Summary — In Which The Neighbor Becomes A Bystander In An Explicit Window Show By Infamous Artist Geto

𝟒:𝟓𝟎 𝐏𝐌 | 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

cw. f!reader, c. somno, pussyjob, creampie

belphie can already feel his cock throbbing under his pants when he finds you napping in his bed.

you’re all curled up on yourself, his t-shirt you’re wearing is lifted over your ass leaving a good glimpse of your panties.

he couldn’t help himself. he had been thinking all morning about your nice tight pussy and now that you are serving it to him directly on his bed he can’t help but take advantage of it.

his boxers fall at his feet quickly. he didn’t like the thought of waking you up, he wanted to let you rest but the need to slide inside you was too strong.

his cock throbs as he presses it against your covered cunt and rubs it back and forth. his eyes roll back as a soft moan escapes from your lips.

his lips cling to your neck. belphie sucks your soft skin from behind your ear to your shoulders, hoping this will help stifle his desperate moans.

belphie’s hand runs from your side to your breast. he gropes it firmly and squeezes his index and thumb over your nipple, “you’re so good,” he whispers in your ear.

Keep reading

Kirara ⭐️

Okay so you know how Eren is usually popular and a jock and Y/n is a loner/loser who is a nobody that no one likes……? Okay now imagine this, Eren is the loner/loser and Y/n is the popular girl that everyone simps over…….Its been on my mind all day so, add a cocky y/n who likes to tease Eren!!👀

now this is something i can get behind 😳 i was actually reading a little drabble over a nerdy eren messing with the cheerleader reader sooo, this is like a sign right? working on this, i added some things so i hope that you’ll like it!!

(i hope i didn’t go overboard with this)

enjoyyy ♡

“tease me, baby”

━━━ loner!eren j. x cocky!reader 18+

synopsis ➝ you’re the popular pretty girl that everyone loves and eren’s the quiet guy that wants to stay far, far away from girls like you. except, how can he do that in the confines of the detention hall, locked in a room with you? and how long can he fight you off without fucking your silly little brains out? you can’t wait to find out.

“please me, baby, turn around and just tease me, baby…” – cb & bm

tags/warnings ➝ modern!au, hs!au, sexual content, not a slowburn but it doesn’t jump right into the smut, shy!eren, virgin!eren, flirty reader, both are 18, detention sex, switch!eren, possessive!eren, slightly possessive!reader, praising, hair pulling, manhandling, oral (f. & m. receiving), premature cumming, meanie!reader, unprotected sex, dom(ish) reader, riding, breeding, creampie, eren hates you but loves the way your pretty pussy wraps around him <3

wc ➝ 17.1k

a/n ➝ i have to say, i really like this idea and this will be my first time ever writing eren this way so i’m probably a little too excited ahem...anyway, i had a lot of fun writing this so hopefully you’ll like it just as much as me! definitely recommend listening to ‘please me’ for this because…wow. it just fits, am i right? okok let me let you get to reading and pls rb/like bc apparently my mental health depends on numbers 🚶🏽‍♀️

Eren Jaeger.

Mysterious, quiet and smart with zero friends whatsoever. And yet…he was still one of the only guys in school that hadn’t approached you yet.

As you sat in the seat closest to the front of the classroom with a pen between your glossy plump lips, you pondered on what made him so different from everyone else. The room was half filled by now with only ten minutes left before class started. You were waiting for him to slink in behind a group and disappear towards the back of the room so that no one noticed him. You always did. People tended to forget he even existed because he walked a bit hunched over with his signature dark hoodie concealing all but his face. He always looked as if he only got three hours of sleep every night with dark bags underneath his dull emerald eyes. Despite such an ordinary look, he was still captivating.

There was something underneath the baggy clothes and unruly hair. Something dark yet inviting. And like a moth to a flame, you were interested and wanted to find out what that something was.

Finally, with five minutes to spare, you noticed him.

Four girls walked through the door, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Eren shuffled in right behind them, head down, with his book bag over his shoulder. When they dispersed to their usual seats, he blended in with a few other classmates until he finally made it to his regular seat at the back. You watched and that was when you’d noticed that someone was already sitting there, and not just anyone — but your ex boyfriend, Jean.

This was going to be interesting.

Instead of making it your problem and getting in the middle of what was to come, you stayed seated and chose to watch how Eren decided to handle it.

He stood over the boy, his facial expression lacking much else other than a faint scowl. “Hey. That’s my seat.”

“–and I didn’t know what to expect so when she squirted, I just laid there like this!” Jean mimicked what he’d done that night and his friends laughed, some with tears in their eyes. “I’m telling you. It was a shock but we fucked like three more times after that.”

“You took her home, right?” one of the friends asked, eyebrows raised.

Jean shook his head. “Nah. She had a ride. Glad I didn’t though. Probably would’ve fucked again before dropping her off.”

“Ah, come on,” Another one of them piped up, smirking. “She wasn’t that hot, dude.”

Jean scoffed. “Man, you didn’t see her. Her ass was fat. And her tits, bro,” He shook his head, stunned. “Comically large. I’d definitely mess with her again.”

Eren licked his dry lips before releasing an audible breath that made the senior turn around to look at him with a clear frown on his face.

“Yo, can I help you?” Jean asked him, arms crossed against his chest.

“You’re in my seat,” Eren simply repeated in the same monotone as before.

Jean dry laughed, looking him up and down. He shared a look with his boys, “Yeah? Well, that’s funny because,” he stood up and looked around the seat and desk, even the floor to double check. Once he was done with his search, his friends snickering behind him, he scratched his head. “I don’t really see your name anywhere on it.” He dropped his hand and stepped in front of Eren, eyes hard.

“So why don’t you go find somewhere else to sit, piss face?”

For the first few moments, Eren hadn’t said anything back to that. His eyes soaked up the arrogant look on Jean’s face until he snorted, making the other’s eyebrow twitch.

“Aren’t you y/n’s ex boyfriend?”

The question instantly set off a bomb inside of Jean’s head. He quickly took Eren by the scruff of his hoodie, bringing his face as close as possible, baring his teeth at him.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“What?” Eren tilted his head, a slow smirk spreading along his lips. “Too soon?”

The punch that came across his face was expected but it definitely hurt. Eren tumbled back, knocking into a desk near him. The girl that was sitting at the desk gasped and stood up, moving to the stand against the wall so she didn’t get involved.

“Say it again! I didn’t fucking hear you!”

Your pen dropped on the desk as you pushed your chair back, and hastily stood up. It probably wasn’t all that smart to get in between them now, but for some reason — you couldn’t just watch it all unfold. Not when you knew how violent Jean could be. At first, you were fine with letting Eren handle him by himself but after seeing him get hit — something in you snapped. You couldn’t watch it any longer.

When you made it to the back of the room, Eren was leaning on the desk he’d knocked into with one hand, using the other to wipe away the blood trail from his mouth. The two were in a staring match when you snapped your fingers in Jean’s face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You shouted at him, face twisted up.

He scoffed, looking between you and Eren. “Me? What’s wrong with me? How about you ask that freak instead. Why the fuck would he bring you up?”

You shook your head, “Jean, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about but you need to get your shit together. You’ve beaten up half the school already, and wonder why we’re not together anymore.” Disgusted, you walked over to Eren and sighed. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you…are you okay?”

The last person Eren wanted to come and check up on him was you. Or any girl that was like you for that matter. His eyes couldn’t help but wander over the short skirt you were wearing. The thigh highs you wore weren’t enough to stop his mind from racing. How they seemed to be wrapped around your legs so tight, the fat of your thighs were spilling over them. Not to mention the buttons of your shirt looked like they were holding themselves together with nothing but luck and a prayer. 

The many nights he spent jerking off with you on his mind made him look away from you, a frown settling on his face.

“I don’t need your help,” he mumbled, making you frown up as well. “Go away.”

“Eren–”

“Oh this is funny,” Jean interrupted from behind you, clearly amused. He began clapping and soon had the entire class’s attention now. As if he hadn’t with the way he punched Eren seconds ago.

Great.

You turned around to face him, highly annoyed.

“So the outcast wants nothing to do with the slut of the school,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Oh how the tables have turned.” His twinkling brown eyes fell on Eren, smiling. “And why don’t you wanna fuck Miss Popular? Don’t tell me the rumors are true.”

His friends bursted out laughing then shushed each other. With a knowing smile, Jean glanced at his group then back at Eren who looked bored of the entire conversation.

“Oh…You’re not gay are you?” No response. “It would make the most sense.” He walked forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you against his chest.

“Jean, let me g–“

“So you’re telling me,” Jean clamped a hand around one of your tits, squeezing it. You squeaked, and slapped at his hand, trying to get him to let go. He smirked. “That you aren’t turned on by this? That you wouldn’t fuck her even if she begged you to?”

Jean was one of the biggest bullies Eren’s ever had to deal with. When he transferred to the new school, it was done because of his parents divorce. His mother ended up with full custody of him which meant that he was pulled from the town he’d grown up in only to be thrown into a new city full of new people. That was freshman year. He was now a senior.

Back at his other school, there were plenty of bullies that he managed to ignore but sometimes sticking to the shadows did him more harm than good. They managed to conjure up the ludicrous idea that he walked around the school grounds like he was better than them all when he just wanted to get from point A to point B with no problems. The mere sight of him riled them up and he had to fight for his life almost everyday because of it.

With Jean, it always felt like a losing game. He was a jock and was captain of the basketball team. Everyone around the school knew that he’d dated most of the girls on the cheerleading squad but it was a big deal when he worked his charming magic on you. No one could believe it.

You were the only girl on the school’s official dance team that hadn’t ever bothered to spare him a second glance. At one point, you’d also been the new kid. Except, unlike Eren, you were treated as the shiny new toy. Every girl wanted to either befriend you with a devious motive or hate you from afar because of your beauty and talents. You were smart and good at dancing. Cheerleading was said to typically be left to the type of girls that yearned for the male attention but dancing was more for those that wanted to chase their passion. You’d been dancing since you were merely four years old and by the time you got to middle school, everyone knew how good you were at it.

Naturally, when you arrived to Paradis High, almost every girl had you on their hit list. There were some that were immediately friendly but Jean was their school’s pride and joy. The ‘It’ boy, so to speak. The instant he’d set his eyes on you, determined to turn your head, they were out for yours. You were hated simply because he wanted your attention and there was nothing more you could’ve done but politely decline each and every single one of his offers. Even though the girls saw that you held no interest for him, they hated you more for thinking you were too good to give him a chance when that was all they’d wanted from him. A simple glance from him in their direction would’ve made their entire year and you were boldly telling him no.

Eventually, with enough pleading, you caved. One date led to another and soon, the entire school quickly found out about your first kiss with him and they were suddenly all on your side. Girls that sabotaged your dance shoes, tripped you in the cafeteria or embarrassed you in classes by spreading false rumors — all came to a stop the moment you became the basketball captain’s official girlfriend.

Months to a year went by until you began to notice him talking to other girls. It’d seem he’d grown bored of you, and was looking for someone new to date. One night while on the phone with your best friend, Mikasa, you cried about it. She tried to offer up some decent advice but none of it made you feel any better. You knew what you had to do.

So you did it. You broke up with Jean, and things hadn’t been the same.

You’d gone from having the entire female population of the school on your side to having only two close friends that didn’t end up hating your guts by the end of it all. Mikasa and Sasha were there for you, through thick and thin.

You owed them too much for it.

With the break up came Jean becoming bitter about the situation. He’d blamed his failing grades and sour mood on losing you. Even the performance at his games became a problem. His coach wedged a stick up his ass to get him to improve but Jean just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even hearing your name made him lose his mind. Hence why he looked like he was ready to strangle Eren moments ago after hearing your name fall out of his mouth.

“Jean, get the fuck off of me!” You exclaimed, trying to sink your nails into his hand to let you go. He continued to ignore you, eyes set on Eren who finally was giving him some sort of reaction with the way his fists were now balled up.

“Come on,” Jean pressed, keeping a hand on your breast. He laughed, “If you’re gay, just say that. No judgment here! Just don’t see how you’d not get turned on by all of this.” He looked down at your chest then at your neck, smirking. “I almost don’t believe it.”

When he gave you a little slack by trying to take your jaw in his hand, you shoved your back into his chest and he coughed, releasing you completely. You stumbled towards Eren, livid, as you tried to fix some of the buttons that had come undone.

“You’re an asshole, Jean! I hate you!”

Jean rubbed at the center of his chest, staring at you with a bit of playfulness that only made you more upset because how was he able to look at a situation like this as if it was genuinely funny to him?

“You hate me? Well that’s not what you were saying when you were spread out on my bed last week taking my co—”

The jab that connected with his jaw made him fall right to the ground with a groan, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Your eyes widened, taking notice that it was Eren that had thrown the punch. Your mouth dropped open to say something when Eren gave the other another hit across the face, jaw clenched in pure anger.

“What the fuck man!” There was a cut at Jean’s eyebrow that was quickly covered in blood as he tried to defend himself from Eren’s attacks. He was bigger than him and felt he worked out more but he still found himself unable to throw Eren off or dodge enough of his punches without gaining a split lip from them. “Get off of me, freak!”

“Eren!” You didn’t know what else to do other than try and pry him off of Jean so you did what you could until you heard a loud whistle ricochet off of the classroom walls. You covered your ears along with everyone else that was standing idly by, watching the fight.

“Just what in the world is going on back here?” Mrs. Ackerman asked, looking above the rim of her glasses as she finally pushed through the crowd that surrounded the three of you. She had a hand on her hip with her walkie-talkie in the other, a firm yet enraged look on her face.

Due to the distraction, Jean used the chance to push Eren off and stand up, hopping from side to side to gain his footing. You helped Eren up but he only brushed you off with a frown, moving away from you altogether. It would’ve made you a little sad if you weren’t interrupted by the teacher.

“All three of you. Principal's office. Now.”

Just as you thought.

After school detention for three consecutive days.

If that wasn’t worse, you and Eren witnessed Jean staying back in the office when you two were dismissed because apparently his punishment needed some adjustment so it wasn’t going to take away from his mandatory basketball practices after school. His days were said to differ from through the week to the weekends but how likely was that when his dad owned the school? Most of that was said to trick you in case you were listening but you already knew nothing was going to happen to Jean even though he’d basically started the entire thing. Eren had hit him last but only to defend your honor.

Honor…

Interestingly enough, it only just occurred to you why Eren might’ve hit him earlier. Was it really to defend you? In truth, Jean was right. You did sleep with him last week but only because he wouldn’t stop hounding you about missing you. When they failed to work, he insisted you help him with his homework and he’d finally leave you alone for the rest of the year. Claiming that he wanted his grade up to look good for college. As a fellow senior, you couldn’t say no because it was a stressful time for all the seniors. So yes, you went. However, with his hand constantly making its way to your thighs, looking at you with nothing but desire — he’d won. You didn’t miss him by any means. Your body only missed his touch and soon, he was several inches deep into your abused cunt, hammering against your cervix until you came in a matter of minutes. Shame quickly set in after that.

Even though it was true, it wasn’t meant to be told to everyone else. Both of you agreed that nothing was to be said to anyone and that it was to be the last time you saw each other. Graduation was around the corner so you didn’t say no but maybe you should have because what if it only made things worse with his obsession with you?

It was probably best that you kept your selected college to yourself in case he decided to try and apply too.

The last thing you needed was for Jean to follow you even to college. A place where you dreamed of it being Jean-free.

Detention began today, after school, and you weren't looking forward to it. That was why you trudged behind Eren in the hallway, dreading the long hours of doing absolutely nothing in a room with only just him and Ackerman.

Then, it hit you.

A room of only you, Eren and Mrs. Ackerman. The woman was going through a tough time in her marriage to Mr. Ackerman, the history teacher. A lot of students called him by his first name since that was a good way to piss him off, which was Levi. It did the trick every single time.

Anyway, that concluded with her leaving the room to spend thirty minutes to an hour on the phone going back and forth with him. In turn, leaving you with Eren all alone, in the classroom.

A slow smirk spread across your lips.

Maybe you weren't going to be so bored after all.

After a few more classes, it was time to head to the detention hall.

Eren texted his mom after leaving the principal's office earlier to let her know why he wasn't going to be able to make it home at the usual time. If she was upset, that didn't translate through her texts back to him and so he was left wondering how she was going to really react when he got back home.

Your parents weren't surprised nor upset but they told you that nothing like this needed to happen again. Like you were going to associate yourself with Jean anymore.

When you walked in, the room was empty.

Mrs. Ackerman's purse was on top of her desk at the front of the room but she was nowhere to be seen.

Breathing out a small sigh of relief, you walked further in and surveyed the array of seats in the room. In the end, you chose to sit towards the back, by the long window that spread across the wall, providing plenty of natural light for the spacious room.

Once you set your things on the floor by your chosen desk, you looked around and heard the door creak open. Eren strolled in with his backpack over his shoulder, wearing a sullen look on his face. His eyes danced about the room until he spotted a good seat that was miles away from you but still at the back.

You visibly pouted as you watched him set his stuff down, and sit at the desk. He pulled out his cell and with his cheek pressed against the palm of his hand, staring down at the screen as he let his thumb scroll through his social media — you were completely ignored.

Eren was a strange one. He'd fought Jean even though he had no personal vendetta against him because...Because of what? Again, you couldn't help but wonder if he was defending you earlier. Did that mean he didn't hate you as much as he said he did? What if underneath all of that hard exterior there was someone that actually gave a damn about you?

It was hard to deny the fact that you wanted something real. A relationship was more than the physical side to it. There needed to be romance, a real connection and something meaningful there. All of your previous boyfriends only stayed with you because it was hard to get your attention. Once they had it, they got bored and moved on.

It was time to stop choosing the same set of guys. Maybe going after someone a little less...cocky and more of the opposite was your best bet.

Someone like Eren.

“Psst.”

He remained focused on his phone, acting as if he hadn’t heard you.

“Eren,” you called out and he still didn’t give you the indication that he’d heard you. He definitely did.

“Eren—”

“—spaghetti? Is that what you’re wanting for dinner tonight, hun?” Mrs. Ackerman spoke into the phone as she walked back into the classroom wearing a gentle smile on her face. You stopped trying to get Eren’s attention and turned yours to her conversation instead. It wasn’t everyday she talked with her husband without shouting at him. “Oh! You’re making the spaghetti tonight. I see. No, no! I would love that actually. Yes.”

She stood in front of her purse for a moment before she giggled. She kept chattering on and on, and didn’t acknowledge either of you. That only made you look back at Eren to find him pulling out a dark notebook and a mechanical pencil. There wasn’t much of an expression on his face but you were curious all the same.

With no direct plan on what you were going to even say, you stood up, took another glance at your teacher to make sure it was a safe run before you quickly (and quietly) shuffled over to his side of the room.

He’d had his hood up so you were only able to see part of his face when you sat down, but wondered why he wasn’t telling you to move away by now. Hadn’t he heard you walk up?

“Hey,” you leaned forward, head tilted, trying to see more of his face. Upon finally noticing you, he jumped and tugged one side of his hoodie behind his ear. That was when you’d noticed the airpod that resided there. No wonder he hadn’t responded to your failed attempts at getting his attention earlier.

“What the hell do you want?” He asked a bit more harshly than he’d meant to come off. You just scared him was all. Plus, he’d chosen the furthest seat from you for a good reason and yet, there you sat — almost close enough for him to smell your intoxicating perfume. God, it smelled like you took an hour long bath in that overpowering fragrance.

You pushed your lips out into an irritating pout that he felt the need to kiss right off of your face, leaning back away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. That only made your boobs push up even more. The buttons to your shirt looked like they were barely holding on. He had to fight the urge to look away because that was only going to imply that you had the ability to exert a reaction from him and he couldn’t have that. At least, not with your knowing anyway.

“You’re so mean,” you mumbled. He could’ve rolled his eyes. “What is it about me that you don’t like anyway?”

He snorted, twirling the pencil in between his fingers with a tiny curl at the corner of his lips in amusement.

“What don’t I like about you? That’s a loaded question but easy to answer. Probably should dumb it down to a simple response just so you won’t end up whining about not getting it.”

The pretty frown that settled at your brows made him bite at his lips before gracing you with an answer.

“Everything.”

You blinked.

“I…Everything?”

Eren pressed his back against the chair he was in, keeping his dark green eyes firmly on you. “Yeah. Everything. You’re so fucking annoying with all the skimpy clothes you wear. The perfume, your voice, your personality. I don’t care for any of it. Just seems…fake. Like your boobs.”

You gasped, quickly standing up out of your chair, causing the legs to scrap across the floor. The sound was scratchy and it caught Mrs. Ackerman’s attention. The both of you looked at her as she raised her index finger to her lips. She shushed you before she instantly immersed into her conversation again.

Your head turned back to him and he was full on smirking now. It agitated you.

“Fake? My boobs aren’t fake!” You hissed at him and he laughed. “They aren’t!”

“Okayyy,” he drew out, eyebrows raised. “Whatever you say, Barbie.”

“You’re an ass,” you muttered, sitting back down but refusing to look at him now. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Truly don’t give a fuck,” he retorted, going back to sketching whatever previous work he had in his sketchbook open. “Girls like you are all the same anyway. Would much rather jerk off to the girls in final fantasy than the ones in real life.”

None of that was even true. Not even a little bit, and he knew it.

Eren spent most of his nights with his cock in his hand and you on his mind. Usually you were bent over a desk, moaning sinfully loud, not even worried about being caught. The thought of you liking  the idea of being caught only fed his imagination though because somehow, he felt you were slutty like that. Maybe you even liked being watched.

You weren’t his type at all, really. He used to be attracted to shy girls. Girls that covered themselves from head to toe with nerdy glasses like the ones he used to wear. Girls that were virgins and needed to be guided. That didn’t know the first thing about sex. He had this wild fantasy of being the one to teach them. Lure them to his bedroom where he took charge and showed them what sex was really about.

Then, he saw you.

None of the girls at Paradis High were like you. Sure, they wore questionable clothing that made him wonder how they passed the school’s dress code everyday but you were different. It had something to do with your body. The curves, how your clothes seemed to fit you. They looked so much more tighter on you than the rest of the girls in school, and that was what drew his attention. His and every male on the school grounds of course.

However, he refused to be one of those guys. And yet — he irritatingly enough couldn’t find himself able to cum without thinking about fucking you. Another low point to his miserable existence was finding the thought of letting you teach him, as the pathetic virgin he was, how to fuck a pretty girl like you. Envision you giving him back to back orgasm denials until he begged you to let him finish. Preferably all over your chest, but he’d take whatever you gave him because it was you.

He hated himself for it. Had once vowed himself to never stoop to a level as low as you. He only found you attractive and that felt like the end of him. He tried to replace you with 3D animated women but none of them made him feel the way you made him feel. He only had to think about you for a few minutes before his hand was covered in his warm release.

It was embarrassing. A real fucking headache.

Who were you to make him feel this way? How dare you come to school dressed so provocatively and whine about the staring and non consensual touching when you looked the way you did? Weren’t you taught to not entice creepy assholes like him?

Still, he always hoped to continue seeing you dressed in such a way each day he came to school. It was a relief every time and he was given yet another day of secretly ogling you from afar.

It was low of him. Sure. However, if he was going to be forced to watch you strut around in those indecent clothes you liked wearing so much — who was he to not indulge his eyes on such a sight?

“Girls like me?” You quipped, eyes down at your lap and away from him.

Eren glanced at you purely because of your flat tone which sounded a little off from how chipper you usually sounded. It didn’t make him feel guilty, but it still made him feel strange. Maybe that was guilt. He refused to acknowledge it though. You deserved it. No one told you to walk around looking the way you did. Then, you were too friendly with people. Whenever there was a new student, he always found you talking to them first. Trying to be their friend, and welcoming them to the school. Making them feel comfortable. It was so unnecessary to him.

Eren couldn’t even imagine how you were outside of school. Did you walk up to strangers with that same attitude? Wearing that same short skirt and tight shirt? Innocent smile with those plump glossy lips of yours? He wondered what would go through a stranger's mind looking at you dressed like that. Your silver belled voice floating through the air, maybe asking for directions or something, but not noticing their filthy gaze devouring the sight of you. Maybe you did notice, and maybe you liked it. Hell if he knew.

The grip he had on his pencil tightened at the thought of some sleazy guy violating you through his eyes as you innocently tried to talk to him. A man that would probably think about taking you in some dark alley, flipping up your skirt and having his way with you. Defiling you with his grimey and impatient hands, touching you in places only Eren wanted access to.

You noticed the far away look in his eyes when you raised your head back up, and frowned a bit.

“Hey,” you poked his cheek and he blinked a few times. “Are you…okay?”

There was no expression on his face now. There you were, asking him if he was okay when he was physically trying to hold himself back from fucking you blind on that very desk with poor Mrs. Ackerman watching. Like you wouldn’t have enjoyed it though.

Look at you. His eyes roamed over the concerned look on your face, your bottom lip pushed between your teeth. Bright eyes glazed over in worry, a particular softness directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that were pressed together causing them to look thicker than usual. The action only made the thigh highs you had on tighter against your fleshy skin, forcing his mind to run wild. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was your angle. Looking all innocent but being such a slut underneath it all. God, did he want to find out. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you were. Fuck.

“Eren,” you sort of whined and his jaw clenched. Why were you so fucking annoying? He could feel his hard-on poking at the surface of his sweats, and tried to ignore it like he wanted to ignore you. How could he with a voice as sweet as yours in his ear? Maybe if he stayed quiet long enough, you’d get all sad and mope back to your seat, leaving him alone for the next two hours or however long you two were forced to spend in this hell hole. Maybe, just maybe.

When he went back to drawing, something didn’t sit right with you. How he looked at you moments ago, clearly checking you out. Was that intentional? You were rather close to him. Maybe it was in disgust. It was clear he didn’t like you, if the insults and backing away from you every time you got close weren’t proof enough. It annoyed you because no guy in school (or on the streets) was able to ignore you the way Eren does. You were aware of how attractive you were and tried to use that on him but it was as if he was immune to it. To your pretty charms. Was he just…not attracted to you?

The thought of Eren genuinely being disgusted by you and your appearance made you want to cry for some reason, and you weren’t exactly a crier by any means. You were tough and emotionally stronger than most girls in the school. You could handle a little bullying or talk behind your back but oddly enough, thinking about Eren not being into you made you sad. Only because you were now genuinely interested in him and didn’t expect to find him not interested in you back.

When you sniffled, his curious green eyes were back on you. He watched you gasp at him, catching your moment of weakness before you threw a veil over your face, giving him a fake smile. He hated that look on you. It didn’t suit such a pretty face as yours. What was it about?

