moechies - Tumblr blog

moechies · 3 days

Text

˖⁺ ♥︎ ⋆ 𝒜 +

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 3.4kay word count , black fem reader , oral sex [ r. performing ] , established relationship .

𝜗ϱ 𝓁𝓊𝓋 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝓂 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 . . . dis iz a repost omgie ૮꒰っ ̫ _ ꒱ྀིა uhmm . literali jus tweaked like 3 sentences or so . yh . plz take dis . ageless blogs + minors Do Not Touch ! ! ! !

you are an eager thing — for better words, a diligent thing.

eren and onyankopon were not aware of the monster that they would create after taking your virginity. unwisely, they thought of it all being temporary. you wanted them nearly every day, could never get enough. a pout and soft tug of their fingers and it was clear what was set to occur within the next five minutes, whether it be at home, in the car, in a grocery store’s bathroom. the way you’d kiss them would sometimes too reveal what was clear your mischievous, little brain’d been brewing — you’d do it more slowly, deeper, add a meek tongue suckle.

you’re akin to an energizer bunny, and eren and ony aren’t out of shape, they aren’t supine, bone idle human beings, but god damn . . .

in all honesty, you simply want to become better at it . . especially, for them. it’s only a plus that it feels so good and, you realized that, unfairly, after only two more occurrences, the both of them were now able to pluck at and play with your body as if they themselves were part of it; always knowing where to touch, where to grip, fondle, and kiss. as much as it is a beautiful thing between people who love one another, sex, boiled down to its simplest, is a skill — one that you have yet to master.

“wanna make you feel good,” you uttered to ony.

funnily enough, you don’t say this while straddling his lap or laid underneath him, no, you decide that you’re going to ask him to teach you how to suck his dick while he’s standing in the kitchen, glazing a smoky, sweet sauce across pieces of raw, seasoned chicken that lay across a pan which he was going to place into the oven.

ony can’t help but scoff a soft laugh as he lets the oven door slam closed once he’s done, “ma’, i feel like you approachin’ this all wrong,” the last, little bit of sauce sits within a bowl and he pours it down the sink drain before turning on the water and grabbing a sponge to begin to wash it. “you lost your virginity . . eight days ago, right? you don’t have to know everything off the bat.”

you’re leaning your hip on the cabinet beside him, watching his hands move. you notice that they’re big — fingers long and nimble. chewing upon the skin of your bottom lip, your own hesitate when you reach out to touch his flexing bicep. ‘i’m yours now,’ he mumbled that night after you all settled down and prepared to get some sleep. ‘we’re yours, and you’re ours.’ both him and eren had noticed how shy you were with initiating touch while out on your first date at the pier. they have to keep reminding you that it’s okay, you hardly need their permission.

the memory is enough to give you the confidence needed to wrap your hand around the fold of his elbow and push yourself closer into his side. “i know,” you sigh and close your eyes, nuzzling your face into his side. “. . y’smell so nice, onya’.” he always does. morning, noon, evening, and in the middle of the night.

angling his head down to look at you after shutting off the rushing water, ony takes in how you melt against him — close your eyes, breathe in deep, release it out slow, grip him tighter. he supposes that this is yet another reminder that you like him . . you really like him. your long, cat eyed falsies flutter before you’re looking up at him, cheek pressed against his bicep.

eren’s gone . . he’s been gone since around eight this morning and the two of you have been alone in his apartment for about seven hours now. unlike onyankopon, your morning ticked off to a slow start. he got up with eren to go on his usual, six am jog and send him off with a kiss goodbye, came back and you’d still been asleep. you hadn’t woke up until around ten and found the two of you by yourselves.

ony makes you a little bit nervous . . . for no other reason, due to the fact that he’s uncommonly handsome. you still feel a bit shy, you don’t think that’s ever going to change around him or eren. however, unlike eren, onyankopon doesn’t really speak too much. he’s happy to simply exist around the ones he loves without saying anything or drawing attention to himself — and you’d think a person like this would be self centered, or a bit of an egomaniac, nonetheless, he’s always attuned to your wants and needs.

he sits at the kitchen island, taking a call, laptop open, and papers spread along the marble in front of him, sees you take a cautious step his way, and is almost instantly patting his lap and opening his arms so that you’re able to take a seat. he knows when you’re needy, hungry, or tired, and this goes for eren, also. the two of them were once two halves of one whole . . however, from those two halves, a piece was broken, and now there are three.

