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bren-heron · 3 years ago

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Summary: Connie teaches Jean how to make a girl finish, and he uses their best friend as a teaching example. It doesn’t help that Jean’s been pining after you for years—or does it? (Dark Red - Steve Lacey)

Word Count: 5.5k

Content/Warnings: MDNI, Read my rules before you follow, Reader has female genitalia with she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, threesome, oral (f receiving), praise kink, light impact play, overstimulation, degradation, choking, sex toys (vibrator), orgasm denial, nipple play (oil - yeah, oil)

Author’s Note: Hello! This is part of one of my lovely moots @lacheri’s Midnight Muses Collab! Honestly, I changed the entire concept of the fic and the song, and I also removed any dark content in favor of some more fluff. Thanks Cheri for letting me participate in this collab and be sure to check out the rest of the submissions by the amazing writers who participated!! Also, thank you to @bagsyy who beta read this fic and shared my Jean/Connie enthusiasm! <33

One of your best friends sits on his knees between your spread legs. He’s digging his fingers into the bed, blown pupils drifting up and down your clothed body, to the head that’s balanced on your shoulder.

Connie’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your loose shirt.

“Stop stressing so much, Jean,” he consoles. Jean watches as Connie’s large hands roam your clothed body, reaching down to grope your inner thighs. He sees the distant look in your eyes and recognizes it as arousal.

You’ve barely even been touched and you’re already throbbing.

“She likes to be teased,” Connie says. “Yeah? You like to be teased?”

You swallow and nod, holding onto Connie’s thighs. Your breathing grows shallow. Air kisses your skin where he pulls up on your shirt.

He strips you, leaving you in only your panties, and Jean’s eyes drop to your chest then down between your thighs. A dark patch forms on your light gray panties, confirming his earlier observation. He bites back a groan.

“Take her panties off, Jean.”

He stops breathing entirely.

His eyes move to meet yours, silently asking for reassurance, and you respond by lifting your hips, exhaling when you feel his fingertips grazing along your body. Goosebumps rouse all down your skin, smoothed away by Connie’s warm palms rubbing up and down your outer arms.

Your panties are placed on the bed, and your legs are pried open again.

“There,” Connie says. “Let’s begin.”

8:00 p.m.

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Connie deepthroats the straw of his milkshake, gagging horrifically though not stopping while you and Jean ignore his usual antics. You share a plate of fresh fries between you.

The neon lights from the diner cast a luminescent glow of purple and pink across the side of Jean’s face. His little facial hair is neatly groomed and trimmed, and you know because you can smell the aftershave on his jaw swirl together with the spritz of cologne on his neck. His jacket from earlier smells like him, too. It rests on your shoulders, which he tucked there before pushing the door open to the diner.

Late October means lower temperatures and harsher winds, especially when the sun goes down before seven o’clock.

Luckily, your best friend is a gentleman. He always has been.

Hints of pine and sandalwood tickle your nose, but not before the smell of sizzling food from the kitchen does.

“So, Jean, how are things going with Mikasa?” Connie asks, clearing his throat. It appears like he’s stopped trying to fit half of the straw down his throat. Thank God.

Jean grunts, waving his hand.

You frown and tilt your head, “You guys are still dating, right?”

He meets your gaze. Jean would never even dream of making you jealous. He isn’t into that petty shit. But if you don’t like him, then what’s the harm in trying to find someone who does, right? You have your own endeavors, so he’s entitled to his own as well. It still doesn’t stop him from feeling like shit about it—like he’s betraying you, even though you haven’t the slightest idea what he really thinks of you.

This secret is one he’ll take to the grave. And one he definitely won’t tell Connie or Sasha, either.

Armin is the only one who knows. Mostly because Jean confided in him when he was absolutely shitfaced and moping over watching Eren shamelessly flirt with you at that Marley party they attended a few weeks ago.

That night, Jean had slung his arm around your waist; pressed his fingertips into the bare skin of your hip so he could murmur low into your ear how much you’d regret ever sleeping with a guy as hot headed as Yeager.

You had only laughed softly and leaned in and assured him you had no intention of going home with anyone when he was that drunk. Someone had to put Jean to bed.

“We were never dating,” Jean clarifies. He tugs on the sleeve of the coat over your shoulders to make sure it doesn’t slip off. A piece of your hair is pulled out from beneath and tossed back. “Just talking. But we both decided there wasn’t any attraction. We’re better off as friends, anyway.”

Relief washes through you, and you settle back into your seat. “Mikasa is pretty cool,” you say. “I like her.”

“What about you?” Jean asks casually. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Connie snorts and leans forward on his elbows. He jabs a thumb in his direction. A disgusting smirk rises on his lips. “Oh, yeah.”

“Ha-ha. As if she’d ever stoop— “ The smile on Jean’s lips falters when he notices the way your lips purse. Something inside of him cracks. “No.”

“Connie’s being dramatic,” you frown.

“We’re just hooking up. Nothing like the benefits of having friends, right?” He swirls a fry in some ketchup.

Jean’s head snaps in your direction. “Please tell me he didn’t coerce, or force, or— “

“Unfortunately, I have no excuse.”

Jean goes dead silent and slack jawed. The fact that Connie—fucking Connie—is sleeping with you? Is putting his hands on you? Connie?

Jean thinks he’s actually going to pass out. Even if it’s just friends with benefits, that doesn’t change the gaping hole eroding further in the pit of his stomach. Just thinking about you with some other guy, in any way, makes him want to drag you away with a hand around your wrist and—

“Chill out, Jean. It won’t ruin the friendship or anything. Besides, she’s too nervous to go out and flirt with a guy to take home,” Connie explains, popping a fry into his mouth. “But she’s also needy as— “

“Connie!” you shout. “Fuck off.”

Connie shrugs. “It’s true though,” then he looks at Jean. “Trust me, there aren’t any feelings involved.” He looks at you next. “Never in my life would I wanna be involved romantically with you, no offense.”

“Believe me, the feeling’s mutual,” you murmur. The heat on your cheeks beats furiously, and you slouch further into your seat.

“I’m mostly just helping her learn how to do stuff for when she’s ready to ask out this guy she likes,” Connie adds.