“Sorry,” you mumbled before standing up. His head tilted back, still watching you with confusion in his expressive eyes. “I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the year and try not to stand out so much.” Your hands twiddled in front of you, an unusual thing to see you do. What you were even saying was odd to him. It sounded rushed. “Sorry again.”

When you moved to walk away, you felt a hand quickly wrap around your wrist, stopping you.

Nothing pissed him off more than seeing your spirits crushed. This time, it seemed to be because of him and he didn’t like it. Couldn’t stand the feeling it gave him. Why were you suddenly pushing away from him? Was it his cold demeanor towards you? Offish tone and unresponsive body language? How hard was it for you to understand that he did all of that because he liked you and hated himself for it? Girls like you only knew how to break a guy’s heart, and he’d told himself that he’d never allow someone like you back in. Why couldn’t you get that?

Maybe you were different from the last girl like he tried talking to. Maybe you had gentle intentions but the only way he was going to be able to find out was through trusting you, and he couldn’t see himself doing that again. His trust had been broken a while back. He couldn’t handle going through that again. Not for a good lay, no, because maybe he didn’t just like you. He could feel the possessiveness tight within his chest thinking about you being with anyone else but him. Maybe that was why he’d teased Jean about you in class earlier. Then he found out that you and him had sex recently even though you two were no longer together. Needless to say, it pissed him off even more so he pushed you away when you tried helping him then.

It was like he was able to see you and Jean together in his head, vividly. Your legs spread wide at either side of him, letting him invade your tight cunt, digging your nails into his broad back, moaning his name louder than usual. Letting him come inside of you, marking your soft walls with his flawed seed.

Eren couldn’t help but wonder if you’d let Jean fuck you without a condom. Were you two that close? It was no secret that Jean had been around the school, well known for fucking half of the girls there. Now, including you. In Eren’s eyes, it disgusted him thinking about it. The simple thought of you letting that asshole fuck you without any protection aggravated the fuck out of him. It was what made him let you go, turning his head back to the sketchbook in front of him.

You stared at him for a moment then rubbed at your wrist. What was that? Did he want you to stay?

“Eren—”

“Look,” he cut you off, sketching. “We can be here and not talk so let’s try that.”

There was no sense in trying to change his mind. If he didn’t want you near him or talking to him then fine. It was his loss.

You trudged back to your seat and plopped down, crossing your legs. You’d begun to feel a bit bitter now as you took out your phone, angrily scrolling through your social media. Who was he to get so upset with you in the first place? And why did it matter to you so much? He was a nobody. He wasn’t even going to be remembered at the reunion in the next ten years anyway so you refused to waste anymore of your precious energy on him. There was no way you were going to lower yourself to begging a guy to give you attention. That was not happening. Ever.

The next 20 minutes was spent with you texting your friends and Eren on the other side of the room doing god knows what because you didn’t care to look at him. You stuck to yourself and kept yourself busy until you heard Mrs. Ackerman exhale rather loudly. As nosy as you were, you looked up and was shocked to see her husband waltz into the room. 

“You’re still here?” Levi asked, walking up to her to press a kiss to her cheek. You watched her tuck a bit of hair behind her ear, obviously bashful by the public display of affection. It was strange to see but you continued watching. 

“Yes. I’m over detention this afternoon. Mr. Rall wasn’t able to stay over so I volunteered.” Her eyes drifted towards you and Eren, and you quickly looked back down at your phone like you weren’t in on their conversation. “Especially since I was the one that put them here.” Levi raised a brow and she smiled. “There were fighting earlier so I sent them to the principal and they’ve got detention for the next few days. Are you finally heading home?” She asked, switching topics, looking back at him. Your eyes flickered back up at them, almost finding them a little cute together.

He hummed, fingers itching to play at her waist. “I am.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice, but not enough to shut you out. “I wish you could come with me. I hate when you stay over like this. Takes away from my time with you.”

You watched her giggle and almost gagged. Okay now it was getting to be a little too much. Next thing you knew you were going to walk into her class one day to find her with a baby bump, forced to realize that teachers with partners or spouses actually had sex. 

“Mm, I’ll be home shortly,” she whispered, biting her lip and pushing up her glasses. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Ahh,” he pulled back, a feigned hurt look on his face. “What a cruel world we live in.”

She giggled and playfully slapped his chest as he chuckled. “Go on and get out of here, Mr. Workaholic. Be home soon.”

“Alright, alright,” he smiled softly, heading back towards the door. He mouthed a quick ‘love you’ and she felt her skin heat up.

“Byee,” she sang and he left the room leaving silence in his wake.

It dawned on you that even if things weren’t the way they were between you and Eren now, there was no way you two would’ve been able to do anything with Mrs. Ackerman still in the room. You were banking on her leaving for a good period of time but it wasn’t like any of that mattered now. He wanted nothing to do with you and that was still fine. You didn’t care. It was his decision and you weren’t the groveling type. You weren’t!

“Ah,” Mrs. Ackerman breathed, glancing down at the watch on her wrist. She looked up at the two of you, “Children, I’m going to head to the copy room to print some things off for this coming week’s assignments.” Both of you looked up at her at the same time, paying attention. “Think you guys can behave until I come back? I shouldn’t be gone for very long.”

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug and Eren nodded, silently.

“Okay!” She grabbed her keys and walked towards the door, “Back as soon as I can,” and left, the door shutting quietly behind her.

As if the classroom wasn’t already pin-droppingly quiet from before, it was deathly silent now. You were almost able to hear the birds chirp outside of the window. It made you uneasy but you tried to continue occupying yourself with your phone.

Eren had his music playing so the silence wasn’t what started to bother him. It was the simple fact that no matter what he tried thinking about, his thoughts always ventured back to you. 

You were back on the other side of the room and it was because he pushed you away. It looked like it finally worked but at what cost? Truthfully, he didn’t want to drive you away but what else was he supposed to do? 

He should’ve been content with sitting there and doing his own thing but his pencil wasn’t moving. The inspiration to draw was now lost and that irritated him even more.

What was so special about you anyway? Why did you consume each and every single one of his thoughts 24 hours a day? Several nights did he go sleepless thinking about you, what you were doing and who you were doing it with. Why you weren’t doing it with him, even. 

It was annoying. So fucking annoying, he felt like pulling out all of his hair due to the frustration of it all. 

Not only were you distracting during classes with him but now you two were stuck in one together, completely alone. You were on the far side of the room and still managed to disrupt his concentration. How were you doing that?

With a groan to himself, he’d set the mechanical pencil down and moved back from the desk to give himself some room. When he glanced at you, you were still mindlessly going through your phone, completely ignoring his existence. Wasn’t that what he wanted? So why was he finding himself annoyed by it?

All of these questions with answers to every single one of them.

“Annoying,” he muttered and you looked at him. 

“Talking to yourself now?”

Your teasing tone almost made him want to snap. 

“Shut up.”

For some reason, you felt like pushing your luck. You knew that he wasn’t going to do anything if you teased him some more. Plus, you were growing a little bored of scrolling through your twitter feed. It also seemed that he was taking a small break so why not mess with him? Especially considering talking to you was utter torture for him which was perfect for you because bothering him seemed more fun than reading pointless tweets that never related to you. 

So, you put your phone face down on the desk, leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms with a smirk on your face.

“Make me.”

The hand on his thigh curled into a fist, physically trying to hold himself back from getting up and crossing the room to show you exactly how he’d make you shut the hell up. Rather, he stayed seated because fortunately for you, his sanity was still intact. So were his morals. He couldn’t give into your weak attempts at trying to get at him. He didn’t like girls like you. Bratty, loud, overly friendly, falsely innocent and more importantly — a slut. His standards were higher than that. The bar wasn’t in hell yet.

In return to your cheeky response, he simply rolled his eyes and stood up to stretch his limbs. You were slightly annoyed that your little ruse at getting a reaction out of him didn’t work because usually it was easier than this but Eren was different. It took a lot more than words to fully annoy him, it seemed. 

You weren’t given time to think much more about your failed plan when you caught sight of his abdomen as his hoodie raised up along with his arms. You got a clear view of his abs, smoothed and toned. Your mouth dropped open. Had he really been hiding a body like that underneath all of the bulky clothing he wore on a day to day basis? No wonder you nor anyone else ever noticed it. Did he work out? Then again, no one was born looking like Apollo so he probably did. 

Eren let out a groan that easily sounded like a moan which hadn’t helped you at trying to tear your eyes away from him. He dropped his arms and yawned, cracking his fingers while he was at it. Once he was done stretching, feeling eyes on him, he turned to you. You almost broke your neck turning it away from him as if you didn’t spend almost five minutes gawking at the guy. He smirked. You were so obvious, it was painful. 

“You know,” he began walking towards you, cutting through the tension in the air as he went. “If you wanted a closer look, all you had to do was ask.”

You heard him walking over but didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence. Instead, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone back up. How much longer did you have to spend being in the same room as him now? 

“Ohh,” he cooed, finally close enough to smell your nauseating perfume again. “Ignoring me now? That’s funny.” His pretty emerald eyes ate up the sight of you trying to pretend that he wasn’t standing right next to you. “Weren’t you whoring yourself out, like, 10 minutes ago?”

That got your attention. Your head snapped up at him, already feeling a growing strain due to how tall he was since you were sitting down. 

“Excuse me?” You breathed, blinking. “Whoring myself out? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’ve got a nasty mouth. Anyone ever told you that?” Gentle fingers went to touch your chin when you slapped his hand away. His expression didn’t change from the irritating smirk that stayed. “Now I can’t touch you?” He snorted. “Okay.”

Irritated now, you stood up, falling into a staring match with him. He just looked at you, highly amused. Why was he being so annoying now?

“Eren, what do you want? Earlier, you didn’t want to talk and now you’re chattier than me. What is it?” You cocked a hip out and crossed your arms again.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. 

“Dunno. Needed a break, I guess.”

“And do you have to bother me while taking your little break?”

He laughed, “No, but it passes the time. Plus,” he stepped forward, dark eyes narrowed at you playfully. “–you were all over me earlier. What happened to that energy? Not feeling slutty anymore? Hmm?”

Instead of stepping back, you held your ground because you weren’t phased by him. He was tall, but that was about as menacing as he got. You’d never seen this side of him though. He was usually very quiet and observing. Not one to talk without thinking about it first. 

Either way, you didn’t have the energy to entertain him anymore.

“Go back to your sketching,” you said in a dismissive tone and with a roll of your eyes, you were sitting down again. “We’ve got over an hour left in here and then we don’t have to ever speak to each other again. Sound good?” You were about to glance up at him when you felt his hand move into your hair, tugging your head back to look up at him. “Eren–!”

“You know what I want though? I want…I…” He drifted off, a frown settling onto his face. What did he want? To fuck you? Right here, in the classroom? He was better than that, and then it was you. He couldn’t fuck you. Didn’t he hate you? 

“Eren,” you mumbled, chest rising and falling as your thighs pushed together. As much as you wanted to get upset with him for touching you like this, you were too busy keeping back a moan from how aggressive he was being. The thought of why he had a hand in your hair went right over your head. It didn’t matter when you could feel your thin underwear soiling by the second. It was a bit embarrassing because maybe he hadn’t done it for any sexual reasons. Maybe you were just that much of a whore. 

Trying to focus on the present, you cleared your throat and tried it again, “Eren–”

“What?” He growled out, hand tightening in your hair. Thankfully you didn’t need to speak because your eyes told him what he needed to know. He quickly released you and took a step back, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. “Uh…” he’d accidentally backed into a nearby desk, feeling his face warm. “Sorry…”

You sat there for a moment, slowly putting all of the pieces together. Luckily, the last piece you needed to finish the puzzle was the boner he currently had. Evident and hard for your eyes to pull away from. It looked like he was thinking the exact same thing you were. It also looked like you were going to have to be the one to initiate things, going based off of what you assumed was shared just between you and him. You just hoped he was going to want to reciprocate or else you weren’t going to ever live the rejection down. 

As you stood up, he watched you closely, hands gripped onto the edges of the desk he was leaned up against. He chose to not move, letting you walk towards him until you were right in front of him now. Since he was crouched down a bit, you were around the same height as him which made him inevitably harder than he already was. Something about the way you were looking at him. Eyes low and dark, the faint smirk on your pretty lips. Like you wanted to eat him  alive. God, he’d let you. Let you do whatever it was you wanted to. However, he wasn’t weak enough to give in to you that easily. Would have to try a lot harder than that.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you look at me?” You asked him, not touching him just yet. You kept your hands to yourself but stood a breath away, peering into his deep eyes with control. “I’ve been watching you too, Eren. Did you know that?”

“No…” he breathed with a shake of his head, unable to look away. His fingertips itched to touch you but he kept his hands where they were. The wood of the desk creaked under his tight grip as he continued to wait for your command. “I didn’t know that.” He smirked. “But you sound like a fuckin’ creep. Maybe even a stalker.”

You quickly grabbed him by his chin, squishing his cheeks together. The smirk fell into a puckered look, making you smile. “You’ve got a nasty mouth on you. Anyone ever told you that?” You repeated the same question he’d asked you earlier, pushing your knee in between his legs, parting them with ease. He let out a breathless laugh, licking his lips.

“Dunno. Can’t really recall. Sorry.”

“Mmm, can I be honest about something?” You took one final step forward, dropping your hand and throwing an arm around his neck, pressing your breasts against his chest. His breath hitched and you kept your smirk as you brushed your lips against the shell of his ear. “You say that you hate me…but I can’t help but wonder how many times you’ve jerked off to the thought of me. Must suck not having the real thing. Guess those animated women have been enough for you, huh?”

You were good at being a tease but what you failed to realize was that Eren was different from the other guys you’d seduced. He was smarter and found zero shame vocalizing what was really on his mind.

“Stupid girl,” he said in a deep tone under his breath before he gripped your waist with his thick hands, keeping you firm against him. It was his lips that were now against your ear and feeling you shiver made him grin. “I can’t even cum without thinking about you. Were you aware of that too?” Your silence was what pleased him the most. He chuckled, “Stroking my cock, using my pathetic hand trying to imagine it as your pussy but I’m nearly positive it doesn’t compare to the real thing.”

Your cunt twitched at the imagery of him doing exactly that. You’d give up almost anything to feel him right now. Almost.

Frustrated, you pushed off of him and he still had that shit-eating grin on his face. He was now leaning fully back against the desk, head tilted as he stared at you. It annoyed you. A lot.

“If you wanna fuck me, just say that.”

Eren didn’t say a word, and it wasn’t like he needed to. His lust filled gaze was more than enough. 

“I wanna fuck you. Bad.”

You shrugged before sitting on top of one of the desks. Your thighs squished together and it was like you’d done it on purpose just to tease him. He was almost able to see your panties which was way more than he needed to see. Not that he was complaining because he definitely wasn’t. In fact…why not see more than that? 

“Sounds like a you problem.”

There was one thing that Eren couldn’t seem to understand about you. He was aware that you had a certain type. So that begged the question… Why were you flirting with him? He wasn’t a jock. Wasn’t popular. Hell, to the entire school’s population, he didn’t even exist. So why him? What were you trying to prove? He wasn’t going to let himself become a body count. That was for sure. He just wasn’t. He had a lot more self respect than that. Plus, jerking off to you alone in his room was more than he needed. To do anything with you in real life was…was too…

He couldn’t even come up with a good reason if he tried. He just knew it didn’t need to happen.

And maybe that was reason enough. 

“K,” was all he said before he pushed off of the desk and started to walk away. He needed to put some distance between you and him or he was definitely going to go back on his decision of fucking on the very desk you were sitting on. He was sticking to his morals and as hard as it was, it was best. You were still one of the most popular girls in school, even when most of them hated you for dumping Jean. There was no way in hell he was going to ditch his cloak of invisibility just for some pussy. He knew better than that. Way better. 

You wanted to sulk seeing that he’d made the choice to not approach you but a thought came into your mind. If he wasn’t going to make the right choice then that just meant that you were going to have to make it for him. 

While he walked back towards his seat, you decided to scoot back on the desk until you were in the middle of it and flipped up your skirt. There was never a time you didn’t get what you wanted and if this was the only time you were going to be alone with Eren, then you were going to make it a moment that he wasn’t going to forget. 

The sudden noise made him look back and what he saw almost made him trip up on his own feet. 

Your legs were spread wide, and you were pulling your panties aside with two of your fingers, looking dead at him through thick lashes. Your arousal stuck to the fabric and created a line that stayed connected until you began massaging your clit. It was a bold move to make but you were never wrong when you felt a vibe around someone. Eren was interested in you. It was so obvious, but there was still a chance that you were wrong. That you were making a complete and utter fool of yourself right now. Especially in a public setting. That never usually bothered you but those were during times where the guy actually wanted you back. This was completely different. Eren had expressed his dislike for you openly enough so you hoped that your intuition about this was right. 

A small moan slipped past your lips as you dipped a finger into your slick, warm cunt, clenching around the digit almost immediately. The cool hit of the air conditioner that came on made your thighs tremble as you licked your lips, keeping eye contact with him, fingering yourself slowly. Painfully slow. 

Eren didn’t know what to do other than watch you. How you were perched on the desk where anyone could walk in and catch you doing something so…So exposing. And yet, he couldn’t fight off his second hard on of the day. Annoying. All of it was so fucking annoying. You, most of all. Why were you doing this to him? Antagonizing him with the one thing he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind. Seeing the real thing was nothing like the pornos he’d seen. You weren’t anything like he’d tried imagining either. In fact, you were a million times better than the version in his head. He just couldn't figure out whether that was a good thing or not. 

“Eren,” you moaned pitifully, frowning as you curled your fingers, hitting the spot that you were looking for. By the time he’d come out of the deep crevices of his mind, he saw that your shirt was already open, breasts spilled out from the confines of your bra. Your nipples were pebbled from the cool air and you had one in your hand as you fucked yourself. His cock throbbed at the sight. Well, there went the last bit of his precious morals. 

Then again, morals be damned right?

You weren’t able to get his name out of your mouth fast enough before he strided back over to you, standing in front of you. He was panting, eyes drinking up the slutty sight of you. He’d watched enough pornos to at least touch you where he felt you wanted to be touched but it was all still new to him because watching and doing something was two entirely different things. 

He frowned, frustrated that he was too nervous to reach out for you until you’d shuffled up onto your knees. You were back at being at the same height as him with your naked tits at his chest again.

He was going to lose his fucking mind over you.

His eyes shamelessly darted down to your breasts, hands itching to touch you but he wanted to remain respectful. You found it cute.

“It’s okay,” you whispered and took his hand in yours, bringing it up to one of your breasts. His breath hitched when you placed his palm over it, completely covering your nipple from the coolness of the room. He swallowed and looked at you to find a sweet smile on your face. “You can touch me, Eren. Just…do it slowly, okay?”

The softness in your voice stirred his arousal even more because not only 10 minutes ago were you giving him the cold shoulder. How did your mood change so quickly? Then earlier you were pushing your tits in his face. You were so confusing.

He focused more on you and less on his thoughts as he pinched at your nipple, quickly looking up to catch the moan leaving your plump lips. So that's what you liked. He wondered if your nipples were as sensitive as he’d imagined once or twice before.

Wanting to test that theory, he dipped his head down, held your breast in his large hand and covered your perked nipple with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Satisfyingly enough, your back immediately arched, your hands planting themselves on his shoulders. He grinned around you, happy to be right. You pushed your chest more into him and he groaned, cock stiffening more than it already was. Fuck, at this rate, he was probably going to cum through his sweats, untouched, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to stroke your ego anymore than he was sure he was going to, moving forward with you. 

“Eren,” you mewled, moving your hands into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it. A shiver snaked down his spine at the action and couldn’t hold back another groan that made you look down at him with a racing heart to watch him. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” he said around your nipple, cheekily grinning as he looked up at you through his eyelashes, green eyes dark with hunger. “Say that again.”

Feeling shy all of the sudden, you made a noise before you looked away.. “I…It feels good. Why did you need to hear it again?”

“Mmm,” After a few more swirls, tugs and a playful bite at your nipple, he pulled back with a ‘pop’, causing you to gasp, staring at him. He leaned close to your face, smirking. “Why not?”

“Because…” your eyes fell on his lips. They were a little red and covered with his own saliva. Puffy, desperate to be on another part of your body. You had a second place in mind. “Ugh, just shut up and kiss me.” You pulled him in by the strings of his hoodie, pressing your lips against his. 

His hands quickly found their way to your hips, leaning into you as he let you lead him. That made you feel a little more confident, remembering who had the experience here. His moan into the kiss made you pull at his bottom lip with your teeth, teasing him. 

“Fuck,” he breathed shakily, fingers digging into your soft skin. “Again.”

You giggled and did it again, feeling his tongue try and chase after yours. He seemed to learn fast with the way he pushed against your lips, sucking at your tongue while exploring your mouth like he was trying to mark every inch of it with himself. It only worsened the thrum in between your legs, making you a bit uncomfortable. 

Your whine into his mouth got his attention, and he pulled back to give you a little air, trying to catch his own breath. His eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, smirking.

“Anything else you wanna teach me?”

You bit into your lip, thighs pressed together.

“Yeah. I can think of a few more things.”

Eren was bent at the knees, face in between your legs with you on the desk, leaned back. He tried to get you to get in a more comfortable position but you kept reiterating that you wanted to be able to see what he was doing until you felt confident enough that he knew what he was doing without your guidance. He didn’t exactly see the need of you watching him to guide him but then again, what did he know?

He stared at your wet cunt, wondering what the hell to do. He’d never actually seen a vagina in real life. Well, if catching his grandma come out of her bath that one time when he was six didn’t count. Porn had truly been his best friend. He did learn that amateur porn was better to watch so he didn’t feel like a complete idiot when it came to trying the things he saw. It was just the fact that he was now meant to put all of that to the real test. Real, meaning giving you top tier head. It was a tall order but he refused being second to someone like Jean or just Jean himself. He’d never live that down.

“Eren.”

He snapped himself from his incessant habit to overthink and looked at you, eyebrows furrowed with clear worry. You couldn’t help but snort, finding it unusual that you were half laying on your back with your elbows bent to support your upper weight, looking down at a guy that had been staring at your vagina like it was the world’s most complex puzzle. It wasn’t everyday you fucked a virgin. In fact, you couldn’t even recall the last time you did. It was so long ago.

“Yeah?”

“Just…start by licking me here.” You reached down and drew a circle around your clit, making sure he knew exactly where to give his attention to. “That’s going to be your best friend until I…you know.“

It sounded strange explaining how to give you head but then again, if you wanted to cum — you had to give him clear instructions or else you were either going to have to lie or let him believe that he’d made you orgasm on his first try. Giving him that false sense of hope wasn’t what was going to help you sleep tonight at all. 

“Okay…” He looked back down at your pretty clit, and just stared for a few silent moments. You watched him and didn’t say a word, wanting to see how he’d do. It wasn’t really rocket science, you didn’t think. It was typically a woman’s pleasure button. Some of the lucky few were able to orgasm from penetration alone. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of the lucky few. At least, you didn’t think so. It’d never happened to you. Fucking Jean gave you a bit of hope considering his dick was nice and big, believing he was going to reach places no one’s ever touched. Sadly, no luck. 

Maybe Eren was going to be the lucky one.

Once he was done awkwardly staring at your vagina like it was going to attack him, he leaned forward, and the moment his mouth closed around your clit — your head fell back in ecstasy. It was as if he’d skipped several steps and went right for the main course. He sucked at the sensitive little bud, tongue lapping across it with vigour. He didn’t even give you time to adjust when he moaned around you, brows pushing together in concentration. He was also keeping an ear out for any sounds that left your mouth because that was going to be his guide. If you were quiet, then he’d need to try something different. If you were vocal, then that meant—

“Oh fuck, Eren! Right there!” You moaned out, nails scratching at the poor rusted wood of the desk.

Then that meant he was doing something right.

He couldn’t help but let himself get a little cocky, smirking around your clit, slurping you up like you were water. The obscene sounds that came from him eating you out should’ve embarrassed you but nothing like that came to mind. Eren was eating your pussy like he’d suddenly become a pro at it. He didn’t even need directions or instructions. There wasn’t even a need to finger you as you’d begun to feel your release edging and teasing the surface. 

You tried to conceal your loud moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your sweet clit made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. He was wild yet careful. Like he’d formed a plan in his head and had a set rhythm that he was sticking to. All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you couldn’t remember ever getting head this fucking good. 

Sooner than you were expecting, you quickly creamed all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty fingers. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from your high. Unable to ignore the need to rest your upper body any longer, you laid flat on your back, and panted, trying to catch your breath. 

Eren straightened his back and licked your juices from his lips before he used the sleeve of his hoodie to clean the rest of it from his face.

“So…how was it?”

You stared up at the ceiling for a second, mind boggled with the fact that he even felt the need to ask you how that was for you. Did he really have no idea? That was grade A head. Definitely what artists sang about in their songs or what writers wrote about in their smut filled books. That once in a lifetime experience that you’d end up remembering at 80 years old, for sure. 

When you finally were able to compose yourself, you raised back up on your elbows again with your eyebrows almost shot into your hairline.

“How was it? Eren…I’m not exaggerating but I could’ve sworn I saw god. What the fuck was that? I thought you didn’t know what you were doing,” you exclaimed, shaken up.

He laughed, shrugging. “I mean, I didn’t. Not really. I watched some stuff, but I didn’t have any hands-on experience.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

“So…” He looked around until he decided to let his curious green eyes land back on you, hands moving up your calves to your thighs. “What now?”

You shivered from his touch and thought about that for a moment. 

“I want to return the favor…” You replied, staring back with want.

“M’cool with that.”

You snorted. “Course you are.”

He chose to sit down in a nearby chair, manspreading while he looked at you with that infuriating cocky smirk. You couldn’t believe that his success at eating you out was already getting to his head like this. 

“Look,” you stood in between his long legs before bending down to your knees in front of him. His head was tilted, and he was giving you a look very appropriate for your current position. You were definitely horny again. “Do you want me to tell you that you just got lucky for your first try?”

Eren licked his bottom lip excruciatingly slowly before biting it, laughing. “Lucky? Maybe. I guess that means you’d have to let me do it again just to prove to you that maybe, just maybe, I might know what I’m doing.” His eyes flashed with mischief, irking you to death. He was still grinning, little smile lines at the corners of his lips. When you really looked at him, he was attractive. Dare say, he might’ve been one of the most attractive guys in the school and didn’t even know it. If he were to stop hiding himself in hoodies and sweats, there was no telling what his popularity were to look like. However, catching his beauty first, you almost wanted to gatekeep him from everyone else. No one needed to get a piece of what you were now claiming as yours. If they weren’t able to see his worth as he was now, then they didn’t deserve him any different. 

“You’re annoying,” you mumbled before you decided to focus on the task at hand.

