˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Babygirl˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In college, you didn’t understand anything about what you learned, especially with the business major you’re forced to take up. Bad on your parents part because you didn’t even know what a mortgage is and how it’s gonna benefit you. You didn’t know or care about things like that, but you passed— only because you convinced the nerdy boy next to you to give you the answers to every test you took and every project you needed to complete. The speeches you had to give in front of the class were all of his words and he stood there smiling because the pretty girl finally gave him the attention he wanted. And you did. You actually found him useful and pretty, he just needed to fix up his looks and that was the deal you proposed to him and he took it with no problem. You even added that he was gonna finally feel and taste how bubble gum tastes if you passed.

So now you were back home and staring up at your father and mother who had the biggest smiles on their face. The next words that fell out of their mouths after congratulating you for even finishing your second year of college were horrifying. “ We’re going down to Napeville, your grandfather has now retired his position as a farm owner and your father wanted to take control of it since he was trained his entire childhood.” Your mother finished her statement and your gum popped on your face as you stared at her with wide eyes.

You stare without blinking as your dad grabbed your suitcases on the side of you bringing them into the house, “ Why?! Can’t you just go down there on your own pops’, gramps only wanted you to go down there right?!…Wait are we moving down the-” your father came back out again to grab your bag you had in the trunk of your car— afterwards stopping in front of you when he retrieved the bag from the car. “ Yes, my little pumpkin, we’re moving down there. Aren’t you glad to go back there? I’ll even teach you all about farming if you want.”, Your father said as he smiled at you. You in fact did not want any of that shit. You only remembered the ugly house and barn your grandparents had you and your parents staying in. Being 8 years old, you remembered the faces of the people down there and let’s just say you aren’t gonna find love down there if they all looked and act the way they did when you were 8. Farming life was boring compared to what you were planning to do with your friends this summer. They were not gonna ruin this for you so you proposed a deal with them, hoping they’ll listen.

“ Hmm, what if I just go down there in the summer and come back up here to go back to school and you, my dear pops’ can buy me an apartment! The smartest idea I’ve ever came up with right?!!”, You say, with your arms wrapped around the neck of your dad hugging him from the side. Your mother wanted so badly to facepalm because that was a stupid idea, but she couldn’t say because you are her daughter and you are very sensitive.

Your father removed your arms off his neck and gave you his stern look, “ Enough, { reader}! You know better than to argue with us and besides you don’t even have a good paying job to afford an apartment months rent, especially for the apartment you are tryna’ get for yourself.” You pucker your lips out while huffing, “ Okay okay, I’ll get another one.” Your father shook his head and went inside the now almost empty house.

You stopped and looked around to see the way your house looked and gasped loudly as your parents continued what they are doing, “ Ma’, where’s our stuff, did you have an yard sale without me knowing, why didn’t you tell me because I wanted to keep that love seat we had and put it in my room.”

Your mother sighed loudly before turning to you, “ {reader}, honey, if we just said that we’re moving, what does that mean to you? What do most people do when they move?” She was already tired of packing up most of her and your equipment while you were off at college doing God knows what. You didn’t really check in with them like you used to do in your first year.

You almost narrowed your eyes at her, but decided not to do it since you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for looking at her like that. Answering whilst twirling the string of chewed up gum around your index finger, “ Um, we move. I don’t know ma’, it’s too much to think about really. Anyways, since I clearly have no choice but to obey you two, I’m gonna hang out with my friends for the last time.”

Your mother rolled her eyes as she put the tape on the last box you all had before you tidy up the move from this house to your farming house, “ be back before 12, you may be grown, but you’re still my child living under my rules.” You nodded your head and bit your tongue to stop you from saying something or rolling your eyes.

You were excited to see your bitches again but before you were off, you took out your phone and texted your friends that you wanted to roller skate like the old times. You put your phone away without their answers to your text and walked to where your mother just walked to, “ Ma’, which box are my baby pink and blue roller skates in? Need them for my girly time today.” Your mother walked to a box and kicked it towards you prior to walking off to finish what she was doing.

You opened the box, thanking the heavens that she didn’t box them up with that ugly tape. “ Aww I missed you babies so much, I bet you kissed your mommy just as much.” Your father wanted to really question if you got this personality from your moms side of the family so he asked, “ She got that shit from your side not mine, baby.”

You paid no mind to what the two of them were whispering about as you grabbed your roller skates in your baby pink manicured hands. Hurrying out the house before you got called back in to pack up something they missed, you walked down your stairs to your car. You honestly should’ve taken the hint that you all were moving when you saw the moving truck on the side of your parents car in the garage way. You smiled as you walked to your baby pink and white G-Wagon, “ I’ll make my last night worth it for sure.” You talked to yourself a lot since you were an only child and found a friend in yourself before you found friends. You looked down at your outfit and smiled, your tits looked yummy and your thighs did too.

The memory was four weeks ago and you were now driving your car in silence while following your mom and dad leads to the Legendary farm house. You were leaving so much behind. Your bed, your friends, college associates, your favorite nerd, now who’s gonna help you pass your classes. You huffed to yourself, still following after your parents to the next town you were going to have to adjust to. You were going to miss the stores you got to shop at, the malls were your favorite and least favorite because it was a hit or miss with the brookefield mall. Being the size you were was not a guarantee that you were going to find something in the mall for you, so when you found that one store that sold cute clothes in your size, you had no choice but to max out with your pops’ black card. You were also glad for the mall and of course the internet because you got to shop for new clothes prior to coming to this small town.

You were going to miss the boys and girls in that city. You were gonna miss Hitch and Boris, your main two toys you like to play with. Both were hot and were everything you needed to get by. The city was full of whores and now you gotta move to the country where they are so holy and thou there. Ewww, you're gonna hate it there.

By the time you all arrived at the house you were blown out of your mind when you looked up at the farm house. It was incomparable to the farmhouse you knew from your childhood. This town was so different from how it used to be, it used to be quiet and old looking now it looks a little loud and modern, you were so stuck because you thought of the farmhouse that looked like a cottage house with a big barn behind it like it used to look, now it looks too luxurious— to your liking. The house had big glass windows with a black wooden roof and a big riva double eyebrow 4-lite steel Iron, glass door to greet you. Honestly, the gate when you first entered gave it away that this was going to be different, but you didn’t even think about it because you’re too busy listening to your favorite playlist right now in the act of sucking on your blue cotton candy sucker.

The gate was long and you bet it was even longer than you actually think, your grandpa was full of surprises. The ride to the house was even longer. Nothing but acres of grass mountains and grasslands plus a few animals standing there greeted you as you drove to the house. You were so glad because your hands hurt from driving all night and the sight of sheep somehow made you brighter than before. Once you parked the car on the pavement of the garage behins the moving truck, you got out and looked at it stomping your red and white gingham platform heels on the ground at the sandy dirt on your tires, “ fucking dirt roads, hate them so much.” Your parents were already hugging your cousin while you were grumbling about your tire and car having dirt on it. You decided to wear red and white today to match the cherry red nails with cherry charms on them. You also wanted to try to fit into the countryside by wearing this, after all, you were now a farmer’s daughter.

Your cousin's smile brightens once she sees you come to her with your arms out, “ Bubbles!” You screamed out as you hugged her and she screamed your nickname right after, and the country accent was heard loud and clear. You figured that she must’ve been lonely as hell here because this place was huge and it looks like she’s the only one here.

“ If you’re looking for grandpa, he’s at his house around the corner from here.”, Your cousin said as she brought you inside the house. It was so neutral and blended inside compared to the outside. You almost wanted to puke from the smell of discoloration this house reeks of. So plain and boring.

“ pops’, are we going to go see him later or something?”, you yelled throughout the house since you were walking up the stairs. You heard an answer but didn’t bother to actually listen because your cousin was pulling you to your room she set for you. It was a room you never would have even step foot into a few weeks ago but now you had no choice, at least the bed was big just like your bed at home. Home. You missed it already.

Your cousin then gave you a cola she got out of the little fridge you guessed she stocked in your room, “ How thoughtful of you, { cousin’s name}. Seems like you didn’t change at all.” Your cousin smiled at your comment before taking your hand to go back down stairs to the movie truck, “ And you did. Not in a bad way, sugs. Just didn’t expect you to be like dis’ gotta say you look so gorgeous with that outfit and hairstyle but that’s not what we wear out chea’. Anyways I’ve called my friends and the people your father and I know over here before y’all arrived. You’re gonna love them. They all offered to help with these heavy ol’ boxes here.”

You furrowed your eyes because exactly how many of them are going to come. You start guessing in your head and thought your brain felt like it was combusting. Too much thinking again, so you just smiled. You started to stare off into space until your cousin snapped her fingers in front of your face, “ Hey hey, we gotta get some of these boxes out of chea’, we’re having tons of fun later, silly so let’s get this started now. It’s about 11 am right now, we all should be able to finish by 9, perfect time too.”

You stared at her like she was the sheep in the backyard before grabbing the lightest box, carrying it to the entrance while she carried two boxes, “ What’s happening at 9?”

Your cousin was about to say something when a group of men and women were walking towards you all. You were so confused on who they were because your family skin didn’t look like any of them, yet they’re here smiling at your cousin like they’re family. As you were standing there in a daze— occasionally sucking on your cherry sucker with glossy strawberry lip gloss wrapped around the sucker and the half of the stick.

You didn’t even notice that they got closer and were all standing before you staring at you in awe while you looked up at the sky, stuck like a robot. You blinked when you heard the whispers and gasp with a puzzled look on your face, “ Oh oh, hi hi, I spaced out and wasn’t paying attention to you all. My name is { your name}, nice to meet you all.” You flashed a smile and Armin almost fell for you right there. They all could tell you were a city girl and the accent proved it. They would also know because they’re all from the city too, not yours though.

Eren eyed you up and down with a toothpick hanging out his mouth. He had to get you under him because there was no way you were taking by the way you were dressing. You had on a red and white gingham top that tied in the front pushing up your boobs even more with your pudgy stomach showing— slightly protruding over your v waist, blue Jean short shorts that almost showed your ass if you bent down. Your face was so gorgeous, chubby cheeks when you smile and pretty lips to top it off, he couldn’t wait to know more about you. You were the perfect girl they all were looking for, the excitement and for some, the rush— just wait until the older men and women of the group caught sight of you. Right now it was just him, Armin, Jean, Reiner, Mikasa, Annie, Floch, Pieck, Colt , Connie, Sasha, Porco, Historia, and Ymir .

They all introduced themselves to you and your legs were almost shaking from their voices, especially the women. Eyeing each of them as they were now headed to the truck. You saw things you liked about them, for now. Eren has arm tattoos that made him even more attractive and long hair that you wanted to run your fingers through, Armin looks like the nerd you had back home just more handsome with his lil cowboy boots on, Mikasa had a red scarf wrapped around her neck with overalls on. She looked so cute. Annie had on pants that showed off her thighs really well and eyes that sealed you in, Sasha was obviously a foodie because she’s been smacking on another bag of fruit snacks since they’ve walked up. She was a beauty. A real one.

Ymir and Historia were attached each other with matching colors on, which made them look adorable. One had on jeans and a shirt with combat boots while the other one had her hair down in a middle part with a cute overall dress and tank top under it. Their boots even matched. Yeah they were indeed a couple, but you still had thoughts.

Flock’s hair was a little disturbing but his eyes were beautiful; he has potential. Now Reiner was big and beefy with a cowboy hat planted on top of his head and you were getting more attracted to him when he turned around to go inside the house— his chest was the first thing you saw. May those two buttons never come back together with their little holes because whew does he look so good! Jean was someone you never thought you would keep your eyes on consistently. You liked that he was taller than everyone here and he carried himself like he’s a leader, you love a man who owns the power of authority. You don’t know why, you just do.

Porco was good looking as well and you could tell he was hard to everyone else but gentle to people he liked. A beautiful boy indeed. Colt was shy but talkative to his peers he’s been around, he was a cutie. Now pieck was someone you wanted first, she’s so pretty and mesmerizing. So beautiful that you didn’t even realize that she was in front of you bending down to pick up the box you set down in front of you. You watched her get up and throw a little smile your way, “ You can’t be spacing out like this a lot, pretty girl. Don’t want you to get hurt in the future. So, can you help me carry this last box inside, it’s in the truck.” You laughed before walking ahead of her to the truck whilst she watched your ass jiggle as you walked in front of her. You were definitely gonna be the new talk around town now.

Indeed you were by 9 pm, you were done with everything— unpacking, showing you around your new home led by your cousin as the rest stayed just to talk more with you. Afterwards , they all asked to hang out with you at the bar a few minutes away from where you stay and so you did go. Greatest mistake on your part because from there on out, you were the talk of the town.

✧˖° Eren Yeager + Zeke Yeager, Yelena with grisha lurking + in Eren’s living room

The first time you met Zeke and Yelena was at Pipsy’s Bar— the one you went to when you first moved here. You didn’t really talk with either of them because you stayed close to your cousin and Eren’s crew. However, just because you didn’t talk with them doesn’t mean you weren’t the topic of the conversation they had at their own table.

Just as Zeke asked Yelena to look into who you were, his widened at you getting body shots on the pool table by his little brother. The way your body shook underneath Eren’s as he licked down your boobs to your stomach made his dick hard and yelena wet. They both wanted you and had to get a chance to talk to you one way or another

Today was their lucky day, especially Yelena’s because she was supposed to be somewhere else today, but Zeke asked to hang out at his house. They were on the couch and their hormones heightened as you walked through the door of their farmhouse with your baby-pink polka dot strapless tube top with a white shirt skirt on. Your heels compliment your outfit and legs so well. Yeah, today was gonna be a good day today

Friday afternoon was something you wanted for a long time. Your mini skirt was bunched up your stomach, panties long gone. With the twist of your dark nipples in between Eren’s fingers, he moved inside of your pussy with desperation of your hot and slippery pussy. He was so breathy underneath you. His chest glistened as he pant out your name in a hush tone . You on the other hand was too busy trying to please Zeke with your mouth around his coke can thick tip. Zeke groaned when you locked your jaw around his pink tip, “ Stop - uh- stop fucking looking at me with those doll like eyes, Angel. Makes me wanna’ take you away from everyone and grow my own farm filled with as many animals as you want and during that time our babies will walk around with their shoes off exploring our farm.”

Eren grunted out as you clenched around his heavy cock, “ Fuck no! She’s mine, Zeke. Get your own slut. Yelena’s, umph shit! She’s right there.” Eren leaned forward to take your nipples into his mouth, needing to shut his own ass up before he ruined this moment by arguing with his pinhead ass brother. Yelena was too busy fingering herself to her tongue exploring your ass cheeks— all the way down to your convulsing asshole. It looked proper and good to not put her tongue inside. In the process of eating your ass, her large hands were spreading you open, so Eren’s big balls and her tongue can now move freely.

Zeke put his hands on your chubby cheek with a low smirk on his face, his glasses long gone off his face letting you see what exactly his eyes are saying when they look at you. Your mouth was getting tired of hollowing around Zeke’s tip and at the same time your body shook against Eren’s body and Yelena’s mouth. You were about to lift your mouth off of the older brother’s cock to moan, but your moans were soon dancing along Zeke’s thick dick. His tip hit the back of your throat, making diamond tears fill up your eyes, they eventually traveled down your eyes causing your mascara to drip down your face. Zeke cooed at you with a little grunt and hum— moving inside of you with a sharp snap of his hips, “ Ah Yes, the face of a whore. The face I love seeing on many. Ughh! So fucking pretty taking all three of us at the same time.”

Eren hissed when you squeezed around his dick causing him to almost knock his knees together out of pleasure. He reached to grab your plushy love handles, holding them in his rough hand, “ Fuck, baby! Fuck me back like you’re doing.” And then he massages your love handles in between his long fingers that had cold rings on them. “ Thought I didn’t feel the little roll of your hips and thick thighs clamping around my hips. Think again. Now give me this pussy I’ve longed for. Fuck~”, Eren said as his rings cooled down your sweaty and hot love handles.

Their dirty talking was getting to you so bad. Yelena was now standing up after detaching her lips from your puckering hole with just a long string of saliva— she was behind you with a finger probing your ass and sloppy kisses on your back, “ Gonna’ let me use this ass of your sweetheart… nah, I think I might just open you up for the others, my debt to them.” You couldn’t even focus on her sultry voice uttering those foreshadow ass words because your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, ears popping and body shaking from their overstimulation on all three of your holes. Zeke groaned and came into your mouth at the same time as Eren cumming inside the condom— breaking it in the process. Some of his cum leaked into your pussy and you couldn’t do anything but squirm on him and Grind on Yelena’s finger. You swallowed Zeke’s nut with a few coughs prior to wiping off your mouth and chin.

Eren was still snapping his hips into you slowly just when his pretty emerald, green eyes fell upon you— he was truly enticed by you. Meanwhile, your head was thrown back on Yelena’s chest allowing you to moan out loud— nothing but pleasure coming out your mouth. “ Ahhh~ please, please. It feels so good, rennie, Zekey, lena’. Feels s’good. Mmm .” Your voice was so loud after popping Zeke’s semi-limp dick out of your mouth that Grisha, who stood on the second floor banister staring intensely at the three of you with lust filled eyes, heard everything from the fucking start. He wanted you, now. You were exquisite in his eyes, far too exquisite to make him of all people interested, dangerous even. He so wanted to jerk off, but he’ll just replay the ring camera set up in his living room over, maybe he and Carla could have alone time with you, she’s been asking for a threesome for a while. His sons were so dumb to not even know he was home or maybe they didn’t care. Grisha walked off humming to himself, he’ll let his fellow friends and wife know about you.

✧˖° Armin, Jean, and Connie + back of Jean’s pickup truck

Word got around the small town faster than the plague. Whispers were heard here and there and you had no clue it was all about sweet little you. You were too busy sucking on the pink lollipop that was in your mouth while watching the sheep’s make noise and walk around your big spacious backyard, the only thing that’s separating you from them is the wooden field gate. You took in the fresh air while smiling to yourself. This was your ‘you’ time. Nothing could interrupt this.

Except for a laugh Connie bucked out— walking into the backyard as your parents were yelling out that they’re leaving to visit your grandpa, whom you visited last week with sore legs, thanks to those three. How humiliating they left you. Your view of the green grassland was invaded by Jean Kirtstein with his hands on his hips.

Armin walked to your little lake in the yard petting and talking to the animals having their daily snack on the grass. As for Connie he was too busy admiring your look, your fashion sense screamed Bimbo and he adored it. He always snuck glances at you whenever you weren’t looking or he was goofing off with his friends. He was interested in you, that’s why he wanted to come but Jean and Armin decide to come as well fucking up his plan.

He was admiring your pink Diesel T- Angie shirt that showed off the print of your boobs perfectly to the tight jeans you wore and down to your pink cowgirl boots. Up until Jean grabbed your hand and led you to his big pickup truck, driving off with Connie and Connie on the side of you. They wanted to take you on the ride, away from your house to have their alone time with you.

Indeed they’re plan was a success because now you were in the back of Jean’s pick up truck getting plowed into from the behind by Connie’s cock— around 7.5 inches and thick. Jean took your mouth as he laid down in front of you whilst Armin took pictures of this interaction with your used sucker in his mouth. He was glad that he came with them after being on his farm catering to his father’s chicken coup. He needed a break and you were the perfect person to help him relax. He recorded the way your lips sucked in Jean’s lengthy cock in your mouth with a shuddered breath as he watched. You were fucking Insatiable, almost everyone in the small town thought so.

“ Fucking hell, She’s sucking me like it’s her last taste of ramen noddles, shit~.”, Jean rasped out as he moved your hair out of his vision from seeing you. Connie has your pink heart-shaped Moschino glasses on his eyes as he grabs your ass cheeks in his hands as he hits you from the back. Connie reached to Armin handing him your shoes that was on its way coming off from getting fuck on the truck’s tailgate, “ Here, seems like the slut of the hour just can’t keep up with us after all.”, He snickered before slapping your ass, “ her shoe came off. Now watch and see how she reacts when I do this. Jean keep fucking her face like that, sounds so slutty. Make sure she can’t breathe.”

Your cunt squeezed around Connie— a reaction to his dirty words. You popped Jean’s dick out your wet mouth and looked back at Connie with low fucked-out eyes, “ Please, mmph, keep fucking me like this, I want Armin too. Please Armin, wanna see your cock, wan’ it in my ass because of how pretty it is.” Connie folded right then and there. Yeah he was gonna get you to breed you for that shit. Armin sucked in a breath as he set his phone up on the inside of the truck before looking out to the opening of the dirt road both ways.

And so they did what you asked with a few taunts from Connie and persuasion from Jean for Armin to join without looking out for anybody— I mean after all this is a dead end. You were now all fully on the truck fucking like rabid bunnies. Armin whimpers we’re so pretty, you were kinda glad that Jean is fucking your mouth without any room left to breathe because you were going to cum to the sight of Connie’s pretty red face below you. You felt so full and they felt so good.

Jean yanked your hair to his dick holding you there with a loud moan erupting from his throat, “ My sweet sweet girl, fu-uhhh~” you tried to push your head off his dick, but he patted your head and whispered, “ a little bit longer bunny.” Jean’s cum leaked out of your mouth and mixed with your spit that was lathering his dick caused Armin to snap. Armin came inside of your ass with a loud cry, “ So perfect for me, Honey. So damn perfect.” At the moment of clenching around his cock with your tight hole. Anal was not easy but Armin made it easy for you by prepping you with his spit, lube out of Jean’s truck, and his fingers. He was the perfect person to break your anal virginity.

Connie came into his condom with a loud groan and chants of your name. Armin laughed at the shakes and final thrusts he did, “ Looks like you couldn’t handle her, Connie.” Connie rolled his eyes with a hard lip bite in the process of both of them starting to fuck slowly into you again to let you catch your second orgasm, you didn’t even know you had the first one. Jean pulled out your mouth leaning to hold your cheeks squeezing them together to make more mess of your big cheeks squeezed— covered with spit, cum, and sweat, “ You’ve done so well, my pretty, chubby bunny. Cum for daddy, bunny. Cum for all of us.” You snapped when he mentioned the one word that always got you off.

Your eyes couldn’t see that it was dark outside because your vision was white as you came in Connie’s dick causing him to jump and whine from the tightening around his cock, “ Fucking vixen you are.” They all laughed while you came back to reality, now seeing that it’s dark as hell outside and the only source of light was the flashlight Connie reached to turn on during the time he was digging inside of you. This was the best decision you parents could’ve made because since that move you’ve been getting pleasure. You may not even go back to the city college and just find one down here, who knows.

✧˖° Onyankopon + your kitchen

Onyankopon caught your eyes as soon as he stepped into your pupil's sight. He was so fine and you craved him. Reminds you of your ex from the way he smiled at you. He was a horse trainer and you were gonna get him to train you to ride horses. You don’t even necessarily want to learn, you just want him to speak a lot because his voice was so deep and sexy. And so you asked your dad can you ask him to train you as he was pulling the crops with his ugly yellow gloves.

You already knew the answer because you always got what you wanted from him and your mother. So, you decided to pick out an outfit and do your hair. The outfit was a off shoulder shirt with pink ribbons on the arms and top of it with pink shorts and black and pink cowgirl boots. Your hair was in your hairstyle but in a ponytail with a big pink ribbon to hold it together.

And so onyankopon taught you about how to be calm around horses to not piss them off. Oysnkopon was trying so hard not to look at your ass and body jiggle as you rode the horse listening to every word he says while making purposeful mistakes.

Afterwards you asked the famous question, “ Why are you called a cowboy then, if you ride horses, shouldn’t you be called a horse boy or something? I’m confused”. Onyankopon stood there contemplating on how he should answer this because it was a good and stupid question.

He never answered your stupid question, just showed you why you can only call him an horse boy as he now had your baby pink and yellow panties pushed to the side whilst fucking you into your kitchen island. His long, thick fingers pressed into your big thighs; holding them up and apart, “ Such a pretty pussy you got, such a shame you kept this to yourself all the times I came to this house since y’all - augh!- moved in.” You were a whimpering mess because of how big and deep— kissing your cervix a few times causing you to wince in pain and pleasure. He had you speechless and you hated it because you were always ready to reply to anyone if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

You and onyankopon watched out for your dad, who was far away from your house— at the garden your grandfather started. Your mom was at her new job she got, so it was just you in the house. Onyankopon yanked your ponytail back as he paused his movements, “ Don’t space out on me, now. Can’t and won’t have that. Need all ya’ attention, baby doll. Look me in the eyes as I took this fat pussy of yours, ya hear me?” You nodded, feeling your ponytail loosen from his grip. You wanted to throw your head back, but he told you to keep your eyes on his, even through your blurry vision. “ Please—” you choked out due to the increase of his pace as he looked down at your greedy kissy taking in his cock like it was eating his cock up.

His deep voice grunted in echo all over the kitchen, “ Please what? Baby doll. Gotta say it, not gonna understand you if you aren’t speaking right.” Onyankopon slowly dragged his dick in and out of your pussy— you felt like you were gonna break into sobs. “Full. Sentences. Ahhh shit! Pretty girl” he snapped his hips into yours punctuating every word he said— you never got dick with this much teasing.

You looked down to follow the movements of his cock moving in and out of your tight gummy walls with a vicious lip bite, whimpers following. You reached down to play with your clit in clockwise format, lifting your head to make eye contact with him, “ Please fuck me hard, Daddy. Fuck me like I’m yours. I can’t— please~” onyankopon smiled as he lifted his cowboy hat off the counter placing it on your head, “ As you wish, doll.” Oyankopon fucked you as he pressed his body against yours feeling the warmth of your body against his, your skin was so soft against his but your nails against his naked back was so harsh but felt good, somehow.