Again, “Connie!”

“What?! Who?” Jean’s gaze leaps towards you. Something flashes in his eyes—likely the culmination of the jealousy that’s been building since Connie dropped the fucking bomb that he was hooking up with you. Now, apparently, you like someone? Who? What the fuck is their name?

“Beats me,” Connie scratches the back of his head. “Wouldn’t say who. Just some guy, I guess. Who definitely doesn’t deserve the hard work she’s been putting in.”

You fling a fry at Connie. He catches it with his mouth.

The last thing you want is for Jean to get the wrong idea—that you like some complete rando. But it would have been utterly humiliating to tell Connie you caught feelings for Jean.

Bottom line: Both of them are so experienced, and if it ever came down to it, you wanted to impress Jean more than anything. You wanted to make him feel good. Not that he seemed like the type who would make you feel insecure over your inexperience.

“You like someone?” Jean asks quietly. “Is it one of our friends?”

You shake your head. “No! No, definitely not. Connie’s just… trying to embarrass me.”

Connie furrows his brow and looks between the two of you. Then it clicks in a matter of seconds. “Oh,” he deadpans aloud. There’s a suggestive waver in his tone.

Jean is the one you want to impress. You like him. And Connie knows his best friend well enough to know there’s no way he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, too.

It may have taken him three years to finally learn long division, but he would’ve really been an idiot if he couldn’t pinpoint the tension between the two people he spends majority of his time with.

He grins. “It’s good practice, anyhow. Don’t you agree?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Jean sighs, deflating into his seat.

You and Connie gape at him.

“What?”

“You’ve never fucked a girl? You’re lying.” Connie shakes his head.

“No, I’m not,” Jean insists.

You freeze in your seat. Here you thought that Jean has hooked up with plenty of girls, and now you’re hearing that he’s a fucking virgin.

“Fingered a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Been given a blowjob?”

“Yes.”

“Gone down on a girl?”

“No.”

“Fucked a girl.”

“No.”

Connie collapses back against his seat. He spares you a quick glance, and the best idea he’s ever had pops into his head. “Well, how would you like to learn how to go down on a girl?” he suggests.

You and Jean go silent. Your heart thunders inside your chest.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll teach you how to on her,” he nods towards you.

“Huh?!” Jean cries. His hand lands on your shoulder and he points at Connie. “Watch your mouth, Connie!”

“I mean,” you intervene in a hushed voice, eyes cast over the countertop, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Jean’s jaw drops. Then he swallows. “W-what? You… you wouldn’t?”

You narrowly meet his eyes. A tiny smile on your lips. “If you want to… it’s okay.” Holy fuck, it’s more than okay. You’ve never been happier that Connie decided to open his big fat mouth.

“Really?” Jean asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I-I kind of like the idea of it.”

Jean folds his arms and sinks back. He rubs his face with his palm, almost to check and see if he’s still conscious because this cannot be happening right now. “Fuck… Okay, what the hell? Why not?”

Jean will happily stuff his face between your thighs until he can’t breathe, if that’s what you want. He has to press his lips together to prevent a far more enthusiastic response from escaping.

“Perfect. It’s settled then. Jean, you’re paying for the check.”

Jean huffs. “Of course I am.”

10:00 p.m.

TWO HOURS LATER | NOW

The three of you are in Connie and Jean’s shared apartment, in Connie’s room on his bed covered in freshly washed white sheets. The walls and bed are doused in red.

“Watch this, Jean,” Connie chuckles, bringing forth the pink silicone toy. He moves his thumb and an electric hum floods the room, barely heard over the soft R&B in the background. He nudges your pointed nipple. “You gotta warm her up first. Make her desperate.”

Jean nods. His throat is dry. His pupils are blown. He drinks down the sight of you and his stomach lurches because holy fuck—every inch of you is goddamn gorgeous and he can’t believe he’s been given the privilege to see you like this. Your stomach quivers with Connie’s skillful touches, soft skin mushing below his palms as he squeezes the sensitive parts of you.

Connie’s entire palm squishes your breast, and he presses the head of the vibrator to your nipple, waiting for it to pebble further beneath the stimulation.

Your eyes are half-lidded, body flushed with heat. Sheepishly, you look away from Jean as soon as his gaze meets yours. It almost inclines him to reach out and pinch your cheeks between his fingers just to force you to look and keep looking.

“We have the cutest best friend, don’t we?” Connie grins. He switches the vibrator to the other side. “Now that Sasha is with Niccolo, our girl doesn’t have anyone to go down on her. Except for me, but… You can’t take it when I give it to you, can you?”

You swallow and shake your head.

It’s true, you can’t take Connie, because he’s a fiend. When he starts, he doesn’t stop until he gets you to squirt at least once.

If the sheets aren’t drenched and darkened from your fluids, then he didn’t do a good enough job.

Connie glances at Jean. “See? She can take all the toys I want, though. And my cock. But not my tongue. I’m just that good.”

“You done gloating?” Jean rolls his eyes.

His friend smirks. “Hell no I’m not.” You wiggle against Connie’s hold, legs moving together, but he quickly winds his own ankles around yours and spreads you wide open for Jean. Your cunt glistens under the red light. “C’mere and spit on her nipples, Jean.”

Jean gapes. “W-what?”

Connie rolls his eyes and turns off the vibrator. “Come here, you idiot, and put your mouth on her tits.”

Hesitant, Jean’s gaze flickers to yours. Your lips are parted, tiny but laden breaths puffing past. Connie’s arm slithers behind your arms so he can pin them down, making your breasts jut out even further.

“Can I?” he whispers. He leans forward on his knees, chin lowered towards your chests but dark eyes still looking up.

You rub your lips together and nod. “Y-yeah. Please, Jean.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. You sound so sweet and so needy, and Jean’s cock throbs in his pants at the precious way your features scrunch up.

He does what Connie says. His left hand comes up to cup your left breast, large and soft fingertips weighing the skin, circling your pert nipple. He puckers his lips then lets a string of saliva dribble onto the bud, which he rubs in with his thumb soon after. Your clit throbs. Jean repeats on the right side.

