*weeps Piteously* Threeway With Atsuhina And Hinata Is Holding Your Head Down On Atsumu's Dick, Even

Dilf!Osamu who’s unsure of what to do for your first Valentine’s Day together. Who doesn’t mind pulling out all the usual stops: roses, chocolate, presents, and a fancy dinner, but also knows that eating too much food and having a bit too much wine is definitely going to make his dick flag. Who also isn’t sure if you’d rather do something more intimate at home with him. Who wants very much for you to have an incredible Valentine’s Day that makes you feel loved and spoiled and pampered. Who confers with Atsumu (who suggests a pretty piece of jewelry and a low-key dinner out), Kita (who suggests taking on some of your chores, flowers, and a home-made gift that isn’t an onigiri), and Suna (who simply tells him to lay down some good pipe, because he has all the romance of a pair of dirty gym socks). Who asks you what you want for Valentine’s Day, and is surprised when you blush and tell him that you’ve already planned the day out, so don’t worry about anything.

Who wonders if this is all a test, to see what he will do. Who frets back and forth if he should get flowers or chocolate or a pretty necklace or maybe a nice purse? Who decides that he’ll get a lovely bouquet for you and ask Atsumu to get some of the French chocolates Atsumu had last year (apparently, Ushijima on the Schweiden Adlers has a buddy in Paris who makes the most exquisitely chocolate).

Who’s jaw drops when you tell him that he’s on pussy probation for the two weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day. Who sputters and protests at your idea, trying to logic you out of it.

“But–but for what!”

“Because, Daddy,” you murmur, pressing coy kisses against his and running a very, very distracting hand down his chest, abdomen, and dangerously close to his dick. His dick, who, by a damn near Pavlovian response, starts to stand up, eager to greet you. “It’ll make it so good when we have sex again on Valentine’s Day. You’ll cum so hard. Won’t it be romantic?”

He stares at you, laughing in disbelief and dismay. “It won’t be romantic when I cum in you on the first stroke.”

“Oh, speaking in strokes,” you drop your voice into that low purr you know he likes. His dick strains to attention. “No masturbating until then, okay?”

“WHAT.”

Who, for some insane reason, agrees to these terms. No cumming. No masturbating. Well, agree is a bit of a generous term for you-stopped-busting-it-wide-open-for-Osamu.

Osamu doesn’t like it, but he has to admit that there’s an incredible allure to the anticipation and build up. And it’s two weeks. He can do two weeks. He won’t like it, but if it’s what you want, he can do two weeks. He figures he’ll just throw himself into working and working out.

He does not, however, anticipate you being an outright demon.

He nearly drops his morning coffee when you come out from the bedroom, naked as a new born, and boldly press your ass right up against his dick, who’s desperate to remind you of his presence. You kiss his neck, rubbing his chest teasingly and hook your thigh around his waist, with a sultry “daddy, come back to bed, it’s the weekend”.

He throw himself into work and lifting weights, but that doesn’t help either. Not when all your clothes magically fall off when he’s home, you’re pressing your body right up against him, and pressing all the right buttons. Not when he wakes up to his dick in your hungry, eager little mouth and hands. Not when you quickly crawl up his body and press the tip right up into your entrance, drunkenly talking about how much you miss is cock, how good it’s going to feel when you guys finally have sex again, how much you miss daddy’s stretching your pussy out, how you wanna milk all of his seed until it’s in your pussy, your throat, your titties, your ass, your face.

“Want you to spend your cum all over me like an animal,” you moan, grinding your clit against his cock. Osamu feels his dick pulse hard and he’s sure that he’s about to but when you pull away and start grinding your pussy on his thigh until you cum. He thinks he just might cry.

He cracks on day five of your two week torture. It’s 2 AM, and you’re rubbing on his cock again, and filth is spewing from your mouth.

“Daddy,” you whimper, pussy juices all of his cock, his abdomen, his face (you gave him 30 glorious seconds to penetrate you with his tongue before you moved from his face, much to his despair). “Oh, Daddy, can–we can just do the tip, right? Just the tip? Please, it’ll feel so good.”

And he knows it’s a fucking trap. That you’re going to sit all the way down on him, eating up inch by heavenly inch no matter what he says, and that you’re gonna make it so good, before you take it all away. And Osamu isn’t sure he can handle that.

