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#tw alcohol mention
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Lunar: What are those?
Moon: Honey whiskey.
Solar: Blueberry margarita.
Eclipse: Vodka cranberry.
Sun: Everclear.
Lunar: You all have issues.
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artoatsblog · 3 days
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Obligatory TF2 job swap au
Dell the scout- A living cartoon character, wears roller skates, has a stretchy arm that was given to him by Mick and sure he had to get his hand cut off but we all have to make sacrifices, thinks he's smarter than you and is probably, goes through a bunch of "rabbit season/duck season" type beats daily.
Jeremy the soldier- A military brat who's never been in the military, he can't feel pain and got his legs blown off by rocket jumping but he got over it.
Jane doe the pyro- Everyone thinks they're a mindless killing machine and there right, can't talk just growls and barks, very animal like (especially dog like!) in general, he was made to be Marasmus's familiar but ran away.
??? the spy- Their gender place of origin name and even their face are completely unknown to everyone by design as per usual, he still sees everything in pyrovision (or spyvision if you prefer) she knows that's not how everyone else sees the world but they can't tell a psychiatrist because that will reveal something about him self and "make her vulnerable", friends with soldier :) spy loves how useful his big dumb puppy is and Jane thinks spy is nice :) the only reason some of the Mercs know Jane's name is because Jane managed to mumble it out to spy.
Sebastian the medic- Squidward core, hates his job, he isn't as dangerous as the og medic But somehow manages to still get a lot of medical malpractice in just because he simply does not care, puts organs in the wrong places and uses the wrong type constantly, he's still Jeremy's father but he's not going to tell him that lol.
Ludwig the heavy- Vary deranged yet nice, in love with demo and he does the most gory love letters ever created which demo is simultaneously horrified and strangely appreciative of, gets all the animal parts for medic.
Mikhail the demo- The only person here who has common sense despite his intense love for vodka, only got this job to support his family but that doesn't mean he can't love it, his relationship with heavy can be accurately described as "What is wrong with him and why do I need him."
Travis the sniper- Considered a failure by his family and they don't talk to each other because he doesn't work with explosives, thinks animals are better than people his only human friend is Jane because Jane is more animal than human anyway.
Mick the engineer- Got rid of both of his legs to replace them with sentries, looks calm and sensible but he isn't trust me, still lives in a van because he doesn't want to talk with anyone, also still throws jarate at people because he's Mick muddy.
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ao3-crack · 2 months
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mechamedusa · 11 months
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high for this — happy bday bkg !
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— 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 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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“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.”
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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.”
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anthonycrowley · 1 year
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incorrectbatfam · 1 month
Conversation
[sipping wine on the couch]
Selina: I love you.
Bruce: Was that you or the wine talking?
Selina: That was me talking to the wine.
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tiktoksthataregood-ish · 10 months
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rox-and-prose · 1 year
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I remember as a kid reading about reports of spontaneous human combustion from books that obviously wanted you to believe that it was a thing but routinely at the end of each account or article or whatever there'd be this sort of off handed "oh and yeah he did have a habit of getting drunk and passing out next to bonfires wearing his trademark oil-soaked newspaper suit but who can say for sure" and even as a kid I remember being like I Have Solved The Mystery
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tactax-art · 1 year
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Ghost baited Soap into a drinking contest and lost so bad he can't walk, now Soap is carrying him back to base while having the leftovers ♥️
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rinhaler · 3 months
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MY BOYFRIEND'S BACK, AND HE'S COOLER THAN EVER!
CHAPTER SUMMARY : Bags are packed, parents are disappointed, and Chigiri has arrived to ride up to the Itoshi family cabin together !
ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader
WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol mention.
WORDS : 4k
notes : me vs wanting to fuck almost everyone in the cabin 😩
LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER
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“Ready to go?” Chigiri asks, coming inside to assess the situation. He looks at your enormous suitcase and several travel bags before looking back at you with a quirked brow. You look away from him quickly, pretending something on your phone has caught your attention. “You know we’re only going for a week, right?”
“I want to be prepared!”
“It’s crazy,” he laughs, “because I know that somehow you’re gonna come home with more things than you left with.”
“Not true! Your birthday presents are in here!” you smile, shaking the large gift bag in your hand. He tries to take it from you to peak at what’s inside, but you move it out of his reach.
He pouts.
You pout harder.
“Fine, I’ll carry the heavy suitcase. Even though it’s my birthday week.”