But instead of pulling away, he buries his mouth over your wet nipple, pushing your chest together. There’s hints of your perfume between your breasts, something rich but distinctly sweet that reminds him of spring but also regality. Experimentally, he clasps his teeth around one of your nipples, tuning into the quiet gasps escaping your lips. Such pretty noises. Such a pretty girl.

“S’ pretty,” he murmurs aloud, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Connie’s hand presses against your pelvis, right over your cunt just to tease you. You whimper.

“Jean,” you moan. He blinks up, still pawing your chest, mouth dangerously close to your own like he’s eager to swallow every last one of those sounds—his name on your tongue—down to the very last drop. “P-please.”

“Please what?” he asks. His thumbs swipe over your nipples one final time before his entire palms drag down your sides. He grabs your waist; grips your hips; allows the top sides of his fingers to ghost along your inner thighs. He wants to know your body so badly the same way Connie does. Then he wants to be the only man to ever touch you ever again.

Connie's hand wraps around your throat, holding your head in place and tilting your chin back so Jean is now looking down into your closed eyes.

“Ask him whatever you want,” Connie encourages.

“Kiss,” you rasp. “Wanna’ kiss. Please.”

Jean’s heart races. He looks at Connie almost as if he’s asking permission, but his friend merely tilts his head as if to tell him, ‘Well, what are you waiting for? She asked you to kiss her.’

Jean lowers his forehead until it’s pressed against yours, lashes fluttering shut. For a moment, he can feel your lips, barely a hair’s breadth away. Plush and wet and warm. His heart is fucking hammering in his throat and his stomach churns because he’s about to fucking kiss you—his best friend—who he’s tried so hard not to think about because he doesn’t want to fuck things up.

Shit, it doesn’t help that you’re nuzzling closer, barely breathing. That soft tune plays on in the background. Red filters over Jean’s closed eyelids.

“Jean, ple— “

He silences your plea with his mouth on yours.

Without use of your hands, you can’t exactly explore every inch of him the way you’ve imagined, but he more than makes up for it with his own wandering hands. Jean’s fingers land carefully on the side of your face, tilting your head to the side so your noses don’t inhibit how close your lips can mesh. It’s a calm, gentle suctioning, and his lips are still damp from the saliva he mustered earlier.

He doesn’t give you his tongue yet. Instead, you let out a gasp when he pulls away, thumb pulling down on your lip before he’s leaning forward again. This time, you feel the warmth of his tongue on yours. His little prods aren’t necessarily timid but teasing.

A line of spit disconnects the further he pulls away, sticking to your bottom lip and chin. Neither Jean nor Connie move to wipe it away.

Rather, Connie gapes. “Shit,” he murmurs. “That was fucking hot. You’re hot, Jean.”

Furiously blushing, Jean glares at his friend. He scratches the back of his neck. “Shut the hell up,” he grumbles back.

Connie’s gaze flickers towards you. “Look at that.” He examines your features. The wrinkle between your brows; the dazed look in your eyes. “All you did was play with her tits and kiss her and she’s already fucked-out. Maybe you aren’t a lost cause, after all.”

Or maybe it’s because you actually fucking like him. And because he actually likes you.

Jean really doesn’t have to do much to have you totally whipped. He’d probably benefit from knowing that, but it’s not exactly easy to tell your best friend that you like him.

Connie reaches behind himself and grabs the familiar vibrator. It turns on and lands on your chest, and you jump at the surprise. Your knees tremble below Connie’s legs.

“So, you’ve never gone down on a girl?” Connie asks again.

Jean’s cheeks darken, and he nods. You find it more endearing than embarrassing.

“First things first— “ Connie dips his hand down between your thighs and slides two fingers through your folds. They glint below the dark red light. “Open up, Jean-bo.”

“Huh?”

“Taste her first, idiot.”

Jean stares at Connie’s fingers for a solid ten seconds before he leans forward and closes his lips around just their tips. Connie rolls his eyes.

He shoves them deeper into his throat, until his lips touch the bumps of his second knuckles. Jean coughs, but once the mixture of tanginess and saltiness simmer on his tongue, and he realizes this is you, he let’s Connie finger fuck his throat as deep and as long as he wants.

An amused snicker is heard behind you, melding with Jean’s soft gagging.

Your pussy clenches at the sight. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and rolls down his chin, moistening his neck.

“That’s it, Jean-bo. Make a mess. She likes it,” he praises. “Isn’t Jean a good boy, sweetie?”

You swallow and nod. “Y-yeah.”

Jean grabs onto Connie’s wrist, cheeks burning. Tears form in the corners of his eyes but only fall from one side.

Lips graze your ear lobe and the vibrator touches right above your clit. “Say it, sweetie.”

“Jean’s… a good boy,” you moan.

Jean almost cums in his pants.

Satisfied, Connie pulls his fingers free and wipes Jean’s saliva over your mouth and breasts. A smirk tugs at his lips. “Good girl. She is a good girl, isn’t that right, Jean?”

He pants, catching his breath. “Yes,” he gasps. “So good.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tastes fuckin’ perfect, too.”

“Mm-hm,” Connie agrees. “She does.” He stretches out an arm and holds the vibrator in front of Jean. “Now Jean, tease her with this. She’s wet already, but you want her dripping first. She’ll taste even better that way.”

Jean takes the vibrator and holds it to your wet nipples like he watched Connie do earlier, drawing circles and using a light touch. You wriggle a little against Connie, his hard length prodding your backside. His movements don’t falter. Neither of theirs do. In fact, they both look a little too focused—which is both perfect and fucking terrible for you.

The vibrator drifts down your body, over your sternum and down your torso, until it drags over your navel. You can’t help but whine, dizzy from the pounding between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you groan. “Please. Jean— “

“Shhhh,” Connie hushes, clamping a hand over your mouth. He kisses you on your temple. “Let Jean figure it out, sweetie. Remember that we’re using your body to teach him something, okay? I’m the teacher. He’s the student. And you’re the well behaved little whore letting us play with her pathetic pussy. Okay?”

You moan and Jean gapes as you nod. He wants to tell Connie to shut the fuck up, but the sound you make afterwards suggests you don’t mind it at all.

