Hihi! I was wondering if I could request something with a touch averse, aroace, chubby male reader?:o something with maybe like,,,, reader and his queerplatonic partner? Who is a bit older than reader (Both are adults ofc) whom people tend to think is reader's sugar daddy bc he's always taking reader shopping for pretty clothes n stuffXD
— Note
900 words. M!Reader. Slightly Suggestive. Crack Taken Seriously. Mild angst/Comfort. Mild reference to some stores not having better sizing.
I know you didn’t ask for a genuine moment per se, but I did think about how there might be some discomfort in the assumption, hence adding one. Hope this suffices.
masterlist • ☕️🤎🤍💙🩵💛 hope you like • dividers @/huraxy-dividers
He’s not exactly sure when this.. image came about, but once it happened the first time he started noticing it more often.
A couple odd looks when browsing stores together, his partner towering a bit while musing about what he’d look good in. Some zeroed-in stares from staff from the front desk when his partner insisted on getting something custom made ‘if they weren’t going to bother keeping better sizes’ in a loud drawl so they could hear their lack of options. A raised eyebrow at the black card his partner paid with (it was not an actual black card – it was a debit card he got a custom black design for as a joke).
.
People assumed his partner was his sugar daddy.
.
Now.
This, of course, to those uninitiated in calm mediation between personal and public life, was mortifying to learn.
He balked at it the first time, double-taking with a panicked look at the bored cashier at the high-end mall they frequented, who seemed clearly just biding time at 6PM and had posed the honest question to his partner like nothing doing.
‘Are you like.. his benefactor or something?
Like.. sugar daddy or..?’
Said man in question paused. Staring back at the cashier, having just taken back his card.
Before that damn, cocky, insufferable grin came over his face.
While he was older than him, he was also childish first thing.
And he knew he had to cut him off quickly before he said something utterly ridiculous.
“Oh, why ye-”
“NO, we are NOT. THANK YOU.”
He rushed to take the bags and quickly walked out, his partner trailing – all-too-smug – behind him. Grin plastered like he’d found something greatly interesting to pass the time now. Catching up with a few strides and barely hiding his smirk.
“We are not talking about this.”
“Oh come now, can’t daddy buy a few things for his b-”
“OH MY GOD STOP.”
The resultant laughter rang in his burning-red ears.
This was not something he’d live down.
.
And he really wouldn’t, apparently, because as it turned out – pretty much everyone had thought that of them before they got to know them fully.
Frantic texts ensued.
[ WTF DO YOU MEAN U THOUHT I WAS HIS SUGAR BABY
His friend replied after a minute.
>> Dawg. Like. Pretty sure everryone kinda thought that – he’s always buying you stuff
[ THAT”S HIS LOVE LANGUAGE
>> Okay well. That’s also a sugar daddy love language
[ Ohhhhhhhmygodddddddddd
>> Lmao it’s fine man, not that big of adeal
[ YES IT IS, EW
[ DID YOU THINK IWAS LIKE,,,, DOING STUFF IN EXCHANGE????!?!? OHMYOGD
>> I mwan yeah kinda?? Till the house invite and seeing he has a regular ass apartment lmao
>> and u said u were ace so i figured it was like.. idfk, payment in baking maybe. Pictures??
[ are you deadass rn u thought i ws like. Discount onlyfands for him. r u serious.
>> Ok well not discount, since he’d be paying u probably the same amount
[ II AM NOT DISCUSSING LOGISTICS RN>.
>> lol
>> but seriously though, it’s fine. For the most part ppl mind their business anyway, that cashier was wild.
[ Ok but wtf do i do to stop it
>> uhhhhhhhhhhh idk man pay for yourself next time lol, but he does just kinda give those vibes
[ WHAT VIBESS OHYMOFDG
.
His partner was of no help of course. A grin at every opportunity. He didn’t tend to get grossed out or feel like shit too hard about the idea of sex, it just wasn’t his cup of tea. Now or ever. But he did always cringe at the idea of any of that together. Which his very-immature partner was capitalising on at the moment.
“Soooo..”
“No.”
“I didn’t even-”
“You thought it. Shut up.”
“I can’t help being ruggedly handsome.”
“Yes you can. You’re shaving next time.”
“Aw, but I like the mild fuzz. Also, I doubt that’ll stop the idea.”
“Do SOMETHING about this, oh my god.”
“Babe.”
He looked up at him finally. His partner – wonderful, still-caring-deep-down guy that he was – just giving him a simple smile, chin in palm, watching him stress about this.
Saying honestly for once.
“It’s okay, you know. I can say no next time, if it comes up again. You don’t have to listen to it.”
He looked away, exhaling.
It was uncomfortable at worst. They weren’t like that together.
That wasn’t what they were, and despite the fact that he was sure there were probably decent sugar.. couples? Cubes? – out there in the world, he didn’t personally like the idea that others were.. seeing the two of them as just transactional.
Temporary.
He got enough of that before they made it official. Heck, even after.
He felt his eyes on him more than heard his next, quieter, calming words.
“Hey.”
He looked up again, eventually. Eyes slowly locking with his.
“I can just get a tailor you know. I do still like buying you stuff – you look gorgeous every time.
And quite frankly, it’s never anyone’s business what we are. That’s always been true. Yeah?”
A smaller smile, eyes always just on him.
“It’s just us.”
And for some reason – or maybe, the most understandable reason in the world – he felt something inside finally relax.
It really was just the two of them.
.
“..You know my friend thought I was doing some sort of OnlyFans situation in exchange for your money though.”
“You’re so noisy.” You thrust harshly again and he lets out a pathetic whimper, yet you don’t let up. Hands trail from his waist to his chest, pulling him close to you while fondling his pecs. Thumbs go to his nipples and lightly circle them before flicking quickly, ending with a pinch and pull that makes the captain arch his head up and let out a groan. “You really like it, hm?” You’re really the one most into it, but he’s loving it too. “Already big, would be full of milk once I knock you up.” Shanks’s head is spinning. This dumb breeding kink between you two despite him being male. You give them another firm squeeze and he cums hard, your hands fondling through his orgasm. White covers his abdomen before leaking onto the bedsheets, letting out another weak spurt from you letting out your own seed.
Once Shanks’s head focuses enough to be coherent he notices you still fondling his chest.
“Jeez, give the things a break, will you?” You pinch one of his nipples and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You’re harsh to them, hun.”
“Just appreciating them. The massaging is good for milk production, right?”
“Pervert.” You scoff.
“Says the man who was riding me a week ago begging for a baby.” Shanks also gets way too lost in the moment.
“Ahh,” He snaps his fingers. “touché.” You pull out of him and he shivers at the feeling of liquid leaking from his ass. “You’re still the one always talking about it.”
“Yet you don’t stop me.” He gives you a cheeky smile and you both kiss.
_____________
Shanks itches at his chest through his shirt, it’s been feeling strange lately.
“What’re you doing?” Lucky Roux asks, setting down oatmeal in front of Shanks in the kitchen. The captain makes a displeased face. “You wanted something sweet and easy and now you’re staring at me like that.”
“Reminds me of when we had to really budget for food.” He grumbles, taking a bite of the oatmeal expecting the worst; but eyes twinkle. It’s chocolatey.
