Surrender To The Sea, Hange Zoë
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…
More Posts from Jupiteralexandra and Others
go ahead n post that feet + kat post… i support u… i stand with you…
politely, baby (3.7k)
bakugou katsuki x f!reader
“i know you, you never buy furniture without thinking how to fuck on it first.” or you buy a new hammock and you’re both curious to know what can be done on it
cw: minors dni. fem!reader. established relationship. feet. katsuki sucks, licks, kisses your feet. all sweet n soft. fingering. kissing. he embarrasses you over it. outdoors in your private garden in a hammock. calls you a whore affectionately. kinda brat reader/brat tamer bkg.
a/n: the beloved foot fic. i hope this meets all your standards and if it doesn’t that’s not my problem lmao also if this is the first fic of mine you’ve read please know feet isn’t a common occurrence in my fics !!! THE PEOPLE WERE BEGGING ME AND WHO AM I TO DENY THEM ??? but also saying that, if you don’t think feet are your thing… have a go you might be surprised hehe
you 3:21pm: what r u up to????
you 3:21pm: my hammock came! the delivery guy carried it into the garden it was so fucking heavy
you 3:21pm: i need help from a big strong man to help me build it :( can you refer me to any?
katsuki rubbed his hand across his stubbled chin in amusement. he knew your little text message was code for please can you help me build this new piece of furniture i bought because i cannot be bothered to even try and i will start crying if i can’t find a screw and will start to sweat after one minute of labour.
If it was anybody else, he’d send them a sweet ‘do it yourself’ and be on with his day. but he’s talking to you and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if you asked. he also enjoys building shit, makes him feel all strong and masculine in-front you with a permanent reminder of what he did in your home.
katsuki 3:23pm: Ask politely baby
you 3:23pm: please can i borrow you and your big strong muscles to help build my hammock?
you 3:33pm: reward will be: kisses and takeout :)
katsuki was already on his way to you after your first message.
the summer breeze was light through your garden as the sun beamed down at you both. your favourite type of weather. it wasn’t too hot that you were dripping buckets or that the sun stubbornly glared in your face. instead, it was the right weather for shorts, sunglasses and a tank top as you suck on the straw to your lemonade, staring down at your boyfriend building furniture by hand.
the sight was a dream. your summer playlist floated in the background out your speaker as you laid back in your deck chair, book cast aside on your mini table as katsuki perched cross-legged on the grass in his black crocs, navy shorts and white tank top. he was currently glancing between the paper instructions and two metal poles he was holding. he had a look of contentment on his features with a black thin headband to hold back his blonde locks to reveal his forehead and his dark sharp brows relaxed as he starts to screw something to something. you’ve got no clue.
“why d’you even need a hammock? you’ve got a working chair right there?”
the male flicks his head up to look at you, his biceps tensing as his wrist flicks to turn his screwdriver. you’re fixated by the action until you remember he asked you a question.
“who doesn’t want a hammock? and we can both fit in this one. we can’t fit on one of these.”
“yeah, we can if i’m on top of you. we can’t fuck like that in a hammock, your ass will be topplin’ out,” he chuckles to himself, ruby eyes twinkling when he takes in your pout.
“my ass will only be falling out if you build it wrong and who said it’s for fucking? can’t i want to sit with you in my garden?” you cross your arms across your chest.
“i know you, you never buy furniture without thinking how to fuck on it first.” his sharp toothy grin melts through your lower half like the ice cubes in your lemonade.
your eyes narrow, okay yes it did ponder through your mind for a minute before pressing purchase. then you figured, you can both work it out once it’s built. “don’t make me sound like a pervert. whatever we decide to do on it depends on you making it.”
now, you stand beside katsuki who snaps a shot of his newest creation: your hammock. the thick white and grey striped fabric hangs curved from two very stable pillars of wood. it’s cute, matches the aesthetic of your garden completely and as the sun casts its golden glow down on it you’re eager to jump in. but first you reward your boyfriend.
lightly, you push katsuki’s arm holding his phone down, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his cheek, then on the corner of his lips then a sweet peck on the centre of his lips. your hand finds home at his chin and he blinks almost languidly down at you, a small smile sneaking onto his cheeks, “you like it?”
you nod, biting down on your lip, “just like amazon said. five stars for easy assembly. thanks ‘ki.”
katsuki chuckles, “let’s not rate it five stars yet. let’s see how it actually manages.”
you both stare at the hammock questioningly before katsuki’s hand on your waist slides down to smack at your bum.
“c’mon princess hop in.” with a literal jolt forward, you run your finger along the fabric, wondering if it would be actually able to even take your weight.
with a hesitant frown, you turn to face your boyfriend to sit down on the fabric, your legs swinging off the edge, “okay, first step complete.”
katsuki chuckles, “now swing your legs in.”
you swing your legs over to lay on the stretch of fabric. this thing could definitely hold you, katsuki too. a smile slides onto your face, even a little gasp.
“it actually works!” you screech, face peeping out from the fabric. then you hold your arms up, “come get in too, ki!”
katsuki grunts, mentally analysing how to slide in. he does what you did, sitting on the edge and shifting his hips almost gracefully at the other end of the hammock so he’s facing you. it was comfortable. more comfortable than you thought laying in swinging fabric would be. you felt like you were cocooned, wrapped up like a caterpillar and warm with your boyfriend laying under you.
after some shuffling, he lifts you to rest between his legs with your legs on top of his chest and your feet on his pecs.
“yuck, get your feet off me!” you whine, flicking his big toe that was dangerously close to your face by your shoulders.
“nothin’ wrong with my feet. i should be sayin’ that about your gremlins right in front of my face.”
you wiggle your feet that sit on his pectorals, even poking his cheek with your toe. “now we both know you’re lying. my feet are cute, admit it.”
two big callous hands grip your feet, thumbs massaging the sole of your foot. katsuki’s always been good at massages, one of the many reasons why you keep him around. every touch is enough to lull you to a sweet slumber, soft moans sliding through your lips.
“guess they’re not that bad,” he grumbles and you know he’s still lying. there’s not a thing about you he finds bad, let alone your feet.
“that feels good,” you moan, snuggling back into your hammock and gravity dragging your eyelids shut. his touch feels like heaven, rubbing strains and knots you didn’t even realise you had, out. you’re unbelievably comfortable with the soft breeze cooling you down and the familiarity of his rising chest under your legs.
all until you feel a completely different sensation on your toe. alarmed, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend with the tiny limb in his mouth. coated in his spit and warm in the wet cave of his mouth. his tongue swiped across the soft pad of your toe before suctioning his cheeks and sucking. really sucking like he would between your legs. you grip his leg beside you for stability.
“what are you doing?” you ask surprised, voice careful and quiet as if you couldn’t figure out if you liked it or not. bakugou doesn’t reply. but he does level you with an amused stare, reading the confusion in your eyes. his left eyebrow raises as he mimics a baby with a dummy.
his tongue swirls around the gaps between your toes, the sensation making you twitch before adding two extra toes and giving a big suck again. “katsuki— ahh mhm.” your hand flies to your mouth with the confirmation that you do enjoy your toes getting sucked. you don’t need to guess to know the rush of heat through your body is due to this and not the summer heat. even the gush of wetness between your legs feels embarrassingly misplaced.
but you don’t pull your foot away. you sit in your horniness, zoning in on his pink lips around you, his big calloused palms still rubbing the pad of your foot by the heel. and lastly, his narrow ruby eyes watch for every little reaction your body makes. every suck you could vividly feel on your clit. your breathing hitches.
with a hand on his calf, “why does this feel good?”
loudly with a pop, katsuki takes your toes out of his mouth to run the tip of his tongue from the heel of your foot to the top. the wet muscle is stupidly ticklish on you, making you wiggle in his hold but he doesn’t let you budge.
“stop wrigglin’,” he growls against your skin, giving you a tiny nip before pressing wet kisses all over you. he combines it with nibbles with his teeth and his full lips sucking on the side where your foot curves. your breathing is heavy, all this attention on your feet is something you’ve never done before with anybody. your heartbeat is between your legs, begging for attention from the pretty blonde before you.
then he pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand from the connecting spit. the grin katsuki gives you is the final knock in the nail for you; the cockiest, toothiest grin yet. “knew you’d like gettin’ your toes sucked.”
you frown, crossing your arms over your chest, to calm your desire to be touched in other places, “didn’t think you’d like sucking toes. i’ve been walking barefoot on the grass.”
katsuki chuckles and your frown wavers as your heart melts when he presses soft kisses along your toes. “you’ve been wearing your sandals the whole time and even if you weren’t shits fine with me when it’s you.”
“when it’s me?”
he scoffs like you’re stupid, “you’re mad if you think i’m putting anyone else’s toes in my mouth.”
you shrug smugly, uncrossing your arms again to run your fingers up his leg beside you.
“so are we gonna find out if this hammock can take us?” he asks, back to rubbing your feet with a curious stare.
you bend your knee to nudge the heel of your foot against his semi in his shorts. you stifle a giggle as his features relax momentarily, “why’re you hard?”
“you were lookin’ at me like i was some god for suckin’ your fuckin’ feet.” and without any warning, katsuki sits up and drags you by your thighs so your back rests on his knees and thighs.
“s’pretty from this angle,” he mumbles lowly in the most lovestruck voice you could imagine. he brushes stray hairs off your face affectionately, even smoothing out your eyebrows with his thumbs and then pecking your forehead.
you laugh shyly with his undivided attention, though with katsuki there’s always an opportunity to talk back to him, “you saying i’m ugly from other angles?”
“of course. it’s not like i call you beautiful daily, at all times, is it?” he scoffs, but katsuki is completely enamoured by you. licking his lips as his eyes flick to each of your features. eyes to your nose to your lips. hands running down your sides and squeezing.
“don’t look at me like that because i’m not about to kiss your foot mouth,” you warn, though he leans closer to you anyway, knowing full well you’ll let him do anything. you rest your arms on the junction between his neck and shoulders, easily smiling at the smirk plastered on his face.
“you’re not?” he raises his eyebrows, completely entertained by you as he manhandles you by your hips, dragging you further down his lap so you can feel the press of his cock against your centre when he leans over you.
you whimper, trying to blink the desire out your eyes, “no, that’s disgusting.”
one pout of his lips and he’s touching yours. “mhm? i think you are though, baby. i think you—,”
if anyone asks you only kissed him so he shuts up. one hand on the back of his head as you push him onto your lips. he angles his head to the left as you move to the right, tongues licking against each other’s like you haven’t tasted each other in years. you caress his stubbled cheek, loud gulps as you try to take everything he gives you.
katsuki is slick with it. nibbling at your lips and sucking on your tongue as he slowly pulls away. you chase after him but when he finally lets go. then you flop back onto his knees, a breathtaking smile landing on your face.
you’re intoxicated by the man, cheeks all hot and your hair decorates his legs angelically. you make him want to scream. “what’s the plan, loverboy?”
he takes hold of your leg, straightening it out by his head. he speaks against your knee, lips brushing against your skin, “gonna take care of you. that good with you?” his ruby pupils hold your eyes, love swimming in them like lava in a volcano.
bakugou doesn’t stop his worship there, he bends your leg towards you, knee by your head as he takes hold of your foot. it can barely count as a kiss as he brushes his lips across the bottom of your foot, so soft that whenever he presses a kiss you feel a rush of wetness between your legs.
