STARFUCKER + You're The President Of Eren's Fan Club And Your Blog, Dedicated To Him, Gets Millions

→ STARFUCKER + You're the president of Eren's fan club and your blog, dedicated to him, gets millions of hits a day - earning you some sort of status. You've been working for him for months now, only to find out that he's not as kind as people perceive him but you don't care. Somehow, the thankless job is bearable so long as you can be around your celebrity crush all the time. Available on ao3.

CONTENT WARNINGS + afab reader, smut, mature language, explicit adult content, general submissive/dominant behavior, teasing, creampie, unprotected sex, degradation, humiliation, squirting, slut-shaming, seduction, dirty talk, cumming inside, vaginal fingering, praise, begging, dacryphilia, power abuse, cheating, filming, leaking sex tapes, revenge sex, lots of toxicity, enemies to lovers, reader is kind of a self-insert but still ambiguous, oral sex (m & f), masturbation (f) wc: ~ 10.5k

tags: @whotfsjay @shamviholic @bakugosgorl @levisjinchuriki @yesv01 @liliorsstuff-blog @dttouper @bloompompom @luvjiro @daisynik7 @holydayaria @ravereina @i-literally-cant-with-this @hehehehesthings @chocoyanchan @hinata7346 @r0ckst4rjk @d4ddies-wh0re @ploylulla @doestalker @misscathands @euvwia

taglist app + masterlist

I think this fic is SO out of line that I'm almost too afraid to post it on here. Its not worse than Public Enemy but it's super toxic. Honestly, please don't romanticize this behavior.

You hear the pair converse freely in the next room, rattling off random tasks and chores that need to be done in preparation for tonight's show and trying in vain to assign roles to one another. Eren’s voice is dead, monotoned, and clearly uninterested but Crystal continues rambling. Only when she realizes how futile it is to argue with him does she remember your existence. “Let’s just get her to do.” She muses.

“Y/N!” Your name in the form of a screech floats through the air, followed by the clicking of heels on linoleum. You know exactly who’s summoning you without even looking up. “Do you think you could you pick up Eren’s dry-cleaning? His concert fit should be ready by now.” Eren’s girlfriend approaches you, a fake smile shining in your face as she belittles your actual position in the singer’s life. It’s not your job to pick up his dry cleaning but she knows you’d never refuse service to your favorite artist, and she loves to exploit your devotion. She just loves to push your buttons.

All you can manage to do is lift the corners of your mouth into a begrudging smile and reluctantly grab your keys. On the way out of the building, you catch a glimpse of the man you idolize as he works at his desk, skilled hands typing away as he works on his lineup for tonight’s performance. He’s so focused and he’s wearing a set of headphones, so he hardly notices when his girlfriend opens the door to his studio to let herself back in after giving the leader of his fan club busy work.

Your devotion to the man has you doing these things, that most certainly aren’t your job, day in and out. He doesn’t even do anything to relay his appreciation to you and he never will. Why should he? If you don’t want to handle his miscellaneous tasks, you’re free to leave his orbit. You’re not on his payroll or anything. Getting to be around your favorite singer is payment enough. And, really, it would be worthwhile if you could do it all without his demeaning ass girlfriend bothering you all the time. She could easily hire someone else to pick up Eren’s dry cleaning (to get his morning coffee, to order his clothes, occasionally post on his social media when he doesn’t feel like it, walk his fucking dog) but there’s some kind of sick satisfaction that she gets out of assigning all the chores to you.

You almost understand her though. If you were her, you’d be annoyed with his fans hanging around him all the time with hearts in their eyes. The only excuse you have for being there is since you’re the owner of the most popular Eren Jaeger blog and all of his fans really care about your opinions. They follow you and read every article you post after his concerts, consume all your photos and content with diligence and maybe that online presence is what owns you a pass into his life, backstage to all of his concerts and the right to take care of his chores.

You try to make quick work of the remedial labor, not wanting to receive a text from the girlfriend to complain about you being slow. If you have to risk a grisly car wreck to please the artist, so be it. You can’t really help yourself, every Eren Jaeger-centric action you make is simply out of your control. That’s just the hold he has on you. You hazardously make your way through traffic like this out of loyalty.

And when you arrive back only to find that his girlfriend has flitted off on an influencer’s business, you’re happy to be the one that hands the burlap bag to Eren. His coldness is nothing new. It doesn’t bother you anymore. When he takes the coat hanger out of your grasp, your fingers touch for a split second, and you have to stop yourself from squealing right there in front of him. You receive no thanks for the futile task he let his girlfriend assign to you.

“Where’s Crystal?” You find the audacity to ask him, not particularly curious as to where she ran off to. You’re just looking for an excuse to get him to talk to you, to hear his voice. You just want him to say anything that’s addressed just to you and no one else. Eren gives you a sour look as if to say that you should know exactly where she went and reprimand you for asking such a dumb question. He takes the clothing into his changing room and slams the door behind him. A thankless job, indeed.

Eren’s girlfriend is posting photos every few minutes of herself at some... opening. You don’t really know where she had to go, that was more important than her partner’s concert – his lifeblood – but it doesn’t matter to you. You ignore the notifications from her insta as they pool on your phone and don’t take your eyes off Eren’s form. You’re behind him backstage but, as often as you find yourself staring at his face and studying his features, you can imagine how he looks while singing right now. He looks so attractive in the clothes that you picked up for him.

His grip on the mic is almost violent and the lyrics he shouts are no different. He’s let it slip once before – what most of his songs are about. His issues (borderline hatred) with his father are where he gets the inspiration for most of his music. And, sure, Eren may have been drunk when he told you that. He may have been feeling vulnerable when the two of you were alone after a previous show or maybe he was pissed because the girlfriend bailed on him minutes before he was set to go on stage. You don’t care if he confided in you because there was no one else around. Something about being the only person on the planet that knows such intimate information about Eren makes you feel so special.

There’s never been another moment like that since. Despite his drunkenness, Eren remembers what he said to you. You know he does. He remembers and he treats you differently than he did before he spilled his guts and cried to you (not that there’s a stark difference). You can’t bring yourself to wish that moment away though, no matter how he treats you now because of it. Thanks to that day, his music has been given an even deeper meaning to you. The spotlight you let shine on him is even brighter than it ever was. The pedestal you hold him on is even higher. No amount of coldness from him can change those feelings. You find it in yourself to break your eyes away from the singer for a split second and jot down little notes of import about his performance on your phone. Material for later.

