But lying beneath your panting, sweating husband as he ruts into you from behind doesn’t make even the least bit of your pussy twitch. While the foreplay started off good, it started during a moment where you were just chilling, reading a book, kind of hungry, and not in the mood for sex…but of course, your husband can’t read the room and is always thinking with his dick. 

So when he proceeds to speed up and repeat that “oh, yeah, oh, yeah” mantra that he does when he gets close, you lie there on your tummy and let it happen, just letting him enjoy it.

You feel like you owe him this. After all, you did take him away from his job and responsibilities as a businessman for a seven-day trip at a resort along the Caribbean sea. Maybe lackluster sex isn’t too bad. Not like other things in your marriage. 

And you are reminded of those things when you feel him pull out and spray his cum on your ass, stilling his hips and letting out a loud grunt as he grips your ass so tight that you wince with pain. When he finally lets out a sigh of relief, he stares down at you, a lazy smile on his face. “Did you cum?” he asks. You nod though you certainly didn’t. But you are the dutiful wife, moaning when you should and pumping up his ego. 

Satisfied, your hubby gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and rolls off of you, leaving you lying naked on the pristinely white sheets of your king-sized bed. You purposely ordered a suite for the two of you for this trip, complete with sofa bed, a vanity for your makeup, a mini-bar, and a balcony overlooking the beach. Perfect for a “baection” with your man to get your marriage back on track and spend time together…or so you thought. 

Once again, reality smacks you in the face when he moves to the edge of the bed naked, showing off his toned body. He truly is a beautiful specimen, but if any woman got him in the bedroom now, they would dumb his ass before he could bust a nut.

The sex while you were dating was quite good, but now? He barely takes the time to make you cum. One could argue that it’s because of his demanding career, but you always take the time to make him “arrive” when you are intimate. 

But him? Crickets. Not to mention no consideration for your pleasure, no care, and no spark. You can’t remember the last time he even attempted to make you cum!

And then…there is the worse part. You turn over on your side as he slides on his robe. “You’re not gonna cuddle?” you disappointedly ask. Your husband pulls a face like he doesn’t believe you’re serious. “You know I don’t cuddle after sex, Y/N. It’s nasty.” 

You scowl at him. He didn’t used to be like this at all. He used to snuggle with you afterwards. Now after sex he is more concerned about cumming and then cleaning up, barely regarding you as his wife. “And cumming on my ass isn’t?” you ask, your tone snipped. He pauses from tying his robe and grimaces. “Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to join me, but not with that attitude.” 

You rise from your position and get under the covers, the cool sheets feeling like silk against your naked body. “I’m sorry, I just…we never cuddle anymore. I thought this trip would change that.”

Your husband only sighs as if you pouring your heart out to him is more of an inconvenience to his shower than not. “We can cuddle after my shower, Y/N. Don’t be so impatient.” 

And then he is gone, disappearing into the bathroom and leaving you alone to feel hurt. And then that hurt stews into irritation. When you hear the water running, it steams just as your anger does.

You start to wonder what you did any of this for. Stressing over the best resorts and just to appease a husband who could care less about the waning romance in your marriage? Four years together, one year married, and all of it hanging on a thin thread because he refuses counseling, therapy, or to talk about your issues. 

Your anger pushes you to rise from the prison of the bed, wipe your hubby’s spunk off your ass with some tissues, and get dressed in your brand new bikini. It is a vibrant yellow that makes your brown skin pop and makes your ass look absolutely delectable. It is among one of the pieces of sexy vacation outfits that you brought along for this vacation. After dressing, you begin packing your beach bag, barely turning around when you hear the shower shut off and footsteps approach. 

“Hey, where ya goin’?” your husband asks as if he didn’t just reject you. You don’t turn around as you toss sun tan oil and a romance book in your bag. “I’m going to the pool,” you snippily reply. “Alone.” 

Your husband is silent, watching you pack. “But I thought we were gonna cuddle.” You scoff, finally turning to face him dripping wet in his towel. “Well, we could’ve, but you wanted to shower first after fucking me when I told you about three times that I wasn’t in the mood.” 

You watch his face change from confusion to irritation. Yet another fight and you’ve only been on this ship for a day! “So now I’m the bad guy now?” he scoffs. “You always do this, Y/N. You always wanna twist shit around on me when you don’t get your way!” 

You tilt your head at him, glaring daggers. “When I don’t get my way?” you parrot, enraged.

You could smack him with the sunscreen you’re holding gripped in your hand. “All I did was ask for a fucking snuggle with my husband who only shows me affection when he’s got his dick in me.” 

“That isn’t true!” he barks. You scoffingly laugh. “Oh, it’s not? I had to beg you to come on this vacation just to try to re-spark our romance…and you didn’t even wanna do that!”

You had been planning your introduction to the idea for months, praying that he would agree. He only agreed when you mentioned that you would pay for it and all he had to do was take off for the week. Thank God for your high-paying job and you saving up money for this trip. 

Your husband stands before you now, fuming and fumbling for something to say. You continue to pack until completion and grab your wedges and key card before putting on your sunglasses. “I’ll be back up later,” you grumble. “Don’t wait up.” And you leave him standing in his towel, shutting the hotel door behind you before venturing off to the pool for a cool dip and a cool drink. 

Your pool time to decompress proves to be a good plan. Deciding that the pool is too crowded for your liking, you head to the adults-only area complete with two bars, hot tubs, and ocean views galore. You go to the bar to order yourself a pretty and strong cocktail to take the last ten minutes out of your head.

As you sip on your drink with its pineapple and orange wedges on the glass, your phone rings in your bag. You fish it out, grinning as your friend’s name flashes across the screen. Thank God for the wi-fi package. “Heeeey, babes!” she shouts when you answer. Hearing her voice makes you homesick instantly. “Hey, babes,” you greet. “God, am I happy to hear from you.” 

“I guess the plan isn’t going well,” she replies. “I was gonna ask how your trip is.” 

You cross your legs on the stool, showing off your legs and skin glowing with sun tan oil for all to see. “Oh, I’m loving it, but not being in the same room with a man who won’t even cuddle me after fucking me.” You have admitted some things to your friend about your romance issues in your marriage, but not this. 

“Daaamn, it’s like that?!” she gasps. “Girl, you should've been divorced that loser! I don’t know why you’re even bothering with this BS. You’ve only been married for a year!” 

She’s been telling you this since you got married, reluctantly becoming your maid of honor despite her clear disdain for your fiancé. “But we’ve been together for four,” you remind her. “I can’t just walk away from that. When things are tough in a long term relationship, you try to work ‘em out!” 

‘Until you can’t anymore,’ a little voice in your head remarks. ‘And maybe you’ve reached that limit.’ You wipe the thought away with another sip of your cocktail, your tastebuds exploding with the taste of rum and guava fruit. 

“Yes, but why bother if you’re not happy?” your friend asks. “I mean, are you doing any of this because of you or him?” 

You stop short, thinking about this. Is any of this for you anymore? What about your happiness? Your feelings? “This is for both of us,” you finally reply. “I can’t go on like this anymore. No touching, kissing, or romance…” 

Lately, it’s been happening more since your husband’s promotion as you expressed to your friend months before. The dates have been dwindling, the connection is fading, and the sex is less than enjoyable. You aren’t happy, but you aren’t willing to give up either. 

“How’s he been on the trip?” your friend asks. You use your straw to stir the ice around in your glass. “Just not paying much attention to me, drinking a lot…looking at other women.”

You wince as your friend begins to explode with rage. “EXCUSE ME?!” she bellows. “Oh, heeeell no! You’re gonna have to get even, girl. If he’s gonna do what he wants on this trip, so will you.” 

“What does that mean?” you ask, not entirely sure you want to know the answer. She is happy to elaborate regardless: “It means finding the hottest guy there and getting some vacay dick, no strings attached.” 

You nearly choke on the bit of pineapple wedge you bite into. “I can’t cheat on my husband!” you hiss into the phone. “What kinda girl do you think I am?!” 

Your friend huffs in response. “Fine, then just flirt. Y/N, this is about your enjoyment too! You’re there for another six days, so why not make the most of it with an international stud?” 

You can’t believe you're hearing this. You must have heatstroke. “You’re insane,” you scoff. “I can’t just pick some random guy and—“ You cut yourself off reaching across the bar for a napkin only for your hand to brush against someone else’s. 

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp. “I wasn’t paying any….” Your words immediately die when you catch a glimpse of the red-hot stud sitting next to you at the bar. Literally, his long hair is red-hot, cascading down to his broad shoulders and chest exposed through the few unbuttoned buttons to his Hawaiian top. He is a big guy, at least six-foot something and all muscle as he sits in the stool next to you, bigger than you even while sitting down.

Your eyes trail down to his red trunks hanging loosely from his muscular thighs and calves right down to his big feet in his open-toe slides. Your eyes lecherously slide back up to his beefy arms, one of them inked with a sleeve, and the sharp, toothy smile he gives you. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he replies, his crimson eyes kind, sparkling in the summer sun. “It’s my bad. I was actually gonna ask what drink that was.” You are so gobsmacked by this sexy stranger than you barely hear your friend screaming at you. “Y/N?!” she screeches. “Who is that?! Is he hot?!” 

“Gottagocallyoulaterloveyabye,” you say in a rush before hanging up. The red-hot stranger continues to smile, making you sweat more than the hot rays above. “U-Uh, it’s called a Sex On The Beach.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach curl. Even his laugh is sexy! “Interesting drink name,” he chuckles. “I heard they have a Cherry Popper and somethin’ called a Pink Pussy here too. Bakugou likes those.” 

“Bakugou?” you question. He tuts, smacking himself on the forehead with a sheepish smile. “Oh, sorry; my husband.” 

Your eyes glide down to the gold band on one of his thick ring fingers. Of course, he’s married. “Oh,” you sigh, wilting in disappointment…but why? You’re married! “I’ll have to try those ones. My husband ain’t a fan of cocktails like that; he calls them girly.” 

You may as well let the stranger know that you’re married too. It’s only right…right? “Girly or not, they’re still hella good!” he laughs. “I know me and my man don’t care. I’m Kirishima, by the way.” He sticks one of his big, calloused, scarred hands out for a shake. You ignore the way your pulse jumps as your palm connects with his. 

Kirishima? Where have you heard that name before? Suddenly, it clicks. “Wait, are you—“ 

“Red Riot?” he chuckles. “Just don’t blow my cover. I think the Hawaiian shirt is working.” You are shocked. You’ve never met a celebrity before, let alone a pro hero. You’re not used to seeing him without his gear either! 

“It’s a pleasure, Red Riot,” you whisper, once again shaking his hand. It’s really just an excuse to feel his calloused palm gripped in yours again. “So you guys are here on a much-needed vacation?” you ask, sipping on your drink.

“Emphasis on ‘much-needed’,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Plus it’s our fifth year wedding anniversary and we wanted to celebrate. We’ve been together since our UA days.” 

High school sweethearts?! You could melt right here on your stool. “That’s so sweet!” you coo, raising your glass to him. “Well, happy anniversary to the both of you.” The redheaded hunk smiles, blinding you. “Well, thank you…uh…” 

“Y/N,” you introduce. “L/N.” The pro’s raises his sexy, pierced brow in interest. “Full government?” he chuckles. “Ejirou Kirishima then. My friends call me—“ 

“Oi, shitty hair!” someone barks from the lounge chairs. “What’s the hold up?! You went to get drinks five minutes ago!” You turn your head to the rough n’ gruff-sounding voice, nearly dropping your drink at the sight of the platinum blonde stud standing before you. 

He is ALL man, just as his husband is: big, tall, all muscle, and all tattoos. In opposition to his husband, Dynamight has two sleeves plus a large dragon tattoo snaking around his left slave. Its tail trails up to his orange swim trunks that match the black skull tank top he wears. 

Despite the Raybans covering his eyes, you can tell his eyes are as intense as his handsome face etched in seriousness is. The sun glows against his blonde undercut and the piercings glinting in his ears. His plump bottom lip and brow are pierced as well, definitely exposing you for your fetish. 