“that feels good, ‘ki,” you whisper, eyes wide and glossy as he keeps your eyes locked on him. staring into you like you’d be a fool to look away.
he knows exactly what you mean by that, sweeter words to say that he’s making you horny right now. he grins into the new kisses before stretching out your leg and placing butterfly pecks down it. he’s loud with the smacks, every duck of his head, he keeps his eyes on your face. your pretty lips are parted, dying to rake your hands through his hair. then he begins to navigate south, kisses passing down your ankle to your calves to your knee to your thighs then—
“want me to touch your pussy?” in a deep growl as his nose brushes against your clothed centre.
your breath hitches in your throat, your head nodding impatiently.
“obviously.”
katsuki sinks his teeth into your thigh, a little bite when you yelp. “no manners, huh? reply properly or i’ll push you off this hammock.”
you roll your eyes in humour, a smile creeping onto your face at the twinkle in his eye. “please touch me, my love.”
katsuki only gives you a little, rubbing his thumb on the outside of your shorts, “this good enough?”
you bite down on your bottom lip. it’s not nearly enough. “no, i want you to take them off.”
he gives you a narrowed stare, “please! i want you to take them off please.”
with an understanding nod, katsuki helps you shuffle out of your shorts, throwing them on the grass below you and immediately moaning at the sight between your legs.
“fuck baby. this all for me?” and you’re nodding before you can help it.
nothing about you will ever become tiring to the man. seeing you again, your outer lips all shiny with wetness, spreading you apart with two fingers with your cute little bud at the top and your sweet hole pulsating desperately around nothing. he’s just been making out with your feet.
“all for you katsuki.”
you make sure to pronounce every syllable of his name with perfection. he reacts almost feral, pupils becoming dark and his hold on you tighter like he’ll never let you out of his sight.
he holds out two fingers at your lips and obediently you lay out your tongue for him to place them on. then you suck, licking around them like you would his dick before he slowly pulls them out a rough chuckle from his chest. “such a whore babe.”
you pout, locking your legs around katsuki’s waist, only opening your legs more. “i’m only doing what you’re telling me t— fuhh, fuck katsuki.”
you throw your head back on his legs as mid-sentence katsuki thrusts his freshly sucked fingers into your wet hole. he slides right in, curling his fingers up and rubbing your soft spot. your back arches, grumbles and garbles leaving your lips.
“didn’t say it was a bad thing. you’re my lil whore. you love every fuckin’ thing i do to you.” you’re not disagreeing with him, you’re not able to as your fingers circle his wrist between your legs now pumping in and out noisily like you would a toy.
“oh fuckkk ‘ki,” you whine, eyes squeezed shut, features all mushed on your face. your thighs tremble relentlessly around katsuki’s waist, hips thrusting up to meet his fingers. you’re needy, desperate and begging for more. “katsuki.”
katsuki smirks, fingers thrusting faster and faster, his palm pressing on your stomach to keep you down on his lap, “you want somethin’ else, baby? somethin’ you wanna ask me for?”
you mewl like a cat, hands out grabbing for anything of him you can hold onto. “my clit, rub me.”
katsuki pinches your ass, stuffing you full with his fingers and not moving. you open your eyes to stare at your lover who stares back with his eyebrows raised. “why’d you stop?”
“ask politely, baby. really need to sort out your manners,” he tuts, slapping the squish of your thigh beside him. katsuki’s completely humoured by you. your soft pouting bottom lip, so sweet and kissable. your eyes are almost watering from the tight tension in your pussy and there’s a layer of sweat on your forehead from the heat and him.
“please touch my clit, n—need you so bad,” you shuffle up and down his legs, humping his hand that refuses to move. still he doesn’t, his thumb only lightly brushing your puffy bud. you gasp but it does nothing to soothe the building in your stomach, “katsuki, stop teasing. please.”
your pleading turns katsuki’s grin animalistic, his cock tightening around his waistband. “good job baby, my cute lil whore. can’t believe your pussy’s wet just from me suckin’ your toes. your fuckin’ toes baby.”
katsuki restarts, pumping his fingers into your centre as he uses his other one to rub fast circles onto your clit. you whine in embarrassment, “stop saying that.”
“what? you got wet because i sucked your toes? you like my lips suckin’ your toes like i do your cute lil clit?” katsuki taunts and every word only makes the knot tighten in your stomach.
you moan at his words, clawing for his arm as your bend your head to watch his drenched fingers enter in and out of you. you bite your lip, wetness gushing out of you at just the sight. “k-katsuki, oh my god i love you.”
katsuki chuckles, rough and rumbly, ducking down to press a kiss against your chin. “good girl, love you too baby. come for me now, yeah?”
it’s as if the words set off a switch inside of you, “s—slow down i’m gonna—,”
you come faster than you even expect, your back is in the air, fingers tight around his wrist and you’re whining at the wet visceral sound of the friction him inside you. “oh, uhf, mhm,” tumble out your lips as the knot in your stomach snaps. stars shoot behind your eyelids as sparks shoot down all your limbs, numbing them as they spasm around katsuki.
“c’mon baby, let it all out,” he soothes, working you through it. his fingers keep curling against your walls, his thumb clockwise on your bud. he keeps going, pecking kisses along your chin till you push his arm out.
“t—too much now,” you’re breathless, chest heaving and flicking your eyes up to the blue sky.
you’re hardly ready for a conversation when katsuki says, “good going on the hammock. it’s comfortable, i can finger you and suck your toes.” katsuki hums before taking his two fingers slicked in your wetness into his mouth.
you lazily knock your knee against his arm, you’re trying to blink back to reality, rubbing your eyes with your fist, “laugh at me all you want but you’re the one that enjoyed my feet in your mouth. says more about you than me, honey.”
katsuki shrugs, embarrassment is always rare to find on him. “i don’t care though baby. would do it again, even loved when you rubbed me with your foot.”
your eyebrows raise at his confession. he wipes his wet fingers on his shorts nonchalantly, massaging your thighs as you slowly sit up to face him.
“why y’lookin’ at me like that?”
“you’re really into foot stuff, aren’t you?” you smile mischievously, placing his hands on your bare hips. you tilt your head and you take back what you said before, embarrassment isn’t rare to find on your lover. in fact, he just uses it against you when it’s really about himself.
the tips of his ears flush red and his bottom lip juts out as he grumbles, “you’ve just got cute feet. same way i like your hands, i like your feet.”
that excuse doesn’t save him, “would you like me to give you a foot job? like a hand job but instead my feet—,”
with a sigh, he puts his hand on your mouth to silence you. your eyes only widen, cheeks rising beneath his hand. he pecks your forehead at the same time you lick his palm.
both of your hands circle his wrist and his hand slides off your face, “so would you? a foot job?”
again he shrugs, lifting you by the ass to sit on his cock. he pecks your lips, rubbing his nose against yours. “wouldn’t mind, baby. i mean we could try it?”
you’re nodding like a bobblehead, “i’ve watched a porn of it before, i think i’d have good technique…”
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.”
surrender to the sea, hange zoë (pt. II)
pairing: pirate captain!hange x noble!reader, they/them pronouns used for hange—afab anatomy for both
summary: your father’s shady business deals with a pirate crew lead to collateral damage.
pt. i here : (x)
warnings: explicit sexual content - 18+, minors dni. poc friendly!! hange is a freak, r is SO down bad (same), jealous!hange, knifeplay, bloodplay, r calls hange captain, cunnilingus h!receiving, fingering r!receiving, corruption kink if u squint.., praise.
wc: 3.5k
an: i got a bit crazy forgive me
—
Hange nudged their head into your neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin as you came to wake up. After the events of last night, Hange led you to their bed, where you'd both spent the night. It'd be a little cruel to leave you sleeping on that wicker couch, after all.
You struggled sleeping for a while, your actions having kept you up awake as your mind mulled. Hints of shame and confusion tugged at your heart, wrapping its cruel tendrils around your mind.
You were in two minds, one— it didn't matter, you'd be leaving with Hange's ship soon enough, likely to never to see your father or anyone at court again so really, feeling shame was futile. However, its lingering effects tugged on, you hadn't regretted it, not in the slightest, actually. You just wondered if this was a smart decision. If you should have given yourself away so freely and carelessly to someone like Hange. Yet, you couldn't stop thinking of them, the way their hands trailed down so tenderly down your body, the way their fingers had felt on your skin. It was exhilarating.
Morning eased the turmoil, once you took notice of the way the warm sunlight that creeped through the port window reflected on Hange's skin. The light emphasising the brown shades in their hair that shone with deep reds, the amber in their gentle eyes as they gazed up at you, head resting on the thin pillow. Hange's shirt was off, having been thrown to the cabin floor in the midst of their sleep, the skin of their shoulders exposed as the rest was hidden beneath the covers.
Dangerous waters had already been tread, was there any return at this point?
"We leave tomorrow," Hange spoke, voice breaking through the silence of the night. You nodded, a buzz in your veins as you'd finally get to live a life of your own choosing.
Sighing, Hange lifted themselves up, rubbing their eyes before reaching for the glasses they'd set on the wooden table. You watched as they pulled the straps over their hair, resting the goggles into place on the bridge of their nose, before your eyes trailed down to their exposed torso.
You hadn't seen them like this yesterday, the clothing had remained on, so you took the opportunity to look admire them, properly. Noticing marks and scarring scattered over their toned arms and across their shoulder blades, probably due to fighting, you assumed. Your ventures stopped at their chest, releasing memories from the night before, heat washed over your cheeks. You had never seen another naked body besides your own, and Hange was ravishing, toned, slender and muscled, their abdomen tight and their breasts modest.
They caught you staring before speaking,
"Like what you see?"
"I didn't get a chance to look at you yesterday, it's not fair you saw me that way yet I could not see you,"
"There's lots of time for that yet, my lady," Hange grinned, you noticed a hint of a blush on their cheeks. At least you weren't feeling coy all by yourself.
"What shall you do about my father?" You questioned, uncertain.
"I have yet to decide," They spoke, a part of them wondering if it was punishment enough to leave without words, let him simmer in the loss of his riches and connections, or to confront him. Truth is, Hange didn't want to risk you back in his tight clutches, tethered to a life of disappointing misery. The weight of their own selfishness fighting the urge of justice for their crew. A heavy burden, indeed.
"He can rot with the fishes for all I care,"
—
You were on the decks, in a frivolous attempt to pull your own weight. You wanted to help, just didn't really know how. Levi stalked past, looking at you sat criss-cross on the deck struggling to tie a decent knot, he snorted— lubber he'd called you. A little derogatory, his way of making sure you were aware of how incompetent you were at ship maintenance, far unaccustomed to sea faring. You took it in stride, though, motivated to learn and become at least somewhat efficient.
Starting to get frustrated, you cursed at your hands and their lack of nimble tactility. How difficult could it truly be? You studied the knots of rope attached to the ship posts, wrapped in a tight proficiency and frowned, your capability was nowhere near that level.
