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Katsuki knows she's in trouble when she finds herself sprawled out in bed on a Saturday afternoon, endlessly scrolling through her phone, instead of doing anything productive. Hours drift by as she skims posts, hops between apps, and mindlessly absorbs whatever pops up next. For most girls her age, this kind of thing is considered normal, but Katsuki likes to believe she’s different.
The thought of wasting time like this makes her itch, a slow burn crawling under her skin. She’s got things to do and a life to build. School, work, taking over the family business—it’s all part of her carefully curated five year plan.
She’s got her priorities straight, set in stone, and wasting time worrying about likes or followers has never been part of the deal.
Except, today feels different. It’s like her body has other ideas, her hormones steering the ship and taking her along for the ride. Not that she’s engrossed by an instagram post or some short video meant for people with the attention span of a cockroach. No, she’s doing something far worse.
Because someone needs to explain why she’s been tangled in bed all afternoon, watching porn and reading erotica, her cunt wet and soaking through the twisted sheets beneath her. Her body’s been ablaze all day, a furnace of need, legs rubbing together in search of any relief.
She presses circles into her clit, desperate for friction, while the heat between her thighs builds into a slick mess, staining her gray shorts with a dark, sticky patch. Her fingers move faster, harder, from gentle strokes to frantic, needy thrusts, but it’s not enough.
She’s starving, hollow, left aching for something deeper.
At one point, she takes a pillow and places it between her thighs. Rocking her body, thrusting her hips in search of that sweet release.
It’s stupid, she knows. Her body’s looking for something she hasn’t even experienced, but the wanton need for satisfaction is becoming almost cruel that she wants to cry.
Her phone’s still blasting vulgar moans and grunts, and Katsuki is either annoyed by it or envious. Whatever the case is, all she knows is that nothing’s really doing it for her, so she props her phone against her headboard and flips herself over, riding her pillow. With all her energy, she mounts the damn thing and hopes that it would do at least something.
She bounces on it, feeling her tits spring. The friction of the fabric against her cunt makes her moan. With her eyes closed, she pictures a faceless body driving inside her, making her bloom. Her fingers curl around the pillow covers as the sound of skin slapping against skin surprisingly helps move her imagination forward.
Just as she’s getting into it, her phone momentarily pauses and the video’s interrupted by a chime: a package is on its way to her, arriving in about five minutes.
Katsuki would have been pissed at the interruption, except she isn’t. Now, the imaginary guy she’s riding has a face, as much as she hates to admit it.
In five minutes, she’s going to see that stupid ass delivery guy with shark teeth and shitty as fuck hair. He looks ridiculous, all smiles and kind eyes that rake over her body every time they encounter each other.
It’s been months and months of flirtation and the idiot still hasn’t even texted her, and she knows he has her number from their database.
“Stupid Kirishima,” she finds herself saying. She jerks her hips more aggressively, clings to the pillow tighter.
Her mind flashes his face, all sweaty and dazed. He’d watch her as she rides him, amazed at how good she is taking his cock.
“I bet it’s small,” she says. “Stupid fucking idiot.”
And Katsuki would drive him insane, drawing out all kinds of lewd sounds from him. He would cry her name over and over until it’s the only word he could say. She’d sit on his face and soak him with all of her. He’d never want anyone else.
Katsuki whimpers. She grabs her breasts and plays with them, like she knows he would. Her hands are definitely smaller than his, and her pussy throbs at the thought of those big hands fully covering her chest.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Riding the waves of ecstasy, propelled by nothing but her wild imagination, Katsuki’s pussy begins to twitch in earnest. She’d grab Kirishima’s tanned shoulders and let her face fall on the crook of his neck. He’d be all sweaty and rank, and Katsuki would lick all of him.
“That’s pathetic,” she tells herself, but she isn’t stopping either.
The only thing that makes her pause is a ring from her phone. Cursing, she answers it.
“Hi, Miss Katsuki.” The familiar low and raspy voice is cheerful on the other line. “Are you home? Your package is here.”
It takes Katsuki a second to gather her bearings. She has to stop herself from telling him she’d like to see his package instead.
What a dumb thing to think. Silently, she rolls her eyes at her stupidity.
“Hello? Miss Katsuki?”
She snaps out of it.
“One second,” she answers, catching her breath. “I’ll be right out.”