The crowd’s roar dulls for you. A sense of intimacy washes over your headspace, creating a sensation of catharsis – proving that the concert is yet another religious experience. Their screams could never compare to the ones in your head. Moments like this make you feel like he’s only singing to you, like there aren’t thousands upon thousands of other people in the stadium all there because they love his music as much as you do; because that’s not possible. No one loves Eren as much as you do.

Without fail, once again, the world around you fades away and all that remains is the unbridled love you have for your favorite artist and the words of pain that he wrote to release his trauma; knowledge that only you have. The lyrics resonate deep within your soul, even though you can’t really relate to them. Sounds echo and triumph throughout the entirety of the stadium.

Eren’s voice is solely speaking to you right now, reaching places in the depths of your soul that only someone as magnetic as him could hit with such effortless notes. The connection you feel to him always flies right over his head as if he can’t feel it. And if he doesn’t, you suppose that’s okay for now. You’re not sure what event could be so important for a perfectly sane woman to choose over her long-term boyfriend, and you don’t really care. All you know is that, if Eren were yours, you’d still remain right where you are now and that’s right next to him.

Each lyric, song to song, seems to be infused with the complexities of your heart. You unravel there and then, tears flowing down your cheeks and smearing every bit of makeup you’d powdered on before. And, although you’d like to remain blissfully blind and allow yourself to try and take on the overwhelming connection between the two of you, you’re not ignorant to the reality that surrounds you.

You’re not the only one that cherishes Eren’s music. You’re just lucky. You can tune them out all you want but this building is filled to the brim with passionate and adoring fans, each with their own varying degrees of love for Eren Jaeger. They too have found solace in his words. And, to save yourself from hyperventilating over that fact, you retreat into your subconscious and pretend that all of this is just for you.

It may be tempting to believe that your love for Eren surpasses all the others, but you know he won’t reciprocate. He can barely be bothered to thank you for all your devotion. So why do you find yourself here so often? Why do you do this to yourself? How do you always end up backstage at his shows, giving him all your love, and on your knees sobbing for him? This objectively surreal experience doesn’t cheapen, doesn’t falter. Neither does your adoration.

You spend the Uber ride home floating on your own little cloud, completely boneless. Your brain makes moves for your body, as if you’re on autopilot. He brushed you off just as usual, but it doesn’t matter. Your heart still swells, filled with passion. You shower quickly, the day you just had flowing down the drain effortlessly and when you throw one of Eren’s old concert tees over your head, your legs carry your weight to the bed; anxious to sleep the euphoric concert high off.

All you can really find the energy to do, once you’re in bed, is own your Tumblr app to jot down a few notes and observations from the concert and infuse them with your own feelings – something that the Eren fans that follow your account have come to love over the years. The millions of them will be expecting a post from you pretty soon but there’s no way you can find the will to write paragraphs upon paragraphs, especially with the way that Eren dismissed you as soon as he got off stage.

Even with laziness in your bones, you can’t stop your rogue thumb from scrolling through your feed. You never can. One of your mutuals has been writing all day, leaving a feast of Eren fanfics for you to fantasize over. Your hungry eyes scan each and every word, consuming the smut to your heart’s content. It’s not long before you feel a neediness growing between your legs and it’s too hard to ignore.

You wanna scream out loud. Fuck, she’s such a good writer, you think. The AUs of Eren being your college classmate and corrupting you have this hold on you that you can’t explain, and this author is phenomenal at them. Your fingers travel between your legs and past the waistband of your panties before you can stop them. The knowledge that he’s really nothing like this in real life doesn’t matter at all to you.

The soft pads of your fingertips gingerly glide against your already sensitive skin. Down, down, down, further until you’re greeted with that tell-tale slickness. Eren’s fics never fail to elicit this type of reaction from your body and the guilt you feel for consuming it, even creating it, all while you work so closely to him in real life only drive you to allow your fingers to dive deep with your soft walls. You drop your phone, mind revisiting how you felt during the act of reading the fanfiction and allow your whines to climb in pitch.

All the times when you accidentally stood too close to the singer and could get hints of his cologne replay in your mind. All the memories when he’d say your name with that gruff voice of his flow throughout your brain. When your hands grazed his so that you could hand him the dry-cleaning bag – remembering the feeling of his feverish skin sends shockwaves through your body and it’s all too much. You feel your orgasm approaching fast.

The thought that really pushes you over the edge sends surges of guilt through your body but, when you remember the night that he was too intoxicated and vulnerable to stop himself from confiding in you about his trauma, you cum harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. The idea of him needing you to be there for him is almost too much to bear.

As you come down from your orgasm, the energy your actions have given you urge you to sit up in bed and reach for your PC – ready to write. Still, your article about tonight’s concert will have to hold. Your followers will understand. It’s not long before you’re in the dark of your bedroom, only getting light from your laptop and taping away at the keyboard. The smut flows out of your brain into word form like it’s nothing and, while it may take you some time, you post a quick oneshot on your side blog. This is not an uncommon activity for you. Far from it and you always post your smut under a completely anonymous name so that no one will know it’s been written by the president of Eren’s fanclub. You fall back into your duvet – the fresh smut on your blog, a thin sheen of sweat, and a dewy mess between your legs serving as the only reminder of your perversion.

The studio is silent, but it doesn’t' phase you. The only sound coming from the air conditioning unit next to you. You hung out at Eren’s studio all night, occasionally running an errand or two for him. His girlfriend didn’t come by, and he didn’t want to have to leave his work to get his own lunch or something. That’s what you’re for. The day dragged on into night seemingly in an instant. It’s been a while since he called you for something. You sight as you get up from your haphazard perch on the sofa and knock on Eren's studio door. You usually have to knock twice because he wears headphones when he’s working. You raise your hand to knock once more but the door swings open and you’re met with an irritated expression, your fist still raised in front of you.

Eren looks at you expectantly, still silent. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading out for the night. Do you need me to take care of anything else?” When you arrived at his workspace, you brought breakfast for him. In between stints of him staying locked away in his room, you brought him lunch. Now here you both are at nearly ten at night and he hasn’t bothered you for much else. “Dinner, maybe?”

Eren gives you a look that bothers you. It looks as if he means to ask you if you have anything else to do besides bringing him all three of his meals. He looks like he wants to tell you to worry about yourself. He could order food. You worry about the day he tells you that he doesn’t need you. It’s always burried beneath the surface. You know that day is coming. “No, just leave for fucks sake Y/N.”