You were sure that one of your press-on nails popped off from how hard you were gripping onto his back as he quickened his pace. “ Fuck I know you feel me right ere’, right here. Your cute lil tummy is so damn cute just like your fucking cheeks, wanna’ bite em’.” He touched your fupa and kissed you in your mouth— swapping spit and flipping each other's tongues as he held your body against his. He trailed his kisses all over your face as he fucked into your sweet little pussy.

“ Ahh, Ony, I think m’ cummin’ mmm cummin’.” You kept saying his name in whimpers and that drove him to fuck you even hard. He didn’t stop even if you came around his dick creating a white ring around his dick. “ Oh God.”, you yelled as you climaxed against him and he came inside of you. He bit your cheek with a deep and long groan when he came into your warm pussy making her even more warm with his hot cum flowing inside. Fuck, he didn’t wear a condom! He didn’t care but you did. Onyankopon chuckled to himself inside his head because he was the first person who got to cum inside of you. Instead of his neighbors, it was him. He feels honored.

✧˖° Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, Ymir, and Historia + your room

Your dad wanted to introduce you to picking strawberries and washing them off from the expanding strawberry field behind your house next to the garden. He just didn’t have time to teach you because teaching you means that he’ll have to take all day teaching you how to even clean off strawberries, plus he knew you hated getting dirt or anything underneath your nails. So when Erwin Smith, the man he always spoke with before he even moved here, suggested the girls teach you all about strawberries since it’s three of their jobs to do on his farm.

When they did teach you, Ymir wasn’t letting up on commenting how stupid you are when you asked if we’re going to eat them off the plants or give them to the animals, historia told her to back off you and giggled when your confused pout displayed on your face. Mikasa’s was closed off but very fond of how you looked in that short little skirt you wore. She thought you knew what you were doing wearing something like this to pick dirty strawberries off the plant stems.

Sasha was the fun one and the most welcoming to you teaching you after Historia because this was her job, she even encouraged you to take a bite out of a dirty strawberry as a joke and you were happily about to do so because you always ate the strawberries in the container, only cleaning it off with water. That’s until Annie grabbed your wrist. Now, Annie was a scary one, but you knew underneath that scary aura she possessed— was a woman who needed comfort. And you were happy to give it to her, a sleepover is the best comfort for any girl.

You never experienced a sleepover like the one you were indulging in right now, maybe with Hitch but that was planned. Getting mocked while your ass collides with Historia’s small heart-shaped ass on the 10 inch long double sided tan dildo Ymir brought in her night bag was something that was not planned. You wondered how she even got her hands on this. “ oh, look at the fucking size difference, my my my you two are the most perfect sluts to try this thing on.” Ymir stood in front of a panting, red faced Historia as she taunted her with a small smirk on her face. Annie stood in front of you with sharp blue eyes looking down at your pretty face, “ You look so pretty like this, it’s unbelievable how fast you succumb to the few words that one over there and I.” She pointed at Mikasa, who was rubbing her clit with her pretty fingers. “ said in your ear. Such a shameful slut letting us talk you into this just by pointing out how your fat pussy showed through them lace Polka dot panties of yours.”

Annie ended her statement by holding the now ripped panties in her hands, twirling them prior to bending down and engulfing your shivering lips onto her mouth. The kiss was so tasty and sloppy, fuck, you wanted more. Why didn’t she give you more? You stopped moving to deepen the kiss between you and Annie just for Historia to bounce herself against you— your moans falling perfectly into Annie’s mouth as you swapped tongues. You heard little squeals from beside you and behind you. Afterwards you felt a body slide under you and Historia— breaking the kiss to stare down at who’s underneath you, you instantly smiled because Ymir’s cunt was on full display for you as she flicked her tongue on Historia’s count with no mercy.

Moaning at the feeling of a finger entering inside you soon matching pace with the dildo moving back and forth into you and Historia. Sasha giggled in your ear as her white bra appeared on the side of you, “ So wet, can’t wait to taste you on my lips when you sit that pretty ass on my face, I’m craving something to drink right now… something sweet like juice and candy mixed together. You’re the right person for that right, { reader}?” You couldn’t focus because of the overstimulation of your pussy and the stares you got from Annie and Mikasa, who now stands in front of you beside Annie. They watched your eyes peer up at them before Mikasa landed a perfect slap on your face at the same time as Annie landing two in both of your hanging tits.

Mikasa grabbed your jaw and bent down to hold eye contact with you, “ Answer her! Don’t leave any of us waiting for an answer again.” Her voice was so smooth and made your entire body shake or was it the fluffy carpet you all were standing or kneeling on, “ Yesss— yes please taste me after this. I need all of you, Ohh~” your wetness was colliding with Historia’s and she couldn’t take it. Her moans were so pretty to everyone but yours was sexy.

Annie slipped on one of your 8 inch strap-on’s, rubbing it on your mouth, “ Open up for me. Want to see how much of me you could take. Wan’ stuff you full of my cock. Naughtily sluts like you deserve this face fuck I’m going to give you.” Mikasa let out a little chuckle at her words before grabbing Sasha’s hand to lay with her on your bed. You heard the sound of two people aggressively kissing and stared at the two of them making out: Mikasa with Sasha between her legs. Not long after, Mikasa trailed kisses down Sasha’s jawline as she locked eyes with you, “ Fuck her good, Annie or I’ll do it myself. Don’t let her waste a drop of spit or gag, she’s taken bigger cocks than that, so she should know how to do it. I’m sure of it.”

Historia moaned out yours and Ymir’s name, luckily Ymir covered her mouth, “ Ahh, m’cummin’— cummin’ so my-Ahh.” Her moans were muffled by her hand and that made you want to bounce your ass faster to overstimulate her. You wanted to chase you own orgasm and Annie saw that, so she grabbed your head and fucked into it like it was a pocket pussy men use. The electricity she felt from getting head from you in your didldo was on another level. “ Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what I’m doing Mikasa.” She stared Mikasa down in advance to peering down at you, taking all of her cock between your glossy two-tone lips. “Holy fuck, she sounds so fucking pretty, taking this cock like the whore she is. Such a shame, you’re a whore for everyone who shows little interest in you, how pitiful.” Her words had some truth to it, therefore you wanted to shut her up by reaching past the straps of the strap-on to her pussy— sticking two fingers inside of her making her let out a shuddering moan.

You were all feeling pleasure because you didn’t even notice that Ymir had a thick pink string from an egg vibrator hanging out her pussy but the others did. Every last one of you were on cloud nine, especially Sasha and Mikasa now scissoring on your bed as you played with Annie pussy. Her face fucking was harsh but it made you squirt against Ymir’s stomach that spurred Ymir to cum from the pressure of water on her lower belly. Nothing but sultry and slutty moans were heard in your room. You were surprised that your parents didn’t come knocking from the little squeals and screams you all produced.

✧˖° Erwin Smith, Nile Dok, and Mike( Miche) Zacharias + Miche’s bar

After a week from the previous sexual encounters, you decided to take a ride to the famous bar that was about 20 minutes away from here. You needed to fill the wind blowing in between your boobs and upon your legs. Feel the wind on your face as you chew on 3 pieces of bubblegum. It was almost getting dark when you arrived at the bar, you thought it would've been packed with people.

Only three men were in there and you were about to walk back out when Miche grabbed your hand, stopping you from going. His voice did wonders to your pussy. Being a fucking nympho is a fucking curse because you folded as soon as you heard his deep voice. He smirked at you as he breathed in deeply, nodding his head like it was a signal to the other two older men sitting down.

Once he got you to sit down and have a drink with them. They’ll introduce themselves as the leaders of the town, you honestly didn’t care for what they had to say after that because the word authority and older was dancing inside of your head as you stared at them with big pretty eyes circling in on each one of them. You were sizing them up. Sizing them up to fuck them.

Afterwards, Erwin would probably be the one who trailed you home to make sure you got home, explaining how he was just “ looking out for a civilian and his fellow friend daughter”

You are so glad you decided to stay and size them up because you were bouncing on Miche’s big dick in the hood next to the dirty window— when you first saw it, you gasped as you stared at it. It was so pretty, curved to the right with two thick veins running down it and a pink, thick tip. He also had a cigarette and cologne musk to him, your favorite on old men like him. Your arms hugged his back as he lifted you up and down his dick using his big hands whilst talking with Erwin and Nile. He multitasked and he was great at it because he still hit the right places deep inside of your wet, starving pussy, “ So this is the girl, everyone’s been speaking about? Gotta say she’s exactly my, Mmgh!, type.” They were speaking about you like you weren’t even there getting your pussy destroyed by Miche and that turned you on even more.

Erwin chuckled as he dabbed his cigarette on the ashtray just to bring it to his dried glossy lips, inhaling and exhaling it, “ ‘Isn’t she just so pretty?’ That was Armin’s words as he showed the video of her sucking Jean’s cock to me when I asked what they all were discussing. Who would’ve known that she would be the same girl in the video. Luck is on our side Mike and Nile because she is indeed a beauty.” The reason he had dried up lip gloss on his lips was because of your ‘Cherry Bomb’ lip gloss you wore when you made out with him and his friends moments before Miche h placed you into his lap to fuck you.

Your moans and screams were muffled into Miche’s neck due to the increased movements of his hips snapping up as his nails broke more of the ass part on your white bow stockings, ultimately revealing your pretty panties that had a small bow on the back— pulled to the side. Nile tried so desperately not to look since his wife was back home with his kids. His wife cheated on him but he still stayed. Yeah that wife. He had to stay loyal but he couldn’t when your big ass recoiled when miche hit deep inside of you. “ Fuck, she’s something, alright.” Nile didn’t wanna admit it, but he wanted to watch you break underneath him.

And he did when he fucked you agaisnt the table in front of them. His dick was a monster right next to Miche’s— tan with a dark pink tip, hairy because you could feel some of the hairs against your ass as he pushed into your pussy, and long with a little girth to him. You couldn’t take him after getting your pussy beat by Miche. Now, your neck was held in his strong hands while he pushed into your soaking pussy. Nails gripping the table in front of you, “ Kahhh, I can’t.. I can’t take it, please slow down.” You didn’t want him to slow down at all because this was the third best fuck you’ve had. Nile let out a deep, long groan, fucking you even faster, “ Look at her tremble under me, Erwin. Can you say she’ll do the same for you? I don’t thin— fuck!~ stop squeezing me so damn hard, baby girl.”

Erwin lifted the corner of his lips as he watched your tits flop inside your bra, he couldn’t wait to have you, “ Don’t speak too soon, Nile. Marie was trembling underneath m-” his tone was doing something to your soul and you were about to collapse under Nile’s right arm that was around your tummy. Nile didn’t like what he said and took it out on your poor bruised pussy and you loved it especially when your head was pinned onto the table and Erwin was in your line of sight— brushing the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. Nile snarled as he spoke to Erwin, “ Fuck you, Erwin. Fuck, she’s gonna make me, uhhhh~.” He was so vocal as he came inside of you, his cum mixing with Miche’s cum. Miche was so tired that he didn’t even bother to focus on their bickering moment, his eyes were glued to your body. He was fascinated by you. Everyone was. The moment you stepped inside his bar was the moment he knew you were gonna be screaming and cumming on his cock after the little talk you had.

When it was Erwin’s turn in between your legs, he fucked you with your face turned to Miche and Nile who was now panting like a dog outside without any water on a hot summer day. You were cockwarming him and spilling your cum and the other two men cum all over his cock, “ Don’t move now, Darling. Older men are talking, down here we show respect to our elders.” His eyes were on yours as he held two fingers under your chin tilting it up for you to hold eye contact with him, he soon took his focus off you to return it to the men across and on the side of you. You felt humiliation all over and that only turned you on even more, especially when he took a sip of his drink with a cooling “ aah” following, “ They taught that to us in the city, so why wouldn’t they teach that to her generation?”

They answered him and participated in your degradation and when you would try to say something or move, Erwin would perform powerful thrusts, immediately you’ll moan or cry out of pain and pleasure because after all he was the biggest one out of all of them— he was uncut with a wide girth to his already long dick, his smell was alluring to you because he smelled so natural with a twinge of Booze and cigarettes. You heard two names before your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, yet you couldn’t make out the names clearly. It’s not like you know them or will be able to meet them. Right?

✧˖° Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe + barn house

The moment you met Hange was when she was milking the cows for your dad as a deal with your mom. You didn’t know how they met but you would assume your mom and dad knew every last person here because they were already planning to move down here before they told you, which upset you to the max. Truth be told, you should’ve figured it out earlier but your mind was filled with sex, fun, and zero responsibilities.

So when you finally decide to go out three days later after your father fussed at you for being out so late, you went to your father’s barn yard that sat on the side of a little river with different fishes inside them. You sat on the hay petting the baby goat in your arms. Hange came in with a bucket of milk, stopping when they saw you with your cute baby yellow and pink dress on, they raised their eyebrow at your yellow bunny ears displayed on your head. They never saw anyone dress or look around like you, not too many chubby people that can dress in this town. Theyinstantly got excited, practically running over there to greet you.

They asked you questions about your choice of style in a town like this and while you answered they couldn’t help but to pay attention to the way your belly kitty necklace and star shaped diamond necklace fell between your high sat boobs. Levi noticed who you were right when he entered the barn disturbing your one sided conversation with the person named Hange. His voice was rough and he was straight forward especially when he asked “ Why dress like a common whore in a barn? Who allowed this?” You didn’t and couldn’t take offense because he was so close to you and eye level to your boobs. You found that funny but wouldn’t say.

Levi was not supposed to have this much interest in you but he did, specifically when he asked a question about why there was a pink bow on top of the alpaca’s ears and insulted you after when you said it looked “cutesy”. He wanted to pluck his ear off from how excited and stupid you sound and were, but he didn’t. It’s clear you just did what you wanted. So, He decided that you’ll be “fixed” with a good lesson. He couldn’t care less if Hange decides to sit through this lesson. You need discipline and

Your moans were muffled by Hange’s pussy covering your mouth as they sat on your face. Your moans from Levi rubbing his fat tip up and down the opening of your hungry, fat pussy, “ That’s right, shut her mouth all the way up, got tired of hearing her talk about a bunch of nonsense.” He purposely bumped his tip into your clit trying hard not to moan at the feeling of your wetness on his dick. Hange looked back with a laugh as they saw Levi bit his lip as he slid inside of your pussy, “ Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, Levi. Maybe you liked hearing her voice more than you thought you did, huh? Levi?”

Levi was about to say a smart remark when you suddenly latched onto his dick with a vicious grip causing him to let out a low whimper, red sprouted onto his face in shame and embarrassment. Luckily, Hange was too busy enjoying herself with your tongue inside of her, “ Ahh, yes { reader}! You’re doing so good for mommy.” Levi cursed at how tight you clamped on him from her little nickname— slapping your clit as a response, “ Your pussy feels so good, so don’t ruin the moment by breaking my dick with all that useless clenching.” Truth: Levi actually loved the way your pussy took him in. The grip was insane to him since he knew you took Erwin, Miche, and Nile before. They were bigger than him in length, not girth though. He only knows because of the orgies they hosted. They never fucked without condoms so why were you special? Hmm.

Levi bent down to bite your nipple as Hange gripped your coils rocking back and forth with a loud moan. They were both enjoying you and you were enjoying yourself a little too much. Almsot breaking at how deep he was fucking you. Hange yanked your head back— your face was in their line of sight and you looked so pretty with their juices covering your cheeks and mouth. They laughed out a happy laugh, “ Levi you should see how slutty her face looks right now.” They paused and hovered over your chest a bit to let you breathe. “ Don’t need to see that when I have the prettiest thing on her body in front of me, her pussy is swallowing me up Hange so don’t talk because you’re gonna ruin my hard on.”

Hange gasped and was about to reply back to him with a sarcastic remark, stopping when they heard a loud moan and slaps increasing rapidly. “ Ha-Ann~, please keep fucking me like this mister Levi, make me yours. Ouhhh.” Levi let a small smirk display in his red and sweat drenched face in victory, “ Got you right where I want now, pretty girl…” he gripped your stretch mark stomach underneath his little, thick fingers, “ Now in order to keep hitting that spot you want, you have to vow you’re gonna be a good girl after this and stop decorating your father’s barn and barn animals with that pink girly shit.”

Your body was shaking and your words were slipping out of your mouth in stutters when you tried to respond, but his long strokes inside of your velvet walls was enough to make you lose basis of the statement he just said to you. Hange tapped your face with three taps, “ Hey, Hey, my little butterfly, don’t tap out now, are you gonna obey what Levi said.” The table bench underneath you all felt like it was about to collapse from the shaking you and Levi were creating, so you quickly answered levi in a loud, “ Yes, just— ahhnn fuck me harder, please sir.. pl-pleasee mommy!!” Levi threw his head back to get his hair out of eyes and locked eyes with Hange, whose neck was turned to him, nodding his head. I’m his mind, he wondered when Furlan and Isabel is coming to town because he knew they would fuck and love on you just as much as he and Hange are doing.

Once Hange moved their pussy back to your mouth, you were in heaven because they tasted so good. Your slurping was music to both of their ears, so Levi rewarded you by placing his head in between your pretty boobs, fucking you faster in the mating press position. His balls were slapping the opening of your other hole and his arms were tightly around your abdomen. He loved the feeling of your stomach and tit moving up and down against his body. You were remarkable. The table shook underneath you three and you were so glad that this was drilled into the ground outside in the back of the barn because if it wasn’t this would’ve been fell. Levi dick was hitting the right spot inside of you, which made your loud moans get Hange off. The strength of your tongue circling around their clit prior to moving inside of their wet pussy was amazing.

All while this was happening, you all didn’t notice a tall shadow in the woods behind the barn watching you all with a small smirk on his face. You were a dumb silly girl who was easy to manipulate and he was going to have much fun with you later on. His nephew may have had you first, but he’ll fuck you better because he need you to know that there is bigger and better out here for you. Plus, he hated your grandfather and now your father, so he was glad he found out that you were his daughter. Only time will tell.

✧˖° Kenny Ackerman + at the lake beach party in the woods

The younger crew that you previously met on the first night invited you out for a party at the private lake beach of Napeville. You have never been to one of these types of swimming parties, mainly because you wouldn’t dare touch the water because of how dirty it is and because you have never been in the woods like this. You blamed your parents for this because now you have to go through the woods just to get to a party Reiner was co-throwing with Connie.

At first, your parents didn’t want you to go since you were on duty-calls for sneaking off to fuck Levi and Hange, they obviously didn’t know that was the reason. Reiner convinced them and said he was going to “ look out for you and help you finish your duties tomorrow. You didn’t know why your parents suddenly trusted Reiner, but they let you go before telling you to watch out for a man named “ Kenny the ripper”. You paid no mind as you walked to your room.

One thing you looked forward to was looking cute at the party. You had the perfect shirts and bikini to wear. Your bikini was a size smaller than your actual size and you and everyone loved it. You would think you would be shy with a body like yours but you weren’t because you and the others thought you were the sexiest person at the party especially with your little back rolls and tummy out.

Your swimsuit did you justice and Kenny thought the same when he lurked around watching you holding the red cup in your hands, never once stepping near the water. He needed to get close and he didn’t have a way right now, so imagine his surprise when you made it easier for him to fuck you while walking through the woods to get to your car for an extra towel for Mikasa.

On the way back to Mikasa, you ran face first into the chest of Kenny Ackerman, a man your parents told you to stay away from just recently too. You couldn’t be stupid enough to insult the older man with a smart remark of how old he is and how you heard that old people have bad eyesight right? You couldn’t be stupid enough to smile when he gave you a backwards compliment on how the pretty gingham wedges you were walking in the woods with is a stupid and cute choice for you, right? You also couldn’t be stupid enough to let him hold you by the neck against a thick tree, only to react with a bite of your plump lip, right? Well you were indeed stupid enough to do all of those things in the act of also getting off to how strong the older man was, wanting a piece of him in the end.

Reasons why you were tied at the hands with your bikini bra and Kenny bottoming inside of you against a tree. Your bouncing tits littered with dark stretch marks hurt as they bounced back and forth against the tree and your moans were muffled by your bikini bottoms, so you were completely naked with only his cowboy hat on your head. Kenny let out a low maniacal laugh at the desperation your eyes plead as they looked back at you, “ My my my, sweet pea, such a dumb little thing aren’t cha’? Didn’t the little shit teach you not to do anymore dumb shit anymore or was it girly shit? Hell if I know, I just know I’m gonna fuck you like the fuckdoll you are.” He tried not to let out a loud moan as he watched your ass bounce back on his big cock, he was bigger than Levi and Erwin put together, you hated it because it didn’t necessarily fit in all the way— your pussy was only taking him just above his pelvis.

“ Gonna tell your old man that his daughter is a town’s whore and shouldn’t be allowed to be. Maybe then that poor excuse of a father will grant me half of his farm land once I send the pictures to his phone, eh? Shit, keep squeezing me like that, sweet pea, and I’m gonna breed this fat little cunt— fill it to the brim and send you home with the next Ackerman generation inside of you.”, Kenny says with a powerful thrust inside of your pussy. The slapping sounds and your muffled pleas were echoed throughout the little area in the woods. Your pussy was something else to him. She warmed his dick up mighty good and he couldn’t help but to admire you. You were definitely a beauty so maybe he shall stick to his original plan.

“Mmgh- mmmm- pldhpse.”, you felt like your eyes were stuck in the back of your head from how hard he was pounding you from behind and against a tree at that. Trees were yucky and splintery to you, in the back of your mind you hoped that wood wouldn't magically appear in your stomach and tits. He bit your ear when he dropped his pants to the ground, instantly groping one of your tits with his right hand and playing with your pussy with his left hand. “ Come on, my pretty pea, set up a little get together with myself and the old fuck of a father, a great fuck greater than the one you have right now is guaranteed as the prize.”

Kenny slowed down his pace before stopping and pulling out of you with his cock touching the back of your thighs. He took the bikini piece balled quotes in your mouth out to let you breathe and talk properly. You didn’t get what he was asking and thought he was an old friend that your family knew, “ yes— please, please, please, I’ll get you that meeting, fuck me Mr., I need— I need your dick inside me. No mercy on my pretty little cunt.” Kenny stared at you wide eyed when you turned around to lock eyes with him. Holy Shit! You were such a needy little whore. He was going to have fun with you. He met a couple of women that were needy for his cock, but not like this.

The next thing you know, your feet was dangling in the air—on the side of his naked waist during the time of his arms underneath your thighs, holding you up as he fucked into you like a mad dog in heat. You were surprised that he could pick you without cracking any bones or hurting his back or arms. He did hunt animals and people, but you didn’t need to worry your pretty head about that. But his cock felt like it was punching your stomach in and out, “ ha-nnn~ s’good, it’s sooo good. Gonna cum all over your meaty cock. Fuck!” Your moans were filling his ears and he loved every word that came out of your mouth, so he sped up his pace, your heels long gone and his pants dropped to his ankles so now you both were fucking like the vampires in the woods on true blood. So deep into each other that you couldn’t think or hear, otherwise you would’ve heard your name being called by Mikasa and Eren.

“ Shh, what’s that I hear, little pea? I hear your friends getting closer, but you don’t seem to care, do you? You stupid little girl, you don’t care that your friends will see you fucking the one man they were told to watch out for? Ah, I got it, your- fucking hell you’re clamping down on me like you never want me to pull out. Such a bad girl you are, huh? Yeah, s’fucking naughty!”, Kenny’s words were getting to you more than the close shouts from Mikasa and Eren. You couldn’t even figure out which direction they were coming from because now Kenny was dipping and moving his hips in a rhythm you couldn’t even decipher in music class if you cared for it. Fuck he was what you needed. Kenny's big hands gripped your ass in his hands, mounding them as he pounded inside of your soaking pussy that was ready to squirt all over his cock. He loved the way you held onto him tightly in fear of him dropping you. You were a piece of work that was sure. Considering how hard and fast he’s going, this would be your first time squirting and it’s sad that it was by the one person you were told to stay away from. When he introduced himself to you after making you squirt and cream onto his cock, all at the same time, You knew you practically signed over your father’s life and land of crops for big mean Kenny Ackerman. You were so fucked, yet you didn’t even noticed or care because you were too fucked out to know that he was the man to fear.

✧˖° Reiner, Porco, and Pieck + Reiner’s room in his ranch

Reiner couldn’t sleep unless he gets a chance with you, but why hadn’t you even looked his way, yet. It's been weeks since his jaw beach party and he couldn’t get you out his head, hell he couldn’t even get the strawberry or other candy/fruit scent out of his mind as well. He knew of the others fucking you and still wanted you, so when you suddenly stood laughing next to Pieck with a big blue lollipop in your mouth, he couldn’t help himself to fantasize that that blue sucker was his cock instead. He couldn’t help but to look over at Pieck and Now Porco eyeing you sucking on the sucker with pure fondness in their postures and eyes. He had a plan.

Luckily for him, Pieck was one step ahead of him when she asked you to go to lunch with them. As she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, she brought her fingers to your shirt that said the words “ Dumb Bimbo in Charge” with rhinestone letters. Reiner and Porco knew what she was doing by making you explain what your shirt meant just for them to not pay attention to shit you were saying. Too focus on how excitedly your boobs bounced as you explained what your shirt meant to you.

