God I Hate Anxiety So Much Like It's So Inconvenient. 90% Of The Time I’m Anxious, Its Bc Of Some Dumb

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠/ 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫)

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 (╥╯^╰╥) 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐦𝐠.

Viktor had always been terrified of this moment. He could lecture for hours about the intricacies of hextech, dissect complex equations in his sleep, and manipulate delicate machinery with perfect precision. But this? This was an entirely different realm of knowledge—one he had never properly studied, never experienced.

And yet, here you were. Naked, warm, and soft beneath him, looking at him with so much love and want that it made his head spin. His heart pounded so violently against his ribs that he was sure you could hear it.

His fingers trembled as they traced the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight as if he were afraid you’d disappear. His golden eyes roamed your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the softness of your stomach, the way your legs were spread just for him.

“I—I do not know if I can do this properly,” he admitted, his voice breathless, shaky. “I do not want to disappoint you.”

You smiled, reaching up to cradle his face. “You won’t, baby,” you whispered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. “We’ll go at your pace.”

His cock—hard and aching, flushed a deep, desperate red—throbbed against your thigh, leaking precum onto your skin. He twitched every time he shifted, overwhelmed by even the slightest friction. You hadn’t even touched him properly yet, and he was already panting, already trembling like a leaf.

Your hand slid down between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his cock, and Viktor whined.

A high, broken sound punched out of his chest, his hips jerking forward on instinct. His cock twitched violently in your grasp, so sensitive that just the slightest movement had him gasping.

“Oh—ohhh,” he choked out, forehead pressing against your shoulder as he struggled to hold himself together. “I—I do not—ahhh—”

You stroked him slowly, teasing his tip with your thumb, smearing his precum over the flushed head. He twitched again, another helpless little whimper spilling from his lips.

“Feels good, baby?” you cooed, kissing the side of his face.

Viktor could only nod frantically, breath coming in quick, desperate pants. “T-too good,” he admitted, his voice wrecked, almost pained with how much he needed more.

You guided him between your legs, his cock pressed against your soaked entrance. The moment he felt your slickness, his entire body shuddered, another whimper escaping him.

“You wanna be inside me, don’t you, Vik?” you whispered, voice dripping with sweetness, teasing.

He groaned, hips jerking forward on instinct. “Yes—yes, please,” he gasped. “I need—”

You lined him up and guided his cock forward, pressing his tip just barely inside your cunt. The sensation was immediate, electric—hot, wet, tight.

Viktor sobbed.

A loud, broken moan tore from his throat, his body convulsing as pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave. His fingers dug into your hips, his thighs shaking so hard you thought they might give out.

“Ohhh—ahhh—fuck—” His voice cracked, his body tensing. “It—it is too much—I cannot—”

“Shhh, baby,” you soothed, running your fingers through his damp curls. “Breathe for me.”

He gasped against your neck, struggling for control, but the heat of your cunt was unbearable. You were gripping him so perfectly, pulling him deeper, sucking him in, and he was so fucking sensitive.

His hips twitched, his cock sliding another inch inside, and he whined—high-pitched, desperate, needy. “Ohh—ohhh, I am going to—”

“Not yet, baby,” you cooed, gripping his waist, steadying him. “You can take it, I know you can.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, shaking as he pushed in deeper, inch by inch, his thighs trembling with effort. “I—it feels—” His breath hitched, another broken moan slipping out. “I do not—ahhh—”

You stroked his back, whispering soft reassurances. “You’re doing so good, baby. Just relax.”

He let out a shaky breath, finally burying himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing wildly, twitching like he was already on the edge. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes squeezed shut, his body tense with the effort of holding himself back.

And then you clenched around him—just a little, just enough to tease—

And Viktor broke.

“Ohhh—ohh, fuck—” His entire body spasmed, and before he could stop it, before he could even think, he was cumming.

Hard.

His hips jerked forward uncontrollably, burying himself even deeper as his cock throbbed violently inside you. A desperate, strangled sob tore from his throat as he spilled, hot spurts of cum flooding your cunt, painting your insides with thick, messy ropes.

He tried to keep moving, tried to fuck you through it, but his body betrayed him, his strength giving out as he collapsed against you, panting, trembling, his cock still twitching, still pulsing inside your warm heat.

“I—I did not mean to—” His voice was high, weak, breathless. “I—it was too much—”

You kissed the top of his head, still stroking his back, soothing him. “It’s okay, baby,” you murmured. “You did so good.”

Viktor groaned softly, still catching his breath, but when he shifted, when he felt the wetness between your thighs—his own cum spilling out, mixing with your slick—he whimpered.

“I can go again,” he mumbled, voice wrecked, needy. “Please—I need to—”

You smiled, already feeling his cock harden inside you again.

“Good,” you whispered, nipping at his jaw. “Because we’re not done yet.”

Viktor was still trembling, still trying to catch his breath, but his cock was already hardening inside you again, twitching with oversensitivity. His golden eyes were glassy, his curls damp with sweat, his face still flushed a deep, helpless red.

“I—I can do better,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse, wrecked. “I can—I can make you cum“

“You will make me cum, baby,” you whispered, kissing his temple, your fingers running through his curls, tugging gently at the roots. He whimpered at the sensation, his hips twitching instinctively, pushing deeper inside your still-soaked cunt.

He gasped, gripping your waist tighter, trying to keep himself steady. “Fuck—I do not know how.”

You smiled, shifting beneath him, grinding your hips up against him. He sobbed, his entire body jolting, his cock throbbing violently inside you.

“I’ll teach you, baby,” you cooed, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him in place. “You’re gonna fuck me, and I’m gonna show you how to do it right.”

Viktor nodded frantically, desperate to please, to learn, to be good for you. He braced himself on shaking arms, his fingers digging into the sheets beside your head.

“Move, baby,” you urged, guiding his hips with your hands. “Slow at first.”

He let out a shuddering breath, pulling back slightly, his cock dragging against your soaked walls. The sensation made him whimper, his thighs shaking, his body instinctively wanting to rut deeper, faster—

But he listened.