Your idol looks at you with a disgusted expression and slams the door in your face. For a moment, all you can really do is stare at the surface of the steel door ominously shut in front of you. Never a thank you. Never a hint of gratitude. Bastard. Something in you snaps. The resolve you hold onto by the skin of your teeth cracks a little and you don’t stop yourself from banging on the door once more. Eren groans in frustration from the other side and swings it open, repeating his actions with a little more rage on his face this time. “The fuck?!” He shouts, looking ready to berate you.

His eyes are furious, clearly already dealing with being frustrated all day because his girlfriend is posting on IG all day about all the fun, she’s having without him while he’s working. Maybe you don’t make matters any better, hovering around him when he really doesn’t need you to be. That possibility rests neglected in the back of your mind so that you can get your words out, finally speaking your mind. “You know...” And you give yourself time to run over your words to be sure they’re exactly what you want. “You could be nicer to me. I do so much for you, and you never even thank me.”

Eren exhales, beyond pissed at you. He wishes he could fire you, but you don’t necessarily work for him. You’re not on his company’s payroll or anything. Neither he nor his girlfriend pays you for all the work you do for him. That’s what he finds so pathetic about you. You willingly get out of bed every morning with the intention of running his errands and playing servant to someone that doesn’t even want you around. What really pisses him off is that he can’t even kick you out of his life. He’s brought it up to his management. Can we do something about the annoying fangirl that’s always following me around, he asked in a meeting once.

It seemed like a fair question, but he was advised by multiple people to give you things to do until you got bored of him and found someone else to obsess over. Your blog is read by the majority of his fans. The popularity of your words, thoughts, and opinions isn’t lost on him. What would happen if he were outed for being an asshole to the girl that worships him and dedicates so much time to him and his career? God, he’d probably get cancelled or something. That knowledge of the power and influence you hold over him is not lost on him. It lingers in the back of his head but the words he throws at you in the moment are a product of him not thinking clearly – letting his annoyance control his every move. “I didn’t ask you to dedicate all your time to me. You chose to do this, Y/N, so I really don’t owe you any gratitude.” He shouts once more.

The logic behind the fact that he didn’t ask you to do anything you do for him, therefore he doesn’t have to thank you, is bullshit. How hard is it to say thank you to someone that gives you all of their time? That devotes it all to you so selflessly? You do more than his worthless girlfriend does! “That’s not true!” You have to refrain from stomping your foot. You feel your body heat up. Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how you’re feeling. Confusion scrambles your thoughts. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

It’s not that you did anything wrong. He never wanted you around from the beginning. From day one, Eren knew that he didn’t want to be the type of artist that had stupid things like fan clubs. He knows that it isn’t your fault that he feels this way but, at this moment, he doesn’t care. You act like a Make-A-Wish kid, and he finally speaks his truth, not caring how harsh he might sound. “I just don’t want to deal with some starfucker all the time!” His tone carries throughout the sound booth that you’ve both stepped into and, to say the accusation hurt your feelings, would be a real understatement.

You really can’t believe he just said that to you. Of course, you’re beyond attracted to him. Maybe you’re not so subtle in your jealousy of his girlfriend. Fuck, maybe you’re obvious. You’ve never crossed the line with him though. Inappropriate urges come and go, and you ignore them like a trooper because that’s just what adults are supposed to do.

“I’m not a starfucker!” You exclaim, annoyed that he assumes the worst of you and won’t even give you a chance. Your love for him is better than any sexual attraction there could be. Eren is more than that. You love his music. You love his heart and soul. The love you have for him would be just as strong without his body. Sometimes, you wonder why you worship Eren. He’s never given you a shred of appreciation for all of the love you give him – not that you feel like he should reciprocate. It’s almost as if he goes out of his way to avoid the words thank you.

His music is... otherworldly though and it speaks for itself. He’s talented and no one, not even you, can take that away from him. No matter how he treats the president of his fan club, he’ll never lack open doors in his life. There’s always going to be an endless line of women just like you to worship the ground he walks on, and he knows that. You’re not sure why you feel the need to fruitlessly defend your intentions to him. “I'm… your biggest fan." He’s never going to believe you anyway.

“What’s the fucking difference.” A rhetorical question but your head swells with answers, all proving your innocent intent. Eren turns to seat himself back at his work desk, an indication for you to leave him alone without another word. The self-defense you keep rattling off is hard to stop though. You can’t help yourself.

You finally snap. “Not everyone wants to fuck you, Eren.” It’s... a lie. You’re lying right now but he doesn’t have to know that. Your service to him, the blog you run, everything that you’ve done to further advance his career, comes from an innocent place.

He chuckles and pulls his headphones from around his neck, dropping them on the soundboard in front of him. He’s not entirely arrogant or full of himself. “I know that.” He mutters under his breath before standing to his feet and towering over you. His voice chills and he steps towards you, so close that you can smell his cologne. “But I know you do.” More arrogance pours out of his mouth. He speaks as if he knows with absolute certainty that you hold sexual attraction for him. This side of him would be so unattractive if he weren’t completely right.

That’s the thing though. He’s not just being his arrogant self. Eren is speaking like he knows he’s right and your heart drops at the realization. “H-how?” As if that word alone isn’t a direct indication of his intuition. He doesn’t break eye contact with you and the intensity between you grows. You begin to feel dizzy.

Eren sucks his teeth and exhales, giving a look signaling that he’s about to drop a bomb on you and before he even opens his mouth, you know exactly what’s really going on – why he’s so confident in his accusation that your intentions are less than pure. “Because I read your blog.”

Your heart stops beating for a moment, but you hide your shock well. You haven’t lost yet. You can still cover this up. He didn’t specify which blog. “Congratulations, asshole. Millions of people read my blog.” It’s not a lie. Millions of people read your blog dedicated to attending Eren’s shows, his daily routines, or whatever else you post. People like that type of stuff. No one knows that you run a second smut blog. You did so well when setting the account up, using a burner email to sign up and a burner phone number to secure the account. You keep them separate from each other and even use a fake pseudonym on the secret account. It’s airtight. He doesn’t know.

Eren’s next words shatter you though. Your entire online reputation flashes before your eyes, millions of instant likes that you usually get evaporate. Your verification and prestige will be worthless. Not to mention that Eren probably thinks you’re some perverted creep now. And Crystal would have a fucking field day branding you as a stalker for clout online. It’s over. Your life is over, isn’t it?

