kitasgloves - Tumblr blog

kitasgloves · 3 months ago

Note

I SAW RECS R OPEN YAAAY!! can i req morning sex w inarizaki boys where reader wakes them up bc shes needy?

if its too much, just with suna plspls? <3

☆ HIT IT IN THE MORNING ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring miya atsumu, miya osamu, aran ojiro, kita shinsuke, & suna rintarou messin’ around with you when the morning rolls around.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, consensual somnophilia, oral sex, cuddlefucking, creampies, squirting, minor stomach bulges, some fluff, prone bone.

xoxo, juno. hi!! this request is from summer 2024 & i really hope you see this nonnie 💘 i’m so sorry i didn’t get to this sooner

MIYA ATSUMU.

atsumu’s the heaviest sleeper around, sighing contentedly every now and then as he cycles through his dream, eyebrows jumping up and twitching when it only seems to grow more pleasant. it takes a little longer than it should for him to finally stir, his first yawn melting into a soft moan when he registers the sight between his legs.

this is when he wonders if he’s toeing the precipice of sleep and consciousness, too delighted to believe that this is a dream until you pull off of his cock with a pop. “good morning, tsumu,” you purr, a smile playing on your spit slick lips while you dip your head toward his glistening tip. “sleep well, baby?”

atsumu’s head falls back against the pillows when you take him in your mouth, unbearably tight and oh so hot. blond hair fans out around his head, reminiscent of a halo. “mornin’ to you too,” he chokes out, swallowing dryly, “haah, damn—that’s my girl. g-gonna make me cum like a—okay, shit.”

he can’t hear the giggle, but he sees the amusement dart across your face as you purposefully push harder, forcing his cock another inch deeper. from your place between his thighs—the best seat in the fuckin’ house—atsumu looks gorgeous, with his mussed hair, lidded eyes, and flushed cheeks.

“y’know, ‘s actually rude to laugh at yer husband if he stutters. if i wasn’t gonna—oh, oh—spread those pretty thighs right after this, i’d give ya somethin’ to laugh about.”

with a white-knuckled grip, atsumu fists the sheets between his fingers, fighting every instinct to jerk up into your mouth and make you choke. but you make it look like it’s too easy, gagging quietly and not even tearing up when it happens. frustrated, atsumu shoves a hand through his hair, yanking roughly at the tufts, just like you do whenever you’re on his lap and giving him a kiss.

“ya better be teasin’ me right now,” he says—whines—without any heat behind it. “d-don’t make me drag ya on top of me, babe.”

he nearly rips his hair out, back flying up and off the bed when you swallow around him. the squeeze of your throat and your audible struggle is almost too much for him to take—he might actually cum so hard he puts himself right back to sleep.

in order to save himself the embarrassment and give you the princess treatment you deserve, atsumu pauses, willing himself not to be greedy. his clammy palms settle on your shoulders, and he bites back a moan upon seeing the slight bulge in your throat.

“‘kay, wait—lemme eat ya at the same time, sweetheart. get up here.”

MIYA OSAMU.

“‘m so thankful i get to wake up next to ya every day. even better when yer the one wakin’ me up, my pretty lil sexomniac.”

“call me that again and i’m leaving this room before you can finish the sentence,” you snap, voice weaker than you’d like it to be, “don’t—fuck—test me, samu.”

osamu only snickers from above you, finding your threat ridiculous in its entirety. you wouldn’t voluntarily try to leave, and it’s not like you really could either; he’s pressing his chest to your back while he rocks his hips into you, both stretching and filling your cunt deliciously. with your hips and abdomen flat against the bed, he’s able to push deeper than usual—just as ‘he’ did in your dream, and it clearly had an impact on you. you’ve been together for years, but this is the first time you’ve woken up half naked and grinding all over a surprised though pleased osamu.

“uh huh,” he drawls, and his tip presses against your cervix in a filthy sort of french kiss. “well, ‘s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. and hey, i know ya wouldn’t go that fuckin’ easy, ya hate openin’ the restaurant on weekends.”