Reiner made his way over towards you, plotting himself beside you on the deck. Chortling at your attempts, he grabbed the ends of the rope that had remained bunched on the floor, the rest wrapped around your hands as you fumbled.
"I'll show you, my lady," Before demonstrating how to start the loops, running the rope through a tight loop. The title felt cold from his tongue, as you grimaced, you didn't like the way it dripped from his lips. Honestly, you were thankful for the demonstration but you would've figured it out at some point anyway. You watched anyway, not wanting to come across as ungrateful.
Hange was pulling nets from the bottom of the seabed with Levi's assistance. After they'd successfully hauled the nets and rested the caught fishes on the deck, Hange glanced around the ship, looking for you.
They spotted you first, hunched over some knots—then Reiner. His body far closer than was necessary, as he grabbed the rope from your hands, patting you on the arm and laughing at your annoyed expression. Something bitter twisted inside Hange's stomach, something resentful and unseemly. Hange's brows furrowed, vigilant as they watched the ordeal.
The green-eyed snake writhed further upon seeing how your lips extended into a smile as you managed to successfully tie a bowline, due to his diligence. Your voice travelling through the deck as you thanked him. I could've showed you how to do that, Hange thought, lips contorting into a scowl, He's not even the greatest at tying knots anyway.
Levi noticed this, he had planned on remaining silent on the matter, however seeing how viscerally Hange had responded, it was hard to bite his tongue.
"Don't tell me you're sweet on the lubber, Captain." He murmured, that was the absolute last thing the plan needed. The ship had been running smoothly, adding complex emotions and tensions between crewmates wasn't going to benefit anyone.
Hange exhaled, not dignifying his words with a response, instead sauntering off to where you and Reiner were based.
Levi sighed, rolling his eyes. Great.
Your head turned behind you, a glimmer in your eyes at their presence, unnoticed by Hange as they glared at Reiner. Arms crossed.
Reiner must've felt the daggers being thrown at his back, for he turned too, suddenly sheepish at the way Hange was staring down at him.
"Shouldn't you be busy filling crates?" Hange spoke, eyebrows raising, their voice stern and rigid.
Reiner looked between you and Hange, shoulders slumping as he hoisted himself up to his feet, a vague expression marked on his features.
"Sorry, Captain," He mumbled, looking back towards you, "A pleasure to help you, my lady,"
You nodded, picking up on the change in ambience, on the unspoken hostility in the air. You daren't speak as Reiner made his way back to his designated job.
Hange sat beside you, a taut breath escaping their lips. Picking up the rope, they huffed, fingers working the fibres, "He's useless at making knots, I don't even know why he was trying to teach you,"
You snorted, a faint smile creeping up on your lips, as you watched Hange work silently. Their brows were still grooved with discontent.
You raised your hand, thumb softening the crease of skin between Hange's eyebrows.
"Careful, Captain, he'll think you were getting envious," You teased, feeling a warmth at your core at Hange's disposition, inappropriate desire heated your body.
Hange lifted their head to look at you, your teeth catching at the plumpness of your bottom lip, a playful glaze in your eyes. Captain? You'd never called them that before.
Hange was stilled into silence, tongue nonverbal as their brain caught up. Many people had called Hange that title in their lifetime, never has it impacted them the way it did when it slipped sweetly from your mouth. That pretty mouth which had uttered such indecency just the night before, and here it was luring them back in again.
"You like when I call you that?" You teased further, testing how far you could reach, as your face reached closer.
Hange stood up, grabbing your arm and leading you into their quarters.
Once the door had closed, you were pushed against it, body against body as Hange whispered,
"That wasn't very ladylike, you know," Their hands skimmed down your sides, threatening and tight.
"I have a feeling that you like when I'm not ladylike," The darkness pooled in your eyes again, drawing Hange in closer as their lips were inches from yours.
"Careful, my lady," They threw back at you, "Or I might not treat you as such,"
Your core clenched, eyes darting from their eyes to their parted lips. Hange's hand met the nape of your head, bunching your hair up and pulling your head down, exposing the skin of your neck.
"Though, you'd like that, right?"
The playfulness etched on your face eased, replaced by an aching hunger, it was so easy to fluster you, Hange thought. That tiny speck of confidence dissipated, as your eyes closed shut, awaiting the delectable contact of Hange's lips on your skin.
"You like to be disgraced, don't you?"
Whimpering, you tried to pull Hange closer, groaning when they resisted, standing in their place.
"Oh no, you don't get to make orders," They hummed, other hand coming to grab your wrist, pinning it to your stomach.
"You wanna like a brat, I'll treat you like a brat,"
Hange unclasped the buttons at your shirt, breasts spilling out. Hange lapped at the peaked nipples, the lingering remnants of saliva attracting the cold air, creating shivers down your spine.
You craved more, your body writhing for Hange's contact. They could see the desperation emitting from you, in that whiny expression plastered on your brows.
Feeling Hange's body against yours, there was something hard digging into your side, your gaze fell upon a short dagger that was hanging on Hange's pants. The sight thrilled you, being in close proximity with the weapon whilst Hange was running their tongue over your nipples caused you to suck in a breath, at the contrast of it all. Leaning your head back against the door, your eyes were half-lidded as they stayed focused on the dagger, noticing your shudders, Hange followed your gaze.
They gaped at you, halting their movements on your breast as a hand clasped the hilt of the dagger, your chest heaved, watching the way their delicate fingers handled the lethal weapon Hange used for close combat.
"You want me to use this, dear?" They rasped, exposing the reflective metal of the blade from its sheath, lifting it to the valley between your breasts. The blade ghosted over your skin, being dragged down your sternum as your breath got caught in your throat. You couldn't help but release a gasp as the pointed blade reached your navel, forcing a jerk from your midsection. You bit at your bottom lip, an attempt to stop the lewd noises from escaping. Covering your face with your hands in shame, in disbelief that something like this this was making you react this way.
"God, you're going to be the death of me, love," Hange breathed, getting a little too excited as they pressed the blade tighter on your skin, almost breaking the skin. A part of you wished it had.
"Hange, please,"
"What is it, darling? Want me to cut you?" There was a manic glaze over their eyes, voice coming out in low purrs, luring you deeper into indecency as your core squeezed. Drenched. You were absolutely desperate for Hange, needy for their attention and blazing touch. Legs weak as you rested your spine against the door, hands hanging on to Hange's shoulders for stability, your nails gripping at their clothes firmly.
You felt a prickle at your skin, a sharp sting as they drew out a thin line of blood at your hipbone, a sensitive point in your midsection. Hissing as a small red drop trickled down, contrasting against the smoothness of your skin.
You almost imploded when you felt Hange's tongue skim over the blood, their warmness encompassing the heat from the fresh cut. No longer able to withhold it, a dangerous moan left your lips. A plea for them to continue.
“Delicious,”
“Hange-fuck," you breathed, body almost unable to withstand its own weight. They continued to lick the drawn blood as it spilled, moaning to themselves.
Reaching back up to your neck, Hange guided you to the bed, where you fell back and laid, waiting. Hange hung over you, their stance almost predatory as half-lidded eyes stared down at you. Placing the dagger between their teeth, Hange's arm reached down to roughly lift your thighs, encasing themself between bent legs. As they reached for the waistband of your pants, exposing you to them in full, you breathed out in anticipation. Wide open for them to see.
"Please, I need to see you," You mewled, stubborn for some equity, grasping at their garments, pulling- a hint for them to be removed.
Hange chuckled, before unclasping their own shirt and dropping it behind them, pants followed after.
You could gaze at them fully now, admiring the toned build of their naked figure. Their exposed breasts hung against their chest. The scars and marks from a rough life lived at sea only intoxicated you further. Dagger now placed beside your head, its threatening presence melting your brain into mush.
"Wanted to see me that badly, huh?" Their voice was melodious, taunting. Raising a hand to their chest, you whimpered as you kneaded your fingers over Hange's breast, rubbing your thumb over the stiff peak. Hange's breathing picked up, relishing in the feeling of your hands on them.
"What would your father say if he saw you now, hm?"
Dagger grasped between their fingers again, its blade skimming over your knee and up to your inner thighs, "Tainted and desecrated, all for me."
The blade reached your swollen bud, as Hange carefully pressed the weapon against your wet heat, the coldness of it making you shiver.
"If Reiner knows his place he won't come near you again," They hummed, "I've acquired a taste for you now, my lady, and I don't share,"
"Please, Hange—please just touch me," You sobbed, thighs tightening around Hange's waist in an effort to bring them closer, an attempt to allow them to touch you where you'd craved. Your dripping centre pressing nearer the blade, as your hips rutted against it with depravity, begging for more.
"Not until you say it, my lady,"
You gaped at them, words caught in your throat as a bind of timidity washed over you.
"Say what?" You muttered, with hesitation. Hange's face pressed into your neck, nose ghosting over the skin behind your ear, their teeth nipping at the sensitive lobe, responsible for the goosebumps that trailed over.
"Say you belong to me," Hange's voice was muffled, lips hot against your neck as they inhaled. The hand not holding the dagger was firm against your hip, fingers indenting the plush skin, leaving marks. The dagger lightly sliding down your folds as you twitched into it, anxious that you’d cut yourself further on it but didn’t cease your movements.
"I only belong to you, Hange— please j-just fill me up, I need to feel you— so badly," You gasped out, ruined.
A smug hum from Hange, and the dagger was no longer in contact, thrown to the floor in a frenzy. The clang of steel reverberated against the wooden cabin floor.
"That’s better,"
Two fingers pushed into your entrance, sliding in with ease due to the lack of friction, lubricated by your own silky essence.
Debauched groans left your lips, as your hips began tilting into Hange's hand, matching the unrelenting pace of their wrist. Their fingers curled, pounding against the sweet spot within your walls. You held onto the loose strands of Hange's hair, tugging their head back to see the way their eyes darkened as they watched their own fingers pump in and out of your heat. Totally coated in your slick.
"Feels so good, Hange—ah—so fucking good," You voice hitched as another finger entered you, you could barely contain yourself, having been impatiently soaking yourself for the past half hour.
Hange thrived on each broken sentence, spurred further by the fact that they had effectively turned you out in such a way. How you let them destroy any semblance of dignity and honour you had left.
"Fuck—wish I could feel myself inside you properly," Their voice strained as their mind wandered. With their own swollen heat aching, they imagined spilling themselves inside of you. Imagined watching languidly as their cum would leak out of your clenching entrance. They settled for pushing their fingers in deeper, and curling their digits harder.
"Wanna fuck you, Captain— wanna make you feel good, too," you whined, grabbing at their waist, eyes lolling as Hange felt your abdomen spasm. Signalling your close release, Hange almost came from just that. An otherwise innocent title, sullied, by the filthiness in the room. Selfish thoughts plagued Hange, almost hoping that your lovely sounds were audible from outside the cabin. Hopes that Reiner could listen and learn his position. Not this one.
"That's it, baby, let 'em hear who you belong to," Hange rasped, your walls convulsing against their fingers.
"Only you, Captain, fuck—only you."
You hips trembled, incoherent moans as your release spilled all over Hange's hand, a ring of dampness on the sheets around your pelvis. Body riding the shockwaves before stilling, eyes empty as you stared at the ceiling, mouth agape, panting.
