Why can't they be real?!?!?
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from Netherlands
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from France
seen from Japan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Romania
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from South Korea
Why can't they be real?!?!?
afab!hange hears you fawning over somebody’s biceps (18+ MDNI)
jealousy / strap gets referred to as cock / headlock / marathon
"Don't you think Eld's biceps seem a little bigger than normal?"
Someone may as well have dropped a flying titan in front of Hange considering how shocked they had looked after hearing your words.
You, on the other hand, were oblivious to your companion's reaction.
Your chin rested on the heel of your palm, looking out of the window of Hange's office whilst they were writing out a report on their recent search in the forest.
There was a lot of scouts littered on the castle grounds. Some were bringing in wood for stock, the others were training, but the Levi squad were the only ones sitting idly on the side.
You've been watching Eld unintentionally. The way his bicep bulged against the long-sleeved shirt was way too noticeable for you to ignore.
"Excuse me?" You hear a loud pen drop on wood
You scoot to the side, Hange's side profile suddenly appearing in your peripheral. "Look at him." You gesture plainly, certain they won't need much direction. "I don't think Levi's cleaning regiment gets you that much muscle."
"Stop looking at his biceps," Hange complaints, the horrified look on their face making you laugh.
"What? I'm serious. Look. It's fucking bulging." You stretch your arm out the window, nuzzling to Hange's side to get a better view. "Even Miche's arm isn't that big."
You can tell Hange didn't like that even more because their frown all but deepens.
"Why are you looking at their biceps?"
"I'm not looking at their biceps, I'm admiring them."
"That's not any better—Can you stop looking at Eld Jinn's biceps? Please?" Hange nearly dives out the window trying to shield you away from the sight of his biceps. Their forehead forming a deep crease when you roll your eyes with a sigh.
"Hange, sweetheart, you're overreacting," you say softly, placing both your hands on either side of their cheek. "I love your arms too, okay? I'm just curious how he manages to make it so big." You were about to press a kiss on the center of the forehead, right where the wrinkle is, but they move away. Taking you with them as they let you sit on their desk.
They cross their arms over their chest, "If you wanted to know how to build muscle, you should've just asked me. There's a lot of considerations to be thought of when planning your own fitness regiment. You have to consume the right amount of nutrients, the right exercises for—"
"Hange, I was just admiring them, okay?"
"Well, do you like them?"
"God, no!" It's your turn to look horrified. "I don't like Eld Jinn, Hange."
"But you like their body?"
"Okay, now that sounds bad."
Hange shrugs, looking away, "I don't understand your fascination with his arms."
They looked adorable to you. Their irritated huff, that slight jut of their lips that make it look like they're pouting. Hange had the tendency to look away when they're usually annoyed or upset, you guess they're both right now.
"I'm sorry," you begin, "I promise I'm not fantasizing about him, Hans." You brush the stray lock of brunette hair that falls forward, gently tapping their face so they'd look at you. "I promise, I promise," you repeat your words again and again, peppering a kiss on their face for each one.
"Really?" They ask quietly, finally turning their head.
"Of course. If I liked him—which I don't—I won't even make a move on him because as I said, I don't like him. I like you, section commander Hange," you explain yourself. Your hands now resting on top of their shoulders.
They were still sulky even as they look at you now, their hands still stuck to their hips given how irritated they were at you and Eld's arms. Mostly Eld's arms. Hange can't be irritated at you for long anyway.
"You're buttering me up," they grumble. "I'm not falling for it."
"For what?" you laugh. "I'm just being honest! You're fascinated about titans, I'm fascinated about how he managed to build up muscle like that when we barely have any excess food. Let alone protein!"
You reasoned out as best as you could, but even as you scrubbed your mind clean of reasons, Hange manages to give an argument on each one.
You love that about them, but god you just wanted to kiss them to shut them up.
Thankfully Hange finally lets it go after Erwin had called them for something.
