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strawhatsoraya · 8 days

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Renji heavy on mind all of a sudden...

hihi ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა i'm trying not to send u 1 million requests, do u know how much restraint i have?? anyway, may i pls request 👄(smut) for renji (u already know the vibez) w. fling/one night stand & justice is a woman; pls thank u, ily xx fall in love (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

You come into my home--my house--and you request Abarai Renji SMUT? What did you think was gonna happen???

Renji smut, of course, that's what. As if I'd say no. That man *chefs kiss* His tattoos, the red hair, the big tiddies, the big ass sword to match his [censored]. Roar, Zabimaru is the safe word. Pass it around.

I wrote...this little piece for you. I say little, but it is in fact, a big'un. 5k. All for Renji (and you). Once again, bb, thank you for the prompt. I live to write and please.

Tit for Tat

ABARAI RENJI X FEM READER | NSFW

WORD COUNT: 5k (bruh...what the fuck happened.)

CONTENT WARNING: you know it: alcohol consumption, it is what it is, renji is so mean like i will fight him but i don't have the muscle, nipple play, biting lots of biting like ridiculous, renji likes to slap ass and pussies too, ya know for fun cause it's cute and shit, vaginal penetration, for as long as this damn thing is you WOULD THINK they did more, but no, degradaaatiooon i guess????, he's mean so really that's all i can say, oh yeah maybe size kink, renji got a big [censored]

A BADLY WRITTEN SUMMARY: Y/N really thought she could until she couldn't. There's nothing else to it. You just gotta read it, folks.

You had been watching him since he entered. It was compulsory; some kind of involuntary reaction. You tried to reason with it, tried to understand the explanation behind the sudden acceleration in your heart beat. You frown at your thoughts, swirling your wine glass. The maroon liquid spinning inside beckons you to look for him again. You admire the fiery mane of hair as you bring your glass to your lips for a taste and find yourself disappointed.

This was your favorite, from a bottle of St. Henri Shiraz, full-bodied and heavy on your tongue; still it barely whets your palate. What you’re craving is something else, something new; thrilling and exciting, like the dark geometric tattoos on his forehead, or the teasing beginning of one, peeking out from his v-neck shirt.

You drink again from your glass, hoping to stave off the gnawing hunger.

It is still inefficient; a waste of your time, just like any continued further attempt would be. At this point, you consider it necessary to leave your spot at the bar. You leave your glass behind. No further souvenirs were needed. Heels clicking on the floor, you squeeze between him and the empty stool by his left.

“Do you mind?” you ask him, practicing your most innocent voice as you drop yourself on the stool. He doesn’t glance at you, but somehow you feel it–his appraisal of you. It was quick, and left you wanting more.

“I don’t care either way,” he spoke gruffly, bringing a glass of sake to his lips. The last thing he wanted was to be tangled up with a human in his gigai body. Renji was just looking for a night to clear his head, away from everyone he knew. If he had intended to keep company he would have invited Rukia or even harassed Ichigo–but the orange haired idiot was busy with college now; a grown man.

Renji’s smile is derisive, as he does his best to hide it behind the glass. His smile threatened to be destroyed at the feel of a hand traveling over his thigh; nails trailing gently until they found his knee.

He feels his muscles react despite the urge to resist. They flex under your touch. He swallows and turns his head slightly to look down at you. You notice the enticing sharp lines of his jaw tense in restraint. It was enough to goad you on.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” you interrupt his thoughts like an elephant in a china shop–frail ceramic inhibitions shattering into an infinitesimal number of pieces. Until there was nothing but dust, nothing to put back together. He swallows, not for the first time since you sat down, apprehensive words.

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Renji says at last with a casual roll of his eyes. You notice that he still refuses to look at you head on, so you dig your nails into his bony knee. He flinches. An exposure of teeth when he hisses sends goosebumps fleeing over your already heated skin. He looks at you now, brows furrowed, annoyance circling darkly behind his eyes.

Your hunger grows.

