Hello!! How Are You?? :) May I Ask How Would The Love Intrests (plus Harper, Leighton And Remy, Please

i have two types

IS IT MINE? (Connie x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Connie Springer x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Connie doesn’t take too kindly to you, his pretty little bimbo girlfriend, chatting up his team during an interview after his big fight. But lucky for him, he has many ways to show you how to correct your mistakes and prove to him that you’re his favorite little trophy.

Warnings: No Titans AU; Boxer!BF!Connie x Bimbo!GF!Reader; Public/Locker Room Sex; Mirror Sex; Teasing; Cock Worship; Degradation; Facial Abuse; Hair-Pulling; Choking; Face Slapping; Cum/Spit Play; Connie is a Dirty Talker AND a Muncher; Pussy-Drunk!Connie; Multiple Os; Doggystyle; Cum-Drunk!Reader; Mating Press; Daddy Kink; MDom!Connie x fsub!Reader; Some Spanish; Multiple Creampies & Cum-Shots

Writer’s Note: I had this idea after listening to Leon Thomas' ass for over a week now lol. This was originally gonna be a Sukuna one-shot, but then I decided to do someone I haven't done before after falling down the AOT rabbit hole again: MY CONNIE. Enjoy! -Jazz

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“C-Connie, please! I-I…ah! I said I was sorry!”

The young UFC fighter standing at 5'9 and most definitely taller than your short stack ass has you pushed against the wall, one of his knees wedged between the cushiony, soft, plush inner thighs that he so loves to kiss, bite, and love on when he isn't training for a fight.

You should've known better than to have worn your favorite (and his favorite) fiery-hot red mini dress to his big championship match. The kind with that buttery-soft material that feels like silk against Connie's fingers as he glides them down your beautiful, delectable, pudgy body and has a low cut so your tits are damn near popping out of your push-up bra.

But it was a big event tonight! Televised and everything! You wanted to look nice for your man and the cameras, so you pulled out your sexiest along with some red heeled mules, Fenty Gloss to make your lips nice and juicy, and Connie's oversized leather jacket because he just LOVES seeing his baby wearing his clothes.

Once backstage and in the hallway near the backrooms, he damn near ripped his jacket off to explore your body with his hands, calloused and bruised from the previous fight and years of training. His lips heatedly caress your exposed neck, nuzzling into the scent of your sugary whipped cream-scented body mist, as he leaves sloppy kisses there.

“Oh, so now you’re sorry,” he huffs. “You definitely weren’t when you were chattin’ up my fuckin’ trainer.” He pulls away from your neck to instead kiss your pouty lips, caressing your chin and rubbing his knee up against your satin panties...which he's pretty sure is a thong.

The way that thing behind you was moving tonight as you went to your seat in the VIP section near the boxing ring was just too damn noticeable. He damn near lost focus in the ring going against his opponent because he was too busy watching you-his baby; his love; his cutest little fan.

You were in the stands cheering him on alongside Eren, his trainer and best friend, Armin, Connie's assistant who swears that he isn't, and Reiner, Connie's agent. You had a sign and everything. "I decorated it myself!" you proudly exclaimed when he swooped you up after the fight, sweaty and tired, but you enthusiastically kissed him anyway, the cameras all in your face.

You truly are a prize. The prettiest trophy to behold. Not even Connie's new championship belt can compare...though it did feel nice to knock that cocky Russian fuck out cold and hear the countdown before the final bell rung. He had been training for this fight for months, sometimes missing out on dates with you, but that he would make up for with some heated sex and cuddling sessions.

You understood. You always understood. You truly are a trophy...and others seem to know it too. Why else would Eren, Armin, and Reiner be chatting you up backstage during Connie's interview?

Right in his face.

And you were chatting right back, smiling that big, pretty smile and flaunting those pretty tits that Reiner and Eren had major eyes on. Especially Eren, the disrespectful fuck.

“I bet you loved his eyes all over this,” he growls. He takes a handful of your ass, laying it flat on the juicy cheeks with a smack that echos throughout the empty hallway. “And then my agent comes waltzin’ over to tell you how pretty you look.”

Connie was simmering mad. It's bad enough those motherfuckers flirt with every pretty girl that comes their way, but with YOU?! Did they do it just to get on his nerves? To make him sweat during his interview?

And when you gladly conversed with them and giggled at their compliments, it took everything in him to not throw the damn microphone at Reiner's head and crash out on everybody. Unfortunately for Connie, he is a major hot head and your fine ass don't make it no better.

One could say he is possessive. Another could say he is obsessive. Either way, he doesn't play about you. Especially when it comes to other men. He knows how sweet you are and he knows that men can take advantage of that.

But this is one of those times where you're just too nice and you need to be taught lesson about who the fuck you should be smiling and giggling at. “I-It was just a compliment!” you whine. “They know I’m with you, Con!"

Your nails, glittery and bejeweled for tonight's event, drag down Connie's tan skin, defined, muscular back, and toned arms roped in ink. How you love his tattoos. You've always been a sucker for them plus the brow pierced, the lip ring that adorns his plump bottom lip, and his buzzcut. It is all supposed to be intimidating, but it turned you on the first day you met him at the gym when he helped you reach a towel.

Connie hums in a disagreement, gently nipping at your bottom lip. “Clearly not. And clearly, you don’t either.” He pulls away to give you a smile laced with wickedness and seduction. It makes you weak in the knees. “So lemme remind you, baby.”

Your pretty, brown eyes widen in alarm. "O-Out here?" you whimper. You look down the hallway, barely even hearing the commotion backstage of other interviews and cameras snapping photos.

Connie gives you a confused look, his brows furrowed, and then begins to laugh. "No, silly girl!" he cackles, giving your ass another squeeze. "I'm not tryna be arrested for indecent exposure. It's bad enough I get caught free-ballin' today."