She jumps off her bed, thighs still sticky and forehead sweaty. One glance at the mirror tells her she isn’t the most presentable, with her low hanging and threadbare tank top and slick-stained shorts.
For a moment, she contemplates on changing. Kirishima should not see her like this because it feels scandalous to open the door and welcome him while looking disheveled.
Mischief wins, however, and she decides she’d like to see him blush and coyly avert his eyes as if looking at her in paper-thin clothes would open the gates of hell for him.
For months, they’ve been dallying in coquetry, playing a silent game of who could make the other make the first move. Countless times have they teetered on the edge —a touch here, a playful smile there, a lingering look—and neither of them wants the other to win.
Katsuki hates losing. She’ll break him today.
So, with a smirk on her face, she fixes her hair into a messy bun, tugs at her tank top so her cleavage is peeking, and pulls her shorts up to snug it tight against her pussy. It’s still splotched wet and her camel toe is clearly visible.
Kirishima would short circuit. God, she hopes he’d jerk off to her tonight. She surely would rub her pussy to thoughts of him after this. Though to be honest, she’d rather not have him play with himself to thoughts of her, but play with her instead.
Her primordial need to see where this could go puts a spring in her steps, and she strides to the entrance as a woman with a mission.
When she opens the door, the effect on Kirishima is immediate. With his mouth hanging open, he drops his pen and clipboard, staring at Katsuki like he’s seen a ghost. His usually dorky look is made even dorkier – stunned while wearing his silly uniform. He looks like an overgrown boy scout caught having a boner.
This would be fun.
Her plans are set in motion, and Katsuki is aflare with determination to drive him insane.
“You dropped this,” she says, bending down to pick his things off the floor. If her loose top gives him a preview of the pink buds hiding beneath, Katsuki has no problems with it.
“Thank you.” His hand brushes hers when he takes them.
“You clumsy idiot,” she says. “Where do I sign?”
Kirishima’s eyes are trained on her face. Katsuki is set to divert his attention where she wants it.
She leans closer, brushing her chest against his forearm. From the touch, Kirishima swallows. Pleasure erupts from Katsuki’s core.
“Just here,” Kirishima says, handing her the pen and clipboard.
Perking up, Katsuki says, “Okay.” but she doesn’t take the forms from him. She simply signs while he’s still holding the clipboard, leaning closer and pleased as punch when she feels the slightest tremble from his usually steady hands.
“Where is it?” she asks after signing.
“What?”
Katsuki pouts, more playful than anything. “You know, I was busy with something and you ruined it and now you’re playing dumb again.”
He still isn’t responding.
“Hey.” She nudges him with her shoulder, and when he looks at her, she makes sure to bat her eyelashes at him. Playful and bashful, begging his desires to come out. “My package?”
“…looks amazing,” he says.
“What?” She tries to sound more assertive, but a giggle sneaks in from behind her throat.
“What?” He repeats. They lock eyes for a moment and he seems to wake up from whatever fantasy is playing in his head. He coughs and snaps his head, then turns his body to grab a box from the ground.
“Here,” he says. He hands her the box and the weight of it almost makes her tumble forward.
He catches her, though.
“You okay?” He asks. His large hands steady her, holding her by her forearms.
“Heavy,” she says.
His eyes are not looking at the box, but he says, “I bet they are.”
Katsuki bites her lips. “Make yourself helpful and put this inside,” she says, dumping the box in his arms.
“What is this?”
“Books,” she answers. She slides and opens the door wider, jerking her head to beckon him inside.
Once he walks into her home, she closes the door behind her and trudges to overtake him. She sways her hips before bending down the coffee table to remove the scattered magazines and knickknacks atop it.
“You can put it here.” She straightens herself and when she turns around, she comes face to face with his arms, all veiny and strained from holding the heavy box.
He puts the package aside quietly.
“You look flushed,” she tells him. “Are you okay?”
His tongue swipes at his lips while his eyes prey on her. “A little parched,” he says. “Would it be too much trouble to ask for a glass of water?”
“Fine,” she says. “Sit down and don’t touch anything.”
Turning around to head to the kitchen, she smiles to herself after seeing how red his face is and how his ugly khaki shorts fail to hide the outline of his bulge that’s obviously seeking relief.
She takes a glass of water and a pitcher more in case he needs a refill, and she takes her time with her pace as she walks to him.