“No,” he nearly shouts, slurred and dizzy with arousal. The squelching sound of your pussy is nearly enough to tip him over the edge. “No, ‘s gonna make me cum.! ‘S too much!”

You whimper, and tilt your hips until the tip catches on the entrance. Osamu’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing hard, harder than he’s ever grabbed. He’s so close. God, if he just bucked up just a little bit…

“No,” he slurs. “No, bunny, no.”

“You can take it,” you whimper, and you sit right down on the head. Osamu’s head flies back, making strangled, garbled noises, like he’s been electrocute. Your cunt is so slippery and it’s already sucks him in to welcomingly, like his cock has was always meant to be there.

“No!” Osamu gasps, much more frantically now. “No! I can’t! I’ll cum, I’m gonna cum—“

“Daddy,” you moan, and you sit right down on the hilt. This is it, he thinks, Im going to cum. Not a goddamn thing he can do about it. Especially not when you’re rolling your hips like that, with all those low, crooning you’re doing.

“Ughhh,” he slurs, drunkenly, lightheaded, release mounting higher and higher in his belly. “Hnghh, ugh, ugh—don’t stop, don’t stop.”

You wriggle your hips, looking pleased as you lean down to kiss him. And then slowly, but evilly, you start lifting off his dick.

Osamu’s eyes widen, hands grabbing at your hips, hips thrusting urgently. “No, no! No, no, no, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

But you’re too quick and you’re giggling shakily as he’s left thrusting cool air. And finally, finally, against all his intentions and strength, Osamu begins to sob.

“Noo,” he moans, shuddering rolling over on his side, torn between jerking his cock at a punishing pace and being good and listening to what you asked of him. He cradles his cock tenderly, the head screaming with the absolute agony of losing all that blissful heat and silk. He’s still slick with your juices, the scent of your pussy making him tear up in earnest. “No, oh, God. Please. Please. Please. Oh, god.”

“Aww, Daddy,” you murmur soothingly, slotting yourself right behind him, your breasts hot against his back, hands tenderly caressing his arm and flank, before encircling his belly—

“No!” Osamu wails like he’s in physical pain, entire body clenched. “No, you can’t do that. It’s too much, it’s too much. I’ll cum.”

You lay off the teasing for a few days, just to let him recover a bit. Not that it helps. He still wake up, very hard, and he can’t help but grind the bed a bit to just try and take the edge off, but it’s like an itch. The more he scratches, the hotter and itchier it gets. You ease off the physical teasing, and instead start sending him selfies that have him moaning out loud and grabbing and shaking at his cock to get it to calm down.

He wakes up on Valentine’s Day with a wet pussy grinding languorously on his dick.

“You’ve been so patient, Daddy,” you smile, shyly. Osamu can only whimper when you begin easing your way down his cock, nearly vibrating with need. “This is your surprise. Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m just got on birth control.”

He makes it 17 desperate pumps, holding onto your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away and blue-ball him again. He cums with a broken moan, half disbelieving and half in sheer relief. He pants and shudders in your breasts, mouthing at them like he’s trying to self-soothe.

You promise him that this is only to just take the edge off. And the rest of the day is wonderful. You’ve both taken the day off, you have some quick onigiris for breakfast and you spend the afternoon fucking and eating and watching TV and napping. In the evening, you make huge portions of carbonara that you both wolf down before you bring him downstairs to the Onigiri Miya kitchen and you reveal your surprise: homemade chocolate croissants, made with the French chocolate he gave you. You had prepped the pastry the night before, and now all that’s left to do is bake it.

Osamu isn’t a baker, and so he watches with rapt attention as your fingers tenderly lift the edge of the long triangle and begins rolling up until it form a crescent, the wedge chocolate on the inside of the pastry hidden from sight. His whole body feels warm when you spoon him from behind and gently guide him through the motions, your fingers caressing and touching intimately.

“There’s a bunch for at least four days,” you murmur shyly into his sleeve. “You take such good care of me. I want to take care of you, too.”

Osamu’s chest feel overfull and bright at your words. And the pain au chocolat is delicious, every bite flaky and perfectly bittersweet. It is a testament to your devotion to him, to have made something so complex, so detailed, with such love.