He watched you tug his sweats down along with his boxers and couldn’t fight back a proud smile at the look on your face, witnessing the size of him. His dick was so thick and heavy, it laid against his upper thigh. Hard and pulsating. The head was an angry red, covered with his precum. There was no fucking way he’d been walking around school for four whole years carrying a monster cock like that. No wonder he walked as slow as he did. The thing attached to him had been slowing him down this entire time.

You gawked at it in awe, glancing from it back to him. “Are you kidding me?” He snickered as if this was really a laughing matter. You were stumped. “Eren…”

“Can we talk about me having the biggest dick in school after I cum?” He slid a hand down his clothed chest to take his dick in hand, giving himself a few lazy strokes. He huffed out a broken moan, staring down at you through half lidded eyes. “I need…”

It wasn’t looking like he was going to finish that sentence and maybe because he was too embarrassed to say whatever it was he wanted to say, noticing his cheeks heating up. Cute.

“Yeah yeah,” you said under your breath, moving forward to plant kisses up his thigh, feeling him shudder against you. When you got closer to where he needed you most, he moved his hand away, pushing up his hoodie so that it was out of the way. You were almost distracted by his abs again but you kept yourself focused, spreading your saliva over the head of his cock once you reached it. 

Eren clutched at his hoodie, groaning needily at the feeling of having your lips so close to him. You took him in your hand and couldn’t believe how heavy he actually was. You imagined having him inside of you. Tearing through your soft walls deliciously before making a home there, and fucking you stupid. He was so big, there was no way you weren’t going to cum multiple times in a row. You wondered if there was going to be enough time to get to that part.

“Please,” he muttered, biting into his lip with a shy expression on his pretty face. Cheeks as rosy as his lips. It was so distracting. “Can you please keep going?”

Who knew he was the begging type.

“Mmm,” you smirked to yourself, cupping his balls only for him to throw his head back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m getting to that, pretty boy. Relax.”

“Fuck,” he moaned at the pet name, trying to hold onto his sanity. Just having your hands on him was enough. He couldn’t even imagine what your mouth was going to feel like. Him hitting the back of your throat, filling it with so much sweet cum, making you swallow every bit of it. Fuck.

More pre dribbled onto your hand and you could tell that he wasn’t going to last much longer. This was going to be a quick blowjob. You were going to have to train him to last a little longer than this. 

Deciding on not using your mouth for now, you stood up to your feet, keeping his cock in your hand. You slid your palm up and down, using the precum and a bit of your saliva to keep it lubricated as you smiled sweetly, standing back in between his legs. He was breathing heavily now, abs tightening as he felt your thumb cross over his fat mushroom head, teasing him. He sat forward, looking up at you with desperate eyes that told you he’d do anything to cum right now and you bet he would. Such a pathetic look on such a pretty face.

How lucky you were.

You were still standing but were bent a bit so you could keep your stride going. His clouded emerald eyes were locked onto yours, a hand finding its way to your thigh to keep him grounded. Your tits were now directly in his face and he didn’t waste any time taking a nipple in his mouth. You moaned out in surprise, squeezing his cock in the process. He groaned around your breast, bringing you closer to him. He was fucking into your hand now, getting desperate. He was so close. So unimaginably close, he could feel the pressure rising at the center of his stomach. His hand left your thigh and wrapped his arms around your lower mid section and ass, keeping you there. 

“Eren,” you called for him, trying to get his attention. He was throbbing in your hold, veins more prominent than before you touched him. Without a word, you knew he was close. “Look at me.”

He popped off of your nipple, gazing up at him with such a far away look in his eyes. So pretty to look at. You were losing your mind over him.

“I want you to cum for me. Can you be good and do that?“

“Be good?” He asked, eyebrows drawing together with his lips parted. He tore his eyes from you and kissed at your stomach, nipping at your warm skin. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, just please. Need to cum so bad. I can’t…” his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, moaning louder now. 

His hips stuttered as you dipped down to capture his lips with your own, shoving your tongue down his throat. He choked on a moan, not knowing where to put his hands now. You stroked him faster and he panted against your lips, moaning hopelessly into your mouth. 

“Gonna cum. Gonna…M’gonna–”

“Wait.”

You pulled your lips away from his and quickly dropped down to your knees. He frowned at what you were doing but lost it the moment he felt your plump lips finally wrap around his thick cock. 

His long drawn out moan was either because of him shooting his seed down your throat or the feeling of your mouth on him, tongue swirling over his sensitive head. His cock pulsed and twitched as he continued letting you milk him dry, thighs quivering. He used an arm to cover part of his face as he made low noises that were moans but more whiny. 

“Please…Can you…?”

When you swallowed every drop of him, something you didn’t usually do with anyone you went down on, you let him go with a ‘pop’ sound, making his head spin once more. He was trying to catch his breath but you were greedy. 

You straddled his lap properly this time, feeling his flaccid cock against the crack of your ass. He groaned under his breath, hands quickly attaching themselves to your waist, dark eyes back on you again with a playful frown.

“Let’s forget I came early, yeah?”

You pucker your lips, tapping your index finger against your chin in thought. 

“Mm, how about…no?”

You giggled when you felt him squeeze your hips, frown deepening. He was so hot post orgasm, it should’ve been a downright crime. His forehead was dotted with small beads of sweat and the majority of his face was a little red. It paired well with his dark hair, dark brows and mystic green eyes. How had you not seen him in such a light before today? How did you miss him? 

His eyes searched your face trying to figure out what was going through your mind but you didn’t give him anymore of that opportunity when you began grinding down your hips, conveying through your actions what you wanted. 

He smirked lazily, leaning forward to where his lips ghosted over yours.

“If you want me to fuck you, just say that.”

“If I’m riding, that means I’m fucking you, pretty boy.”

Eren broke eye contact and dipped his face into your neck, groaning. There went that stupid pet name again. God, you were going to be the end of him.

“Fine,” He shot back, kissing at your collarbones. He smiled against your skin. “I guess this means I don’t hate you so much anymore.”

“Mmm,” You hands played with his hair, trying to continue ignoring the throb in between your legs. “Good. Shouldn’t have hated me anyway.” With enough of his hair in between your fingers, you gripped onto it and pulled his head back to face you. His lips parted in surprise. “In fact, I don’t think you ever really hated me in the first place. Maybe you wanted to but you couldn’t ignore how attracted you were to me. Isn’t that right?”

Eren swallowed the pool of saliva in his mouth before answering you, “I don’t…I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve been attracted to you but how does that correlate to me disliking you?”

“Because silly boy,” The playful smile on your face made him weary, wondering what you were going to say next. “–how can you hate someone that you wanna fuck so bad?”

He was hard again. It was surprising to him because it usually took him a minute for him to come back after a good orgasm but you were so…so alluring. Charming and very seductive. He didn’t foresee himself falling into the hands of you but there he was. Trapped by your fatal gaze, too captivated to look away. He didn’t even know what to say back to that because you were right. He’d spent too many nights fucking into his lousy hand picturing you on his cock instead. Desperate yet controlling at the same time. When he thought you were everything he wanted to stay away from, you were actually the very one he needed. He just couldn’t admit that to himself. Now, he could care less. He wanted you, and that was all that mattered to him.

Watching him fall into thought, you pouted and shifted up using his shoulders for leverage. You leaned forward and reached a hand down between your legs for his growing erection, taking his heavy length into your delicate hand. He let out a shuddered breath, blinking back into the present as he felt you tease the tip of his cockhead at your entrance. So wet, so warm, fuck he was gonna lose it again. 

Your name sounded heavenly coming from his pretty lips, eyes already pleading you to keep doing what you were doing. 

Your face was close to his, eyes eating up the way he panted, eyebrows knitted together. It was such a major contrast to the boy you’d watched walk into class earlier. The Eren in front of you was compliant and desperately wanting to cum again. 

He was such a hidden gem. How did you get so fucking lucky? 

“Shhh,” you told him, your lips against his as he whined, feeling you coat his length with your arousal, his hands gripping at your thighs that were still covered by the high socks you were wearing. “You’re so loud, baby. Can you be a little quieter for me?” He whimpered, chest rising and falling. “Unless you wanna be caught like this. If so…” you pecked his lips, giggling. “–then let’s see how much louder you can get for me.”

Eren didn’t have time to give you an answer back when you finally began sinking down onto him, inviting his fat cock into your warm cunt. The grip on your thighs tightened as his head fell back. The moan that left his mouth was loud but nothing that would’ve gotten you two caught. Least, not yet. 

“Shit,” he groaned deeply, jaw clenched. “I won’t be able to last that long. I could probably cum now. Just don’t move. Please don’t move,” he begged as if he was the one in control here. Did he forget who was on top?

With a smirk, you lowered yourself further down until you felt every inch of him pulsating against your soft, wet walls.

There was no doubt that he was in deep. He couldn’t even describe the feeling. The best he was able to do was think of it like a tight glove around his cock. He was positive that if you started moving, he was going to cum all up against your poor cervix, breeding you stupid. He was barely holding onto his sanity, having never felt anything as good as this. His hand was a poor imitation and hoped he never had to resort to it ever again as long as you existed. 

“Eren,” you cooed, bringing his head back forward by holding his face with your warm hands. “C’mon. I know that this is your first time having sex but hold out a while for me, yeah? If I lose you, I’ll just have to use you.” You grinned, “Though, I don’t think you’d mind that one bit, hm?” 

“God, just shut up and fuck me,” he blurted out, smacking your thigh with a tired frown. “Don’t make threats. Be about it, yeah?” He mocked, and had no clue what he was in for.

Your grin smoothed into a half smile. “Just know I’m not stopping until I’m done with you, and remember — you asked for it.”

With your hands back on his shoulders, you pushed yourself forward a bit until you slid off of him, but not all of the way. Just enough that when you slammed yourself back down, he was back to kissing your cervix. Both of your moans blended together and you did that a few more times until you found your rhythm. Eren was a mess of whines and groans, hands all over you. He was biting into your shoulder while heavily breathing against your neck. No matter what he was doing, he kept you close to his body and had no intention of letting you go. 

You bounced in his lap, his strong thighs able to keep you balanced enough to do a number on him. Your tits jiggled in front of him and it was like his civil duty to give them attention. The moment his mouth was on both of your nipples, you squeaked and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, trying to keep the same rhythm without being distracted. 

The way you were stretched out around his cock, creating the most obscene squelching sounds known to man, it was hard not filling your pretty pussy up with his cum already. Then the way you continued to slam your hips down onto him, it was too much. 

You felt so fucking good. 

The two of you continued like that until you began feeling tired, which was ironic considering you were the one that had told him you weren’t going to stop until you were done. Looks like that came early.

“M’starting to get a cramp, sorry,” you mumbled, stopping all movement and lying flat against him, trying to catch your breath. 

Eren was still incredibly hard but he didn’t want you to feel like you were the only one that was supposed to put in the work here. Not when he was able to help.

“Hold on,” he said against the shell of your ear before he slid his hands underneath your thighs, standing up.

You gasped and looked around, “Eren–”

“Mm, wait a sec.”

When he laid you down on a desk, your legs were at either side of his hips, pushed up with his hands at your knees. He smirked at the curious look on your face. 

“Don’t look so surprised. You couldn’t keep your word so now it’s time I make the same promise and make good on it.”

You frowned, easily huffing out into a pout. “That’s not fair. I tried.”

“I know,” he cooed, looking along your body with ravenous eyes. “But you couldn’t do it. That’s okay,” his eyes dropped to your glistening folds, humming to himself. “Now it’s my turn.”

You weren’t sure what to expect but just as he’d eaten you out earlier, he didn’t need any directions with fucking you just as good. 

It was a complete shock because he was a virgin. He had no sexual experience. Everything he knew came from porn. It was like he knew exactly where all of your pleasure points were and exploited them with each snap of his hips. He had a grip on your waist, focused on the way his girthy cock slid in and out your puffy cunt with ease. The desk rocked under your weight as you choked out a moan, trying to reach out for him.

With an amused grin, he entertained you by pulling you up and throwing your arms back around his neck as he continued to hammer into you, swallowing your moans, kissing you. Your moans were muffled now, just as his were. He didn’t want him to stop until you came. Maybe you didn’t want him to stop even after that. There was just something so addicting about him that you couldn’t place. It was frustrating. 

You were the first girl he’d ever fucked and it gave you a sense of possession. There was no way you were letting him go now. He was yours and no one else’s. Even if for some wild reason he didn’t want to see you again after this, you weren’t beneath begging him. Anything to keep him around for as long as possible. 

Little did you know, he felt the same way about you. If not more.

With your arms around his neck and his arms holding up your thighs as he fucked into you, the world around the two of you began to slowly disappear. Nothing nor anyone mattered except this moment, right here. You trembled against his hard body, letting him mold your little cunt to fit his cock and his cock only from now on. So stuffed, so full, you couldn’t even think straight. 

“Eren, I’m s’close,” you mumbled against his lips, whining pathetically. “Please cum in me. M’on the pill so it’s okay.”

Like he wasn’t going to fill you up anyway. He had zero plans of pulling out considering the only thing that was able to stay on his mind before anything else was the way your pussy gripped his cock like you didn’t want him to pull out. Like you were trapping him in. He didn’t mind it. It was good he had the go to do it because he was going to feel bad afterwards. 

“You were right,” he said, holding eye contact. “I’ve never hated you. I’ve been attracted to you for a pretty long time but it’s deeper than that. I didn’t…hit Jean earlier just because he was bad mouthing you.“

His thrusts didn’t stop so you were having a hard time focusing on what he was saying but you did your best because it sounded important. “I punched him because…” He bit his lip, almost wanting to look away from you, clearly embarrassed. “–because I’ve also been obsessed with you. Then he said he fucked you recently and I didn’t know how to react but was it true? Did you really fuck him?”

Earlier, when he gave you and Jean some thought, he was a little convinced that it actually happened but for some reason, a part of him kept trying to deny it. Maybe it was due to the fact that he hated the idea of you going back to Jean, even if it was a one time thing. He couldn’t fuck you until he got the answer he was looking for. He also needed to know that Jean was completely out of the picture or there was going to be a problem. 

You sputtered, being put on the spot. “I- Well, yeah? I mean…It wasn’t really planned. But wait, so you’ve been obsessed with me? For how long? Why didn’t you say anything? Did you think I wouldn’t have been interested? What else is ther–Ah!” He thrusted deeper into you, a high pitched whine slipping from your lips as your nails sunk into his back. 

“You’re asking too many questions,” He growled out, frowning as he used your cunt like his own personal cocksleeve. “Picturing him fucking you the way I am is pissing me off. I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

You were shaking now and not just from the force of his pounding but from how close you were to your release. He was now fucking you with newfound hatred, the image of you with Jean stuck in his mind. He hated it. Hated how long he wanted to be the one fucking you. The only one you were allowed to let touch you when you felt like being touched. How it took him too long to prevent any of it from happening. If only he had spoken up sooner, you would’ve been his a long time ago. 

“I’m gonna erase every part of him from you, do you understand?” 

The way the head of his cock kept hitting that one spot that made you a whimpering mess before him — it was too hard for you to have a conversation with him. At this rate, you were going to legitimately forget your own name. You still hadn’t recovered from him eating you out earlier, pieces of that memory playing over and over in your head as you tried to stay grounded. Your pretty moans bounced off of the empty classroom walls, a wonder how no one caught the two of you yet.

“No one’s gonna fuck this pussy but me and I fuckin’ mean it,” he continued to mutter, hot with anger and frustration.

It was your fault for having a body like that. For being so nice to people and coming off too trusting. Maybe you weren’t desperate but he couldn’t help but wonder why you walked around acting like it. Then again, none of that mattered now. You were his and he was going to make sure everyone knew it. That was going to start by him giving you obvious dark marks along your neck. 

“Eren,” you stuttered out, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. “Gonna…I’m…” you closed your eyes, feeling his lips on your neck. He fucked into you like it was his last day on earth and nothing could’ve torn you two apart. “Fuck, I can’t! I can’t, I can’t,” you babbled on and on until he felt you suddenly tighten around his length, creaming lewdly around his throbbing cock.

Your breath was sporadic, still holding onto him as he jack-hammered into you without remorse for the overstimulation you were feeling. You moaned out his name, pleading for him to slow down but he was chasing his own high. Plus, he wasn’t stopping until you were full with his cum. He needed to fill you up. His sanity depended on it. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. I wouldn’t be able to pull out even if I tried,” he commented with a lazy smirk against your warm skin, gripping onto you. “Stay just like that. Let me use you until I’m done, ‘k?”

Like he needed to wait until you answered him. He didn’t stop. He pounded at your poor abused cunt, eyebrows furrowed as he felt his stomach tighten. His abs tensed under the growing pressure and as soon as he heard your sweet voice, he let it all go.

“Cum for me, Eren.”

He filled your fertile womb up with the intent to breed you full, knowing that you were on birth control. Still, the thought counted.

You let him ride out his orgasm, not having the least bit of energy to make any sort of movements anyway. Your vagina felt like it was ready to run away from you with the way Eren treated it. He sure knew how to catch onto stuff fast. This was a memory that you weren’t ever going to forget. Hopefully, it was going to be replaced with many more.

“Fuck,” he said in a low tone, sweat rolling down the side of his face as he pulled his softening dick out of you. 

He couldn’t help but bend at the knees, eagerly awaiting the cum he’d stuffed in you to come oozing out. 

Your legs remained wide and open, looking down at him with a raised brow. The moment he caught the shine of his seed tumbling out of your fucked out hole, he smirked. “That’s it.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he heard you mumble and couldn’t help but laugh, looking up at you through dark lashes. 

“What?” He stood up, pulling his sweatpants up with him. He licked his lips, fitting himself in between your thighs once more. “Can’t I finally claim what’s always been mine?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully, before you pushed your skirt back down and stared back at him. “Always been yours? Care to explain?”

He smirked. “Happily. First off–”

“What in the world are you two doing back there?” Mrs. Ackerman screeched, a look of horror written all over her face.

Scared out of your skin by her sudden reappearance, you pushed Eren back and almost fell trying to get off of the desk. You reached for your forgotten underwear on the floor while Eren stuttered out an excuse, his ears growing red.

“W-well, we uh–”

“Gotta go!” You finished for him, grabbing his wrist with your stuff in your hands. “See you tomorrow for detention, Mrs. Ackerman! Bye!” 

“Wait–!” Eren mumbled, tripping up on his own feet as you two headed for the secondary door at the back of the classroom. Before leaving, he’d managed to swipe his belongings from the desk he was sitting at along with his book bag. 

When you two were pretty far down the hallway for Mrs. Ackerman to catch up, you stopped and let him go, trying to catch your breath. It didn’t dawn on you that you were still without underwear until you felt your skirt rise. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed in embarrassment, slapping Eren’s hand away. He laughed.

“Put them on. It’s kinda windy outside.”

“I know what to do,” you said in a pout, doing exactly that as you hid behind him in case someone decided to come down the same hallway.

His tone was more on the possessive side which made you think that maybe a conversation needed to be had. You weren’t sure if he was going to laugh at the idea of becoming a thing or tell you that it was the last thing he wanted. Or worse, that he never wanted to do anything like that ever again. The latter was going to hurt the most so you chose to think positively instead. The signs pointed to him saying yes, and that was what made you stand back up with a smile on your face. 

Eren raised a brow, “Satisfied? What’s on your mind?”

“Well,” you began, hoping that you were going to be able to get your thoughts together in time to ask him what you wanted to say, “So, how was your first time?”

He bursted out with laughter, drawing a cute frown on your face. “It was good, but that’s not what you really want to ask me.” He stepped closer to you, almost close enough to touch you. “So ask me.”

“Oh,” You looked down, hating how intimidating he was coming across just because of his height and sudden change in demeanor. You weren’t usually this lost for words. It was annoying. “I just…Do you like me?”

“I do,” He answered straight away, causing your head to pop back up, looking at him with hope in your eyes. He smiled. “I wouldn’t have had sex with you if I didn’t. Now I have a question for you.” He took your face in his hands, eyes softening enough to calm the nervous butterflies in your stomach. “I know I made it clear that I don’t want you with anyone else but it wouldn’t be official unless I asked, do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

It was as if your heart had flown right out of your chest and took flight into the skies. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He wanted you to be his girlfriend. His girlfriend. You. 

Even though you were pretty popular, that meant nothing to you. Not when it came to someone like Eren wanting to be official with you. Especially since it’d taken four years for you to finally see him and know what his true feelings for you were. Happy was an understatement. You were over the moon. 

“Well?” His voice brought you from your thoughts, a faint worried look in his verdant green eyes. You gave him a soft smile, covering the hand he had on your cheek with your own. 

“I would love to be your girlfriend, ‘ren.”

He immediately flashed his white teeth, happy that you said yes. He took you into his arms by your waist, and pressed his lips against yours. Easily, you melted into the kiss, feeling your heart wash over with warmth. 

Eren was yours and you were his. As crazy as it seemed, you didn’t see it coming. None of it. Eren was the quiet guy and you were the outgoing, popular girl. It was going to be a major shock to the entire school when they witnessed you two walk through those double doors in the morning but you weren’t going to be phased by any of the attention. All you cared about now was him. 

Your cute little boyfriend.

Had a nice ring to it.

“Mine,” he said against your lips and you giggled, burying your face into his chest. 

“Yeah, all yours. Now let’s go. I feel gross and want a shower.”

He pouted as you took his hand and tugged him down the hall, towards the double doors that led outside. 

“Can’t you keep it in a little longer?” He whined, walking a little behind you. “Selfish.”

“Eren, I am not keeping all of this cum in me. You’ve lost your mind. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.”

“Speaking of butts…” He trailed off, smirking as he lifted your skirt up again with his index finger to get another peek. You exhaled loudly and smacked his hand away without turning around, trudging down the hall with a warm face and butterflies in your stomach again. 

Annoying. 

a/n: sorry if the ending was a little flat, if you haven’t been able to tell i suck at them;( but i hope that it was still decent ! ty for reading & expect more content soon <3

tags: @tojidilfs | @thescorpiohottie | @magshenn | @dayyy-siii | @recklezzezrae | @psaikichic | @lovereren | @wishartszxxyuh | @ushijimasslut | @tengenlover | @sarcasticallydrowning | @nothingtoseehereeee | @butterfliesroses | @okaywhorestop | @xconniesgirl | @missyasma | @leannasblog | @bbystarcandyy | @bakagun1312 | @Yxnbxbe | @cvcks1ut <33

© all content belongs to temptedbysyn 2022. do not modify or translate without permission.

miya osamu who is possessive. he makes sure you know you're his. grabby in public, hand on your back, your waist, fingers in your pussy on public transport. i feel like he's the kinda guy to apologize when he's going to rough, when he's hurting you, but he just can't help it. probably has a breeding kink and just wants to stuff you so full

axiom // miya osamu

tw ⇢ possessive!osamu, jealous!osamu, lots of pda, public sex, fingering, begging, asphyxiation, breeding, multiple rounds, creampie, unprotected sex, one spank, overstimulation, name calling, praise kink (receiving), marking, getting caught

wc ⇢ 7.7k

a/n: spent all night writing this for you, nonnie. god, i wanna marry samu so bad

The familiar bustle of Onigiri Miya surrounded you as you tended to the last customer of the day. The aroma of freshly cooked rice and savory fillings filled the air, but beneath the comforting scents, an undercurrent of tension emanated from your boyfriend. Though Osamu tried to maintain a casual demeanor, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance, you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his mounting frustration.

The way his hand curled into a tight fist, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The rhythmic throbbing of the vein in his neck, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat. The clenching of his chiseled jaw, the muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Even the aggressive tapping of his foot against the tiled floor betrayed his inner turmoil, each staccato beat echoing in the space between you.

Your own heart raced with a potent mix of concern and confusion. What had triggered this sudden change in Osamu's usually calm, patient demeanor? It was a rarity to see him so visibly agitated, his composure cracking under the weight of an unknown pressure. As the customer finally took their leave, you allowed your gaze to wander around the shop, seeking answers in the familiar surroundings.

That's when your eyes met Atsumu's. He sat at a nearby table, his long fingers absently tapping against the polished mahogany surface, a pensive expression etched onto his handsome features. The moment your gazes locked, however, his eyes widened momentarily, a flicker of recognition sparking within their depths. Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he held the key to a secret you had yet to find out.

The unease that had been simmering in your gut intensified, a sense of foreboding washing over you like a chilling wave. What did Atsumu know that you didn't? Before you could dwell on the question further, a pair of strong, familiar arms coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of Osamu's chest.

The sudden contact sent a shiver racing down your spine, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected intimacy. "'Samu? What's—"

"The back. Now." His voice was low and clipped, each word laced with an authority that left no room for argument. The warning squeeze of his fingers against your hip only served to emphasize the urgency of his demand.

Waves of apprehension crashed over you as you processed his words, your mind reeling with the implications. Osamu was undeniably angry—that much was clear from the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. But the reason behind his ire eluded you.

With a hesitant nod, you released yourself from his embrace and began to make your way towards the storage room at the back of the shop. Each step felt heavy, as if your feet were encased in concrete, your mind spinning with a whirlwind of possibilities. What had you done to incite such a reaction from your usually level-headed boyfriend?

Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as you waited anxiously in the small, musty confines of the storage room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried goods and cleaning supplies, the shelves looming overhead like silent sentinels. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, a frantic bird desperate to escape its bony prison.

When the door finally creaked open, signaling Osamu's arrival, your breath lodged in your throat, your pulse skyrocketing with a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation. You barely had a chance to utter a word, to form a coherent thought, before he was upon you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, possessive kiss.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, fingers digging into the pliant flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, erasing any lingering distance between your bodies. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your parted lips, muffled by the insistent press of his mouth against yours. Your own hands rose to clutch at his broad shoulders, fingernails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you surrendered to the intensity of his kiss.

The heat of his body, the unyielding pressure of his lips, sent desire coursing through your veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole. Just as quickly as it began, however, Osamu abruptly tore his mouth away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

"What was his name?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, his stormy eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"Wh-what?" you managed to stammer, your mind still hazy from the intoxicating kiss, struggling to make sense of his sudden question.

"That last customer, what was his name?" Osamu repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his tone, his words laced with a subtle growl.

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts, attempting to grasp the significance of his inquiry. "Keisuke. Why?"

Something dark and primal flickered in the gunmetal depths of Osamu's eyes, a possessiveness that sent a delicious thrill racing down your spine. He reached for you once more, his large hand splaying across the small of your back, pressing your body flush against the hard planes of his chest. "So you remember his name?"