“Thank you Chigs~!”
“Don’t call me that~!” he repeats in your sing-song voice.
You laugh, picking up another bag and carrying it to the car. You load them into the back before rushing into your house again and getting the last few bags. He takes them for you, allowing you to lock the door. If you’d had more warning, you definitely would have gotten a house sitter. But you’re trying not to worry about that, you just want to get on the road and leave all of your worries behind.
Worries, including your family. The family who are less than impressed that you’re abandoning them to spend a boozy week with friends instead of them. You don’t care, though. You delivered their gifts and wished them well.
It’s stupid, really, that they’re so frustrated that you won’t be spending time with them. You can’t stomach spending time with your dad and his new girlfriend. He knows you can’t control your face and you say the first thing that comes to your mind.
You inherited that from him.
Your mother however, was devastated when you told her. You figured she’d be okay since she has a larger family to spend the holidays with. But you’re her only child, you suppose you are being a little selfish.
It’s something you have to do though, you feel. You’re not over Rin and you don’t want to spend Christmas with family grieving what should have been you and him spending the day together. This way, you get to actually have fun. It’s not forced or superficial to keep up appearances for your relatives.
No one is going to expect anything of you at the cabin.
“I’m proud of you,” Chigiri smiles, looking at you briefly before focusing back on the road. You scoff, turning the radio up in the car, Mariah Carey blasting through the speakers. You both groan before he hands you the aux cord. “Not in a cringe way. I just mean, I know you’re a people pleaser. So I’m impressed that you put yourself over your parents.”
“Ugh, they were both so disappointed in me. I spent thousands on presents for them both. I even got some toys for my stepdad’s ratty step-kids. What more can I do?”
“God they are ratty.”
“They’re giving Damien from The Omen.” you tell him, both of you laughing loudly as one of your playlists plays softly through the speaker. You turn it up a little, both of you whooping as you hear Boss Bitch by Doja Cat play. “I know I was shitting myself when Sae texted, but I’m so glad we’re doing this.”
“Me too, I was dreading spending my birthday with your miserable ass.” he chuckles and you slap his arm lightly. “Wait! I know you’re still down about Rin, so, this will be a fun distraction. Plus I bet you end up hooking up with one of Sae’s friends, you haven’t had your rebound yet.”
“I am not doing another footballer, I can’t.” you shake your head.
You both laugh lightly and carry on chatting about the events to come. It’s like a weeklong party, essentially. And ever since you’ve known Chigiri, you’ve both loved a party. But it’s never actually the party itself.
The days before a party are always the best. Whether you’re hosting or attending, it’s always exciting. A theme is always ideal but not essential. Either way, you’ll spend weeks talking about it. Who’s going? What will you wear? What are you gonna drink?
You go on numerous shopping trips and buy endless amounts of clothes until you find the perfect outfit. Only to wear it that night and never again. But it’s worth it, every time. Hearing people compliment how gorgeous you look never gets old.
No one’s words meant more to you than Rin’s, though. The way he’d rest his hand in the small of your back while showing you off made you feel like a princess. He’d whisper sweet nothings about how you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and the things he wanted to do to you when you got home. It made your legs weak and your face flush with heat. And yet, he was always so calm. So cool. He liked to rile you up and pay you no mind as you look up at him expectantly. Acting as if he hadn’t said something so salacious and lewd while chatting with guests.
It drove you wild.
But, truthfully, where your best friend is concerned, your favourite part of a party is the morning after. If he spent the night at your place, especially. You’d wait for him to message you to let you know he’s awake and leave Rin’s side while he was snoring softly. Hyoma can’t handle his drink, and you’re no better. You’d crawl into bed with him and burrow under the duvet after handing him some water and painkillers.
Hungover or not, though, you loved gossiping with him. You’d trade stories about what happened throughout the night and things you heard. It made your day; it made the hangover worth it.
And now, you’re driving towards a week’s worth of that.
You groan as the song changes from Doja Cat to Lust for Life by Lana Del Rey.
“Nope!” he objects, “What kind of psychopath has Doja and Lana on the same playlist?” Chigiri asks, skipping the song. You throw your head back against the headrest, sighing as you think about Rin, again.
The album featuring the eponymous song is one of the first gifts Rin gave you. In vinyl form, of course, along with a pink record player. You had a record player already, but you told him a few times that you’d always wanted a pink one. It was a birthday gift, you remember crying so much as you unwrapped it.