His hazel eyes glow with mirth and you feel yourself flush as he grinds himself against your core. The hot-headed, quick-witted fighter is known to leave your crib and go straight to a stadium without his underwear. Today was no different. He left your apartment at drawn, leaving you with a sweet kiss, and arrived to the stadium in just his shorts...nothing underneath.

So, of course, the cameras caught the outline of his big dick swinging around underneath the thin basketball shorts...not that you complained. You love it when people thirst after your man.

Your eyes tick down to his shorts now, straining to see the prized possession underneath: thick, pretty, tan cock that he has made very clearly is yours and only yours.

Connie notices your eyes gazing downward and grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Oh, you wanna see?" he teasingly asks. "Fuckin' little slut. Bet that's all you were thinkin' 'bout while I was in that ring."

He pushes you farther into the wall, pressing his harder, toned body against your softer, plushier one. "Bet you wanted my shorts to fall down so you could see that big cock on the full screen." His lips glide down the side of your neck to trail down to your chest, pressing kisses to the soft tops of those tits.

"Connie," you whisper. Your panties have begun to grow tight and uncomfortable against his knee, signaling your arousal. But then again, you were aroused when he nearly flew from the interview table and pulled you away from Eren and Reiner, dragging you down the hall to his dressing room.

Seeing Connie fight always gets you wet. You love how fast and strong he is, determined to win. He takes his fighting very seriously and has made himself known in the UFC world as a capable boxer. Seeing him punch noses and clock jaws has become sort of a kink of yours. Something about the brute strength he possesses and the aggression.

Aggression that you'll probably be getting tonight. "Lucky for you, baby, this is all for you." Connie takes your hand and presses it against his bulge that has begun to harden. You exhale, shuddering at the hard, pulsing, throbbing outline of his dick. You're practically salivating...from your mouth AND your pussy.

But just as quickly as it happens, it's done and Connie tears your hand away from his dick and pulls you off of the wall. You let out a little gasp as he drags you over to the door to his dressing room, yanks his key out from under the door, and unlocks it.

SMACK!

He gives your ass another hard smack that makes you squeak and your pussy throb. "Get the fuck in there," he growls. You do as you are told, quickly walking into the lavender-scented room with its royal blue walls, snack tables, private locker room and shower, and comfy furniture.

Connie shuts the door behind him, not even bothering to lock it. No one is coming in here. You stand there in the middle of the floor as he tosses his jacket aside and saunters up to you in his shorts, clean tee, and sneakers. You feel like you have been shot with a tranquilizer dart: you can't move an inch.

Your boyfriend finally makes it to you and yanks you to him by your hand. Your body reacts in excitement at being snatched up like that, your nipples hardening and your pussy twitching in your panties. Being so close to him and smelling the sweat and cologne in his skin doesn't help.

"Ya looked so pretty fa' me tonight, baby," he coos, one hand on your waist while the other caressing your cheek. "It...was all for me, right?" You melt from his touch, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. "Y-Yes, Papi," you whimper out. "Of course, it was. I only wear these clothes for you."

Only the tightest, shortest, skimpiest, sexiest clothes for your man. Your style of choice is considered "bimbo-ish" in general, but you love it and so does Connie. He doesn't care at all about what you wear. In fact, he implores you to wear the shortest skirts and lowest tops to give dudes a taste of what they will NEVER have.

"Aww, baby," Connie coos. His eyes fill with adoration for you. "You almost make me want to not punish your ass." His smile fades and you feel your stomach flip over. "Bend over that fuckin' couch."

He nods over to the plush couch sitting just a foot away from you in front of a full-length mirror that captures everything that is happening and will happen. Obediently, you saunter over to the couch and bend over, your back arched and your arms gripping the back of the couch.

Your body stifles when you feel fingers caress your spine, gliding down your back over the soft fabric of your dress. "What's the fuss, mama?" Connie chuckles. "It's just me. You got nothin' to be afraid of."

You gulp as you feel him peel your dress up to expose your plump ass in your thong...but not just any thong. "A G-string?!" he scoffs. "I knew somethin' was up with this dress. You needy little minx."

SPANK!

The first swat on your ass is a surprise and harsh, the loud clap of his palm hitting your right cheek echoing throughout the room. You flinch at the harsh, fiery sensation, but you know you'll have to get used to it because it isn't the only one. The next two are just as rough.

SPANK!

SPANK!

"Ow!" you shout, gritting your teeth at the fire licking across your ass from your boyfriend's assault. "Connie, wait-"

But you can't finish because your boyfriend is sitting down next to you and tossing you over his lap. You gasp as you fly over his legs right onto his groin, your ass tooted in the air for him. "Sorry, baby," he chuckles. "You got me excited. Can't help how this ass makes me feel."

And then his hand is coming down onto your butt again, making it glow and damn near putting his handprint on the soft, brown globes of fat that he just loves to touch, kiss, bite, lick, and massage every chance he gets:

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

Or in this case, smack. “You take those spankings like a champ, mami,” Connie coos. “That’s my girl.”

Soft moans and whimpers fly from your lips with every harsh hit, tears springing into your brown eyes and wetting your lash line. "Oh, fuck!" you sob. "P-Please stop, Con! It hurts!"

Connie pauses, smirking down at his pretty baby pulled over his lap with her ass all glowy and sore. "Yeah?" he teasingly asks. "Then why is your pussy so wet for me, huh?" You go rigid, realizing you've been exposed for the slut you are.

You feel Connie's hand wedge between your thighs and you moan as it glides against the soaked spot of your thon. "You think I can't feel you rubbin' yourself against my dick, puta?" Your heart leaps at the degrading name. You love it when Connie speaks in his native tongue. He tsks, shaking his head. "Guess I'll have to try more drastic measures."