He thrust forward again—slow, tentative, testing.

Then again.

“Ohhh—fuck—” His breath hitched, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You are so—so tight—so warm—”

His rhythm was shaky, unsteady, but he was trying. His brow furrowed in concentration, his lips parted as he focused on the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock, the way you clenched around him, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.

You kissed his jaw, whispering encouragements. “Just like that, baby. That’s so good. Give me more.”

His hips snapped forward, a little harder this time, and you moaned—really moaned.

Viktor’s eyes widened, his entire body jolting at the sound. His breath hitched, his cock throbbing at the realization that he had made you do that.

He wanted to hear it again.

He did it again.

Harder.

Your moan was louder this time, your fingers tightening in his hair, your nails dragging down his back. Viktor whined, his body shuddering as pleasure coiled tight in his stomach.

“Oh—ohhh,” he choked out, his hips moving faster now, more desperate, more eager. “You—you sound so perfect“

You clenched around him, and Viktor yelped, his rhythm faltering as he nearly came again right then and there.

You smiled against his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his damp skin. “Faster, baby,” you urged. “Fuck me harder.”

Viktor groaned, dropping his forehead to your shoulder, his hips snapping into you, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the air. His cock was so thick inside you, stretching you perfectly, hitting deep with every messy thrust.

“Like—like this?” he gasped, voice high, desperate.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned, rolling your hips up to meet his. “Just like that. You feel so fucking good, Viktor.”

He let out a breathy, needy moan, his pace stuttering, his body already on the verge of unraveling. He was learning, but he was still so fucking sensitive, and every squeeze of your cunt made his eyes roll back, made him whimper and shake.

“I—I am—I cannot—” He let out a frantic little sob, his cock twitching violently inside you. “I will—ahhh—will not last—”

“You’re gonna make me cum first, baby,” you purred, reaching down to guide his hand to your clit. “Rub me right here—just like this.”

He obeyed immediately, his fingers moving in hesitant little circles. The moment he felt the way you jerked, the way your breath hitched, he whimpered, his cock twitching at the knowledge that he was finally making you feel good.

“Ohh—Gods” he gasped, rubbing faster, trying so hard to be perfect for you.

“Yes, baby, just like that—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts turning messy, frantic, desperate as he chased both your pleasure and his own. His whimpers became full-fledged whines, his body shaking, his fingers clumsy but eager as he worked your clit, his cock pounding into you so deep—

And then you clenched around him—

And Viktor lost his mind.

He sobbed, his entire body convulsing, his cock throbbing violently inside you. “I—I—ohhh, fuck—”

His hips faltered, and you took over, gripping his waist, forcing him to keep fucking you, forcing him deeper, faster.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you commanded, your voice tight, on the edge. “I’m almost there.”

Viktor whimpered, completely at your mercy, letting you use him, letting you take what you needed. His body was too weak, too fucked out to resist, his arms barely holding him up.

And then— “Fuck—Viktor—”

You came. Your walls squeezed him so tight, so wet, so perfect, and Viktor screamed, his hips jerking wildly as he came with you, his body locking up, his cum spilling deep inside you in thick, desperate ropes.

His vision blurred, his ears ringing, his mind blanking as waves of unbearable pleasure overtook him.

He barely registered himself whimpering, barely noticed how he collapsed onto you, his body completely boneless, his arms too weak to support himself.

All he knew was you.

Your arms wrapped around him, your fingers running through his damp hair, your lips pressing soft, soothing kisses to his temple.

“You did so good, baby,” you whispered, voice filled with love. “So good for me.”

Viktor sobbed softly against your skin, his entire body twitching, overstimulated, wrecked. “I—I can’t—” His words slurred together, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. “Too—too much—I—”

“Shhh,” you soothed, cradling him close, rocking him gently. “I’ve got you, baby. Just breathe.”

Viktor clung to you, whimpering, his cock still buried inside your fluttering cunt, his body completely spent.

And for the first time in his life, he felt truly, utterly satisfied.

this so gojo coded

18+ mdni; gn!reader

yuuta gets so flustered whenever you sit on his lap – he just doesn't know what to do with himself:((((

you're laughing alongside with maki and nobara, your back to your boyfriend; your hips glued to yuuta's and the poor boy feels like he's on fire. he's trying so hard to focus on anything other than your ass right on top of his cock but it's simply impossible. it's taking him everything to keep listening to the conversation between yuuji and megumi; his eyes trained over your shoulders, on the way your lips stretch wider and wider with every word that tumbles from nobara's mouth. yuuta's glad you're having fun.

but he wishes he was having fun, too. how could he be if he's a breath away from popping the fattest boner right in front of his friends? a deep blush settles across his nose and his cheeks and he just hopes that the other's won't notice.

his impatient fingers dig into your waist and you immediately turn to him with wide eyes, making yuuta regret his decision to do so. you ask him whether he's okay, whether he wants anything and he feels like a proper pervert – you're just trying to make sure he's enjoying himself while he's here, thinking about how wet and warm and tight you'd feel around his aching cock.

shivers run up his back when your hand finds the back of his neck, fingers twirling in the dark strands of hair as you quip a sweet little 'hm?' at him. yuuta lets his eyes close in a desperate try to get his shit together. puppies, kittens, flowers. he has to think about anything other than you. bed, candy, kissing. fuck, that's not–

yuuta's eyes crack open the second he feels you wriggle your hips. just once, but it's enough to send another wave of blush all over his body. and the situation only gets worse when he sees your sticky, honeyed smile. oh, you know exactly what you're doing.

swiveling your hips again, yuuta's fingers sink into your waist almost painfully, his pretty lips parted as he mouths a 'please' at you. the need pooling in his eyes makes you giggle, catching the attention of your friends again. you turn back to them with a big grin, your body melting deeper into yuuta's while continuing on with the conversation as if nothing happened. as if you can't feel how hard your boyfriend is.

