Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3281420.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Krista_Lenz_|_Historia_Reiss/Ymir
  Character:
      Krista_Lenz_|_Historia_Reiss, Ymir_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin), Sasha_Blouse
  Additional Tags:
      Bad_Puns, Fishing_Humor, Futanari, Toys, Sandwiches, Anal_Sex, Herring
      Roleplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-03 Words: 3887
****** Fishing For Trouble ******
by Atma
Summary
     Ymir sneaks off during a fishing expedition to enjoy herself when a
     certain blonde catches her being lewd and makes her pay for teasing
     poor Sasha.
Notes
     A request for an anon (they wanted futa on futa anal and I could pick
     the theme) I started a while ago and only now had time to finish -
     thank you infinitely for your patience! I hope you enjoy how silly
     this is.
Fishing is known to be an extremely popular sport in the summer, even in the
small rivers that somehow still flowed through the valleys and towns between
the walls that kept humanity enclosed. Mostly because almost anyone of any
social status or rank could agree to a nap with a shady cap over their eyes as
they lay back in the boat and let their six pack of cheap beer cool in the
flowing rapids beside them, excusing it as sport in the most broad of senses.
Hey, you can sometimes maybe lose calories by reeling in something big (if
you're lucky) and the sun makes you sweat, so clearly hard work was being had
and nobody could call you lazy for bringing back more than a pound of squirrel
to your wagon.
Well, they could. And they would be right. A simple salmon or trout could feed
one soldier, perhaps two if you were lucky, but if that was all you returned
home with then forget it. You lazyass.
Which is exactly why Ymir sought the biggest game in town. She completely
forgot the meaning of this food-gathering expedition, having found a chunk of
meat meant to be fried for lunches or dinners in the supply wagon, fashioned a
big and thick slice of it with her sword oh so carefully, and hooked it around
the bone to the hook of her fishing line. Nobody would miss a simple ham steak
when the whole encampment they were in reeked of a fish hatchery. Everyone else
was too busy making filets and farming any roe they were lucky enough to find
into dinners to notice any small stealing of rations. Around the meat she
placed a thick roll of bread, softened in her beer, and let it dangle off the
side of the port roof they were on, seeing if anyone or anything more turf
based would bite.
Ymir hated most seafood anyways, at least since the incident in the pub a few
years ago where she ate a bad batch of rollmops with her ale and all she could
taste for days afterward was the violent upchucking of it burning the back of
her throat.
The freckled wonder and herring had been sworn enemies ever since, let alone
all of seafood. How could she trust even the meatiest basket of fish and chips
after that traitor? It pained her to do so, but even just one bite brought back
painful, belchy memories and she'd have to excuse herself to the furthest
corner with the strongest beer to forget about it.
So landmeats it was, and she took a particular thrill in hunting the second
most dangerous creature on this planet: the wild Sasha. Her hunger and desire
to eat meant endless taunting from Ymir, having played this game with her
countless times, choosing to waste everyone's time on this instead of working
to benefit the whole, as she was wont to do with most things in the military.
She had already caught a rather nice prize this morning as the sun broke golden
over the fog on the river, which she now wore upon her skull as a crown, like a
king amongst dirt. It was Reiner's bucket hat, complete with all the fancy and
strong lures he and Bert had made up for this mission, snickering to herself as
it flopped over her eyes, a few sizes too large but serving its purpose at
shielding her perfect face freckles from harm and sunburn.
She knew that fishing was mostly a game of patience. Visions of boats full of
her squadmates afar on the wide river between the port and the forests on the
other side dotted her vision, seeing hardly a movement from any of the vessels
or vassals on them in hours, flopping back onto a cot she stole from the same
area she found her meatbait in, pulling up a cold, cheap beer and chugging it
as she dangled her fishing line lazily below her, targeting the area that was
just head height for most people, humming a few burlesque tunes to herself off
key as she pretended to work, the backup dancers and hornplayers and accordions
playing alongside her in her head.
The yield she was expecting wasn't much; moreso she guessed a few hungry blue-
collar workers would make their way by and jump for the meat, which she would
yank out of their sight as she laughed and danced half-drunk above. Still beat
sitting around in a river stewing in your own sweat, pickled in the mist that
raised off the water early in the morning, after a long day of boredom and not
sleeping, surrounded by fish bonier than your own dick. Ymir had heard rumors
many a year now of fishermen lonely enough to take an unsuspecting salmon and
treating it as they would their haggard port wives back home, but even she
wasn't so desperate as to have a filet o' fuck, complete with her own homemade
tartar sauce, no matter how long or hard or boring this work was. Her mind
wasn't that dull yet. Granted, being half asleep had also put her crotch at
half mast, but there was no reason to jerk off and expend her hunting energy
just yet, was there?