“I want you,” you tell him, leaning forward, aware that your cleavage was barely contained in your tight dress. You hoped it was enough to entice him. His eyes linger on your breasts, and you watch him struggle to pull them away. When he looks up at you, his lips are slightly parted, as if he was weighing the words on his tongue. You hum at the thought of it. Curiosity fills you with fantasies about the taste of his tongue, the feel of it on your skin. “Once. Tonight.”

In the back of his mind, he is aware this is a horrible situation to be in. It felt slightly immoral. In a body that was not truly his, he desired you. He felt the dip at the pit of his stomach, felt a growing thickness between his legs. He takes in a sharp breath as he looks at you, observing your fiery gaze. He wants to admonish you but his mouth is a bloody traitor.

“I won’t be held responsible for anything,” he tells you, curling your top lip. Irritation was heavy on his voice, as he tried his best to stop himself from devouring your mouth right then and there. “If you understand…” His voice dies as he swallows thickly again. It is difficult, so he finishes the rest of his sake in one shot.

You watch him throw his head back, and picture yourself licking and sucking up the column of his neck. Your thighs rub together, and you grow tired of it; waiting and waiting for him to decide.

When he finally stands, you seize his wrist. There’s resistance at first, as you do your best to drag him away from the bar. He mentions something about the check, but you ignore him. This was your usual spot as you lived within walking distance. The bar owner knew you. If anything, they’d put it on your tab.

The walk to your place seemed longer than usual as you fought the urge to put your hands all over him. His shirt clings to his muscles in a way that you could see them flex when he moves. You try your best to forbid it–your naughty hands, but they are on his biceps as you pull along, assessing, measuring. He was strong, and the look he gives you through his lashes as he looks down at you is hot enough that you almost imagine your clothes burning away.

He snatches your wrists, and pulls on you roughly. You collide against his chest, and gasp at the feel of his hard body. “Keep this up,” he hisses as he swoops towards your face, his nose inches from yours. “And I’ll just pull you into an alley.”

You are much too old to feel this way, much too wise to think your knees feel weak but you feel your strength leave you. You were a creature of comfort, but an alley didn’t seem entirely bad at the moment.

With a promise to behave, he lets you go, and you lead him at last to your apartment.

As you fumble with the keypad, something you’re quite embarrassed to even think about, you try to think up your next steps. Should you offer him a drink? Or would that be a further waste of time?

He seems to believe so, as he takes you in his arms the moment the door closes. His hands are in your hair, long fingers tangling in between dark curls. His tongue slips past your lips meeting no resistance. He is determined, but not eager, brushing against your tongue. You moan when he curls his tongue around yours, claiming it for a suck. He tastes of sake, and regrets.

Something prickles behind your eyes, but you push it away, deepen the kiss. Your hands roam freely now, over the planes of his muscular abdomen. They rise to his chest and you squeeze the flesh and muscle, absolutely devastated that your hands are not big enough, not strong enough to mark your territory further. So you dig your nails into his chest as he kisses down your neck. You feel him hiss, his hot breath bouncing against your marred skin. One of his hands travels from the back of your head, to dance over the small of your back until it reaches your ass.

He returns the favor, digging his fingers painfully into an ass cheek.

“Easy,” he tells you against your pulse. He nips and sucks until he feels you shudder in his arms. “I’m not that forgiving.”

The taste of danger, heavier than the red wine you drank, lingers on your tongue as he kisses you again with your face in his hands. You reach for him, blinded by the shimmering light in his hair but you grasp nothing as he tosses you back on the bed. You try to sit up to meet him but he is faster, pinning you underneath him.

You gasp as he grabs your breasts, kneading and gripping. You bite back a whimper. He frowns at you, and shakes his head once. “Now why would you do that?” he asks you. His tone was serious, chilling. You barely breathe as he releases your breasts to grasp the front of your black dress instead. A single moment of violence was enough for him to tear your dress in half with his bare hands. Your shout turns into a gasp as the blast of cool air touches your heated skin. The sound of fabric ripping haunts your ears. Fear and desire mix into a deadly concoction. Still, you swallow it all just like the sight of him above your trembling body. “There we go,” he sings, a crooked smile tugging his plush lips. “You shouldn’t hold back. I want to hear you fall apart.”