The redhead turns to you with a smirk. “It’s Kiri, actually,” he whispers. He then rises to greet his husband, smiling extra big. “Sorry, babe; I got caught up talkin’ to my new friend here. Y/N, this is my husband Katsuki Bakugou.” 

When Bakugou finally stops in front of you, you have to use every ounce of energy to appear normal while sitting with the two mountain-sized pros while they stand over you. Bakugou takes his shades off, putting them on his forehead. Those vermillion eyes are like lasers, intensified by Bakugou’s brooding look your way. His stare is hotter than the damn sun and you lose your cool. 

“N-Nice to meet you,” you stammer. You stick your hand out for a shake. Bakugou stares at it for a brief moment before he takes it in his inked hand. “Likewise. You tryin’ to steal my husband from me?” His expression is so steely that you nearly miss the quirk at the corner of his mouth. 

“He’s joking,” Kiri chuckles, nudging Bakugou in the arm. “Don’t scare the poor lady! I was just telling Y/N here that we’re on our anniversary trip.” Bakugou rolls his eyes but his cheeks are flushed pink. “Ya might as well tell it to everybody on this fuckin’ island.” 

Kiri laughs, pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek. “So are you here on your own anniversary trip?” the redhead curiously asks. You mentioned your hubby.” 

“Oh, uh…” You freeze, thinking of something to answer with. “Maybe with friends?” Kiri adds. “Family? Or a solo traveler? Which would be cool too!” 

“Jesus, shitty hair, what’s with the third degree?” Bakugou criticizes, glaring at his husband through his shades. The redhead goes red in the face, somehow making himself look sexier. “Sorry. I might’ve had too much before this.” 

“I’m here with my husband,” you finally answer. “Nothing too special.” You take a sip of your drink to cool yourself down and give yourself some liquid courage. Discussing your marriage woes with strangers isn’t ideal for a starter convo for you, yet here you are. The couple look confused and quite perturbed at your statement. “What does that mean?” Bakugou asks, raising a pierced brow at you. 

You shrug, feeling hot all over and the breeze from the ocean provides no comfort. You shouldn’t have talked. “Just that it’s not an anniversary trip or a honeymoon. It was my idea for a vacation.” You almost say that the entire trip came out of your pocket as well. “We’ve been together for four years, married for one.” 

“Well, that’s somethin’ to celebrate!” Kiri exclaims, obviously trying to lighten things up. “And if you’re thinkin’ up fun trips like this, he should feel lucky to have you.” The genuine nature of his tone and the kindness in his eyes nearly make you fold. “You wouldn’t be the first to think that,” you bashfully reply, “but thank you.” 

Kiri looks like he wants to say more but a tray of shot glasses wedged with lime and filled with clear liquid stops him short. “Shots on the house for the happy couple?” the bartender asks with a grin. When he motions to you with the tray, you realize with horror what he’s referring to. “O-Oh, we’re not—“ 

“Don’t be so coy, honey,” Kiri laughs, giving you a wink. “Thanks, sir! We’d love free shots!” He takes the tray from the bartender with no problem and gives him a thankful grin. You stare at him, wondering what in the world just happened and if you’re possibly hallucinating. Bakugou nudges your hip with his, smirking. “Don’t think nothin’ of it. You looked like you needed some tequila.” 

He passes you a shot, the strong aroma nearly singeing your nostril hairs. An open invitation. After all, how often do you find yourself drinking with celebrities? Let alone pro heroes? And it is a vacation. “I guess I do,” you giggle, taking the shot from his thick fingers. You ignore the way your stomach flip flops as your fingertips brush his. “Cheers then!” 

Bakugou’s eyes are full of mirth and interest. “To what?” he asks. You give him a secretive smile, placing a lime wedge in your mouth and sucking on it. You think the couple’s eyes flitting down to your mouth is just a trick of the sun. “To an unforgettable trip,” you respond. 

Clink! 

The three of you clink shots and down them in unison, laughing when Kiri coughs his lungs out. For the next fifteen minutes or so while Kiri orders cocktails for himself and Bakugou, you chat. 

You learn about Musutafu, their home in Japan, is riddled with even more pro heroes than in the U.S. 

You learn about Kiri’s love for spicy foods and Bakugou’s secret obsession with the manga series 

‘A Sign of Affection’ that you both gush over. You tell them about your job and daily life; your likes and dislikes; your relationship with your husband. 

You notice the way Kiri keeps a hand on Bakugou’s knee while sitting to stop him from bouncing it so much. Your eyes catch the way Bakugou’s fingers toy with the hair at the nape of Kiri’s neck. Little things like this make you envious. Not just of them, but of the fact that you can’t join in such PDA. Your husband would never hear of it. 

By the time the convo comes to an end, you feel that buzz and rush of warmth from your drink and three tequila shots. And that recklessness that causes you to eye the couple’s crotches too much.

You should lay down before you do something you’ll regret. “You two should probably head back to your seats,” you tell the couple. “That family with the five kids looks awfully desperate for a chair.” You nod at the stressed-looking couple hollering at their kids to pick up their beach towels and stop fighting. 

Bakugou grumbles something, already getting up to lay claim on their chairs. “Well, maybe we’ll see you around again,” Kiri says with a smile. “Me and Bakugou are thinkin’ of going to Club Paradise. You should bring your man along.” You blink in confusion before your brain, fuzzy from the tequila and the couples’ mixed cologne, realizes that he means the resort’s nightclub. 

“Or just bring yourself,” Bakugou cuts in, not even caring how this suggestion sounds. “Sounds like your man is a wet blanket…no offense.” He shrugs passively though he doesn’t look like he’s that apologetic.

You’re sure the tipsy details you provided to them about your hubby doesn’t help: he doesn’t dance, he hates going out, and he’s all about work. “It’s fine,” you chuckle. “He might be interested, but we’ll see. I’ll give it some thought.” 

“You should,” Kiri replies, unintentionally flexing as he stretches. You do your best to not stare. “A good drink and a dance always helps to…ease the tension.” Your ears perk at the way he says the last three words: seductive. Suggestive. A hot promise lying between the lines. If he meant it to come off this way, he succeeded because your body instantly responds. 

“Especially with good company, I’m sure,” you say, shocking yourself by flirting back. Even more so with the way you stare straight at Kiri and Bakugou while you say it, memorizing their eye color for later. The two look like they want to say more to you, but they are interrupted by two pineapples being shoved at them. 

“For Mr. Kirishima?” the bartender calls. Their drinks are done which means they are leaving now. You feel a pang of disappointment, but it ebbs somewhat when Kiri shoots you a smile. “See ya around, Y/N,” he says before walking off with his husband. As they leave, Bakugou turns back to look at you, his crimson eyes playing with you over the rim of his shades. 

When you turn around to order a cool drink of water (because you desperately need it), your bikini bottoms feel sticky and you’re bothered. Extremely bothered. Especially when you sense that the couple is still eyeing you down from the back. Your nipples tingle beneath your bikini top and everything feels too stimulating. You haven’t had any guy make you feel this horny in years, let alone your husband! 

Maybe you will take your friend’s advice tonight. There is no shame in flirting and having a little fun that doesn’t involve infidelity. Luckily for you, your husband has the same idea that the hot couple did: a night at Paradise.

When you go back upstairs for a shower and a nap, he peppers you in apologetic kisses. “I thought a lot about what you said earlier and I wanna make it up to you. Tonight will just be about you and me.” You believe him when he says this, trusting his word….until you actually get there. 

After a shower, a nap, and some dinner at the buffet, you dress in your vacation clubbing finest: a short, backless dress that ties at the neck and some strapped gold heels with your white toes out. You leave your braids down, spray some fruity body mist on your skin, slather your body in shimmery oil, and you feel delicious as you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

You wonder, briefly, if the sexy couple you met earlier will think so too. You’d be lying if you said you aren’t looking forward to seeing them tonight if they come. It’s the only thing worth staying for as you watch your drunk husband flirt with an Amazonian woman with the skin-tight dress, spray tan, and veneers right in your face. You can’t even enjoy the beautiful, tropical ambience or the music because of how irritated you are. 

First, your husband decided to pre-game by ordering a whiskey with dinner. Now he’s here barely spending time with you when you look like a whole snack and disrespecting you?! He wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t pay for the trip!

The woman gives a raucous laugh at something he says, her teeth reminding you of a camel’s. “I can’t believe you live so close to me! What’s it like there? Are the guys as handsome as you?” 

Your husband grins, sloppy and proud. You decide you’ve had enough and stroll up to them, putting a possessive hand on his shoulder. “Yes, they are,” you reply to the irritated woman. You whip your husband around to face you, fixing his collar. “Babe, why don’t we go get some drinks? There’s tons of cheap choices.” 

At the mention of more booze, he nods and goes into his shorts for his wallet. Then he pats himself down. Then he checks his phone. “Shit, I left my card in the room,” he huffs. “Why don’t you get the drinks, babe? You’ve got your money, right?” You stare at him, your anger boiling like hot soup. “You left your credit card upstairs?” you hiss. 

“But it was your idea to come here. Not mine.” Your husband begins to look around the room, concerned about other people but not you. “Listen, let’s not do this here, especially in public. Just get us some drinks and we can discuss this later.”

He gives you a look like he isn’t down with your “BS” tonight and you quickly storm off, heading to the bar. You could leave him standing here if you wanted to. Then he can be concerned with what other people think. 

You are so angry that you nearly miss someone calling your name from the end of the bar. You look and your heart flips at the sight of the sexy couple that have been invading your thoughts since your first meeting at the pool.

Both are wearing Hawaiian shirts in differing ways (Kiri’s is slightly unbuttoned at the chest while Bakugou keeps his open to expose his white wife beater underneath) and shorts that don’t drag your attention to their dicks at all. 

“Hey, you made it!” Kiri announces, looking overjoyed to see you. Bakugou sits on a stool, a smirk playing on his juicy-looking lips. “So she decided to show up. Where’s your husband at?” 

He looks around the club glowing with pink and purple lights shaped like palm leaves.

“Oh, chatting away with new friends,” you passively reply, so glad that you sprayed yourself with your favorite body mist. “So nice to see you two again.” Bakugou shrugs, his eyes flitting across your form. “Well, we did say we’d be here.” 

“Correction: I said we MIGHT show up,” Kiri states, earning an eye roll from his husband. “But now that you’re here, I’m glad we decided to come tonight. You look great.” His crimson eyes drink in your outfit and legs glowing with shimmery, gold oil, much to your satisfaction. “You two don’t look too bad yourselves,” you flirt, shooting them both a smile. “The Hawaiian print fits you.” 

“Bakugou hates it,” Kiri whispers, making you giggle. He raises a brow at you, curious. “So your man sent you to get drinks? Or are you just that independent?” 

You can tell he is trying to joke with you, but knows that your answer is the latter. “Both,” you sigh. “He’s a little occupied right now, but he wanted us to come here tonight. Something we could both do together.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. What a crock of shit. “And where’s he at now?” Bakugou wonders aloud, still looking around the room. Why he wants to meet your spouse so badly is beyond you. “He should be right…”

You turn, pointing an acrylic nail behind you at the spot where your husband was before…but he is gone. Your stomach drops and you begin to look around the club at unfamiliar faces. He couldn’t have…he wouldn’t… 

Then you hear his ridiculous, drunk laugh and peer across the dance floor where he is sitting in a wicker chair with another woman with enough Botox in her face that her muscles don’t move. You feel your anger reach its breaking point. He left you. He left you.

“Hold my spot,” you growl to the couple, and then you’re storming off, titties and hair angrily bouncing as you do. Your eyes are set dead on your husband, ready to tear him a new one. 

When you finally stop in front of him, it takes him a while to even register your presence. In the time you were at the bar, he has gotten even drunker, his collar askew and his eyes glassy. “There you are!” he exclaims.

You place a hand on your hip, glaring down at him. “And here you are, abandoning me and talking to a chick who isn’t your wife.” 