“Here, you buffoon.”
“Thanks, Ms. Katsuki,” he says. He drinks it, slowly, with a tiny bead dribbling down the side of his lips, down to his chin before it drips silently to his thigh, leaving a wet mark.
That isn’t the only wet mark on his shorts.
“Well,” he says, slapping his thighs with both hands before standing up. “Thanks for the water, Ms. Katsuki. I have to go.”
“Mhm,” she hums, training her face to hide the bubbling disappointment. “You still have other deliveries?”
“A couple,” he says. “Not that much, though.”
They are at a standstill, quiet in the middle of her living room. Kirishima is rocking on his heels, swaying his hands from front to back and clapping his hands together, like a child waiting for a treat. Katsuki, on the other hand, watches him. Her arms are crossed under her breasts, propping them so her cleavage juts out.
“So this is your house, huh?” Kirishima pipes up. He’s still doing that weird thing with his arms, but this time, his head is going in circles, eyes observing every nook and cranny of Katsuki’s apartment.
“Yup,” she says.
“Nice,” he answers. “I like it. Cozy.”
“Uh-huh.” She nods. “Cozy.”
“Cozy.”
“Hmm.”
“I should… yeah.” Kirishima bends his knees and points to the door. What a doofus.
“You’re going?” Katsuki pipes.
“Do you… not want me to?” Kirishima stands straight.
“I don’t care,” she says.
“Right,” he answers. “Then I’ll just… yeah.” He walks forward.
Katsuki follows.
“I’m really…” Kirishima trails, “...going.” He pauses and looks back.
“Are you?” Katsuki asks.
“Am I?”
“You’re leaving with a boner?” The realization that she said that is immediate and Katsuki’s hands fly to her mouth. “I mean-”
“You mean-” Kirishima turns around, aura different from a few seconds earlier. “You’ve been looking?”
“It’s pretty up in my face, dumbass!” she says.
He looks down at his shorts. “That obvious, huh?”
“Duh.”
“Almost as obvious as what you’re doing,” he says, moving forward.
“And what am I doing?” Katsuki stands her ground. Even as he towers over her with his shadow looming on her face, she makes sure to make him quiver.
“Are you tempting me, Miss Katsuki?”
“Are you tempted?”
Something sounds from Kirishima’s chest, one that closely resembles whatever’s between a growl and a cry. “When you stepped out of your room looking like…”
“Looking like?”
“Like this,” he says. He holds the strap of Katsuki’s top between his index finger and thumb, running his skin along the fabric.
Katsuki shudders. Closes her eyes.
“Like this,” he repeats. “Like you came straight out of my dream.” He wets his lips. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“You dream about me? Pretty pathetic.”
“How could I not?” he asks. His features soften, and he’s smiling toothless, those kind eyes sparkling with sincerity. Katsuki almost feels bad for him. She’s about to destroy his resolve.
“You like it?” He asks.
“Do I like what?”
“That I think about you?”
Katsuki doesn’t answer.
Kirishima’s hand is still on the strap of her top, fiddling with the flimsy string.
“I’ve actually been thinking about you a whole lot,” he says. “God, I feel like such a pervert.”
“You are,” says Katsuki, “a pervert.”
“Sorry,” he answers. He bends down slightly to grab her wrist. “But you know what I think, Miss?”
Slowly, Kirishima lifts her hand to his face. He kisses the inside of her wrist. He kisses her fingers. Then, he smells them.
“I think you’re just as perverted as me.”
Heat rises to Katsuki’s face. She stops functioning for a microsecond, embarrassment flooding her entire being.
“I can still smell you,” Kirishima says. He’s grinning with mischief. Bites his lips. Licks them wet.
The neurons in her brain have stopped firing. A silent voice whispers that she should yank her hand back and assert herself, but Katsuki’s subconscious suddenly falls deaf. Plus, his fingers wrapped around her stirs a welcomed warmth.
“What were you doing before I came here?” he asks.
“None of your damn business.” Her voice comes out frail.
“Hmmm.” He doesn’t let go and takes another sniff. “Doesn’t smell like nothing.”
“Let go of me,” she says weakly. She says it without meaning, and her voice reveals her intentions.
“I will,” he answers. “If that’s what you want.”
“But what do you want?” Katsuki asks.
“If I answer that, can you handle it?”
“I can handle you.”