That night, Osamu take you in the shower before he make love to you in the bed. And he swears that on White Day, he’s definitely going to out-do you.

kjhahagkhjsd??!?!? Nini, I feel edged rn 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

Pls?? Now let's add in a spicy little dilf!Osamu who decides the best way to get you back is to cockwarm him. Who decides that's the cherry on top of him lapping at your puffy folds and curling his fingers inside your greedy cunt every day, making you whine and shake and sob as you grab at his hair. Who tells you the exact same thing you told him "It'll make it so good" as he watches you cry and grab at the sheets. Who hasn't let you do anything but sit pretty on his dick in the week leading up to White Day, who hasn't circled his finger along your clit in weeks, who gets such a rush of power when you arch into the feeling of him pinching at your tits or palming at your ass.

Who languidly strokes his dick in front of you and mourns that he can't fuck you sweet little pussy the way he wants while you try and change his mind, who love the feeling of you dripping all over his thigh when you try to ride it, loves the broken cry of his name when he stills your rocking hips and tells you to be patient. Who kisses you and cajoles you into admitting you love him too in return when he's smearing his cum along your skin, spreading it along your folds, over the soft skin of your tits, feeding it into your mouth and feeling you suck along his fingers as your eyes flutter.

@chicoree someone mentioned dilf!Osamu—

dilf!Osamu who leaves breakfast waiting for his sweet little girlfriend every morning. Who's so used to cooking for his girlfriends, even though he's been cooking all day, and who'd like to be doted on, just a little bit. Who spends his free time in the restaurant responding to cater requests, invoices, bills, and maintenance. Who smiles a little bit when he sees his baby girl's "good morning" and "I love you" texts, because it's nice to know that she's thinking of him even then they're both so busy. Who comes back home, arms laden with groceries, only to find his baby bustling about in the kitchen, with a big pot of stew going and the quietly rumble of laundry in the other room. Who has to take a moment to hold back his tears of surprise and who's so overwhelmed with his feelings that it's all he can do to not cry when you immediately drop everything you're holding when you see him and run into his arms, covering his face with kisses, telling him how much you've missed Daddy, and that dinner is just about ready. Who kisses you hard, quietly turns off the stove, and makes love so sweet to you on his bed, the both of you cry.

Who's so grateful that you're so understanding, despite how you're so much younger than him. Who feels bad that the beginning of everything was felt like wildfire, and now that you guys have been together for a while, the reality is that he's an older man and his limits aren't what he wants them to be. Who feels like the worst boyfriend ever when he turns down sex or if his dick flags, because he's so tired and stressed and he's an older man. Who is so grateful for you when you give him a smile and a kiss and reassure him that you love him so much. Who spends hours eating you out, lavishing you with his tongue and his fingers and everything else in his arsenal that he can, because he wants you to have his full, undivided, loving attention. Who makes it a point to fuck you stupid on the weekends, hunched over you and panting, the bed soaked, and his dick pushing inside of you over and over again, slow and intense. Who loves hitting it from the back and patting your clit firmly until you break apart and thrash from the pleasure, before he forces your hips down and just ruts at you until he cums, groaning low and shuddery in his belly. Who sometimes longs for the strength and stamina of his youth, but is also grateful that he met you when he was older and mature, so he can be a proper lover and partner. Who thinks that the perfect fit of your bodies entwined is so beautiful, and isn't it incredible that from something so beautiful, comes new life?

Who thrusts lazily between your thighs, asking for a baby. "I want a baby with you," he whispers in your ear, as you're moaning and writhing against him. "Let's make a baby. I want a little girl, with a heart as sweet as her Mama's."

if you happen to have the time/motivation… i beg you please elaborate on dilf!osamu more, i absolutely love the thought of him omg

Helloooooooooo that was actually all @lilsisenergy!!! It came from Nini's big beautiful brain huehuehuehuehue

"Kenma."

The game buzzes on, the battle music intensifying. The thing his character is facing has changed, taking on its second form as Kenma's character rolls and swings its sword. The man himself is curled into his knees, chest tucked forward in anticipation, like he's about to hop out of his chair.

"Ke-"

"In a second," he cuts you off. His unblinking eyes never leave the screen, peering through his blonde bangs. "I just have to beat this boss."

With a huff, you sink back into your chair.