You want to be mad; truly, you do. The dress had not been cheap, despite its light fabric. Sometimes, you paid for a brand name more than the quality. It had been your mistake, just like your choice to go braless. You were left vulnerable, exposed. He did not hesitate to exploit any weakness, not in battle, nor in bed. His long tongue laps at an erect nipple, soft and explorative at first. When you moan, and arch into his kiss, long, hard and wet he is convinced that he made the right decision.

Tonight was the perfect time for a day off.

Your skin is addicting, sharper and more intoxicating than any drop of alcohol he had ever consumed. Your breast feels soft, and perfect under his large hand. He grips it tightly, and wonders if he will have enough time tonight to explore the rest of you; all of you. For all your boldness, you had become malleable under his touch. He smiles mockingly down at you, as you moan not for the first time, when he flicks a nipple with his thumb.

“You’re all bark aren’t you?” he asks you, and ignores the irony; ignores how in a way he can relate. He leaves a wet trail as he kisses down your sternum, and down to your belly, nipping playfully at the soft flesh under your belly button. Your nails are in his hair, and he tilts his head pulling away from you. He frowns up at you, with a mild sense of irritation. It doesn’t last long, lust taking precedence. “Don’t mess up the hair,” he tells you, and it only makes you want to do it more. You gingerly touch the pins in his hair, keeping half of it up, in a silent thank you. Because of them, you're able to watch him as he runs his tongue over the string across one hip–the thin strings that keep your thong in place. The sight of his tongue, long thick and red made you even hornier. You whimper, and your eyes threaten to close when he parts your legs. He turns his mouth to your other hip, eyes closed as one hand finds your heated core. He slides a thumb, gently at first, over your fabric covered slit. Even through the thong, he feels your wetness. He hums as he drops kisses on your pelvis, tongue running along the elastic of your underwear.

“You’re not wet enough,” he states with another curl of his top lip. You swallow as you watch him pull back to stare at your cunt. It was true that you still had your underwear on, but watching him watch you with such a clinical expression was embarrassing. His frown deepens and he tilts his head. “How disappointing.”

You jolt at his words, and push him off of you. Your hands are on his thick chest and you push with all your strength, until you topple over him on the bed. “How dare you,” you hiss, straddling him. He watches you in surprise, chest rising and falling as his breath hitches. It takes a moment, a second of silence, before he smiles; big, bright and genuine. It is loathsome how it fills you with a strange sense of warmth, so you dig your hands into his hair and pull. You force him to look at you, as you put on your best mean face. “Whose fault is it that I’m not wet enough according to you? Maybe you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He laughs at you, even as you tug on his hair one more time. He brings a large hand, and curls his fingers around your thin wrist. You know in a battle of strength you could never beat him. You seize the opportunity of surprise and swoop down to bite his lower lip, with enough strength and viciousness to draw blood. He hisses into a heated kiss, smearing blood on both your mouths.

The taste is coppery, metallic and you pretend your mouth is a furnace as you suck on his tongue, melting all his hardened edges so that you can mold him into something powerful; something beautiful.

It is lust and delusion that brings you to grasp his shirt in a pathetic attempt to rip it open, to expose the chest you so desperately want to kiss. His laugh echoes in the room, and you feel the sting of embarrassment on your cheeks. You glare at his mouth, now open as he gasps when you slip your hands under his shirt. Your eyes flutter just at the feel of his muscle, at the sensation of his cock growing even harder and bigger underneath your throbbing pussy. You needed a defense, a solution; so you pull the front of his shirt all the way up and shove it in his mouth.

He amuses you, bites down on the fabric with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You ignore his absolute cheek in favor of exploring his skin instead. Ink was stark against his tanned skin, a road map of untold stories. You bring your mouth to them, tasting the secrets embedded in his tattoos. He flinches underneath you. You hear him moan as you drag your nails gently down his sides. You kiss up the middle of his chest, and move over to his collarbone. You drop feathery kisses that make him shudder.