Your heart truly stops. “I know about your side blog, Y/N.” You’re genuinely concerned about dropping dead of a heart attack. Eren’s words go muffled even as he explains that he found it because you left your Tumblr up on a desktop around his studio after writing an article and he happened to glance at it before you could log off. What awful luck, you think. Truly, you’re angrier at yourself for not being more careful. His satisfied smirk is burned into your brain. Why shouldn’t he be satisfied? He caught you lacking and now you’re going to pay the price. “And I found your stan Twitter through it too.” Insult to injury, really.

The truth is all out in the open now though. Eren knows exactly what you think about him, what you write about him. He’s always known and never said anything, just looked you in the eye and lied to you for who knows how long. And when you reflect on the twenty-something fanfictions you’ve posted about him on Tumblr and AO3, you can’t be upset with him for growing to have distaste for you. Some of the kinks in those fics are too much. You get light-headed and almost let your knees buckle when your mind fills with the filthy words that he read about himself – all coming from your mind. “You read my...” But your words die on your tongue when you can’t even bring yourself to say it.

“Every time you post.” He doesn’t miss a beat, knowing the effect his words are having on your frail mind, knowing that your life is flashing before your eyes. You did notice a few weeks back that he’d get notifications form his phone around the times your scheduled posts would go out on your smut blog but never thought anything of it, writing off the fact that it was your fic going to his phone as something that was impossible.

Now you’re learning that it was entirely possible. The post from last night about how you got off on the idea of him writing music for you. You take a minute to soak in his confession, knowing that he’s won this argument, and your first instinct is to apologize and tell him that you’ll leave him alone – knowing how creepy your fanfic must be to him.

Eren lets you squirm, lets you cry a bit. You look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack, breathing uneven and erratic. He can tell that you’re really fucking humiliated and something in him likes that. Something in the way he sees you changes. You’re kind of cute; letting silent tears flow down your cheeks. He scrolled through your side blog for countless hours.

When you begin to struggle to get your breathing back under control, Eren lets himself visibly soften – intentions changing. He clears his throat. “You’re actually a good writer.” He provides a small compliment. It’s worth noting that your side blog is almost as popular as your main and his fans seem to love everything you write about him – even though it’s all smut. Who knew the meek little fangirl was actually a serious freak?

The panic attack bubbling up inside of you takes over and you begin bawling, shaking out of fear. “I’m so sorry, Eren!” Your tears streak across your cheeks. You don’t want him to send you away, unaware that he can’t actually do that. But you can’t really think of an excuse for being a fic writer to someone you know in real life. You know how it must look. Clearly, his compliment went in one in one ear and out the other since you don’t reference it – despite begging him for some kind of validation for months.

Eren does something that puts you in shock. He places his hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye, speaking softly as if he’s trying to take his words back after seeing the reaction, he achieved from you. He hushes you and tries to calm you down, never seeing you quake in fear like this and not liking it one bit – never been one to handle a crying girl. “Calm down, Y/N.” Eren exhales a deep breath and rolls his eyes at your hysterics.

To your credit, you manage to get your shit together on demand. The panic still buzzes unpleasantly just under the surface of your skin, and you can’t shake the feeling of dread. You hiccup, small sobs still passing between your lips. Eren’s large palms linger on your bare shoulders and the touch is as tender as you almost imagined it to be – as you wrote it to be. “I’m not upset with you.” He promises.

“You’re not?” You sniffle, voice croaking. Salty tears dry on your cheeks, and you find it in yourself to stare into the forest green eyes once again. Eren leans into you, testing your limits. Sure, you get on his nerves sometimes. It really pisses him off sometimes that someone like you can find it in yourself to accompany him throughout the journey of his career, but his girlfriend can’t. The devotion that fills your body when it comes to Eren doesn’t even come close to hers. Oftentimes he wonders if she’s just with him for status and the engagement ring he hasn’t found time to give her feels like it weighs a ton in his pocket right now.

In spite of the fact that he finds you annoying, he still thinks you’re a nice girl and your loyalty to him and his music is refreshing. Eren can respect that you haven’t really crossed any lines with him. You clearly channeled all of those feelings into fic, and he actually finds it... hot. Maybe he should go easier on you, he thinks. Maybe he should be kinder to someone that loves him as much as you do. “I’m not.” He confirms that he’s not feeling anger. Maybe he should give you what you want. Surely, you’ve earned it. “I actually... kind of like your fanfiction.” He speaks honestly.

Now you’re confused. That’s not even the word for it, really. There isn’t a word big enough to describe the distress you’ve gone through in the last few minutes. “W-what?” Eren doesn’t say anything else. He leans in and gives you a look, as if asking permission for something. In no universe would you ever refuse Eren’s request – even a silent one like this. You’re having a difficult time processing the new developments between the two of you. He’s really read all of your fics. He likes them. It’s unbelievable.

You nod your head and breathe in softly, giving into him. When he closes the gap between you with his lips, you have to fight the urge to pinch your arm to figure out if you’re having another one of those dreams again. He kisses you softly, hands leaving your shoulders and wandering down to your waist. And you let your instincts guide your actions. The two of you kiss softly for what feels like hours and you still let silent tears run from the corners of your eyes, keeping them hooded out of fear that he’ll disappear if you fully close them.

When he pulls away from you, Eren doesn’t say anything for a moment – seeming to gauge your reaction. He thumbs at the tears on your face, he smiles. “Why are you still crying, baby?” But you can’t bring yourself to part your lips. All you can do is stare at your idol in disbelief. Even though you work so closely with him, you would’ve never guessed that something like this would happen – not with his girlfriend around.

His girlfriend. Crystal. How could you forget about her and let Eren kiss you like that? Guilt fills you up and, even though you two hate each other, you’re not sure if you could be the type of girl that someone uses to cheat. Does Eren even like you? What a fucking stupid question. You know he doesn’t like you. Why would his feelings change all of a sudden? How does knowledge of your smut blog change things? Eren speaks faster than your thoughts move. “Why don’t you let me give you some new material to write about?” He whispers, hands never moving from your hips and pulling you closer to him. Eren smirks at your loss for words. Of course, you’re speechless but you don’t think you could sleep peacefully ever again if you passed up such an opportunity.