“Don’t worry, Jean,” Connie says, still covering your mouth. It seems he could tell exactly what Jean was thinking. “We’ve talked about this. She likes being called names. Tell him.”

He squeezes your cheeks between his fingers, pushing your lips into a dramatic pout. “I-I like it.”

“Like what? Don’t be shy because it’s Jean.”

“I like it when Connie tells me I’m a little whore,” you say, face scrunched.

Connie sighs with delight, eyes squinting as he smiles and rests his chin on your shoulder. The vibrator presses into the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis and you try to close your legs around the sensations.

“Jean!” you squeal. “Please. Wanna— “

Connie’s hand lands back over your mouth. “Oops. Almost forgot. Don’t mind her, Jean. Keep going.”

Jean sits on his heels, bottom lip worked between his teeth as he slowly inches the vibrator towards your clit.

Connie clicks his tongue. “Not there. Not yet. Do the other side of her inner thigh first.”

Your brows pucker and you fight against Connie’s hold, but he doesn’t budge. He just laughs into your ear and silences your cries of dismay even further by jamming three fingers into your mouth.

“You know where her clit is, right?” Connie asks.

Jean sneers at him. “Do I—I’m not a fucking idiot, Connie! I know where her clit is. Jesus.”

“Relax, I was just asking!” Connie argues. Nonchalantly, he pushes his fingers even further down your throat and entices a violent choking sound. “So, whatever you do. Don’t touch her there. Or her slutty little hole. At least for now, okay?”

“But I thought— “

“No, no. Trust me, Jean. The best way to drive a girl crazy is to not touch her where she needs it. You gotta’ tease her ‘till she can’t stand it anymore.”

Jean nods, taking his advice into consideration. Much to your dismay, he removes the vibrator from your inner thigh and brings it back to your nipples.

“Good, Jean. Now get her nipples harder then turn off the vibe.”

Jean does exactly that. Your nipples aren’t exactly soft, especially from the now-cold saliva still clinging to the buds, but they grow almost sore from the stimulation, especially when Jean learns he can increase the speed of the toy by one swift flick of his thumb. A guttural sound leaves your throat, muffled by Connie’s fingers.

“Look, Jean,” Connie says. Jean turns off the vibrator and sets it to the side, eyes clouded with lust as he takes you in. “She needs it so bad. Don’t you, sweetie?”

Futilely, you moan. Your fingers strain forwards, and Jean reaches out to hold onto two of them, but otherwise Connie’s one arm keeps your elbows pinned together behind you.

“Now keep touching her. And don’t stop,” Connie orders. “You like her so much then you better know her body like the back of your fuckin’ hand.”

Your face burns at the insinuation of Jean liking you, but what Jean says next makes you flush even hotter.

“Definitely don’t have to tell me that. I fucking know,” Jean growls. “Take your hand out of her mouth. I wanna kiss her again.”

Connie scoffs but nonetheless acquiesces to Jean’s request. Before you can do so much as take a breath, Jean’s kissing you again, savoring the copious amount of spit left behind that nearly spills out of your mouth. He gasps and you moan, while his hand seals over the front of your neck.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jean murmurs, almost drunkenly. “Ya know that?”

You can’t respond when his tongue is deep in your mouth again, feeling out every slick, gummy surface. Your lips mold to fit his, the occasional scratch of stubble making you sigh.

As he pulls away, he nibbles back along your jawbone and descends your neck, tongue swiping and swirling and lips suctioning bruises all down your skin. You squirm. You throb. Every burst of pain soothed by a warm tongue stuffs your thoughts further and further back into your brain, until nothing’s left. Just you and that bundle of nerves between your thighs.

And Jean and Connie’s warm bodies that feel more like forms of heat about to swallow you whole.

“That's it, Jean. Bite her. Make her know she’s yours,” Connie whispers. He fumbles around for something and once he finds what he’s looking for, he reaffirms his hold on you, keeping you on display for Jean’s teeth and tongue. “Kiss down her body. Towards her pussy, but don’t— “

“Don’t touch her clit yet,” Jean interrupts. “I know.” He breathes against your collarbone and sneaks closer to the hollow of your neck. Then he’s back on your breasts, tongue lolling out of his mouth over your now sore nipples. They’re painfully hard, but the stimulation still feels so right.

“Ohhhh— “ You groan, hips rolling forwards. Not enough. “Please, please, please— “

“Why rush it, sweetie?” Connie coos. “You’ve wanted Jean’s mouth on you for how long now? Just let him do what he wants. Be a good girl for him.”

You fixate on the feeling of Jean’s lips kissing down your stomach, tracing your navel, cock grinding over the bed sheets as he lays on his stomach just to be closer to your sex. His eyes glaze over at the sight of your cunt. Clit swollen, peeking out from your hood. Folds silky and covered in slick that smells exactly the way it tasted. Your clenching little hole.

“You’re twitching,” Jean whispers, his fingertips dancing around your pussy, not getting too close. His tip makes a wet spot in his briefs. “That’s really cute. You need it that bad?”

You nod, whimpering. “Mm-hm!” Your eyes well with tears.

“Is that not the prettiest cunt you’ve ever seen?” Connie asks.

Jean hums in agreement. “It’s fucking perfect. Shit. Wanna touch.”

“Just do it, then,” his friend says. “But I have one more thing before you start going to town, ‘kay?”

Jean pushes your inner thigh open then brings his pointer finger forward. Your entire body tenses, loud impatient breaths fumbling from your lips. You pour all of your focus into Jean’s touch—that single fucking finger, poking at your entrance. It flutters immediately at the contact then continues to clench on air as he drags it upwards, cutting through your folds, separating your wetness.

“So warm,” he whispers. “Woah.”

He nears your clit and circles around it, once, twice, thrice, and continues, stroking right over the hood. His honey-colored eyes twinkle at the sight.

“Please, please, please. Fuck, oh my God, I can’t— “ You whine, trying to shift your pussy so his finger rolls over your clit. Jean pulls away at the right moment, palm still pressing you open as you writhe in pure frustration.

“It’s okay,” Jean assures. He strokes your skin reassuringly. “Just a little longer, baby.”

“Last thing,” Connie adds.

