#solè’s bar ☆

[alaiasole]

🌲 welcome back to solè’s bar🌲

tonight’s special: armin arlert, a secluded cabin, & steam rising from the hot tub.

→ armin x black!reader | smut | modern au | mountain getaway, hot tub teasing, wine, and no distractions

→ tags: dry humping, riding, dirty talk,armin obsessed with youuuuu (as he should)

a/n: I��M BACK GUYSSS

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

the hot tub was bubbling, steam curling into the night air, and you were curled up beside him, arms brushing, legs tangled under the water. skin slick and warm. but the truth? neither of you had been able to keep your hands to yourselves since check-in.

his lips found your jaw again, lazy and soft. you giggled, pushing at his chest just a little.

“armin…”

he only smiled, kissed your lips once, then again. slow and sweet. like he couldn’t help it.

“i’m gonna pour us some wine,” he murmured against your mouth.

he stood, grabbed the bottle from the edge of the tub, and filled both glasses without rushing. he handed you yours with a small smile.

“thank you,” you whispered, already taking a sip.

your eyes lit up. “ouuu this one is good…”

he took a sip too, nodding. “yeah… but i think you taste better.”

“armin!” you laughed, swatting at him.

he grinned, leaning in again, voice low in your ear.

“what? am i lying?”

his lips grazed your skin.

“are you tipsy already?”

“no,” he whispered. “i’m just telling you the truth.”

you roll your eyes at him, cheeks warm, heart full.

“we really needed this, honestly.”

your voice was soft, floating between you two like the steam curling around your shoulders.

“yeah,” he nods, eyes steady on yours. “we needed to get away for a bit.”

his hand brushes over your thigh under the water, thumb smoothing over skin like it belonged there.

“and i’m so glad i’m here with you.”

he leans in and kisses you again, sweet and slow. lips warm.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth.

you smile as you kiss him back, whispering, “and i love you.”

your fingers slide into his hair, gentle, like you can’t stop touching him either.

he looks at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“i wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” he murmurs.

you don’t even have time to respond—his lips are on yours again, this time deeper, messier. it builds fast. his hands grip your waist. your mouths move like you’ve been starving, kissing through little gasps, breath hitching.

you end up straddling him, water sloshing softly against your hips as you move. your arms loop around his neck. your chest presses to his. you start grinding into him slow, feeling him throb beneath you, hard and thick even through his swim trunks.

“baby…” armin whimpers against your mouth, voice already breaking. he’s so sensitive, so reactive. you roll your hips again and feel him twitch under you. your clit slides right over him, the pressure making your thighs tremble.

you kiss him harder, moaning into his mouth as you keep grinding down, slow and deep. your nails dig into his shoulders. the water rocks with your motion, splashing softly at the edges of the tub.

your clit pulses, throbbing as the friction sends heat racing through you. your eyes roll back.

“fuck… feels so good…” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

you’re dripping, swollen, soaked in every way. every slow grind sends another wave of pleasure rolling through you. you moan again, higher, breathier—your hips stuttering as your orgasm crashes over you.

you cum on him, shaking, breath catching, body arching just a little as your moans spill into his mouth. you don’t stop kissing him. it’s messy. desperate. all teeth and tongue and breathless whimpers.

you’re still trembling in his lap, and armin’s just holding you, stroking your back, breathing like he’s about to lose it too.

“baby, i need you so bad,” armin’s voice is all husky and rough, like he’s been holding back forever. his eyes locked on you, all dark and needy. “you don’t even know how much.”

you bite your lip, feeling that heat bubbling up inside your chest. “yeah?” you say slow, teasing, reaching between you both.

your hand slides under the waistband of his swim trunks, pulling them down nice and slow, giving him that little show. your palm wraps around his cock hard, thick, and dripping wet.

he whines low, eyes half-closed, watching you like you’re the only thing that matters. “fuck, you feel so good already.”

you stroke him slow, making his hips jerk into your hand. “baby,” he groans, voice breaking, “please.”

you slide your bikini bottoms to the side just a bit, letting him see you. heart racing, you drag the tip of him over your clit, biting your lip so you don’t moan.

“damn, you’re so wet for me,” armin breathes, voice low, lips brushing your ear. “you always get me like this.”

you lean in, kissing his jaw, then his neck, your tongue flicking over that spot that makes him shiver. “i wanna feel all of you,” you whisper.

slowly, you push him inside, inch by inch, savoring the stretch and heat. the water moves soft around you as you press close.

“fuck,” you both moan, breath catching, feeling everything so damn good.

you grip his shoulders tight, sinking down to adjust.

armin’s hands find your ass, grabbing firm and warm, pulling you closer as you start moving. just slow at first, rocking your hips, waking up that fire.

“god, you feel so good,” you whisper, eyes closing.

he leans in, crashing his lips onto yours hungry and hard. tongues dance, moans muffled between you. his hands knead your hips, pulling you close while you bounce.

“you’re mine,” he growls between kisses, “so damn wet for me.”

“only you, baby,” you pant, grinding harder, feeling every inch.

your hand slides back down, rubbing your clit in tight circles, breath hitching, hips rolling.

“armin,” you moan, voice thick, “i’m close…”

he groans, thrusting faster, fingers digging into your skin.

“come for me, baby,” he whispers in your ear, voice broken, “let me feel you.”

your stomach twists, the knot snaps, your body shaking, moaning his name as you ride it out.

armin shudders, thrusting deep and messy, panting, “fuck, you’re so good. gonna come too…”

he cums hard inside you, hips jerking, whispering your name every time.

you hold him close, breathless, skin slick with sweat and water.

after a minute, you giggle, lips brushing his in a slow messy kiss.

“you’re crazy,” you murmur, fingers tracing his jaw.

“only for you,” he grins, pulling you in tight.

then—knock knock.

“oh shit, the food,” armin laughs, voice still thick.

“we better clean up,” you say, laughing, grabbing a towel.

door opens, delivery person smiles, food bags in hand.

armin grabs the bags, eyes on you. “let’s eat… then round two?”

you grin, wrapping your arms around him, already knowing exactly what’s coming next.

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

The melodramatic OT3 of Cyrano de Bergerac × Red Wine Supernova ❤️‍🔥

for @ninadove, my old bear 🧸💜 happy ami-versary!

Cyrano/Roxane/Christian is just one of those classic ships that stay with u forever I fear. The most lasting & closest version to the Platonic form of the love triangle ❤️🤍💛

Links to all 6 productions I used are here (Ferrer, Weber, Jacobi, Depardieu, Kline, & Solès)

This is my first ever edit :)

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome back to solè’s bar 🍸

tonight’s special: eren yeager, unfinished business, & your back against his bathroom mirror.

→ eren yeager x black!reader

→ smut | exes to ??? | modern au | you and eren doing shit you’re not supposed to

→ tags: f!reader, oral (f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy, possessiveness, dirty talk

༺☆༻

the music is loud. like, bass-in-your-throat loud.

the kind of loud that makes your drink ripple in your cup as you sway to the beat with your girls.

tonight’s been fun. niyah dragged you out, mikasa found a table, the bartender gave you a free shot just for smiling.

life is good.

your relationship’s been steady, solid. no complaints. your boyfriend’s sweet, consistent, got his shit together.

and you? you’re glowing. you’re soft and happy and trying not to think too hard about anything.

“okay, we gotta move,” niyah calls out over the music, fanning herself dramatically.

“sasha said there’s an afterparty like five minutes from here,” mikasa adds, already standing and reaching for her purse.

you glance around. “where’s sasha at now?”

“she said she was coming right back,” niyah says. “that was like ten minutes ago.”

you pull your phone out. call. no answer.

call again. voicemail.

you frown, looking toward the upstairs hallway. “i’ll go check for her upstairs. maybe she went to the bathroom or somethin’.”

“we’ll come with you,” mikasa offers, already starting to follow.

you shake your head, already stepping away. “nah, it’s fine. it’ll be faster if i go alone. plus… i know my way around here.”

you walk past bodies pressed against the walls, pass the kitchen with the sticky floor, head up the creaky stairs that’ve stayed the same since the last time.

you keep going, past the second-floor hallway, down toward the last door at the end.

you see the bathroom light glowing under the door. it’s cracked open.

“sasha?” you call softly, stepping closer.

you nudge the door open and your whole body just… stills.

your heart drops.

shit.

it’s not sasha.

it’s him.

eren.

your ex.

he’s shirtless. sweat-damp hair, jaw tight, tattoos peeking down his arms and across his chest like they never left your memory.

he’s leaned over the sink, eyes flickering up to meet yours in the mirror like he’s been expecting you.

your breath catches and you swear the whole house goes silent in your ears.

he blinks, slow, then turns around to face you fully.

“…hey.”

fuck.

it’s like your mind just… drifts. naturally.

right into memory lane.

you and eren had been together since high school.

the golden couple. the blueprint. the ones people pointed to and whispered soulmates.

and in the beginning? you really believed it.

you two were so in love. inseparable. always touching, always whispering to each other, always riding for one another.

but somewhere along the way, shit just… shifted.

the fights started small, then turned into full-blown arguments.

you were on and off so many times you lost track.

people stopped asking if y’all were still together because nobody ever really knew.

until eventually, you called it quits. for real.

now you’re with your boyfriend.

he’s sweet. stable. treats you right.

you’re not unhappy.

you’ve convinced yourself you’re happy.

but as you stand here, face-to-face with eren—shirtless, hair a little longer, tattoos you don’t recognize licking down his ribs, his sweat-slick chest rising and falling slow

your heart does that annoying little skip.

you scan him arms flexed, pants slung low, a hint of that deep v-cut on his hips, a little trail of curls leading down to that bi—

whoa.

okay, reel it in.

you blink, shake your head a little.

were you just… eye-fucking your ex?

girl. please.

is that cheating? probably not.

but why the hell does he still look so good?

your eyes meet.

his are calm.

soft.

dangerous.

you swear you feel the room tilt just a little.

his lips move. he’s talking to you.

you’re not even listening.

“are you done staring?” he says, voice low, teasing.

your mouth opens, but you’re still looking at him.

oh.

he’s talking to you.

“oh—yeah. um… sorry. have you seen sasha?”

“no,” he says, “but how’ve you been?”

gosh, the nerve.

“i’m good,” you reply, turning toward the hallway.

he steps behind you.

slams the door shut.

“baby, where you going?”

curse that stupid pet name and what it does to you.

you freeze. “eren, i can’t do this with you right now.”

your voice is calm. too calm.

you’re looking at him.

and suddenly, it’s like everything crashes back at once.

the late-night drives.

the yelling matches.

the slow kisses in the back of his car.

the way he always looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

the breakup.

the heartbreak.

the silence.

“just let me talk to you,” he says.

“eren—”

“five minutes,” he pleads. “just five.”

you sigh. “fine.”

he steps back, arms folded, leaning against the sink like he’s trying not to look too eager.

“i just wanna catch up with my favorite girl.”

your heart flutters.

you shove it down like it means nothing.

“boy, get on with what you wanna tell me.”

he shrugs. “how you been?”

“good.”

“that’s good. how’s college treatin’ you?”

“it’s fine.”

“how’s your sister?”

“she’s cool. she still asks about you.”

he smirks. “how’s your little boyfriend?”

there it is.

you don’t respond right away.

“he’s… great,” you say, but even you don’t believe it.

eren raises a brow. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so how’s the relationship?” he asks, real casual.

you hesitate. just a second too long.

“it’s good.”

“mm.” he hums.

but he doesn’t say anything else. just looks at you.

you try again. “it’s good. like… really good.”

he leans forward, slow. “you don’t sound convinced.”

your mouth opens, then closes.

why is your heart racing like this?

“my relationship is great.”

he nods, but the look on his face?

it says sure, baby.

and now your thoughts are racing.

like, okay. your relationship is good.

he’s a good guy. he does everything right.

but… you’ve never felt like this.

not the way eren’s always made you feel

like he could set your whole world on fire with just one look.

and now he’s looking at you like he’s thinking the exact same thing.

eren’s mind is racing.

he never thought he’d get the chance to be this close to you again.

talk to you.

hear your voice.

yeah, sure you both go to the same college.

he’s seen you around.

at a distance.

in passing.

but you always looked straight ahead, never once turning your head to look his way.

and he got it.

he couldn’t blame you.

but still

he never stopped looking.

and now?

you’re right here.

standing in front of him.

goddess braids flowing down your back, honey blonde catching the bathroom light just right.

that color always looked good on you made your skin glow like it was kissed by the sun itself.

he swears you look even more beautiful than you did the last time he saw you.

if that’s even possible.

how the fuck is that even possible?

his eyes drop

to your pretty brown eyes, the ones that used to roll when he made you laugh.

to those soft, full lips he used to kiss like they were his last meal.

to the tiny necklace resting on your collarbone the one he bought you back when shit still felt good.

his gaze trails lower, slow.

he shouldn’t.

but he does.

your outfit hugs every part of you just right.

he can see the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, the thighs he used to fall asleep between.

those thighs he swore were made to suffocate him.

he shouldn’t be thinking like that.

but here he is.

god, he misses you.

he misses everything.

the sound of your voice in the morning.

the way you’d always throw your leg over his in your sleep.

how you’d pout when you were mad at him but couldn’t stay mad for long.

he misses the soft moments.

he misses the loud ones too.

he misses you.

he can’t believe someone else gets to call you theirs now.

some random ass dude gets to touch you, hold you, listen to you laugh, wake up to you in the morning.

some other man gets to see you smile like that.

he wants to hit something just thinking about it.

and the worst part?

he can’t even be mad.

he’s the one that fucked up.

he’s the reason things ended the way they did.

he was reckless, impulsive.

he said things he didn’t mean, left when he should’ve stayed.

he took for granted what the two of you had.

what you gave him.

and now here you are same girl, whole new glow.

stronger.

prettier.

happier.

or at least, that’s what you’re trying to convince him of.

he can’t stop staring.

and when your eyes finally meet his

it hits him in the chest like a brick.

goddamn.

you’re right there.

close enough to touch.

close enough to ruin all over again.

he wants to say something.

something real.

please come back.

i miss you.

i never stopped loving you.

but his mouth won’t move.

his heart is too busy slamming against his ribs.

you stare at him

“why are you shirtless”“oh. alcohol got spilled on my shirt. why? am i making you nervous?”“eren please.” you roll your eyes.

he laughs a little under his breath, shaking his head like he knows something you don’t.

“you look nervous. like old times.”

“boy, please,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “this ain’t that.”

“nah, i know. you got somebody now,” he says. “you happy?”

“what kind of question—”

“it’s a yes or no.”

you pause. “yes.”

“right.”

he nods like he believes you. but the silence says otherwise.

you shift your weight, already regretting even walking in here.

“eren, don’t do this.”

“do what?” he steps closer, low and calm but firm. “ask about the guy who gets to call you his now? the guy you let hold you at night? the guy you let kiss that smartass mouth?”

“you don’t get to be mad. we broke up.”

“we broke up?” he repeats it, a scoff escaping. “nah, you walked away.”

your jaw tightens. “and you gave me every reason to.”

his face falls, just a little.

“yeah,” he says. “i did.”

he looks away like he can’t even face himself for a second.

but then he looks back at you, fire building behind his eyes.

“but don’t act like it was just me. you didn’t even try. you shut down, you ran, and suddenly i was the only one fighting for us.”

“because you drained me, eren. you think this was easy? loving you was not easy.”

he steps in again, voice rising. “but you did love me, didn’t you?”

your breath catches.

his eyes are burning into you now, like he’s searching for the answer inside your silence.

“and don’t lie,” he says, a little quieter. “you still do.”

you scoff, trying to collect yourself. “you don’t know shit about how i feel anymore.”

“don’t i?”

he leans in, drops his voice.

“the way you were looking at me earlier? the way you’re looking at me now?”

you roll your eyes again, ready to brush it off, but your body’s betraying you. you’re still standing there. still listening. still feeling.

“i have a boyfriend,” you say, almost like you’re reminding yourself.

he nods. “and?”

your eyes narrow. “and i’m loyal to him.”

“even if you don’t love him?”

you hesitate.

he takes a breath, voice softer now, but no less sharp.

does he make you happy?”

you hesitate. and that’s all the answer he needs. but he doesn’t stop there.

“does he remember the little things about you?”

he moves in closer, voice brushing your skin like a touch.

“your favorite color?” he tilts his head. “the way you hate sleeping with socks on? how you always eat the fries first?”

you look away, jaw tightening.

“what about your favorite song? that stupid playlist you made called ‘bad bitch energy only’ even though half of it is sad ass r&b?”

“eren—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“does he please you?”

your heart skips.

he leans in, close enough to kiss, but doesn’t.

“does he make you come the way you like to be pleased?”

you don’t answer. you can’t.

and suddenly, he’s behind you. you didn’t even realize how fast he moved. his hands on your hips now, guiding you to face the mirror in front of you.

and there it is. you and him, reflected back. too close. too familiar.

“fuck…” he breathes, eyes dragging down your frame in the mirror. “look at you. so fucking beautiful.”

his lips ghost over your ear, voice low and filthy.

“you remember how i used to fuck you right here… in front of this mirror?”

your breath hitches. memories crash down like waves.

you remember when you said you knew your way around here?

yeah.

that’s because this is Eren’s house.

and this is his party.

fuck.

your stomach flips. all this time. and you walked right into it.

“eren—” you try again, turning your head, but he’s not done.

“yes, i stalk your shit.”

his voice is tight now, rough.

“yes, i see the little pictures you post. you and him all cuddled up. captions like ‘my peace’ and ‘my person.’”

he laughs bitterly.

“that’s supposed to be me, you know that?”

he’s looking straight into the mirror now, straight at you.

“it fucking kills me. watching you play house with someone else. knowing i fucked it up. but that doesn’t stop me from still wanting you. still loving you.”

you swallow hard, trying to stay still even though your body’s screaming.

“why’d you come to the party?”

his voice is softer now, but still cuts deep.

“because… sasha invited me.”

“but you knew it was here.”

“…yeah.”

“and you still came?”

“…yes.”

his smirk is slow, knowing.

“you sure you didn’t come to see me?”

“no, eren. i’m in a relationship. a happy one.”

“mmm.” he presses a kiss to the crook of your neck.

“then why are you letting me touch you like this?”

you close your eyes. “we can’t do this.”