Only when you asked the question “ Do you wanna know what Blue lemonade tastes like?” They paid attention and Porco was surprised to see your eyes on him and Reiner, especially Reiner. Gulping and nodding to your question cause you to suddenly dip your blue sucker in your lemonade— putting it back in your mouth sucking harshly. Eventually pulling it out of your mouth whilst bringing Reiner’s face close to yours kissing him. Pock and Pieck were jealous and from that moment on you all decided to visit Reiner parents ranch they left to him.

Your body felt pleasure from all over as Pieck lay under you in a 69 position, taking Porto’s cock inside of her hot pussy during the time of you taking Reiner’s cock inside of your pussy. His moans were so whiny as he moved in and out of your drenched pussy with a thumb inside of your puckering hole, “ She’s so- ahhunn- she’s so eager to take me in, Porco.” You indeed were eager to take him in as the wet sounds of yours and Pieck’s pussy rippled in the room you all were in. Porco grunted as Pieck squeezed against his cock, “ Shit Pieck, Reiner shut the hell up, m’tryna get off here and all I hear is your whiny- annoying ass voice.” Reiner didn’t respond to Provo’s comment due to feeling your push convulse around his dick.

You, on the other hand, was in love with the way Reiner cock took up so much space inside of your pussy, filling you just right. Tears were brought to your eyes as you started feeling the trimmed hair of Reiner’s dick against your ass from how deep he was inside of you, “ Mm’guh, s’deep, I can’t breathe, mmmm.” Reiner smirked as Porco eyes widened at how lewd you were talking about Reiner’s dick beating your pussy in. He couldn’t let Reiner win this, so he stuck two fingers in your mouth since your face was facing him as he dug deep into a moaning Pieck, “ Suck, bitch. After you’re done, suck my girl’s clit as I fuck her. That’s what you’re good for right, Ymir told us all about how skilled your pussy eating is.” You coughed and drooled on his thick fingers as they hit the pack of your throat.

Reiner hissed shapely at your clenching on his cock, landing a harsh smack on your ass with his right hand, “ Seems your pussy took a liking to my cock, doll face. Wonder if she could take the shape of my cock even better than she is right now? Shit~ yeah, yeah, just like that. So fucking tight. Oh~” Pieck was so out of touch with this world that she jumped when she felt a hand slap her clit from below, she then proceeds to stroke a finger over your slit— taking in how sticky her hands are becoming. her moans only grew louder when she felt a calming suck on her clit from you, “ She’s dripping— mmmgh! dripping so much Reiner. She’s doing so good for us.”

Porco eyes rolled to the back of his head as you licked from Piecks pussy to the part of his cock that wasn’t inside of Pieck. Reiner didn’t take kindly to you lifting yourself up to do that. In response, he slammed inside of you, gripping your love handles harshly as he pounded inside of your pussy, “ Stop trying to run, doll face, can’t have you slipping from me to please that fucker.” It was like a different man came out as he pounded into your now bruised pussy. You couldn’t keep up with the licking of Pieck’s cunt because of the power thrust Reiner was doing to your body. “ yes, yes, yeshhh!” Your moans were shut off by Porco snatching your hair down to Pieck’s saturated pussy taking in his cock with a grip you could visibly see.

Reiner and Porco’s chest were glistening with cold sweat as they fucked you and Pieck with meaning. You were on the verge of cumming and wanted to try to hold it, but Pieck latched her luscious lips on your clit, sucking and curling her tongue around you eagerly. Your screams were muffled as it vibrated only Pieck’s pussy causing her to squirt on your face and Porco’s cock. Porco couldn’t believe he was living his dream right now, “ Fuck~ I guess you are worthy little something huh, so fucking sexy.” He rubbed your head during the time of you swirling your tongue on Pieck’s slightly tan pussy. Soon after, Porco gripped Pieck’s hips as he slowly overstimulated her pussy like Reiner was doing your creaming pussy, “ doing so good for me, Pieck. A fucking good girl, now make her squirt f’me, P’.”

Pieck begins to licking more rapidly with her moans vibrating your clit. Reiners pounding only added to your pleasure and soon you were soaking and creaming around his cock and on Pieck’s face. Her eyes closed as you squirted on it, taking in the taste of your juices as well. Reiner’s hand gripped harshly on the headboard of the bed you all were on and with a loud yell of your name he came inside of you with no hesitation. You were so glad that you went to the clinic for a check up and got on birth control, otherwise you would’ve been done for. Kids were not on your list but it was in Reiner’s list as he came inside of you seeing nothing except for hazy imaginary snowflakes as he looked at the ceiling. His chest on your back raised up and down slowly, only jumping from how shook your body was and Porco’s scream as he came into Pieck’s pussy.

Pieck’s moans were so fucking cute to you. You would love to do this again with the three of them, only next time you wanted Porco for yourself. Reiner was perfect, yet you still wanted more. More was in Porco especially with the way he locked eyes with you when you looked up at him through low eyes. His chest raised up and down with the eyes of a person who wanted whatever was in front of them like a kid seeing their favorite plushy and wanting it. Reiner kissed your back whispering a raspy “ thank you” and you squeezed around his limp cock still inside of you. Nothing but a grunt was heard when you did that. He hoped what he heard from your dad wasn’t true. He didn’t want you to leave to go stay with a relative in the city, just to go to college. It’s a college here, a small one, but he hopes it’ll do. It’s also 30 miles away so why couldn’t you stay? Stay.

✧˖° Keith Shadis and Eren Kruger + Theo Magath + at a dinner party inside of your parents house

Your father and mother told you that they were having a dinner party with the residents of this town, mostly the higher ups and they told you to dress appropriately. They were wary of your definition of appropriate so they had to specify it two times for you to get it. And when you asked if you have to attend, the look on your mothers face told you your answer. You are after all their daughter and gonna take over after your parents die after all. Generational farming was not for you. You’re definitely gonna be the one to end that curse.

The list of people that showed up was huge, luckily your house was huge enough for them. Everyone you had sex with was here probably, not that you care. They just better keep it quiet. The noise downstairs was filled with nothing but plates and untensils clattering with loud laughs and talks. You heard a portion of the older man you fucked until the topic of Kenny Ackerman came up.

You wanted to eavesdrop so bad, but thought otherwise because you wanted to finger yourself to the last encounter with the said man. With your head against your fluffy pink silk pillow and hands locked in the handcuffs you brought, you fingered yourself to the memories inside of your head of every person you fucked. You couldn’t help yourself and couldn’t stop fingering yourself as the noise drowned out. You didn’t even stop fingering yourself when Eren Kruger walked into your room, mislaying your room for the bathroom.

Kruger eyes were wide when he walked in on you knuckle deep inside of your pussy moaning multiple men names, some of them was friends of his like Erwin, Levi, Ackerman, Zeke, Hange, etc. he made the conclusion that you were the little fox his colleagues were spending weeks talking about like they were in love with you. God. You looked so pretty with your mouth formed in a little O as you struggled to get off due to your pink handcuffs on your wrist. He closed the door not so quietly causing you to gasp out at the sudden noise. Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. The man who came here three weeks ago to talk with your dad; he was with two other men though.

His grey eyes peeled into you before he spoke to you in a deep gruff voice, “ So you’re the infamous, { reader}. Such a beauty you are…” he stood there, eyeing you slowly closing your legs with your fingers now placed on your pretty stomach, over the fabric of your pretty white dress. Your thighs were what he wanted to be suffocated in and that’s exactly why he came closer to you. You tried to move back to sit up, but he shook his head and immediately you stopped moving like you were in a trance, “ Can I help you out, princess? Want to make you feel good and much better. Allow me to make you feel good, princess.”

You stared at him getting on his knees in his black trousers. You were eyeing the door, slithering your eyes back to him with a meek nod of your head. You were never shy but he had the aura to make you do so. Kruger didn’t waste any time pulling off your panties underneath your dress you were supposed to make your way down the stairs with, “ so pretty.” His deep voice caused you to clench at air and he chuckled with his head still under your dress. He licked a strip of your fat pussy, your body shuddering in response followed by a little whine, “ fuck, please continue.” Kruger obeyed you and took long and slow licks up and down your pussy. Older men and women have proven to be better at everything because you’ve never gripped the sheets just from three licks of your pussy.

Kruger enjoyed the taste of your pussy, wanting to suck that pretty, puffy clit. He sucked your clit with meaning causing you to raise up a little to bunch your dress up over your plump tummy revealing his pretty eyes already on you. His facial structure made him highly attractive outstandingly when he moved his tongue in a slow circle around your clit. You two were lost in each other’s eyes that when the door opened and closed you couldn’t hear it. Your head tilted back at how good he was eating your pussy, “ Just like that, mmm, Mr. Kruger I want more.” Girls in their 20s wasn’t his type because they’re so whiny and much younger than him, yet he couldn’t help groaning into your pussy at your whines.

A hand suddenly grabbed your chin, squeezing your cheeks together. Your eyes widened in high alert when you saw the sunken eyes of a man you were afraid of ever since he came here giving you a mean stare: Keith shadis was a man you genuinely feared and respected enough to want. Kruger hummed against your Pussy prior to speaking once he detached from you with a string of saliva and juice following, “ See you made it, shadis. Didn’t expect you to come in and join, consider me impressed.” Keith's eyes hardened at Kruger, turning to you before he captured your lips with a bruising, hard kiss. Your hips bucked into the air from the hot, steaming kiss you shared with the tall 6’6 man, they were both so tall and big. Keith broke from the kiss with a little peck on your chin and lips, “ Couldn’t let you have all the fun, haven’t had this much fun since 95’. Wouldn’t miss it, although her mouth looks a little bored, a little conniving whore like her needs a cock in her mouth to satisfy her. Who knows? She might even have an oral fixation and if she doesn’t, I’ll create it for her to have.”

Keith pushed you back on the bed, taking his shoes off to climb onto the bed with his knees on the side of your head— messing up your hair a little bit. He unbuckled his pants and his dick popped out slapping you on the forehead, he was uncircumcised yet still had a huge cock you wanted down your throat. You grabbed his cock at the same time Kruger pushed his tongue inside of your pussy, “ Augh-mmmph.” As soon as you opened your mouth, Keith shoved his cock down your throat, fucking your throat fast with a vicious grip on your hairstyle you got. It hurts so good. Theo opened the door and slide inside to watch with a cigar handing out his mouth. His eyes was focused on how well you took Keith’s dick inside of your mouth. He looked down at his trousers and shifted. Keith and Kruger knew he was there but you didn’t. How could you when Keith’s groans and Kruger’s slurping was heard along with your muffled moans from the dick sucking you were happily doing.

Keith was in heaven once your tongue slid I’ve this veins and Kruger was in heaven when your pussy drowned his face in your juices. Theo Magath was just a bystander and man did he want to join— he’ll wait out his turn. While you were about to get sucked down by three older men, your family was downstairs with the men and women you already gave yourself to. Such a slut and your parents had no idea what you’ve been doing and what you’re doing right now. You heard them calling you downstairs, though you were too busy being used by all three men upstairs in your recent decorative room. After all, you are the Farmer’s daughter that turned into the town’s Slut. Therefore, you are now the Town’s Slut and you’re not going anywhere else any time soon.

Tagging: @shunsuist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @nutheadgeenat ( if you wanted to be tagged), @angelshub @bontens-angel and anyone else who wants to be tagged in.

And the eyes are still staring. A pair of two in particular that you can see piercing at you and your girlfriend from across the way. The two smoldering pairs of eyes belong to two very attractive men dressed in their best designer.

They each have features that stand out to you as intriguing: the tallest one sitting on the right has long, black hair you bet is soft to the touch while the one on the left has arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings. 

They are both hot. That much is clear. And their alluring, lustful stares are definitely piping you up as you sit nice and pretty with your girlfriend, a second fruity cocktail in your hand that will soon turn into a third. But though they are hot, you know four other men that are way hotter and that you would rather be here with you and Mina tonight. 

But noooo, they’re just too damn busy to make time for their pretty girlfriends. 

You mean towards Mina, dipping low to speak into her ear over the music blasting from the speakers overhead. “They can stare all they want,” you retort. “I’m way more interested in the four idiots that aren’t here right now.” 

Mina scoffs, sipping on her second tequila sunrise of the night. You both love your girly drinks. “Waiting on them to come?” she chuckles, the flashing club lights making her ink-black eyes gleam.

You flush in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the AC blasting and the exposed skin your little get-up provides. “You’ll be waiting a loooong time then, baby girl,” Mina scoffs, crossing her smooth, muscular legs over one another. “You know they’re at that meeting tonight discussing business or whatever.” 

She rolls her eyes, ever the brat of your relationship. But you’re not exactly the opposite though. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t pissed that your boyfriends aren’t here, buying you and Mina all of the pretty drinks you want, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and hyping you up in your outfits. 

You made sure to look hotter than hot tonight. Like hot enough to make a man nut in his pants as soon as he sees you. You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass where a rhinestone G-string snugly sits below your stomach and in your ass crack.

You love, love, love this dress–how beautiful the pink fabric looks against your skin; how sexy it makes you feel. Not to mention how the hem of it barely covers your ass. If you are to bend over right now, everyone would get a good view of your ass that looks even plumper from the sparkly G-string.  

The dress is one of your boys’ favorites. They’ve torn it off of you many, many times before. Combined with your heeled sandals, fresh mani and pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and long braids that caress your back, you feel like a damn vixen. 

Mina looks good enough to eat too. She decided on a mesh bodysuit that is skintight against her body and breasts, exposing the black bra she wears underneath, red pumps, and a leather mini skirt that doesn’t do much to cover the bottom of her asscheeks. You’re not sure if she’s wearing any panties, but knowing Mina and her bratty self, she did that for a reason. 

She was the one who came up with this little plan to rile your busy pro boyfriends’ up. One hot afternoon while lounging by your pool at your shared condo, you two were more than pissed that your boys were still at work after saying they’d be home by two.

“Sorry, babes,” Denki sighed over speakerphone. “Patrol is takin’ much longer than we thought it would, so we’re still out here in the street. It’s hot as a bitch out here too.” You could hear the frustrations in his usually-upbeat tone as he gave you and Mina the rundown. 

“Well, you could just leave early, can’t you?” you ask. “Aren’t there other pros working besides you, Sero, Kiri, and ‘Suki?” 

You hear Sero make a “tsk” sound into the phone. “We wish we could, mama,” he sighs. “Almost everybody called out ‘cause of the heat, so we’re pretty much the only ones workin’ still, but we get a fat bonus out of this.” 

“We’d better!” Katsuki hollers in the background. “It’s so hot out here, my fuckin’ balls are sweating. You two brats complainin’ aren’t makin’ things better for me either.” 

You and Mina stared at each other in your designer sunglasses, mouths agape and offended. “Hey!” Mina scoffed, taking your phone from you. “It’s not our fault we feel neglected! You four have been blowin’ us off for weeks now to do work!” 

And she’s right. The usual attention you and Mina get from your adoring, hot boyfriends has since been dwindling down ever since they started taking on more work at their agency. Now it’s all about work. 

You try to get one of them to go out with you for a night in the city? “Sorry, babe, but I’ll be in the office late.” 

You want to cuddle? “Baby, I can’t; this paperwork ain’t gonna do itself. Maybe later tonight.” 

You want one of them to blow your back out and fucking do something about the ache between your legs? “Don’t you got one of your toys? We can do that later, alright?” That response was from Katsuki a week ago stressing over the whereabouts of a villain committing petty theft all over the city. 

This dry spell has been happening for weeks now. And when you say a “dry spell”, you mean that shit. Not only have the boys been blowing you and Mina off for time alone, but the bedroom is dryer than the fucking Sahara desert. 

While sex isn’t always between the six of you every single time, you miss it being that way--the connection you all have being together, touching and teasing each other; giving each other pleasure. You miss your favorite men aka your Daddies domming you and Mina into submission, taking turns on your bodies and poor little pussies until you’re both aching for release.

And more than anything, you miss the aftercare. You miss the cuddle piles; the soft kisses from Kiri; the the mindless touches from Sero; the nuzzles from Denki; and the soft humming from a very sleepy Katsuki. 

Recently, you and Mina have had to spent time with each other in the bedroom by yourselves without your daddies, if not use your toys. Though your rose toy and vibrator get the job done, toys never compare to physical touch. You need your boys. But they’re just too busy. 

So Mina came up with the perfect idea after Katsuki told her to “sit her ass down, watch her mouth, and wait for them to get home” before hanging up and proceeding with their patrol. “We should go out,” she said as you began to put sun tan oil on her muscular back. Her eyes were closed and her face was relaxed. 

“What, like, tonight?” you asked, rubbing your hands together once more to heat up the oil. Mina softly moaned as your hands knead into her back muscles, the sounds going straight to your clit. “Why not?” she replied. “Or this weekend. Maybe we can go dancing and meet some guys that’ll give us the attention we’re cravin’.” 

She giggled at this, but you could tell she was serious. “I don’t know, Mina,” you hesitantly said, rubbing oil into her shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong; I love the idea of goin’ out to shake my ass and look cute, but without the guys? You know how they feel about other guys checkin’ us out.”

You stopped rubbing her down and she looked back at you, concerned. “What if they get mad?” you timidly ask. 

You’ve seen the boys mad before and didn’t want to face that wrath…or did you? The idea of riling your daddies up so much that they punished you with enough spanks to make your ass sting and filled your throat up to the point your eyes teared appealed to you more than you’d like to admit. 

Mina could tell you were thinking it over and turned over, exposing her gorgeous breasts in her gold bikini top to you. “So what if they get mad?” she scoffed. “They’d better put that aggression into fucking us if that happens. We’ve been trying to get their asses to show us a little attention for weeks, but it’s always about work!”

She sat up, taking your hands in hers. “So if they don’t want to pay attention to us, then we’ll make them pay attention––by wearing our hottest shit and spending time with some dudes that would gladly give us what we want.”

She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes. “So what do you say, baby girl? This Saturday?” 

All you could do was smile back as an excited flutter formed in your tummy. Now here you were one a hot Saturday night, wearing your sluttiest outfits and getting checked out without your boys here to keep an eye on you. Just like you and Mina planned.

“You really think they won’t show up?” you ask, slight disappointment blooming in you. “We posted our pics all over IG, so you know they saw.” 

“They probably did,” Mina says, wrapping her glossy, sparkly lips around her straw to sip her cocktail. “If they aren’t tied up at work, that is. Can you imagine them walking in here right now? Katsuki would probably have us bent over this couch.” 

You laugh along with her, cackling at your boyfriend’s reaction. “Or Sero would tie us up and drag us out of here,” you giggle.

Your eyes then glide up and down your girlfriend’s form in her clothes, your mouth suddenly dry. “You know, you really look so good tonight. I almost don’t even want the boys to have you.” 

She giggles, pressing a sticky kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, babe,” she purrs into your ear. “You look absolutely delicious.”

Her hand glides down to her ass, squeezing it. “Y’know, I bet those guys over there would say the same thing. Don’t wanna waste this little fit, do you?” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the long-haired hottie take a drag of his blunt that suddenly looks very appealing to you.

‘Fuck it,’ you think. You came here to not only rile up your boys, but to also let loose and have some fun. Why stay back here and act like you aren’t interested in these two? 

So you stand and take Mina’s hand in yours. “Let’s go and say hi,” you purr.

Mina giggles excitedly from beside you, sipping on her drink like it’s justice as you walk her over to the leering duo. Their stares get even more lustful and lecherous as you get closer to them, their eyes gliding over your legs, hips, thighs, and titties jiggling with every step. 

You know what they want and there is no way you’re going to give it up to them. You wouldn’t dare ruin your amazing, romantic, poly relationship with Mina and your boys. But the idea of acting up with them enough to ruffle the feathers of your boyfriends makes your heart skip a beat and your pussy leak.

You stop in front of them with Mina, smiling down at them. “Are those seats taken?” you ask, a breathless, sexy tone leaking into your voice. You point one manicured finger at the empty spots beside either one of them. 

The duo look at the empty seats then at each other before smirking up at you both. “Not at all,” the tattooed one answers. “Please, join us. We’ve been waitin’ on you two all night.”

Mina giggles as she sits down next to him while you take a seat next to the long-haired one. “We can tell; you two have been starin’ at us almost all night.” 

The tattooed man laughs, flashing his pearly whites at your girlfriend. “Well, it’s not every day you see a pro hero and her pretty friend walk into a club.”

At the mention of 'friend', you look at Mina, trying not to laugh at her wobbling lips as she struggles to keep in her giggles. 

“Well, you’re in luck then,” you chuckle. “I’m Y/N and of course, you know Mina aka Pinkie.”

The long-haired hottie takes short puff of his blunt, making sure to blow it out of your face. “I’m Aki and this here is Kanaki,” he says in a deep, raspy voice that would make any woman’s pussy wet. His friend, Kanaki, gives you a nod. “We just got done some boxing practice and came here for a night out.” 

“Oh, you’re boxers?” Mina asks, interested. Kanaki smiles at her, dimples popping in his cheeks. He’s a panty-dropper too. “Best in the business,” he cockily replies. “We come here often for relaxation, but we’ve never seen you two before.” 

“Work unfortunately keeps us busy,” Mina explains, “but tonight was a good night for us. We’re just here for a good time.” Kanaki smirks at Aki before turning back to Mina, his intentions pure to you. “So are we,” he rasps, . “I bet we could all have some fun together.” 

Aki nods in agreement, taking another puff of his blunt. He sees you watching him and removes the blunt from his lips, a puff of smoke billowing from between his lips. “Want a hit?” he asks. “You smoke?” 

“Not often,” you sheepishly reply, “but I’m here to relax so…if you don’t mind…”

Aki passes you the blunt without another word and you take a small hit, coughing a bit as the smoke fills your lungs. When you take another short puff, you already feel the weed take effect on you and let the smoke billow from your parted, glossed lips. Aki watches your mouth, hypnotized. 

“You ladies want some drinks?” Kanaki asks, already whipping out his wallet. “We’re buying.”

You and Mina share an excited look and look at the drink menu before ordering a round of Patron shots with a side of lemon, lime, and salt. You and Mina finish your cocktails before indulging in the shots with Aki and Kanaki, pretending not to notice them staring at your lips when you suck on the lemon and lime slices. 

Suddenly, one shot turns into two. Then three. Then four. And then two puffs of Aki’s joint turn into four.

Before you know it, you are absolutely fucking gone. And before you know it, an hour later after meeting the two, you’re on the dance floor with them and Mina, the weed making you feel relaxed and the alcohol making you feel like you could touch the moon.

You feel light as a feather, giggly, and bubbly. The world is spinning and slightly blurry, but it also seems beautiful and nice to you. Everything is good. Everyone is sexy. 

Especially your girlfriend. She grinds against you now, her body pressed against yours as you rock against each other to the R&B song playing. Your hands are under her skirt, grasping her asscheeks and giving Kanaki a flash of her jiggling, pink cheeks that he can’t seem to keep his eyes off of. 

Aki is the same. He stands beside you two in the crowd of grinding bodies under the flashing lights, ogling at your bodies grinding against each other. You giggle with Mina’s arms still snaked around your waist, her hips flush against yours as you pull your phone out of your purse.

You fumble to tap in your code and open the camera app, but once you do, you raise your phone up towards your girlfriend and your “friends” for the night. “Smile, y’all!” you drunkenly shout. “Smile for the camera!” 

You smile at your phone, big and bright. Mina gives your phone the middle finger and a devious smile while Kanaki and Aki barely look at the phone when the flash goes off. You can’t even put your phone away before Mina is all over you again, tossing her arms around your neck.

“Gimme a kiss, Y/N,” she whines, puckering her lips at you. Drunk off of her and everything around you, you grip the back of her head and pull her in close for a sloppy, lustful kiss. 

You plunge your fingers through her messy, pink girls while she trails her hands down to your ass, gripping it. You moan into her mouth, giving her the opportunity to slip her tongue into it and swirl it with yours. Soft moans and giggles emit between you, floating in the air and to the ears of Kanaki and Aki that have gotten much closer to you and Mina, watching the scene unfolding before them. 

Your phone suddenly vibrates and you pull away from a pouty Mina, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Hold up, I’m getting a call!” you laugh. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

You give Mina a wink before stumbling off of the dance floor, pulling down your skirt in the back as much as you can. You decide to go to the nearest ladies’ room and lean against the wall where the long line is before answering the call.

You look down at the caller ID, grinning when you see one of your boyfriends’ names there. With a drunk giggle, you answer. “Hellooo?” you sing into the phone. 

“There the fuck you are!” Katsuki huffs with relief. “Where the fuck are you two? We’ve been calling you two all night! Texting you, blowin’ up your phone!” You scowl confusedly at this newfound information. “You have?” you ask, confused. 

Briefly, you pull your phone away from your ear and check your missed calls and texts. Sure enough, Katsuki is right: you have two missed calls Kiri, one from Denki, a text from Sero asking if you’re okay, and three calls and a very angry text from Katsuki asking where the fuck you are. “Oh!” you giggle, continuing the call. “Sorry, my ringer is off.” 

As you thought, Katsuki is not happy about that at all. “Why the fuck is your ringer off, Y/N?” he growls. “And where are you? It’s loud as fuck in there. I can’t even hear you.” 

You put one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you scoff. Katsuki pauses, obviously not believing you just said that. Do you want to die? 

But it isn’t Katsuki who speaks this time––it’s Kiri. “Yes, we do,” he replies in a voice you’ve never heard from him before. It sounds like it’s taking everything in him to not reach through the phone and spank you. “Don’t play with us right now, Y/N. Where are you and Mina?” 