The Botox woman’s face pales and she scowls at your man. “Your wife?” she scoffs. “You didn’t tell me you were married! Where’s your wedding band?!” Your eyes shoot down to his hand. Sure enough, it’s gone. He took it off. 

“That was just so I wouldn’t lose it!” your husband quickly protests. He stands and puts his hands up as if calming a crazed animal. “Relax, babe. She’s just interested in a possible investment in my company.” You cut your eyes to the woman sipping her martini, looking like a kid caught in the cookie jar. “Oh, I’m sure she is,” you mutter. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

You turn and begin to walk off, but you hear your husband sigh, “Oh, here we go”. That enrages you even further. You storm off to a secluded area in the club, arms crossed and fuming. Your husband follows, looking aloof to your rage. “What’d I do now, Mommy?” he drunkenly asks.

You shove him, earning a few looks of interest and alarm. “Don’t talk to me like that!” you hiss. “How could you just abandon me like that in a place I’m unfamiliar with and with people that I don’t know?!” 

Your husband glares at you, confused and irritated. “I didn’t abandon you! You were getting the drinks!” 

But you barely listen to this half-assed argument, firing off like a firecracker. “That’s the other thing; you wanted to come here tonight and you left the room without your money. So now your wife has to pay for everything while you get drunk off of my dime and flirt with other women.”

You flash your hand at him where your diamond ring glistens. “And I didn’t leave my ring either!” 

Your husband rolls his eyes, his face growing red. “I wasn’t flirting with—“ 

“Oh, save it!” you snap. “Or were you too trashed those other times too that you don’t even remember?” He pulls a face, looking at you as if you’re the crazy one. “What is this about, Y/N? Why are you being this way?”

You can feel tears pushing at your tear ducts, but you push them away; you refuse to cry in public. “I wanted to come on this trip for us to get closer,” you lament. “For us to build that romance again; that spark that we’re missing! And you’re not even trying even a little bit!” 

And instead of showing you compassion and understanding, your husband continues to neglect and invalidate your feelings. “Listen…I don’t know what you want me to fucking do,” he tiredly sighs. “I can’t be the perfect man that you’re looking for, Y/N. He doesn’t exist.” 

‘Clearly,’ you bitterly think. He has shown you that. 

“I do everything for you and this is how you repay me,” he scoffs, still scowling. “Well, fine, if you feel that way, I’ll just leave you be.” He takes a step back and then turns around, walking towards the exit. Your eyes widen at him, gobsmacked. “Wait, you’re leaving?” you gasp. “You can’t be serious. You’re gonna leave me here alone?” 

Then your husband turns around and you think he’s going to apologize; to tell you he is just joking…but then he motions his hands at you in a ‘shoo, shoo’ motion as if you are a mere, pesky fly. “Come upstairs when you’re done acting like a bitch to me,” he cooly says. And then he leaves you alone for good, standing in the club completely humiliated and heartbroken. 

Luckily, someone comes to your rescue to save you from your heartbreak. They tap you on the shoulder and you turn to see Kiri standing there with a gigawatt smile on his handsome face. “Excuse me, miss; me and my husband saw you across the bar and really dug your vibe. Can we buy you a drink?”

He gives you a wink that somehow masks the heartbreak you’re feeling. “Just make sure it’s strong,” you joke back. 

He begins to lead you back to the bar where Bakugou sits, sipping on a mai tai. “Did you find your husband?” Kiri asks, taking the mojito that Bakugou passes to him. “Where’s he at? I thought we were meeting him.”

You stare warily at the pros, biting back tears. “Uh…he wasn’t feeling too good and went upstairs,” you lie. 

Bakugou sees right through it like it’s glass. He takes a final sip of his drink, draining the glass, and nearly slams it on the bar. “Y’know, you’re just as bad as this one when you lie,” he roughly says, nudging Kiri in the arm. “Eyes goin’ off to the side, a little pause like you’re thinkin’ of somethin’ on the spot…you’re not slick.” 

You feel your body flush under the strobe lights. ‘Oh, no,’ you think, lamenting to yourself. ‘Now he’s gonna ask you why you lied, you dummy!’ 

But to your surprise, Bakugou leans one beefy, inked arm over the bar, waving down the bartender. “But if you’re truly hellbent on coverin’ your man’s back, we won’t push it. If anything, I respect it…can’t understand why the goofy left you here though.” He waves a hand again at the bartender, growing irritated at being ignored. 

“Yeah,” Kiri agrees, standing behind Bakugou’s stool and rubbing his shoulders to calm him. He is so tall that he towers over you, somehow making you feel more safe than intimidated by his sheer size. “It’s kinda weird he would just leave without you, unless he had food poisoning or somethin’.” 

Maybe it’s the hot wash of lights or the men accompanying you, but you feel the truth push at your throat. “He didn’t,” you admit. The couple immediately turn their attention to you. “I caught him talking to another woman, we had a fight, and then he left.” 

Kiri blinks his crimson eyes at you. “He left you alone?” he asks in disbelief. “Here?”

You slowly nod, biting your lower lip to keep from crying in front of these two strangers. “He told me to come upstairs when I stopped being a bitch,” you add, cracking a wry smile at the two. “Can you believe this is my marriage?” You laugh it off, but the couple can tell that it is fake and icy.

“Shit, I already thought the guy was a loser; now, it’s a fact for sure,” Bakugou grumbles. 

“Leaving your wife or girlfriend in the middle of a club is NOT manly,” Kiri growls, eyes flashing with anger. “Good thing we’re with you. We can keep you company as long as you’re here!”

Bakugou passes Kiri's mojito to you, coaxing you to sip. “And you can tell us more about this asshole you decided to marry.” He bangs on the bar, scaring a few people. “Yo, bartender! You’re about to lose your tip!” 

You take a tiny sip of the mojito, your tastebuds exploding with the taste of mint, lime, and rum. Kiri pats the empty stool beside Bakugou and you sit, crossing one leg over the other, your dress riding up slightly on your thighs. Kiri sits on your left, sandwiching you between himself and his husband. 

The bartender returns, sweating slightly and out of breath. “Apologies, Mr. Bakugou! Free rounds for the happy couple?” The couple turn to look at you, asking you in silence. “It’s free rounds, darlings,” you giggle, flipping your braids over one shoulder. “I’d be happy to share…and a rum punch too, please!”  

Two rum punches and three tequila shots later, you are spilling your guts to the couple. The three of you sit in a secluded lounge area overlooking the beach, the silver moon glowing off of the waves softly crashing on the shore.

Most people are on the dance floor or at the bar, so you have privacy with the two hunks who sit across from you in lounge chairs. You sit on a small hammock held between two fake palm trees, talking on and on about your husband’s neglect and bummy, crummy ways. 

Through it all, the couple stay quiet, paying close attention to you. You appreciate their listening ears, feeling better just getting it all out.

“So we packed up and came on this vacay in the hopes of rekindling our romance,” you explain, nursing a glass of water that Bakugou ordered for you. “It was my idea and he went along with it, but…now I’m thinking that this was a total waste of time.” You place a hand on your head, mostly because it is spinning but also because you feel so stupid. 

“For him?” Kiri says, sipping his second mojito. “I’d have to say yes; there is NO gettin’ through a guy like that, sweetheart. But a trip like this for yourself is never a waste! You come here to enjoy the pool, the excursions, and makin’ new friends like us.” 

You laugh, finding his words adorable. “We’re friends?” you giggle, not realizing how this sounds: like you want to be more. “Well, I guess only friends would buy me drinks and listen to me trauma dump.” 

Bakugou clucks his tongue, rolling his vermillion eyes. His eyes are so pretty…like rubies. “It’s not trauma dumping if we wanna hear it, silly girl.” Kiri nods, agreeing. “Bakugou’s right, sweetheart. We like you; plus, you’re the first girl we’ve met here that isn’t tryin’ to have a threesome with us.” 

He doesn’t know how wrong he is. And if he keeps calling you ‘sweetheart’, who knows what will happen next. “I like you guys too,” you admit, flushing bashfully. “You make a cute couple; I’m almost jealous!” 

Bakugou cracks a humored smile, sipping a piña colada now. “Well, don’t be. The bartenders already think we’re together.” His tongue glints with something–a piercing, you realize–as he toys with the straw in his glass. 

Suddenly, a thought pops into your head that you have no business saying aloud: “Wouldn’t it be funny if we acted as a couple this whole trip just for the hell of it? Two sexy husbands and their pretty wife?” You begin to laugh a little too much, your cheeks hurting and tears pricking at your lashes coated in mascara. 

When you stop, you realize that the couple aren’t laughing. They’re just staring dead at you. “Yeah,” Kiri deadpans. “Hilarious.” 

Suddenly, the air feels tense and the magic from the alcohol is fading. You don’t feel sexy or confident anymore; just awkward. You take a couple sips of the water and place it on the “W-Well, it’s getting late and my husband is probably wondering where I am.” 

“No, he’s not,” Bakugou argues. The finality in his tone stops you short, rendering you speechless. “Any dickhead who leaves his wife alone in a club isn’t thinkin’ ‘bout her well-being at all.” His gaze is intense and unwavering as he stares at you over his glass rim. “Sorry to break it to ya, babe.” 

Babe? Sweetheart? What the fuck is going on here? ….And why are you so okay with it? You’re so wrapped up in decoding this situation when suddenly, the couple leave their post and come to sit with you in the hammock. Gently, they both climb in and sandwich you between them, their tree-trunk legs dangling off of the side with you. 

“So why not spend the night with two guys who actually want your attention?” Bakugou asks, his lips just a little too close to your ear. You suddenly lose the ability to function like a human being. “W-What?” you stammer, turning to the blonde. “What do you–” 

“You know what I mean,” he interjects. “Can you really sit here and act like you don’t want us too?” One of his hands lays on your knee, making your skin tingle. 

“We’ve been watchin’ you for awhile now,” Kiri confesses, his hand brushing your fingertips. “It wasn’t our intention to ever do anything with another person on this trip, but when we saw you at the pool…” He pauses, taking a breath. “Shit, Y/N, our want for you was instant.” Your pussy gushes at his sinful confession, leaving your thighs trembling.  

“And when we found out your bitch ass husband left you alone here?” Bakugou’s lips stretch into a smile, his eyes mischievous. “It was a wrap.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Out of anyone else in here, these two happily married men want you tonight? 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Kiri gently says, taking your silence for discomfort. “If intimacy isn’t on the table for you, we can just stay here, share some drinks, and dance…or if you really feel uncomfortable, just tell us and we’ll leave you be. Your comfort matters to us, Y/N.”

This man barely knows you and he is showing you more consideration than your husband has in months. Bakugou’s lips brush against your ear, the smell of mint and rum on his tongue. “Either way, we wanna make your husband regret ever leaving you here alone tonight,” he murmurs. “So what’s it gonna be, little one?”

Little one. How did he know that name makes you wet?

You have never been hornier than you are right now sitting between these two studs. The tequila and rum you’ve consumed over the hour helps too. It helps you make the first move by turning towards Kiri, cupping his face in his hands, and pressing your lips to his. He makes a small noise of surprise before he melts into your kiss, his soft lips moving against yours. “Mmm,” he hums against your lips, the sound seducing you. 

When you pull away, his crimson eyes are dazed and hooded. You then turn to Bakugou who watches with bated breath. “You get one too, Dynamight,” you giggle before your lips are crushed against his. Just like his hubby, Bakugou’s kiss causes sparks to ignite in the air and your arousal to switch to hyperdrive. The yearning you feel for these two is instantaneous and intense.

When you pull away, you take their hands in both of yours and interlace your fingers. “So I guess it’s your room then, boys?” you seductively ask, peering up at them through your lashes. 

Somehow, moments later, you find yourself in between the two married pros on a big bed, stark naked and their big, hard, throbbing, pretty cocks stiff in your hands as you stroke them up and down, up and down. You keep your dress on, but your straps were tugged off by Bakugou to expose your tits while Kiri stripped off your heels, blushing as he told you how pretty your feet were. 