You and Jean watch as he pulls out a small bottle, the lid already off. He turns it over and adds a few drops to your chest before placing the bottle back on the counter top.

“She likes it messy, Jean.” Then he starts rubbing the oil into your breasts, groping them in his palms, pinching your nipples until the sheen makes them stick out, overstimulated and tender. He rubs it into your tummy and all over your inner thighs, the red light casting your entire body in a dark red glow.

“Holy fuck,” Jean curses.

Connie massages the outside of your pussy, spreading your cunt then letting it smoosh together. The action drives you mad and makes the slick at your entrance smear.

“There,” Connie says. “Now Jean, kiss around her pussy first, like you were doing earlier. Then kiss her clit a few times.”

Jean hums, both of his hands splayed over your inner thighs. You feel the wetness of his lips scatter around your folds, holding them for a handful of seconds each time before his nose nudges your clit.

“Spread her open,” Connie instructs.

He spreads you with his thumbs, dark eyes flitting up to meet yours. You’re biting your lip, lower stomach quivering with your exhale.

“Blow on it. Then kiss.”

He does as told. A warm gust of air tickles your clit and you shudder, before his lips press firmly against the swollen bud. Just like that, you melt against Connie, and instinctively reach for Jean.

“So sensitive,” Connie chuckles.

Connie releases one of your arms so you can slide your fingers through that dirty blonde hair you’ve fawned over so many times before. It’s soft to the touch and falls easily between your shaky fingertips.

“You wanna taste her more?” he asks.

Jean groans and nods, pressing another kiss against your clit. Without instruction, his tongue lolls out of his mouth and licks several long stripes back and forth between your folds, the tip poking at your entrance. God, you taste fucking perfect, and he can’t get enough.

He returns to your clit, mouthing over it, swirling his tongue, coaxing moan after moan from the back of your throat.

Connie releases your other arm in favor of pawing at your breasts. He works your nipples between two fingertips, rubbing the oil into your skin. When his hands near your cunt, Jean shoves them away and wraps his arms around your thighs. He suffocates himself with your pussy, as intended.

“Suck on her clit a little bit,” Connie groans. Teeth nip at your neck. Breath tickles your ear.

Wordlessly, Jean puckers his lips over your clit and gently suctions. He nearly smirks at the delighted moan that sounds.

He pulls away with a wet pop. “You like that?” he taunts, knowing that you do because you’re about to rip his hair out of his roots.

A tight little “Yeah!” is all you can muster. You feel fingers at your entrance that slowly ease inside, curling against your ridged walls—a gesture that Jean is far more experienced with.

You can hear the embarrassing squelching of your slick and feel the heat of Jean’s saliva as he spits over your folds. You like it messy, he remembers, so he makes it messy. His tongue and fingers work in tandem, the stimulation pulling a string of cries from deep within your lungs, until his mouth works out every last one.

“You’re a natural,” Connie mutters, laughing breathlessly. He brings his palm down on your breast. A crude slap overrides the music.

Jean blinks up, then pulls his mouth off your pussy, fingers still moving inside you. His entire mouth and chin glisten from your slick, and his thumb replaces where his tongue was on your puffy clit.

“You’re perfect,” Jean breathes, catching your lips with his own. He swallows every last one of your soft whimpers. “‘want you to cum all over my mouth, baby. Can you do that?” He rubs your pussy with his entire palm. You bob your head obediently, recognizing his fingertips on your breasts. “Say you will.”

“I’ll-I’ll cum for you, Jean,” you whisper.

“Fuck.” He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, before sinking between your thighs once again.

His wrist flicks fast, his two fingers plunging in and out, tendons of his hands flexing as he makes out with your soaked pussy. You weave your fingers through his hair and pull, your head dropping back into the crook of Connie’s neck.

Your thighs squeeze around Jean’s head. “She’s there,” Connie warns, covering your breasts with his massive palms. “Cum on Jean’s tongue, sweetie.”

Your whine turns into a cry, and your back arches into Jean’s mouth as you reach your climax. The pleasure burns and bursts below, a white-hot sensation unfurling through your trembling figure. Jean hits all the right spots. They both do.

Jean slows the flicks of his tongue, lapping up the slick dripping from your fluttering hole. He can feel your walls clamping around the girth of his two fingers, sucking him in, and he wonders what it would feel like if it were his cock buried inside you instead.

“Such a good girl,” Connie soothes, smoothing down your hair. A satisfied whimper leaves your gaping lips, swallowed by Jean when he presses his mouth to yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and salty, and you let his tongue push in deeper, his fingers splayed over the front of your throat.

“So good,” Jean breathes. He massages your thighs and waits for the tremors to subside.

A crooked smile tilts on his lips at how sleepy you’ve become.

“Wanna taste,” Connie murmurs, tilting your chin so he can fit your mouths together. You make a sound but nonetheless let him use your mouth until he’s content. He pulls away. “Not enough.”

He reaches for Jean and yanks him forward by the collar of his shirt. Over your shoulder, they kiss, Connie’s tongue eagerly dipping past his teeth, entwining with Jean’s tongue. He can taste you, faintly.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, glossy eyes watching their mouths move together. You feel more liquid heat pooling between your thighs, Connie’s fingers continue to massage your oiled breast and nipple.

You can see the spit on Jean's lips when they pull away, his hazel eyes twinkling and low-lidded.

“So fuckin’ good,” Connie sighs. His calloused fingertips ghost along the crease of your thigh, hot breath on your neck. “You wanna learn how to fuck her, now, Jean-bo?”

Jean gawks. He lowers his head in front of you, blinking up into your eyes. You can see the rosy tint dusting across his cheek bones, darker on the tips of his ears. A smile grows on his lips.

“Absolutely.”