But fuck, it was tempting, after thinking about how bony fish were, how bonery
she was getting on her own, and the lack of any good catches, let alone any
strong shipmaids or local tavern wenches desperate to please her in any way for
a tip (be it coin or what was at the end of her own lucky fishing rod) or hell,
she'd settle for Sasha about now and....
...Well, shit. Ymir wasn't the religious type, far from it, but she had to
figure something heard her then since her line suddenly tugged hard and she
looked down, other hand holding her big cap to her head as she gauged her
catch, grinning wide and toothy as she saw Sasha's mouth clamped hard on the
sandwich bait she left out who knows how long ago. If only she had something
like a bit of mustard or cocktail sauce, but as she watched Sasha eagerly dance
and become increasingly determined from her line teasing to get that lunch, her
own cock bulged forth in her pants. Perhaps she'd get that sauce after all,
creamy and white, pickling her catch and storing it for later. Ymir was no
stranger to waking up with random boners by now, not since she drank Hanji's
potion a while ago, but it all seemed to fit in so well with this she could not
care less that you could probably spot her tackle box poking out of her pants
from the other horizon by now. Perhaps this is what all the old legends of
fishermen speaking of mermaids and fishfucking was based on was just an
elaborate retelling of some cute girl by the bay. Or maybe they actually did
fuck a fish. She didn't know nor did she care beyond getting hers, and she let
her fishing rod steady and strong in her right hand as she put her left hand
down her pants to control the other rod at hand, stroking herself slow and
strong as she delighted in the show before her.
Fuck, how cute was she, nomming slowly on that steak she carved out, able to
look down her top from here as she drooled and pinched at her own balls,
huffing in a happy daydream where she's the fisherman and Sasha was her perfect
and hungry, yet cute and oblivious little fishwife. Of course, in this world of
fantasy, Ymir often saw the other village girls from around the rivers and
oceans pinned up aganst the walls and trees and treated to both her tongue and
cock masterfully so, pushing into them and ensuring their future progeny, not
caring if anyone found their little village of women only weird in how they
kept propegating. And she was the best hunter, the best fisher, the best
swordsman, and had defeated ten thousand armies, and all the girls had huge
racks they wanted to offer her as thanks, and and and...
...with one very distorted looking face and bitten lower lip later...
...Shit. She came far too early. A decent showing of her own cum sprayed, a
thick and white salty spray, as if she hadn't been able to treat herself in
days, on her hands and down her pants as her face and freckles flushed, biting
her lower lip hard to silence and stifle any screams or groanings, eyes wide as
she mangled her balls in her hand and tried to drain herself, allowing her prey
to get away with the bait and leave her watery hunt unsatisfied.
No, seriously, Sasha had taken the sandwich at the end and plucked it off the
hook with an amazing hunger and dexterity to her fingers and shoved it in her
mouth and ran off like an alleycat just scoring a load off the local docks.
There was a very strong chance she had no idea what Ymir was doing, or if she
was there, but free lunch is free lunch and she helped the freckled fisherman
up above feel just that extra twinge of humiliation as she gripped her cap and
put it over her face, mumbling a stream of swears both unintelligible and
creative. Who knew you could call someone a 'shit-raptor' and mean it in
earnest rage?
As she stood on that roof and roared in both a sexual and digestive
frustration, neither of her appetites really satisfied, wrist flicking some of
her own salty brine off onto the road, a shadow slowly crept over her. It
wasn't past noon yet, was it? Last she checked her watch, it was late morning.
Was her mind wandering and half-asleep and half-horny a sign she had overstayed
her welcome? It was most likely just a tree, after all. She pulled her line up
and turned around ready to return to the group she left behind when...
...Well, that tree sure looked a lot like Historia did. Small, lean, strong,
blonde, sharp judgmental eyes, a cap similar to the one she had on. Well, it
was. If the one Ymir stole was Reiner's, then this one probably belonged to
Eren. Since, well, how angry all the lures on it gave it away. So this tree
wasn't a tree at all and was Historia herself, meaning the day of Ymir's was
about to be cut short and her fun ruined, if only because she knew trees can't
wear angry hats and if this one had one on, it only meant one thing.
She got fucking caught.
"Well, you're no tree. How long have you been fucking standing there and
staring?" Ymir blurted out, her freckles flush. Her rod, the fishing one, not
the other kind you pervert, flailed in her hand as she tried to assert herself.
"Since this started. What, you didn't think I'd follow you when I knew you were
up to no good?" Historia responded, arms cross. She had no fishing rod, but
carried with her a few interesting pouches on her belt, filled with things as
decorated and pointy as lures, but most certainly crafted for a different kind
of game.