"Hange— that was," You couldn't finish your sentence, admiring the person before you as their lips etched into a arrogant smirk,
"Good, huh?"
Your eyebrows titled up as you saw the reflection of Hange's own slick spread between their upper thighs.
"Wanna taste you," you mumbled, voice still lacking strength, barely trusting your limp arms to successfully pull Hange's leg over your chest.
Their features switched to surprise, mouth falling open as you placed them into a straddle above your breasts. Their throbbing centre hovering right above your face,
"Love, you don't have to,"
"I really, really want to," You pleaded, voice whiny once again, almost drunk. Hands drawing Hange's pelvis closer to your wanting mouth, as you lapped long, tentative licks over their tender flesh.
Hange closed their eyes, top lip quipping as they exhaled shakily, hips riding the sensation of your warm tongue on their heat. Their hand reached down to flick the wet strands of hair out of your mouth, exposing your face as it contorted with pleasure. Eyes closed, savouring Hange's saltiness as you parted their folds with your tongue.
Hange cursed, "Atta girl, you're doing so well, baby," Their sweet praise made you tense, moaning as you sucked them in. The grip on their legs ceased, as they lowered themself fully onto your flattened tongue. Looking up at them, making eye contact as your cheeks were splashed with saliva, Hange spreading their slick all over your face as it dripped.
"Look so pretty like this," Hange wanted to go easier on you, knowing your lack of experience. Yet, it was hard to contain themselves when your enjoyment was so vocal, eager guttural sounds reverberating from deep within your throat.
Grabbing at the plushy skin of Hange's ass, you pushed your tongue deeper, rolling over Hange's clit,
"S'like you were born for eating pussy," Hange hissed, hand grabbing at the top of your head for stability as they glided their hips over your mouth.
Their thighs quivered over your chest, you spotted their stomach twitching as their movements got more erratic, chasing their release.
A few more licks at their clit, your fingers dug into Hange's skin, easing your own build up of tension upon seeing Hange in a state of disarray. Their usual disposition of control and restraint ceasing, as you fucked them into their climax.
"Shit—," Hange groaned, hips rutting over your face, thighs clamping around you, almost cutting off air supply as the lack of oxygen made you dizzy, though that could've also just been the intoxication of Hange, who knows.
You felt Hange clench above you before their release seeped into your mouth, you sucked it all up, like such a good girl.
"Fuck, baby, you were so good at that," Lifting themselves off you, you looked up at them expectantly. A glimmering sparkle back in your doe eyes as you asked them if you did okay, eager for more of Hange's praise.
Hange kissed you, lips pressed tightly as their hand grabbed at your jaw.
"I'm afraid, I’m never letting go of you, my love,"
"Good, 'cos I'm not going anywhere,"
—
i had to wordvomit this out before i exploded, lmk yalls thoughts— comment feedback, reblog or like to ur hearts content <3
Bakugou and his bitchy girlfriend who can match his fire with ease. The two of you bicker nonstop and honestly most of his friends don't see the appeal in you, you're constantly scowling at everyone while you type away at your phone and you always make him leave their group hangouts early.
But Katsuki could care less, you call the shots during the day all you want because you and him made a deal. You hold the power when you're in public- in private? You're his sweet little stoner who just wants to be fucked and cuddled in that order. He's the only one who gets to see how sweet you are for him after a blunt and a few orgasms, and he's possessive enough that he wants to keep it that way.
LOVE ME A LITTLE MORE (4K)
— todoroki shoto x f!reader
SYNOPSIS: he don’t even scroll through insta ‘less he going through my pictures or while you’re stressed wondering why your boyfriend hasn’t commented on your new photo, he’s too busy jacking off to it.
WARNINGS: 18+, minors dni, masturbates over your photos, phone/facetime sex, you touch yourself too, established relationship, both switches, sorta a comfort fic/crybaby yn lol, youve got a nice ass, you both miss each other a lot, he spits on his dick
NOTES: omg look a todoroki fic!! not bakugou it’s todoroki!!! MY FIRST ONE!!! hope you all like it and his character isn’t off? tell me what you think when you’re finished :) also thank you aj tracey for the title
todoroki shoto hasn’t seen you in one month, two weeks, thirteen hours and forty-three seconds. he knows this because every time he looks at a clock, looks at his lockscreen, sees the sunrise for a new day and the sunset for the end of the day, he thinks of you. he tries to predict what you’d be doing at this exact time, whether you’re studying or at work, sleeping or just waking up. he even catches himself doing a social media sweep to see if you’ve posted anything.
sometimes he gets lost in it. in the corner of his hotel room in the armchair, staring lovingly at a new selfie you’ve posted on your instagram story. he stares for way too long, a stare that can only be excused with how much he loves and misses you, all bundled up into one. he then screenshots it to store permanently and after all that, he forgets to actually message you about the picture.
what he doesn’t realise is that you on the other side of the country, are equally missing your bi-haired lover and are overthinking everything. okay, so maybe you posted a selfie for everyone to see just for the eyes of your boyfriend. yes, you could have just texted it to him but maybe you wanted him to miss you as much as you missed him, to know that people are still seeing you in the flesh while he isn’t.
you kinda hate the burn you feel in your stomach when you’ve seen that shoto with a verified blue tick hasn’t said anything to about your picture. not a like on your story, not an emoji, not even a message. he just viewed it. what the fuck?
Keep reading
into it. — g. suguru
pairing: getō suguru x fem!reader
word count: 3.9k
warnings: fem!reader, age gap (Getō 31, reader early 20s), virginity loss, fingering, virgin!brat!reader, brat tamer!geto, corruption kink, hatefucking, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, size difference, cum sharing, finger sucking, mirror sex, dumbification, multiple orgasms, creampie, use of pet names (sweetheart, princess), name-calling (brat, slut), reader experiences slight pain discomfort, mentions of aftercare, skin color is not mentioned.
a/n: this is completely self indulgent and i am not sorry
for @k-ryuuguji 's lights camera action collab!
“Cut!” The director yelled out, sighing and pinching the bridge of their nose. “Everyone take an hour, get lunch. Y/N, Getō, stay back a minute.”
You knew what this was about. You had worked on this once scene for half the day without any progress. No matter what you tried or how you portray your character, it just wasn't playing out the way it was supposed to. But then again, it was hard to play the love interest of someone you hated.
Ever since joining the cast of Jujutsu Kaisen, you and Getō Suguru butted heads. You hated his type. You hated how he thought he was better than everyone and how he looked down on you for being the youngest cast member besides Itadori Yūji. Sure, he was damn near ten years older than you, but that didn't make you less of an actor or even a bad one at that. You were convinced that guys like him just had ego’s bigger than their dicks. It was just a way for them to compensate.
“Tension is good for the role sometimes,” Gege, the director, told you and your co-star. “But whatever you two have going on is not. Get it sorted before we come back from lunch.”
You clenched your jaw before smiling sweetly, “You got it.”
As they walked away, you glanced at Getō before scoffing. You didn't say anything to him, deciding to leave yourself. You had ramen in your dressing room that was calling your name. When you went to walk away, a large hand clamped down on your wrist.
“Where do you think you're going?” Getō questioned, narrowing his eyes. “We were told to work this out.”
You almost snarled, roughly removing yourself from his grip, “There's no way in hell we're working past that big ass ego of yours.”
“Watch your mouth, princess,” He glowered, stepping forward as if to intimidate you. “Don't forget I can have you blacklisted before our break is over.”
You rolled your eyes, “Typical. The girl says no and the man threatens her. I'm not afraid of you, Suguru. If you really want to ‘talk things out’, at least let me eat first. That's what a gentleman would do. You'd know that if you weren't such a barbarian.”
This time when you walked away from him, he followed along silently. For once, he finally shut the fuck up and you could actually hear yourself think with him around. By the time you made it to your dressing room, you'd forgotten he was right behind you. You just hoped you didn't have anything sitting out that he would make fun of you for, like your plushie collection.
In all honesty, Getō didn't know what to expect. Maybe a shrine in his honor or something of the like. With how much you claimed to not like him, he figured maybe it was because you're secretly in love with him. Every time he tried to think about what reasons you had for hating him, he came up empty handed. It wasn't like he was the one that started it, either. One day you were nice to him and the next you literally told him to go fuck himself.
So imagine his surprise when you looked at him and said, “You can start with an apology.”
“Me?” His eyebrows shot up, a bewildered laugh escaping him. “I didn't do anything wrong. You're the one with the issue here.”
It was true. Getō had no qualms with you. But, it didn't mean he would sit there and take your shit. He would give it back, and has done so plenty of times.
You scoffed in response, “If you're gonna deny it, you can just leave. I already told you I'm perfectly fine not being civil.”
“Will you stop acting like a fuckin’ kid?” He growled, watching you reach into the bag sitting on your vanity.
You glanced over your shoulder, smirk tugging at your lips, “Okay, daddy. Whatever you say.”
He knew full and well that you were simply testing his patience. But, the sultry tone you used was not at all necessary or fair. It left him even more shocked than before. He hated that. No one has ever made him feel this conflicted and confused before.
“This was stupid,” He tried to recover, but you'd already seen the blush that hit his cheeks. And you silently cursed yourself for liking how he looked with a flushed face. “I won't apologize for something that I didn't do.”
You rolled your eyes, going to open the ramen pack when Getō took it from your hands, “Or is that the real issue here, Princess? Do you not get enough attention? So you bitch and moan like a brat?”
Your first instinct was to yell at him and grab for your food, but you knew you'd be proving his point. You clenched your jaw, staring forward as if he wasn't there. That act itself was also childish, but you knew that if you opened your mouth, all hell would break loose. Getō reached out, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.
“Maybe it's because I don't give you enough attention?”
The wide eyed look you unknowingly gave him caused a low chuckle to push past his lips. He pulled you closer, his faces centimeters from yours, “If you wanted to fuck me sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.”
“As if,” You finally spat out, pushing his hand away from you. But just as quickly, he dropped the pack of ramen and grabbed you by the back of your neck. He twisted his fingers into your hair, keeping you firmly in place.
You swallowed thickly, knowing if you so much as dared to breathe, you'd waver. His scent was intoxicating, his gaze hypnotizing. Your heart was racing as you stared into his dark eyes, not knowing what had come over him. The thought was somewhat exhilarating and his grip on you left you feeling like your skin was on fire.
“Don't get shy on me now,” His voice came out just above a whisper, causing a shiver to slowly creep down your spine. “I didn't even fuck away that attitude yet.”
You should've been repulsed. You should've been pushing him away instead of pulling him in by his shirt. You should've been yelling at him instead of angrily pressing your lips against his. You should've been fighting instead of giving in.
All too quickly, Getō knocked your bag from the vanity table and wrapped an arm around your waist, hoisting you up. He sat you down, pushing himself between your thighs. Your mind was racing as he untangled himself from your hair and roughly grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into you as he pushed himself against you, letting you know just how hard he was already.
You didn't know what the hell was happening, or what was going to happen, or even why. You weren't going to deny the fact that Getō was hot, but the thought of sexual tension had never crossed your mind. You hated him with your whole heart, you'd swear it. But, god did you love how he was making you feel.
