“Hurry up and fuck me.”
Camie’s heel digs into his chest in response, causing him to wince at the sharp pain, the pressure compressing his lungs.
“You don’t get to make demands, baby. That’s my job.”
Katsuki can’t really remember when exactly this arrangement began— maybe sometime after a mission, going for celebratory drinks with the entire team. The night is just a messy collage of touch and vague memories— the alcohol swimming thick in his veins like honey, her hands wandering up his thigh higher and higher throughout the course of the night, the way she whispered absolute fucking filth in his ear as shamelessly as she does anything else in her life. He remembers being overwhelmed by it, pent up from the mission, until finally she says, “You seem like the type that needs to learn to chill out. I can probs help you with that.”
And then she winks at him— drunkenly fucking winks and he’s still not sure what the fuck possessed him to agree after that, but he’s positive it may be the way her tits were pressed up against him, the way she leads him out of the bar, the way she actually holds her promise of chilling him out that night.
She pushes her heel in more, a hiss of pain escapes him, disrupting whatever bullshit navel gazing he got himself into.
“But you know what? Maybe I can give you a little taste of what I want.”
Camie’s hand slides down her lacy underwear slowly, and if his dick wasn’t already at attention it sure as fuck is now as he watches her finger herself through her underwear. She takes her hand out after a moment, then bends down slightly, her slicked finger in his face.
Katsuki snarls a ‘fuck you’ before complying.
She sticks her finger in, sighing. “Well suck on it, dummy.”
He growls but obeys without much protest— mouth closing around her digit, the salty taste of her slick on his tongue and fuck— his greed overtakes him, forgetting his place, grabbing her wrist—
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” Camie asks, rolling her eyes before pushing her finger in further down this throat, triggering his gag reflex. He coughs, sputters, and she pulls her hand away with a cackle.
One thing he didn’t expect from Camie is that she’s a good teacher— she’s ditzy and forgetful and Katsuki has no clue what the hell comes out of her mouth half the time, but she has taught him an important lesson: sometimes he needs to shut his brain off and allow someone else to take the reins. And though he always throws a fucking kicking, screaming fit when it happens, though he always leaves these nights flustered and embarrassed— he leaves weightless, a little lighter. Like a burden that has been shaken off, like a weight has been lifted.
Cheaper than fucking therapy, at any rate.
Katsuki’s pretty sure you can’t get off during therapy, too.
“You’re so bratty today, babe,” She presses her foot down on him again, pushing him down on the mattress before she slides her underwear off, flinging them to some unknown corner of the room. She plops down, knocking the wind out of Katsuki as her thighs straddle his head, her ass sitting right on his chest.
“I’m gonna ride your face like I’m gunning for first in derby. Should keep your mouth occupied for a while, too.”
Katsuki hates how much that kind of degradation makes his dick twitch.
Camie kneels over his face, her cunt inches from his face, his hands gripping her ass as he tries to push her down, hating how this too, this desperation of wanting to taste her, makes his dick twitch.
“Geez, you’re so impatient,” Camie murmurs, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back, eliciting a hiss from Katsuki. “If you want it that badly, then I guess I’ll give it to you.”
She smothers him completely— grinding her cunt into his face, barely giving him ample room to breathe, let alone think. The saltiness of her slick and the heady scent of her are overwhelming, flooding his senses to the point where he can’t think of anything except where to move his tongue.
His tongue traces from her hole to her clit, and he can feel the shaking of her thighs under his hands as she lets out a shaky, breathy moan. He grips her thighs harder, the desire to rip that noise from her again his goal, his tongue swirling around her clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking vigorously, eliciting more of those little noises she makes that drive him fucking crazy.
“You’re such a good boy,” She gasps, her fingernails digging into his scalp, yanking the strands and Katsuki can barely register the pain compared to the burning in his lungs from a lack of air, the strain of his dick from being neglected. Camie grinds herself into his mouth, her slick coating his chin, his nose, his face— Katsuki can tell she’s already close by the erratic way she ruts against him, her breath coming out more staggered, her thighs twitching.
A vignette his playing on the edge’s of Katsuki’s vision, his lungs are screaming for air but he sticks it through— she comes with a cry, shudders racking her body like a tidal wave. As she lifts herself off of Katsuki, as he gasps his first full breath, she grabs his cock and—
It’s fucking embarrassing, humiliating the way his body betrays him by seizing up and coming as soon as her hand makes contact around him, spilling over and the sounds of her breathless cackling rubbing salt into an already very raw wound.
“Oh my god— I barely. I barely had my hand around you? That’s so pathetic—“
Katsuki barely has his breathing back under control, and chooses to send a glare that says ‘fuck you’ rather than verbally tell her so.
Camie uses the hand he came on to rub the slick she left on his face, some of his cum mixing in, smearing it more across his cheeks and his lips before grabbing his chin. “You look good like this— all red and embarrassed and shit. You were a good boy today.”
Finally, he manages— “Fuck you.”