May 10
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Bunmaxing
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A Couple That Goes Beyond the Boundaries of Cuteness
connie and her ugly ass brother that i hate
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🍒 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🍒⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐠! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠— 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
𝐜𝐰: 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲), 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐣𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐚
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
you’d been pushing yourself too much lately—classes, exams, and squeezing in time to braid hair for extra money. everybody on campus seemed to be letting loose early for spring break, but you were still up at night, hands cramping from parting and braiding hair until your eyes blurred.
when the last girl left your dorm room with fresh knotless braids and cash in hand, you just sat on the bed for a minute, staring at your phone. spring break. freedom. everybody else had their fun lined up and had upcoming beach trips, parties, smoke sessions planned.
you’d never touched anything. never smoked, never drank. your mom’s voice always in the back of your head telling you to keep your head straight. but now? the thought of just letting go for once? it didn’t sound so bad.
your thumb hovered over your messages for a while. you thought about who you could even ask. who did you know that’d actually respond without making it weird?
and then you thought of him.
connie springer. everybody knew him. not just because he was always posted outside the student center in some jordan fit with his chains glinting every time it hit the sun, but because if anybody wanted to smoke, connie was the one they hit.
you clicked over to his instagram. you followed him, but never actually talked. he posted pics like he lived in his own music video—car shots, money fans, flicks with his boys.
your fingers trembled a little before you typed.
hey do you sell?
you hesitated for about three seconds before pressing send.
the reply came fast.
damn ma, you finally textin me? 👀
what u need?
you bit your lip, typing slow.
um just weed. i’ve never tried it before tho.
a bubble popped up right away.
oh so u hittin me up for your first time?
i feel special.
you rolled your eyes even though your cheeks felt hot.
ur literally the only person i know who sells.
nah don’t play me like that
you lowkey been tryna text me, huh
connie. please. 🧍🏽♀️
relax, i’m just messin wit you
how much you want?
you hesitated again.
i don’t know… like, enough for just me?
another quick reply.
cute.
i’ll put you together somethin light.
but if it’s your first time, u gotta let me pull up n show you how. can’t have you tweakin by yourself.
you stared at the screen.
you don’t have to.
nah what kinda plug would i be if i left you hangin?
plus, i been waitin on u to hit me up.
your chest felt tight, like he could see straight through your nerves.
i guess that’s fine.
bet. send the addy.
you cleaned your room without even meaning to, folding the throw blanket on your bed twice over and spraying your perfume around like it’d cover the nerves sitting in your chest.
when the knock finally came, your stomach dropped.
you opened the door and there he was—hoodie half zipped over a white tee, sweatpants, and his signature jordans like he didn’t even try but somehow still looked put together. his chain caught the hallway light when he grinned.
“damn,” he leaned on the doorframe, eyes dragging over you, “you lookin like i just interrupted somethin important.”
“just… cleaning,” you muttered, stepping aside.
he walked in easy, daps you up like you been friends. he smelled good like something clean, faint cologne under the sharp scent of what he carried in the bag.
“so this your lil spot?” he asked, looking around while heading to your room and dropping his bag on your desk. “cozy.”
you followed and sat on the bed, tucking your legs under you. “yeah. nothing special.”
he pulled out a small jar, the green inside glinting under the light. he set it down, then looked at you with that same smirk.
“you nervous?”
you swallowed. “a little. i don’t know what to expect.”
he chuckled low. “nah, don’t trip. i got you. first time, you gon be chillin. just listen to me, aight?”
you nodded.
he pulled out papers, started breaking it down with quick fingers like he’d done this a million times. you watched, fascinated by the way he moved so precise but casual.
“so what made you finally hit me up?” he asked without looking up, voice smooth.
you hesitated. “just wanted to try something new, i guess. everyone else is doing stuff for spring break, and i feel like i never do anything.”
he looked up then, raising a brow. “you? nah, you don’t strike me like everybody else. you different. i can tell.”
heat rose in your cheeks. “different how?”