Those words awaken a beast in Kirishima. He growls and grabs Katsuki by the base of her neck, staring at her with saturated want.
“You know what you’re doing,” he says. He smiles at her. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”
“Coward,” she snaps.
Baring his teeth, Kirishima snarls and leans forward. With his face a few centimeters away from Katsuki’s, he says, “If I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“You certainly don’t know how to stop fucking talking.”
“You’re gonna regret that,” he says.
Kirishima crashes his lips into hers, swallowing her words in a searing kiss. It's rough, hungry, and full of everything unsaid between them. His grip tightens around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, leaving no space between their bodies. Katsuki’s heart hammers in her chest as her free hand curls into his shirt, clinging for balance as the intensity of it threatens to make her legs give out.
She finds herself giving in, kissing him back just as fiercely. Heat spreads from her chest to the tips of her fingers, fueling the firestorm raging between them.
Kirishima’s lips part slightly, his tongue brushing against hers in a teasing challenge, and it makes her pulse pound even harder. She tugs at his hair, tugging him even closer, feeling the low groan rumble from his throat as he deepens the kiss, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
There’s no air, no sound, no world outside the storm of them colliding—just the raw heat and the way their bodies recognize something primal. When they finally break apart, both of them are gasping for air, the tension crackling in the space between them.
“Still think I’m a coward?” Kirishima breathes out, his voice low and thick with desire.
Chest rising, she answers, “I think you can do better than that.”
Kirishima cocks an eyebrow. A disbelieving smirk splits his face in half.
“You said you won’t be able to stop. Why did you stop?”
“Baby,” he says. His hand falls on the strap of her top again. He pulls it down, revealing her right breast. “I’m just getting started.”
A shiver runs down her spine.
“Perfect,” he says. He pulls the other strap down. Both of her breasts are now on full display.
“This is what we’re gonna do.” He yanks the rest of her top down so that it’s bunched in her stomach. He reaches for her and cups below one breast, squeezing, running circles on the nipple with his thumb. He hums while doing it.
Katsuki is so wet. She bites back a moan.
“You’re gonna show me your room, and I’m gonna fuck you all night. Do you like that, princess?”
She nods.
“Good.” He kisses her, swiping his tongue across her lips. Her eyelashes flutter against his cheek.
“It’s this—” Katsuki takes a deep breath. “—way.”
With Kirishima scooping her up, Katsuki is caught off guard. Once she gets wind of what’s happening, she wraps her arms around his neck.
He kisses her temple, and then her cheeks, and licks her ear.
An ocean forms between her thighs and she nuzzles her face on Kirishima’s neck, feeling the fast rise of his pulse.
They walk towards her room like that— Katsuki cradled in Kirishima’s arms. She oddly feels like a bride on her wedding night.
Once there, he smirks.
“What happened to your pillow?” he asks.
“You talk so damn much. Put your mouth to good use,” she says.
“You’re such a damn brat.” He threatens to throw her on the bed, making the gesture of flinging her, but he doesn’t. He simply laughs and then lays her down gently.
“Your tits look awesome,” he says while grinning.
Katsuki rolls her eyes as he takes off his shoes.
When he moves to climb on the bed, Katsuki raises an eyebrow. “You’re overdressed.”
“We have all the time in the world for me,” he says, “but it looks like you have some urgent needs.”
His eyes flicker to her crotch, making her self-conscious. Instinctively, she brings her thighs together.
He’s quick to sit down by her feet, yanking her legs open.
“You don’t have to be shy,” he says. “Were you thinking about me when you played with yourself earlier, sweetie?”
“Shut up.” She swallows hard.
He, on the other hand, runs his thumb over her shorts, tracing her slit.
“So wet.” His eyes have an unmistakable hunger.
In an instant, he’s on his knees and between her legs, looming over her. Katsuki scoots to sit back and rest against her headboard. Kirishima crawls to follow her until she has no more space.
Finally, he leans down and kisses her, drawing a mewl from her lips.
Katsuki inhales all of him while his hands leave no skin untouched. His fingers lightly graze the side of her neck, ghosting over it to trace the slope to her shoulders.
He pauses and places an insufferable inch of a distance between their lips.
“My god,” he says, “you drive me crazy.” He adjusts his crotch with his entire palm as he says this. The action stirs something in Katsuki, and her eyes could not leave the obvious bulge in his shorts.