Your touch is light, teasing. Your mouth is a con artist, flapping its gums to sell him empty dreams. He wakes up from this false reality at the feel of your teeth under his collarbone. He bites down harder on his shirt, groaning. Drool wets the fabric and he closes his eyes as you continue to bite down his chest. You are ruthless. Your objective is clear as day to him. This is his punishment, he thinks with a muffled shout when you bite down on his nipple, once again leaving a mark on his skin; purple and red next to black ink.

He had insulted you, pushed you down, and you rose like judge and jury. In his clouded thoughts, full of desire and pain, Renji thinks to himself that indeed, Justice was a woman.

His breath is ragged as you move further down to his ribcage. He tries to contain the shuddering, icy fingers of anticipation dragging beads of sweat on his skin. He tries to steady himself when he feels your teeth graze against his skin, but he is still not prepared for the onslaught. You bite along his rib cage, time and time again leaving a crescent shape of marks.

A moon of bites to match your bark. He laughs silently, shoulders shaking as he tries to contain it. He had already insulted you once, and was paying the price. He couldn’t think of what would happen next. Your hips start moving against him, and his head lolls, a moan dying in his throat. You are definitely wet enough now. He feels you soaking through his pants. His hips buck at the feel of your heat, at your teeth pinching the flesh over his belly button.

He thinks he can take it. He thinks you’ve had enough of the torture but when you move to the side of his waist–he panics. He mumbles something but it isn’t fast enough. You bite down with a growl and his back arches, a shout that turns into a moan. His shirt soaks further with his spit, it now oozes down his chin and pools on the hollow of his neck.

You hear him mumbling, but choose not to listen. This was his own undoing, you think feverishly making up excuses as you bite under his belly button, once, twice; two marks just because. Your hands shake as they undo the buckle of his belt. It takes some effort but you manage.

“See?” you tell him, a tremble in your voice you despise makes you flush further. “You just don’t know what you’re doing,” you continue, rubbing your legs together. Slick slides down your inner thighs. It should embarrass you. You should feel shame at the way your pussy throbs, as if it was pleading to have him inside you. When you bring the zipper down, you’re taken aback, a small gasp leaves you before you can swallow it.

He chuckles at you, propping himself up by the elbows to watch you. He spits out the shirt from his mouth, but doesn’t bother to wipe his chin. “What now? Cat got your tongue?”

You look at him, and find it difficult to swallow. He had felt big, very big, when you were grinding your cunt against him but now that there was nothing but the fabric of his underwear between your eyes and his cock it became evident that you had underestimated his size.

You grit your teeth, and clench your jaw. You were no punk. This was nothing. You tell yourself this as you pull his pants down and he helps you, feeling charitable. Not that you deserve it, you think as you take in the sight of the marks left on his skin, growing darker and darker the more time flies by. He tosses his shirt and looks over at you as he sits up with amusement dancing behind his eyes. His smile is lecherous, and you notice how he grips the bed sheets tightly. Was he holding back? Was he laughing at you? You’re not sure.

You soldier on, heart in your throat, and slide a tentative hand over the print of his cock. He looks heavy, and he feels heavy as you cup his balls. His eyes flutter close, a happy hum coursing through his body. You slide your hand over to feel his length, and you’re amazed at the girth. You were no petite girl, your hands were far from small. If you were to grip him, wholly, you had the feeling your fingers would not touch your thumb.

“Scared?” he breathes out as he watches you grip his tip over his underwear. He blows his hair out of his face noisily. You hate how attractive that mere gesture was so you ignore him, and pull at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He tilts his head but concedes, lifting his hips so that you can pull them down. You dare not look until they’re over his ankles, until you toss them on the floor.

When you find the courage to look between his legs, you think you may have overestimated yourself. His cock is hard, a thick vein running and curling around his length. His balls looked as heavy as they felt. His tip, red, angry glistening with precum taunted you. Erect, it was flush against his belly, up to his belly button.