Your stomach twirls nervously at the undercurrent of anger in Kiri’s voice, but it also causes heat to pool between your legs. Kiri isn’t the type to get worked up so easily, so to see it now is kind of hot. “Well, for your information, shark boy,” you scoff, “my girlfriend and I are at a nice club havin’ nice drinks with these very nice guys we met since you four are too busy for us.”

You take a lock of your braids and twirl it around your finger as more word vomit rises to the surface. “Oh, they bought us shots too. And one said he likes my dress.” 

“You’re wearin’ that pink one?” Denki asks, sounding excited. You giggle giddily in response, finding humor in his whine. But Katsuki stomps on that giddiness real quick. “Dammit, why’d you have to pull that one out?!” he snaps. 

You take the phone away from your ear for a moment, scowling at it. Who the fuck is he yelling at?!

“Because you four idiots are too busy to take care of us!” you snap right back. “So we’re out here doin’ it ourselves. We’ve been asking you four to spend time with us for weeks, but it’s always, ‘Noooo, Y/N, we’ve got paperwork to finish’. ‘No sex tonight, Mina; we’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning’.” 

You lean your foot back down to the ground and cross your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small. “We’re just feelin’ neglected,” you weakly say. “We miss our boys.” 

The other side of the phone is silent, the boys obviously dumbfounded at the truth in your and Mina’s horrible decision. “Baby, just come home, okay?” Kiri soothingly says. “We can talk about then.”

Sero agrees, taking the phone. “Yeah, mama, just relax and we can discuss it at all in private,” he coos. “Here, let me order you two a Lyft and–“ 

“I don’t want a Lyft,” you shortly reply. “I wanna dance. I wanna have fun. So I’m gonna go now.” 

“Wait, Y/N!” Katsuki shouts, but your finger is already hovering over the button to end the call.

“Byeeee!” you shriek into the phone before hanging up. The illusion of pride overflows inside of you as you strut back over to the dance floor.

‘I told them,’ you think proudly with a giggle, not even thinking about how you’re going to get your pussy beaten black and blue later for this little charade. 

When you shimmy back onto the dance floor, Mina is twirling her lips like it’s no one’s business and holding a new drink. “Ooooh, what’s that?” you ask, pointing at her glass. It is orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise but better.

Mina gives you a deviously sexy look, her gold eyes shimmering. You know exactly what she wants. “Wanna taste it?” she giggles, and you nod, practically salivating for another taste of her. 

You let her yank you over to her before she takes a sip of the drink. Instantly, you open your mouth wide and tilt your head back, allowing her to hover her mouth over yours and spit the alcohol and her saliva right into your mouth. You hum appealingly at the taste of her and the fruity drink, the nasty act making you gush in your thong.

Kanaki and Aki are close to falling out from the scene. “Fuck!” Aki groans. “Can you do that to me too please?” 

Mina turns to the boys, wagging her finger at them. “Mm-mm, sorry,” she giggles. “That’s reserved for my girl.” She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close into her perfume-soaked neck. “And our daddies,” she whispers. “You think they’re mad at us?” 

You know for a fact from the phone call that they are livid, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much. The alcohol, the music, and Mina’s lips don’t allow you to. All you want right now is her.

You wordlessly lean in to kiss her again, your lips moving sloppily against each other. You both moan into each other’s mouths as your tongues swirl and flick against one another, too drunk to realize that you two are tongue kissing in public. 

“God, you two are so fucking hot,” Aki groans from behind you. “I’d kill to touch either of you.” 

Mina pulls away, all of her lipgloss gone and somewhere on your mouth. “We know!” she giggles. “Butcha can’t, can they, Y/N?” She winks playfully at you, wrapping her arms securely around your body. “We already belong to someone…well, somebodies.” 

You giddily nod, turning to Aki. He has gotten closer, so close than you can see the bulge that has begun to protrude from his pants. “As sexy as you two are?” he scoffs, leering down at you under the strobe lights. “Of course, but they ain’t here, are they?” 

“I wouldn’t put money on that, pal,” Kiri replies from behind him.

Wait…Kiri?! 

You and Minajump like you see a ghost as soon as you lay eyes on the big and buff redheaded hunk. He stands there behind Aki with his inked, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest covered by a black muscle tee. And he doesn’t look the least bit happy.

Aki jumps at the sight of him, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Red Riot?!” he asks you and Mina, shocked. “You’re dating Red Riot?!” 

You and Mina don’t answer, too flabbergasted at the presence of your boyfriend standing there, looking very disappointed in both of his girls. “So this is where you two headed off to,” he sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “I knew Denki would recognize the place from your IG stories.”

His red eyes tick between the two of you. “You two are in big trouble, you know that, right?” 

You and Mina look at each other, faces pale and fear in your eyes. You two are fucked. “K-Kiri, we…” Your mouth runs dry, your tongue too heavy for words. Kiri’s brows raise expectantly. 

“You…what?” he asks. “You decided to be two needy little brats and make us worry over you? You wanted to get a rise out of us?” The corner of his pierced lips curl into a crooked, dry smirk. “Well, baby girls, you did.” 

Your body is on fire, but not out of excitement. You know damn well you’re going to get an earful about this from all of them, not just your platinum blonde-haired Chihuahua of a boyfriend. “Kiri, we’re sorry,” Mina weakly says, staring up at the redhead through her lashes.

Usually, her soft, puppy-dog eyes work, but not this time. “Oh, it ain’t just me you’re gonna have to apologize to, baby girl,” Kiri chuckles darkly. “You’ve also got these three.” 

His eyes tick above your heads. Even without turning around, you can sense the presence of your three other boyfriends standing behind you.

When you and Mina slowly turn, you’re met with the very ticked-off Katsuki, Sero, and Denki standing behind you, arms crossed over their buff chests and anger radiating off of them in waves. 

Oh, shit. 

Your eyes widen as Mina grabs your hand, gripping it tightly. You both know you’re fucked. “What’s up, mamis?” Sero snickers, staring down at you and Mina with a dark look. “You look scared.”

Denki grins deviously at you, practically licking his chops. “Both of them do,” he giggles. “Like they’re lookin’ at their death.” 

Bakugou barely moves except for the slight twitch by his eye––a sign that he is very, very angry. “Not till we get ‘em home,” he growls.

His eyes then tick up to Aki and Kanaki still standing near you, their eyes wide with shock. “Da fuck are you two still standin’ there for, huh?” Bakugou snarls. “They’re ours. Now back the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.”

He raises his hand and the crackle of his sweat glistening in his palm is all it takes to send the two men scrambling off. 

You and Mina are practically shivering in your boots as your four boyfriends stand over you, the fear of the unknown taking over your bodies. What’s going to happen when they get you home? Are they going to spank your asses until they’re red? Are they going to edge you until you’re both crying and begging for release?

Or, even worse...are they just going to do nothing at all? No touching or teasing? Neither one of their thick cocks filling you up? 

Katsuki’s crimson eyes flick around the room, noticing the club-goers watching them in awe.

“Let’s get outta here,” he grumbles lowly. “Too many eyes.”

Sero gives a nod before raising his elbows and shooting several yards of sticky tape at you and Mina. You girls shriek as the tape sticks to your wrists and ankles, tying them together so movement is nearly impossible. Before you can protest, Katsuki is hosting you over his shoulder while Kiri scoops Mina up bridal style, much to her dismay. 

“Wait!” you shout, batting your fists against Katsuki’s muscular back. “Put me down!” This only gets you a hard smack on the ass that has you gasping and tears stinging in your eyes.

It only gets worse as he travels through the club and you catch the wandering eyes of strangers. Some have their phones out, taking pictures and recording, laughing and gossiping. It’s so humiliating. All you want to do is hide under your covers and never come out again. 

You’ve never felt more revealed until you’re outside at the valet, the cool air soothing your clammy, hot skin. When you finally get to the sleek, black Range Rover that the boys each share among each other (you have a white one while Mina’s is pink), Katsuki and Kiri finally lower you and Mina down onto the pavement. You don’t bother pulling down your dress, your dignity already ruined. 

Katsuki looks like he’s about to blow a damn fuse judging from the vein pulsing in his neck. “Can’t believe you two did this shit,” he angrily growls. “Had me stressin’ at work, blowin’ up your goddamn phone, wondering if you two were okay…only to see that you two brats were flashin’ your pussies for those two extras in there.”

You stare down at your shoes, pissed at your boyfriends’ behavior but also at your own. You just wanted some attention is all. Mina peers up at Katsuki through her black lashes with her ink-black eyes, her lips smudged of her lipgloss. “Katsuki,” she weakly says.

Katsuki’s eyes sharpen at his government name being used. “Who?” he growls, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. You and Mina share the same ‘uh-oh’ look, realizing that your man has now switched into fully Daddy Dom mode. You’re sure the other three have done the same. And that is so, so hot. 

Mina nervously licks her lips, squeezing her thighs together. “D-Daddy,” she whimpers. “Please, guys, it was all my idea. I wanted to–“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki growls. Mina buttons her lip as he opens the door to the backseat, jutting his chin inside the car. “Get your asses in the car, now.”

You and Mina have no choice but to climb into the backseat of the car, getting two harsh smacks on the ass in the process. Denki and Sero get in behind you and position themselves in their seats first before having you and Mina sit in their laps. 

When Katsuki and Kiri get in the front seats, Katsuki practically jams his key into the ignition and tails out of the valet like a bat out of hell. He has gotten plenty of tickets before for his driving which becomes exceedingly more reckless when he is pissed.

Only now now he is pissed and also horny: a dangerous combination. Kiri turns on the stereo and bumps a City Girls song; one that you particularly like and always gets you dancing. 

Denki grips your hips from underneath you, nearly digging his nails into your mini dress. “Oooh, you two are gonna get it at home,” he growls, a devious edge to his voice. You sit rigidly on top of him, legs closed and hands in your lap. “But before that happens…”

You feel his warm hand on your cheek, turning you to face him and those electric, golden eyes. “Now show us exactly what you were doin’ with those two in there, princess,” he hums. “It was pretty good music. I bet you were grinding this pussy all over them on that dance floor, weren’t you?” 

His hands slide down your sides to your thighs, squeezing them generously, before using one hand to pry your legs open to reveal your glittery thong. You whimper as his fingers begin to slide up and down the tiny cloth covering above your pussy. “Mmm, so wet already,” he coos to you. “Was that because of those guys or ‘cause you knew we’d fuck you up when you finally got home?” 

You don’t answer, not sure how to. Plus, Denki’s fingers rubbing circles around your clit is making it hard to think straight. “Katsuki, turn up the music,” he orders.

The platinum-blonde glaringly stares at his golden-haired boyfriend through the rearview mirror. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he growls, but does so anyway. The music is soon bumping through the speakers as Katsuki zooms down the highway, swerving lanes like a madman. 

Denki begins to swerve and swirl his hips underneath you, bumping his hard-on against your pussy and ass. “Dance for us, princess,” he demands, taking his hand to give your thigh a smack.

He turns to Mina who has her skirt up her thighs, Sero’s hands all over her. “That goes for you too, Pinkie. Show us exactly how hard you got those losers in there.” 

You press your lips together disapprovingly. “But they weren’t–“

You’re cut off by a sharp hiss from your lips when Denki grabs your hair, yanking on it. “Is that lip?” he asks, a growl in his voice. Heat pools between your thighs at his switch in character.

Usually, though mischievous, Denki is very laid-back, so to see him way out of his element and being so dominant with you is a major turn-on for you. You slowly shake your head and he releases your hair though your scalp stings. “That’s what I thought. Now get to it.” 

So you and Mina dance for the men sitting underneath you, your asses twirling and grinding into their laps and hardened cocks underneath their pants. You place your hands firmly on Denki’s knees and your feet on the car floor as you toot your ass up and down for him, shaking it as much as you can in the backseat. The more you dance, the more Denki ogles and grabs, the more turned-on he gets. 

“Look at this lil’ dress ridin’ up,” he coos, his hands back under your dress. “I bet it was like that on the dance floor, wasn’t it? And what’s this here?”

He roughly pulls you back down to sit on his lap and lifts your dress up high to reveal your sparkly thong. “My favorite thong too?” A deep, aroused growl emits from his throat. “I didn't realize you were wearin’ it, babe. You’re just lookin’ to get fucked, aren’t you?” 

He begins to rub circles along your clit again, sending sparks of pleasure deep into your core. Before you can say anything to stop him, his fingers are creeping under your thong to move them aside, revealing your aching, puffy, wet pussy to him, Sero, and Kiri and Katsuki who stare in the rearview mirror.

“Denki,” you whimper, your thighs quivering as his fingers ghost over your pussy, teasing you even more. 

“You’re wearin’ that glittery shit?” Katsuki rumbles, his knuckles turning white from how tight he’s gripping the wheel. “You’re gonna fuckin’ get it later, I hope you know that.” 

“This one ain’t no better,” Sero comments along with Mina’s soft whimpers. You turn, finding his fingers under Mina’s dress. “Just look at this shit!” He cackles as he lifts her dress up to reveal her bare, apple-bottomed, pink ass to the whole car.

Kiri turns around now, staring into the backseat. “No panties, babe?” he laughs in awe. “Guess you two were desperate for everyone to know how slutty you are.” 

You watch as Sero begins to toy with Mina, pressing his mouth on both of her asscheeks to nibble and kiss at them. Mina wantonly moans, her eyes fluttering closed as her boyfriend’s hands move to her sides, his fingers sliding up and down them.

You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize that Denki has removed his hand from your thong to replace it with his knee. His solid knee feels so good on your throbbing pussy and clit, giving you the relief you need as you begin to grind your cunt against his thigh. “Denki,” you whimper. “Please.” 

Denki moves his hand to place on your throat, not squeezing but letting you know it’s there. “Please what, princess?” he hums. “Hm? You wanna stop?”

You weakly shake your head, words dying in your throat as whimpers and moans bubble to the surface. Denki chuckles and grips your neck harder now, causing you to gasp. “Of course, you don’t, you little slut,” he whispers into your ear. “Of course you like grinding on my thigh like the desperate cumslut you are.” 

“Fuck, Sero!” Mina suddenly squeals from beside you. In the haze of your pleasure, you turn, finding Mina with her legs open wide and Sero’s finger curling into her wet pussy. As he slowly fingerfucks her, you can hear how wet Mina’s pussy is, the lewd sounds making you grind harder against Denki’s thigh. 

“Fuck!” Katsuki grunts. “I can hear how wet they are. You two brats are lucky I’m driving.” Kiri is just about dying, ogling at the two of you from the passenger’s seat. “God, that’s so hot,” he groans. “I can't wait to get you two home.” 

And only when you two get home. Making that clear, Denki forces you to stop by gripping your waist and Sero pauses his fingerfucking to give you both a firm glare. “Don’t cum,” Katsuki orders, staring sharply at both of you girls in the rearview mirror. “Neither one of you. If you cum now, you won’t be able to cum later, understood?” 

Though dizzy with pleasure, you and Mina manage to answer him the way he wants to be answered: “Yes, daddy,” you both weakly say, chests heaving, hearts racing, and pussies wet. 

When you finally get in the house fifteen minutes later after flying across the city, you barely have any time to get your shoes off before the boys are hustling you and Mina upstairs.

At some point, Katsuki throws you over his shoulder and Kiri hikes Mina up in his arms, running up the steps with you girls as you squeal in protest. When you get to your master bedroom, Katsuki kicks the door open and tosses you onto the bed. You shriek as you go flying before hitting the mattress, bouncing a bit as you do. 

Mina goes flying too as Kiri tosses her down beside you. You two them lay on your backs, staring up at your four boyfriends looming over your tinier figures, staring down at you almost predator-like.

“What should we do with them first?” Denki excitedly asks, lust in his eyes.

Katsuki deviously smirks at you and Mina, filling you with dread. “I’ve got just the thing,” he chuckles before glaring down at you girls. “Get on your knees, hands behind your back.” 

Sharing a withering look, you and Mina slowly do as Katsuki says. As you sit with your pretty asses facing them in such a submissive position, the four groan at the sight, making you bite your lip in utter anticipation.

The throbbing in your pussy only gets worse when Sero reapplies the tape to your ankles and wrists, making it hard to move or escape. You’ve never been this horny before. What is it about pissing your boyfriends off that makes you so damn wet? 

Sero then steps back to admire his handiwork. “Now neither one of you can run from us,” he deviously hums. “We can do whatever the fuck we want with you now.”

That turns you on even more: to be so helpless under their touches; to be completely at their mercy. Sero runs a finger down your cheek, his touch making you quiver. ”But you wouldn’t run away even if you didn’t have my tape wrapped around your wrists, would you?” 

You know the answer: hell no. And Mina knows it too. 

“Bend ‘em over,” Katsuki grunts, foreplay be damned. “I need to teach these two greedy sluts a lesson in obedience.”

Sero and Kiri do as they are ordered and position you and Mina so you’re both bent over, knees and the soles of your feet dug into the mattress. “Are we being punished?” Mina asks, her voice slightly muffled from the mattress. 

You adjust your head slightly to look behind you, finding Katsuki glaring at her from above. He then yanks her skirt over her pink ass before doing the same to you, leaving the thong on.

“What the fuck do you think?” he hisses before his hand is colliding with the meat of her ass. A loud whine leaves Mina’s lips and you flinch at the harsh sound of skin colliding with skin. 

You don’t have much time to prepare when Katsuki is giving you the same treatment. His hands are rough from years of pro-hero work, so his slaps hurt like hell. They are rough and sting like fire licking across your skin. You gasp and gnaw harshly on your lip to avoid crying out.

He continues to do this to both you and Mina, making your asses jiggle and tears spring into your eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” he grunts. “To get punished like this? Make me lose my mind like this?” 

You dig your face into the mattress, muffling your screams of pain at merciless spanks.

Finally, Kiri tags in, putting a hand on Katsuki’s chest to stop him. “My turn,” he darkly chuckles. “Brace yourself, ladies. You know my hand is heavy.”

And boy, is it. Way more than Katsuki’s because of his quirk. His hands are hard and rough, his palms calloused. 

And they hurt even worse when they collide with your ass. Adding new, fresh spanks on top of the ones Katsuki already gave you is the worse pain you’ve ever felt. It’s excruciating. You’re so sure that your ass is red despite your skin tone at this point with how harsh Kiri is being.

“Don’t flinch,” he orders. “You wanted this shit, then you’ve got it. All the attention you could ask for."

He gives both you and Mina the same treatment, wailing in on your asses like he's trying to get some gold rings out of you. He babbles about how fat your asses are and how they jiggle whenever he smacks them, obviously enjoying how they move.

Then it’s Denki’s turn. Ever the sadist, when he brings his hand down upon you, he makes sure to slip his quirk in too. As his hand collides with your ass, a tiny spark shoots from his palm to your ass straight through your ass. You quiver and shake at the short electrocution, a gasp leaving your lips.

“Oops!” he mockingly says. “Guess I let my quirk slip.” Though you can’t see it with your face still in the mattress, you can hear Mina’s shriek and feel her body shivering when Denki gives her the same treatment. 

“Fuck, that shiver was so cute,” Kiri groans. “Do that again, Denks.”

Denki does so to both you and Mina, giving you two shock after shock. Each one is more intense than the next, making you feel as if you are repeatedly being poked with an electric rod. Then it’s Sero’s turn and though he gives your asses some wet kisses first to soothe the pain, all of that goes to shit when his hands collide with your asscheeks too. 

Minutes feel like hours the more hits you take from them, one after the other. Your and Mina’s cries fill the bedroom, bouncing off of the walls for no one to hear. Your ass begins to ache and sting to the point where you’re crying, the comforter wet beneath you.

“Please stop!” you tearfully beg. “It hurts!” Mina sniffles beside you, softly crying at the pain. 

Though the spanks luckily stop, you feel two rough, thick fingers peel your soaked thong away from your cunt and play with your pussy, easing some of the fiery stings along your asscheeks.

“Your pussy says something completely different,” Katsuki tsks. “Little slut. You still need to be taught a lesson, don’t you?”

You then suddenly feel his thick, wet tongue sliding along your wet folds, sucking on your pussy lips and on the sensitive bud of your clit. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, your ass shamelessly arching into his face. “F-Fuck, ‘Suki!” you moan. 

You turn your head to look at Mina, finding Kiri kneeling behind her ass, his hands prying her cheeks apart. “Don’t think you don’t get the same treatment, bratty girl,” he teasingly purrs before his mouth is on Mina’s pretty, pink pussy, devouring every inch of it. 

Katsuki isn’t at all slow or loving. He eats every single part of your pussy, sucking harshly on the right places and being more gentle yet merciless with the other, more sensitive parts of you. You even feel his finger sliding against the puckered hole of your asshole, making your body quiver from the sheer among of pleasure you’re feeling.

The sounds that leave your lips are loud and lewd, bouncing off of the bedroom walls. From beside you, you can hear the sobbing, wet sounds of Kiri licking Mina’s pussy as she moans and whines, her face buried deep into the bed. Katsuki pulls away from your clit momentarily to bark, “Sero, Denki; plug up those other holes of there’s.” 

You weakly look up to find Denki and Sero kneeling in front of you and Mina, looking excited and extremely devilish. “Oooh, I love this part,” Denki happily sighs. “I’ve been wantin’ to fuck their throats all night!”

He settles in front of Mina, forcing her to look up at him by gripping her hair and hoisting her up onto her forearms. He then yanks down his pants with one hand, revealing his hardened cock protruding from a patch of golden, trimmed curls. 

Sero smirks down at you, his hands working his zipper down. “Guess I get you tonight, mami,” he purrs. “No matter. Both of your pretty little throats make me happy either way.”

Then his pants are coming off too, revealing a hard, thick cock jumping against his toned lower stomach, the boubous head bubbling with precum.

“Open up,” he growls and you have no choice but to do so when Katsuki plunges his tongue inside of your pussy, tongue-fucking you without warning. As your mouth opens on a long whine, Sero plunges his cock deep into your mouth. 

“That’s it, mama,” he groans as his thick cock stretches out your mouth. “Take me deep. Don’t be distracted.” You whine around his length, nearly choking it from how deep it goes until you nearly feel it touch the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” Sero growls, his hand moving to the back of your head to wind your braids around his fist. It becomes even harder to focus when he begins fucking your face, his stomach pressing against your nose again and again as he plunges his dick in and out of your mouth, emitting gargled gasps and muffled whines from you. 

While all you smell and taste is Sero, you don’t just feel his thick cock stretching your jaw. The fact that you feel him and Katsuki both fucking your holes makes it so hard to focus on anything. You feel yourself going slack, your limbs growing tired and your jaw aching from Sero repeatedly fucking your throat.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he grunts, the black hairs from his mullet in his face. “You just wanted to get fucked like the sweet lil’ slut you are?” 

You gargle in response and he removes his cock, now dripping in your saliva, from your mouth. You are awarded air then and gulp down as much as you can, coughing. Sero grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Sorry, mama; I couldn’t hear you,” he chuckles. “Now say it again. Let the guys hear you.” 

You can tell without looking that Katsuki, Kiri, and Denki are listening intently to you, waiting for you to say what they already know. Sero squeezes your cheeks together, making it hard to speak, but you manage to do so, your voice soft and weak from your throat being fucked.

“Yes, Papi,” you answer, peering up at Sero through your lashes. “Your baby girl just wanted to get fucked. We both did.”

Mina wines pitifully beside you, proving your statement. 

This makes your boys go completely feral. Sero plugs your mouth back with his cock and fucks it like it’s his last time doing so, Denki following suit with Mina’s throat. Katsuki is having a ball behind you, his hands roughly gripping your ass and his tongue flicking along your clit the way you like.

“Slutty lil’ bimbo, makin’ me so worried for you,” he growls into your cunt, the vibrations filling your core with pleasure. “All just ‘cause you wanted some dick.” His tongue then plunges deep into your pussy, making you whine around Sero’s cock. 

It doesn’t take long for Sero or Denki to cum. You know Sero is close by how hard he starts gripping your hair, nearly yanking the braids out of your scalp. His thrusts are rougher and harder, his abs slamming against your mouth and his heavy balls swinging against your chin. “Gonna cum,” he growls. “Such a good girl takin’ this dick, baby.” 

Denki is a whining, overly dramatic mess. His moans are loud and bounce off the walls as he slams his cock deep into Mina’s throat while Kiri continues to eat her out like she’s his last meal. “Gonna cum!” Denki shouts, his head thrown back in ecstasy. “Gonna cum deep down your slutty throat!”

Mina whines in response as Kiri nibbles lightly on her pussy lips with his sharp teeth, chuckling at her reactions. 

You get no kind of warning when Sero finally floods your mouth with his cum, swearing in Spanish as he does so. There is so much nut that it spills out of your mouth and dribbles down your chin. “Hold it,” he demands as he slips his semi-hard cock out of your mouth. “Lemme see my cum in your mouth, puta.”

You carefully tilt your chin up to hold his cum in your mouth, showing the creamy substance on your tongue. Sero grins down at you proudly. “Good girl,” he coos, pecking your forward. “Now swallow.” 

As soon as Denki and Sero cum in your and Mina’s mouth, you know that you’re deep in for a night of punishment. The rest of the things your men do to you and your girlfriend are one torturous yet pleasurable blur that is only heightened by the weed you smoked and the shots of alcohol you threw back earlier at the club.