He harshly pulls you up to look at him, his eyes aglow with lust and a noticeable tent in his shorts. He begins to strip you out of your dress, dragging the slinky thing down your body after pulling the straps down your shoulders. "You don't get this dick that easily, mama...not till you give me what I want." And you know exactly what that is.

Suddenly, he has you on your back and your thighs open for him, your G-string and your dress discarded on the floor. The only thing he has left on you are your shoes, your pretty, pedicured toes peeking out of the mules.

Connie gazes down at the gorgeous, glistening, brown lips before him, salivating at the very sight of you. He sighs, giving you the impression that he has been waiting for this. "I've won so many awards, but none are better than this pretty lil' pussy." And he means that. You know he does.

There is no more talking once his pierced tongue is inside of you and his hands are pinning your plushy thighs apart, his fingers caressing your stretch marks as he sucks, licks, and devours your cunt. The cold metal of his tongue ring melts against your hot, soaked pussy, somehow stimulating you more.

You writhe and shiver under his ministrations, one hand gripping the couch while the other grasps his scalp for dear life. "O-Oh, my God!" you choke out. "Oh, Papi, please! Go faster! You're so good at this, fu-u-u-ck!"

You are loud and unable to keep your voice down, but neither one of you cares. You are both too deep in the throes of pleasure to care about noise. Connie moans into your wet pussy, loving how sticky you are and how your ass cushions his chin as he laps away at your juices. "Mmm-hmm," he mumbles. "You had the nerve to flirt with Eren even though we know damn well only I can make you feel like this."

You whimper at his criticizing words, your pretty lips wobbling. "I-I wasn't-"

"I'm sorry, baby," he interrupts, giving you an apologetic look as he takes his thumb and rubs your clit. "Lemme correct myself: maybe you weren't flirtin' with him, but he was definitely flirtin' with you." He stares up at you, his eyes angry. "And I don't like that."

His tongue cascades down to your asscrack, licking up the trail of juices that slipped down there. You damn near scream to the heavens as his tongue caresses the sensitive little hole between your ass before he travels back up to your pussy, gently sucking on your lips. "Oh, shit!" you moan.

You're seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids while Connie is busy indulging in your soaking pussy, taking as much as he is giving. "Nobody fucks with what's mine," he growls. "And this is mine...isn't it?"

He pauses, stilling his thumb on your clit. Your body twitches in desperation, needing to cum. "Yes!" you sob. "Yes, Papi, it's yours! I'm fuckin' yours! Please make your baby girl cum!" You feel Connie smile against your pussy before going back to lapping at your cunt while he rubs your needy button in semi-circles, making your hips buck and your core tighten.

It doesn't take long for your orgasm to crest, rising to the surface like the sun rising over a grand sea. With a loud moan that steals the air from your lungs, you cream all over Connie's panting, pierced tongue, spilling your nut all over his soft lips and chin. But he doesn't eagerly lap it up or talk you through your orgasm like he usually does.

Instead, he sits up, wipes his mouth, and stares you down hard. You stare at him, confused and slightly scared of his intense glare. "W-What are you doing?" you pant. "Why'd you stop?"

SMACK!

Connie's hand slaps against your soddened, wet cunt, making you yelp from the sensitivity. "Cause you've seemed to have forgotten your place. You listen to me and I didn't say you could cum...yet you did it anyway."

Your stomach twists, realizing your mistake. What if he doesn't fuck you now? Or what if he fucks you dumb and fills you up with his spunk without letting you cum once? Or what if he makes you cum over and over again without a pause or a break to bring you to tears and pleas to stop?

He leans in toward you, squeezing your cheeks between his hand, making your lips pucker like a fish. "Now, what do you think I should do about a brat like you, huh, mama?" he whispers, cocking his head to the side. "Should I fuck you into submission?"

A tiny, shuddery exhale leaves your lips, one of hope. But then he clicks his tongue, making a sour face at you. "Nah; I'd like to fuck that slutty ass mouth first. That mouth just loves to chat up dudes that it shouldn't."

He keeps his intense, all-ablaze eyes on you as he yanks on the drawstring holding his shorts up. They tumble down his tan, toned thighs, revealing his Armani boxers that he pulls down his V-line in one swift motion. He strips off his shirt with one hand, pulling it over his head by reaching behind his neck to grab the collar.

Soon, he is completely naked and stands before you, his glistening muscles, tan skin, and tattoos on full display. All for you. Your hands and lips ache to touch, kiss, and lick him like a lollipop...especially the pretty dick hanging between his thighs. Thick. Curved. Dripping in pre-cum. Bobbing, throbbing, and hard all for you.

Your boyfriend wordlessly helps you stand and gently pushes you down onto your knees. Your eyes widen at his cock twitching in your face. "Con-"

"Ah-ah," he tuts, pressing a finger to your lips. "Shut up and open that pretty mouth for me, mama. No words. Just worship this dick since you wanted it so bad." He gives you a cocky, crooked smile that makes your stomach flip-flop and your cunt throb. Damn pretty motherfucker.

Unable to resist him or his delicious cock, you spread your lips and wrap them around the shaft while your hand wraps around the base, gently stroking in time with your sucking. Connie watches your pretty, pink lips stretch around his dick as you take him in your mouth, your head bobbing slightly as you do.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip at the wonderful feeling of your soft lips and wet tongue caressing every sensitive spot of his cock, coating it in your spit. "Dis mío, baby," he groans. "You're so pretty down there." He slowly pulls out, groaning as he does when he catches the string of spit that connects his head to your bottom lip.