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bren-heron · 3 years ago

Text

Sink Or Swim, Or You Drown

Day Twenty-Five: Threesome | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Zeke Yeager x f!reader x Reiner Braun Genre: Smut Notes: baseball player!Zeke has me in a chokehold every day of the week Warnings: 18+, consensual sex, threesome (duh), manipulation, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), vaginal penetration, spit roast, gas lighting, degradation, praise, sub drop. Words: 3.8k

Your boyfriend was awestruck when you told him you’d won a competition. ‘You? You won something? You’ve never won anything in your life!’ Reiner teased when you filled him in. And it wasn’t something stupid either like an eyeshadow palette or a clothes voucher for an Instagram boutique. He was definitely more excited than you about it. He was tearing up, actually. How the fuck did you win a meet and greet with the Zeke Yeager? His favourite baseball player! He was yours, too, although you didn’t care for the sport as much. Reiner is satisfied enough when you tell him you don’t remember entering the contest; you enter so many after all.

So, you spent the morning getting ready together to go to the game. He couldn’t stop telling you how nervous he was, aren’t you nervous too? No, you’re not. This isn’t as big a deal for you as it is for him, you suppose. You were sent a care package along with your tickets. Some fun merch. Zeke signed a jersey for you with his number and surname on the back. You wore it proudly along with a matching baseball cap. You weren’t too sure about the foam finger, but your boyfriend was more than happy to wear it.

“This is surreal, it’s like a dream come true.” Reiner tells you.

“Yeah,” you smile. “Zeke certainly is special, isn’t he?”

Reiner holds your hand tightly as you arrive to the stadium. He is more than aware of the effect you have on men, but he isn’t threatened. You chose him after all. But he wants to make it very known that he is the one you are with. You’re his girl.

He thinks you do it on purpose, sometimes. He isn’t threatened but he doesn’t let you forget who you belong to either. Is that why you’re twirling your tongue around a red lollipop all sweet ‘n innocent? Makin’ him nice ‘n hard so he’ll fuck you like a monster later? He ogles you as you waltz through the metal detectors. Your hips swaying in your tiny denim shorts, and Christ you look tasty in that cute jersey. It’s a little oversized and still shows off your best assets perfectly.

He thinks you look so sexy, albeit a little boyish, with your new baseball cap on backwards. And the pigtails? Really? At your big age?

What are you trying to do to him?

He takes your hand again and guides you through the stadium. You’re heading in the direction of the seats, eager to get comfortable and enjoy the game together. The pitch is empty, he’s anxious. Hell, you’re anxious. It’s been a while since you went to a game, high school, actually. Your ex-boyfriend was a pitcher, naturally, a fact you opt to keep hidden from Reiner.

He tugs on your pigtails lightly and teases you. A hand is placed carefully on the plush flesh of your exposed thigh; he can’t stop himself from telling you how fuckable you look. He considers Zeke a role model, but he’s sure Zeke will be looking up to him when he realises he’s bagged such a cute piece of ass.

The stadium erupts when the teams come out onto the pitch. You’re scanning through Zeke’s team, the Titans, trying to spot where he is. Reiner grabs your chin and guides your eyes. There he is. Looking so cool and nonchalant. He knows he’s good, he knows he’s the best. Reiner starts whooping and clapping as everyone takes their positions on the field. He puts his foam finger on in preparation of supporting his team.

You look at the jumbotron; it’s zoomed in on Zeke’s face. Is he chewing… gum? He looks so cocky. Fuck him for knowing what a rare talent he is. A smile brews on his face as he continues chewing. His glasses have fallen down his nose ever so slightly; but he pushes them back up with ease using one finger on his left hand. He’s still looking at himself on the big screen. And he winks. It’s short and quick before he turns to converse with his team.

You feel silly.

Reiner hasn’t noticed the way you’re squeezing your thighs together and wriggling around in your seat.

How humiliating. He wasn’t even looking at you, not really. But it felt so personal.

That smile was specifically for you. That wink was sent to you.

The atmosphere was electric. The game was incredibly close, your body hairs were standing on end as goosepimples formed across your anxious skin. You don’t think you’ve been this invested in a sport… ever. Reiner held you close to him as you waited with bated breath for the game to end.

Your heart was beating in your mouth. Your tongue was quite literally pulsating and you didn’t dare take a breath. Fighting off the urge to blink was impossible; but you suspect everyone in the stadium feels the same. Nobody wants to risk missing a single second.

Especially with Zeke’s fastball technique.

The stadium exploded in cheers. The deepest sound you’ve ever heard erupted from your boyfriend. And are you actually crying?

They won. The Titans won. Zeke won.

How could you have doubted him for a second?

Reiner brings you close to him. He giggles when he sees the shimmering streaks of drying tears on your cheeks. He pulls you in for an emotional, ardent kiss. You come away from each other with excitable smiles on your faces. He’s staring at your teary eyes, they’re so damp and sparkly. He uses two thumbs in an attempt to wipe away the tears you’ve shed.

“Gonna ruin your makeup baby. You worked so hard on it too,” he explains, his soft-spoken voice warming your ears. The adrenaline of the game was wearing off, too. The cool summer breeze made you shiver. “don’t wanna look like a cry baby in front of Zeke, right?”

Oh fuck.

You’re meeting Zeke.

It struck Reiner as a little odd that Zeke had allowed the stadiums security to bring you both to the locker rooms to meet him. You didn’t care, though. You were exhausted by this point. He asked that you pretend you’re a little more excited to meet his hero. You are! You are excited! You’re just tired. He can understand that, right?

He kept a firm grip on your hand as the security guard escorted you to Zeke.

When the door opened, it felt like Zeke had personally shoved thirty baseballs down your throat and they were living in your lower intestine. Your nerves were shot. Even Reiner was surprised. He could hear your breathing get heavier, even over the sound of a shower being ran. He was sweet with you, telling you that it’s okay. He’s just a guy, after all. You think that he should take his own advice.

Both of your attention is focused on the direction you hear the sound of a squeaking tap. And the water stops. The security guard who brought you both down heads out of the room, leaving you to it.

And then he steps out.

Zeke is completely naked and drenched in water. Your mouth hangs open a little, and you make little effort to shield your eyes. You cover them, but continue peaking between the gaps of your fingers. A soft ‘damn’ falls from Reiner’s lips as he becomes redder than a cherry. He immediately turns around, not wanting to gawk at Zeke’s manhood.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed either of you yet. He picks up a small white towel that he uses to ruffle his hair in an attempt to make it dryer, he dabs his ears with it, too. He picks up his circular glasses, and you hear a soft sigh from him when he realises, they’re all steamed up. You can’t help but smile. That is the Zeke you know. Those glasses truly make his entire face. They’re so quintessentially Zeke. He pulls them off the bridge of his nose and lower to the tip so he can observe his surroundings over the rims.