“innocent,” he said simply, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it. “but in a good way. makes me wonder what else you never tried.”
you tried to laugh it off, heart skipping. “probably a lot.”
he leaned back, holding up the joint. “well, lucky for you, i’m a good teacher.”
he lit it, took the first pull, then handed it over. “alright, baby steps. hold it like this ma… yeah. now just pull in slow. don’t force it.”
your lips touched the end and you inhaled. it burned, sharp in your chest, and you coughed right after.
he laughed softly, rubbing your back. “it’s cool, it’s cool. everybody coughs the first time. means it’s hittin.”
you looked at him, watery-eyed but trying to smile. “that was awful.”
“nah,” he shook his head, grin tugging at his mouth, “you look cute tryna thug it out. go ‘head, try again.”
you did, slower this time, letting the smoke roll out your mouth.
“there you go,” he said low, watching you. “you a natural.”
a warmth started creeping into your body, not just from the smoke but from the way he kept looking at you like you were letting him in on a secret.
it didn’t take long before you felt it like a slow warmth stretching across your body, the edges of the room softening, your shoulders dropping loose for the first time in weeks. you leaned back against your headboard, blinking at connie.
“oh my god,” you whispered, laughing under your breath, “everything feels… weird.”
he smirked, already leaning back in your desk chair with the joint between his fingers. “weird how?”
“like… floaty. and my face feels funny.”
he chuckled, low and easy. “yeah, that’s the high. you relaxin now. don’t fight it.” he passed the joint back, watching the way your fingers brushed his. “you look cute like this.”
you rolled your eyes, taking another drag just to prove you could. “you keep saying that.”
“cuz it’s true.” he got up from the chair, coming to sit next to you on your bed, his shoulder brushing yours. “you don’t even know. everybody on this campus loud as hell, tryna be seen. but you? sittin here mindin your business, doin hair, actin like you ain’t the prettiest one around.”
your chest fluttered at the way he said it, casual but sure. “you don’t even know me.”
“i know enough,” he said, eyes on you now. “know you been tryna stay lowkey. know you the type that don’t hit nobody up unless you really trust ‘em. so when you texted me? yeah, i noticed.”
you shifted under his gaze, the smoke making it harder to keep your thoughts straight. “i just… i didn’t know who else to ask.”
“nah,” he said, grin tugging his lips, “you coulda asked a few people. but you wanted me. i ain’t mad at it.”
your laugh slipped out soft, shaky. “you’re so full of yourself.”
he leaned closer, shoulder pressing into yours now, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on something. “nah, i’m just observant. and right now, i’m seein you relaxin for the first time since i walked in. kinda like it.”
you didn’t say anything, too busy feeling how close he was, how warm his arm felt against yours.
he tilted his head, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “tell me what’s runnin through your head right now.”
you hesitated, words sticking in your throat. “that… you’re kinda… different than i thought.”
his grin widened slow. “different good or different bad?”
“good,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper.
he nodded, satisfied, passing you the joint one last time. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
the high hit all at once—like the world softened, music humming low from the hallway outside sounded sweeter, and every color in your room felt warmer. you leaned back against the wall, giggling without meaning to.
“why does everything feel… like this?” you asked, covering your face with your hands.
connie laughed, pulling them down gently. “cuz you high, ma. welcome to the club.”
“i feel stupid,” you admitted, though you were still smiling.
“nah, you look happy. i like it.” he stretched out on your bed now, one arm behind him, the other close enough that his hand brushed your thigh when he moved. “you should smile more.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard. “you say stuff like that too easy.”
he smirked, tilting his head. “and you believe it too easy. means you not used to hearin it.”
you tried to roll your eyes, but it came out softer this time, your cheeks warm. the high made it impossible to hide how flustered you felt.