“yes we can.”

“eren—”

“shh.”

his hand slips around your waist, lips brushing your ear.

“tell me… does he make you cum?”

you stiffen.

“like i did? does he fuck you right? make you feel good?”

he kisses your neck, hands gripping your hips tighter.

your silence makes it worse.

“answer me.”

“…no.”

he exhales, satisfied.

“there we go. see?”

his voice dips low again, proud and tender all at once.

“not so hard to tell the truth.”

he turns you so your lips meet in a kissmessy, hungry, like he’s been starving. like he needs this to breathe. he locks the door behind him without breaking the kiss, hands already roaming, gripping, pulling you in like he’s scared you’ll disappear again.

“come here,” he breathes against your mouth, picking you up by the waist. you let out a small gasp as he sits you up on the counter, his lips already back on your neck, jaw, collarbone like he’s trying to memorize every inch of skin again.

his fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts, a smirk tugging at his lips. “can i taste you, baby?”

your brain screams no you shouldn’t have kissed him, you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be doing this.

but your body? your body is already leaning in. already throbbing for him.

“yes,” you whisper.

he pulls down your shorts and panties in one slow motion, eyes glued to the way you glisten for him. he spreads your thighs open gently, like unwrapping something precious. “fuck,” he groans. “so wet, baby.”

and then he smiles. that same sinful smile that used to ruin you.

he leans in, lips brushing your inner thigh before kissing it softly.

“hi, beautiful,” he murmurs low, hot breath hitting your skin. “i missed you.”

your pussy clenches.

he glances up at you with that cocky-ass expression. “seems like she missed me too.”

you open your mouth to say something smart, but it melts into a moan when his tongue presses flat against your clit. slow. thorough. like he’s savoring it.

he groans into you, deep and hungry, like the taste is better than he remembered. his hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he devours you like a man possessed. “you taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, circling it slow and then fast again until your hips are rocking into his face.

“e-eren—” you gasp, your hand reaching down to tangle in his hair.

he moans in response, like he loves hearing you say his name like that. his tongue dips lower, licking up everything you give him, and then he’s back to sucking that spot the one he always knew could make you see stars.

“god, you sound so pretty,” he says between licks, voice thick with want. “you still moan the same. still taste the same. still fuckin’ mine.”

his fingers dig into your thighs tighter, and he flattens his tongue against your clit, fast and relentless. your head falls back. you swear you black out for a second. your legs shake.

“come for me,” he whispers. “don’t hold it. give it to me, baby. let me hear it.”

and just like that you break.

you moan his name as your whole body tightens, thighs squeezing around his head, hips bucking as your orgasm hits you like a fucking tidal wave. it rushes over you, blinding, electric, and so deep it steals your breath.

he doesn’t stop.

he licks you through it, even slower now, letting you ride his mouth until you twitch and whimper from overstimulation. when he finally pulls back, his lips are shiny with you, and he licks them like he just finished dessert.

“fuck,” he whispers, standing between your legs again. “you always give me the prettiest moans.”

and just like that, you’re still panting on the counter. legs trembling. lips parted. looking up at your ex who just reminded you why it was always so hard to let him go.

meanwhile, downstairs?

your girls are looking for you. confused, whispering, pacing the party floor.

“where the hell is she?”

“you don’t think she left, right?”

“no, she wouldn’t just leave.”

your phone’s been blowing up for the past ten minutes buzzing and lighting up on the counter behind you, ignored and forgotten while eren’s got you bent over the sink.

he palms your ass, spreading your cheeks wide. “gonna fuck you just like i always did right in front of this mirror,” he groans, lining himself up. “so you can watch me take what’s mine.”

you barely manage a moan before he thrusts in deep and your back arches instantly. the stretch is too perfect, too familiar. your eyes roll back as he fills you completely.

“fuck,” you whimper, breath fogging the mirror.

he doesn’t even give you a second—he’s already pounding into you, hard and deliberate, gripping your hips like a man with something to prove.

SLAP.

he smacks your ass, then grips it tight with one hand while the other comes around your neck, pulling you back so you have no choice but to watch your own expression in the mirror.

“look at that,” he pants. “look at her fucking cream.”

and you are. slick dripping down the base of his cock, coating your thighs your body is giving in like it missed this, like it was just waiting for this exact moment to lose all self-control.

he pulls your leg up onto the counter, opening you wider. deeper. rougher. he fucks you like he’s punishing you for ever moving on. each thrust knocks a moan from your throat, your body shaking with every snap of his hips.

your phone vibrates again. and again. and again.

the screen lights up behind you, messages flooding in:

Mikasa:

girl. where tf are you??

pick up your phone

sasha’s here she said she hasn’t seen you

are you ok???

Niyah:

we’re literally looking for you rn

your man’s texting us. should we tell him something??

Sasha:

umm where did you disappear to????

Bf❤️:

babe? everything okay?

mikasa said you’re not answering your phone

where are you?

i’m getting worried. pls text me

and then even eren’s phone starts lighting up on the counter, buzzing loudly.

Connie:

brooo did you know y/n was here???

her girls are looking for her did she leave??

Armin:

eren… answer your phone

is y/n with you?

are you okay???

but none of it matters.

because eren’s got you choking on your own moans, hand still wrapped around your throat, lips by your ear.

he thrusts in harder meaner.

your nails claw at the counter, eyes half-lidded.

you sob out a moan. it’s too much. it’s so good.

“he’s never gonna fuck you like this,” eren growls, picking up the pace. “no one ever will. you’re mine—you know that?”

you can’t speak. you can’t think. all you can do is moan as he slams into you over and over again, dick hitting that perfect spot so deep you feel yourself start to come undone.

“say it,” he grunts, voice tight. “tell me who fucks you like this.”

you gasp. “you, eren—fuck—it’s you—”

“that’s right.” he bites your shoulder. “nobody fucks you like me.”

you come hard body shaking, mouth open, crying out his name with a raw, broken moan as you clench around him. your orgasm crashes over you, legs trembling, vision blurred.

he follows right after, groaning deep and guttural as he spills inside you, holding your hips still so he can bury himself in you, deep and messy and so fucking wrong.

he stays like that for a second breathing hard, hands still on your hips.

and then, slowly, he pulls out.

your thighs are shaking. you’re still bent over the counter when he watches it happen his cum dripping out of you, slow and sticky, painting your thighs.

“fuck,” he breathes, licking his lips. “that’s my favorite view.”

and your phone is still vibrating.

still lighting up.

still full of people who don’t know what you just let happen.

but in this moment?

you don’t care.

eren helps you clean up, wordless.

he grabs a towel, wipes you down between your thighs, his eyes still dark and quiet as you tug your shorts back on. you smooth your top. he zips his pants. you fix your hair. he washes his hands. you stare at your reflection like maybe if you blink slow enough, this moment will rewind itself.

but it doesn’t.

you both glance at the door.

you already know it’s time.

eren exhales. you nod.

he unlocks it.

click.

the door swings open, and there they are.

right outside the bathroom, standing in a half circle like the most awkward intervention of all time:

Armin.

Connie.

Sasha.

Mikasa.

Niyah.

and your boyfriend.

every single one of them staring.

no one says a word.

no one has to.

because your skin is still flushed. your lips are a little swollen. your shirt’s tugged too high on one side. eren’s hair is messy, knuckles red, belt buckle crooked. and most damning of all? your boyfriend’s eyes wide, stunned, chest rising and falling like he already knows what he just walked into.

your hair’s a mess.

your lips are swollen.

your clothes are messy

the bathroom smells like sex.

you shift, eyes darting, your heart pounding in your throat like maybe you can fix this if you just explain fast enough but there’s nothing to say.

and then armin, voice barely above a whisper, murmurs:

“…what the fuck.”

but no one responds.

because this?

this is the kind of damage that doesn’t need words.

you look your boyfriend in the eyes.

he looks back at you like you just broke something he can’t pick up.

and in the stillness, the silence, the heavy weight of your decisions lingering like perfume and sweat and bad timing—

all you can think is:

fuck.

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome back to solè’s bar🍸

tonight’s special: eren yeager, movie night, & fingers in places they shouldn’t be.

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

→ eren yeager x black!reader

→ smut | friends with benefits | modern au | tension that gets messy on the couch

→ tags: f!reader, fingering, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, eren being nasty

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

you and eren had been close since high school. always inseparable, always a little too touchy for just friends. and somewhere along the way, that “just friends” line? yeah, it got completely crossed.

now you’re half underneath him on your living room couch, mouth swollen, heart racing, and absolutely not prepared for the fact that your friends are supposed to be here any minute for movie night.

“eren,” you mumble against his lips, breathless, tugging at his hair to get some space between you. “we can’t—our friends are coming.”

“they’ll be late,” he says, already kissing down your neck like he didn’t hear a damn word you said. “we’ve got thirty minutes.”

you blink, panting. “thirty minutes is not enough time, dumbass—”

“plenty of time,” he says, grinning as he pushes you back against the couch, settling between your thighs like he belongs there. “you stress too much. just relax.”

you try to sit up but his hands are already under your shirt, warm and greedy. “eren—”

“shhh,” he hums, dragging his lips along your jaw. “lemme take care of you.”

he leans in and kisses you again, deeper this time like he’s trying to eat the air out your lungs. one hand grips your thigh while the other slides up your skirt, slow and teasing, until his fingers are rubbing over the thin fabric of your panties.

“fuck, you’re already wet?” he mutters against your lips, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. “you want my fingers that bad?”

you whine, rolling your hips up into his hand, chasing the pressure. “shut up—”he grins, pressing his thumb right over your clit through the soaked fabric.

you gasp when he shifts your panties to the side, fingers sliding through your slick. he groans low in his throat, like he’s the one losing his mind. “shit… you’re drippin’. you want my fingers that bad, baby?”

“eren, please—” you whimper, voice already breaking.

“yeah?” he kisses your neck, sucking at that soft spot under your ear. “that pretty little please? that’s all it takes?”

he slides two fingers in slowly, watching your face the whole time. your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut as he curls them just right like he’s been studying your body for years. (he has.)

“mmm, there it is,” he says, thrusting them deeper, fingers fucking into“so fuckin’ tight. always so good for me.”

you moan into his mouth, hips twitching with every stroke. the squelch of your arousal is loud, filthy, echoing in the room.

“you hear that?” he breathes, kissing you again. “pussy’s talkin’ to me. beggin’ for more.”

you’re barely holding on, legs trembling, nails digging into his shoulders.

“c’mon baby,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “lemme see you cream all over my fingers been missin’ this mess.”

and you do back arching, thighs squeezing around his wrist as you cum hard, moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. he works you through it, fingers still moving, slow and deep.

“thats it,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

he flips you over without warning, hands gripping your waist as he pushes your back down into the couch. “arch that shit f’me,” he mutters, voice already thick with lust. you do, instinctively, cheek pressed into the cushions, ass high in the air.

he pulls his sweats down just enough to free his cock, already hard, veins bulging and thick as hell. he strokes it once, twice, and then presses the head right against your soaked folds.

“this pretty pussy’s just waitin’ for me, huh?” he grins, rubbing the tip between your folds, teasing you until you whimper.he pushes in slow, both of you moaning as he stretches you open. he groans deep in his chest, hands gripping your ass.

“fuck,” he grits, starting to move, deep and heavy strokes that make the couch creak. “you’re so fuckin’ tight… always suckin’ me in like this.”

you moan into the pillow, fingers gripping the cushion as he starts pounding into you faster, rougher, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. he smacks your ass hard, over and over, until it’s burning and jiggling under his hand.

“you like that, huh?” he growls, leaning down, pressing a kiss to your spine. “you want me to fuck a baby into you? want me to fill you up nice and full?”

you nod, babbling something that sounds like yes, like more, like don’t stop, face buried in the cushions, ass bouncing with every stroke.

“nah, you love this,” he keeps going, thrusts rough, right on that one spot that makes you sob. “love gettin’ fucked dumb. that’s why you’re so wet for me.”

you moan so loud it echoes, hands clawing at the pillows, your thighs trembling from how deep he’s hitting it. he’s talking in your ear now, nasty, slow, his pace dragging just to tease.

“look at you,” he grins, pulling out just a little before slamming back in, the wet smack filling the room. “shakin’ and cryin’ like you love this shit.”

he brings his hand back down, slaps your ass again, then spreads it just to watch himself disappear in you. “so fuckin’ creamy,” he groans. “can’t believe this pussy’s all mine.”

you’re trying to hold yourself up, but your arms are giving out, your back arch turning sloppy. “eren,” you whine, “i can’t—i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he moans, hand snaking around to rub your clit again, fast and messy. “gimme one more. cum for me one more time.”

you whine, delirious, eyes rolling back. he’s hitting your spot perfectly, every thrust knocking the breath out of you. “s-so close,” you gasp, drooling into the pillow.

“cum for me,” he grunts, slamming into you harder. “cream all over this fuckin’ cock, baby.”

your back arches as you break, orgasm crashing over you so hard your legs shake. your moans come out as choked sobs, pussy pulsing around him while you cream all over his dick.

“goddamn,” he hisses, hips stuttering. “gonna fuckin’—”

his fingers dig into your hips and with one last deep thrust, he spills inside you, filling you up warm and messy. both of you groan, panting, sweat sticking to your skin. he slowly pulls out, watching his cum drip from your twitching pussy, leaking down your thighs.

you barely get a chance to breathe when—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

your body flops onto the couch, too dazed to react. eren turns his head. you both look up and there’s everyone.

jean, connie, mikasa, armin all standing in the doorway with wide eyes and dropped jaws, holding snacks like they’ve just walked into a horror movie.

jean’s mouth is open like he’s trying to scream but forgot how. armin’s staring at the floor, face beet red. mikasa’s blinking like her brain’s buffering. connie’s just holding a bag of chips and whispering, “damn.”

you and eren look at each other, then back at them.

“…shit,” you both say at the same time.

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome back to solè’s bar🍸

tonight’s special: connie springer, one year married, and a yacht you may not survive.

· · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ·

→ connie springer x black!reader

→ smut | modern au | married, rich & nasty, anniversary

→ tags: f!reader, yacht sex, cunnilingus, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk

· · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ·

the sea glistened like glass beneath you, sunlight splintering off the mediterranean waves.

italy was showing out. and honestly? so were you.

you lay stretched across a cream sunbed on the deck of your private yacht, body kissed golden from the sun, that little black bikini hugging every curve with disrespectful precision. a mimosa half-empty beside you, unread book face down on your chest, glimmering ring catching every sunbeam. one year married. one whole year with connie springer.

and you still felt like the luckiest woman alive.

footsteps padded up from below deck. you didn’t even have to look. you could feel the shift in the air.

“damn,” connie muttered, grinning down at you. “you tryna get me killed in broad daylight?”

you cracked an eye open, lips curving.

he stood there in nothing but swim trunks, abs glistening with leftover saltwater, gold chain resting on his chest, eyes glued to your thighs.

“you walked up here shirtless,” you said, sitting up slowly,but i’m the problem?”

connie didn’t even try to hide his stare. “look at my wife,” he said under his breath like it was too much. “sittin’ pretty. out here lookin’ all beautiful and shit

you rolled your eyes, grinning. “boy, shut up.”

“nah, don’t ‘boy’ me,” he said, walking over to kiss your forehead, then your shoulder, slow and soft. “and i saw the way you was starin’ at me when i got out that water.”

you scoffed. “so i can’t look at my own husband no more?”

“you can,” he said, laying down beside you on the sunbed, “but them eyes was sayin’ somethin’ else.”

you smirked, but didn’t answer. just stood up, walking to the edge of the deck. the view stretched out in front of you like a dream open water, cliffs in the distance, some rich italian couple on another yacht a few miles away. you leaned on the railing, letting the breeze kiss your skin.

behind you, you could feel his gaze on your body. your ass. your legs. your everything.

connie walked up, standing behind you, warm chest pressing against your back, arms sliding around your waist.

“goddamn,” he murmured, breath brushing your ear. “look at you.”

you melted just a little in his hold. he kissed your temple. “you look so good, baby.”

“do i?” you asked, voice playful.

he squeezed your waist. “stop playin’. all this?” he ran his hands down your hips. “this mine. forever. you know how crazy that makes me?”

you held up your left hand, let the sunlight hit the ring. it gleamed like it had its own spotlight.

“show me that again,” he whispered.

you held your hand higher. he kissed your knuckles, then your palm. “look at that shit. biggest flex of my life.”

you turned around slowly, pressing your body against his. “you bein’ sentimental?”

he smirked. “nah, i’m bein’ real. i got the most beautiful woman alive. and we made it a year. you know what that means?”

you cocked your head, curious. “what?”

“i’m bout to treat you like royalty. again.”

his voice dipped on the last word, and something in your stomach flipped. the hunger in his eyes focused.

you toyed with the waistband of his swim shorts, fingers light, teasing.

he raised an eyebrow. “that what you wanna do?”

“i’m just touchin’,” you said, sweet and innocent.

“uh huh.”

you sank to your knees on the smooth teak deck, sun painting your skin gold. your diamond ring caught the light as you reached up, tugging his shorts down.

his cock was already hard thick, long, that pretty pink tip glistening in the sun.

you looked up at him. smiled. wrapped your hand around him, slow.

and then you kissed the tip.

he hissed through his teeth. “fuck, baby…”

you suck on his tip, slow at first, lips wrapped around that soft pink head while your eyes never leave his. your hands work the rest of his shaft, both of them stroking him with gentle pressure while you take more of him in your mouth.

“just like that,” he groans, voice already hoarse. his fingers twitch at his sides. “there you go. fuck, baby… you doin’ so good.”

you hum around him, tongue swirling, jaw relaxing to take him deeper.

he lets his head fall back for a second, breathing uneven, then looks down at you like you’re unreal.

“shit. baby”he mutters. “you gon make me fall in love with you all over again.”

you blink up at him, eyes wide and warm, spit glistening on your lips. you keep going, sucking him off like he’s the only man that’s ever existed, and it’s driving him wild.

he grips your arms, pulls himself gently from your mouth, and helps you to your feet.

his kiss is messy this time open-mouthed, desperate, tasting himself on your tongue. then he turns you around, guiding you until you’re facing the railing again, the wide open sea sparkling below.