an almost silent whine brushes the shell of your ear as yuuta tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his face heating up even more when he hears you defend him by saying that he's simply tired. he tries to get a bit more comfortable by spreading his legs but that only makes you sink lower, closer to his bulge. yuuji calls out to him and he dreads raising his head from the comfort of your skin, knowing that if the pink-haired boy doesn't notice his pained face then megumi surely will. fuck, you're killing him – still smiling wide, you wriggle your hips every time you laugh, freely torturing your sweetheart of a boyfriend.

but he can't even be mad, can he? he loves you, and he loves when you do stuff like this. he's harder than ever and feeling a little dirty for being like this; pre-cum stains his boxers while he's sitting here with his friends. he knows you'll tease him for it later, too. call him pathetic, call him cute.

he's never been more excited to go home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* thinking about college!yuuta, who mustered up all his courage to finally ask you out on a date. you remember the way he had flushed this pretty and soft pink, all the way up to his ears, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he asked if you were free on friday night to go check out that new movie you had offhandedly mentioned a couple days ago. "i—i got a spare ticket if you wanted to come join me."

you had smiled, eagerly accepting the invitation and watching, satisfied and curious as the rest of his body seemed to turn into this most adorable shade of pink. "great! i'll... i'll pick you up from your dorm!"

friday night comes, and even the slightest of touches seems to set him off. when you go for a hug upon greeting him, he's flustered and flushed, mind short-circuiting with the way you hold onto him enthusiastically.

it becomes sort of like a game, at that point, to see how far you can go, to see just how pink your yuuta can become.

fingers brushing against his in the popcorn bowl leads to a furious blush blooming across his face. nuzzling your head into his shoulder during a particularly scary scene, and you don't even have to look to see he's fighting down his emotions. you hear him mumbling your name, all breathless and bewildered.

to your delight, he's just as sensitive and pink everywhere else. much later, sucking marks into that beautiful column of his neck, borderline clambering on his face with need as he tries to ground himself to reality by holding onto your waist, your neck, fuck—

he knows he's a goner when you slide your hand down his pants, and that wicked smile of yours comes back with a ferocity. "someone's been excited."

you slip his pants down his legs and fall to your knees, and you didn't think he could've possibly gotten more flustered, but your next words may have just sent him into cardiac arrest.

"s'pretty and pink, yuuta," when you look up, your beautiful boy is gripping onto the side of your bed with white knuckles, entranced and pupils blown wide at the way your voice tinges with need. your mouth waters. "wanna give me a taste?"

strained

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary · a typical night of lovemaking with your boyfriend takes an untypical turn when you decide to accept rather than decline an incoming call from his best friend.

content · NSFW MDNI, dom!bottom!reader, sub!top!armin (ft. the amazon position, my beloved<3), sub!eren, a pinch of eremin, phone sex (sort of), praise, degradation, humiliation, elements of exhibitionism and voyeurism, pet names (darling, sweet thing, baby), laughter, banter and bad flirting during sex, intended as an armin x reader NOT an eren x reader (reader just bullies eren the entire time lol), reader and armin fuck nasty while eren gets off to it basically

wc · 4.7k

notes · hello! i haven’t written smut in a hot minute lol. this has been sat in my drafts for months but i finished the rest in the last, like, day lmao. anyway, this is DISGUSTINGLY self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy! <3

Armin’s phone buzzes on the bedside table, screen lighting up with the name of the caller.

Usually, he is always quick to answer, only one, two rings max, but that’s a little hard to do considering you’re currently fucking any and all sense of self right out of his body.

Nonplussed, you reach for the vibrating phone, a smile forming when you read the name of the caller. You slow your movements to a stop too, which finally pulls Armin out of the foggy daze he’s in, enough for him to recognise his ringtone.

Before he can voice the question, you tell him, “It’s Eren.”

Armin swallows the drool that’s gathered in his mouth. “I’ll– I’ll have to call him back.” He gently squeezes your thighs, bracketing his own, and groans. “Later,” he adds softly as his eyes flutter shut, unable to stay open.

Alluring as your boyfriend is, so vulnerable and open, with his sweaty skin shining like honey in the dim light of your bedroom, your mind is unable to resist wandering... Replaying all the conversations you’ve had with Armin about your shared attraction to Eren, the transparency in Eren’s own reciprocated feelings, the lingering stares, the hard gulps, the ‘platonic’ flirting...

Your fingers tiptoe up his chest, a playful gesture, not uncommon for even the bedroom, but still it piques Armin’s interest enough for him to reopen his eyes. “Why later?” you muse, grinning like a fox. “Why not now?”

As if processing your words, Armin blinks, hard, then parts his lips to reply, but words fail to reach his brain, much less his mouth. And so he stares at you, like the unspoken answer couldn’t be any more obvious because it couldn’t. Armin is quite clearly busy right now, and he’s sure that whatever reason Eren has for calling him can afford to wait, at least until he’s– well, finished.

...But you don’t seem to agree.

You go ahead and offer the phone to him as if it’s commonplace to do so in these circumstances, and Armin’s eyes widen, his lips part and close again, but he makes no further effort to protest or stop you.

“It’d be rude to keep him waiting,” you say, “and if you don’t hurry, I’ll just pick up for you.”

A few seconds, a pause, drifts into place then; a chance to decline the call or say the safeword or just do anything to show that he doesn’t want to continue — but Armin just chews on his bottom lip, eyes casting down, indigo under the shadow of his lashes, and it’s all the answer you need. You’ve always loved that about him; he may look and act like a blushing virgin, but here, with you, he can’t help being your dirty little pervert.

With a satisfied smirk, you accept the call and hover it over Armin’s ear. Your boyfriend catches his breath, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, you’re resuming your actions from before and knocking that breath back out again.

“Fucking finally,” Eren’s playfully exasperated voice crackles through the phone speaker. “Thought you were never gonna pick up, dude. What took you so long? You always answer on the second ring.”

