#something about a big strong man reduced to a moaning whimpering mess is so hot

[mitsuristoleme]

If you asked any number of Slayers within the Corps, most would tell you that Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa has no weak spots.

How could they possibly think otherwise? The combination of his wind-hewn appearance with the bold way he displayed every one of his scars would lead anyone to believe he was a man who didn’t care about physical limits, because he, quite simply, had none.

You however, you knew different. This sacred knowledge came only by virtue of you being the one privileged with warming the abrasive Wind Pillar’s bed, and it was a weapon only you knew how to use.

“Fuck,” Sanemi whined, his head thrown back. “Fuck.”

You smirked against his skin, savoring the way he trembled beneath you as you raked your hands down his outer thighs.

“What is it, Lord Hashira?” You swiped your tongue just below his navel and blew softly against it, your breath cooling the trail you’d left behind. “Is something wrong?”

Sanemi’s hips bucked from the seat of the chair where he sat, legs spread to accommodate your body as you knelt between his thighs. From below, you spied the way his biceps rippled as he strained against his bindings, his hands tied around the back of the lacquered chair in his dining room.

Bindings, made from your obi.

“You know what’s fuckin — shit,” his low growl was cut off with a strangled moan as you sucked harshly at his inner thigh, digging your nails into the other before raking them down.

Sanemi tipped back in his seat, a tendon in his neck straining and his chest heaving as you pulled away from his flesh with a pronounced pop! You smiled at the dark violet bruise that had already bloomed, admiring its stark contrast the paleness of his skin.

A gritted whine of your name disrupted your appreciation of your handiwork. With a careful smirk, you glanced up at the red-faced, panting Wind Pillar glowering down at you between his legs. When your eyes met his, Sanemi pointedly dropped his gaze to where his cock stood straight, nearly flush against his abdomen, and back to you, in accusation and silent demand.

You suppressed a giggle; it was clear that your beloved Wind Pillar was more than pent up and desperate for release. The tip of his length had nearly turned purple in testament to how long you’d been torturing him by using your mouth everywhere but on his cock.

You could have afforded him the sweet relief you’d withheld thus far, but truthfully, you were far too transfixed by helpless submission to justify giving in to his demands quite yet.

So you leaned in, allowing your warm breath to just tickle over the underside of his rigid length, before you latched your mouth instead against the delicate skin of his other thigh, branding him with another mark to match the one you’d just given.

“I swear to fuck —,” Sanemi’s hips bucked impatiently under your ministrations, his movements further limited by the restraints you’d tied around his ankles, locking him against the chair legs. You clawed down his thighs once more before you dug your fingers into their thick, rigid muscles, heaving him closer to you. “If you don’t —“

His threat went unleveled, however, as in a single, swift movement, you parted your lips around the leaking head of his cock. The moment your mouth opened to take him all the way down your throat, Sanemi shot back in his seat so violently, he most certainly would have toppled backwards, chair and all, if not for your hands slamming down atop either of his considerable thighs to keep him rooted in place.

“Ngh — thank fuckin’ Christ,” he ground out between a litany of groans. You peered up at him as you hollowed your cheeks around his hardness, and with it was with no small amount of devious pride that you noted the way his biceps rippled and tensed as the Wind Pillar fought against his restraints.

You returned your attention back to the rhythm you set as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your hot mouth with every stroke. Boldly, you swallowed around his pulsing length, and Sanemi’s ragged pants and snarls devolved into wanton, cracked moans.

You lost yourself to the tempo you’d said as you worked his cock, answering his euphoric sighs with satisfied hums of your own. But before long, the melodic sounds of his pleasure was interrupted by the distinct sound of fabric tearing, accompanied by a sudden tension in the Wind Pillar’s body pinned beneath your hands. Before you could pull away from him to inspect the source of the noise, Sanemi’s hands came to rest on either side of your head.

A delighted thrill shot through you like a bolt of lighting; he’d managed to break free of his restraints by summoning all of his strength to rip your obi clean in half.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he panted, his fingers weaving through the strands of your hair. “Fuck — I just —“

His explanation guttered out in favor of a series of renewed, broken groans as his hips began to twitch beneath you, Sanemi meeting each stroke of your mouth down his cock with his own, shallow thrusts.

You hummed and the vibrations from your throat made him whimper. Ordinarily, you would’ve pulled away from him for breaking your “no-touching rule,” but something about the way you’d reduced the impenetrable Wind Pillar to a gasping, desperate mess under your tongue inspired a rare but temporary mercifulness in you, and so, you allowed him to continue holding your head in place as he pushed himself further and further down your throat.

You’d let him have this one, you decided. After all, the poor man was about to learn that his disobedience meant he’d have to spill his release on his own abdomen rather than in the haven of your warm mouth or cunt.

part of my 2024 ‘make Sanemi a needy lil bitch’ agenda

[erosiism]

𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐋 | m!naga x m!human!reader | nsfw

scenario: (m/n) fucks his boyfriend, who happens to be a naga | naga’s name is aruna

contains: breeding kink, mating press, belly bulge, biting (probably more but I'm not thinking straight as I write this (literally), fucking a naga, naga has two dicks

word count: 2k 

author’s note: alas… my dignity fails once more. this was written months back so it isn’t as good as my current writing lol I feel like I’m morphing into a smut blog  | excerpt from swipe right

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE.

First, there was heat. A strong, searing heat. A insatiable desire—

"Fuck," (m/n) hissed sharply, as he felt something hard, something big, press against his groin—"Aruna, you—you—"

How did he even get himself into this situation? Was it the fact that his ex boyfriend had somehow managed to find (m/n) and insert himself into a date that was supposed to belong to them? And (m/n) had later said flippantly to Aruna to shut him up later if he was being annoying, and...

I didn't mean in that manner, (m/n) swallowed. Because now that usual lightheartedness —  that usual dismissal Aruna had to his stupid remarks had morphed into something deeper, darker—dangerous. Aruna had always let whatever comments (m/n) would say roll off his back—(m/n) was very aware that whoever else said those would probably get thrown off a cliff, brutally killed, or...

(m/n) had always been the exception.

And he supposed that it was the same case with the naga's desires. His sexual desires.

"I what?" Aruna fucking smiled, looking down at (m/n) with such an aggravating smug look on his face that (m/n) felt the urge kiss it off—"did you not place a bet, my dear (m/n)?"

"What bet," (m/n) furrowed his brow, "I didn't even—mph!"

His words were cut off when Aruna swallowed his lips up in a hot, steaming kiss, and (m/n) could feel the way the naga's tongue slid into his wet, hot, mouth, explore every inch of it until it even ventured to his throat, making breathing impossible—

(m/n) had to push him away, as he panted for air. He couldn’t see straight as his lungs searched for oxygen, his chest heaving. There was a thin string of saliva between the two of them, obscene, suggestive—Aruna's tongue had pulled at his lip, brushed the top of his own tongue, and had ridden along the ridges of his teeth, stretching at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so, so pretty," Aruna cooed, "don't you think? You look so beautiful, darling."

(m/n) really tried to subdue his raging erection, but coupled with Aruna's own pressing against him, making a few loose moans slip past his mouth...

Yeah. That wasn't going to happen.

"What do you want, (m/n)?" Aruna purred, "tell me. What do you want?"

"I—" (m/n) was a prideful man, but this was what Aruna had reduced him to. A loose, whimpering mess. "I want you to fuck me."

He wrapped his arms around the naga's neck for a deep, prodding kiss, one that tore the oxygen from his lungs, one that sent heat raking up in spine and blush spreading to his ears...

"That can be arranged," Aruna nipped at his lip—they moved against each other like crashing waves, desperate and hungry. (m/n) searched for something. Anything, to stabilize him, to hold him. He tangled his fingers in the silk lengths of black hair, making a soft moan rumble from the naga's chest.

It was so, so good.

And they hadn't even...

"Clothes. Off," Aruna whispered, his tone demanding and his hands hooking up (m/n)'s shirt—"don't tell me you cannot afford to buy more, with my money?"

"Hah, you certainly can—" The retort had not even left (m/n)'s mouth yet before the naga had torn his clothes off. Not even —

"Good to hear," Aruna said breathily, a smirk on his face, "to know you know I don't lack in funds, and that you can use it all up." He tipped (m/n)'s chin up, pressing a few kisses firmly onto his jaw.

Like the calm before the storm. Like Aruna was coaxing him for the sure pleasure and pain that was about to tug at his gut.

(m/n) hissed again when his cock found friction against the naga's thigh, and dug his fingernails deep into the muscle of his arm. He was bare—completely bare. Aruna could see every part of him, could annotate every inch of his human anatomy to his brain.

And the way the naga soaked that sight up, with his gaze, with the way his fingers took his own clothes off to reveal two—

Majestic. Aruna's naga form was majestic. From  the way those scales glittered so well under the light, so ethereal, so beautiful, from his tail, his eyes, his body...

(m/n) whimpered.

Aruna rolled them both over until (m/n) was the one on his back being pinned down.

“Say please," Aruna bent over him. The naga's silky black hair brushed against his chest, dragging along (m/n)'s nipples, breaking whatever composure and pride that the crown (m/n) was desperate to cling on. He didn't care how his voice sounded—needy, broken, already fucked out even when they had yet to start: "please," (m/n) managed to croak out, "please."

It sounded like gravel, it sounded like he was begging. The warmth in his stomach seemed to pulse through his body.

"Your voice is lovely," Aruna crooned, and brought his fingers to (m/n)'s lips. "Suck." His black eyes seemed to sear right through (m/n), and the finger in his mouth pressed down hats to trap his tongue. And so (m/n) did it dutifully, costing the naga's fingers in a thin sheen of saliva, wet and hot. (m/n) let out a choked huff of air, as he felt the fingers explore his mouth, felt those fingers crawling towards his throat, down and down and down...

Aruna pulled it out, looking satisfied. Pressing another gentle kiss onto (m/n)'s collarbone,  more marks were sucked into his skin into a little trail, leading whenever the naga fancied. It moved from the top of his neck, to his collarbone, trailing down to his bare chest. 

More, (m/n) pleaded, more. More. More. More—

Two wet fingers pressed against insistently at his entrance, and (m/n) immediately lifted his hips up with a hiss, relishing at the burn. At the stretch. It promised some level of release for the tension that had built up in his body.