"Ya like suckin' Papi's cock?" he asks as he gently slaps his head against your pouty, glossy lips and your soft cheeks. You slowly nod, your eyes hooded and seductive. "Yes," you whimper. "I love it, Papi."

Connie shivers, loving it when you get this slutty for him. It means you're just as horny for him as he is for you. He grabs the back of your head and directs you back down his cock. "Yeah, Papi knows you do," he coos as you swallow him whole. "He knows you'd never intentionally try to fuck with him. Sometimes, slutty bimbos like you just need a little...redirection."

As your throat begins to open around him, he takes that as a sign to begin fucking your throat. Really fucking it. Like it's a toy. He grips your hair and rolls his hips, filling your mouth to the brim with his dick as his head just passes the threshold of your sloppy, tight throat.

"Fuck!" he loudly groans. "Look at her. Look at that sexy lil' thing in that mirror." You shift your eyes slightly to the right where, sure enough, the mirror plastered against the wall behind the couch catches sight of the nasty sight it beholds.

You almost don't recognize yourself as the curvy girl with all of her rolls, stretch marks, and love handles on her knees before the stud who is plunging his cock in and out of her mouth, luscious moans and swears in Spanish dripping from his lips.

"Who's that gettin' her face and her makeup fucked, huh?" Connie grunts, still fucking your mouth and making you gag as you stare. You. It's you taking that cock like a champ with spit dripping down your chin and your mascara slightly caking your lash line.

"You love this rough shit, don't you?" Connie chuckles, staring down at you in adoration. "Damn, babe, you must be REALLY horny." You are. You can't help but rock your hips as you grind your pussy against the floor in an effort to relieve yourself.

"Mmm-hmmph!" you mumble around Connie's cock. With a soft groan, he pulls himself out of your mouth, his dick now slick with saliva. He tilts your chin up to face him, nearly giving you whiplash. "You wanna ask me somethin'?"

You swallow the spit and pre caught in your throat before finally finding the energy to speak. "Please fuck me, Papi?" you softly question. "Will you please bend me over and fuck me? I need you so badly."

You begin nuzzling your face against his hard cock, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the shaft. "Please, please, please," you whimper. "Please fuck me." You suddenly feel the cock against your cheek stiffen even more, the one, large vein trailing from the heavy, cum-filled balls to the tip pulsing in need.

Suddenly, Connie has you on all fours in front of the mirror and he is mounting you from behind, his cock gently slapping against your soft, jiggly asscheeks. You stare at your boyfriend in the mirror, noticing how his brow is furrowed in concentration and sweat has collected between his jiggly pecs.

"Don't look away from that mirror till I say so," he demands. "I want you to watch yourself get fucked dumb in that bitch." And then he's sliding that dick inside of you, making your velvety, wet pussy walls stretch around his length. It jolts your senses awake and draws a loud, longing moan out of your and Connie's mouths.

His hands grip your soft hips as leverage to draw himself in and out of you, going at a steady, slow tempo at first. But then, once the need builds and slow isn't ideal anymore, he speeds up his thrusts until his hips are slamming against yours and clapping sounds drift through the air like a goddamn audience is applauding.

Your mouth falls agape on various moans, squeaks, and whines as your boyfriend fucks you in doggystyle, giving you backshots like it will be the last time he will do so. "A-Ah!" you gasp. "Oh, my God, Connie, yes! Fuck yes, fuck me! Fuck me just like that!"

Connie grins at you in the mirror, loving how your titties and ass bounce and jiggle with every thrust of his hips. "Yeah? Like this?" He props one leg up and proceeds to nail that spot in your pussy that makes you see stars. "Is that what my mama likes?" he grunts. "Is that what she needs?"

You can't even speak. Your mind is mush, only melting more and more as your clit becomes overstimulated from Connie's balls slapping against it every time he pistons himself forward to fill your pussy up with his cock.

One hand grips one of your titties, massaging it in his palm, with the other grips your asscheek for dear life, jiggling it in enjoyment. "God, this fuckin' pussy," Connie pants. "I'd give up all the fuckin' trophies for this every single day forever, baby. You know that, right?"

Yes, you know. And you know he means it. That only makes your need increase and your moans grow louder and more intense as his fucking speeds up until he is rutting into you. "Connie! I'm gonna cum soon!" You can feel your second orgasm rising, but you hold out. You need to cum only when he says so.

Connie laughs at you, loving how desperate you've become as you bounce on his dick. "Eager lil' bitch, ain'tcha?" he chuckles. He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing it firmly as he continues to plunge himself inside of you. "Go 'head and cum for me, baby. I've got plenty more to give you. Cum for me now."

At his growly command, you come undone on his cock, shivering and shaking as your pussy quivers around him. You know that anyone outside of these walls can hear you, but you find yourself not caring. You can't when you feel this good.

"Fuck!" Connie groans, fighting for his life in your pussy. You feel too good stroking him with your walls, nearly draining the cum out of him. He forces himself to pull out and wetly strokes himself against your ass as your cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs."Not yet," he grunts. "Gotta make sure you understand who you belong to."

He suddenly pushes you down onto the floor, chuckling when you squeak in surprise. "Put that fuckin' face in the floor, bitch." Your cheek smushes into the carpet as he sinks himself inside of you again, nevermind that you just came and your pussy is quite sensitive.

He begins fucking you rough, hard, and fast again, mercilessly nailing that spot that makes your eyes roll back and tears soak your lashes. Connie leans down to hear you make those pathetic whines as he drills your shit, his lips nibbling at your earlobe. "Whose is it?" he groans into your ear. "Whose pussy is this, mama, huh? Is it mine?"

