havin soo many thoughts about bumping clits with a whiny bimbo, holding each other’s waists so tightly cuz it feels so good nd sloppy🥺
Pairing: Pieck x reader + (Porco, Reiner, Zeke, Mikasa mention)
Warnings: fem reader (no pronouns + fem genitals), implicit body description (tummy fat + pubic hair), tribadism, dumbification, bimbo!reader, bimbo!pieck, multiple orgasms, squirting, dubcon photography (previous consent given), cigarette/ alcohol mention, Zeke mention, not edited
So what if you’re both the clumsy whiny bimbos? Porco thought he struck out when you moved in, always knocking over things and spilling things down yourself, leaving sopping panties in the bathroom or bras strewn down the corridor, skimping around whenever his friends came over with pizza and beer and getting too drunk too quickly, plastering yourself to whichever girlfriend he had at the time ‘cause “I’m too tired Pock, are you guys gonna stay all night?”.
His girlfriends always seemed to break up with him a few days after having you squirming and curling next to them, talkin’ about lip gloss and perfume and what kind of vibrator did the job good. Strange.
It wasn’t until you - yes, you - got a girlfriend did he notice how much of a missed presence you were at his little pizza gatherings. Pieck was nice, a sweet little thing with tired eyes and the prettiest smile, but also undeniably stupid, as stupid as you with her bruised knees and constantly broken nails. She wasn’t as high maintenance as you, didn’t leave underwear out or clean her dildos in the kitchen sink - in fact, after she started spending more time with you, your underwear seemed to disappear completely. Strange.
And those pizza nights? Where Zeke would introduce them to a new kind of beer or make Eren deliver a specific brand of cigarettes, where Reiner would spend most his time eyeing you and accentuating his thighs ripe for you to sit on, where Porco would grumble about you stealing his girlfriend or laughing when you dropped a slice of pizza down your front - those nights were gone, different, quieter, so quiet, almost silent beyond the gulping and smacking of lips against molten cheese.
Sure, you and Pieck sometimes make an appearance, sometimes separately if Pieck was coming in from work or together when you two trashed the kitchen trying to make a snack; but you two almost always stayed in your room when the gang came over, even if Porco invited you down for food and a drink,
“Issokay Pock, we wanna watch a movie tonight! And Pieck said I can practise eyeliner on her, she uses those stamps y’know? And she can never get it right, and she always loves my eyeliner so -,” and suddenly Porco is reminded why he prefers you secluding yourself in your room, so he doesn’t have to sit through you jabbering on about something stupid. And he is also reminded at the same time, about how thankful he is for Pieck because now, finally, you have someone to talk to, to fawn over, to lie on, to gaze longingly at that isn’t one of his girlfriends.
Like you are now, gazing down at your girlfriend who’s got cheap eyeliner staining streams down her cheeks and lipstick smeared over her chin. The movie is long forgotten, some period drama about prejudice that Yelena suggested. You got distracted, enormously distracted by how squirmy Pieck was being, how much she was whining and grumbling about sitting still for you, kept crinkling her eyes so the eyeliner messed up, kept readjusting her legs under yours till her knee was pressed to your crotch and her stupid top was halfway down her chest, and suddenly the eyeliner and the movie and the stupid get together downstairs meant nothing.
“You’re so annoying sometimes,” a pillow falls to the floor, Pieck’s head dangerously close to the edge of the bed and she’s panting hard, gasping breaths fanning your collar bone and drying the spit she’d lathed over your skin. With her skirt flipped up over her hips, bunching with the fold of her belly, and threatening to cover the mess between her thighs; you hardly care for the banging of the headboard against the wall, or the rattling of your water bottle on your bedside table.
“Shut up, - you, fuck, don’t, go faster! - you were messing it up anyway,” Pieck’s statement diverges into a moan when you finally manage to hitch her thigh securely over your hip, opening her up better, easier, the slick of her pussy shining for a second before it’s smothered with yours,
“S’your fault for - nngh, Pieck - like, distracting - fuck! - me,” the feel of her against you, so hot, so soft and sugary and slippery, the harsh brush of her pubes against yours and the catching of her labia over your clit is just - you can barely speak, barely get a thought straight. One hand clawing into her hip, and the other hooking her thigh into the crook of your elbow, you speed up just a bit, swirling your pelvis and shuffling closer with every thrust against her.