And that damned naga sure took his time opening him up. 

A third finger joined after a period of time, and (m/n) felt the urge to snap at the naga, when the stretch had started to hollow him out.

"Patience, my dear (m/n)." Aruna whispered softly, yet wasn't he a hypocrite? The naga's restraints seemed like it could burst any second now, like it was boiling and simmering over the surface, "did no one teach you that?"

"You...agh!" When (m/n) opened his mouth to retort weakly at him, those fingers crooked inside of him, rubbing right into the spot that took the breath from his lungs all over again. He dug his fingers into the bed coverings and keened—his back arched into Aruna's hands, begging and begging to be fucked.

But that naga...all he did was proceed at a steady pace, before he added a fourth.

The stretch was exquisite, and was delightful. It promised to take some edge of the heat off him, and he let go where his hands were fisted, curled around the blankets to turn his face towards Aruna, tears rolling down his face.

"Please," (m/n) choked out, "please, Aruna. Please, please, please—"

Those four fingers rubbed against his prostate, almost like it was trying to milk his cries. His broken, hoarse moans. 

Fuck. He was panting now.

He almost sobbed when those fingers pulled out of his body. No, no. That wasn't... wait, was it? No. He wanted something more. (m/n) wanted to get fucked by more—the enormous cocks that the naga had—he didn't want to get fucked by four fingers, and yet it seemed like —

Teeth grazed his nipple before it moved up his throat. 

"Aruna," (m/n) said deliriously, "you. I want you..."

A solid hand planted down his back, forcing his chest back into the bed, his teeth dragging along the nape of his neck. Aruna bit. He bit there, his fangs sinking deliciously and deliberately into (m/n)'s flesh, sending a ripple of crimson trickling down. (m/n) let out a gasp, before the pain was slowly forgotten when finally, something hard dragged and slid across him.

The tip of them teased over the sensitive edge of his rim, as Aruna continued to mark him—continued to stake his claim. It was like the naga wanted to make sure that to the rest of the people that (m/n) had matched with, his loyalty didn't lie with them, it lay with him, first and foremost.

(m/n) belonged to him. Aruna belonged to (m/n).

The agonizing slide finally ceased, the head of Aruna's cocks—both at once, was what (m/n) wanted desperately, something to fill him up, please, please, please—

(m/n) felt it. He felt the burn of his rim being breached by something much, much, much thicker than four fingers. Something full, something that was about to burst. 

"Fuck, yes, yes," (m/n) begged with his wrecked voice, "Aruna, Aruna, Aruna—!" Given now the name crossed his lips between the prayer and a plea, he could and would have told all his friends to fuck off if it meant the naga could continue.

"I'm not even halfway," Aruna murmured, tone raspy and so hazy, "Open your legs wider."

It felt like (m/n) was being reshaped—Aruna touched the tight skin over his abs, not to bring him to release, but to feel the outside of what was inside him.

Halfway. Halfway, and there was already an outline of the cock visible from his skin.

And Aruna pressed. He pressed on it, his voice sultry and smooth, so satisfied.

"You look beautiful," He crooned, even when sobs erupted from (m/n)'s body—move, damnit. Move—"I wonder what you'll look like, filled with my children and full of my seed? Would I be able to run my fingers over the curvature of your body, and drink in the sight for months?"

"want it," (m/n) panted, "your children. I want them all..."

The cocks started their long drag out of him, pulling almost to the top before it slipped right back in. (m/n) expected roughness—he expected the rough plunge that would be sure to fuck every inch of sense up when he braced against the pillow, but was treated with a slow slide right into his burning rim that pressed the full breadth of his stroke against his prostate.

Aruna grazed it shallowly with every movement he made.

A sharp bite broke his skin again over his shoulder blade. Aruna's tail curled around slowly, making (m/n) curl into his touch.

"You want me to fuck you, my dear (m/n)?" Aruna purred into the sweat soaked skin of his shoulder.

"Harder," (m/n) panted. “Harder, please. Harder…” He scratched at Aruna’s back, fingernails digging into the naga’s skin.

Aruna let out an affectionate rumble from his chest.

"Gladly," He punctuated the word with a rough thrust that rattled the teeth in (m/n)'s jaw. The hand on his back forced (m/n) to lift his body higher, and (m/n) felt himself stretched and filled to the point where it felt like he would ever be empty again.

"So perfect," Aruna breathed, "you opened up so nicely for me."

(m/n) desperately reached up and tangled his hand into Aruna's loose hair. He twisted and pressed a kiss onto his lips before another earth shattering thrust fucked the strength right out of him, the warmth crawling up on him turning into a flame that threatened to consume them entirely.

Aruna reached out and grasped the back of (m/n)'s neck, using it to pull (m/n) back deeper.

It continued. Each thrust, each moan that slipped from (m/n)'s lips, each kiss. So gentled and heavy, so different from the movements down his hips.

"Inside—" (m/n) pleaded, a punishing thrust forcing the last word in one singular puff of hair—"me. I want you to fuck me so hard that the only thing I'll be comfortable on is your lap."

Something blazed in those black eyes. Aruna hissed, sinking his teeth deep into the back of (m/n)'s neck, where there were already crimson marks beaded with thin rivulets of blood. It was the bite that sent (m/n) over the edge. A final thrust pressed him flush into the mattress, his pleasure addled mind flickering and shaking at the last slam of Aruna's hips before he spilled, taking in the twitching of the naga's cocks, feeling the warmth that rushed into him.

He bonelessly collapsed, feeling the feather light kisses being pressed against deep aching marks.

"That was the first round," Aruna said in his signature honeyed tone, "you can't tell me you're already satisfied, when you were begging for it so desperately earlier..."

He captured (m/n)'s lips in another filthy kiss.

"Did you know, my dear (m/n)? A naga's stamina is plenty."

hope everyone liked it! don’t let it flop by reblogging, liking, and commenting ❤️ thank you for all the support so far

[2goth2moth]

Ink and Salt (GN!Squidperson x M!Human, NSFW)

Once again, big thanks to @xo-philia for beta-reading this :-)

Word count: 3257

Includes: Non-human genitalia of the tentacle variety, d/s undertones, praise kink, self-lubrication

Nothing Tilu ever did was subtle. No one could ever really tell whether it was natural or an extremely dedicated choice, but they certainly let it into every part of their life. The way they flirted was no different.

“Wanna make out?”

Only mildly surprised, Blair glanced at them over the top of his book. They were stretched out on their stomach across the floor in front of him, propping themself up on their elbows. “I thought you wanted to take a nap.”

“Yeahhh, I did,” they said with a luxuriant stretch. “But I got distracted by the cute boy sitting in front of me. And now I want to kiss him.”

Blair felt his face heat up. No matter how long he knew Tilu, their bluntness never failed to fluster him. He put a bookmark in between the pages of his novel before setting it on the desk he was sitting at. “Really?”

Tilu laughed, pushing themself back until they were sitting up, cross-legged. “You have to stop asking me that every time I want you. I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t want to kiss you. Do you want to?”

Blair nodded feebly, getting off his chair and sitting on the floor in front of them. Sitting on the same level made their already significant height difference even more pronounced. Even standing over a foot taller and with Tilu’s head barely reaching his chin where they sat, he still felt like they were towering over him. The markings that ran, jagged and electric, over their skin made them seem larger than life, an unintentional intimidation that was made more difficult for him to bear because of how much he adored them.

A hard fingernail made contact with his forehead. “You’re freaking out, I can tell.” Tilu brought their hand down to cradle Blair’s face, stroking his jaw affectionately. “Don’t overthink this. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No!” Blair broke in, grabbing Tilu’s hands in his. ”I want to! I just…” He took a deep break to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful. I want to be good for you.”

A cool blue flush dusted Tilu’s face and ears. It rose prettily on their snow-white skin, contrasting with the rich wine-red of their markings. “You’re so fucking cute. Just get over here and kiss me already.”

He obeyed. Tilu’s hands found their way to his face again as their lips met. Their mouth was cool against Blair’s, and he shivered as the tip of their tongue traced the seam of his lips. Small, round fingertips caressed the delicate skin behind his ears as he opened his mouth to Tilu. Their tongue was long, and dextrous like the rest of them. It filled Blair’s mouth, flicking around his throat and palate, tracing over his teeth. He sucked on it gently, eyes fluttering at the feeling. His hands came to rest on their waist, stroking up and down their sides, dipping fingers up under the crop top they were wearing. Both of them were moaning softly and Blair could feel spit dripping from the edge of his mouth.

Tilu pulled away from him, leaving him slack-jawed and panting. They had translucent black saliva smeared around their lips. He was unbelievably pleased at the thought of himself matching. “I want to keep going.”

The question was unsaid but fully understood. “Yes please.” He whispered.

Tilu moved back in to kiss him again. It was sloppy, and their small, sharp teeth dug into his lips as they moved together. They shoved their hands up underneath his shirt, scratching over his ribcage and chest, pausing to lightly play with his nipples. He moaned again, loudly, and pulled back enough to let Tilu take off his shirt. His own hands found their torso, and began tracing over their markings. Dark red, spidery, scratchy things, they burst at the centre of their belly, curled over their delicate collarbones, framed pitch black eyes. He let one hand dip low enough to trace over the markings that rose above the waistband of their shorts. Even though he couldn’t see the rest, he knew that they marked the centre of their scalp and ran down their spine, and his mouth watered.

Clearly getting impatient, Tilu pushed him roughly. “Lie back.” They quickly stripped off their shirt, revealing an expanse of quartz-like skin. They ran their hands over their chest and abdomen, uninterrupted by nipples or a navel. “I want to ride your face and your cock.” Their shorts were next, a thin rivulet of black liquid dripping from a small slit in their pelvis down the inside of one thigh. “Take your pants off too, I’ll stain them.”

Blair rushed to obey, kicking his pants off his legs before settling on his back. His cock was half-hard already, lying flushed and sweet against the bottom of his stomach. Tilu shuffled over to straddle his chest first. They grasped his chin firmly, turning his head from side-to-side slightly, as if appraising a piece of art. A small thumb was shoved between his willing teeth. Blair sucked on it softly and thought that he would die a happy man if this was the last thing he ever saw.

“Good boy,” they cooed down at him, that pretty blue blush spreading to their shoulders and chest. “Are you ready?”