“baby, you don’t gotta do this if you don’t want to, y’know that?”

your eyebrows furrow in the tiniest bit as you look away. it’s an odd mix of feelings polished across the beautiful features of your face, main ones being tenacity and inhibition. “i-i know,” you sigh and lick your lips, pushing yourself closer. “but i wanna do it, ony, really.”

you’re adamant, and ony’s just a man — one look at you and he’s already bricked.

smirking, he wraps a hand around your throat to pull you in for a kiss, “alright,” he mumbles against your lips. “i’ll teach you.”

you both situate yourselves in the living room — onyankopon on the couch, long legs spread agape to give you room to sit between them. your knees are cushioned by a pillow. “okay,” you breathe out quietly, placing your hands on the knobs of his knees. he wears a white tee and a pair of red nike sweats.

you watch as he lifts his hips and before you can so much as blink, his dick is exposed, twitching and half hard, rested within that deep valley where his thigh meets his groin. your eyes flit across smooth, dark brown skin. the bulging tendons flexing on either side of your head, the thin, hollow gorges that map out his abs once he lifted his shirt nearly halfway up his torso to keep precum from dripping on it.

slowly, your thighs rub against one another, hand flexing above his cock before you wrap it around his base to make it stand upright. “. . oh my god,” you whisper. it seems even bigger when it’s directly in front of your face as opposed to when he’s just laying the underside flat on your tummy to size you up — the length surpasses your forehead by a couple inches or so, and you don’t want to think too much about how tight you have to literally squeeze your palm around it if you want your middle finger and thumb to touch because he’s just that thick too. “ ‘s heavy.” your giggle reveals how nervous you are, onyankopon can’t help but smile. you’re cute.

“yeah?” he mumbles, stacking his fist atop of yours where you hold it. “sometimes i like t’jus . . .” he never finishes his sentence because he figures he’d rather just show you.

pulling his shaft back an inch or so, he lets it fall back onto your chubby cheek with a small plap. how quick you are to gasp is amusing. you appear to be so scandalized. huffing a chuckle, he slaps his tip on your lips, then the other cheek, “mm, like that,” onyankopon folds his arm behind his head, spreads his legs just the tiniest bit wider, and sinks deeper into his seat — he’s getting comfortable. “feels better when i slap it on a tongue, though.”

instantly, you’re letting your tongue loll out of your mouth, making the tip of it touch your chin while, callowly, slowly, you tap his fat tip on the surface.

your eyes are locked upon his . . his expression is a familiar one — lids drooped halfway into his eyes and you watch as lazily drags his bottom lip underneath the top row of his teeth, simply watching you.

“. . like that?” you ask, pushing yourself in closer between his legs.

he hadn’t known that you could get prettier, but you do. looking up at him with your big, brown eyes — you’re so eager to make him proud. “mhm,” he quietly hums while the hand behind his head curls into a loose fist. “kiss it.”

your glossed lips pucker so that you’re able to stow a sweet smooch against his frenulum.

“jus’ like that,” he mumbles. “. . . you’re so fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?”

another sweet, sheepish giggle and another delicate kiss, this time lower, near the middle of his shaft. you look up at him when you give one more, right atop of his balls. a muscle in his thigh flutters — you decide to take a note of that. “mm,” you make your way back up and lick your lips, swallowing what little you can taste of him within the back of your throat. “so do i . . . lick or,” you breathe and touch the tip with your index finger. “suck it now . .?”

onyankopon scoffs a laugh, “i mean . . shit, every guy’s different, some like to jump straight into it . .” he engulfs your fist within his own. “i don’t. i like the kisses and tongue slaps, and when you stroke it a couple times . .” he leans forward and soon, a dribble of spit is falling onto the fat crown of his cock. with his fist over yours, he makes you polish it across the rest with long, slow strokes, ensuring that your wrist follows his when he rotates it as he gets to the top. “like that. an’ whenever you ready, you can try to suck — take your time.”

you’re timid, spine feeling as though a string had been corded around it and yanked from up top to make you sit rigid and taut. “. . you’re not gonna get soft?”