“in my dream, work didn’t exist,” you say blandly, growing impatient with his lack of energy. yes, it’s a saturday morning, but osamu said he’d fuck you the way the dream version of him did, and this is far from it. “stop teasing me and fuck me like you mean it, samu.”

a laugh bursts out of him, but soft hands find the curves of your hips and squeeze, blunt nails digging into your skin. “when’d ya get so bossy, angel?” and before you can retort something back, he follows up with, “not that ‘m complaining, though. ya tellin’ me what to do turns me on.”

you keen loudly when osamu goes from one to a hundred, ears ringing with the sharp smacks of skin against skin. heat surges through his body when he buries himself to the hilt inside you, groaning at the tight, all-encompassing squeeze of your cunt around him—you always take him so well, making enough noise to completely shut out the nagging of responsibilities in the back of his head.

it’s a saturday morning, and osamu is enjoying it to the fullest with you. his grip on your body tightens, palms growing damp against your skin.

“swear ya were fuckin’ made for it, angel,” a groan surges out of his chest, shaking his entire torso under its pressure, “i jus’ can’t get enough of ya, yer always drivin’ me crazy.”

he’s folded over you, burning face pressed into the crease of your neck while he babbles endlessly. everything he’s saying makes your stomach twist with arousal, but what makes it feel even better is the fact that all of it is true—the fit of your bodies couldn’t allude to anything else, and you do drive him a little insane every day.

“keep that pace ‘n you’ll make me cum, samu,” you pant, clawing your fingers into his hair, “mmmh, oh my god—g-gonna cum all over you—!”

osamu nods into your neck, rambling more nonsense that eventually fizzles into muffled gasps of affectionate petnames and such. you fall off the edge and straight into liquid euphoria soon after, gushing all over his cock with a pitched whine. and goddamn, he’s so lucky to cum deep inside you at the same time, gushing against your cervix while your walls milk him for everything he’s got. as he rides out the high, weakly bucking his hips into your ass, osamu holds you closely.

an irritating, grating sound (his ringtone that atsumu set for him) splits the pleasant come down in half and he groans, half collapsing on top of you. “have the manager open today,” you purr, more convincing than you should be, “i don’t wanna leave the bed just yet.” then, more quietly afterward, “also, my legs are numb.”

ARAN OJIRO.

“this good, baby?” aran murmurs into your neck, voice thick with sleep as a warm palm smooths over your abdomen, “feelin’ me here?”

absolutely, you are. he’s big, and not completely aware of just how much he’s stretching you out—it’s a tight fit, but you can take it. shuddering with heated bliss, you groan and press back against his chest, “how could i not?”

aran only laughs, easily holding up your leg while his hips slide slow against your ass. “yer cute, always complimentin’ me so much.”

stripes of sunlight scatter over the bed, split by the blinds and illuminating small specks of dust in the air. this is supposed to be a lazy morning, but it only is for one of you—he’s in no rush, opting to draw this out as long as he can before finally making a mess of you. his movements are slow and languid, endlessly aggravating.

as if he can hear your complaining, aran allows his fingers to coast down your belly and toward your aching clit. you cry out with relief, clawing at the sheets when he finally touches you, unceremoniously pressing the pad of his thumb into your clit. it’s only a light bit of pressure, but damn—sparks of heat burst along your spine and shoot straight to your pelvis.

your voice cracks over the words, hips chasing his touch. “ooh, r-right there.”

“right thereee?” he parrots, in a voice that makes your pussy throb with sheer need. warmth races to your cheeks and sizzles in your stomach, right where his hand had been—it’s not quite the same sensation, but your hand settles there. a gasp tears out of your throat when you actually feel him, his cock leaving an aran-shaped impression inside you.

“oh, oh my god,” your lower lip quavers, an audible tremble pushing through your words, “you’re jus’ so fucking deep, i can’t—”

“heh, and to think ya thought we just couldn’t go slow,” as each word leaves him, his thumb moves over your clit a little faster. “i’ll make ya cum hard just like this. whaddaya think, baby?”

“i want to,” breathless and teary, you nod frantically, feeling your toes curl as the arousal burns a crater in your stomach, “please, need you to keep going. hngh, it’s—it’s so damn good.”

aran’s voice is soft still, but a touch more suave now that he’s finally pushed past the sleepiness. strong and accentuated with veins, his forearm flexes as he pushes further between your trembling thighs. “that good, huh? good enough to make ya cry?”

a breathy yes! tumbles out of you, and aran continues, enjoying the intermittent spasming of your pussy. now that he’s completely focusing on you, there’s less movement of his hips, although he does push up every now and then to make you mewl.