You don't know how you're able to answer. Your brain feels like it has left the building. "Yes!" you whine into the carpet. Connie grips you up by your chin, forcing you to look at yourself and him in the mirror. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. Tell me that again, nice and loud."

Your eyes roam over his tan skin and muscles glistening in sweat. His tattoos. His intense yet loving hazel eyes gazing back at you. "Yes, Connie!" you shout. "Yes, it is! It's yours! I promise it's all yours!"

A slow, wicked smile stretches across Connie's face and he cracks his neck as if he's about to go into a fight. "Oh, I'm gonna fuck you up now, baby."

And he does. The man puts you through the damn wringer, fucking you in every position he can. When he finishes making you cum by drilling your pussy with your face down and your ass up, he tosses you onto the couch and fucks you in missionary, his hips drilling into yours, your legs up and your pretty heels dangling over his broad shoulders.

This is the position that is the end for Connie. He can't help the way your jiggling titties, brown nipples, soft tummy, and big, brown eyes make him feel as he fucks you dumb and gives you deep dick in the couch, making the both of you moan loud and so unabashed. He needs to cum for you. "Gonna cum!" he warns you. "Gonna fill this pussy up!"

You let out a simpering moan, feeling another orgasm rising to the surface. You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Keep lookin' at me," he practically begs, his face flushed and eyes hooded. "Look at me while I fill you up, baby."

You have no choice but to ride the wave with him as he fucks your cunt faster, chasing his high. When his body tenses and his eyes roll back, showing the whites of his eyeballs, you know he is done for. With a low, long moan of pure yearning and release, he cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his spunk finally. His orgasm tries another (fifth? Sixth?) mini orgasm that sends tremors throughout your body.

Connie groans as he pulls you to him, sinking his cock as far as he can go just so he can ensure that his cum stays inside of you for a bit longer. "And you'd better not clean that up," he huffs into your ear. "Let it drip when we walk outta here later."

You whimper as the aftershocks kick in, making your body tremble slightly. Your boyfriend holds you close, gently talking you through it. "That's it, baby, let it out," he coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I love you so much."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his proclamation. No matter how many times he says this, you will always react as if it is the first time he is saying it to you. Once you find your voice, you embrace him back despite your sweaty, sticky body. "I love you too, Con," you giggle. "Even if you are insane."

Connie laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, sweetly ending such a rough, hot fuck session. After some more kissing and aftercare snuggles with you sitting in his lap, Connie gently pats your ass to get you to stand. "Now let's get you cleaned up before people come lookin' for us."

Click.

Abruptly, you and Connie look towards the door where, sure enough, you see shadow figures underneath the slot under the door. You gasp, quickly snatching up Connie's jacket and covering yourself with it just as the boxer tugs on his shorts.

He storms over to the door and opens it, revealing none other than his trainer, his agent, and his assistant in the hallway. Caught red-handed. "Or not," Connie finishes. "Fuckin' perverts."

Armin grows as red as a tomato. "I-I was just coming by to tell you that CBS wanted to talk with you," he stammers, doing his very best to not look at you.

"I-It was his idea!" Jean cries, pushing Eren in front of himself and Armin as the first one to get pummeled. "He made me be the lookout! I swear, I'm innocent!"

Eren is as cool as a cucumber, even giving you the eye as he stands right in Connie's face. Those intense, teal eyes... "That's a fat ass lie, but I don't regret shit," he scoffs. "Personally, it was a treat hearin' your pretty girl make those noises."

Connie punches him in the chest, making Eren laugh while he rubs the harsh spot. "Fuckin' asshole," he huffs.

He turns to you, making sure to stand right in the way of the ogling trainer as you grip his jacket closer to your luscious body. "Maybe if he's good and starts respectin' me, I'll let him join us next time."

It is a joke and you know it is...so you don't let your boyfriend or his trainer see how much that turns you on.

THE END.

older bf nanami😍😍😍😍😍😍🤤🤤🤤🤤

*rubs hands together like a devious fly*

➽─────────────────────────────❥

43 was an eventful year for nanami... fresh out of a decade-long marriage and fitted with the shiny new title of CFO. he just bought a skyrise apartment in cold, hard, cash and slept in maid-pressed sheets every night.

the best part is, his workload was nearly nonexistent. sure, he's sent a few documents to sign and look over, but the most hours he's pulled since the promotion was less than four in a day. truly a life well-earned.

so, now he spends his thursday mornings tucked against you -- his gorgeous twenty-one-year-old girlfriend, naked, snoozing in the canyon between your breasts.

you're both completely bare from a night well spent and glued to each other by the hip. he loves you, you love him, and his stuffed pockets and superior generosity were only the icing on the cake. there was no part of you that equates him to his wealth, but it's nice not having to want for anything.

it's like god was with you when you accepted that mid-year internship at his company. as a finance student, there's nothing you could learn on paper that you couldn't learn better in person.

and nanami was the best teacher. so thorough, stoic, and strict. It's easy to daydream about him and his greying roots. him and his deep chuckle and eyebrow quirk.

if the perfect older man existed, he'd have that title.

you two wake up halfway to noon, sliding out of bed with his long arm tangled around you.

"this internship is paid, but i don't claim taxes on it, right? since I'm a student?" you have no idea why that's what you dreamt of when you just had your body ravaged the night before, but it was.

"good morning to you, too." nanami yawns, sitting with his back to you on the other side of the bed. "yes, you claim taxes on it."

"then, can you give me a raise?"

"if i give you a raise, they'll just pull more money out. what's wrong, kid, you short on money? I can just make up the 10% in cash."

you're so close to saying yes, but you didn't care that much about the money. it was just on your mind when you fell asleep and you wouldn't stop thinking about it until you asked him.

then, he looks at you over his shoulder, bedhead all out of place and dark eyes shadowed. it makes you bite over your lip and say things you don't mean to say.