He nodded eagerly. Tilu pulled their thumb from his mouth with a quiet pop, the digit still attached to Blair’s mouth with a string of spit, and repositioned themself over his face. More black fluid was leaking out of them, slicking their public bone, running into the creases of their thighs. It smeared itself into the tacky mess of saliva already covering his face as they lowered their hips over his mouth. Blair flicked his tongue out to lap some of it up, the taste strong and salty. He continued running his tongue over their skin, doing his best to clean all the dark fluid up, not yet teasing their sheath. Tilu rocked their hips against his face in small, insistent circles. His adoring touch redoubled, brushing soft kisses and sucking small blue bruises anywhere his lips could find purchase. Still, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t start on their sheath. A tight grip in his hair broke Blair’s concentration and he pulled back, gasping, as far as he could.

Glassy black eyes stared down at him over the smooth milky stretch of their body. “Come on, baby. Don’t you want me to ride you?” Tilu smirked playfully at him, leaning back to play with the head of his cock. Blair let out a strangled moan, simultaneously nodding his head and trying to buck his hips into their hand. “You do, don’t you?” It was punctuated by a single rough grind down on his face. “Well, you have to get me ready first.”

With a nod and a whimper, Blair dove back in, now focusing all his energy on their sheath. Tonguing at the tender skin at the opening, he felt more inky liquid spill into his mouth, staining his lips and leaking out of the corners. He could feel Tilu getting more turned on in the way they rode his race more aggressively and sweet sounds of pleasure rose up from their throat. As he kept working them over, the tip of a cool, slick appendage emerged to probe his mouth. Blair opened his lips to let it in. It roamed his mouth, caressing the inside of his cheeks, wrapping around his tongue. He let it slip into his throat, tongue free to continue working at Tilu’s soft skin. More tentacles began slipping out of their sheath as he gently worked it open with his mouth.

“That’s right, baby,” Tilu murmured. They began running their whole hand up and down his hard length. “You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” Their voice had gone soft and breathy in that lovely way it always did when they felt good. Blair could feel himself flush under their sweet words and touches, and he hummed around the tentacles slowly filling his mouth. There was no doubt that he looked like a complete mess: cock stiff and leaking on his belly, eyes full of tears, face and neck smeared in black slick and spit.

The way Tilu’s tentacles looked now was clear evidence of their pleasure. Teased out from their slit by Blair’s hot tongue, they bloomed like an anemone, gently waving about and stroking his face. His eyes rolled back in his head as more of them breached his mouth, stretching his jaw almost painfully, slowly fucking his throat. Moans escaped his mouth as he suckled on the salty-slick tendrils. A foggy haze was beginning to fill his head, senses overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of what he was feeling. The rich, briny scent of the black liquid, the pressure of tentacles filling his mouth, the rocking of their hips onto his face, the feather-light strokes on his dick. Tilu still pinned him to the floor with that bottomless gaze, although it now fluttered with every lap of his tongue.

Small fingers closed around the base of Blair’s cock with shocking force. His whole body tensed up and he moaned loudly, though the sound was muffled by the writhing mass of tentacles in his mouth. Tilu backed up from his face to straddle his stomach. They cradled his face lovingly, spreading the thick black slick around his mouth. Emotional tears leaked from his eyes and they wiped them away with a gentle hand. “Look at you. You’re so lovely, you know?” The way they continued touching, as if he were something to be treasured, nearly reduced him into a puddle. “I want to ride your cock now. Let’s see how much lovelier I can make you, hmm?”

“Oh my god, yes please,” Blair begged, squirming helplessly beneath Tilu. His desperation was met with a pleased smile that was filled to bursting with affection and needle-sharp teeth. They leaned down to kiss him sloppily. One hand worked over his dick in slow, teasing strokes as that long tongue licked deep inside his mouth again.

“I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard,” Tilu purred against Blair’s mouth with one last kiss. They positioned their sheath, now open and surrounded by tendrils, over his steadily leaking cock. The tentacles curled sweetly around his hard length, like tongues and fingers in one, running along his shaft and just barely breaching the slit at the head. Sharp bolts of pleasure shot through his body, burning through his ribcage and making his toes and spine curl. A high-pitched whine tore from his throat. Tilu planted their hands on his chest, nails digging into the soft flesh above his nipples, and braced themself to lower down onto his cock.

Even heavily slicked and with their tentacles fully extended, the size difference between Blair and Tilu made this a delicate process. Pointed teeth stuck out over the ridge of their lip as they bit down hard enough to draw icy-blue blood, face a cool-flushed mask of concentration. The head of Blair’s cock pressed hotly into their sheath, the stretch just bordering on painful. It took all of Blair’s self-control to stay still under their body, effort betrayed only by breathy gasps and a lightly jumping muscle in his abdomen. The slick pressure that engulfed him felt unbelievably good. Easing down a little bit more sent Tilu’s head arching back violently with the beginnings of a strangled cry.

“Fuck, you’re so good like this,” they said through clenched teeth. “So patient. Just a little longer, okay?”

Blair nodded, moving his hands to rub reassuring circles into their calves. Tilu’s head being thrown back gave him an excellent view of the pearly skin of his torso. The starburst of dark red on their stomach dipped and rolled with their heaving breaths as they lowered themself the rest of the way down his shaft.

When his cock was fully seated inside of them, Tilu exhaled shakily, loosening their grip on Blair’s chest. Small red crescent-moons mark the swell of his chest where their hands had been gripping for dear life. They apologetically soothed the marks with their cool fingertips, rubbing the divots flat before ghosting their hands over his nipples. Teasing the nubs up to hard pebbles with feather-light touches, they worked over his tender flesh before giving an experimental roll of their hips. The movement dragged Blair’s cockhead against the slick walls of TIlu’s sheath. A bolt of pleasure shot through Blair’s body, drawing a long, low groan out of him. Another roll splintered the sound in his throat and drew the fluttering muscles in his belly taut. The look of stubborn concentration melted off of Tilu’s face, being replaced by one of confidence and pleasure. Blue flush now traced down their throat, chest and shoulders, as well as staining their face and ears.

Tilu stared down at him with a cocky smile. They pinched at his pebbled nipples, hard, and ground down onto his dick again. Their tentacles started winding around the shaft of his dick in earnest now, squeezing around the slickened skin instead of just teasing it. Leaning forward enough to place their lips against his ear, they whispered, “I want to make you cum so hard that you forget your own name.” Blair keened loudly, arching into them, nails digging into the meat of their calves. A single tendril snaked down to cup his balls. “Get fucking ready, baby.”

They rose up on their knees, his cock sliding out of them until the tip was the only thing stretching them open, before slamming back down. The feeling set both of them moaning loudly and Tilu began fucking themself on Blair’s cock properly. Their legs spread over his hips gave him a mouthwatering view of the inky black spread over them and the azure hickies that he left on their tender inner thighs while he ate them out. “You’re- AH- so beautiful!” The cool walls of their sheath were squeezing him tightly, the rest of his shaft and balls wrapped in slippery tentacles, nipples still being roughly worked over in skillful hands. His moans were quickly turning into cries in the face of such extreme pleasure.

A particularly hard grind sent Tilu’s black-glass eyes rolling back, the surfaces wet with tears. They moaned wantonly, long tongue lolling out of the corner of their mouth. “God, I love your cock so much!”

Hands wrapped around Blair’s wrists where they were still gripping into Tilu’s calves, wrenching them upwards so that he could hold onto their hips. He grabbed into the soft flesh, holding on as if they were a rock in a stormy sea. He could feel the muscles under their skin flex with every motion. Sparks were shooting through his blood, curling his toes and drawing desperate sounds from his mouth. “Oh shit! Slow down. Ple-ease! I’m about to cum!”

“Cum inside me, baby.”

Blair’s entire body was tensed up, but Tilu didn’t let up. They started bouncing even harder, even faster, walls squeezing around him. Leaning down to his chest, they wrapped their lips around his left nipple, keeping their hand teasing his right. Sharp, needle-like teeth bit around the sensitive bud, careful not to break skin, the pain soothed by flicks of their slick tongue. Translucent spit leaked out around their mouth, creating a mess across his chest. Their hips began stuttering on him but they refused to let up. Riding his cock with even more intensity, they bit down on his swollen nipple at the same time as a tentacle wrapped tight around his balls.

“Ah, I’m gonna...AHH!” The pleasure coming at Blair from every direction was too much and it tipped him over the edge. His hips stuttered deeper into Tilu’s sheath once, twice, before he came impossibly hard, near-screaming out in pleasure.

Tilu continued bouncing on his length, even as he spasmed with overstimulation. Blair could feel them getting ready to climax as their tentacles started writhing wildly and their chest began heaving even harder. Sweet, high moans were spilling rapidly from their lips, mixed in with curses and little words of praise.

“Fuck, just look at you. So gorgeous.” They dragged the nail of their pointer finger through the tacky mess of slick and spit on his face. “You look so damn good, even all filthy like this. I’ve never met someone as pretty as you.” Tilu always got sappy when they were about to cum. Sinking all the way down onto his softening cock, the tentacles splayed out like the petals of a chrysanthemum and the walls of their sheath constricted even tighter around him. Their back arched dramatically, and they came with a high-pitched whine. “FUCK!”

Blair rubbed his thumbs into the meat of their hips, feeling pulsing aftershocks go through them, the overstimulation making him flinch. They leaned down against his chest and kissed him deeply.

“Mmm, that was good,” Tilu murmured against his lips, smiling needle-toothed and affectionate. Rising up on their knees, both they and Blair groaned quietly as they pulled off of him. He looked filthy. Saliva and slick were drying in dark smears on his face, chest, and crotch, and he was still sweaty and panting. His eyes were foggy and happy as he sat up.

TIlu were barely in better shape. Thick, jet-black liquid, the remains of their orgasm, leaked out of their sheath, marbling grey with Blair’s semen. The mess covered the hickies on their legs, and almost their entire body was flushed, the cool colour lovely against their red markings. Their thigh muscles quivered from the stress of holding themself up for so long, and when they moved to sit beside him, he could see their knees were turning blue as well. Even so, their eyes were soft and warm, and they looked thoroughly content.

His heart still squeezed with regret. “Tilu, your knees,” Blair said, reaching out to catch one of their hands and bring it to his lips. He kissed their knuckles, then their fingertips, then their palm with a kind of apologetic reverence, settling the curve of his jaw against the inside of their wrist. “I’m sorry, I should have thought to put something down for you to kneel on.”

