can we get a bit of that endeavor/anal slut toshi content? :>

All Might.” Endeavor says the name slowly and with rancor. His fist is hard in Toshinori’s slicked-back, blond hair – Allmight’s slicked-back, blond hair – and rips on it almost brutally, forcing him back onto his cock with the unrelenting grip alone.

Endeavor’s cock, like the rest of him, is massive. Unrelenting. He touches of Toshinori only what he absolutely must, which is… enough, Toshinori supposes. It has to be.

The number of people who will fuck Allmight is so very very low that he will take what he can get. Especially with Endeavor.

Endeavor halts shortly, shifts behind Allmight, and puts one booted foot up on a crate for better leverage. When he resumes fucking, Toshinori feels like he is fucking right through his belly.

His rim burns from too-little slick, and he loves every second of it.

“If only the people could see their precious All Might now,” Endeavor says, not bothering to quieten his booming voice any; he is daring for people to find them in the school closet; daring someone to open the door and see All Might bend over and taking his cock, dick bouncing between his thighs, untouched and ignored.

Endeavor wouldn’t fuck Toshinori – wouldn’t spare a single glance for him outside of his Allmight persona – but he shudders to think about how it would be. He would destroy Toshinori on his cock. Fuck like a mad man.

The thought is thrilling and frightening at the same time.

“Endeavor,” he groans low, and only gets a sharp, brutal pull on his hair for his trouble.

“Silence.”

Allmight nods dutifully. He feels like his hair must stand on end by now. As messy as it is when he is Toshinori.

Endeavor fucks into his belly, stretches his rim until his eyes burn. He doesn’t want his body to heal the pain, but he knows it will regardless.

Endeavor leans forward, hand rough in the blond mane; keeping Allmight’s big body curved like a bow.

“Not smiling now, are you?” he purrs. He smells of smoke, the fire of his beard enough to make Allmight sweat.

Allmight’s facial muscles spasm as he tries to grin, ass clenching around the big dick of the eternal #2 of the heroes, and Endeavor roars, pulls back, starts up a new, punishing rhythm.

Toshinori groans low in his chest, imagines he can feel every centimeter of the wet slide through his guts. He hopes Endeavor will fill him up this time instead of jerking off all over the backs of his thighs and the ruined gape of his hole – but he will take what he can get.

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For the baby prompts, maybe omega Lúcio getting knotted for the first time by alpha Doomfist or Reaper?

“Breathe,” Reaper murmurs, the sound drawn out and vague like the rest of his mildly smoking body. He encompasses Lúcio everywhere; blanketing his slim back and curling around his sides. Petting his tight, quivering belly.

Lúcio feels the pressure against his hole and whines, head following the gentle press against his neck to let it hang long. His dreads slide over his shoulders, exposing the slim column of the back of his neck.

Reaper conquers it just as he has conquered the rest of the Omega’s body – self-assured and calmly.

“There you go…”

His hips shift closer, the tip of his cock slowly pressing inside. Lúcio’s fingers curl into the sheets, the fine muscles of his shoulders bunching up in mild protest to the intrusion.

Reaper purrs; a sound that can be felt just as much as it can be heard, and Lúcio’s teeth almost rattle with it.

There is no way of tensing up when Reaper is feverishly hot and rumbling all around him. His skin feels firm, despite the tendrils of smoke curling away from him.

He fucks slow and gentle. Patient. No force in the world could make this Alpha lose his composure and the knowledge makes Lúcio shiver more than the unbelievable stretch of his cock spearing into him.

Nothing seems as easy as submitting to Reaper; simply riding the waves and letting his upper body melt into the sheets, muscles becoming soft and receptive.

“Good…”

He can feel Reaper’s hand slide along his side, then around his lower abdomen. Cupping. Holding. Bracing him. Reaper’s tongue drags across the back of his neck, then the top of his hot, burning ears.

Gentling him as the Alpha presses in deep and unrelenting; holding him nice and secure when the already improbable stretch becomes frightening and impossible.

“Shhh… shh…” he whispers sinuously as Lúcio’s tongue is lolling out, helpless whines slipping from him; feeling as small as he’s never felt before in that moment.

The sound of Reaper’s voice is terrifying for some; he might seem harsh and emotionless – but Lúcio would follow its sound anywhere.

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