"What the—"

Your words were cut off by Osamu's exasperated sigh as he released you roughly, causing you to stumble back a step, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. Any retort you might have mustered died on your tongue as you watched him reach for his belt, his intentions unmistakable in the purposeful movements of his fingers.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise, dripping with dark intentions that made your core clench with anticipation. "By the time we're done, you won't even remember what he looked like. Now, why don't you bend over f’me?"

There was a certain smugness in the way he spoke, as if he knew he'd already won. And the worst part was, deep down, you knew he was right. Because as you bent over, ass up, ready to take him, all thoughts of the nameless customer were wiped from your mind. The only name that mattered was Osamu's, and by the time he was done with you, you'd be screaming it loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

As his name spilled from your lips, tinged with a mix of reverence and desire, you knew you were lost. But as his fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing against the heated flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your core, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Fuck, you're already soaked, sweetheart," Osamu groaned, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles around your clit.

"I'm not the only one," you gasped, arching your back and pressing against his hard length, trapped inside his jeans.

"Oh yeah? And who's fault is that, huh?" he murmured, swiftly turning you around to face him, the tip of his nose grazing along your jaw, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

"Yours," you replied breathlessly, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Damn right it's mine."

You could feel his smile against your skin, and despite the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you couldn't help but grin. He was arrogant, but he had every right to be. He was the one who'd managed to make you this wet, after all.

With practiced ease, he slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor in a silken puddle. Then, without warning, his fingers were inside you, curling and pumping with a rhythm that had your knees buckling.

"Fuck, 'Samu," you whimpered, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his bicep, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped indents.

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. "Let me hear how much you love this."

You could only moan in response, his fingers working their magic inside you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hands continued to work on freeing his cock, a task made more difficult by the distracting waves of pleasure radiating through your body. But, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to release him from his confines, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, stroking him with a pace that matched his own.

His fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your combined pleasure filling the air, a lewd melody that only served to heighten the intensity of your impending release. You could feel the tension building inside you, like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment.

And when it did, it was with a ferocity that left you shaking in his arms.

Osamu's fingers worked you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure before pulling out. You barely had a moment to recover before his cock was sliding between your folds, coating himself with your juices.

"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, his voice strained with desire, the heat of his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body.

"Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his, a playful glint in their depths. "Stop teasing me."

His lips curved into a smirk, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, before landing a sharp smack against your ass. The unexpected sting only fueled your desire, a gasp slipping past your lips.

"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

With agonizing slowness, he slid inside you, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim.

You couldn't help but moan, the sensation of being filled by him sending a rush of ecstasy through your veins. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before beginning to move.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a breathless moan from you. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coupled with the friction of his pelvis against your clit, was enough to send you spiraling into another mind-blowing orgasm.

"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, come for me," he growled, his own pleasure evident in his voice, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his shaft.

As the waves of bliss began to recede, you could feel him picking up his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, the bite of his nails against your skin, only serving to intensify the pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Come on, 'Samu, fill me up," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathless plea.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully, the tension of his impending release coiling through his body.

And with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you trembling and breathless.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. Before you had a chance to recover, however, he was capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the taste of him mingling with the sweet flavors of his food.

"What brought this on?" you asked breathlessly, once he'd finally released you. He smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "Can't a man want to fuck his girlfriend without having to justify it?"

"You're unbelievable," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"You love it," he teased, pulling you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "And I'm not finished with you yet."

Realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your pulse into overdrive. Osamu was jealous. The man renowned for his unwavering patience, the one who had endured countless incidents of his brother's shameless flirting and innumerable customers vying for your attention, had finally reached his breaking point.

A thrill raced through you at the thought, your skin prickling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. Osamu had always been an attentive, passionate lover, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing day. But you knew that beneath the surface, he kept his darker desires locked away, a carefully maintained restraint that never fully unleashed the depth of his hunger for you.

Now, it seemed, that fragile control had shattered. From that moment on, everything shifted, the very fabric of your relationship rewoven with the threads of Osamu's all-consuming possessiveness.

Gone were the days of working the front counter, of engaging in friendly banter with the customers who frequented Onigiri Miya. Osamu's jealousy knew no bounds, his need to stake his claim on you overriding any semblance of professional decorum. Each night, he would pull you into the back room, his hands roaming your body with a desperate urgency, his lips marking your skin with bruising kisses that served as a reminder of who you belonged to.

At first, the intensity of his passion was exhilarating, a heady rush that left you craving more. The way he claimed you, the force of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes—it all combined to create a potent mix of desire that coursed through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze with an insatiable need.

But as time wore on, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship began to show, Osamu's jealousy bleeding into every aspect of your daily life like an insidious poison.

It started with small gestures in public, seemingly innocent displays of affection that belied a deeper, more primal urge. The way his fingers would intertwine with yours, his grip just a little too tight, a silent declaration of ownership. The way he would bring your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his eyes daring anyone to challenge his claim on you. The way he would pull you close, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders, a tangible barrier between you and the rest of the world.

But as the days turned into weeks, Osamu's actions grew bolder, more brazen in their possessiveness. It was as if he needed to constantly remind the world that you were his and his alone, consequences be damned.

One particularly memorable incident occurred outside the shop, as you waited for Osamu to join you for your anniversary date. The evening air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. A group of teenagers loitered nearby, their laughter and chatter filling the night with a youthful exuberance.

You paid them no mind, lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated the romantic evening ahead. That is, until one of the boys broke away from the group, sauntering towards you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, his eyes alight with a boldness born of teenage bravado.

"Hey, lady—"

The words had barely left his mouth when Osamu appeared at your side, his arm snaking around your waist in a clear display of possession. His grip was iron-clad, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip, a silent warning to anyone who dared to encroach on his territory.

"She's taken. Fuck off." His voice was a menacing growl, low and guttural, laced with a palpable threat that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting shade of gray, had hardened into chips of ice, narrowed in a withering glare that could have frozen the very marrow in the unfortunate teenager's bones.

The boy, to his credit, had the good sense to retreat, scurrying back to the safety of his friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Osamu's chest puffed out in satisfaction, a primal display of dominance that sent a thrill racing through your veins. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair, a silent affirmation of his love and protection.

From that moment on, Osamu's public displays of affection only escalated, each one more daring than the last. At a dinner with Atsumu and his teammates, he kept you wedged firmly between his solid form and his brother's, a human shield against any unwanted advances. His hand rested possessively on your thigh beneath the table, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, a private claiming that set your nerves alight.

When the waiter had the audacity to openly flirt with you, going so far as to ask for your number in front of the entire table, a tense silence descended upon the group. Forks paused midway to mouths, eyes darting between you, Osamu, and the oblivious server, a collective breath held in anticipation of the impending fallout.

To everyone's surprise, Osamu remained outwardly calm, his expression betraying no hint of the storm brewing beneath the surface. He allowed you to politely decline the waiter's advances, your words measured and diplomatic, even as your heart raced with a mix of discomfort and irritation.

The waiter, however, seemed determined to push his luck, his eyes lingering on your face, his smile just a touch too friendly, his words laced with a suggestive undertone that made your skin crawl. Atsumu, ever the protective brother, was about to intervene, his patience wearing thin in the face of the waiter's persistence.

But before he could utter a word, Osamu cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "Oh, I need to go and close up shop. I'll see you home, honey."

With that, he reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of your hair. He pulled you in close, his lips claiming yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into overdrive.

He made a show of it, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, a soft moan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless and flushed, your lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

The waiter, thoroughly humiliated, could only stand there, his mouth agape, his cheeks stained a deep crimson. Osamu, for his part, merely smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slowly walked out of the restaurant.

In the days that followed, Osamu's possessiveness seemed to level off, the tension in his body easing, the constant need to hover at your side diminishing. But his desire to touch you, to stake his claim on your body and soul, remained as insatiable as ever.

One particularly memorable incident occurred on a crowded train, your bodies pressed flush against each other in the cramped confines of the carriage. The gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels against the tracks, created a hypnotic backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You felt the ghost of Osamu's touch on the back of your thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing up your spine. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, a silent question in your gaze.

Osamu merely smiled, the curve of his lips soft and affectionate, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against yours in a tender gesture that belied the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning across your face, his words a sinful promise that made your core clench with anticipation. "You just look so irresistible today. I can't keep my hands off of you."

As he spoke, his fingers inched higher, grazing the lace edge of your panties, a teasing touch that set your nerve endings ablaze. Your heart raced, a potent cocktail of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your skin prickling with a heady mix of desire and apprehension.

Osamu's hands were blatantly beneath your skirt now, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your rear, his touch bold and unapologetic. If the train hadn't been so crowded, your intimate moment would have been on display for all to see, a public claiming that sent a thrill racing down your spine. But Osamu showed no signs of stopping, his lips peppering your face with tender kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing second.

The feeling of being desired, of being wanted so fiercely by the man you loved, was intoxicating. The thrill of potentially getting caught only heightened the experience, sending a flood of heat pooling between your thighs.

You leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hand gripped his bicep, your nails digging into the smooth skin, a silent plea for more.

"Osamu, please..."

The soft, breathless whisper was enough to shatter the last vestiges of his self-control. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, a sinful, desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue.

His hands roamed your body with a fervent urgency, mapping every curve and plane with an intimate familiarity, as if committing each inch of your skin to memory. His touch was a branding, a burning mark of possession, his desire a blazing inferno that threatened to consume you both.

You clung to him, your fingers grasping at his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly between trembling digits, as you tried to ground yourself amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions. Your heart raced, a deafening crescendo pounding in your ears, the very air around you charged with the electric energy of your passion.

Osamu's lips traced a heated path along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, his tongue laving the tiny bite marks, soothing the sting with his gentle ministrations.

"Mine," he breathed, the word a reverent, possessive murmur against your ear, a secret only you were privy to. "All mine."

His hands roamed the supple curve of your ass, his fingers squeezing the pliant flesh, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest.

"Fuck, baby, I want you so bad."

His voice was a low, husky rumble, laced with an aching need that made your pussy clench, the heat between your thighs nearly unbearable.

"I want to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they know you're mine."

You could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, a tangible proof of his desire, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you like a cloud. You swallowed thickly, your lips parted in a silent moan, a heady mix of pleasure and fear coursing through your veins.

"God, Samu, please..."

Your words trailed off, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper, as Osamu's hands found their way between your thighs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of your panties, the feather-light touch eliciting a gasp from you, the sound drowned out by the clamor of the train.

"Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me." His words were a sultry growl, laced with a dark, primal hunger, the sound sending a shiver of desire racing down your spine.

Your mind was hazy, the sensations overwhelming, your body thrumming with a desperate, aching need. Your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for more, a plea he was only too happy to oblige.

"That's it, baby, let me take care of you." His fingers slipped beneath the thin, silky fabric of your panties, his thumb brushing against the slick, sensitive bud of your clit, a teasing touch that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. You bit back a moan, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip, the faint metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet, salty taste of Osamu's kisses.

His fingers slid along your dripping folds, the sensation almost unbearably intense, the sound of his voice, a low, sultry murmur, drowning out the chaos around you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, don't worry."

With that, his fingers plunged inside you, his deft digits stretching you in the most delicious way, a welcome intrusion that made your core clench, a choked whimper escaping your lips.

You clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne a heady, intoxicating scent.

Your hips rocked against his hand, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the sway of the train, the friction creating a delicious, aching friction that threatened to send you over the edge.

"Samu, please, I need you," you whispered, your words a breathless, desperate plea, your core clenching around his fingers.

Osamu chuckled, the sound a dark, seductive rumble, the low timbre vibrating through your body. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin, a sensual, forbidden promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart, l'm gonna give you everything you need."

As he spoke, his fingers moved deeper within you, the pads of his digits brushing against the bundle of nerves hidden within your walls, a spot he knew all too well. He increased the pressure, the movements of his fingers unrelenting, the pace building, a slow, torturous crescendo.

The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, the air in your lungs burning, the muscles of your thighs quivering, the heat coiling deep within you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, the words slipping from your lips a frantic, broken mantra.

"Please, please, please, Samu, please."

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into the warm cavern of your mouth, a deep, carnal melding of lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers were a relentless piston within you, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure coursing through your veins, the intensity making your knees buckle, your fingers digging into the solid muscles of his biceps. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the smug, satisfied curve of his mouth only adding to the overwhelming sensations.

He slowed his movements, the pace languid and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible, the soft, teasing caresses making your toes curl, a shuddering aftershock rippling through your body. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, his lips lingering against yours, a soft, loving press, before slowly pulling away.

His eyes were hooded, the gray orbs a stormy, smoky shade, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips were slightly swollen, a rosy pink from the fervent nature of his kisses, the curve of his smile a tender, adoring expression.

"God, I love you," he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper, a sacred declaration.

You could feel the blush blooming across your cheeks, a rosy, flustered flush that made him chuckle. His thumb gently wiped away the stray tear that had slipped from your eye, his touch a reassuring, steadying caress.

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your lips before carefully extracting his hand from between your thighs. You watched, mesmerized, as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out, a sly, teasing lick, his eyes never leaving yours.

"God, baby, you taste so good," he murmured, the words a low, husky rumble, his voice laced with a dark, sensual undercurrent.

"I could eat you all day."

You shuddered, a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, the very image a visceral, erotic fantasy come to life. But before you could respond, the train screeched to a halt, the automated voice announcing your stop, the sudden cacophony of voices and movement jolting you back to reality.

You hastily smoothed down your clothes, your hands frantically straightening your skirt, a vain attempt to hide the evidence of your passion. Your hair was a mess, the once carefully styled strands now tousled and tangled, a disheveled testament to the fervent nature of Osamu's affections.

By the time you reached your stop, your body was thrumming with a desperate need, your core aching for the relief that only his cock could provide.

As he led you off the train, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, your mind swirled with a dizzying array of emotions. The intensity of Osamu's love, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own, was both thrilling and overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to consume you whole.

The moment you crossed the threshold of Osamu's house, the air between you crackled with a palpable tension, a desperate hunger that could no longer be denied. With a growl of impatience, Osamu's strong hand encircled your wrist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tugged you towards the bedroom, his movements fueled by a primal urgency that set your blood ablaze.

The door swung open with a bang, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot, but neither of you paid it any mind. Osamu's focus was solely on you, his stormy gray eyes darkened with a lust that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a frenzy.

In a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, you tumbled onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath your weight. Osamu wasted no time in climbing over you, his body a solid, comforting weight that pressed you into the plush comforter. His legs straddled your hips, his knees bracketing your thighs, keeping you pinned in place, a willing captive to his desire.

Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your skin prickling with anticipation as Osamu lowered his head, his lips seeking yours in a bruising kiss that stole the air from your lungs. The press of his mouth was demanding, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours in a sensual dance that set your nerve endings ablaze.

His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, his fingers skimming over the curves and planes of your form, mapping every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. Each touch, each caress, each scrape of his blunt nails against your flesh sent bolts of electricity racing through your veins, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole.

You arched into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that assaulted your senses. The scent of him, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk, filled your nostrils, intoxicating you with its potency.

The taste of him, a tantalizing blend of mint and spice, lingered on your tongue, leaving you wanting more. The feel of him, his skin burning hot against your own, his muscles flexing beneath your palms, was almost too much to bear.

You were drowning in him, consumed by his love and desire, and you never wanted it to end.

With a groan, he tore his lips from yours, his gaze raking over your flushed features, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Mine," he breathed, the word a low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Mine to fuck. Mine to breed."

The promise of his words, the raw, visceral need in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded to him instinctively, your thighs parting to allow him access, your core aching with an emptiness that only he could fill.

You were his. And you always would be.

A feral grin spread across Osamu's face, his canines glinting in the low light as he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and satisfaction.

"Your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response, the anticipation of what was to come rendering you speechless.

Osamu leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. "I belong to you, Osamu."

He let out a low rumble of approval, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours. "That's right," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "And I'm going to remind you of that, over and over again. I'm going to fill you with my seed until there's no doubt in your mind who you belong to."

Osamu shifted, his knees pushing your thighs wider apart as he settled between your legs, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of what was to come making your pulse race and your stomach flutter.

You were desperate for him, aching for the pleasure only he could give you. But before you could reach for him, he grasped your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head, his grip rough and commanding.

"Stay still," he commanded, his free hand tracing a slow path down your chest, his fingers skimming over the curve of your breast before cupping the mound, his thumb grazing over the taut peak of your nipple.

The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your back arching off the mattress, a needy moan slipping past your lips.

"Patience," he chided, his touch featherlight as he continued to tease your sensitive bud, his dark gaze drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Arousal pooled between your thighs, the dampness of your panties betraying your desperation.

"So eager," he mused, his fingers pinching your nipple, the sudden burst of pain mixing with pleasure. "But we're just getting started."

Osamu released your wrists, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He dipped lower, his digits finding your slick entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, deliberate stroke.

Your hips bucked against his touch, your need for release becoming unbearable, but Osamu held you in place, his fingers circling your clit with a torturous slowness that made you squirm.

"Please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy. "Please, Osamu. I need you."

"I know," he replied, his tone husky with lust.

"I need you too. I need to fill you with my cum, to breed you like the good little girl you are."

Arousal trickled down your thighs as his fingers stroked your folds, his touch alternating between rough and gentle, his movements designed to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your skin burning with a feverish heat as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. But just as you were about to fall over the edge, Osamu pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with your juices.

"Not yet," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sticky-sweet liquid from his digits. "I want to savor this."

He pressed his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core.

You could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire coursing through his veins mirroring your own. His desire to claim you, to mark you as his, was undeniable, his need for you almost feral in its intensity.

As his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs, his breath fanned against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "I'm going to breed you. Going to fill your pretty little pussy with my cum, over and over again, until your womb is filled to the brim. I'm going to breed you, and you're going to beg me for it."

The sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of fabric, sent a thrill of anticipation through your body, your core clenching with need.

Osamu gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance.

"This is mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessive hunger as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls with a delicious friction that sent a ripple of pleasure through your body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

You clung to him, your nails raking across his back as he buried himself inside you, his girth filling you completely. His thrusts were hard and deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit, the pressure building with each passing second.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your eyes locked with his as he fucked you with a ferocious passion, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching places that made you see stars.

Your moans mingled with his, the sounds of pleasure filling the air, the two of you lost in a primal dance of ecstasy.

The feeling of him, his thick shaft pulsing inside you, his breath hot against your neck, was almost too much to bear. But just as the familiar tension coiled low in your abdomen, just as the pressure threatened to overwhelm you, Osamu pulled out, leaving you teetering on the brink of release.

"Not yet," he growled, his gaze dark and wild as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

Your fingers curled around the sheets, a moan slipping past your lips as his cock teased your entrance, his tip barely grazing your folds.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he plunged into you, his pace frantic and demanding.

Your walls clenched around him, your body shuddering with each thrust, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take my cock," he growled, his hand snaking around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "I'm going to breed you like the little cumdumpster you are. I'm going to fill you so full of my cum that you'll be leaking it for days."

His words ignited a fire in your core, the friction of his cock against your walls sending a wave of pleasure through your body, your climax crashing over you in an earth-shattering orgasm.

Your walls clamped down on him, your body writhing beneath him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless chant.

"Cumming for me already?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. "I'm not surprised. Your body was made for this, made for me. You're going to take all my cum, aren't you?"

You could barely form a coherent response, his relentless pounding overwhelming your senses.

The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, his grip on your throat tightening, his breath hot against your skin, was almost too much to bear.

The coil within you tightened, the pressure mounting, until it finally snapped, your vision going white as another orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the last.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips stuttering as he reached his own peak, his cock pulsing inside you, spurts of hot cum filling you to the brim.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cum, pretty."

You sagged against him, your limbs trembling, your core clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.

You felt him lean forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm not done with you yet. This is just the beginning."

As the minutes passed, you slowly came down from your high, the room coming back into focus, the scent of sweat and sex permeating the air. Your heart hammered in your chest, your body aching from the strain of being used, but Osamu's hold on you was gentle, his touch soft as he cradled you against his chest.

"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, his fingers trailing over your skin. "I'm so proud of you."

You hummed in response, too exhausted to speak, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

But the moment his hands began to roam once more, his fingers teasing your still-sensitive folds, his lips trailing down your neck, you knew that the night was far from over.

His touch, his love, his desire, was a drug that you could never get enough of. And as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, his cock hardening against your thigh, you knew that you were powerless to resist.

As the night wore on, the intensity between you and Osamu only seemed to grow, each moment more heated than the last. His touch, his kiss, his very presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into a world where only the two of you existed.

Hours later, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the evidence of your passion was clear. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. Your clothes lay strewn about, a reminder of the urgency with which they had been discarded.

Your body hummed with a pleasant ache, a physical reminder of the pleasure you had shared. Osamu's arm was draped across your waist, his chest pressed against your back as he slept, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

Osamu had been true to his word, claiming you again and again, filling you with his cum until your core was dripping with it, the smell of sex permeating the air.

You couldn't remember how many times you had orgasmed, how many times he had driven you to the brink of madness, but the memory of his touch, his lips, his cock, was seared into your mind.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your womb, was enough to make your toes curl.

You could still feel him, his cock still snugly encased within your gummy walls, ensuring that none of his potent seed escaped you while he slept.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, a sudden commotion from the living room jolted you awake. Beside you, Osamu stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

Before either of you could investigate, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a grinning Atsumu. He took one look at your naked forms tangled together on the bed and let out a low whistle.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "Looks like someone had a good night."

Osamu grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. "Get out, you pervert!"

Atsumu dodged the projectile with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I just came to make sure you two lovebirds were still alive. You weren't answering your phones."

You felt your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of your state of undress. Pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, you shot Atsumu a glare. "We're fine, thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."

Atsumu's grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, sure. I'll leave you to it. But just so you know, the walls in this place are pretty thin. You might want to keep it down next time."

With a wink and a cackle, he ducked out of the room, narrowly avoiding the second pillow Osamu launched at his head.

Osamu flopped back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the lingering tension. "Maybe next time we should go to my place," you suggested, snuggling up to Osamu's side.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or maybe next time we should be even louder, just to piss him off."

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like the way you think."

Dilf!Eren with his wife who was his college sweet-heart and he basically just worships and adores the she ground walks on, especially now that they are parents.

warnings: afab!reader + she pronouns, soft sex, domestic, oral (f receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, mentions of body changes after pregnancy

eren who always said he'd love you, back when the two of you were young and thrilled. eren who vowed to love you, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart.

eren who didn't stop loving you- if somehow it was possible, he's only just more in love with you.

eren loves the days when his parents come to collect the kids, taking them out for a fun day and leaving just the two of you alone in the house. he can't resist snuggling up behind you when you're washing dishes, his plush lips pressing against your neck, his hands groping your hips, slipping under your top, his long hair tickling your face.

"eren-" you giggle as his large hand splays over your breast, squeezing the fat as he starts to rut his hips into you, letting you feel his stiffening cock.

"come on-" he coos. "those munchkins are gone- i miss you." you know it's stupid how needy he is because you see him every day and sleep in the same bed together as you've been doing for the past twenty years but eren's like that- so drunk on love, so drunk on you.

so with a sigh that you know you're faking because your lips are stretching out in a grin you let eren lead you away to the bedroom.

eren's never gotten bored of you, and you don't think he ever will. he eats you out like a man starved, mouth tireless as he laps at your wetness and sucks your throbbing clit. he loves how your legs wrap around his head, your hair tugging him against your soaked cunt, loud moans filling the room as you rut your hips against him, using him to get off as he groans, humping the edge of the bed for sheer relief as he eats you out. he fingers you so well, long fingers curling to find that sweet spot that has you crying out, trembling hands gripping his wrist as he just continues relentlessly, pushing you to an orgasm, coaxing you to cum on his tongue. but he doesn’t stop then- he continues, moaning into your pussy with you, not stopping till you’re seeing white, till your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head, till you’re squirting all over his face.

eren who praises you, who calls you beautiful as his hands roam your body, loving what motherhood has done to you. he loves to slide his painfully hard cock into your warm tight cunt, moaning your name as his fingers lace with yours. he can go for rounds after rounds, loving to fuck your sweet little cunt, loving to play with your pretty nipples and kiss you messily, swallowing your moans. eren who’ll never get tired of seeing how beautiful his love looks when she cums on his cock with her name heavy on his tongue.

high for this — happy bday bkg !

— bakugou x kirishima x fem!reader

‘“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him.’

☆ WORD COUNT | 12.2K

☆ SYNOPSIS | Bakugou shares a birthday with weed but he’s never smoked it before. He’s also never fucked you and Kirishima at the same time before. A birthday 2-for-1 special!

☆ CONTAINS | [+18!] quirkless/college au, drug use (weed), alcohol mention, dubcon due to the previous, bi threesome (emphasis on the bi), oral for everyone, double blowjob, spit!!!, facefucking, degradation + degrading names, praise, voyeurism, size kink, frotting, a lot of cum, anal play/rimming, anal sex, piv sex, daisy chain, some roughness, creampie, cum eating, squirting, kiri + bkg interact a lot, some softdom!kiri but switchy behavior all around, kinda imperfect poly dynamics, reader referred to as “girl” + she/her + has hair long enough to be pulled back, bkg gets slutted out ~

☆ NOTES | i know — i know ! this is very late. i hope i make up for it with the fact that this is basically all filth. there are non-monogamous dynamics here that are nuanced and a little messy, possibly confusing… but it’s not really the focus, it’s mostly just a lot of sexy fun. so i hope it’s still enjoyable! happy belated bday to the great explosion murder god himself ♡

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Come on, just one hit won’t kill you.”

White smoke curls up around your lips like tantalizing little vines, snaking through the air until it dissipates into the growing fog in your living room. You’re leaned in close on the couch, joint perched between your fingers and mischief mixing with the hazy look on your face.

Bakugou scoffs at you, but it’s softened by the few too many drinks you and his friends had pushed on him earlier in the night. And his ever-growing affection for you.

“Oh don’t pressure him,” Kirishima pipes up from behind the couch, big hand coming down on Bakugou’s shoulder and squeezing, “he’s the birthday boy, he can do what he wants.”

You pout up at the redhead. “That’s exactly why he should hit it.”

Normally, Bakugou would snap at you to stop fuckin’ talkin’ about him like he’s not here, something you both have become far too comfortable doing, but his sharp tongue seems to smooth out a bit when he’s alone with the two of you. Plus, he’s in a good mood. 

The day was… great, to say the least. Not too much of a fuss. Just drinks at a low-key bar nearby, and gifts that weren’t extravagant enough to make Bakugou feel awkward. And you and Kirishima had helped get him out of there before Kaminari and Mina could corral everyone into hitting up a strip club, or whatever other ridiculous shit their drunk minds could think up. Honestly, his birthday had been perfect. Not that he’d tell you both that. But he knows he doesn’t need to.