“Shhhh,” they chided, rubbing lightly behind his ear. “Don’t be silly. I could have put something down too, if I’d wanted to. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you were wonderful.”

Blair felt his face heat up again at their soft words. He leaned against their cool wrist, humming into the delicate skin there. “Okay,” he whispered. “You were wonderful too. You look very pretty right now. Like this”

Tilu smirked at him. “‘Like this’? Bruised and blushing and dripping cum, with all of my tentacles out?”

“No!” Blair blurted out. “I mean...yes, but I meant...satisfied? Happy. You look happy right now. I like seeing you like this.”

They stilled for a breath before surging forward and wrapping their arms around him. “You’re a goddamn sap, you know that?” They said, turning their head to the side so that their face was nestled into the side of his neck. “I also love you so, so, so much.” Tilu kissed his throat once- ever-so softly, ever-so sweetly- before standing up, tentacles starting to re-sheath themselves, and offering Blair their hand. “Shower with me?”

He looked up at his lover, standing there beautiful and happy, and he nodded.

[tsumucore]

can I request a nsfw version of the s/o’s of daichi, oikawa, wakatoshi, kuroo, and Bokuto with big thighs? whatever your mind leads you to is fine! S/o is fem too please 👉🏻👈🏻

here you go

Warning: NSFW ahead

Daichi

The best way to get him instantly rock hard is to walk around in anything that shows off your thighs. You get extra points if you’re wearing garters and thigh highs.

Loves to take his time appreciating your thighs; he starts off by gently squeezing them before moving down to place his head in between them. His grip on them becomes harder as he places sloppy kisses on one of them, following the path of hickies he had left from a previous session while simultaneously creating new ones.

Once he reaches your core, he avoids it and moves over to the other thigh and starts kissing downwards, following the trail of marks that littered it until he reaches your knee.

He takes his sweet time with this routine, while you’ve just about had it because you want his mouth somewhere else already. He won’t give your sopping heat any attention until you’re begging for him.

Once he’s satisfied, he promptly eats you out with the vigor of a starved man. His favorite place is headfirst in your pussy while being crushed by your thighs.

Sometimes, you’ll let him place his cock in between your thighs so he can fuck them to his heart’s content. When he cums (and he cums hard), he likes to spill his release all over them.

Oikawa

DEFINITELY the type to finger you under the table, even if you’re in the presence of others. He starts off by running his hand over your thighs, before suddenly squeezing them so hard that you know there will be handprints left afterwards.

He then slides your panties aside before proceeding to tease your soaked heat with his dexterous fingers. He especially loves when you snap your thighs together and crush his hand in an attempt to control the situation for two reasons: you’re in public, but you’re also trying to force his fingers to go where you need them.

The entire time, he’s smiling and feigning interest with the rest of the table. He only glances down once when he feels your walls clench desperately around his fingers; a sign that you’re about to cum. He keeps an eye on your thighs; he loves watching them tremble as you reach your orgasm.

Luckily, the rest of the table was engrossed in the conversation at hand, so no one noticed your pathetic attempt at masking your orgasm. For the remainder of the meal, his fingers delicately traced patterns on your thighs.

One time, he decided to bring foodplay into the bedroom by practically coating your thighs in whipped cream. He never broke eye contact with you as he slowly cleaned up the surface area with his tongue.

Whenever you tell him he can cum anywhere, he usually chooses to do so on your thighs. The thought of him being the one to paint your thighs white fills him with a sense of satisfaction.

Kuroo

One way to get him aroused instantly is by wearing the tightest possible shorts you can wear. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something so hot about the look of your thighs almost bursting through the material.

After you’ve completely stripped, his eyes widen slightly as they take in your statuesque form. No matter how many times he’s seen your bare body, it still feels like the first time he ever saw you naked.

Just about pounces on your thighs before proceeding to pepper them with kisses while murmuring how beautiful they are. The kisses become rougher as he moves closer to your core, until he’s sucking at the supple flesh while his predatory gaze is locked with your bashful one.

Likes to casually rub your inner thighs with his cock before entering you. Once he’s pounding balls deep into you, his grip tightens on your thighs until they’re bruised.

His favorite position is taking you from behind because he knows that his grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you upright as he’s completely railing you.

Like Daichi, he loves putting his cock in between your thighs. He admires the sight of your thighs swallowing him up as he slowly thrusts in between them.

Ushijima

Listen… this man is an absolute dom. He starts off by ordering you to wear the garters and lacy thigh highs he bought you before you’re allowed to even think about him touching you.

Like Daichi, he’s a sucker for marking your thighs up. He won’t be satisfied until most of the surface area is littered with hickies.

Teases you mercilessly by tracing his cock along your slit but refuses to enter you until he feels you deserve it. As punishment for not begging hard enough, he slaps your inner thighs with first his hands, then his cock, until you’ve been reduced to a whimpering, moaning mess.

The garters, thigh highs, and iron grip he has on your thighs remain as he pounds into you.

Since he’s often away traveling for games, you’ve given him a polaroid of yourself wearing nothing but the garters and thigh highs to hold him over until he comes back home.

Whenever he finds himself craving your touch, he pulls out the polaroid and strokes himself to the image of you in his favorite look. These jerking off sessions get intense - he fucks into his hand hard and desperately tries to stifle the low moans threatening to slip out as his panting becomes uncontrollable.

When he cums, it’s the hardest he’s done so in a long time.

Bokuto

He has such a fixation for thighs, whether they’re yours or his. They’re his favorite features on both of you, so it’s only natural when they get extra attention.

LOVES when you sit on his face because it means he gets to be crushed by your thighs. Thanks to the steel grip he has on them, you can focus on him lapping at your juices and sucking on your clit instead of worrying about bearing your full weight on him.

Also more than happy to fuck your thighs.

When he’s in his dejected mode, there’s no better way to cheer him up than by completely stripping down in front of him and positioning himself over his muscled thigh. As you start to grind on it, you lean into his ear so he can hear the moans dripping from your lips.

Has such a praise kink, so you usually tell him how much you love his strong thighs and how they’re perfect for getting yourself off to, especially when he flexes them just right.

One time he thought it would be fun to make you wear red lipstick before giving him head. You positioned yourself in between his thighs and started planting kisses all along them until you reached the base of his cock where you gave him the sloppiest blowjob of his life.

After he came, he looked down at his thighs to find that they were absolutely covered with saliva and messy red kiss marks. The sight was enough to get him rock hard all over again.

A/N: sooo this is my first time ever writing nsfw… I would rlly appreciate some feedback from you guys :3

.°•  rules  ₊˚•.  masterlist  ₊˚•.

[tarithenurse]

To the point - 3

Pairing: au!Satoru Gojō x fem!reader Content: All the smut. Add a pinch of dom/sub, a drizzle of bondage, sweeten with pain, let it simmer for a moment. No proofing. A/N: Third and final chapter...and longer than expected.

3. Point taken

I should not have done that. Walking towards your last appointment, you’re not worrying about the floofy, pastel coloured dress you’re wearing (although it’s not your usual go-to style) but what’s underneath it. No one can see it: hidden beneath the almost knee-long, flowy skirt and the silken panties hides the result of a great deal of work that you never had expected to get done. I should. Not. Have done that. But you can’t undo it.

Face glowing hot, you try to ignore the reflection in the glass door as you enter the tattoo parlour. There’s no one around at the front. No sign of other customers in any of the two small rooms...at least it doesn’t seem so judging by the lack of sounds.

“Mind locking and turning the sign?” Gojō’s voice calls from behind the curtain at the left cubicle.

A muted, little croak is the only answer you can offer aside from doing as asked. Get yourself together! The mirrored motion of straightening up, pushing the shoulders back, catches your eye once more. Not bad, if you do say so yourself. Almost...innocent looking. That, of course, would be a lie and knowing that emboldens you enough to keep your head high as you pass the curtain.

“Well, hell-ooo,” Gojō purrs at the sight, eyes travelling over your form appreciatively.

It should have been you saying something to showcase the amazement you feel: everywhere are candles and flowers, in a corner is a beautifully painted box (closed and absolutely curiosity inducing), and music is flowing from Satoru’s docked phone.

He can see enough without the electric lights on? That’s when it hits you that he isn’t wearing the usual sunglasses. Perhaps he’s sensitive to the light. Why’ve I never asked?

“Hop up, princess.”

Technically, he partially lifts you up, large hands wrapping around your waist only to slide down slowly along your thighs before guiding your legs apart and into place. His fingers are hot against your flesh, as he rests your left leg in the cradle. Crystalline gaze tracking the shift of the skirt as it falls towards your hip, baring the work in progress.

“Perhaps -” he pecks a kiss to the inside of your knee -”we should take some precautions this time?”

There’s barely enough air in your lungs to answer. “Such as?”

Gojō grins wickedly. “Getting rid of these.” He curls the fingertips up under the dress, hooking onto the edge of the panties. “Would be a shame to ruin them.”

And then you remember and you catch his hands in yours. “I...I...don’t know if...ermm...”

“So shy, princess. Well...I guess it’s only fair that you aren’t the only one on display.”

And true to his words, he pulls off the t-shirt to grant you with a delicious view – there really is no better word to describe the lithe, muscular build. He isn’t bulky, but each muscle is clearly defined and makes your imagination’s creativity pale. You’re too distracted to notice where he drops the shirt. But you do see his hands go for the button and fly of his jeans and your pussy does respond to the view as he reveals himself fully for the first time, confirming the suspicion from the night you danced with him.

“Better, sweetie?” He saunters back between your legs, each movement enthralling and full of confidence.

Nothing stops you, as you sit up to reach out. Fingertips softly trace the lines of his body and turning him around. There’s a fairly big tattoo on his back and it takes a moment before your can extricate your focus from the individual strokes (symbols) of the pattern to see that the whole makes out wings that move with his shoulders and shoulder blades. It could have been tacky. It is ethereal.

“Like what you see?” He flexes cheekily, a goofy grin banishing the rest of the awkwardness you had accumulated over the last days.

“Oh yes.”

A large hands splays over your pussy, thumb rubbing your inner thigh and sending sparks to your abdomen, your chest. Then it’s gone, and the next touch is that of the needles jabbing into your skin.

