YALL IT WAS A RAT IN THE BATHROOM BY THE CAFETERIA AT SCHOOL. IM SCARED

YALL IT WAS A RAT IN THE BATHROOM BY THE CAFETERIA AT SCHOOL. IM SCARED😭

꒰ྀི 𝒯𝒲𝒪 𝒲𝒪𝐿𝒱𝐸𝒮 & 𝒜 𝐿𝒜𝑀𝐵 ꒱ྀི

🔔 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐟   ۫ ⊹ ᳝ ࣪   11.7k word count , established poly relationship , black fem reader [ she ﾉ her prnz ] , bratty reader , daddy doms eren + ony , mentions of reader being little [ not physical , more of a personality thing ] , not mentioned age gap [ reader is 21 , eren + ony are 25 ] , physically ill reader , dacryphilia , spanking as punishment , oral sex [ all receiving ] , eren has a dick piercing , kinda mean doms eren + ony , slight degradation , one [ 1 ] facial slap , pet name usage [ ex. mama, ma’, baby, pa’, papa ] , daddy kink , anal .

belladonna’s note to you .ᐟ   ۫ ⊹ ᳝ ࣪   dis took a leetol while but it is here :3 n i hope u luvvv . minors + ageless blogs do not interact !

you feel it the moment your lashes flit, aiding in the movement of your heavy lids opening so that your fuzzy eyesight can gradually begin to focus.

a few feet away from the california king sized mattress your body lolls upon, the curtains have been tugged just the slightest bit open, allowing you to make out the elegant, refined crystals of ice that are devised along the windowpane — frosted and powdery. snow.

tick . . tick . . tick.

you inhale an extensive breath through your nose, or at least, you try to. only a silver of air is able to enter your diaphragm, in addition to when swallowing, a thick burn substitutes the usual smooth ease within the duct of your throat.

no. no, no, no, no, no.

you huff, lifting your upper half by stretching out your arms and resting some weight on your palms. an immediate aching, dull sting begins to throb at the surface near both of your temples.

you had felt it throughout the night before while your body relaxed and renewed — the sickness, the pain, the irritation. you’re climbing out of bed with a scowl painted on the petals of your lips, palming your head and squinting while walking slowly towards the bathroom. the cotton of the oversized tee you wear is airy and thin. it belongs to one of your boyfriends you’re sure and usually you’re ecstatic to don something so loose and comfy to bed, especially a piece of clothing belonging to one of them, however . . it feels uncommonly itchy today.

makes you whine and hurry to snatch it off over your head and toss to the floor as you sit on the toilet, emptying your full bladder.

you’re left in nothing but your skimpy, little panties as you brush your teeth — movements sluggish and slow as the pounding in your head only seems to get worse upon the illumination of the warm, bathroom lighting shining down onto you.

your fist smashes against the light switch with more force than necessary to shut it off as you spit out a mouthful of teal, minty flavored foam into the sink, hazily watching frothy bubbles swirl into a curlicue across shining, white porcelain and down the drain. distantly, you wish it could’ve been you — whirling away, into inevitable darkness and quiet, if even for a day.

your electric, pink toothbrush is plopped back into the holder, right between a black and blue one.

you don’t need to look as you snatch your satin, fur trimmed, rosy colored robe from off of the bathroom door’s hook. your footsteps drag against cool, dark mahogany as you lug your tired body downstairs and while you’re holding onto the rail of the wide spiral staircase that opens up into the large opened area of the living space and kitchen, you’re suddenly aware that you had left your plush, teddy bear, house slippers up within the bedroom.

your toe is touching the landing upon the realization . . .

within the open designed kitchen, standing in front of the electric stove while flipping a thick piece of french toast in a skillet is eren.

you catch his eye first and you notice how a large smile instantly spreads itself across his soft lips at the sight of you. “and the princess arrives,” he richly sings.

at the sound of dragging feet, ony turns around from where he rummages within the fridge. it only takes them both a second to notice your current state. “awe, baby girl.” ony’s rounding the island where you take a seat at to gather your face within his hands. one holds you by the bottom of your jaw, your face planted within that area between his thumb and index while the other touches your forehead.

you’re frowning, physical contact usually your favorite way to be shown adoration and love, not appreciated today. you pull your face away from his touch, mewling.

ony doesn’t take too much offense to it, “you’re sick, ma’.”

“yeah, no shit.”

while you sniffle and snatch a paper towel from the roll to dab your dripping nose dry, a swift look is shared between eren and ony. to a stranger, it would’ve been seen as just a glance, however, you’ve known both men for too long. you take heed of eren’s obscure eyebrow twitch and ony’s responding furrowed ones.

they don’t like you cursing, you know this, howbeit, ony decides to give you a pass. the golden glow that seems to habitually reside within your skin has been paled, your eyes are heavy and sunken in, and your body shivers even while the heater within the highrise loft you all share sits at seventy six. you look like you hadn’t got a lick of sleep, although both eren and ony had been on either side of you the entire night.

“fuck, lemme go check if we have some tylenol or something.”

before eren can move, you’re shaking your head, “i checked already,” you huff. “there’s none or dayquil or robitussin. we don’t even have fucking vicks.”

ony folds his arms, “language,” his voice, deep and quiet, utters out. “this is your third time getting sick within ten weeks. ‘m sure you used it all up two weeks ago when you caught a fever.”

he’s right. he’s always right and while on better days, you appreciate that — his wisdom and intelligence — today, you just want to shove him away and bury yourself in a hole to keep from hearing that familiar lilt in his voice as he proves you wrong once more.

you heavily sigh, leaning your temple on your palm and that elbow on the cool island counter, turning away from him.

ony pushes himself back upright, leaning in to kiss your head while rounding the counter once more, “we’ll pick up some medicine today while we’re all out.”

“we’re all?”

you’re tired. your body aches, your head pounds, and you can’t breathe without sounding as though you’ve ran ten miles. you don’t want to even step a foot outside of your front door.

eren’s dusting powdered sugar across two pieces of french toast, cookie cut into hearts, that lay beside two patties of chicken sausage and scrambled eggs sprinkled with warm cheese and green onions. “yeah, mama,” he retorts softly, aware of your headache. “we both gotta go check on our shops and you have that meeting with your dean, hm. plus, you mentioned something about, uh—“

ony fills in when eren can’t exactly remember, “—you needing to go to that bookstore across town.”

goodness.

they’re right. you’ve been searching all throughout the web for a textbook needed for an important class this semester and while it’d been seemingly wiped from the internet or being sold by scalpers looking to make a profit of five times the amount of which they bought it for, you managed to finally find the book in stock at a quaint, little bookstore about forty minutes out from where you all lived.

you plop your head into your arms, feeling the common sensation of warm tears burning as they rise to the surface of your eyes. “hey, none of that,” eren makes you lift your head so that he can peck your lips. you grumble, swiftly turning your head when he pushes in for another one so that it lands upon the chub of your cheek.

“ ‘m gonna go eat in the living room.”

while usually you chirp a sweet ‘ thank you, papa ‘ and sit between the two men during breakfast, today, you grab your plate and slide out from your stool until your feet meet the floor. it’s as though you purposely drag the soles of them all the way to the family room area, knowing just how ony felt about that particular sound, until you make it towards the settee.

onyankopon thinks he feels his eye twitch.

he doesn’t say anything until the sound of bubbles, blossom, and buttercup’s voices playing from the heavy bass sound bar of the television is able to drown out the volume of his. “i know i’m not fuckin’ trippin’.”