You hooked your legs around his waist, causing him to break the heated kiss with a sonorous laugh. His hands trailed your body, riding up your thigh and under your skirt until he stopped at your panties. He ran his fingers over the fabric, pulling an airy gasp from you. He smirked, “If you hate me so much, why are you such a mess for me?”
You held back a whimper at his touch, “Shut the fuck up.”
Roughly, he pulled your underwear aside and pushed a finger into you. Before you could cry out, he covered your mouth with his free hand and glared down at you.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Getō snapped, slipping another finger into you. “Unless you want everyone to know that you're acting like a little slut for me.”
As he worked his fingers, in and out, against your tight walls, you bit down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. Because he was right. You would be damned if anyone heard you calling out for Getō Suguru.
He was relentless. Pushing down on your pelvic bone, curling his fingers upward to hit that sweet spot over, and over, and over again until you were close to your release. But as soon as you tilted your head back and you clenched around him, he was pulling away from you completely. The smirk that tugged at his lips told him that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
“You think brats like you get to cum?”
It wasn't a question that needed an answer. For once you were smart enough to listen and keep quiet. He toyed with your clit, watching your face go red as you all but squirmed against him. He was enjoying how you reacted to his touch, writhing at something as simple as brushing your clit.
He moved his hand away from your mouth, using it to undo the few buttons of your top. You almost shivered at the cool air hitting your hot skin, going to reach for his shirt when he smacked your hand away. He would take up every single second of your lunch break if he had to. But he would fuck the brat out of you by the time you left the dressing room.
He bent down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You shivered, head rolling back as your breathing became ragged. He was reveling in the way you were puddy in his hands. So lost in your reactions that he didn't even stop to think maybe he had way more experience than you did. No, not when he was getting as lost in your noises as you were his touches.
You couldn't focus as he pressed his fingers into you, all while he sucked and nibbled at your skin. Every touch was lighting you on fire, your body shaking as you once again felt yourself close to cumming.
“Getō, please,” You whined, his tongue flicking over your sensitive flesh as his free hand continued to toy with your clit. You couldn't handle it, you wanted to touch him, to feel him inside you. You were too eager, so eager it was throwing him off.
He pulled away from you, shooting you a glare, “So impatient. It's almost like you've never done this before.”
The way the red tinted your cheeks told him exactly what he needed to know. You hadn't done this before, and it just gave him another thing to bully you for. The smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth confirmed your thoughts.
“You haven't, have you?” He questioned, already knowing his answer. “Oh, sweetheart. I am going to ruin you.”
You whimpered as he once again fucked his fingers into you. He’d allow you sweet release because it would make what comes next easier for you. He could feel you clenching around him, so damn close but not quite there just yet.
“You better cum,” He snapped, before leaning down and once again catching your perky nipple with his lips. “Now.”
“Getō, I–” You couldn't help the cry that pushed past your lips while he latched on, sucking and rolling his tongue over it as you instantly caved. You came around his fingers, your tight, gummy walls tightening against him. He didn't let up, letting you ride out your high as you panted out his name.
He pulled his hand away, sticking the fingers he used on you into your mouth. Everything you thought you knew about sex, you could forget it. Because Getō was going to teach you, and you were going to learn his way. This included forcing you to know what you tasted like. He wanted you to taste what he did, for you to know just how sweet you were. You ran your tongue over his fingers, doing what he wanted without even being asked to.
He let out a shaky breath as you sucked his skin clean, wondering how it would feel if your mouth was on his cock. As much as he wanted to find out, he was pushing the time limit as is. The thought had him yanking his hand away from you and flying towards his belt.
Your heart raced as you watched him, knowing you were about to give up everything for the person you hated the most without any hesitation. It made you feel so dirty but at the same time, he made you feel so good. You wanted more, for him to make good on his promise and ruin you.
As he slid out of his clothes you couldn't help but stare. A cheeky grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, knowing overall he was bigger than you. You knew you were in for it, and that he was most definitely going to torment you with his size. But you still couldn't help but ask, “Is that going to fit?”
“Cute,” He chuckled lowly, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. You whimpered as he pressed his erection against your throbbing cunt. “You're gonna take it all, sweetheart. Got it? I'm gonna make this pretty little virgin pussy mine.”
You nodded, closing your eyes and biting down on your lip as he teasingly dragged his cock against your soaking entrance. With no warning, he pushed into you. Your eyes flew open, feeling the stretch as he stopped, allowing you to get used to his size.
“So fuckin’ tight,” He gritted out, slowly rocked his hips to inch himself in more. Tears stung the back of your eyes at the discomfort, and your hands curled around the edge of your desk to brace yourself. He placed one hand on the table and wrapped the other around your waist. “Don't be afraid to hurt me, princess.”
He kept his pace, waiting until you were moaning and wrapping your arms around him before going even deeper. But, you were getting impatient, using your legs to pull him all the way in, despite the pain that shot through you at your movements. The cry that left your mouth mixed with his own pleasured moan that he tried to hide by burying his head into the crook of your neck.
“More,” You whined, a tear rolling down your cheek. “Getō, please. I want more.”
He groaned, pushing in on your back until you were arched perfectly for him as he leaned back to look, “You're so fucking needy. Hurting yourself for my cock. Is that what you want more of? Be a big girl, use your words.”
He wiped the stray tear away, watching as your eyes briefly fluttered closed. He couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked. Your face red, exposed chest heaving as you tried to adjust to how deep in you he was.
“I want your cock,” A sharp noise left your mouth as your hand found the base of his neck. “Please. I– I want you to fuck me.”
He thrusted into you, the noises you made like music to his ears. If you didn't care about the pain you were in, he wasn't going to either. Your yelps were followed by your nails digging into his skin, allowing him to be as rough as he wanted with you.
You locked your legs around his waist, hardly allowing him any room besides short yet deep thrusts. But as he worked himself in as far as he could go, you noticed him picking up speed. He drilled into you, your pained cries slowly becoming more pleasured with each thrust. All you could think about was how he felt inside you. How the friction of his cock moving against your tight walls made you feel like every nerve in your body was on fire.
“Suguru,” An airy moan left your mouth that had his rhythm faltering. “Feels s’good. I wanna… Wanna…”
God, he wished you could see how fucked out you looked right now. Eyelids half open, a lost look in your eyes as if you were seeing stars. His own jumped to the mirrors behind you, an idea forming in his head as he pulled you closer to him. You weren't even on the table anymore, the only thing holding you up was your own arm and leg strength as he gripped your hips and forced your body up and down on his cock.
The slightest change in position made all the difference as you already felt a tightening in your abdomen. You couldn't form words as you wound your hands into his hair.
“You wanted to cum, princess,” He growled out. “So do it.”
As if on command, that tight coil finally snapped, letting the feeling of pure euphoria overtake you. Getō’s lips crashed against yours as you started to cry out, silencing you almost completely. You mewled against his mouth, clamping down around his cock so tight he had to hold back his own moans. He kept up his brutal pace until you had fully rode out your high in a series of spasms that had you jerking violently and nearly in tears as you could finally feel just how raw he had rode you.
He pulled out, a noise of discomfort pushing past your lips as he set you down. He let out a laugh before spinning you around and roughly bending you over the vanity. He leaned down before growling out in your ear, “I'm not done with you yet, brat. I'm gonna fuck you ‘till you can't remember why you hate me.”
You let out a whimper as he lined himself back up with your entrance, slowly thrusting into you. He let out a slew of curses as you sucked him back in, wrapping his arm over your abdomen. As soon as his hand trailed over your skin and stopped at your clit, he pulled you up just enough to grab your chin, turning your head so you could see yourself in the mirror.
Sweat was running down your forehead, your eyes almost crossed as he began toying with you once again.
“See that? How dumb you look for my touch?” Getō snarled, bucking his hips upward. You watched as your mouth dropped open, no noises leaving you even though you wanted to moan. “See how ridiculous you look for my cock, despite saying you hate me? Imagine how stupid you'll look when I fill you full of my cum.”
You couldn't form a response as he railed into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as you focused on the pleasure instead of the discomfort you had felt a minute ago. You gripped the ledge of the table, keeping yourself steady as it rocked underneath his force.
His fingers moved around your sensitive bud, kneading at you as he spurred himself on. He wasn't gentle, but you didn't seem to mind as an abundance of whore sounds we're finally flowing from your mouth. You couldn't think, still couldn't speak, and he was absolutely correct.
You looked like a fucking idiot.
Not because of the pleasured expressions crossing your features, but because of the fact he had you in this state when yesterday you were running your mouth about how you’d never touch him with a ten foot pole over a kissing scene. Now look at you, squirming underneath him as he hit it from behind and nearly had you in tears from how good he was making you feel.
He adored the sight, relishing in the fact that he had made you weak. Who knew all it would take was a few suggestive comments that you had every right to turn down? Because somewhere under all the hatred, you did want him. You finally had him, buried deep inside you and stretching you out more than you had thought possible.
There was no doubt in his mind you'd hate yourself in the morning. Because you'd be sore and worn out, but also because Getō was determined to not let you forget this. He had no issues with you, didn't even hate you. But, he was over your loud mouth and whatever issues you had with him. He was pissed off and he had been itching to let you have it. Although, this was not at all what he had in mind.
Never did he picture he’d be stealing your virginity, let alone fucking you dumb at work of all places. Anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone walking by could hear your sharp noises because you couldn't keep yourself contained.
It was all happening so fast, you slurred over your words as you tried to tell him you were close once again. Getō didn't need to be told though. He could feel you clenching around him, causing his own movements to become sloppy and out of rhythm as he used his free hand to place his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet.
As you once again came around his cock, he felt himself close to the edge as well. His strokes went long and deep, becoming faster each time he thrusted into you.
“M’gonna cum,” he groaned out. “Gonna fill up your pretty little cunt.”
You whined against his fingers as he pushed into you one last time, breathing out heavily. He made good on his promise, allowing his hot seed to paint your tight walls white. You could’ve sworn you were seeing stars as you tried to calm down. He lightly rested his forehead on your shoulder before softly kissing your skin.
“Let's get you cleaned up,” he murmured, pulling out and away from you. You stood back up and turned to look at him in confusion, wondering why he was being nice. You expected him to just leave, but here he was, offering to take care of you.
“What?” He raised a brow. “Aftercare is important, don’t let anyone tell you differently. Especially with this being your first time, there’s no way you’re not bleeding.”
You scoffed, “Don’t act like you care. You got what you wanted, you can go now.”
“What do you mean by that?” Confusion clouded his features, having no idea what you were insinuating.
You looked away, folding your arms over your chest, “Gojo told me that you said I’d never amount to anything, and that I’d be just another washed up actress.”
“You will be if you keep listening to his dumbass,” Getō rolled his eyes, gently grabbing your chin. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
This time when he called you that, it wasn’t full of sarcasm. You dragged your eyes up to meet his, seeing that he was completely serious as he said, “I think you’re great at what you do. I never said that about anyone. As for why Gojo told you that… I’ll give you one guess.”
This guess didn’t need to be said out loud. You knew Gojo was the type to get around. You frowned, mad at yourself for believing him. You should be the one to apologize, not Geto. But as you went to do just that, he caught you by the mouth. Once again taken off guard, he let out a soft chuckle.