“nah,” he smirks. “not around you.”

you flush and decide to pin your focus onto what now both your hands hold. gathering a wad of saliva on your tongue, you curl it to make certain that a slow trickle of spit falls out past your lips and onto him, not wanting too big of a mess. you’re aware that you may be way too in your head, thinking and self doubting yourself. you try to fight it, to live in the moment — stroking him the way he showed you, you’re pleased when ony’s eyes close and he releases a soft, slow breath, “mhmmm.”

you mirror the sound on your own, lips parting at the sight of his cock gifting you another warm trill of precum that begins to spill across your fingers.

a taste, you only want a small taste . . .

onyankopon’s body twitches when you suddenly wrap your lips around his tip, using the peak of your tongue to dip inside the cleft and swallow another dribble of it. “mmm,” you hum, enraptured by the tang. skin and salt, briny and tepid. your eyelashes flutter once you blink up at him and decide to take another inch deeper inside.

underneath his breath, ony utters, “slow, baby, slow.”

the corner of your lips stretch further and further the more you swallow. you only make it about halfway before your eyes are burning with the influx of tears and you’re forcing yourself back up for a gasp of air with thin strings of spit hanging from your lips. “oh my god,” you swallow, panting out a few breaths. “y’so big.” faintly, you wonder how eren has managed to ever deep throat this fucking monster? you decide to try again . . however, once more, you only manage to fit about four to five inches of him inside before your gag reflex is forcing you to cough him back up.

“hey, hey,” onyankopon’s sitting up when he sees a familiar pout and your eyes beginning to glaze over. that’s not good.

you’re frustrated. “i can do it, i swear,” you hiccup and let him cup your face within one of his palms so that he can force you to look up at him. “d-daddy, i can do it.”

he kisses you sweetly, stroking your tears away with gentle swipes of his thumbs before they fall further past your cheeks. “chill,” he’s smiling though, finding you all too precious. “don’t cry, mama.”

you drag the front of your wrist over your cheek, “. . ‘rennie can do it, i wanna do it, too.”

“eren doesn’t have a gag reflex,” he informs, “you do . . so this means, we gotta train your throat if you want t’be able to take it all the way down, baby,” he kisses you again. “and that could take a few days or some weeks, regardless you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. it feels good either way for me.”

“i want to do it.” your little frown of determination shouldn’t be so endearing, nevertheless, it is. your mind is made up, and onyankopon’s beginning to learn that once that happens, there’s not a thing in the world that can change it.

“okay,” he whispers, caressing your bottom lip until you open and let him dip it inside. “ima tell you right now though, ‘m only gon’ give you about half of it . . we’ll work in another inch another day, ight?”

he waits until you nod before he’s relaxing back against the settee’s cushions. only half. you can do that, you’re sure.

again, you try — mouth opens, gets stuffed with his cock, only this time, you stroke what you can’t fit with your hand, keeping your grip tight and cheeks suctioned. eyes big, you look up, gauging ony’s expressions once more while you suckle him slow and steady. you watch as his facial muscles relax and eyes close, “. . m-mmph, fuck, t-there you go.”

you try not to do what you’ve seen in porn, aware that the videos may not be good for study material, albeit, can’t help but gag on him a second time to induce more spit to drip out of your mouth and down the pillar of his dick. when he feels the ring of your throat constrict around his tip, ony’s legs jerk. so, you do it again . . and again, gagging shallowly on him while your other fist gathers on top of the one holding him upright. as you stroke them, you start to also twist the two in alternate directions.

you think this is where onyankopon loses himself — head tilts back, fingernails dig into his own knees, “h-hah . .” his moans are guttural and low, vibrating underneath the heavy breaths he drags in through his opened mouth. “shiiiit . . yeah, jus’ like that.”

you hum. if you had a tail, it’d be wagging, you’re sure. popping off for a moment, you pant and keep massaging his cock, watching rivulets of your spit drip down to his quivering balls.

you like this.

you like kneeling between his legs, mouth packed full of thick, dark dick, hearing the mesmeric sounds tumbling past the thick pillows of ony’s lips. when you clench your thighs more close against each other, and feel the familiar sensation of your clit throbbing against the soft cotton of your panties, you presume that you like it more than you think. you swallow him down again and soon after, your fingers find the thin, soft, wrinkled skin of his balls. tentatively, you press down on them, in a somewhat firm manner.