“chill,” eren chuckles. he replaces your seat at the island, slowly chewing on a piece of sweet strawberry.

“nah, pa’, fuck that—“

“—you already know how she is when she’s sick,” while raking a hand through the waved, shoulder length tresses of his hair, eren pauses midway to scratch his scalp. even he doesn’t seem to confident in his words. “plus it’s still morning. let her shake it off.”

ony doesn’t do well with attitudes. not from you, not from eren, he doesn’t even tolerate them from himself. he gives a swift suck of his canine, side eyeing you before taking a generous bite of his toast. “she’s on strike one—“

“—already?” eren smacks his lips. “c’mon, man—“

“—i’m telling you right now, her lil ass is on strike one, eren.”

not always, however often the mediator between you both, eren takes a look at you over his shoulder. you sit upon the middle cushion of the u - shaped bellini sofa. you look so small from where him and ony stand — sweet and cute. “she’ll get it together,” he mumbles. “just be patient.”

when breakfast is done and the dishwasher is loaded, the three of you begin your own routines of getting ready. being that ony had already showered hours ago after his six am run, he only needed to slip into his fit which’d been a pair of thick, black sweats, a plain tee, black puffer coat, and his ‘ black cat ‘ fours, while you and eren washed up together. he also took it upon himself to put together the both of your ensembles, as well.

eren in a grey hoodie, black northface coat over it, and black cargos with a carhartt beanie and you, not owning a single pair of pants, in a pair of thick leggings whose shade matched beautifully with your skin tone, knitted pink skirt, and matching, heavy coat whose hood had been rimmed with fur.

that nasty scowl still rests upon your pretty face come you exiting the steamed bathroom with eren in tow. onyankopon can’t help but notice the defeat that shines clear across his boy’s face, albeit, still and all, he lets his words echo between his ears. ‘ just be patient. ‘

“c’mere,” he orders you softly. this is an everyday routine, him or eren lathering cream upon your body then dressing you up.

you pause midstep within the middle of the room, “. . i can do it—“

“—i didn’t ask you, ma’. i said, come here.”

you puff out your cheeks, frowning, allowing your feet to carry you to where ony sits upon the edge bed. he widens his legs to pull you in closer and you watch him drizzle your favorite birthday cake scented lotion within the cup of his heavy hand.

he begins the process at your leg, easy and slow, making you lift your little foot to rest upon his knee so that he can massage the moisturizer within the sole of it, up your calf, then thigh. quietly, he repeats the same to your other leg, then atop of your butt, your hips, tummy, arms — he doesn’t leave an inch of you untouched.

ony regards how you fight the urge to relax. your muscles would ease before you were tensing up again. and his eyes continuously look up into yours, gauging it all, trying to figure you out. what’s got his baby so upset? aside from you being sick was it another physical pain? mental? emotional? he watches you merely stare back down at him, all mean and viscous — you’re about as intimidating as a baby bun.

he doesn’t want to pressure you into telling him what was wrong. you don’t feel good, he’s aware, but he knows something deeper lies within that excuse. it shines bright within the deep brown of your eyes, clawing to reveal itself. “leg,” he mumbles, opening up your underwear. it’s white and cotton, little pink bow snug upon the trim of it in front. you stick one foot through the hole then the other, feeling him pull it up until it fits upon your hips. “good girl.”

a chill runs up your spine — warm and thick. you sniff, swiping your finger underneath your nose. eren notices from where he stands a few feet away while layering his jewelry.

he adjusts his watch upon his wrist as he walks over to the nightstand, sliding open the drawer to pluck a few kleenexes out from the box inside. “hm.” you hear his voice, you feel his body behind yours and watch his arm stretch out into your vision. “blow.”

you’re grumbling underneath your breath while leaning your face toward his hand that holds the napkins, inhaling a breath before huffing out some air through your nose. mucus shoots out, thick and viscid, consistency similar to honey. you grimace in disgust, turning your face away after two more.

“good job, baby,” eren sighs, sparing a quick glance at the mess.

yeah, you’re sick alright.

he tosses the dirtied napkins away, padding to the bathroom to wash his hands while ony zips up your coat. “you doin’ your make up today or no?”

you don’t answer his question, only push him away to go to the corner of the room where your vanity resides and take a seat.

not talking. he wants that to be strike two, he desperately does, nonetheless, he knows he’s getting a little bit ‘ palm ‘ happy and being unfair. he’ll consider it strike one and a quarter.

voice quiet, eren asks, “which car are we taking?” while adjusting a few silver rings on his tatted fingers.

ony takes a look at him — from the low bun that sat at the nape of his neck under his beanie, tatted neck, to the blinding white forces on his feet. he doesn’t have to say anything, he simply stands to walk over, not caring much about catching him off guard when grabbing him by his neck to pull him in for three soft pecks. “y’look good,” he mumbles onto the sweet skin of his lips. he tastes the vanilla of his chapstick — sugary and cloying. “we takin’ my car.”

he hears eren groan, quiet and soft, “keys,” he mutters against ony’s own.

“pocket . . get ‘em out.”

eren sucks his teeth, slipping his hand down the pocket of ony’s sweats, watching his boy slowly begin to smile over his bottom lip. “y’feel ‘em?”

he doesn’t answer his question, merely slips the ring of the keys onto his index finger, not missing the hardening rod of his cock, jumping against his palm. “you a fuckin’ menace, man.”

you take your sweet time completing your make up routine, switching out your purses, putting on your leg warmers and boots — nevertheless, both men remain considerate and forbearing. eren gathers you into his side, throwing his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a forehead kiss while you all walk down the quiet hall towards the elevator and yet, you remain stoic, arms folded and face even. “you look pretty, baby.”

“mm.”

eren rolls a piece of the inside of his jaw between his molars, “. . wanna sit in front—“

“—back.”

you slink yourself away from his side, quickening your steps to brush past them both. given all of your quips and smart comments, a seed of dread plants itself right within the base of your stomach at the scan of eren’s working jaw and heavy lidded gaze. you’re aware that it takes a bit more to drive the brunet up a wall. while ony’s a ticking time bomb, always three seconds from exploding, eren’s temper is more of the beginnings of a trickling stream of water before a tidal wave.

both frightening, both gut wrenching — one more monstrous and rare.

still, you shake off that fear when you’re seated in the set behind the passenger, head leaned upon the cool glass of the window.

eren’s tattoo shop is only a twenty minute drive from the condo. you’re a hair away from drifting off into that placid swithered state of consciousness and not when you hear the unbuckle of seatbelts.

“c’mon, baby.”

you whine. ony’s blacked out range rover has seat warmers and a reclining option — you’re comfortable. “no, i wanna stay here.”

eren’s pulling open your door not more than a second later. a sharp, bone chilling wind flies over your body, sending your teeth chattering and aching legs curling. he’s leaning over inside of the truck to unbuckle your seatbelt for you, dodging your squirms and shoves all the while, “i don’t know how long i’m goin’ to take in here. you gotta come.”

you’re snatching away from him come his hand taking yours. you all but slam the car door when you’re out, not missing the chance to glare directly into onyankopon’s dark eyes as you do so, then you’re stomping your little feet up the cemented ramp that leads to the door of eren’s shop.

“that’s her second strike.”

a low chime signals your entry. you utter soft hi’s toward mikasa, sasha, and armin on your way towards the back where you know eren’s office is.

nobody misses the extra weight in your steps and how quick you do so. looks are passed between the employees and all is silent, aside from the dull buzz of machines whirring, until ony and eren are stepping inside, dusting snow off of their coats.