You pay close attention to their luscious moans and responsive hums of pleasure as your hands, slick with your saliva, twist around the base as you scale them up to their bulbous tips dripping in pre all for you. You take a couple licks at the white pearls, smiling as their moans grow louder at the feeling of your tongue on them. They felt your tongue minutes before once they stripped, letting you indulge in every rippling muscle they had. 

When they finally took off their pants, you were amazed. While both big and veiny, they have their differences too: Bakugou is smooth and curves upward while Kiri is thick, has a happy trail, and has a dick piercing. You gaped at both of them while the two softly chuckled, finding your reaction endearing.

“I’m guessin’ your man is lackin’ in this department?” Bakugou asked, his hand curling in your braids. Staring at the cock in your face, you silently nodded. Severely, your husband was lacking.

Tap-tap.

Bakugou tapped his tip slightly against your lips, his hooded eyes exploding with lust. “Well? You just gonna stare or take care of ‘em?” Kiri bit his lip and watched, silently urging you to do as you wanted to his dick. 

You do just that, sliding Bakugou’s hard cock into your mouth while you continue to stroke Kiri, loving their eyes on you as you take the blonde deeper, hollowing your cheeks. You raise your eyes to him, watching his handsome face flush red as he watches you throat him, his hips slowly grinding to push himself deeper. “Ah, shit,” he sighs, his eyes sexily rolling back to show the whites and red tendrils of his eyeballs.  

Kiri toothily grins at his husband fucking your mouth, still slowly fucking your hand. “Feelin’ good, Kats?” he chuckles. “Me too. She’s bein’ such a good girl, isn’t she?” He sticks two fingers under your chin to catch the drool that has begun to drip down from your lips and sucks your saliva off of them, staring straight at you as he does. 

“Almost,” Bakugou replies, laughing to himself. “She needs to take this dick a little more.” So he speeds up, increasing his speed so the sounds of you gagging and your wet throat flexing around his cock are more intense and lively, causing him to groan.

“Open wide, baby,” he grunts. “Open that throat up for me.” You’re feeling good and used now as he begins to fuck your face, ruining your lip gloss and staining your cheeks with mascara. 

“God, yes, baby!” he groans. “Deeper. Take me deeper.”

You don’t know how much deeper he can go. Your eyes sting with tears as you feel your throat protest against being filled, causing you to gag more. But you push through, breathing through your nostrils and letting the pro fuck your jaw off of its hinges, your spit dripping down to your tits from your chin. 

“Don’t make her choke now, Kats,” Kiri says, though his cock throbs in your palm at the sight of you gagging on husband’s dick. “I still need my turn.” Bakugou huffs with irritation, but slides out, letting you suck in some air. “Fine; just don’t hog her. That’ll piss me off.” 

Then it’s Kiri’s turn. He is thicker than Bakugou so when he slides into your mouth, you feel it. The wet walls to your throat stretch around him as he slides in deeper, causing you to open your throat as if you are preparing to yawn to accommodate him.

The redhead tilts his head back and moans to the ceiling, his big hand gripping the back of your head. “Oh, fuck!” he moans, pumping his hips forward and back, fucking your throat as if it were a toy. 

You feel absolutely, positively used. You feel like the sluttiest woman who has ever walked the earth. And you love every second of it. Bakugou smiles sinfully as he watches you deepthroat Kiri, making his husband moan and whimper as your throat constricts and flexes around hum.

“I knew you’d be good at this, cutie,” he groans. He pulls you off of Kiri to look deep into his eyes. “You’re just our type too: pretty and eager.” 

His lips crash against yours and his tongue slips into your mouth, never mind that you just sucked two cocks. He kisses you passionately and eagerly, relishing and swallowing the muffled moans you make. And then he’s taking Kiri’s cock and sliding it back into your mouth for you, using his hand to push you down on his husband’s shaft. 

“And very small,” Kiri adds, chuckling through panted breath. “Small enough to pick up and put in any position you wanna get fucked in tonight.” He peers down at you through red slits for his eyes as you throat his cock, sucking and glucking as if it is your profession, spit and pre placing your lipgloss. 

“Would you like that, baby?” he murmurs. You peer up at him through your lashes, feeling heat pool between your thighs. “Mmm-hmm,” you hum around his cock. 

Bakugou snatches you away and replaces Kiri’s dick with his, fucking your mouth once more. Your eyes roll back as his cock slides against your throat, filling it, taking it for his own. “Oh, fuck, yes,” he groans, his fist full of your braids. “Take it, baby. You take it so fuckin’ good.”

His muscles tense as he pistons into your mouth as he would a fleshlight or Kiri’s ass, his balls full of cum and slapping slightly against your chin. 

You feel Kiri’s big palm on your ass, stroking it over your dress. “You’re still wearin’ too much,” he growls, squeezing a handful of your ass. Bakugou watches with interest, loving how you look arching your back as you suck him dry. “Not a bad view,” he hums. “‘Specially from this angle.” 

SMACK! 

Your body flinches and you moan around the cock in your mouth as you feel a sting from Bakugou’s assault on your asscheeks. Kiri’s thick fingers curl under your chin, forcing you to stare up at his handsome, flushed face. “Look up at me, cutie pie. Show me those pretty eyes while you suck my husband’s fat dick.” 

SMACK!

Bakugou smacks your ass hard again, definitely using some of his quirk because of the sharp zap you feel licking across your skin despite the fabric of your dress. “Arch that back a little more, babe,” he gently coos despite rudely fucking your throat. “I wanna see that pussy while you suck me off.” 

He pulls the hem of your dress up to reveal the thong settled between your asscheeks..and currently being eaten up by your pussy, wet pussy. Kiri practically drools at the sight, grabbing your ass at the same time Bakugou does.

“A thong?” he tuts. “What a slut we’ve got, Kats.” Bakugou growls in agreement, palming the soft globes of your butt. “Betcha wore this hopin’ you’d get fucked by another man tonight,” he growls. “Or maybe by us.” 

SMACK! 

“Am I right?” he asks. You feel your asscheeks recoil against his palm, the zap of electricity from his sweaty palm making your senses fire up.

“Y-Yes!” you whimper out. Despite the pain, there is pleasure mixed in the stinging sensation, causing your clit to throb against the slick, sticky fabric of your thong stuck against your pussy lips. 

SMACK! 

This time, Kiri does it and he hits very hard. You wouldn’t be shocked if he left a handprint. “Sorry, little one,” he chuckles. “I just couldn’t resist you anymore.”

He continues to spank your ass, lighting fire across your cheeks and possibly using his quirk too to make his hand a lot rougher. Bakugou slips his cock out and feeds you Kiri’s instead, his dick throbbing and twitching as his husband roughly fucks your mouth this time around. 

You feel his sneaky fingers wrap around the thin waistband of your thong, pulling it so it rubs against your needy slit. “Such a little minx,” he continues as he toys with your thong. “Wantin’ to get fucked by total strangers.” 

SNAP! 

He snaps the thin string back into place like a rubber band, making you jump from the slight sting as it hits your skin. “Shit, look at how wet she is!” Kiri groans. “It’s drippin’ all down these thighs.” He and Bakugou stare at the slick staining your inner thighs which you didn’t realize either. You’ve never been this wet before. 

“All of this just for a couple of spanks on that ass and dick in your mouth?” Bakugou chuckles, thoughtfully stroking your asscheeks. “Yeah, we’re definitely not lettin’ you go back to that dickhead now.” 

Kiri pulls his cock out of your wet mouth, causing a string of spit to connect from his tip to your bottom lip. “You’re stuck with us tonight, baby,” he says, his voice low and sultry. “And maybe for the next six days too.”

He lays you back on the bed, dangling your legs off of the edge as he and Bakugou kneel before you. Their eyes glint at you like twin moons, hot with lust. “Now let us show you what we do to pretty pussies like yours.” 

Somehow, you find yourself on your back with the entire room spinning and swirling as the married couple proceed to share your pussy like it is their last meal on their vacation. Sometimes they share, both of their tongues and soft lips sucking, slurping, licking, and caressing every inch of your sensitive, sopping wet cunt. They alternate between each other too, both of them individually eating you out too. 

Kiri is a whole munch, diving deep into the wet depths of your pussy, moaning about how good and sweet you taste. His crimson eyes lock dead on you, paying attention to the way you respond to his tongue flicks and swirls. Your husband has NEVER eaten you out like this: so eagerly and sloppily yet still considering your pleasure and what you need.

You writhe and squirm against Kiri’s mouth, gripping his red locks for dear life. “O-Oh, shit!” you moan. “Oh, fuck yes, yes, yes! That’s s-so, so good!” 

The redhead hums in amusement, tearing the lips on his face away from your wet, puffy ones below with a wet pop! “Such a squirmer,” he cackles, his big hands squeezing the flesh where your thighs meet your ass.

Bakugou, who has begun to fist his leaking, hard cock, has his sights set dead on your pussy. “Hold her down. She’s not gonna do shit when I’m tongue fuckin’ that pussy.” 

The blonde is a little rougher and more possessive than Kiri, but still eager to slurp up everything you give him. He holds one of your thighs, pressing one leg open while Kiri has the other, the both of them working together to ensure that you can’t move as Bakugou eats your pussy with abandon.

You cry and sob at his tongue lashings, the cold metal of his tongue piercing melting like ice cream against the soaking, hot walls of your pussy. 

You feel another tongue caressing the other hole you have down below, the wetness of his spit slipping down your asscrack. “Mmm, fuck, Kiri,” you whine. The redhead grins against your asscheeks, one hand massaging the globes while he wiggles his tongue against your asshole.

“Yeah?” he teases. “You like gettin’ this ass eaten too?” You whimper as Bakugou sucks on your clit at the same time Kiri presses an open-mouthed kiss to your asshole. “Little slut,” he whispers before his tongue is rimming the tight hole of your ass. 

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls slack. You have never had anyone eat your ass before, but this was something you discussed with the couple before coming in here. During the walk back to their room, you discussed all the things you want to try and enjoy in the bedroom, including the possibility of anal sex–something your husband wouldn’t dare to discuss. 

“Hey,” Bakugou suddenly growls, nipping at your inner thigh with his teeth. “Don’t neglect me. I’m the one puttin’ in work down here too.” 

SMACK! 

You shriek, damn near cumming as his palm comes down on your clit, a zap of electricity making your toes curl and your thighs buckle. “I-I’m sorry!” you sob. “I won’t do it again, Daddy, I promise!”

His vermillion eyes glare at you as he smirks, cocky and proud. “Damn right, you won’t; not if you wanna cum…and you do wanna cum, don’t you, little one?” he murmurs before taking your clit into his mouth and gently sucking on the nub. 

He and Kiri continue to slurp at your holes, their saliva dripping down your thighs and your asscrack, soaking you and making your holes even more lubricated. It helps for their tongues to dip in and fuck you, causing your moans to grow louder, so loud that you’re sure that the entire resort can hear you. You dig your hands in their hair and grip their scalps as you feel yourself peaking, your orgasm cresting so much that your back arches. 

“Oh, my God, I’m gonna cum!” you wail out. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna fucking…!”

The two men lick faster, their tongues and lips encouraging you to spill your cum all over them. In a split second, you do and you nearly scream to the heavens as the pleasure engulfs you, washing you away on a wave. The couple moan and growl in appreciation as you spill your cream all over their tongues; they lick away, cleaning up every inch of you. The cum that spills down your asscrack, Kiri catches, feral grunts escaping him. 

When you are finally twitching and whimpering, the two stop, their lips coated in your juices. You watch in awe as they begin to kiss in front of you, mashing their lips together in a sloppy kiss. You could cum again just by looking at them.

“Let’s give this hole a break now,” Kiri suggests, his smile mischievous and lustful. One finger rims your asshole, making you flinch at the sensitivity. “I think this one here needs some more playin’ with.”

He turns to Bakugou, puckering his lips at him. “Get the lube for us, won’t you, hubby?” he teases.

Minutes later, after Bakugou grabs a travel bottle of warming, edible lube from the nightstand, you are turned over and bent over the bed, your ass sticking in the air and gripping the sheets as one of Bakugou’s thick fingers gently probes your ass. “Oh!” you gasp, your eyes rolling behind your head. “Ah, fuck!” 