“Don’t apologize. You can’t help that you’re naive.”
“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “Naive enough to let some old perve take my virginity.”
TAGS: @slut-for-serotonin @bxnten @queen-flower @rinsie @kennyb0y @portfolio-of-dreams @minoozi @chaoticyuna @sh4nn @sano-obsessed @chifuyuslilkitten @rozcdust @hibiscus-san @arosora @sanemishina @bontensbabygirl @izanasqueen @chronic-claire-universe @brownsugarmoonie @todorokiskitten @meena-in-a-nutshell @yukihime-mikeys-girl @softtashoney @zuuki @bluebellzie @rindousprincess @mortuary-ossuary @yeagerfushiguro
A/N: my pussy wrote this for me. don't let it flop i was on whore behavior for this 😩
𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | eren jaegar
warnings . . . fem reader ( she / her prns ), established relationship, black reader!, eren has a dick piercing & he likes bein’ called god :3, he also spits in your mouth, lotsa praise, squirting, oral sex ( f -> m), reader’s a bit of a brat but ‘s okie !
word count . . . approx. 6.4k
maisie's note ! . . . dis is da song mentioned at d beginning ! i had it playing almost da entire time i spent writing this fic + ariana’s song is basically . . . da reason for dis entire thing !
RINI’s oceane plays gently from the white, pill shaped, jbl speaker resting on the black, quartz countertop inside of the bathroom. nibbling on the long, acrylic layered, tapered square nail of your thumb, you watch your boyfriend’s tatted, muscled back flex and strain as he brushes his teeth in front of the sink from your position in bed. you feel as though your words are literally stuck in your throat — pointy ends sinking into the structure of your esophagus as the rounded letters block your airway which have you opening your mouth then snapping it back closed to take in a deep inhale and blow it back out slowly, time over and time again. you’re nervous … and you’re not exactly sure why. you have no reason to be, you think. it’s just a simple question you want to ask the man currently stepping out from the bathroom to walk towards the foot of the bed and yet, you feel an urge to dart into traffic at the imaginary outcomes your brain’s conjuring up if he happened to say that two-lettered word you despise most — ‘no.’
“hey,” you try out, your voice soft and delicate from literal hours of disuse. “g’mornin’.”
you catch eren’s attention though. you make him lift his eyes so they meet yours, gorgeous teal to sleepy brown, as he drops the towel swathed around his waist to snatch up the pair of ethika briefs thrown on the ottoman beside black, straight legged jeans and a balenciaga hoodie. “did i wake you?” he asks, thick eyebrows gathering close as he slips them up the firm muscles of his thighs.
you shake your head, “no, i woke up while you were in the shower.”
here’s the thing about eren, — he is strict on routine. monday through thursdays he’s up at six am come the twinkling chimes of his phone alarm. twenty minute shower is immediately after, no if-ands-or-buts, then he brushes his teeth, gets dressed in a usual outfit of hoodie and jeans (occasionally he swaps out the hoodie for a short sleeved v neck or maybe the jeans for sweat-shorts), has breakfast, and he’s out of the door by seven fifteen. he gets to his job — a tattoo and piercing parlor entitled paradis at seven fifty which allows him a ten minute interval to open up shop and get his station ready for his first client of the day.
you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to somehow force your boyfriend to ram a dent into his periodic, run-of-the-mill schedule . . and on a tuesday at that, but, if anything, you’re determined to. you need to. “so . .” you watch him pull his hoodie over his head, obscuring sharp, black ink printed over his pecs, collarbones, and arms from view. “what are you doin’ tomorrow?”
eren’s combing his tousled, shoulder length locks up with his fingers to gather it all in a bun which he ties somewhat securely with the band he keeps on his wrist at all times near the back of his head. he gives you a look — one that makes the corner of his lips pull down in a lour. “tomorrow’s tuesday, i’m working, baby.”
god, this is going to be harder than you thought.
you kiss your teeth with a slick ‘mmcht’ sound, “well,” you scratch the back of your neck. “i was thinking that . . maybe you could take off tomorrow.”
he makes a small, gruff sound of slight interest. you can hear him walking over to the dresser where he keeps his jewelry. “hm — and why should i do that?”
“because i’m your girlfriend and you love me.”
his smile is pretty. there’s really no other word to truly describe it. it makes his usual, handsome-although-deadpanned face brighten and gleam as the straight, pearly whites reveal themselves between two, soft, bronze-toned lips. he’s grinning at you as he tosses a gold, rope chain around his neck and clips his favorite rolex over his wrist. “as much as that’s true,” he’s trailing over to your side of the bed, bringing along with him the scent of fresh, clean soap and expensive cologne. “you’ve been begging me for a new, diamond anklet for a month now and how do you think i manage to buy those for you, huh?”
he tilts your chin up high with a knuckle so that you can look up at his towering frame. you pout at his question. “but . . but baby, i hit two million subscribers on youtube and i had this whole, cute video idea of you doing my makeup ‘cause everyone wants to see you now and if you say no, i’m going to cry, and throw a fit and you’re gonna be a mean, horrible boyfriend and i know you don’t want to be that, do you?” you’re standing up on your knees now, tugging on the pocket of his hoodie with the cutest frown on your face.
god, if you weren’t the most spoiled fucking thing on planet earth.
in a way, eren knows he should blame himself for your self-centered, brattish behavior. he grants you any and everything you ask for because it’s simply hard not to. sometimes, a pout isn’t what breaks him but a smile. the dreamy, drop-dead gorgeous beam that spreads across your face when you see him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand, when he swipes his card at the make up outlets you drag him to, and at five-star, tower-revolving restaurants has his heart inside of a vice-grip and you know this. “mm,” he groans through his nose, closes his eyes, and pinches his nose bridge. he’s contemplating.
“eren, please?” you’re whispering sweetly, trying your best time sway him over to ‘yes, fine.’ “please? just one video?”
he blinks his eyes back open slowly, “clients,” he says as if just realizing — as if broken out of the puppy-eyed trance you subjected him to. “i have clients, i can’t cancel on them.”
it’s rare that you have to whip out the big guns. big guns being a dramatic façade of bubbling tears and sniffles as you plop back down on your butt. and in response, he’s giving you this bored, catatonic expression that shows he’s used to it. “you’re not being fair, you know that?”
you fold your arms over your chest, “i’m the one not being fair?”
eren rolls his eyes and snatches up his vans to shove his feet into and lace up beside the door. “just for that, now you can wait. i’ll make up my mind later.”
“eren!”
he ignores your little wails while grabbing his phone and keys from off of the nightstand and walking out of the room with a simple, “i love you. come lock the door after i leave.”
you should know just as much as you adore teasing and putting up a bit of a fight when provoked to, eren does the same. you had expected to wallow and pout and sob all day in bed until your malignant, execrable of a boyfriend got home, per contra, your phone dings with a text message as you’re locking the front door. in the company of a jutted bottom lip, you’re using facial identification to unlock the device and open the new message from ‘baby<3’ that reads:
fine.
your love for make up, skin care and, basically, all things beauty began at the budding age of five years old. the palettes of chalky eyeshadow, pulverized blush, and lipgloss composed of more wax and glitter than anything, you received on christmas and birthdays filled your little heart up with so much joy that it was indescribable. thankfully, your parents saw just how much you enjoyed painting your face with the cosmetics and when you hit ten, you were already roping your dad into drugstores to buy you the real deal.
the excitement and happiness makeup brought you never dulled. you uploaded your first tutorial on youtube at eighteen, around the time you first met eren, and now at twenty two you’re hitting your two million milestone.
your subscribers’ infatuation with eren began about a year ago when he reached a tatted arm across your vanity while you were doing your makeup to pluck a fast food cup from it and take a swig of your strawberry lemonade. you decided to leave the clip in — surmising that the domesticity of him grumbling about you ‘drinking it all and barely leaving any for him’ and your responding giggles as you looked up at him was too cute to trim out. there had also been another occurrence of you answering his facetime call while color correcting that made him chuckle over the receiver at how silly you looked that trended over twitter for a few days and caught a lot of attention.
you have never been the type to hide your relationship neither. you continuously boast about how fine eren was, how he won an award for tattoo’ing last year, about the many dates he takes you on — you suppose that maybe you were a tease. and, to put simply, your subscribers couldn’t take it anymore. they were curious. they needed to know who this man was.
“i’m craving a fuckin’ bacon double-cheeseburger,” eren sniffs while lounging back in the white, swirling chair you loaned him.
your fujifilm x-s10 camera is recording, your ring lights are on, and so is your fairy lights that drape prettily over the white shelves of books, plants, and trinkets you use for a backdrop behind you. humming, you make sure your butterfly locs are hanging right before flicking one over your shoulder, “do i look okay?” you turn your stool to face eren who gives you a long look from the ass-length locs on your head to the white prada sandals on your feet.
when he drags his eyes back up, a lazy smile slides across his lips prior to him licking them, “yeah,” he utters softly, peering at you through his lashes. “you look good, baby.”
a grin of startlement lights up your face as your heart skips a beat at that look. you hold your hand up with your palm facing him and shake your head, looking towards the camera, “i am not playing with you today, eren.”
“i just answered your question?—“
“—no need for an intro. welcome back to my channel, if you’re new here my name is ( ♡ ) and this pretty man right here is my boyfriend eren,” you bring him in close by the face to kiss the skin of his cheek as he hums as a greeting. “and today he’s going to be doing my make up. you think you’re up for it, mr. jaeger?”
he’s already thumbing with tubes of lipgloss and opening palettes when he shoots back coolly, “i don’t know. we’ll have to see, mrs. jaeger.”
you fluster with bashfulness, as much as you try to fight it, and kicks his shin underneath the table. “alright, so start,” you straighten your spine. “you can’t ask me what anything is, okay? you have to do it all on your own.”
eren inhales some air through his teeth as he combs his hair back with his fingers. “mm, okay,” he mumbles underneath his breath. he wracks his brain for the small glances he’d take of you doing your make up while he walked in and out of the room all these days before. it seems to him you’re always trying out a new product aside from . . “you always start with this shit.” he grabs hold of a pink and white ombré squeeze tube bottle with ‘too faced hangoverx’ printed across it. it’s a staple for you. after opening it, instead of simply applying some of the product upon the tips of his fingers and rubbing it in, the way that you do it, eren angles the opening of the bottle upon peaks of your face which he squeezes the primer onto before doing so.
“oh, god,” you’re giggling at the foreign touch of his fingers tapping over your face which makes him have to roll his chair in closer.
he fixes you with a bored stare, “stop movin’. what’s so funny?”
not wanting to disturb his flow, you shake your head, “nothing. keep going.”
he’s popping the cap back on the container while pulling the iridescent pink mason jar you keep your go-to make up brushes in towards the edge of the vanity before picking the first one he sees — the flat brush you normally use for concealer. “don’t be laughing at me. i’ll pull your little ass over my lap and s—“
“—i’m going to have to edit that out now, eren!” you whine. you absolutely hate editing and you try your best to keep it at a minimal. however, knowing eren and his apathetic impudence, you know this video is going to be cut-and-paste central.
he lifts your chin by a knuckle so he can start blending the primer a little bit more into your skin. “don’t edit it,” he utters in reply as if that was an unexacting solution. you blink up into the moss-green of his eyes, unable to keep from noticing just how long and delicate his eyelashes are that frame them. when he blinks, they touch the apples of his cheeks and spring back up near his brow bone. you strangely want to comb mascara through them. “there.” he plops the brush back inside the jar and nibbles upon the flesh of his bottom lip in consideration.