“(Y/n) told me to add it along with the almonds.” The redhead has always been partial to chocolate, eating bars of it with big bites in his childhood til his stomach hurt; yet never tiring of it. “Answer my question from before, Captain.”
“Hm.” He takes another bite. “It’s nothing much, my chest has been feeling weird lately.”
“…Your heart?” The large man looks nervous but his captain shakes his head.
“No, the flesh, not inside.” The chef relaxes, he won’t have to make a new diet for heartburn. “I think—nevermind.” He can’t tell Lucky that he thinks it’s because you’ve been massaging them too hard during sex. The chef slides the bowl of oatmeal away from Shanks. “Okay! It’s from the bedroom.”
“Oh.” He slides it back. “I don’t want to know anymore. Why’d you tell me?” Shanks almost falls for the bait but chooses to scarf down the oatmeal instead.
“I should tell you something else.” Lucky tilts his head. “I actually… no nevermind.” The captain turns around and leaves a laughing Lucky.
He stops outside of the door and presses at one of his pecs, he’ll let his mind wander to the chocolate oatmeal instead. It would’ve been nice to savor it more. While lost in the sadness of quick eating he feels a sudden squeeze to his chest. There’s only one pervert on this ship who would do this to a grown man. “Hello to you too.”
“I was going to say hi but you looked so out of it that I wanted to tease you a little.” You kiss your lover on the cheek and he chuckles. “How are you feeling? Was the chocolate good?”
“It was. If I wasn’t tired of oatmeal I might ask for that everyday.” Alas, his dislike for oatmeal has won over chocolate. Why would he care anyway? He could just have the chocolate alone.
“As long as you’re happy.” You rub your cheek against his and he rubs back, flinching when you squeeze his pec. You immediately pull away. “What happened!? Don’t tell me you’re hiding an injury-“
“No, no, I’m not. My chest has just been feeling weird lately.” You go to his front and tug down his shirt to examine both pecs. No bruises, irritation, or lumps. The fact that you fret over him like this makes him happy but he doesn’t like seeing you distressed. He pats your back. “I’m alright~ You’re worrying over nothing. They’re just sensitive from the ‘massage’ yesterday. It doesn’t hurt, just feels a little odd, that’s all.” You’re still worried but it really seems like everything is okay. Your experience in feeling your boyfriend’s chest would alert you to anything out of the ordinary.
“I guess I should lay off for a while.” The thought of not being able to touch your lover’s beautiful pecs is depressing, especially when he likes the contact. You can tell by his hesitant expression that he’ll find a way to be touchy-feely with you anyway. As you expected, Shanks gets closer to you and gently presses his body against your side.
“I’ll make up for it.” This might be torture. One hand goes to his waist and the other to his ass. Well.. “Hmm~” he’s got plenty of other parts to squeeze. The redhead smiles happily and rubs his face against you, he really enjoys any sort of touch.
_______________
However, it’s getting to be too much. You two have had sex a few times after that conversation, and it’s been great, but his pecs are feeling more and more off; bloated. He’s starting to get worried that he popped some sort of blood vessel but it doesn’t hurt, just very tender. It hasn’t gotten less tender with time either, just more sensitive.
Shanks sits on his bed, putting on a shirt that rubs against his nipples. He twitches from the contact.
“Fuck, did I get more sensitive from not getting touched?” He worries, considering you’ve been careful with him. He pokes at the tan skin through his shirt. Squishy. Bloated, tight. He starts to massage one,
Knock knock knock
then quickly pulls his hand away when someone knocks on the door.
“Shanks?” It’s you. “Are you okay? You didn’t come for breakfast immediately.” Oh. He looks at the clock on his wall and sees that he lost track of time. He’ll open the door for you.
“Sorry, I’m alright.” You look down at his chest. “Yeah?”
“They got bigger.” You would know as an expert.
“They did?” He looks down as he trusts your expertise.
“Shanks, maybe you should go to Hongo for this.” He hums in disapproving awkwardness. They really don’t hurt. They also feel really really sensitive, but you’re right here.
“Maybe instead you could help me?” Why would he bother the ship’s doctor with such a need?
“Wha-” He pulls you into his room and locks the door. “You can’t just-” He kisses you and his chest presses against your body, his tongue prying your mouth open to explore. The squish of the pecs you haven’t been able to enjoy, the needy tongue licking around your mouth; you’re giving in.
“I have a perfectly amazing lover to help and he doesn’t want to?” He pouts sadly and your heart stutters. Dammit, he’s distracting you and it’s working. You kiss him, backing him up slowly until he’s sat on the bed. Your hand instinctively goes to his chest and you grope it, he gasps and his back arches.
“Ah! I forgot to…” Your words trail off as you spot a wet patch on his shirt where his nipple is. You undo his shirt and pull it off his body quickly.
“Did you snap? It feels nice actually.” You grope again and a bead of white comes out. Shanks shivers from the sensation. “What are you doing…” It’s his turn for his words to trail off, he sees it.
Milk..?
You pinch gently and another bead comes out. An idea pops into your mind and you put your hand on his stomach.
“I don’t think this is from pregnancy.” He says that but pauses. Anything can happen in the New World.
The both of you quickly dress Shanks and run into the dining hall, you grabbing Hongo and slinging him over your shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Medical emergency.” Shanks states seriously and that switches on doctor mode for the blonde.
He’s placed into the medical office and gets his tools.
“What is it? Is it your chest? I told you something might be off and you chose to ignore me-”
“I might be pregnant.”
….
“what.”
“Ah, I’m.. uh..” Shanks realizes how ridiculous he sounds and gets nervous on how to explain such a thing.
“He’s producing milk.” You answer for him. Good save. Hongo motions for Shanks to sit down.
“You don’t have a womb, Captain.” He pulls out pregnancy tests. “But we can test anyway.” Both of you feel calmer that this is taken seriously.
The redhead lays down and undresses so Hongo can feel for any new organ that may have appeared.
“I don’t feel anything new, nor bumps anywhere else that would suggest a tumor.” He gently squeezes his chest to leak milk, feeling and sniffing. “This is definitely breast milk, though.” A few more tests are done and Hongo takes blood from your lover, then does a urine test. “The blood test will take a day, but the urine test…” He checks the results. “Negative.” The both of you sigh in relief.
Hongo did a few imaging tests, no tumors. Shanks starts itching at his chest again.
“Stop that.” Hongo can hear it without looking.
“It’s uncomfortable.”
“They’re full of milk, I’m not surprised.” The imaging tests also showed a high amount of milk stored in the chest. “My worry is that you’re producing enough to cause discomfort, and it could get clogged..” Hongo mumbles, both you and Shanks getting nervous. “Once I’m done with the blood test I’ll make medicine for you. For now.. you’ll have to empty them yourself.” Shanks glances at you. “You know, the likely cause of this is too much prolactin from excessive stimulation.” Oops. “So don’t use excessive force or stimulation while emptying the-”
_________
“Hnn~” You massage Shanks’s waist, kissing him deeply while he makes little pants.
“You’re still loud.” It’s like he just loves the action of making noise. You pull him closer to you while undressing him, his own hand tugging off your shirt. “I’m not supposed to be rough with you.”
