you jolted again, whimpering, hips twitching up toward him.
“eren—please—”
he slapped your ass again. harder this time. making you cry out and clench so hard more slick spilled out, coating his tip shiny.
he pushed your head down with one hand, palm flat against the back of your skull, pressing your cheek into the comforter. his other hand yanked your curls back hard—fingers twisting tight at the roots—arching your neck up so you had to look at him over your shoulder. your scalp burned from the pull, tears pricking fresh at your lash line, but the sting only made everything else feel sharper, hotter.
before you could catch your breath, he pushed his dick inside your pussy all the way to the balls. one long, unrelenting thrust. thick dick stretching you wide, filling every inch until his hips slammed flush against your ass. the head kissed your cervix deep, the pressure intense and overwhelming, a dull ache blooming low in your belly that hurt so good it made your toes curl behind your head.
“eren—” your voice cracked, eyes rolling to the stars, lashes fluttering as the fullness hit you all at once. it was too much. your walls spasmed hard around him, fluttering wildly, trying to adjust to the sudden depth while slick leaked out around his base in messy, wet rivulets.
your fingers gripped the sheets tight, knuckles light, nails scraping the fabric as your body quivered under him—thighs shaking in your own hold, back arched deep, ass pressed high against his hips.
he stayed buried, completely still for a second. letting you feel every thick inch throbbing inside you, the way your pussy hugged him tight, the way his balls pressed hot against your clit. his breathing was heavy, ragged against your ear, chest rising fast where it pressed to your back.
“too much?” he rasped, voice low and rough, almost mocking but laced with hunger. he rolled his hips once slow and deep grinding the head against your cervix.
making you whimper and clench harder around him. fresh slick poured out, soaking his balls and dripping down your thighs in warm trails.
you sobbed soft, hips twitching, torn between pulling away from the deep pressure and pushing back for more. “eren—it hurts—”
he groaned low, hand tightening in your curls, keeping your head pulled back so he could see your face—eyes glassy and rolled, lips parted on shaky breaths, tears slipping down your cheeks.
“good,” he muttered. “take it.”
he started moving—slow at first, pulling out halfway before thrusting back in deep—then harder, faster, hips snapping forward with controlled force. the bed creaked under you both, headboard tapping the wall in rhythm with his thrusts. every slam pushed his tip right against your cervix, the ache blooming sharp and sweet, making your walls flutter and clench around him like they never wanted to let go.
slick and cream built up thick around his shaft, frothing white at the base every time he bottomed out, coating his dick shiny and sticky. the wet sounds grew louder—sloppy, filthy—every pull-out leaving strings of cream stretching between your pussy and his cock, snapping when he thrust back in.
your moans turned into broken sobs, body shaking, thighs burning from holding the position. your fingers dug harder into your own thighs, nails biting deep as you tried to stay open for him.
he leaned over you more, weight pressing your folded legs harder into the mattress, folding you tighter, deeper. his hand slid from your curls to your throat. not choking, just holding, thumb pressing under your jaw to keep your head tilted back so he could see every tear, every flutter of your lashes, every time your mouth fell open on his name.
“feel that?” he rasped, voice rough against your ear. “im giving you what you wanted—dick.”
you sobbed his name again, voice cracking, body trembling on the edge.
he fucked you harder—hips slamming, bed shaking—hand sliding down to rub your clit fast and rough, fingers slick with your cream.
“come,” he ordered, voice low and firm. “come—on my dick.”
you shattered—hard, sudden—walls pulsing tight around him, gushing slick as you cried his name loud enough the walls probably heard. he fucked you through it, thrusts turning erratic, then buried himself deep and came. hot, thick spurts filling you until it leaked out around him, dripping down your ass onto the sheets in warm, messy trails.
he held you there. still buried, still full, breathing heavy against your neck. kissed your shoulder, your neck—soft now, slow.