“yeah, yes,” you stutter out, feeling a thin sheen of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “g-getting closer, don’t you dare stop.”

aran can both see and feel you digging the heel of your hand into that soft spot on your lower stomach. such a simple technique, and yet it amplifies every single sensation to the max—tears spring to the corners of your eyes, and he knows you definitely won’t be able to hold out much longer.

pleasure looks ethereal on you, complimenting your already pretty features and flattering you in a way that makes his heart swell. it’s all for him, all because of him—fuck, he could cum to just the thought.

so aran holds off, letting you twist and sob on his cock while your hips struggle to decide on chasing his touch or running away from it. there’s so much sensitivity that it might just send you into overstimulation before orgasm, something you haven’t experienced together yet.

“cumming, i’m gonna cum,” you squeal, voice breaking and pitching into a whine when the ecstasy washes over you. you can’t quite breathe by the time you’re coming down from your high, trembling all over and yet still thinking about when the next will come. aran presses a chaste kiss to your temple and playfully flicks a finger over your sensitive clit, because he can already grasp what you’re thinking about.

“finally ready to move past the warmup, babygirl? i hope yer not too tired, i haven’t even gotten ta properly fuck ya yet.”

KITA SHINSUKE.

shinsuke sometimes gets hungry at night, so he ends up heading into the kitchen to eat an apple or he’ll push his head between your thighs. he wouldn’t have it any other way until he woke up to your cunt hovering right over his mouth, soaked with bittersweet arousal.

“oh, shin,” you moan, hiccupping over the words, “y’always do me so good—god, yes, jus’ like that!”

his tongue strokes over you again, starting at the bottom of your slit and dragging all the way up to your clit, silky soft yet rough. shinsuke thinks you sound oh so pretty, whining and whimpering for him with your fingers twisting in his hair.

“ride it,” he groans, voice muffled. to make sure you get the memo, he pulls your hips down encouragingly. “use my tongue, sweetheart. yeah, ya got it.”

shinsuke’s proud to let you steal his air away, if it’s for something as meaningful as this—you’re so focused on making use of his tongue that you don’t even notice his hips uselessly rutting up into the air.

the air fills with obscene, wet squelches and the smell of his spit all over your inner thighs. you’re both bending forward and arching back as the impending high sears its way through your entire body in the form of countless sparks of heat. “‘s coming,” you sob, words bunching together, “i - shin, it’s gonna be messy.”

your orgasm crescendos before it finally rips through you, cunt squirting waterfalls all over him. shinsuke desperately laves his tongue against you, sucking down everything you’re giving him without a shred of hesitation—it’s just so much stimulation that it subverts the length of your high, and a delightful shriek tears out of your throat.

“shin,” you plead, lower lip wobbling as you try to twist your hips away, but to no avail. he’s got you, and he intends to finish this meal, just like he’s always been taught. “i won’t—shit, i can’t cum again just yet! if you’d wait a second—”

mercifully, he loosens his grip on your hips but still doesn’t allow you to go. he looks up, an eyebrow raised expectantly as though he doesn’t believe you. no nonsense as always, it seems.

“ya can and ya will,” he says simply, shutting you up before returning to flicking his tongue against your twitching pussy. now that you’re more lucid than before, you’re able to pick up on the noisy creaking coming from beneath you. it’s when you swivel your head around that you actually notice the dampening spot on the front of his boxers—white cum seeping through the fabric.

shinsuke kind of notices you looking and feels his cheeks grow a degree warmer. it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, he knows, but still.. maybe he can help ease the process of forgetting along with another orgasm or two.

he clears his throat, letting the tip of his tongue circle your clit. “eyes on me, c’mon. we ain’t done just yet.”

SUNA RINTAROU.

“rin,” you whisper-hiss, voice scratchy with sleep and tight with unmistakable desperation. “open your eyes.”

‘is there a fire?’ is the first thing he thinks, until he blinks the sleep out of his cloudy eyes and sees the genuine distress on your face, feels you sitting directly on top of his hard cock. the need for friction is intoxicating, especially with such thin layers of fabric between your bodies, and—wait. rintarou can actually feel himself leaking precum through his boxers, and there’s a damp spot forming right where you’re sitting on him.

“aw, baby,” rintarou says dryly, palm lazily skimming over your bare thigh, “thought you had enough earlier. what happened?”

“well,” you begin hastily, fingers slipping under his waistband to tug the clothing away inch by inch, “i was really hot, so i woke up, and i was still soaked from earlier. also, you were humping my ass.”

if rintarou wasn’t as tired as he is from having fucked you in more than three different positions, he’d playfully push you off him for making him sound like a dog with a stuffed animal. instead, he settles on wrinkling his nose emphatically, hand dropping back to the mattress.