They don't bring it up throughout that day as well, and you honestly think they've fully forgotten about it considering how even in the succeeding months the topic of Eld Jinn's arms never came up anymore.
That was until you noticed a peculiar, and honestly frustrating, observation: you and Hange have not fucked properly since then.
At the same time, Hange's own arms had grown exponentially.
Of course you wouldn't notice that right away. Hange's always out and about, when they're inside they're usually resting or simply writing, or standing beside you with their arms kept neatly behind their back.
You noticed it when they personally directed your attention to the medium-sized mirror inside Hange's office. Conveniently placed in a spot that lets you get a perfect look at how their arms flexed as they lifted you up so effortlessly.
"Hange," you breathed out. Your pussy clenches on nothing as your gaze falls to the deep purple strap resting on your slit.
"I know," they chuckle, leaning their head forward to steal a kiss on your cheek.
Before you could even react, you feel the blunt head of their strap sink into you. Hissing through your teeth, you let your head fall forward, forehead touching their, watching as the strap grow more and more slicker as it starts thrusting in and out of you.
The feeling of being so full after so long of just settling on oral or scissoring has got you needing to adjust to their size again.
You tighten your hold around their neck, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips as they began to move their hips. "O-Oh, fuck," you hiss, clutching the hair at their nape.
Their pace doesn't remain slow for long. In no time they're pounding into you with such vigor that the sounds of their strap fucking in and out of your cunt fill their office. Each thrust was harder than the last, the rubber tip of the cock hitting your spots with unusual precision.
Hange breathes against your face, enjoying every trembling moan and desperate plead escaping your mouth.
"See that, baby?" They turn their head, locking their eyes with yours through the mirror. Letting out a breathy chuckle when you bite your lip.
"Tell me, could Eld Jinn fuck you like this?"
You don't give an answer. You can't. You're too pre-occupied with the thick purple cock ramming inside of you.
Hange gave you no mercy as they fuck you months worth of their frustration, months worth of specifically bulking up just so they can build up the muscle you so innocently admired on Eld Jinn.
With you in their arms, feet dangling, body so pliant like putty, they'd do it all over again.
The base of the strap hit their clit every time they brought your body down on their cock. Hissing roughly as their own orgasm built up inside them.
Every thrust made their muscles flex harder, the tendons and veins from their shoulders to their arms stood out in ways that you couldn't have had imagined. You've never even thought this—fuck, you wouldn't have lasted so long without their strap if you did.
They had every control of your body. How they raise you, pulling you off of their strap until only the tip was left, to how they drop you on it so roughly, meeting your sopping pussy and filling it to the very brim.
Every moan that left your lip only made them more desperate. Desperate to feel you come undone on their cock, to have you shaking and trembling in their very mercy.
"Come on, don't you take your eyes off the mirror," they order, shifting the angle of their hips until they feel you jerk up in their arms. Knowing well enough they'd hit the spot.
"That's it, good girl. See how you're taking it so well?"they coo in your ear, letting their teeth nip at the flesh.
"Mmmm—there, right there," you shriek, feeling your body approach its peak, "Fuck! Hange, don't—don't stop—oh my god!" your jaw drops, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your chest lurches forward, head falling to their shoulder as you clutch them for dear life. Your own hips moving erratically as your clit catches on the base of the strap every other thrust. Hange's gruff laugh echoing in your ears.
"God, you should see yourself right now," they say. You could picture the absolute glee in their face as they say that. "Fucking yourself on my cock like a bitch in heat. Let me guess, too long of not fucking got you this horny?"
"Yes!" You scream, every inhibition thrown out the window.
Hange resorts to rolling their hips against yours, keeping the same roughness only with more precision than before. Making sure your clit catches on the nudges at the base of the strap, stimulating you on every end possible.
Your climax crashes over you in strong waves. Your screams bouncing against the walls, careless whether or not the others could hear you.
They watch in satisfaction as a white rim formed on their strap, glancing up at you to see the fucked-out look on your eyes, beads of sweat running down the sides of your face. They smirk, tongue darting out to shamelessly lick the trail sweat off of you as you twitch in their arms.