“what did the two of you do to her?”

mikasa’s eyes are slitted with her rising suspicion. never has she seen you so irked. you’re normally a sweet, little thing — offering them homemade pastries and pretty charm bracelets beaded with their nicknames. you don’t normally brush past them so quickly.

“not a damn thing,” eren releases a heavy breath.

ony chimes in a quiet, “yet,” while plopping down within the leather seat near beside the door.

sasha hums from her stall near back, eyes focused on the piece she works on in efforts to get her shading precise, “baby girl looks about ready to kill someone.”

ony scoffs, adjusting his sox cap atop his head, “lil ass can’t even swat at a fly let alone kill somebody.”

chuckles fill the room.

“no, no, wait. she’s so little.”

“fuckin’ tiny thing.”

“and she’s walkin’ around huffin’ and puffin’ like she ‘bout some’n.”

you hear them all. your nails impale into the fleshy meat of your palms as you sit at eren’s desk, jaw clenched. the utter disregard of your feelings not only makes tears fizz up the rim of your eyes, however, goes straight to your heart which pangs a sharp zing and shoots up more rushing blood to agitate your migraine further. you just want your bed.

sniffling, you lay your head down upon the desk, closing your eyes to block out the built in ceiling lighting. you can hear a set of footsteps padding towards the room. you keep your eyes shut.

it’s the both of them.

you can smell eren’s cologne — rich and woodsy — and hear the material of onyankopon’s coat rubbing as he moved his arm.

“jus’ leave her,” eren mumbles. you hear him powering up the apple computer in front of you then the mouse rolling. “i gotta check these invoices.”

you move your head, creaking your eyes open. he leans over you, one hand on the back of the large chair you sit in and the other directing the mouse here then there across the desk. the blue light of the computer illuminates the handsome features of his face and you take heed of his eyes, a gorgeous teal, leaning towards a more mossy green, darting across the screen. his face is focused and you notice how he nibbles along the inside of his bottom lip which makes his dimples play peek a boo within his cheeks.

when your congested sniffle rings through the quiet room, you quickly shut your eyes again before eren can catch you staring.

ony’s voice is quiet when he says, “we gotta pick her up some soup. i know her fuckin’ throat is killing her.”

“yeah, duke’s? — on the corner of rose and lakewood — shit has the best wild rice and mushroom soup. think it also helps detox.”

“mm, for real? we’ll get her that then.”

it doesn’t take eren long to answer a few emails, send in invoices, take a call, then lock his computer. you’re back nuzzled within your seat in the car by the time the clock strikes eleven forty five.

periodically, ony glances at you through the rear view mirror while he drives, noting how you had your body turned towards the door and hood pulled up over your head. he can’t see your face . . and that irks him. he’s sure this will sound selfish of him, but for so many suns, the only things able to soothe him, motivate him, keep him going has been both yours and eren’s faces — your features pretty and delicate in your own respected ways. in ways he can’t describe, when he gazes at you both, ony all but wants to give you the entire world.

you know when you arrive at his auto and detailing shop when you hear connie’s voice at the window.

“fuck you doin’ here, bossman?”

the car settles in park as ony frees himself from the seatbelt, “gotta check on y’all niggas and pick up some shit. aye, where’s braun?”

his voice fades away once he gets out of the car and heads toward the interior of a garage. you curl in closer within your seat, letting out a sweet mewl when that ache settled within the tissue of your muscles makes itself known once more. “we’re almost done, mama,” eren sighs. he loathes seeing you like this. “your campus, bookstore, then the pharmacy. couple more stops.”

you groan, “i know, eren.” you don’t need him to remind you that it’s going to be at least two more hours until you’re back home nuzzled within your warm bed.

the brunet rolls his lips within his mouth, contemplating his next choice of words. it’s an inquisitive globe rolling from left to right within his head — left being his more empathetic half come knowing the reaction that’ll sleeve over your attitude if he were to say it, however, the right not caring and wanting to see you choke up. “. . . ‘yan has you on strike two.”

“what?”

you’re lifting your head come the statement pushing past eren’s lips and into the interior of the quiet car, eyes round with shock as your heart staggers on its next beat. eren doesn’t even turn his head over his shoulder to look at you, only unwraps a caramel apple flavored sucker he’d slipped out of his pocket, prior to sticking it within his mouth, “mhm,” he slyly murmurs. “one more and you know what that means . .” and it isn’t always solely ony that calls the strikes, although more aberrant, eren can too.

“. . b-but ‘m sick—“

he shifts his head from left to right. eren had known you’d pull the excuse. the hard candy clicks against his teeth as his tongue moves it about within his mouth, “— don’t matter. i know you’re feeling tired today, pretty girl, but you gotta fix that attitude.”

you want to.

you want to scream and huff and kick and throw a good, old fashioned tantrum because, ironically, you do want to be good. you want that aerial, golden halo above your head each time your boyfriends take a glance of you to remain, however, it’s as though that part of you has taken a leave for the day — you couldn’t find her even if you tried. that golden ring has been reformed into tiny, red pointed horns taken home within the bubblegum pink and black beach waves of your sew in and a thin, forked tail at the base of your back. you huff and fold your arms, returning back to your previous position. “ ‘s not fair.”

it’s not fair.

you want to blame your crankiness on your cold, even so, you know that wouldn’t be true. and at the view of eren pulling out his phone, reclining his seat back, and widening his legs — a lounging position to showcase his content within the situation, that little spark that’s been lit inside of your tummy only flares brighter. your tone is a snap as you hiss, “that’s not fair, eren.”

“mhm.” he ignores your tell tale, beginning signs of a fit to reach inside the middle console where he knows ony keeps a packet of cough drops. the packet crinkles as he slips his hand in, grabs a few, then outstretches his arm behind himself, “here, baby.”

you sneer at his hand, making an entire show of grumbling and droning until you’re opening your own, allowing him to drop them within it.

you don’t know how long ony has you both waiting — you’re only to quietly watch through the window as he moves throughout the lot, admiring the work of an iridescent, pearl wrapped lamborghini, directing an employee there then here, holding a clipboard which he flipped through quickly prior to handing it back into the hands of reiner.

cool melon, eucalyptus, and peppermint oils soothe the channel of your throat as you suckle on a cough drop, watching him stand with his arms folded a few minutes later. his eyes are locked onto the light blond spheres of jean’s own who had been seemingly explaining something while gesturing to a bentley a few garages away.

you notice that the inside of the car is completely barren — the seats have been taken out.

ony’s face is morphing. eyebrows dropping, corners of his lips pulling low, and his chin is tilting the slightest bit higher. tiny pimples rise along the surface of your skin as you regard his demeanor. it’s familiar.

upon eren taking a rendezvous trip with his friends to vegas for two nights without letting either of you know, as soon as he had came home and stepped foot across the threshold, ony had been there — same stature, same facial expression, same guise. and when he begins to speak, jaw grinding and his tone more clear while pointing between the car, jean, and himself, you don’t have to say it because eren already notices, “shit,” he mumbles, looking out towards the scene. “pa’s pissed.”

the conversation ends with jean giving a firm nod, eyes casted not downwards but close enough. you read his lips before he walks off, ‘ i gotchu, boss. ‘

ony rubs a hand down his face, shaking his head for a split second, prior to calling something out to connie then making his way towards the truck.

the edges of your teeth penetrate the now flattened disc of the cough drop laying against your tongue to break it into tiny pieces and you’re swallowing the balm come ony slipping in and then shutting the car door.