"yeah, i want the money. but, i also want you, right now."

you're crawling back over the bed, he's turning around to meet your touch. "no. money or sex. what kind of man do you think I am?"

you mumble, pressing your lips to the edge of his jaw. after all, you have to give to get. "a very generous one," you purr.

"i'm serious." he has you by the throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pretty eyes flutter shut. you're sitting over your heels, brows furrowing when your arousal starts to drip down through your legs.

nanami is not shy when it comes to handling you accordingly. he always has a comfortably tight hand around your neck, shoulders, or between your legs.

and that morning he keeps his hand pressed to your throat when he fucks you in full nelson. he's whispering filthy shit in your ear, only moving from the choke when you let your knees fall and he has to slap you back to your senses.

he's spent all of his good years envisioning his inner sex addict, now he's living it. you can keep up with him and you love it when he treats you like this.

more fingers in your mouth, more hands in your hair, more degrading, filthy names.

all for him to smile at your fucked-out, sweaty figure when he's done and call you beautiful.

Io credo che l'amore tuo, in fondo, sia sempre stato una bugia

[frase mia]

The Ronettes kicking each other’s ass while on tour with the Beatles (1966).

love in attack on titan

also posted on tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT2b4fquf/

part two to this ! fem!reader. intox. coercion.

the next time you meet plug!geto, it’s at his flat two weeks later with a dreadfully low stash and an achingly empty cunt. he, of course, is more than happy to fill both free of charge.

…of money, that is.

plug!geto opens the door with a mischievous grin, leans lazily against the doorframe and crosses his arms as his eyes rake over your body. shamelessly lingering on your more…intimate areas.

“nice seein’ you again.” he purrs, lips curling like the wisps of smoke that waft up into the air behind him. “you haven’t been answerin’ my texts.”

“been busy.” you mumble, which isn’t exactly a lie. you have been busy—trying not to wallow in the shame that comes from cumming around your dealer’s fingers…getting off to him calling you a slut and a whore. dreaming for it to happening again and again and again and—

“yeah? thought you were ignorin’ me.”

“n-no.” you stutter, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. they glint with something predatory. like he’s playing with you. pawing at his meal before he pounces. “i’d never do that.”

another lie.

suguru leans up off the frame now. turns his body to the side and gestures with his chin for you to slip past. “good. c’mon in, doll. since you’re so… busy and all.”

his large hand snakes down and settles on the small of your back. and before you can even think to resist him—give this all a second thought—suguru is shoving you through the threshold and slamming the door closed. leads you to the sofa, with his warm hand still tight around you.

and you can’t help but feel like he’s closing in.

you can smell him in the air, that unique, signature scent of him: smoke, spice—something musky. his palms glide with an indescribable possessiveness along your waist and down your hips as he nudges you to sit. his breath hot along your cheek as he leaves little room between you both. makes himself comfortable in the dips and arches of you; meshes his skin to yours.

your head begins to spin.

and he notices this. of course, he does.

plug!geto’s grin is all teeth now. wolfish. amused as he leans closer, forces your thighs to squeeze together. your shoulders to curl.

“you nervous, doll?”

“no.” you lie. but it comes out too quickly. lands flat.

“mm.” suguru hums, unconvinced, and a heavy hand smooths over your shoulder. drags down your arm. “you sure? you’re practically shakin’.”

your breath catches. you hadn’t event realised…

he laughs at that. and it comes low. rumbles. his free arm reaches forward for something, and it’s then you notice the pre-rolled joint on the coffee table. just how deep in your head are you?

“let’s take the edge off yeah? help you forget that busy life of yours.”

suguru brings the joint to his lips, fishes a lighter from his trouser pocket, and you watch as the tiny flame licks at the tip. makes the paper crackle and shrivel as it burns, glowing a fiery red as he takes a slow, deliberate pull.

“b-but there’s only one.” you squeak.

a deep exhale, and suguru’s eyes are on you. his grin never faltering. “what? you gotta problem with sharin’?”

he offers it to you.

“c’mon, doll. you’ll be less uptight.”

you hesitate, and suguru’s grin stretches. miles long, you think, if even that.

“c’mon, doll,” he coaxes again, tapping the joint against your lips, the lingering heat of it a near ghostly kiss. “don’t tell me you came all this way just to get shy on me.”

the worst part? he’s right. you did come a long way. tried to steel your nerves for almost an hour, paced outside his building as you debated whether you should go home or not.

(you should’ve. you really should’ve.)

it shouldn’t all be for nothing. you shouldn’t waste both your time, right…?

before you can think, your mouth parts, eases open just for him. the filter presses against your lips, tasting of ash and something unmistakably suguru, and you inhale, slow and tentative, the burn blooming in your lungs before settling deep within your bones.

it feels good—too good. makes you feel nothing yet everything in some….indescribable sort of way.

“atta girl,” suguru murmurs, watching you through heavy lids. his voice drips with something rich, thick and syrupy. he plucks the joint from your fingers to take another long drag before he blows the smoke right into your face.

you barely register the sharp pull of his hand on your jaw until your head tilts back, your body pliant under his touch. his fingers press, firm and possessive, as he exhales into your mouth. the smoke curls past your lips, seeps into your lungs. hot. overwhelming.

your mind fogs.

he watches as you swallow it down, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “there you go,” he soothes, thumb stroking the hollow of your throat. “you always take what i give you so well, don’t you?”

the room tilts. or maybe it’s just you.

you blink, slow and heavy, warmth pooling in your limbs as a lazy kind of heat starts to spread through you. it’s the weed, but it’s also him—the way he looms, the way his touch lingers, the way his words slither beneath your skin like a secondhand high.