Katsuki and Kiri don’t let you or Mina cum, pulling away when you’re just about to burst all over their faces. “Not yet,” Katsuki growls. “You two sluts don't get to cum until we say so.” 

Before you know what’s happening, Sero is repositioning your tired arms up high over your head and laying you down on your back so you’re side by side with Mina. You stare into her inkwell eyes and at her soft, pink lips when you’re both suddenly filled by Katsuki and Kiri at the same time. Kiri and Katsuki switch between you and Mina’s pussies, taking turns filling you and fucking you dumb into the mattress. 

Kiri is more loving and slow with his strokes but still all the more merciless. He slings your leg over his broad shoulder and kisses your foot while his cock fills you, stroking the wet, gummy walls of your pussy. “So good,” he groans, his face as red as his hair. “You feel so good around me, baby girl. Keep grippin’ me just like that.”

More praise and sweet nothings leave his lips as he pummels you as hard as you want, relishing the broken moans and whines that leave your lips. 

Meanwhile, Katsuki is rough, wild, and feral. He fucks you into the bed in a mating press position, his feet on the bed and his dick pummeling into your pussy over and over again. Squelching sounds emit from down below as your juices and flavored lube slip down your asscrack to the bed, making your walls even slipperier and causing Katsuki to have an easier time fucking you silly.

His large hand grips your throat and his nose touches yours, making the sex even more intense with him so close. “You like that, slut?” he snarls in your face. “You like me fucking you dumb?”

All you can do is whine in response. Words are meaningless at this point. Katsuki forces you to open your mouth and spits in it in response before swirling his tongue with yours, tasting himself.

While Sero sits against the headboard, lazily stroking his cock to the sights and sounds of his girls, Denki gets right in the mix. His sneaky fingers tweak and tug on your nipples and play with your clit while Kiri and Katsuki continue to plunge deep into your squelching, sobbing, wet pussies over and over again. Every single touch from Denki is twinged with a zap of electricity that sends you farther over the edge, trying to balance that pain and pleasure. 

You don’t even realize that you’re drooling until Denki points it out. “Awww, she’s drooling!” he cackles. He leans in close to you despite Katsuki still pounding you into the bed.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip to catch your saliva and he sucks on his thumb, humming at the taste of you. “Is Bakugou fucking you dumb, slutty girl, hm?” he teasingly asks. "Or am I just fryin’ that pretty brain of yours?”

You whine weakly in response, too distracted by Katsuki’s delicious cock bullying your insides. 

When Katsuki finally cums inside of you, it’s messy and big. He cums with an uncharacteristic, almost animalistic roar as he spills his nut deep inside of your cunt, his hand still pinning you to the bed. Kiri cums too, a loud moan of Mina’s name leaving his lips as he nuts deep inside of her tight walls. You girls take every ounce of their cum, just as you do when they flip you back over onto your hands and knees.

They don’t allow you to recover or rest. “Sluts don't get to rest,” Katsuki tells you, a dark chuckle in his voice. “They only get what they deserve. And you two bimbos deserve to be fucked until your pussies are mush.” 

And he sticks to his word. Each one of them do. When you and Mina are flipped back onto your hands and knees, your men plug up your pretty, wet holes again. Katsuki and Kiri fuck your throats while Denki and Sero kneel behind you, plunging their cocks deep inside of your pussies to fuck you doggystyle.

You get Denki this time and shit, are you in for it. The man makes sure you fuck you stupid, his foot on the bed and hands grappling your tits to zap your poor little nipples. He even dips under your thighs to rub your clit, his fingertips pulsing with electricity. It has you whimpering and shivering as the short currents of electricity course through you. 

When he finally cums inside of you, you’re just about done and filled to the brim, but then Kiri takes you. He has you lay down on your stomach and fucks you prone bone style. “Don't do anything, baby,” he coos as his cock strokes your sensitive, gushy walls. “Just lemme do all the work, m’kay? Be a good girl and take me.” 

And you do. You don’t have much of a choice. You can only lie there and let Kiri fuck your body like his own personal fleshlight, his thick cock sliding against your G-spot. Your body is tired and your pussy is screaming for release, but Kiri doesn’t let you cum.

Neither of them let Mina cum either. She is spread out against the headboard, Denki’s face in her pussy while Katsuki and Sero have their cocks in her face, taking turns sliding them in and out of her wet mouth. 

When Kiri cums, it is just as messy and explosive as Katsuki’s nut is. He grips your hips and pins you down to the bed as his big body tenses above you, pleasure coursing through his veins.

“Fuck!” he whines, the sound nearly pushing you over the edge. “Such a good girl!” And like a good girl, you take every ounce of his cum pumping inside of you, groaning softly as you feel it slide down your thighs. 

“Goddammit, please, Daddies!” Mina sobs. “Please just let us cum!” She is only met with callused laughter from the guys, humored at her pain. “You cum when we say so,” Katsuki growls. “Now shut the fuck up and get on your fuckin’ knees for us so you can have your treat.” 

Mina does as she is told, sliding onto her knees on the bed in front of you. You barely know what’s happening, too exhausted and dazed to realize it. When you suddenly feel Mina’s tongue sliding against your cum-covered, fucked-silly pussy, her hands prying your legs apart, your soul just about leaves your body.

“N-No,” you weakly protest. “No, please…t-too much! Please, Daddies, stop!” 

Your sobs and pleas of mercy fall on deaf ears as Katsuki, Kiri, and Sero surround you once more, their hard cocks and gorgeous bodies in your face.

Denki situates himself behind Mina and slides inside of her as she eats you out. He doesn’t take his time or let her adjust first before fucking deep into her, his stomach slamming against her ass and his fingers tweaking her nipples, emitting screams and wails from her as she greedily eats your cunt. 

“Shut up and open your mouth,” Katsuki cooly says. “Or you don’t cum at all tonight. Believe me, baby: you know we’ll do it.”

That threat is worse than death to you at this point, so you open your mouth and let the trio fuck your throat raw and yank on your braids. They start to morph into one the more you endure, each cock becoming more of the same one. You’re losing it, the combination of pain and pleasure fogging your brain and making reality nothing more than an illusion. 

“Such a good little toy for us,” Kiri coos, watching you take Katsuki’s cock with awe, his hand pumping his own in time with his boyfriend’s thrusts. Sero does the same, stroking his dick right next to your face.

“Does our little girl wanna cum?” he teases. “You wanna cum all over Mina’s face while she creams on Denki’s dick?” 

You lazily nod with tears pricking your eyes despite Katsuki’s cock in your throat while Mina eagerly moans in agreement, her tongue slashing your clit again and again. You can feel your body getting closer to that release. You don’t know what you’ll do if they deny your release again.

Fortunately, that doesn’t happen. To your shock and relief, Katsuki pulls his cock out of your mouth and pumps it right in your face, his hand working himself furiously. “Cum for us, slut,” he demands. “Both of you. Do it now before I change my mind.” 

‘Finally,’ you think. You sob in delirious happiness while Mina babbles grateful thanks into your cunt. “Thank you, daddies!” she whines as Denki fucks her harder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You swear that when you cum, it’s an out-of-body experience. Your soul practically leaves you and sees heaven when the pleasure washes over you, plunging you into a sea of bliss. Your orgasm rips through you at the same time as Mina, your moans and screams of release filling the bedroom. 

When you burst all over Mina’s face, she eagerly and hungrily cleans you up, sucking on your inner thighs and sliding her tongue down your asscrack to catch the rest of your cum. When she picks up her head to stare at you from between your thighs, her mouth is coated in your juices, making her lips shine with you.

“God, that’s so hot!” Denki pitifully whines. “I’m gonna cum so hard!” 

“Not inside of her, Denks,” Kiri warns, his teeth gritted as his orgasm begins to rise. “Do it on her face. Come over here and help us coat their pretty faces.”

Denki doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides out of Mina and practically tosses her beside you, forcing your faces to tilt up at them. 

Just as they like, you stick your tongues out and keep your eyes on them and their cocks, hypnotized at how fast their hands pump their cocks. Just for their girls. Their grunts and moans fill the air, making your sensitive pussies throb despite just cumming, signaling that they’re close.

“This is what you get,” Katsuki grunts. “This is what you get for bein’ brats.” 

You and Mina get the point when your men finally cum all over you. You get no warning, but even if you did, you would still be surprised at how much there is.

Their cum is explosive and messy, coating your faces, lips, tits, and even sliding down your stomaches. Cries and growls of unison fill the air as their nut splashes all over your skin, coating you in their scent and making a very clear statement: ‘You’re ours.’

A delirious laugh bubbles from deep in your chest when their warm cum splashes all over you, the intensity of tonight finally ebbing. 

Finally free from the constraints of edge play, you and Mina fall back onto the mattress side by side, exhausted, spent, and still covered in cum. The boys recover above you, breathing raggedly and coated in sweat.

“Well,” Sero huffs, “that was something.” Denki laughs from beside him. “I’ll say!” 

Kiri tilts his head up to the ceiling, his muscles glistening in perspiration. “I think we’re all in need of a hot bath,” he sighs. “Anybody in for a dip in our whirlpool tub for the night?”

The guys hum in agreement. Though you want to agree too, all you can let out is a tiny, weak moan. 

“We’re all takin’ a bath,” Katsuki gruffly states, “but before that, I need an answer." You suddenly feel him hover over you, his crimson eyes glaring at you and Mina.

“So are you gonna pull that shit again with us?” he asks, his voice dangerously low and daring you to fuck with him. 

You and Mina stare at each other, exhaustion written all over your sticky faces. You each turn back to your boyfriends sitting above you and shake your heads. “No, Daddies,” you obediently reply. “We promise we won’t.” 

The boys grin proudly and each press a wet kiss to your lips in appreciation for your obedience.

But even they know that’s a damn lie, and they look forward to the next time they’ll get to teach you and Mina a lesson. 

THE END.

You bury your face into his pillow, inhaling deeply—or trying to. His scent, that intoxicating mix of sandalwood and blunt smoke, has faded to a ghost of what it once was. Three months without him sleeping beside you, without his deep voice grumbling nonsense in your ear as he pulls you closer. The emptiness is heavy. 

Your massive pitbull, Bear, stretches across the bed like a living shadow, his muscular frame pressed against your thigh as if sensing your longing. 

You run your fingers through his coarse fur, murmuring, “You ready for Papa to come home?” 

Bear’s ears twitch at the mention of him, dark eyes flickering with something like understanding. Even the house feels quieter without his presence—no bass rattling the windows, no deep laugh shaking the walls, no rough hands tugging you into his lap just because.  

Onyankopon. 

Deep brown skin kissed by the Louisiana sun, glowing like polished syrup under the streetlights. His cornrows are always fresh, laid to perfection, trailing down to the nape of his neck with a crisp lineup sharp enough to cut glass. That mouth of his—shiny grills flashing when he smirks, a warning disguised as charm. His beard-goatee combo is always kept tight, framing full lips that can curse a man into the ground or praise you so sweetly it makes your knees weak.  

And his body. Lord. Broad shoulders, thick arms wrapped in ink—every tattoo telling a story. The fleur-de-lis stamped near his left temple, a silent declaration of loyalty to the soil that raised him. More Louisiana love etched into his skin— oak trees, 504 in bold script. His knuckles say NO LOVE, but you know better—know the way those same hands cradle your face like you’re the air he breathes.  

You’ve seen him in business mode. Jaw clenched, voice dropping to something low and lethal, a Glock tucked in the back of his waistband like a second shadow. He didn’t play—not when it came to money, not when it came to respect.

But you know the truth.  

That same man who’ll put a bullet in somebody’s kneecaps over disrespect is the one slipping Mrs.LeBlanc a stack of bills every month so her lights stay on—the one who refuses to sell to fiends nodding out on the corner. The one who bought the whole block Thanksgiving turkeys last year just because.  

A good man with rough edges. Yours.

Your heart aches with the knowing—the kind that lives in the quiet spaces between his laughter and the way his eyes get distant sometimes, staring out at the horizon like he’s searching for something just out of reach.  

You’ve seen the flicker in his gaze when y’all pass a college campus, when he watches old men playing chess in the park with no worries weighing them down. You know he dreams of something else—legitimate money, a life where he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder every five seconds. But survival mode is a beast he can’t shake, not when the streets raised him harsher than any parent ever did.  

Your mind flashes back to that night—the night. 

The way his face twisted in fury as the cops swarmed, their boots kicking up gravel as they yanked his arms behind his back too rough, too eager. You remember screaming his name, lunging forward only for his voice to cut through the chaos like a blade—Go back in the fuckin’ house!—and the way your legs shook as you obeyed, tears blurring your vision until all you saw were flashing red and blue lights swallowing him whole.  

Three months.  

Three months of letters tucked into envelopes smelling like your perfume, of collect calls where his voice was gruff but his words were soft—“How you holdin’ up, baby?" 

Three months of praying the charges wouldn’t stick, of begging your parents to understand why you couldn’t—wouldn’t—walk away.  

You think God would approve of this, child? Running with a man who feeds poison to his own people? 

Their words stung, but not as much as the truth burning in your chest—you loved him anyway. Loved him when he came home smelling like gunpowder and regret, loved him when he held you so tight it felt like an apology.  

But still, there’s a part of you that dreams too—of lazy Sunday mornings without fear, of a future where his hands are stained with paint instead of blood. A future where he chooses differently.  

You sigh, pressing your face into Bear’s fur as if he can absorb the weight of your thoughts.  

Soon.

Your dark curls lay across the pillow like spilled ink as you sink deeper into Bear’s warmth, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips lulling you into a false sense of calm.  

Then—movement. 

Bear tenses beneath you, his massive body going rigid before he suddenly hikes up with a deep, rumbling growl—not the dangerous kind, but the kind that vibrates with recognition. In an instant, he’s off the bed, paws thudding against hardwood as he bolts toward the living room.  

Then—the creak of the front door. 

You left it unlocked. You knew.  

Before you can even sit up fully, you hear Bear’s excited whines, the frantic scratch of his claws against the floor as he launches himself at someone—at him. Your pulse thunders in your ears as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet hitting the floor before you even realize you’re moving.  

And there he is. 

Standing in the doorway like a storm, shoulders bigger than you remember, muscles straining against the thin fabric of his white muscle tee like he outgrew it in just three months. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, the same pair he’d left in before they took him, but now they cling to thighs that look harder, more defined.  

His cornrows are freshly done, edges sharp enough to draw blood, that damn fleur-de-lis tattoo peeking out from beneath the slant of his brow. But it’s his eyes that grip you—dark, calculating, hungry—as they rake over you like he’s memorizing every inch.  

“The fuck you leave the door unlocked for?” 

Your lips part—but the second his voice hits you, really hits you, something inside cracks wide open.  

“…I—I knew it was you,” you whimper, voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

Onyankopon knows you.

‘Knows the way your bottom lip trembles right before the tears fall. ‘Knows how your voice gets small and shaky when you’re trying—and failing—to hold it together. ‘Knows that no matter how spicy your mouth gets, that tender heart of yours spills over first.  

And right now?  

His dark eyes drink you in all of you.  

Your caramel skin glows under the dim lights, bare except for the tiniest rebellion inked along your ribs—his name, etched in delicate script, hidden beneath the swell of your tits like a secret only he’s allowed to touch.  

Those freckles—god, those freckles—dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose like constellations. Your round face flushed, slender eyes shimmering with tears, long dark curls tumbling wildly over your shoulders as you try to hide the way your body shakes.  

Hips fuller, ass heavier, waist somehow even smaller than he remembered, all wrapped up in that deep plum babydoll dress that barely covers your thighs. His gaze drags lower—no bra, just the thin lace of your panties peeking beneath the hem, your brown nipples stiff and visible through the fabric.  

And then—  

“You left me.” 

Your tits bounce heavily as you hiccup, hands flying up to cover your face in that adorably flustered way you do when you’re overwhelmed. 

“Aight, Mama—lemme’ hold you," he murmurs, voice thick with that gravelly warmth that usually melts you right where you stand. But not today.  

You shake your head hard, curls whipping against your cheeks, suddenly furious—at him, at the streets, at the damn system that keeps snatching him away from you. 

“No," you snap, voice wobbling despite yourself.  

This is your routine.  

The one where you unleash every pent up ache—where you sob about how Mrs. LeBlanc asked about him at the store last Tuesday, how you burned the first pot of gumbo because he wasn’t there to taste test it, how Bear whined at the door every night for a week after they took him.  

“You missed—you missed everything—"

Onyankopon exhales through his nose, patience wearing thin. He reaches for you again, fingers brushing your waist, but you smack his hand away—or try to. Your tiny slap barely fazes him, and the way his jaw tightens tells you his sympathy’s run out.  

One large hand fists into the back of your dress, yanking you against him so hard your breath whooshes out of you. His other arm bands around your waist, locking you in place as your tits press flush against his chest.  

“Ony—!" 

“Nah," he growls, “You done?" 

And just like that—you crack. 

Your fingers claw into his shirt as you bury your face into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent—jailhouse soap, and him. A choked sob escapes you as he grunts, adjusting his grip to cradle you tighter.  

“Yeah," he mutters, lips brushing your temple—“That’s what I thought.”

His nose drags along the curve of your neck—inhaling deep—like he’s trying to drown himself in you. Vanilla. Spiced cinnamon. Caramel. Your scent clings to his senses, and a rough groan vibrates against your skin before he cups your face in his big, calloused hands.  

Then—his mouth crashes into yours.  

Not soft. Not sweet.  

Claiming.

His tongue strokes against yours, hot and demanding, before he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth—sharp, just how you like it. The sound of his grunts fills the space between kisses—“Goddamn, you smell so good—” his palm smacks against your ass with a sharp CLAP!, making the flesh quiver beneath his grip as he kneads it possessively.  

“Why you doin’ allat’, huh?” His voice is gruff but softer now, forehead pressed to yours—“A nigga was gon’ find his way back to you.”

“Your lawyer said…” your voice cracks, fingers tightening in his shirt—“‘Said they coulda’ gave you more time…”

His jaw ticks—once, twice—before he exhales hard through his nose.  

“Look at me.” 

When you do, his eyes burn with something fierce.  

“Ain’t no cage gon’ keep me from you.” 

And just like that—his mouth is on yours again, swallowing your whimpers, his grip tightening like he’s determined to erase every second of those three months apart.

Your whimper melts into something hotter, needier—tongue sliding bold and filthy against his, dragging slowly before plunging back in, tasting the mint on his breath mixed with something darker, smokier. Onyankopon growls against your lips, tongue stroking yours with a rhythm that makes your thighs clench.  

“Greedy ass," he rumbles, voice thick with amusement—"Threw that lil’ tongue at me like you ain’t just been cryin’." 

“‘Want you, Papa…" you pant this, rocking your hips against the hard ridge of him, shameless.  

His hands tighten on your face—rough but reverent—as he pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze burning through you. 

“Three months, baby. Three months ‘I been dreamin’ ‘bout my pussy," he grits out—“But nah, we gon’ do this right." 

Your brows knit—confused, frustrated—until his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, smug as hell.  

“A nigga got a whole garden in the Hummer for you," he admits lowly, "Tulips, roses, shit you like—whole backseat covered."

That freckled smile of yours spreads slowly across your face, until you realize something. 

“Wait—you got your car back?"

His smirk doesn’t falter, but something shifts behind his gaze—hooded, calculated. 

“Handled it." 

You blink once. Twice. Then deadpan, “I won’t even ask." 

“You already knowin’," he chuckles, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip one last time like he’s erasing the question altogether.  

“Go ‘head, start gettin’ yo’self pretty. Imma’ run some plays by these niggas, handle some business ‘fore we head out."

Your stomach knots. Already? 

Three months gone, and the streets demand his presence before the sheets even lose your warmth. You bite your protest back regardless, swallowing it down with a soft “Okay," that barely fills the space between you.  

Onyankopon studies you for half a breath—like he sees it, the tension in your jaw—before gruffly adding, “Aight? I’m happy to be home." 

And just like that he’s turning away, crouching to ruffle Bear’s ears as the dog practically vibrates with joy. You watch them—the way his tattooed hands roughhouse with the beast who missed him just as much as you did—and exhale.  

“Yeah," you murmur, touching the heart pendant at your throat. 

“…Me too."

The afternoon light slants through sheer curtains as the scene shifts to another familiar rhythm—Onyankopon planted on the bedroom bench like a king holding court. His muscular thighs spread wide, fresh out of the shower but already dressed in that effortless urban elegance—crisp black tee straining across his chest, black Amiri cargos, icy AP watch glinting at his wrist. Cuban links drip down his neck as he barks into his phone, voice sandpaper rough—“Nah, that product ‘move different now. ‘Tell them lil’ niggas to tighten up or get got." 

Meanwhile, you exist in your own world mere feet away—naked as the day you were born, lost in the ritual of getting ready.  

Your reflection in the vanity mirror is sinful—that waist cutting in like an hourglass before flaring out into heavy hips and that ass he can’t stop smacking. Oversized tits sway as you lean forward to dab blush over freckled cheeks, brown nipples stiff from the breeze drifting through the window. Between your thighs—pretty pink folds glistening with arousal, still tender from the thought of him earlier. 

You’re so engrossed in blending highlighter along your collarbones that you don’t notice his approach—until thick fingers suddenly part you from behind.  

“Papa—!” 

Your giggle bubbles up as his calloused thumb swipes through slick heat, inspecting you with a low hum of approval.  

"Fuck you laughin’ for?" he grunts, still half distracted by his phone conversation—“‘Just checkin’ my property."  

The juxtaposition is ridiculous—him murmuring “Two keys max,” into the receiver while his other hand teases your clit—until you slap his wrist away, cheeks burning.  

"Stop it!” 

“‘You the one bent over lookin’ like dessert." 

Sigh. Business and pleasure, always intertwined.

Now fully dressed, you feel every bit the masterpiece you’ve crafted—your curls styled in a voluminous flip over cascading like spilled ink down your back. Dark, feathery lashes make your almond shaped eyes look bigger, doe like, while deep brown lips—blended with a hint of plum—give your mouth a sultry, kissable pout.  

The outfit is pure temptation—tall, strappy heels that add inches to your shorter frame, black capris clinging to every curve of your full hips and round ass like they were painted on. The lace trimmed camisole is sinful, its sweetheart neckline framing the swell of your breasts, the sheer fabric teasing glimpses of skin beneath. Your small Coach purse twinkles with playful keychains dangling from it, a hint of softness against the fierce femininity of your look.  

You do a slow, deliberate spin for him—hips swaying, lashes fluttering—before rolling your eyes dramatically when he barely glances up, his big hand absently rubbing the side of your hip as he continues growling into the phone, “Nah, lil’ bruh, that’s not how we move.” 

Frustration flickers.  

With a huff, you drop onto his lap without warning, your weight forcing his thighs to adjust beneath you. His free arm instinctively wraps around your waist as you play with the coarse strands of his beard, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw while he keeps talking.  

You murmur against his ear, “I got all pretty for you, y’know.” 

 “Aight, Imma’ see you in twenty.”

You blink. 

“Twenty minutes? Where?" 

“Across the Westbank," he replies smoothly, fingers trailing up the curve of your thigh where the capris hug tightest—“‘Told you I had business to handle." 

Your arms cross over your chest,  “This was supposed to be our time." 

“Youn’ think I know that? I got shit to do." 

“Yeah, ‘cause a drug dealer has way less free time than the average working man."

The words hang in the air—sharp, but edged with truth. His brows lift, a silent challenge, and you bite your lip before melting back against him with a soft “Sorry…” 

Your voice dropped to a whisper, “I just want you to myself today."

Onyankopon exhales through his nose, the tension in his shoulders loosening as his hands slide up your back. 

“You got me," he murmurs, lips brushing the slope of your bare shoulder. 

“But I got a whole neighborhood to take care of—including buyin’ everythin’ yo’ greedy lil’ ass wanna see under the sun." 

His mouth trails up your neck, each kiss a quiet apology, a silent promise. You sigh, tilting your head to give him more access, your resolve crumbling beneath his touch.  

“Fine," you concede, “But hurry, please?” 

“Ain’t gon’ be long enough for you to miss me." 

And just like that, he had you under his spell.

The first time you rode shotgun on one of his business runs, your pulse had thrummed with something illicit—the thrill of danger, the heat of rebellion licking at your skin like a forbidden flame. Back then, watching him command respect with just the tilt of his chin felt electric, his dominance a live wire beneath your fingertips.  

Now?  

Now you slump in the passenger seat of his freshly detailed Hummer, fingers drumming against the leather as you stare determinedly out the window. His employees—lean, hungry looking young men with eyes too old for their faces—nod at you with careful respect, like you’re some kind of queen they’re afraid to glance at too long. You offer weak smiles in return, teeth digging into your plum stained bottom lip.  

Onyankopon moves like a storm—methodical, unhurried—handing off product wrapped in crisp bills, exchanging terse words with buyers who swear they can handle weight they clearly can’t. Every so often his palm lands heavy on your thigh—reassuring, possessive—but your skin feels too tight today.  

Your gaze flicks to the Glock tucked between his seat and the console, the .45 holstered at his ankle, the AR barely hidden beneath the flower blankets in the back. The arsenal used to make you feel safe. Now it just makes your stomach twist.  

“Can we go?" 

He pauses mid sentence, dark eyes cutting to you—reading the tension in your jaw, the way your fingers twist the rings on your hands.  

“Five minutes," he grunts. 

Onyankopon’s jaw ticks as he leans out the driver’s side window, his deep voice dropping to a lethal calm—  

“Nigga, you movin’ like you want problems.” 