“okay. just for that, i’m not helping you out over here.”

you deflate, having just lifted his boxers almost off of his thighs. him and his damn attitude, always acting up in your moments of need. rintarou mentally takes a photo of your disappointed face and saves it into his long term memory, thoroughly pleased with himself.

“nooo,” you whine, debauched, and his dick starts to get harder. “what if i ride you?”

because he’s too petty for his own good, rintarou mimics your tone with a smirk on his face. “yesss. you can try, but it’s not like you can handle it.”

“uh huh,” you look down your nose at him, all while angling his cock so you can sit down on it. rintarou’s breath hitches in his throat when your pussy swallows him whole, hot and tight and so damn wet as it squeezes firmly around him. you huff out a breath, throwing him a proud look—but he notices the pinch of your brows, the minute tremble of your lower lip. “see? what was i just saying, rin?”

“right,” he says, folding his arms behind his head to sit and watch. that same snark makes its way through just the one word, and you’re determined to fuck it right out of him—so you set your hands on his chest and properly plant your feet on the bed, on either side of him.

“holy fuck, rin,” you mewl, sounding like some kind of fucking pornstar, all natural and operating off of sheer lust, “you’re hittin’—yes, right there!”

sweat blossoms between your thighs and his, allowing for more slip n slide as you slam down on him with enough force to rattle him to his core. rintarou’s never been fucked before, but this is definitely something he could get used to—his cock seems to be thinking along the same lines, having the audacity to throb with sensitivity this quickly.

your babbling continues, growing filthier and filthier the more you lose yourself in the moment. there’s something so delicious about the way you’re taking what you want from him, and the realization ignites an inferno in the pit of his chest. “s-so deep, that’s it,” he sees your pretty eyes roll back the millisecond his tip plunges into a soft, spongy spot somewhere around your cervix, “i could just—i could cum just from this.”

rintarou realizes that you’ve woken his ass all the way up, and you’re also proving him wrong, doing both at the same time. what is he supposed to say, now that you’ve got him choking on his own words? he absolutely knows his fate is sealed when a bitten moan slips out of him and you arch a brow in response.

“what did i tell you, rin?” you ask smugly, voice still strained as you brush a hand along his clenching abs, “deep down, y’know i can handle you.”

#oh my god Aran.....#KITASHIN THE MAN THAT YOU ARE!!!!!#I'm horny :D !!!

2K notes · View notes

kitasgloves · 3 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Pairing: Nikolai Gogol x reader

Content: NSFW. Reader has a pussy. No gendered language used for reader. Reader and Nikolai accidentally consume an aphrodisiac that makes them insatiable for each other. Nikolai is hung like a horse (obviously) Cunnilingus, clit biting, pussy kissing, p-in-v, portals as contraception, Nikolai has big feelings toward reader, soft Nikolai, maaaaaaybe self-ship coded. Happy birthday you beautiful weirdo. ILYSM. Approx 4k words.

“It’s quite a simple plan but brilliant in its simplicity!” Nikolai declared, unprovoked as he took a break from devouring the birthday cake you’d baked for him and stirred the air with his fork. “I’ll simply pose as the foreign minister’s assistant, gain his trust, and then make his coffee! He notoriously takes five heaped teaspoons in every cup! Can you imagine?”

You took a bite of cake yourself, nodding along, fascinated by the DOA’s jester while he talked himself into an excited frenzy in the kitchen of the organization’s headquarters. Sometimes it was a little hard to keep up with his effusive commentaries, but you didn’t mind. In fact, talking to Nikolai– or rather, being talked at as you were now— was one of the highlights of your day. “Five teaspoons?”

“Yes! Five big ol’ teaspoons of my special grade super powered frisky business sugar!” He stabbed the remainder of the slice of cake with the fork and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it apparently without chewing. “Ah! The cake was lovely, thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, Kolya. Happy birthday.”

“It means a lot that you remembered.” For a moment you saw a flicker. Or at least, you thought you did. A flicker of genuine gratitude glimmering behind a slipping mask he quite often allowed to fall loose in your company. “You’re quite the baker, ptitsa.”

And then came his smile; that sweet, soft smile that made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow warm. You lowered your gaze and cut a piece of the cake with the side of your fork before taking a bite. And it was good; light and sweet, and most certainly moreish.

“So… what does the sugar do exactly?” you asked, hoping it wasn’t too obvious just how much Nikolai made your heart race.