You can’t help it. You can’t help the hand that goes to your mouth. You can’t help your widening eyes, and the way your whole body freezes and burns at the same time. You definitely can’t help the feeling of growing wetter, hotter, the way your pussy clenches at nothing at the sight of him.

He is watching you with mild amusement, head tilted. He looks at you, lashes fluttering briefly. “That’s enough,” he says decisively. He takes action by grabbing your ankles. He pulls you towards him until you’re underneath him, caged in between his big arms. “I told you, didn’t I?” His breath is moist and warm against your cheek. He licks one, then the other. “I can’t be responsible for anything tonight. Your loss.”

His grip is strong on your hips as he flips you over, hands kneading your ass. You whimper, and grip the sheets on the bed. You think to protest, maybe ask him to go slow but you feel a sting that blooms into pleasure. You moan despite the embarrassment, feeling yourself get even wetter if it was at all possible. His hand grabs at your cunt possessively, and he rubs his fingers roughly over your underwear.

“There we go,” he says in a soft tone, encouraging, full of praise. “You know,” he begins, his tone playful, leaning down to bite up your back. You tremble under his assault, a moan following each sink of his teeth. “You might just be wet enough to take all of me. What do you think? Are you feeling greedy tonight?”

Your mouth goes dry. You open and close it, stammer like a fool, and he laughs again. You feel it against your ear when he leans down. His hands are on your ass again, rubbing circles. “I’m waiting,” he sings, licking the shell of your ear.

“Uh–Well, I–” You begin and you feel your eyes water from shame. This was your undoing. You thought you were above it all. You thought you could be in control but even after everything, he somehow managed to get the upper hand. He chuckles darkly against your ear. His teeth bite down on your earlobe before he sucks on it. He releases it to mock you–to throw your stammering words back at you.

“You sound ridiculous,” he tells the crook of your neck. You feel him smiling there, as he pulls your asscheeks aside to rub his erection between them; up and down. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You take in a ragged breath. His hand is on your neck, and he squeezes thick fingers around it. “Yes,” you breath out between gasps, finding it deathly arousing to feel his thickness rubbing on your ass.

You feel him move away, feel the bed creak. You dare to look over your shoulder, and watch him with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he pumps his cock. His tongue is out, licking his bottom lip, eyes dark, lids heavy with barely controlled desire.

“Show me,” he commands, his thick cock in his hand. He moves his hand slowly up his shaft as you falter. He watches you turn slowly on your back as he squeezes his tip. He bites back a moan, wanting to save it for later. His precum is smeared on his hand and he stills for a moment, as you lay on your back. You push the fabric of your thong to the side, exposing your puffy pussy.

Renji draws a sharp breath, a hiss that turns into a low growl. He crawls over you, stealing away your breath and what's left of your senses. The sight of him is devastating. His broad shoulders make you feel prisoner to the heat between your bodies. He brushes his nose against yours, a terrifying form of intimacy that confuses you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

He clashes against you, a feverish mouth that takes no prisoners. His hands are in your hair again, messing with your curls and you can’t be bothered to be upset at how he pulls at them, how he grips and curls them around his fingers. He kisses you until you feel like he can kiss you deeper than your mouth, past your throat and lungs. He kisses you until you think you can die from this act alone. When he comes up for air, he is gripping your wrists.

“Here,” he says, bringing them to your ankles as he helps fold your legs enough to reach. “Hold these.”

You don’t think you have any right to refuse, or rather, any weapon to battle him with. The idea of having him inside you feels like a necessity that justified any risk. You hold your ankles as you whimper, feeling him adjust his fat tip around your entrance. He rubs it against your folds, and up your slit to your clit. A moan wafts out of your mouth, a wanton song past midnight. He snickers and he slaps your cunt with his cock.

“I think…” he drags his words, the same way he drags his tip down your pussy again, to push gently against your opening. Your eyes fly open from where you had shut them in anticipation. “I really think you’re a little…” He hums pensively, pushing his tip in, slowly. He pushes a bit more, and you back arches. He’s not even halfway but the width of him makes you feel so full you fear splitting in half. “A little too greedy for your own good.”