You rise up on your knees, bringing the joint to Kirishima’s lips to let him puff at it. You’re both crowded around him, Kiri’s broad chest brushing against the back of his head, and your cleavage so close to his cheek that he could turn his face and be buried in it. He watches you in his peripheral, tits bouncing lightly as you giggle when Kiri coughs and retreats towards the kitchen for water. When you lower back down into the couch, you’re giving him a knowing look, and he fights the urge to reach out and squish your cheeks in his hand.

You infuriate him, in your own awful, annoying, endearing way — you always have, ever since Kirishima first brought you into their lives. Somehow that has led him here, unimaginably comfortable splayed out on this couch in yours and Kirishima’s shared apartment – an apartment he, admittedly, spends more time in than his own.

Leaning forward over the coffee table to tap the ash off the joint, you continue your devious nagging. “You share a birthday with weed and you’ve never even tried it. It’s unnatural.”

“Weed does not have a fuckin’ birthday,” he grunts, watching your glossy lips wrap around the thin stick once more. “And Kirishima’s hair is unnatural, you don’t seem to give a shit about that.”

You press on, ignoring the quip. “Uhh weed does have a birthday. And you’re twins. Happy birthday to you both.”

Bakugou snorts, waves away the smoke that swirls up between you, “That shit’s makin’ you sound even dumber than usual.”

“Well it’s making you look less ugly than usual.”

“Ugly, huh? Guess weed turns you into a dummy and a liar.”

Chips and water bottles plop down on the coffee table, interrupting your playful squabbling as Kirishima re-enters the room.

“You don’t gotta do it if you’re scared, bro. I get it, I was super nervous when I first smoked.”

Bakugou scowls over at his friend where he’s settling in on the other side of him. “‘M not scared.”

“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him. 

The unspoken suggestion isn’t entirely out of left field. The nature of your triangular relationship is… confusing. More than platonic, less than romantically committed — at least where Bakugou is concerned. But what isn’t confusing is the fact that he already knows both of your bodies intimately, and you his. (Kirishima even more so than you.) 

But he hasn’t known them both at the same time — a fact that has been looming over all three of you for months now.

Apparently you and Kiri have decided that today would be the day. A birthday present for the hot-head you’ve absorbed into your relationship. 

Or maybe you were absorbed into his and Kirishima’s? 

The details are muddled static in Bakugou’s brain, his nerves making his mind race as you both watch him expectantly.

“Bro, you really don’t have to if you don’t—“

He’s cut off by an exasperated growl. “If I hit it, will you both shut up?”

Kiri grins, and the corners of your mouth twitch up, bringing the the joint back into view.

He plucks it from your hand, grumbling that he can do it himself as he brings the papery tip to his lips. Kirishima’s good-natured warnings about not hitting it too hard fall on deaf ears as Bakugou breathes in deep… and immediately sputters a cough into the crook of his arm. You snort and take the offending stick back, Kiri opening a water bottle and handing it over with mumbles of something just a bit nicer than “I told ya so”.

When the coughing fit dies down, there’s a heaviness settled over him, like invisible weights strapped to each of his limbs. His chest burns, and his head is foggy, and Bakugou isn’t sure he really likes the feeling — but then Kiri’s thigh presses against his as he relaxes further into the couch, and you run your hand over his bicep while you ask if he’s ok, and every little touch makes his whole body tingle. And Bakugou… finally gets why people like this shit.

You giggle, and he realizes he’s said that last bit out loud. “See, feels nice, right?”

Time seems to start dragging on a bit slower as the high really settles into his bones, and he feels somehow both profoundly relaxed, and buzzing right down to his nerve-endings all at once. You continue puffing away at the joint, absentmindedly playing with Bakugou’s hair as Kiri puts something on the tv before turning and gesturing for you to pass the weed over. Shaking your head at your boyfriend, you instead beckon him towards you with a crook of your finger. A saucy little “c’mere…” reeling him in closer as you take another big drag from the joint.

The both of you lean over the blonde’s lap, faces coming together just inches in front of his. Bakugou is hyper-focused on the sliver of space between your lips — the way yours purse to blow a slow stream of milky smoke, and Kiri’s fall open to accept your gift. So close, a simple swipe of tongue could connect you. It’s an intimate exchange, thick with a sensuality that Bakugou swears is coating his throat and making it hard to swallow. 

It feels like ages before the two of you finally pull away, and his eyes follow Kirishima as he settles back on his right. Red brows raise at him curiously, chest puffing out as he inhales the smoke a bit deeper. Bakugou is staring, he knows he is. He can’t help it. His friend has always been easy on the eyes — pretty, even. Although, if he ever told him that, he knows he’d chuckle nervously and deny it. So he just stares silently, and thinks it. But Kirishima has an uncanny way of reading his thoughts, better than anyone else in his life.

And this time is no different, amusement pulling up the corners of Kiri’s mouth, boldness guiding his calloused hand to the back of the blonde’s neck as he leans in. There’s a split second of confusion, Bakugou’s mind wading through the molasses of his high to try and catch up with what’s going on, but then Kiri is blowing the smoke still in his lungs right into the space between his lips.

From you, to Kirishima, to him. A link of breaths, an unconventional chain made up of musky smoke and sighs and things unspoken. It tastes nice on Bakugou’s tongue. It doesn’t burn his chest like his first hit did. It’s been cooled in the exchange, the harsh bite of it taken away with each pass from mouth to mouth, leaving him with something light and comfortable and warm.

Bakugou wonders if he deserves that.

Kirishima’s lips brush softly against his. Silent reassurance that he does.

And then, as things tend to do when you’re high and horny, one thing simply leads to another. It’s a whirlwind of kisses and wandering hands, and then the kisses become deeper, bleeding into each other, and the hands wander further, their touch melting together. And Bakugou ends up turned around to face you with Kirishima at his back.

Your tongue in his mouth is familiar, and yet entirely new, and in this state the contrast between kissing you and his best friend becomes even more obvious. While the man behind him feels rugged against his skin, he always kisses gingerly at first, maneuvering slowly, tenderly, like he’s savoring it. Like he’s handling something delicate and skittish. 

You, on the other hand, have lips like velvet, skin supple and smooth where he cradles your face. But you suck harshly and nip at him, pull at his bottom lip with your teeth and smile devilishly when he hisses. 

Where Kirishima is hard, you’re soft – and where you’re rough, he’s gentle. 

You’re halfway onto Bakugou’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and raised up on your knees so he has to tilt his head up to you. Holding his face in your hands, you lick eagerly into his mouth, suck at his tongue when you feel it slide against yours. That pulls a soft groan from his chest, and his hips grind just a bit against your thigh, giving you a preview of his desire in the form of a poke.

One of your hands trails down the side of his neck, over the muscular slope of his chest and the firm valley of his stomach until it’s found its target on the inside of his thigh. Bakugou can’t help but moan when you press your palm into his cock where it’s currently throbbing against him, trapped uncomfortably in the leg of his jeans. 

“So hard already,” you murmur against Bakugou’s mouth as you rub your hand up and down his length. 

“He’s been hard since we started smoking,” Kiri chimes in between wet kisses to his neck.

Bakugou glares back with a lighthearted huff. “Always starin’ at my fuckin’ dick, Red.”

A low chuckle. “Yeah? Am I in trouble?”

“You fuckin’— agh!”

Kirishima bites down on his shoulder, just hard enough to make the blonde’s mouth fall open, and you seize your chance to swallow the sound.

It would be embarrassing, how well the pair of you are currently playing Bakugou like a tuned-up instrument, but the weed has his mind so fogged that all he can feel is the pleasurable heat simmering in his veins. The plushness of your skin in his palms as he runs them over your waist, and the firmness of his childhood friend’s well-built body against his back, and both of your hands and mouths all over him all at once — it’s more than he can handle. So he just lets himself lean further into Kirishima’s familiar hold and watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you pull his shirt over his head and start working his jeans down his legs.

“Gonna let us take care of you, right, birthday boy?” Your voice is a siren song in his ear, gravelly from the smoke you’d inhaled, pitched down with temptation. The snarky comment you’d usually receive in return is lost to a pleasured little nnghh when you lower yourself down and press your warm mouth to his cock through his briefs, flick your tongue out to taste the growing wet spot on the fabric. Then you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband, watching gleefully when you free the rigid length from its confines and it bobs up to hit his toned stomach with a slap. 

All the while Kirishima’s calloused hands explore, tender in their travels, ghosting over scars and squeezing lovingly at the spots that make him crazy (his waist, his pecs, the inner part of his thighs). He hooks his chin over the blonde’s shoulder and licks his lips hungrily at the sight of his cock, which is jumping in frustration as you kiss teasingly over his thighs. 

It’s flushed a heated pink at the tip and oozing dews of precum that are simply too pretty to ignore, so Kiri dips his finger in it, spreads the sticky substance around the head to make it shine before raising his hand back up and watching a thick, clear thread stretch before snapping. 

“Bein’ so good for us,” Kiri murmurs under his breath, a secret for them to share, and brings his finger to his own mouth to taste the salty arousal on it. He rubs the mix of saliva and pre over Bakugou’s nipple, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. “Let us know if this is too much, ok?” 

And it is too much, but not in a way that’s unpleasant. So Bakugou responds with only a shuddered breath and his head falling back on the redhead’s shoulder, heavy with his high and the creeping heat of pleasure as you finally drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. He lets the bigger man turn his face to the side with a gentle hand, slots his mouth with his in a slow, hungry kiss.

He’s pulsing against your tongue, impossibly hard and aching for the feel of your mouth, and still you take your time. Licking coyly around the head, letting it leak right onto your tastebuds. Bakugou finally finds his voice again to curse down at you, and it comes out hoarse, whinier than you’ve ever heard him. 

“Stop bein’ such a damn cock tease.”

You chuckle, but relent, abandoning your teasing to finally sink your lips down on him. It lights Bakugou on fire, his toes curling and nails digging into Kiri’s forearms where they’re wrapped around his torso. So sensitive. You bob your head up and down slowly at first, then faster, slurping and sucking until you’ve gotten it nice and sloppy – which is when Kiri’s hands come to gather your hair out of your face, holding it all back in one fist and using the other to grip Bakugou’s dick tightly, stroke him right into your mouth. 

You moan approvingly at the addition of your boyfriend’s hand, a sweet little mmnnn that rings out from your throat and vibrates down Bakugou’s length right to his very core. The sound joins the noisy schlickschlick of Kirishima pumping his hand up and down, the movements practiced and effortless as he grips and twists, squeezing more and more precum from the tip for you to eagerly swallow. You stick your tongue out, let Kiri slap the head against it with a cheeky smile spreading your lips and exposing your teeth, far too pleased with the way Bakugou is trying his best to stifle his own moans and keep his hips from rolling.

Wrapping your lips back around the thick cock being jerked off in your face, you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, making your shared victim curse brokenly. You and Kiri exchange a conspiratory look, and then he’s grinning sleepily down at you.

“How’s his cock taste, pretty girl?”

Your lashes flutter and you make a sound that could be “so good” if it wasn’t completely muffled by skin, refusing to pop it back out of your mouth for even a moment to answer. Your boyfriend chuckles, feeling his own cock stir at watching the enthusiastic way in which you suck someone else’s – but his own needs can wait.

“Need some help down there?”

An earnest nod from you, and then Kirishima is shifting carefully from behind the near boneless body in front of him, sinking down onto his knees beside you to properly assist in servicing the birthday boy.

You continue sucking while keeping your gaze on Kiri, now close enough that you can make out the inky dilation of his pupils, the lustful flush on his cheeks. And he watches you, enamored, hypnotized by your fuck-me eyes and the way your lips pout and your cheeks hollow — his sweet little girlfriend with a nasty little mouth. 

“Y’look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he muses, and saliva pools in his own when you hum your appreciation and trace your lips down the side of Bakugou’s shaft, giving him access to the other side. He leans in, licks up a pulsating vein with a groan. The taste is distinctly Bakugou, heady and musky and manly. And it’s distinctly you, sweet like those drinks you order, light like your flavored gloss. He goes back for another taste, and then your tongues are dancing in unison over Bakugou’s dick.

“Jesus fuck, that’s so— fuckin’ good—“ Bakugou’s words are clipped and strained as you both slather his dick with your spit. Up and down, up and down the length of him, until you’re meeting at the top and tangling together in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss around the head.

It’s messy, uncoordinated, drool coating both of your lips and smearing across chins and cheeks. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the air as you make out with a dick wedged between you. It’s a sight Bakugou had never known he needed to see, but now he’s watching intently, jaw slack and lids heavy, wanting to burn the image into his memory. If his brain wasn’t so scrambled he’d pull out his phone and hit record, keep the moment in his pocket for him to fuck his fist to later.

Wrapped up in the kiss, you both pull away, your hand finding the blonde’s cock to stroke it as you continue exploring Kiri’s mouth. The twist and pull of your palm is slippery, but not slippery enough, so you break the kiss and stick your tongue out. And Kirishima understands exactly what you want, making a show of placing his big hands on either side of your face and tilting it up for him, pressing his lips together and letting spit flow freely down onto your waiting tongue. You turn with a glint in your eye, letting his saliva mix with your own behind your lips before spitting it all out to coat Bakugou’s dick.

A thought flits through his mind about the three-way hit from earlier, but it fizzles out as soon as you suck him sloppily back into your mouth. “Awh, fuck–” 

And then Kiri’s tongue is lapping at his balls, and Bakugou’s head sinks back on the couch cushions. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“

He feels like jelly, melting right into both of your hungry mouths. Nothing but the sensation of slick lips and warm tongues, and silky spit rolling down his balls and seeping between his thighs. You and Kiri are switching back and forth, sharing him between you like it’s an everyday couple’s activity, one you’re both especially passionate about doing together. It’s insane — you’re both insane, hell-bent on turning him into a puddle right there on your living room couch.

And Bakugou is a puddle, splayed out on the cushions, panting with his head thrown back and his arms crossed over his face, just lost in it. Until Kirishima suddenly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh.

“Agh—!”

Bakugou’s hips jerk involuntarily at the bite, ramming his cock up into your throat as his gaze is forced back to you both kneeled before him. The sound of you gagging stirs Kiri on, and he places a big hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place before delivering another, harsher bite to his friend’s thigh. Another buck of the blonde’s hips and your eyes begin to water. But you look up at him, and through the sparkle of your wet lashes is an expression completely glazed over with lust.

Bakugou sneers down at you, suddenly stirred on just like Kiri. “Y’like that shit?” You don’t have to respond (not that you can, with his girth filling out your mouth), he knows very well how much you do. “Here, take it then.”

And then there are two more hands holding you down, steady against the back of your head to make sure you can’t move away as Bakugou rolls his hips up towards your face. 

“Stick your tongue out, like that, yeah–” 

You obey, and he grunts his approval as he fucks your mouth like it’s nothing more than a warm, wet toy. It’s slow, lazy, but hard and invasive, cock dragging back and forth along your tongue, pumping precum so deep it feels like you might choke on it. Your throat spasms and aches as it takes the sudden beating from his cock head prodding at it, a copious amount of drool filling your mouth as your body’s natural attempt at lubricating. It bubbles around your lips, drips down in thick globs onto his lap. 

And that’s what Bakugou wanted, really, the mess – to see the way tears roll down your cheeks and spit smears on your lips, the way you seem to go perfectly dumb for his dick. It’s cute, honestly, and he can’t help but tell you so, filth tumbling from his mouth as he uses yours to get off.

“So fuckin’ cute,” he says between ragged breaths, “so cute when you’re chokin’ on me. Fuck, yeah, keep that mouth open–”

You’re doing your best to breathe through your nose, taking the rough treatment while trying not to drown in your own spit, when Bakugou suddenly stills his hips and gives your head a hard push down.

“All the way down, like a good little slut,” he grunts, angling his hips up to try and invade your esophagus, feel how tight it is around his aching cock. There’s still so much of him your mouth can’t fit, and you gag hard, instinctually trying to pull off. But you’re met with the resistance of not two, but three strong hands.

Kirishima pushes gently, but firmly, at the back of your neck, coaxing you to take his best friend’s cock further down your throat with coos of encouragement. “There ya go baby,” his voice is husky and dark in your ear, eyes blown and pink-tinged as he watches more of Bakugou’s length disappear past your swollen lips, “be a good girl and swallow that dick.” 

And then something in your throat gives, and your eyes roll back in your head as your lips finally meet a sticky pelvis, nose nuzzling into a dewy nest of dirty-blonde pubes. 

“Ugh– there it is, fuck yeah–” Bakugou groans, deep and guttural as he pumps shallowly up into your throat, the visible bulge in your neck making Kirishima echo him with a lewd groan of his own. The only sounds you can muster are gurgles – besides the obscene wet gluckgluckglucks of your throat being relentlessly fucked, but you can hardly claim that you are the one making those sounds ring out.

You’re finally set free, hands releasing you to shoot back up and gasp for air. You cough and sputter, a hazy smile curling your wet lips up once you’ve caught your breath, and you peer up at Bakugou, who returns your smile with a satisfied smirk of his own. But the cocky expression is quickly wiped off his face when Kiri takes him in his hand and replaces your throat with his own, descending on him with an ease that makes the blonde’s face contort.

Crawling up onto the couch, you smooth your hand down Bakugou’s chest. He looks positively ravaged; Lips reddened from where he keeps pulling them between his teeth, face and chest flushed pink and shining with a light sheen of sweat, honeyed hair mussed by his hands continuously running through it. And his eyes, usually piercing and fiery, have lost their heat. They’re glazed over, glowing with his high and swimming with pleasure.

He’s gorgeous like this, you think, picturesque in his wreckage, and you can’t look away — not when his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, not when his hands reach out and tangle in red locs, not when his gaze finally lifts back to you and he tilts his chin up to silently ask for a kiss. You give it to him, of course — it is his birthday, after all — but then you can’t help but nose against his cheek and tease him just a bit.

“And to think, you weren’t gonna smoke with us.”

He grits his teeth into a semblance of a smile, lids heavy as he looks up at you through thick, blonde lashes. “I like ya better with my—hahh— my cock in your throat. Talk a lot less that way.” Another moan seeps from between his lips, eyes darting to watch Kirishima suck at his balls before returning to you. He reaches out, fists impatiently at the hem of your top. “Take this shit off an’ come sit on my face.”

There’s a slick pop and then Kiri is rising to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you both a toothy grin. He suggests you all move into the bedroom, squeezing the obvious outline of his hard cock in his pants as he does so, and you’re being scooped up into Bakugou’s strong arms before you can reply.

He pads down the hallway with your legs hugged around his tapered waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. Hands grope roughly at your ass as he carries you easily — which is surprising only because he’s not looking where he’s going, too preoccupied with tasting himself on your tongue.

You’re deposited onto the bed with an oomph, bouncing against the mattress where you’re unceremoniously thrown. You look up to see Bakugou completely naked, cut body glistening in the dim light and cock bobbing heavy between his legs. He’s staring back down at you hungrily, like an animal that’s caught its prey, that sharp look in his carmine eyes back out to play – and you’re suddenly reminded of the incessant throbbing between your legs. 

“I said,” he grips the buttons of your pants, pulls them roughly down your legs as if their presence offends him, “take this shit off.”

You’re stripped and straddling the birthday boy’s face before Kirishima is even back in the room. And when he does return he’s got what’s left of the joint re-lit and held between his lips, water and towels cradled in his arms. He stops in his tracks when he sees the position you two are in; You, with your thighs encasing Bakugou’s head, bent forward and draped over him so your face is right over that pretty cock. And Bakugou, splayed out underneath you, one leg bent and propped up, dick still shining with the evidence of the treatment it had gotten earlier. It’s throbbing and jumping as you grind down onto his face, your lips formed into a cute little ‘o’ as he slurps loudly, shamelessly at your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open when you hear the light crackle of Kiri puffing on the joint, finding him leaned against the door jam, so big he fills up the doorway and his hair brushes against the top of the frame. He’s watching, ruby eyes glittering, taking another lazy drag and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. His sexiness is effortless, easy, like it's built right into that sturdy foundation of his – and the sight of him enjoying the sight of you goes straight to your pussy, sends a wave of arousal leaking from your slit and right onto Bakugou’s lips.

You mewl, and Kiri’s eyes wander down your connected bodies, palming at his cock through his pants as he takes you both in. “How’s he doin’, baby girl?”

“Mmnn… good. But he’s so impatient.”

A heavy hand comes down on your ass, squeezing the sting away, and a disapproving grunt vibrates against your clit. Much like you, Bakugou won’t unlatch from you to say what he wants – instead, he’ll scrunch his face up and let your core absorb his words. You imagine it’s something like “shut the hell up” or “it’s my birthday, you fucks” and you let out a snicker, which unravels into a squeak when you get another swat to your ass.

You straighten up and reach out to Kiri, wanting him closer. And he comes easily, tapping out the joint and setting down what he’d brought along, pulling his shirt over his head. He kneels on the bed, and dips his face down to drink up the little sounds spilling from your mouth.

Your fingers trail down the hard ridges of Kiri’s chest as the tip of Bakugou’s tongue trails up your slit. You keep feeling him, feeling the way his broad chest expands with each breath, the way his toned stomach tenses under your touch. He’s so big, muscular in a way that’s so different from the body underneath you; Where Bakugou is cut and rigid, Kirishima is thick, almost soft, the kind of muscle you can sink your fingers into. And you do, squeezing at him, earning happy little sighs breathed onto your mouth, your jaw, the side of your neck.

You’re kissing each other slowly, deeply, and the moment is sweet, yet so nasty — punctuated by the wet sounds of a tongue swirling around your clit. 

Kirishima curses when your hand finally presses against his cock, so hot with neglect that you can feel the warmth through the thick fabric of his pants. You smile against his mouth. “You like watching us, Red?”

His nose nuzzles against yours, panting as you rub harder into him. “Shit… yeah, I do.” A deep, shuddering breath. “A lot.”

“You like sucking dick a lot, too.”

It’s not a question, but Kiri bites at his lip and answers anyway.

“Yeah, I do.” 

You whine, heat crackling in your belly from both the admittance, and the harsh suck to your clit. Kiri adds on with a chuckle, “might like watching you do it more, though.”

Your fingers hook into his waistband and pull his hips forward. “Wanna watch me suck yours now?”

“Thought we were taking care of the birthday boy.”

You bat your lashes, and Kiri truly wants nothing more than to see your eyes water again. 

“I can take care of you both at the same time.”

“Fuck…”

He’s back off the bed and pushing his pants down his thighs without any further discussion, cock bouncing and bending under its own weight as he moves to position himself between Bakugou’s legs. There’s a surprised mmph from underneath you when his knees are pushed open wider to accommodate the larger man, but it tapers off into a low groan when he feels the heaviness of Kirishima’s hard cock slapping down onto his own.

Bending forward at the waist, you grip Kiri’s cock in your hand, so thick that your fingers struggle to connect around its girth, throbbing so hard it seems to grow even bigger in your hold. He watches you with dark eyes as you drag your tongue up the thick vein on the underside, breathes a little “so pretty” when you look back up at him. 

You flick your tongue teasingly at the tip and pull back so the sticky fluid of his arousal connects you for just a moment, before you wrap your lips around it to suck the rest off. He’s salty, musky, hot and heavy — adding to the growing cocktail of sin filling your senses and making your head spin.

You’re quick to try taking him all the way in your mouth, egged on by your own arousal, and gag hard when he hits the back of your throat. Kiri groans, tucking your hair out of your face gently as he keeps himself from snapping his hips forward and forcing his cock all the way in, despite how he knows you wouldn’t mind – despite how badly he wants to. Instead he watches you strain to fit him in your mouth, the way your lips stretch around him and your cheeks fill out with his girth. It’s almost better than forcing it – watching you work so hard to do it yourself. 

You bob and slurp, use your hand to stimulate what won’t fit in your mouth. And more and more drool collects around his cock, pools in your fist and drips slowly down onto Bakugou’s dick underneath it. 

“Ohhh shit, yeah–” the man above you pants, strokes sweetly at your cheek, “get it nice an’ wet…”

Holding him tightly in your fist, you dip your head down to lick up the spit that’s landed on the blonde’s milky skin, earning a desperate roll of his narrow hips. You wrap your lips around him next, let the redhead jerk his cock over your face while he watches – the way you know he loves to do – before switching back. You keep working like that, going back and forth from cock to cock, sucking Bakugou eagerly into your mouth and then letting Kiri guide you back with a gentle hold on your chin.

All the while, you’re giving Bakugou a view to rival the double blowjob – your cunt spread and bent over in his face, skin so wet and soft it’s like satin, pretty hole leaking endlessly down onto his tongue. He’s shameless, the way he digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, uses rough thumbs to pull your pussy lips apart before spitting right into it. He flattens his tongue, catches the drip and tastes you from clit to slit, then buries it in that little hole, spearing you on it like a man out to kill. You squeak, try to wriggle away, but he hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you back down with a growl of “don’t you fuckin’ move” before diving back in.

The way he fucks you on his tongue is for him, really, not for you – but even so, the way the muscle stretches you out, swirls and flicks inside you as it tries desperately to push deeper, to taste deeper, it feels so nasty. So good. You arch your back, moan around Kiri’s cock about how good his tongue feels, and Bakugou just smirks against your cunt. Pleased with himself. He knows it’s fuckin’ good — he knows how to make you squirm.

He runs a thumb through your folds, wets it with the mixture of your slick and his spit, before circling it into your clit. It’s swollen, throbbing under the pad of his thumb, and your walls tighten, gush more bittersweet juice for him to drink up.

Kiri’s dick pops out of your mouth as you’re overtaken by the sudden swell of pleasure, and you cry out a shrill warning.

“Fuckfuck, Katsuki, if you keep doing that–”

“Do it,” he says, gruff and demanding, “fuckin’ give it to me.”

So Kirishima takes over in your mission of taking care of them both — presses his sticky cock up against Bakugou’s and fists them both together to the sight of you losing yourself. You’re bracing yourself with both hands on Bakugou’s stomach, tits pushed together so pretty between your arms, eyes rolling shut and mouth falling open on a moan. 

Kirishima is slack-jawed as he watches you buck and grind, fucking yourself back on his friend’s tongue. So beautiful chasing your own high. His fist is slipping quickly over both their cocks, squeezing them together tightly, rutting his hips and sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both. 

“Fuck, Ei, s-slow the fuck down” — is what Bakugou tries to say, but it comes out garbled, slurred into your skin. He’s so sensitive, and everything is so wet. Your pussy dripping, his chin slippery, his dick and Kirishima’s sliding over each other and squelching lewdly. And you’re all in his senses, coating his tongue, filling his every breath, singing like an angel as you tell him you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum right on his face —

So his hips jerk, and his voice strains in his throat, and he shoots his load hard, all up his stomach and onto his chest and between Kiri’s fingers. It just keeps coming, makes a mess of his torso and collects in Kirishima’s hand, coats both their cocks in milky white that he keeps pumping up and down the length of them.