“gonna fuck you to this view,” he says, voice low, rough in your ear. he he looks down at your ass, gives it a slow squeeze before smacking it, palm landing with a loud clap that makes you gasp.

he slides your bikini to the side and groans when he sees how wet you already are.

he chuckles, rubbing his fingers between your folds. “this all from suckin’ my dick, huh? or just the thought of me fuckin’ you right here?”

you whimper when he brushes your clit, hips twitching under his touch.

“you feel that?” he whispers, right by your ear. “she talkin’ to me. real loud too.”

he leans down and kisses your neck, fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit, just enough to make your thighs twitch.

“connie,” you moan, your voice catching in your throat.

he hums like he didn’t hear you, slips two fingers inside you slow, real slow, til they’re buried to the knuckle.

you suck in a breath as he starts to move them—slow curls, dragging against your walls, thumb rubbing your clit like he’s done this a thousand times. and he has.

“shittt… she wet as hell,” he says, pulling his fingers out just to see them glisten. he taps your pussy with them, light little slaps that make you jump. “look how she openin’ up.

you whimper, biting your lip, and he grins.

“nah, don’t start actin’ shy now,” he teases, pushing his fingers back in. “you the one who got on this lil ass bikini wit’ all that ass out… got me walkin’ around this boat hard as shit.

he fucks his fingers into you deeper, faster, curling them up until you whine.

“say that shit,” he mutters. “say whose pussy it is.”

“yours, fuck connie, it’s yours.”

“louder, mama. let everyone know”

“it’s yours!” you cry, voice shaking.

he smirks, thumb back on your clit, rubbing tight circles while his fingers keep fucking you open.

“that’s right,” he groans, breath hot on your ear. “this mine. mine to stretch. mine to taste. mine to ruin.”

your legs start shaking and he notices immediately, holds you tighter.

“you gon’ cum for me?” he whispers. “you gon’ make a fuckin’ mess all over my hand, huh?”

you nod, barely breathing.

“yeah, do it. squirt all over me, mama. let me feel that pretty pussy lose control.”

your body jerks, the orgasm hitting hard and fast, your legs trembling as you squirt on his fingers, loud moans pouring from your mouth.

“fuck yes,” he moans. “there she go. goddamn.”

he pulls out slow, his fingers dripping, then licks them clean right in front of you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, sucking the last drop from his knuckle. he pulls down his shorts, his cock springs out thick and heavy. he strokes it twice, slow and lazy, eyes locked on you. then he pulls your bikini to the side, aligning himself with your hole.

he pushes in and you both moan at the feeling, the stretch making your eyes flutter.

you brace yourself on the edge of the yacht, back arched, mouth falling open.

“fuck baby… you feel so good,” he groans, hips already meeting yours in deep, slow strokes.

you moan loud, trying to keep yourself steady, but it’s overwhelming. every thrust hits deep, your pussy already clenching around him.

you try to scoot forward, hips twitching, but he grabs your arm and pulls it behind your back.

“nah, don’t run,” he growls in your ear. “take it. that’s it. i know you can.”

“fuck con,” you whine, voice high and needy. your walls clamp down around him and he feels it.

“you hear her talkin to me?” he smirks. “this pussy love me.”

he keeps fucking into you hard and slow, his pace deep, you feel yourself get even wetter, cream leaking around his cock. you squirt out of nowhere, legs shaking.

“there you go. goddamn,” he mutters, pulling out just to slap his tip against your clit, watching the mess you made. “look at this pussy. soaking for me.”

he grabs your hand, guiding you back to the sunbed. he lays down, chest rising, cock slick and hard. you climb on top of him without a word.

you sink down on his dick again, moaning as he stretches you out all over again.

“fuckk,” he groans, head falling back. “that’s it mama, ride your dick.”

you start to bounce, hips moving in slow circles, hands planted on his chest. you bite your lip, eyes low.

“rub her for me,” he breathes.

you reach down, rubbing your clit fast as you ride him. your moans spill out without warning, eyes fluttering shut.

“it feel good huh? look at you,” he groans. “so fuckin beautiful. so sexy.

you lean over, lips brushing his ear, voice low and sweet.

“it’s my dick.”

he groans loud, hands gripping your waist tighter.

“fuck it, it’s your dick. all yours. ride your shit, baby.”

“you gon give me all of it?”

“every drop.”

you bounce harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you. your orgasm comes fast and sharp, pussy clenching as you squirt again. your thighs shake, moans spilling out uncontrollably.

“connie, i’m cumming, fuck—”

“cum on it. do that shit. let me feel it.”

he fucks up into you while you ride it out, eyes rolled back. his strokes turn messy as he grabs your ass, holding you down and filling you up, his cum spilling deep inside.

you both breathe heavy, stuck together and slick with heat. you slowly lift off him, his cum dripping out of you, sliding down your thigh.

you giggle, looking down at the mess.

he grins. “you think the captain heard us?”

you shrug, still breathless. “he definitely did.”

and you both laugh, tangled and glowing under the italian sun.

· · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ·

[alaiasole]

🍸welcome to solè’s bar.🍸

tonight’s special: onyankopon — rage practice & head therapy

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

→footballplayer!onyankopon x black!reader

→ smut | modern au | he’s mad after practice. you handle it.

→ tags: f!reader,oral (f!giving),unprotected sex,dirty talk aftercare

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

it’s a chill evening. you’re curled up on the couch in your little pajama set soft, thin, the tv hums low in the background, something you’ve half-watched while scrolling on your phone. you’re relaxed. cozy.

then you hear the front door unlock.

your head lifts slightly.

click.

he steps in.

onyankopon.shoulders broad and jaw sharp, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, wearing that tight black compression shirt and some low-hanging grey sweats that sit just right. his skin’s still glistening slightly from the cold night air. he kicks the door closed with his heel and just stands there for a second.

he looks pissed.

is it bad that your first thought is: damn… he looks so good like this.

he sees you on the couch and makes his way over without a word. his face is tight, unreadable, but his body moves on muscle memory he leans down, kisses your cheek, pulls you into a one-armed hug that lingers longer than it should for someone that mad.

you blink up at him, all sweet.“rough day?” you ask.

his jaw tightens. he nods once. “you could say that,” he mutters. his voice is low,.“i’m gonna shower.”

he walks off. jaw clenched, back tight, arms swinging just a little harder than usual. the bathroom door shuts with a solid click.

and you just sit there.

…kinda turned on.

like, why did that make your coochie jump?

you bite your lip. a little smirk creeps in. this man is fine all the time, but angry? frustrated? chest rising, lips pressed into a hard line, talking with that heavy silence like he’s trying not to take it out on anyone?

yeah. that does something to you.

you glance toward the bathroom. you wait.

and then you get up and walk over to your shared bedroom.

he’s mad. but he’s your man. and you’re about to turn that steam into something productive.

you’re laying on the bed, phone in hand, half-scrolling, half-listening to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.

minutes pass.

then the door opens.

onyankopon steps out hair damp, towel slung low around his waist, water dripping from his chest, trailing down the dips and lines of his abs. he doesn’t say anything. just walks straight into the closet. you peek at him through your lashes, pretending to still be on your phone.

he comes back out dressed in some loose grey sweats and a plain t-shirt, still drying off his neck with the towel. he climbs into bed next to you, grabbing his phone, but he’s not really on it. his face is tight again. not as sharp as before, but still heavy.

you study him quietly for a second, then slide your phone onto the nightstand. roll onto your side and press into his warmth, eyes soft. you scoot closer, watching him for a second you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, your voice calm. “what happened at practice?” you ask gently. “why you so mad?”

he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to keep it together. “coach was on bullshit again,” he mutters. “talking down. blaming me for shit that wasn’t even mine. i’m not stupid i know what it is. he’s picking at me.”

you run your fingers along his arm, soothing. “you don’t deserve that, baby.”

he looks at you, eyes tired. “it’s just frustrating. i work too hard to be treated like that. and it’s not even just me. it’s the whole team. the energy’s fucked up now.”

“and you feel all of it,” you say quietly,”cause you’re sensitive. you feel everything. it gets in your body.”

he nods. “we’re connected. if the vibe’s off, i feel it.”

you press another kiss to his jaw, your voice warm. “yeah, but baby… you gotta protect yourself too. you can’t hold all that weight all the time.”

he doesn’t answer. just breathes a little deeper.

you slide your hand over his stomach, fingertips brushing the hem of his shirt. “you need to stop stressing,” you whisper. “it’s not good for you.”

his voice is soft now. “i’m trying.”

you smile, eyes still on him. “let me help.”

you drag your fingers lower, slow and gentle, caressing the dips of his abs. his muscles twitch under your touch. he watches you, lips parted like he’s about to say something, but then your hand drifts even lower, tracing along the waistband of his sweatpants.

“you gotta start relaxing,” you say, featherlight. “let me take care of you.”

you cup him through his sweats—he’s already heavy, warm. your palm presses in slow, rubbing soft.

he hisses between his teeth. “baby…”

you smirk, voice dipped in honey. “shh. just relax.”

you tug the waistband down and his cock springs free, hard and waiting. you look up at him from between his legs, big eyes gleaming.

“let me help you forget everything.”

you lower your head, licking a slow stripe from base to tip, your tongue warm and wet and teasing. his hips jerk, breath catching in his throat.

“fuck…”

you wrap your lips around his tip, suck gently, then sink down deeper, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat.

“shit, just like that…”

you moan around him low and deep and the vibration makes him groan, his hand finding your hair. you bob your head slow at first, building rhythm, spit dripping down onto your hands, your chest, your sheets.

your throat’s stuffed full but your eyes never leave his. he’s falling apart under you head back, chest rising, abs clenching every time you sink lower.

“goddamn,” he mutters, voice hoarse. “that mouth… baby…”

you gag on it a little, spit sliding down your chin, but you don’t stop. you want him dizzy. soft. putty. he grips the sheets groaning.

you pull off with a pop, spit connecting your lips to his tip. and then you go right back down—ready to make him forget every single thing but the way your mouth feels wrapped around him.

you use both hands, twisting at the base while your mouth works his tip, spit dripping down your wrists. his thighs tense, one hand on the back of your head, pushing—not too hard, but enough to let you know he’s close.

“fuck, baby… i’m bout to cum…”

you keep going. sucking deeper. faster. your eyes roll back as you moan around him, and he groans so loud it echoes off the walls. he bucks his hips once, twice and then he’s spilling down your throat. hot. thick. salty. you swallow it all like a good girl, slow and greedy.

before you can even wipe your mouth, he’s pulling you up “c’mere”grabbing your waist and sliding you into his lap, straddling his thick thighs.

he kisses you. full tongue, no hesitation. hand in your hair, breathing hard, like he’s trying to taste himself on your lips.

you melt into it. moaning into his mouth.

and then he flips you. like nothing. strong hands gripping your hips, spinning you so you’re under him. he kisses your neck, trails his mouth down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin like he wants to mark it.

“you so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs between kisses. “sittin pretty on this bed, actin innocent… you was just suckin me like you tryna snatch my soul”

his hand slips under your shorts, fingers rubbing slow, soft circles over your clit.

you gasp. hips twitching. “ony…”

he kisses you again, deeper this time. two fingers rubbing your clit just right, and you’re moaning in his mouth, legs already shaking.

“you needed this, huh?” he breathes. “wanted me all mad so i’d fuck it outta you?”

you whimper. “maybe…”

“mmhm.” he pulls your shorts down slow. you take off your shirt. bare now, under his heavy gaze.

“turn over,” he says, voice dark and low.

you obey.

he slides in slow, groaning as he bottoms out. your pussy tight, wet, hugging every inch. he stays there for a second, hand on your ass, hips flush against yours.

“this how you wanna relieve my stress?” he mutters, grinding slow. “with that perfect lil pussy?”

you moan, face buried in the sheets. “yes.”

he starts to move. deep, strong strokes. the kind that clap loud, that make the bed knock against the wall. you arch your back, biting your lip, trying to fuck back like he wants.

“c’mon,” he grunts, slapping your ass. “fuck back for me. lemme feel that shit.”

you try. hips moving. but he’s too deep, too good. your body starts to fold under the pressure.

“i can’t,” you whine.

“yes you can,” he says, grabbing your waist, drilling into you harder. “this what you wanted, right?”

you nod into the mattress, moaning like crazy. “mhm yes fuck, yes.”

he puts one leg up on the bed, foot planted, and starts to fuck into you deeper. harder.

“yeah,” he groans. “take it.”

you moan out. not even words. just a mess of sounds and whimpers as his cock stretches you out, fucking into the softest parts of you.

you start trying to crawl forward, weakly. he grabs your hips and yanks you back.

“where you goin’?” he pants. “nah. take it.”

you’re rolling into the sheets, fingers clawing at the bedspread. “ony baby i can’t—”

“yes you can.” his strokes get deeper. more punishing. “you made me feel better, right? now i’m returnin’ the favor.”

he hits your spot so good it makes your toes curl. your whole body trembling.

“shit, this pussy so fuckin’ good,” he grunts. “got me ready to lose my mind.”

and then he pulls out with a groan, stroking himself fast.

you barely turn your head before you feel it—thick ropes of cum hitting your ass, warm and wet, painting your skin in heavy, hot streams. so much. way more than expected.

you blink, dazed, trying to catch your breath.

he leans over, kissing your back. “damn…” he whispers. “you drained the fuck outta me.”

you laugh, breathless. “you’re welcome.”

he kisses your shoulder. “you good?”

you hum

he disappears for a moment, and you feel the bed shift as he comes back with a warm towel. he’s quiet, focused, gentle cleaning you up like you’re something delicate. something he treasures.

“thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft, lazy, still swimming in the afterglow.

he tosses the towel to the side and slides back into bed, pulling you into him. his arms wrap around you, broad and warm, and you sink into his chest like it’s the only place you’re supposed to be.

fingers trace slow patterns along your spine. the room is quiet now, just the soft hum of the tv and your steady breathing. you rest your head on his shoulder.

“so…” you whisper, lips brushing against his skin. “did i relieve your stress?”

he chuckles low, kissing your forehead.

“yeah,” he says. “you did. more than i knew i needed.”

you smile to yourself, eyes fluttering shut.

mission accomplished.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[alaiasole]

♡ welcome back to solè’s bar ♡

tonight’s special: connie springer, paris nights, & a ring that changed everything.

→ connie springer x black!reader

→ fluff | proposal | modern au | anniversary under the eiffel tower

→ tags: f!reader,fluff,connie being in love(as he should)

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

so connie’s planning to propose. yeah, i know crazy. you guys have been together for three years, going on four, and he knows you’re his person. his soulmate. his everything. and he doesn’t see forever with anybody else but you.

he had this all planned out. the whole thing. months in the making. he bought the ring custom nothing off the shelf, because nothing basic could ever sit on your hand. and of course, he asked your parents for their blessing. told them he was ready to make you his wife. he meant every word.

he’s taking you to france paris, to be exact. the city of love. and like… what better place to ask the biggest question of his life?

he’s acting weird one night. pacing a little. scrolling through his phone like he’s checking something over and over. then he looks at you, all soft-eyed and fidgety.

“baby,” he says.

you glance up from the couch. “yeah?”

he scratches the back of his neck. “you know how our anniversary’s coming up?”

you nod, eyes narrowing a little. “uh huh…?”

he breathes out through his nose, like he’s trying not to grin too hard. “we’re going to paris.”

“CONNIE—YOU BEING SERIOUS??”

he laughs. “yup.”

“oh my god, i need to pack. i don’t got nothing ready. nothing cute enough for paris. oh my god.”

“baby—relax,” he chuckles.

“what you mean relax?! i need to pack right now.” you’re already halfway to the bedroom, suitcase under your arm like your flight leaves in an hour.

he just stands there in the living room, watching you with this look like he’s in awe. like he still can’t believe you’re his. and in a few days, he’s gonna be on one knee in front of you, in the middle of paris, asking the only question that’s ever really mattered to him.

obviously, you booked all your appointments for this trip you needed to look cute. anniversary in paris? yeah, no way you were going over there looking regular. but what you didn’t know… was that connie had already hit up all your people. your nail tech, your hairstylist, your lash tech, your esthetician even your tailor. he told them everything. that he was proposing. that it needed to be perfect. that you had to feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

first stop? nails.

you showed your tech a simple nude set you were thinking about.

“mm,” she blinked at the picture. “cute, but no.”

you looked up. “huh?”

“girl you’re going to paris. for your anniversary. this don’t say ‘romance.’ this say ‘routine.’”

you blink. “okay but i don’t want nothin’ crazy.”

she smirked. “trust me. i got somethin’ that screams luxe. this for the soft girls in love. lemme cook.”

and honestly? you let her. and she ate. you were staring at your hands like, damn, these look expensive as hell.

next was lashes.

you laid back on the bed and showed her your usual inspo pic.

“mm,” she goes. “no, we switching it up today.”

“what? why?”

she giggles, brushing your lashes. “’cause it’s your anniversary, duh. and you about to be in france. we doing a wispy hybrid. long and flirty. like you blinkin’ in slow motion.”

you raise a brow. “you tryna get me snatched by a parisian man.”

she laughs. “nah. just tryna make sure your man don’t take his eyes off you.”

hairstylist next.

you told her you wanted to keep it simple.

“…simple?” she frowned. “girl, no. we doing body. we doing volume. luxury. this a city-of-love hairstyle.”

you side-eye her. “okay, but you snappin’ a little too hard.”

she shrugs. “you tell me. i’m just making sure you look expensive.”

the esthetician?

girl. you walk in for your usual facial and she pulls out four different treatments.

you sit up like, “what are you doing to me?”

she goes, “girl, it’s your anniversary. and it’s paris. i need you glowing in every light. french sun? sparkling. hotel mirror? flawless.”

you just lay back, blushing. “y’all really tryna make me the finest one over there.”

she smirks. “you already are. i’m just enhancing.”

but the real moment?

your tailor. you asked her to make you something special for your anniversary dinner. nothing too extra, just a cute little something to wear while y’all ate under the lights.

you walk into her studio, and your jaw dropped.

“…what is this?”

she grinned. “your dress.”

you blinked, stepping closer. “yeah but like… damn.”

she giggled. “girl. you need to look good. okay?”

you’re staring at the silk, the details, the way it shimmers in the light. “you didn’t have to go this hard.”

she shook her head. “yes i did.”