He finishes his words as he continues to push slowly inside you, inch by inch. You’re amazed at his sudden bout of gentle consideration just as you’re amazed at his size. You can’t help clenching around him, and you hear him curse under his breath. Your stomach contracts, forcing your body to make small jittery jolts as you cling to his biceps, nails digging so hard they leave half moon marks.

“Fuck!” he hisses. His teeth are white when you look up at him, gritting as he tries to keep control. “Hey,” he says softly, voice shaking. “If you keep that up. It won’t be good for you.”

“Shut up,” you tell him, unable to think of a clever retort. What you could only think of is the feel of his thick cock inside you, settling in too comfortably as if it belonged there. You move your hips tentatively, and your eyes close, a moan shaking your body. You hear his laugh again as he starts moving against you, slow and purposeful at first.

“God damn,” he hisses, again. You hate the way he clenches his jaw. The sight of teeth, canines a bit too sharp and long, had never been arousing to you until now. “Your pussy is greedy too, huh. You can barely take me in but you keep sucking me back in for more.”

You are far too gone to be embarrassed. You release your ankles, and wrap your legs around him instead. Surprise is evident in his face by the way his brows rise, the slight widening of his eyes. You loop your arms under his, to hold on to his shoulders. Your breathing is scalding against his chin, you kiss desperately up his jawline as he moves again–thrusting into you with renewed fervor.

“Just do it,” you say quickly, a voice that sounds desperately unhinged. “Just fuck me.” Your hands cling to him, and he scoops you up into his embrace. There is no apology, although he thought about it, as he angles his hips.

He pounds into you with more force than he needs to. He is aware of it when you cry out, when your nails pierce skin. He feels your fingers slip against his back, feels the heat of his blood smearing between his back and your palms. It isn’t enough to stop him, or guilt him. His eyes close at the feel of you, wet, tantalizing; completely erotic. He looks down at your face, the sight of your disheveled makeup–mascara smeared over a temple, lipstick leaving a purple tint on your chin. He loves it. He smiles at you even as he continues to fuck you.

“You’re a fucking mess,” he says loudly as you moan, an orgasm flooding your body like riptide.

You can’t think. You can barely breathe. All you know, and all you need is for him to keep going. The pain is worth it. Every time he pushes in, you feel as if he will kill you, split you, eviscerate you but the moment of pain and fear is quickly followed by a new kind of pleasure.

You moan into his neck, kissing and sucking as best as you can but your strength is not even enough for that. His movements become sloppy, rogue thrusts slamming into your hips hard enough to leave bruises the next day. He grips your thighs as if you had no feelings, hard and merciless. You whimper, reach down with one hand but he is gone before you can even touch him.

He pulls out, and you feel eerily empty. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he grabs a fistful of your hair. He pulls you up, forcing you on your knees. His cock is coated in your cum when he shoves it at your face. Eyes that can barely see, unfocused and hazy, take in the sight of his tip, the way Renji furiously pumps up and down his shaft.

You are not yourself, you think, as you open your mouth, tongue hanging out.

He cums all over your mouth and face. You flinch as a drop hits your eye. You close them tightly, as he still cums some more, feel the heat of it sliding down your face. You hear his laugh as you kneel there, not daring to open your eyes.

“Stay there,” he orders you, and his footsteps fade. Your breathing is loud against your eyes. Your body feels heavy, achy and used. The footsteps come back, and you feel a cold wet rag on your face. He washes your face roughly, not an ounce of tenderness to the gesture. It surprises you then, when you open your eyes to see him smiling at you–a little softly, almost demurely.

You have no words, and suddenly it feels awkward. Before you can say something you regret, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. Apprehensions disappear at the taste of his tongue, he kisses the corner of your mouth, taking your hands to clean them too.

“I was right,” he says, frowning down at the dried blood on your palms. “You are a fucking mess.”

#what a man what a man #srb #renji x reader #abarai renji smut

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