“feelin’ good, doll?”

you nod, dazed. “y-yeah.”

suguru chuckles. “that’s what i like to hear.”

his hand begins to drift lower. off your arm now, skimming your thigh, fingers teasing the hem of your skirt. testing.

and you—hazy, pliant, needy—don’t stop him.

he notices. of course, he does.

and he gets ready to take his payment.

“come up here, doll. it’ll make it easier to sure the weed.”

the weed….sure.

but when he tugs you forward, you go without question.

suguru guides you onto his lap with ease, like he’s done it before—like you slot against him like some missing puzzle piece, fitting perfectly wrapped around him.

his hands find your hips as if on instinct. thumbs stroking slow, soothing circles—but there’s nothing soothing about the way his grip tightens. keeps you right where he wants you.

“good girl,” he murmurs, low and approving. “knew you’d listen.”

your thighs spread to straddle him, knees pressing into the sofa, and the position is… compromising. intimate . his body heat sinks into yours, the thick scent of weed and something musky filling your lungs.

your head spins.

he holds the joint between his fingers, tapping the ashes into the tray beside him, before bringing it back to his lips for another deep inhale. his gaze stays on you the whole time—watching, assessing, waiting.

you swallow. thickly.

his free hand slides up your spine, slow and deliberate, stopping just beneath the nape of your neck. he tilts his head, eyes brimming with want, lips curved into something that’s not quite a smirk, not quite a smile.

“open.”

you hesitate for just a second too long.

his grip tightens.

“c’mon, doll,” he coos, a stone-like hardness to his tone that has you straightening atop him. “you were so eager before. don’t go gettin’ shy on me now.”

heat prickles across your skin, shame curling low in your stomach, because he’s right. you shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t crave it, but you do—you really fucking do.

so you part your lips, obedient—good—and his smirk widens.

“there’s a good girl.”

he exhales slow, measured, a thick cloud of smoke curling from his lips and past yours. it’s hot, intoxicating, thick enough to make your lashes flutter and a soft groan to escape you. his fingers flex against your nape as he watches you swallow it down, approval humming deep in his chest.

“see?” he murmurs, thumb stroking lazily along your throat. “ain’t so bad, huh?”

you nod, dazed, the warmth pooling low in your belly now sinking deeper.

his other hand—still heavy on your hip—skims beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers toying with the band of your panties. testing. asking (but not really).

and you don’t stop him.

“fuck,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “knew you’d be easy for me. feelin’ good, doll?”

his fingers dip lower, teasing against your damp heat, running along your folds—and you shudder. the weed has settled deep, makes every touch feel heightened—like sparks licking across your skin. needles pricking.

“i feel—” you let out a whimper. “fine.”

suguru grins. all slow satisfaction, like he’s won something. like he’s known all along how this would go.

“that’s what I like to hear.”

and then his fingers push past the fabric, finding you soaked.

a deep, pleased groan rumbles in his throat as he presses in, spreading you open, testing just how ready you are. how needy you are.

“shit, doll,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the slick. “you this fuckin’ wet just from smokin’ with me?”

your face burns, and he chuckles.

“hey, don’t get shy now,” he purrs. “not when you’re so fuckin’ eager to let me take what’s mine.”

suguru’s fingers tease at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, dragging slick warmth over your folds. he’s toying with you. that much is clear. drawing out every little tremble, every tiny catch of breath, watching you unravel bit by bit.

“fuuuuck, doll,” he groans. “you’re practically drippin’. makin’ a mess all in my lap.”

shame pools low in your stomach. and you lift your hips to move, but suguru is gripping your hips and pulling you back down.

“don’t.” his grin widens as his fingers leave you, moving to grip your other hip instead.

“c’mere.”

you barely have time to register it before he’s shifting beneath you, pressing you down against the thick hardness straining against his sweatpants. a choked sound catches in your throat as the pressure sparks through you, heat curling sharp and insistent between your thighs.

suguru groans, low and drawn out, fingers tightening as he pulls you even closer. “fuck,” he mutters. “you feel that, doll?”

you do. god, you do.

your breath stutters as he rolls his hips up, slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him through the thin fabric separating. it’s too much, yet somehow not enough.

and he knows it.

“that’s it,” he coaxes, his voice smooth and syrupy, thick with approval. “go on, baby. give me what i need.”

it’s humiliating how easily you give in. how naturally your body moves with his, grinding down, chasing the friction that makes your head spin. every slow drag of his cock against your clothed cunt sends another shiver rolling through you, pleasure licking up your spine, twisting tight in your gut.

suguru watches, heavy-lidded and satisfied, drinking in the way you melt against him. “fuckin’ knew it,” he mutters, mostly to himself, dragging his hands up your back. “knew you’d be like this for me.”

“w-what does that mean?”

“delicious.” he coos, thrusting his pelvis up to meet yours.

your hands find his shoulders, gripping tight, needing something to ground you as he keeps moving, keeps working you over the thick length of him, rolling his hips just right, just enough to make your thighs tremble. your cunt weep.

“you like that, doll?” his voice is teasing now, a purr in your ear. “ridin’ me like you’ve been thinkin’ about it since last time?”

a whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it.

suguru grins, pleased. “yeah? you gonna cum just like this? just from dry humpin’ me like a needy little thing?”

the worst part is that you might.

and he knows this. knows you.

he can feel it—the way your body tenses, the way your breath catches, the way your hips stutter like you’re on the edge of something devastating.

you lose your strength and fall into his chest, panting and moaning in his ear as your hips rock back and forth into him.