The young boy couldn’t be older than nineteen—puffs his chest out, fingers twitching near his waistband like he’s itching to prove something. 

“I ain’t scared—” 

“That’s yo’ first fuckin’ problem.” 

Before the kid can retort, Onyankopon shoves the car door open and steps out, looming over him like a shadow. Even from the passenger seat, you can see the moment the boy realizes his mistake—how his shoulders tense, how his eyes dart sideways for backup that ain’t coming.  

“You gon’ get smoked actin’ like this,” Onyankopon growls, jabbing a finger into the boy’s chest—“Get yo’ shit together ‘fore I help you.” 

“Aight, Onyo’. Damn. My bad—” 

“Get the fuck on.” 

He dismisses him before sliding back into the driver’s seat, his energy crackling like live wire. You don’t say a word—just shift in your seat, crossing your legs tight, lips pressed together.  

The engine roars as he peels off, tires biting pavement. At the first red light, his hand cups the back of your neck, dragging you into a kiss so filthy your toes curl in your heels.  

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, “Appreciate you holdin’ me down.” 

You nod, still quiet, but your fingers tighten on his wrist—Where are we going? 

“Yo’ lil’ candy ass arcade on Canal.” 

Your frown melts instantly—the one with the vintage Pac-Man machine and strawberry mochi. A grin tugs at your lips despite yourself.  

“…’Kay.” 

Once again? Under his spell.

The neon glow of Canal Street buzzed around you as you stepped into the old-timey arcade, its retro facade hiding a freshly renovated interior that smelled faintly of buttered popcorn and digital nostalgia. The weekend crowd pulsed around you—laughing teenagers, couples locked in competitive banter, families chasing kids hyped up on sugar—all seeking the same escape from reality. Your fingers tightened around Onyankopon’s large hand as you tugged him inside, watching his sharp gaze flick over the space—new LED lights where flickering fluorescents once hung, sleek game consoles replacing the creaky ones he remembered.  

“Ain’t been gone that long,” he muttered, but there was no real irritation in it, just the low rumble of a man recalibrating.  

“Three months can feel like a sentence, Papa.” 

He thinks on your words for a moment. 

“‘C’mon, then. I’m tryna put ‘belt to ass in Mortal Kombat.”  

“In your dreams!” 

You darted away with a giggle, weaving through the crowd as his deep chuckle chased you. The sound was rare enough to make your chest ache—he was letting his guard down.

And when he did?  

It was like the sun breaking through a storm.  

At the game station, he was ferocious—button mashing with the precision of a man who took everything seriously, even play. His victorious howls shook your ribs where you stood pressed against him, his arm slung around your waist as he crowed about flawless victories. But then—your turn. His competitive edge melted into something softer, his hands guiding yours over the controls when you pouted about losing. 

“Like this, mama—time it right.”

 It was a quiet parallel to his life—his instinct to protect, to guide, even in something as trivial as a game.  

Later at a secluded lounge area tucked in the back of the arcade, you both shared strawberry mochi and sweet wine. The other couples around you laughed easily—holding hands, stealing kisses without glancing over their shoulders first. Your fingers traced the rim of your glass as the thought settled heavy—Did they have regular lives? Were they happier?

Onyankopon’s voice cut through the haze.  

“You been thinkin’ on somethin’ since we left the house." 

His voice is low, steady—a statement, not a question.  

“Hm?” 

“Hm?” he repeats, “Yeah, you."

You swirl the sweet wine in your glass, avoiding his gaze for just a beat too long before answering, “I’m just happy to have you home." 

He leans back in his chair, arms folding across his broad chest. 

“‘You want me to believe that?” 

“That’s what I’m telling you.” 

A beat passes. Then another. His expression doesn’t change—just that same quiet intensity, like he’s reading every flicker of hesitation in your body language.  

He stands, the chair scraping against the floor.  

“We gon’ talk over dinner," he confirms, “It’s aight." 

And just like that, the conversation is postponed—but not forgotten. You exhale softly, nodding as you rise to grab his hand, the unspoken weight of your thoughts lingering between you like an extra shadow.

The restaurant hums with the soul of New Orleans—exposed brick walls draped in vintage jazz posters, flickering candlelight glinting off brass fixtures, the rich scent of gumbo and buttery cornbread hanging thick in the air. Live piano notes drift from the corner, smooth and lazy like the Mississippi at dusk.  

You sit across from him, legs crossed just so, your lace camisole dipping to frame the heavy swell of your breasts. Small dimples flash as you press your lips together, watching him watch you with that quiet, unnerving focus of his—like he’s peeling back every layer you’ve carefully stacked since this morning.  

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you murmur, fingers tracing the rim of your water glass.  

His response is a low rumble—“Ain’t gotta thank me for doin’ shit a nigga supposed to do." 

Silence stretches between you. You know that look—chin tilted down, thick brows slightly furrowed—he’s turning something over in his mind.  

Then, out of nowhere—“How yo’ mama doin’?" 

You smile, soft and genuine. 

“Still prayin’ for you."

His lips quirk—“‘Wouldn’t want it any other way. She give a nigga ‘travelin’ grace." 

You tug a curl behind your ear, exhaling softly.  

“Well…" You reach for your purse, heart skipping—“I got you somethin’."

Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull out the blue velvet box—small, unassuming, but holding all the hope you've tucked away.  

His lips quirk before he even opens it, that deep voice laced with mischief—“Lemme’ guess—is it you, butt ass naked on top of a second Hummer? ‘Cause I was already plannin’ on makin’ that happen." 

You roll your eyes, “No, boy." 

He flips the lid open, thick fingers pausing as he pulls out the sleek, leather bound planner—matte black with silver detailing, masculine but refined. The attached pen glints under the soft restaurant lighting.  

“i got you a planner!" you squeak, suddenly nervous.  

His brow arches, thumb tracing the edge of the booklet before he meets your eyes—“That’s sweet, baby. But why?" 

You fidget, twisting a curl around your finger—“Well…I thought maybe it could be a new bonding experience for us?"

Your voice is softer now—"You know…we could journal on Sundays during online sermons, make grocery lists, plan things together…" 

Your next words come out in a rush—“I thought…maybe even show your parole officer that you do want more in life, you know?"  

The air between you shifts.  

His expression hardens, “Youn’ think I want more in life?" 

"I didn’t mean it like that, I just—" 

“So what you sayin’?" 

His voice is calm, but there’s an edge beneath it—the kind that makes your pulse stutter. You swallow, choosing your next words carefully.  

"I just…want you to try something new, On’." 

Your gaze lifts, meeting his—“There are these moments where you talk about your future—goin’ to trade school, gettin’ off the streets, somethin’…practical. You’re just too smart for that to go to waste." 

A beat passes. Then his lips curl—not quite a smile—“You think bein’ pragmatic gon’ pay the bills?" 

"Ony—" 

“Niggas out here with degrees still hustlin’ backwards. You think a planner gon’ change the fact that this city don’t give a fuck about no trade school paperwork?"

His voice drops low, gravel rough with conviction—“I got half a fuckin’ city to feed, ion’ do this shit ‘cause I like tellin’ niggas what to do. The side of town we stay on? You still there ‘cause you refuse to leave yo’ family, and I respect that."

 His jaw flexes, thumb brushing over the planner still in his hand—“But I should get the same in return." 

He’s right. He’s always talked about putting you up somewhere better—somewhere with gates and quiet streets, or even leaving New Orleans altogether—but he’s never pushed you. Never made you choose when you never agreed to that. 

And now here you are, handing him a planner like it’s an ultimatum, like paper could fix the jagged edges of the life he’s built.  

You blink hard, swallowing the lump forming—“I’m sorry…” 

Fingers trembling, you reach to take the planner back, but his hand closes gently over yours before you can.  

“Don’t do allat’," he murmurs, voice softer now. The planner stays in his grip—not rejected, not dismissed—just held. 

“‘This the shit that’s been weighin’ on yo’ heart all day?” 

The question hangs between you, raw and exposed. 

“…I talked to your parole officer,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper—““Before your release.” 

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t interrupt.  

“He said if you get caught again…it’s twenty-five to life, Onyankopon. No parole.” 

A single tear escapes before you can stop it, sliding hot down your cheek. You swipe at it fast, but the damage is done—your face is warm, your lips trembling as you whisper, “I can’t lose you again.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

His voice is gruff, thick with something that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t promise miracles. Doesn’t swear he’ll change overnight. But the look in his eyes—the vow in them—says more than words ever could.  

“You have to be here, y’know?” 

His thumb swipes under your eye, rough but tender.  

“I’m knowin’, baby.” 

But you can’t stop now—the words spill out like a confession, shaky and raw—  

“When we have our first lil’ Papa…when we get married…when you finally graduate…” 

Your breath hitches, lips quivering as you grip his wrist, needing him to hear this, to feel it like you do.  

“You can’t leave me like that again.”

The words break on the last syllable, “You just can’t.” 

That’s all it takes.  

In one swift movement, he’s out of his seat, leaning across the table, his big hands cradling your face—not gentle, not this time—commanding your attention.  

“Stop that fuckin’ cryin’,” he growls, “I’m never leavin’ you again.” 

You whimper—half protest, half relief—but before you can speak, his mouth crashes into yours, stealing your breath along with the last of your tears. It’s not a sweet kiss—it’s desperate, possessive, a promise sealed in salt and heat.  

The waitress approaches with a tray piled high with steaming Creole dishes—crispy fried catfish, creamy shrimp étouffée, golden cornbread muffins—but freezes mid step when she catches sight of you two, your faces still inches apart. 

Her voice squeaks out, “I’ll—uh—‘come back!” 

Onyankopon doesn’t even flinch, just leans back slightly, his deep voice smooth as molasses—“Nah, you good, love. We ain’t mean to stop what you gotta do.” 

You quickly wipe your face with the back of your hand, giggling apologetically at her, your earlier tears replaced by a warm, flustered grin. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you murmur as she carefully sets the plates down.  

“Is there anything else y’all need?” she asks, glancing between you two like she’s half-expecting another emotional hurricane.  

Onyankopon settles into his seat, stretching his long legs out before casually dropping the bomb—“Can you box her up as a to-go entrée?” 

Your mouth falls open before you snatch a fry off his plate and flick it at him. He catches it between his teeth, smirk victorious as he chews.  

“Damn. Nevermind then,” he murmurs, low and playful, making the waitress bite back a laugh before she scurries off.  

The rest of the night feels good—normal in a way that makes your chest ache with gratitude. Before leaving, you drag him into the restaurant’s vintage black and white photo booth, cramming yourselves into the tiny space. He grumbles “This shit for teenagers,” but still lets you pose him—gruff, sexy glares mixed with moments where he suddenly pulls you in, his lips at your neck, his hands possessive on your hips while the flash captures it all.  

And when you climb back into the Hummer later, the LED lights inside now glow a soft violet—you can’t help but watch him with quiet fascination.  

He’s on the phone with one of his men, voice a low, authoritative rumble—“Nah, don’t move ‘til I say so”—while his free hand rolls a blunt with effortless precision, his thick fingers crimping the paper just right.

The Hummer idles softly outside your apartment building, the engine a quiet purr beneath the hum of the city at night. The LED glow from the dashboard paints his sharp features in an otherworldly hue—high cheekbones catching the light, the flicker of his chains as he moves.  

You sit curled in the passenger seat, cradling the bouquet of flowers he’d surprised you with earlier—roses, peonies, all lush and fragrant. You press your nose into the petals, inhaling deeply as your lashes flutter shut for just a second. Sweet. Just like him when he wanted to be.  

Across from you, Onyankopon flicks his lighter—the flame casting brief, dancing shadows across his deep brown skin, his tattoos momentarily illuminated like ancient script. He takes a long pull from the blunt, smoke curling from his nostrils in smooth, practiced streams.  

“Non, fais pas ça—Nah, don’t do that. Li pa bon pou biznis.” 

You watch as he takes another hit, the ember glowing bright before he exhales again, smoke filling the space between you.  

“Mwen pral rele ou pli ta,” he murmurs into the phone before ending the call.  

Silence settles, but it’s comfortable—heavy with the scent of weed and flowers, the quiet understanding between you two thicker than the smoke.  

You reach over, brushing a thumb over his knuckles.  

“Teach me,” you murmur.  

He arches a brow.  

“Creole?” 

You nod. 

His lips curl into that half smirk that always makes your stomach flutter as he nudges the blunt between his fingers and murmurs, "Say ‘Mwen renmen w’." 

I love you. 

You bite your lip to suppress the grin threatening to take over your face—you know what it means—but you play along anyway, voice lilting sweetly, “Mwen renmen w." 

His eyes darken, the low purple light catching the flecks of gold in them as he exhales smoke and leans closer, rough palm cradling your jaw. 

“I love you so much fuckin’ more, girl." 

You only took two hits, but it’s enough—your body melts against his side, pliant and warm, your cheek pressing into the firm curve of his shoulder as he scrolls through his phone with one hand, the other absently tracing circles on your thigh.  

Messages light up the screen—coordinates, confirmations, the usual—but you’re too busy nuzzling into the scruff along his jaw, breathing in the mix of his cologne and weed. You press a feather light kiss there, right where his beard meets his cheekbone.  

“Thank you, mama," he murmurs, voice gravel rough but tender.  

You go in for another, but this time he turns his head just enough to meet you halfway—a quick peck at first, teasing. But when you chase his lips, he hums low in his throat and suddenly it’s not quick anymore.  

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, demanding entry, and you part for him with a breathy sigh. The kiss deepens—slow, filthy, calculated—until you’re squirming in your seat, your fingers tangled in his chains.  

“Aight," he growls against your mouth, one hand already on the door handle—“"We takin’ this shit upstairs."

The kiss is molten, unhurried but heavy with intent—your foreheads bump together, lips slanting clumsily as you whimper into his mouth, needier than usual. Your heel slides up over the center console, legs spreading just enough in that shy, wordless way of yours—can’t wait, don’t make me wait. 

Then—there—the rough pad of his middle finger swiping over your clothed folds, and fuck, the fabric is already damp, sticking to your skin. Your tongue stutters against his, a broken huff catching in your throat as your head falls back against the seat.  

“….Ain’t even touched yo’ ass yet,” he murmurs, but his finger circles again, mimicking the lazy thrust of his tongue—slow, then slower—until you’re squirming, your hips canting up into his touch.   

“Mwen renmen w,” you mewl, and his fingers curl, gripping your thigh as he licks into your mouth like he’s trying to taste the words.  

“‘Fuckin’ right you do.”

The air in the Hummer is thick—hot with the weight of desperate breaths and the slick, sinful sound of his fingers teasing you through damp fabric. Your hands fist gently in his beard, the coarse strands scraping against your palms, sending a shiver down your spine. You can’t help it—you nuzzle against the roughness, craving the friction, the burn of it against your skin before dragging him down into another filthy, open mouthed kiss.  

Your legs spread wider—so fucking wide—knees falling slack against the leather seats, silently begging.  

His fingers then hook into the waistband of your capris, dipping just beneath. He doesn’t even push inside yet, just swipes slow along your soaked folds, gathering the slick there before dragging back up. Your hips jerk, but he pins you with a glare, forehead pressed hard against yours as his breath fans over your parted lips.  

“M’gonna cum if you put ‘em in,” you whimper, voice trembling, weak.  

You squirm, biting your lip—“Ony…I’m so wet.” 

His nostrils flare, eyes narrowing as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear—“I’mma put ‘em in. You ‘bet not fuckin’ cum.”

The moment his thick fingers slide inside you, deep, your body betrays you in the most obscene way—your pussy clenches around him with a wet, shuddering pfft  as his knuckles sink into your swollen folds.  

A weak, desperate sob tears from your throat, your voice breaking high and needy like you haven’t been touched in years, like his fingers are the only thing keeping you sane. Worse? You gush around him instantly, soaking his hand in a humiliating rush of slick, your hips jerking helplessly.  

“Fuck,” he growls, dragging the word out low and rough as your eyes roll back. He’s fucking you with his fingers, slow and deep, curling them just right to make your back arch off the seat.  

“Ughn—ohmygod—“ you slur, voice wrecked, your mouth falling slack as he pistons his fingers in and out, your wetness squelching around them with every thrust.  

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear—“Soundin’ like a fuckin’ baby.” 

And you do—whimpering, gasping, your pussy clenching around his fingers like it’s trying to milk them for more.  

“Ain’t even fucked you yet,” he murmurs, cruel, twisting his fingers just to hear you sob again.

A desperate whimper claws its way up your throat as you crash your mouth against his in a messy, open mouthed kiss—tongue sliding filthy against his, lips smearing wet and frantic. Your brows knit together, a tight little frown creasing your forehead as his fingers bury themselves even deeper, stretching you with that perfect, brutal coil that makes your toes curl.  

“Onyo’—fuhh—!" 

The words dissolve into a senseless slur, your voice cracking as your legs hike higher, knees pressing into your chest, showing him—begging him—just how badly you need it.  

Your mind hazes, drifting back to those long nights alone—phone pressed to your ear, his voice rough through the receiver as he talked you through it, murmuring filthy promises while you rubbed your clit with trembling fingers, tears streaking your cheeks.  

And now? You can’t even handle the real thing. 

His fingers withdraw with a wet pop, leaving you empty and whimpering—until his rough grip tangles in your hair, yanking your face toward his lap with a throaty command. 

“Gon’ eat this dick up," he grunts, voice dripping with dominance—“Actin’ like you can’t even take my fingers." 

You surge forward, pressing a sloppy, desperate kiss against his lips—“M’sorry—" 

“Ion’ wanna hear allat’,” he growls, "On yo’ knees." 

He shoves the console back with one hand, his other hand still fisted in your curls, guiding you down. The sight of you beneath him is obscenely perfect—your large, teary eyes peering up through your lashes, lips parted and puffy, freckled cheeks flushed.  

With trembling hands, you tug his sweats down just enough to free him—his dick springs out, thick and angry, the tip already glistening. It’s bigger than your face, heavy in your small hands, veins prominent under your fingertips.  

"Fuck," you whimper—you can’t help yourself, smacking the swollen head against your tongue before licking a kittenish stripe up his shaft. 

His rough palm cups the side of your face, calloused fingers pressing into your soft skin before delivering a dominant smack—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you whimper and redden under his touch.  

“How much you missed this dick?" He growls, watching with hooded eyes as you bob your head messily, spit and pre-cum slicking your lips.  

Your answer comes in slurred, desperate sucks—“Mmmhh—mmph!"—the vibration of your whimpers traveling up his length. You've always struggled to take him fully, but you try so hard, your throat fluttering around the head as you choke back tears.  

He chuckles darkly, reaching for the blunt still smoldering in the ashtray. Onyankopon takes a slow drag, exhaling smoke through his nose like some kind of arrogant god watching his worshipper struggle.  

“Pull them pretty ass titties out," he commands, "You know what a nigga like." 

With shaky hands, you tug your top down, letting your heavy breasts spill free. Your nipples are already peaked and sensitive, and when your fingers brush over them, you jolt with a breathy gasp. 

“Ah—!" 

“Keep goin'," he rumbles, sinking deeper into his seat, blunt dangling between his fingers as he watches you with lazy hunger.

“‘Ain't tell you to stop." 

You press your tits together around his thick length, the head of his dick peeking out between the softness of your cleavage. You begin rocking your body, fucking him with your tits in slow, worshipful strokes—  

"Mwen renmen w," you mewl again, voice weak and trembling, your swollen lips forming the words between gasps.  

“Say that shit again.”

“Mwen renmen w!" you mewl even deeper, your hips jerking uselessly as your arousal drips down your thighs.  

He grunts, finally tossing the blunt aside—“Fuck it. A nigga need yo’ pussy now."

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, pulling him down as your back hits the leather seat—his massive frame hovers over you, swallowing you in shadow except for the violet glow of the LED lights streaking across his sweat-slicked skin. Your lips find him again in a weak, sloppy kiss, your mind too fogged with lust to form coherent thoughts—just need, just heat, just him. 

“Show a nigga what he been missin’.” 

Your thighs tremble as you slowly spread your legs wider beneath him, presenting your soaked folds—puffy and glistening under the dim light.  

“Been waitin’ for you," you whimper, voice cracking with desperation.  

The words hit him like a match to gasoline.  

He crashes his mouth back onto yours in a searing kiss before trailing his lips down—lower—licking a hot stripe down your neck, sucking bruises into your throat, teeth scraping over your collarbone. Your back arches when his tongue swirls around one taut nipple, then the other, pulling whines from your chest as pleasure spikes through you.  

But he doesn’t stop there.  

Strong hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider as he licks his lips—"Fuck, look at you." 

And then he dives in.  

His tongue drags slow and filthy up your slit, savoring you before he buries his face between your legs, nose nudging your clit as he devours—deep, hungry strokes of his tongue, curling just right inside you.  

Your hands fly to his braids, gripping tight as your hips jerk—  

"Fuck, baby.” 

His response? A low, vibrating growl against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs to hold you still as he feasts.  

Onyankopon’s mouth is filthy—so loud, messy and wet, lips sealing around your clit with a suck that makes your whole body jerk. Saliva and arousal mix in obscene, sloppy sounds, his tongue working you open with rough, languid strokes like he's savoring every damn second.  

You tuck your chin shyly, peeking down at him through fluttering lashes—his face buried between your thighs, eyes hooded with satisfaction as he eats you like his last meal. Your fingers tangle in his braids, twisting gently, playing with the silky strands as a soft pout forms on your lips.  

“…Missed playin’ in your hair," you whimper, voice thick with emotion—almost fragile, like admitting it out loud makes it more real.   

“Ain’t gotta miss it,” he rasps, his tongue plunging deep—"Keep playin’ in my shit. Gon’ let you braid me up again after you make a fuckin’ mess on me." 

Your breath hitches, fingers tightening in his hair as you nod frantically, spreading your legs even wider—"Uh-huh—y-yeah—!"  

Your words dissolve into stupid, slurred nonsense—"Ony—fuhh—I’mgonnac—“ as your pussy gushes against his mouth, the lewd squelch of his tongue working you over drowning out your weak cries. Your cheeks burn hot, embarrassment and pleasure twisting together as you feel everything—his nose grinding against your clit, his lips sucking your folds, his tongue fucking into you in slow, filthy circles.  

“Taste so fuckin’ good," he growls against your skin, the vibration making you squeal peevishly.

“Mwen renmen w..." 

And just like that? Switch flipped. 

His grip tightens, lifting your legs effortlessly over his broad shoulders, thumbs rubbing slow circles into the arches of your feet like he’s savoring the feel of you.  

“Keep tellin’ a nigga you love him,” he grunts, voice low and rough—"Let’s have a conversation." 

You whimper, arms looping around his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead presses against yours—breaths mingling, hearts pounding.  

“Mwen renmen w," you whisper again, barely audible, lips brushing his with each syllable.  

And then—oh God—you feel him. His thick length slaps against your soaked folds, the blunt head nudging at your entrance, already making your body tense in anticipation.  

“Yeah, huh? Talk to me." 

You nod frantically, pliant eyes struggling to focus as he starts to sink in—slow, so damn slow—stretching you in a way you haven’t felt in too long.  

Your face twists—lips parting around a shaky gasp—as the fullness steals your breath.  And then? Emotion hits you like a tidal wave.  

Tears prick at your eyes, your chest swelling with something so big it hurts. You feel connected—like his soul is pressing into yours with every inch.  

“Mwen renmen w," you sob—weakest yet, voice cracking—as he finally bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass.  

His groan is guttural, hands tightening on your thighs—“Fuck, mama—I know." 

And then he moves.

His strokes are borderline punishing—each thrust forcing a choked gasp from your throat, the stretch of him bordering on too much, too deep, too everything. Yet your body clings to him greedily, walls fluttering around his length like it’s been starved—rewarding him for every inch he takes, every brutal snap of his hips that leaves you whimpering.  

Your toes curl, thighs trembling where they’re hooked over his shoulders. One large hand fists at the nape of your hair, yanking your face close to his until your foreheads knock together—your head jerks back with each rough thrust, lips parted in a shaky pout, tears spilling over your flushed cheeks.  

Weak little sobs hitch in your chest with every drive of his hips, your nails digging crescent moons into the sweat-slick muscles of his back. Between broken moans, your voice cracks—soft, vulnerable—  

“Hurts—seein’ you leave," you sniffle, brows knitting together, “D—don’t…wanna do that again…” 

His glare darkens, jaw tightening as he rams into you harder—deeper—a grunt tearing from his chest as his breath fans hot over your face.  

“Then don’t," he snarls, voice raw with possessiveness, "Ain’t goin’ nowhere if you keep takin’ dick like this.” 

Your next cry is swallowed by his mouth—his kiss bruising, tongue forcing its way past your lips as if to silence your doubts. And god help you, you let him—melting into the pain, the pleasure, the promise in every snap of his hips.  

You’re silent now—past words, past whimpers—just taking him, your body trembling under the sheer weight of his dominance. The only sound is the obscene squelch of your pussy creaming around him, gushing embarrassingly with every withdrawal of his thick length.  

“That’s it—take this shit. Ain’t no runnin’ now,” he growls, watching your teary eyes roll back as your walls clench around him.  

A surrendering little sob escapes you once more—weak, broken—your hands limply gripping his shoulders as he fucks you through it, his pace never faltering.  

“Fuck, girl—you drippin’ all on me." 

And you are—soaking his thighs, the leather seats, everything. Your orgasm wrings you out in slow, torturous waves as he uses you, claims you, ruins you. 