“what now?”
he gives you a sideways glance, “. . uh, f-foundation? that shit.” he snatches the bottle of your fenty beauty foundation and shakes it a bit before angling the applicator over your face and pumping it all over. “then you use this brush, right?” he grabs a tapered, buffing brush with dense bristles which makes you lift your eyebrows in slight surprise. you didn’t know he paid that much attention. so far, all of the products he’s been using have been correct, aside from him wielding your concealer brush to pat in your primer.
while he’s brushing the full-coverage product over the canvas of your face, you can’t help but fist the fabric of his sweats in your fist. no reason to, honestly, just wanted to touch him. “maybe we can tell them how we met while we do this, baby?”
he’s concentrating, eyebrows linked close and tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “yeah, sure,” he mumbles. “tell them how you acted like a smart, know-it-all just ‘cause you wanted my attention, huh?”
you swat his chest with a huff, “i did not,” you pout. “we met through our mutual friend, sasha, at a restaurant to celebrate her birthday. i was eighteen, eren was nineteen and — wait, no, my first impression of you was—“
“—he’s sexy as fuck and i’m going to try my absolute best to get on his nerves, because that’s exactly what your smart ass did—“
“—oh, fuck you.”
“yeah?” he smiles and you feel his fingers drop from your chin to wrap around the column of your throat. he tugs you in roughly to smack his lips into yours for two, three, four? pecks before pulling away and going back to blending your foundation up into your ears. the action is so swift and quick that you’re sure you almost catch whiplash. “watch your tone.”
“anyways,” you roll your eyes, fighting to keep your smile in. something in you likes switching the button of your ‘brat mode’ on and off because you like how easy it is for eren to snap you back in place with a simple look, or phrase of, ‘keep playing with me and watch what i’ll do.’ of course, you’ve never told him this and you doubt you ever will, but something inside of you knows eren has picked up on it and that’s why he doesn’t really spare you a glance when you catch a sudden attitude out of no where. you like his attention, no, love it actually and when you got it, you were happiest. however, eren has been trying to teach you lately that not everything will go your way just because you want it to. you have to earn what you want.
and most of the time that includes his dick and attention, whether you like it or not.
“i thought eren was this stuck up, snobby, rich boy when i met him because he came to the restaurant dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie,” you close your eyes when he grabs the tube of concealer to draw a line over the lids then little triangles beneath your eyes followed by a line dragging upwards on the outer part towards your temple.
“like that, right?”
you shrug at his question and he clicks his jaw in frustration. “anyways, upon sitting down, we’re all talking and stuff and i catch him looking at the menu when our waitress comes by to take our order, then he asks her if he can have the crudité as his whore-derv.”
eren shakes his head and caps the concealer back up after drawing a dick on your nose and putting some on your chin and forehead. “i didn’t say it like that.”
you giggle and punch his shoulder, “yes, you did! and i corrected you and told you it’s pronounced hors d'oeuvre and you gave me this . . look.” it’s always hard to explain. every time you think about that day, you think about the certain look he gave you. a bright glint in his eye that made it seem like he wanted to kiss, kill, and marry you at the same while. “and then he was pussy-whipped from there on out. literally hounded me for my number while i walked to my car when we were all leaving.”
“you gave it to me the first time i asked and i walked you to your car, don’t play with me,” he pulls you in close by the throat again while smiling and you hum playfully while looking up at him. “maybe so, maybe not. i don’t remember it happening like that.”
he clicks his tongue and lazily lines contour over your forehead and jawline. “do that stupid fish face.” you suck in your cheeks to make your lips pucker cutely as he outlines the contour to bring out your cheekbones. “there you go,” he whispers underneath his breath. “good fuckin’ girl.”
he lets you go when he’s done and caps it. “now i get to use that sponge, i think. where is it?” he shuffles around the vanity and drawers for a moment before he sees it buried in the jar with your brushes. he shoves his huge hand inside of it, almost breaking the glass, prior to retrieving the sponge shaped like a mushroom in honor of colour pop’s collaboration with mario kart as a promotion package you received last year. with the sponge, eren starts to pat the cream products all in and you take the time to grow quiet again and close your eyes, melting into the comfort of having him so near.
his face was only inches away from yours so you can smell the spearmint of the gum he was chewing on his breath that occasionally brushes over your face. you can tell he also washed his hair too … and with your shampoo which doesn’t comes as a surprise since he claims the brand you buy makes his hair feel softer. you blink your eyes back open daintily to find him already staring at you too and you can’t help but smile and go a bit shy, “u-uhm . . what was your first impression when you first saw me?”
he bounces the sponge over your chin then smirks, “i don’t know, man,” he mumbles. “thought you were pretty as fuck, if you really want me to be honest. had on this . . tight ass, light blue dress with your hair and make up all done …“ his mind takes him back to the day. takes him back to sitting there at the table in the corner of a dimly, lit restaurant, staring at you without an ounce of shame in his body. you’d sometimes glimpse over and catch him, however, he never looked away. “cute ass.”
you giggle and throw your arms over his shoulders, blown away dumbfounded that he actually remembered what you wore. “then the second time we met,” he blends in the concealer under your eyes which leaves the products all melded and fused smoothly, then drops the brush on the vanity. “uh, i took you on a date . . we went to the fair.”
you gasp at the memory, “you won me this gigantic, pink, panda bear at the stall games! and . . and we ate like four funnel cakes together and you almost threw up on the ferris wheel. awe, baby,” you peck his lips and brush more of his hair back to get a better look at his handsome face. “one of my favorite dates we’ve been on.”
“i’m glad,” suddenly, as if a spring had been faulted in his seat, eren brings you in by your chair to align his lips upon yours and kisses you. his tatted hand holds your face firmly in place as your lips began to move slowly with light, clicking sounds and small smacks. you breathe him in completely, pulling him closer and closer until you felt yourself climbing his lap which doesn’t take neither of you by surprise. you end up with your knees caged around his hips and your hands tangled in the tufts of sorrel-brown waves as his tongue skims the seam of your lips before prying them open. neither of you can really help yourself at this point.
his large hands are sliding up the back of your thighs, bare due to you wearing a pair of tiny, denim shorts today. then they find your ass cheeks which he squeezes, right before pulling the palm of his right hand back an inch and slamming it back down to make you give a cute sound between a squeak and moan. eren’s been trying to control his urges this entire time if he wants to be entirely candid with himself. it’s hard having your face right in front of his and not doing anything about it. there’s been more than a few instances where it hadn’t took much — just him fucking staring at you while you talked has got him bricked up within seconds. this right here . . he considers it torture.
“w-wait, baby, no,” you’re whining and pulling and pouting — everything eren does not want, to free yourself from his embrace and he groans in irritation, tilting his head back against the chair he’s seated in. “we have to finish.” you take your seat again and adjust your locs, feeling as though two million people just saw you blatantly make out with your boyfriend. “i have to edit that out, too.”
eren tilts his head back forward and blows out a breath. his hand grabs your favorite setting powder. “we set this shit now, right?”
from there on out, it’s almost like he’s whizzing through the process. he ends up actually making your eyeliner sharp and crisp just because of how fast he flicked his fingers and drew it on. “wait, c’mere,” he pulls your face in really close until your noses are almost touching. “i like when you do that inner corner shit.” he tries his best to draw the tiny triangle and . . it looks somewhat good. it’s not bad, but it’s not as small and precise as you do it. eren doesn’t care that much. he’s dusting blush over your cheeks and nose bridge with a brush which makes you sneeze and he chuckles. “you can do your eyebrows and eyelashes and shit,” he utters while grabbing a tube of white and pink eyeliner. “i want to draw.”
“on my face, eren?”
he shushes you, “i’ll make it look nice, daddy promises.” he ends up dotting tiny stars over your cheeks and nose bridge with the two colors . . almost like freckles. “then . . i like that dark outline and clear lipgloss shit on your lips.” he drops the eyeliner to pick up a random, dark pencil which is an eyebrow product and lines your lips with smooth, exact lines that follow the shape of them. he makes you rub them together when he’s done to blend the harsh contours then lets you apply the lipgloss yourself. from there on, he grabs a random setting spray and spritzes your face with it all over to complete it.
he’s smiling at the finished product, teasingly keeping your hello kitty shaped, handheld mirror hidden behind his back before showing you. “ready?” he asks.
you tap your feet, anxiously. “yes! lemme see already.”
“you sure?”
“eren!”
he holds up the mirror and your eyebrows instantly raise in a state of startlement. your reflection staring back at you through the mirror looks actually . . good. you find that he, if truth be told, blended in your foundation and contour quite nicely, and although the blush was a bit misplaced, you adore the star-freckles he added. “i’m . . i’m really surprised, eren. woah,” you tilt your face this way and that, admiring the liner and choice of lip.
eren tchs, staring at you as if just realizing something, “i forgot that shiny shit.”
you hum quizzically.
“the stuff you put on your cheeks.”
“. . oh, highlighter.” you nod. “no, no. i feel like this is good on its own, this is amazing actually. you did way better than i thought. the only product you misused was the eyebrow pencil on my lips, i’m proud of you.”
eren sets the mirror down and hums, tilting his head when he leans in to softly peck your lips. it’s a sweet sign of affection since he doesn’t make any other move than that and you smile cutely, “. . i think i’ll leave this part in.”
“good.”
you stand and decide to take a seat on his lap to film the outro. “and this is the finished look. i think my baby did well, ten out of ten for me.” you squeeze his face between your hands. “now when i hit three million subscribers the two of us will be back so that i can do eren’s make up!—“
he lifts his eyebrows. “—really?”
“please remember to like and subscribe and all that cool stuff. i’ll see you guys on friday with a new video. muah!” you blow a big kiss to the camera before turning to eren. “you gotta blow one, too.”
he groans and bury his face into your neck. you roll your eyes and give a final wave for him before grabbing the tiny remote off of your vanity to press a button and end the recording.
if eren’s honest, he isn’t quite sure what ensues after — it all kind of happens in a whirl. all he really knows is that one minute you’re sitting on his lap and the next, you’re squirming out of his arms, knees hitting the floor and you’re tugging his sweats down to wrap your small hand around his half-hard cock. he bucks up into your fist at the first touch, “woah,” pleasantly surprised. “what …”
you press a kiss right upon the silver barbell that pricks through a thin patch of skin right underneath the fat, mushroom head of his cock. “i just . . wanted it. ‘s this okay?” you’re looking up at him with big, pretty eyes that makes his heart thud just a little bit harder against the cage of his ribs. is this okay? what kind of question was that?