“rub, baby . . between your fingers — mm, that’s right.”

your hands are soft — almost unnaturally so. ony’s seen you lather a sugar scrub all over them one night so he supposes that’s why. for a beginner, you’re good . . you’re better than fucking good, honestly. you keep your cheeks siphoned and your lips tight, ony might as well be stroking his dick in a drain pipe. it’s a fucking vice. harsh breaths tremble when you exhale them through your nose, and when you’re not making small glug glug glugs, you’re whimpering in a manner that makes onyankopon think this may be a bit too overwhelming for you, nevertheless, you stare up at him with those bottomless, wide brown eyes and he sees how much you enjoy this.

ony feels his heart hammering, it sends a new flood of blood that feels all too hot and broiling for his body, makes his hips shift and rock where your hands lay flat against. god, he likes you. he likes you so, so, so much.

“f-fuck,” he lets his head fall back when you decide to let your tongue caress the underside of his dick while you continue to gulp him down. you move it from side to side, “god damn, baby . .” he moans and takes hold of the back of your neck for some type of leverage. “y’eatin’ that dick up . . s-shit.”

when he feels your nails scrape against his inner thighs, feels you begin to trace precious, little hearts against them, he’s unable to warn you of his release.

you feel his balls jump and twitch, and soon the muscles within his cock are flexing as an influx of warm, thick cum begins to pour inside your mouth. you squeak out a small sound of surprise, straightening your back, and keeping your head still to let it all comfortably gather onto the welcoming palette of your tongue.

onyankopon groans out a long, mellow, “fuuuuuuck,” basking in that exceptional feeling of the pit of his stomach dipping low to work out the rest of his seed as clusters of white, blinking orbs dance behind his closed eyelids. “f-fuckin . . pretty ass, shit,” he’s groaning, making you squeeze your fist tighter to let the last, few drops dribble out. “you fuckin’ . . perfect, oh my god.”

when you swallow and release his tip with a satisfied hum, it’s at this moment that the machinery of the front door whirls with a sharp shlick as a key twists inside of the lock and opens it. from then on, there’s a relieved sigh being exhaled out of a chest, thump of shoes falling, and soon, eren is revealed, standing in the entryway of the foyer.

his keys dangle from his index finger and he holds his phone within that same hand. thick, brown brows jump so high upon his forehead that they almost hide behind the beanie he wears once he takes in the picture of the living room and who occupies it. he takes his time speaking and while he tries to find his words, you cover your blushing face. “. . oh,” he finally utters after a while. “okay.”

ony chuckles.

“okay,” eren repeats while walking over, handsome smile spreading across his lips. “so . .”

you drop your hands when he stops before where you still kneel. onyankopon decides to fill in what was clear you were too embarrassed to say. he motions to his flaccid dick, measured at six and a half inches on soft, laid against his stomach, and adjusts an arm behind his head again, still revelling in that glow that only a damn good orgasm can give, “baby wanted me to teach her to suck dick . . so, i did,” he smiles, eyes heavy.

when he puts it like that, so crude and vulgar, you smack his knee.

“mm,” eren’s smirking now, tongue rubbing against the inside of his cheek. “. . . so, mama, how you like it?” he’s curious.

you nibble on your bottom lip and look away from them both. they’re such teases. “. . was nice,” you quietly reply, blinking up at him. “can’t deep throat it though . . have a stupid gag reflex.”

“yeah?” he crouches down and cups your face within the web of his hand. the lids of his eyes fall low into them as he slowly maneuvers your head from left to right — as if you were some brainless sculpture, meant to be nothing short of admired. “how’d she do, pa?”

“fuckin’ . . .” ony has to think about his words. there’s literally none for what he just experienced, all he’s really able to say is, “A plus.”

eren lengthens himself back to his full height while grinning, “A plus, huh?” your eyes are fixed on his fingers, trimmed and polished with a clear coating. they pluck at his belt and, on instinct, your mouth moistens with a new flow of saliva. “i jus’ gotta try this out for myself, then.”

#eeeek i never see aot smut :<#so well written ♡#attack on titan #attack on titan smut #onyankopon smut #eren smut

293 notes · View notes