"Oh, baby, we're not done," you hear them say.
You could feel their strap slap against your pussy with each step they take. Soon you feel the fabric of their mattress against your back, their hands guiding you to rest on your stomach.
Their warmth disappears momentarily. You hear a few rummaging here and there but the energy to open your eyes doesn't come until you feel them return. Your sight opening up to the view of the same mirror now placed on the chair.
Your eyebrows furrow, Hange's name about to leave your throat when you feel the bed dip. Hange themselves lying on top of you. Their entire body weight pushing your body down into the mattress.
"Keep your eyes on it, okay?" They say with a grin, one arm reaching between the two of you as they grab the length, running the rubbery head up and down your slit before pushing in.
You yelp helplessly. The warmth of their naked body against yours, you could barely move a muscle as they pinned you down, and you could see every moment of it through that damn mirror.
Hange groans as they shake their head, directing their attention forward as they finally move their hips. The smooth slide of their cock against your walls was heaven to you.
Even at your spot, where they caged you underneath them, fucking you deeper and deeper into the mattress, you still manage to clench around the strap like a greedy whore. Wanting nothing more than to keep them inside of you as they begin snapping their hips aggressively, grunts leaving their bitten lips.
"That's a good girl... that's it, baby," you feel their chest against your back, their honey voice seeping into your ears.
Hange watches your eyes close through the mirror, your mouth falling open, saliva dripping from the sides. They huff, snaking one arm under your head until your cheek rested against their bicep. Then, they flexed.
Your eyes bulge out, staring wide-eyes at the mirror as you watch them lock your head in their arm. The muscles of their biceps tenses, caging you in tighter, the restrictive grip making you clench all the more.
You feel their head against yours, voice dripping with honey as they coo at you. "Oh I know baby... you wanted this, didn't you?"
Their pace didn't slow down or stop, they kept going even as you clawed at their bicep. Your pussy gushes around their strap, leaking so pathetically.
"H-Hange, I... I'm—more," you croak out, gripping their bicep as hard as you could. Nails threatening to pierce through the layer of skin.
"More?" They scoff, "Fuck—okay—take it then."
Their thrusts quickened, slapping against the skin of your ass loudly, abusing your spots with every time they pound into you with abandon. They tighten their headlock on you, keeping a close eye on you through the mirror.
You sob, the pleasure consuming your every sense. Hange's name was the only thing you could say, the only thing you had the energy to scream.
The image of you so helpless and fucked under them tipped them over as well. Both of you screaming each other's name as you come together.
As their pace slowed, Hange kept their head beside yours, cooing sweet nothings into your ears as they finally take their arm off of your head. Their own hips trembled weakly. Chest heaving and full of sweat.
You feel them pull out, body dropping beside you with a loud sigh. "Five minutes. They'll scold us tomorrow morning so we better make the most of it."
"You asshole."
"Mhm?"
You finally manage to open your eyes, still catching your breath. You turn your head to look at them. Their confused look making you exhale. "Eld Jinn's room is right beside your office."
Then, a grin creeps onto their face.
What an asshole indeed.
bonus
You crying while eating out Hanji
CW: wlw, Hanji uses they/them pronouns and is afab in this fic, oral (Hanji receiving), dacryphilia, praise, top! Hanji, bottom! Reader, first time ish, overstimulating, pussy drunk reader, squirting
You and Hanji had been together for a little while now, and they two of you just started getting more intimate. They were always super careful with you, making sure you were always comfortable and constantly asking for permission. It was sweet, and they always made sure to attend to your needs, often ignoring their own.
It upset you, you wanted to make them feel good too.
So this time around you were gonna make them feel how they made you feel.
You were knelt in front of them while they were sitting on the bed, their legs spread to make room for you in between them. You hand your hands gripping onto the belt of their pants.
“Please, ‘ji, I wanna make you feel good too,” you pleaded, eyes wide with want.