“see?” he teased, leaning a little closer. “you tryin to fight it, but you like hearin me talk to you like that.”
you shook your head, but he just grinned, brushing the back of his fingers over your hand where it rested on your leg. the touch was light, but it sent heat rushing through you.
“you okay?” he asked, voice low now.
you nodded, staring at his hand against yours. “just… feels different.”
“yeah?” his thumb traced along your knuckles lazily. “good different?”
you swallowed. “yeah.”
he leaned in then, his breath warm against your cheek. “you want me to stop?”
your chest tightened, the question spinning in your head before you managed to shake it. “no.”
that grin tugged at his lips again, but softer this time. he shifted closer, tilting his head just enough for his nose to brush yours, testing the space.
and then you closed it.
his mouth was warm, the kiss unhurried—like he wasn’t in a rush, just letting you feel it. he tasted faintly like smoke and mint gum, his lips moving slow against yours, his hand sliding from your knuckles to hold your jaw gently.
when he finally pulled back, just barely, he kept his forehead against yours, his voice low and teasing.
“told you… i’m a good teacher. lemme teach you something else.”
next thing you know, connie has you on your knees, sunken into the carpet while your hands gripped the sides of the mirror, bent forward just enough to see your own reflection staring back. connie on his knees behind you, one hand firm on your lower back, the other guiding himself against your folds.
“damn,” he muttered, eyes locked on the way you looked spread out for him, “you don’t even know how fine you look right now. first time and you already got me losin my mind.”
the blunt from earlier still lingered on your lips, but all you could focus on was the stretch when he pushed in slow, inch by inch. your mouth fell open at the burn, your body tight around him.
“shhh,” he soothed, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “relax for me, baby. breathe… yeah, just like that. takin me so good.”
you whimpered, watching your own face twist in the glass as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.
“eyes up,” he told you, leaning over to kiss your shoulder. “don’t run from it. i want you to see how perfect you look takin this dick.”
he pulled back, sliding out halfway before sinking into you again, slow enough to make your legs tremble.
“fuck, you so tight,” he groaned, grip tightening on your waist. “like this pussy was waitin on me.”
you moaned, the sound muffled against your arm, but he reached forward, tugging it away.
“nah, let me hear you. don’t hide nothin from me.” his thrusts picked up, steady but deep, every stroke making your reflection shiver. “good girl… that’s it, moan for me.”
your body gave in, rocking back into him without thinking, your eyes glassy as you watched the way he filled you.
“look at you,” he said, voice dropping, “throwin it back already, like you know exactly what you doin. first time, and you movin like you mine for real.”
his words wrapped around you, pulling more sounds out of your chest with each thrust.
“say it,” he urged, pressing down on your lower back to arch you deeper. “tell me who you belong to.”
“y-you connie,” you gasped, nails clawing at the mirror frame. “i’m yours.”
his smirk showed in the reflection, sweat glinting on his neck as he drove into you harder, the slap of skin filling your dorm.
“that’s my girl,” he groaned, voice rough. “my pretty little first-timer, takin it like a champ.”
your arms shook against the mirror frame, each thrust making the glass rattle faintly. connie’s grip was firm on your waist, pulling you back onto him like he wanted you to feel every inch.
“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, eyes glued to where you joined in the reflection. “look at that—pussy grippin me like you don’t wanna let go.”
your mouth dropped open, moans spilling out unrestrained now. the burn of being stretched had melted into heat that curled low in your stomach, spreading sharp and sweet until it was all you could focus on.
“connie,” you whined, voice thin and shaky, “it’s— it’s too much.”
his hand slid from your hip to your stomach, holding you steady. “nah, baby, that’s not too much. that’s your body catchin up. you right there—i can feel it.” his voice dipped, steady and coaxing. “don’t fight it. let go for me.”
your legs trembled, your vision blurring as the rhythm of his hips drove into you. every snap against your ass echoed, every praise spilling from his lips made your chest tighten more.