“Faster! Please! - ,” Pieck throws her head back with a coo of your name, “No wait! Go a little - like - shit,”
You feel something shifting and suddenly Pieck is grinding back against you, up into you, foot planted into the mattress beside you so to give her enough momentum. Dropping your head to her chest, your mouth slobbers over her breasts, swelling and bouncing with every upward grind, whining when you can’t latch on properly.
“Stop I wanna, just stay there,” you can hear her grinding her teeth in concentration, the only time the two of you are actually smart enough to focus properly is when you’re both trying to cum messy and sloppy against each other. And god - fuck, you can feel her cunt pulsing and throbbing against yours, slipping and sliding hard enough, and fast enough to make echoing noises, filthy and lewd and knocking tears from your eyes. Her nails dig into your shoulder and your waist, trying to hold you still, keep you from grinding back down into her when she’s so close -,
“M’gonna cum, gonna cum! Right - right there don’t move!” For such a petit woman, she holds remarkable strength and Pieck fucks up against you, the leg still in your grasp tensing and kicking out, mouth opening with a howl. The sight alone is enough, the feeling of her spilling against you, into you, gushing against you, warm and sloppy and so messy that is has you cumming the same as her, crying out loud enough to leave a ringing in your ears and a cloud hanging low in your head, the world spinning and turning a fuzzy pink.
And you realise seconds later, that you’ve been flipped on to your back on to the remote for your fairy lights, and suddenly they’re pink and Pieck has put her hair up into a pony tail, looming over you with swollen lips and bitten breasts, cunt insistent against yours.
“I wanna - you cum first this time,” she’s slurring her words, grinding long and hard down against you, clit swirling clumsy and dirty over yours, and you can’t even form the words to reply. Not even a nod, if you don’t count the lolling of your head in time with her thrusts. Pieck’s got this deep flush to her skin, spreading down to her chest and mixing with the bruises you probably (?) sucked while you were cumming a moment ago. She’s sweating, drooling ever so slightly at the sight of your belly jiggling with how hard she’s grinding, barely lifting and slapping down, pussy hardly leaving yours for a second. It makes her go faster, makes her want to see all of you wobble and away and jolt with her actions,
“Pieck! Pieck! Pieck! Gonna - gonna ! Nngh fuck!” You’re chanting her name, shivering and shaking, belly tending and quivering, arms - you’re probably failing a bit because it’s too quick, too hard, coming too fast for you to say anything coherent, you’re gonna -, “gonna cum Pieck! Ma-I’m - ,”
You spasm with a wail, cunt gushing hard and wet, spraying with how quick and lithe your girlfriend fucks you through it. It soaks her skirt, a puddle between the two of you, dripping down your belly and shining pearly over your pubes. She slows down, doesn’t stop completely, but Pieck allows you to catch your breath, back returning to the mattress that’s bare with how hard you were tearing at the sheets. You’re both a mess, sweating and shiny, covering in cum and slick and spit, still fuckin’ grinding up against each other, the bedsheets crumpled beneath you, water spilt over your bedside table, fairy lights set to flicker - and yet, Pieck leans down and kisses your forehead, sweet and brief,
“After - can you still show me your eyeliner thing?” She reaches for her phone where it’s lodged beneath a stuffed dinosaur, opening an app and taking a photo, “look! It’s barely smudged!” She stares at the photo, at you, messy and bleary eyed and slack with pleasure, “What brand is it? Does it come in brown, cause I think Sasha said brown would suit me better,”
“Pieck,” your needy, whining whimper doesn’t go wholly unnoticed, squirming beneath your girlfriend with her inconsistent thrusts against you, as if continually forgetting she’s tribbing you and then suddenly remembering and delivering a hard, slick kiss of her cunt to yours, “after Pieck, wanna cum again, please - I promise I’ll do your makeup after,”
Pieck throws her phone down, still open on the picture of your fucked out face complete with perfect eyeliner before leaning down to kiss you, soft nibble and pecks to imitate the soft slicks of her pussy against yours,
“Mhm - then pizza after that? M’sure that new friend Mika might wanna see your eyeliner too! Maybe we can show her how good it stays on!”