Their face turns a bright red at the sight of you. You looked so pretty begging to eat them out, wanting to make them feel good.
Hanji smirked, trying to keep their cool. “You wanna make me feel good, pretty?”
You nodded eagerly, unbuckling their belt as quickly as you could, fumbling over your hands due to your excitement.
Hanji chuckles. “Greedy girl,” they helped you out and removed their pants and underwear along with them.
They leaned back on their elbows, spreading their legs further apart, giving you the glorious view of their dripping cunt. You whimpered to yourself at the sight, grinding your cunt on the heel of your foot to find some relief for yourself.
“Go ahead then, baby, make me feel good,” they encouraged, guiding your head to meet their pussy.
Your tongue immediately shot out licking them from their entrance to their clit.
They groan out at the feeling of your tongue on them, throwing their head backwards. You moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head once your tastebuds landing on their taste.
They tasted soooo good.
You immediately speed up your movements, trying to drink up as much of their sweet arousal as you could. Holding their thighs apart with your hands.
Obscene slurps and other nasty wet noises filled the room. You were so messy with it, but you couldn’t help it you just wanted more, more, more.
Hanji held onto the back of your head as they ground their hips on your mouth, moaning so pretty for you. “Yeah sweet girl, just like that, making me feel so good,”
Making them feel too good. Their orgasm quickly starting to approach them. They made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a whimper, but you were too distracted to tease them for it.
Instead, you latched onto their clit and sucked. Their hips bucking up to meet your mouth as they moaned out louder.
“Oh fuuuuck,” they groaned. “Fuck, fuck, I’m—“
They didn’t even have time to finish their sentence before they’re squirting all over your face, you mouth open trying to catch whatever you could, wanting to taste more of them.
Hanji expected you to stop, but no, you just kept going. They gasped out at the overstimulation on their cunt. They straightened back up and looked down at you, continuing to eat your meal.
“Baby, I finished already—hmmm!” They then pulled you by your hair to pull your head away from them.
Your chin was dripping with their juices, your pupils were so wide. Clearly already pussy drunk just from a couple of minutes of eating your partner’s cunt. Hanji felt a tingle in their lower belly seeing you in such a state.
“Mmmm, noooo, Hanji, please,” you beg trying to move yourself back to them, but they were still holding you back from your hair. “You taste so good, please, I want more, please,”
Hanji let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah? You wanna stay on my cunt, baby?”
You nod quickly. Tears pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill. Moving your hand onto their clit and rubbing in slow agonizing circles.
“Wanna make you feel good, wan’ you to cum on m’face again,” you tell them, a sob breaking from your lips.
Their eyes widen, you were crying being taken away from their pussy. The tears quickly spilled from your pretty blown out eyes.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you sobbed, you couldn’t stand being away from them when their cunt was right there. Waiting for you to come eat them up.
How could they deny you when you begged so pretty like that?
Hanji smiled and patted your head, making you lean into their touch.
“Go ahead then baby, help yourself,” the second they gave the go ahead, you dove back in.
Latching back onto their clit and sucking hard. Tears continuing to fall from your eyes as you looked up at them with a thankful expression.
Hanji’s thighs tightened around your head as they moaned out to an almost scream.
You weren’t gonna be letting up anytime soon, this was going to be a long night.
𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓
sex addict hanji x reader!
🧪✨ “what’s my diagnosis, doctor?” ✨🧪
she asked, kneeling between your legs—tongue deep, fingers deeper.
your skirt bunched at your hips, your control long gone.
and when you came on her mouth, sobbing her name,
hanji just smiled and whispered,
“addicted. and so am i.”
cw: sex addiction themes, therapist/patient dynamic, explicit oral (f receiving), power imbalance, manipulation, obsession, fingering, unprofessional behavior, dom!hanji, mild degradation, consent-checked but ethically messy.
—
Therapy Office – 4:08 PM
Hanji Zoe’s Legs Are Crossed. Again.