“Does it hurt?” Bakugou asks. You whimper, shaking your head into the bed, but he thoughtfully strokes your ass, envoking a response from you. “Answer me, little one. Gotta know you’re okay.” 

“N-No,” you squeak. “Just…a lot.” It is a foreign feeling that is different from Kiri’s tongue, but the lube and copious amounts of spit that Kiri provided earlier help a lot. Bakugou slips his finger in a little more, taking in the way your body talks to him. “Nice and slow, little one. Gotta make sure we don’t hurt you.” 

Hurt isn’t even a word in your vocab at this point. Your pussy is gushing like it hasn’t before, slipping down your thighs as Bakugou slowly fucks your ass with his finger, opening you up more and more. “Fuck, you’re so tight here,” he grunts. “I’ve been watchin’ this ass all night. Just wanna fuck you here.” 

SMACK! 

He gives your ass a playful slap that has you singing and crooning like a songbird into the sheets stained in your makeup. “Stretch you out the way you need to be,” he murmurs with want, his cock throbbing and pulsing with need between his thighs. Kiri wraps a hand around his husband’s cock and slowly begins stroking him while he brings his lips over to your pussy. 

“But don’t worry, cutie; we’ll fuck you here too. Can’t neglect her, now, can we?” He puckers his lips and spits on your pussy before slurping it back up, stimulating your kitty while Bakugou continues to fuck the puckered hole of your ass. “Fuck, look at you,” he rasps. “Little vixen is gettin’ wetter from this.”

Kiri hums in agreement, your cream and his spit sliding down his chin.

“All it takes is some fingers in your pretty little asshole, don’t it?” the blonde asks before he adds his tongue into the mix, licking around your hole as he continues to probe the tight hole with his finger. 

“Oh, fuck!” you whimper. “Please! More!” Bakugou laughs, taken aback. “More?” he parrots, grinning. “What, you want these dicks now? Is that it? Are these fingers and tongues not enough for some slutty holes like yours?” 

You can’t help it; his dirty words coax your body to move on its own and you toss yourself back into Bakugou’s finger, taking the digit fully in your ass. “That’s a good girl, little one,” Kiri murmurs, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Fuck yourself on Katsuki’s finger. Make yourself cum again.” 

And you do. The stimulation and the warming lube are too much, making every part of your body sensitive to the touch. “H-Ha, o-oh, m-m-my G-God!” you stutter, your hips bucking like a bull’s. “I-I’m gonna cum again!” 

“Oh, yeah?” Kiri laughs against your pussy. “Do it, cutie. Cum for us again. Make that pretty hole cum for us.” He and Bakugou continue to lick, grunting and moaning into your holes, pushing you further to the edge. 

But instead of that warmth in your core, you feel a tickle in your bladder and you realize with horror what is happening. “Wait, you guys!” you shout in a warning. “Wait, I don’t think…I’m gonna pee! Stop!”

But they don’t and unfortunately for you, liquid squirts and spills wildly from your pussy and into Kiri’s mouth. He sputters in shock though he doesn’t pull away, slurping up every ounce of you. 

“Shit, she squirted!” Bakugou gasps, laughing in disbelief at the scene. “I’m guessin’ her man never made her do that,” he cackles. He dives down and licks some up for himself, moaning in appreciation and satisfaction at your taste. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” 

You don’t even know what ‘more’ looks like for you. You think squirting when you’ve never before just about takes the cake, but as the two men climb up on the bed with you, you know that this is not the case for them. 

Kiri gently rubs your back, placing his palm at the middle of your spine as you huff and puff, exhausted. “Tuckered out, little baby?” he coos. Wordlessly, you shake your head. Despite your exhaustion, your need for their cocks is more. “No?” he chuckles. “Even after all that, you still want us?” 

“Oh, baby, we’re gonna have some fun with you,” Bakugou groans. He hikes you up with ease, sitting you down in his lap, his hard cock throbbing against your tummy. “Tell us you want us to fuck you,” he demands, his eyes drilling hard into yours. 

Your response is automatic, your want ignited. “I want you to fuck me,” you reply. “Want you both inside me. Need you both to fill me up and make each other cum.” You wrap a hand around both of them, earning wanton groans in response to your touch. “Please, Daddies?” you beg. 

That plea and your doe-like, brown eyes peering up at them lead to you straddling Kiri’s lap while his thick cock slides against your slit, nudging your clit and making you slippery enough to slide down his shaft. The big, beefy redhead leans back against the headboard, his big hands massaging your ass while you straddle his thighs, grinding your pussy against the shaft of his throbbing dick. “You feel so good, Kiri,” you moan, gripping his shoulders. 

The redhead jerkingly nods in agreement, biting his lip at the feeling. “You do too. Easy now, cutie. I’m bigger than your husband, so take all the time that you—“ 

Evidently, you already had enough time because you’re suddenly sliding your dripping pussy down on him. You both loudly moan at the explosive pleasure, your gummy walls tight and silky around his velvety, pulsing cock. “That was easy,” Bakugou chuckles. “Cock slut couldn’t wait to take you.” He is on his knees behind you, rutting his cock up against your asshole. 

You feel tears prick your eyes, making them glassy and wet as you bring yourself up and down on Kiri’s thick cock, whimpers and sobs leaving your sticky lips. “Oh, fuck, Kiri!” you sob. “You’re so fucking big! You’re stretching me out so good!”

You can feel it–everytime you come down, you somehow feel yourself stretching more. Despite your husband’s nice penis, he could never make you feel this needy. This desperate to take more. 

Bakugou presses a kiss to your shoulder, his pre-cum staining your asscheeks. “Slowly, baby. There’s no rush for this. I’m lettin’ you use my man, so be grateful.” 

You bite your trembling lip, doing your best to go slow. “I-I am,” you whimper. “Thank you!” The blonde groans at your sweetness, his tip nudging your asshole. 

Kiri watches your bouncing tits as you come up and down on his cock like a little bunny, his face flushed red and his eyes crimson slits. “Such a little sweetheart,” he groans. “And such a sweet little pussy too, f-f-fuck!” He grips your ass tighter, drawing you to him.

“Ride me, angel,” he begs, staring up at you. “Please bounce on my cock. Keep usin’ that dick like a toy, little one. Use me.” 

You do as you’re told and begin bouncing a little faster on him, creating an orgasmic rhythm that takes you both to paradise. You dig your nails into Kiri’s shoulders, damn near breaking skin, but he doesn’t care. Not when your cunt is this good.

“Guess you ain’t the only slut here,” Bakugou chuckles. “Does she feel good, Eji?” The redhead whimpers in reply, his fangs digging into his bottom lip. “Words,” the blonde growls. 

“Y-Yeah!” Kiri grunts out. “So good!” Bakugou hums in enjoyment and satisfaction, tucking his hand between you to rub Kiri’s heavy balls. “Then fuck her back. Don’t make her do all the work.” Kiri does as he is told, raising his hips to meet you as you come down, plunging his cock deeper inside of you. 

As he does this, Bakugou’s tip passes the threshold of your ass a bit, making you gasp. “I’m gonna go in now, baby,” he warns. “Just relax. You feel nice and loose now. It’s fuckin’ gapin’ for me.” You can feel it, the walls of your ass nice and stretched, the cool air making you shiver. 

“Fuck, that’s hot!” Kiri groans. “She’s stretched out here too.” And he’s right–you are so stretched open by his cock that he has no problem fucking you dumb, sliding you up and down, up and down, along his cock slick with your juices and his pre-cum. 

“You ready, baby girl?” Bakugou whispers, his lips toying with your ear. “Just tap my thigh if you need me to stop. That goes for shitty hair too.” It takes a moment to find your words, but you do despite your head dizzy with pleasure. You turn to hook an arm around his head, pulling him closer. “Yes, sir,” you mewl. 

“Just the tip,” he grunts before he slides the rest of the way in, pushing past the rim of your ass. He grunts in pleasure as a strange howl escapes you, making you feel like a totally different person. A stranger. A slut who likes getting fucked by two fat cocks in both of her holes. 

“Oh, my God!” you wail, your head falling against Kiri’s chest. Bakugou slides the tip out an inch and goes back in, repeating this action for a couple of minutes, allowing your hole to grow familiar with his cock. “Easy; just fuck me back slowly. Take your time. Gotta make sure you can take all this dick.” 

The two of them begin to fuck you in unison, Kiri slowing down to match Bakugou’s tempo and not overwhelm you. Their luscious moans and feral grunts fill the bedroom smelling of sex, lube, and mingled cologne and body mist, their sweet whispers of “you’re doin’ so good, little one” and “such a good fuckin’ slut for us” making your body tingle with need. 

At some point, the slow fucking flies out the window and Kiri begins to rut up into you, his hips slamming up against yours. Bakugou chuckles, still rolling his hips slow and easy as he fucks your asshole. “So much for nice and slow. You’re fucking her like you wanna nut, shitty hair.” 

“Can’t help it,” the redhead grunts. “She feels so perfect!” His balls, soaked in your juices, slap against your clit as he pounds up into you, grunting with each thrust. “Goddammit,” Bakugou hisses, “if you keep poundin’ her like that, you’ll make me wanna speed up too.” His balls stimulate you too, your needy button nearly exploding from the pleasure. 

“Go ahead,” you beg. “Fuck me faster! Please!” The couple stare at you in astonishment, slightly pausing to regard you in shock. “Faster?” they ask in unison.

You nod, pressing your face into Kiri’s shoulder. You don’t want them to see your face–you know you look a hot ass mess. Bakugou gives your ass a smack, chuckling as he does. “You’ve got it, little one. Just don’t run from us.” 

For the next blissful minutes–or hours?–, the couple fuck your holes in unison, their cocks frotting and rubbing against one another, making them moan, grunt, and whimper into your ear. You bounce pathetically on their dicks, forced to take all of it as you whimper and sob, tears threatening to drip down your cheeks stained with ruined mascara and foundation. You have never felt this good before. 

Brrring! Brrrring! 

Your eyes open, your vision blurry, and you look down at the nightstand where your purse is. “My phone!” you whine.

Kiri yanks your purse open and takes your phone out, looking at the caller ID. “Oh, it’s the man of the hour!” he jokes. He grins toothily at you, flashing you your phone screen. “Your husband’s calling, baby.” 

‘Oh, shit,’ you think. What time even is it? How long have you been here? He must think you’ve been kidnapped or something! 

“Answer it,” Bakugou grunts. “Put it on speaker.” 

“W-Wait!” you protest, but it’s too late. Kiri answers the phone and continues to fuck you as he stares, his breath coming out in short pants. “Helloooo? Bakugou residence.” 

You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle your pathetic, slutty moans as the two men fuck you stupid, Bakugou yanking on your braids while Kiri rubs your clit. “Who are you?” your husband demands. “Where’s Y/N? This is her number, isn’t it?” 

Kiri smirks at you. “Oh, it is, but Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s too busy gettin’ her brains fucked out—something you can’t and won’t do.” 

Bakugou tears your hand off of your mouth, forcing those loud moans and whines to escape you, exposing the truth to your husband about his dirty little wife. “Y/N, answer me!” he shouts.

You do so, moaning Bakugou’s name as his cock fills your ass. Your husband grows enraged, screaming belligerently. “You bitch! How could you do this to me?! I’m your husband!” 

Bakugou snatches the phone from Kiri, giving your husband a piece of his mind now. “Then you should’ve thought about that before actin’ like a damn loser,” he growls. “Now shut the fuck up and stop ruinin’ my fun with your wife. It ain’t our fault you’re gettin’ cucked.” 

He then hangs up before your husband can reply and ruts into you faster alongside Kiri, their thrusts intense and merciful, making the bed shake beneath them. With their dick-alicious dicks and the saucy excitement of your husband hearing you get fucked, you can’t help but feel another orgasm coming on. “M’gonna cum again!” you whimper. “I’m so close!” 