Armin glances at you, as though you might be able to supply him with a believable enough excuse for his behaviour. Despite those puppy eyes, you know he doesn’t need your help — not that you’d give it to him if he did, though. You enjoy seeing him struggle a bit sometimes. How could you not, when he always makes the cutest expressions? And besides, diamonds can only form under pressure, right? So all you do is give him a small, encouraging flick of your head. Go on. Answer him.

Armin takes a deep breath. “S–sorry,” he starts. His sweaty palms nervously massage the flesh around your hips. “My phone was, um, in– in the other room.”

“More like in another building,” Eren jokes and chuckles to himself. Armin probably would have laughed too, if he wasn’t so busy trying to keep his voice in. “Anyway, I just wanted to know if you’re still down for drinks on Friday? We never actually made official plans and usually you get back to me by now but– well, I know you’ve been busy so I thought I’d, y’know, call and check.”

You notice Armin regaining his bearings at the reminder of his plans with Eren, and out of jealousy or sadism, or perhaps a bit of both, you lift yourself up, until the tip of Armin’s cock is on the brink of slipping out of you, and forcefully drop back down.

Your poor boy barely manages to capture the noise he makes behind his hand in time, the other leaping up to claw at your shoulder. His face screws up, eyes and lips squeezing tightly, but you don’t stop there. You lean over to his sensitive neck to nip and kiss the already marked-up skin, all the while making fast, shallow thrusts. The lewd sound of your motions, definitely audible to Armin and potentially to Eren, makes Armin’s cheeks fill with blood. Behind his hand, he suppresses another sound.

“Hello? You still there?”

You’re lucky enough, for whoever’s sake, that Eren is as oblivious as he is.

“Yes,” Armin says, trying to stabilise his breathing. “Mm– mhm! Friday sounds g–good, yeah.”

Unfortunately, Eren is not oblivious enough.

“Is everything, uh... okay? On your end?” Eren asks, and perhaps to anyone else, it would have sounded like a genuine question, but having known Eren for a while now, almost as long as Armin, you notice the uncharacteristic quiver in his voice — one that seems less concerned and more nervous.

You hand Armin the phone then, confusing him for a moment as to why you suddenly decided to give it to him. He’s about to speak into it, to respond to Eren, but that’s when you lift up again and drag Armin down the bed by the legs, a faint noise of surprise escaping him, before raising them up so his knees are pressed to his chest.

He tries to regain his composure despite the compromising position. “Uh, yeah, I’m–” But then you’re sinking back down on him completely, and he moans out at a volume that a part of him hopes Eren doesn’t hear — but that another, more significant part of him hopes he does.

“I’m okay,” he finishes, a little high-toned and not much louder than his moan from seconds ago.

“Are you sure?” Eren’s voice cracks. He hurriedly clears his throat. “Cause you, um, you– you just sound...” He laughs awkwardly and you know in an instant that you’ve got him right where you want him; that his relaxed demeanour is being tested, chipped away at by Armin’s suspicious sounds and staggered speech.

As if on cue — you still aren’t sure if it was on purpose or not — Armin moans again, louder this time, so that it’s painfully unmissable. The curse word Eren mutters under his breath right after is a little less unmissable, but you’re much too hyper-aware from the adrenaline and endorphins to let it slip past you.

You take the phone back again. “Pretty, right?” you say, right into the mic, and you physically feel the way Armin shudders at your intervention, how his sweaty skin grows goosebumps all over.

There’s silence on the other end, but you aren’t so easily discouraged.

“Don’t back out now, Eren,” you insist. “Go on, finish your sentence. You were about to say that Armin sounds pretty, right?”

He remains quiet for a few seconds longer. Only his breathing is audible, so you can hear the way it shakes, the way he licks his lips. “Something like that,” he mutters, voice dry.

You hum. “And I’ll bet his sounds have made you really hard, huh?” The muscles in Armin’s thighs helplessly jump under your weight. “Bet you wanna touch yourself to them, don’t you, Eren?”

On the opposite end of the phone, Eren’s breath hitches. His face is unbearably hot, like lava under his skin. He and Armin are close, sure. Always have been. They’ve done some things together before, when drunk, lonely or just curious, but this? This is different. You’re here now, and something about your presence has Eren’s thoughts fizzling into static.

“I asked you a question, Eren,” you say, stern yet somehow casual, bored, as if such authoritative phrases came naturally to you — and suddenly Eren is hearing Armin’s name in place of his, imagining you and Armin in different scenarios, in ways he knows he should never imagine his best friend and his partner, yet which could never be so vivid with anybody else. Images of you fucking Armin, pulling his hair, looking down at him with a misleading merciful gaze; Armin tied up, gagged and blindfolded, with erotic toys strapped to his body, like the girls in those porn video thumbnails Eren typically avoids; tears on pale cheeks, big blue eyes with fair eyelashes, a pink tongue and two fingers sliding across it, deeper and deeper into a gagging, o-shaped mouth.

Then those eyes melt into sea green, tears form on dark lashes, slide down skin slightly more olive-toned, past a jaw that’s more defined...

Eren combs his fingers through his loose hair, trying to catch the breath he didn’t realise was getting away from him.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and answer me?” you urge further at Eren’s skeptically long silence, with a smirk that’s wide enough to be heard in your voice. “Or should I just hang up and leave you to take care of that boner all on your own?”

Eren lets out a small — very, very small — and involuntarily whine, so subtle that if it wasn’t for the vibrations in the back of his throat, he might not have realised he made it, or that it came from him at all. He wants to argue — “Boner? What are you talking about? Don’t be so full of yourself.” — but he doesn’t need to glance down to know you’re right.

“D–don’t hang up,” Eren says, curt and a little unsteady. Humiliation rises in him like hot air at the sound of his own desperation, oblivious to how he’s playing right into your hand.

You smile, absentmindedly caressing Armin’s shoulders and torso, a wordless way of reminding him you’re still paying attention to him, but also a silent demand to stop squirming. “So bossy,” you say, like you’re scolding a child. “A ‘please’ would be nice, you know.”

