He’s still talking about them when he gets home, about how proud he is of all the progress they’ve made and how cute they are as he comes up behind you as your cooking, hands coming down to wrap around your middle.

“Bet we’d have cuter ones,” you say, off handedly, not even realizing what you’ve awoken in Makoto. He’s grabbing your wrist as soon as he feels his dick come to life, reaching over to shut off the stove and then whisking you away to the bedroom.

One simple sentence got your legs thrown over those big shoulders of his, Makoto’s hips rolling fluidly, his hands planted by your head so he can watch your eyelids flutter when his cock kisses your cervix with each stroke.

“C-can’t just say stuff like that, princess,” he grunts, “You have no idea what it does to me. You wanna make me a daddy that bad? Want me to fill you up, yeah? Wanna give me a relay team of our own?”

The words you have can’t come out, cut short with the way your voice hitches as he fucks into you, so you settle for nodding and tightening your legs around his neck, bringing him down closer as he kisses you through your orgasm, Makoto groaning against your lips as he spills into you.

He pulls out with a hiss, sitting back on his calves as he holds your legs in the air as his cum begins to drip out of you. Two long fingers sweep through your sensitive folds to push it back into your hole, Makoto murmuring sweet nothings to you as you come down from your high.

He can’t let any drop go to waste.

After all, you did promise your kids would be cuter. He has to see this for himself.

he starts off with audios, catching the small little whimpers and grunts he makes when he teases the head of his cock with his thumb, hitting upload soon after that last moan that comes with spilling into his hand.

and then he meets you, the pretty girl who sits next to him in his ethics class — one who captivates him with your mind, body and soul — and the audios change.

he’s grunting as though its you wrapped around him and not his fist — talking about how he wants nothing more than to just ruin you and see if you’ll still be that good little girl for him — testing if your character is really that unshakable. his fanbase takes off from there, and now, paying for law school doesn’t feel as stressful as it did before — in fact, it’s lifted a weight off his shoulders, megumi now mustering the courage to finally strike up a conversation with you.

and look at your impact — you’ve even gotten megumi to start treating his followers to videos — the same filthy words spewing from his mouth but now they get to see just how he spills all over toned alabaster abs at the thought of you, all they can do is dream that they’re the one he’s pumping his veiny length too.

he’s consistent with when he uploads, every tuesday at around 5:45 in the afternoon, around 15 minutes from before he’s going to meet you for your standing study date. its how he eases his nerves before seeing you — and also ensures he has enough to buy you a cup of coffee.

it wounds him when he sees you rush your work, always wrapping up earlier than him and telling him you’ll see him in class tomorrow before you stride out the door. maybe you were just that fast a worker, but poor megumi can’t help but worry that you just arent that into him.

oh, if only megumi knew the truth — that the reason you run is because you get the notifications of his uploads — and all you want to do is just stuff your fingers in that pretty little cunt of your’s to the sounds that beautiful boy stroking his cock — fantasizing that those noises were coming from your study buddy instead.

oh, if only you knew how close your dreams were to reality.

The way his arm muscles ripple as they try to fight against the fuzzy cuffs you’ve bound him to on the headboard, the tattoo of a set of wings on his thigh tightening as he watches you slobber up and down his shaft.

“F-fuck, b-babe, close — nghh.” He throws his head back, veins popping against his flushed neck as he pants above you in an effort to keep his cool. Pink lips fall into an O, Eren srunching up his eyes as he prepares to spill down your throat.

You can feel it too, his cock twitching your mouth, balls tightening in your grasp — so you move off of it — a string of saliva connecting you to the angry red head. You give him with a smile, blowing over the tip to see tears beading in Eren’s eyes over the 4th time you’ve prevented his release so far.

“What’s wrong, baby?” The faux sincerity is dripping in your voice, looking back up expectantly to watch how his voice hitches in his throat as you lazily pump his shaft.

“Wan-want to cum, fuck, please, ff—.”

You remove your hand, placing your palms on the bed by his hips so you can rise up to be eye level with his face. He’s absolutely ruined, beads of sweat starting to run into his strong eyebrows, blue green eyes that were normally full of arrogance pleading with you for mercy.

“Do you think you deserve to cum after what you did? Do you think that’s fair, Eren?”

He grimaces as he remembers what brought him here — you walking in to how he was telling Jean about how he wears the pants in your relationship, a bold faced lie he states in the face of toxic masculinity. You had dismissed it it with a laugh and offered to give him top when you both got home, a trap that Eren fell straight into.

“No.” He admits quietly.

“What’s that, baby? Speak up.”

“No. But I’m sorry — please just — you’re killing me here.”