“so good for me,” he muttered into your ear, leaning down until his chain brushed your back. “first time and you already makin me proud. keep them pretty eyes on the mirror. watch yourself cum on me.”
your body gave in before you could think, your knees nearly buckling as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and overwhelming. you cried out, clutching the mirror frame like it was the only thing holding you up, your reflection a blur of glassy eyes and parted lips.
“thaaat’s it,” connie praised, voice rough but full of pride. “there she go. that’s my girl. tight as fuck, squeezin me just right.”
he slowed his thrusts but not stopping, letting you ride it out, one hand rubbing soothing circles over your hip while the other pressed against your stomach to ground you.
“breathe, baby,” he whispered against your neck, kissing the damp skin there. “you did so good for me. so fuckin good.”
your chest heaved as you blinked at your reflection, sweat shining on your skin, your body still trembling.
“see that?” he murmured, brushing your hair back so you had no choice but to look. “that’s what it looks like when i make you mine.”
your body was still twitching from the previous orgasm, forehead pressed to the cool glass while you tried to catch your breath. connie didn’t let go of your hips, his thrusts slowing only for a moment before he started rolling back into you again, deeper now, heavier.
“you feel that?” he groaned, dragging himself out slow just to slam back into your heat. “pussy still clenchin on me like you don’t wanna let go. you gon make me lose it, baby.”
you whimpered, your body sensitive, every stroke pulling more sounds out of you.
“mm, that’s it,” he muttered, teeth gritted as he kept his pace steady. “first time, and you lettin me fuck you like this. takin every inch like a good girl. look at you in the mirror, baby see how perfect you look gettin fucked?”
your eyes fluttered open, hazy, catching sight of yourself in the reflection—sweaty, hair messy, connie’s chain glinting against your back as he started thrusting into you again, his jaw tight with focus.
“god, you so fine,” he grunted, fingers digging into your waist. “tightest shit i ever had. you know that? nobody ever gon do you like me.”
his breathing turned ragged, thrusts getting rougher, hips smacking loud against your ass. he leaned over you, chest pressing to your back, his voice low and strained in your ear.
“say it again,” he demanded, voice shaking. “say you mine.”
“i’m yours,” you gasped, barely able to keep your grip on the mirror frame. “all yours, connie.”
“fuck,” he growled, slamming into you harder. “that’s it, baby. keep sayin it.”
“i’m yours,” you repeated, moaning loud as he drove into that spot again and again.
his rhythm faltered, his groans spilling into your neck as his hips stuttered. he pulled you flush against him, burying himself deep with one last thrust.
“shit—fuck—” his voice broke, muffled against your shoulder as he came, holding you tight while his release spilled hot inside you.
he stayed there, chest pressed to your back, both of you breathing hard, your reflections hazy with sweat.
after a long moment, he kissed your shoulder softly, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your waist.
“damn, baby,” he whispered with a lazy grin, still catching his breath. “first time and you already got me tappin out. told you—you was made for me.”
LET'S SNEAK, AOT MULTI
sum. various aot boys and how they fuck you while trying to keep your relationship a secret. inspired by lyrics from sneak by leon thomas :p
feat. eren jaeger. jean kirstein. connie springer. armin arlert.
cw. cheating/infidelity, missionary & doggy, face-sitting, a nasty blowjob, praise, riding/cowgirl, creampie, office sex, risky sex, hold the moan, reader has multiple orgasms, some angst if you squint, not proofread...
wc. 2.7k
EREN JAEGER “can i fuck you in the daytime, daytime? even though that pussy isn’t mine.”
Eren’s moral compass is a bit skewed.
But you wouldn’t dare tell him that. He’d only throw it right back in your face, claiming you're worse. You’re the one with a boyfriend after all. He’s single. Technically.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” Eren asks as soon as he crosses the threshold into your home. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response before pulling his shirt off.
You close the front door behind you and sigh. “He’s out of town. Look…” You hesitate, not really wanting to finish your sentence, even though you know it’s long overdue.