“And I thought we could listen to this together.” you reminisce on him telling you as he handed the album to you. You told him you’d never listened to it before when you were going through her discography. It was a throwaway comment you didn’t think he’d even remember.
You cried listening to the self-titled song, wrapped up in his arms as he held you close. Truthfully, you’ve never felt so loved. And unfortunately, you don’t think you will again. You told him, repeatedly, how in love with him you were.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you after that.
“I need to make a new playlist.” you sigh, Chigiri nods, agreeing. “You’re right, Doja and Lana on the same playlist is psycho behaviour.”
“And you’re only just realising this?” he laughs again.
“I bet he’s got a new girlfriend now. Girls always threw themselves at him, even when we were together.” you tell him. “Oh my God, I miss him. I miss him so much I feel sick. I can’t do this.”
“Shut up.” he tells you, sternly, “I haven’t seen anything on his socials about a girlfriend, but that’s none of your business anymore anyway.”
“You’re still on his socials?”
“… anyway…”
“You know how private he is, Hyoma. If he’s seeing someone he wouldn’t post about her.”
“He posted you.” he reminds you, and you shrug defeatedly. “Besides, you broke up with him. You ended things and you’re still heartbroken. Imagine how depressed he probably is. He’s a workaholic, too. He’s probably distracting himself with work, not girls.”
Hyoma always knows what to say. Deep down, you knew that. But you never would have thought about it until he said. It was a miracle that he even asked you out, after all. His friends never failed to tell you how surprised they were. He’s too focused on football to bother with girls.
But you… you were different.
“You’re self-sabotaging, idiot.” Chigiri tells you. “We’ll get there, we’ll have fun, and you won’t think about Rin at all. I’m banning Rin talk for the rest of the week.”
“Fine fine fine.” you relent, shaking your body in an attempt to dispel any further thoughts of your ex. Though, to be honest, Sae might make it hard to not think about or discuss him. He’s his brother, after all. You can’t expect him to not talk about his little brother. And you certainly can’t ask him not to. “You’re gonna love the cabin. It’s huge. And there’s a lake we can ice skate on.”
“Perfect, can’t wait.”
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There are several cars parked outside as you pull up. Chigiri parks, but is frozen in place as he looks at the cabin. It’s clear that the place is not what he expected. You end up leaving him alone to process his thoughts as he drinks it in. It’s the closest he’ll get to feeling like a celebrity, he suspects.
He follows you out, rushing to help you lift your suitcase as you struggle under the weight of it. You smile, gratefully, as he drags it towards the cabin. You decide to pick up his much smaller suitcase as well as all of your other bags. It isn’t hard to keep up with him as he struggles to pull your luggage through the snow.
“This isn’t a cabin. I was expecting a log shack with a few amenities. This is a mansion.” Chigiri tells you as you walk by his side. You giggle, agreeing, you felt exactly the same way the first time you came here with Rin.
You walk up the stairs ahead of him and knock on the door, starting to shiver as the biting winter air begins to attack you.
Chigiri manages to get your suitcase to the top of the stairs before anyone even knows you’ve knocked. He’s cold, tired, and impatient, and decides to ring the doorbell. You can both hear music playing inside.
It gets louder once the door swings open, and you see a familiar face.
“Oh hey, are you the little sister?” Oliver asks, forgetting that you’ve met before. You assume that’s how Sae has been referring to you as when talking to his friends, so, you nod. He smiles at Chigiri and takes your heavy suitcase from him, lifting it with ease as he welcomes you in. “They’re all in the lounge, grab yourselves a drink from the kitchen.” he tells you, winking as he sets down your case with all of the others at the bottom of the stairs.
There’s a lot of luggage, though the amount seems to double when you and Chigiri put the rest of yours down. You aren’t sure how many people must be here, but the nerves are setting in.
“She’s cute!” you hear Oliver tell the group as he goes into the lounge, it’s quiet, but you hear it clearly.
“You’ve met her before, idiot.” you hear Sae tell him, his voice getting closer to you as he comes to greet you. “Hey you.” he smiles, hugging you and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You hug him back, feeling surprisingly calmer as you allow yourself to melt into his embrace.
You aren’t sure why, but you were worried he’d be weird with you when he saw you in person. This is only the second time you’ve seen him since you and Rin split, after all. The first was a coffee date to explain your side of things face to face. You’re happy you decided to keep in contact with Sae, he’s been so sweet and supportive through it all.