Eren’s asking if he fuck you. That’s the only thing you know to be true in this moment. You find it in yourself to nod your head to indicate your consent. He chuckles, leaning over you to flick up a light switch. It doesn’t illuminate the dim room you’re standing in, just turns on the do not disturb sign outside of his studio. He shuts and locks the door behind you.

Before you have a chance to register what’s happening, Crystal’s boyfriend is holding you close to him and kissing you with more hunger and passion than you’ve ever seen between the two of them. They kiss in front of you all the time by now that Eren’s hot lips are attached to your own, you don’t think they’ve ever shared a kiss beyond a peck in front of you. The idea thar Eren is kissing you with more passion than he does with his girlfriend turns you on more than anything in the world could.

Eren’s lips are softer than you dreamt they would be, softer than you wrote them as. Eren lets the kiss ease you into the experience. It’s not long before he pulls away from you and lets his filthy thoughts out into the world. “You gonna let me do what I want to you?” And you can acknowledge that he’s only asking you that because you’re such a big fan of his that you’re bound to say yes. He knows you too well; knows that you’d do anything to please him. Eren squeezes your hips, keeping your body close to him. You don’t have to say anything. Your idol knows the answer to the question already.

“And are you gonna keep it a secret? Not gonna post about it on your little blog?” That’s a harder promise to make but you agree. It’s not long before you feel Eren’s dick hardening against your thigh, as close as the two of you are to each other. He kisses you deeper; until you’re dying to breathe and, in spite of it all, you still can’t believe that this is happening. You thought that he had hate for you that would run too deep to touch you. More so, you always figured that his frivolous girlfriend was enough to satisfy him. Thank God you’re close enough to see the trouble in paradise for what it really is.

Eren backs up until he’s able to seat himself in the desk chair he’s always working in and pulls you along with him so that you’re carefully seated on his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his legs. You whine at the feeling of your spread legs against his clothed dick. His hands, sneaky sneaky hands, make their way from your waist up your body and pull your shirt up along with them, exposing your skin with every inch. Eren unclasps your bra like a pro, like he does it every day, and lets it fall to the ground. The simple action leaves you to wonder how often he and Crystal find themselves in this exact compromising position when you’re around. You figure that, if they fucked in his office, you would hear them, so you let go of thought go and focus on the moment. Your idol feasts his eyes on your tits when they’re finally exposed to his hungry gaze.

He seems to survey your expression, looking for any signs of unease, and when he finds that you’re only getting hotter and much more bothered with every passing second, Eren leans into your chest to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. His pleased hum vibrates along your sensitive skin when a resounding moan exits your mouth. You’re so easy to get riled up, really, aren’t you embarrassed? He wonders this as he watches you throw your head back, loving the feeling of his hot tongue lazily stroking your soft nipple.

Eren generously lets you rut against his clothed dick, liking the friction and loving the desperation in your whines. His jeans get tighter with every thrust, his cock gets harder with every moan. And soon enough you're both growing desperately. “Are you my biggest fan?” Eren asks, through moans and through mouthfuls of your sensitive flesh. He gropes you as if trying to commit every curve of your body to memory. He removes his mouth from your body and looks at you with all seriousness.

“Yes!” You cry, hips never slowing, movements never ceasing. You dry-hump Eren for as long as he allows you too – feeling the privilege of this action. You moan every word out and try to gulp, feeling a simple action like breathing becoming a chore; something you have to concentrate on.

Eren pulls you back, hands going back to your hips to control your actions. His eyes glaze over with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. And when he speaks up, the sternness of his words freezes you to your core. “Then get on your knees and fuckin’ prove it.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation. You’re careful when you climb out of his lap, still drunk from his kiss.

You ignore the ache when you get to your knees, fully submissive between Eren’s legs. Eren unbuckles his belt and allows his dick to spring free. He’s long but not lacking in girth, one prominent vein running along the length of the shaft and blushed at this tip – leaking precum already. A sense of accomplishment runs through your body like a shiver at the fact that you’ve already got Eren leaking.

He catches you staring and gives you a look as if to ask if you’re gonna suck it or just stare at it. Eternity feels like it passes, through your fingertips but soon enough, you find the nerve to allow your palms to make contact with Eren's dick, that doesn’t necessarily look like you pictured it to look. You sit up properly and hesitantly mouth at the crying tip, slit covered in salty fluid. It’s your first time giving anyone head and he can tell. You’re really no good and he’s not too shy to voice his dissatisfaction. “First time?” He asks, insulting you without even trying. “Thought you wanted to suck me off really bad, considering how much you write about it.” And he’s right. You do want to suck him off. Fuck, you really want to please him. It’s like second nature.

The corners of your lips sting as they stretch to accommodate his girth. Eren never wastes an opportunity to remind you that he knows all your secrets. You try to take him all in your mouth but cough a bit. He pulls you off his dick and makes you stop. “S’ okay. We’ll come back to that.” And he blames himself for not training you properly. Eren decides to focus on loosening you up so that you’ll be of some use to him.

Eren uses his large palm to pat a specific part of his work desk directly in front of him, signaling for you to take a seat on the exact spot. You obey, just as you would if he asked you to bend your body into a pretzel or something else just as impossible. “Show me what you do when you're thinking about me at home.” You look him in the eye, searching for some inconsistency. Eren is just as serious as he always is. Your legs spread on their own, minds of their own. You don’t bother pulling your panties off your body, settling of pulling them aside and exposing your glistening pussy to your idol.

He stares in disbelief, as if the idea of such a pretty pussy walking around him all day and him not knowing it is simply something that couldn’t be. Somehow, the experience of touching yourself in front of him isn’t embarrassing. You don’t get bashful easily – for some reason you’ll puzzle out later. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with Eren though, eyes settling comfortably on his palm that grips his still erect dick. Your fingers land on your own clit easily, not wasting time twirling it around and you find it in yourself to pleasure yourself quickly. You gasp. “Oh.” It’s shameless, really. So shameless the way you touch yourself fin front of Eren just because he demanded for you to do so but fuck if you care. It’s not long before you’re rubbing quick circles before his devious eyes.

You let your moans will the soundproof room, not caring how slutty you sound in the slightest. You waste no time moaning his name, loving the way it tastes in your mouth. Eren watches as you throw your head back and expertly rub your glistening pearl. “Look at me when you cum.” He demands, voice like velvet. He’s impossible to deny, sounding like that. You find it in yourself to look back at him and maintain eye contact.