“…why?”

she just smiled. “because i love you. now go try it on.”

when you got home and started packing, you were sitting on your bed like okay. why is everybody being so extra? all your appointments felt like something out of a movie. the upgrades, the glam, the little smirks and compliments.

but honestly? you didn’t think too hard about it.

it was your anniversary. in paris. of course they wanted you to look right.

and if this was how they were treating you now? you already knew this trip was about to be everything.

bags packed. passport ready.

you were about to be that girl in france.

you guys wake up early that morning sun barely peeking over the skyline, bags by the door, passports ready. connie keeps looking at you like he can’t believe this is real. y’all are really going to paris.

the flight is smooth. he’s knocked out for most of it, but you stay up watching movies and glancing over at him with his hoodie half-off his head, lips parted a little. he’s cute even when he drools.

when the plane lands, everything feels dreamy. you grab your bags, head through the airport, and hop in the car connie booked for y’all. paris is just… different.

there’s flowers on balconies. gold trim on the buildings. cobblestone streets. little cafés on every corner. everything looks like a movie.

you get to the hotel super luxury, obviously and connie helps you check in. the lobby smells expensive. like roses and bergamot.

when you get to the room, your jaw drops. there’s floor-to ceiling windows, a balcony with a view of the eiffel tower, and a massive bed with crisp white sheets. you both unpack, shower, throw on something cozy, and curl up in bed together. he’s warm, he smells good, and he falls asleep rubbing your back.

the next morning is the morning. your anniversary. the big day.

you both wake up early, bodies wrapped around each other, light pouring in from the windows. connie kisses your cheek. “happy anniversary, baby.”

you smile, sleepy-eyed. “happy anniversary, con.”

he already has the whole day planned. he orders breakfast up to the room croissants, fresh fruit, little coffee cups with foam hearts on top. you sit on the balcony, barefoot in robes, giggling and eating while watching the city wake up.

after that? it’s time to explore.

first stop: pont des arts — the love lock bridge.

you and connie stroll across the bridge, fingers laced together. people from all over the world are there, writing names on locks and clicking them onto the railings before tossing the key into the seine river below.

“we gotta do one,” connie says, already pulling out a lock from his pocket.

you blink. “you brought one?”

he shrugs, grinning. “of course.”

you write both your names on it connie + [your name] with a little heart next to it and lock it in place.

he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your forehead before you toss the key into the water.

next stop: louvre museum.

you walk hand in hand through the louvre, getting lost in all the paintings and sculptures. connie pretends to analyze the art like he’s deep.

“you see the way her eyes follow you? it’s symbolism. she in love with me.”

you roll your eyes. “boy, that’s the mona lisa.”

“exactly. she got taste.”

he makes you laugh the entire time. y’all take pictures, kiss under marble archways, and spend way too long trying to pronounce the french captions out loud.

next: picnic in the jardin des tuileries.

connie surprises you with a little picnic in one of the most beautiful gardens in paris. he picked up pastries and drinks from a nearby café and lays them out on a blanket in the grass.

you both sit together, leaning against each other, watching the people pass by. the trees sway, the sun warms your skin, and everything just feels perfect.

then: shopping in le marais.

he takes you to le marais one of the chicest little shopping districts. boutiques, bookstores, vintage perfume shops.

he lets you pick out whatever you want. tells you to try things on, keeps saying “you look so damn good” under his breath while you do.

he buys you a necklace from a little jewelry store and puts it on for you, clasping it at the back and kissing your neck.

final stop before dinner: sunset boat ride on the seine river.

right before dinner, y’all get on a private boat and float along the river while the sun sets. the whole city glows pink and gold. he wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lean into him.

you see the notre dame, the eiffel tower, and the bridges glowing in the dusk light. everything is still.

it’s quiet. beautiful. intimate.

“best anniversary yet,” you whisper.

he smiles. “just wait.”

you just think he’s talking about the food.

you’re back in the hotel room, soft music playing in the background as the sun begins to set behind the parisian skyline. your ivory gown hangs from the closet door, and the glow from the golden hour light spills across the fabric like honey. you step into the dress slowly, smoothing it down your hips, your breath catching at how it hugs you in all the right places. your hair’s laid, lashes fluttering, skin glowing and for a moment, you just stare at yourself in the mirror. damn. you look… breathtaking.

the door opens behind you.

“baby,” connie’s voice is low, warm, in awe. you turn around and he’s standing there in a custom suit, dark and sharp, gold accents on the cufflinks that match your jewelry. his mouth is slightly open, like he lost his words the second he saw you.

“you look beautiful,” he says, walking closer. “fuck. you really mine?”

you smile, cheeks warming. “you clean up good too, mr. springer.”

he wraps his arms around your waist, presses a kiss to your temple. “you ready?”

“yeah. let’s go.”

the restaurant is luxury. gold chandeliers, soft candlelight, smooth jazz from a live band in the corner. the view from the rooftop is unreal the eiffel tower peeking in the distance, glittering like it’s in on the secret. you and connie are tucked in a private booth, the entire vibe drenched in elegance.

he doesn’t take his eyes off you all dinner. you order the most expensive wine, a truffle pasta, and some fancy little desserts you can’t pronounce. he keeps his hand on your thigh, thumb tracing slow circles as you laugh about memories from your first date, your second anniversary, the time y’all got lost in the city and ended up finding the best food truck ever.

“you know,” connie says between sips of wine, his eyes soft, “i still can’t believe it’s been four years.”

you smile. “me either.”

“you changed my whole life.”

your breath hitches just slightly, his voice is that sincere.

he leans closer. “i’m serious. you gave me something real. something solid. i look at you, and i see home.”

your heart thuds. “you’re gonna make me cry,” you say, laughing a little, but he just shakes his head.

“you deserve to hear it. every day.”

a waitress approaches the table and says, “excuse me, sir. we need you to come sort something out real quick.”

connie stands, kisses your cheek. “i’ll be right back, baby.”

you blink. “is everything okay?”

he squeezes your hand. “yeah. just something minor, i think. don’t worry.”

he disappears with the waitress, and you’re left sipping your wine, candlelight flickering across your glass. you glance at your phone, glance at the sky. you’re wondering what’s going on when the waitress returns.

“hi, ma’am,” she says with a smile. “your partner’s ready for you now.”

you blink. “ready for me?”

she nods, still smiling. “if you’ll follow me.”

you stand, butterflies fluttering hard in your stomach. not scared, just… thrown off. you follow her through the restaurant, down a narrow hallway, and out a back exit that opens to a private courtyard.

it’s quiet.

your heels click softly against the cobblestone as she leads you down a small path framed by trees wrapped in fairy lights. you’re confused, still, trying to understand what’s happening. but then… the music starts.

soft.

familiar.

get you by daniel caesar and h.e.r.

your heart stutters.

you round the corner and your breath leaves your body completely.

because there, under the glowing paris night, the eiffel tower standing proud and lit behind him, is connie.

there’s a soft carpet of rose petals leading to him. an archway draped in white chiffon. candles glowing in tall glass vases. a live string quartet off to the side, their music swelling through the air. and him.

he’s standing in the middle of it all, hands clasped in front of him, watching you walk toward him like you’re the only thing he’s ever loved.

you stop, frozen.

“connie…”

he holds his hand out. “come here, baby.”

you walk slowly, heart hammering. when you reach him, he takes both of your hands in his.

his palms are shaking.

you look up at him and his eyes are already glassy. your vision is starting to blur too.

he drops to one knee.

you gasp, both hands covering your mouth. “oh my god…”

he takes a small box from his pocket velvet, deep navyand opens it to reveal a radiant custom ring, catching the light.

he looks up at you. voice trembling.

“my love,” he begins. “i don’t even know where to start. i’ve been thinking about this moment for months and somehow, standing here in front of you, all the words feel too small. nothing feels big enough to describe how i feel about you.”

“you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever known. inside and out. you’re the calm in my chaos. the soft place i land. you’ve held my hand through every high and low. you’ve celebrated me. challenged me. loved me when i didn’t even know how to love myself. and that? that’s not something i take for granted. not for a second.”

“i remember the first time you laughed at something i said like, genuinely laughed and i swear , i knew in that moment i was already gone. i didn’t know how, but i knew i was gonna love you for a long, long time. and baby… here we are.”

“you’ve shown me a kind of love that makes everything make sense. when the world doesn’t feel safe, you are. when things feel too heavy, you carry them with me. you’re strong and soft at the same time. you’re my peace. my favorite everything. you are what home feels like.”

“i wake up every day more in love with you than the last. i look at you and i see my future. and it’s not just the big things it’s the little ones, too. the way you scrunch your nose when you’re trying not to laugh. the way you say my name when you’re sleepy. the way you just… get me. without me saying a word.”

“you’ve made me better. made me whole. and i don’t ever want to do life without you.”

“so, i’m standing here… in paris, under this damn tower that everybody puts on postcards, trying not to cry too hard, just to ask you one thing.”

he breathes, heart in his throat.

“will you marry me?”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes,” you whisper, nodding fast. “yes, yes, yes.”

he slides the ring onto your finger, hands still trembling, and stands up just in time for you to throw your arms around his neck. he holds you like he’ll never let go. kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world.

the music swells.

paris glows behind you.

and in that moment, it’s just you and him.

forever.

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome to solè’s bar🍸

tonight’s special: armin arlert — date night, dirty thoughts & a love so sweet

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧ ˚₊

→ armin x black!reader

→ smut | modern au | reader being a menace and armin trying to keep it together

→ tags: f!reader, fingering, rose toy, soft dom!armin, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧ ˚₊

you and armin had been in a relationship for over a year now. y’all always made time for date nights no matter how busy, how tired, how chaotic the week was. tonight was one of those nights.

you were finishing the last touches on your hair, when your phone lit up.

armin’s here.

you smile a little, grabbing your purse and heading to the door. when you open it, there he is.

armin’s standing there, looking all soft and fine in that cream sweater you like on him, holding a big bouquet of roses like it’s still the first date. his cheeks are already tinted pink.

“you look… wow.” his voice is low, kinda breathless. “you look beautiful, baby.”

he leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, and then steps back, biting back a grin as he does a little motion with his finger. “spin for me?”

you do, turning around so he can see the back of your dress and he definitely takes his time. his eyes are all over you, trailing from the arch of your back to the curve of your hips. he licks his lips.

“you like it?” you ask, teasing a little.

he nods, dazed. “i love it. like… you look so good, it’s kinda illegal.”

you laugh, and he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“come on,” he says finally, grabbing your hand. “let’s go before i forget what i was even here for.”

y’all walk to the car, fingers intertwined. his thumb’s brushing over your hand the whole way, like he can’t stop touching you even for a second. he opens the passenger door for you like the gentleman he is just before you slide in, he leans in and gives your ass a playful lil slap.

you glance over your shoulder with a raised brow and a smirk. “you bold now?”

he just smiles, a little pink in the cheeks already. “had to.”

you sit, crossing your legs slow just to be cute, and he jogs around to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the car. music kicks on, the playlist y’all always argue over but secretly love. it’s one of your songs, something with a beat y’all both know word for word, and by the second chorus, you’re singing to each other, laughing between lines. his hand finds your thigh like it always does, warm and steady.

at the red light, he turns his head, eyes low.

“gimme a kiss.”

you lean in, giving him a soft peck, but he’s not done. his hand comes up, fingers curling gently around your neck as he pulls you back in, kissing you deeper this time. he’s still shy about it still not used to the way you make him feel like his heart’s doing backflips.

you finally pull back, lips a little glossy. “damn,” you whisper, just to mess with him.

he swallows hard, hands tightening on the wheel as he turns back to the road.

you get to the restaurant it’s a rooftop spot with pretty lights and flowers everywhere, candles on every table. armin gets out first, opens your door for you, takes your hand like you’re made of glass. he pulls out your chair when you get to the table, tucks you in before sitting across from you.

you’re scrolling through the menu when he sets his down, trying to focus.

“hm,” you say, tilting your head. “i don’t see you on the menu though.”

he chokes. literally chokes. glances up at you with wide eyes, red spreading across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“b-baby…”

you wink at him. “what? i’m just saying. i’d eat you up, respectfully.”

he’s silent, blinking slow like he’s buffering.

the waiter comes back just in time to save him, asking if y’all are ready to order.

the waiter takes your orders and walks away, and y’all settle in, soft music playing in the background. armin starts talking, sweet and casual he’s telling you about work, some project he’s excited about, but honestly… you’re not hearing a damn thing.

because why is he sitting across from you looking like that?

his hair’s just a little messy from the wind, those soft blond strands falling over his forehead, and you swear every time he brushes them back with those veiny ass hands, your brain goes static. and those eyes?? tyou feel like you’re being spiritually attacked. his lashes are too long. his lips are too pink. and his arms?? the way the sleeves of his button-down are rolled just enough to show the muscle?? the little vein on his forearm that pops when he moves his wrist?? you’re losing it.

you blink slow, biting your lip, gaze dropping to his hands again. they’re so nice. big and clean, the knuckles a little red like he’s been working. they look strong. like they could hold you down, stretch you out

ugh. god. you just know they’d feel so good fisted in your hair, or pressed flat on your—

“baby, are you listening?”

you blink fast, eyes wide as your head snaps up.

“mhm.”

your voice comes out all soft and breathy, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

he pauses, blinking at you like he’s trying to figure out what just happened. “…you okay?”

you nod fast, but you’re still staring, and now he’s the one blushing. his voice trips on the next sentence, stuttering all over his words as he fumbles with the napkin in his lap.

the food comes just in time to save you both. you dig in, laughing a little when he offers you a bite of his dish, and you do the same. it’s cute again. cozy. but he keeps looking at you from across the table like he knows what you were thinking about.

and you do not deny it.

you guys decide to get dessert something sweet to end the night. you order a brownie with ice cream, because of course you do, and it comes out still warm, the ice cream already starting to melt and drip over the sides.

“you’re not gonna share?” armin teases, raising an eyebrow.

you just smile at him, taking a slow bite, your eyes locked on his. “you can have some,” you say, voice innocent but the way you suck the spoon clean says otherwise.

he tries not to visibly react. tries.

you scoop up another bite, a little bit of the ice cream catching on the side of your bottom lip. you don’t say a word you just swipe it off with your finger, slow, and pop your finger in your mouth to suck it clean. eyes on him the entire time. armin freezes.

you tilt your head. “what?” you say, like you didn’t just ruin his entire night with one motion.

“nothing,” he says, voice tight, reaching for his water like it’s holy. he clears his throat, cheeks pink.

when the bill comes, he pays quick. you both thank the staff, and the walk to the car is quiet but it’s not awkward. it’s heavy. the kind of silence that makes your skin buzz. his hand is on your lower back as he opens the car door for you, and you feel the way his fingers linger just a little too long. you look at him as you sit down, and he looks back at you like he’s holding something in.

the drive back to his place is filled with soft music, streetlights passing, and tension so thick it’s nearly suffocating. his hand rests on your thigh again, warm and a little tighter than before. you don’t speak. you don’t have to. you just slide your hand over his, fingers curling gently.

by the time he parks, you’re already leaning in. he barely unlocks the front door before your lips are on his. it’s messy, heated, your fingers in his hair, his hands on your waist pulling you in like he’s starved. he fumbles with the lock, laughing under his breath when the door finally opens.

but the second it closes behind you, it’s on.

your back hits the wall, his mouth is on your neck, and you’re gasping.

“been thinking about you all night,” he mumbles, voice breathless. “you drive me crazy.”

you smile against his lips. “yeah?”

he laughs again, just a soft sound into your skin, then lifts you up like it’s nothing.

you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on, eyes locked on his.

“what?” you whisper.

he shakes his head, gaze flickering between your eyes and lips.

“you’re just so damn pretty.”

he carries you to the bedroom like you weigh nothing, like you belong there his arms wrapped around you tight, careful but firm. he lays you down slowly, his lips finding yours again, soft and patient this time. he takes his time unzipping your dress, eyes flickering down your body like he’s committing it to memory.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, kissing down your neck, down your collarbone. “every time i see you… it hits me all over again.”

you bite your lip, cheeks warm. your dress slips off your body, pooling at your waist before he gently tugs it all the way off. his fingers slide down your sides, then lower, rubbing slow circles over your panties. the pressure makes you whine, legs twitching under his touch.

but before you can even get the words out armin he rips them.

“armin!” you gasp, staring at him wide-eyed.

he just shrugs, mouth curved into that quiet, mischievous smile of his.

“they were in the way,” he says softly, eyes sparkling.

your legs are already spread for him when he leans over to kiss your thigh. and then you see it.

he reaches over to the nightstand, pulls out the small, pink rose toy, and your eyes narrow.

“oh, so this is what we’re doing tonight?”

he nods, positioning himself between your thighs. “mhm. lay back, hold your thighs for me, baby.”

you do as you’re told, arms wrapping under your knees, thighs pushed up just right. and then the toy touches your clit light, teasing and your breath catches.

“armin—”

“shh, i got you,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. “just let go. let me take care of you.”

the toy moves in small circles, and your hips twitch up, needing more. he watches you unravel, biting his lip when your moans start slipping out without control. he talks you through it whispers in your ear as the rose works its magic.

“that feel good, baby?”

“you’re so pretty like this, all laid out f’me.”

“you close? yeah? go ahead, angel. cum for me.”

and you do. hard. your whole body shakes, thighs trembling, fingers gripping tight around your legs as the pleasure washes over you. he presses kisses up your stomach, onto your chest, holding you until the waves pass.

and then he climbs up onto the bed.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing your hair back from your face.

you nod, eyes hazy. “i love you.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again.

“i love you more.”

he kisses you so sweet you almost forget how hard his cock is pressed against your thigh. almost.

his hands are everywhere one cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your bottom lip while the other trails down your stomach. he pulls away from the kiss just to look at you.

“i’ve been thinking about this all night,” he whispers. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you gasp as his fingers dip between your thighs again, sliding through your slick, teasing you with how slow he moves. he bites his lip watching you squirm, then pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean, moaning like you’re his favorite dessert.

“so fucking sweet.”

he shifts back just enough to kneel between your legs, cock resting heavy in his palm. he strokes himself slow, watching your eyes drop to it thick, flushed, leaking at the tip.

“you want it, baby?” he asks, voice low and sweet and filthy.

you nod, biting your lip.

“say it.”