The true nature of your words swells under the surface — an underlying threat. Not everything is as it seems in the world, and this is not just a suggestion or a statement, nor a throwaway thought that you happened to voice out loud. This is an order.

Whether or not Eren obeys, however, is a different story. He casts his gaze down to his lap, where the outline of his hard cock is visible through his sweatpants, along with a dot of precum, soaked through two layers and much too soon for what can be considered normal. He wonders what you would say at such a sight, what kind of expression you’d make — but that simple wonder is really just yearning in disguise, and Eren decides then, that complying is the only way he can get remotely close to satisfying that yearning.

He couldn’t disobey if he wanted to — and he really didn’t want to.

So, “Please,” he finally says. Less reluctantly this time.

“Atta boy!” you chirp, though only in a partially condescending tone. You’re sure that given Eren’s personality, he’d typically be fighting back a little more, flashing a bit more attitude or snark, but — whether it’s you, Armin, the situation or some combination of those things — something must have his head too clouded with arousal to try denying himself this.

Beneath you, Armin whines.

You turn your focus back to him. “Is my boy getting impatient? Or jealous, maybe?” you tease, caressing the apple of his cheek with the backs of your knuckles.

His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your touch and whines again, further back in his throat, but loud enough that you’re certain his phone still picks up on it. “Please,” he says, delicately, as if trying to find his voice, or perhaps the courage to speak at all.

Armin is unfortunately your weak spot and with Eren at your disposal, to mess with and be cruel to, you lack the heart to tease your lover any further.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you, darling.” You lean down and kiss him gently. “I’m here, I’m listening. Tell me what you need.”

His face glows pink; he hesitates.

You catch on.

“It’s okay, don’t be shy,” you soothe him, petting his hair. With your other hand, you make the calculated decision to bring the device closer to your mouth. “Eren needs to know how to be a good, obedient boy, after all–” You trail your fingers down the contours of Armin’s cheek to his chin and tenderly hold it– “and who better to demonstrate than you, my sweet thing?”

Across the line, the breath suspended in Eren’s throat, that he’s been holding back in fear of interrupting the scene he feels so ashamed for listening to, suddenly sputters out of him like gas out of a clogged car exhaust. Because, fuck, he was not prepared to hear you say his name just then. To suddenly make it personal; to swing open the door on this private, intimate, closed-door moment between you and your boyfriend, his best friend.

He wasn’t but he should have been. He’s heard and witnessed enough about your dynamic with Armin, as well as fallen victim to your friendly bullying and teasing himself, enough to know you’re not somebody who passes up an opportunity to see a person scramble and fluster. He should’ve known better than to think he could get away with being a passive player in this game of yours; that it was only a matter of time before you dragged him back, by the collar and leash you managed to lasso around his mind in the short duration of this call, and threw him out on the playing field as an active participant instead of a mere spectator.

Sure, you can’t actually see each other, but the phones in your hands are a constant reminder that every word comes with a plural audience and every miniscule sound may or may not be audible to the other side. That alone does its wonders, but here you are the gamemaster and you wield the power to do more; to take matters into your own hands, to bend, knead and shape them to your will. And you’re no amateur; you know exactly where to sink your fingers, how much pressure to apply and when to press harder or let go, so that you have not one, but two pliant putties in your palm.

“Now...” You sigh and shift your position on Armin’s cock. It garners the exact reaction you were aiming for — a warbled moan — and one that will surely leave its mark on the third pair of ears in the room with you. “Let me and Eren hear what you need, baby. Show us how a good boy uses his words.”

Armin sucks in his bottom lip and inhales a steadying breath through his nose. “I...” He swallows. “I want you to move.” His eyes, though hooded, noticeably drop to where the two of you are connected. “I want you to– to fuck me ‘til I can’t think. Please?” His voice is high, desperate, quivering. Clammy hands paw at your thighs. “I just can’t– I can’t take it. I can’t take waiting anymore, I need– I need you to fuck me and make me come, I need– y–you, I need you, please.”

A shaky groan interrupts through Armin’s phone.

You smirk, let the noise steep in the silence you make for it, to marinate in your own satisfaction, so he might think, for just a moment, that you didn’t notice, before leaning into the speaker.

“Eren,” you say innocently, and you think you hear a sharp breath in response, “I hope you’re not touching yourself right now.”

Nothing. Only background noise.

“You’re not, are you? You know that would be bad, right?” you continue. “And worse, if you lie to me about it.”

All you hear is a quiet exhale and the distant hum of what might be the AC.

You lower the phone. “Tell him why it would be bad, Armin.”

Armin’s eyes never once leave yours as he answers, “Because you didn’t give permission.”

“That’s right.” You smile at your boy and stroke his hair in approval. “Be honest then, Eren,” you resume. “Were you? Touching yourself?”

As you wait, you watch anticipation, glimmering with an edge of hope, grow in Armin’s eyes.

A heavy breath. Then, a low, gravelly, guilty, “Yeah.”

You emphasise your disappointment with a long sigh. “Mm. See, this is exactly why Armin has to set an example for you,” you reprimand, your hand still brushing over messy blond hair. “He’s doing you a favour and you’re not even paying attention? Just getting distracted by your cock like that’s all you can think about?” You drop a lock of hair that you were twirling around your finger. “It probably is, isn’t it?” you scoff. “God, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

Excitement passes through Eren like a tidal wave. His hand is still resting over his crotch, fingertips over his balls and palm under the head of his cock. He doesn’t quite understand why he’s so smitten by your words nor why he craves to hear more of them, but he does. And he’s willing to chase after it — to do anything, really — if it means he’ll get more.

“Hands off your dick, Eren.”

Another order, this one large and unsympathetic, leaving no room for doubt or defiance.

His hand retreats, shamefully, as if you were really there, as if you had caught him red-handed with your own two eyes and are now observing him to make sure he does as he’s told.