“Aw, am I?” You move forward, straddling his hips so his shaft was nestled between your folds, cupping his face so he could look up at you with his glassy gaze.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, please, let me inside, just, even for a second. Wanna cum, want it so bad.” He’s blabbering in your hold, apologizes on how much of an idiot he is tumbling from his lips growing more and more rapid as the warmth from your hole taunts him.

You giggle the way you’ve broken him, lining his length up with your entrance and sinking down, you yourself drenched by all the whimpers he’s been letting out as you’ve edged him, Eren’s sniveling cut short as his eyes roll into his head when the head of his dick pushes past your walls.

He’s thanking you as you bounce on him, and it takes a matter of seconds before he is painting your insides white — the cum starting to leak past the seal of his cock with how much there was.

His breaths are labored as he comes down from his high, the faint relief on his face jolting into one of shock when he feels you start to move up his length again.

“Did you think we were done? I didn’t even get to cum,” you pout.

“Think we should give the neighbours that show you were bragging to Jean about, yeah?”

Jean who feels that pit of guilt grow when you giggle at the way he gets so flustered when he catches you coming out of the bathroom, towel clutched to your wet body oh so innocently as you bounce back to your boyfriend’s room — Jean shutting the bathroom door behind him quickly so he can bury his head in his hands to try to quell the terrible thoughts he’s thinking of you.

So when Marco calls him over to a quiet room in the party, he feels his stomach drop — its over — he’s figured him out, the least thing he’s expecting is you and Eren sitting in the room too, legs spread over Eren’s thighs with your skirt flipped up so Jean can get an eyeful of your pretty pussy.

Marco did figure him out, and Eren was able to put two and two together too, the both of them coming to you with this little proposition to finally quiet down the storm in Jean’s mind.

Jean can’t believe it, alternating from looking back at the two of you and Marco in shock, causing Marco to hold his face still as he tells him “It’s okay, I’m fine with this.”

“I think it will be hot.”

Jean drops to his knees, crawling between your open legs to press a soft kiss on your clit, hands resting over with Eren’s over your thighs as he dives into your folds.

You’re squirming in your boyfriends lap, gasping as Jean eats you out like a man starved, your whines causing you to feel your boyfriend stiffen against your back and Marco to palm over the crotch of his pants.

And Jean?

Well, he’s in heaven. You taste so much better than he could have ever thought, tongue prodding into your entrance so he could lap all of you up, and he realizes he needs more than just this. So he takes a break to beg, mouth covered in your slick as his lips quiver when he begs you to give him a chance to fuck you, and you’re nodding deliriously in agreement as long as Jean will get you to finish.

Eren gets sick of his whining, fisting Jean’s honey brown mullet to shove it into your puffy folds. “She said make her cum, damn it, then we can negotiate,” he grits.

“Do what he says, baby,” Marco calls out, his own voice strained as he pumps himself at the sight in front of him. “You want to be good, don’t you? Be a good boy and listen.”

So Jean obeys, wrapping his lips around your bud and giving it a desperate suck as you shatter in Eren’s arms.

You feel like jello, looking down at Jean with half lidded eyes and a dopey smile as Eren starts to whisper in your ear. You let out an airy laugh and nod, and Eren slips from out from behind you, maneuvering you so your head hangs over the edge of the bed so you can gaze up at Marco with big doe eyes and your lips parted. A blush dusts his freckled face, a soiled hand holding his flushed cock as he watched his boyfriend eat you out like you were his last meal.

“She wants you too, Marco,” Eren says.

“Trust me when I say she sounds so much better with out having a wall muffle her out.”

The apartment must hate you, you feel. Whenever Armin’s not around, something messes up. Like the time the lights all went out when you tried to bring home tinder date number #5, or how your car didn’t start when you were trying to go to that dive bar to meet up with that one guy from your college english class.

And when turning on the sink results in the water soaking the dress you had picked for tonights clubbing activities — you cant help but break out into a sob — Armin busting out of his room with worry filling those ocean eyes as he sees you kicking off your heels in frustration as you cry.

He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back as he calms you down, you’re blubbering about how this apartment is literally cockblocking you at every turn, causing armin to make a weak joke at how there’s plenty of cock here. and so you break your hug to look at him, gazing at your roommates cherubic features — realizing that maybe what you needed tonight was comfort rather than getting your shit rocked.

So you end up back in his room, riding him as he guides you up and down his cock with his hands on your waist. He’s sucking soft hickeys on your neck, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull with the sensation. when you’re able to open them, you can’t help but notice the stack of boxes Armin has peaking out of his open closet, but before you can even question it, he’s flipping you on your stomach, sliding into you from behind in a fluid motion before burying your face further in the pillows.

The thing is, you can’t question it. Armin could never let you.

How would you react if you found out thats where all your pretty panties were missing — because Armin was stealing them as soon as they came out of the dryer, staining them with his cum while the fabric was still warm?