And the sight is so messy, so filthy, both cocks sliding against each other, frothing with a gooey mixture of pre, spit, and cum. It makes that swelling wave of heat in your core grow bigger, bigger still — and Kirishima sees it on your face, whines as he overstimulates Bakugou and brings himself closer to the edge, encouraging you to “let it go, baby— there ya go, cum right on his tongue—” 

And then the wave is suddenly crashing, white-hot and roaring in your ears. 

You’re trembling, crying out, grinding down on Bakugou’s tongue, which he now has outstretched for you, hands digging desperately into your hips as he bucks into Kirishima’s fist – still, somehow, able to keep his composure enough to help you ride out your orgasm. Lightning is shooting up his spine, making him twitch and moan, but your release washing over his tongue may as well be the god damn elixir of life. He can see your pussy clenching, see it leaking liquid gold right onto his face, and it tastes like paradise in his mouth. He’s focused on slurping it up, making you scream and gyrate as pleasure wracks your body like something violent and unforgiving.

And, like some sort of carnal chemical reaction, Kiri grabs hold of your face, moans a strained “cumming— oh shit i’m cumming—!” into your mouth as he follows you both over the edge. He bucks once, twice in his fist and then his balls are tightening where they’re sliding against the other man’s, and he’s spilling over, thick and hot into his hand. 

It mixes with Bakugou’s cum, almost indiscernible from it as ropes shoot up and land on his stomach. But it’s thicker, heavier, it doesn’t reach all the way up to his collarbones. And there’s more of it, so much more that it splatters the smaller man with white, pools in the deep grooves of his abs and sticks there.

You’re all panting hard when you finally roll over and collapse into the sheets. It’s hot, stiflingly so, sweat collecting in the crease of your thighs – or is that your own cum? 

The boys breathe deep next to you, Kirishima sat on his knees, Bakugou with his arms up over his face. It’s silent for a moment, besides the sounds of you all gasping, and the hammering in your own chest.

You let your head roll to the side, checking that your partners are still alive, and are met with the sight of Bakugou’s torso absolutely painted with white. 

A stunned exhale. “Holy shit…”

Kiri’s eyes slide to you, dazed. “You ok?”

“Yeah, that is just… so much cum. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much cum before. It’s like, cartoonish.”

There’s a choking sound – a snort – and then Bakugou is laughing, big and boisterous, mouth wide and teeth bared. It fills the room like fireworks, so bright it lights up yours and Kiri’s faces too. 

“Stop laughing,” Kirishima chuckles, clean hand forming a cup by Bakugou’s side to catch the cum currently sliding down it, “it’s gonna get on the sheets.”

“Well then gimme a fuckin’ towel, dumbass.”

The smell of sex and smoke hangs heavy in the air. It sticks to your skin, makes you feel tacky as you shift in the bedsheets. You reach out to take the joint (well, the burnt nub that’s left) from between Kiri’s fingers, puffing on it gingerly before blowing some into Bakugou’s mouth. He’s decided he likes it better that way – straight from your or Kirishima’s lungs.

“Doesn’t burn so damn much,” he’d grumbled when he’d asked you to do it for him. You’d rolled your eyes, but leaned in to give him some of your breath anyways. 

You’re all still half naked, you in one of Kiri’s t-shirts and the boys both in briefs. Laid out on soiled sheets as a thin haze fills the room, basking in the humid afterglow of your orgasms. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the three of you together, but you feel so profoundly comfortable that you find yourself sighing deeply and smiling up towards the ceiling. 

“What?” Bakugou eyes you from where he lies beside you, noticing the little quirk of your lips – which he often does, notices your little tells.

“Nothing, just high. And happy.” You roll onto your side, passing the joint back to Kiri as you prop your head up in your hand, “is that a crime?”

“The first one is in a lot of places, yeah. Maybe I’ll call the cops on ya. Turn your ass in.”

You push playfully at Bakugou’s chest, and he catches your wrist in his hand with a wolfish grin, holding you there against him. 

You jut your chin out at him defiantly. “Eiji’ll bail me out.”

Bakugou glances down to where the redhead is laid across the foot of the bed, his head resting on the blonde’s thigh with a hand behind his neck. Your gaze follows when your boyfriend stays silent for a beat too long, mouth falling open with an incredulous call of “Babe?” 

Kirishima blows smoke up into the air with a sigh, drags out his words like they’re hard to say. “Yeah, I would.”

“Tch. So fuckin’ soft for this brat.”

Leaning your weight on Bakugou’s chest, you lift yourself up over him to gloat – like a brat. “Jealousy’s really ugly on you, Kats–”

The room blurs as he flips you over, appearing on top of you in a second with a snarl. You kick your legs as he slots himself between them, giggling and beating at his chest with your fists – which he intercepts easily, gathering your wrists in one hand to pin over your head. 

“Y’talk a lotta shit for someone so weak.”

Fingers dig roughly into your sides, making you yelp and squirm against his weight, which is pressed down onto you, keeping you firmly in place. “Go ahead, brat – talk your shit.” He forces more gasps of laughter from you with a twisted grin, eyes on fire. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you, speak up!”

“Eiji, help me!”

And then, magically, the weight is lifted off of you. 

In a flash, Bakugou is laid out on his back, hands pinned by his head, held in place by two larger ones. He looks a lot like you just did, fighting and huffing – except he’s actually giving his captor some hell, Kirishima flexing and gritting his teeth as he holds him down on the bed.

It’s lighthearted, grunted laughter slipping out between heavy breaths. But it’s also intense, in the way two men wrestling just inherently is.

Locking limbs and bulging muscles, so much power packed into each strained movement and kept from exploding outward only by the strength of the other. Like two stags connected by twisted antlers, they’re opposing forces keeping them firmly in place. It gives you the impression that if you were to be wedged in between them, they’d crush you. And that… excites you.

Bakugou hooks his legs around Kiri’s waist with a biting smile, muscles tensing as he tries to twist and buck him off – and the bigger man falters, almost flips over, but slams the blonde back down with a smile of his own.

“Get off me you fuckin’ brute!”

A breathless laugh from Kirishima, red hair shaking loose around his face. “Oh I’m a brute?”

“Yeah!” One of Bakugou’s hands slips free and he claps it around the back of Kiri’s neck, pulling him down until their foreheads are knocking together. “You are.”

And then there’s a shift, the energy suddenly heavy. No longer playful, but thick and serious. Wanton.

They’re panting, naked chests pressed together, expanding in time with each other. Bakugou huffs, his eyes flickering down to Kiri’s mouth. There’s a moment of anticipation, suspended and buzzing in the air, heating up until it starts to boil.

“All that hair dye’s gone right to your fuckin’ brain.” Bakugou’s voice is low, breath puffing against parted lips. Kirishima’s nose slides against his. “Made you a damn animal.”

“Whatever you say.”

And then they’re meeting in the middle, mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Kiri’s face pressing down, Bakugou’s chin lifting to chase after that pressure. The redhead’s tongue darts out, asks for entry at the seam of his partner’s lips. And the blonde gives it willingly, passionately, answering with an eager tongue of his own.

They kiss like that for a moment, hot and heavy, pushing and pulling, exploring each other’s mouths like new lovers and not like ones who have been here many times before. Their skin glistens and muscles ripple, tangled so tightly in each other that it’s almost hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. And you can only watch, feeling like you shouldn’t be — like a voyeur.

And that seems to make your whole body hot.

It’s almost like you’re watching through a screen, a slab of glass fogged over by your high and the haze of smoke, and the thick steam that is your own desire — until suddenly that screen is punctured, a hand reaching out through the fog. 

Kirishima pulls you into their orbit gently, but with a strength that makes you feel comfortable, like you can lean all the way into it and not float away. His hand cradles the side of your neck, coaxes you to come closer and kiss him. His lips are already wet and swollen, and they taste slightly different — an added sweetness you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it too long, another hand is redirecting you down, Bakugou stealing your lips away.

Wet sounds and pleasured sighs trickle through the air, you and Bakugou locked together hungrily as Kiri litters kisses down the smaller man’s chest. He takes his time running his tongue over the skin, sucking at it, tasting the sweat there — gratuitously, selfishly, knowing Bakugou won’t hurry him along like he usually does. Not with you tugging at this scalp and moaning into his mouth.

Kirishima is not a selfish lover, not by any means, but he’s also not wholly an angel. So he takes what he can get when he can get it. And right now that means taking advantage of the time he has, descending slowly. Slipping Bakugou’s briefs down his legs and running his lips along the scattered freckles on the insides of his thighs and hips. He could stay just like this, ruby eyes cast up to watch you both indulge in each other, while he indulges in the body beneath him.

But then he gets a little too eager, pushing Bakugou’s legs open wide and breathing a small “fuck…” at the sight of his hole before dipping down to taste it.

Bakugou breaks the kiss, gaze dragged down by the slick feeling of a tongue between his cheeks. His mouth falls open, face feverish as his hand moves to cup his balls, kneading them softly and holding them out of the way to give Kiri better access.

Kirishima’s tongue snakes out, big and thick just like the rest of him, and runs achingly slow over the little ring of muscle. Around and around in deliberate, wet circles. Then he’s drooling down onto it just to lap it back up with a wide, flattened tongue. His eyes flicker down, taking in the wet mess he’s already made before he dips the tip in, stuffs as much of the muscle as he can into the tight hole with a hungry groan. 

It’s a different kind of intimacy, watching them like this, and it fills your face with warmth and drips down your spine. Has your hand traveling absentmindedly between your legs to satiate the ache that’s returned there. The way Bakugou’s head falls back on the mattress, the way Kiri looks up at him with eyes that are both soft and yet sharply calculating — it’s different. You’ve never seen them like this, the way they were together far before you were ever in the mix, at least not at this level of vulnerability. And maybe it should make you feel jealous, or unsure of your place, but, truthfully, all you feel is a burning, unmitigated need.

You almost forget that you’re even there — physically there — until a big hand is cupping one of your tits, an arm hooking behind your back and pulling you close again. Propped up now on his elbow, Bakugou twists his body to peck at the side of your breast and squeeze the other in his palm. He laves his tongue over it, scrapes his teeth along it with a pant before sucking a bruise into the skin. His face is hot where it buries into you, his breath even hotter where it huffs out against the new, wet bloom of red. He looks up at you through heavy lids, brows pinching as Kiri licks sloppily at his fingers and pushes two in.

“Just gonna watch, y’little perv?”

You raise your brows at him, swipe your tongue over your lips. “Maybe– unless you’d like me to do something else.”

He nods down, towards where his cock sits oozing fresh precum onto his abdomen. “Come sit on it.”

You want to, your body’s aching for it, walls clenching at the thought of it stretching you out. You can imagine distinctly how it fills you, how it hits certain spots so perfectly. The memories alone making your stomach tight with need. But you narrow your eyes anyways and say, “that’s a funny way to ask.”

He smiles sleepily, and his eyes rove down your body — and Bakugou realizes, that he’s the weak one. Weak from the weed, weak from the way Kiri works him open, weak from the sight of your cunt wrapping so pretty around your fingers. But, somehow, in this moment, he’s comfortable in that weakness.

So he sucks at his teeth, closes his eyes for a moment before looking back up to you.

“I need you. Fuck– need’a feel your pussy on me.”

The please sits heavy in his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but you hear it nonetheless. 

You press forward, slot your mouth with his and let him wrap his arms around you to pull you onto him. Swinging your leg over his body, you come to rest atop him, hovering your hips over his just so until he’s growling in frustration and pulling you closer. Closer, he wants you closer – wants you both so much fuckin’ closer. So he hugs you against his sweat-dampened chest with strong arms, opens his knees wider and thrusts up to rub himself against you. 

The hot length of him sliding through your folds makes you gasp, and your body reacts on its own to grind back down on it. That’s all it takes to get it slippery, your pussy so wet already, leaking slick onto his skin and making it shine. 

With three fingers now stuffed knuckle-deep in Bakugou’s hole, Kirishima is getting impatient. His cock is so hard again that it hurts, throbbing in anticipation of feeling that elastic tightness currently gripping around his fingers. And now he’s watching you roll your hips back, seeing the evidence of how wet you are right there on the underside of Bakugou’s cock every time you roll them forward again. He’s squeezing his own cock at the sight, pushing his briefs down to free it so he can spit down on it.

You keep working yourself up, teasing yourself with slow grinds, letting the ridges of Bakugou’s hard cock stimulate your sensitive clit. His lips ghost against your jaw, teeth nipping lightly. “You want it?” He asks, breathy, just as worked up as you are. “Want my dick inside you?”

“Yes,” you feel him pant against your cheek, his cock pulse against your sex, “I want it so bad.”

“You want it so bad, put it inside you, then.”

Eagerly, you reach back behind you, wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock and swipe it through your folds once, twice, before slotting the tip at your entrance. Then, finally, you sink down.

There’s a resounding curse as your pussy starts to swallow Bakugou’s cock. 

From you, as you’re slowly filled to the brim with heat, his cock rigid and heavy as it makes room for itself inside you, the ache in your core finally soothed by the heady feeling of being completely full. 

From Bakugou, as your walls start to envelop him, quivering and squeezing around him, so snug and warm and wet that he can feel your arousal coating him and rolling down his balls. 

And from Kirishima, as he watches it all happen, sees the way you open up so eagerly for cock, the way your cunt gushes around it, the intrusion pushing your juices right out. The way it splits open and sucks in inch after inch after inch, until his cock has disappeared completely inside of you. 

Once you’re sitting all the way down, ass meeting skin, your clit resting against blonde curls, Kiri decides he can’t wait any longer.

You’re tipped forward as Bakugou’s legs are pushed open and back, and then you feel his breath hitch beneath you when Kiri’s dick begins to sink into him. 

“Oh— fuck—!” His jaw goes slack, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as he’s stuffed completely and utterly full of Kiri’s cock. It’s huge, a fact you know well, so you coo your encouragement into his skin, kiss down his jaw and the side of his neck with each reassuring whisper. 

“Ohh god, that’s so good,” Kiri sighs, eyes trained down to where his dick is being swallowed up, girth squeezed so tight it’s almost painful, “Takin’ me so, so well. Shit, so tight—“

The little, pink ring sucks him in deeper, stretching impossibly far around his thick cock. Kiri spits down on it, spreads it over his free length with his hand then pushes the fluid in with a shallow thrust. He does it again, slowly, answering each one of Bakugou’s choked groans with sweet, albeit equally choked words of praise. 

And you sit there, patiently, tasting Bakugou’s skin and scratching lightly at his scalp with his cock nestled inside you. 

The sensations are overwhelming — the impossible fullness in his ass, the delicious sting of Kiri working his cock in deeper and deeper. And the snug fit of your pussy around him, damp walls clenching every so often, like a warm, wet hug for his aching cock. His dick is jumping and tensing inside you, no doubt coating your insides with more and more sticky arousal with each careful push of Kiri’s hips.

And then Kirishima is finally buried to the hilt, balls meeting the tight muscle of his ass, and the long, low groan Bakugou lets out seems to vibrate right up your spine.

Kiri pulls out, the tight ring squeezing like a vice the whole way, and then slams back in.

“Fuck!” Bakugou’s face is pinched and flushed, sweat beading on his forehead when he pleads with you in a strained voice. “Need you to move. N-need you to ride me…” And this time he says it out loud, a hoarse and needy “Please.”

So you move for him, push your hips back on him so his cock is sliding slowly in and out of your pussy. It glides easily, so slippery with the mix of your juices and all the precum he was leaking right into you. You roll your hips steadily back and forth, back and forth, pulling pretty moans from Bakugou’s lips with each careful movement.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down and hugging you close, and then a new set of hands is gripping your ass. Kiri pulls you open, squeezing hard as he watches the dick slide in and out of your wet pussy, watches your silky skin hug and drag every time you roll your hips up. 

He has the most perfect view of you creaming around Bakugou’s cock, making a mess of white that coats it and collects right around the base. It makes his mouth water — so he spits down on your ass, watches the glob drip onto your hole and down over the dick you’re impaled on. It mixes with the fluids there, makes it even wetter, messier.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Look at you…”  He murmurs, awe-struck, snapping his hips harder into Bakugou as his big hands push and pull on you, guiding you back and forth on another man’s dick. “Ride that dick, baby. So pretty… God damn, these holes are so pretty.”

“Y’like what you see, Red?” Comes your voice, sickeningly sweet as you smile over your shoulder at him.

“Mmm yeah, look so pretty stuffed with cock.” A smile of his own playing on his lips when he adds, “Both of you do.”

You send your hips back again, slowly, teasingly, and Kiri’s gaze drops back down to watch your pussy swallow Bakugou’s length. And right underneath that is Bakugou’s ass swallowing his length, over and over with each buck of his hips. Both holes so greedy, so wet and tight and eager for cock — the sight alone is overwhelming, downright pornographic, and Kiri feels his stomach tighten up with the tell-tale sign of his release—

So he pulls out, clenches his jaw and grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming so soon. “Shit, I almost…” He laughs, light and breathy, as he cards his other hand through his hair. “Just need a second.”

Fingers gripping your chin pull your attention back, Bakugou catching your mouth in a needy kiss before grinning up at you. The mist in his eyes has parted, nothing but fire outlining the deep, dilated black of his pupils.

His voice is quiet, but rough when he tells you, “‘m gonna fuck you now.”

You don’t have time to respond before you’re being flipped over. (Not that a response is needed. It wasn’t a question.)

You’re on your back once more, your legs being pushed open by hands cupped under your knees, Bakugou mounting you with a tongue swiping hungrily over his teeth. He slides his dick back inside you in one foul swoop, the head of his cock hitting your walls hard and knocking a shrill cry from your throat.

He’s so pent up from having you grind on him slowly, being a puddle underneath you despite aching with the animalistic need to pound you, that he just can’t hold back. He’s ruthless, needing to fuck you hard and fast and mean – and your pussy responds so beautifully, syrupy juices gushing out around his dick, practically spraying all over him with the force of his thrusts.

“God, this pussy’s so fuckin wet. So fuckin’ sloppy. All for me, yeah?”

Your staccato moans are the only answer you give – besides the loud squelch of your cunt when he buries himself to the hilt.

“Say it,” he spits, squeezing your face in his hands to force you to focus on him, “say it’s all for me.”

So you do — you chant it like a holy truth, with your eyes on him and your legs shaking. “All for you, it’s all for you!”

You’re rewarded with a more violent snap of his hips, pulling all the way out and slamming back in. “That’s. fucking. right.” He’s growling down at you, crazed, punctuating each word with a wet slap of skin.

“You like bein’ a little slut for us don’tcha, princess?” He drills you into the mattress, pinning both of your legs back, bending you painfully so he can fuck into you deeper. “Like bein’ my little cocksleeve?” 

All you can do is squeal, mind going blank as he bullies into you — so he answers for you, he knows the answer anyways. “Fuck yeah, you do.” Another hard thrust, and you’re sliding further up the bed. His hands hot, possessive when he drags you back. “Nasty little bitch — god, this pussy feels so fuckin’ good—“

But then he’s falling forward, being pushed forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. He shoots a glare behind him, spits a “what the fuck” back at Kirishima, who has a hand braced on the blonde’s shoulder and his eyes cast down.

Kiri grabs hold of the smaller man’s hip, squeezing as he pushes into him, in turn pressing Bakugou further into you. A collective hiss echoes through the room.

Kiri is sheathed back inside him and, like a switch being flipped, Bakugou goes silent. His breaths are ragged, his eyes glazed. His hips still. 

Kirishima pulls out, then fucks back into him just once, making Bakugou’s cock reach even deeper inside of you with the force of his thrust.

“Don’t stop.” A firm command, punctuated by soft kisses to Bakugou’s back. “Keep fucking her.”

Bakugou grits his teeth, breathing a curse out between them, then sets his jaw hard with determination and rocks his hips again. And Kiri stays still, lets him fuck himself back on his cock.

The blonde pulls out and slams back in, over and over, harder and harder, resuming his brutal pace. He’s fucking into you feverishly, spearing himself on Kiri’s dick as he spears you with his, seesawing back and forth between the two. 

“Ohhh fuck… there you go, good boy.” A big hand appears, wrapping loosely around Bakugou’s throat, fingers gripping right under his jaw to tilt his head up and make his back arch. Not choking but possessing, commanding. Dominating. The blonde pants, eyes rolling back, hips moving faster as he succumbs to the will of the man deep in his ass — and he looks positively blissful doing it.

Kirishima leans in and presses a cheek to his temple, eyes dark and piercing as he grips his jaw tighter. “Keep going just like that. Make her cum for us.”

Then he turns his gaze down to you. “Be a good girl and play with your pussy while he fucks you.”

You’re quick to obey, fingers finding your clit to rub fast, harsh circles into it. You were already close, dangling right on the edge from Bakugou’s rough treatment. And now the way your boyfriend is looking at you, looming over you both in a way that’s so different than you’ve ever seen him — you’re practically boiling over with desire.

Bakugou keeps fucking you, hard and deep, caught in between the heat of your cunt and the stretch of Kiri’s dick, and the sounds he’s making are downright sinful. Grunts and whines and broken curses that meld together in his mouth, sometimes spilling right over your lips, sometimes being swallowed by Kiri as his face is turned back by a hand on his jaw. He’s taken Kirishima’s cock before, and he’s given you his, but both at the same time has his eyes rolling so far up into his head that he can’t see straight.

He looks totally wrecked, completely fucked out, glassy-eyed and flushed and panting like a dog — it’s egging you on, making you rub your engorged nub faster as you feel pleasure winding tightly in your core.

And Kiri sees it on your face, so he brings his lips closer to Bakugou’s ear. His voice like cocoa, dripping dark and sweet.

“Want you to tell me when you feel her cumming, Katsuki. Tell me when you feel her gush on your dick.”

And something about that – being talked about like you’re not there, like you’re just a toy being shared, or a precious little pet being played with – makes the tether in you suddenly snap.

You do gush, hard, shrill chants of “ohmygod, ohmygod” and “yes, yes, yes” joining the chorus of wet sounds as you cum on Bakugou’s dick. His eyes go wide in realization before they’re rolling back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He groans long and low at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, leaking more and more slick that he fucks right out of you with each stroke. 

“Ohhh fuck— I feel it—! She’s so, f-fucking tight. So wet.”

Kirishima smiles, big and wicked, then reaches out to grab hold of your hips before plowing forward. 

He pounds hard and fast into Bakugou, big hands wrapped around your hips for leverage, trapping him between you. Each thrust is an explosive chain reaction — Kiri fucking into Bakugou, forcing Bakugou to fuck into you. You’re caged underneath the blonde, his forearms on the bed and his chest pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut as Kiri gives him every thick, rigid inch like a man possessed.

It’s merciless, the way Kirishima is manhandling you both, the mattress squeaking and the headboard thudding against the wall. And it’s hot, all of you damp with sweat, two hulking forms crowded over you and making you feel like a small animal caught in a trap. 

Your head digs back into the cushion, back arching off the bed, fingers scratching mindlessly at the sheets as you’re fucked into oblivion. You’re given no chance to come down from your high, everything so swollen and sensitive as your orgasm is prolonged past the point of sanity. 

Bakugou is so deep inside you, reaching so far up into your cunt that you swear you can feel him in your throat. Every pull has him dragging deliciously against your walls, and every push has him carving out the space again, his tip hammering right into your sweet spot like a pleasurable punch to the gut. You scream, babble incoherently about how deep he is, how it’s too much, how you can’t take it.

And Bakugou echoes you, voice hoarse and face pinched.

“Fuck— W-wait— if you keep— I’m g-gonna—“

Kiri shushes him, kisses his shoulder, coos so sweetly as he continues his relentless assault on both of your holes. “Take it a little longer, baby. Doin’ so good, so fuckin’ good for me.”

“Fuck , Ei—!“

“Go ahead.” Sweat rolls down his temple, red hair sticking to his forehead. He cranes his neck down, watches Bakugou’s ass swallow him up with a groan. “Cum for us. Do it inside her. Let it all out in that pussy.”

You’re practically brainless at this point, wet and warm and perfectly pliant underneath them, but Kiri’s filthy command brings you back down to earth. You hook your arms around Bakugou’s shoulders, as if he can be anymore trapped, and plead breathlessly for his cum.

“Please! Give it to me, please—!”

His eyes open, fiery red reappearing from behind his lids as he takes in the desperate, fucked out look on your face. He feels his balls tighten, stomach tingling — aching to give you exactly what you want. “Fuck, you want it? Want this load in your cunt?”

You nod furiously, open your legs up wider, wanting him deeper. “Fill me up, Kats. I want it— want it so fucking bad.”

A loud curse and another hard thrust, and his own hips start matching Kiri’s rhythm, chasing the slippery drag of your walls. You’re so tight around him, almost like your body knows what’s coming and is trying to milk it right out of him. 

“God damn— I’m gonna cum, gonna dump it all so deep inside you.” He burrows his face in your neck, his voice shaky and vibrating against your skin. “Fuck, take it— take all my fuckin’ cum—!”

Burying himself to the hilt, he gives it to you, shoots it all out against your walls, his dick pulsing so hard with each thick rope that you can feel it. It’s warm, flooding your insides with heat that spills out around his cock and trickles down your ass in hot, gooey trails.

And Kirishima feels it too, his cock caught in a vice-like grip as the muscles around it contract. He can barely move, sucked in by Bakugou’s orgasm, but each twitch and squeeze feels so unbelievably good — he throws his head back and lets the pleasure wash over him, pumping his cum right into that tight, needy hole. And then he pulls out, fists his cock wildly and shoots the rest of it out onto Bakugou’s ass. 

The redhead is panting as he strokes the last bit of cum from his tip, grabbing a handful of the blonde’s taut cheek to pull him open and watch the mess of white dribble from his loosened hole. There’s so much of it, oozing out in thick globs over his balls, dripping down to mix with the cum slipping out of you and coating his dick. “Such a mess…” he chuckles under his breath as he shifts out of the way enough for Bakugou to roll off of you.

But then a rough hand is tangling in his hair, pulling the redhead down towards your used up pussy as warm cum continues to seep out of it. Bakugou’s face comes right up to his, nose to cheek, with a nasty grin splitting his lips open.

“Then clean it up.”

Kirishima’s face is pushed down between your legs, and you gasp at the sudden contact of his mouth. His tongue is downright greedy as it laps the bittersweet cum from your folds, and you’re so sore and sensitive that you immediately whine and try to scoot away.

Two muscular arms hook tightly around your thighs, Kiri pulling you back in and looking up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Stay still, baby, please,” his tongue darts out again, groaning low at the taste, “gonna clean you right up, ok?”