"Last time you said 'just a second' it took you two days to beat the damn thing," you remind him. "I'm not immortal-- I don't have time to sit around for you."

Frankly, you often forget Kenma is immortal until moments like that. You had always thought that vampires would be menacing or carry some sort of grandeur, but everyone you've met has been so spectacularly normal. Kenma, for instance, seems like every other guy your age: aloof and obsessed with video games.

"Get bitten then," he shrugs. "Kuroo would be happy to."

Your spine trills at the thought of it. When you first met Kuroo, you thought her was odd in the most normal way possible. He was practically nocturnal because he claimed to work remotely overseas, but he still went to bars and played indoor volleyball: average activities for an average man-

Or, that's what you thought, until you learned about the whole vampire thing.

Honestly, it's only made you more attracted to him. The mystery, the danger-- what's not to love? You'd be lying if you said you had never thought of his teeth on you, his hands on your body-

"That's what I wanted to talk about."

Kenma's head whips around. This game doesn't pause; the monster smacks his avatar across the screen.

"You're turning?" His voice is either bright with surprise or shock. You've known Kenma for a while now and you still can't seem to read his motivations. You're not sure why Kuroo incorporated you into the fold of his undead friend group, but here you are, sitting in their living room.

"No, uh-" What you're about to ask suddenly feels silly. "I wanted to... Can I see your teeth?"

Kenma's expression settles and he picks up the controller that you hadn't realized he dropped.

"I died for that?" He flicks the game off. "You could have waited for that. I'll still have teeth in a week."

You have to bit your tongue to stop yourself from losing your mind. Kenma just goes back to gaming, eyes narrowing with effort.

"I could be dead in a week."

"You won't be."

"I could be," you say. "I could have a stroke at any moment."

"You won't." He mashes the buttons extra hard, so hard the plastic creaks. "And if you did, we'd know before you did."

The character dies much earlier than it usually does.

"How would you know if I had a stroke before I did?"

"It smells sour when..." His eyes finally turn your way again. "Whatever. It's fine."

"Fine to touch?" you say.

He beckons you over with a nod of his chin. "Yeah."

Pushing off from your seat, you walk over to where he's sitting. Kenma doesn't bother to stand. He tilts his head back, looking up at you with a slight smile.

Already, you can see them. The sharp, vivid white teeth behind his pale lips. They have the usual shape, but anything uncanny edge makes your skin crawl. It's something you can't quite place, maybe something not there at all.

To get closer, you slide a leg onto his chair, angling yourself over him the best that you can. You're surprised when his hand rests on your thigh for support.

"Don't look so scared," Kenma says, a bit too coy for your liking.

You hadn't realized you'd been making a face at all.

"Just don't bite me."

Kenma opens his mouth and his teeth catch the dim light, strange for how dry his mouth seems to be. His canines are slightly elongated, just a hair more than a usual human. Gingerly, you run your fingers across the front of his teeth, then down to their edges. There's almost a razors edge to them, enough that you can feel the ridges of your fingerprint catching.

"Sharp," you quip. You leave a pause for Kenma to respond, but then you realize he can't, not with his mouth open for you. He just watches you, eyes flickering from one of your eyes to the other.

This isn't intimate, you remind yourself. It's scientific curiosity.

It can't be intimate, because you like Kuroo. Not Kenma. No, you don't like it at all that his hands are around your waist and you're cupping his cheek with your free hand, that his breath somehow smells soothing-

His canines seem longer now. More jagged, sharp. You press the pad of your thumb against it and watch how your skin easily skins in, no resistenxe whatsoever. Then, you pull away. A drop of blood wells up at the spot; there's no pain whatsoever, but the thumb tingles, like menthol and cocaine, riveting and calming all at once.

Kenma leans into the palm of your hand, then cranes his neck ever so slightly to envelop your finger in his lips. It's the most delicate of touches, a ghost of a memory of a kiss, but when he pulls away, crimson has settled into the cracks of his lips.

"Your heart's beating-" his tongue runs over his lower lip. "Really fast."

Kenma pulls you closer, arms now tight around your waist. You don't know when you got so close, when your bodies suddenly were pushed together, but now they are--

and now your finger is in his mouth. The gentle, crushing pressure of suction surprises you, but not more than the desperate whine he makes when blood hits his tongue.