“No fun.” He winks, pulling away. Having this taken seriously is too stressful for him. “Then go ahead.” He positions his chest outwards and you stare, your hand trembling as you reach out. You gently cup one and he bites his lip, you squeeze harder and he lets out a whine as milk comes out.
‘He’s doing this on purpose.’ You know, and that thought is only solidified when you gently pinch and pull. Milk squirts out more into your hand and Shanks arches his back with a pornographic moan. “Stop.”
“I can’t help that it feels good.” Yeah he may be exaggerating the noises but it does feel good, and it’s honestly very relieving having this come out.
“It looks like it’s coming out properly.” You move to wipe your hand and grab a large container to store it but when you turn back there’s a frown on Shanks’s face. “What?”
“It feels cold having you just put what I’m making in a container, are you going to throw it out? After my body’s effort?”
“Did you expect me to drink it?”
“...Well it’s not like there’s a baby to.” You’re losing control. He actually looks somewhat distressed. The perverted nature of your breeding kink, your love lactating like he’s pregnant, the fact that it feels good, and the sadness he feels over being treated like something gross. You can’t let him stay like this. You lean in and kiss him, gently and lovingly. His hand hovers over your shoulder before resting on it and kissing back. You pull back and your kisses trail down.
“Were you getting insecure?” You gently kiss one of his nipples and Shanks’s breath hitches.
“Slightly, I wouldn’t actually blame you for not wanting to.” You hum and lock your lips around the nub and gently suck. Milk floods into your mouth, pent up from the time stuck inside his chest. Your love shivers above you, grunting in both relief and pleasure. After it stops coming out easily you switch to the other and do the same. You pull back and drink.
“Yum.”
“Pervert.” He mumbles and you kiss him. It feels better, not so bloated anymore. You continue to suck on each one, there’s a lot more than you thought. While this is happening a jolt of pleasure comes from your dick, your boyfriend is grinding against you. “Hey, we’re already here.”
“Was this your plan from the start?”
“No, but it was a possibility.” Shanks undresses himself and lays down, making a small huff when lifting his hips up. “There’s no way you could resist me anyway, right?” He’s begun to pant, not actually sure while using his fingers to spread himself open.
“We’re not supposed to.” You grumble despite undressing with a boner as well. You put the tip to his entrance and he bites his lip, gasping when you thrust inside all at once. Warm, wet, tight but welcoming at the same time. Shanks pants harder but you start to thrust.
“Wait-“ You interrupt him with a harsh thrust.
“Don’t ‘wait’ me when you’ve been seducing me this entire time. If you really want me to wait then push me off, hm?” You lean forward in front of his face, he grips the back of your head into a kiss; then to his chest. They’re softer than usual, warm and full with puffy nipples that are so easy to latch your lips onto. The perfect milk maker, like he’s making more milk the more you drink. Making more with each thrust. “You really would make a perfect mother.” He flinches at your words, pulsing around you. “Why don’t I make you one, right now? You’re already lactating. If I fuck my cum into you over and over then maybe you really will get pregnant.” You bite one of his nipples softly and play with the other to his delight.
“Your words are insane.” Shanks managed to get out, but locks his legs around you with a smile. “Go ahead and breed me then.” You grip his waist tightly and pull him back into your thrusts. His eyes unfocus while widening. “c-cumming, cumming.” The redhead mumbles before letting out a moan, cumming over himself. So pretty, so yours as his lewd walls squeeze your dick in pulses with the throbbing of his own cock letting out cum onto himself. The taste of milk lingers on your tongue, pleasure is building up at the sight. You’re getting him pregnant, your love. Your first attempt for today.
“Here’s your first load then.” You pull him flush against your hips and fill him, feeling the stickiness lightly coat his insides; it’ll be much thicker by the end of this.
You pause for a moment before moving him onto his front, ass up, then plunge into him again. Oops. You’re too turned on to stop right now.
Your boyfriend stuffs his face into the pillow with a groan, in this position you can thrust perfectly onto his prostate, his mind is going numb while he pushes back against you. What’s more, you can glance to see those breasts rubbing against the mattress every time you move. The only reason he hasn’t came again is because he just has. Enjoy the view.
You adjust his hips more lifted to spread his ass open with your palms.
In and out.
Sheath and unsheath.
Watching the way you sink into him over and over. How he takes you so perfectly, how much his body wants to be bred. You grip onto one of his asscheeks, have the hormones made these softer as well? He suddenly shivers and you flinch as his insides tighten around you to cum again. “I haven’t gotten to savor this position yet, love.”
“Sorry.” He muffles into the pillow before flopping onto his side to catch his breath. You notice wet spots where his nipples were.
“What a waste of your milk.” You rub the spots, then gently rub his chest; they feel fuller already. At this point your stomach is going to burst before they can finish producing. You kiss his cheek and put him back onto his back into a mating press, perfect for this. “What a fitting position. My seed can go as deep as possible and stay inside.” You give a few shallow thrusts.
“hurry up then..” His heel gently hits your shoulder. Impatient. You lean down and kiss him, biting his lip from his brattiness. Slow, slow thrusts. “Don’t do this to me.” The redhead complains before trying to lift his hips up to meet yours. You pull away and he throws his head back with a huff.
“I promised to breed you but I can take my time to do it.”
“..Please.”
“Hm?” You give a single hard thrust.
“Fuck me, breed me, please please. I want your babies so- oh~!” You lean down and start to thrust earnestly. “Yes! Like that!♡” He’s cute when he tries to be bratty to keep control, but it’s nice to have him let go. His chest starts to move strongly with each thrust like proper tits. They’re begging to be milked again but you’ll leave them for a while to fuck him properly. You still want to enjoy fucking jizz into his womb. Your cum. That pleasure builds up quicker with the desperation to breed your desperate lover. Fucking him, breeding him. Slamming into his hole over and over before it all comes out.
Filling him again.
Moments pass with your second load adding another layer dripping down deeper into his abdomen. “Feels weird, feels weird.” His body squirms with the feeling and he orgasms with milk dripping from him with each throb.
Huff
Huff
“How much are you gonna end up making!?” You know his body can be lewd, and he’s got tons of stamina and health despite his age; but is he seriously making this much? It could be your fault for telling him over and over you’re getting him pregnant, though… hm. Placebo.
You lift him up onto your lap and rummage around for the container. “Hold this.” He grabs onto the large glass and you hold his breasts with your dick still to the hilt inside of him. You look at his face and he notices, locking eyes with you and giving you a wobbly grin. You massage them lightly and he braces before you grip them and aim into the container, milk going inside.
“I feel a little cow-like, sweetheart.” He says while trembling. You rub the tips of his nipples and shallowly thrust into him.
“What kind of cow is having sex with his boyfriend while getting milked?” His legs spread instinctively, leaning forward and struggling to grip onto the container. “Don’t drop your hard work.” Your shaft is pressed against his sweet spot, teasing it with shallow thrusts; keeping his mind fuzzy while getting emptied. You’re cruel, or maybe just horny, because your fingers go to the tips and tease them every so often; but he’s oh so into it. It’s obvious, the way he occasionally twitches around your cock, the way he lightly bounces onto it. You squeeze and pull, press and flick, it almost feels like you’re done. You’re about to finish too.