He keeps his eyes on you, only growing achingly hard at the fact that you can take direction and obey him. That’s how you cum. You cum just as he ordered you to, playing your delicate clit and staring desperately into Eren’s eyes, as if you could cast a love spell on the singer with this method. “So fucking pretty.” Eren compliments you, giving you more of the praise that you craved from him for so long.

No longer thinking about self-control, the singer allows himself to scoot the desk chair closer to you and inch his face to your heated core. You task yourself with holding your soiled panties out to the way as Eren laps up the sticky mess on your core. Slurping sounds feel the sound-treated studio, music to both of your ears – he's tempted to put the symphony of pleasure in his neck album.

The desire to give you a well-deserved orgasm on his own overcomes Eren and he doesn’t stop himself from filling you with the six-inch long digits, finding your throbbing core instantly and earning a scream from the barrel of your throat. “You like that?” Eren asks as if your moans of pleasure aren’t answer enough. You grip the edge of the desk with one hand and let the other bury in his hair, feet planted securely on the wooden surface of the desk. This is better than any fanfiction you could possibly write. Saying that Eren lives up to expectations isn’t really fair because he makes it his mission to exceed them.

“Yes, Eren!” You cry, losing all resolve. He finger-fucks you until you’re hurdling straight into your next orgasm and flying to close to the sun. You cry out loud, sure that this room isn’t soundproof enough to hide that sounds of ecstasy he coaxes out of your parted lips. You want to assure him even more, assure him that he’s as good as he thinks he is. Nothing would make you feel better than to be able to inflate Eren’s ego.

“Say it then.” He demands, wanting more from you. Eren curls his fingers up, seeming to know exactly where your softest spots are within and taking advantage of the knowledge. Assuming that he has an ego to feed was a good instinct on your part. “Wanna hear in your fucked-out voice, baby girl.” For a moment, you fool yourself into thinking that Eren actually cares about your pleasure. You cry out, telling him whatever he wants to hear and using your hands to keep you secure on the table and begin to thrust your hips up to fuck yourself on his fingers.

No amount of degrading words flowing through Eren’s lips can mar this moment. You’ve written about doing these very things with him. You’ve dreamed about them and now it’s finally happening. You’ll cum for him as many times as he wants you to, no questions asked. “This is really all you needed, huh?” He chuckles. “Just needed to someone to slut you out really good.” You’re still thrusting your hips to meet his fingers and when you cum again, you squirt enough to leave yourself sitting in a puddle on the hardwood of his work desk. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by this though, almost proud that you can produce so much for him, proud of your copious amounts of arousal. “Look at the mess you made on my work desk, Y/N.” Eren teases, feigning annoyance and loving the borderline humiliated look that crosses your expression.

Still, you keep your legs spread and your leaking pussy exposed before his eyes until he tells you otherwise. You pant, tired from the concentration that had to go into focusing on yet another orgasm. Anything for your idol though. He scoots back a bit to take in the view, you all spread out and fully obedient for him – more devoted to pleasing him than anyone he’s ever met in his life. If he wasn’t so hard in his pants right now, he’d be terrified of you. “Can’t very well explain that to the cleaning crew, can I?” He pulls you up by your wrist to stand with your wobbly legs.

He doesn’t waste time asking if you’re into what he’s got planned. Eren just fists his hands in your hair and pulls your head back, fighting the urge to bite into the inviting flesh of your neck. You shiver at the warm breath on your skin. “Lick it up.” Eren’s words are cold. His demand is harsh. You let him manhandle you into bending over the wood of the desk until you’re eye level with your mess.

A deranged part of you wants to ask him if he’s serious but the more dominant part of you jumps to obey him, pushes that weaker side down and ignores it, neglects it until it finally dies. Your tongue graciously laves over the hard wooden surface of the desk that Eren works at every day, creating songs that reach the deepest parts of your soul. He stands behind you, eyes glued to you like a warden, staring in disbelief as you lap up every bit of your own juices. He can’t believe you really listened to him without a single word of question. Really, he’s wondering how he allowed himself to look over you all this time. You’re such a fun little toy.

Your phone chimes, interrupting your ministrations as you lap up every drop until a sticky layer of cum-coated saliva films wooden surface. The both of you unanimously decide to ignore the notification as he pulls you back up for another sloppy kiss. Perverted bastard. You love it. Eren lets his tongue overlay yours, tasting your own cum in your mouth and getting hard at the humiliation he’s putting you through – knowing that you like it.

He’s clearly pleased with the way you allow yourself to bend at his will, to be used by him and played with like a little sex doll. Crystal would never allow herself to be treated this way, but your clit is already throbbing at the idea of him degrading you further. He loves that you allow yourself to come out of your shell and watches closely as you kick your bottoms off from around your legs; fully exposing your body for him to rake his eyes over.

Without awaiting another order from the singer, you rest your elbows on the moist tabletop in front of you and bend over it to put your pretty pussy on display. Eren makes a pleased sound and fully removes his pants, matching you. He pulls his dick out and lines it up with your waiting cunt. Just before he grazes your slick entrance with his throbbing tip, your phone lets out another annoying notification. This time he spares it a glance but doesn’t let it break his concentration. It’s annoying him but not enough to take him away from you.

Your pussy sucks him in like a vortex. He inches himself into you slowly at first, worried that he might bust instantly at the feeling of you pulsing around him. And he tries to fuck you with his whole dick just as slowly, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him for the first time, but he can’t control himself. You can’t believe that this is happening. Your idol is bottoming out inside of you, fucking you with a growing urgency and beginning to moan as well.

He moans out loud about how good you feel, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering if you feel better than Crystal. You want to feel bad about wondering if you’re a better fuck that his serious girlfriend, but you can’t, although you don’t beg the question out loud. “You’re amazing.” You use your mouth for something other than moaning for once and give him some much-desired praise.

“That’s gospel, baby.” He kisses the back of your head, fucking you at the pace of a wild animal soon after. He feels so good inside of you, living up to the fantasy of him that lingered in your head and on your Tumblr. You wish for a moment that you could tell your followers just how good Eren fucks. He grips your hips, slamming himself into you and letting the sound of your moans fill his ears; accompanied by the sound of flesh smack against flesh. Sweat gathers on his hairline from exertion and, while he won’t dare say it, you’re so much better than his girlfriend that he can’t stand it. He wishes you were her.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked filthy by your favorite celebrity. Dreams really do come true.” He degrades you and groans as your walls seize around him due to the harsh words. The edge of the desk creates a painful crease in your skin as push yourself further into it and you just know that if he could see it from his angle, Eren would fill you up at the knowledge that he was fucking you full of pleasure and pain. The pain you’re receiving pushes you into your next orgasm, dry but no less satisfying.