“i love you,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
you smiled, breathless, body still trembling. “i love you more.”
he pulled out slow, watching his cum leak out in thick trails down your thighs.
he eased your legs down gentle, one at a time, kissing the inside of each knee as he did. then he pulled you into his arms, tucking you against his chest.
the room stayed quiet.
the episode could wait.
you were his.
and he’d just reminded you—again.
i really enjoyed writing thiss i love eren so much !
when you’re on the phone with your homegirl and she ranting and raving about some guy. it’s been two whole days of hearing this shit and honestly you’re sick of it! so you tell her with all your chest that, “dick ain’t never been that good and find a new play thing by tonight.”
your boyfriend perks up from the his spot in the couch, head lifting and eyes locking on your form in the kitchen because, what? what’s never been huh???
onyankopon loves to prove a point. as you say your goodbyes with a relieved sigh clicking that beautiful red button, he appears behind you in slow strides. you turn with a smile, inspecting him in all his glory. dark hair cut low and crisp, black shirt clinging to every piece of muscle that he works hard for, and you see how hung he is in those sweats. you could almost shed a tear.
“hey gorgeous, what should we eat tonight? i’m feeling habachi lowkey, but you have any suggestions?”
“that’s the advice you give your friends?” his voice deep almost serious but the way his lip slightly curves lets you know he isn’t as broody as he looks. you can only scoff and cock a brow at him in disbelief. was he listening the whole time? not that you were quiet or anything but still!
“jeez you’re so nosy! but i told the girl 5 times that man was good for nothing and she keeps calling me about it!” you huff feeling your face get hot while you recall every section of your conversation.
he hums in response standing over you deep in thought. you’re confused by his response— or lack there of — but you say nothing, just leaned against the counter he’s got you backed against. the silence is becoming awkward so you try and switch the subject “soo, no dinner ideas?”
“it’s never been that good?” he repeats back to you, taking a step forward, and completely ignoring the question. you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. “you telling me, that in the two years we’ve been dating, the dick i give you ain’t ‘never been that good?” he ask you, arms uncrossing boxing you in between him and the marble top.
“turn around let me show you sum.” he says in your ear. you turn with hesitation, now standing back to chest and you feel him. pressing hard against your back pushes his hips into you. his hands leave the counter and find their way to your shorts pulling them down in one swift motion. you make a noise of surprise when the cool air hits your bare cunny, and you moan when he hits the side of your ass.
“open.” he demands before sticking two fingers in your mouth. you close your eyes and suck letting his fingers twist around in you mouth, massaging your tongue, lubricating his fingers. he pulls them out with a wet pop, before bringing them to your clit. he rubs tight circles all on the bud entranced with how your own natural slick starts to drip. he hasn’t even touched you for real. he teases your opening dragging his fingers to the hole and rubbing it. alternating between your two pleasure spots. you quiver and let out small whimpers, pushing back onto his hand.
“yan— need more,” you shudder feeling your clit jump when he makes contact again. “need you in me.” your pussy noise is lewd making a click click click everytime he plays with it.
“need my what in you? you seem to be enjoying yourself right now.” he states sending a quick slap to your labia. you squeal knees knocking trying to stop yourself from cumming. “you can’t be talking bout you need my dick in you? the dick that ain’t never been that good?” pop! he smacks you again make it harder to breathe. you’re dripping on his hand, his wrist, the floor, you don’t know how much more of this you can take.
“i— i wasn’t talking about you baby! i swear it! just please put it in me, m’beggin you!” your voice wavers letting him know you’re on the brink of tears. he’s satisfied, you hear him adjust behind you the rustling fabric him pulling down his sweats just enough to free that heavy, girthy, piece of—
onyankopon uses the slicked up hand to jerk himself a few times. before you could even thank him he shuts you by stuffing you full. you moan loud, instantly reaching behind you to push at his stomach. he lets you have your moment, but not for long. he grabs your arm and pushes into the small of your back forcing an arch.
“this dick ain’t that good, fuck you pushing me away for??” he teased in a strained voice. his thrust barely move letting you feel him in every crevice of your guts. his free hand holds your stomach and presses upwards like he’s trying to feel how deep he is. your pussy clenched immediately small splats of water putter down in the floor and you wail. “o—oh my fuckin’ god— baby!”
“cummin’ on this whack dick already? c’mon mama get it together.” he laughs at you condescendingly. “let me fuck my pussy right before you start doing allat.” and that he does. he reels back just to drop it in you. every stroke he delivered is heavy, he puts his whole body into it. you’re dumb on this dick, lightheaded from the way that fat tip taps your cervix.
you can’t even talk every noise is some fucked out ooh or an ahh. you rise to your tiptoes as a reflex trying to crawl away but he follows fucking you harder if even possible. his dick is soaked from you alone, every time he pulls out stringy white ropes connect him to you.