Spurt
He suddenly squeezes around you, cumming while letting the last of the milk release from his tits. It filled the gallon, this is really impressive. The sudden squeeze and sight has you shivering, not finishing as hard but it’s not hard to finish with Shanks.
Crack
The container cracks where he’s gripping it.
“Ah, I squeezed it too hard while cumming.” Panic sets in, you pull out to rummage around. There are multiple containers to switch to. They’re supposed to be used to empty his breasts over time but this works too. Milk saved. “You’re really passionate about this.” You hold the container out to him, slowly tilting a little into his mouth. “Mm. Actually pretty good. I’ve got a sweet tooth though so I’m pretty biased along with it being my milk.” Wow he really did not hesitate to try it.
“I drank a lot already so I think I’m gonna be done for today.”
“Y- Dammit.”
“What?”
“I was about to say ‘Yeah and we should save some for the baby.’” Placebo effect. Looks like his milk isn’t gonna go away soon even with the medicine and your “help”. Or is this help going to make it take longer…
First time I've used a non-character image for a banner but I couldn't find any ones that I felt comfortable using like this. I did add little hearts to censor though. Dont know if thats uh, actually enough. I just searched up male lactation on a website and picked an image from a manga while skimming it. Someone tell me if my thing suddenly doesn't get shown in the tags. This was pretty dirty but I still wanted it to be lovey right? I like it when things are lovey.. i have the gentle heart of a maiden. Also I'm trying a bit of a new formatting style.
Thinking about reader exclusively referring to ghost as "the missus"...
Really, it started as a joke. A little teasing jab at ghost for always being so soft with you, more affection than malice when you chose the title.
Offered anonymity, too. When other soldiers were talking about their sweet things at home, you could slip right in with "the missus is the same with me. Clinging to me all the time." Instead of mentioning lieutenant riley and having to explain why you, as a sergeant, are dating ghost.
That doesn't stop the fact ghost blushes bright red when you casually comment "the missus loves it when I'm big spoon. Settles her down right quick." At the breakfast table. Or when you snort at prices usual complaint about his wife and add "my darling gifts me stuff too. It's so cute, her little crafts, keeps the missus occipied."
Ghost should be embarrassed by it. He's a 6 foot fuck-around giant of a man who's killed more people than he cares to count. His skin is rough with callouses and scars and no one would ever describe him as pretty.
Except....except you do. You call ghost your "pretty little missus." And you...mean it?
It makes ghosts stomach flutter in a weird way. He likes being your missus. The idea that he even could be something soft and tucked away from war like all the other soldiers wives are.
Ghost makes eggs for you in the morning the same as he always does, but smiles to himself about acting like your missus. He cuddles you in bed, he tries to bake you cookies. He's domestic and soft and everything simon has never been allowed to be.
When you call him "missus" ghost feels...seen. loved. It's...nice.
Warnings: 18+, some sexual content (but it's asexual friendly)
Okay, let's be honest, this guy's probably internally homophobic (he's insecure about a lot of things), so it might take some convincing for him to actually admit that he likes you.
But once he does, I think he realizes it isn't as bad and scary as he thought and he soon gets over it, even though he still doesn't like being super touchy with you around other people. He usually doesn't like for people to know you two are together.
However, if someone starts getting flirty with you, his jealousy and possessiveness gets the better of him and he can't help but put an arm around you and give the other person a glare that will haunt them for years to come, if not forever.
At first, he's pretty reserved and not super affectionate towards you, but with time, he gets more comfortable and eventually he can't keep himself off you when you're alone. He always wants to touch you in some way, whether you're cuddled up together or just holding hands. He's impossibly nonchalant about it, though, and you giggle at him sometimes, which earns you a glare.
He's hard-headed and it takes forever for you to finally convince him that you actually care about him. At first, you don't realize how insecure he is and you don't expect it because of how confident he acts. Plus, he doesn't really ask for validation, he just sulks, thinking you're playing some game by being with him. Eventually, you realize how insecure he is and from then on you make sure to tell and show him how much you care to prevent him from feeling that way again. Still, there are days where he feels like there's no way you could love him and you have to go to great lengths to assure him that you do.
If you're asexual or abstain from sex for another reason, he's totally okay with that and respects you, but you might have to put in more work to make him feel loved.
Sex is one way that he can really feel connected to you and that he can actually see how much you care about him. However, it's a slippery slope, because sometimes if he feels like you're looking at him too much, he freaks out and feels ugly. You're constantly assuring him that he's crazy hot and the most beautiful demon you've ever seen (even though you've only ever seen one). Sometimes, body worship will set him off like that, but sometimes it actually makes him feel better about himself and gets him going. He absolutely loves praise, but he'll never admit to it. If you're topping and you call him a good boy, he might cum on the spot.
He's terrified of hurting you, which is also something that surprises you at first because of how rough of a friend he was before you two got together (always slapping your back way too hard and bruising your knuckles when he fist-bumped you after a good mission).
Any time you cuddle, you notice that he never touches you with his stone hand, and you tell him that it's okay and that you trust him not to hurt you.
It takes forever to convince him to do anything sexual, not because he didn't want to, but because of how insecure he is and because of how afraid he is that he'll do something to hurt you (especially with that huge cock we all know he has). You definitely have to start out small and work up to bigger things and you have to prove to him that you really do trust him not to harm you. He's afraid of losing control, but you know that he would never really hurt you and maybe you like a little pain (?)
If you're into receiving bdsm, it definitely takes lifetimes to convince him to try it out, but he would probably eventually come to like it. If you like it the other way around, he'd be hesitant, but he would definitely try it and I think he would like it.
If you smoke, you two share a cigar while you're cuddling and he tries to hog it, saying they're not good for you. Of course, you glare at him, snatch the cigar, and say they're not good for him either before taking a puff. He secretly loves seeing you smoke his cigars.
He is so incredibly protective of you no matter what the circumstances. If you go on missions, you will not be leaving his side the whole time. The thought of losing you, or even just you getting hurt absolutely terrifies him and he's doing anything he can to prevent those things. It gets to be a little much sometimes and occasionally you'll have arguments about how you can protect yourself, but you know he'll never stop protecting you no matter what. Plus, even if it annoys you and makes you feel like you're getting princess treatment when you're a perfectly capable guy, you think it's sweet and deep down, you love it.
I might do a second part, what do you think? There's literally no Hellboy content on here (or anywhere), especially for guys. I got y'all, though.
The previous ask got me thinking about könig with someone bigger in size than him.... like absolutely monstrously big (either metaphorically or literally....) like being manhandled and roughed up and overpowered. Head pushed on the mattress, whining and crying while he's getting used like a toy....
IM GOING FEREEEELLLLLL
Oh my God monster reader....
Noncon!! Monster!reader, cry baby König, NSFW, too big reader :(, very mean monster reader.
I kind of went off the rails with this, so I hope you enjoy it still! Not really proof read or spelt correctly, this has been sitting in my drafts since it was sent in..