“God, fuck, Eren!” You cry out, cum spurting out of you in all directions to leave yet another mess for you to mop up with your tongue. Eren’s ego needs to see the face he’s causing you to create, expression all scrunched up in pleasure. He’s not gentle when he pulls you off the desk and turns you to press your back into the hard wood - sure that the new position is uncomfortable and distracting you from that by pushing his dick right back into you until the hilt. You cry out at the delicious burn of him stretching you out once again. The new position affords Eren the ability to reach deeper parts inside of you, cock travel all the way up the temple of your cunt until it kisses your uterus in the most deliciously painful way possible.

Your hands unconsciously shoot up to run your nails along the tender flesh of Eren’s back, only for him to yank your hands back down and pin them above your head. “Sorry, baby. Can’t have you scratching my back up for her to see.” Something about him mentioning her pisses you off but you bite your tongue in favor of moaning as you take more of his harsh thrusts. He skips the gentleness and fucks you hard, gaping you on his long girth.

While gazing down at your pretty face, Eren’s eyeline focuses on your puckered mouth – circled to let out your slutty little moans one-by-one. “Open your mouth wider.” He demands, without even thinking about it. “Now.” And never needing to be told twice, you obey, stretching your lips to follow orders. He doesn’t slow his tempo; hips snapping to nail the softest part of your pussy and elicit moans from you all the same. He really takes you by surprise when he leans over your mouth and spits thickly into your waiting mouth.

He doesn’t have to deliver an order after his spit hits your tongue. You take a moment to savor Eren’s taste before swallowing it all down, assuring him that his saliva is on its way to rest in the pit of your stomach; successfully marking you. It’s not enough though. You can’t consider yourself fully marked by your idol until you have him filling all your holes – not just your mouth. “Eren...” You moan, dutifully taking each stroke he serves you. He feels so good against your constricting walls, shoving in and barely having enough self-control to pull out so he can fuck you properly. “Cum inside me, p-please!”

You know it’s so toxic of you to ask. You know this. The last thing you’d want Eren to think is that you’re trying to baby-trap him by practically begging him to fill you up when you’re both already so close to cumming. You hope he won’t lose any of the meager respect he has for you when you beg the question, his fists grip your wrists harder. “I already did.” He grunts, giving you a moment to feel his warmth pooling inside of your tightening cunt.

You gasp at the otherworldly feeling, feeling so full. You feel so unbelievably full of him, and you gasp at the sensation. You’re at a loss for words, can’t believe he just bred you like that. Your bodies stick together as he fucks you through your orgasm, hand wiggling between your sweat-slick bodies to stroke circles around your clit. You gasp, yet another rush of feelings causing your body to quake and the overwhelming sentiment of being bred by the man you worship enough to push you over the edge and squirt in such copious amounts that the small tuft of hair nestled at the base of Eren’s cock turns a darker shade of brown when your juices are soaking him there. "Aw, you should see how cute your face looks like this. Cumming your nonexistent brains out like this." His words go right over your head, unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t have to do with the breathtaking orgasm he’s gifted you.

The two of you take a moment to breathe. His eyes rake over your exhausted body, admiring his handiwork and watching as his cum dribbles out of you in small spurts of milky white. He’s about to compliment the way you took him, better than anyone ever has, when your phone goes off once more – sounding as if someone is trying urgently to reach you. Could it be another guy? He would’ve never assumed that you were both taken cheaters. Call him a hypocrite but the idea of you being taken by some other guy, despite the dedication you give him, really pisses him off.

You’re falling in and out of consciousness, still too sensitive to notice him grabbing your phone from the pocket of your discarded clothing. He opens it, finding that you don’t lock your phone. The notification screen is full of alerts from Instagram, showing that Crystal has been posting for the last few hours while he’s had you locked in his studio and fucking your brains out. He should’ve known it wasn’t a boyfriend. Who would date a fan girl like you? “You follow her?” Eren laughs when your phone lights up with the notification that she’s posting on IG. “I don’t even follow her.”

The look on your face suggests embarrassment but he’s sure that you just try to keep up the frenemies appearance with Crystal and that’s why you stay updated on her social media. You sit up to see what he’s seeing. Her feed is displaying photos of her at a bar or something, taking shots, smiling, and cuddling up with some other influencers. He scrolls along, irritated with her. Before he has the chance to shove your phone back at you, another pops up right before his eyes.

Crystal’s eyes aren’t on the person taking the photo, just locked in on a guy, making intense eye contact. He’s got her arms around her waist and he’s clearly flirting with her and she’s not rejecting him. And Eren knows those eyes. She flashes them at him when she’s in heat all the time. What really pisses him off is that he’s asked her hundreds of times to stop hanging out with that guy because he’s clearly just trying to fuck her. Now look at her. She bails out on a night with him to be with him? Suddenly, any guilt he could’ve had about cheating on his girlfriend with you evaporates and is replaced by the overwhelming need to make a point.

The look in Eren’s eyes significantly darkens and maybe a gaze like that would scare a normal woman but it only coaxes out another burst of arousal. He grips your wrists and pulls you close to him, completely overtaking your mouth with his own. The kiss is infused with his anger. It’s furious and you don’t need to know why. All he manages to do is turn you on. Your knees feel weak as you moan into the kiss. He doesn’t show you any mercy, not giving you a moment to breathe until he’s satisfied that he’s taken his frustration out on you. The singer grips your hair, pulling harshly. He grits his teeth when he speaks again. “On your knees again.”

For a moment, you worry that you did something to piss him off but let that thought go. You’ve been perfectly obedient and only done what you were told. You whimper a bit as Eren stares down at you, kneeling before him. If he asked you to pray only to him, you would do so. His dick hardens again, so easily. “Kiss.” He growls, eyes full of rage and hints of lust for you.

Your lips pucker and smear with precum when you observe his orders. You lick all that your small tongue can reach and swallow the piquant substance down. You’re still no good at giving him head but your burning desire to please him makes up for any lack of skill. Eren focuses on his orgasm but doesn’t let himself lose sight of what he’s planning. Eren pushes himself into your mouth, hot tip brushing your cheeks.