“I don’t care how hard you get or how bad you want to come. Your full, undivided attention stays on this phone call and nothing else,” you explain, as if you’re just talking about the weather. “Have I made myself clear?”

Eren swallows and hums his affirmation before quickly correcting himself.

“Yes.”

And unbeknownst to you, he has to cut himself off at the polite honorific that almost follows, the same way a person might catch themself about to call their teacher ‘Mom’. Somewhere in the firm, instructional tone and the ease with which you hand out commands, it felt like a natural addition, but not one that Eren, nor even his already dwindling dignity and pride, are ready for.

But rather than bestowing him the praise, the infamous pet name that you’ve been taunting him with, for his agreeable behaviour, you grace Eren with no more than a simple clinical, “Good,” and an air of finality followed by a thunk as you set the phone on the nightstand.

When you sit back to face Armin, with his hair all mussed, cheeks flushed and lips tinted red from constant worrying between his teeth, you’re unable to suppress your grin.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Armin grins back, full of teeth and that pinch in the corners of his eyes that you love. “Hi,” he returns with a chuckle. You steal a quick kiss amidst the soft laughter before hooking your thumbs behind the back of Armin’s knees and rocking forward and up. You both sigh with the movement, then again, when you move backward and down.

Armin’s head lolls back into the pillows, unfurling a column of pale skin before you. “Fuck,” he gasps out. His hand slaps down over one of yours and the other digs blunt nails into your waist.

You move again. Faster.

“Oh, fuck–”

Again. Harder.

Another cry, another expletive.

Hearing, seeing, experiencing your boyfriend rapt with ecstasy and useless to conceal it fills you with a glee that borders on manic.

“I love your reactions so much, Armin,” you rasp; a confession you’ve made countless times, every time, but that never fails to make your beloved blush. “And I love that they’re all mine. You’re so perfect, I love you so much.”

His next stream of sounds melts on your tongue as you kiss him eagerly. “Always so pretty and vocal,” you say in the breaths between yours and Armin’s panting mouths. “So good for me, aren’t you? Only for me. Only me and Eren get to know you like this.”

You grind down into Armin’s erratic thrusts until you’re all but fused together each time you meet. Your hands roam; crawling up to cradle his jaw, dragging down to toy with his nipples, jumping to his legs and pushing until he’s folded under your weight and clutching your hair in a wanton fist.

You reluctantly part from him to return to a more comfortable position above him while Armin’s hands clamber to secure his knees in place for you — always aiming to heed your every whim, even the ones you don’t voice. Your own hands layer over his as you slow down, drawing circles with your pelvis. Steady, smooth, sensual. Savouring the feeling of being so close to him.

You long to be closer, still.

So you move yourself up, off his cock, push his legs down and back onto the mattress, help him sit up. The entire time, Armin is just gazing up at you with glazed-over yet still-adoring eyes, up until you’re straddling his lap and he registers what you’re doing. Then he becomes your grateful devotee, chanting a breathy chorus of ‘Yes’s and ‘Thank you’s and encasing you in his arms as you welcome him back inside you. You hush his sweet cacophony with the hungry embrace of your lips, catching whimpers and fragments of love declarations, as you ride him with fervour. Every so often, you slow down and tease, just to prolong your unified bliss, but the sporadic fluctuations drive Armin insane.

He makes a noise like he’s overjoyed and on the verge of sobbing at the same time. “You’re– fuck, you’re so good to me, I love you, I– ah, shit, I love you so much!”

In Eren’s grip, the back of his phone is damp with his sweat. He’s addicted to the sound of you and Armin, the words you share, the moans you make together. He wants you both so carnally yet he couldn’t be happier than where he is now, forced to clench slippery fingers around the fabric of his sweatpants, far from where he’s aching for relief. Entirely dependent on his imagination to pair images with what he can hear. It’s cruel and heavenly. The more it drags on, the more he’s convinced he could come right there in his briefs. Untouched.

“Can– can I come? Please? I’m so close, I– I’m losing my fucking mind,” Armin babbles against your neck.

You nuzzle his temple while your fingers rake through his undercut. “Me too, let’s– let’s come together, okay?”

Armin nods frantically against your skin until tears breach the barrier of his waterline and he’s coming inside you with a muffled moan. You’re right there with him, head thrown back as your hands form fists in Armin’s hair. His arms, enveloped all the way around you, squeeze you from the tension of his full-body orgasm before falling slack at your sides.

As Armin slumps against the headboard, you catch your breath and reach for the phone. Over the sounds of pleasure earlier, you couldn’t tell if the line was silent or if your little voyeur of a friend had hung up. You’re pleased to see his name still aglow on the screen.

“Enjoy the show?” you quip. Though the unfitting conversational lilt to your voice throws Eren for a loop, that’s not why he chooses to remain quiet. Compliant as he’s been, he refuses to indulge your ego any more than he has to — but you expected that, so you simply move on to the question you did want answered.

“Did you keep your hands off your cock like I told you to?”

Armin perks up at that, curious as you are about what the answer will be. With bated breath, you both wait, but the tense silence is disturbed by Armin’s phone vibrating. You are about to ignore it until you recognise the sender of the message — and notice that it contains an attached image. Your eyebrows arch up your forehead at the bold gesture, but you tap the intriguing notification nonetheless.

Nestled just below the last exchange of innocent messages with his best friend, is a photograph of Eren Jaeger’s hard cock, straining against grey boxer briefs and lewdly framed by a circular patch of damp fabric.

“This is what it looks like... without you touching it?” you say, wearing a shit-eating smirk that is sure to translate into your tone.

“Yes,” Eren hisses through gritted teeth; a hybrid of embarrassed frustration and the ever-present need for release.

You giggle and show Armin the photo. “He sent us a fucking dick pic, Armin, can you believe that? Our little show must’ve really done a number on him, wow.”

The subject of your appraisal sighs and shakes his head at your mocking antics, but by the size of his pupils you can tell he isn’t unaffected by the image.

You take another look at it, but the most you feel is amused. “Barely even touched himself and he’s got a precum stain that big, that’s hilarious,” you snicker.