“i want it, armin. please.”

he smirks, the tiniest tilt of his lips, then leans forward and starts rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds. up, down, slow circles around your clit that make your hips jerk.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs. “fuck you hear that?”

the sound is nasty. slick, hot, soaked. he drags the head of his cock through it again, pressing right against your entrance without going in. just teasing. just watching you fall apart before he even gives you anything.

he taps the tip against your pussy, lets it glide between your lips, then slaps it just once and you gasp, legs twitching.

“you ready?” he asks, breathing a little heavier now.

“mhm.”

he pushes in slow. so slow you whine, trying to rock your hips to meet him. but he holds your waist down, control all his, dragging it out so you feel every inch.

“oh, fuck,” he groans when he bottoms out. his voice shakes. “you’re so tight shit, i’m not gonna last.”

he pauses there, just buried deep in your heat, trying to catch his breath. your walls flutter around him and he moans again, head dropping to your shoulder.

“you feel like heaven, baby.”

he pulls out halfway and thrusts back inslow, deliberate. your mouth drops open.

he keeps that pace at first, just savoring it. deep, steady strokes that have your toes curling, his name slipping out between moans. he watches your face, eyes half-lidded, breathless.

“look at me,” he whispers. “don’t look away. i wanna see you fall apart.”

he speeds up just a little, hips slapping against yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other finds your clit. he rubs it in soft, slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

he speeds up just a little, hips slapping against yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other finds your clit. he rubs it in soft, slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

your back arches under him, a gasp spilling from your lips as the pressure builds so fast it almost scares you. his thumb stays right there, gentle but steady, as his hips rock deeper like he’s memorizing the shape of you from the inside.

“you’re so good,” he breathes out, like he can’t believe it. “feels so good, baby i can feel you gripping me.”

your eyes flutter, mouth falling open. he watches the way your lashes tremble, the way your thighs start to shake. you can’t even speak, just soft moans and broken whimpers as he rolls his hips into yours like he’s trying to melt into you.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice full of awe. “you’re so perfect like this.”

his fingers on your clit pick up just the slightest bit of speed, just enough to make your body jolt. your legs try to close around him, overwhelmed by the sensation, but he presses them back open, wide for him.

“no, no keep ‘em open,” he pants, breath hot against your cheek. “lemme see all of you. lemme see how pretty you look when i’m making you cum.”

your hand grips the sheets, knuckles white. his thrusts get a little deeper, a little rougher, but still full of that aching care, like every stroke is a confession. his cock drags against that spot inside you again and again until your whole body tenses.

you moan his name, nearly a cry, and he leans down to kiss you soft and slow while your world unravels.

“that’s it,” he whispers against your lips, not stopping. “you’re doing so good for me. come on, let go, baby i got you.”

“you’re so beautiful,” he says. “you make me feel so fuck so good. i love you. i love you so much.”

your hands claw at his back, nails digging in as he grinds into you deeper.

“you’re gonna make me cum, armin,” you cry out.

“yeah?” his voice is all breathy moans now. “cum for me, baby. i wanna feel it. wanna feel you squeeze me.”

you fall apart with his name on your lips, body shaking as your orgasm crashes over you. your pussy clenches around him so tight his rhythm stutters, a desperate moan tearing from his throat.

“oh—i’m cumming—fuck—”

he slams in one last time and holds you close as he spills inside, hips twitching through every pulse. he groans deep into your neck, voice cracked, breath hot against your skin.

he stays there, buried in you, catching his breath while he whispers, “i love you. i wanna give you everything.”

you just hum, too fucked out to speak, body limp and warm as he kisses your forehead.

your body trembles as the waves of your orgasm fade, muscles soft and spent beneath him. he slows his hips, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips whispering sweet little “i love you”s between each one.

he’s gentle pulling out of you, careful not to startle your overstimulated body. you whimper just a little, and he hushes you with another kiss.

“shh, i got you,” he murmurs.

he grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, coming back to clean you up with soft, soothing touches. you flinch once from how sensitive you are, but he kisses your thigh, an apology resting right there in his eyes.

“still with me?” he asks with a half-smile, brushing your hair back from your forehead.

you nod, hazy and blissed out, letting him pull the covers back and tuck you into bed. he slides in beside you, chest bare and warm, and pulls you right into him.

your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. his fingers trace lazy circles on your back, your cheek nuzzled against him.

“you okay?” he asks quietly.

“mhm. perfect.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i love you.”

you hum back, already sinking into sleep, safe and loved in his arms.

“good night, baby.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧ ˚₊

a/n: thank you guys so much for the support you have been giving me i really appreciate it 🫶🏾🩷

[alaiasole]

💫 welcome back to solè’s bar. today’s special: one “current boyfriend” & six hurt feelings. how i think the aot boys will react to reader calling them their current bf

→ fluff | modern au | boyfriend reactions | black!reader implied

→ tags: fluff, humor, black!reader, boyfriend moments, tiktok prank au

⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆

eren

“hey guys! sooo today i’m vlogging with my current boyfriend—”

he turns his head so fast like.

“current??”

you try not to laugh, still looking at the camera, still tryna keep it cute:

“yeahhh, my current boyfriend.”

he stares. blinks. stares some more.

“current like… you plan on getting a new one?”

“or current like i’m the only one there’s ever gonna be?”

pauses the video. deadass.

“nah, say that again. run it back.”

“say only boyfriend ever. matter fact say soulmate. say forever.”

you’re giggling like “ok ok damn” and he’s just looking at you like:

“don’t play with me like that ever again.”

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩✩𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩✩𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

armin

“hey guys! sooo today we’re doing a mukbang. anddd as a special guest, i have my current boyfriend!”

he pauses mid-fry. slowly turns to you.

“current??”

you’re tryna hold your laugh while he blinks like he just got hit.

“wait… current like… like temporary? like trial period? like… limited-time offer??”

he pouts immediately. full-on baby face.

“are you being serious right now?”

“so we’re not gonna be together forever?”

“you’re just gonna throw me away when you’re bored?”

you’re crying laughing now and he’s still going.

“no, it’s fine. just let me know when the breakup is so i can pack my things.”

“i can’t believe i opened your sauce packets for this.”

he folds his arms and faces away dramatically but still eats the fries

“don’t touch my nuggets. fake girlfriend.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊✧ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆

levi

“okayyy so today i’m doing a lil outfit rating video, and my current boyfriend is gonna be giving his thoughts on what i wear—”

he ends the video.

no warning.

no reaction.

just clicks the phone and the screen goes black.

off-camera, it’s silent for like two seconds before—

“why the fuck would you say that.”

you’re giggling and he is not amused.

“no, seriously. what the fuck are you on about.”

“current? like i’m replaceable?”

“you trying to be funny or you just purposely pissing me off?”

he’s staring at you like you called him short in public.

“you think this shit’s cute? you wanna be single or sum?”

you’re laughing and he’s just rubbing his temples like he regrets falling in love.

“nah. don’t touch me. i’m annoyed.”

⋆｡˚❀˖° ⋆⁺₊˚ 🪽 ⋆｡˚❀˖° ⋆⁺₊˚

connie

“okay hey guys! so today i’m doing a little storytime about how i met my current boyfriend—”

“yo. hold on. current??”

he was grinning at first. cheesin’ hard.

kicking his feet a little in the background.

but when that current hit his ear, his face changed IMMEDIATELY

“nah nah nah. run that back. current who? current where? current why?”

he gets up.

starts pacing in the background like he’s on the phone with the government.

“you must be talking about some other man cause me and you? we locked in. spiritually. eternally. i’m your last stop. i’m your final boss. we gon’ die together.”

you’re laughing and he’s dead serious.

“you sayin ‘current’ like i’m some lil temp assignment. girl i’m your forever. i’m your husband.”

then he gets quiet… and dramatic.

“wow. all that time i spent playin animal crossing with you. all those tacos i bought. and i’m just your current boyfriend. okay. okay. say less.”

storms off. comes back 2 minutes later with his hoodie strings tied tight like a mad toddler.

“nah but for real delete that part. i ain’t no fuckin’ current anything. i’m the one.”

𓂃 ࣪˖ 💌 ˚｡𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

onyankopon

“hey guys, so today i’m gonna be doing a lil day-in-the-life vlog with my current boyfriend—”

he doesn’t even let you finish the sentence.

“nah. don’t say that.”

he’s not laughing.

just looking at you like… be serious.

“what the fuck is ‘current’ supposed to mean?”

you try to giggle and play it off but he’s just shaking his head.

“baby, stop playing with me. you know better than that.”

he’s looking at you like you just disrespected the whole relationship. all ten toes down in his manhood.

“i’m your only boyfriend. your forever boyfriend. current doesn’t exist.”

and then he kisses you on the cheek and goes back to driving like nothing happened.

off-camera he’s like:

“don’t even post that. i’m not finna be out here lookin like some temp. stop tryna be funny.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

jean

“hey guys! so today i’m gonna be doing a lil get ready with me featuring my current boyfriend—”

jean immediately stops brushing your hair like—

“…current?”

he tries to laugh but it doesn’t land.

you look up and he’s just staring at you in the mirror, wide-eyed and confused.

“baby… why would you say that?”

you giggle and keep going but he’s stuck on it.

soft voice, all pouty now.

“like… you don’t actually mean that, right?”

“you’re just joking?”

“right?”

his hands drop from your shoulders.

you look back and he’s visibly sad.

“you said ‘current’ like… like i’m temporary. like you’re gonna replace me or something…”

you go to reassure him and he leans into it IMMEDIATELY.

arms around your waist. forehead pressed to your cheek.

“say you’re sorry.”

“say i’m your forever boyfriend.”

“say you love me the most.”

you’re laughing now and he’s like:

“no. i’m serious. that hurt. my heart lowkey dropped.”

⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆｡°��₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆｡°✩₊˚.⋆

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome to solè’s bar🍸

tonight’s special: you’re pulling the itching prank on connie mid-relationship Q&A and he spirals (obviously)

⭑ ───────── 🥂 ───────── ⭑

→ connie x black!reader

→ fluff | modern au | relationship banter, dramatic reactions, connie spiraling (as he should)

﹒✧˚⁎⁺˳✧༚﹒

you set up the camera on the counter, hitting record before walking over to connie. you’re both standing in the kitchen, matching pjs on looking a little too cute for your own good.

“okay, hey guys,” you smile into the camera. “today we’re gonna be answering some of y’all’s questions about our relationship.”

connie leans into frame. “yeah, and she better not lie,” he says, pointing at you with mock seriousness.

he reads the first question off his phone.

“who said ‘i love you’ first?”

you don’t even hesitate.

“he did.”

“i mean, what can i say?” connie shrugs, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “i’m in love. just look at her.”

you twirl dramatically for the camera. connie just stands there cheesing like you hung the damn moon. he smacks your ass without thinking.

“goofy,” you mutter under your breath, grinning.

but inside?

you’re already plotting.

he has no idea what’s coming.

﹒✧˚⁎⁺˳✧༚﹒

“how did y’all meet?” you read off the next question.

“so we met through sasha,” connie starts, excited. “she introduced us at this party, right? i was tryna act cool but she—”

you quietly scratch between your legs. subtle. calculated.

he pauses, catches it, but keeps talking.

“—she came in lookin all cute, and i—”

you do it again. this time, way more exaggerated.

“are you good?” he asks, brow raised.

“it just itches,” you shrug, completely serious.

“continue answering the question,” you say, keeping a straight face.

he sighs and keeps talking. you scratch again harder this time.

he stops.

stares.

“what’s going on with you?”

“nothing, it just itches.”

you’re barely holding in your laughter.

“…it was that girls trip, huh.”

you blink. “connie, please. what are you trying to say?”

“did you cheat on me? you got burnt or something?”

your jaw drops.

“CONNIE—what?! i didn’t cheat!”

you burst out laughing, doubling over.

“okay but like you came back from jamaica two days ago, and now you itchin’? what else am i supposed to think?!”

“it was those guys by the rafts, huh?”

he squints.

“just be honest did you cheat?”

you’re wheezing now.

“it’s a prank,” you gasp, holding your stomach from laughing so hard.

he sighs. deep. betrayed.

“really? you had me thinking you cheated on me… in jamaica?”

he’s pouting. arms crossed. full dramatics unlocked.

“baby, i would never cheat on you,” you say, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek.

“you owe me after this.”

“owe you what?” you grin.

“end the video.”

“why?”

“end. the. video.”

“why?”

“man, stop playin’ with me—”

before you can blink, he lifts you over his shoulder.

“CONNIE!” you squeal, giggling as he walks off.

“i’m sorry!”

“nah, you about to be real sorry,” he mutters.

the camera is still rolling.

﹒✧˚⁎⁺˳✧༚﹒

[alaiasole]

🏖️ welcome back to solè’s bar 🏖️

. tonight’s special: connie springer, a bottle of sunscreen, & a heatwave hiding under the cabana.

→ connie x black!reader | smut | modern au | beach day, sunscreen flirting, private tension, and a cabana with no rules

→ tags: oral(m+f),69,backshots,squirting,connie being so obsessed (as he should), dirty talk

⋆｡°✩₊˚๑⋆｡˚☀˚｡⋆๑˚₊✩°｡⋆

you’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of your bikini under your sheer little cover-up. it’s not even that serious, you tell yourself you’re just going to the beach. but when you catch a glimpse of your reflection again, yeah… it’s giving.

you don’t even hear connie come up behind you until you feel a sharp smack to your ass.

“damn,” he mutters behind you, voice low and eyes glued to your figure. “you look so good, mama.”

you smirk a little. “thank you.”

his hands slip around your waist, lips brushing your neck. “let’s stay home.”

“connie don’t start,” you warn, trying not to laugh.

“baby,” he groans playfully, mouth at your ear now. “just a little taste.”

you push his chest lightly. “i didn’t get dressed just to stay home. c’mon. let’s go.”

he sighs like you just ruined his whole plan but follows you out the door anyway, keys in hand.

the drive to the beach is easy, warm air rushing in through the cracked windows, music playing low while he rests a hand on your thigh at every red light. he looks over at you every now and then, biting his lip like you’re the only thing he sees.

once you get there, y’all find a good spot not too close to the water, not too crowded. just right. you both unload the car, spreading out the towels, setting up the umbrella, laying down the snacks and speakers. you’re already pulling out the sunscreen while connie’s trying to act like he doesn’t see it.

“come here,” you say, holding up the bottle.

he squints. “nah, i’m good.”

“connie,” you warn.

he laughs, already backing up. “i don’t need that—”

“boy, yes you do!” you chase him a little before catching his arm. “you’re not about to burn and then blame me.”

“fine,” he huffs, turning around and lifting his arms like you just put him in timeout.

you squeeze some sunscreen into your hand and start rubbing it across his shoulders, over the slope of his back. he pretends to complain, but you catch him smiling to himself.

as you finish up, you glance toward the edge of the beach and nod your chin at the row of little white cabanas tucked behind some dunes.

“we should get one of those later,” you say casually.

connie looks over, then back at you with a sly grin. “yeah… yeah, we should.”

you narrow your eyes at his tone.

“what?” he shrugs, reaching for the cooler. “i’m just agreeing with you.”

you roll your eyes, already knowing what’s going through his head. the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze lingers just a little too long on your thighs when you sit down… yeah. he’s plotting.

but for now, you let him play it cool. the sun’s warm, the music’s good, and you’re just getting started.

you squeeze some sunscreen into your hand, rubbing it gently into your arms and thighs before laying back on the towel. your cover-up slips off and you stretch a little, your body glistening under the sun.

“SHITTTT, YOU LOOK SO GOOD—I NEED THAT,” connie yells out of nowhere like he ain’t sitting right next to you.

you look up from your phone with the driest stare. “damn, why you yelling?”

“i just want people to know i got a beautiful ass girlfriend,” he shrugs, not even sorry. “like, i’m proud. you bad as hell.”

he drops beside you, grinning. “come on, let’s go in the water.”

you groan. “i’m lazy. help me.”

he laughs, already lifting you up like you weigh nothing. “say less.”

before you can say anything, he’s already picking you up with both arms, your legs kicking in the air as he walks you toward the waves.

“connie! do not throw me in there,” you warn, gripping onto his shoulders.

“i won’t,” he says, way too innocently. but the second you’re close to the shoreline, he starts acting like he’s about to launch you into the water.

“CONNIE—” you squeal, heart jumping.

he bursts out laughing at your scream, clearly way too entertained.

“it’s not funny,” you say, smacking his chest as he gently sets you down in the water.

“you were scared,” he grins. “you thought i was gon’ do it.”

you flick a little water at him, wading deeper in as the waves lap at your legs. the ocean’s cold at first, but your body adjusts fast with the sun still warm on your back. you splash around a little, dipping low and coming up with your curls dripping, the water sparkling on your skin.

connie stares for a second too long.

“what?” you ask, raising a brow.

he just shakes his head like he can’t believe you’re real. “you’re fine as fuck, bro.”

you roll your eyes again. “you say that every five minutes.”

“and i’ma keep sayin’ it,” he says, pulling you in by the waist. “’cause you are.”

the two of you just float there for a while, hands intertwined under the water. he keeps sneaking kisses your shoulder, your cheek, your neck until you threaten to dunk him if he doesn’t chill. he pretends to behave after that. pretends.

the water’s cool, the sky’s clear, and for a moment, everything feels soft and perfect. no loud thoughts, no real world, just the two of you and the sound of waves.

after swimming, drying off, and a lil more teasing from connie, you both decide to grab a bite.

you end up at a small restaurant right off the sand — salty breeze in your hair, the scent of seafood and grilled jerk chicken in the air. you eat slow, legs brushing under the table, connie doing the most with his fork and that lazy smirk, like everything you do turns him on.

and he’s staring.

not subtly either.

he’s been looking at you ever since y’all got up from the towel. from the way your swimsuit hugged your waist, to the little jiggle when you walked ahead of him. when you sat down, he damn near groaned. and now he’s still watching you eat like you’re the entrée.

you don’t say anything. just sip your drink and try not to look directly at him.

“why are you looking at me like that,” you mumble under your breath.