“Show me,” she says. “Enough talk. Show me what you have hiding under that hideous uniform.”
Kirishima purrs, “Later, sweetie. I wanna enjoy you first.” He punctuates the sentence by biting Katsuki’s lower lip, tugging it and letting go quickly.
He kisses the corner of Katsuki’s mouth, and then her chin, her jaw, and his tongue traverses every bit of skin and flesh it could reach.
Once on her neck, he stays a while longer, licking and sucking and eliciting cries and whimpers from Katsuki. It feels so fucking good to be devoured and worshipped like Kirishima would die if his lips depart from her.
Her toes curl and her hackles rise from end to end. She chases him like a woman parched, like his kisses are water to her dried land. With his every move, her back arches so she could press their bodies closer together.
Her fingers run along his back as he kisses her collarbone.
He immediately stops her. He grabs both of her hands and locks it with one of his hands, placing them above her head.
She’s completely and totally under his control, but she wants to touch him, to pull his hair, or to touch her own pussy. He doesn’t allow her, though. All she could do is flail weakly and arch her body as he laps her breasts.
His free hand plays with one breast, squeezing, pinching, caressing, while his tongue makes a show of parading around her areola. Satisfaction doesn’t seem to come easy to Kirishima— he licks and sucks and kisses her breasts for minutes on end.
“I won’t stop until the rest of your boobs are the same shade of pink as your nipples,” he says, and it looks like he’s about to make good of his promise.
Under him, Katsuki keens. She rubs her legs together, trying so hard to snap her thighs shut and get some friction where it counts. Of course, she doesn’t find success. Kirishima is wedged between her thighs, his clothed dick sometimes knocking against her crotch.
This is killing her.
While he’s preoccupied trying to swallow her chest whole, Katsuki attempts to rub her pussy against his dick. With all strength and effort, she bucks and grinds her hips against Kirishima, hungry for every bit of contact she could get.
“Is there something you want?” Kirishima asks. Mirth is behind his smiling eyes. The kind that teases, one that’s arrogant.
“I will kill you,” she says.
“You’re already killing me, love.”
He rocks his hips and his crotch touches her. Without meaning to, Katsuki rips out a loud moan from the contact.
“Oh.” Kirishima’s eyes widen. “You like that?”
He rolls his hips again. Katsuki meets him halfway, until her pussy bumps against his hard on. Finally, she distracts him enough that he lets go of her hands, and now she’s quick to unbutton his shirt, revealing the beautiful color of his chest. It’s made even more majestic by the thin sheen of sweat that makes his tan glisten.
It’s her turn to bury her face between his pecs. Just like him, she bites him there. Though, she’s unsure if it has any effect on him. He doesn’t react and simply continues humping her, grunting and groaning from pleasure.
Soon, he’s half naked too. Katsuki has managed to unbutton his shirt all the way and yank the offending garment off him.
Her hands touch him everywhere, feeling his quickening heartbeat and the shortness of his breath beneath her palm.
She pulls him close and nips at his jaw. This extracts a whine from him until he curses lowly.
“You can’t just do that,” he says.
Katsuki responds with an arrogant smirk. “Why? Cumming soon?”
“No,” he says. “But you will.” Roguery makes its way back on his face.
He backs down and kisses Katsuki’s stomach aplenty. Slow, torturous, and excruciating. Down, down, down, until he stops and pulls Katsuki’s shorts down, exposing her gushing pussy.
“Fuck.” He spreads her legs and runs his finger across the wet slit, an action that leaves Katsuki’s mouth hanging open.
He dives in again, kissing the insides of her thighs, the corner of her crotch, licking down her thighs again and down to her ankle, and then up again.
Katsuki chases him, but he’s an ass. He explicitly avoids landing on the sweet spot in the middle that needs all his love.
Tired of it, Katsuki grabs Kirishima’s hair and positions his head where it should be –right by her pussy.
“Fucking dammit,” she says. “Stop fucking teasing me!”
Kirishima giggles. “Geez. So aggressive.”
“Quit playing around!” She shoves his face on her cunt and bucks her hips. “Fucking eat me already!”
“Hmmm.” Kirishima looks up at her. “Itadakimasu.” He grins.