Eren turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or even surprised. More like…intrigued. Regardless, the words make you wince.
“He wants to take me to meet his parents,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact.
Eren lets out a whistle. There’s a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, before you hear the sound of Eren unzipping his pants.
You stare at him. “What are you doing?”
He smirks. “I’m already here. Might as well go out with a bang.”
You don’t bother wasting any time pretending you weren’t hoping he’d say that. You strip, and almost immediately you’re pressed against a wall. Eren kisses you in a way that can only be described as needy, like he’s taking extra and stowing it away for later.
His hands are everywhere, squeezing and caressing and memorizing.
When he lays you down on the sofa, you aren’t expecting him to plant his tongue between your thighs.
“Eren–”
“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting his head to meet your eyes. “This is the last time, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Let me savor it.”
He makes surprisingly quick work of making you come and kisses you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. When he fucks you he does it slowly, agonizingly, eyes glued to your face as he watches your lips part when he bottoms out.
Your nails dig into his back. “Eren, don’t tease,” you huff. “Faster.”
He smiles down at you, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue. “What happened to letting me savor it?”
You squirm beneath him. “Fuck savoring. Fuck me.”
Eren doesn’t need to hear you say it twice. He picks up the pace, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he grabs your waist.
“Gonna miss this pussy,” he breathes against your skin. The way he says it is tender, a stark contrast to the rough way he pounds you. You wonder, just for a second, if he really means that he’s going to miss you.
But Eren can see your mind wandering. He taps your cheek.
“Hey. Pay attention. You haven’t come enough times to start losing your mind already.”
His eyes narrow as he takes in the sourness of your expression, unimpressed by his statement.
He huffs and pulls out. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around and get on all fours.”
You frown but comply. He rests one hand flat against your back, pushing you down into the perfect arch before he prods your slit with the tip of his cock.
“Gonna make you see stars,” he mutters, before burying himself inside you.
And he does. His rhythm is dizzying, and it has you biting into the couch cushions, groaning with every stroke.
His arm wraps around your hips so he can lay his hand flat on your lower belly. When he travels lower and starts to circle your clit, all the muscles in your core tighten. He doesn’t slow down when you reach your climax. In fact, you think he goes faster.
“Fuck, Erennn,” you whine, dragging out the last consonant of his name as you dig your fingernails into your palm.
“I know, I know. Takin’ me so well. One more.”
You try to remember what he’d always say, something about good girls coming in threes, or maybe third time’s the charm. Something that meant he’d always make you come three times before leaving. It’s hard to think of what it was when you can hear him slamming against your ass.
He draws out the third one in no time, calling you his good girl as you moan into the sofa.
It’s bittersweet when he pulls out, and you wish he would make you come in fives or something. Eren gives you a look that tells you he can tell what you’re thinking.
He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls his pants on and you can sense the goodbye in it.
“Take care of yourself, mkay? I’ll see you around.”
You watch him leave, wondering if you’ll see him for real.
JEAN KIRSTEIN “know you wanna keep this thing discreet. hear you calling through the streets.”
You’ve molded Jean into the perfect fuck buddy.
He’ll drop everything to come over the minute you text, doesn’t spread your business around, and always makes you come first.
“Right there, right there, fuck.” You grind against his face, throwing your head back as your grip around the headboard tightens.
Jean hums into your pussy as you orgasm, grazing his teeth against your clit as you ride it out.
Your body goes limp and he swiftly comes out from underneath you, laying you down on the bed gently as he peppers kisses across your skin.
“I’m gonna grab you some water,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving your room.
You watch him go, a small smile sitting on your face. He’s become so attuned to you, always at your beck and call, willing to cater to you in any way you ask.
It’s the kind of behavior that makes you want to suck his dick.
So, when he returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice water, you ask him.
“Do you wanna throat fuck me?”