“You’re not writing anything down today,” Hanji says, voice casual.
You glance up from your notepad — blank, indeed. A fact you hadn’t even noticed until she said it.
She notices everything.
Her glasses are fogged slightly from the rain outside. Her brown hair’s tied up messily, yet somehow perfectly. She’s lounged on the couch like it’s her own bed — legs long, skirt riding a little too high, one foot dangling. And her eyes?
Locked on you.
“I’m listening,” you say, keeping your voice measured. Calm. Not reactive.
“You’re distracted,” she replies, tilting her head. “That’s unprofessional, doctor.”
You ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Tell me about the last time you relapsed.”
She smiles.
There’s something wolfish about it — soft and dangerous. Like she enjoys making you uncomfortable. Like it’s part of the treatment.
“I touched myself… yesterday when I got back home.” she says easily, like she’s describing what she had for lunch. “After a meeting. I couldn’t stop thinking about someone.”
You keep your face neutral. “Who?”
“I won’t say.”
You wait.
She leans in, eyes narrowing.
“But if you’re trying to make me feel ashamed, it won’t work. I’ve been this way longer than you’ve been licensed.”
“Shame isn’t the goal,” you reply quietly.
“No? What is the goal?” she purrs. “To ‘fix’ me? Cure me of craving? Or is the goal to keep me just sick enough that I come back? Keep talking. Keep undressing in front of you… emotionally, of course.”
You hold her gaze. Your stomach knots.
Hanji smiles again — slow. Knowing.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me want to behave.”
Your fingers tighten around the pen.
But you say nothing.
She watches you — carefully, slowly — and then sits back again, satisfied.
“See?” she whispers. “I say things like that, and you still don’t throw me out.”
You exhale slowly.
Session five. And she’s already rearranged the power dynamic like it’s chess and you never learned the rules.
The Next Day
Therapy Office – 4:04 PM
She’s Early This Time.
She walked in like she owned the place.
No knock. No hesitation. Just that usual Hanji confidence — messy hair, oversized coat barely hanging off her shoulder, combat boots untied. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose, and she didn’t fix them.
She didn’t need to.
“Afternoon, doc,” she greeted, like you were old friends instead of her therapist.
You didn’t answer right away. Just watched her. She didn’t sit on the couch this time — she dropped into your armchair, your chair, like it was some kind of test.
You closed the door slowly. Sat across from her.
“You’re in my seat,” you said.
She smirked. “Is that a boundary?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t move. “You planning to enforce it?”
Your silence said enough.
Hanji’s smile deepened. “Didn’t think so.”
You opened your notepad — already prepared this time. Already braced for whatever chaos she’d bring into the room like perfume on her coat.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Riled up.”
“Be more specific.”
She leaned back. Legs wide. Arms draped over the chair like she was holding court.
“I had a dream about you last night.”
You didn’t look up. “Dreams aren’t always rooted in meaning.”
“This one was.” Her voice dipped. “You had me pinned to the desk. Your mouth was—well. Never mind. You said you weren’t into shame.”
Your pen paused for half a second.
Just enough for her to notice.
“You like when I say things like that,” she whispered. “Don’t you?”
“No,” you lied.
She sat up. Slowly. Bracing her elbows on her knees.
“You shouldn’t be my therapist,” she said, voice low. “You’re too soft with me.”
“I haven’t been soft.”
“You let me flirt with you.”
“That’s not—”
“You let me stay.”
You swallowed hard. “Do you want me to refer you to someone else?”
Hanji’s eyes narrowed.
“No,” she said. “I want you to admit you’ve thought about it too.”
You looked up. The air between you was thick, quiet. A stand-off.
She reached up, slowly, and pulled the elastic from her hair. Curls fell wild over her face.
“I want to get better,” she said softly. “I do.”
You studied her face — flushed, guarded, but honest.
“But I can’t stop unless you tell me to,” she added. “And mean it.”
You didn’t say anything.