“Hm?” he asked, blinking rapidly as though he’d just woken up from a trance. “The sugar? Oh! Well it’s just a simple aphrodisiac, nothing too convoluted. Just enough to cause a scandal when the foreign minister is unspeakably insatiably, ravenously desperate to sate his unbecoming urges. Apparently it’s quite painful if not acted upon and can last for days and days!”

You snorted to yourself as you finished the final bite of birthday cake and set your plate down. Perhaps it was from having the oven on while you baked, but the air was uncomfortably warm. “Sounds awful. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“Ah, he’ll be fine as long as his heart doesn’t give out,” Nikolai shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll have to remember to bring the sugar with me when I head out for the mission. I placed it right there in the cupboard where I wouldn’t forget it.”

You watched, transfixed by a bead of sweat trickling slowly down his neck and into the silky ruffles of his costume. “Huh?”

“The laced sugar. I placed it… in…” He narrowed his eyes, sucking on his lower lip before releasing a resigned sigh. “Ah shit.”

It took nothing for him to hoist you onto the kitchen counter just a few moments later, his eager mouth sucking and nibbling at your lower lip while usually nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his jacket.

“Just leave it on,” you gasped between ferocious kisses, your lips already tingling from the intensity. Your fingers tugged the fastening of his trousers, desperate to get them off him. The need burned at your core; your pussy so wet and ready from just a few kisses.

He pulled away from your lips just long enough to press his forehead to yours, slick with sweat as his breath mingled with your own. “Out of the question, ptitsa, I want to feel you.”

“What if somebody sees?”

He swallowed thickly, shaking his head before kissing you again, his fingers finally working their magic on the buttons before shrugging off the overcoat and throwing it over the pair of you. In an instant the soft press of a mattress hugged your back, and you knew at once he’d portaled you away to somewhere more private.

“Truly, I don’t care if they see,” he said, his voice soft and gentle against your ear. “I don’t mind if the whole organization puts out chairs to watch us. But it’s going to take a while to wear off. Once we get going we might not be able to stop…”

He leaned into you, his hips spreading your thighs a little wider, pressing his heavy, clothed bulge against your aching pussy. You almost came right then and there.“Oh fuck.”

“You want it, yes?” he asked, the tip of his nose traveling along the length of your throat and resting on the peak of your chin. “As badly as I want to scratch this itch, it’s no fun unless you want it too.”

“I want it. Yes.”

He hummed contentedly and chuckled to himself before capturing your lips in another bruising, biting kiss. He made much the same sound when your hands slid down his back, feeling the shifting contours of muscle swell to globes of soft fat when you reached his ass.

Fuck, how long had you wanted to feel up his backside, soft flesh and twitching muscle filling your hands. And his hands were all over you, your clothes far less complicated and much easier to remove, he did so quickly, his palms smooth and impossibly warm, reverently tracing the curves of your form. The weight of him pressed you down into the mattress as you slipped down his trousers, porcelain white skin blotched with arousal, goosebumps stippling his ass cheeks at the sensation of your touch.

He pulled himself upward, guiding your hands across the plush of his hips, his belly, and the full softness of his chest. Snowy white down glistened on his skin and tickled your palm as you touched him, transfixed by the beauty of the man kneeling between your thighs.

A quick shift of his hips freed his cock, so thick and heavy it drooped to rest on your stomach, smearing precum beneath your navel.

“You’re big,” you found yourself telling him, as if it ever could have escaped his attention– though the statement could be said about every inch of him. There was a lot of Nikolai, and your hands were intent on discovering all of him.

His cheeks plumped, narrowing his eyes, and an almost shy laugh escaped him. “Mhm. But I think you can take it. You’re so wet already. Soaked.”

To prove his point he rocked his hips, sliding his heavy length back and forth between your folds so you could feel it gliding over your clit. Slick and full and so swollen you felt like you could burst.

His smile widened at the sight, “See? I told you, the sugar had a kick to it.”

A voice in the back of your mind told you it might have had less to do with the sugar and more that it was him, but Nikolai quickly shut down your ability to think, shuffling down the bed to raise one of your legs onto his shoulders and stroking the tip of his index finger along the hood of your clit.

His cock was oozing precum onto the sheets as he kissed the inside of your knee, his tip a deep angry red. Yet he seemed intent on delaying as long as he could.

“I quite like it,” he said, as though he could read your mind. “The ache, the sting. I’d like to delay mine a little longer if it’s all the same to you.”