Some smart retort dies at the tip of Katsuki’s tongue once Kirishima uses his mouth to good use. He starts by licking a stripe up her slit, with the obscene sound of him slurping all of her slick. Katsuki’s eyes roll to the back of her skull, feeling his tongue dart in and out of her hole in gentle motions. It goes on for a while and it leaves her wanting more, until Kirishima focuses on her clit and circles it with his tongue slowly before sucking hard on it.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” is all Katsuki could say, grabbing a fistful of Kirishima’s red hair and almost yanking it off his scalp.
Pleasure and pressure builds in the pits of her abdomen. Her toes point and dig at her mattress.
With a flat palm, Kirishima presses on her stomach to keep her down. “Hey, relax. Why so tense?” He has a shit eating grin.
Katsuki is too fucked out to say anything.
His tongue fucks Katsuki there and then. He curls it up and presses at the walls of her cunt that it could reach. Fuck, it feels too good, but Katsuki wants more.
She pushes his face against her pussy harder. “More,” she says. “Please, please.”
Her cunt vibrates when he hums.
Obeying her, his mouth parks itself on her clit again as he takes two fingers to stretch her out. The first contact makes her scream, but as soon as he presses on the spongy spot inside her, she’s too stunned to curse. Only moans and mewls leave her lips as Kirishima pushes in and out of her while his mouth works on her clit.
It doesn’t take long before all her bones turn liquid and she couldn’t move anymore. Her arms flop to her sides, too weak to grab anything. A cramp forms in her belly, and a warmth threatens to spill from her pussy.
“Kir- Kirishima.”
She’s hot and breathless.
“Yes baby,” he says, his mouth still glued to her cunt. His tongue continues to lap at the lips between her thighs while his fingers move with more purpose –faster and harder.
“Please,” she says, breathless.
“Mhm.”
He continues doing what he’s doing, but with more force and speed.
All of her muscles tighten before her vision turns white. A serene calmness washes over her entire being, and all the stress that coils around her flesh slowly dissipate until her body fluid and floating. Her brain is mush.
“Oh fuck, baby.”
Kirishima’s face is drenched. “Yes, fuck, squirt for me, baby.” He doesn’t stop, fingers still working inside her.
Katsuki is shaking and panting by the time she finishes, feeling all of her strength drain out of her body.
She’s never squirted before, and yet here she is, showering Kirishima with all of her.
“Did that feel good?” Kirishima asks, face wet.
At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s cross eyed and looking a bit tousled. A nod is all she answers with, suddenly dead-handed.
Kirishima snorts, but sits beside her limp body. He kisses her temple and swipes her hair away from her face. Then, he cups her cheeks and tilts her head to look at him. “I’ll go out for a bit, okay?”
“Fuck?” is all she’s able to say.
Again, this arouses Kirishima’s laughter. “I’ll be back, love. I’ll get you some snacks and ice cream.”
She nods before passing out.
***
For the most part, Katsuki doesn’t regret what happened. She’s been wanting to lose her virginity for a while now, and she’s had a thing for Kirishima for months.
It just fucking sucks that he left her without fully satisfying her. No, scratch that. He sucks for leaving her, period.
In hindsight, maybe that’s better. She hasn’t given him all of her. If it had been the case and he’d left her after that, she’d hunt the fucker down and pull out his tongue and strangle him with it.
Grabbing her phone, she decides that she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need a man or the dick attached to him to be satisfied.
She goes to her favorite ecommerce app and starts shopping for dildos when her doorbell rings.
Grunting, she pads across her house to open the door.
“What?” is her instant greeting.
Kirishima, with a sheepish grin, is standing on the other side of the door. He holds a large box.
“I didn’t order shit,” she says.
“Hey, I said I’d come back,” he answers. “Got a package for you.”
“You left me for three fucking hours.”
“I needed to get things out of the way,” he says. “Besides, I told you I’d get you snacks.”
“No, thank you!” She moves to close the door.
With his foot, Kirishima stops her.
“You’ve got a package.”
“I told you I didn’t order shit.”
“Maybe open the box and check it out. You might like it.”
She rolls her eyes but opens it while he’s still holding it.
There’s nothing inside.
Except a hole.
With Kirishima’s dick lodged in it and standing proud.
“Oh, fuck you!” she exclaims once she sees what’s inside.
“You don’t like it?”
“Fuck you.”
“Actually, I was hoping I could fuck you,” Kirishima says.
“Shut up and get inside.”
Kirishima beams at her.