So, really, you aren’t sure why you expected him to be off with you.
Especially since he invited you here.
“Nice to meet you, man.” Sae smiles at Chigiri, holding his hand out to shake, which he does. “Your birthday is on the 23rd, yeah? We’ll plan something fun.”
“Being here is fun enough, don’t worry.” Hyoma responds, looking around. “This isn’t a cabin, by the way.” he laughs.
Sae laughs too, walking back towards the lounge. “Come meet everyone.” he insists. You and Chigiri look at each other, but follow.
You’re the only girl here, by the looks of things. You aren’t sure if that’ll change or not though. Maybe they all have partners who are arriving together later. You’re a little surprised by the headcount, you were expecting more. Including Sae, there’s only four of them sitting around the fire, drinking together.
“Apparently we’ve met before?” Oliver’s brows knot in contemplation, and you nod. “Sorry, sweetheart. Normally I don’t forget a pretty face.”
“Yeah ya do, bullshitter.” Tabito snickers, looking up at you from his seat on the floor. You’ve never met Karasu, but you’ve heard a lot about him. Mostly from Rin about when they used to play together. And you may or may not have stalked his socials before, so you’re familiar with his face. “Nice to meet’cha, heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise.” you smile.
“Do you smoke?” you hear another voice speak as you get further into the room. Your eyes lie on Eita Otoya as he pulls a blunt from behind his ear, and you shake your head. You’re surprised to see them letting loose like this, though you suppose they mustn’t get the chance to often.
Rin found it hard to relax and unwind. He’s always been so career focused, never wanting to do anything to harm his reputation. And you understand that, you do. You’re the same, really. You have an image to maintain, people seem to think being a model is just turning up and looking pretty. But you take it seriously, like Rin.
Though he doesn’t seem to know how to turn it off.
“No Ryusei?” you ask, a little surprised he couldn’t make it.
“Not yet, he should be here soon.” Sae assures you. You laugh, knowing you’re in for a really fun week once Shidou gets here. Sae turns back to look at you, taking you back to the entrance. “I’ll show you to your rooms. Did you want to share? There’s enough for everyone to have their own.”
“She snores, I’ll take my own.” Hyoma tells Sae, earning a smirk from him. You try to argue, but your best friend seems to be too convincing. The rest of the guys join you, offering to help with your bags and carry them up to your room.
And, really, who are you to say no?
Chigiri rolls his eyes, carrying his own case and entering the room Sae had planned for him. You realise Sae is sleeping in the master bedroom downstairs when you see all of the other rooms have been claimed by sneakers and jackets from the other guests, all of them are just too lazy to bring their luggage up.
Though none of them had a problem helping with yours.
Your heart sinks when you realise Sae saved your usual room for you to take. The room you always shared with your ex whenever he brought you here. The guys don’t give you much time to feel sorrowful, though. Not when they’re laughing and joking beside you. Sae notices your forlorn expression, pulling you aside slightly.
“I thought you’d feel comfortable in here, but we can switch if you want.” he tells you, but you shake your head. “Ryusei will be in the opposite room so I’m sure you won’t be thinking about anything other than how annoying he is.” he smiles.
“Thank you, Sae.” you smile, albeit a little weakly. It’s bittersweet, that’s all. “At least I have the best view.” you tell him, opening the doors to the large balcony that looks over the lake. You think about how the nearby town’s lights twinkle at night.
“Right.” he puts a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. “Everyone out, let’s leave her to unpack.” Sae announces, ushering the other three men out of the room.
You smile, waving at them all as they leave. Once they’re out, Sae closes the door behind himself and leaves you alone with your thoughts. As much as you want to sit and dwell on things, you decide to occupy your mind and unpack instead.
You’re startled, a little, when Chigiri comes in to see you. Though you’re relieved when he starts to help.
“You did not need to bring all of this.” he grabs a gold glittery mini stress and holds it up. “I— I’ve never seen this in my life. Oh my God, did you buy new clothes for this? You are trying to get a rebound.”
“No I’m—”
“Yeah, you are.” he stops you immediately. “I’ve been stalking all of their socials in my room, they’re all single. And they all had their tongues hanging out for you when you came in.”
“You work too fast.” you laugh. He shrugs, grabbing a few items of clothing and hanging them up in the wardrobe for you.