“S-so sensitive—!”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Just let me…” But he can’t finish his thought, lashes fluttering as he continues licking up the cum from your entrance. The mix of you and Bakugou swirls around on his tastebuds, makes him dizzy with desire. He extends his tongue, drags it all the way up from your ass, letting it dip into your slit and collect more of the mixture for him to hungrily swallow.

It’s filthy, watching your boyfriend eat another man’s cum out of you like he’s starving for it — and you’re already so sensitive, your clit engorged and your folds swollen from friction. A thick finger pushes inside you, sinking knuckle deep to scoop more cum out of you, and your back arches high off the bed.

“Ohhhh— ohmygod fuck!”

Bakugou is right behind Kiri, watching with low eyes and a snarling smile. He pushes the bigger man’s face harder into you, laughs meanly when you gasp.

“What was that shit you told me?” He rasps, craning his neck down to talk in Kirishima’s ear. “Tell me when you feel her gush.”

It’s like a game between them, and you’ve somehow become the ball.

There’s an excited glint in Kiri’s eyes when he opens them again to stare up at you, plunging another finger into you and curling them hard as he latches his lips onto your clit. You writhe in the sheets, bucking and squirming as you’re overstimulated. But Kiri keeps you firmly in place, holding you down like it’s nothing with a thick arm barred over your hips, and quickly brings you back to the edge.

But this time is different, your insides so swollen from the beating they’d gotten, so sensitive from your last mind-numbing orgasm, so responsive to the beckoning curl of his big fingers… You feel it, the intense build of pressure, and your eyes go wide, pleas to wait and hold on tumbling from your lips as your body curls in on itself. But Kiri just keeps going, grunts his encouragement onto your clit as he sucks and licks it, flexes his forearm as he fucks you even harder on his fingers — and you fall right apart with a scream and a rush of fluids.

“Ohh shit!” Bakugou laughs as Kiri pulls his face away. 

The redhead braces a hand on your abdomen and pushes down to keep you still, then hooks his fingers into you, moving his arm hard to attack that spongy spot and fuck more squirt out of you. It sprays violently out of your cunt as you scream, showering them both in your essence, so much that it drips down their bare chests and soaks the sheets.

Bakugou slaps at your clit as you come down, laughs again when you buck up involuntarily. “Now that’s a fuckin’ mess.”

They’re both glistening, Kiri’s face dripping, droplets of your cum snaking down their stomachs. It’s nasty, everything muggy and wet and covered in somebody’s cum.

And you all look downright blissful about it, panting heavy and smiling like cats that got all of the cream.

Bakugou reaches out, kisses Kirishima hard and licks the taste of you off his mouth. Then he’s pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours, passing the sweetness on to you.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

*grabby hands* dilf!nanami hcs..

DILF!NANAMI

match up ꑘ dilf!nanami x nanny!reader [afab + fem!reader, she/her prns]

tags/warnings ꑘ age gap [reader is 26/nanami is 37], mentions of kids, illness comfort, alcohol use, pet names, domesticity kink, marking [hickies + biting + scratching + m.receiving], sex toys [vibe], oral [f.receiving], mating press, overstim, aftercare-ish

ro's notes ꑘ hehehe now honey yk me so well 🤭 also i may have flushed this one out since i love it sm but i hope u don’t mind 🤧

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose hand was practically forced when it came to hiring a nanny, his promotion taking precious time away from his twins, yuuji and sukuna. “i’m sorry, boys, but i’m sure you’ll love them. i’ll only hire the best for you two.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who shocked you the second he opened the door to his apartment, his sharp jaw and handsome features making you stutter out your hello, him returning with, “you must be ms. [y/n]. nice to meet you, dear.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who found it hard to dislike you even at your newly constant presence, because even when the kids were at school, you were there, cleaning the house or asking him if he needed anything from the market. “well, suk wanted some mango and yuj some strawberries, so would you like a fruit with your “school” lunch like them.” the smile and giggle making his heart pick up pace

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose favorite weekend activity was quickly going to the park with you and the twins, loving how you would tease and pick at them but still give them the encouragement and support they needed “yuuji your hairs a mess—come ‘ere so i can fix it, baby.” “sukuna, look at me for a sec and why don’t you tell me why you’ve started crying, hun.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose favorite weekend activity was quickly going to the park with you and the twins, loving how you would tease and pick at them but still give them the encouragement and support they needed “yuuji your hairs a mess—come ‘ere so i can fix it, baby.” “sukuna, look at me for a sec and why don’t you tell me why you’ve started crying, hun.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who started to depend on you on more than just an employee level, enjoying your ‘non-nanny’ days when the twins would spend the night at their friend, megumi’s home and you would sit with him on the couch and talk for a few hours “mmm, i see. so your boss wants you to newbies work? doesn’t seem fair.” even falling asleep on his shoulder one night

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who began to care for you quicker than expected, your kindness and optimism oftentimes overtaking his pessimistic, tired days, leaving him to yearn for your return from picking up the twins from school. “don’t rush,” is what he’d tell you but may have paced back and forth in front of the main window while he waited when he should be writing emails

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who reveled in your presence during the summer months when the four of you traveled to the Netherlands for some time away from the city—Nanami saying the reason was that was were his great grandfather was from. “i’ll be honest with you,,,i’ve never met that man in my life but it is beautiful here, isn’t it?”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who loved having your bedroom next to his rather than across the apartment, loved hearing your music play when you showered, hearing you murmur to your family over the phone, and dance around when you got tipsy late at night

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who forced you to the doctors when you got a cold, sending the boys to the old couple next door that had been dying to spend the day with them

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who then let the twins have a sleep over so he could sit by your bed that night and rush to the bathroom for cool wash cloths when you gained a fever, then falling asleep with his head at the foot of your bed

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fell ill shortly after you got better and was possible too ecstatic to have you dozing off on his bed after taking his temperature instead “such a cozy sleeper,” he thought before joining you in slumber

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was accidentally too touchy one night, putting his hand on your lower back and kissing your cheek before you left the kitchen to get ready for bed, saying, “goodnight, sunshine.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was knocking on your bedroom door after a day of the two of you playing with the kids in the garden. “mr. kento? i’m in the bath, but you can come in.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who nervously walked toward your bathroom, only to pause outside the open doorframe, twisting to rest his back against the wall. “a bath? you never take those.” “well after my shower i was feeling a bit sore.”

“hm…im sure there’s a spa in town. you’ve been working so hard. why don’t you take the day off to enjoy yourself, get a massage?”

“mmm, i don’t know.” and maybe there had been a two time empty wine glass sitting on the edge of that tub. “i don’t think i’d want anyone but you to touch me when I’m so close to be naked.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fumbled the bag he soooo desperately wanted. “uh, some other time. I actually came to ask you something.”,

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had successfully stumbled through asking to make you dinner when the boys would be with the neighbors for a few days. “it’s almost time to head back to Tokyo—wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us so far.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fed you a homemade meal and a bottle of wine that left you sitting on his lap, playing the his unbuttoned white shirt, chewing on your lip while his smooth voice washed over you. “your voice is so sexy,” you slurred, pawing at his chest. “it’s like…fuckable- want your voice to fuck me, mr. nanami”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who let you kiss on his neck while holding your hips still, “why don’t we get you to bed?”, only to learn you had fell asleep and he would be trudging through the house with you in his arms to put you to bed

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who refused to have the childish “i’m embarrassed and i’m sorry” from you, quickly correcting that if he hadn’t enjoyed it you would’ve known and the bruises in his neck was a lasting reminder of how long he let you kiss and suck at his throat

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who wasted no time in taking the chores off your hands for the next couple of days and him standing over the sink, washing the dishes, shouldn’t have made you ache as much as it did

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was suddenly aware of the vibrating sound coming from your bedroom; he’d heard it before but now that he’d pieced it together he may have tried to listen a bit closer

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had knocked on your door and now had one of your legs over his shoulder while he sucked on your clit and licked through your folds in the middle of the doorway “such a pretty thing,” was muffled because of your hands keeping his head buried in your cunt

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who did his best to be loving when he got you on the bed, did his best to fuck you slow and sweet, “it’s been so long, [y/n].” but your pleas for him to be more rough broke his resolve. “i’m begging, kento. i wanna cry- make me cry, please. please, fuck me harder.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose blonde hair was messy with sweat while your hands clawed at his back. “hell, you feel so good and your fucking nails.” his thrusts forced you to grab ahold of the headboard to keep from having your head slammed into the wood.

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who took pride in pressing your legs to your chest and pumping loads of cum into your drenched cunt “you’ll take it all, won’t you?” loving how you screamed, “yes! yes, i will.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose eyes caught the vibrator sitting on your nightstand and quickly pressed it against your clit and watch you try and squirm away “c’mon stay still, beautiful.” “‘m tryinggg.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had you cum over and over till tears left your eyes to grace your cheeks. “kento- I’m- I can’t-” “i know, i know. one more for me, alright?” him, stroking your cheeks so lovingly like he wasn’t making you gasp for air and grit your teeth

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who, with ease, made you a mess on his dick, leaving you shaking against his chest after you had both came for the last time. “just relax. i’ve got you, dear.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who couldn’t have been happier to wake up next to you, your hands wrapped around his bicep, face squished against his bite mark covered shoulder. “love,,,we’ve got to get up…wait- uh, how do you feel? can you move?”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who made you breakfast in bed before running to the grab the twins from your neighbors. “i’ll be back right.” then listening to sukuna ask if you could come with them next summer. “hopefully and hopefully she’ll come with us when we go to Malaysia.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fell quick and even harder when you returned to Japan, ready to remove your nanny title to something more and closer to his heart. maybe even move your room closer to his

ꑘ AND DILF!NANAMI who had thoughts of proposing just a year later with a simple ring like you requested and at a bar in Malaysia where he had taken you on your first date of many dates “i think i wanna spend the rest of my life with you, move the out with you, travel with you, retire with you, do everything with. you..”

tagging ꑘ @sintiva @okhotel @chaotic-nick @missyasma @tonaken @nekoriots @wh0reforlevi @q-the-rockaholic @forwardpair @sugaslilsugabby @erenyeagerswhore @takemichiluvr @heartsfrommars + taglist

Cut to the Chase

PAIRING: timeskip!Suna Rintarou x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, light manhandling, masturbation (f), hair-pulling, cum eating, biting, use of bunny once, mating press

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: You really like Suna’s new haircut. All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“Are you going to let me in?”

You and Suna stare at each other as he waits at your door. Or rather, his expression appears bored while his eyes show a mix of impatience and confusion as your gaze holds awe.

“All right,” the middle blocker huffs before carefully squeezing past you, “I’ll just…”

Keep reading

surrender to the sea, hange zoë

pairing: pirate captain!hange x noble!reader, they/them pronouns used for hange with afab anatomy for both

summary: your father’s shady business deals with a pirate crew lead to collateral damage.

warnings: kidnapping, pwp, explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni (consensual no dubcon here), poc friendly!! hange is a freak, r is SO down bad (same), r is dissatisfied w her life, tension, acc insane executions of gay panic, theres so much exposition before the smut im so sorry bear with me, cunnilingus, fingering, general filthiness — enjoy.

wc: 8.8k, sorry i cant stop yapping.

a.n : listen i tried to stop myself but im weak to my own devil thoughts ok hange worshippers wya

—

Jolting, you sat up in your bed, awakened from slumber by a whipping crash, followed by splintered glass cracking on the hardwood floors of your quarters.

Heart thumping in your ears from the shock, your head instinctively turned towards the shattered window, where the translucent fabric of the curtains were being dragged out with the cool night’s wind. Brows furrowing, your gaze turned to a small, thick object on the floor, illuminated by hints of moonlight, presumably the very cause of the shattering.

You felt an odd feeling, something in the wind warning you that you weren’t alone, you looked over your room, checking for anything out of order. There was nothing out of place, it wasn’t until your second skim over the room that you saw it. A shadow in the darkest corner, the corner where light barely hit it, something to do with the measurements of the architecture, you’d been told. It was there though, undeniably.

“Who are you?” You spoke, shakily, loud against the otherwise still atmosphere, your voice caused a small laugh to come from the unknown shadow.

“That’s your first question?” They spoke, an air of condescension about them.

“I should like to know the identity of the person who has broken into my quarters,” You steeled your voice, trying to portray an image of fearlessness though you were betrayed by the slight tremor in your hands as they clutched onto the bedsheets for any hope of comfort, “May you at least come out from the shadows?” Your fear was definitely betrayed then, as the person stepped forward, the light now casting shadows over their features.

You looked them over, noticing a slight reflection from the glass in their spectacles, a black band covering one quarter of their face, obscuring the right eye. You shook, this was no person from court, maybe not even from this city. Their hardened features, accessories and strange attire placing them from somewhere else entirely. Who is this stranger? What business have they with you?

You find yourself lacking words, having been woken up in such a way was causing a lack of signals to be sent to and from the brain. You were just staring at them, stunned to silence.

“No more questions, huh?”

“I-I just, am confused,” You responded, blinking away tears that formed as you truly grasped the situation you were in, and anything that could happen from here.

“Well, let me explain then,” they shrugged, “You’re coming with me,”

You ogled, “Coming with you, where exactly?”

“As it turns out, daughters are the best way to get a man to pay up,” They chuckled, you didn’t like the implications of this, at all. What did this have to do with your father? Last you had spoken to him, he was furious at you, having been ‘disrespectful’ to one of the countless suitors he had tried arranging for you. You don’t know why he still bothered; every time each one of the suitors had travelled and began any attempts at courting you, you’d reject them.

“I hope you know I’m not going to marry you,” you’d said to one of them, once. You could almost laugh at the gears turning inside their heads as they looked at you as if you were an entity. You’d add in a couple of comments here and there about how their attempts were foolish and in vain, how they coat their dark intentions behind sweet words and promises. You could always see through them. Plus, it was hard to deny the entertainment you’d get from seeing their flustered faces, set on denying all accusations whilst having no actual defence, before huffing and wandering away, not before having words with your father about how they would never marry such a disobedient and insolent woman. Was this your father trying to teach you a lesson? No. That doesn’t feel right, they emphasised paying up. Pay for what? You wondered, had your father been up to something?

“Unfortunately, that makes you collateral,” they paused, looking down as they adjusted the sword that was clinging onto their side, sheathed away, for now. You hadn’t even noticed it before, shuddering as you realised you were completely defenceless. Not a weapon nearby you could use, even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to formulate an attack, regardless. “So, you’d better listen to what I say, and come with me,”

After a beat, with no response, they continued, “I will only ask nicely once, princess,” Sighing as one hand moved to their hip, the other remained on the hilt of their sword, “I’d prefer to do this cordially, if you wanna make it ugly, that’s your choice.”

You blinked, truly at a loss, what the fuck was happening?

“If I go with you, will you tell me what’s going on?” You hated the way that sounded on your tongue, so helpless and lost— a feeling you resented, pride dissipating and crumbling into a tiny speck.

“You have to come with me to find out,”

—

Wood creaked beneath your feet, steps hesitant as the stranger escorted you along the way, your vision totally blinded as they had wrapped a cloth around your eyes. Closing your senses from the rest of the world, all you could do was rely on the sounds of hectic chatter and sea waves, a salty scent around you.

You’d been walking for what felt like miles, but your manor wasn’t too far away from the sea, that stretched out to meet a vast ocean, the only connection between your country and any others. You knew you had been taken to the coast, based on the cries of seagulls and the humming water.

The stranger’s hand was placed on the lower of your back, guiding you, as well as deterring you from any sudden moves. You probably would’ve tried to run away from them, were it not for the clang of metal that was attached to the stranger’s hip.

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

“I think you’re confused on our roles here, sweetheart,” They chuckled, “You don’t get to order me around,” They added a slight push at your back, emphasising the fact that they hold all the cards, whilst you’re just leverage. That was the only part of this you understood.

Sighing, you sneered your lip. You were starting to get pissed off, this stranger completely disrupted your sleep, blindfolded you, is kidnapping you, and you still have no clue as to why. You needed answers.

Your steps came to a halt, when you felt the stranger press you forward to nudge you, you hardened your legs to the ground.

“I’m not continuing,” A pause, “You said you wanted to do this cordially, then tell me your name,”

The stranger sighed, you could almost hear the roll in their eyes, “Look, we’re almost here, okay?”

“Just a few more steps and then I’ll tell you,”

Another nudge at your back, along with a hand meeting yours, “Watch ya step,” They spoke, guiding you up what felt like a ramp, their hand leading you.

A door slammed behind you, the stranger removed their hands and disappeared for a short time before you felt them behind you again, fingers untying the knotted cloth. You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Were they going to kill you?

Your eyes felt slightly raw after being covered so tightly for that long, after you adjusted to the air and light around you, you could take in your surroundings.

The room was slightly dimmed, lighted only by a few oil lamps that burned away in their designated corners, you noticed countless jars on the shelves, preserving different sea creatures and other things you could not recognise. Notes and maps were scattered all over the floor and the desks, piles of books, rustic and handmade, but neat and organised— in its own way. This was the room of someone who studied and researched, you could recognise the frantic illustrations immediately, could feel the passion that lingered in the room.

The stranger moved in front of you, “You just gonna stare?” Your eyes took them in now, fully in vision this time, with no more shadows to hide behind, no more cloth. Their eyes were a soft, dark brown, layers of hair falling over the sides of their face, the tips rimmed with leftover structure from saltwater. Strong jawline and a strong nose, their glasses sat atop the bridge, leaning down slightly, the black band you noticed before still covering their eye. Their attire consisted of a loose black, long-sleeved shirt, a large slit down the chest area, not tied with the laces, allowing you to see the vast black strings with pendants that made up the necklaces wrapped around their neck. You recognised it as a shirt that was traditionally stitched for men, though they certainly looked much better in it than any man could. Loose black pants which emphasised their slender waist, with dark long boots, you could see scuffing on the edges of them from wear, the laces splitting from frequent tying. You let out a sigh, before speaking.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Hange,”

“You’re not from this land,” You say, “You’re a person of the sea,”

Hange hummed, their hand meeting their hip once again.

“Are you going to kill me?”

They let out a laugh, one so inappropriate it almost made you feel stupid, “Sweetheart, if I was going to kill you, d’you think I’d have taken you here?”

“Well, it would’ve been foolish to kill me in my quarters,”

“Leverage needs to be alive to be worthwhile, that’s the whole point,” The way they spoke unnerved you, with their charismatic words and smug voice. Hints of a smirk tugging at their lips.

“Where is ‘here’, anyway?” You didn’t feel stable, the floor rocked up and down slightly, your stomach turning a little as you adjusted to the slight weightlessness of the structure. “We’re on water, I can hear the waves,”

“Don’t worry, we haven’t set sail yet,” They walked over to their desk, moving around some papers, studying its contents, “There’s still business to tend to before we do,” In other words, your father.

You watched them, the way their sword clung and clanked against the hardwood of the desk, their tall stature almost reaching the short ceiling of the cabin, hand splayed on the desk for stability. Hair tied up at the back, with strands spilling out of their tie.

“What’s my purpose here?” Your arms crossed over your stomach, fingers grabbing at the sleeves of loose fabric of your nightdress, feeling vulnerable.

“Your father’s in some trouble,” They chuckled, your heart sank, “He owes me,”

“For what?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” you replied, voice tensing. “Do not address me as such,” Hange’s lips tilted, noticing your misgivings, the tense shoulders and a quip in your upper lip. Distaste. Interesting.

“Your father’s trying to make you one. Queen Consort, as I’ve heard,” Your brows furrowed.

“I do not follow,”

Hange looked up from their pages, gazing right at you. You tried swallowing, throat dry, as they hoisted themselves off the desk and stepped closer.

“He commissioned us, my crew,” Hange spoke, “To track and retrieve the Marleyan jewel.”

“I thought that was legend, an ancient myth of a mystical jewel, passed down from stories.”

“Oh, it’s very real, my lady.” You sighed, at least they were addressing you properly this time.

“And a very dangerous job, at that.” You stared at Hange, looking for any hints that this was just an elaborate joke. None were found, though. They were serious.

“I lost two good men, almost the rest of my crew for that buffoon,” They sighed, a flash of anger in their eyes, rubbing the skin of their jaw, “We retrieved this jewel, and your father tried to rob me blind, I want compensation.”

“Why would he go to those lengths? I do not understand,”

“For you, princess.”

When you did not answer, Hange continued, “Apparently this was his golden opportunity, get the long-desired jewel to gift the King an offering for your hand to the prince. Establish power and riches, and a good suitor for his daughter.”

Your stomach churned, you knew your father was adamant on marrying you off, but this? This was something different, sinister. You knew Hange was telling the truth, the intricacies of the story fell into place too well to be a lie.

Your father was truly a despicable man, hungry for power, and uncaring of those he stepped on to get to his station. Now you were paying for his greed. You think back to your mother, wishing she had outlived him, maybe you would be different, now.

“He cost me two men, our stock and supplies,” Hange pressed, shaking their head, “I can’t have that.”

“So you take me for ransom?”

“If he is not willing to pay up, I’m taking it upon myself to make him. One way or another, he will pay.”

Tears rimmed the ducts of your eyes, you blinked them away, a futile attempt to not show weakness. You know what that meant, either in physical currency or emotional currency, even if he cared little for you, he’d be paying with the loss of a guaranteed seat. To a man like that, that’s punishment enough. You chewed the corner of your lip, nerves eating you up.

“I can’t believe he’d do this,” You could actually, it was more the disbelief of how quickly your situation had changed, “All to marry me off to a disgusting man, be done with me whilst he sits comfortably,”

“You don’t wish to marry a handsome prince? Live a life of wealth and comfort?” Hange looked amused, almost perplexed that this was against your wishes.

“I wish for nothing of the sort,” You sneered, “I crave a life of my own choosing.”

Hange’s features softened, feeling a tug of pity before shutting the feeling down. They almost related to you, almost. Before reiterating to themselves that you were the same as all the other rich nobles. Wealthy and comfortable in your ostentatious manors, with even more ostentatious dresses, whilst the rest of the population suffered, starved and fought for dregs of burnt bread and half pints of spoiled milk. You were no different. No different.

“Careful, my lady, or I’ll sail this ship with you in it,”

You let out a saddened laugh, “Better than what he was planning for me,” You snuck a glance at the circular port window, watching as people were busying themselves with tasks. Filling up crates of fruits, dried fish, barrels of wine and weapons. You mulled for a second, it could be worse, Hange could’ve killed you at the first meet, or even worse, your father successfully got his hands on the jewel, and shipped you off to live a life with a prince who couldn’t even fold his own clothes, or bathe himself. You could visualise your father sitting back, smug and content as he finally got what he always wanted. Abundant wealth and power.

“I do not wish to stay here.” You said, voice more confident than it had been the entire time. Hange looked up at you, surprise taking over their features, “You may demand whatever compensation you require from my father, but…”

“When you set sail, I wish to come with.”

—

Hange had left the captain’s cabin for quite some time, leaving you inside alone as you couldn’t be allowed on the deck yet, not trusted to not do anything stupid yet. They had to check on a few of the crewmates first. You were an interesting character to say the least, Hange could tell you were stubborn, though that’s normal for a high-born, accustomed to making demands and having them realised. It was easy to imagine you not mixing well at court, with your disregard for hierarchy and noble customs. They almost laughed at your conviction when you said you wished to board the ship, of your own accord. The most determined glaze over your features. That was an unexpected oversight, Hange didn’t expect you to go so willingly. A part of them was relieved, content they didn’t need to make it bloodier than it had to be. They have morals, after all. Hurting an innocent woman would provide no respect amongst their crew, not when the real fish was the father.

The crew’s respect and admiration for the captain of the ship was of utmost importance, they need a leader they could trust and admire, it was easy enough to have mutiny on your hands. The ship was passed down to Hange from their father, but the trust and good dynamic of a solid crew, you have to earn yourself. Hange had established that respect from one of their first expeditions, under their confident lead the ordeal had been speedy and efficient. Hange ordered the rewards to be split and distributed as was deemed fair. With multiple feats over harsh waters and perilous expeditions, Hange had consistently proved themselves as a strong leader, they ran a tight ship and their crew meant everything to them.

*

You sat there in your silly nightdress, ennui eating at your brain as you sat, wishing you could change into something else. Arms wrapped around your legs, looking around as you waited. Deciding to get up, you looked around the room, it was rather nice, for what it was.

You walked up to the shelves, sea oddities neatly placed preserved in jars, with linen labels pinned underneath. You noticed various species, octopi, starfish, eels, crabs and lobsters, and other creatures you had never seen before in your books. There were also drawn illustrations of the anatomy, their organs and bone structure— did Hange do all this?

Your eyes trailed around, landing on the maps and compasses discarded around the tables and floor, with coded markings and notes around certain landmarks, sketches of what you assumed to be distant lands. Looking in awe, wandering at all the things you had never heard of, let alone seen before. Hange must be so knowledgeable, so well-travelled, so.. free. All the things you wished you could be.

Running your fingers over the maps, you jumped back into propriety as the cabin door swung open, Hange’s footsteps filling the room. They looked at you, having noticed your sudden switch in demeanour.

“You inspecting my collection, my lady?” Their back was to you, hanging their outer coat on one of the nail pegs that had been hammered into the wall.

“I’m sorry, I..” You looked down, “I was just curious,”

“It’s alright, I’m quite fond of it myself,” They joined you, standing to your side and looking at where you had been caught touching the delicate papers.

“You did all of this?”

“Is that so surprising?” They chuckled, crossing their arms over their chest. “No,” You paused, “I have just never seen anything quite like this,”

“There are many wonders out in the world, I like to keep note of them,” “For plundering?” You joked, too late to bite it back before it slipped out.

They laughed, “Not everything is to be plundered, sometimes it’s enough to just take it in and observe,”

You looked up at them, there was something you couldn’t quite place about them, yet. They were unlike the pirates you had read about or heard bedtime stories of as a child.

“The world has many corners of beauty, they’re deserving of respect and admiration." Agreeing, you pointed at the display of jars, thinking back to your own research on botany, categorized and illustrated, frowning as you realised it was all left behind. All those hours spent bending your neck under candlelight wasted. “I have a similar collection, pressings of flowers and plants- a little like yours, illustrations and marked under their specifications: edible, toxic, healing,"

Hange looked at you, "Sounds wonderful," unexpecting to have anything in common with someone of your stature, and yet, here they were. "It's all in my quarters, so I doubt I shall see it again," You breathed out, trying to not make it seem like a loss. Hange's gaze turned towards the floor, feeling slightly culpable that they had taken that away from you.

Straightening their back up, they moved back to their satchel, opening it wide and grabbing some folded clothing, jars with some clear liquid, slightly cloudy. Moonshine, you noted. Easier to distil your own rather than paying double for liquor.