“Cum with me,” Kiri demands, his dick jackhammering into you as you frantically rub your clit. “Cum on that dick, little one. It’s all fucking yours!” 

Bakugou is close too judging by how his cock pulses in your ass and his fingers dig into the flesh of your buttcheeks. “Thaaat’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “That’s my girl lettin’ me fuck that drippin’ little hole.” 

It doesn’t take long for all three of you to cum together, the couple’s thrusts stilling for a moment as they fill you to the brim with their spunk.

You moan loudly, so loud that it bounces off of the bedroom walls, as your holes clench around their cocks and your pussy spasms, spilling your honey all over Kiri’s thick, beautiful cock. Your eyelashes flutter and your muscles clench, your intense nut sending you through the stars and across the galaxy. 

When the high fades and you go limp, the couple gently pry you off of their cocks and lay you down on your back. Like a rag doll, your body is limp and loose, allowing Bakugou to hook your legs up to expose your ass. “Stay there,” he grunts. “Stay right fuckin’ there. I wanna cum all over that ass.” 

Kiri kneels over you, his semi-hard cock hanging in your face. “I’ve still got some for these pretty titties too. I want your bitch ass husband to smell us when you go back to your hotel room, cutie~” 

The two fuck their cocks with their hands, sending spurts of cum all over your tits and ass. You gasp at the warm droplets coating your skin, already drying. Then the couple pull you up onto your knees, holding their cocks out for you. They are coated in cum, slick and juicy. “Clean us off, naughty girl,” Bakugou gruffly demands. “You caused it, so it’s your responsibility.” 

You do as told, kitten-licking and slurping up the taste of your holes and their cum from their cocks, relishing the soft moans and hushed swears as you do. Once you finish, the two gently lay you on your back and lick you clean too, being extra gentle with your pussy and putting a soft pillow under your sore ass. Your entire body feels sore, but deliciously so. 

The pros then lay side by side with you between them, Bakugou on your right while Kiri takes your left. The redhead snuggles into your backside, his hair tickling your face.

“You were amazing, sweetheart. You definitely made this trip unforgettable, that’s for sure!” He wraps his big arms around you, encasing you in a warm, sweaty embrace. 

Exhaustion makes your brain foggy and you can barely focus on what he is saying to you. “Mmm-hmm,” you sleepily agree. 

Bakugou tsks, wrapping an arm around your neck, allowing his arm to be your pillow. “Such a baby,” he huffs. “Close your eyes. Don’t fight it if ya need to sleep.” 

In your blissed out, sleepy state, you ask the question, “So I can spend the night?” 

The blonde once again tsks, scowling down at you. “What kinda stupid question is that? Why else would we be cuddlin’ your ass?” He presses a kiss to the crown of your forehead, making your skin flush with warmth. 

Kiri chuckles behind you, becoming the big spoon as he squeezes you between himself and Bakugou, protecting you from the darkness and tomorrow. “That’s a yes. You could even stay the entire trip if you wanted to, cutie.” 

He too kisses you, pressing one softly against your cheek. “And Musutafu’s only a plane ride away,” he adds. “Anything’s possible, baby.” 

You sleepily smile into Bakugou’s chest, feeling his heart beat against your cheek. That all sounds so nice. The three of you? Together? They, your sexy boyfriends and you, their pretty little girlfriend? It sounds so perfect… 

Yet so unpredictable. Tomorrow is only a sunrise away and the future is uncertain. You know eventually, you will have to go back to your hotel room and face your husband. Face your problems. Face the inevitable crash and burn of your marriage. You know that you will have to return home soon and figure things out from there. 

Everything feels unsure right now, but one thing in your mind that remains as you fall off to sleep is for sure: you’re getting a divorce. 

THE END.

—

You’re the first girl Tomura has ever really been around for more than 30 seconds. Like, seriously, for most of his life he’s been surrounded by men. So, in the beginning of your relationship, he doesn’t really know what’s wrong and what’s right.

I mean, he’s called people bitches before. In person, on some game- he’s called people almost every insult under the sun. So when you piss him off the first time, it just slips out naturally.

“…Fucking bitch…”

You were already walking away, trying to get some space and air before going back to actually talk about whatever you were arguing about.

But when you heard that, you immediately stopped in your tracks.

Tomura watched flatly as you slowly turned back around, a mix between anger and shock on your face.

“…Excuse me?”

Well, the way you said that did actually make him pause for a second. Why do you look so…offended? I mean, yeah, he insulted you. But you look like genuinely distraught over it. And so, he doubles down.

“…I said you’re being a bitch right n-.”

The sound of the slap rings throughout the room.

You’d crossed the distance between you two in less than a second, your hand landing sharply on his cheek. Tomura’s head whipped to the side, his eyes wide with shock. He brings a hand up to touch his cheek, red and stinging from your force. You just…you just hit him? Just for that?

Immediately, he’s even angrier than before, turning his head and glaring harshly. “What the fuck-.”

“Don’t ever fucking call me that again!” You cut him off so sharply he shuts right up, which doesn’t happen very easily. “Do you hear me?! I’ll slap the shit out of you if you do that again!”

Blinking rapidly, Tomura stares at you in disbelief. He’s never seen you this angry before- especially not at him. But you’re absolutely fuming, glaring daggers at him, your hand shaking from how hard you hit him, and you’re 100% serious with your threat.

Now normally, he wouldn’t stand around thinking about his actions. Only the rest of the League could get away with hitting him and yelling at him like this, but even they couldn’t make him actually reflect. No, you are the only person who’s ever made him feel…bad? He’s never thought about the weight of his words, but apparently calling you a bitch is a dealbreaker.

You don’t let up your glare for a second as he seems to rethink his life. Then, after a moment or two, Tomura backs off. He looks away with a scowl and takes a step back, his hands clenched at his sides, obviously still angry but giving up just this once.

“…Fine…Won’t happen again.”

—

Dabi, on the other hand, does know better…kind of. He knows you ‘shouldnt’ call a woman a bitch, but he doesn’t exactly know why it’s so bad. He doesn’t know why it would carry more weight than any other insult. And he’s not exactly know for being considerate anyways.

You two are arguing, as per usual. It’s always something, really, when two unstable and confrontational people get together. This time, apparently you’ve been ‘nagging’ him about maybe being just a little more careful on missions so he doesn’t DIE.

Huffing in irritation, you turn to leave in the middle of the argument, really not wanting to get into a yelling match right now.

“Yeah, walk away…Stupid bitch.”

The way you freeze in your tracks has Dabi thinking he won the argument, a grin spreading on his face as he casually leans back against the wall.

You turn around slowly.

Still grinning.

You level a mean glare at him.

Still grinning.

You start coming back towards him.

Still-

That stupid smirk is wiped clean off his lips as you slap him hard across the face.

Dabi’s head whips to the side, his breath audibly hitching. You just…hit him? Seriously? It doesn’t hurt him much- God knows his pain tolerance is absurdly high- but it probably would’ve knocked someone weaker out.

“Are you fucking cra-.”

“You don’t fucking call me a bitch!” The command leaves your lips so harshly, even someone like Dabi shuts up and meets your gaze. “You ever do that again, I’ll beat the shit out of you! Do you understand me?!”

He blinks once or twice, actually shocked that you’re threatening him after you just hit him. But damn…you’re completely serious. Your hand is shaking from how hard you hit him, but it’s poised just in case you think he needs another one. And if looks could kill…he’d probably be dead on the floor right now.

And Dabi isn’t even mad about it. Actually, he’s impressed. And, unhealthy as it is, he’s only attracted to you even more because of it.

Scoffing softly, he looks to the side again and takes a step back, his hands coming up in a sarcastic show of surrender. You slowly lower your hand, your eyes narrowing suspiciously on the way the corner of his mouth twitches as he holds back a smirk.

“…Yeah…Got it, babe…”

—

As you shake your head and press on, Tomura nearly loses his mind. He never thought he’d be here- pretty girl on his lap, glossy lips on his neck, his dick just inches from sliding inside a pussy for the first time. He shudders as you press your tits against his chest, and he tightens his hold on your hips as you adjust yourself over him.

Once you slide just his tip inside, you both have to pause. Tomura groans and fully hugs around your waist, his fingertips leaving bruises in your skin as he tries so fucking hard not to cum. You have to stop because he’s fucking big- like, even just his tip is stretching you out like crazy.

Getting down the rest of the way is even harder…literally. Tomura is pulsing and throbbing and twitching so much he just bumps inside with little jerks. His arms hold you in place, and you just whimper and whine and cling to him as he tugs you down every thick inch. Once you’re fully seated, you both pause again to cope with him being inside you.

His tip is soooo fucking red inside you, leaking relentlessly and throbbing pitifully as he tries not to cum. And yet, he’s hitting your cervix, making it all sticky with his thick precum. The feeling has you going insane, your head spinning as you drop it to his shoulder, your hands grasping tightly at his sleeves as you whimper his name. Tomura can’t shut the fuck up now- not with your pussy squeezing him and your sweet voice in his ear. He’s all “Oh, f-fuck- ‘M a-all the way-.” “Shit- ‘s this w-what it feels l-like?” “O-oh my god- w-wait- not yet-.” “Ohhh, fuck-!”

And yeah…he totally cums early. Super early. Deep inside you. Without even getting to move. Tomura whimpers brokenly as it happens, his arms crushing you to his chest as he unconsciously bites at your shoulder. You shudder at the feeling, almost regretting letting him hit raw…but damn it feels good. His cum is so heavy and warm as it spurts inside you, although most of it trickles down and out around him.

Tomura, the poor guy, is mortified once he comes down. Not in the flustered, stuttering way. He’s annoyed- with you, with himself, with the situation in general. He’s all cursing and grumbling, his face all red and scowling, his eyes avoiding contact with yours, his hands groping roughly at your hips like stress balls, and he’s still just so fucking hard inside you. All like “Ah, sh-shit-.” “F-fuck- fuck you-.” “Your fault- god dammit-.” “Shut up- shut the fuck up-!”

You giggle because, really, it’s kinda…endearing. And you don’t pull away or get turned off, like he expected. Instead, you lean in close and coo in his ear, your hips rolling down and making his over-sensitive cock jump inside you. Tomura gasps and whines, digging his fingers into your waist as he tries to hold you still, eyes narrowed in what would be a glare if he wasn’t so desperate.

You swallow hard, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable. “Yes—yours.”​

Slap.​

“That’s right. My favorite little toy.”

​His fingers dig into the marks he’s painting across your skin. You can feel the sheer size of him beneath you—the hard, heavy length of him pressing against your hip. You grind down against him, just a little, desperate for a different kind of friction.​

He lets out a dark, strained groan. “You don’t get to tease me now,” he says, his voice dropping into a growl as he delivers another sharp slap. “Not when you’re the one laid out like a brat waiting to be used.”

​You moan, your body burning with a hunger that feels like it’s going to consume you. It isn't pain anymore; it’s a desperate, pulsing heat in your teeth and in the wet sound of your breath. He slaps you again—just once—harder than all the others, making your vision blur for a split second.

​Then, he stops. He lets his hand rest there, heavy and broad, pressing firmly over the sting.​

He leans in close, his voice heavy in your ear. “I could fuck you just like this,” he murmurs. “Arched. Spanked raw. Still squirming like you’re begging for more.”

​You shiver, your entire frame vibrating under his touch. He slides his fingers between your thighs, touching you once, a slow and deliberate stroke that makes you cry out. “Still so wet,” he teases, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Didn’t even need a reason to get you like this.”

​He pulls his hand away, and the sound of his belt shifting is the loudest thing in the room. You hear his breath catch as he prepares himself.​

“You want it?” he mutters.​

You nod, desperate and ready to break for him. “Please. God, please.”

​“Then keep still,” he commands, his voice turning cold and authoritative. “And don't you dare cum until I say so.”

​He doesn't give you a second to breathe. He flips you over, his hands rough and certain as they grab your hips. He bends you forward until your chest hits the mattress, leaving your ass high, aching, and completely exposed.​

“You look wrecked,” he mutters from behind you. You hear him adjusting himself, the sheer presence of him looming over you making the air feel thick. “Still twitching from the spanking and you’re already leaking for me.”