König found you in an abandoned lab (Cliche, I know) . He got separated from his team and went by himself to finish the mission. He went down a long hall, descended down into a basement that wasn't on the map, and rammed into a heavy metal door until his busted open. Dust filled the air around him, as if it hadn't been open in months, hell, maybe even years... There were machines, computers, tables with glasses and test tubes. Empty cages started to appear further down, and the lights also got dimmer. He steps into a puddle on the floor, dark red. There's more the further he goes, bones showing up scattered around.. Then there's one big cage at the very end, someone - something sleeping. Its fucking huge, skin rough with patches of scales and spikes. the things hands are.. almost human, if it's nails weren't as thick as a bear's. Konig steps closer, keeping quiet as to not wake him.. this must be what they were sent to exterminate... fuck- they made it sound like some kind of radioactive bug, not a damn fairy tail beast.... He steps, something cracks. an old bone that has been chewed on for ages. the beast stirs, groaning as it's head lifts, looking around until it spots him. It's pupils go wide, covering its bright iris.. It sits up, then stands... König feels goosebumps cover his arms, body going rigid. it looks him over, assessing him like he's prey. Like he's the biggest meal it's ever seen. That wouldn't be far from the truth, he'd have to assume...
It's claws cut through the material of his pants, digging into his thigh until skin rips and blood covers its hand, dragging him back to his previous position. The hand leaves his leg and grabs his neck, pinning him to the ground. He doesn't know what's worse, dying, or having to take that... thing between it's legs. It big, tip already dripping with each twitch. It's head dups down, and the long, rough tongue swipes over the gash on his thigh, something deep in its chest rumbling with satisfaction. He tries to squirm away but the hand around his neck and the slight scrape of his claws is warning enough... It continues to lap up his blood until its nearly clean, free hand ripping through his belt, tearing off his jeans. His hand shoots down to stop it, but he's silences by the grip around his throat tightening, cutting of his air... His boxers are shred next, tongue wrapping around his cock, embarrassingly hard despite himself... His face turns red, almost purple before the monster let's go, letting him gasp and cough. The beast drops his cock, tongue instead finding his hole, pushing into it painfully quick. He wishes he could stop the cry that leaves his lips, but it's too late. tears follow aa the tongue thrusts in and out of his hole... he's never been used like this before.. His legs kick weakly at the monster, trying to push him away, but it only earns him a growl, tongue leaving his ass, only to feel something much bigger prod at his rim. too big. too thick, too long to fit. It'd be unrealistic to even try- He starts to move again, flailing, kicking, even resorts to biting. it only makes the beast angrier, more impatient. He's flipped over, a hand forcing his head against the ground when he tries to crawl away. He sobs when the monster pushes in, cock twitching against his rim, leaving him no time to adjust. it feels like he's being ripped in half, and he's sure he his, literally. The monsters free hand grabs his hips, thrusting the rest of the way in. He can't hold himself up, going slack with trembling thighs, sobbing against the dirty floor, only getting louder as it draws back, thrusting back in too hard. he claws at the ground, shaking, or trying to shake his head. "Bitte- Bitte- Nein, Nein!"
the hand moves to the back of his neck, letting konig peer over his shoulder with teary eyes, soft blues puffy and red, matching his abused hole. The monster fucking into his quick and hard, cock reaching so deep inside of him he's worried it's *actually* rearranging his guts. It leans down and licks the tears from his cheek, making a noise similar to shushing as he cries louder. the hand leaves his neck to shove two fingers into his mouth, trying to muffle his screams. It starts to rut into him harder, chuffing against his neck, cock twitching inside if him before hot, thick cum fills him. It comes in waves, whenever he thinks it's done, more comes out. The monster keeps him against the ground, holding him close and making him take it.. He doesn't have the energy to move, to kick, to try and squirm away. He's tired, and when that purring like noise starts, he can't help the way his lashes flutter and eyes fall shut...
Hihi can I request some sweet Tooth-rotting smut with loki x top dom male reader? Maybe with some overstim and breeding kink....
indeed indeed!! (and you've activated my trap card - i have very strong, but not terribly extensive, opinions about loki's gender, but the long and the thick of it is, i exclusively refer to loki with they/them. it just feels so right.)
loki laufeyson x masc reader
cw: vague timeline but definitely before the show, kinks as mentioned above, established relationship
sharp words from silver tongues only mean so much when yours is licking into their asshole. when your fingers press at that sensitive rim. careful in your teasing not to irritate ridges tender and puffy from relentlessly friction.
it was a break of sorts. as much as raised hips arched down into pinched shoulders allowed. as much as your mouth allowed. more a break for you, you suppose.
loki is many things and you wouldn't consider being hard to please one of them. but the process of pleasing them could be strenuous, at times. because for as much as they like to play with and taunt others. loki gets just as much satisfaction out of receiving it. from your hands they do.
it's painful. uncomfortable. but there is a pleasure in how your hand tightens around the base of their dick holding it until the momentum's gone, in complaining about it just moments after they begged for it. or how everything stops. how you'll pull away just before loki can claim release. sometimes that's enough to keep them on the edge. to keep them from going over.
wasn't earlier.
not when you had them stretched around you, telling them how pretty they looked. how loki would be impossibly prettier carrying your child. how every low, grumbling moan went straight to your dick, all cementing how much you needed to breed them. which is such a barbarous thing to say, loki used to think. loki hadn't expected a midguardian to say to them, the first you'd said it.
loki hated it then.
didn't appreciate how lowly you thought of them. didn't believe you when you said it wasn't to degrade them. it wasn't a humiliation ritual, or anything to strip them of their honor and pride. what's left of it.
it was later. not terribly long after, they think, but far too long ago from this moment, to really say. later, when you fell into something normal, something consistent, when you had them for a few days out of the month. when loki would show up on your doorstep with a different face, only dropping the spell as soon as your door was shut. during that period, after a shower that should have been their's, but you found your way into, anyway.
when you'd pulled loki in front of you, tracing the soft lines surrounding lean muscle. they're no thor, but they're agile. lithe. pretty. they looked like a prince should. even stripped bare, loki is a regal picture. an elegant one. and that light trace up their side became a hand laid on their stomach and a kiss to their shoulder.
and it was different.
the little throwaway, "if you ever change your mind on kids," that was meant to be light, just half a joke you never really finished, felt heavier. carried something softer than a need for control. something kinder, much more caring than dominating.
they find that a lot with you. it's there after loki's dick, desperate to be anything but soft, tries dribbling out another orgasm. because you don't tell them to go for another. you don't demand it. it's more of a suggestion, running your hand down their back to accompany the; "looks like you still got a bit left in you."
"does it?" it's muffled.
they aren't hard to move.
takes a light push on their hip and they're pliant enough to follow. fucked out enough to lack a quip about it, but not enough to push you away. because they don't. once they're on their back, loki pulls you closer. their hand fumbles for your shoulder, gripping at your chest until they get you closer. manage to catch you by the mouth so you can swallow down their shuttering breath as you sink in again.
they jump at the initial intrusion, when your tip pressed back against slightly swollen muscle. tension builds, in their legs and abdomen with the slick drive of your dick. you keep a slow grind, barely tempered energy slapping against loki's thighs.