As he spoke, he leisurely circled your clit with the tip of his finger, your nub fully erect and practically twitching with the desire for contact. It was wonderful. And it was torture. Far too much yet nowhere near enough. You found yourself pressing your nails into the plush of his stomach, clawing at him while your hips bucked beneath his teasing. “N-Nikolai…”

His teeth pressed to his lower lip as he grinned down at you. “I’ve always liked the way you say my name. It’s sort of musical in a way. I can only assume it’ll get even lovelier when you’re coming apart.”

A moment later his lips were on your stomach, hot, wet kisses trailing down over your navel toward your aching pussy. Instinctively, your thighs parted to make way for the breadth of his shoulders, giving him the perfect chance to spread you wider while he nuzzled your throbbing clit.

“My my my,” he sighed softly. “Now look at you. The sugar must’ve been quite powerful, you’re… well… your pretty clit is so, so hard. You must be aching terribly. Tell me, ptitsa, are you desperate for it?”

Desperate was an understatement. Nikolai may have taken pleasure from delaying his release as long as he could, but you couldn’t stop the impatient twitch of your hips toward his grinning mouth.

He chuckled darkly, sliding his hands down the insides of your thighs, and bringing them to rest just a fraction of an inch from your pussy. “I’m afraid I’ve something to admit,” he said. “While the cake you made was delicious, to be quite honest, I'm far more excited to eat you instead.”

He barely gave you time to process what he’d said, before dragging his long, fat tongue between your labia, the whites of his eyes flashing beneath his lashes, rolling back at your taste. Again, and again, he lapped at your folds, his tongue squirming against the entrance to your pussy before pushing its way in and tasting you from the inside.

Back arching, toes curling, your fingers found their home in the soft silver of his hair, your body thrumming with pleasure with every lick of his clever tongue. And far be it from Nikolai to stay silent; he moaned against your pussy as though he were the one getting off, lapping at the slick concoction of your arousal and his saliva.

“Mmh… lovely,” he mused as he pulled back to draw breath, an almost drunken smile curving his lips before he lowered his head once more and finally lavished your clit with the attention you craved.

But it didn’t come from his tongue, not at first. Pleasure deliciously laced with pain speared through you, sudden and strange, so acute you found yourself subconsciously squeezing the silvery hair woven between your fingers. No, it wasn’t his tongue, but the firm press of teeth surrounding your sensitive nub that drew a startled gasp from you.

“Ni– Kolya…”

He peered at you from between your thighs, his eyes alight with a mischievous gleam that had your breath stalling with anticipation. And then came the manic fluttering tickle of the tip of his tongue, so quick and light it bordered on unbearable. Your thighs clamped firmly around his head, only for him to pry them apart once more with a muffled but no less gleeful laugh.

Clearly amused, he relented, deepening his kiss, until the hot, wet flat of his tongue was firmly pressed to your clit, slowly, methodically squirming back and forth, keeping the pressure constant and letting your orgasm build and build. As much as he enjoyed toying with you, he seemed to take as much pleasure from indulging you too. The moment you came, he celebrated with a deep moan that reverberated through your core, breaths forced from his nostrils as he refused to give up the contact with your clit for anyone or anything.

Only when your orgasm faded did he trail soft, warm kisses between your labia and back to your entrance, his generous mouth covering so much of you as he lay between your thighs and made out with your twitching, leaking pussy.

In contrast to his maniacal ministrations, his kisses were slow and luxurious, his cheek resting on your inner thigh. Soft, gentle, and reverent, and seemingly completely content.

“Kolya…” you panted, desire still stirring even in your pleasured haze. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Hm?” He raised his head suddenly, pretty lips shimmering with your nectar as they curved into a smile. “Of course I do. I’m in agony. In fact, if I don’t orgasm soon I’m fairly certain I’ll come down with a terrible case of epididymal hypertension. To be frank, it feels like my cock’s about to explode.”

“Well… why aren’t you?”

He paused then, shifting the silver bangs from his eyes before raising onto his hands and knees and crawling up the bed to lie on top of you. His weight pressed you down against the mattress, hips slotting against yours, and the unmistakable wet heat of his cock resting against your belly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighed. “Perhaps because by consuming the sugar we took away a little of our free will? Or maybe because I like you, ptitsa, and some part of me worries that once we dance across that particular threshold, things will get messy and chaotic in a not-so fun way. Once the drugs have worn off… well…”

“I don’t mind chaos,” you told him, resting a hand against his cheek and allowing him to lean into your touch. “Not when it’s you.”