“like what?” he grins, tilting his head.

you roll your eyes. “like you ain’t seen me before.”

he shrugs. “you’re just so sexy”

you press your lips together. leave me alone, you think.

but you don’t mean it.

afterwards, bellies full and sun dipping lower, you both find a cabana to chill in. it’s tucked off to the side, half-hidden behind some palm trees not too big, not too small, but just private enough. the only one left, and connie snatches it like he paid for the whole beach.

you lay back on the bed with a soft sigh, letting your food digest. connie plops down next to you, but he’s way too energetic for someone who just ate a plate and a half. he’s shifting, fidgeting, looking around like he’s plotting something.

you ignore him. eyes closed, stomach full, the soft rustle of the waves lulling you into a little nap.

you don’t know how long you’re out for maybe twenty, thirty minutes but when you wake up, connie’s not beside you.

you sit up slow, eyes adjusting. “…connie?”

before you can really panic, he walks back in with two drinks in hand, shirt off, chain swinging. “here, baby. gotchu this frozen mango thing. it’s fire.”

“thank you.” you take it, sipping slow.

but he doesn’t sit down.

instead, you watch him walk to the front of the cabana and pull the curtain shut.

then the next one.

then the last.

you narrow your eyes. “why you doin all that?”

he looks over his shoulder, a wicked little grin on his face.

“baby… just chill.”

you already know what’s on his mind.

and the worst part?

you’re thinking about it too.

he kisses you soft at first slow, lips warm, his hand sliding behind your neck like he’s trying to savor you. like he’s been craving this for days and now that he has you, he’s not letting go.

but the second you kiss him back really kiss him it changes.

he groans low, like the taste of your mouth is too much. kisses you deeper. wetter. til your lipgloss is smeared and your breathing is all outta place. his palm cradles your jaw, thumb pressing gently at your throat as he lays you back against the bed.

his hands roam, tugging at the strings of your bikini. “lemme see all this shit. take it off, baby.”

you blink through the heat fogging up your mind, and he’s already working your top off, dropping it somewhere off the bed, his eyes glued to your chest like he’s hypnotized.

“fuck,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “you so bad.”

he helps you out of the rest, slow and greedy, fingers slipping beneath your bikini bottoms and then he stands, pulling his shorts and boxers off in one go, dick already half-hard and hanging heavy.

you stare.

“you been like this?” you ask, sitting up a little.

he smirks, climbing back onto the bed. “been hard since the beach, ma. you walkin’ around with all that ass out talkin’ bout sunscreen… i was fightin’ for my life.”

you laugh — but it turns to a gasp when he grabs your hips and kisses you again, rougher this time.

“mm,” he hums against your lips. “sit on my face.”

“…what?”

he licks his lips, eyes dark. “you heard me. sit.”

you hesitate just a second and he taps your thigh twice like he’s coaxing you. “don’t get shy now. be a good girl. lemme taste it.”

you crawl up slow, heat already throbbing between your legs. and he just lies back, arms behind his head, mouth slightly open like he’s ready for dinner eyes locked on your pussy like he’s been dreaming about this.

he grips your thighs and pulls you down no warning.

his tongue’s on you in seconds. flat and firm, licking a long stripe from your soaked entrance to your clit. and then again. and again. till your whole body jerks forward with a moan.

“fuck, connie—”

he groans against your pussy, loud and filthy, like he needed this. like he’s sick over it. he eats you like a man starved messy, unrelenting, licking and sucking like he’s trying to fuck you with his mouth alone.

his hands grab handfuls of your ass, spreading you wider, locking you down like you’re not allowed to move. his nose bumps your clit and the mess only gets wetter your slick dripping down his chin, his tongue working so fast and so deep it makes you whimper.

you try to cover your mouth.

but he sees it.

he growls, grabs your wrist, and pulls your hand away. “nah, baby. don’t do that. lemme hear you.”

you moan, thighs trembling as your hips grind against his face. and he loves it. tongue fucking into you, lips sucking your clit switching between both like he knows exactly how to wreck you.

and then you see it.

his dick. hard as fuck against his abs. twitching. leaking.

he’s been like this the whole time.

you reach down, wrap your hand around him, thick and warm and already pulsing. and he groans deep and strained when your lips wrap around the tip.

“fuuuckkk,” he groans, voice hoarse. “you gon’ suck it while i eat this pussy? goddamn. you tryna fuckin’ kill me?”

you hum around him, spit running down his shaft while your tongue swirls over the head. your throat gets sloppy, your hips ride faster, and now it’s just chaos.

your moans are tangled, your bodies are shaking, your orgasms crash like waves. he cums down your throat, moaning against your clit. you squirt on his face, twitching and gasping, trying to crawl away.

“nah, bring that ass here,” he mutters, voice still rough, eyes hooded. “i’m not done.”

“gon’ need you to turn over f’me,” he says, voice low. “wanna see that pretty arch.”

you flip, burying your face into the pillow, legs spreading just enough. he gets behind you, running his hand down your spine, then pressing his palm into the dip of your back.

“good girl,” he murmurs. “hold that.”

he drags his tip through your folds, slow, teasing, thick head bumping your clit. “listen to that shit,” he says, voice thick with lust. “already so fuckin’ messy for me.”

you whimper, hands fisting in the sheets. “please—”

“shhh. i gotchu.”

he slides in — slow at first, stretching you open, inch by inch. your back arches more, a strangled moan caught in your throat.

“that’s it,” he groans, bottoming out. “keep takin’ it. fuckkk, this pussy’s tight.”

his hips start moving, slow, deep strokes, each one sending a ripple through your body. he leans over your back, kisses your shoulder, licks your neck.

“you feel that?” he pants. “my dick hittin’ that spot every time?”

you gasp, nodding fast, already melting under him. “yes—yes, oh my god—”

his pace picks up, hips smacking into your ass, filthy wet sounds filling the air. your legs tremble, your toes curl, and he’s talking you through it the whole time.

“don’t run,” he growls, gripping your hips tighter. “you wanted this, right? come take all this dick, baby. come take it like a good girl.”

you moan, so loud he has to slap a hand over your mouth. “shhh,” he chuckles, “you tryna let the whole beach hear how good i’m fuckin’ you?”

he flips you over, doesn’t pull out. just keeps fucking deep, rough, steady. presses your thighs to your chest and watches his dick slide in and out, glistening with your cream.

“look at this messy fuckin’ pussy,” he mutters. “squeezin’ me so tight. bout to make me lose it.”

your head falls back, body arching.

“fuckkk, connie—i can’t—i’m—”

“yes you can. you can take it. come on, baby, make a mess. lemme see you squirt.”

your body jerks once, then twice and you gush. soaking his stomach, his thighs, the bed beneath you.

“goddamn,” he groans, still stroking through it, hips slapping into the puddle. “fuckin’ squirtin’ all over this dick. yeah… you needed this. needed me.”

he doesn’t stop. not even after you cum again, legs trembling, pussy clenching around him. he slows down, finally strokes deeper, sweeter, presses his forehead to yours.

“look at me,” he whispers. “you good?”

you nod. dazed. boneless.

he kisses your cheek, then pulls out, jerking his cock over your tummy ‘til he cums all over you thick ropes across your stomach, your thighs. he groans, head thrown back.

you both go still. silence, except your breathing.

and then—

you both look at the sheets.

“…ain’t no way,” you mumble, laughing.

“yo…” he breathes, grinning as he grabs a towel. “we ruined this bed.”

he wipes you off gentle, kisses your inner thighs, your lips, your forehead.

then tucks you into his chest, letting you rest in the chaos.

“you so fuckin’ fine,” he mutters.

you hum. “you always say that.”

“cause it’s always true.”

and soon, you’re both asleep tangled limbs, sticky skin, ocean waves crashing in the distance, and the cabana smelling like sex and sunscreen.

[alaiasole]

✷ welcome back to solè’s bar ✷

tonight’s signature: vow to ruin me

→ jean x black!reader | modern au | wedding night special | filthy romance

→ tags: f!reader, oral, unprotected sex, fingering,creampie, backshots, dirty talk ,missionary, praise kink

⋆｡°✩₊˚ ♡ ˚₊✩°｡⋆ ⋆｡°✩₊˚ ♡ ˚₊✩°｡⋆ ⋆｡°✩₊˚ ♡ ˚₊✩°｡⋆

you and jean had just gotten married.

still feels unreal. everything about today was perfect your dress, the venue, the music, the food, the dancing, the way he couldn’t stop looking at you like he already missed you while holding your hand. and now, in the backseat of the black car headed to your hotel, he’s got your hand in his lap, kissing your fingers like he’s still trying to prove to himself this happened. that you’re his wife now.

“you good, baby?” he asks softly, voice low, thumb brushing circles into your palm.

you smile at him. “more than good.”

he lets out this breathy little laugh, head tilting back against the seat. “can’t believe you’re my wife. for real.”

you laugh too. “boy, please. like you weren’t plotting since the first time we met.”

“exactly,” he grins, leaning over to kiss your cheek, then your jaw. “had to marry you after that. had no choice.”

his lips linger for a second. your hand’s still in his, and it stays there as the driver pulls up to the hotel.

jean steps out first, buttoning his suit jacket again before walking around the car. he opens your door and holds his hand out for you like the dramatic little gentleman he is. “come on, mrs. kirstein.”

you roll your eyes but take it. “that’s wild to hear.”

he helps you out carefully, holding the bottom of your dress so it doesn’t drag,he doesn’t even say anything just keeps looking at you like he might cry again.

you both walk into the hotel lobby together. he keeps his hand on your lower back, whispering something about how you look so good, it’s criminal. you’re too caught up in the moment to see the front desk lady flagging him down.

“mr. kirstein?”

jean turns his head. “yeah?”

“hi, sorry to bother you—there’s a small issue with the final bill for the suite. looks like a balance hasn’t been paid yet.”

you blink. “wait, what?”

jean frowns. “that can’t be right. everything was paid for in advance.”

you step in behind him, playing your role. “maybe there was, like, an error or something?”

he looks down at you, already trying to shield you from the stress. “baby, you should go upstairs. you’ve been on your feet all day.”

“are you sure?” you ask, voice soft. “i can wait—”

“nah, go. seriously. i just gotta figure this out real quick, and i’ll be right up. our room should be ready.”

you pause, then nod. “okay. don’t be long.”

“i won’t.” he leans in and kisses your forehead. “go get comfortable, mrs. kirstein.”

you take the keycard from him and start toward the elevator, giving him one last look before stepping inside.

and he doesn’t even know. doesn’t know you planned this. doesn’t know that the ‘unpaid balance’ is a lie you coordinated with hotel staff hours ago, that the suite is already lit up in candles and lined in rose petals, and that you’ve got white lace under this dress, and a little veil in your bag just for him.

you’re grinning by the time the elevator doors close.

the elevator ride up feels longer than it is.

you’re still holding the keycard, pressed between your fingers like your heart’s not already racing in your chest. not out of nerves, not really but out of anticipation. you’d been planning this for weeks. making sure every candle was placed just right, the rose petals scattered like a dream, the scent in the air warm and soft and romantic. lingerie? check. veil? check. music? check. mood? perfect.

when the elevator doors open, there’s a soft gasp one of the hotel attendants is already waiting. “mrs. kirstein?” she smiles.

“yes?” you blink, surprised.

“i was asked to help you up with your dress just so it doesn’t snag or anything on your way to the suite.”

you exhale in relief. “thank you. that would be great.”

she helps you carry the flowing hem of your gown, walking slowly beside you as you head down the hall. your heels click softly against the marble floors, your heart beating a little louder with every step. you glance at the room numbers, then down at the key again. 1711. top floor. luxury suite.

you stop in front of the door, nod at the girl. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” she says with a little wink before walking off.

the second the door clicks open, you step inside and smile.

it’s perfect. everything you imagined and more.

roses spill across the floor in a soft trail toward the bed, candles flicker on every surface soft gold light dancing against the walls. the room smells like fresh petals and something sweet, like vanilla and champagne. the lights are dimmed just enough, soft enough to melt into.

you close the door behind you and let out a breath.

okay.

this is it.

you kick off your heels, setting them neatly by the door, and walk into the bathroom. you’re gentle with your dress, pulling it off slowly, carefully, folding it across the bench. your fingers move to the bag you packed earlier. white lace. delicate. soft. just for tonight.

you slip into the set a lacy white thong with matching garter and sheer stockings that hug your thighs just right. the bra’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever worn, soft cups trimmed in dainty floral lace, your skin glowing beneath it. you add the final touch a short, flirty veil that falls just below your shoulders.

you walk to the mirror.

your lips still look good from earlier, but you touch them up anyway glossy and kissable. a little powder under your eyes. a dab of highlighter on your cheekbones. fingers adjusting your veil just so. you check your hair, smooth your hands down your thighs, flick the lace garters against your skin just to hear the little snap.

“you got this,” you whisper to yourself. “that’s your husband.”

your reflection smiles back at you. smug. glowing.

before walking out, you grab the perfume from the counter spritz it across your neck, your collarbone, the backs of your knees. he loves this scent on you. you swear it drives him crazy.

music hums softly in the background slow, sultry, something like surprise by chlöe plays low enough to set the mood, just loud enough to feel it.

you walk to the bed, taking your time. settle on your knees, back straight, thighs pressed together. you adjust the veil so it falls just right. lace stretched across your skin, nerves settling under your confidence. you look so good. you feel even better.

and now you wait.

the candles flicker.

the music plays.

and your man is on his way.

he signs the final paper with a distracted thank you, barely processing what the woman at the front desk is saying anymore. his mind’s already halfway upstairs. halfway on you.

the second he steps into the elevator, he loosens the top button of his dress shirt and exhales, slow. it’s been a long day a beautiful one but still. he’s ready to unwind. ready to hold you. ready to just be with you.

he swipes the keycard.

the soft click of the hotel suite unlocking is the only sound, but he freezes when he sees it. the hallway lights are dim. the whole suite is quiet. but a trail of rose petals leads toward the bedroom.

“baby?” he calls out gently, voice dropping lower, like he knows something’s waiting for him.

he follows the petals slow, hands in his pockets now, heartbeat suddenly picking up. and when he turns the corner, when he sees you—

his jaw just fucking drops.

you’re sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, knees tucked under you, soft candlelight painting your brown skin in this golden, glowing sheen. and that white lace lingerie with the tiny veil slipping off your shoulder?

he swears he’s never seen anything like it.

his eyes drag over your silhouette slow, reverent and he shakes his head with the softest smile tugging at his lips.

“what’s all this?” he murmurs, stepping closer.

you smile at him, all innocent and glowing. “your surprise.”

he exhales through his nose, walking until he’s right in front of you, towering over your soft, poised figure. his fingers lift your chin gently, tilting your head up so you’re looking into his warm, hungry eyes.

“fuck, baby… what am i gonna do with you,” he mutters, voice dipped in something deeper now something hoarse and reverent.

you smile again, softer this time. and then you move

slow, fluid hands coming to his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. he watches you with parted lips, a deep breath rolling through his chest.

“oh, shit,” he breathes, hips twitching when you tug his pants and boxers down in one go. his cock springs free half hard already and your hand wraps around it without hesitation, stroking him gentle, slow.

his hands fall to his sides. he’s not even touching you. just letting you have him.

“fuck, baby,” he groans again, brows furrowed, hips pushing forward into your hand.

you glance up at him, eyes sparkling with that same innocence that first reeled him in. and then, with no warning at all, your lips part and you kiss the tip of his cock just a soft, teasing press.

he curses under his breath, watching you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

you giggle softly, then take him into your mouth fullyslow, deep, committed. his breath catches. one of his hands shoots out to grab the edge of the dresser behind you. the other finds the back of your head, not pushing, just holding. grounding.

“baby,” he moans, eyes fluttering closed. “you’re really doing this to me right now?”

your tongue glides along the underside of his cock, and then you start moving slow, smooth strokes, sucking him deep like you’ve been waiting all night to do this. you take your time with it, letting your lips stretch, your eyes water, your throat open just enough to make him groan again.

his hand grips your hair tighter.

“fuck… that’s it. that’s it, pretty girl. just like that…”

you hum around him on purpose and the vibration makes his hips jerk. he’s watching you now, panting, cheeks flushed and jaw clenched, his tie hanging loose around his neck like he’s unraveling just from your mouth alone.

you pulled back with a gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. then you licked it again. slapped it on your tongue once, twice eyes still locked on his, like you were daring him to look away.

jean cursed under his breath.

jaw relaxing, breath steady, you let your spit run down the sides of him as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach. your pace messy, a little filthy now. he groaned, deep in his chest, like it was being dragged out of him.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy, mouth full of him, spit slick and glistening around your lips like gloss. you pull off slow, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock as you go, lips trailing open mouthed kisses down to the base. he shudders, one hand gripping the back of your head like he’s trying to steady himself.

“you sure?” you murmur, teasing, licking your way back up to the tip. “’cause i don’t mind finishin’ you off like this…”

his hand comes down slow, firm on the side of your jaw. “baby,” he breathes, voice caught between a moan and a warning, “if you keep going like that, i’m not gonna last.”

you glance up at him, mouth still full, spit dripping from your lips, and let him slip out with a soft pop.

he leans down eyes wild, pupils blown and kisses you. messy, deep, tongue first. his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, guiding you up with him, lips never leaving yours. it’s greedy, breathless, like he’s trying to taste what you just did to him.

“god,” he mutters against your mouth. “fuckin’ mouth on you…”

he kisses you again slower this time then gently guides you back, easing you down into the bed. the veil still frames your hair your thighs part instinctively.

you do. you let your spine melt into the mattress, arms out, legs parted just enough to tease. jean follows the trail of candlelight flickering over your skin, and when he climbs between your legs, he doesn’t start at your pussy no. he starts at your ankle. kisses it. then the inside of your calf. the dip behind your knee. soft, reverent, like worship.

his mouth ghosts up the inside of your thigh. “been thinkin’ about this all night,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your lace. “you in this little fuckin’ outfit. sittin’ pretty in our hotel room. waitin’ for me like this…”

his thumbs slide up your thighs, spreading them wider.

“baby,” you whisper, breath catching.

he kisses the lace once. Then again. Then he pushes it aside with his fingers and groans when he sees how wet you are your folds already glistening, clit peeking out and begging to be touched.

“look at you,” he breathes. “fuck, you’re soaked.”

his fingers find your pussy, thick and slow, rubbing between your folds with purpose. when his thumb presses to your clit, you jolt, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.

“jean—”

“relax,” he says, gaze locked on your face. “i got you.”

two fingers slide into you, slow and deep. your mouth falls open. he moves them carefully at first curling, pumping, pressing just right until your hips start to rock into his hand. he watches the way you fall apart for him, eyes low, lips parted.