You couldn’t.
Because you didn’t mean it.
10:47 PM – Your Apartment
Your Phone Buzzes. You Already Know It’s Her.
You shouldn’t have answered.
You told yourself that earlier tonight — standing in the shower, scrubbing away the heat in your chest that hadn’t gone away since Session Six. You even left your work phone on the counter. But when it buzzed — again — something inside you said:
It’s her.
And you were right.
Hanji’s voice came through the speaker with that same ragged breathlessness you’ve started dreaming about.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I know I’m not supposed to call you outside of hours.”
You swallowed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Is this an emergency?”
She paused.
Then said, so quietly:
“Yes.”
You said nothing.
Just listened.
“I didn’t want to bother anyone else,” she continued, voice fraying at the edge. “You’re the only one who knows what it feels like. This… ache. Like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.”
You shifted, thighs pressing together subconsciously.
“It’s worse at night,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”
“Hanji—”
“I tried everything. Breathing. Pacing. Cold shower. I even—”
A pause. A sharp inhale.
“I touched myself. It didn’t help. I kept seeing you.”
Your breath hitched.
“Your mouth,” she said softly. “The way you talk to me. The way your eyes flick away when I say something dirty. Like you’re pretending you don’t want to throw your chair across the room and pin me against the floor.”
You clenched your eyes shut. “This isn’t appropriate.”
“I know.”
“I’m your therapist.”
“I know.”
And yet she kept going.
“I want you to say it,” she breathed. “Just once. Say you think about it too.”
You hung up.
You didn’t mean to — but your thumb hit the red button before your mouth could betray you.
Silence.
You stared at the phone like it might ring again. It didn’t.
But your body was already on fire.
Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts before you could stop it, shame and arousal coiling together so tight it made your breath catch.
You thought about her voice.
The crack in it.
Her glasses fogged from breath. Her mouth saying your name.
I touched myself. I kept seeing you.
You moaned — soft, desperate — fingers circling your clit as your mind betrayed you completely. You imagined her hands instead of yours. Her mouth instead of the pillow muffling your gasps.
Your back arched as you came — quiet, fast, sinful — her name caught between your teeth.
And when the high faded, you just lay there…
Hand still between your legs.
Phone screen still lit.
Heart still racing.
You didn’t call her back.
But you didn’t delete her number either.
Therapy Office – 3:58 PM
You Regret Answering That Call. You Regret Hanging Up More.
She’s early. Again.
You hear the elevator ding just before four, and you already know it’s her.
There’s a beat of hesitation in your step before opening the door, smoothing your expression into something passable. Professional. Calm.
Hanji’s sitting there when you enter. Legs crossed. Notebook on her lap. Her glasses are pushed up, lips parted slightly like she’d been mid-thought.
Like she was waiting.
“You look tired,” she says.
You close the door quietly. “Rough night.”
“Me too.”
Her voice is innocent, but the glint in her eye says otherwise.
Your body tenses as you take your seat — your seat — not hers. Not this time.
You open your notepad. “Let’s begin.”
She tilts her head. “You sure you don’t want to talk about the call?”
You keep your face still. “That call was inappropriate.”
“I noticed you didn’t say unnecessary.”
You don’t respond.
Hanji smiles — slow, almost lazy. She’s not pushing it yet. Not really. But her eyes keep drifting to your mouth. Every time you speak. Every time you press your lips together. Every time you breathe too deep.
She’s studying you.
Like a craving she’s trying not to taste.
And it’s driving you insane.
“Have you considered we’re making progress?” she asks suddenly, like she hasn’t been eye-fucking you for the past five minutes. “I haven’t had sex in over a week.”
“You called me at nearly eleven to tell me you couldn’t stop touching yourself.”
“I didn’t say I succeeded at progress. Just that I’m thinking about it more.”
“And what are you thinking now?”
She leans forward.
Eyes locked to your lips.
“That if you tell me to behave one more time with that mouth—”
You cut her off, voice tight: “You’re deflecting.”