​You whimper into the sheets, your fingers clutching the fabric. You can feel him now—hard, heavy, and massive. He drags the head of his dick through the mess, the friction making your hips buck involuntarily.​

“Sloppy for me,” he rasps. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good.”​He grabs himself, stroking twice, and then he pushes in. There is no warning.

It is just pure, unyielding pressure and a deep, heavy stretch that makes your breath punch out of you. He is so much bigger than what you’re used to, filling every inch of your entrance until you feel like you’re going to split.​

“Fffuck, you’re so tight around me.”​

He bottoms out in one steady, relentless thrust. His hips press flush against yours, his full weight pinning you into the bed. One of his massive hands stays locked on your lower back, holding you in place while he grinds in deeper, seeking the very back of you.​

“Feel that?” he pants, his voice shaking with the effort of holding back. “That’s your spot. Right there.”

​You let out a broken scream, your head tossing back. ​“Oh my god,” you breathe out, the honesty of the pleasure finally breaking through your pride. “You’re so... you’re so big. It feels so good.”

​He let's out a low, mean chuckle that vibrates through your entire pelvis. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath before slamming back in, his dick angled so deep you see stars.​

“Yeah? You like being filled up like this?” he grunts, his pace beginning to pick up. “You clamp around me like you’re begging to be broken. Like you want to drown in it.”

​You try to speak, to tell him he's right, but all that comes out is a wrecked, wet moan. He leans over your back, his large hand finding a fistful of your hair. He pulls, forcing your head up so he can see your face in the mirror across the room.​

“Look at you,” he praises, his voice thick with lust. “Getting fucked dumb, bruised up, and still so damn greedy for more of me.”​

Then he starts moving in earnest. Hard. Heavy. Brutal.​

His dick hits that same spot again and again—that one place that makes your legs lock and your brain turn to liquid. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows the size of him is a weapon, and he’s using it to ruin you.​

And then—Smack.​

He spanks you again, his open palm landing on your raw skin with a sharp crack. You jolt forward, your muscles spasming violently around him, clamping down on his length in a frantic rhythm.

​“Oh yeah,” he groans, his own voice breaking. “You like that. You like being reminded who’s in control.”

​His free hand slides down your front, his rough, hot fingers finding the sensitive space between your thighs. He doesn't care about being gentle; he plays with you like he owns every nerve ending in your body. He strokes messy, heavy circles, his thumb applying a pressure that makes you cry out in a high-pitched wail.​

“Gonna make you cum just like this,” he mutters into your ear. “Fucked from behind, spanked raw, while I fill you from the inside.”

​You choke on your breath, trying to brace yourself, but it’s impossible. He’s too deep, his thrusts too relentless. Your whole body is bouncing with the force of him, your knees going weak as he continues to pound against that one spot.​

“There,” he grunts, his teeth gritting. “You feel that? That’s where I live now. That’s mine.”

​Another thrust. Another sharp spank. Your whole body seizes, the pleasure turning into something that borders on a physical overload.

​“You’re gonna cum,” he says, his voice a dark prophecy. “I know you are. Just a few more. Just like this, my pretty little slut.”​

His rhythm turns sharp and cruel. Every stroke punches against your center, his fingers working you at the same time, his voice a constant, filthy stream of praise and commands. “Cum for me. Give it all to me right now.”​

You do.​You shatter. Your back arches, your thighs clench, and everything in your world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you. You wail into the mattress, your release hitting you so hard your body convulses in waves, your walls tightening around him in a desperate, rhythmic plea.​

“God damn,” he grunts, his voice dropping into a guttural growl as he fucks you through the climax. He doesn't stop; he keeps spanking you between thrusts, riding the edge of your oversensitive twitching until he’s just as wrecked as you are.​

You’re trembling. Spent. Completely undone.​

And then he goes still.​

He buries himself as deep as he can go, a low curse escaping him. He cums inside you with a heavy, soul-deep groan, his dick pulsing thick and hot while his hand stays fisted in your hair. He stays there, his full weight pressing you into the bed, his chest heaving against your back.​

When he finally pulls out—slow, wet, and breathless—he grabs your ass one more time, his fingers digging into the marks he left.​

“Next time,” he pants, his voice still thick with the aftermath, “I tie you up first. So you really can’t move while I’m using you.”​

You would say yes. You would say anything he wanted. But you’re still twitching too hard to speak.​

You’re slumped forward, your cheek pressed to the damp mattress, your body still jumping in little aftershocks. You think he’d stop. You think that after making you sob and filling you up, he’d let you catch your breath.​

But he isn't finished with you.​

He grabs you by the hips, his hands large and unyielding as he spreads you open again. He pushes two fingers inside—slow, thick, and deep.​

You jolt, a choked sound leaving your throat.​

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his chest pressed to your back. “Don’t squirm now. We’re not done yet.”​

You whimper, the stretch of his fingers feeling massive after the intensity of his length. You're still slick, still sore, but he doesn't care about your comfort.​

“Gotta keep you full,” he mutters, curling his fingers just enough to make your hips twitch. “Can’t waste what I gave you.”

​His other hand rests on your lower back, heavy and grounding, reminding you that you aren't going anywhere.​

“You took me so good. Came all over yourself like you were starving for it.”​

His fingers start to move—slow, deliberate thrusts that drag against that same spot, making your thighs shake all over again. You moan and try to crawl forward, your body bucking against the renewed sensation.

​He presses your hips down, hard. “Where the fuck do you think you’re goin'?”​

You gasp, the air leaving your lungs. He leans over your back, his breath warm and humid against your shoulder.​

“I said we’re not done,” he croons, his voice low and dangerous. “You stay still, you take my fingers, and you say thank you.”

​You shake your head, your mind a buzzing mess of overstimulation. You can't even think, let alone speak.​

Smack.​

His palm lands on your sore ass again, sharp and final.​

“Try again.”​

You bite your lip, gasping the words through a throat that has gone raw from screaming. “Thank you.”​

He hums, the sound vibrating against your spine. He’s still moving inside you, deep and rhythmic.​

“Again.”​

You cry it now, the desperation taking over. “Thank you—ahmn—God, it feels so good...”​

“For what?” he asks, his fingers curling with a cruel precision.​You don’t answer fast enough.​

Another thrust. Deeper. He’s stretching you out, his thumb finding your center and applying that heavy, agonizing pressure.​

“Say it.”

​Your voice cracks. “F-for... fucking me. For filling me up. For making me—mghn—fuck—cum again...”​

He groans, his fingers working you perfectly. “Good toy,” he mutters, the praise making your heart swell even as your body breaks. “Took all of it. Gonna take more.”

​You tremble, your body reaching its limit, but he doesn't let up. He pulls his fingers out just enough to watch your entrance clench around nothing, then pushes them back in, grinding the heel of his palm against you with a heavy, crushing force.​

You cry out, a sound that is half-pleasure and half-overload.​“Gonna milk my fingers too, baby?” he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You really that fuckin’ needy for me?”​

You don’t answer. You can’t. You’re panting too hard, your vision swimming. But your body is already there—twitching around him, dripping, clenching tight as another wave of release builds in your gut.

​He smirks. He can feel it.​

“Yeah. That’s it.” His voice drops low, nearly reverent, but still carrying that sharp edge of command. “Come on, baby. Make a mess for me. Let me see how good you break.”​

You do. ​Again.​ Your body locks up, your breath catching in your throat, as you come hard around his fingers. He works you through every single pulse, staying inside, holding you open, making sure you feel every bit of the ruin he’s caused.​

Finally, he stops. He pulls his hand away and lets you fall. He presses a lingering kiss to your spine, right between your shoulder blades.​

Then he leans in, his voice low and steady. “Mine,” he whispers. “Always mine.”​

And this time, you nod without a hesitation.

Star Divider by @uzmacchiato

Purple Heart Dividers @strangergraphics

His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.

"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.

"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.

"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.

His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.

"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 

As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.

"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"

Tags: non-con, coercion, dubious consent, degradation, dirty talk, age gap,

Bad Man Enji that sets his sights on the PYT his son started dating

Who lets lets them have late night study sessions

who offers to drive you home

Who stares at up your fat ass as he walks behind you to the car

Who comments on how beautiful you are, with a hand on your exposed thigh.

Who's noticeably hard in his slacks as he slides a hand up your thigh

Who tells you what pretty lips you have

Who tells you they'd look prettier kissing his cock

Who's driven to a secluded area, so he can let his fat cock flop out on to his thigh

Who thumbs over your lips, smearing gloss, slowing starting to jerk off

Who tells you he wants to see the glittery gloss of his son's gf, on his dick

Who takes a small brown hand and wraps it around his dick

Whose dick is messy with pre-cum as your inexperienced hand move in unsure strokes

Who fucks your fist, groaning for you to make it tighter

Who grows tired and tells you to put your mouth on it, since you can't give a decent handjob

Who, when you don't listen, grabs you by elegantly bubble banded hair and forces you to suck his dick.

"That's it, suck me. Look how good you take it, tell me, is this what you do to Touya when you're shut up in his room? Is that why you're so good at sucking cock?"

Who fucks your face so hard, his heavy balls slap up against your chin as you gag and choke on him

Who holds you down so he can cum down your throat

"Uh huh you little slut, swallow this nut."

Who pulls out just to finish cumming on your face.

Who smacks you with his softening cock, smearing his cum on your face

"There you are, Daddy's pretty little Bitch. Be good and lick me clean before you put me away."

Who scoops his cum off your face and forces his fingers in your mouth

Who nudges thick fingers in your panties and forces you to lick his fingers clean

"Freaky little Bitch, feel how wet this cunt is.

Who forces two fingers down your throat, the same way he forces them in your pussy.

"Your a tight little cock sleeve. Haven't you let my son between your whore legs yet? Good, I'll be the first man to ruin this pussy."

Who laughs darkly at you when you start crying from the shame of enjoying it.

"It's okay, just be a good cock sleeve, and let Daddy break you in."

Who curls his finger deep inside you to rub over your g spot, while his thumb rubs at your clit, until you moan around fingers in your mouth and squirt around the ones in your pussy

Who looks at you darkly, as he licks your juices off his hand, before driving you home

saliva pools in your mouth, the urge to vomit crawls up the back of your throat with urgency. and you have to swallow down around nothing to get rid of that sick, sick feeling.

“how—you shouldn’t be here.”

he grins predatorily, teeth on display as he gets closer. you nearly trip over nothing when you back up, hand reaching out to steady yourself. you’re afraid of turning your back on him, afraid of how he’d pounce the moment you did so.

“what’s wrong, princess? not happy to see me?” he’s wearing a frown now, but you know he doesn’t mean it, not with the way his eyes glint with ill intent.

thoughts of that first encounter with him, the only encounter with him, make you shudder.

but his words earlier—“thought you would’ve locked up better after last time”—what is he talking about?

from the corner of your eye, you make out a mug you had sitting on an end table. he’s blocking the way to the exit, and you knew if you tried to make it to the balcony, then he’d catch you before you even had a chance. plus, what would you even do once you got there?

but you could run for the kitchen, whether he grabs you or not, you could reach a weapon in time. something to defend yourself with.

when he gets close enough, you a reach for the mug, throwing it at him, not with the intent to hit him but to distract him long enough to make your move.

and with that split second, you run.

bare feet skid across the floor, catching the edge of the area rug you had laid out on the living room floor. your breath hitches, and you nearly choke on your spit when you hear his thundering footsteps behind you.

you swear you can see the wooden knife block behind your eyelids every time you blink. it’s on the left hand side of the counter, pushed towards the back. not every knife is in there, some shoved into some drawers somewhere, but you always kept the chef’s knife there. that’s what you’re aiming for.

you’re there. right there.

but then your shirt jerks you back, catching on the corner of the table. no, not the table—it’s fingers. long thick fingers twist into the fabric, yanking you back til you’re slamming into a wall of hard muscle.