That buzzing had spread up your arm and you can suddenly feel it, feel how your heart runs heavy and fast for him. Kenma's eyes are so lidded, barely open, heavy with want, that you can barely make out how his pupils have narrowed into cat scratch slits.

"Oh," you babble. "Oh, it's--"

"Feels good?" Kenma isn't speaking, but you can hear his voice.

"Y-yeah."

"I can make you feel good." There can't be that much blood from that tiny spot, but Kenma swallows deep as if there is. "Anytime you want."

The plush of his tongue swipes up your digit. Oh, maybe you are bleeding out. Maybe he's killing you. You're hot and cold and weak and strong and, and, and--

"You never have to ask Kuroo for-"

The front door of the apartment slams closed. A familiar set of boisterous laughter echoes through the halls-- Bokuto and Kuroo are hone. When you pull away, Kenma gives no resistance, his eyes still fixated on you.

An unjust guilt rises in your throat. You examine your hand, expecting a torrent of blood, only to be greeted with the smallest blossom on your finger tip.

"Were we supposed to do that?" you whisper.

"It's fine." Kenma adjusts himself in his chair, pulling at his pant legs. "They'll scold me, not you."

That doesn't make you feel better.

"Thanks," you say, awkwardly heading for the door. "For the-- thanks."

"Hey," he's using his real voice this time. You pause, turning back to him to catch his wide, Cheshire grin. "Thanks for the snack."

Coming at you with a hook ✌️

SUPPORTIVE IWA PT 2 BUT MAKE IT HORNY

The only person who’s allowed to make bawdy comments and to waggle their brows at you is him. Totally lays it on all thick and greasy and dorky because he’s knows it makes you blush and giggle and it’s not like he’s even lying! Yeah, he absolutely respects how much strength you have to be able to do a no-kick invert with stripper heels on (those fuckers feel heavy when you try to fucking invert), but he also just thinks you look so good (“yeah baby, lemme see that ass in the air, show Daddy those legs, you know what Daddy likes”). Def leers when you’re doing your headstand conditioning and when you practice your leg waves. Conveniently asks you to send some of your sexier vids to him so he “check out your form” when he’s away 👀 definitely adds song suggestions to you practice playlist (Nao’s Bad Blood and Normani’s Wild Side are his absolute favorites). Will buy you pole gear he thinks you’ll like (and also will look super hot in). Loves it when your head is tilted back when you do a back hook spin, fairy sits, the Skater, and the Gemini because the arch of your back reminds him of what you look like when you’re cumming on top of him. Watch your videos when you’re away and just bites his lip, squeezing his dick, and thinking about everything he wants to do to you when you come home. Gets so worked up watching you get into sexy time at the end of a class, just stares at you all hungry and sexy while you’re just on the floor writhing and gyrating to the beat and running your hands all over your body. Hasn’t told you that ever since you started showing him your pole videos, he can’t stop thinking about stripper role play with you and totally fantasizes about being in the champagne room with him dressed in a sexy suit with a cigar in one hand while you’re giving him a private dance in glittery g-string, until he slips his fingers into your panties and rubs your clit until you cum on his lap. Definitely hasn’t told you that’s why y’all do the champagne room position so much more.

Oh my god YES. Iwa that starts asking you to show him your routine, that installs a pole in your apartment/house for you to practice on. I mean, he’d prefer if it was him you were grinding up against, but he’s not opposed to watching you run through your routines in the morning. There’s nothing like a cup of coffee and the sight of your arching back to get him going for the day. 

If there happens to be an uptick in the amount of lingerie he’s buying you he doesn’t say anything about it. If there happens to be a little more appreciative groping of your body, you’re not complaining. And if one day you catch him eyeing you hungrily as you’re rolling your hips in a slow circle on the ground...well, it was a good thing you never liked those leggings anyway.

imagine being in the middle of Eremin, only Eren is initially the one who wants you. Armin feels a little affronted, because isn't he a good boy for daddy? Doesn't he bust it wide for Daddy every night, make Daddy feel good? Eren reassures him with hushed kisses and soft words that Armin is his baby boy and that he loves him, but Daddy's also falling in love with another girl and he really wants Armin to just give it a try. Just once. If baby boy doesn't love it, it's not on the table anymore and that'll be the end of that.