You’re thankful for his help, it goes a lot quicker than it would have otherwise. Plus you get to gossip about the week ahead. You try and dodge his questions, but your facial expressions always give you away. You have quite a good poker face, but it doesn’t matter when it comes to Chigiri. He has a way of making you shy and giggly when you’re trying to keep a secret.
“Which one?” he asks, and you tut. “I feel like they’re all your type.” he tells you, handing you your toothbrush to take to the ensuite.
“They are.” you laugh from the other room. You return, zipping up your case and pushing it away. “I’ve always had the hots for Ryusei low key though, but I think Rin would be livid.”
“Rin isn’t here and he’s not our problem.” Chigiri smiles. You both sit on top of your bed and flop backwards with a sigh. He turns his head to the side to look at you while you’re too busy disassociating, staring at the ceiling. “Don’t just do it because you feel like you have to, by the way.”
“What do you mean?” you ask. “Oh, rebound.”
He nods, “We’re here to have fun. So, if you’re going to fuck one of them, do it because it’s fun.”
“I won’t.” you agree. “I’m worried about feeling guilty too… they’re Rin’s friends, after all. I don’t want to upset him.”
As Chigiri is about to respond, he’s stopped by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You smile, widely, when you realise Ryusei is here. Hyoma knows all about Ryusei. His feral replacement whenever Rin used to take you around the world for his away games.
Hyoma isn’t jealous, of course. Especially when he knew you had a little crush on Ryusei. You and Hyoma have only ever been friends, and you’ll never be closer to anyone than you are with each other.
“Should we wait a few minutes so I don’t look desperate?” you ask, sitting upright and resting your bodyweight on one hand as you look down at him.
“Yeah.” he nods.
You nod too. You start lying back down, slowly, looking around at the room as you do. “I can’t.” you tell him, jumping off the bed and heading towards the door. He sighs, but hurries after you.
All of the guests are gathered in the entryway as they greet Ryusei. They exchange hugs and handshakes as they all chat and catch up. You descend the stairs slowly, but not fully, standing at the halfway point with Chigiri as you watch the scene unfold.
His bright smile turns to a look of wonder when he notices you. Eyes softening as he realises you’re here, you’re really here.
“No way…” he smirks, “Hey, kid, how are ya?”
“I’m good,” you nod, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “And you? How are you, Ryu?”
“Better for seeing you,” he laughs. “Didn’t know you were comin’.”
“Shut the door, man, it’s freezing.” Sae tells him, approaching to do it for him. But Ryusei stops him, keeping him at arm’s length so he can’t.
“I actually picked someone up on the way.” Ryusei announces, side stepping a little as he waits for the mystery guest to hurry. Chigiri’s eyes widen in horror, the realisation hitting him before anyone else as he looks at you. You’re too busy feeling deflated that Ryusei has brought a girl along with him.
“Oh no.” Chigiri speaks, and you look at him. “We should go back upstairs.”
“What? Why?” you ask him, confused. Though your attention is forced back downstairs when you see another figure enter the cabin out of your peripheral view.
Your heart sinks.
“Rin?” Sae asks as he watches his younger, yet for some reason taller, brother set down his suitcase.
Your heart keeps plummeting deeper through your body as you watch him, too. God, he looks even better than he did the day you ended things. He’s always been striking, beautiful. Just so God damn handsome. But he looks older, more mature.
You feel your breathing get heavier and more intense the longer you watch him. The way he dusts the snow from his expensive looking coat. And that familiar ruffle of his hair as he fixes it into place.
“You said you weren’t coming.” Sae tells him.
“I changed my mind,” Rin responds, gesturing to Ryusei. “He begged, really.”
Sae holds his eyes shut, sighing. Rin isn’t sure what the issue is. He was invited, after all, he just declined. He expected his brother to be happy to see him, he thought it would be a fun surprise. Though maybe he only invited him out of obligation.
Shidou hadn’t made it seem that way, though.
“Look who’s here.” Ryusei smiles, pointing up at you.
Rin’s weak smile drops to a stoic straight line as he follows his friends directional finger and his sights land on you. You’re frozen. You can’t smile. You can’t say hello. You can’t even wave. You’re just staring at each other, both absolutely paralysed with no idea how to act.
“H— Hi…” you struggle to speak. Hyoma is thankful you’re too distracted looking at Rin to see the way he’s cringing horrendously behind your back, but not showing his face to the lower floor.