"seems you've have more than a little left yourself, love"
and you didn't. hadn't a few moments ago. it's just them, really. that's just their effect on you.
if you weren't so deep, in them. with them, maybe you could've mustered something other than, "sorry."
"no," it's abrupt as it is quiet, "it's, i…" loki trails off. letting their legs stretch as best they can around your hips, trying to force you closer, harsher. slowly letting up, when your voice spills out. "are you sure?"
"you'd have me beg?" stained, it's the closest you'll get to a smart comment in this moment.
you take it as the permission it is, keeping the roll of your hips slow, but letting that vigor pour out in the strength of your hips against their ass and thighs. leaving your thrusts a tad erratic and every bit as needy for them as you are.
that grip on your shoulder's doesn't leave. doesn't loosen, just gets needier. holding you close, desperately trying to keep your lips to loki's. "breed me, darling."
Living with Graves is hell because everything he does, he does with the intention of getting you hard.
He cooks with this cute little apron and crooked glasses, nothing else underneath.
Bending over every surface when he cleans. The dishes do NOT require his tits in the sink. But if you're passing by then he's making sure his ass is the first thing you see.
Playing pool always has his spine curves, chest flat against the table. Just to make sure he gets the shot perfect, right?
He watched TV or reads a book on the couch with his legs spread wide and pretty white panties that hide not a damn thing.
He's at least modest outside. Tending to his garden in the tiniest shorts and the tightest tank top, making sure to get all dirty so he has an excuse to strip once he gets inside.
He doesn't need glasses, just likes the look of them. Likes to wear them around the house, still stained with your cum from when he sucked you off. Doesn't let you cum in his mouth because he likes when you make a mess of his face.
All this to swat your hands away when you try and catch a feel. Spends the entire day teasing you. Still makes you wait until the suns down.
He happily followed you home. Didn't need drugs or drinks.
You didnt have to manhandle him into the house, becasue he's already on your couch,
The only thing he put up a fight about was the mask, but even then, he reluctantly let's you take it off. It's only fair his future husband knows his face.
You dont have to worry about him running off, either. Turn your back, and he's wandering off into the kitchen, starting up some stew to feed you proper.
In bed he lays on the edge, stiff and cold, but if you're gentle enough, easing him into your arms, he'll sigh and eventually relax in your hold, drifting to sleep faster than he ever has.
Kidnapper reader putting nikto in traditional housewife dresses.... babydolls for bedtime....putting a chastity cage on him and calling his dick clit.... - 🦇
I've still got your Makarov ask in my drafts, promise I didn't ignore it,
He would let you. The only argument is him "warning" that he won't look good. It isn't insecurity. He's just sure. Convinced, like it's a fact, that his face and body are ugly and always will be.
You of course ignore his words, picking out something pretty, white and babypink, frilly with bows. The pink matching the color of his fleshy, marred scars and burns.
The charity cage isn't necessary. He can't get it up anyways, no need to lock it up.
Putting it in a thong, however, and calling it a clit? That makes more sense.
He'll complain about the uncomfortable feeling of the thong against his balls, so you do him a favor and have him completely bare under instead.
We learn to save the dresses for special occasions, though. After the third dress he ruins, covered in blood with some poor animal slung over his shoulder. Dinner for his husband.
His usual daytime outfit now consists of him bare under a pretty pink and white apron. He'll put on panties if he goes out to hunt. Its not like anyone else if going to see, so far out in the wild, just to ensure nobody would find him
Hey sorry if this is awkward or misunderstood but regarding your question about whether someone has their requests open cloudyzeusy and yvesainted have them open last I checked🌚
And as a little shit, it is his duty to annoy the rest of his team. One way he does that, is jump scares.
He has no problem blending in or sneaking around, the very nature of his ability to be silent lends itself to scaring people.
The first time was honestly an accident. He had woken up in the middle of the night, some nightmare that he wanted to forget quickly, and decided to go to the kitchen for some water. As he slid into the kitchen, though, he saw Johnny’s butt sticking out from the open fridge. The fridge light illuminated the dark space, and he could faintly hear him humming a song and swaying his hips just a little as he rummaged through.
“Late night snack, Johnny?”
Simon is shocked by the yelp that leaves him, followed quickly by a “fuck!” as Johnny jerks up, smacking his head on the shelf in the fridge.
“Fuuuuckin’ Christ, man, you cannae sneak up on a guy like that.” He complains, rubbing his head as he turns around to face Simon.
Simon can’t help but be extremely amused by the situation, trying for Johnny’s sake to stop his snickers, “swear I didn’t mean to, Johnny…” his hands come up in surrender, “maybe you should work on your awareness.”
Johnny’s mouth opens, an incredulous guffaw leaves him, “work on my—Simon! You appeared outta no where!”
Simon goes to refute but is interrupted by the irritated tone of their captain.
“What in the bloody hell is going on in here.” He’s in his boxers and an old t-shirt, clearly having been disturbed by their noise (Johnny’s girlish scream) and came to investigate.
They grimace and look at each other for a moment before looking back to John. “Sorry, cap…”
“Damn right…” he shakes his head, stumbling back down the hall.
They both sit in silence for a minute before snorting and moving to leave the kitchen.
“G’night.” Johnny waves with his back turned.
“Night, Johnny.”
As he goes back to his room, Simon doesn’t even realize how far out of his head the nightmare is.
He thinks about it later, how fun it was to see his normally steely teammate so shocked…he’d like to see that again. So, like a menace, he starts doing it more often. And not only to Johnny.
He likes to stand behind the door to the meeting room so when John closes the door he’s just there, standing in the corner.
He’s gotten Price to toss the files into the air a couple times…he hopes to one day get a scream.
“Bloody—hell, Lieutenant…outta buy you a bell.” He shakes his head and tries to move on fast to draw attention away from the large flinch Simon managed to garner.
“He’s been standing there for 10 minutes, sir.” Gaz rats him out.
Simon side-eyes him. “Narc.”
You’d think John would anticipate it by now, but he falls for it pretty consistently. It’s probably because Simon likes to lull him into a false sense of security by skipping it a couple weeks in a row. He has a system.
Gaz is his next target.
He decides to fuck with him a little more thanks to ratting out his wait time to John. So, when he knows Kyle is coming back to his room late one day, he decides to break in and stand in the corner…in the dark…and wait for him to come back. Like a normal person.
He stands there for a while, stick still in the dark until the tell-tale sound of the doorknob turning alerts him to Kyle’s arrival.
He shuffles in unassuming, flicking on the lights and toeing off his boots with a sigh. He just barely closes the door behind him when he finally looks up to see Simon looming in the corner. He jumps, keys clattering against the wall as they fly from his hand.
“What the fuck, Simon!”
“…wanted to wish you a good night, Kyle.”
He looks at him incredulously before whisper-yelling back, probably to avoid disturbing the captain, “and you couldn’t have done that anywhere else?”
He looks to the side and then back, “good night, Kyle.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sucks in a breath, “yeah…yeah good night, Simon.” He moves out of the way for Simon to go past.
“Scare ya later.” Is his final goodbye.
“Please don’t…” Kyle whispers after he’s already gone.