How would you react if you found all the burnt out light bulbs, the wires to your car battery, or the aerator to the sink?

No, Armin can’t allow that to happen. So he’ll make sure to fuck your pretty little brains out inside, making sure you believe the demon that lived in flat 104B is finally exorcised now that you’re his.

Taiju’s got you speared on him the minute everyone’s gone — stripped down nothing while all he’s done is shove his pants down to his ankles. he’s moving you like you weigh nothing, large hands around your waist dragging you up and down like a rag doll, each ridge of his cock along your walls practically causing you to hiccup his name.

His grunting is just incoherent at this point, swearing and cursing about what the fuck he’s supposed to do about you, it’s like you have to be on a leash or something so he knows you’ll just behave for once, and you’re so fucked out all you can do is just nod in response as your tongue lols out of your mouth. and then you break, creaming all over his length as you dig your nails into tattooed shoulders — but he’s still going despite the fact you’re shaking in his arms.

He’s laughing when tears start to prick at your big doe eyes from the overstimulation, cupping your chin as he cooes at you.

Taiju may have broken the brat out of you, but no one said this punishment would be easy.

hazel eyes half lidded and lips parted as he looks down at you kneeling between his spread legs, you pulling moan after moan from his mouth as you bob dutifully up and down his length.

you’re killing him, especially when you pull off of him, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the head, giving him a small smile before you start pressing open mouth kisses down his cock, working your way down to run your tongue down the seam of his balls before sucking on one of them gently.

and the way you look back up at him through those thick lashes of yours as you run your tongue along the silken veins. who could blame you though, its impossible not to admire how the blush adorns those sharp cheek bones of his, how his chest is heaving with his labored breaths.

its enough to make him snap, a strong hand coming to rest on the crown of your head when the flushed tip of his dick is finally sitting heavy on your tongue, guiding you down till your nose is flush with the soft brown curls as the base of his cock, balls tapping against your chin as he starts to buck his hips into your awaiting mouth, and its taking everything in him not to just spill as he feels your throat start to constrict around his length.

so he lets you go, a gasp tumbling past you as you catch your breath, and Jean swears he got harder with the sight of the mascara starting to run down your cheeks and he wants nothing more to just hold you down there once more — but he waits for your okay — more than delighted when he feels you reach over to put that big hand of his in your hair before moving your way back down.

The apology he gives for separating you from your friends like that is such a convincing performance, and he’s so thankful that you’ve waved it off with ease and continue to chat with him, only separating when your friends drag you off but leaving you with his number in phone.

It’s how he greets you at every party this semester going forward, big hands wrapping around your middle as he he picks you up and shouts your name with glee, spinning you around as you giggle in his grasp.

He’s just so comforting, so radiant, that you don’t even notice how his hand keeps lingering on your side long past the time he’s said hello, making it so much easier for him to press you into his side and declare you his partner for beer pong that night.

It feels like second nature the way he tucks you under his chin and squeezes your hips as you two wait for Inumaki to fill up your drinks, and you can’t tell if its because of the warmth from the alcohol or because of his hands but your body just feels that much hotter where he’s touching you.

Yuuji’s traced his way along every cut out of your dresses and rubbed his hands over your exposed belly that comes with your crop tops over numerous weekends, he’s pretty sure he has the grooves of your bodies memorized at this point. and when he keeps inviting you to sleep over when the parties die down he cant help but grab you by the plush of your ass to drag you down on to his bed, hands still resting over the curve of your bottom as you two drift off.

When you wake up, yuuji’s snoring softly beside you, hands still glued to your curves. you try to detangle yourself as gracefully as possible, searching for the party shirt you had swapped of for one of Yuuji’s old baseball jersey’s to sleep in amongst the mess of his room.

Thank god your friends called you back before you decided to go venturing into the bathroom, because you might have just seen that pretty bralette of yours hanging on the towel rack, streaks of white running against the dusty pink lace.

Yuuji just couldn’t help himself, picking the thing up off the floor and bolting the bathroom shut — inhaling the the scent of your perfume off the fabric as he begins to palm at his stiffened length. He’s spilling on it before he knows it, thinking about how he knows exactly how your breasts would bounce if you rode him from the amount of times he’s made you jump to retrieve as stolen solo cup.

Or how he knows how your ass would jiggle if he bent you over the very mattress you two shared yesterday, all because of the times he’s felt it move as he smacks it whenever he sees you talking to someone else.

And when he is greeted by the reminder of his actions of the night, he tosses the bralette to into the drawer thats got all the srunchies, skirts and slinky tops he’s managed to pluck from you will all the times you’ve been over — resigning himself to the fact that he’s stolen enough of your clothes, its finally time he sees you with out them for real.