His touch softens just enough to soothe—calloused fingers brushing away your tears as he kisses you through your cries, lips lingering against yours in a rare moment of tenderness.

“M’sorry,” he just grunts, voice rough with sincerity.

“Ain’t leavin’ you again." 

Your nods and whimpers dissolve into another aching climax, your pussy pulsing around him as you drown in the love, the passion, the need. It’s a moment that could last forever. 

But just like that? The mood shifts. 

His grip tightens, flipping you effortlessly onto your knees, face pressed into the leather as he drags you back onto his lap—ass up, his dick buried to the hilt inside you. Your feet tuck atop his thighs, heels digging in as you let out a tiny, shuddering “O—Ooh—!" 

You start slow. Rolling your hips back tentatively, but he then growls, “Take yo’ time. ‘This dick ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

The command is clear.  

You listen, setting a rhythm—slow, deliberate—skin slapping together in a steady, filthy clap that fills the heavy silence. Your thighs tremble, face smushed into the seat as your whimpers grow louder—"O—O-ooh—!" 

Onyankopon’s hand cracks down on your ass, “‘There she go’. My lil’ nasty ass bitch." 

Your fingers slip between your lips, stifling your moans as you rock back onto him, ass quaking with each bounce.  

“I ain’t movin’," he warns, "Give me a fuckin’ show.” 

You press a shaky hand against his abdomen for leverage, sitting up just enough to feel him deeper—too deep—hitting a spot so painfully good your body locks up.

His grip tightens around your waist as you whimper—"Ooh, shit!” before desperately bouncing your ass back onto him, the sound of skin slapping skin deafening in the enclosed space.  

And then? Your pussy farts around him for the thousandth time, wet and obscene, the vibration dragging a trembling groan from your throat—“Ooooh, mygod—Papa—!" 

You were never loud like this. 

Your moans drag out—whiny, high-pitched, annoyed with yourself because you can’t stop them, each thrust pulling another pathetic sound from your lips.  

Onyankopon’s hand slips around your torso, calloused fingers cupping beneath your breasts where his name brands into your skin—it’s effortless. He’s bouncing you down onto his dick like you weigh nothing, your legs kicking weakly as your cream paints his length.   

“You gon’ keep takin’ this muhfucka’ like you missed it.” 

And you do—each bounce, each squelch, each fatty noise your pussy makes proving it.  

"That’s my muhfuckin’ girl." 

Your head falls back against his shoulder, mouth drooling, eyes rolling, body melting. He owns you. 

His thick forearm presses against your throat, the pressure just enough to make your vision blur at the edges as he fucks into you with even more brutal, punishing strokes. His jaw rests heavy atop your head, your weak panting the only sound you can manage past the tightness in your windpipe—your body submitting under his dominance.  

“Mmmf—hot," you mewl, sweat slicked skin sticking to his, the air in the car suffocating.  

Without breaking rhythm, Onyankopon reaches over and rolls the window down, the sudden rush of night air hitting your overheated skin—  

Oh God. 

Your noises—those pathetic, whimpering, creaming sounds—are now free to echo into the quiet neighborhood.  

Panicked, you reach a shaky hand toward the window switch—but his grip tightens around your throat, cutting off your air as he rams up into you, all while tugging you down onto his dick even harder. 

“Nngh—!" you choke, humiliation burning through you as you clench around him.  

“You whinin’ like a bitch,” he grunts directly into your ear, the vibration shooting straight to your core.  

Then, with a final rough tug, he forces your face toward the open window—forcing you to see the dimly lit houses, the quiet streets—his people, his city.  

“Let everybody know I’m back home.”

And you scream. His name ripping from your throat, raw and unhinged. 

“Mwen renmen w,”  he growls between thrusts, the Creole rolling off his tongue like honey mixed with gravel—your words, your love, thrown back at you with the same raw intensity you’d given him all night.  

Your body jerks as he nuts—deep, so deep—his release flooding you in thick, pulsing waves that make your thighs quiver. 

For a long moment, there’s nothing but heavy breathing—his chest rising and falling against your back, your own breath hitching in your throat as aftershocks ripple through you.  

Then, weakly, you tilt your head up, catching his lips in one last, tender kiss—your little cries soft against his mouth, voice trembling with everything—relief, exhaustion, love.  

Your body melts back against his chest, muscles lax and satisfied as you peer out through the cracked window at the quiet streets of the 7th Ward. The humid night air carries the distant hum of cicadas and the faint bassline of someone’s music drifting from a porch down the block. His warmth presses into your back, steadying, as you tilt your head to murmur against his skin—  

“Where would we go... if we left?" 

For a beat, he stills—his breath huffing against your damp shoulder before he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin there. 

“Wherever you wanna be, girl. ‘Long as it’s got a bed that can take how I fuck you." 

A weak giggle bubbles from your throat—but then you say it, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them. 

“‘M serious, Papa. I think it’s time to get out the 7th.” 

You feel his surprise, the way his grip tightens reflexively around your waist.

“Where ‘this comin’ from?”   

You swallow, suddenly shy. 

"Been thinkin’... ’bout quiet. ‘Bout space. ‘Bout you—us—somewhere ain’t nobody knockin’ on the door.”

His fingers trace idle patterns on your hip as he murmurs, “A crib up in the Art District ‘don’t sound bad."

“Gives more space for Bear to run around."

“Yeah," he agrees, "A nigga could look into some trade schools ‘round there too." 

Wait. 

 You turn slightly in his arms, searching his face. 

“You’re serious?" 

He nods. Then he says it—words heavy with the weight of a future he’s choosing.

“‘Wanna give you a ring. A child. ‘Can’t do allat’ bein’ on the streets.”

Your heart swells. 

You clutch his face as you say, “It doesn’t matter who you are to everybody else. You got me. I love you more than life itself, Onyankopon.” 

He grunts low in his throat—then crashes his lips against yours in a kiss so deep, so emotional, it makes you giggle against his mouth, cheeks burning.  

“We finna’ go get a ring right fuckin’ now.” 

You giggle once more, pressing a hand to his chest. 

"Let’s make it into the house first, yeah? We need a shower." 

"Aight. Imma’ fuck you again in there." 

You squeak as he hoists you up, your half naked body tucked tight against his chest as he steps out into the humid night. A few voices call out from porches down the block—“Aye, Ony back home!"—cheery, thick with that Southern lilt. 

You nestle your face against the sweat damp skin of his collarbone before murmuring, “…The 7th ain’t so bad with you here." 

When you peer up, his gaze is already locked on you—dark, heavy, full of something that makes your stomach flip.  

“A nigga couldn’t ask for anythin’ more than yo’ love.”

Before you can respond—scratch scratch scratch—Bear’s massive paws hit the front door, his excited whines vibrating through the wood.  

Onyankopon just chuckles, adjusting you in his arms as he kicks the door open. And the last thing the neighborhood hears before it slams shut? Your giggles, his grunt as Bear tackles him, and the thud of all three of you entering inside with a heap. 

It must be the ultimate tabboo- to do this with all three of you? Sure, he's done unspeakable things with his bunny, but this is different. And yeah, he's great with animals, but he doesn't know what he's done to deserve all your attention.

He doesn't want to take advantage of any of you- you're just so sweet.

"You- ah, don't have to do that-"

He addresses the beautiful kitty who now has his jeans lowered, around his thighs, starting to work the swell in his shorts. You watch her tilt her head to the side as she giggles and keeps going.

He really doesn't get it.

And now the sweet puppy to his left, he's nearly jumping on the sofa cushions with excitement, seeing how Megumi's being unwrapped.

"W-wanna kiss- you, please?"

He whines and he can barely articulate his thoughts. You always thought puppies were kind of dumb, but incredibly cute.

Megumi turns his head and recieves a wet and messy kiss from him, and he brings a hand to his ears to settle him down. But his tail is wagging uncontrollably and he's getting so dizzy from the attention.

Meanwhile, your mits are now smoothing over the firm muscle of your owner's chest.

This was all your idea, after all. You invited them here, after hearing that their owners weren't giving them the love they needed. You promised that your owner was kind and generous enough for all of you. And of course, you feel a little jealous, seeing your friend's paws all over him... but you want them to feel good, too. And you have to admit, they are so cute. You wonder if Megumi looks at you this way? Like you're the prettiest, most adorable thing he's ever seen.

Your hands trace lower and lower, pulling his shirt off now as your kitty girl friend gets his shorts off, and soon he's stripped.

"Come on-" he tugs at the skimpy dress you're wearing and gives you a desperate look- he looks a little overwhelmed for once.

"Sorry- owner, is it... too much?"

"No, honey, I just want... to see you- all of you, please?"

He doesn't have to ask twice.

And when you're all naked for him, your touching gets very intense. The softest purring sounds come from the kitty girl, who's now sucking at Megumi's swollen tip. You watch how he sinks into her mouth, and that alone is getting you hot... not to mention how your owner is feeling between your legs. You're kneeling next to him, your legs spreading wider and wider the more he works his dextrous and long digits inside. How can he even concentrate when he's plunging his dick in her like that? You wonder, but your thoughts are soon interrupted by a yelp from your puppy boy friend.

"Mmh- shh-"

Megumi must've tugged at the fluffy strands of his hair a bit too hard. But that's just how he gets when he's kissing... you're used to it, but perhaps you should've warned your puppy friend that your owner likes to bite.

You vie for his attention and he swaps between you two, turning his head from the big sloppy tongue of the puppy, to the familiar sweet lips of his darling bunny.

"Mm, you two are so... pretty"

He has a sudden and desperate need to see you on the floor next to your pretty kitty friend, so he grabs at your waist and guides you down. The puppy boy's ears prick up as if you're playing a new and exciting game, and follows you onto the carpet.

"Good girl," he strokes behind the kitty girl's pointy ears, "let the others take their turns, hm?"

She mewls softly and releases him from her mouth with a little trickle of her spit running down her chin and he swears he could cum right there. But he holds it and lets his pretty bunny and puppy taste him too.

"Ngh- fuck-" he's used to your methods- you're quite reserved when you suck him. He has to encourage you and pet you softly until you start getting messy. But this puppy boy- he can't do it slower. He can't stop himself from taking his dick as deep as it'll go, choking slightly and repeating until Megumi is about to bust.

"S-stop stop, that's enough-"

Not yet. He won't cum yet. Not before he's seen those cute holes of yours...

"Come here, turn around- good- fuck, who wants it first?"

He sits on the sofa with his legs spread wide and invites you onto his lap one by one- first your sweet kitty girl friend. She lowers herself with her back to him and you watch her eyes cross when he drags her down his cock.

"M-M-Megumi !!!" she just adores having an owner's name to cry out, "a-are you-- all the way... inside?"

"Haha, no kitten, can you take a bit more, for me?"

"Yes, yes only- a-ah little please- please be careful-"

She doesn't have to tell him that. You and your sweet puppy boy friend wait (impatiently) for your turns, watching how he fucks her. It's mesmerising. He's gentle yet... so firm, his every movement is commanding and full of power. His hands close around her waist, he orders her to touch her clit and she lets off a surprised mewl, her legs shaking with pleasure.

"Oh kitty, was that nice?"

Next it's your turn. You face your owner, where he presses kisses to your chest and sucks eagerly at your cute tits, then lines himself up and pulls you down.

"Hmm-- hnnn---"

He watches your eyes flutter back and your friends watch how you start to bounce on his lap, like you have hundreds of times before. And they're in awe, of an owner and pet so in sync- it makes them feel a little sad that their owners don't treat them like this. They can tell there's such a strong bond between you two, with how he encourages you to ride him just right, and how you're so eager to please him.

"That's right, bunny- you're too good at this, hm?"

He praises you and tugs at the little tuft of your tail so lovingly, then suddenly starts bucking his hips up into you to get you squirming.

"Nh- th-that's so good, owner, please, righ-t there..." he loves seeing you like this, feeling you squeeze him, then sigh and moan with your orgasm.

He lifts you off and lays you on the sofa where you can rest and watch.

Your puppy boy friend has got incredibly impatient and whiny this whole time... he looks so sweet, with his tail between his legs in embarrassment- because of the, quite frankly, massive boner that's straining between his legs.

Megumi eyes him up and down- there's no way he's taking that. But, after a soft whisper to you, you dart to your room and fetch a bottle of lube, and Megumi coaxes the sweet puppy back onto his lap, where he starts rubbing him with his fingers.

"Keep still-" his tail is still wagging incessently, so Megumi pins it to his back and causes him to yelp again.

How many fingers are inside him now? You can't see, but you and your kitty friend are amazed. You sit next to her on the carpet now, where your fingers stray between her legs, and she reciprocates, as you enjoy the show.

Megumi starts groaning now- feeling the ache of his cock after having so much pleasure but no release. One more, one more- he keeps telling himself.

"You ready?"

He's so considerate, making the puppy boy blush red and nod, his ears bouncing as he grabs onto Megumi's thighs in preparation for what's to come.

He slides in slow, making the sweet puppy's tongue flop out- he looks dizzy. And you two are loving every second- her fingers dip in and out of you, where yours press and circle her clit. You moan and giggle and whimper- it feels so silly; two pets touching each other. But it feels so right that you don't stop.

"That's it- ngh, puppy, you have a fucking tight hole, you know that?"

He shakes his head. No, no, he doesn't know that. Keep telling him that. Because his owner never does.

"It's tight- and you're gonna make me cum- is it okay if I do it inside?"

"Hnng-- p-please---" he nods urgently and you see him squeeze his thighs together with such need.

You lean forward, your kitty friend following, still with her fingers attached to you- and you press your lips to your sweet puppy's flushed tip.

You suck him there, watching Megumi lift his ass so his thrusts don't disturb your motions. And you get no warning- just a twitch of his cock and he's spurting down your throat.

And it seems, simultaneously, Megumi finally gets his turn.

"Wow- you came hard, huh? Yeah- don't fucking stop I can feel you back here- oo-oh my god th-that's- that's so good baby-"

Baby!!! He called me baby!!!

You pop your lips from the puppy's dick and watch him hump your sweet owner in an absolute cock drunk daze. He looks so happy.

And you all are. Now, after treating your friends to this pleasure they deserve. Why would their owners not want to do this with them? They're so perfect and cute- you might just have to do this more often.

right after i saw some kink shaming posts too :p i'm cured now thanks beautiful anon for your (not so innocent) mistake <3

A promise she’s kept more than once. Too many times. Omegas like Aya, young and vibrant and oh-so-lovely, shouldn’t have any trouble finding a pack to settle down with. Hell, alphas should be banging down the door just for a chance with her – to fuck, to bond, anything and everything in between. You’re the sticking point. The reason why Ayako hasn’t bonded into a pack yet.

Alphas have no interest in betas. They do nothing for them – can’t take a knot, don’t have heats. Betas aren’t durable enough to ride out an alpha’s rut. All that compounded by the simple fact that bonding bites between the two don’t last longer than a few months, so why bother?

You’re dead weight. Aya clings to you anyway. 

She pulls your hand to her cheek, the tender, delicate spot right beneath the curve of her jaw. Scenting, you realise a touch belatedly. Omegas have stronger scents than betas do; florals, spice, indulgent, enticing things – you once knew an omega whose scent reminded you of hot caramel drizzled over apple pie. Ayako smells like lilacs and the rain, a softer scent admittedly, yet one that screams of home and comfort and familiar things. 

Your own scent is milder. Now, on top of sea salt and that faint whisper of summer, you’ll smell a little of her. She’s claiming you as pack, as hers. Her beta, exactly as she’d said

A flutter of warmth blooms in your chest, and you smile back at her, the first genuine one of the night. 

“You look great, by the way,” she tells you. “Come on, Tendou messaged to say they’re running a bit late and we should head on in without them. Ushijima’s practice doesn’t finish up ‘til about seven, so we’ve got plenty of time for the show.” She winks and lets out a bubbling laugh and you kind of feel like you’ve missed the joke.

Nevertheless, you let her tug you into the stadium. The lady behind the ticketing counter slides across two visitor’s passes on lanyards when Ayako gives your names.

“Practices are closed to the public,” the omega explains in a hushed voice while the two of you make your way towards the door for the stands. “Apparently the team get a few passes they can hand out to whoever they like – pack, usually.”

The pass has your name printed on it. Beneath it, in bold; Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

You finger the plastic edges absentmindedly. 

There’s other people in the stands, all wearing the same style lanyard draped around your neck. Some, you think, are partners. Friends and family. Pack, like Ayako said. You spy a woman maybe a few years older than you, bouncing a toddler on her lap and pointing animatedly towards the court, another guy sitting beside her, an arm curled over the back of her seat. Others appear to be there in a more official capacity – staff, you suppose, wearing the same white polo edged in blue and gold (team colours, you guess), talking quietly amongst themselves and jotting things down on expensive looking tablets. 

They pay you no mind. Ayako does the same, dragging you right up to the guard-rail with an excited gasp. You’d been expecting them to be running laps or tossing balls in pairs or something. You weren’t expecting anything like this. 

Without the roar of a crowd, every noise on the court is amplified; the squeaking of shoes, the thwack of palms meeting leather, shouts ricocheting from both sides as they scramble for the ball.

Scramble isn’t the right word, though. It flies through the air between the players, choreographed chaos.

One of the players, a dark haired behemoth, shoots up and connects with the ball, slamming it over the net with a terrifying force – you feel the impact in your chest when it hits the floor.

A whistle rings out.

“Oh my god,” Aya breathes.

The behemoth turns, dark eyes zeroing in on your figure from across the court. His nostrils flare.

Alpha, you realise. He’s one of Aya’s alphas.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

“You know he’s one of the top wing spikers in the country, and he’s on the national team? He’s already got like three Olympic medals! Three!” she gushes. “He’s incredible.”

You hardly hear her. The other players on the court, his teammates, are already re-setting, a blond slapping Ushijima on the back, another hurling a teasing jab across the net – earning him a middle finger in response – Ushijima’s gaze doesn’t shift, his attention doesn’t waver. You swear you see his pupils dilate. 

Your breath is caught somewhere in your chest. 

“Are you gonna wave at the alpha you dressed so pretty for?” 

“Would you stop?” you hiss, tearing your gaze away to jab an elbow into Ayako’s side, which she artfully dodges with a delighted giggle. 

“Can’t say I blame you for drooling. I practically melted into a puddle the first time Semi dragged him into the bakery. He’s hot as hell,” she sighs. 

The problem is, she isn't wrong. Weird, heavy, way too intense eye contact aside, Ushijima is the textbook definition of ‘hot alpha’; all tall and broad shouldered, his face hewn with clean, strong lines. Add on the ridiculous athleticism, the muscles that clearly aren’t just for show – yeah, no wonder Aya’s got heart eyes already. 

On the court below, the whistle blows. More cheers. Another point scored. By the time you glance down again, Ushijima’s lost interest, his focus returned to the game, nodding at something one of the (you presume) coaches yells across the court.

The tight, prickling feeling writhing beneath your skin, that doesn’t fade as quick. 

God, you’re way too worked up about this whole thing. 

“He’s very, uh…” 

“Intimidating? No– impressive? Or were you gonna say sexy? All true, by the way. Ushiwaka’s a beast.”

The other two alphas have finally deigned to grace you with their presence. Wonderful. 

Swallowing back a wince, you turn to face the duo. “Good,” you say. “I was going to say he’s very… good.”

Aya had told you the basics, of course; Semi’s the lead singer slash guitarist in a band, Tendou’s a chocolatier. The former used to be a civil servant, the latter recently moved back from a stint in Paris, and both of them played Volleyball with Ushijima in high school. 

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting. Carbon cutouts of their packmate, maybe, big, brawny, radiating the kind of imposing dominance that forces everyone around them – other alphas included – to sit down and shut up with a look alone. 

The two alphas before you aren’t that. 

The shorter of the two, more wiry in his build than the redhead beside him, smirks. “Good, huh?” 

He’s teasing you. They’re both teasing you. Your cheeks burn hotter. Before you can open your mouth to apologise, try and sidestep you shoving your own foot in your mouth as a first impression, Aya intervenes. 

“You should’ve seen her a minute ago, her jaw was on the ground. She’s playing it cool.”

The sound of her laugh digs at you in a way it shouldn’t. 

It’s not fair, not when you’re the one who’s acting like you don’t have a single working brain cell and she’s trying to cover for you, but it bothers you when Ayako acts like she has to smoothe over your edges, make you more palatable, more pleasing. You’re not an omega, you won’t ever be an omega, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if Aya’s gonna spend the rest of your lives trying to compensate for that.

Her shoulder knocks with yours, a gentle bump, that same hopeful, painfully optimistic look in her eyes. 

Guilt, an old, familiar friend at this point, washes over you. 

“This is Semi,” she introduces, gesturing at the ash-blond with the ripped jeans, “and Tendou,” the gangly redhead. 

“And you must be our beta,” Semi surmises, slowly eyeing you over. 

The casual possessiveness rankles you, your tight smile freezing in place. Again Ayako simply laughs, her fingers, very deliberately, lacing with yours once more. “She’s my beta, you have yet to win her over.”

Neither alpha appears all that put out by the prospect.

Tendou, eyes crinkling with a wide, eager grin that takes you a little aback, thrusts a hand out towards you, a white gift bag you hadn’t noticed dangling from his fingertips. “Presents help with the whole wooing thing, right?” he jokes.

From your experience, yes. 

Aya’s received plenty. You, as her tag along beta, less so. 

One pack brought you a bouquet of pink and white peonies on your first date. Not quite as  extravagant as the arrangement of roses they presented Aya with, they had a lovely, subtle perfume and when you put them in a vase and set them atop your nightstand, they brightened up the whole room. You could appreciate that they’d at least tried to make you feel an equal part of this. 

They’d been willing to play pretend.

Back then, when Aya first started bringing potential packs around, you were… idealistic. Naive, maybe. 

You watched them dote on her. Lap up Aya’s attention like it was the sweetest fix. You saw the hunger. The arousal that flared, thick and syrupy, whenever she did something unintentionally appealing to the alpha inside of them – a simple stretch, nibbling on her bottom lip while she mulled over a menu, the sway of her hips as she walked up to the bar.

Oh, they were polite to you. Drew you into conversations, chatted about your job, your hobbies, the plans the two of you had for the holidays in a few weeks’ time – all the while tracking every movement of the omega beside you from the corner of their eyes.

They were nice to you. You didn’t want ‘nice’. You wanted what they so freely offered to Aya; hunger and captivated attention, a desire so thick in the air you could choke on it. 

Foolish, pretty fantasies. There’s no competing with biology, you know that. The most interesting, beautiful beta in the room is still just a beta. 

Down below, the court’s quieter, muted chatter drifting up to the bleachers in place of squeaking and thuds and the sharp trill of whistles blowing. Did the practice match finish up?

Aya squeezes your hand. Drops it. As subtle a cue as she can manage. 

Brain kicking back into gear, you step closer and pluck the gift from the alpha’s outstretched hand, an odd little shiver trickling down your spine when the tips of your fingers graze his rough palm. 

“Ah, thank you,” you say, remembering your manners at last.

Tendou’s eyes flutter shut, breathing in deep, shuddering a little on the exhale. When they open again, there’s a giddy sort of satisfaction creeping from his expression. He licks his lips, smiling wide. “Sea salt.”

“… Sorry?”

“The chocolates,” his chin juts towards the gift. “Sea salt caramel. I had a feeling, went with it. I’m not usually wrong.” He sounds absurdly proud of the fact. 

“Oh.” 

Beside you, Aya looks as lost as you feel. Semi, on the other hand, snorts, shaking his head. “You might wanna ease up on the beta, dude. She met you all of three minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna be besties. I can feel it.” Without warning he slings an arm over your shoulders, dragging you close to smush you into his side, unbothered by your startled yelp, the way the bag of chocolates smacks against his torso when the hand clutching it jerks out to steady yourself. “Don’t be jealous ‘cuz I’m already the favourite, Semi-Semi.”

Semi shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, leaning back against the centre railing behind him. Slowly, a smirk unfurls. A challenge. “For now.”

Plastered against Tendou’s side, swallowed up by the heat of him, the heady scent of cherrywood – of alpha – thick and strong, and with no sign of him letting you go anytime soon, you dart a glance to Aya.

Your best, oldest (admittedly only) friend, watching the three of you with a quirked eyebrow, expression otherwise indecipherable–

And then, she giggles, rolling her eyes with exasperated amusement. “Can we at least sit while you two fight over my well-earned spot?” 

You wonder if they notice the brief look of concern she throws your way as Tendou relaxes his hold and the two usher you over to a seat, Semi snagging the one to your left, Aya taking the right.

Her promise from earlier rings in your head. One word and she’ll walk, no questions asked. 

Aya needs a pack. She wants this one. She likes this one, but at some point, she’ll need one. 

Omegas don’t do well long term without mates. Right now her heats are okay, manageable with suppressants and toys – eventually those won’t be enough. They’ll get worse, come without warning, more frequently. The suppressants won’t help, she’ll ache and burn up, forgo food, water, sleep…

The lucky ones end up hospitalised. The unlucky ones either end up dead or in situations where it’d be a kindness if they were. 

“You okay?” she asks, whisper soft. Her voice won’t carry, the other two aren’t paying attention anyway. Semi’s thigh brushes up against yours when he spreads his legs wide, thumbing out a message on his phone, and Tendou’s leaning over the backrest between you, chin perched on his folded forearms, watching him type. 

One word and she’ll walk, that’s what Aya promised. 