Ymir's eyes didn't flinch from them, overacting and shrugging as she faked a
wide, shit eating smile. "I'm as innocent as pure driven snow. Say, those are
some interesting, ah, lures you got. Hunting for girls like I am, mayhaps? We
could team up with those toys of yours and..."
"Behind the pub and around the tree, bend over. I'll be there in five minutes."
with that, Historia barged off, a sharp look akin to a hunter's gaze on her.
"Shit." Ymir mumbled as she walked off and followed soon after cleaning up. She
knew what was coming. If it was anything akin to Ymir's boredom, surely
Historia too had just came to look for a place to cum too and relieve herself
from how much tedium gave them hardons. It wasn't uncommon for people to take
abnormally long bathroom breaks over this, especially when tired minds wander
to softer tits to soothe them, so everyone just kind of had this quiet
understanding and let them go and tend to things when needed. But Ymir herself
was only half satisfied and it meant that whatever Historia wanted from her,
for relief, was about to be a whole lot rougher for not being honest.
Her ass was in trouble, and she knew it in more ways than one. Her balls
cinched up near her ass and tightened in impatience. She'd have to be discreet
getting down and past the cheap pub in order not to frighten local fish-
cleaning wenches with her visible fishing rod poking from her pants.
Now that one did flail around and wenches were traumatized. She'd wave and
claim innocence but they'd just chase her off further down the road,
threatening to lock a fresh salmon on it and see how she liked that flailing on
her the same way it flailed at their massive cleavage. Oh gods, it was worth
it, though, that strong dock girl look got the freckled one every time. Forget
threats of slimy fishy bestiality, if she could get within even ten feet of
tits like that it made her cock all too happy and worth it.
Oh yeah, Historia. She finally circled her way around, only to find herself ten
minutes late, a minute for every set of tits she stopped to gawk at.
The exchange Historia wanted for her impatience and misbehavior most likely was
not about to be as worth it, though.
Once Ymir showed up behind that tree, the two exchanged glances. Ymir couldn't
even really make anything up at this point as to why she was late; after all
most of the port probably heard the girls yell at her exuberantly by now. She
just greeted her girl by dropping her pants and showing off her half erection,
still salty and sticky and rolled back from earlier, sighing as her balls
throbbed again.
"Do what you want, I'm in no state to fight back, clearly." Ymir sighed,
propping herself up against the tree trunk and showing her round, toned ass to
her girl, offering herself like some kind of wolf would almost, snarling and
snorting a bit as she felt herself leak and hide her face in her forearm.
Historia was all too glad her game just walked up to her. "I'd thought of going
easy on you, but you did dawdle, and the whole port and riverside know why now.
If you take this easy, I'll be quiet about the salmon incident I overheard."
With that said, Historia pulled out a long, strong, thick rubber and covered
Ymir's cock from her head to her shaft and balls and snapped it on with an
extra sharp thwap, making the poor freckled one wince a bit as her cock
throbbed and leaked in it, feeling it hot and tingling inside of it as her
whole body flinched and flushed under her robes. She left out only a whimper as
she tried to fight the urge to snark back, biting her lip as she took a few
long, deep breaths and felt her girl's soft, pale hands rub up against her tan
hips and balls, pinching them and teasing her.
Slowly more, Historia pulled out a few lure-shaped pinchers, attaching one to
each of Ymir's fat, freckled balls, making them twitch and load up fast,
watching Ymir as she howled and bit her sleeve to kill the noise, eyes shut as
she flailed and shook below her, submitting to a hand sliding up her sides of
her ribs and up to her small tits, where she was pinched further with more
clasps on her nipples, them beging tugged on as she felt Historia's front side
line up with her back and push against her, placing her teeth deep in her neck.
"Oh good, you flail well, just as I wanted~" Historia teased, unzipping her
pants and revealing her own massive fishing rod, half mast and leaking, already
pushing hard and quick against Ymir's asshole, pinching against it and pushing,
making Ymir eke up the tree trunk inch by inch and roar as she leaked further
in her sleeve, her whole body squirming and shaking and flailing in a way to
try to keep them quiet. "You look just like a succulent, salty herring right
now."
"W-what...how..." Ymir mumbled, her brain half gone on the tension now loaded
between her hips, her hormones warming all of her as she flopped in her tiny,
pale girl's arms, feeling her hands busy between her tits and balls, tugging on
her lures and pinchers to get her as tense and warm and loaded as possible
without cumming, making her squirm hard and exhale through her nose, nostrils
flared, gasping sharp but quiet as she tried to keep still and fight that
awful, disgusting comparison. How dare she call her the one thing she hated
most? So pickled, so salty, so disgusting. Who cared if this is how someone
would also perfectly descrbe her as a person, at least she never gave anyone
food poisoning.
