Actions

Work Header

Razor Sharp, Razor Clean

Work Text:

Breath coming in pants too fast to be called anything but hyperventilation, Stiles licked his lips and watched the clawed hand slide slowly up his chest to rest over his pattering heartbeat. The paralytic, mild a dose it might have been, was no less effective at making it impossible to move. Other than his mouth, which was pressed in a thin line, and his eyes, which seemed glued to that hand, his was completely slack. Trapped and helpless as he was, heart going a mile a minute, he felt like a caught rabbit.

And, considering the way blood flow was still operating perfectly, the creature above Stiles could see and smell exactly how much he liked it. Craved it, from the forced slack of his muscles to the darting sparks of fear in his chest to the delicate feeling points of claws against his fragile flesh.

With one sudden jerk that made Stiles’ breath catch, the creature sliced down, just shy of the skin. Instead, the clothing on his lower body fell apart, five neat cuts rending it into little more than strips of fabric.

Sliding down Stiles’ body, the creature used the palm of its hands to shove the remains of out the way, leaving him bare and without the meager defense of clothing. The claws ran down his bare thighs, scraping against slack muscle and breathing out against the his stomach. Had he been able to, Stiles would have shivered. Instead, he lay there, forcibly passive, as the Kanima opened its mouth, revealing a mouthful of dangerous sharp needle-like teeth and a long, wet tongue.

Except that the tongue didn’t look mammalian. Or, from what Stiles could tell, like any reptile’s. Instead it was thick and almost circular, coming to a blunt point. And long had been an understatement. As it slid out of the Kanima’s mouth, it proved itself to be longer than any tongue should be. Soon enough, it hung out a full foot. But it wasn’t limp - instead it twitched and curled into a lazy spiral, shifting like a living thing.

Tongue wasn’t the right word. Tentacle would have been more accurate.

The appendage gave a slow flick, before reaching out toward Stiles’ hard, straining cock. Reaching the top, the tip pressed at the slit until he gave a low groan. Like it had been waiting for the signal, the tentacle started to slowly twist its way around the shaft, spiralling until the tip hit hip. Then it started to move, little shifts and undulation, and Stiles gave a much louder moan, unable to stop himself at the feel. It was solid but shifting and wet in a way that was hot and sticky and obscene and Stiles wanted to thrust up, but he couldn’t.

Hissing, the Kanima watched his face, yellow eyes glinting in the low light, and its tail lashed before coming around to wrap almost needily around Stiles’ ankle. Like the tongue, it was too long and too flexible and too wet, and his breath hitched as the implications set in.

As if sensing his realization, the Kanima gave another muffled hiss before unravelling the tongue-tentacle from Stiles’ cock. He whimpered, but the creature paid no heed. Rather than bring it back into its mouth, though, it let it hang loose and writhing and it moved up Stiles’ body, tip trailing against his chest and leaving a trail of sticky wet in its wake. Giving a breathy moan, Stiles’ own mouth fell open, lips swollen and red and eyes greedy.

Once their bodies were aligned, the Kanima dipped its head forward and pressed their foreheads together. Tongue resting over his neck and curving around to curl against his cheek, the creature let out a soft hiss that sounded like satisfaction. The tail lashed again, before curling between its legs to press at Stiles’ pre-lubed, pre-stretched hole. Stiles’ breathing cut off for a long moment, before continuing at an even faster rate, coming in big, panicked gulps like he was drowning.

Then, with only a flash of yellow eyes as warning, the tail pressed in, sliding in deep and hard.

Stiles took a deeper, sudden breath in preparation to scream, but before he could the tongue snapped forward and buried itself halfway in his mouth. Closing his lips around it, he started to suck mindlessly, eyes rolling back and fluttering in pleasure.

Showing no mercy, the tail writhed in him, pressing up and in and growing thicker until it was larger and in deeper than any cock could go. Twisting, it curled up and flicked like a wave, pressing up hard against Stiles’ prostate in strong but short thrusts.

Even around the tentacle in his mouth, which twisted and twitched as it moved around and ran over every corner of his mouth and made his cheeks bulge, Stiles managed muffled moans. The taste was almost briney and the wetness too thick to do anything but pool and his mouth and drip out his mouth.

Finally, it all became too much, and Stiles’ managed a last muffled scream as he came violently onto his stomach. His teeth bit down into the tongue, but the Kanima didn’t seem to notice. Instead it kept flicking, milking Stiles past the point of pleasure and into the pain of being too sensitive and feeling too much. Once his whimpers and stuttered sobbing gaps died out, the tail finally retreated, pulling out slowly so he could feel the burn. Then the tongue followed, and the creature curled up next to Stiles, waiting for him to regain control of himself.

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles rolled over and cupped his hand on the Kanima’s cheek. The yellow of its eyes flickered, replaced with Jackson’s. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jackson replied slowly, eyes dragging from head to toe, looking for damage and finding none. “So.”

Stiles gave a slow, pleased smile. “So that was good.”

Eyes lighting up a little, Jackson’s own expression managed to stay neutral. “Yeah? It was okay? So, if I wanted to... you know, again, sometime, that would be fine?”

Brown eyes going a little dark, Stiles’ expression went stern, and Jackson’s shuttered defensively. “If you don’t promise to do that again soon, I won’t make you breakfast tomorrow.”

The shutters fell apart as quickly as they appeared, and Jackson blinked at him. “Oh. Okay. Cool. I guess I have to agree, then. In the name of pancakes.”

Smirking softly, Stiles nodded and patted his cheek. “Agreed, then. My bribe was successful. Now let me get some sleep already.” With that he closed his eyes and snuggled into his pillow. Rather than answer, Jackson just squirmed in closer and curled himself around his boyfriend, letting himself smile as he drifted off as well.