“Hey.” Rin responds, even smiling a little when he hears your voice. It’s been so long, after all. “I didn’t know you were coming.” he explains.
“Same…” you tell him, hoping he believes you. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were coming. Wait—” you interrupt yourself when you realise how horrible that sounded.
“Stop talking.” Hyoma whispers, and you clear your throat.
Everyone else seems to see the funny side, all except Rin. He appears a little downtrodden, though he disguises it well. You know him, though. You’re sure he knows you didn’t mean it how it sounded, but you can’t help feeling a little guilty.
“You made it very clear you weren’t coming, Rin.” Sae tells him. “If you said you were coming I—”
“It’s fine. I didn’t know you were still talking, though.” Rin says, the annoyance in his voice very evident. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to hurt you or if it’s just Rin being Rin. “But we’re adults. I’m sure we can co-exist for a week, right?” he asks, looking at you with his intense, teal gaze.
“R—Right…”
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pfhwrittes · 1 month
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oh god here we go. alright read the fucking warnings. 
18+ ONLY
TW: noncon, somnophilia, male masturbation, spit, facial, alcohol mention.
pairing: john “soap” mactavish x female reader
word count: 966 words of smut.
AN: this is @kaadaaan's fault. also i wrote this all in one go with minimal editing because my brain was being rotted and i needed to get it out. poor grammar and typos are likely, for that i apologise.
-- johnny is your friend, he’s been your friend for a long long time and as such he has a key to the door to your house to use and your blessing that he can just drop in whatever time he likes when he’s on leave. it’s not uncommon for you to come downstairs in the morning to find him sprawled out on your sofa wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, one foot planted on the rug under the sofa and the other hanging off the armrest. 
he’s larger than life, your johnny. the other half to your brain sometimes. jokingly referred to as your brother from another mother. you love him, but only as a friend. despite that, he’s got a key to your house and a piece of your heart because you know he’ll never do anything to hurt you.
johnny on the other hand doesn’t love you like a sister. he loves you with a capital L and something feral behind his eyes. his smile always goes a little too sharp whenever you crack that “joke” that you love him like a brother because he knows if you knew the way he’d been thinking about you for years you’d have locked up your heart and house tight instead of inviting the wolf to stay. 
-
that obsession is how he ends up in this position, just like he has countless times before, standing like a sentinel at your bedside. the only light to see your gorgeous face is the streetlight that curls probing fingers through the thin curtains of your bedroom window. you’re beautiful like this. he honestly doesn’t know how his gaze hasn’t woken you yet, surely you can feel the way he traces every shadow and highlight on your face. surely you can feel the way he stares at your open mouth, driven to madness by the slight spit at the corners of your mouth. fuck it’s almost too much for him. but still he stands frozen, just watching. never touching. not until tonight.
you’d both been drinking. johnny had switched to water part way through the night, you hadn’t and so with johnny’s help you’d stumbled up the stairs to your room and passed out flat on your back. not terribly unusual, he’s seen you do it before when you’ve been drinking. he’s heard your snoring through the walls before. but tonight is different. 
later, when he creeps down the stairs to slump onto the sofa, he’ll blame the lingering buzz of alcohol in his blood for daring to do what he’s thought about for so long. but right now, he’s staring at your open mouth watching a faint glimmer of light hit your wet pink tongue and fisting his cock over your sleeping face. grateful for the fact that you always sleep like the dead when you’re drunk and nothing except the world ending could possibly wake you. 
despite the reassurance that you won’t wake - can’t wake - the sound of his hand moving over his cock is loud in his ears. he’s sure the slick noises are drowning out even the gentle open mouth snores you offer into the air. he positive that in mere moments your eyelids will flicker open and you’ll look up at him, your corrupted sentinel, to see the way he’s gripping his cock desperately. his hips jerking in aborted thrusts as he thrusts into the tight fist he’s made around himself.
a groan slips through johnny’s gritted teeth as his thumb swipes another bead of precum over the flushed head of his cock. 
fuck. 
if he doesn’t slow down he knows without a shadow of a doubt he’ll end up coming on your sleeping face. a spurt of precum dribbles from his cock at the thought. oh fuck. he wants that. he wants to come on your face. he wants to let the thick white ropes coat your cheeks and chin. maybe even cover your open mouth with some of his come so you wake up with the taste of him on your tongue. 
johnny’s hips jerk forward as his orgasm blindsides him completely. his eyes roll back into his head and he whines desperately through his nose, teeth sinking into his lower lip to trap the moan that's burning his throat. 
moments or maybe aeons later, his vision clears and he looks down at you. 