He's an expert in the art of bringing a girl home from the bar, putting his mouth to use before his balls are slapping off of her arse, and then she's out the door.
Long ago, did he master the art of deflection when swarmed with "Why don't we go out sometime?" or "Maybe we could see each other again?" type questions. He isn't looking for a relationship; he wants to get his hole and see them gone.
It's sleazy, but it works for him.
He's slept with every kind of lassie, wee or big, shy or downright nasty and no matter the woman, he'll have his fill.
So, it bewilders him when he's letting the last shot of tequila, thanks Gaz, settle against the various Jack and Cokes in his system, and the person he can't tear his gaze from is none other than Captain John fucking Price.
There's nothing distinctly effeminate about the man.
He's rugged. Burly.
His voice deepens as he swats at Nikolai's arm and insists that the man is misremembering a shared tale. His arm flexes when someone walking by catches him with a stray elbow, and he can see the man mouth the word cunt from across the room.
He's hairy, dark brown hair dusted over his arms and a beard that would scratch up someone's inner thighs if he truly let his mind wander. He's got a decent arse, probably has to jump to get jeans over it. A fucking thick cock too if the stolen glance Johnny caught in the men's room isnanything to go by. He was curious, sue him.
But he's a man.
And God, does Johnny want him.
Wants to hear the captain bark an order in his ear as he's dragging a dry, calloused hand over Johnny's cock, on the fine line between painful and painfully good. Wants to feel himself split open as the man bottoms out, just a little too rough in a way that he'll feel for days after.
Besides the obvious problem, Johnny's heterosexuality, there's Nikolai.
It's not much of a secret that the two share a bed, and perhaps a life.
Nikolai's friendly, always willing to offer pointless conversation, a good spar that can land even Simon on his back, a clap on the shoulder that's just a touch too heavy.
He wonders which of them prefers to take the reins in the bedroom. If they're gentle and soft, or if someone walks away with scratches running down their back and purple bruises blooming on their hips.
How they'd take to a third?
Johnny has to physically shake his head to rid himself of the thought, stumbling out into the carress of the night winds and pleading with his hands to cooperate as he tries to light a fag.
He's a straight man. Grade A heterosexual male. He likes women; he's only ever liked women. The way their tits bounce when they walk down stairs. Tight denim stretched across their arses. The creases around their eyes when they call him sunshine.
Fuck.
Through the drunken haze of his mind, a single thought tumbles into his grasp. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore.
Autistic Reed Richards (2025 movie) x Autistic male reader? With reader being sorta intimidating (tall/big and not talkative) to others but to reed he's basically just a big puppy.... hope I'm making sense 😭
Author's Note: I haven't seen the new movie, so I apologize if Reed's personality is a bit off shdksjdk
Warnings: male reader, autism 4 autism, uuuuhh yeah that's it 🤙
• Reed is a bit protective when it comes to you. He doesn't get why you don't have other friends, or why some people act different when you're around, but he isn't a fan of it
• Loves when you "help" him with big projects and scientific ramble sessions (you're not as smart as he is, but you listen and like to hand him tools, and he's forever grateful for that 🙏)
• He doesn't need you to understand the nerdy jargon that comes out of him, he just likes for you to hang out and nod along
• (If you aren't big on physical affection) Reed adores the other ways you show your love. Each small act of affection melts his heart, and he makes sure to save every gift you give/make him
• (If you are rather physically affectionate) He comes to enjoy the subtle ways you touch him while you're together; a hand resting atop his while you talk, absentmindedly fixing a tuft of hair that sticks out, random hugs, spontaneous kisses wherever you can reach, etc etc
• Knows that you don't like/have difficulty speaking, so he offers to do it for you, if you want. Like when you order food or in social gatherings
• ⬆️ plus he genuinely does his best to pay attention if and when you do say something
• Since you're taller than him, you tend to be the big spoon (and Reed has never slept better than when he's curled up in your arms)
• He actually likes you being bigger in general. Bonus points when you want to do things that the smaller person might normally do (sit in his lap, be the little spoon on occasion, sit on the tables and counters while you're together)
• Also thinks it's sweet when you grab things on high shelves for him, even though he could just stretch an arm and grab it himself :P
• Accidentally petted your head once when he was a little delirious from a late night spent in his lab… it was kinda awkward, but now he wants to do it again because your confused expression and laugh made his heart flutter
• You should totally pet him back as revenge — watch his brain short circuit and a blush sneak onto his cheeks 😌
• It takes a bit of effort, but if you can rope Reed into partaking in your special interest somehow (if applicable), it will honestly deepen your relationship. Even if he ends up not enjoying or fully understanding it, he realizes that you wanted to share something personal and special with him
• It's nice to have a partner that gets you. Gets the brain weirdness, the awkwardness, the frustration of it all sometimes, and still chooses to love you for every bit of it
Can I request alexei x male topdom reader? Just smut and fluff.... maybe with reader being like bigger/taller than alexei..... which alexei is obsessed with bc reader can manhandle him easily..... MAYBE WITH SOME AGE GAP TOO.... obvs both are adults just with reader being noticeably younger than alexei like 30s or something..... I HOPE THIS IS ISN'T TOO MUCH I'LL SEE MYSELF OUT NOW 🧍
no need to see yourself out!! tysm for requesting! sorry it took so long - i rewrote this a few times and keep going back and forth on whether or not i like it. i tried keeping in character, but im not consistently confident in that. im posting it bc i like it in this moment, bc i really like how it came out rn, but that might change in like 20 minutes and i still might re-edit/fuck with it later
hopefully you do too! if not let me know, and i can try my hand at it again :P
alexei shostakov x (mutant) masc reader
cw: post thunderbolts but pre-post credits scene, readers a mutant/specific abilities unspecified but it's why your fucking huge, fluff, smut, rough sex, gay sex (m/m), established relationship
you're blunt.
if he had to pick one thing, that's alexei's favorite. about you. from the head of your dick to each word out of your mouth. you're blunt.
harsh. that'd be another good word to describe you. another thing he likes. that's how all this started. with your grip in his beard, and your voice quiet, almost gentle. almost. "i like you. do you like men, alexei?"
he didn't.
but he liked that.
so alexei said, "i could."
it's that memory that keeps you on his couch, while he rambles about something you don't care about. you don't mind the cardigan on him either, though. your cardigan, mind you. it looks bigger on him since he's started training more consistently. makes most of your clothes look bigger on him, which he loves.
because alexei's naturally a big dude. undeniably. you just happen to be bigger. a mutant. you're not one the pretty hero ones, though. you didn't get the good kind of mutation, if there is such a thing. just the kind that makes you built like shit brick house and about as durable as a vibranium.
so a freak of nature, legally. alexei laughed when you put it like that. he disagreed. said you were "like me. built for glory."
it was easy enough to believe then, spent and sated after folding the old bastard like dirty laundry. half-hard and frustrated, your other head struggles to think of other reasons you try to make it out to his place (the townhouse in d.c., always. because despite his best efforts you will not come to the tower) when he calls. because alexei calls you for a large range of things. it mostly boils down to this, though: he likes your company, he's not shy about saying it. and he's not picky about how time is spent with you.