“c’mon, doll,” he murmurs, voice smooth, coaxing. “be good for me. let me feel you.”

and just like that, you break.

pleasure crashes over you in slow, shuddering waves, a choked moan spilling from your lips as your body clenches, thighs trembling around him. the friction, the heat, the intoxicating push and pull—it all swallows you whole.

suguru groans, grinding up against you one last time, dragging out your pleasure as his hands stroke slow, soothing patterns down your back.

“f-fuck,” he mutters, breathless, lips brushing your temple. “knew you’d be perfect for me.”

you can’t even respond. can’t do anything but collapse against him, skin fever-hot, body weak. the high lingers thick in your veins, pleasure still buzzing beneath your skin. high and blissed out.

suguru chuckles, lazy and satisfied, fingers trailing along your spine as he helps rock you against him slowly. “make sure you answer my texts next time, pretty girl.”

Why does all the eden fan art I see look like Pedro pascal to me

I don't see much Eden art and when I do the man is far too ripped and therefore I don't like it. Now the Pedro Pascal looking art I need to see....

jimmy who’s been working on your high school as a janitor, by curly’s recommendation no less. the blonde is a respected math teacher and why not help his poor friend who can’t land a job? jimmy even promised to try his best!

jimmy who keeps cleaning the floor just as the girls pass by with their uniform skirts, and then he gets the reputation of a creep. the principal hears about it, but curly vouched for his friend, it must be a mistake!

jimmy who sees you, sitting all alone and crying in the bathroom during lunch break and oh fuck that’s his opportunity right there. he sits by your side and claims that you’re worthy (he’s looking at your legs) and that you are much better than whoever is making you cry (he’s looking at your tits) and that anyone would be lucky to have you (he’s looking at your lips)

jimmy who keeps watching you and offers you a ride home as you get out of class, saying that you can trust him! he helped you, after all, didn’t he?

jimmy who puts his hand on your thigh, who now knows where you live, who now is watching as you walk to your door and god damn he must have a kink for those skirts because it look so pretty against your skin

jimmy who makes a habit of giving you rides and one day is raining and he says he can take you to school (he was already waiting for you when you stepped out of your house that morning). jimmy who is now claiming that hey, nothing is free in this world, surely you weren’t that stupid? jimmy who is now saying that look how much he spent on gas and the LEAST you could do was give him a blowjob. jimmy who is now stopping at a empty street, locking the car doors and grabbing your hair and bringing your face to his crotch.

jimmy who came to school later than usual. curly walks by jimmy, asks him what took so long. jimmy simply shrugs and says he had to stop at the road because of the heavy rain.

you don’t go to school that day.

I can’t stop thinking abt Wakasa getting jealous over you texting another guy, but the situation is no strings attached and no one catches feelings, heheh /// cw include. fem!reader, smut, use of marijuana, possessiveness, unprotected sex, creampie and etc.

“Send him a picture of us in bed together.”

“What are you talking about?” You giggled, your eyes glued to your phone and your thumbs tapping away on the screen.

“Whoever it is that you’re texting,” Wakasa says, “send ‘em a picture of me and you in bed together so they’ll stop texting you.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Are you jealous?”

Wakasa chuckles softly, reaching over to the dresser by his bed and pulling out an already rolled up blunt. “Wouldn’t you be if I was lying naked in your bed and texting another girl?” He questions, putting the blunt in his mouth and lighting it up.

“I guess I would.” You replied and Wakasa only hummed in response. Afterwards, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you passed each other the blunt, that was until you spoke again, breaking the silence.

“Are you falling for me, Waka?”

“Heh,” he chuckles, “guess I am.” He smiled at you and you swear he’s so pretty, like a rare majestical beauty.

You then crawled on top of him, naked. “I knew you couldn’t handle me.” You said, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his soft lips, but out of nowhere Wakasa flips you over on your backside. His hand caressing and holding up your thigh, and his face dangerously close to yours.

“Are you saying it’s wrong of me to want you to myself?” He questions.

“Says the guy that was so adamant on keeping things casual and no strings attached.” You replied, wrapping your arms around Wakasa’s neck and kissing his lips. “Do you remember the first time we did it?”

“Like yesterday.” Waka muttered.

“Did you really mean what you said, or was that a way to get into my panties?”

Wakasa chuckled softly and licked his lips, “I meant every word, pretty thing.” He murmured in your ear, nibbling and licking your earlobe.

You used all of your energy and strength to flip Waka over on his back, straddling him in the process. “Don’t tease me, Waka!”

Wakasa began to laugh as if it was the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Such beauty, you thought. He then started drawing circles on your hips, “g’nna ride me? I’m pretty tired from earlier.” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes once more. “You’re always tired.” You said, moving your hips slowly back and forth on his cock. You’re still wet from earlier activities, so you’re practically leaking.

You grabbed his cock and began to stroke it before sliding down on it, moaning in the process of being stretched out. Before you could even start moving, Waka stilled your movements with his hands on your hips.

“Don’t go too crazy, a’ight princess.” He said with a smirk.

You leaned forward, kissing his jaw and lips, “but I want to make you feel good too.” You whispered.

Wakasa chuckled, “heh, you’re so cute, y’know that..” he stated, “but I’m still sensitive from earlier, baby.” He’s now caressing your cheek with his thumb.

There goes that funny feeling in your stomach again.

You grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach. “You give me butterflies all the time,” you said smiling softly, “so is it okay to say that I might’ve fallen for you as well?”

Wakasa licked his lips, his cock started twitching inside your wet warm cunt. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world right now,” he said, “so say it, say that you’re my girl.”

You bit your bottom lip, “I’m your girl.” You murmured.

And that was it — instead of you going crazy, Wakasa was the one that lost himself inside of you, completely falling more and more for you every time his cock slid in and out of your cunt — milking him for everything he’s worth and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. <3

author’s note. this is the worst drabble/fic I’ve ever written. BYE!!!