Armin who glowers at the sight of you, when Eren lets you in with a kiss and purr of "Hey, honey". You're staring at him with those big Bambi eyes, like you don't know what you're doing, but Armin knows in his heart that you're just a home-wreaking whore and hw'a only doing this just because Daddy wants it. It's not like his heart is beating harder at the way you and Eren are looking at each other, Eren's calloused hand rasping softly against your satiny skin. It's not like he's swallowing at the sight of you on Daddy's lap, mouths moulded together as the two of you pet and grind at each other sensually. It's not like he's hard at the sight of Eren's fingers down your underwear and the way your face twists up with mindless pleasure as Eren makes you come on his hand. It's not like he's panting and shaking with desire when Eren crooks a finger at him, and he crawls on all fours and eager licks your pussy juices off of Daddy's fingers with a low groan of satisfaction.

When you quietly plead for Daddy's dick and Eren beckons you over, Eren gives Armin an amused, taunting sort of look that has Armin's balls tightening and his belly burning with shame and he can only watch, livid as Eren works his cock into your glistening cunt. He tells himself that he's not jealous of the noises you're making, or the noises that Daddy's making, or the way your pussy squelches deliciously with every thrust.

Who eventually bullies himself between the two of you, shoving you away as he sits himself down on Eren's cock, hot and demanding. "No," he says at you, imperiously. "I'm Daddy's favorite pussy."

Your lower lip trembles and you look at Eren with a sort of fragile uncertainty that has Armin feeling only a little bit bad. Eren chuckles lightly, but grips Armin's hips harder than usual, silently communicating his displeasure.

"Baby boy doesn't know how to share yet, honey," he says, thrusting up punishingly into Armin, who moans loudly in surprise. "He wasn't very nice to you, was he?"

"No," you whisper, looking up timidly through your lashes as Eren manhandles Armin onto all fours, who moans happily with his eyes closed at Eren's attention. The tight squeeze of Eren's fist around Armin dick is enough to have Armin's heart racing, but his eyes fly open when the tip of his dick kisses something warm and wet and soft. He stares down at you, realizing that Eren's positioned Armin directly above you, and is currently teasing the head of Armin's cock against your entrance.

"What—" Armin gasps, choking when Eren tightens his grip and swipes the flared tip right over your swollen clit. You cry out, and the combined noise and sensation are enough to make Armin's dick pulse urgently. "Daddy, Daddy, I—"

"You were mean to Honey," Eren says calmly, almost dispassionately, hand working sinister and irresistible on Armin's cock. "You didn't like watching Daddy fuck her?"

Armin wants to wail. "No! I'm Daddy's favorite! Daddy love my pussy best!"

"I love your pussy," Eren whispers in his ear, teeth catching on Armin's lobe, squeezing Armin's ass for good measure. "But you don't get to be mean to Honey like that. Not when she's been such a good girl. Make it up to her. Fuck her pussy like you want me to fuck your's. If you make her cum, Daddy will make you cum, too."

You and Armin can only stare at each other, wide-eyed and shocked, until Eren gives a crust thrust of his hips into Armin and forces Armin's cock in you. Armin immediately buries his face in your shoulder and screams with pleasure, and you wrap your arms around him, whining piteously.

"Daddy's not gonna repeat himself," Eren pants, squeezing the base of his cock at the sight of you two under him.

Armin scoops your thighs over his shoulders and immediately starts pounding at your pussy, dick pulsing and sweat beading at his brow. You're so slippery-silky wet, your muscles swallowing his cock up until he's ball-deep and your slick is dripping down his scrotum and down his legs. "Oh my god, I didn't—I didn't realize—" he babbles, half-garbled, as you're moaning so sweet in his ear.

"I can love your pussy and her pussy," Eren pants as he humps up against Armin's ass. "Both are so good, baby boy. See? Baby girl's pussy so tight, you're gonna put a whole kindergarten up in her. C'mon, put your back into it, make it good for her. Don't you wanna make it good for our baby girl?"

"Yes," Armin sobs, thrusting into you with a vengeance at Eren's words. His hips slap wet and sloppy against you, his entire abdomen with with your arousal, as you whine and buck up against him, straining to widen your legs and let him fuck even deeper. "Yes, yes, yes! Yes! Make baby girl feel good, make her cum!"