“Oh, hey.” he speaks.

“Hey.” you and Reiner respond in unison. He’s completely unphased by your presence. He’s in no hurry to cover himself. He isn’t shy about it; his teammates must see him like this often. Although, he has nothing to be shy about. Even soft and unthreatening it appears to be long. It’s hard to tell with all of the steam swirling through the air.

“Just, uh- gimme a sec.” he speaks casually. Zeke rakes his fingers through his hair as he looks around the benches for something. And finally, he’s wrapped a towel around his waist. His abs are glistening from his shower, and the muscular ‘V’ shaped ridges leading down to his pelvis are making your mind race. “All covered, you can look now big guy.” Zeke teases.

Reiner turns around to see his idol mere inches away from him. Zeke holds out his hand for him to shake, it’s firm and quick. He looks at you, a devilish grin forms when he realises, you’re wearing his merch.

“Suits you, doll.” he comments. You feel embarrassed as you’re being examined by your favourite player. And he’s admiring you. “You’re dating, right?” Zeke questions. His finger wagging between the two of you. You nod, as does Reiner. “Cute. But unfortunate for me.” Zeke continues.

“Uh, wha- Why is that—?”

“I’ve always wanted to fuck a cutie like you in my merch,” Zeke comments, lightly tugging on one of your pigtails before delicately holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But I guess I should put some clothes on so we can hang out, huh? I’ll bet you brought plenty of things for me to sign, too.” he finishes.

You’re taken aback by the brazen statement. As is Reiner, although he doesn’t comment on it. It’s almost like he’s paralyzed. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? He thought he did. He thought it would make him happy to hear that Zeke was jealous of him for some reason. Your eyes search Reiner’s. He is at a loss for words, just like you. Zeke wants you. Zeke wants something that Reiner has. His idol. Reiner should tell Zeke to go fuck himself and shove his autograph up his ass. He should drag you out of there and away from this salacious, entitled creep.

“You can fuck her.”

“Reiner!” you respond. Where the fuck did that come from? Zeke turns around and crosses his arm. He understands that he’s your boyfriend, but is he really in a position to be offering your pussy out to anyone who wants it?

“I mean, she’s my girlfriend so… share her?” Reiner inquires. You’re livid. How the fuck can he think this is an acceptable thing to do? You get that Zeke is his hero. You do. But surely, he can see this is a step too far. Zeke scoffs and turns away from you both. Almost like he’s signalling that your boyfriend should consult you about this first. Wow, what a wonderful fucking idea. “Baby, please.”

“What the fuck Reiner you can’t just pimp me out to a complete stranger because he throws balls good.” you whisper. He nods in agreement, you’re right. He knows you’re right. But you need to stop being a selfish bitch right now, because this is Zeke Yeager, and this is once in a lifetime.

“Thought you liked him too, you think he’s hot right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not—”

“So, what’s the problem?” Reiner wonders. “I thought you loved me…” he sighs. Your breath hitches. Did he really just say that? Is he really trying to gaslight you into having a threesome? But the rational side of your brain had died the minute the implication that you didn’t love him left his lips. Of course you do. How could he even ask? You’d do anything for him. Anything like—

“So, are we doing this?” Zeke wonders.

The two blondes look at you expectantly. Waiting to hear your decision. And you nod.

Anything for Reiner.

Zeke’s towel was discarded the instant he knew this was going to happen. He had you on your knees, his legs spread for you to rest in the middle. Rough hands grasped at your roots. He was ruthless. Reiner noted he seemed very comfortable to be rough and demanding of his girl. He stood by the door fully clothed, not interested in joining in quite yet. His cheeks dusted red as Zeke complimented what a hot little mouth you have. He groans as you fondle his balls.

“She’s a pro, Reiner.” Zeke admires as you continue working his length. Your tongue laving over his thick, throbbing veins as your mouth rises and falls on him. The wet, warm muscle in your mouth ventures into his weeping slit. Savouring the taste of his leaking pre cum, he groans heavily at the sensitive intrusion. “Feels like she’s been sucking my cock her whole life.”

The noises you made were obscene. A sloppy symphony of sucking and slurping him. He was huge, too. Easily matching Reiner’s impressive length and girth. He chuckled as you released his cock so that you could gargle his balls and jerk him off simultaneously. Reiner new you had an A1 dick sucking game, he’s experienced it first-hand enough. But he could see in Zeke’s eyes that he was ready to burst. He’ll be pleased. What a good girlfriend you are.

“Gonna let me – unfhh – gonna let me paint that pretty face, honey?” he wondered. You looked at Reiner. He nodded his approval. Zeke dragged your attention to him once more. “You’re not with him right now, you’re with me. So be a big girl and make your own choices. Now, answer the question.” he instructed.

“Y-Yes, Zeke, you can—”

Your eyes squeezed shut before you could finish. White, creamy cum was already spurting all over your face. He grunted through his high, draining every last salty drop from his balls to see you decorated in his sperm. He panted, praising you for your hard work. ‘What a pro, such a fucking pro’ he repeated. Before you could pay Reiner any mind, Zeke was moving you around like a little ragdoll.

He took complete control of the situation. Unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down along with your seductive, red lace underwear with ease. He didn’t bother making you take off your sneakers or tube socks. Why would he? You look so cute. He wants to fuck you like you’re his number one fan.

He spits a heavy glob into your cunt and smears it between your pussy hole and the tight ring of your ass. His large palm settles between your shoulder blades and pushes you further down so your head is on the ground and your ass is raised higher. He wastes no time in returning the favour, devouring your flesh like he was getting paid to do it. You were a little self-conscious about how close his nose was to your ass, practically resting on the rim. But you needn’t be. He loves ass almost as he loves cute little cunts like yours. It was fortunate he thought your asshole was equally as adorable.