Sweet pain mingles with fiery caresses as Gojō carries your through for an hour or more on the verge of ecstasy without once passing the silken barrier and by the time he takes a break to focus completely on you, you’re a whimpering mess, begging for more.

There’s no reason to oppose him as Satoru lifts the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie (which, for once, matches).

“Sweet princess,” he croons against your belly, hands scooting under you to grope your ass, “you want more?”

“Y-yes yees...”

Your own hands are clamped on to the edge of the seat, hips automatically tilting towards him until he pulls away. Through a haze, you see him go and open the box, pulling out something small enough that he can hide it in his hand. Wait...two somethings.

“Can you be a good girl for me?” Of course you can, you will be anything for him. “Put this into your sweet cunt.”

He hands you one of the things: a silicone bullet, smooth and slightly warmed from his touch. There’s no hesitation as you slip your hands beneath the panties, gathering the slick on the toy. It’s not what you had expected, not quite what you need, but it makes you moan to push it past your entrance and feel it almost plop into place. It’s not on purpose when your fingers linger to stroke your folds.

A strong hand clamps around your wrist. “Did I tell you to play with yourself?”

“No-o,” you gasp.

Brilliant eyes have grown icy. “Then why did you?”

“I just...I need m- I need you please.”

He can’t hide the shrewd smile completely. “Only if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be good from now on?”

“Yesyesyes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you.”

Returning your hand to the edge of the seat, he leans in over you, hips pushing against your inner thighs and his cock twitching against your pussy. Gojō’s chest is hard and warm against yours. His lips soft along your jaw.

“Good,” he whispers, “otherwise I’d have to tie you u-” interrupted by an involuntary roll of your hips, his eyes search your features before he continues, “...oh. I see. Are you sure?”

If I’m not allowed to touch and he doesn’t do it? You nod, but it’s probably a new roll of your hips that convinces him to find two leather straps in the box, one for each wrist. He’s gentle as he ties you to the seat, whispering sweet promises and explaining how to navigate this new territory safely. When done, Gojō kisses you agonizingly slow and deep and your brain can’t help but imagine how it would feel if he was using his tongue like that but on your pussy instead. Tense and hot, clenching around nothing...and he smiles as he retracts because he knows and his cock is damp from having pressed against your soaked panties.

“Mmm, perfect,” the words are mumbled against your cleavage and then repeated as he kisses his way down your body in a straight line.

Almost. Almost there. But of course he skips where you need him the most and you have to bite back a whine as he sets to work on the artwork again.

Kisses. Fingers massaging and rubbing. Soft bites. Each sends new jolts through your body, keeping you close to the edge with no risk of toppling over. Want more. As if on cue, a rumble rocks through your cunt, making it clench around the toy you had forgotten all about in your frustration. Maybe it’s a gasp (it could be a moan) and Satoru understands the sentiment perfectly and lets the vibrations continue as your breathing speeds up and you teeter on the verge of the first orgasm -

“Noooo...”

Everything has stopped and Gojō watches your body regain its balance instead of succumbing to pleasure. The bastard had turned off the bullet and no matter how hard your pussy squeezes around the thing, it’s not enough. Straining against the leather of the cuffs, you try to reach down. Your fingers know the motions. Your clit is throbbing. Inner walls weeping. And Satoru looks at you with hooded eyed while running a hand lazily along his length.

...

The base colours are filled in and the millions of jabs with the needles has caused your thigh to ache wonderfully. It’s not enough to distract you from the much deeper burning in your core: a desperation, a longing so profound that words such as grace or dignity have lost their meaning completely. Tears are filling your eyes and dripping down your cheeks as you babble. Begging. Pleading. Sobbing for Gojō to take pity on the wreck of a girl strapped down before him.

“I love the way you sound, princess,” he mumbles against your hip, “adore the way you stutter through my name.” Adept fingers have left the most sensible parts of your body momentarily to wrap up the tattoo. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

It’s impossible to fit together a string of words. Your brain has been reduced to mush and you’re trembling with need as his lean body presses against your flesh, his raging boner pushing at the soaked fabric of your panties. And he purrs, damn it, the man enjoys the sensation of the vibration he’s subjecting you too as they travel outwards.

“Pl-ple-ease!”

“Yeah? No more playing?” Somehow, the blue of his eyes manages to pierce through the haze of tears.

You’re not entirely sure when he frees you wrists. And the surprised growl as he finally pulls your panties off could just as easily have come from miles away. Two licks is all the aching folds are granted before he maps a path up your body, marking each detour with kisses and bites that makes you whimper at the delicious sting. There’s almost no power left in you to sit up like he wants you to...but somehow you manage for long enough to wrap your arms around him so he can unfasten your bra.

“It’s okay, darling,” he nibbles at your earlobe, guiding you onto your back once more, “hang on a bit longer, mm?”

“M-mm,” you nod, happy for the reprieve as the bullet stops.

Next second, the calm is disturbed as Gojō pulls out the toy slowly, leaving you more hollow than ever. A slobbery sound piques your curiosity, fighting against the reduced vision until you see him lick every trace of you off the silicone.

“I can never get enough of your taste,” he groans, winking at you. “

“You...how do...”

No, words are too difficult. It’s not as you really need them anyways, your brain tries to remind you before losing all sense of reality except the one fact that you’re finally feeling a cock head slipping up and down between your folds. Not just any cock, of course.

“Yeah...plea-OH!”

Shock waves of hot pleasure courses through every cell in your body at the sensation of Gojō bottoming out. Without warning, your body is wrecked, taken apart and put together in a heartbeat that lasts forever as your insides spasm and the only thing you can scream in your ecstasy is his name. And he doesn’t even move, just waits for you to come down and catch your breath.

“Hmmm, we need more space, princess.” His voice is strained.

Somehow, the man manages to lift you, still impaled by his erection, and carry you through a backdoor and up to the next floor – to be fair, you’re not thinking too much about it because all you can do is hold on as each step he takes sends aftershocks through your core.

You are aware of the soft feel of a mattress against your knees, realizing that he’s laid down in bed with you straddling him. Please, yes. It’s impossible to say where it comes from – probably the desperate craving that hasn’t been satisfied enough – but new energy tugs at your limbs until your sitting upright and your hips begin to roll. Every time he says your name,  you reward him by pulling nearly all the way off and then sinking back down.

“Why’d I wait so long?” Satoru groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Feel so...amazing.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me be good to you?”

Gojō seems to be the one struggling for words now as he thrusts up into you with each roll, trying to speed up despite your effort to keep it slow. It’s not long before he lifts you up and down by the waist, praising the bounce of your breasts and asking you to play with them. Of course you comply.

“Fuck!” He pulls you off, scrambling to get behind you and pushing you forward on knees and elbows. “Ready, babe?”

“Gimme, please.”

You're aching for him inside, a deep longing for the balancing act between the pain and satisfaction he can grant you. Breath reduced to superficial whimpers. Hands clenching the sheets. All the anticipation building up to the point that you're shaking as you feel him align himself. Deep...hard, the inner voice keens.

It's neither. Frustratingly slow, Satoru fills you again, underlining the discovery of the bumps and quivers against his length with wonderfully delicious moans.

"Wanted to do this at the club," he growls strained, "slide into heaven. Feel your tight cunt around me as we danced." Finally bottoming out, Gojō's hips stutter and his fingers hold tight enough to bruise your hips in his efforts to still you both. "Fuck, princess! You're so damn perfect, I wouldn't have been able to hold back."

"You wouldn't have had to," you whine, core fluttering at his words.

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you and for a moment the only sounds are from two sets of panting breaths and an obscene squelching. One hand trails up your side only to return via the spine, nails scoring to set your nerves ablaze.

"I think it was worth it," he purrs, "this view? Beautiful. And no loud music to cover your sounds." As if to prove the point, he rams in deep to make you cry out again and again.

You're right at the verge, the dizzying precipice begging for that last stroke to push you over the edge and fly on the updrafts – and the second before it happens, Gojō's strong arms pull you up flush against his chest and he growls into your ear to scream his name. The change of angle, the command, or maybe the feeling his teeth digging into your earlobe as he pulls you down hard on his cock has you cumming with him.

Rather than an explosion or waves, the bliss concentrates heavy and hot and spreads its blinding rays outwards until there is nothing but deeply saturated satisfaction.

You come to you senses sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around you for support for both. Satoru's chest is heaving against your back, but he's still capable of peppering your skin with kisses.

"I know we got work to do still on your thigh but..." his tongue catches your earlobe, making you hum with delight, "be mine, princess?"

It takes a second before you can talk. "Is there any doubt that I am already?"

"Nope...but I like the way you presented your heart to me," you hear him smile.

[homogrimoire-archive]

Life Loves to Surprise

Qrow/Hazel smut with the barest amount of plot.

AO3 Link

Qrow thought he had been to every bar in Vale at least once before, but apparently not. He found one he hadn’t noticed before on his way to his dingy, and rarely used, apartment. He had to be able to say he had gotten drunk in every bar in Vale, and he honestly needed a few drinks after the emotionally draining mission he had finished earlier. So, he made a small detour to the bar that was lodged between two much larger and more noticeable buildings.

The place looked alright, though it was likely it looked better during the late hours. A few strippers were working their pole, though most of the patrons were minding their own business. It was that time of day when sad, unfortunate souls came to drown their sorrows. At the very least, he knew it was unlikely he’d end up in a fight, even with his luck. The people here just wanted to be left alone and forget the cruelties in their life.

Qrow fit right in. He ordered the thing with the highest alcohol content, and took a seat in a dark corner out of habit. Scanning the place lit only by neon lights, he saw that he was right to presume so much about the fellow drunks there. They all sat miserably by themselves, nursing whatever drink they could afford that would get them drunk.

He took his first sip. It went down comfortably warm, with just a bit of bite to it. A few years ago, he would have gagged drinking such a thing, but now, the taste was graciously welcomed with open arms. He let out a low groan of satisfaction, the ice clinking as he placed it back down on the table. Qrow saw that the man in front of him was staring at him. The man quickly averted his gaze and went back his drink the moment he realized Qrow saw him.

Qrow knew at that moment one of two things would happen later: he would either have to fight for his life again, or he would get laid. Whatever would happen, a drunk him would deal with it. Qrow kept an eye on the man as he went through a round of drinks. Qrow caught the huge man staring a few times. Qrow smiled knowingly each time, and Qrow knew he saw, but each time he shrunk away, acting like he wasn’t caught leering. It was cute.