“can’t!” is all you muster using the free arm to push yourself upright off the counter. his free hand is in your neck immediately. not squeezing, just there. “you can.” his checks you. his words so confident it has you cumming again.
he sees the way your eyes scroll to the back of your skull and how you choke on your own moans, but he doesn’t stop. he won’t stop. “that’s right my baby, gimme that shit.” he grunts out. he’s using the counter as leverage, bouncing you between it and his own body.
“yan—“ you call through swollen lips.
“talk to me. tell me what i wanna hear.” he breathes keeping a hold on your throat but dropping your arm letting you brace yourself on the counter. all you can focus on is the in and out in and out in and out of him plunging into your tired pussy.
“i love you!” you cry.
“i know baby, i love you too, but that ain’t what im asking you for.” he can’t be serious. (he is!)
“f—UCK! it’s so good!” you wail, hands slapping the counter as you feel another pending orgasm. you feel him grinning again your cheek as he holds you.
“yeah? you think so? don’t lie to me ma.” he such a dick.
“m’not lyin’ yan— promise! fuck baby i can’t. n-not again.” you feel out of this universe. your body is light, every limb, every digit tingling. your stomach is burning heart is on fire. it’s so good.. it’s too good.
“you know the word baby tell me and i’ll stop.” he reminds you gently. from the way you clench down on him and rapidly shake your head he knows you’re not tapping out. he’s close he just wants you to say it one more time.
“tell me how this dick feel while you cum on it.”
“so good! s’good, sgood!” your words slur while you squirt. you have no control over your body, you slump against his chest shaking like a leaf while his chases his high using your cunt for his own greed. he cums deep with a moan, a real one at that. letting go of your neck and letting you fall gently onto the counter.
“y’good baby?” he ask, mood switching entirely. he rolls his eyes at your thumbs up telling you that you need to use your words, all while rubbing soothing circles onto the small of your back.
“my socks are wet.” you whine. his laughter causes friction which makes you clench and jump. “sorry sorry, ill fix it. and then we get habachi yeah?” he pulls out slowly trying not to stimulate you too much. if he didn’t just cum he knows his dick would be rock hard in a split second just watching his cum drip out your pussy in fucking slow motion. you feel him watching you so you bring a tired hand between your legs and cup your cunt, hiding it from him.
you crane your neck and shoot him a glare. he reaches for the paper towels but before he cleans you up he says.
“don’t tell yo friends no stupid shit like that, atleast not when i’m around.”
this stupid ass fuck ass app ain’t allowing me to make my blog cute i’m gonna quit fuck this >:/. i also went back and edited and it saved nothing so ignore the improper grammar i didn’t find
Your best friend calls, voice raw, and you realize he’s jerking off to you. The call spirals into a dirty, tense back-and-forth—him confessing all the nasty things he wants to do to you, you teasing between sweet and cruel, letting him see just enough to break him. He cums hard for you, then you make him listen while you play with yourself and orgasm. At the very end, you drop the sweetest bomb—and hang up, leaving him ruined, obsessed, and wanting more.
★2,827 words, old story, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), lots of dirty talk, masturbation, praise & a tiny bit of degradation, pet name/name calling (e.g, ma/mama, baby, sweetheart, honey¹, and slut¹), you're a little mean but he likes it, etc★
★18+ 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝑫𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕★
"Hello?" you call, picking up on the third ring. The room is quiet, the only light the coming from your amber lamp and the blue glow from your screen reflecting off your freshly done nails.
"H-hey," his voice scrapes out on the other end. It’s a wrecked sound—ragged, breathless, and vibrating with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.
Your brows pull tight, a slow worry already beginning to tug at your lips. "Are you okay? You sound... off."
You picture him for a second. Maybe he’s sweaty from a run, his chest heaving under a thin t-shirt. Or maybe he’s been lugging another Amazon dresser for that old lady down the block—always the good guy, always helping somebody. But as you listen to the heavy, rhythmic hitch in his breathing, you realize you’re wrong.
Right now, your best friend is laid out on his bed, the sheets a mess beneath him. His sweatpants and boxers are shoved down to his mid-thighs, his brown skin damp and glowing in the dim light of his room. His stomach is corded, muscles tightening and rippling with every long, desperate drag of his fist. His dick is a dark, heavy weight in his hand—slick, flushed, and dripping through his fingers.
He’s slowly but firmly stroking himself to the thought—and now the sweet, taunting sound—of your voice. Precum is already smeared over his knuckles, his thumb rolling lazy over his slit before pressing harder, coaxing a deep, guttural grunt from his throat.
"Mgh—nothing. Just... talk to me," he rasps, the friction of his hand audible through the speaker.
Your frown deepens, your heart is starting to race. "Why? What’s wrong, baby?"
The pet name slips out easy, unthinking. But the effect is immediate—he moans low, a broken, helpless sound, like you’d reached through the line and wrapped your hand around him yourself. He lives for when your voice turns soft like this, when you stop clowning him and get sweet. His fist moves quicker now, his hips pushing up into his palm, seeking the friction he can’t get enough of.
"I'm fine, I promise. Just keep talking. Please."
You fall quiet for a beat, leaning back against your headboard. You listen harder. You hear the wet, squelching sounds of his grip. The sharp little hitches of breath. The low, animalistic sound he makes when his fist squeezes tighter at the base.
And it clicks.
"...You’re jerking off."
Silence. Just the heavy, frantic sound of his breathing. Then a broken, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah. M'sorry. Can’t stop. Not when it’s you."
Your breath stutters, a prickle of heat blooming low in your belly. "You’re getting off to me? On the damn phone?"
"Every time," he admits, his voice rough and needy, but with a sudden edge of raw honesty. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel the weight of it. "Think about you all the time. That mouth. Those tits. The way your ass looks in those shorts." His pace picks up, the slick, lewd sounds of his hand working his dick filling the line. "Fuck, I’d do anything to see you ride me, just once. Just to see what that look on your face is like when I’m deep inside you."
You bite your lip, your pulse kicking against your throat. "That’s disgusting. Using my voice to get your nut. You’re nasty."
He groans like you’ve just blessed him with a touch. "Yeah, I know. But you're all I think about... you’re the only thing that gets me this hard."
"That's nice, honey. But you really shouldn't think of me like that... you know we're just friends," you murmur, your own hand sliding down to rest heavy on your thigh, the silk of your shorts cool against your palm.
"Don’t say that." His tone cuts sharp now, all the nice playfulness you've come to love is gone. "I’m not your fucking friend. You call me every day. You tell me you love me. I told you from the start—I’m not your friend." His breath hitches, the wet sounds of his fist speeding up, becoming more frantic. "You let me talk to you like this. And you let me—You let me be in your life knowing how I feel about you."
Your acrylic nail drags slow across your bottom lip. "Maybe. But I can't give you what you want, and I do love you, but don't throw it in my face," you drawl, a cruel, satisfied smirk pulling at your mouth.
"It’s kinda sad. Stroking your dick to a girl you’ll never have. We'll never be together. I’ll never let you fuck me. All you get is your hand."
He chokes out a moan, his hips snapping up into his fist with a raw, mechanical rhythm. "Yeah? Then give me something else. Show me. Facetime me, ma. Please."
You hesitate, the heat pooling heavy and agonizing between your thighs. Then, you click over.
The screen flickers to life. His camera is shaking, his breath filling the dark room. Sweat beads at his temples, his face flushed a deep, beautiful bronze, his lips parted. You know that tremor in the camera—it’s the force of his fist moving fast.
"Thank you," he exhales, the word almost reverent as he takes in your appearance.
"Hi, baby. Let me see your face," you don't ask it like a question. You order it.
He obeys instantly. His face fills the screen, his jaw tight and corded, his sharp fade a bit messy from the heat and the friction.
"You look good," you compliment, but the little laugh that follows makes it sting.
"Keep talking." He’s close, you can hear the strain in his voice. "Don't stop."
"I want to see."
He blinks, his eyes glazed and dark. "What?"
"I'm not repeating myself."
He lets out a breathless, desperate laugh, knowing your patience is thin. "Take your shirt off then. Let me see what I'm working for."
You narrow your eyes at the audacity, but you reach down and tug the pajama top off anyway. Your lace bra catches the light, the fabric straining against the fullness of your breasts. You don’t cover yourself; he’s seen you in less, and you want him to see exactly what he’s missing.
"Fuck," he groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain. He flips the camera.
Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry. His dick is a complete mess—his fist is working tight and fast, the dark, veined length of him glistening with pre-cum. White streaks of cum are already dried tacky over his thighs from previous rounds, and his stomach is flexing with every pull. His abs are glistening, his skin slick with sweat. His thumb smears a fresh bead of precum over the flushed, velvet head until it gleams, dripping onto his knuckles.
You bite your lip hard, heat twisting through your belly, your shorts already sticking damp between your thighs.
His moan rips through the line, a guttural, animal sound.
You whisper his name, your voice low, trembling, and possessive. "... I really want you in my mouth."
His head snaps back against the pillow, a broken curse ripped from his lungs. "If I had you here? I’d fuck that throat till you cried. Till you gagged around me and begged for air. I’d hold your head and make you take every fucking inch."
You hum, a low, taunting vibration. "You’re not tough enough for that."
That pulls a dark, dangerous laugh from him. His hand works faster, the veins straining down his forearm. "Say that shit again. I’d hold your face down and shove my dick so deep you’ll feel me in your chest. I’ll make you swallow every drop."
Your thighs squeeze together, wetness soaking through the crotch of your shorts. "All talk. You’d fold the second it touched my tongue."
He groans, deep and pained. "God, you drive me fucking insane." His breath stutters, then—"Take your bra off for me. Now."
You tilt your head, slow and teasing. "You want a show?"
"Take it off." His voice is rough, a plea threaded with a hard command.
You hook your fingers into the lace, slipping it down your shoulders, letting it fall. Your breasts sit full and heavy in the camera’s glow, your nipples tight and peaked in the cool air.
He chokes on his own breath. "God, look at you. Perfect. Fucking perfect."
Your fingers lift, tugging lightly at one nipple, rolling it between your fingers. "Like this, baby?"
His hand drags hard down his dick, the slick sound of it filling your ears. "Yeah—play with them for me. Pinch ‘em. Roll ‘em." His eyes roll back for a second, his mouth slack. "Fuck—I wanna cum all over those tits. Paint you, watch it drip down your stomach. You’d look so good messy with my cum."
You coo, your voice dirty and soft. "Yeah, baby? You wanna ruin me like that? Wanna cover me ‘cause I’m yours?" You pinch harder, moaning low. "Mmh, I’d let you do it however you want."
His hips jerk up into his fist, his cock flushed dark, thick, and veined. The head is shiny with slick, and your eyes stay locked on it, transfixed by the weight of him in his palm.
You whisper, almost reverent. "I can’t stop watching your hands. They're so big and veiny. So strong. You're twitching in your grip—look at you, baby. All that for me."
He groans raggedly, his fist slapping wetly down the length of his shaft. "All for you. Always for you." His voice cracks, desperate. "Squeeze 'em, touch your tits harder. Let me see you play with those pretty nipples."
You squeeze your breast, pinch your nipple harder, tugging it until you gasp, your eyes locked on his fist pumping. The sound of it—wet, obscene, skin slapping skin—is the only thing in the world.
"Fuck," he grits out, his voice frayed. "I’d drag you down and smear every drop over you. I wanna fill you up."
You laugh softly, mean but sweet. "Yeah? You’d mark me up? Cover me so everybody knows this pussy’s yours? Even though you’ll never get to fuck it?"
He groans, almost breaking under the weight of the tease. "Stop—don’t say that. I’d fuck you stupid, ma. I’d split you open. Make you cry for me."
You hum, stroking your breast with slow, deliberate circles. "I bet you would. But right now? All you’ve got is your hand. And me watching."
His grip tightens, his strokes becoming rough and fast. His stomach flexes, his breath tearing ragged from his chest. You lean close to the screen, your voice low and syrup-thick.
"Cum for me, baby."
He moans, a high, guttural sound.
"Yeah," you coax, squeeze your breast, shifting them again, "make a mess for me. Let me see you shoot it all over yourself. Come on. Show me how much you want me."
"Fuck—" His hips stutter up into his fist. Precum spills slick down his shaft, his knuckles shiny and wet.
"Begging you, sweetheart," you whisper, cruel and filthy. "Paint yourself for me. Cover that stomach, those big hands—show me what I do to you."
He chokes, his eyes squeezing shut, his jaw locked tight as his body begins to coil for the release. "M’close—oh fuck, I’m gonna—"
"Do it," you purr, sharp and commanding. "Cum for me, baby. Now."
His whole body jerks. A shout rips from his throat, raw and primal, as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his hand, his chest, dripping down his stomach in heavy white streaks. He pumps through the release, groaning brokenly, the cum splattering messy and hot across his skin.