Your idol holds your phone up, turning on the flash and nearly blinding you. He begins recording himself as he rocks his hips into your dedicated mouth, letting himself moan as loud as he wants. “Y/N.” Your sore pussy clenches as he says your name. And just before Eren cums, he says the two words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. “T-thank you, Y/N.” Tears well up in your eyes, proud that you’ve finally been able to do a job for Eren that wasn’t completely thankless. He pulls out of your mouth and strokes himself over your face until he’s shooting warm ropes to paint your features.

“Stick your tongue out.” He gasps, being careful to capture everything happening on camera. He jerks himself off through his orgasm and takes great pleasure in staining your pretty face with his seed. “Never waste a drop of my cum. It’s more precious than gold.” When he runs dry, Eren turns the camera off and opens your inbox.

He tosses you his discarded shirt to clean your face of his juices. “M’ gonna send this to her.” He announces before he just sends it off. You want to question his intentions. Sure, you feel bad for letting him use you to cheat but you assumed that the two of you would just fuck and hide it from her. The idea of sneaking around turns you on a lot. But the idea of being exposed, the fear in being immortalized as a dirty slut isn’t unpleasant. The hesitation within you subsides. You nod and signal for him to send the video to the bitch, the image of her shocked face when she opens the video to see her boyfriend giving you cumshots enough to arouse you all over again.

You seat yourself in his lap, both of you sticking together thanks to being covered in a layer of sex. “Won’t she break up with you?” You don’t mean to sound so clueless but you’re not sure where the sudden spite for his girlfriend came from and you're not sure what good can come from this. Eren seems to have made up his mind though. He presses the send button and waits for her response.

The worried look in your eyes is the only thing that softens him. He looks at you, assures you that you have nothing to worry about. He’s pissed at her for disrespecting him. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, Eren just knows that she’s probably on her knees for the other guy at this very moment. No, he doesn’t feel like he’s out of line. He gives you his eyes and plants a chaste kiss on your cheek. “This is me breaking up with her, baby.”

And Eren can’t help but wonder how he never noticed how perfect you were and commits himself to treating you better, the way that you deserve. Both of your phones begin to let off alerts soon enough, likely a response to the sex tape that you just leaked of yourselves. “Hope you got plenty of more material for that blog of your because I’m expecting a post tonight.”

Laying seaside with Nanami

and then god came down to earth and said:

(cr/: xo_romiiarts on twitter)

I saw some XP that alters my brain chemistry and just screamed Armin Alert bro!

Like him looking you in the eye while he take long deep strokes?!

Him talking you through your orgasm with

“So fucking good for me.” OR “You were made for this dick huh baby?” all while looking you in the eye cupping your cheeks making you look at him.

cw: breeding,videotaping, belly bulging,

Any chance he gets he likes to watch his cum drip from your holes, his favorite being your pussy. He calls it his tight little cum bucket. He’ll chuckle a grin as he wipes any residue of cum from your fold with his cock and shove it back into your hole. 

“You know I hate being wasteful” he groans as he sinks his cock back into you. 

You can barely pull yourself together as you whine and whimper from the overstimulation. He’s so sadistic he’ll make you hold the camera up to your pussy so that you can get a view of how he fucks the cum back inside. He knows you can barely keep your eyes open so holding a camera is almost impossible at the moment. 

“Come on I thought you wanted to make a movie” he grins menacingly staring deep into the camera. 

Your moans are desperate and loud. He gives you slow long strokes just so he knows you can feel every vein and inch of his cock. 

“Tell the camera where you feel me Angel” he licks his lips eyes filled with lust.

He knows exactly where you feel him. The print of his cock fucking into you is evident.

“Right here” you slur as you place a shaky hand on your lower stomach while the other holds the camera barely able to keep your hand steady.

He places his hand there and pushes down slightly.

“That’s where our baby is gonna be” he whispers

You let out a loud moan at the pressure of his hand. The feeling is so overwhelming you almost drop the camera. 

“Don’t drop it ” he chuckles darkly “or we’ll have to start all over again” 

He pushes your legs further apart so he can shove himself deeper in between them. His thrust are steady as he fucks you. You feel your body jolt back with each rough stroke. He grabs you by the throat pulling you close to him. 

“Come, I want you to get a good view of how your pussy’s sucking my cock in”

You're trembling holding the camera up. Your moans are loud you feel the embarrassment flooding through you thinking about looking back on the video. 

“Look at that, damn near sucking me dry.” 

The squelching sounds that pair with his thrust leaving you whimpering. Everything leaves you moaning desperately. His hand grips your throat holding you up so you can get a view of how he fucks you. His cock feels so big all you can do is moan and drool at the sight of him plunging himself deep into you. He’s been fucking you for so long your voice has grown hoarse. 

“You’re so messy” he chuckles “We’re gonna have to change the sheets after this” 

His eyes are trained onto where the two of you meet watching the way your juices spray out onto him. 

“You see that baby” his grip on your throat tightens as his thrust pick up speed “She’s telling me how much she loves me”

You’re too far gone, you can barely form words. 

“Keep that camera steady, I want you to catch how pretty this pussy looks with my cum dripping out”

Gojo, Toji, Getou, Nana-fucking-mi, Matsukawa, Suna, Osamu, Kuroo, Sakusa, Kita, Tsukishima, Connie, Onyankopon, Levi

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: quiet nerd!pleasure dom!choso, heavy praise/light degradation, dacryphilia, choso has a size kink, choso’s pov, oral (giving and receiving), knife play/no blood, light pain kink, pussy drunk/obsessed choso, squirting, fingering, light begging, light choking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))

‘He is wearing those sweat pants, I keep sneaking glances at his cock, I wanna see it. No need to see it, I'm dying of thirst! He can feed me his cum! I don't really care much for giving blow jobs but something about Choso makes me wanna gobble his cock till he is a whiny mess.’

‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’

‘I cant help it! Have you seen Choso?! I want to hear how he sounds when he cums.’

‘Aren’t yall supposed to study for friday’s exam you can’t fail this one!’

Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’

Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.

Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.

You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.

Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.

Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.

“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.

His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.

Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.

“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.

Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.

Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.

Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.

Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”

Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.

Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.

He needs to make you cum.

Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.

Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.

Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.

“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.

Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”

His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.

Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.

Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.

Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.

Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.

Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.

Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.

“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.

Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.

Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.

Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”

Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.

“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.

Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.

Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.

Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”

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