“that’s it, baby. let me feel you.”

his pace quickens, fingers moving faster, deeper, knuckles curling just right. your thighs begin to tremble. he brings his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and sucking little marks into the skin while he fucks you on his hand.

you whimper. your back arches. your hands clutch the sheets like you’re about to float right out of your body.

“you gonna cum for me?” he whispers, tongue flicking over your skin.

“y-yeah, baby—fuck—jean, i’m—”

“come on, love. give it to me. let me see how good i make you feel.”

and then it hits. that wave crashes over you, thighs clenching, breath stuttering, voice cracking on a moan that’s soaked in need. he watches it all, watches you come undone beneath him, your slick gushing around his fingers.

he groans when he pulls out of your dripping pussy, fingers still coated in your cum, but it’s the way you’re laid out beneath him that really knocks the wind out his chest.

eyes all glossy. lips parted. body trembling with leftover pleasure. still in your little veil, hair all messy, makeup slightly smeared, thighs twitching with every breath you take.

“look at you,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips—slow, tender, the kind that has your toes curling just from how soft he’s being. “my fuckin’ wife.”

you barely whisper it back, “your wife,” voice all shaky, but he hears you. it’s all he needed.

he leans back on his knees, strokes the tip of his cock through your folds, slow and steady. watches how it glides so easily through your slick, wet and creamy and messy just for him. he lets the tip rub over your clit once… twice… watches your stomach jump with each touch. and then he presses in.

deep.

somewhere in the background, low and slow, “Sex With Me” by Rihanna slips into the speakers thick bass and sultry vocals curling into the room like smoke.

your mouth falls open. no sound at first, just air, just breath, until he bottoms out and stays there, thick cock filling you up so deep you can feel it in your chest.

“oh my god—” you gasp.

he buries his head in the crook of your neck, arms sliding under your waist to keep you close as he starts to move, slow at first. every stroke deep and precise, hips rolling into you like he’s got nowhere else to be.

“fuck, baby…” he pants against your skin. “you feel so fuckin’ good… tight as hell, wrapped all around me… shit.”

your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him, like you’re trying to keep him there forever. he fucks into you steady, dragging the length of his dick out slow before pushing it back in with a wet squelch that makes you moan louder each time.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he says, breath hot against your ear. “my pretty fuckin’ wife. takin’ me so good.”

you claw at his back, fingers curling into his shoulders, hips lifting to meet his strokes. your voice cracks as you whisper, “deeper—baby, please—”

he shifts, pulls back just enough to grip your thighs and push them toward your chest. his pace changes still slow, but now it’s intentional, deeper, filthier, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room.

your head falls back, eyes rolling as he rubs your clit with his thumb, fast little circles that have your body trembling.

“uh uh, don’t run,” he grunts, watching your face twist with pleasure. “you can take it. this your dick now, baby. come on.”

your fingers reach for his arm, nails digging into his skin as you try to hold on.

“i can’t—i’m gonna—”

“yes, the fuck you can,” he breathes, fucking into you harder now, his free hand sliding up to gently wrap around your throat. not tight, just enough to make you look at him.

“eyes on me.”

you do. you look at him.

and he watches you fall apart.

your body seizes under him, cunt gripping his cock so tight it knocks a groan out of his chest. your orgasm hits hard, your back arching, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent scream.

“that’s it,” he growls, fucking you through it, eyes locked on yours the whole time. “cream on this dick, baby. let me feel all of it.”

and you do.

oh, you do.

he doesn’t let up not even after you come. he’s still buried inside you, still stroking you slow, making sure you feel every inch of him even through the overstimulation.

“uh uh,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your cheek, your neck, your jaw. “i’m not done.”

before you can speak, before you can even catch your breath, he’s flipping you over hands on your waist, strong grip guiding you face down into the sheets, ass arched just right.

“there you go,” he hums behind you, voice smooth but low, dark with lust. “get that ass up for me.”

you feel his palm smooth over the curve of your ass, spreading your cheeks open like he owns you. and he does at least right now, with how wet you are, how wrecked you feel, how you’re still clenching around nothing waiting for him to fill you up again.

he drags the thick head of his cock against your soaked pussy, slow and teasing, the pressure of it making you twitch.

“still so wet for me, fuck…” he groans. “this pussy stay creamin’ for me, huh? nasty ass.”

you whimper, trying to push back, but he grips your hips tighter.

“nah, let me take my time with it.”

he eases in slow, thick and deep, stretching you open all over again. your mouth falls open no sound at first, just a hitched breath as your eyes flutter shut.

and then he starts to move.

not fast, but deep slow strokes that have your eyes rolling back and your fingers clawing at the sheets.

“mmmh—fuck, baby…”

“feel that?” he grits out behind you, leaning over to grab a handful of your hair, his other hand gripping your waist. “feel how deep i am?”

you nod, drool slipping from your lips, too far gone to

speak.

and just when the heat couldn’t rise any higher, the soft, breathy moans of “Would You Mind” by Janet Jackson slip into the background slow, sensual, damn near sinful —setting the pace for everything that follows.

“nah,” he says, slapping your ass. “use your words. tell me how good i’m fuckin’ you.”

“s-so good—fuuuck, so deep,” you moan, choking on your words as he picks up the pace just enough to make your thighs shake.

the room is filthy skin slapping, your moans bouncing off the walls, the wet sound of your pussy clinging to him every time he pulls out. he’s soaked in your cream, white rings forming at the base of his dick, and still, he keeps going.

“you hear that?” he pants. “you makin’ all that fuckin’ noise—so fuckin’ nasty, baby. shit.”

he grabs your arms, pulls you back until your spine arches and your back meets his chest, his dick still buried deep in your pussy.

“look at me,” he whispers, hand around your throat again not choking, just holding, making you feel it. “look how you got me, baby. i can’t stop.”

and then he kisses you.

sloppy, nasty, tongue in your mouth, spit on your lips. you moan into it, and when he pulls back, a strand of saliva connects you both. you whimper helpless, ruined and that’s when he slams back into you, stroking you deep and fast now.

you break.

your legs shake, your jaw goes slack, and your vision goes fuzzy as another orgasm rips through you.

“that’s it,” he groans, voice damn near breaking. “fuckin’ come on this dick, baby. that’s mine.”

and you do.

again.

messy.

loud.

clenching around his cock so tight he damn near loses it, too.

and he’s still talkin’ to you through every second.

“fuck, you’re so good for me. so fuckin’ perfect. fuck—i love you. i love you so much, baby…”

his strokes get rougher deeper desperate. his grip tightens around your waist, his breath ragged in your ear.

“f-fuck—baby—i’m gonna—shit, i’m gonna come…”

you whine, still trembling, still milking him from the inside, and that’s all it takes.

he buries himself deep with a broken moan, cock twitching inside you as he spills every last drop. hot and thick. so much of it, you gasp when you feel it.

“fuck,” he groans, voice strained, hips jerking. “fuck, baby… that’s all yours.”

he stays there, locked inside you, his chest rising and falling against your back.

and then—slowly—he pulls out.

a mess.

his cum oozes out of you in thick, creamy strings, sliding down your thighs, pooling on the sheets.

he watches it happen with hooded eyes, licking his lips like he could go again.

“mm-mm,” he mutters, leaning down, spreading your cheeks to watch more of it drip. “nah, baby. keep that in.”

his thumb drags through the mess, pushes it back in.

“this mine. all of it. don’t let a drop go to waste.”

you whimper, weak, fucked out ruined.

and he just grins behind you.

“i love you so much.”he whispers, “i’m obsessed with you.”

he’s gentle with you after.

soft “you okay, baby?”s pressed into your temple, whispered “i got you, i got you”s as he lays you on your back and disappears into the bathroom. you’re still dazed, still fucked out and twitching from what he just did to you. your thighs sticky, your body warm. all you can do is whimper when he returns with a hot towel and kisses for your cheeks.

“you did so good for me,” he murmurs, cleaning you up like you’re made of silk. “so fuckin’ good, baby. i’m obsessed with you.”

he works slow, careful. wiping between your legs, kissing your knees, running his hands down your thighs like he can’t stand being away from your skin. and when he’s done, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing and carries you to the bathroom.

the tub’s already full steamy water, thick bubbles, rose petals floating on top like velvet. it smells like lavender and sandalwood. like sex and something sweet. and you smile.

“you did all this?” you ask, eyes fluttering up to him.

he sets you down on the edge of the tub and leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, soft and slow.

“for you?” he says. “i’d do it every night.”

you step into the water, letting out a breath as it wraps around your body. warm. soothing. your muscles relax instantly, and you sink back against the side of the tub as jean slides in behind you.

his arms come around your waist. he pulls you into him, your back to his chest, your body wrapped in his warmth. his lips graze your shoulder.

“you feel good?” he murmurs.

you hum, nodding. “perfect.”

he kisses your neck, and you can feel him smile against your skin.

then he reaches for the champagne.

he pops the bottle with a low pop, the sound echoing through the bathroom. you giggle. he pours slow, careful not to spill as he hands you a glass. the bubbles fizz up to the rim.

he lifts his own glass, tapping it gently to yours.

“to forever?” you say, voice soft, eyes full.

he looks at you like you hung the stars.

“to forever,” he repeats, and clinks.

you take a sip. let it fizz on your tongue.

he doesn’t let go of you not for a second. one arm wrapped around your waist, the other bringing his glass to his lips as you settle back into his chest. the petals float around you. your skin glows. and his fingers drift up and down your arm like he’s still making love to you with his touch.

“you’re everything to me,” he whispers.

you smile.

“i know,” you whisper back.

[alaiasole]

🍸 welcome back to solè’s bar🍸

tonight’s special;

connie springer, hood of the car, & tongue therapy.

→ plug!connie x black!reader | smut | modern au | tension, stress relief, & getting your soul ate under the stars.

tags: f!reader, plug!connie, blk!reader, modern au, tension, stress relief, oral (f receiving), backshots on the hood, unprotected sex, connie’s a munch, nasty & sweet, lil giggles between filth, you needed that fr.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

you were on your bed tryna fix one of your nails when your phone buzzed connie texted “outside”

you looked at yourself in the mirror real quick, on. did i mention he fine as fuck? like, unnecessarily fine. and yeah, y’all have fucked a couple times. shit was tew good. like damn.

you head outside, and there he is sittin in the car arm hanging out the window, music low, smirk on his face like he already know he fine. when he sees you, he leans over and pops the door open.

“hi,” you say, climbing in.

“wassup. you look pretty,” he says, eyes staring you up and down like you somethin sweet.

“thank you,” you mumble, settling into the seat. “you got my stuff?”

he reaches into the center console and pulls out the little baggie, holding it up with that smug-ass smile. “of course i do. i always got you.”

you grab it quick, eyes lighting up. “oh my god, thank you. you’re actually a lifesaver. i been stressed all day.”

“yeah? what happened?” he asks, pulling off hand back on the wheel, other resting casually on his thigh.

you sigh. “girl stuff. people annoying. everything getting on my nerves lately.”

he glances at you, lips twitchin like he tryna hold back a smile. “that why you texted me all desperate?”

you scoff, grinning. “shut up. i was not desperate.”

“you was,” he teases. “talkin bout ‘can you pleaseeee bring it tonight i’m dying.’ you typed out five e’s.”

you bust out laughing, rolling your eyes. “whatever. you love that shit.”

“i do,” he admits, cocky. “i like when you need me.”

you try not to smile too hard, chewing your lip. “we still goin to the spot?”

“yeah. unless you tryna smoke in the car,” he says, glancin over at you again, a brow raised.

you smirk. “i was, lowkey. but the spot’s better.”

“figured. you be tryna lay back n get cozy,” he says, turning down a street like he know exactly where he’s headed.

“exactly,” you say, chillin into the seat. “why you think i wore this hoodie.”

“and them shorts,” he mutters, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you glance over at him, grinning. “what?”

“nothin,” he says, smirking now. “jus sayin… you knew what you was doin.”

y’all pull up to the spot this quiet little overlook on the edge of a cliff, just far enough out that it feel like the rest of the world don’t exist. the view is crazy… city lights flickering below, sky stretched out dark and wide above y’all. peaceful. still.

he cuts the engine, lets the music fade into the background. both of you climb out and sit on the hood, the metal warm under your thighs. he passes you the blunt, sparking it with one hand, watching the fire glow in your eyes.

you take a slow pull, hold it, exhale like you needed it. your legs brush his. neither of y’all say anything at first just sittin close, staring at the view, the smoke curling up into the air.

“you still ain’t tell me what was stressin you,” he says after a minute. voice low, soft, meant just for you.

you look down at the blunt in your hand, sighin a little. “it’s just… everything feel like too much lately. work, school, people. i feel like everybody want somethin from me. like i can’t even breathe without someone tryna take a piece of me.”

he’s quiet, just listenin, nodding slowly. then he shifts, slides off the hood, and stands in front of you. his hands find your thighs, warm and grounding.

“come here,” he says gently, tugging you forward till you’re standing between his legs, his face level with yours. “you don’t gotta carry all that by yourself. you hear me? i got you. always.”

you blink at him, caught in his gaze. his hands grip your waist now, firm but soft, and your voice comes out small. “okay…”

he doesn’t say anything at first. just looks at you for a second longer, then shifts you by the hips gently but firmly until your back is pressed to his chest. he’s still sitting on the hood, legs spread, and you’re standing right between them, staring out at the view.

his hands settle low on your waist, thumbs brushing over the dip of your back. his voice comes again, soft and low in your ear. “you always tryna carry shit alone.”

you don’t say anything just breathe slow and heavy.

“you don’t gotta be strong all the time,” he murmurs, leaning in till his lips graze your neck. “you know i gotchu, right?”

you nod, and that’s when his mouth touches skin.

first, a kiss. feather-light. then another, deeper, his lips parting slightly, tongue just barely tasting the spot behind your ear. his grip on your waist tightens, and your breath hitches.

“mm,” you murmur, eyelids fluttering.

he kisses lower your shoulder, the back of your neck slow, like he’s savoring you. his voice is damn near a whisper, thick with tension. “you always smell so good, ma…”

his hand slides under your shirt, over your stomach, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. you feel him all of him pressing hard through his sweats.

“look at this view,” he hums in your ear, teeth grazing your jaw. “all that beauty… and i still only got eyes for you.”

you let out the softest giggle flustered, warm, dizzy already.

he kisses up your neck again, hand sliding lower, palming your hip.

and then slow, unhurried he turns you.

your back hits the hood of the car. he watches you sit, the moonlight catching your face, your lips parted, eyes already glassy.

“lay back, mama,” he says, voice thick and low.

you do. your thighs part naturally, breath catching as he runs his fingers down your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“lemme see you.”

he pulls it off slow eyes locked on yours the whole time like undressing you . then his fingers hook into your panties, dragging them down your thighs, kissin the inside of your knee like it’s instinct.

and then he drops to his knees.

right there in the open, under the stars.

he kisses up your thigh, slow as hell, hands spreading your legs wider, like he’s tryna memorize you. his breath fans over your skin.

“you ready for me?” he asks, lips just hovering over your clit, not touching yet.

“yes,” you whisper, voice barely there.

he grins against your skin.

“good.”

and then his mouth is on you.

tongue slow and wet, curling against your clit. he licks you like he’s tryna ruin you sloppy, intentional, filthy. his hands stay gripped tight on your thighs, fingers digging in just a little when you squirm.

his tongue flattens, then flicks. circles. sucks. moans into it like the taste of you got him high.

you arch off the hood, whimpering, hands in his hair thighs trembling.

“connie—fuck—”

he groans deep, like your moans only fuel him, and he goes deeper. tongue dipping inside you, then coming back up to suck your clit into his mouth again, slow and greedy.

you feel it build, hot and fast, your whole body locking up. when you cum, it rips through you breath caught, back arched, pussy pulsing around nothing.

he doesn’t stop.

“that’s right,” he murmurs, still licking slow, teasing now. “lemme taste all that stress leavin yo body.”

your legs twitch. you try to pull back, too sensitive, but he holds you there. tongue soft again, lips pressing a kiss to your swollen clit.

“you done?” he smirks, breathless. “nah, i don’t think so.”

he rises slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but his eyes never leave you. heavy with heat, with want, with claim. you can barely look at him chest heaving, thighs trembling, body pulsing.

he leans in, presses a kiss to your mouth. you taste yourself on his lips, and he doesn’t rush just kisses you slow, deep, like he needs to be closer.

his hands slide to your hips, easing you to turn. he helps you gently, flipping you onto your stomach, ass lifted off the hood of the car.

you hear him behind you the soft rustle of clothes, the deep, quiet breath he lets out as he fists himself behind you.

“look at this fuckin view,” he mutters, voice low and reverent.

you feel the weight of him press against your entrance thick and hot, dragging slow through your folds. he lets it sit there a moment, just teasing, making you wait.

“you want it?” he asks, voice damn near smug.

you nod, breathless. “please…”

“nah, say it. say what you want.”

you bite your lip, face pressed to the cool metal of the hood. “i want you, connie. i want you inside.”

he hums low. “that’s all you had to say, baby.”

and then he pushes in.

slowly. inch by inch. stretching you open, filling you up so deep it feels like your spine lights up. your mouth falls open on a gasp, body going tense as he bottoms out with a deep groan.

“fuck,” he hisses, head dropping as he buries himself to the hilt. “you feel too fuckin good…”

he stills there for a second, just letting the heat of you wrap around him, breathing heavy. his hand spreads over the small of your back, grounding you, holding you there like you might float away.

and then he moves.

the first stroke is slow and deep, dragging out of you with a slick sound before sliding back in with force. you whimper, hands gripping the edge of the hood, legs shaking.

he sets a rhythm smooth, deliberate. not fast, not yet. just deep. each thrust pushing you up the hood slightly, your toes barely keeping grip on the pavement. he leans over you, chest to your back, mouth by your ear.

“you feel that?” he whispers, hips rolling. “feel how good this pussy takin me?”

you nod, eyes fluttering shut, moaning softly.

his hand slips up, finds your throat, gentle but firm. he kisses the side of your face, your cheek, your shoulder. “don’t run, baby. take it. you takin it so good…”

his other hand slides down, sneaking between your legs. his fingers find your clit, rub slow circles in time with his thrusts. it’s too much. it’s perfect.