“wassup?” the emeralds of eren’s eyes are flicking all over his boy’s face, examining it for a better read of the emotions ony’s too good at concealing. “talk.”

ony shakes his head, smoothly reversing out of the large lot, “nun i cant handle, pa,” he murmurs after a sniff, pressing the resume button located upon the steering wheel to recommence lucki’s leave her softly playing through the speakers.

“nah, quit that,” eren lowers the volume even more. “you always do this shit — let stuff pile up and stress you the fuck out then you come home and hole yourself up in a room, only to blow the fuck up at a pen dropping.”

as big on communicating ony is, when it’s boiled down to himself, he doesn’t hold the same regard. what’re things he wouldn’t put up with from you and eren are some he also does, though doesn’t expect to be nor appreciates being, called out on. it’s an interesting topic to delve into upon you realizing that ony had been the one to really throw himself into learning more about the relationship dynamic you all shared near the first couple months of you all making it official — watched videos, read books and articles the sizes of novels — all efforts unneeded when he plainly stated, ‘ shit is jus’ like monogamous relationships with more communication. we need to communicate above everything else for us to work. ‘

through the corner of your eye, you watch confliction dance upon the handsome features of ony’s face — he takes off his cap, scratches his head, puts it back on, rolls his lips into his mouth, then huffs out a breath through his nose. “that gt s? client wants white interior with grey trimming. was expected to be done by the end of this week, at most, eight days from now, but j put in the wrong request. we have that shit shipped from fucking developers in countries a day ahead of us,” he explains, pupils locked on the road ahead of him. “so now we gotta put in the fucking request again, wait for them to ship the material, have it come here and do what we need to do. shit pushes us out like two weeks, maybe more.”

eren lets himself soak it all in. it’s a stressful situation sure, but, “you said this is a loyal client of yours, right? what, like, this his fifth car bein done by you?” when a confirmation is given, eren relaxes, “. . ‘m not gonna lie, ‘yan, if he wasn’t, you’d be fucked. let him know all this, he should understand.”

the drive to your campus is more quiet than usual. what had been slight conversation and laughter between the two men on the drive to eren’s shop is now tensed. a stranger could see how taut ony appears now, mind elsewhere as he rubs the short hairs hanging from his chin, eyes focused though mind far some place else, while he drives.

you’re a quiet thing come the truck falling into park in front of your university’s administration building. “c’mon, ma.”

it’s a short meeting — you’re congratulated on your achievement on making the dean’s list, told your attendance needs just the slightest bit more work, and aided in the process of choosing which few classes are needed in order for you to receive your degree come the following semester.

“damn,” ony’s mumbling while scanning the sheet of your transcript you’d given him after exiting the office where he and eren sat in the chairs beside. “all a’s, a couple b’s. good job, mama, we gotta get you somethin’.”

the decision between an all expense mall trip or a vacation is screeched into a halt come your rolled eyes and snide comment, “well, duh. ‘m not a fucking dumbass.”

you’re positive that the world goes completely silent.

you had expected a firm ‘ language ‘ or even a quick spank when shielded behind the heavy body of ony’s truck — you’d expected him to be the one to do so, albeit, it’s eren who presses you back against the trunk. your gasp echoes off of the wet, cemented walls within your campus’ near empty underground parking garage.

your eyes are rounded with panic come the hand around your throat, squeezing it. concurrently, eren’s face is completely barren of emotion when he says, “third strike.”

you go to squirm your way out of his hold, wiggling and pushing, however, he’s pressing you closer against the trunk, angling his head down. you’re left to keep yourself still, fear rushing through your veins near the speed of light come the sight of his warm breath being expelled into frigid air as he speaks, foggy and thin, “stop fuckin’ playing with me and get y’lil ass in the car . . now.”

his hold on you is heavy as he directs your steps around the car, to the backseat. you watch him open the door and given your trembling knees and shallow breaths, you’re whining, “eren, quit it,” as you climb in.

“it’s been over three nonstop hours of your smart ass mouth, mama. i’m sick of it. you already know what you in for later.”

you’d thought that he wouldn’t be serious, nonetheless, at the reminder you’re pouting your lips and shaking your head, “w-wait, no, ‘m sorry—”

“—i bet.”

you don’t want to be reminded of your last reprimands — the no touching, the bounding, the spanks.

your tears are a play on their emotions, both men are aware, “i didn’t even do anything that bad today,” you’re mewling come on the drive to the bookshop.

ony glances at you through the rear view’s reflection. he sees your folded arms, pouted, shimmering lips, the fire that still dances beneath your eyes. you never learn your lesson. “sure about that, ma’?” he asks, taking in the way you barely nod as you gaze back at him. “you already know how we feel about that cussin’ shit—“

“—that’s not fair!”

“i’m not bouta explain this shit again ‘cause you already know why,” he calmly retorts, eyes refocused on the road. “you slammin’ doors, stompin’ all over the place, ignorin’ people — and you seriously don’t think you did anything wrong?”

the last syllable of the word is popped as you quip a quiet, “nope.”

“alright.”

ony decides to go that route, too. that oblivious route, that arrogant route. you’re aware both him and eren are men of their word, he doesn’t understand why you’re so keen on pressing a huge, red button on their nerves labeled ‘ don’t touch ‘ — damn near slamming your fists on it, actually.

the bookstore errand is quick and eren goes alone into the pharmacy to pick up your medicine, followed by a vial of vitamins in efforts to build up your clearly fragile immune system.

home is after a soup and tea grab and you purposely drag your feet on the way to the elevator, pouty and mean faced while both men intentionally walk behind you, annoyingly patient.

“don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, mama.”

your bow studded, acrylic topped middle finger acts as a silent reply to eren’s statement. you figure that since you’re already so deep within the pool of their vexation, why not swim out even further?

given the façade of your big and bad girl shield, as soon as the front door to the apartment is open, you’re fighting to make a run for it.

“eek, no!” you’re squealing when eren grabs you by the waist mid sprint and tosses you akin to a lump of produce over the firm hill of his shoulder. “eren, i swear—“ your threat is broken by a coughing fit. the sound of mucus rings clear within everyone’s ears and you’re letting out a harsh sneeze upon your butt being planted in a seat at the island. “y-you both — so mean.”

“shit’s gonna make you drowsy.” onyankopon’s pouring the thick, turquoise colored cough syrup within the small cap provided, disregarding your comment. he fills it to the brim before handing it to you. “swallow.”

you’re obeying, shockingly, turning your nose up and wrinkling your brows come the taste.

“here.”

eren holds out three gummies, pink, orange, and purple, in the shapes of organs — intestines, heart, and lungs. you’re popping them within your mouth quickly to chase the bitter flavor of the medication, needy for the soup that ony begins to grab from within a paper bag. how quick they are to take care of you softens your heart. you wish you’re able to exude that feeling in the forms of your usual kisses and hugs and smiles, nonetheless, you merely grab your bowl of soup to quietly begin to eat without another glance given.

you hear them begin to move around — doors shutting, tv powering on, sighs from the long day being expelled from heavy chests. “fuck do i wanna make for dinner?” eren mumbles from his position in front of the fridge. “wait, nah — yan’?” his voice rises to catch ony’s attention from upstairs.

you can hear him walking towards the landing that overlooks the first floor while mumbling, “yeah?”

“dinner. i want you to make that salmon.”

ony’s soft, dark chuckle makes your heart swoon, “nah, you want me to make?”

eren’s smile makes your tummy swarm with butterflies,“ ‘m not beggin’, man.”