She blinks, lips twitching. “So are you.”
There’s a silence between you. Tense. Breathing.
Her fingers twitch against the arm of the chair. Her knees part slightly. You pretend not to notice. She knows you noticed.
“I liked hearing you breathe last night,” she says. “Right before you hung up. You were shaking.”
You grip the pen harder.
This session’s going nowhere.
Except it’s going exactly where she wants.
“You’re staring again,” you say softly, breath shaky.
Hanji’s smile is slow. Wide. Dangerous.
She’s already across the room before you can stand — before you can do anything.
And then?
She’s in your lap.
One knee braced between your legs, hands on your shoulders, eyes sharp as scalpels. Her breath ghosts over your lips as she murmurs:
“If you want me to stop, tell me now.”
You don’t.
You can’t.
Because the ache between your legs has been building for weeks. Because every word she’s said has rewired your body into hers. Because you stopped being her therapist the moment you imagined her mouth on you.
So you whisper:
“Close the blinds.”
She doesn’t.
Instead, she kisses you — hard — tongue sliding in like she owns your mouth, hips rolling into yours, making you feel how soaked she already is. You gasp, and Hanji smirks into the kiss.
“God, you’re soft,” she breathes, pulling your blouse open. “You dress like a professional, but under here… you’re so fucking easy.”
Her hands slip under your bra — teasing, circling — and your hips jerk forward involuntarily.
She hums. “Already losing control, doctor?”
You try to answer. You do. But then her mouth is on your neck — teeth dragging, tongue licking up the racing pulse in your throat. Her hands push your skirt up, sliding your underwear down without care.
“Let me taste how stressed I make you,” she growls.
You shudder.
And then she drops to her knees between your legs.
Ripping your thighs apart. Gripping them so tight you whimper. Her breath is hot against your soaked center — and then her mouth descends.
“Holy—Hanji—”
She moans into you, like your pussy is her favorite drug — licking slow and messy, tongue pressing into your clit just right, until you’re trembling in your chair, gasping her name like a prayer.
“You taste like sin,” she mumbles between licks. “Like guilt and God and everything I shouldn’t have.”
Her fingers slide inside you — deep, curved perfectly — and you scream, hips jerking up into her mouth.
Your hand flies to her hair, yanking, grounding — and she loves it.
“That’s it,” she whispers. “Come on my tongue, baby.”
You do.
You break.
Shaking, crying out, thighs clamped around her head as you come harder than you ever have — because it’s wrong. Because it’s her. Because she made you.
When it’s over, she stays there.
Breathing you in.
Then she looks up — mouth slick, lips swollen — and says, so sweetly:
“What’s my diagnosis, doctor?”
You pull her up by the collar of her shirt, dragging her into a messy, fucked-out kiss.
“Addicted,” you whisper. “And so am I.”
—
SOMEBODYY SAYYY AAAYYYEEE WE WANT SOME PUSSAYYYY. I wanna write my female anime character x readers but I don't know who.
in the a.m. | hange zoë
➳ categories: college au, female reader ➳ warnings: nsfw (top hange, afab reader, cunnilingus) ➳ word count: 1.8k
➳ summary: Hange wakes up next to a pretty girl in bed.
➳ notes: made in the A.M. was my favorite one direction album so why not use it as a fic title lolol ➳ cross-posted on ao3
Hange awakens to a dark room when a cool breeze glides over their skin. As they stare into nothingness, they reach over to their bedside table, feeling for their cellphone to check the time.
Their mobile lights up. Through blurry eyes, Hange tries to make out the words that flash on the screen.
'4:34 AM'.
They put the device back down. They pull themselves to a seated position on their bed, then reach out to the bedside table once more to turn on a lamp.
Their corner of the room illuminates a faint orange glow. Hange leans on the headboard, still half-awake, before noticing the presence that had been beside them all along.
A Levihan sketch I’m VERY proud of
See I like them happy too guys
Whipped boyfriends