As though he can sense Eren’s humiliation through the phone (it’s quite palpable, really), Armin mercifully defends him. “He’s been good though, right?”

Disappointed by Armin ruining your fun, you pull a face. “I guess.” But then, struck with an idea, it morphs into an impish grin and you lean forward, hand on his chest, as you exaggeratedly purr, “But not as good as youuu, babycakes~”

“Pfft!” Armin pushes you away half-heartedly. You relent and manoeuvre around him. “God, that is terrible. It’s like you’re not even trying,” he jokingly criticises, but cups your face as you lean in to kiss him anyway. You decide to nip his bottom lip and tug at it, still feeling playful, but when you part, Armin is staring at you with an intensity that warms you more than a harmless joke should. You kiss him again, a little harder, a little longer. Breathing a little heavier.

“Can...”

Right. You almost forgot you have company.

With much reluctance, you tear your focus away from your boyfriend. “Mm, what is it?”

Eren hesitates for a second before asking, “Can I, um, touch now?” His desperation is evident in the gruff quality of his voice. “Please?”

All too familiar with what you’re like, Armin gives you a pointed look and mouthes, ‘Be nice.’

Rolling your eyes, you take a moment to think, then say, “Send us a video of you edging yourself three times and I’ll think about it,” before tacking on a quick, “See you Friday!” and abruptly ending the call.

Armin stares at you in shock for a few seconds, then shouts your name scoldingly. “I told you to be nice!”

You gasp and cover your mouth in faux-alarm. “No way, is that what you said? I totally thought you were saying ‘mean ice’, that’s so crazy how that got lost in translation...” You keep your mouth covered to hide your growing smile.

Armin frowns at you, or tries to at least; he ends up smiling too. “You’re so mean sometimes.” He lightly pinches your cheek. You swat away his hand. “I ought to keep you in check more.”

You scoff and snake your arms around Armin’s neck. “You wouldn’t dare. I know you like it when I’m mean.”

Armin mutters a small, “Only in moderation,” that is meant to be assertive but gets lost somewhere under the scope of your bewitching gaze. Even though you’ve been dating for years, he still falters in moments like these. Too adorable.

Giggling, you seize his lips in a kiss — one that is only the prelude to the sequel of your passionate night ahead.

talking to @minkdelovely about how we all are just so unhinged and I wanted to say that people are always so quick to be rude and jump to negative conclusions and bully people online because of the safety of anonymity

but my interactions with our little horny deer cult and larger tumblr HH community has been the opposite? The most unhinged kindness and praise and lifting up of people???

anyway here’s a thank you while I read your comments but don’t reply yet because I’m trying desperately to get the next part of A Doe in Fall out; I will reply though! 🙏

Untitled Rutting Alastor x fem bunny reader fic preview

warnings; breeding kink, pussy out and about, cum, kinda size kink, almost sorta degradation kink but honestly he’s stating facts

Me at age 13, exhausted at school after staying up all night to read fanfic: I can’t wait until I’m an adult and I can stay up reading without any consequences!

Me, an adult, exhausted at work after staying up all night reading fanfic: Fuck.

Fushiguro Tojo doesn't bottom(or does he?)

cw: degradation, mean! toji,nsfw content, bunny's humor. 1.6k

“You wanna what?”he drawled, speech muddled by the toothpick hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The room was warm, the light dimmed and candles burning. You were kneeled behind him, massaging his shoulders and peppering the back of his neck with kisses. 

“Wanna have a little fun with you”you purred, leaning forward so your chest was snug against his back and your lips were brushing the shell of his ear. 

“Scared of a little finger, Toji?”you goaded. You could feel his scowl through his skull. 

“Ain’t scared of shit”he muttered, groaning as you dug your nails deeper into his tense muscles. 

“Shiu’s been working you”you hum, letting your hands wrap around to run your nails along his pecs. His breath hitches as the sharp tips catch on his nipples. 

“Getting big, Toji”you purr, rubbing the brown nubs until they pebble beneath your fingertips. You feel a rough hand grabbing yours stopping you in your tracks, pulling you forward over his shoulder for you to see unamused green eyes. “

You know better”he rumbles, running his thumb along the pad of your hand. “Leave my chest, girl.” You sigh fully letting your body slump over his shoulder.

“Can’t touch your tits, can’t finger your ass” you grumble, “just say you hate me,” you feel him chuckle more than you can hear it. His shoulders bouncing slightly, jostling you just enough to be mildly uncomfortable. 

“If I ever say I hate you”he says, tugging a little harder causing you to topple over his shoulder onto the bed in front of him, starfished and disoriented with two gleaming eyes staring down at you. And a stupidly handsome smirk. “You better kill my ass”he finishes, bringing one of those big hands to rub your cheeks. You huff, moving languidly to reorient yourself. 

“Then let me play with your ass,”you say, a pout forming on your lips. “I’ll be gentle–”

“Baby–”

“Toji”you press, leaning up to squish his cheeks between your hands. He let out a growl and leaned forward to bite your fingers.

 “Paws off the merchandise”He says, practically ripping your fingers off his face. “Ain’t no dog to be petting”

“You’re right”you say, “You’re more of a cat”

“Girl..”he warns. 

“A big cat”you placate rolling your eyes, “like a panther”

“Panthers ain’t nothing more than glorified kittens”he huffs.

“I’d like to see you take down a panther then—wait”you narrow your eyes, “don’t change the subject, take your pants off”

“Cute”he chuckles, “you demandin’ things from me, girl?”

The mood seemed to shift in an instant, his eyes darkening, tracking what seemed to be everything about you down to the beat of your pulse. Your breath hitches when he leans forward, crowding so close that you lean in for a kiss but end up on your back, caged between two strong arms. Toji leans down, his breath fanning over your lips, his eyes lidded and heavy and wanting.

“I’m gonna ask you again”he whispers, smirking at the tremor that ran underneath your veins. It was like he could taste your adrenaline.