“This is for you,” They hummed, holding out their hand waiting for you to walk over and grab them.

“What is it?”

“Provisions,” They shrugged, “And some clothes, we don’t have a lot aboard, but you can have my cast-offs, they were going to be left at the port anyway.”

You looked at them like they had grown seven heads, not expecting sudden kindness from someone who kidnapped you only a few hours ago.

“This where you say ‘thank you, Hange’.” There was the smugness again, an impish look on their features, you rolled your eyes you stepped closer.

Grabbing the items from them, “Thank you, Hange,” You felt meek, under their heavy gaze as you said their name for the first time. It felt strange hearing it from your own mouth, “Any longer in that nightdress and I probably would’ve thrown myself overboard,”

They laughed, “Don’t think you’ll prefer my clothes any more, truthfully, but if you’re going to stay here for now, might as well blend in.”

“Anything is better than this,” You ran your fingers over the fabric.

“Get dressed, it’s mealtime soon,” “You’re letting me eat?”

They looked at you strangely, “I’m not letting a person on my ship starve, I’m not barbaric,” They stated as if it was obvious, it might’ve been, but not to you.

“Thank you,”

Nodding, Hange left you to get changed. Giving you privacy as they shut the door behind them, you waited a few seconds before undressing. You weren’t accustomed to wearing pants, nobility requiring you to wear frilly dresses that cut off your circulation and itched at your neck and wrists, you were rather excited to adorn some comfortable cloth, for once.

As you manoeuvred the loose shirt over your limbs, you noticed a lingering musk of salt and sandalwood? It was rather pleasant, you would normally make your own scented oils and perfumes from boiled flower petals, lavender and honeysuckle, plants native to your country. This scent was uncommon, usually gifted to you at court from wealthy travellers. You lifted the fabric closer to you, inhaling, it truly was divine. Is this what Hange smells like? You couldn't honestly say you hated it.

Slipping your legs through the pants, they were a bit over your standard size, you tucked the wide bottoms into your own boots. You were glad you opted for your hunting boots rather than your daily shoes. Not quite sure that you had put everything on properly, as the fit felt odd. Looking down, everything felt slightly too big and made you feel like a child in adult’s clothing. Frowning you tried tucking in the shirt, though that didn’t really seem to help either.

There was a knock at the cabin door, “Are ya decent?”

The concept made you chuckle, Hange treated you with a lot more respect and propriety than some of the men at court.

“Yes.”

“Never had to knock on my own door before,” Hange joked, letting themselves in, gazing over at you in your fresh clothes. Their smile dropped ever so slightly as their eyes travelled over your new attire. Hange's poet blouse hanging on you, you had, of course, actually tied the laces at the chest, you were a Lady after all. Kinda suits you, they thought, before shrugging it away to hidden corners.

"Does it look alright? It's a little big," "You complaining?" You flustered, not wanting to come across as ungrateful, "Not at all, I-" "I'm messing with you, may I?"

When you nodded, they walked up closer to you, eyes unreadable. You stiffened up, back a little straighter when they brought their hands to the bottom of the blouse. Watching their movements hesitantly, Hange did not make contact with your eyes, they were so close to you. Catching that hint of sandalwood again, almost intoxicating as you honed your vision onto their hands. Looking for anything else to concentrate on, it didn’t help much as Hange focused on undoing the bottom three catches, revealing your uncovered abdomen. They grabbed at the two, now separate hangs of the shirt, your breath hitching when their fingers delicately grazed your bare skin, a minute jerk of your stomach as Hange began tying the fabric together so it fit tighter around your waist. So that was the trick to it, then? You must admit, it was an improvement.

You let out a heavy breath when they were done, and finally stepped away. It was harder to breathe when Hange was that close, you will not let that happen again. Feeling far too clouded upon their proximity, perhaps you were allergic to the fragrance, you reasoned.

“Better?” Their voice lowered, awaiting your judgment,

“Much, thank you.”

—

Mealtime came quickly after, you hadn't expected it to be so busy, or so populated. How many people does it take to effectively run a vessel of this size? Hange led you to the upper deck, evidently the largest space aboard, where mealtimes commonly occurred. A large pot of warm meat stew was being led out by a small woman from the galley, placed upon the floor as the crew grabbed portions as they pleased. Hange passed you a ceramic dish, before ladling a couple spoonfuls into your plate.

Thanking them, you looked around, spotting barely any dining tables or chairs, mainly stools or planks of wood nailed together to form a bench, most taken up by the sailors, as others sat themselves in the grooves on the ship deck, some on the rim of the ship itself. You shall not risk that, you thought, still adjusting to the feeling of a rocking vessel.

“You’re probably used to something more polished, but this is how we eat here,” Hange shrugged, “Try to enjoy the stew, Sasha truly works wonders with very little,”

“Landing at port was a godsend, I used fresh meat this time,” The brunette who brought out the food spoke, overhearing the conversation, who you assumed was Sasha. You stilled, this time? What about every other time, you thought, shuddering. Well, no time to adjust like the present. Sticking the spoon into the stew, you took a mouthful, before looking up at Hange in wonder, eyes wide, “This is delicious,”.

“Thank Sasha, she keeps us all standing,” Hange joked, placing a hand upon Sasha’s shoulder.

“What do you normally eat?” You asked, directing your question over to Sasha,

“Usually what we can grab and preserve for a long time, dried meats, beans, your city has a lovely selection of fruits so we’ve stocked some of those, too!” She smiled at you, and you found that she had quite a comforting presence, feeling at ease, you hoped you could form a friendship with her.

Hange excused themselves, as they had something to attend to with someone called Levi. You watched them as they walked away, interacting with their crewmates, laughing with them over something you couldn’t hear. They definitely knew how to command attention, their entire being was self-assured, and confident in themselves and their abilities. Dragging your eyes away, back to Sasha, who watched you with a smile on her face.

“You’re not what I expected when Hange told us the plan,”

“I hope I haven’t disappointed,” you retorted, not really knowing how else one could respond to that. Sasha simply laughed, “It’s a great deal different, but not disappointing,”.

—

You had remained on the deck, the crew wanting to have a little friendly spar for morale. If this was the only entertainment you could get, you’d gladly take it. Having finally secured a spot on one of the benches, you watched as different spars played themselves out.

After a few, though, it was all starting to become a bit monotonous. Feeling your eyes glaze over, you were suddenly conscious of the fact that you hadn’t had a good nights rest since Hange took you, where would you even sleep tonight?

Your attention was redirected when a crewmember called out Hange’s name, challenging them to a spar. The newly formed crowd cheered as Hange made their way into the sparring space. A smirk on their lips as they vaunted, hand clasping their sword as it was unsheathed. Finally take a good look at it, it was a fine piece of metal, sleek and thin. The handle was adorned with intricate patterned etchings.

You took notice of how Hange handled the blade, slender fingers wrapped around the hilt as they pointed it towards the opponent. No shaking, no hesitation. A sturdy, stable grasp, with an arrogant side smile that captivated you, eyes glued on their movements as the opponent tried to disarm them, unsuccessfully. Hange was slightly more agile, their body flowed like liquid, vivacious as they fought. It seemed like they could almost foresee the man’s footing and which way he’d direct an attack. They must’ve sparred together many times. A few more attempts and Hange trapped his blade, lifting his own up and twisting their arm. His sword fell to the floor with a clang, reverberating against the wooden deck.

“Damn it, Captain!” The opponent yelled out, frustration in his voice as he thought he’d actually win this time, Hange only hung their head back and laughed, the strands of hair that edged down their face slipped back, exposing their jaw and neck. A gentle smile escaped your lips as you watched, they looked so liberated, so strong. Hange truly was an enigmatic figure, they carried themselves with authority that you can’t say you’d ever seen elsewhere. They were charismatic, magnetic, you could see that they truly had the admiration of their crew.

“You’ll have to try harder to beat me,” Hange teased, sheathing their sword, a mischievous glaze in their eyes as they landed on you. Your heart picked up, unable to pull your own gaze away from theirs, almost enchanted when you noticed the corner of their lips tilt up.

Breaking away from the contact, you felt your ears grow warm. Deciding to find the wooden deck the most interesting thing around you, until scuffed boots appeared in your line of vision. Looking up, Hange had stepped closer to you, placing their hand into a pocket of their pants.

“Time to retire, my lady?”

Fumbling, you flustered, “Where am I to sleep?” Members of the crew were scattered, some sleeping on the floor of the deck, some had set up rustic hammocks, whilst others continued to wander the floor.

“In my quarters,” Hange stated as if it was obvious, “Unless you’d prefer to sleep next to that lot,” They pointed at the others, crewmates who slept on their stools with their heads resting on their arms placed on the brim of the ship. The expression on Hange’s face made it clear that they were mocking you, perfectly aware of how you would not prefer that option.

“I fear my spine would crumble,” You jested, your lie blatant.

“Come,” They nudged their head towards the stern of the ship, where the Captain’s private quarters were. Hange’s comfortable room with all the fascinating oddities. You’d much prefer sleeping there, you thought.

Following, Hange led you back to their space, all things considered, you felt rather guarded there. Strangely safe and sound. Something tugged at your mind that Hange wouldn’t stand for anything to happen to you, not even for you specifically— Hange’s crew appeared quite companionable, you attributed that to their leader. You wondered how far those pleasantries extended, what acts of horror were allowed and which were not.

Closing the door behind them, Hange hung up their outer coat on its peg, rolling their shoulders as a minor stretch. Bringing their hands up to the back of their neck, rubbing the tender muscle atop their skin.

You stood, clutching your elbows under crossed arms. The silence in the cabin contrasted the raucous crew outside, some still sparring.

“Was that moonshine?” Your voice broke through the quiet, looking towards the jar of liquid Hange had brought you as 'provisions'. "No, it's grog," "Grog?" "Rum and water," Pulling a face, you continued.

"Is it good?" "Not really, but we don't drink it for its taste." Nodding, you picked up the jar, inspecting. "Did you make it?" Hange scoffed, smirking to themselves, their arms coming to cross over their chest, "It's far easier to steal from merchant ships, they're always overloaded with stock," "I see."

"I think I would like to try it," Hange raised their eyebrows at you, a playful look struck their features. "Oh?" They continued, "I brought it for you, thought you might need a little pick-me-up, have at it."

Uncorking the jar, the aroma of the liquor invaded your senses. "It smells strong," Hange nodded, watching with a devilish face as you brought the rim to your lips. After a gulp, you couldn't hold back a cough as the force of the harsh drink burned through your throat, your lips twisting and your eyebrows squeezing together. "That's revolting," "Yeah, it's pretty bad," Hange laughed, grabbing the jar from you and taking a bigger gulp for themselves, passing it back to you. Truly, you don't know what possessed you to take another sip, but it became easier to tolerate.

A few half hours passed, and you had placed yourself on Hange's wicker couch, your bed for the foreseeable. Arms wrapped around your legs which pressed to your chest. You were definitely feeling the effects of the liquor, tolerance much lower than Hange's, who sat on the floor beside the couch. Feeling far more relaxed, your tongue was a tad looser, speaking to and asking Hange questions you would've otherwise probably not asked. Truthfully, you were curious, there was a lot you wished to learn about them. When you first met Hange, you expected a lot of things, you didn't anticipate them being quite as respectful and honourable towards you as they were. There was more to them than what was seen on the surface, you wanted to see what lay deeper.

"But why? Why do you choose to live a life of piracy? Wouldn't it be far safer to live on land?" "Not everyone is lucky enough to be born atop riches, that's an irregular gift given only to a few," Hange spoke, their words thoughtful despite having drank even more than you, "Life at sea is more forgiving than the hardships on land." "Yes, but... there must be something else, even with the hardships at land?

"No offence, my lady," Pausing, "What would you know of hardship on land? My father worked his hardest, damn near broke his back, just to be cheated and stripped of his dignity by the greed of others." Looking down at your knees, a pull of guilt struck, knowing that it was because of people like you, and your father.

"This was his way of ensuring his own future, on his own terms and not under the boot of the wealthy who build their livelihoods on the backs of others." Hange sighed, taking another sip of grog, "At least on the sea, what you see is what you get, fight for what you want and share the rewards. It's not the most honest work, yes, but it's far more honest than those sitting in ivory towers clicking their fingers for anything they desire."

You watched as Hange spoke, their words were true, honest reflections of everything they stood for. Pirate or not, Hange had more substance than you'd ever encountered in anyone else in your life. More than those who coat their words with sugar, kissing up to their higher-ups all for a sliver of what they had.

Hange passed you the jar, and you swallowed another sip, barely tasting the alcohol by this point. This was the first you had heard of Hange's family. "I understand that," you hummed, "I've always thought it unfair, why others are seen as less based on menial things such as money. I suppose my father was my introduction to that, a part of me has always despised him."

"I wondered why you came with me so willingly, though if I had your father I would probably have been similar." Laughing, you nodded, "Truthfully, I have felt disillusioned from my life, perhaps I wanted something refreshing, a different way of being."

"Besides, you intrigued me, I find you fascinating," Your words slipped out, the grog having seriously impacted your inhibitions. Hange's eyes met yours, impish and deviant. The edge of their lip quipped up, delightfully amused. "Is that right, my lady?" They leaned their weight on their right hand that was pressed against the cabin floor, as their left remained hanging off the leg they had propped up. Your skin burned underneath their gaze, and you found that your tongue shattered. Unable to respond, all you could do was meet their half-lidded stare, thunder in your chest, as it lifted up and down. Shit. "I think that's enough grog for you, princess,"

Breaking contact, you pointed at Hange's shelves, to where their collection lay, clearing your throat before speaking. "Like your collection, it-it's fascinating, I wish I could've grabbed mine," You deflected, altering the matter, anything to stop the thunder in your chest and remember yourself. Anything to stop the blaze before it spread far beyond control.

"When we set sail, you can start a new collection." They softened, "One with all the new plants you'll see,"

—

You felt like shit the following morning. Head thumping with each movement, you could only sit on one of the benches with your hands holding up the weight. "Grog fever?" Sasha's teasing voice rang out through your ears, "Been there."

"This is awful," "First time?" "Obviously," You rubbed your eyes, as Sasha lightly patted you on the back, "You'll survive,"

Two presences joined you and Sasha at your bench, one was shorter with black hair, and the other stood upright, with scraggly blonde hair. "This is Levi, he's the First Mate, pretty much Hange's second in command," Sasha spoke, introducing you, "Don't mind him, he's a bit of an ass." "The other is Reiner, also a bit of an ass," She giggled, finding entertainment within herself.

Levi nodded at you, a silent greeting which you didn't mind as listening and speaking were already hard enough with the thumping in your head. Reiner looked at you, before pulling his hand out to meet yours. "Lovely to meet such a beautiful lady," He declared, eyes scouring down your body, "I'm looking forward to having you aboard," His words reeked with flirtation, his cold eyes geeking you out, discomfiting, not like the handsome brown ones you melted into yesterday.

Almost as if reading your mind, Hange appeared, they had left the ship this morning, as apparently, they had some errands to run. Hange set their hands on Reiner's shoulders, carrying an indistinct countenance. "Reiner, I have matters to discuss, come," They spoke, before walking a few steps ahead, waiting for him near the stern, arms crossed.

"Coming, captain," Reiner followed their lead, you kept glancing over to them as Sasha picked up chatter with Levi. You were straining your ears to catch snippets of their conversation, a little difficult over Sasha's voice in front of you, the little you could make out came from Hange: Not this one.

As you switched your attention back to the table, wondering what the hell that was about, you had just bypassed Sasha's looking towards you, her brows crinkling and face pulling into a look of recognition. Huh, she thought, how about that?

—

As the day passed, the time to set sail was nearing, planned for sometime within the next two days depending on supplies and readiness. Apprehension was harder to ignore, you thought about what your father was currently doing, and his reaction upon discovering you had not been in your chambers the following morning. Mulling, you cackled to yourself, clasping your hand over your mouth to mask the giggles as the gravity of what you had done struck you. Never did you imagine your life to end up in this way.

Hange entered their quarters, hanging up their coat, "What's so funny?" " "I just can't believe what I'm doing," your laughter settled down, breathing returning to standard as Hange placed themselves next to you on the wicker couch. "Yeah? You 'n me, both," They chuckled, pausing, "Hey, uh- I wanted to give you this,"

You studied them, catching a modest element of hesitation on Hange that you weren't familiar with seeing. Hange handed you a book, of beautifully bound brown leather, the spine stitching exposed with light-coloured thread. "What is this for?" "You left your notes behind, so this is for your new collection," You gaped at them, prompting Hange to continue, "For all the new plants you'll see and learn about,"

Wordless, you looked between Hange and the book in your hands, feeling the skin at your cheeks heating up. "Hange, this is- thank you, so much," Nodding, Hange steeled, standing themselves up, nearing the door before speaking, "The shantyman is going to play for a while, the crew loves him, so you don't wanna miss it," It was customary for ships to bring musicians. They'd sing songs and play tunes to boost morale amongst the crew, to carry them through the harrowing nights, and oftentimes even spread their hopes for some romance. You definitely wanted to witness it, Hange held the cabin door open for you as you both made your way to the deck.

The musician was doing his thing, leading the crew in song, banging a drum as melodies rang through the vessel. You noticed Sasha dancing with the crewmembers. It was a little overwhelming, the events you had attended at court were much milder and reserved than this, uppity, really. People would rarely dance, it was almost taboo. This was far distant from that, it was fun, delightful even—almost hedonistic in style.

You weren’t quite sure how to join yourself with them, the dances varying from person to person made it hard to fall into a step. Hange noticed your hesitance, before clasping your hand and pulling you towards them. Their hand resting upon your waist, drawing you tighter as they moved into a dance. The air in your lungs tripped over itself, shortening your breath. Stomach pressed against stomach.

Looking up at them, Hange donned a smug smile, higher up on one side of their mouth as it hung from their lips.

“Dance with me, princess,” Hange hummed, their voice lowered. There came the thunder in your chest again, the blaze was spreading.

“I’ve told you to not address me like that,” You whispered, the contention you planned on executing in your voice was nowhere near where you had planned. Instead, it was mild, for fear that would fumble over your own words, as your tongue shattered once again.

“I can’t help it,” They grinned, skimming over your flustered appearance. You don’t know what kind of sorcery Hange held, what alluring magnetism in their blood drew you to them. You felt yourself begin to melt into their tempting gaze, as you blinked.

“Careful, don’t look at me like that or I might begin to get the wrong idea,” Hange’s head sank towards your neck, your breath hitched. Their proximity was intoxicating, you found you couldn’t bear the weight of it. Pulling yourself away from Hange, you rushed to the cabin, pushing open the door and letting yourself inside.

Letting out a bulky breath, your face was burning up, body temperature way over standard as you rested your hands on Hange’s desk. Clamouring to compose yourself. Hange knocked at the door, before entering. Shutting your eyes, you remained still.

“You okay?” Ignoring them, you relented in your stance. The tension in the room increased, heart pulsing as you heard their footsteps reach close.

“I think I have fever,” You mumbled, Hange was right behind you now. You could feel their warmth reaching your back.

“Stand and face me, dear,” An assertive hand maintained at your waist, turning your body toward them Hange held down your gaze, keeping their hand in its place, squeezing. “This is no fever,”

Their free hand came to meet your jaw, thumb ghosting over the soft skin. Hange lowered their head towards you, their face so near, your sanity was in a thick haze, heavy and clouded. "I can see the dark in your eyes, my lady," Hange hummed, relishing in the glaze in your eyes, at the darkness pooling in your pupils as you glimmered up at them, eyes doe and lips plump from biting. The heat from their voice raised your skin, touring down your spine as an ache between your thighs pulsed.

Hange's lips brushed against the velvety flesh at the base of your neck, tentative. You shivered as you felt their lips leave delicate kisses, hand tightening around your waist. You shut your eyes, reeling in the sensation as Hange's igniting touch drew shaky breaths. Thighs clenched together as their lips reached the base of your ear, teeth tugging at the skin. You whimpered, as Hange's hands grabbed at the top of your thighs, just underneath the curve of your ass as they directed you to the top of the desk. Placing themselves between your thighs, before whispering, "Will you indulge me, dear?" With another kiss on your ear, you crumbled, arms wrapping around Hange's neck as your legs folded around their waist.

"Please, Hange, I can't bear it," You panted, core clenching around nothing, as desperation took over. Hange sighed, hearing their name fall from your lips as your body trembled was a sight to behold. Their lips finally landed on yours, tongue pushing into your mouth. Quivering hands grabbed at the back of their head, tightening around Hange's hair, trying to release the buildup of tension in your bones.

Lips broke apart, "Do you know what it does me seeing you wear my clothes?" Voice impassioned, almost hoarse. The hand at your hip moved to the catches at your shirt, reminiscent of the way they grazed your skin that day. Undoing the catches, your abdomen and breasts exposed, goosebumps forming from the sudden coolness of the air. Hange observed as your stomach jerked, smirking as they watched how your body responded. Hand slipping in between the open fabric, meeting the bare skin as you gasped before the shirt slid off your shoulders and onto the cabin floor.

Hange whined at your revealed skin and dishevelled state, the most disordered they had seen you. Their hand cupped your breast, watching as your lips parted and the sweetest cries escaped. Fingers stroking at your hardened nipples, as your pants were slowly being dragged down your legs. Your hips squirmed as Hange went on their knees, head just at the top of your shins. One hand still massaged your nipple whilst the other was around your ankle, holding your leg in place as they lapped their tongue up the skin, retaining steady eye contact. As their tongue reached your inner thigh, your head hung back, and you bit back choked whimpers, hips jolting with anticipation.

"Hange," you rasped, squeezing your thighs around their head, your nails coming to meet the top of the back, "Yes, my dear?" "Please," you pleaded, you had already come this far, you needed to feel it through, you could barely sit up, losing strength in your back. "Patience, sweetheart,"

Fingers left your breasts and made their way to the hem of your underwear. Hange bit their lip at the line of the dampness that had seeped through the thin fabric. "Fuck," they mumbled, tugging the material down where it remained hanging at your ankles, so dishevelled, so messy.

The tips of Hange’s slender fingers reached your dripping heat, arousal covering your thighs as they ghosted sensual touches over your warm slit, puffed and leaking. Thighs tensing as the feeling released itself as strangled whines. Hange was obsessed, exhilarated by the sweet sounds that left your dear lips.

“Fuck, Hange,” Hips rolling into their fingers, pressing closer for more touch, chasing the sensation as it came, "That feels fucking good," "Such rotten language," Hange taunted, the tip of their finger burying into your soaking entrance, stretching the silky walls, “Looks like I’ve been a bad influence,”

Leaving a few more kisses on your thigh, Hange stood back up to reconnect your lips, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. The kiss successfully distracted you, as more fingers entered, slowly rocking into your flesh, as bliss overtook the initial sting. Hips began to tilt, grinding against the pressure. The sounds leaving you were indecent, vulgar, as Hange augmented the pace, rocking their fingers into you. Suddenly you were glad for the singing out in the deck, obscuring the noise within the cabin. Your head fell into their neck, whining as you could only sit there and take it. Fingers stuffing your swollen centre, pressing against the squishy barriers.

The muscles in your abdomen tensed, clenching around Hange's fingers as your hips buckled. "That's it, dear, you're taking it so, so well," Your eyebrows pinched together, voice escaping you, "Taking me like such a good girl,". Hange spoke, voice purring. That was the nail in the coffin; the honey in their words, the strain in their voice as you felt your release shattering through you. Hips convulsed as your arousal spilled all over Hange's fingers, grabbing their shoulders for support. A few more pumps and Hange removed their fingers, looking down at your clenching hole at the trickling cum, their hand completely drenched.

Hange kissed you, before you broke away and uttered words that led Hange to understand they could never have their fill, "More, please," you begged, voice breathy and whiny as you tightened your legs around their waist. Chuckling, endeared Hange responded, "My, my, dear, you're truly filthy."

Hange moved themselves down to your pussy, still swollen despite its release. With a quick glance back towards you, cheeks flustered and eyes black. Desire tensed your features as your chest heaved up and down, breasts exposed and legs spread, quaking. Such a heavenly sight.

A touch over your slit, Hange spat on your folds, the sight eliciting languid moans from you. It truly was filthy. Pussy clenching with desperation as it grazed you, spreading down your slit with the weight of gravity. Hange pressed their tongue against it, carelessly lapping up the cum that had been leaking out of you. Frenzied guttural groans liberated into your centre as they sucked, the vibrations left you reeling as your hand came to clasp your breast, kneading. Trailing over your own nipple, Hange was not about to accept that, slapping your hand away and rolling their fingers over the bud.

Overstimulation left you choking, tears spilling from your lids as Hange worked their warm tongue over your sensitive folds, drinking in the saltiness as one hand played with your nipple and the other ghosted over your opening. Thighs tightened around their head, cutting off Hange's air supply as you rutted your hips over their face, pushing yourself closer against their tongue. Nose nudging over your clit as their head bounced against you.

“Hange, fuck— I’m, mhm- I’m gonna cum, please let me come,” You babbled, stammering. Needy. You took them in, nose, chin and cheeks wet from your arousal, saliva running down; their eyebrows pulled together with determination and eyes rolling with indulgence, as if you were the tastiest meal they ever had. The taught restraint you had carried your entire life totally dissipated as you surrendered to Hange’s command over your body. Fingers filling into you, knuckles deep, rubbing over the squishy flesh. The added penetration forced out the second catharsis, sucking Hange in as you released over their face, tainting their glasses.

Resting your back on the desk, breaths heavy as you came down from whatever entity had possessed you. Panting. You covered your face with your hands, as your clandestine actions struck you. The drunken, indecent impropriety you fell into and enjoyed.

“No use being bashful now, my lady,” They teased, dragging away the hands that obscured your face. Grabbing your face, reconnecting your lips with gentle touches. Kisses so tender you couldn’t find it within yourself to see anything wrong.

How could something so honeyed be perverse?

—

um yeah, this is my application to hell…

The yakuza’s wife part II  ➢ Toji x pregnant chubby f! reader

wc: 2k/15 minute read

cw: Smut, Somnophilia, Pregnancy sex, Slight Praise

part I

It didn’t take long for toji to impregnate you, helping you along every step of the way. Once it became your 2nd trimester you went for your check up, sadden that toji wasn’t able to attend, but you snagged another ultrasound photo to show him the progress.

He was there to pick you up, pulling up in a all black tinted car, stepping out to open the door for you.

“How’s the baby, is everything alright?”

You pull out the ultrasound, swaying the photo back and forth in your hands.

“Everything’s good! I just can’t wait to find out what we’re having when it’s time.”

Toji pulls you into his arms, gripping you by the ass as he pulls you in, kissing your forehead.

“I already know.”

Keep reading