“nice try, princess.”

you nearly black out when your head hits the table, vision blurring and unfocusing for a second. he’s got you bent over, one arm wrenched behind your back before you can even register what’s happening. then a heavy hand falls down on your backside, causing your whole body to jerk, hand scrambling against the flat tabletop.

he’s spanking you again, the skin rising before he’s shoving your panties down til they pool around your feet. then he’s pushing your hand higher up your back, bringing your sleep tee with it, exposing your flesh to his wandering hand.

“you know,” he begins, fingers splaying across your back, and you instinctively arch away from him, pressing yourself as close against the table as possible. “after that first night, i couldn’t stop thinking about how soft you were.”

you shudder in disgust when his hand slides lower, sliding over the curve of your ass then dipping between your legs.

there’s an intense burning in your jaw, the taste of blood filling your mouth makes you think you bit your tongue when he slammed you against the table. and you’re too out of it to notice when he let go of your arm, using his free hand to grab one of your ass cheeks and spreading it wide, both your holes on display for him.

“fuck, i missed this,” he growls, spreading both cheeks apart now, you hear it before you feel, the wet sound of him spitting. it hangs for a moment, before snapping and dripping messily over your holes. then he lifts his thumb to his mouth, gives it a quick lick, and presses it against your clit.

“s-stop—” you slur, eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to clear the fog in your head.

“not a chance, sweetheart, but maybe if you ask daddy nicely, i won’t go so hard on you.”

there it is, that word.

daddy.

when you first met him, you were too drunk to really be aware of anything, only remembering his name at the time. all you knew was that you needed a good fuck to get over your ex. so you were willing to say anything if it meant you’d get what you wanted.

“i’m not—i won’t,” you spit out, blood filling the cracks on your lips.

he tuts, beginning to rub harsh circles against you clit, and your thighs tense, breath catching in your throat. “why do you have to be so difficult? be good for me.”

your lip curls in disgust, refusing to give in. that is, until he’s leaning over you, chest flush against your back. his lips drag along the shell of your ear, breath a soft tickle.

“either you say it, or i fuck you with no prep.”

and that has you shuddering, eyes rolling under their lids as you clench them shut. “i—please, be gentle, daddy. g-god, please.”

he groans—something deep, primal—almost like a purr, and you can feel it vibrate through your back.

“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says as he stands back to full height. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, feel just how much larger he is standing behind you.

he’s gripping your ass with both hands again, squeezing and kneading, thick fingers digging into your flesh. you know there’d be bruising tomorrow in the shape of his fingers to match the welts raised on your flesh.

“maybe i should fuck you here this time,” he says more to himself than to you, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“n-no, please, not there—” he’d split you in two even with proper prep, he’d break you. “daddy please not there.”

“i should give you what you want then, right?” and his hands are releasing you to settle on your hips. “since you said it so nicely.”

you’re nodding your head to the best of your ability, teeth sinking into your lower lip. you pray he’ll have mercy on you. you’d let him fuck you as much as you want, just not there. “please daddy.”

and he grins, fingers dipping between your folds again, dipping into the small bit of arousal and dragging it down to your clit. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you, rubbing softly circles against your clit, causing your thighs to shake. “for now.”

his movements are slow, and careful. it makes you sick. how he’s so gentle with you, knowing he has no intention of being like this when he fucks you with his cock. if makes you shudder, and he takes this as a sign to go further, one thick digit prodding at your entrance.

you tense when it slips inside, pushing into the third knuckle. your walls instinctively clench around his finger, drawing it in further. then he’s building a steady pace, finger pushing and pulling with a squelch that makes your ears ring.

he teases a second while he grabs at your ass, spreading you wider so he can watch the way he fucks you with his fingers—watch how your hole twitches and spasms around each digit.

“doing so good, sweetheart.” your lips twist, you’re getting tired of the pet names, it makes your stomach churn—him talking to you as if you’re just a couple being intimate.

you can feel that heat building within you, and you panic. you’d rather he not make you cum, instead just use your body to get off so he can leave you to repair the broken pieces of yourself.

“s-stop—”

he notices the frantic trembling of your body, and he eases his fingers out only to tease your entrance with the careful prodding of three of them this time, and your body clenches up. “what? don’t you want to cum?”

“n-no, please don’t—just fuck me already. get it over with.” and you think for just one moment that he’s going to listen when you no longer feel the heat of his fingers against your core, but then he’s shoving all three in one brutal sweep, forcing the air from your lungs.

he’s got his free hand on your lower back, keeping you in place as his fingers plunge and curl inside of you, repeatedly stroking that one spot that has your thighs twitching, muscles jumping as he forces your body to endure the pleasure.

“w-wait—god, i’m—” you choke on a moan, cunt clenching around his fingers as your lashes flutter, eyes coming in and out of focus. your cunt spasms around his fingers as if attempting to milk them, desperate for something thicker, as much as your mind tried to deny it. he continues pumping his fingers, your cum coating the digits, the lewd sound of your cum—thick and sticky—echoing in your ears.

you barely register him pulling his fingers free, slipping them into his mouth as his free hand deftly undoes his belt, the sound of the zipper hissing open drawing your attention.

“wait—i need a minute—!” but he ignores you, shoving his pants and boxers down. you get a few seconds of him swiping his cock through your folds before he’s plunging inside in one easy drive of his hips.

you blink rapidly, trying to regulate your breathing, but he’s wrapping one arm around your waist, yanking you back against his cock.

then he slips his other arm beneath your chin, forearm against your throat, a noise of surprise leaving you before he’s hauling you upright, back arched sharply..

he sets an intense pace, not giving you time to catch your breath as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. his hips slam against your backside, cock repeatedly stroking that one spot that has you creaming on his length, eyes rolling desperately. 

“sukuna—!” you gasp, and then he's choking you harder, arm tightening around your neck as he slams into you like he’s angry. that’s when you realize that you fucked up, and you’re frantically slapping at his arm, desperate to get him to let up as your vision turns spotty.

he seems to be aware that you’ve realized your mistake, his grip around your throat loosening just enough to allow you to breathe.

“what do we say?”

“‘m sorry, d-daddy,” and you swear you can feel his cock throb harder inside of you, his hips grinding against your ass, and the ache blooming low in your belly makes you want to vomit.

“that’s it, good girl.” the name does something to you for some reason, you find yourself clawing at his arm, nails leaving red lines along the flesh. he hisses from the pain, panting roughly against your ear. “you’re enjoying this.”

“no—” and you’d shake your head if he didn’t have you by the throat.

the sound of skin slapping on skin is obscenely loud, his cock repeatedly parting your folds with a lewd squelch, and all the noises make your eyes roll. your hands grip his arm, an attempt at grounding yourself as he ruins your insides. it’s too much, you can feel your arousal dripping between your legs and his cock, thick strings snapping and forming a small spot on the flooring.

“god,” sukuna groans, arm tightening around your neck once more, forcing your neck to arch further. and you’re looking up at him, eyes hazy, focused on the way his cock stokes the fire burning in your belly. “taking daddy so well, you know that?”

and it has your jaw slack, panting breaths leaving you, eyes rolling so hard it causes your head to ache. it disgusts you, the way he has you falling apart on his cock. the way you can feel your juices drench your inner thighs due to his actions, the small burst of juices running down your legs. it makes tears fill your eyes—fat and heavy, weighing down your lashes as they build up along your waterline.

sukuna swears when he notices, arms keeping you pinned to him, hips taking on a punishing pace, and he’s forcing his length deeper inside of you, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each forceful thrust, causing your whole body to jerk and tremble in his hold.

the dam breaks, tears streaming down your face, the pain blooming in your belly becoming unbearable the longer he fucks you like this. yet you can’t do anything but take it, body seizing up as he ruins your insides, not caring for your pain or discomfort. instead he focuses on the pleasure your body brings to him.

“cryin’ for daddy?” he punctuates his question with a sharp, powerful thrust, and you swear you can feel him in your guts. he hisses, stopping to stir his cock against the deepest part of your cunt, hips flushed to your ass. “answer me.”

“y-yes daddy, ah—” and you can’t believe your body is reacting like this, desperate to milk his cock as he batters your cervix.

then your world is turning, sucking in a lungful of air when he releases you only to lose it again when he pushes your face back against the table. your arms stretch out on either side, gripping the edges.

his hands are back on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. “fuck yourself on me,” he demands, guiding you til your ass is bouncing off his hips, moving with a mind of their own.

“daddy, daddy, yes, ah—daddy. . .” you gasp, chanting breathily, moans catching between each word. you don’t even hear yourself, and you’re hoping it’s instinct and not your body wanting this. the thought has you involuntarily clenching down around his cock, though, your cunt trying desperately to milk him.

and then your arms are moving, stretching out across the table, fingers curling into the wood as you fuck yourself on his cock. and he’s gripping and groping every bit of flesh he can get his hands on, his slowly rolling to meet you halfway, and you whine when he’s hitting in deep again. it makes your hips stutter, jerking as if trying to get away from thrusts.

he’s having none of it, though, his hands settling on your hips once more as he begins rocking into you heavily, the thick drag of his cock forcing you to spread your legs wider. and when his cock repeatedly brutalizes your cervix—you lose control.

heat rushes between your legs, hot and heavy as the first gush of piss—helpless and uncontrollable—spills forth. it runs down your legs, and your body convulses, mouth dropping as humiliation burns deep within your core.

sukuna groans at the sight, gripping one of your thighs to lift your leg against the table, further embarrassing you as you piss yourself uncontrollably. “pissin’ for daddy now?”

and all you can do is sob while he fucks you through it forcing gush after gush of piss from between your thighs, splattering against the floor in a lewd display.

“d-daddy,” you sniffle, reaching blindly behind you in an attempt to push at his hips, trying to stop his intense thrusts. he just grabs your wrist, pinning your arm against your lower back.

you shudder when you finally stop pissing yourself. there’s an odd sense of relief that washes over you, body going lax and limp against the table, a fog entering your brain as you stare blankly at the counter across from you. you’re unaware that you’ve slipped two fingers in your mouth, sucking on the digits to ground yourself.

sukuna notices this, releasing your hand to lean over your back, his hips slowing to an easy drag of his cock. his nose brushes your cheek, lips trailing over your skin, across your clothed shoulder, parting to whisper soft words. “is daddy’s girl feeling good?”

you can’t say anything, but your mouth parts, heavy, stuttering breaths leaving you. sukuna keeps going, whispered words against your ear, soft murmurs of “daddy’s good girl,” “you’re doing so well,” and “daddy wants you to cum”.

it makes your cunt clench desperately around his cock, and he takes this as a sign to lean back, hands smoothing down your back as he picks up pace once more. his hips drive forward, the edge of the table digging into you with each punishing thrust. and you’re panting now, brain finally starting to come back into focus, the feeling in your stomach building to an unbearable peak.

you don’t even realize you’re cumming til your body seizes up, light flashes behind your eyelids as you clench your eyes shut—cunt gripping him so tight, as if desperate for his release as more slick gushes from between your legs, trickling down to join the puddle of piss on the floor.

sukuna’s groaning, hand on the back of your neck as he thrusts in you with brutal precision, his cock bullying your insides, turning them into mush. it’s filthy, arousal clinging to his cock, your creamy essence leaving a white ring around the base of his length. “gonna cum inside this pussy. maybe give you daddy’s baby.”

and you don’t register his words until it’s too late, his cock pushing into the hilt as he erupts. it’s warm and thick, filling your insides in heavy spurts, painting your walls white.

a deep growl erupts from his chest as his hips give a final thrust, cock pulsing where it’s nestled inside of you.

“no—” you choke out, body shuddering as his release settles within you. your leg trembles where it rests on the table, and he smooths a hand across your thigh before slowly lowering it back down. it makes you sob. the way he’s playing pretend. like he’s always this gentle with you.

“you did so good for me.” he murmurs, the sickeningly sweet sound of his voice makes you recoil, trying to inch yourself away from him. he tuts, grabbing your hips, keeping you speared on his cock. “what do you say?”

and you sob harder, fingers slipping from your mouth, lips trembling. “thank you, daddy.”