At least, not to her knowledge. But the image of those old rollmops and canned,
sodium-laced strips of fish reeled through her mind as she felt Historia's
cockhead push into her and begin to hook her and reel her in as she was doing
to Sasha almost just moments earlier. Ymir left out a sharp, small yelp as it
made its way in, both her hips flailing to accomodate it like a big catch would
and trying to get free once she felt how large it was, as if she nipped that
hook too soon.
But seriously, when did she get so big? She doesn't remember her in the few
times they've experimented this way being this rough for forceful or fat-
balled. It hurt, but in a way that almost satisfied her, in an odd sense of
pride she accepted it and how much stronger and more confident her girl must be
getting if she was beginning to outgrow her.
Just imagining how big and throbbing it might be in her dry, clinching asshole
and how much deeper it was going made her whole backside and hips burn happily,
clearly the student fisher was outdoing the master, her eyes half open and
sharp, panting as she took Historia's girth and felt it slowly roll in and out,
a massive thick stream of precum loading into her rubbery sleeve and throbbing
side to side on its own as she felt her girl pinch her balls and slide up her
shaft in one hand and her tits being busy juggled in her other.
"See? You're such a good fishie, aren't you, all inviting, warm, slick,
slippery. You're mine, my catch of the day, as I reel in our rods, aren't you,
my dear herring Ymir?" Historia taunted, her mouth kissing the top of Ymir's
spine below her cape mantle as she pushed her own, strong cock in and out, her
precum slicking her shaft up down to her own smaller balls, feeling loaded up
herself as she teased her girl, kissing her on every freckle she could find and
resting, her mind slowly sedating and calming as she fucked her raw.
If anyone was watching, all they could hope is it was damn amusing that the
smaller one had the big one, well, by the balls and bait so well.
Ymir's balls and nipples begin to swell on her tackle shaped toys, unable to go
any longer she let out a few small bubbling noises as a joke as she came,
filling her sleeve to the brim with far more than she felt jerking it to
Sasha's tits earlier, arching and flopping forward and back hard as she let her
flailing ass and hips milk her girl into her, hoping to satisfy her with how
big a catch she was. Many long, lengthy spurts as white as the river foam came
out as she bit down on her own arm hard, spilling forth and feeling her balls
go from clenched and redhot to a rubbery, sensitive emptiness, panting and
drooling in an odd satisfaction as Historia reel her in, whole body flushed and
covered in a thick, warm sweat.
Historia came in tow, knewing if she just prodded Ymir the right way, she'd
help ride her in a way nobody or nothing else could, her big, strong, tan body
pulling her in all the way and forcing her girl to cum with her, filling her
speckled ass with her own salty spray, huffing and hearing her go from strong
to pretending to be tough in an instant as they clamped down and felt her
noble, pale cock come in her, squirming as hard as a rod would on a big catch
and spraying forth in full, glad her ass could accept it, feeling her hands
grip on her lured balls and tits in full enough to leave some visible bruising.
Just the way she liked it, though.
It took a while for them to unlock, just staying in each other in a hot, proud
ecstasy, catching their breath and letting the sweat slowly cool off their
flesh, only releasing and turning around in time for Ymir to tease poor
Historia of how much redder she gets in her fair skin.
"You almost look sunburned, girl." Ymir grinned, slowly taking her cocksleeve
off and tying it up to toss away properly, showing off the load she blew from
Historia's filling her ass right, pulling her pants up. "Come on, don't you
clean a fish after you reel it in? Clearly we need to get this stuff off us
before we rejoin the others, unles you want us to smell like a fresh catch.
Unless, of course, you like that herring smell."
Historia panted and grinned a bit, blushing more at the load Ymir was so
proudly showing off, watching her own ropey white cum drip from her ass a bit,
Ymir's balls an impressive sight even when deflated and drained like this.
"For once, you could do with the look. Come on, let's go show the others what I
caught with you." Historia laughed as she kissed Ymir's cheek, encouraging them
to pick up their supplies and go back to port and meet up with the others, no
matter how sticky and hot their pants now were for the rest of the day.
"Next time though, you be the bait." Ymir grinned.
"I thought you didn't like herring?" Historia asked as they rejoined the group.
"It's okay if it's you. Besides, you've yet to rock me so hard you make me puke
in the streets."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
The looks on their teammates faces as they rolled in to shore to come get them
was akin only to the worst seasickness as they overheard them brag about each
others' asses and lovingly compare their bits to worms and eels.
And if anyone asked, Ymir was the eel cocked one, the slippery bastard.
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