He presses his damp forehead to your's, kissing your mouth desperately. "Gonna make you cum, honey, gonna make it so good for you," he pants, rolling his his torturously slow and hissing at the way your face twists with pleasure and you start to whimper and squirm.

"Too much, too much—"

"Stop running from this dick," Armin growls, yanking you back underneath him, shoving your face into the bed and humping you from the back, as his other hand slithers down beneath your body and pats frantically at your clit. "Gimme this pussy, little brat, c'mon, be good girl, honey."

He fucks you until you scream and thrash and wet the bed, drunkenly rasping in your ear for you to squirt one more time, just one more time.

Eren yanks hims back, grabs Armin's pussy-slicked cock. "Good boy," he growls into Armin's cheek. "Good boy, making our honey feel good. You get to cum now."

But much to Eren's surprise, Armin wriggles out of his grip. "No," Armin grins, a little manic, as he hunches over where you're whining and sobbing, maneuvering you back onto your back, sinking back into the wet pout of your pussy, and offering his ass to Eren at the same time. You're nearly hysterical, already squirting weakly at just the thick stretch of Armin's cock and the press of his pubic bone against your clit.

"Use me to fuck baby girl, Daddy," Armin says, hungry and down-right evil.

And who is Daddy to refuse, after he started this whole mess?

i- i need to go touch g-g-grass

this (nsfw) is soooo atsumu im sorry i had to share

THE WAY HE SUCKS ON HER TIT

oh my god the way he looks at the camera and SMIRKS, the ass gripping…….i’ve ascended

i’ve been doing my homework on how to break into a writing career and honestly. there’s a Lot that i didn’t know about thats critical to a writing career in this day and age, and on the one hand, its understandable because we’re experiencing a massive cultural shift, but on the other hand, writers who do not have formal training in school or don’t have the connections to learn more via social osmosis end up extremely out of loop and working at a disadvantage. 

unconditionally love

Osamu who punishes you by only eating your ass.

No fingering. No pussy eating. No tit grabbing. No blowjobs. Nothing- not even the smallest brush against your clit.

He just eats your ass and refuses to give you anything else, anything more even when you plead so very sweetly and apologize in your prettiest voice and promise to be a good girl.

He'll eat your ass in public to humiliate you and huff whenever you sniffle and protest meekly that it's dirty, grumble that back that you brought it on yourself. When you're teary eyed a week later crawling into his lap and begging him to please just let you suck his cock, he'll push you away and scold you with a blank, stoic face, tell you that your punishment isn't over yet.

It's only when you break down and bawl like the crybaby you are that he'll ease up. He'll gather you into his strong arms and let you blubber into his neck, pet over you patiently and ask if you've learned your lesson- if you're ready to be a good girl; if you're ready to stop being such a brat.

(It might be a bit funny that you can't remember how you ended up in trouble if you weren't so miserable, felt so worthless)

A pathetic, weak "yes, daddy" will earn you a cherished kiss and a hip squeeze, a muttered promise to give you his attention.

If that attention glosses over your pussy and goes straight to your ass, well, Osamu better not here you complain- you're lucky you're getting anything at all

Really, he calls it punishment, but all it is is Osamu slowly molding you into his lil anal queen 💕

i think it also means he's really into it when you do a lot of cute, domestic things. gets butterflies when he sees the laundry you've folded for your little household, and gets a little too excited when he finds you cooking or baking something yummy. loves it when you pack him a bento, and write him a little love note. he's a staunch feminist, so it embarrasses him a little when he realizes just how manly he feels when you cling close to him when weaving through a crowd together, or how important he feels when you watch him take his first few bites when you both have dinner together.

I think Iwa just really thrives in that traditionally masculine role. Just really to takes being a provider, protector, and pleaser. Def the kind of guy to touch his lady’s waist when he needs to skirt by her, and who gets up early to shovel your car out from the snow. Calls you at the supermarket when you ask him to pick up some groceries if he has a question about something on your list, and keeps an eye out for any interesting treats that you might like. Brings home flowers on the regular, and has a strict no checking work rule for the weekends because he values his quality time with you. Makes sure he’s always walking between you and the road, and stays eagle eyed for any unsavory figures. just a solid, dependable man.