which is an oddly relaxed mentality from the least relaxed man you've ever met. alexei's, like, at least seventy, which you don't love thinking about, but he never fucking quits.
alexei is always up to something.
he's up to something now. has some grand idea. a vision of furthering his image as a great hero. something that will show yelena as every bit the avenger he sees her as (and by proxy make the rest of the thunderbolts look good but that is decidedly less important to him). a scheme to show that you're a hero, too. something that'll bring you into his world, let him have you all the time. some plan that does all of that. a plan that you can't be bothered to listen to this horny.
it'd be endearing any other night.
probably.
and sure, maybe coming over with the expectation of getting your dick wet is presumptuous, but in your defense, that's usually how this starts. even when you find yourself calling alexei first because you're lonely or bored, there's some fight, some exchanged snark so you have an excuse to shove or pull him around. or when you're hurt, because you need someone (because outside all the eccentricities, alexei is a weirdly phenomenal partner) there's a strong grip on his jaw, so you you fuck his face before you get to anything else.
it's when your over just staring, no longer content watching his ass. thinking about gripping his waist and how much you wish that fat that's been replaced by muscle alexei doesn't need - he is super soldier - was still there. you liked grabbing alexei, his legs, his chest, wherever. liked watching your fingers dig into him. pulling his waist was more satisfying when the fat was there to hold. alexei was told it'd be a better look, more heroic build to have if he packed on more muscle. let's him fit in better with the captain americas and thors, apparently.
in your eyes, the only real plus is that his ass has gotten slightly firmer. you'd rather have the love handles back, though.
not that alexei doesn't still look good. he does. of course, he does. you wouldn't have shoved him into the closest wall, the one right next to his bedroom door, when you caught the words 'when you're part of the team' from his never-ending monologue. when you needed him to shut up. when you needed to shut him up.
alexei's tenacity is something you love about him. it's what you loathe most about him, sometimes. "when i'm what?"
because he's decided something. he's planning something.
involving you.
he doesn't break out of his ramble, but he does meet your eyes. there's something wild and giddy about the way he looks at you.
"you are hero, just like me."
like there's a heat flooding his veins. alexei's jittery.
excited.
looks like he's gearing up for a fight. it would, to someone else. anyone else.
"alexei."
he says your name with the same firmness, not bothered by where your hand rests high on his neck, pushing his head up. forcing him to look at you. as if alexei would bother looking anywhere else. not when there's that intensity to you. the one that clings to you no matter how much you try to soften yourself. one that always seems to excite alexei. spurs him on. "you are destined for glory-"
you don't bother waiting for him to finish. don't bother saying anything, you probably wouldn't get an answer, anyway. nothing alexei hasn't already said, because he's always convinced he's made himself clear, even when he's said nothing helpful. so you bite, just above his collar bone. hard enough alexei chokes out the next few words;
"-and praise-"
you are more aware of your body with alexei.
"-just like me. you and i-"
it's hard not to be with how he talks about you, like you're something great. like you're a modern hercules, built by the gods for labors yet to pass. like you're not just an idiot wanted by the government. like you're not half fighting him into his own room. like you're not a beast compared to him, or anyone really.
because all of that turns him on.
because, despite the fact that alexei is by no means a submissive man, that he doesn't like playing one, he loves his powerful you are.
he's hard by the time you have him shoved and crowded against him bed. from just your mouth in his, drowning out his inane diatribe, and how effortlessly you dragged him around his apartment. because alexei didn't make it easy for you to put him exactly where you wanted him. he struggled and fought, let out those breathless laughs that bubble up his throat when he's beyond aroused. because there was a thrill to this. a challenge. not quite a fight, but something worth wasting his time on until he got his next itch for ink.
you've barely managed to shed any clothes before he's at it again. you've only gotten his sweats pulled down his legs. they're just far enough that he can kick them off when he hooks a leg around yours, doing a quick maneuver that pulls you both down to the bed. that forces you back.
it's with his own show of strength he gets your pants off just enough. ripping the button of you jeans and leaving the zipper busted, shoving them down just enough so alexei to reach your dick. it's low, assured,"we are meant for bigger things, to revel in-"
because even sinking down your dick he has something to say. because at some point he realized his barrier to speaking was gone. not that it'll stay that way for long.
"alexei," is as much warning as he gets. there's a rough pull to one legs, that all it takes for you have him on his back, taking over the pace, keeping it slower than he prefers but just as harsh. your hand tangles in his beard, in that way he likes, dragging his mouth to yours, "enough."
Did you know boar penises are designed to lock into the cervix??? Anyways here's boar some hybrid!price....
You knew, vaguely, that some hybrids had unique sexual organs. It was lightly covered in your sex-ed classes years ago, but you hadn't really thought about it until now.
"Why does it look like that?" You blurt out when price pulls his briefs off, revealing what you can only describe as a corkscrew dick. It looks normal enough near the base, but as you travel up the substantial length, it tapers into a twisted screw shape.
"Mh? Never seen a proper dick before, kid?" Price chuffs, crawling closer to lay you on your back. You hardly notice, too busy watching how his cock twitches when he wraps a calloused hand around it "this, love, is gonna make sure nothing goes to waste."
You should be more intimidated, or at least ask some questions, but it's hard to think when price chooses that moment to press his lips to yours with a muttered "hold still, yeah?"
The tip feels...weird, pressing into you. The small tip of it nudges at your sensitive walls in a way that has you clenching sensitively, each spiral rubbing over your g-spot accompanied by a lewd sound. Every moan and squeak it pulls from you is greedily swallowed by price, hands coming up to massage your chest while he rocks into you.
"Mnhhh, fuck– yer a natural at this," he groans, brows pinched in concentration.
"Ah– mnh– is it in yet? Holy–" you whine, unused to how big something like this is. Prices dick jerks inside you, deeper than you've ever felt before. Involuntarily, your hips buck and grind, searching for that delicious corkscrew to rub against "c'mon– fuck me properly? Please?"
"Y– yeah, okay." Price chuffs, tusks brushing your cheek as he bows down, hands gripping your hips to really drill into you. Stars flash behind your eyes with each rock of his hips, the bumps and ridges of the spiral driving you mad, "fuuuckkk– okay, big push now. You can take it, just let me handle this, yeah?"
"W–what? John– AH!" you shout, back arching off the bed.
Price presses all his weight forward, until the tip of his dick presses against the thick resistance of your cervix. You instinctively try to squirm away, but he just bears down on you, until you feel that tight hole give way.
The spiral tip slips into your cervix, one, two, three notches in. Locking him in place. Above you, price's ears perk up, and he lets out a satisfied snuffle-squeal, warmth filling up your womb suddenly.
You can only gasp and shudder under him, trying to catch your breath even as more cum pumps into you. "Holy...holy shit, john." You mumble "that...wow."
"Mmhh I bet," he noses at your neck, licking up the line of sweat to your jaw "tightest damn thing I've had in years, love. Almost thought it wouldn't fit."
"...uhnm. are you...still cumming?"
"Hm?" Price chuckles, the movement rumbling through you "kid, boars like me go for at least 30 minutes, I've got a lot to fit in here," he smoothes a palm over your lower belly "might want to settle down."
"....thirty minutes..." you mumble. This will be a long night.