“aight, jaeger,” he utters, stepping away from the railing. “fuck it.”

when you’re done with your soup, eren and ony are both upstairs. the effects of the medicine has already begun to sink in, blurring your sight, lidding your eyes. you’re sniffling as you slowly slug yourself inside of the bedroom where eren sits upon the edge of the bed, cleaning his shoes, and ony showering in the bathroom.

at first sight of you, eren’s softening. he simply can’t help it. you’re too precious, you’re too pretty. given all your whines, you’re still his baby. “c’mere, bug.”

you’re sagging within him when he opens his arms, feeling him plop you down on his lap so that he can pull off your shoes, leg warmers, then the rest of your clothes. it leaves you in your undergarments which you’re comfortable with and you go to crawl underneath the weighted duvet and lay against your pillow, letting the soothing arms of sleep envelop you.

”did you ever have intercourse in this office?”

”. . . are you serious? ugh — where? . . where . . . . where, dwight?”

”seems like you already know where.”

you wake to the sound of a soft chuckle. it flows through the canals of your ears and compels you to flutter open your eyes, fixing them upon eren whose body lays right beside your own.

your sniffle is the sound that makes him look down at you from his position of being propped up on one, flexed arm. “hey,” he gently mumbles, eyes checking your face for signs of any discomfort. “finally up?”

you give a leisure nod, rolling over onto your back to slowly pull your arms above your head, fingers interlocked, then arch your back upwards.

“big stretch.”

ony turns his head over his shoulder from his position seated at the edge of the bed, wine red durag tied tight upon it, to watch you. you give a long moan as you do so, hearing a few bones crack as they realign themselves more comfortably within your back. eren shifts beside you, moving about until a glass of cool water is being transferred into your hand, “c’mon, drink.”

the world outside is dark and the heavy, white curtains that normally shield the wall of a window beside the bed are wide open. city lights — studs of whites, yellows, blues, and reds glimmer and wispy, grey clouds akin to stretched cotton shift slowly across the skies.

gratefully, you sit up to gulp down the water, releasing a soft sigh when all done.

“good girl.”

you rub your eye with your knuckles as eren sets the glass down upon the nightstand and ony turns himself back forward. “you sleep good?”

“mhm.”

you find yourself reaching over to climb your body atop of the brunet beside you and he lets you. “shit,” you hear the grin in his voice as he starts to rub his hand along your back. “what’s this? . . i thought i was so mean earlier?”

you feel a sweltering burn flourish from your cheeks to your nose. you bury your face into his shoulder, refusing to say a word.

“mm, you get some food, medicine, and sleep in you and now you actin’ right?” eren thumbs with the lace of your underwear and hastily, earlier’s affairs fly through your brain, frame by frame corresponding a montage. “can’t say it doesn’t make sense. ‘s all you ever need now’days, hm?” the door slamming, the swears, the molten heat glowing bright within eren’s eyes as he called out your final strike.

you’re shifting your body to rise up on your palms and look at him, however, eren’s heavy arm is suddenly pulling you back down, not allowing you to move.

“don’t do it,” his utter is delicate. “don’t even try it.”

you kick out your legs come the sound of the tv shutting off. no longer does sound drown out how your breath begins to quicken and the beginning trills of your whimpers. it’s all happening too fast, you need to breathe, “w-wait, wait—“

“—you couldn’t have thought that we forgot, baby girl.”

ony’s tone is soft. it’s adapting that pitch where he speaks to you as if you were nothing but a stupid, little thing who doesn’t know left from right — as if your head had been filled with nothing but glitter and moondust.

eren’s humming, letting his palm slowly slide from your back to the cheeks of your ass. his fingers knead the soft flesh, similar to dough, squeezing and rubbing, occasionally rolling. “was gonna have you write lines, maybe force you to do some housework with no clothes on — take it easy on you, but . .” air is pulled within his mouth through his teeth. a sharp sound is heard followed by the wind whistling as his palm cuts through it to quickly fall down onto the round globe of your left ass cheek. the way you immediately burst into tears is simply delightsome. “at the way you was talkin’ and actin’ today, i knew you wouldn’t have learned your lesson.”

your head is lifted by the back of your neck so that you can face ony who now stands beside the bed. you’re sniffling, sweet brown eyes laminated with tears, “o-ony . . ‘rennie, please.”

“you beggin’?” he’s smiling over his bottom lip, teeth white and flawlessly aligned. “awe, shit. she’s beggin, baby.”

eren lets another swat fall. you squeak, hands instinctively reaching out to cover your skin from another. “wanna move ‘em or do we have to hold ‘em—“

“—m-move, i’ll . .” you swallow, shaking your head. you don’t want that. “i’ll move them, ‘rennie.”

ony lets you go, allowing your face to fall back inside the pocket of eren’s neck. you hear him murmur something about ‘ lube ‘ and the simple word signals your toes to curl because you’re aware of the harsh, blissful decadence you’re sure to endure come only minutes from now.

“no counting,” eren mumbles against your ear. “gonna stop when i feel like you’ve had enough.”

the spanks he rains down on your ass are nothing short of cruel and quick. unlike ony, eren doesn’t have a rhythm. he doesn’t subject you to alternate hits upon each cheek at a steady clip, no, he’d swat three against your right, two on your left, one near that pretty cusp where your thigh and ass met, then another near the inside of it.

you’re sobbing, pulling at the hold his singular hand that the both of your wrists eventually find themselves locked into.

your skin stings — it burns with the onslaught of a calloused palm employing just enough strength to blossom bruises upon the gentle canvas.

midway, eren lifts up and swings his legs to plant his feet on the floor, leaving you laid over his lap. the position makes it easier to keep your squirming under control. he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to watch the way the brown, plump orbs of your ass recoil and bounce back with each hit, too. “awe,” his chuckle shakily breaks the syllables of the word. your weeps underlying the thick smacks of skin on skin were absolutely adorable. “you can take it, my love. ‘s what you wanted. this had to be what you’ve been needin’.”

you hate his words because you’re aware that there’s a tiny shred inside of you that knows they’re true. with each jew shelled tear that manifests from the rinds of your eyes and drips down your sweet cheeks is a stress relieved. as you tense with each hit, you also melt against him, weakening, and your mind drains just a bit more along with it.

“mmm,” eren’s voice is a deep hum as he pauses for a moment to roll your warm ass against his palm. “there you go.”

he lands another spank, watching your body jolt. you no longer fight, only cry.

“spread her.”

ony’s voice is similar to a bucket of cold water being splashed against you after a week of baking in a sauna. you feel eren release your wrists, prior to your hips being yanked up to assemble you onto your knees, back curved in. “that‘s right,” ony’s mumbling as the familiar cap of a bottle opening rings inside of your ears. “lift that ass up.”

when rough hands are spreading you open, you’re whining, trying to get a look at what was happening though all you were able to see was eren’s bare, tatted arms holding you and ony standing behind. “w-wha’ — daddy, wait—“

“—spit on it, baby,” he’s mumbling to eren.

a glob of warm saliva is shot onto the tight, winking hole of your ass before being rubbed in with a thumb. both sensations induce a warm shiver that takes over your spine, provoking your fingers to grip the sheet underneath you. “mhm,” a sleeker finger, a rougher one, does the same before it begins to sink inside, nice and slow. you whine, clenching, kicking out your feet.

both men watch how your hole swallows the digit greedily, all the way to the knuckle, pulsing around it. ony isn’t impressed. he makes the ring of muscle loosen by stroking his middle finger in and out until he’s able to pushing in his ring right along side of it.

your pussy thumps underneath, little hole leaking out a trickle of translucent sap that thickens into an orb at your clit.