Reiner suspects he must do this often. Why wouldn’t he? He’s Zeke Yeager, after all. He’s handsome, he’s in his prime, he’s rich. He could have any woman he wants. And Reiner’s heart swells with pride when he remembers that he wanted you. Your legs are twitching and spasming around his face almost instantly. Yes, Zeke Yeager is definitely well versed in women.

“I think it’s time you give your boyfriend some attention, don’t you?” Zeke questions. You both look at him, he’s become as stiff as a statue. “Come. I think you should have her ride you, personally. But whatever you prefer.” Zeke smiles.

Reiner makes quick work of unbuckling the belt of his trousers and freeing his aching length. He’s been as hard as a rock since Zeke said he’d like to fuck you in your merch. And who was Reiner to disagree with Zeke’s proposal? Besides, he loves it when you ride him.

You straddle him backwards and line your cunt up with his thick cock. He helps lower you down, shushing and cooing as you grit your teeth through the stretch. Zeke thinks your cunt looks gorgeous being split open on such a big dick. You begin to ride him; Reiner leaves gentle bite marks on your skin as he loses himself in the pleasure. The celebrity by your side merely observes as you swallow your partners cock again and again. He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears his phone ring from the bench behind you.

“Hello?” Zeke answers. Musings of ‘sh, sh, sh’ tumble from Reiner’s lips as he implores you to keep quiet. You wouldn’t want to embarrass Zeke, would you? Zeke reaches a hand over without looking and begins pinching your soft nipples. It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep the noise down. His hand then travels downwards, three fingers vibrating gently against your clit.

“Haa—!” your cries interrupted by Reiner muffling the lower half of your face with his enormous palm. Zeke turns to you both, smiling, so fucking smugly. It’s like he wants whoever is on the other end of the phone to hear you.

“I’m doing one of those meet and greet things right now,” he speaks. “are you free tomorrow?”

Zeke puts his phone on his shoulder, tilting his head down to keep it firmly wedged in place. He uses his free hand start pumping his length back to full mast once again. The sound of sticky genitals clicking fills the entire locker room, it’s so indecent. So, crude. And yet none of you can seem to stop yourself.

“Yeah, a girl and her boyfriend.” he answers a question you couldn’t possibly hear over the lewd noises flooding the space. Zeke rotates his body so he can look at you both. He finds both of your eyes as he has instructions to deliver. “Cum.” he mouths, soundlessly.

Reiner uses his free hand to grip the soft flesh of your hips, gaining as much leverage as he can while he fucks up into you. He’s still covering your mouth, and it sounds like your moans are coming out of your ears as he ploughs himself up into your g-spot.

“Bye, see you tomorrow. Bye, bye.” Zeke finishes his phone call. It’s like a weight of relief off everyone’s shoulders. The three of you are once again free to moan and breath as much as you like. Zeke rubs his fingers harder against your clit. Your legs are squirming and kicking furiously. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much! “Hurry up and cum. I want to fill her tight little snatch.” Zeke orders.

The sound of skin slamming against skin rings through your ears. Reiner does his best to tell you how good you’re being, such a good little hole for him. But he’s struggling, his stamina is high but he’s losing himself to the thrill of his release. Zeke steps in where he is failing. He’s making sure to tell you just what a good little whore you’re being for them both. You both cum together, it would almost be romantic if this wasn’t so scandalous.

You’re given no time to regain composure as Zeke pulls you towards him. He has you on all fours again, lining his own erect cock up with your dribbling hole. The stretch isn’t any better this time, and you’re out of your mind if you think he’s going to go easy on you. That isn’t his style. Of this, you’re sure.

He instructs Reiner to fuck your face, a good old fashioned spit roast. You nod, it’s okay. He wouldn’t care if it wasn’t. He only cares about Zeke’s wants – not yours.

You’re choking on your boyfriend’s thick cock. It’s always a struggle to fit, but at least he lets you go at your own pace. Normally, that is. Right now, he’s really going for it. He is enamoured with the sight of your tears as you do your best to handle both of their lengths. Zeke holds your arms behind your back using them as leverage to drive himself into your sweet spot again and again. It’s working, fuck, it’s working. He knows your body all too well. You’ve never felt more desirable. Sandwiched in the middle of two handsome men as they do what they please with your holes. That’s all you are. And that’s all you want to be.

A fucktoy.

Reiner coats your face with his cum, just as Zeke had before. The mixture of their loads is less than pleasant, but you feel happy to see your partner happy. Zeke isn’t far behind. Adding his cum to Reiner’s in your tight, juicy cunt.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Zeke or Reiner how quiet you are when they pull out of you. And are those… tears?

“Go and shower Reiner, I’ll help her out.” Zeke comments. He doesn’t really want to leave you; he should be the one taking care of you. It’s been a long time since you’ve sub dropped. You’re his responsibility, but he doesn’t feel up to arguing with Zeke about it.

He heads towards the showers after Zeke tells him you can both join him in his hotel for the evening. Zeke carries you in his arms to the same direction. He just showered. But what’s the harm in one more if it’s with you?

He feels bad, he only has male products to clean you with. But it’ll have to do. He massages your scalp with shampoo. He wraps his arms around your torso and kisses your neck tenderly, a completely different man to who’d just fucked you senseless.

“’m sorry Zeke.” you tell him.

“Not another word about it.” he tells you, carrying on his task of cleaning you up. “Been a while since you’ve subbed dropped, huh?” he questions.

“Yeah,”

“I remember when you got it real bad back when we were dating in school.” he expresses, feeling a little guilty of how rough he can be with you. “I’m glad you came today, I’ve missed you.”

Memories of your times together with Zeke flooded your mind. You missed him too, of course, but you were with Reiner now. And you loved him, you did. You’ve secretly kept in touch with Zeke for years. Reiner would be stunned to discover his hero is in actual fact your ex-boyfriend. So, you decided to keep schtum. The pair of you concocted the idea of a fake competition. He was the star player, of course he could make it happen. And it was nice to know you were finally able to fulfil his high school fantasy of fucking his number one fan in a number 9 shirt with YEAGER across the back. You did look fucking good.

“I’m just glad he believed me about the competition.” you spoke, finally finding yourself able to smile.

“Maybe the three of us can all be great friends who fuck. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

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