“yeah, baby,” he rasps. “it’s okay.”
you wiggle your hips and hold him upright with your thumb and middle finger as your tongue drags a thick stripe up the underside. he tastes a bit like sweat and soap — you’re borderline drooling when your tongue dips a bit lower to lave over the smooth skin of his heavy balls. eren doesn’t know where the hell women like you come from.
one moment so smart mouthed and slick, giving him rolled eyes, middle fingers, and pouts then the next, all docile and compliant, fluttered eyelashes, glassy eyed, and sweet.
he watches you gather a sloppy mass of spit to drip on his cock and smoothly follow its path with your tongue to ease him into the back of your throat. “awe, fuck,” he tilts his head off onto the seat as his eyes swing back within his skull at the tight warmth your little mouth brings. he adores you, very much so. he doesn’t think anyone else can keep him on his toes the way you do. “god, i fuckin’ love you,” he chuckles softly.
you give a small snicker at his sudden confession and pushes his hoodie up with your other hand, wanting to see the way his abs tauten and stretch each time his piercing hits your gag reflex. you start to attend to a rhythmic, even pattern — keeping your cheeks sucked in to provide a snug grip as you let your drool froth and foam thick bubbles at his base.
eren’s mouth is slightly agape as he watches you through hooded lids, eyes significantly darker than they were five minutes ago. what was once a brilliant teal, now a murky sage.
you lift your eyes up to meet his, establishing steady and solid eye contact and makes sure he keeps looking when you pop off with a pretty gasp, lips swollen and tongue bridged to his tip by a bubbly line of thick saliva. eren shakes his head, “nah, nah,” he’s mumbling lowly, feeling his brain wandering dimly into a darker, more sinister sector where he’s convinced the only two people left on this planet is you and him.
you like to call the sudden stance change a bit scary. you can see his brain practically forming itself around a more assertive, domineering slant by the way his hand presses into the back of your head and forces you back down until your nose is touching the bare skin above his shaft. “there you fuckin’ go,” he grunts lowly, ignoring your coughs and splutters as you jab the edges of your acrylics into the strong meat of his thighs. he forces you off again, just to watch you gasp for air and then shoves you back down a second later. “still not all the way there, doll. want you to drop for me.”
it doesn’t occur to you what drop exactly means until it happens — until you feel your mind go a bit cloudy and dull as your eyes tear and nose start to leak at the rough treatment your throat’s receiving. you drop when your nails stop digging into his skin and you stop holding back which leaves you limp and able to relax your throat to take his cock inside of it fully. then eren pulls you off.
there’s a stifled ringing in your ears as you blink up at him, watching him lean in close while smiling and grabbing you roughly by the face to make your lips pucker. “there you fuckin’ go. this is my good girl,” he gives two firm pats to your face, making you smile and hum, wonderfully dumb and gormless. he pulls you back up onto his lap by your arms, practically snatching off your shorts and popping open the buttons of your body-suit that clipped securely at your crotch. “mmm,” he’s looking up at you while tapping his wet, long cock upon the fat of your dripping pussy.
you mewl and circle your hips slow, trying your best to just sink down on it but eren’s holding you with one tatted hand by the hip, keeping you from doing so. you’re weak, already sniffling and crying, whimpering out tiny ‘eren, please’s’ as he smiles and ignores you. “fuckin’ filthy, aren’t you?” he dips two of his fingers past your lips to touch your throat when he pushes you down. he feels the way you choke and the way your little throat spasms as your tiny pussy gets split open by the fat of his cock the more he raises his hips to meet you halfway. “fuuuuuck.”
eren pulls his fingers out to grab you by the soft flesh of your ass and starts to rock up and down slowly, wanting you both to savor it for a minute.
you’re moaning, already a pile of weak goo as you hold onto the hem of his hoodie, staring into his eyes. “feels good?” he asks you quietly. you nod, too dumb to realize that you should probably vocalize it though you can’t. you couldn’t, even if you tried and thankfully, eren understands. “yeah?”
you nod again, this time giving a sweet, “mhm.”
he starts to rock you just a little bit faster and your mouth drops open. eren groans and pushes you faster . . and faster until ultimately you both realize that you’re starting to bounce on your own. the thick meat of your ass is clapping down on his thighs with each rebound and you can hear the slick of your juices mixing in with his as the chair squeaks underneath both of your weight. “just like that,” eren drags his nails down the arch of your back to smack your ass and make you whine. “shit!”
the thread of self-control is shedding into nothing between you both when you trade the bounces to take a firm seat on his thighs and push yourself back and forth, brushing that fucking piercing against that tender tissue of sensitive nerves nestled inside of you that makes drool start to trickle down your chin. eren’s moans are loud as he meets you thrust for thrust. he watches the way your tits move inside your shirt, nipples hard and straining against the cotton.
your hands slip from his shoulders to tangle inside of his hair. “g-gonna make me cum,” you sniff, voice quiet and small. “e-eren, you’re . . y-y’gonna make me cum.”
“gonna make me cum, too, baby.”
there isn’t a word to describe how it feels.
you both go quiet for a moment, working desperately towards your highs with him lifting his hips and you bouncing and it hits like a truck.
you’re loud and eren’s gasping, pulling you in close with both his arms wrapped around your back as if he were hugging you. his cum is seeping past your cervix it feels like . . shooting and gathering into the small crevice of your womb as yours seeps out of you like a waterfall — running and slipping down his balls and to the chair. you’re pulling at his hair, involuntarily tugging honestly, as your body twitches and trembles on the come down. “h-holy shit,” you’re crying you realize, little sobs pushing from your throat. “oh my god.”
you’re both breathing hard and eren groans upon realizing that he isn’t finished. there’s still a buzzing warmth coursing through his veins that makes him run his hands up your sides to your neck to grab your face and pull it from his neck to kiss you. he mumbles something on your lips.
“h-huh?”
he looks up at you, “don’t stop,” he repeats lowly and you let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs you by the hips to start to move you again. “don’t fuckin’ stop.”
“eren.”
you’re positive that you can’t take anymore. your cunt’s already bruised and sensitive, cervix tender and weak . . you can’t take it. you soon realize that you’re babbling this and dragging your nails across his wrists and he’s shaking his head, pupils blown as he stares into your eyes. “you can,” he tells you.
suddenly you feel the world tipping on its axis for a second prior to your back touching the white, faux rabbit-fur rug that lays underneath your vanity as he looms up above you on his spread knees with your calves thrown over his strong shoulders. “you can take it for me.” he pins your hips down when he starts to fuck you. it seems like it’s even faster this time. he’s fucking you like he’s sure in the fact you won’t break. no matter how hard his thrusts are, no matter how far he bends your legs back, no matter how brutal … you won’t break. “ ‘cause you’re my good girl, huh?”
his hair provides a cloak and shields your faces from the rest of the world when he leans down and kisses you. you nod at his question, moaning and hiccuping inside the heat of his mouth. “so fuckin’ good.” it’s so messy . . there’s loud squelches as he fucks the mix of cum in and out of you and it drips over the clefts of your ass and past the silver of skin that separates your pussy from your taint. but it feels unworldly. your eyes cross with each plunge of his cock into the barrier of your cervix. “ohhh god,” you cry through a whimper. “god, eren — god!”
he bites his bottom lip, watching you lose all sense of the world underneath him. “mhm,” he mumbles, swinging his hips harder into yours. “mm, ‘m your god, baby? is that right?”
your answer is immediate, “y-yessss.”
he grabs your face again, squeezing your cheeks until your tongue is forced out of your mouth by the pressure. and when the cushion of pink is placed on display, he gathers a wad of spit on his own to shoot it down into yours. “swallow it.”
you do so with a shiver of bliss and he groans, trembling along with you. “f-fuck, gonna make me cum again, doll.”
you’re begging him to give it to you with your feet dangling in the air above his head. his pounds are focused and hell-bent on doing so. you feel yourself nearing that edge of ecstasy once again — this time with a sharp twinge that makes you clamp your shaking legs at the knees as your face twists up in what looks like pain. eren goes to pull out, growing concerned but then it happens. your cum is splashing and raining out of you in a spew, drenching his hips and the pockets of his hoodie as you gasp and wheeze.
the sight is just enough for his eyes to roll back as his own cum sows your insides — painting creamy white over pretty, bubblegum pink.
you both don’t dare to speak nor move.
you want to bask in the aftermath of this deeply-out-of-fucking-body experience for as long as you possibly can.
but, when it ultimately passes around three minutes later, eren slumps forward with languor and groans, body feeling heavy. you run your fingers through his hair and hold him close, of course.
“i love you,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, a soft kiss following the words which makes you smile. “mm,” you hum in content. “i love you so much more.”
❤︎ — all rights reserved ! © tnyiest !
imagine nerd!eren rejoicing and boasting during his book club about you, Ms. Perfect taking his virginity. He’d be so bashful, face brighter than the ripest apple as he recounts the memories. The boy who was afraid to harm a fly, but fucked you so good that you couldn’t bear come to school the next day, cock drunk. The virgin boy who spilled his cum into you three strokes in, but he was so horny he went on for hours. It was his first time could you blame him, and your pussy was just that good. Goes to the bathroom whips out his phone and scrolls through your instagram stroking his dick because he misses you so much and heads right back to his club being the good student he is.
pussy whipped
nerd!eren who comes to your house to “check” up on you, sweater wrapped knuckles knocking on your front door. Greeted by your mom who then takes him upstairs to your room. “umm… y/n I-I was just wondering,” he’d begin pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turning his face away cause he’s that embarrassed “could we do it again, cause it felt really really good.”
OCTOBER 1ST. VENOM
“eyes. lungs. pancreas. so many snacks, so little time.”
♱ — katsuki bakugou + monsterfucking.
♱ — synopsis; katsuki’s been a bad fiancé recently, he tries to tell himself that it’s all in his head ( literally ) and when his neglectful behaviour nearly ruins your engagement dinner — he has no choice but to make it up to you, with the help of a little symbiotic friend.
♱ — length; 5K
♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of eating people, monsterfucking, dry humping, tentacles, overstimulation, pussy jobs, public sex, clothed sex, oral sex ( f!receiving ), pegging ( m!receiving ), fem!reader, venom!bakugou. not beta read !
♱ — notes; waaa!! hello everyone, welcome back to kinktober!! im so happy to be participating again, i hope you all enjoy whats in store for this year. starting with this baddie !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪
“just eat her…katsuki…”
“no, you can fuck right off.”
“why not? she is unpleasant…katsuki…its not like we like her anyways…”
for the first time that night, katsuki indulges the mangled voice in his head— listening to the symbiotic alien that sludges through his voice and his body. venom is right. he hates his mother in law, soon to be mother in law, but the practicalities of it all aren’t what matter. red eyes drift to the devil’s incarnation of a woman, traditional yet rude and deserving of a beat down— katsuki thinks. if he could just take a bite, crunch down on the woman’s skull and swallow her whole, all of his problems would be solved.
“goodness, bakugou,” the woman leers with a nasty curl of her sweaty upper lip. “i’m paying for the wedding not for you to be dressed like a complete slob— you look awful, and at my only daughter’s engagement party!” she drones on and if venom were to murder this woman right now, she really would deserve it.
“see? you are a loser, bakugou.”
he wasn’t dressed that bad, sure, it wasn’t the burgundy blazer and pressed white shirt you’d told him to pick up from the dry cleaners on the way home from work but— it was smart casual, a nice pair of jeans and a smart jacket. you liked that. that’s all that mattered.
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