By his final drink at the bar, Qrow decided to make his move. He got up and out of his chair, and sauntered over to the man’s table. He took a seat right in front of him. The man looked up real quick to acknowledge him. Up close, Qrow could see that the big man was very cute and very hot.

“Hey there handsome, come here often?” Qrow asked the man. Yes, it was cheesy and basic, but it got the man to answer.

“Not really.” he answered. Qrow likes his deep voice.

“Yeah. There are better places to be at. There’s a bar a few blocks from here that’s cheaper with better drinks. My place is also a better place to be. I’ve heard it has some really good customer service. Not too far either.” he drawled. The guy was cute as he blushed.

“... You’re not a prostitute, are you?” the man asked. Qrow laughed.

“Sometimes, I wish I was.”

“Your place sounds good then. Lead the way.” He said as he stood up, revealing his full height. Qrow was in awe of how huge the guy was. Already, his hopes were high. On the short walk, he learned that the man’s name was Hazel, and that he was currently a bodyguard for a ballet school.

The moment Qrow unlocked the door, Hazel was all over him, and Qrow was all for it. The guy was an aggressive kisser, and Qrow was going to be just as aggressive. It had been a while since he had been so aggressive, and with a big guy like Hazel, he was going to be as aggressive as he wanted. As they made out intensely, they practically ripped each other’s clothes off.

Once Qrow’s pants were off, Hazel pinned Qrow against a wall, and sunk down to his knees, caressing Qrow’s body as he did so. Qrow didn’t even get to see the other man’s cock, to his dismay, but the view certainly made up for it. If Qrow could have gotten any harder, he would have. The sight of the huge man starting to play with his cock was the stuff of the wettest dreams.

First, Hazel slowly played with the head, liking and sucking on it, teasing Qrow as he moaned. What soon followed was positively lewd. Qrow yelped as Hazel went all the way down on him, moaning as he took Qrow’s dick down this throat. The sound of him gagging every now was not enough to compel Qrow to pull away. And if anything, it made Hazel just want to swallow the cock even deeper. With his strong hands, he gripped Qrow’s hips and guided him into face fucking him. Once Qrow got into a rhythm, Hazel used his now free hands to tease Qrow’s sensitive nipples.

“Damn, you’re─” he said in between heavy breaths and another groan of pleasure. “You’re─ Fuck! I’m gonna─” Instead of finishing his sentence, he screamed as he shot his load down the other man’s throat. Qrow could hear the man choke a little, but he didn’t pull away. Hazel made sure to swallow every drop. Once the cum stopped flowing, Hazel took the cock out of his mouth with an obscene pop.

“Are you,” Qrow said, sitting down to catch his breath after having his soul sucked out of him, “you sure you're not a prostitute? Make a damn good one.”

“Hmm. Not a bad prospect, now that you mention it.” Hazel replied. It would be a good way to experiment more, and bring in some more money too.

“My turn!” Qrow eagerly said as he grabbed the hard cock in front of him. It was thick, and dripping precum. He couldn’t wait to have it stretch his hole. He made the move to begin sucking on it, but was stopped by the man’s hand pushing his head back.

“Huh?” he wondered. He wanted to suck some dick, dammit.

“Later. Where’s the bed?” Hazel asked, and Qrow quickly led him to the bed. He laid down on it, and spread his cheeks open for Qrow.

“Ohh.” Qrow said with surprise and excitement. An unexpected, but very welcome development.

“Thought you might be hungry.” Hazel said with a sly smile.

“You thought right.” Qrow replied with a carnal look in his eyes as he dove in to eat the man out. Qrow moaned as he licked and entered Hazel’s manly hole with his tongue. Getting to hear the hulking man moan vulgar words was enough to get him hard again.

“H- hey,” he said to get Qrow’s attention. “I’m ready.”

“Mmm. I think I wanna have a little more fun first.” Qrow said as he pulled out a bottle of lube from under his bed and uncapped it. He spread a layer of it on his fingers, and prepared to prepare the other man even more. But before he even put his fingers in, the bed’s legs gave out, the bed landing against the floor with a loud thud.

“Uhh…” Qrow could hear the concern in the man’s voice.

“Don’t worry about it. Thing’s cheap and I’ve got bad luck.” Qrow sighed.

“If you say so.” Hazel replied.

“Now, where were we…” Qrow said, and went back to fingering the man’s hole. It was a lot more comfortable for Qrow now that Hazel was lower the floor. He hissed as the first two fingers went in. Qrow took his time opening him up, slowly jerking the man’s cock as he did so. Hazel let out a moan when Qrow found his prostate, bucking his hips in retaliation.

“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear.” he said as he put in a third finger and massaged the spot, reducing Hazel to a whimpering mess. Qrow could spend all day listening to that. After about another minute, Qrow took out his fingers and put on a condom, lubing it as well.

“Ready?” Qrow asked as he got up and onto the bed. As he lifted Hazel’s legs up, he could see that the man was in a state that was blissful, yet frenzied state.

“Gods yes!” he answered in exasperation. Qrow was more inclined to be in Hazel’s position, but it sure was damn nice to have a guy like him crying out to be fucked by him. So, eager to comply, he started out with just his head, slowly going in and out.

“Come on, fucking fuck me!” he ordered.

“Bossy.” Qrow teased with a wicked smile. He played with the man for a moment more, pusing in only his head still.

“I swear, if you don’t─” he was cut off by his own scream as Qrow thrusted his cock all the way in. He kept the pace going, eliciting even more of those indecent noises Qrow loved out of the man. He leaned forward so he could sloppily make out with the man as he fucked him nice and hard.

Qrow moaned into Hazel’s mouth as he slid in and out of his hole. It felt so good, he had half a mind to just become a top. But, the thought was interrupted by that telltale tension growing in his groin. Before he could even say anything, he was already cumming, thrusting deeper and more erratically as he groaned from the release. Eventually, he pulled out his cock and yanked off the cum-filled condom, tossing aside it with careless abandon.

“Forgetting something?” Qrow heard Hazel ask just as he was about to rest his head on Hazel’s beautiful, pillowy pecs.

“Hm?”

“Get on your knees.” he ordered, and Qrow realized that he almost forgot to do one of his favorite activities: sucking dick. As Hazel moved to sit at the edge of the bed, Qrow excitedly got on his knees on the floor, and placed his head in between Hazel’s thick thighs. He leered at the hot and thick cock before him as it leaked more precum than before. It looked like it could burst at any given moment. He began to diligently lick every inch, but was pulled up by his hair, making him moan in ecstacy.

“Just suck.” he commanded, and then released his grip. As ordered, he took the cock in his mouth.

Although he couldn’t take it all in like Hazel had done with him, Qrow was superior in his technique, bobbing his head much more efficiently and using his tongue to greater effect. As predicted, Hazel was dangerously close to cumming. He pulled Qrow back by his hair as he groaned loudly from the intense orgasm, letting cum decorate Qrow’s face. As he came down from the high, he looked down at the beautiful and obscene sight before him.

“And here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” he smiled with pride.

“Is that a challenge?” he joked as he made his way to the bathroom.

“May─ Crap. Sorry to leave, but I have work in fifteen minutes.” he said. Qrow could hear him hurry to throw his clothes in.

“It’s cool!” he shouted as he got a shower started. “There might be water in the fridge if you want! And if that sex worker things works out, let me know!”

“Yeah! Will do!” Qrow hears as the door shuts.

As Qrow relaxes under the warm water, he wonders if this bossy bottom would be the one to tame him. He certainly wouldn’t mind. The guy seemed nice enough. Though, he always imagined someone different. But, life likes to mess with Qrow Branwen.

-

Qrow curses the heart that gives him hope, but knows he wouldn’t be alive without it, so he keeps on hoping, for someone.

[raptorginger]

Stacks of Pretty Paper-chapter 5

for @sofondabooks, mood board by @sofondabooks

It was the first time in thirty-six hours that Rey felt relatively lucid.  Whether she actually was or not, was a point she would later debate with herself.  Lucid or not, she felt confused, to put it mildly.  And embarrassed.

She was perched in Ben’s lap, resting against his chest as he fed her bites of fruit and honeyed toast and helped her guzzle down water from a glass that was probably suitable for his ridiculously large hands but much too big for hers.  And he was, well, there was only one way Rey could think to describe it, he was petting her as he whispered sweet things against her naked skin.  Ben, the man who had previously called her the bane of his existence.  Oh yes, she was quite confused and embarrassed.

Rational Rey might have something to say about this.  Something that would surely involve strong language and a punishing run through the park.  But Omega Rey, she felt safe.  Cherished even, which was something neither of them ever thought they’d feel.

“How are you feeling, Rey?” Ben asked softly, concerned.

Rey bit down on her lip to suppress a moan as Ben pressed a plush kiss to the curve of her shoulder, his fingers featherlight over the nape of her neck, just above her mating gland.

“G-good,” she stammered, shifting in his lap.

Ben nipped her shoulder, his tone shifting lower, almost a growl.  “Don’t lie to me.”

“No!  I am It’s just…,” Rey looked away from Ben, unable to bear the look of hurt that flashed in his eyes.  She cupped his cheek tenderly in her hand, trying to reassure him.

“I’m sorry, Alpha.  You’re taking such good care of me,” she murmured as she nuzzled his neck.  Alphas needed praise and reassurance, just like Omegas did.  It just usually came in the form of orgasms, but Ben actually seemed to care beyond that.  Rey didn’t know what to make of that.

“Then what, Rey?” he beseeched.

Rey gestured to the middle of her chest.  “I feel so...overwhelmed, I guess.  Usually, the pain drowns out everything else.  But now, with you, there’s not as much.  And, I guess, that’s strange, because you seemed to hate me so.”

She sighed and laid her head on Ben’s shoulder.  “It’s so much, Alpha.”

Ben held her tightly in his arms and helped her finish her fruit and toast.  As he began to reach for his own food, Rey batted his hand away and insisted on feeding him herself, as he’d done for her.

“Keep holding me, Ben,” she implored, holding a bit of apple to his lips.  Ben’s eyes darkened as he nodded, taking the sweet crisp bite in his mouth slowly.