“gon’ fuck that attitude right outta’ you, mama. don’t even worry about it.”

you find yourself pushing back into his hand, dizzy and gone as you whine, “d-don’t have an attitude anymore, pa’.”

another smack to your ass. you whimper.

“yeah, i know.”

eren spits once more, watching the liquid slip between ony’s fingers, only to get pushed inside of you upon an inwards thrust. the way your ass swallows the appendages is prizewinning. it’s shocking because, “when’s the last time we fucked it?”

ony’s eyes are focused on his fingers as he murmurs, “ ‘bout three months ago, right before that fuckin’ halloween party.”

eren thinks he’s drooling come that orb at your clit beginning to lengthen into a sticky, dangling thread between your legs. “mm, shit, ‘s right,” he lets his mind flash him back. “fuckin’ lola bunny costume.”

you had wore nothing but a tiny, cropped basketball jersey with matching shorts whose hemming stopped right after the half cup of your ass. eren thinks it had been the tall, clip in bunny ears and matching ball of fluff that did it for him, contrarily, ony’s undoing had been the thigh high socks.

they had taken you on the floor within the foyer like two rabid animals. you’d been two hours late to the party and couldn’t sit down in fear of wincing in front of the wrong person.

when you’re able to take almost four fingers is when ony and eren let you go. you fall onto your back against the bed, feeling your undergarments being slipped from off of your body after. it leaves you bare, chest heaving, and limbs trembling.

both eren and ony wear nothing but sweats. tatted skin is displayed — black ink against dark brown and olive dusted skin. “bring that ass here.”

when you find yourself in a position that has your head hanging from the ledge of the bed, face only inches away from ony’s groin, you know exactly what to expect. “daddy, be gentle.”

he can’t help but laugh at your statement. the absolute nerve of you. had you been gentle earlier? gentle with your words, your tone, with eren and him? “open that shit.” his cock springs from the inside of his sweats come his thumb pulling down the waistband to rest underneath the heavy sac of his balls. you admire it up close — the dark mahogany of his shaft and the multitude of veins pulsing across it, the dark rouge of his leaky tip where a thick dewdrop of precum sits — it all makes your clit thump, rushing with blood, hardening and swelling.

come your mouth slowly creaking open, ony has to wait until a large enough gap is revealed for him to push himself in. you choke as he groans, eyes rolling back and closing at the feel of your throat spasming. “fuck, ‘s exactly what y’lil ass needed — dick in y’mouth to get that attitude in check.”

he gazes at your plump bottom lip and the way your throat bulges as you swallow him down. you sweetly snivel, pretty fingers lifting to your tits to pinch your nipples between two of them, rolling and pulling.

you feel a weight settle between your legs as two hands force your thighs apart.

soft hair tickles the insides of them as eren leans down to peck a delicate kiss against your clit, watching your pussy greet him with a splurt of warm cream. he hadn’t wanted to give you what was clear you craved so quick, but damn, it’s hard. he can’t help himself come his tongue swiping out for a taste and partaking in that sweet, tangy flavor distinct to only you. he hums quietly, aligning his top lip near the base of your mound while the bottom of his jaw rises up and down as his tongue strokes wetly over your clit, suckling and swallowing.

you whine around ony’s cock, knees bending around eren’s head.

“nah, focus,” he mumbles, wrapping his hand around your throat while his own form a slight hook so that he can begin to rock his dick, smoothly in and out of your mouth. “f-fuck, yes — there you go.” the sight of it drives him mad. you’re taking him so swell — gurgling, slurping, and chugging. the insides of your cheeks are soft while the duct of your throat is tight and ridged. he has to give a little push each time his dick pushes inside to work it through. how such a sweet mouth can fix the nastiest things to say baffles ony completely.

he can tell that this was what you’ve been needing, can tell that all that backtalk was the usual angel in you banging against the charade you’ve put on all day to come out. ony knows she’s not all the way free, nevertheless. you’re not pleading as much as you usually do, there’s no clawing, desperate hands, and high pitched squeals layered under sweet cries of titillation.

when he pulls his dick from your mouth, you don’t beg for it back, only pout.

ony slaps his tip against the plump skin of your lips, over and over. smack. smack. smack. he lets strings of his precum drip over them, your chin, your cheeks, your nose. he wants you to feel degraded — wants you to realize that you can never win the battle against the two of them when it’s heavy sighs and bratty banter as your defense.

you’re whimpering, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, body twitching and little frown pulling at your lips. you look about two seconds away from tears, ony loves that.

“ima let you handle her, pa’,” he mumbles, swatting a firm enough smack against the side of your face to get you to open your eyes once more. “break her in. make’er cry.”

the smile on his face unnerves you.

“yeah?” eren shoots a blob of spit on your pussy before sliding up to hover above you, one hand pressed into the mattress beside your head, and the other beginning to toy with your clit. “bet.”

with them both above you, you soon begin to fall into your place. “wait—“

“—wait, wait, wait,” eren drones in a low mime of your voice, lifting himself to snatch you in closer. “no more waitin’, baby. you fucked up. if you knew you couldn’t take this shit, you shouldn’t have dished it out.”

he folds you up, firmly pushing your legs until your knees press into the thousand dollar sheets your head lies upon. shoved into a position so callous has you almost eyesight with your own cunt.

you see the way a bead of slick clings onto your lip before beginning a mocking trail down the crease of your thigh. it’s humiliating.

“mm,” eren bites his lip. similar to ony, he doesn’t take his sweats completely off, merely pulls them down just enough to tug his heavy cock out.

your eyes are hazed over as you watch his ruddy tip begin to rock along your slit. those three, little silver barbells, pierced within the mite of skin and running vertically underneath his frenulum induce a needy moan, “daddy, please.”

“quiet.”

he takes his time, using his thumb as a hold to keep his fat crown in place as his cock strokes your clit up and down, up and down. your pretty lashes flutter as you close your eyes and grab hold of your thighs. “yeah,” he hums. waves of his hair fall down over his shoulders, blanketing his face. his eyes appear brighter within the darkened lighting of the room. “lean into it, mama — you feel it?”

“mhm.”

a few feet away, ony pushes open the sliding door so that he can step out onto the balcony. he stands within the threshold, between the platform and the bedroom all in efforts to keep a keen eye on you both while he sparks a blunt he holds between his lips, hand cupped around the flame ignited from his lighter.

he can’t see much — only eren’s flexing back and your little feet but he knows when eren slides inside of you.

you gasp, loud and long, and your toes tense before they curl.

“oh, shit.”

eren groans at the sensation of your walls — grooved, warm, and soppy — hugging the circumference of his cock as he pushes in. you don’t deserve the usual soft, sweet kisses eren’s prone to leaving across your lips and fluff of your cheeks when he has you in a position so vulnerable, no, you deserve his hand wrapped around your throat and the deep, hard thrusts he’s immediately pounding into your cunt as soon as he deems you ready for them.

the way a trickle of drool begins to slip down your face from your opened mouth and your eyes scroll back into your head as you take it shouldn’t be so fucking attractive.

the music of slapping skin, long moans, and squeaky sobs ricochets off of the walls into ony’s ears. he considers weed a wondrous drug — the best of the best. too many times has a blunt saved him from stressing himself out into a stroke, from either dealing with his job, his family, on the occasion, you. he adores it because when the effects of the drug start to catalyze, he’s able to focus on one, or rather tonight, two things only. you and eren.

his eyes hone in on the thick, umber curls of eren’s hair, free from its usual elastic and running down to stop at his shoulders. a gorgeously etched tat of a faceward, teeth baring dragon, bordered with branches of cherry blossoms inks the entire canvas of his back. shades of pinks, reds, whites, and yellows ripple harder and harder the firmer he fucks you.