“No?”

“Not a bit. And as for free will, well, if it makes you feel any better about it, I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

His eyes widened, a picture of startled innocence. “Oh? You have?”

“Always. I'll be honest, I've zoned out during so many of Dostoevsky's speeches while thinking about you, I'm not even sure what the plan is anymore.”

A heavy silence fell between you as Nikolai turned your words over in his mind, until bright laughter burst from him. He rolled onto his back, cackling and kicking his legs in the air. His cock was still painfully, comically hard; rivers of precum rolling down his length and soaking the carpet of snowy curls at the base.

“Oh! Oh that's rich!” he laughed, “And here I was seeking you out after every assignment just to hear your voice! I thought the attraction was all tragically one-sided.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh-ho that’s sweet. So lovely. My heart is going to burst into confetti any second!” He took your hand in his and pulled you toward him, using the momentum to switch his hold and hook his palm beneath your knee, lifting you on top of him to straddle his hips. “Now now, with that settled, I’m in quite a bit of agony and considerably lightheaded, so if you don’t mind riding me, I’d appreciate it greatly.”

It was for the best anyway— he was, after all, quite large. It was a struggle just to get your hand around his base, to lift it from its resting place on his belly, the weight of it turning your throat dry.

“Nikolai?”

“Yes?”

“Protection?”

“Ah!” He slapped his forehead dramatically. “I forgot to explain one of the best parts! You might be able to feel it if you focus… it might feel a little… hmm… warm and tingly?”

Your brow furrowed as you attempted to untangle his riddle. “To be honest, everything is pretty warm and tingly right now.”

Nikolai giggled in delight, placing his hand on your lower belly. “Well, it’s in there! I haven’t really tested it but I’m almost positive we’ll be completely fine. And fortunately I have an excellent and very discrete dry cleaner for the overcoat so…”

Your mind finally caught up, and you couldn’t help but look at him with an expression of mild shock and amusement. “You put a portal in my pussy?”

“A pussy portal! Yes!” He chuckled, his hands stroking the length of your thighs, the firm grip of his fingers betraying his well-concealed desperation. “So nothing will be left behind inside you. Isn’t it clever? And it’s reusable! We can go as many times as we want to without interruption. So, if you please, and without further ado, I beg that you fuck me until neither of us can take anymore.”

You didn’t need to be asked again. Nikolai’s hands raised to cradle your face at the exact moment you leaned forward to kiss him, softer than before, but no less deep. The fat head of his cock pressed against your pussy, so warm and so wet you half wondered if he was cumming already. Not that it mattered. Once wouldn’t be enough for either of you.

He moaned so sweetly when your tongue slipped across the threshold of his lips, your free hand squeezing the plump, full flesh of his chest while your other eased him inside you, little by little. Hungry kisses, full of longing and relief. A voice in the back of your head cheered, “finally! Finally!” And he was everything you’d dreamed.

He left you breathless without even so much as a thrust, the size of him filling you so completely you had to take a moment just to get used to the feeling of being so stuffed. Pleasure tingled and shivered along your spine, so potent that before long even kissing him was no longer a possibility. You needed to breathe, to gasp, to moan as he bottomed out and all you could do was hold on to him and focus on filling your lungs. Not that Nikolai was any less ruined.

Despite his veneer of jovial calm, he was burning up; crystalline tears of relief clumping his snowy lashes and his complexion flushed pink with desire. He rolled his hips beneath you as you rocked forward to taste him, your tongue traversing the groove at the side of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin and making him shiver.

And it was your name on his lips then, not ptitsa. Just you, the thing he held dearest to him and the only thing he craved. Strong fingers grasped your hips, guiding your thrusts, deeper, deeper, as pretty eyes danced over your form, watching the way your body moved like he was watching the first sunrise.

Reclining against the pillow, he looked every bit an angel, so pretty you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. As beautiful, dangerous, and unpredictable as the sea. There was no telling what future awaited the two of you, but in that moment it didn’t matter. It was just you and him, pleasure and relief, and the symphony of his broken breaths and soft, shattered moans.

“I think…” he said, his voice gentle and awed. “I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. No. No, I'm certain you are. Even now I want you so badly I can’t stand it.”

“You have me,” you told him. “I’m yours.”

The corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, “Yes… of course. You are mine for tonight, aren’t you? Just tonight. But at long last.”

Slow undulations turned to frantic thrusts, his shoulders raising off the bed so he could chase down your kiss. Strong arms at your back, nimble fingers caressing the nape of your neck while you rode him, harder, faster, neither one of you able to hold back a moment longer. He came with his face pressed to your throat, his cries of ecstasy mingling with bursts of laughter that vibrated through you.

“Oh you feel good! So good!” he chuckled, scooting down the bed before rolling you onto your back and settling on top of you. “But we’re far from done.”

“Good. Keep going…”

“Heh! I like you.”

His cock was still throbbing inside you when he began to thrust again, leaving you breathless with every stroke.Your hands came to roost on the curve of his hips, fingers digging into the fat and muscle there as you clung to him, pleasure overwhelming, too much, yet never enough. He was greedy for you, and you for him; for the sound of your name whispered against your lips like a prayer he never thought would be answered. For the pleasure that left you gasping and clawing at him, leaving bright pink curves in the wake of your fingernails. For the way he collapsed against you when he came again and again, telling you each time how good you felt and how he was fairly certain he would never be able to stop.

“I’m not sure I ever want to,” he whispered, cradling you in his arms as you came down from your high. “I am… terribly fond of you.”

And you simultaneously feared and hoped it would never end, as the sun drifted beneath the horizon and rose again before either one of you found rest.

***

The following day, Nikolai sat on the edge of a billiards table in the room that was currently serving as Fyodor’s office. A buttery soft, black leather armchair cradled you as you waited for the verdict, the dull throb of your overstimulated and well-fucked pussy eased somewhat by the icepack Nikolai had thoughtfully portaled beneath you. He may have been excitable and rather chaotic, but you’d learned just how attentive he truly was. All it had taken was a slight grimace of discomfort from you before you felt the cool press beneath you.

“What I do not understand,” Fyodor mused as he peered down his microscope at the sugar sitting on the slide, “Is why on earth you would store drugged ingredients in the pantry we all use?”

Nikolai tittered, kicking his feet as he balanced a pool ball back and forth on his undulating fingers, giving the impression it had taken on a life of its own. “Great question! Excellent question! To be honest—”

“Never mind,” Fyodor sighed, clicking off the microscope and swiveling in his chair. “This is simply table sugar. There are no traces of any chemical compound.”

For a moment the room fell completely still, other than the clack clack clack of a pool ball bouncing on the floor tiles and then the slow rumble of it rolling beneath the armchair you perched on.

You were the first to break the silence, “I’m sorry, wh—?”

“What?” Nikolai echoed, his eyes darting to you then to Fyodor and back again before bursting into peals of laughter. “Your face!” he giggled, arms wrapped around his middle as Fyodor stood to pack up his equipment.

“Wait, wait,” you said, shaking away the fog and trying to make sense of everything. “You knew?”

“No! I had no idea at all, I’m just as surprised as you!” Nikolai effused, happier than you’d ever seen him. He leapt to his feet, standing on the billiards table and raising his hands in the air. “The sugar we consumed was absolutely completely harmless! Totally and utterly mundane! And all of that… completely of our own free will!”

“Quite so,” Fyodor agreed, his eyes barely visible beneath his sooty lashes as he turned to leave the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems poor Sigma has been feeling out of sorts also. Perhaps I should find out if he tried his hand at baking yesterday.”

Nikolai bowed dramatically as Fyodor left the room, the soft tap of the Russian man’s shoes fading down the hallway, leaving you and the jester alone once more.

“Well,” you began, steepling your fingers and resting your chin on top of them, “What now?”

The high-pitched whirring whistle of a wooden cane being spun around and around in the air was the only answer as Nikolai watched you curiously. He chuckled quietly to himself before snatching the cane mid-air and stepping down from the table. “Now? Well, I can tell you what I’d like to do, and then you tell me what you’d like to do. Or vice versa, it doesn’t really matter. And then we’ll see if our idea of a good time aligns.”

“That seems fair,” you agreed. But what did you want? Certainly life was more fun with Nikolai around, more chaotic, more unpredictable, and unmistakably brighter. “Then what I’d like is to spend today with you.”

“Well well well,” Nikolai grinned, his gloved fingers intertwining with yours and bringing them to his chest. “You took the words right out of my mouth, ptitsa. How fun.”

#PUSSY PORTAL 😭😭😭#the writing is immaculate but i will be thinking about pussy portal for next few days #also Nikolai being a genius for using his ability as contraceptives #we stan our creative king kolya

465 notes · View notes