“I never hated you,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I may have been annoyed, but that’s not the same thing.”

Rey let out a snort of laughter.  “Now who’s lying?”

Ben took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze burning in its intensity.  “I could never hate you, Rey.”

“You hardly know me,” she breathed.

“I know enough.”

He kissed her then, deep and consuming, drawing gasps and soft moans from some place deep inside her.  Rey threaded her fingers through the tangled locks of his hair, tugging gently.  She could feel him hardening beneath her bottom, and she began to pant with need, the flames of her heat beginning to lick at her again.

Ben stood with a groan and carried her through his house and back up the stairs to his bedroom.  However, he surprised her by taking her into his bathroom, rather than his bed or the blanket pile in the corner.

“Alpha!” Rey whined as he set her on his counter.  

After he turned the shower taps on and warm mist began to fill the room, Ben turned back to her.  The way he looked at her, his eyes so dark and hungry, his cock thick and throbbing, made heat pool in her middle.  Rey hopped awkwardly off of the counter with an embarrassed squeak as slick began to coat her again.  She opened her mouth to apologize, but Ben was on her in a second, crowding back against the counter until the edge was biting into her lower back.  She gave a little hop and braced her forearms back on the counter as Ben knelt on the hard tile before her.

Rey tried to protest, but Ben levelled a look at her that left her breathless as he maneuvered her shaking legs over his shoulders and buried his face between her thighs.

Rey stopped worrying after that and let her head fall back, surrendering to the pleasure that Ben gave her.

“Ben,” she breathed, slipping one of her hands gently into his hair.

He hummed against her wet folds, sliding one of his arms back to support her, his hand nearly spanning the width of her back.  Her eyelids fluttered open, her lashes casting a smokey haze over her dark eyes.  She gasped softly and began to quiver, the lurid image of Ben’s dark head between her thighs burned into her mind.  Ben raised his molten eyes to hers, but instead of lust or hunger, there was a softness, a vulnerability that Rey did not expect.  A sweet warmth suffused her blood, and she found herself overcome unexpectedly, coming with a soft whimper against his tongue.

Rey reached for him, and Ben pulled her gingerly into his arms, carrying her into the steam filled shower.  She nuzzled into his neck again, wanting to simply be close to him, as he set her carefully on her feet and keeping his arm around her middle.  Rey could feel him, hot and hard behind her, but he made no move except to run his free hand up and down her back soothingly.  She barely noticed the warm water cascading over them, soaking their hair and skin.

“What do you need, Omega?” Ben whispered into her ear.  She shivered pleasantly.  Everything about him seemed made to pleasure her.  Even his voice, deep and warm.  He skimmed his fingers up her back, stopping just beneath her mating gland.  Rey’s eyelids fluttered and she moaned quietly, the sound hardly audible over the streaming water.

“Answer me, Omega,” he growled lowly, pushing her forward slightly over his arm.

Rey moaned needily as she felt him push through her thighs, through the slick sensitive tissue he’d just lavished attention to.  She began to ache.  She needed him, needed him inside her, around her.  It scared her.

She tossed her head back and forth as she tried to get words out.  She whimpered pitifully and managed to choke out, “You. Just you.”

What happened then, happened all in a rush.  Ben was bending her willing body over his arm, thrusting in and out of her almost gently.  Lovingly.  He was purring, whispering in her ear.  Telling her how perfect she was, how well she was taking him, how he was going to fill her up so good.  How beautiful she looked so full of him.  She was a moaning sobbing mess, panting “Alpha” and “Ben” over and over again, begging him to let her come on his knot.  She shattered in his arms, falling limp, fluttering around his knot as it worked to lock them together.

Ben’s mouth was soft against her mating gland as he kissed her there, his voice gentle and reverent as he murmured against the tender fragile skin, almost as an afterthought, “Mine.”

Rey cried out sharply, almost a scream, when another climax ripped through her, unbidden and unexpected.  She felt her cunt grip Ben voluptuously, making him moan deeply with pleasure and surprise.

“Jesus, Rey!  Omega!” he panted as he tried to thrust deeper into her, his cock growing impossibly hard again.

“Do it!” someone was screaming.  “Claim me, Alpha!”  It couldn’t be her.  That made no sense.

Ben stilled behind her.  Rey blanched.  His hand was over her gland, heavy and hot.  She didn’t feel any pain, and she didn’t feel any different either, but still she smelled blood.  Rey crumbled to the shower floor, taking Ben with her.  Someone was sobbing.

Strong arms cradled her and held her close, streaks of bright red streaming from the back of Ben’s hand and down the drain.  He’d bitten into his hand rather than her.

“Shh, Rey.  It’s okay,” he was saying gently.  “This happens sometimes.”  She knew that, of course, somewhere in the back of her mind.  She’d read it somewhere.  It was logical.  Pheromones and emotions ran high during a mating cycle, wreaking havoc on mental processing and neurotransmitters.  But nothing about this felt logical.  Ben rocked her carefully, still locked to her.  Still filling her.

“I’m sorry!” she sobbed over and over.  Oh God, what had she done?  What was happening to her?  It was too much.  Too much.  She began to wail.  She couldn’t breathe.

“Omega!” an Alpha command cut through her crying like a knife.  “Be still!”

Her nerves locked and she could feel herself shutting down.  She looked up at Ben plaintively.

“You did nothing wrong, Omega.  I shouldn’t have done what I did.  Kiss you like that, I mean.  The state you’re in, I should have known better, but I…,” he trailed off.  

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he finished quietly.

“Alpha,” Rey whimpered, looping her arms around his neck.  Water pounded against her back.  She felt herself relaxing.

“Don’t let me go,” she breathed.  Rey closed her eyes.  A small frail child, dressed in plain dirty clothes, appeared in her mind’s eye.  She began to shake.  “Don’t leave me.”

His hands were soothing again, chasing her fears away, sending them down the drain with the water.

“Never.”

Rey struggled to hold on to any sense of cognizance or rationality after that.  Her entire existence seemed reduced to pheromones and physical need.  Ben seemed better able to keep a level head, but such was the job of an Alpha.  Rey envied him as he tucked her carefully into his bed before curling up around her.  Ben’s back couldn’t take the floor anymore, and truthfully, neither could hers.

When she woke several hours later, it was pitch dark outside the big window.  Fire burned inside her, and she whimpered softly.  

“Pathetic Omega.  No Alpha could ever truly want you,” a voice inside her hissed.

This was always the hardest part for Rey.  Again, one that was usually dulled by pain, but not this time.  It never lasted long, but it was always the worst.  She dreaded it now.  Tears fell from her eyes and soaked the pillow beneath her cheek.  She tucked her knees up close, trying to make herself small.

Strong, sure hands grasped her hips and pulled her back against a warm chest.  Soft hair tickled her neck and cheek as Ben kissed her shoulder and ear softly.  Rey let out a soft moan.  Whether it was one of need or sadness, she couldn’t be sure.

“My poor Omega.  I’m right here,” Ben whispered against her skin.  Rey shivered as he brought one of his hands between her thighs to find her wet.  He purred deeply with approval.

“Only you,” she sighed as he parted and stroked her gently.

Ben groaned and adjusted her hips, burying his cock deep inside her with little preamble.

It was exactly what she needed.  To be filled with him.  Locked to him.  It was strange, but he just seemed to know.  She felt herself come around his length, his knot, faint flutters like butterfly wings.  He cupped her sex gently, comfortingly almost, and played with her idly, slowly coaxing another climax from her.  He kissed her shoulder and neck softly and slowly, idle like is fingers.

“Is this what you needed?” he asked her between kisses.

“Oh yes.  So good to me, Alpha,” Rey sighed as she drifted off.

“My good girl.”

“Your good girl.”

Her heat ended in the middle of the next night.  Rey awoke to the dark again, and for the first time, Ben was passed out, deeply asleep beside her.  As her rational mind returned to her, Rey began to remember the things she’d said in detail, the things she’d asked him for.  The things she’d felt.

She panicked.

She ran.

[tarithenurse]

Not enough

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Content: dubcon, drugging (á la pollen), rough sex, angst, feels, pining, awkwardness, fluff, swearing. A/N: Is it possible to get enough Steve Rogers? Nope, but this is still just a one-shot and soooo not for minors.

Not enough

Recon missions are a drag. Most of the time it’s just a matter of verifying some intel Tony and Natasha have gathered with their magical hacking skills, or it’s a painful task of finding someone who’s left no digital fingerprint which generally means they know how to stay hidden both on and off camera.

This time it’s the latter.

Obviously, you want to catch the people behind the trade of fusion weapons on the black market…you’re just not sure that wading through the sewers beneath the industrial outskirts of Moscow was strictly necessary because the Kremlin’s bound to hold much more information than a chance meeting at some factory.

But then again…the pessimism in control of your thoughts might just be due to the stench of rot and other unpleasantries oozing from your boots.

You’re almost happy when Steve pulls up in front of the tiny house the Avengers has rented. Leaping out of the car, you barely pause to get the gross footwear off before dumping the rest of the contents of the bottle by the door over your feet. As you stalk through the house, the car door slams outside, signaling that the Captain is getting his ass in gear. At least I get to shower first.

It’s just the two of you, something you’d actually looked forward to in the hopes that you’d get to get closer to the man. Very little can distract Steve Rogers from his mission in life, but you refuse to believe there’s no more to him. The man’s smart, kind, and sure his background is messy to say the least but whose isn’t? So you took off to Russia with him and an extra mission of your own.

So far, you’ve failed horribly.

Steve’s seriousness has morphed into a sullen hostility and you have no clue why. At least there’s a mattress on the floor in the spare room which you’ve gladly accepted as your after the awkward flight, and though the house might be frigid, it’s nothing compared to the few scowls the man sends you when you dare get too close to you during morning or bedtime routines. Well fuck him. Apparently, heroes aren’t all they’re made up to be.

Grabbing the still damp towel and a set of clean clothes from you room, you scurry off for a much needed shower. It takes a moment for the boiler to catch the idea of hot water, but eventually the scalding water washes away the last stench and your irritation. In fact, you’ve managed to think yourself far away even as you begin to dry yourself, stepping out of the too-ugly-to-be-kitsch bathtub with a soft tune on your tongue. Dude, it feels great to rub the coarse towel over your scalp without a care about how much of a mess your hair will be – right now you just feel the tension dissipate under the fingertips and a draught bring in fresh air to chase away the humidity.