“Were you asking, or were you demanding me?”

“I plead the fifth?”you say.

“So cute”he mumbles, running his nose along the hollow of your neck. “If you wanted me to fuck you so badly, you should’ve just said..”he grips the inside of your thigh tight, prying your legs apart. “Askin to finger me…”He chuckles, running his finger along the front of your panties to rub at your aching clit. “Poor little thing just wanted some attention,” he pulls your panties to the side, running the pad of his fingers along your folds, ‘Mama’s been purring for me this whole time and I didn't even know.” “Poor baby”he purrs, letting his finger slip inside your cunt. “she’s cryin’ for me”

You gasp at the feeling of his rough fingers prodding at your hole, only having a few seconds to catch your breath before he’s plunging them inside of you. One hand pressing down on your tummy to keep you from squirming. He’s looming over you, his fingers curling roughly against that sweet little spot.

“Breathe”he croons in your ear, biting on the lobe of it. He’s pushing harder on your tummy and you take in a shuddered breath, feeling the pleasure wash over you in waves that seemed almost tidal.

“Toji”You moan, gripping at the large hand splayed over your tummy, digging into the flesh as an anchor. You can barely hear yourself over the sound of the blood rushing to your ears. The squelching of your cunt background to the sound of your moans.

“T-Toji”you whimper, gripping his hand harder, trying to hold onto your original goal. 

“W-want..want..”

“Want want”he mocks in your ear, cruel and biting as he adds another finger; his pace brutal.

“Always fuckin’ want somethin’ girl, like I don’t give you the world.” he punctuates his words with a particularly rough thrust, soothing your cunt with a fat thumb on your clit. Through blurry lashes you can see his eyes glisten with a dangerous gleam.

“Tell you what,”he muses, pushing his thrusts but still rubbing languidly at your clit to soothe your whines. “You last more than five minutes, and I'll let you play with my ass. Good deal, girl?”

It would be a good deal, a great deal even if you weren’t already close. You played a lot of losing games with Toji but this had to be his cruelest one. A frustrated tear slips down your cheek and he has the nerve to laugh, his sharp canines on display as he licks the tear off your cheek.

“What?”he teases, his fingers slowly but surely continuing their assault. “Not even gonna try?–

oh, y’er squeezin’ around me already? What’s got you so worked up, hm?”

What’s got you so worked up? You wanted to murder him, take that stupid pistol sitting in the bedside table and bust a cap in his ass.

“What is it, girl?”he whispers, curling his fingers again with the intent to ruin you. The pads of his fingers rubbing against your g-spot in tandem with the thumb on your clit.

“Hm?”he hums, “what’s going on in the pretty little head?”

“T-Toji”you choke out, your thighs trembling.

“Thinkin’ about me?”he intones, “y’er pretty little fingers in my ass? Sluttin’ me out an’ makin’ me your bitch?”

His thumb on your clit presses down a little harder, his own breath trembling a bit. You begin to shake your head but the hand on your clit quickly snaps up to grab your head and nod it manually.

“Don’t lie to me, girl”he grins ferally, “you want me face down, ass up on this bed for you moanin’ like a bitch”

The heel of his hand drilling into you slapped against your clit in the most delicious way.

“T-Toji!”you cry out, tears continuing to roll down your cheeks.

“That’s it”he coos, “my girl’s close, isn’t she? Always knew you were a freak but this is new”

Your face burns with humiliation, the feeling intertwining with the arousal deep in the pit of your stomach, sending your careening head first into an orgasm. You don’t know how many minutes it’s been, but if he kept fucking talking then there was no way you were going to last.

“Please”you beg, for what you don’t even know. He shushes you, pressing his lips against yours, with him this close you could see the flush on his face and the knit of his brow. This was turning him on just as much as you.

“Quiet, girl”he mumbles, sucking sloppily on the hollow of your neck, “you know i’ll always get you there, just let this pussy speak t’me”

He’s closer now, his cock rubbing against your hip roughly. “P-pretty little fingers just wanna fuck me”he grits out. 

Your jaw drops a bit and your back arches.

 “a-and i’m the freak?”you pant out, “yet you can’t stop talking about it?”

His eyes narrow and that’s the last thing you see before your vision whites out and your cunt is gripping his fingers like a vice, cum dripping down his arms like honey. You tune back in moments later to his eyes screwed shut and his jaw slack and he’s cumming. You could feel the thickness of it seeping through the front of his sweats onto your thigh where he was rubbing. The only difference was it seems like he kept cumming. He wasn’t a very vocal lover, but he was moaning, biting down hard on his bottom lip to muffle more of the sluttier sounds. You hadn't even realized when you gripped his chest for comfort, your fingers were rubbing against his nipples and he was liking it.

It seemed like he kept cumming forever before his hips jerked for a final time and he collapsed on top of you. Damn near two tons of man crushing your body into the mattress. You could feel his heart beating through his chest, his breathing was shaky when even a full day of cardio couldn’t affect him.

“So..”you pant, running a hand through his damp hair. “Gonna let me finger you next time?”

You felt him mumble something against your shoulder that sounded familiar, but you needed to be sure.

“Come again?”you tease. He pulled his face away from the crook of his neck and he was scowling but he was red.

“I said maybe”he grumbles, his fingers leaving your cunt to pinch your clit meanly.

“An’ stop being a brat before I make you cum again.”

“You say that like it’s a threat”you giggle, soothing your fingers over his scalp.

“And you act like that orgasm didn’ damn near kill you, girl”he chuckles, planting a kiss on yout shoulder. “Now stop bein’ a freak and sleep, ‘m fuckin tired”

“Oh so i’m the freak–”

“Sleep, girl”

hi guys! this is my first full length fic and I got bit by the Toji bug and he's been rotting my brain and my pussy for the past week so we've got this now. if you guys enjoy please be sure to rb,comment,leave a like or come yell at me! lmk if you wanna see more things like this as well.

How I feel after reblogging literally every hazbin hotel post I see: