mid-fuck

[supermeme]

Are you tired of building up to the act? Do you sometimes wish for a chance to skip the conversation and go straight for the scenario you've always wanted to experience?

In that case, rejoice! This meme was made for you.

THE RULES:

1. Post with your character in the middle of having sex.
2. Any scenario and level of description is allowed!
3. Other characters reply as your character's partner in that fuck! Here are some optional prompts, if you want 'em.
4. Keep going and finish the act.
5. Go for another round or have fun with cuddling and afterplay.
6. Have fun!

Comments

Éowyn | Lord of the Rings | OTA

[shieldofrohan]

[[Cross-canon and AUs always welcome. Kink list is here, but as a general rule I'm cool with anything besides pregnancy stuff.]]

cw: incest, slavery, noncon

[perforo]

Swiftly had the gleaming captive been claimed, like his dagger, or his cloak, or his wine cup at feasts. Stolen like a handful of coppers, or a honey cake, or a piece of rolled parchment. Taken imperiously and imperviously, as if she were a thing won by Cersei herself. But his sister has always been in the habit of taking what did not belong to her, and naming it in all righteous faith her own. What was his must also be hers, regardless of the fact that she did not ride into battle, she did not clash steel against steel, she did not charge forth to win glory of any kind. Yet how readily she sorts through the treasures, picking through the trophies, naming that which she would make her own.

Her eyes had thus fallen upon their noble hostage, and he thought for certain it was a fit of jealousy that compelled her to ask after the Rohirric woman. It was because she would see her maimed, made to pay for her incidental beauty. A strike of malice, paired with a cruel curiosity? It remains to be seen what worth the woman is, of course: will those who care for her seek to buy her back, or will they weigh the gamble and decide that she is best forgotten? She will feed lions one way or another, this prisoner; it is only unclear which, and how.

Patience, however, has never been counted among his sister's virtues. She perceives no worthy value in this woman - what value was worth measuring, if it did not amount to even half of her own? - and is dissuaded by the threat of no man's ire should any misfortune befall the hostage. Lions heed no hesitation, no vague and distant threats, and his sister least of all. More easily has she always been consumed by immediate fires, her eyes drawn by that which flickers and seethes directly before her.

It need not have been so, for the prisoner could have been kept honorably but idly enough. They need not devote any further thought to her. But if patience was not to be counted among his sister's virtues, neither was temperance or gentleness. She did not release softly what she took into her grasp, and she did not turn mildly from what she would draw nearer. There was no appetite she left unsatisfied.

He expects violence, some scarring cruelty that she would have done to their hostage, and him to do it, to prove his loyalty and his affection. This is not what is asked of him. She has him and the prisoner both summoned to her rooms, and she will, he knows, entertain no questions on the matter. If she chooses not to speak of what transpires, then by her reckoning it will never have happened at all.

Dutifully had he come, armored and with the requested prisoner in tow, and in sheer, golden silks had his sister received them, as if she were two minutes away from stepping into her morning bath. He is, consequently and reliably, forged hard upon striding into the room, though it would have been untrue to deny that he had been roused already in taking firmly in hand the prisoner's lean arm. Now, confronted with two inarguably becoming bodies, he joins his twin's impromptu gathering with a smile slowly prowling onto his face.

Tie her, she'd instructed, as if she were commanding him to bind a skinned rabbit to the spit, and he had only hesitated long enough to glance at the fair face of the woman who had been taken in battle. A prisoner fairly taken, and theirs to have as they pleased; somewhere in the back of his stirring mind, too, he knows that his sister would not have this woman's blood spilled upon her sheets. This will be something else. Cersei's dearth of virtue is pristinely mirrored in him, then: roughly and with rising vigor does he tie her, with rope that is not making its virgin appearance in this room, and that he is bid to do so, that he is allowed to do so, only incites him all the more. This is, to judge by the jade sparkle in his sister's eyes, no accident.

The second command is as sweet as the first, pliant and eager as he has been made: undress me. The silks fall, as they were made to; they slip from his sister's body like a sheen of gilded water, and his hesitation, if any remains, is another glance at their guest. A wasted question, even unspoken - of course Cersei would not balk at bearing herself before this woman. Of course she beheld no contest of beauty. This was purposeful, a bird of paradise preening before eyes it had arranged to be here. And, because he knew his sister to never take a step without seeing first what she stood to gain, he knew this was not merely a display.

Thirstily then had she come upon him, and with hands nimble and deft: and that, he was half aware in his delight, was a demonstration. She took from him his armor, and the tunic and the breeches beneath, indulging without remorse in the flagrant sin of it. Who would this prisoner tell, after all? Her claim was laid with abandon, with a wicked thrill, and she had pressed herself bare against him with greedy palms and greedy lips before finally easing back a step, a pointed glance directing him to the woman tied to the bed. Now her.

The undressing is timed this way, he does not doubt, so that there can be no inconvenient resisting; bound as she is, their noble lady cannot refuse as he tears from her the humble raiment she'd been allowed. And he does tear - his sister's bright eyes bid him to tear - and he is not upbraided for his excitement. There is a smile at Cersei's lips, the smirk she wears when she is savoring a private jest, and he is beginning to reach for her, distracted anew, when she swats his hand away. She redirects him instead, with a tilt of her head, to the woman reposed on the bed.

"Where are your manners, brother? Our good lady lacks comfort." He seems, at this, to follow her gaze down from the bound woman's face, to the waiting swell of her breast, and he descends there as a lion upon the hind. His mouth opens, abiding no leisurely introductions, his tongue pressing flat over the bud of her nipple. From the corner of his eye he glimpses his sister sinking onto a hip upon the bed, her fingers straying over their captive's shin as if in thought. It is a lovely sight, he thinks: gold before him, and gold to the side, gold waiting to swallow him wheresoever he looked.

"It grieves me to see her so uncertain. Do you think she wears expressions other than fury and sorrow?"

Greed | FMA | ota

[wantitall]

[angewomon]

[ When Angewomon had found herself materialized in the human world, her main priority was to return back to the digital world that she had come from.

So how did she end up on her hands and knees before Greed, pumping in and out of her relentlessly, with her long blonde hair wrapped around his hand as he yanked her head back? ]

A-ah! N, no... No! This... Th-this isn't right...! I-I'm feeling... so strange...!

[ But despite her protests, her body is telling a very different story; her cheeks flush with pleasure, tongue lolling out as she pants and moans like a bitch in heat, all while squeezing down around Greed's cock buried within her. It was clear that she was enjoying this, at being treated and fucked roughly - probably because no one had dared to do this before. After all, when Greed had gotten his hands on her, she was perfectly pristine.

It was hard to believe, with a body like hers and the outfit she was wearing; it had been so easy to expose her plump pussy, simply tugging aside the fabric at her crotch, or how her breasts pop so easily out of the "armor" she wears. But there's no mistaking the tightness or her genuine reactions: this holy being was completely innocent in the ways of the body.

But judging by her reactions, at how her pussy clings so tightly to his cock, it seems that she's a very eager student. ]

ichigo kurosaki | bleach | m/f

[cutupthemoon]

Robb Stark | asoiaf | m/f

[wolfatwar]

[kelitsos]

[ princess rhaenys okay? ]

Athrun Zala | Gundam SEED | M/F

[infinitejustice]

jaskier - the witcher

[lettenhove]

[wolfdogwitcher]

[He probably shouldn't have let this happen again, and definitely shouldn't have been the one to start it, but here he was and here they were.

He could blame it on the whiskey or his years of loneliness. He could blame it on anything he liked but it wouldn't change that the end result is the bard face down in the pillows of their shared bed, his fine tenor voice a clear indicator to anyone who lingers too close to their door of what exactly is transpiring beyond it.

Eskel had started it: something in the way the bard looks after his performance, all bright-eyed and breathless and flushed, the whole vision made softer, warmer by the dwarvan whiskey in Eskel's belly. He'd been unable to resist cornering the bard against the bedroom door. He's not so far gone that he doesn't ask Jaskier if he can kiss him, his harsh voice softened to a whisper rough and warm as woodsmoke. He'd like to think he didn't beg but, well, the booze gives him a kind of plausible deniability. The rest smears together in a tangle of mouths and hands and the clatter of buckles. He's pretty sure the bard loses a button or two (Eskel can fix it tomorrow when he's feeling repentant).

The rope supports of the bed creak in protest; Jaskier has never asked him to hold back in their previous encounters, so Eskel spares him nothing. One hand curled right in Jaskier's hair, the other pinning a hand to the mattress, fingers laced. Growling only half-coherent filth in the bard's ears.]

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd | Fire Emblem: Three Houses | M/F

[asaviorshand]

Izuku Midoriya | My Hero Academia | OTA

[defendure]

xue yang | mo dao zu shi | m/m

[disasterdescends]

terry mcginnis ( batman beyond )

[schwayed]

[ m/m ]

the abomination | Darkest Dungeon | OTA

[enblightened]

kassandra, the eagle bearer | ac: odyssey | f/f

[imitheos]

Dimitri A. Blaiddyd | FE3H | OTA

[lancesalot]

nito nazuna | ensemble stars! | ota

[pyonpyon]

Byleth Eisner | FE3H | OTA

[perfectteatime]

[enblightened]

[The base needs are thrashing inside of him, demanding more, but Bigby didn't get this far wrenching his beastly instincts under control by giving in to them now. Besides, he would not lose himself only to end up harming someone.

So it has been all carefully planned.

He has Byleth pinned face down against his own desk. Like this, Bigby is crouched behind him, cautiously using his hands to spread his legs apart, carefully not digging his claws in. Nosing between the cheeks of his ass, enthusiastically tongue-fucking him before slipping it out to lavish his hole with eager licks.]

steve rogers | mcu | m/f

[deeprooted]

[zimniyubiytsa]

[ The longer she's out of cryo, the more her memories coalesce into things that actually feel real.

She remembers the confusion she felt at the beginning, staring at a pair of wide blue eyes in a face that wasn't quite right, how her body hesitated even while her training was screaming at her, how she just couldn't make herself take the kill-shot she knew she needed to. It felt safer to run, in the end. She hadn't expected her target to chase after her; not to kill her, but to try and talk. Who tried to talk to her?

I'm with you to the end of the line.

The exhibit had helped, a little. It proved to her that she was right. The face of the man in the suit wasn't what she remembered, but he was still the same. Little Stevie Rogers wasn't quite so little any more, but that good heart she remembered so clearly was obviously still beating just as strong in his chest, still prompting him to seek out the good in everyone, even someone as fucked-up and twisted as her.

She'd forgotten his stubbornness, somehow. Being chased through Central and Eastern Europe had reminded her very well, though. Steve was always like a dog with a bone, absolutely incapable of letting anything go when he felt he was in the right. He'd decided she needed him, that he needed her, and there was no force on this earth that would stop him from accomplishing his goal of getting her back. In the end, it was easier to let him catch up to her, to stand in that shit hole apartment and force herself to stillness, to look him in the eye and let the fear and confusion wash through her until all she could feel was a bone-deep weariness and a quiet little hope that now she might be allowed to rest.

This wasn't quite the rest she'd had in mind, back then, but she can't find it in herself to complain.

Steve's massive body is so warm, his weight grounding, and despite the fact that logic would dictate that she'd hate being pinned, she actually finds that she loves how it feels when he drapes himself over her, his arms bracketing her head as his hips move against hers, his trim waist firm between the clutch of her thighs, his familiar voice to close in her ear. She curls her arms around him in return, pressing her fingertips into the strong muscles of his back, and arches up into the press of him, a barely-audible moan slipping past her lips. ]

Steve.

volkner ⚡ pokemon

[absentspark]

[ota 18+]

Dimitri T. | OC | OTA

[subtitledsavant]

jack morrison aka soldier 76 / overwatch / ota

[oldsouldier]

reki kyan | sk8 the infinity | ota

[rekd]

[ permissions here, open to all canons ]

Peter Parker (spiderman ps4)

[webbombs]

anna of arendelle | frozen | f/f

[snowstreaked]

haydee tebelin | gankutsuou | f/m

[tebelin]

cougar | the losers

[elgato]

[ m/f preferred, m/m with canon mates only ]

Myrrh | Fire Emblem 8 | OTA

[darklingdragon]

[im_gonna_heal_u]

She's so small now. I want to protect her.

That's originally what Konoka said (or at least believes), but she's not actually sure how that turned into Myrrh sitting in her lap while one finger teased the dragon girl's ears while the other was pushing two fingers inside her. This was supposed to be a checkup, but somehow checking up on Myrrh's health turned into checking on all the cute sounds she made while being played with. Maybe it started with the way Myrrh always rubbed against her, first showing it as thanks and then as some sort of subtle sign that she needed more than a checkup. Or the fact that Myrrh's reactions to her fingers definitely weren't anything like someone who was clueless or unwilling.

She supposed she could feel guilty about it later. They were squared away in a private office, opportunities like this don't often fall in their lap.

"Goodness gracious, you're this worked up already," Konoka cooed softly. "It's definitely good you came here so I can make you feel better right away."