Jean freezes, staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You suppose you have—it’s been nine months since the two of you started fucking and you have yet to go down on him (not that he’s ever complained). Still, you’d be offended at the look he’s giving you if it weren’t for the obvious erection growing in his pants.
You tilt your head to the side, eyeing his crotch before meeting his gaze. “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” he answers quickly, suddenly unfrozen and eager. He places the glass on your dresser, slipping out of his sweatpants and moving towards you.
Jean watches you roll off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up on your knees and looking at him with an expression that almost makes him dizzy.
Something feverish blazes in his eyes when he stands in front of you, and you have to work to keep the excitement off your face when he tugs down his boxers.
He strokes his cock idly, watching you look up at him. “You sure?”
This time you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I’m sure.”
He taps his dick on your lips, tentatively, and you open up. He shudders when you run your tongue along the underside of his tip.
Jean cradles your head in his hands as he pushes himself all the way into your mouth. There’s a shaky inhale from him when he hits the back of your throat.
“Oh shit,” he breathes.
You close your lips around him, hollowing out your cheeks, and something in him snaps.
The speed at which he thrusts into your mouth is almost violent, and he moans when you gag, the pads of his fingertips pressing harder into your scalp. He’s already sensitive from being rock hard the whole time you sat on his face, and his sloppy in-and-out, in-and-out motion drags your spit everywhere–your face, his pelvis, even your chest.
The feeling of him hitting your throat makes your eyes water, and you feel him growing impossibly harder against your tongue when you look up at him with glassy eyes.
He doesn’t last long, not with you looking at him like that. He’s mumbling an apology as he fills your mouth, saying if you weren’t so perfect he would’ve lasted longer. You’re grinning as you swallow down his cum, watching how his eyebrows furrow as he looks at your neck, and he kneels down to kiss you immediately.
When he pulls away, he’s looking at you with a soft sort of wonder. Admiration almost. A bashful smile pulls at his lips.
“Can we do that again?”
CONNIE SPRINGER “she like rich niggas, i’m her type. bored at the crib, she tryna pipe.”
conniiieee come over, im bored ;)
Connie smiles to himself when he reads your texts, his dick nearly stirring to life at the implication of your messages.
Despite your agreement to keep your… situation lowkey, he always pulls up to your apartment complex on his motorcycle, practically alerting the masses that he’s about to come upstairs and rock your shit.
You meet him at your front door, scowling. “Why do you always show up on that loud ass bike? I know you have a car now.”
Connie just smiles, scooting around you to come inside. “You keeping tabs on me, baby?”
You roll your eyes and kick the door shut. “Sasha won’t stop raving about how cool it is.” You do air quotes around the word ‘cool,’ trying to imitate the lilt in Sasha’s voice when she talks about it.
Connie drops his motorcycle helmet on the shoe rack by the door. “It is cool. If you’d stop being so stubborn and take me back I could take you for a ride.”
But there’s really only one kind of ride you’re interested in right now! Which is how you end up straddling him on the couch, pressing kisses into the side of his neck.
Connie’s hands rest loosely on your hips, letting you grind against him as slowly as you want. Your breathing is shaky, sweat coating your skin, a byproduct of the last four orgasms. You lift yourself off him on trembling legs, higher and higher until just the head of Connie’s cock remains inside you. You catch his eyes briefly, and the mirth swimming in them is the only warning you have for what he does next.
His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, tugging you back down on his cock harshly. A strangled sound escapes you, air catching in your throat with the sudden movement.
“Con-”
He kisses you, cutting you off as he bounces you up and down.
“Last one, mama,” he says against your lips.
You can feel an ache in your legs from them being bent underneath you for so long, your head is fogged up with leftover pleasure, and there’s a pressure building up deep in your stomach. This is why you keep letting him come over all these months after your breakup. He knows just how to wear you out.
Connie pulls you against him, chest to chest, and wraps his arms around you. He lets you rest your forehead against his as his cock brushes up against your g-spot, forcing moans out of you that can only be described as wanton.
“That’s it, baby. Nobody fucks you like this, huh?”
You shake your head, your nose nudging his. “Just you.”
Connie practically purrs in satisfaction, right before he comes inside you. You melt against him, the pressure in your abdomen releasing as you cry out. Connie’s lips sweep across your jaw, patient and gentle while he waits for you to come down.
When you do, he leans back, eyelids heavy with contentment. You can feel him softening inside you. You already know what he’s about to say just based on the expression he’s wearing, but you wait for him to ask before giving the same response you always do.
“Y’know we could do that all the time if you’d take me back.” He doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he used to, like he’s grown used to this back-and-forth the two of you have going on.
You give him a wry smile, wiping beads from the back of your neck. “We didn’t break up because the sex was bad, Connie.”
He kisses you then, soft and lingering. “Worth a shot.”
He cleans you up and you let him take a shower and rummage through your drawers for the few pieces of clothing you never returned to him. When he’s leaving, he throws a wink your way, picking up his motorcycle helmet with one hand and unlocking the door with the other.
"Text again soon, alright? Love you."
ARMIN ARLERT “always down for an afternoon delight, but i can never crash and spend the night.”
“We have to stop,” you whisper halfheartedly, tangling your fingers in Armin’s hair as he kisses you.
Armin smiles against your lips. “Why?” he asks, his hands traveling down the length of your pencil skirt. He starts kissing down your neck, mouth going lower and lower until his fingers reach the hem of your skirt.
He pulls your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. You giggle when he turns you around and gently presses your cheek against the door.
“I’ll get fired if HR finds out,” you say, arching your back as he pulls down your underwear. Your wet cunt feels a rush of cool air when he does, and you gasp when Armin plunges his fingers in. You feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder as he presses his chest against your back.
“But she’s so wet,” he whispers in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like that HR could find out.”
You neither confirm nor deny, just humming and wiggling your bare ass in response.
He chuckles, the sound traveling straight down to your core. Armin doesn’t give any warning before he slips himself inside you. He pulls you away from the door after the fact, covering your mouth with one hand and wrapping the other arm around your waist.
The hardest thing (other than Armin) about keeping your lunch “meetings” secret is the fact that neither of you are particularly quiet. Armin muffles your moans with his hand and muffles his own by biting into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. There’s nothing to be done about the sound of his hips slapping against your ass or his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. All the two of you can do is hope nobody comes back from lunch early and walks past the copy room on the fourth floor.
(But anyways, where’s the fun in it without a little risk.)
You moan into Armin’s hand when he hits a particular spot and he slows. He uses the hand on your face to tug your head back. “So noisy,” he says, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I know you want the whole office to hear, but don’t be so obvious.”
Your walls clench around him and he hisses, picking up the pace once more.
“You like thinking about our coworkers hearing you?” You shake your head, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves you to be a bold-faced liar.
Armin’s teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hitching as his hips lose their rhythm.
“Go ahead then,” he whispers against your skin. “Let them hear.” He moves his hand from your mouth and loosely wraps his fingers around your neck instead.
Another moan threatens to escape you, but you refuse, rolling your lips between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet.
Armin bites you then, and you gasp loudly. His thrusts become careless as he frantically chases his own orgasm. He brings his hand back up to your face, this time slipping two fingers between your lips and pressing down on your teeth so you can’t close your mouth.
You can hear the faint sound of footsteps that signal the end of your lunch break. A door opens, and voices become audible as your coworkers get closer.
Armin smacks your ass, hard, and it’s enough to pull you over the edge. The two of you come together, him sinking his teeth into your skin to suppress his own moans. You bite down on his fingers, but it does little to help. You’re positive the entire office can hear you screaming his name.
(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡
We are the Crystal Gems!
I went through some of my older art and found this one! I still like it. Thought I'd share it again! Made in 2020!!
lalalalala