You sigh, watching the way it looks against his skin, your voice turning sweet again. "That’s it. Good boy. Look at that dick, dripping for me. You made such a mess."
He’s panting, ruined, his hand still twitching around his softening length. "Fuck... fuck, I love you."
You tilt the camera, watching him still sprawled—sweat dripping, stomach streaked with cum, hand twitching.
"Mmh," you hum, soft and wicked, "look what you did, baby. Got me all wet."
His head snaps up, eyes heavy but blazing. "Show me."
You smirk, slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, dragging the damp fabric aside. Glossy, honey-thick strings pull as you spread yourself open, the phone angled just enough to flash him a glimpse of your soaking wet center. "See that? All for you."
He groans, his chest heaving. "Touch it for me. Play with yourself—please, ma."
Your laugh is low and cruel. "Not a chance. You already got your show."
His jaw tightens, his voice rough. "Don't play with me. You don't let me watch, I'll make you beg next time. I'll make you sorry."
You lean close to the screen, your smirk sharp and triumphant. "Try me. You don't scare me, baby. I said no."
His fist curls against his stomach, frustration pouring through the camera. "Then... at least—fuck—at least let me listen. Please. Let me hear it."
You bite your lip, dragging your fingers slow through your slickness, making yourself whimper. "You’re nasty."
"Yeah," he rasps, desperate. "For you. Only for you."
You sigh, soft and sweet, pressing two fingers against your clit until your hips twitch. "Fine. You can listen. But that’s it. Just your ears."
Your moans slip out, low and syrupy, filling the line. His breath shudders at the sound, ruined but hungry again. Your fingers circle your clit, the wet, squelching sounds of your own pleasure bleeding into the line. You bite your lip, letting a whimper slip, knowing he’s eating every sound alive.
"That’s it," he rasps, his voice still raw from cumming. "Rub that pretty pussy for me. God, I wanna be there so bad—wanna hold your thighs open and eat you till you’re crying."
Your head tips back, your breath shaky. "Mghn—You talk so nasty, baby."
"You don’t even know," he grits out. "I’d spread you out and pound that pussy till you scream. I’d fuck you till you smell like me. I'd never let you leave the bed."
A moan rips out of you, high and breathless. Your fingers circle faster, your hips rolling up off the bed as the tension coils.
"You like that?" he groans. "Knowing how bad I want you? Tell me you’ll give it up one day. Tell me I’ll get to fuck you for real."
Your laugh cuts sharp and shaky. "N-No, baby. You’ll never have me like that."
He curses, a guttural sound of frustration. "Fuck. You’re killing me, ma."
Your moans rise, sharper now, your body coiling tight. "Keep talking. Don't stop."
He obeys, his voice a low, gravelly anchor. "I’d hold your hips down. Spit in your mouth while I fuck you raw. Fill you up and make you go for hours."
That does it—your back arches, your thighs clenching tight as your orgasm rips through you. A sharp cry tears from your throat, your fingers working frantically over your clit as waves of pleasure slam through your body. You gasp his name, shuddering and trembling, your juices dripping messy against your hand.
He groans raggedly, listening to the sound of your break like it’s gospel. "That’s it—fuck, that’s it. Cum for me. Good girl. Good fucking girl."
You collapse back, chest heaving, sweat dampening your skin. You let out a low, satisfied hum. "Oh, shit... see what you did? You made me cum, handsome."
His breath hitches on the other end, broken and reverent. "...I’d do anything to see that."
Your breathing slows, your chest still rising and falling heavy. Your fingers slip from your soaked folds, leaving a wet sheen on your thighs. The line is quiet except for the sound of you both catching your breath.
He’s the first to break it, his voice ragged. "Man... I swear, one day—"
You cut him off with a sweet, dismissive little laugh, curling back into your pillow and pulling the covers up. "Shh. Don’t start again."
The silence stretches, thick and heavy with the things he wants to say. You can feel the ache in his voice, how close he is to spilling confessions you aren't ready to hear. So you give him something else. Something cruel, but honest.
"Thank you," you murmur, soft and sweet. Almost tender. "I love you so much, baby."
The phone goes quiet. You can picture him—eyes wide, lips parted, his heart clenching around those words. You know exactly what you’ve done to him.
You smile to yourself, curling the blanket over your bare chest. "Good night."
And you hang up before he can even find his voice to answer.
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