“fuckin’ hell” it’s whispered, part reverence for the sight that greets him, part fear of waking you prematurely. 
your face is covered. johnny’s come drips from your cheeks. it slides down the curve of your jaw onto your neck where it pools, glimmering in the low light, before dribbling onto your pillow. a pearlescent string clings to your top lip and then - and johnny swears he feels his cock twitch out another dribble at the sight - you lick it off.
johnny takes a step backwards from you on shaky legs. he needs to leave, now. if he doesn’t, christ he doesn’t know what he’d do to you. he doesn’t want to find out how far the depths of his depravity go. he doesn’t want to know if he could get away with scooping some of his come off your chin and pushing it into your mouth. he doesn’t want to know if that would be enough for the taste to linger in the morning when you wake up.
with one last lingering look at your face he tucks himself back into his boxers and leaves you. covered, marked, his. 
-
in the morning you wake with blurry eyes and a thick head. god you’d really had too much to drink last night. you smack your lips together and frown at the taste in your mouth. it’s sour and slightly musky. 
oh well, you must’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open again.
--
here be kink taglist: @kaadaaan ; @waves-against-a-cliff ; @acenby-weirdo ; @greatstormcat
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bamsara · 1 year
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Sometimes u just gotta climb ti the roof of a church after a drink or two. It is that time I am on the roof
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star-trek-shallot · 4 months
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Kirk: Wait, what? Vodka is made from fucking potatoes?
Chekov: ...You don't have to fuck the potatoes, no.
source: @hassankhadair on insta
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pigeonwit · 4 months
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Tipsy Davey is a lovely Davey, easy to blush and fluster – it doesn’t take much more than a smile to send him giggling into his glass, and it drives Jack’s own ego to dangerous heights. He could spend whole nights murmuring compliments in Davey’s ear, tracing his knuckle against Davey’s thigh, listening to him giggle against Jack’s own temple, feebly nudging him away (and letting him come right back) and mumbling "Jackie, stop…" without meaning a word of it.
And then there’s Drunk Davey, when his flush settles high on his cheeks and his bashfulness settles with it. He loses that nervousness he keeps underneath his skin that’s always pulling him back just a little, telling him not to come on too strong. He touches freely, whispers the pads of his fingertips over Jack’s wrists enough to drive him insane, sweeps over the bridge of Jack’s freckled nose and murmurs, “Glory be to God for dappled things…”. The bitter little middle-schooler that still lives in Jack’s mind has always thought that poetry was something just too dorky to be attractive, but that bitter little middle-schooler sure shuts the hell up when Davey whispers pretty things in Jack’s ear on a dark corner of the dance floor. Jack’s not complaining at all.
And then there’s Jack’s favourite – Truly Shitfaced Davey. He’s a rare gift, reserved only for New Years, birthdays and Halloween parties, if his costume is slutty enough. Jack can recount every single Truly Shitfaced Davey encounter he’s ever had, and while they’re nowhere near as suave as Drunk Davey, they are by all means his favourites.
“Face,” Davey mumbles, poking Jack’s cheek and marvelling at the squish of it. Jack has to bite his lip not to laugh.
“Yeah, babe?” He asks sweetly, because he is a wonderful boyfriend, thank you very much.
“Your face… It – you…” Davey’s face pinches as he tries to find his words underneath the drunk haze that’s blanketing his brain. He promptly gives up and groans, waving an arm dismissively as he burrows into Jack’s side. “S’good.”
Jack grins, pressing a kiss to the curls tickling his face. He gives up on trying to stifle his smile – Davey’s too drunk to care, and far too drunk to notice the way he’s staring inquisitvely at Jack’s lips the way he usually stares at a good book.
“Thanks, Davey-mine. Your face is good, too.”
Davey stares at him for a moment, mouth squared and silent for a little too long, until he makes a strangled little squeak and ducks his face into Jack’s neck.
“Shuddup!” He orders as Jack laughs, but he can’t help it. As much as he loves Davey when he’s reciting sonnets from memory, he especially loves him speechless, if only for the novelty of it.
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crimson-cherry · 2 years
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Lloyd: *calls alcohol juice*
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incorrectbatfam · 4 months
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Alfred and Cass headcanons, please?
Not really a headcanon but every time I see them I think of this post:
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