“connie—fuck—i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he whispers, voice like velvet. “you gon’ give me another one.”

his hips snap harder now, deeper. the wet sound of you meeting him fills the night air, your moans turning breathy, higher-pitched, desperate.

he groans, the tension in his voice thick. “god damn, you tryna make me cum already…”

you clench around him without meaning to, and that pulls a growl from his chest. he pulls out suddenly not all the way, just enough to adjust your hips, grip tightening.

and then he snaps back in.

harder. rougher. his pace changes, no more teasing — just need.

your body rocks with every thrust, skin slapping, nails scraping across the hood. the way he fills you, stretches you, claims you it’s filthy. raw.

he leans back, one hand on your hip, the other pulling your ass back to meet his thrusts. “look at this fuckin pussy, man… suckin me in like you need it.”

your whole body starts to go slack, pleasure burning low in your belly, winding tight. he can feel it.

“you close?” he pants.

you can’t even speak just nod, whimpering, nearly crying from how full you feel.

“then cum for me,” he growls. “cum on this dick.

you shatter.

your back arches, mouth open on a silent scream as you cum so hard your legs nearly give out. he groans, deep and loud, fucking you through it, stroke slowing just a little as he chases his own.

“shit—fuck—fuck—”

he slams in one last time and holds there deep, pulsing, throbbing as he cums inside you, breath ragged.

his hips twitch, then go still.

silence.

just your breath and his, tangled in the thick, heavy heat between your bodies.

you both stay like that for a while him still inside you, chest to your back, hand sliding down to your waist like he’s calming a storm.

then, soft:

“you okay?”

you nod weakly, still trying to catch your breath. “yeah…”

he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, easing out of you slow.

“you need water, a nap, a whole fuckin spa package after that,” he mumbles, pulling his sweats back up, still grinning like he just did something evil.

you roll onto your back on the hood, legs dangling off the edge, hair messy, chest rising and falling.

he watches you — eyes soft, hungry still.

“you said you was stressed,” he shrugs, stepping close again, leaning down to kiss your lips.

“just tryna help.”

he cleans you up gently, takes his time with it, then helps you back into the car.

once y’all settled in the front seat again, both lookin wrecked and high and warm and lazy, he looks over at you with a grin.

“backseat next.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’re crazy.”

he licks his lips slow. “crazy about you.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

[alaiasole]

✷ welcome back to solè’s bar ✷

tonight’s sequel special: caught up & called out

→ eren x black!reader | modern au | friends with benefits | post-smut chaos

→ tags: f!reader, humor, fwb!eren, group roasting, lighthearted mess, reader & eren getting DRAGGED

this is a part 2 to this fic

a/n: someone requested this but i never got their @ i hope you enjoy🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

✶━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✶

you both just accept defeat at this point.

you’re half-dressed, hair a mess,and you’re seriously considering crawling under the couch and never returning.

if embarrassment could kill, y’all would be buried six feet deep under this damn rug.

your friends are standing around like they just walked into a murder scene. connie’s holding a cup of juice like it’s gonna save him from the trauma.

“nah. i’m never sitting on that couch again,” he says, deadpan. “like, ever. thanks a lot.”

sasha gags dramatically, flopping down on the other couch with her hands over her face. “so what, y’all were just gonna let us sit in y’all little cum stains? that was the plan?”

eren tries to speak but all that comes out is a wheeze. you smack his arm like, shut up before you make it worse.

mikasa’s arms are crossed. she looks like a disappointed mother. “how long has this been going on?”

you and eren exchange a look. busted. fully.

you sigh. “…five, six months?”

“SIX MONTHS?” connie yells. “and y’all not even dating??”

“just fuckin?” sasha adds, eyes wide. “ew. y’all are gross.”

eren scratches the back of his neck. “it’s not like that, it’s just—”

“nah, nah,” connie interrupts. “you don’t get to explain. your dick was out. the explanation is already in the air.”

you want the couch to eat you alive. armin hasn’t said a single word this whole time just standing there beet red, like he accidentally clicked on the wrong tab and doesn’t know how to close it.

then mikasa turns to you, squinting. “and you?”

“…what about me?”

“girl, you were moaning like it was your last day on earth.”

sasha snorts so loud she starts choking on her drink.

you cover your face with both hands. “can y’all just go so i can die in peace?”

“nah,” connie says, “you gon’ live and deal with this like the horny lil demon you are.”

“you were gripping his shit like it owed you money,” sasha says, sipping out her straw like she didn’t just say the wildest sentence ever.

jean stares at the couch, then looks at the pizza box in his hands, like he’s questioning life itself.

“man, i just wanted to eat some wings and watch a movie. now i gotta Lysol my soul.”

mikasa sighs and flops onto the armrest. “this is why we can’t have nice things.”

“movie night is officially canceled,” sasha announces. “burn the blankets. i don’t even want to be here anymore.”

“nah, foreal,” jean says, turning to leave, “y’all can keep the pizza. it’s tainted now.”

eren throws his hands up, finally speaking. “y’all are being so dramatic—”

“SHUT UP, EREN,” everyone says in unison.

armin, still red as a tomato, finally whispers, “…i’m gonna call my mom to come get me.”

you groan into your hands. “we get it! you caught us! just let us live!”

“live? you should be ashamed,” connie mutters.

jean walks past you on his way out, mumbling, “six months of secret fucking and y’all not even dating? this generation’s hopeless, man.”

sasha nods solemnly. “hoes before bros. but also before couches, please.”

“i hate y’all,” you mutter.

“no,” mikasa says, “you hate yourself. we’re just mirrors.”

[alaiasole]

✦ welcome back to solè’s bar ✦

tonight’s special: nanami kento, your postpartum body, & the mirror he makes you watch in.

✧ nanami kento x black!reader

✧ smut | husband au | postpartum healing | emotional filth

✧ tags: f!reader, postpartum insecurity, oral (f receiving), mirror sex, backshots, unprotected sex, praise kink, dirty talk, aftercare, emotional intimacy, husband!nanami, soft filth, water & cuddles, gentle reassurance

a/n: i’m officially writing about jjk now <33

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

you gently rock your daughter in your arms, cradling her close to your chest as she settles down, little fists curled against your hoodie. the night is quiet, soft, and slow just the hum of the baby monitor and her sleepy breaths warming your neck. the house is dim, the hallway light spilling golden through the cracked nursery door. your legs ache, your arms are tired, but your heart? full.

motherhood changed you in ways you never expected. taught you patience, softness, a kind of strength that doesn’t always roar. the kind that shows up at 2am with a bottle in one hand and lullabies on your lips. you love being her mom love the way she snuggles deeper when you hum her name, love the little baby curls at the back of her neck, the way she fights sleep like she’s got places to be. she’s your whole world. your tiny best friend. your angel.

you sway slowly in place, pressing a kiss to her temple as her eyelids flutter shut. her breathing evens out. finally. you let out the smallest sigh of relief, brushing your thumb along her cheek before carefully laying her down in the crib. she stirs for a moment, then settles, tiny fingers gripping the edge of her blanket. you smile. turn on the sound machine. it hums softly, rain sounds and white noise swirling around the room like a lullaby.

you stand there for a second, just watching her sleep. just loving her from a few feet away.

then, quietly, you back out the room and ease the door almost-shut behind you just enough to peek in later. you walk down the hall barefoot, the floor cool under your toes, your arms feeling empty without her but your chest still heavy with love. heavy with everything.

being a mom isn’t easy. but god, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever done.

you close the nursery door behind you and exhale, rubbing your eyes. your body’s still adjusting — healing in places you didn’t even know needed healing. your shirt is soft and stretched in the middle, your sweats riding low from how often you’ve hiked them up during feedings, changings, long nights of walking your daughter in sleepy circles until she quiets.

motherhood has changed you. stretched you thin in some places and filled you with a kind of love that doesn’t even fit into words in others.

you love your daughter so deeply it makes your chest hurt. you’d do anything for her.

but right now, what’s on your mind?

your husband.

nanami.

standing in the kitchen. the soft overhead light hits his jaw just right, casting gentle shadows across his cheekbones. his hair’s a little tousled he probably ran his hands through it while doing dishes. his glasses rest low on his nose as he wipes down the counter, quiet and focused.

and damn, he looks good.

like a man. a father. a husband. yours.

his sweatpants hang low on his hips. his forearms flex as he wipes,there’s something about the domesticity of it all that makes your stomach flutter. something about how he takes care of everything. about how his first question is always, “are you okay?”

he hears you behind him and turns.

“she’s asleep?” he asks softly, drying his hands with a dish towel. his eyes sweep over you not judgmental, just watchful. “how are you feeling?”

you nod. “she’s out.”

he gives you a small smile. “and you?”

you pause. then shrug. “i’m okay.”

he doesn’t press. just reaches to gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you walk past him toward the bedroom.

he follows a few seconds later, the two of you moving in quiet sync, like always.

but as you step into the room, you pause.

he’s beautiful. not just in how he looks, but in how he is. always careful. always steady. the kind of man who holds you like he’s afraid to bruise you. who whispers your name like a prayer when you’re asleep.

you just stand there for a second, watching him set his glasses down on the nightstand, taking off his shirt, slow and methodical.

he notices the way you’re staring and turns his head slightly.

“what is it?” he asks, voice gentle. “is something wrong?”

you step toward him.

“no,” you whisper. “nothing’s wrong.”

and then you kiss him.

he kisses you back warm, slow, familiar hands finding your hips, pressing into the soft fabric of your sweats. he holds you like you’re something fragile, something irreplaceable. you deepen the kiss, fingers tracing the line of his stomach, tugging slightly at his waistband

“wait,” he murmurs against your lips, just barely pulling back. his breath is shaky.

his hands cover yours. “baby… wait.”

your heart sinks a little.

“why?” you ask quietly. “what’s wrong?”

he blinks. “wrong? no no, nothing’s wrong.”

you lower your gaze, your voice thinner now. “then… why don’t you want to? it’s been months. and i know i look different, i know i’ve… changed. i just thought maybe maybe you don’t see me that way anymore.”

his expression cracks. like it physically hurts him to hear you say that.

“don’t do that,” he says softly, cupping your cheek. “please don’t say that. don’t ever think that.”

you try to smile, but it falters.

“then what is it?” you whisper. “why don’t you want me?”

he takes a breath. big, steadying. then leans in, pressing your foreheads together.

“because i’ve been afraid,” he says quietly. “you went through so much. your body did something incredible. i’ve watched you care for her. for me. i didn’t want to rush you. i didn’t want to be selfish. i just wanted to make sure… that you were okay.”

your eyes sting a little.

he goes on: “i’ve wanted you every day. i’ve just been scared of hurting you. of pushing when you weren’t ready. i never stopped seeing you the way i always have as the woman i love. the most beautiful thing i’ve ever known.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i’m ready.”

his eyes search yours. “are you sure?”

you nod.

“yes. i want you.”

and you don’t have to say it twice.

this time, when you kiss him, he doesn’t stop you.

his hands don’t hesitate.

he touches you like he’s missed you for lifetimes.

he kisses you like it’s been killing him not to.

slow at first. tender. almost reverent. his hands on either side of your face, his lips warm, tasting, teasing. but it shifts quickly. deepens into something desperate. like he’s been starving and you’re the first bite.

his hands slide down your sides, under your shirt, palms wide and warm, exploring the softness of your skin, the new curves of you. he pulls back just slightly, chest rising with each breath.

“come with me,” he murmurs, voice low, a little rough. “i want to show you something.”

he takes your hand and leads you to the mirror. the lights are low. your body barely dressed reflected in front of you, with his figure standing tall behind you. his hands rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your hips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“look,” he whispers. “look at you.”

his voice gets softer, huskier. like the words are being pulled from someplace deep.

“look at how beautiful your body’s become,” he says, dragging his palms up your stomach, grazing the curve of your breasts. “the way you changed… the way you carried her. and still you’re the sexiest thing i’ve ever fucking seen.”

his mouth finds your neck, teeth scraping gently, and his eyes his eyes stay locked on yours in the mirror.

“do you know how many times i had to jerk off thinking about you?” he breathes, kissing behind your ear. “how many times you walked by, half-asleep, tits bouncing, sweats sliding low on your hips and i’d be so fucking hard i couldn’t think straight?”

his voice drops even lower.

“had to stroke my cock in the shower. in the guest room. in the damn laundry room just to keep myself from waking you up and bending you over the bed.”

you gasp softly, thighs pressing together.

“and now?” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head. “you’re mine.”

he undresses you slow. like he’s unwrapping something fragile, sacred. when you’re bare in front of him, he kisses the slope of your back, then gently nudges you toward the bed.

“on your knees, baby.”

you obey.

the sheets are cool under your palms. you settle in the center of the bed, knees parted, ass up. he kneels behind you and you feel the way his breath catches.

“fuck.”

his hands grip your ass, thumbs spreading you, admiring. and then his mouth is on you.

you cry out hands fisting the sheets as his tongue dips deep, slow, then fast. he groans like he’s devouring something sweet, mouth messy, nose pressed into you, sucking and slurping like he’s not planning to stop.

“taste so good, baby,” he moans. “could eat this pussy forever.”

he pulls back just to spit, then licks it back up, gripping your thighs tighter when they start to shake.

“don’t run,” he mutters. “take it. be a good girl.”

you’re trembling, gasping, moaning his name into the mattress.

and when he finally pulls back, his chin wet, his cock heavy and leaking behind you, you whimper from the loss.

“shh,” he soothes, stroking your ass. “m’not done.”

you hear the clink of his chain as he shifts, and then

he climbs up behind you, one knee between yours, and plants his foot on the bed.

his thigh brackets your side, giving him leverage—and you already know what’s coming.

“look at yourself,” he growls.

he drags the head of his cock through your folds, slow, just to tease. then he slides in deep. all the way to the hilt.

you moan, hands bracing against the sheets.

“fuck, baby so good,” he pants. “this pussy missed me, huh?”

his hips roll forward, the power in his thrusts making your back arch.

he grips your waist tight, pounding into you with that leg still up driving the strokes deeper.

“look at you,” he rasps. “look at how you take this cock. like it’s yours.”

you glance up into the mirror and it’s filthy. your face flushed, jaw slack, eyes wet. nanami behind you, shirtless, sweat beading at his hairline, his body flexing with every thrust.

he leans down, chest on your back, one hand under your stomach to pull you back onto his cock.

“you look so fucking pretty when i fuck you like this,” he growls in your ear. “don’t look away. keep watching.”

his hand slides back down, thumb brushing over your clit.

“you feel that?” he mutters. “feel how wet you are for me? you’re dripping, baby.”

his thrusts pick up, harder now rough, almost punishing but still precise. he knows your body too well. knows what makes you clench, what makes you moan, what makes you shake.

���god, i missed this pussy,” he groans. “you’re mine. all mine. say it.”

“i’m yours,” you cry, almost incoherent.

“again.”

“i’m yours, kento—please—”

he slaps your ass, watching the way it jiggles in the mirror.

“that’s right.”

he slams into you once, twice and your orgasm hits you like a wave. your body locks up, cries spilling from your mouth as you cum around him.

he grunts, cock twitching inside you, pulling out just to pump himself over your back, warm spurts landing across your skin as he groans your name through gritted teeth.

when it’s over, he drops beside you, heart pounding. he pulls you into his lap, pressing kisses into your shoulder, your jaw, your temple.

“you okay?” he murmurs. “did i hurt you?”

you shake your head, breathless, dazed.

“you sure?”

“i’m perfect,” you whisper.

and you are.

because nanami just reminded you exactly who you are.

your body’s still humming thighs shaking, breath uneven, skin tingling with aftershocks when you feel his lips press softly between your shoulder blades.

he’s careful, slow, gentle now. his hands glide over your hips, soothing the warmth he left behind.

“don’t move, baby,” he whispers. “i’ll clean you up.”

you hear the rustle of him leaving the bed. the quiet patter of his bare feet across the floor. the sink running in the bathroom. a soft towel soaking under warm water. he returns within seconds.

he parts your thighs just enough to clean between them, eyes soft, touches featherlight.

“tell me if it’s too much,” he says, like he didn’t just have one leg up on the bed pounding the soul out of you.

you chuckle, dazed and breathless. “i’m okay.”

he helps you roll onto your back, tucks a pillow under your hips, wipes your skin clean with slow, tender strokes. then he grabs your water bottle, unscrews the top, and gently presses it to your lips.

“sip,” he murmurs. “come on, just a little.”

you drink, throat dry, lips sore from kissing him too hard. he sets the bottle on the nightstand, then climbs into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest.

he wraps one arm around your waist and the other under your head, cradling you like you’re something fragile. kisses your temple. Holds you tight.

and then, in that warm, sleepy silence, he speaks.

“don’t ever say that again,” he whispers. “don’t ever think you’re not attractive. not sexy. not wanted.”

you blink, heart aching.

he shifts a little so you’re facing him, and brushes your damp hair out of your face.

“you’re forever going to be attractive in my eyes, okay?” he says softly. “forever and ever.”

your eyes sting. you swallow.

“i mean it,” he says. “you’re the mother of my child. my wife. my best friend. and the sexiest woman i’ve ever seen. ever.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead. then your cheek. then your lips.

“i love you,” he says, voice low and steady.

you smile. “i love you.”

he pulls the blanket over you both, tucks you under his chin, hand still tracing soft circles on your hip.

and with his heartbeat in your ear and his arms wrapped tight around you, you drift off to sleep safe, loved, and completely his.

[alaiasole]

🌈 happy pride, my loves!! 🌈

this month is for us for every lesbian, gay, bisexual (hi, me 👋🏾), trans, queer, questioning, intersex, asexual, nonbinary, agender, genderfluid, genderqueer, and every beautiful identity in between. i see you. i appreciate you. you deserve softness, safety, joy, and the whole entire world. 💗

thank you sooo much for all the love and support — especially as a new writer, every like, reblog, comment, or little message truly makes my day and keeps me writing. like fr… y’all are my muse for real. 💋

if there’s anything y’all wanna see from me ideas, tropes, specific characters, drop a request in the replies or in my inbox! don’t be shy, i be writing like i’m the one living it anyway LMAO

💌 stay soft, stay fruity, & stay tuned.

I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL 🩷

– aläia ♡