Wait.

There shouldn’t be any air coming in.

Instinctively, you let the towel fall as you reach for the gun tugged away under the stack of clean clothes. Jeans and whatnot are strewn as you continue the movement, bringing the weapon in front of you to point at the head of the intruder. The aim is true for a second – then you falter at the sight of who it is.

“Steve!? Goddamn it, man!”

There’s no reason to fight the Captain as he engulfs your gun and hand in his, calmly bringing it down and to the side where no one can get hurt.

“Steve?”

He doesn’t answer. The bright blue of his eyes is reduced to a sliver that roams along your body causing you to become hyper aware of your nakedness but reaching for the towel on the floor merely results in Steve grabbing that wrist too. It hurts a bit as he twists the grip, forcing you to let go of the gun which clatters into the sink.

“What’re you doin’?” This isn’t the Steve you know, not the kind guy with a heart of gold and who blushes at the mention of fondue. “You’re hurting me.”

The old Steve is there for a split second, surprised at your words or maybe his own actions, but it’s gone just as quickly. You don’t have time to prepare, registering all too late the shift that allows him to grab both of your wrists in one hand above your head as he pushes you against the nearest wall. The tiles are shockingly cold against your backside and you can’t help but arch to avoid it even if it means pressing yourself against the taught figure looming over you.

“Fucking perfect,” a guttural sound escapes Steve, “better than imagined.”

What? You’ve what now? But the questions racing through your head never make it off your tongue. Feverishly, greedily, Steve’s lips crash onto yours. It’s rough, and it’s dominant, and it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for as long as you’ve known the guy. Reduced to a whimpering mess, you reciprocate.

But your logic comes flooding back the moment you feel Steve’s hand upon your waist, pulling you roughly toward him as he forces a knee between your thighs until the only purchase available is by wrapping your legs around his hips. This is wrong. At least you manage to break the kiss, stumped at the growl it triggers before he’s got your jaw in a vice-like grip that forces your face back to his. This isn’t right. Pupils blown out of proportions; brows furrowed to darken his eyes more. He is so close your noses almost touch and you inhale his breath, laced with spicy liquor and something akin to medicine. Drugs?

“This isn’t you, Steve, there mu–“ His hand shifts to your throat, fingers and palm pressing hard enough to cut off your plea while still allowing you a minimum of breath.

The bottle. You hadn’t left the water by the door, and there’s no way the meticulous Captain America would have, so someone else must have been here. Inside too? If so, then they could have gotten their hands on anything, booby-trapped the place or even…even laced the food and drinks with poisons or some shit.

“Shut. Up.” No more than a whisper, the words still carry clearly in the small room. “For so long…been watching…wanting…” A nudge by his thigh sends your body sliding upwards over the condense-covered tiles. “You’ve longed for it too, don’t deny it.”

It’s true. Even now, not knowing exactly what to expect of the man, you can’t help but react to the rough physicality and want to feel his muscles under your hands. Heat radiating from your core is mixing with the cold of the wall to the point where you don’t know which is causing the goosebumps to spread like wildfire across your skin. Yes, I want you. It’s wrong. Wrong to want this, and wrong to want to make use of whatever shit is influencing Steve.

“Y’do-on’t reall’ mean ‘at,” you manage to choke out, surprised as he relents the pressure a bit for you to continue, “wha’ever’s influencin’ you…making you think –“

“I fucking mean it!” Gone is his patience. “Just didn’t…I couldn’t…fuck! Can’t wait ‘ny longer!”

Big and calloused, the hand he’s held your wrists with roams your body, cupping your breasts one by one to play roughly with your already pert nipples until you gasp against his hold at the sharp sting. His mouth is anywhere it can reach, teeth tugging at skin while his tongue seems to try to soothe what surely will become bruises, but you don’t mind, pulling at his t-shirt or tangling your fingers in hair to guide him on.

It’s impossible to help the craving soaring through you, making you rock against the sweatpants he at least has changed into. The soft material soaks up the first signs of dampness that isn’t from the shower, and you see his nostrils flare to take in the scent of your arousal like he’s some animal. He might as well be. Right now it doesn’t matter because a strong thumb has found your clit, pressing deliciously until a jolt and a twist of Steve’s hand has you riding his fingers so he can spread your wetness with rough, calculated movements.

“So needy for me,” he grunts into a kiss.

You are. What little friction is left now that your juices are spread all over your cunt and his hand isn’t enough to keep you satisfied even if it’s bringing you closer to bursting.

“Mo-ore!” You frantically palm his cock through the pants, hoping to bring your point across somehow. “Need…more…”

Any other day, you would love to wipe a smug smirk like that off a guy’s face. Not today. Neither do you protest when he detangles himself from between your legs, unceremoniously dumping you on your toes where you have to fight to keep upright unless you want to have your air supply cut completely. Panic ripples through you as you struggle, only partially aware that Steve’s tugging at the waistband of the sweats.

Lightheaded, heart pounding in your ears, your body changes tactics to conserve oxygen by going lax and allowing the Captain to bend you over the sink. Cold porcelain digs into your hips, holding you in place. The fogged mirror presses against your forehead. Need air!

As if answering the unspoken prayer, Steve lets go of your throat in favour of holding your hips steady and sheath himself in your cunt with one hard thrust, making you cry out in surprise and untamed lust. Again and again – without giving you a chance to adjust to the intrusion and size of him first. Each time he pulls out you manage to get a lungful of air which he then promptly pushes out of you by ramming so deep it can be felt in your stomach.

“Fuck-ing…tight…”

No shit. Every muscle in your body is overworking themselves. Back flexing. Hips and ass grinding against each thrust to ensure the slap of his sac against the clit, sending jolts through your womb into the spine from where the signals are rerouted to your legs. Ah! You feel the knees buckle, thankful for the support the sink gives and Steve’s bruising grip, and holy fuck you can’t hold back the loud moans covering parts of the mirror with fog until you can’t see the reflection of the scene.

“Wanna…wa-nna see…” you plead on a broken cry, “needa-a-aaah!”

Steve’s has angled you as you spoke, an arm under your left knee, his and your right hands scrambling for purchase on the sink. Not just does he still hit the g-spot, the new position sets your body in hyperdrive as it’s flushed by the change of sensation. The coil inside you is wound tighter than you’ve ever tried, waiting for the Captain’s command to release. Please. You’re so close.

“Touch yourself,” he grunts before dipping is face to your shoulder, planting his teeth in the skin and then trailing licks and love bites towards your breast bouncing just within reach, “do it.”

Not daring to relinquish the support you move slowly, your own fingers dancing against the root of his cock until –

“Fu-uck!”

There it is (covered in the silken wetness beneath soft curls), hard and flamingly sensitive to the shaky strokes of your fingers. The coil winds impossibly tighter for each stroke, each thrust, each suckling bite and soothing lick to your nipple.

And then you find yourself on the very edge, a hairbreadth away from tipping over into oblivion, pausing to meet Steve’s eyes. The black of his pupils has all but swallowed any hint of colour beneath the heavy lids. Face flushed. Lips puffy. Hot breath fanning your shoulder.

“Do it…” he smirks, “cum…for me.”

A few hard circles around the clit and then you topple over, body seizing and shuddering as euphoria explodes throughout your being, walls clenching Steve’s rigid cock at first and then suddenly nothing at all. The absence leaves you hollow. Despite the vague sense of strong arms carrying you, the whimpers still escape as you beg for your Captain to fill you up again.

The voice is still hoarse and deep when it whispers in your ear: “You want more, huh?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just drops you on a bed and hauls your ankles onto his shoulders. You try to form some semblance of a sentence as you descend from the high, lungs dragging in air repeatedly with no more than needy moans to show for it. Moans that turn guttural as Steve’s shaft glides between the tender folds and over you sensitive clit. Groans pitching into little squeals each time fingers find and tweak your nipples or teeth latch on to your neck because it keeps you dancing on the border to ecstasy.

“Pl-please!”

This time he moves slowly, allowing you to feel each sinful stretch as your cunt is filled beyond the wildest dream.

“Look at me, [Y/N].”

How can I deny you? You need to blink to clear your vision, bringing a sight of wonders into view through the blur. Flushed with beads of sweat, Steve’s gaze is locked on you. Perfect teeth dig into his cushioned lower lip as he pulls back and it causes a new wave of lust to pool and the walls in your cunt to contract around him.

The slow pace is abandoned soon. You find purchase by holding on to Steve anywhere possible, often changing because the hands slip on the sweaty skin under which his muscles are rippling and flexing with every rut that drills you further up the mattress and his cock deeper into you.

His eyes never waver from yours.

Not as you reach a new high, writhing beneath him and his names falling from your lips on increasingly loud cries until…

“[Y/N]…fuck…love you!”

Your heart stutters together with Steve’s thrusts.

…

Captain America has fallen asleep quickly. Sated, just like you, he’d rolled off and on to his side, dragging you into his arms and burying the nose in your hair where he promptly began to snore.

Now you’re lying there with the streetlights sweeping onto the ceiling and a million thoughts milling in your head. Regrets? Not on your behalf. Confusion? Oh, yes! With your back pressed against Steve’s chest, it’s as though a certain peace is seeping in through the skin and you have to shake yourself free mentally before you find the willpower to begin turning in his arms. You’ve made it onto your back when the activity stirs Steve.

“Mmm…hey…”

The voice has nearly transitioned into a bass that curls around warm and gently to tug at your heart. For a moment he lingers in the calm. Then you see the brows furrow, concern flooding his features as memories return, cold and insisting like a winter’s wind.

The pain of realization is audible: “[Y/N]…”

“Whatever you drank from…we’ll send to it to analysis.” You can’t look at him - seeing his regret would hurt too much.

A strong hand cups your jaw ever so tenderly, softly turning your face towards Steve’s so you can’t avoid meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry if…if I hurt you or…did something you didn’t want to. I am.” The tip of a tongue is visible as it darts out to wet his lips, stirring the ghost of what else that tongue has done. “But I knew what I was saying and ev–“ Steve sighs, “[Y/N], I really have dreamed of being with you. And not just sex but more…if I’ve ruined that now then I compl–“

A kiss is all it takes to shut him up. A kiss that starts hard and clumsily, melting into something soft that could last forever.