“move y’fuckin’ hand, ( ❤︎ ).”

despite his words, eren pushes your hand away himself from pressing against the front of his pelvis. your entire body shivers as if you were a withered leaf in the fall. “s-so deep, papa,” you’re mewling, back arching upwards into a semilune as he presses in nice and full once more. feeling his tip tapping at that familiar textured barrier nestled far inside of you, you press at him once more, “unh, t-too deep . . c-can’t take — noo.”

“ ‘s not your decision,” eren takes a moment to stroke his thumb across your bottom lip. he’s pleased to watch your tongue curl around it so that you can pull it further into your mouth when he leans forward and begins to fuck you harder. “f-fuck — pussy’s made for me, hm. bet you know, mmph, better now than to act like that.”

your g spot is found when your legs intertwine around eren’s slim waist so that you’re able to tug him in further. your hips tilt up which allows his pierced tip to begin stroking the roof of your pussy, right up against that magical little button.

tears are immediate. no longer are words capable. what some you do churn in your brain get lost on the brisk trip through your nervous system and out your mouth, leaving nothing but intelligible babbles to leave your lips.

“there we go,” eren’s groaning, breaths hard and chuffed as he trades his rhythm for a more steady pull out then quick slam in. “c’mon — f-fuck yes — take it, mama. take it for me.”

ony hears you squeak as your charm studded nails drag belts of red across his hips. you’re cumming. he hears it in your tone. he commends eren for breaking you so quickly. you’re weeping and sniffling, fingers holding onto his biceps as you sweetly sob for him to ‘ give you a second. ‘

eren quiets you with a kiss. his lips move smoothly against yours as his cock fucks you through your orgasm — not slowing nor stopping. “you’re so pretty,” he mumbles into the heat of your mouth, hips circling on the thrusts in. “ungh . . fuck, you’re s-so fuckin’ pretty.” this is supposed to be about teaching you a lesson, but, when you look up at him like that, with your eyes shimmering with tears, body trembling, lips parted, you look like you feel so good, eren can’t help but let a praise slip in here and there.

“mm,” you give a loopy, little smile with your eyes closed simultaneously when a splash of wetness squirts out around his dick. “y-you’re, oh, prettier, daddy.”

eren huffs a chuckle into your neck, “g-gonna, ‘m gonna cum. you ready?”

you interlock your arms around his neck, nodding into his shoulder, “m-mhm.”

he wholeheartedly adores how your pretty, little pussy likes to begin to flutter around him — muscles pumping across the thick pillar of his cock, trying its best to work his nut free come each time he warns you of his release. eren doesn’t even think you intentionally do it, your tiny cunt is just always so desperate and hungry and needy for it that it happens involuntarily.

“m-my pretty girl,” he huffs, bowing his forehead against the bouncing hill of your tit. your fingers find his nape and they scratch along it, overwhelming only the best parts of eren’s brain. his eyes are rolling back, he even thinks a trickle of drool is slipping down the corner of his lips. “fuckin’ — ohhh . . shit. gonna be our wife, hm? jus’ ours?”

“only yours.”

the words quake over the trills of your hiccups, moans, and the sound of slapping skin. you make sure eren can hear you when you mewl out a more quiet, “only daddies’,” into the cusp of his ear, not at all stunned come the immediate feeling of thick warmth pulsing into you soon after. he holds you tight, arms wrapped underneath your back to completely hold you against his chest as his hips continue to rock and pivot, pressing his dick in deeper, making sure his cum sticks.

“mm,” you loll your head to the side, sweetly sated and dazed. “love your cum.” potent, sweet, and a pearly white. birth control is your only savior because you know it’d only take a single load of his to knock you up, if not by twins, then maybe triplets.

“i love you,” he mumbles in reply. you feel a soft peck at the center of your rib cage before his head is lifting so that he can mimic another upon your gentle lips. “so much.”

you don’t want him to pull out just yet, however, ony’s quiet “baby boy.” prompts eren’s attention.

he lifts up on a hand while the other slips between you two so that he can cautiously begin to slide his cock from out of you. “mm, yeah, pa’?” he breathes softly, eyes locked on your swollen clit — pink and smooth.

“need you to do somethin’ for me.”

you watch eren slip off of the bed and walk, clearly weak limbed, over to where ony stands by the balcony door. he utters something to him, low and incomprehensible. eren seems to understand because he gives him a nod, prior to leaning into him for a kiss after ony takes a hit of his blunt.

“don’t get me fuckin’ started, jaeger,” ony utters, watching him inhale the smoke stolen from his mouth.

eren breathes it out through his nose, soft smile playing on his lips, “nah, you didn’t even ask if i wanted a hit, ‘yan. fuck you.”

blame it on the weed because in another case, ony would normally be lightning quick in snatching him up, albeit, he can only take a small step toward eren before he’s quickly dodging him to head for the closet.

around his blunt, ony delicately utters. “nun but two fuckin’ brats i got, man,” before stubbing it out and shutting the balcony door.

his steps are slow and lazy as he walks over to where you lay. the moonlight enshrouds you beautifully. he’s able to see the sheen of sweat that glazes your forehead, the still glistening luster of eren’s saliva over your nipples and neck — the cum that drips out of your battered, little pussy.

how eren’s able to ruin you, so brisk and effortlessly at that, stupefies ony. and though he knows you’re sensitive, all of you know how easy it is to play your body like a fiddle, ony still just can’t help but think regardless, if any other person were to be in their shoes, they wouldn’t be able to do what the two of them can — you prove this statement correct each time the three of you find yourselves in a predicament like this.

“you know you fucked up, right?” the question is more of an assertion. you tense when ony grabs you by the ankle to tug you more to the edge, then by the waist to flip you over.

“mm-mm.”

maybe you did. you’re aware your attitude could’ve been . . considerably better today. still, it isn’t your fault that she wanted to come out and play — the brat in you, that is. it’s not.

you hear eren walking back toward you both when ony yanks your hips up so that you kneel, breasts pressed against the bed and back arched. he hands him something.

eren wants to slip in a ‘ take it easy on her ‘ because he sees what type of timing ony is on. he’s a backshot kind of guy, sure, nonetheless, usually he prefers to see your face — have you ride him, bounces you on his cock while he stands up, the occasional full nelson.

you have fucked up.

and eren had known ony was upset, but he didn’t know he’d be this pissed.

how his lubed up cock ends up pounding that sweet, little hole above your pussy is beyond all three of you. how you managed to slip and end up prone bone between the fat wand of a vibrator on your clit and ony on top of you is also a mystery unsolved.

words are impossible, making a sound is damn near vain when you feel the swaying, solid sac of ony’s balls smacking against your cunt with each downwards thrust of his dick inside of your ass. each time you find one of their heavy cocks buried inside of a cavern so tight and small — you think you go a little bit brain dead. you don’t want to move from your spot in fear of feeling him pull out. you wish you’re able to keep him here, inside of you until the end of your days, when dusks blur into dawns and the world whizzes past you.

“you know what he wants, ma’.”

eren’s presence only worsens that aching whirl of a feeling inside of you. you sob around the fingers that he slips past your lips — cheeks stained, eyes puffy. still, you look up at him when he lifts your chin, “say it,” he softly demands, emeralds drilling. “. . say it.”