Down on the court below, the players spread across the floor, stretching out and cooling down, half empty water bottles and sweat towels scattered around them. Ushjima’s lying on your side of the court, one thigh drawn over the other, twisting out his lower back. If he realises he’s got an audience in you and Aya, he gives no indication of caring, holding the stretch for a few seconds longer before repeating the motion with the other leg. 

“Yeah.”

If chocolates and overly tactile besties are what you get out of this, you can manage that. 

—

While you wait out front of the stadium for Ushijima to finish up, Semi smokes.

A lit cigarette dangles loosely between two fingers, the tip glowing cherry red with every drag. He stands separate from the three of you, a few feet away, because when he’d fished out the slightly crumpled packet from his jacket pocket to pluck one out, Aya’s nose wrinkled. Omegas are sensitive to strong smells at the best of times, and Aya’s loathed the stench of cigarettes ever since she was a kid and her dad would smoke on the back porch of her gran’s place. He died years ago, and to this day she swears up and down that every time she sets foot back there, she smells those Seven Stars.

To her credit, she hadn’t actually said anything, and to Semi’s, he hadn’t kicked up a fuss. He’d shrugged, shuffled on back and lit up anyway. Water off a duck’s back.

Tendou talks loudly and Aya’s giggling laugh echoes louder. Semi watches. Idle – bored, almost. 

Until his gaze shifts to you.

And stays there.

From a young age, you’re taught that alphas are stronger than betas and omegas. They’re quicker. Smarter. In the old days, they tell you, alphas were the hunters, the providers – protectors, when the situation called for it. What they mean, dressing the truth up in nicer, more palatable terms is that alphas are, down to their marrow, predators. 

Those instincts don’t go away just because society’s a little more civilised these days. 

Semi’s expression doesn’t change. There’s nothing particularly dangerous or threatening there, nothing to explain the sudden ball of anxiety that lodges itself in your stomach. 

Yet you can’t shake the sense that with that stare, every ounce of his focus rests solely on you. Every breath, every nervous twitch, shift of your muscles, all of it tracked, analysed. He stares, breathing out a slow plume of smoke, and you feel the physical weight of it bearing down on you.

He won’t bite, lunge for the kill – but he could.

His chin tilts, eyebrow lifting. A flicker of amusement, as if he knows exactly the thoughts running wild in your head. You shake them off, ignore the hammering of your heart to follow the wordless, beckoning call to his side, nudging Aya on the way past so she won’t think you’ve abandoned her. 

“You realise she’s gonna try and get you to quit,” you tell him in what you hope is a friendly, upbeat tone. 

Semi scoffs and takes another drag of his cigarette. You watch, off-kilter, a little dazed as his head tilts back, exposing the long, lithe column of his throat, and he slowly exhales.

With dark, sweeping lashes and angular features, the problem, you realise, is that Semi is distractingly pretty. An artless, grunged up sort of pretty. Pretty like pools of oil on asphalt after it rains. 

Pretty in the way that poisonous things often are. 

“She’s more than welcome to try.” He plucks his cig from his lips and extends it your way, his expression almost… goading. 

You don’t take it.

There isn’t much surprise to be found in your refusal, his pretty mouth pursing as his arm falls by the wayside. “Omega’s got her claws stuck in you good, huh.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it. What all this boils down to. Right from the start, the very first pack you met and every pack since – Aya’s made it clear from the get-go. They don’t get her without you. You’re her beta. 

“Is that a problem for you?”

You won’t take the cigarette because Aya has issues with it. She won’t entertain you leaving her because the two of you are too fucking entangled in one another to handle extrication.

You’re pack, you’re family, you’re all each other has left, now that her grandma – the woman who essentially raised you and her – is gone. 

You won’t play second fiddle, if only because Aya won’t allow them to push you aside like that. If that’s a problem, a dealbreaker (and, historically speaking, it has been) better they figure it out now, before she – or you – gets too attached and ends up hurt. 

Semi regards you for a long moment, taking one last puff of his cigarette before he flicks it away, grinds the smoldering butt into the cement with the toe of his boot. “Don’t know yet. Guess we’ll find out.”

And you nod, because at least that’s an honest answer. 

“Tendou came back to Japan for her, didn’t he?” It’d twigged when you’d gone to hand back your visitor’s pass and the lady behind the counter made some casual comment about not expecting to see him ‘til next season.

Not back for a visit, back permanently.

Semi shakes his head, “He was always coming back. Paris was only ever a temporary thing,” he corrects. “But yeah, he made the decision to come home early when we realised the opportunity that’d fallen into our laps.”

While you don’t love the way he makes meeting Aya sound, you understand the gravity of what he’s saying. Tendou uprooted his life for her. 

You glance back over your shoulder, fiddling with the handles of the bag of chocolates he’d made for you. They’re still talking, quieter now, both of them subtly – subconsciously, probably – angled towards the two of you; Aya with that same bright-eyed look about her, Tendou like he’s just itching to interrupt and steal your attention back for himself. He, at least, might actually like you. 

“And you? Are you all in, too?”

The words slip out before you can stop them. Semi doesn’t owe you an answer, you know that. It’s not fair that you asked, it’s just– you can’t get a read on him. For all his sharp edges and the smirks that make your insides squirm, you don’t know whether this is what he wants. Wanted, maybe.

Semi surprises you. In a move too quick for you to catch, he closes in on you. He doesn’t pin you down per se. You’re not caged in, trapped between his body and a wall. Physically speaking, there’s nothing stopping you from stepping back and regaining that inch of space as he looms over your shorter frame, tilting your chin upwards with two curled fingers like he’s going to kiss you. 

Nothing except your suddenly jelly legs. 

There’s barely anything separating you. Millimetres. Heat floods your face. Your stomach tightens, blood simmering, writhing beneath your skin. Long fingers encircle your wrist, right where Aya had scented you, his thumb digging in over your fluttering pulse. A noise escapes you then, a distressed sort of whimper you thought yourself above, and Semi’s eyes flick down to your lips, something dark and hungry flaring in response. 

Alpha. Smaller than his packmates, but no less. 

“Who d’you think called him and told him to get his ass back home, little beta?” 

You swallow unsteadily–

“Time to share, Semi-Semi,” Tendou sings, snaking an arm around your waist to haul you away from the blond. To you, he says, “You wanna come say hi to our big, bad pack alpha, don’tcha?” 

It’s then you realise that Ushijima, along with several of his teammates, have finally emerged. While they wave each other off, scattering across the carpark, some heading to their cars, others in the direction of buses and the train station, Ushijima halts near the door – Aya already skipping on over. 

“Ah… yes?”

Tendou snickers. 

“Relax,” Semi tells you with a smirk, clapping your shoulder as he brushes on past. “Ushiwaka doesn’t bite.” 

As Tendou nudges you forward like an errant duckling, you fix Semi with an unimpressed look. He winks. Asshole.

Omegas, especially unbonded omegas, tend to be picky about touch and physical affection outside of pack and family. Aya, for all her moon-eyed infatuation, doesn’t throw herself at the alpha. Ushijima offers a single, wooden pat on her head, the edges of his mouth lifting in what you suppose is an approximation of a smile.

She beams all the same.

“– and this is my beta,” she introduces. 

You’re not anticipating an overly warm welcome. For one, he looks stiff enough smiling at Aya to suspect he’s not practised with the expression, for another… the whole, weird staring thing from earlier sits all too fresh in your mind. If he’d heard your awkward fumbling with his packmates in the aftermath, you doubt that’s helped endear you to him any.

Nothing prepares you for the way he turns, every speck of goodwill falling from his features when your scent finally reaches him. Cold, remote stone, eyeing you down. 

“You smell like lilacs,” he grunts, like the very concept offends him. You, a beta, wearing his would-be mate’s scent. 

—

The izakaya the alphas take you to is only a few minutes walk from the stadium, and each one of them passes in near unbearable, stilted tension. 

Aya doesn’t question you when you make a bee-line for the bathroom rather than following the others to a table, though the small furrow between her brows says plenty.

You just need a minute.

The single unisex stall offers spartan amenities at best – a sink with a cracked mirror hammered into the wall, paper towels, and a lone, flickering light above. 

Braced over the porcelain vanity, eyes closed, shaking like a leaf with remnants of ice-cold water dripping down your face, you will the frantic, sickening churn inside you to ease. 

Fuck. 

What’s wrong with you?

Ushijima could barely stand that Aya had scented you, and you’re supposed to believe he’d let you bond into the pack with her? And if he did, what kind of life would that be? You, forever on the outside, pack but not really, not in the ways that matter. 

What place does a beta have between alphas and their omega?

More to the point, how, after all the packs you and Aya have tried this with, all the the indifference and dismissal you’ve weathered, the cruel insults you weren’t supposed to hear–

Think of it this way, dude; it’s a spare hole for you to stick your cock in while the omega’s busy bouncing on my knot.

–how are you still surprised that they don’t want you?

You let a slow breath out, shoulders sagging. Okay. 

Okay. 

Straightening up, you rip a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser, dabbing to remove any trace of distress from your face. You can do this, you tell yourself. Smile, play pretend. A few drinks, some dumplings, yakitori – two, three hours max.

Nothing’s changed.

The alphas want Ayako. Ayako wants these alphas.

In spite of that, in spite of the blushing and fawning and big, lovely doe eyes that bat ever so prettily for her alphas, she’ll hold true to her promise if you ask it of her. 

No questions asked, without an ounce of resentment, she’d walk away from them. She’d choose you. 

It’d be a few weeks of moping around, picking each other up and dusting yourselves off. There’ll be other packs. Aya’s got a few years yet before her heats really become an issue. You can always try again.

The thing is… you don’t want to anymore.

They like you as a friend. You’re in the way. They wanna fuck you, but only if the omega’s otherwise occupied. You can take care of the household stuff during heats and ruts, right? Maybe one day there could be something more. 

They wouldn’t look twice if it wasn’t for Ayako. 

Every time it hurts, like clawing out pieces of yourself, and you just… you can’t anymore. You won’t.

So tonight, you’ll be the bestie. Let her have her fun, flirt with the big, strong alphas she’s so enamoured by, and then tomorrow… tomorrow you’ll find a way to cut yourself loose from all of this. Aya gets her pack and you can find a nice, normal beta to settle down with. You’ll both be happier for it in the long run. 

Wiping a smudge of mascara from under your eye, you suck in another fortifying breath, nodding at yourself in the mirror. A few hours of pretending is nothing. A piece of cake.

Focused entirely on the veneer you have to slip into, you don’t notice the large, muscular frame blocking the door until you quite literally collide with it.

“Oof– Sorry, my b–”

The words wither like ash on your tongue when you look up to find Ushijima standing over you.

Despite the resolution you’d come to mere moments ago, you’re not feeling particularly charitable towards the hulking behemoth of an alpha, and you have every intention of wordlessly skirting around him to head back to the table and join your friend, civility be damned. 

You make it all of a single step before a change sweeps over him and he stiffens, nostrils flaring like they had back on the court. His eyes bleed black, and that’s the only warning you get before he seizes your wrist in one giant hand and starts to haul you back into the stall, slamming the door shut behind you both. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss. 

“She scented you,” he growls, looking angrier than he did before. “You smell like omega.”

No, this isn’t anger. Not exactly. Ushijima’s shoulders heave with every breath, his whole frame almost shuddering, pulled taut like a bowstring primed to snap–

And that’s when realisation hits. 

“You’re in a rut,” you whisper, eyes going wide in horror. “Ushiji–” You don’t get to finish the sentence. 

Big should mean slow. Clumsy. Ushijima’s neither. 

In an instant he surges into motion, one hand clamping down over your mouth, the other shoving you forward, trapping you on the tips of your toes between his hulking body and the vanity that was your lifeline five minutes ago. Just like then, your hands automatically reach out, clutching the edge of the sink to steady yourself. Stupid, when the full weight of Ushijima pins you precariously in place anyway.

Your heart hammers, panic and terror clawing at your stomach. You aren’t an omega, you can’t take a knot. If Ushijima tries to fuck you like he wants – like his instincts are driving him to – he’ll tear you apart. He’ll break you. 

But if any part of the mindless, snarling alpha behind you recognises that, he doesn’t care. The warm body in his grasp smells like lilacs, like the omega outside, and that’s good enough.

He noses at your hair and pants, yanking your skirt up to rip at your underwear. The fabric gives easily.

While he rips and claws at his own clothes to free his cock, Ushijima stares at your reflection, watching you shake as the tears well up and spill over. There’s nothing human there, nothing cognizant. The black pits staring back at you are pure alpha, consumed by the need to fuck and breed. 

You have seconds – seconds – to brace yourself.

Ushijima drags the head of his cock along your slit just once, bends you over, and without warning or preamble, splits you in two. 

Omegas have slick to help with sudden ruts. You don’t. 

It doesn’t matter that you’re not prepared to take him, that it hurts worse than anything you’ve experienced before and you’re choking on tears and muffled wails. You scream into his hand and Ushijima grunts, bullying his cock into you one agonising millimetre at a time. 

He fucks into you like you’re made to take his cock, every thrust slamming you into the unforgiving edge of the sink while your legs scramble for purchase. You’re fairly sure you’re close to passing out when you feel the swell of his knot start to catch. 

Oblivious to your panic, the wheezing cries and pleas dashed against his palm, the alpha snarls in open-mouthed pleasure, his spare hand coming down to cover one of your own, braced against the sink. “Mine.”

With the added weight, the vanity unit rattles against the wall, and you pray that someone’s walking by and hears it, cares enough to come investigate.

You aren’t that lucky, though.

Ushijima hauls you back upright, and as his knot swells, thick and pulsing, stretching you to breaking point and spurts of hot cum coat your insides, you cling on to consciousness just long enough to watch him tilt your chin to the side, lap at a bead of sweat trailing down your neck, and bury his teeth in your skin. 

—

Three days after your release from hospital, you wake to Aya knocking at your bedroom.

“S’posed to be at the bakery,” you mumble, curling tighter into the warm cocoon of your sheets. Soft morning light spills into your room. You can’t be bothered reaching for your phone to see the time, however your internal clock tells you that whatever the time is, it’s too early.

Aya sighs, taking that as an invitation to slip inside and plant herself on the edge of the mattress beside you. “Soon. I swapped shifts so I could start a bit later. I didn’t want…” she seems to struggle to find the right words, her shoulders rising and falling in a helpless shrug. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

That isn’t the problem. 

“You remember the day your mom left?” The stark flinch beneath the covers must serve as answer enough. “You wouldn’t stop crying. Gran was so worried you’d make yourself sick, kept bringing you tea, bottles of water, anything to keep you hydrated.” 

An omega like her granddaughter, the last of her alphas having passed away a few years before, she’d paced fretfully outside Aya’s bedroom door for hours while you’d sobbed into your best friend’s arms, an absolute wreck. 

A bittersweet feeling floods your heart at the memory. No one ever loved you like gran did. 

Aya continues, “I made a decision that day. I wasn’t going to leave. I wasn’t going to run off with a bunch of alphas to live out some fairytale happily ever after and leave you behind. You can blame me for what happened. I get it. If I hadn’t scented you, he–” she breaks off with a sharp inhale.

He wouldn’t have tipped into a rut.

Wouldn’t have fucked you.

Knotted you.

Bit you. 

“You can blame me for it,” she repeats, though her voice shakes and her eyes shine with tears she won’t let fall. “Hate me for it if you have to, so long as you know I’m not going anywhere. You’re still my beta, my best friend. All I wanted was to keep us together.”

Aya waits for you to say something. To forgive or condemn, and you try– you genuinely do, because blaming her isn’t fair, and you could no sooner hate her than you could carve out a lung. 

Only… you open your mouth and there’s nothing. 

The way her expression collapses before she has a chance to plaster over it hits you like a punch to the stomach. 

“Alright, lovely girl. I’ll see you when I get back – four-ish probably, unless we get hit with a late rush. I’ll try and steal some of those mini strawberry cakes to bring home too, I know how much you like them,” she rambles, patting your blanket covered knee and rising to her feet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Aya–”

Already halfway to the door, she turns, perfect brow arched, “Hm?” Like she’s expecting you to ask for another blanket. Some tea. Nothing wrong, nothing amiss. 

“Love you, too.”

And it’s like the sun coming out from the clouds. Aya beams a watery smile, and quietly closes the door behind her. 

Sleep drags you back under before you hear the front door click. The doctors warned you about that; one of the many charming side effects you’d be subjected to over the next few weeks.

Bond sickness, they called it. An alpha’s bite formed a mating bond, and that bond doesn’t respond well when it’s neglected, say by putting several miles of distance between you and the alpha who marked you. For omegas it can be deadly if it goes on long enough. Alphas have a sense of it, but it doesn’t affect them in the same way. They don’t get sick. For you, it means a month or so of lethargy, aches, low grade fevers and chills, nausea, a veritable shopping list of symptoms that’ll ease and fade as the bond itself does. 

None of that had stopped one of the nurse’s at the hospital from suggesting that, despite the delicate nature of the situation, it might be beneficial for your health if you moved in with Ushijima and his pack until it did fade. 

It was Aya who’d jumped down her throat for that one. 

You were still in shock. Numb–

Except for the foreign, slow simmering anger lodged like a thorn between your ribs. A small piece of you that wasn’t you at all. 

—

Sometime around midmorning, you stir again.

There’s footsteps in the living room, pattering through towards your bedroom. Dancing on the edge of awake, your brain slow and sluggish, jumps to the most logical conclusion. 

“Aya?” 

You expect your door to open, that familiar bloom of lilacs to spill into your room along with your best friend, a bowl of noodle soup from the shop on the corner in tow, the strawberry cakes she promised earlier, extra pillows, coffee, her laptop with your favourite movie already queued up; comfort things she knows will help.

The door does swing open, and neither one of the tall, looming frames behind it belong to Aya. 

“Sorry to disappoint, little beta,” Semi drawls, crossing the threshold like he has every right to be there. “Your girlfriend’s busy, you’re gonna have to play with us instead.”

The blood in your veins runs cold. 

Drawing your legs up tight to put as much distance between you and the advancing alpha as you can, your eyes dart between the two, Tendou lingering in the doorway, fingers drumming against the jamb. 

“I didn’t report him. I’m not going to,” you tell them, clutching at the blankets around you so your hands won’t shake. “I know how it’ll go, I’m not i-interested in–”

Semi reaches your bed. That look he’d had in his eyes back at the stadium, dark, focused, predatory – it’s there again, sharp and gleaming. He’s smirking. 

“There’s no– you don’t need to threaten me, or-or try to scare me–” His knee hits the mattress and your voice jumps to a squeak as he climbs on up.

You squirm back against the headboard. Semi prowls closer. 

There’s nowhere for you to go. 

Tendou’s not so subtly placed himself between you and the exit, and even if you could launch yourself out of bed without Semi catching you – without your head spinning and stomach threatening to upheave – they’re alphas. You couldn’t outrun them on a good day, you sure as hell can’t fight them.  

“Please. You can go. I-I won’t say anything.”

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Tendou shivers, the deep red of his iris nearly swallowed by black. His fingers aren’t idly drumming anymore, they’re digging into the wood, splintering it beneath his grip. 

Inches away from you, Semi suddenly freezes, his attention snapping downwards to focus on something near his right hand. His nose wrinkles, lip curling. “You wanna know what I liked best about the omega?” he asks, lifting his gaze back to you. “I don’t think you really believed me back at the stadium.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to know. If they aren’t here to scare you into keeping your mouth shut about Ushijima, then–

A low, husky chuckle comes from the doorway. 

“When she’d show up smelling like the sea in summer.” 

He strikes hard and fast – seizing your ankle to yank you under him. His mouth finds the soft curve where your neck meets your shoulder and he bites down. Hard. 

Agony washes you over you, chased by fire. 

Panting wildly, your body locks up, arcing against him; against the warmth that crowds you, the hard muscles that cage you, the face now tucked into the crook of your neck, licking at the bloody, oozing wound. 

He’s there inside of you, too. Buried beneath your skin, brimming with smug satisfaction. 

“Bite her and we’ll take her home to the nest. I’m not fucking her here,” he calls over his shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on you. He pats your hair, strokes your cheek. “Little beta needs her mates, don’t you?”

“Course she does!”

You’re gasping for air that won’t come, trembling, heart beating so frantically inside your chest you worry it’ll give out.

Tendou, bounding over with puppy-like eagerness, jumps on the bed and shoves his fellow alpha out of the way. 

“A…ya,” you rasp, weakly pushing at the large body crawling atop yours. You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a plea, but you get the sense that it doesn’t actually matter either way. 

Semi rolls his eyes – you can feel the flicker of his irritation – while Tendou, pawing at your sleep tee, pushing it up and shoving his face into the soft skin revealed there only groans, huffing at your scent like he can’t get enough. 

“Pretty omega like her? She’ll have her own alphas to worry about,” Semi dismisses, a faint frown marring his pretty face as he zeros in on the bandage over your neck. 

A split second too late, you realise his intentions. 

“No, don’t–”

He rips off the gauze.

Ushijima’s bite is puffy and inflamed. Calloused fingertips drift over the edges of the wound, Semi’s eyes boring into you as you let out a low, anxious whine. As Tendou licks and nips at your chest, working his way upwards, the blond increases the pressure, digging in.

You choke on a cry, pleasure, rather than pain, flooding and overwhelming your senses, and deep in your core, the answering surge of rabid need rips through you so viciously it punches the air from your lungs–

“We don’t fucking share.”

You've caught Logan at a bad time. The surly mutant is a complicated man, and one with less psychological damage than him might be eager to whip it out whenever, but Logan isn't. He's busy brooding, and he's not to be interrupted when he's got a bottle in one hand and a cigar in the other.

But you need him. There's a pit in your belly that's only made worse by the scowl on his face, and your cunt aches beneath your now-slick panties for something to envelop. You're desperate for Logan to fuck you, but there's no way you'll convince him if he's not in the mood.

"I can feel you staring," He grumbles, eyes still cast to the floor as he takes another swig of burning liquor, "What do you want?"

There's no polite way to say you.

"Uhm," You shift on your feet, thighs clenched, "I'm just feeling- I'm a little, um, I-"

"Spit it out."

"I need you." You breathe, ashamed by the sentence, but Logan's face remains untouched, nothing moving but the lingering smoke from his smoldering cigar.

"I'm not in the mood." He grunts, like it isn't obvious.

"I- I know." You fall awkwardly silent again, rising onto your tiptoes and falling back to your heels. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up-

"Don't make a mess." He shifts in the chair, lowering his hips until they're level with his abdomen, offering you the best seat in the house.

He's shirtless, which means that if you can't have his cock, or his fingers, you can get the next best thing. A combination of the friction from the waistband of his jeans, and his toned abs, blanketed with coarse, wiry hair.

You mount him eagerly, which isn't hard to do seeing as his chair has no arms. It's got a back so that he can lean against it, but your support system is his chest, where you firmly plant your hands in preparation to get yourself off.

There's a dark line of hair that trails from the bottom of his navel and disappears beneath his waistband, flanked on either side with a sharp line of muscle that tapers down towards his cock in a V. His body is a work of art, and you only wish his equally gorgeous face was pointed your direction.

No matter- you won't push. You're lucky he's letting you get off on his lap, you'll take what you can get.

"Easy," He grumbles, rocked by the sudden jerk of your hips. As you settle into a steady rhythm you realize you've already failed his one directive of not making a mess, but there's no way to stop or slow the steady stream of slick that's pouring from your weeping cunt. It's sobbing, slobbering, begging for a cock, but you drag it flush against Logan's abs and mat his happy trail down with your translucent arousal.

"One fuckin' job," He gripes, reaching down to swipe two fingers through the slick that's glistening on his stomach as you find better friction near the waistband of his jeans. The texture of the denim is rough, and you realize with giddy desperation that he's getting hard in his pants despite his insistence that he wasn't in the mood.

He sticks his fingers in his mouth for a taste, his cigar left behind in its ashtray on the side table. He doesn't relinquish the bottle, but he takes equal sips of that and of the mess you're making on his abs.

Finally, thanks to the sizeable bulge in Logan's jeans, you're able to hump your way to completion on his stomach. It's not hard, considering you'd been achingly horny before, but without something inside of you your release feels empty and wasted. You'd use your fingers if you could, but you can't move your hands or you'd faceplant on Logan's chest, and you don't want to invade his space any further in case he decides your privileges have been revoked.

"Poor thing." He murmurs when your hips slow and you're panting against his chest. You glance at his face but he's staring at your cunt, not at you, "She's so hungry."

It takes him one, two, three seconds to reach for his belt, "Well, c'mon. Up now, there y'go." As you shimmy up his abdomen, slicking his happy trail up with your release once more. As soon as he's able to free his cock he slides a hand under your ass, boosting you up so that you're finally able to sink down onto his red-tipped, leaking cock.

"Jesus, she's sucking me in," He grunts, his voice gruff and ragged, "How long were you waiting to ask me?"

"Too long." You whine, pussy already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now in utter bliss from finally being penetrated after all that teasing, "I- hnngh! My toys don't work anymore. They're- they're nothing like you, I can't use them. I can't ever finish."

Logan scoffs, still in a mood as sour as the liquor on his breath, but his hands find their place on your waist as he helps bounce you on his cock, "Shame. Those were supposed to keep you busy. Guess I'll have to do it then, hm?"

You nod vigorously against the crook of Logan's neck, your nose buried where his neck meets his shoulder, and where sweat accumulates sticky on his skin. You lick it up, and Logan hisses against the mouth of his bottle as he takes another swig.