“ ‘m . .” you swallow around a cute yelp when ony splits the glossed cheeks of your ass far apart to watch his cock continue to push in that tautened ring. “ooh — ‘m sorry, daddy.”

ony huffs around a short laugh, swatting a leaden smack upon it, “now we fuckin’ talkin — so, now you wanna speak up.”

eren has pulled a twig from the dam. when the words finally leave you, they don’t stop. “i’m s-sorry, i’m sorry — f-fuck, ‘m sorry, please. papa, please.”

“we know, we fuckin know,” ony appreciates your apologies. he genuinely does. but your ass feels too fucking good around his dick and still, four sorries? he thinks him and his boy deserve a couple more. “we might jus’ forgive you, mama.”

he feels you cumming. you shudder underneath him, little hands grappling for eren and him at the same while. he’ll let you have that. it’s the second of many.

“u-unh, hng . . hnggg,” eren watches you cry. you lay your head atop his thigh, suckling and drooling across his fingers as tepid gems of tears drip down to your temple. his cock stiffens against his sweats. you appear so pretty to him — a living princess out of a fairytale — only his. only ony’s.

“say i’m sorry for bein’ a brat,” he whispers, letting his thumb slip through the warm cascade along your cheek.

“i’m s-sorry . . . sorry f’being a brat.”

eren smiles, “a big brat.”

“a b-big brat.”

ony leans his head down to kiss beneath your ear, “sorry for cussin’.”

the vibrator moves underneath you — manages to find that perfect angle upon your clit that has your feet kick out and you give a squeal, “ ‘m sorry f-for cursing, daddy.”

“for not usin’ y’good girl manners . . for actin’ like a fuckin’ nightmare.” ony lowers his head to watch the supple cheeks of your ass continue to bounce as you babble out each regret.

you make it hard to be strict with you because you’re so good. you don’t fight back and whine and pout. you do as they say — no complaints or rolled eyes. just how he likes you. ony licks his lips and lifts up on the knuckles of his fists, “bouta’ fuckin’ cum,” he grits out quietly through his teeth. your walls are gripping him, your pussy is thoroughly soaked, the view of you and eren — it’s no question as to why it hits him so quick. “you know better than to try that shit again, hm? you know fuckin’ better.”

you do. you wish you were able to tell him so, however, your brain becomes too occupied — splitting to focus on the sensation of his fat cock splitting your plump, little ass in half and eren’s tatted hand, slipping his from out of his sweats to begin to stroke right before your face.

their thrusts are in tandem. quick, smooth, and long. you feel ony’s lips against the curved shell of your ear, you feel eren’s free hand still gripping the bottom of your jaw to keep your face in place. your mouth drops around a drawn out sob when that vibrator begins to stroke itself back and forth along that pert and hardened swell of nerves. “t-tongue out, princess. stick that fuckin’ tongue out,” eren’s thumb rubs across those piercings as ony grabs a nice handful of your ass to roll between his fingers.

“ready t’catch this nut, baby?”

they don’t give you much of a warning. warm, milky ribbons of ony’s cum shoots inside of your ass first before eren’s following to sweetly varnish the surface of your cheeks, tongue, nose, and chin. the sounds they make push you over your own edge once more — soft moans, hard groans, hisses, and sighs. you buck up into ony for more, trying your best to siphon him dry as you suckle along eren’s tip, whimpering and pliant.

“u-unh, fuck, shit baby — wait, wait,” eren’s hips are quivering as he pulls himself from your lips. your responding pout makes him breathe out a trembly laugh. “too sensitive. hold on.”

you feel that vibrator slip from under you and the buzzing cease as ony shifts from atop of you.

“d-don’t go yet,” you mewl, gripping onto his hand. “stay in.”

you don’t want to give up the feeling of being full so suddenly. you hear ony chuckle as he slowly stands, making you follow him by grabbing your hips and pulling you back up onto your knees. “ima plug you up, mama,” he mumbles. “be still for me, alright?”

you consider the pull out worse than the push in. your face is turned away from them both as you give a low whine come the laggard tug of his dick being freed from your hole, inch by inch.

ony admires the way it winks up at him when it’s empty — stretched and tender. he doesn’t want a drop of his cum to fall. he pushes in a heart base, pink tinted, glass plug to replace him, watching you swallow it, needy. “there we fuckin’ go.” he kisses the base of your back, flipping you over to gather you inside of his arms as eren reaches in the nightstand for a few wipes and cooling lotion.

“you did good, princess.”

you feel a cold wipe being rubbed across your face then one along your thighs as you lay your head atop of his shoulder, eyes closed, “ ‘m a good girl,” you mumble quietly. you just had a bad day, is all.

“the fuckin’ best girl,” eren adds on with a kiss to your temple.

ony pecks your lips, “you number one.”

your loopy, little smile of satisfaction lets both men know that what they’d said has been what you’ve been dying to hear all this time.

  ❤︎ — all rights reserved ! © pwncez !

They really trying to make me repeat a grade.

Hoe please

i need a small drabble of connie snatching reader up in front of their friends because of something she said or did

i gotchu boo💋

it wasn’t often where you got to go out like this. sitting at the bar with your girls just talking and enjoying each others company. you were having so much fun that you didn’t realize that your boyfriend was outside waiting for you in the car. you told connie to come get you at 9 so that’s exactly what he did. when nine o’clock came he was outside and texting you as he waited for you to come out, but you never did.

you knew he was outside when he sent the text, but you were just so deep in conversation that you didn’t bother responding or moving. “we need t’do this more often man. i be so caught up in other shit i be forgetting that i’m allowed to have fun” mikasa and emoni laughed as you made a sad face while the bartender slid you another drink. “you right girl, we need to start doing this shit every week so we can stay close.” emoni said as she took a sip of her drink. before you could even put your cup to your lips, the sound of footsteps coming your way took your attention. it was your slightly irritated boyfriend, connie. “hey con, coming to have a drink?” mikasa said, making connie smile as he lightly shook his head no. he lowered his lips to your ear, keeping his voice down as he spoke. “uhh you seen me texting you right?” he said, his low voice making a tingle run down your spine.

you loved your man, that much was clear, but you really wanted to stay with your friends. you turned towards his face, giving him a small smile before you spoke. “i got em pa, but i wanna stay” connie rolled his eyes, making your friends eyes widen at your defiance. if you wanted to stay you could’ve just told him not to get you at this time, but you didn’t. you let this man drive all the way over here for nothing and since you wanted to be inconsiderate he wasn’t going to let you get what you and. “well that’s not finna happen, let’s go.” you sucked your teeth, emoni and mikasa tried their best to make it seem like they was minding their business, but they were unsuccessful. both of their eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of them. “ma get up” connie said, this time standing at his full height as he looked down at you in the chair.

you were getting a little irritated. what didn’t this man understand? you were having fun and didn’t want it to end so soon, and he was embarrassing you in front of your friends. you weren’t going to just let it happen, and since you were in front of people you doubted he would do anything crazy so you pushed to your luck. “boy get the fuc-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence before connie’s hand was wrapped around your throat, his face lowering closer to yours as he spoke in a low tone. “get up or ima embarrass you in this bar. stop frontin for your lil friends cause at the end of the day they not gon save you” as he let you go, you got up out your seat so you can leave, your panties already pooling with slick as you took a couple steps towards the door. “tell ‘em goodnight mami, be polite” connie mumbled as he took your hand at the door and waited for you to acknowledge your very shocked friends.

“goodnight yall” you mumbled, embarrassment rushing through you as you listened to the giggles and whispers coming from them in there chairs.

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How imma be when I catch one of them counselors lacking🙂

Wanna do this😞