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#need them to perch me on one of their thighs and tell me to get off !!!
fangedtracks · 1 year
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thighs.....
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sceletaflores · 7 months
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A Different Kind of Compensation.
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part two!
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pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
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purplesuitcowboy · 2 months
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tw: rape and incest
During college, Abigail had gotten into pilates. All of the girls on her hall did it together every Saturday. They all get dressed in their work out gear, line up their brightly colored yoga mats on the campus green and run through the sequences of movements together as a group. If she needed help, she could always count on one of the other girls to help her stretch or show her the proper form for a movement. It was a nice atmosphere and Abigail found herself looking forward to it every week.
Coming home for summer break, Abigail promised herself that she would keep up her pilates practice at home so she wouldn't be out of practice when the school year started back up in the fall. By herself, she sat up her yoga mat in the back yard and began to run through the movements. Downward facing dog.. breathe..stretch and then gently shift into plank...breathe..stretch. She was so busy running through the movements that she didn't notice her dad who was watching her from the back porch. She was laying down with her back on the mat and her legs open, spread out like she was doing the splits.
"What are you doing over there, babydoll?" He asked her, leering at her young nubile body from his perch on the porch. Those leggings on her where absolutely sinfully, clinging to her round ass and full hips. From his vantage point, he could just see the outline of her puffy pussy lips through the thin material of her leggings. It didn't seem like she was wearing any panties under her leggings. Truly, it was blessing that his wife and son where out leaving him alone with his daughter.
"Just pilates, daddy. Actually, can you come down here and help me stretch?"
"Sure," he told her, walking over to join her. "Just tell me what you want me to do." He'd thought about adjusting his hard on so that she wouldn't see it but decided against it. She was a big girl. She could handle knowing what her body did to her daddy. It might even help her, maybe, convince her to be more thoughtful about what she wore around me.
"Press my legs down."
He settled between her open legs, and placed his hands on her thighs pushing down on them like he was trying to drive them into the ground.
"That feels great. Thank you," she took a deep breath, and tried to relax into the stretch.
"You're real flexible now aren't you, baby?" He told her appreciatively. He was loosing focus on the goal of the activity, running his hands down her legs. He hadn't been this hard in years. She just giggled and waved him off while she adjusted her legs, bringing them together and then pulling them towards her like she was trying to kiss her knees. When she was settled, he resumed trying to help her stretch. With his hands place on the backs of her calves, he pushed her legs towards her. In their new position, Abigail could easily feel her dads hard cock pushing against her cunt. Experimentally, he rolled his hips against her, rocking his cock against her. The head of his cock brushed against her clit, forcing a reluctant gasp out of Abigail's lips.
"Daddy, this is wrong." She told him, trying to push him off of her. He grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head with one of his hands so she couldn't stop him. Her legs fell on either side of him as he positioned himself between her legs. She bucked again trying to get him off of her but he was too heavy. He adjusted his hold on her, one hand holding her wrists, and on tightly gripping her hip as he continued to rut into her. Her pussy gushed liquid, soaking into and darkening the crotch of her leggings.
"We're outside what if the neighbors see," she tried again, changing tactics.
"I don't care who sees now either we can do this the easy way or the hard way, either way I'm getting me some of this," he punctuated his statement by groping one of her ass cheeks. "Now take of these leggings or I'll take them off you myself."
Abigail worriedly chewed on her lip as she looked around at the surrounding houses. All someone would have to do was look out of their window to see the two of them. She was filled with fear but also the thrill of doing something risky, the anticipation that anything could happen. Hesitantly, she rolled the bottom of the leggings off of her ass, and down her legs. Carelessly, her father pulled them off of her legs and deposited them on the ground beside her. Releasing her wrists, he pushed her legs open, revealing her little pink pussy.
"That's a good girl. God, you've got a pretty pussy," he told her.
"Don't say that, you're making me feel weird," Abigail replied, covering her eyes with her hands so she wouldn't have to see. Despite her horror, she found herself peaking at him from between her fingers.
He dipped his head between her legs, caressing her folds with his tongue. He alternated between licking up and down her slit, and gently sucking on her clit. All the while, Abigail moaned and whimpered behind her fingers. "Delicious." As he licked and sucked, he worked a thick finger into a tight cunt, pumping it in and out, and then he added another. Abigail's moans increased in volume as he fucked her with his fingers. Her mind was reeling, she'd masturbated before but it never felt this good.
Eventually, the pleasure won out and she gave up on hiding behind her fingers, resting her hands on her fathers head as she grinded her cunt onto his fingers and tongue. It just felt so good. She wanted more, she wanted him deeper. It just wasn't enough.
"Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up," her father told her as he pushed himself off of her, his hands rushing to his belt so he could pull out his fat cock. She gasped at the sight of it, trying to wriggle away from him. He clambered over her and positioned the head of his dick against her tight hole.
"Wait, daddy. Don't," she begged, breathlessly. His mouth and fingers had felt amazing but surely, this was a step too far.
"No, can do buttercup," he told her. "I want this cunt now and you are not gonna stop me. God couldn't stop me from fucking this sweet pussy." In one fluid motion, he thrust his full length into her tight cunt. Abigail squealed and her eyes teared up as she was suddenly stretched and filled completely by her fathers big dick. Showing great foresight, he covered her mouth with his hand, dampening the sound of her cries.
"Shh, baby, you don't want the neighbors to see, right?" he told her, as he began to rock his cock in and out of her tight channel. As he found his rhythm, Abigail's squeals of pain became moans of pleasure. Satisfied that she wouldn't scream, he removed his hand from her mouth and pushed up her sports bra, freeing her tits from the confines of her tight top. They bounced in time with her father's thrusts.
"You feel so good, baby. Your little pussy feels so good on your daddy's fat cock."
Abigail slid her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit as her father fucked her. With the additional sensation, she quickly brought herself to orgasm, writhing on her father's cock as she came. Her cunt squeezed him like a vice, pushing her father to his own orgasm. He shot his thick load into her cunt, filling her up with his cream. He pulled out of her with a grunt, and rolled over, laying next to her with his back on the grass. He checked his watch. They wouldn't be back home for another couple of hours, that was totally enough time for another round or two.
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jobean12-blog · 1 month
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Aftermath
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)
Word Count: 2,318
Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.
Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.
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You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.
However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.
Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.
But you were only just right outside the door…
You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.
The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.
“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”
“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”
“Of course.”
You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.
Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.
Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.
Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.
“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”
She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.
Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.
“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.
“Excuse me,” you say.
A third man circles up behind you.
“Let me by,” you tell them.
The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.
“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”
Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.
You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.
“Please. Just let me go.”
The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.
“Think your man will miss you?”
Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.
“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”
The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.
“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”
You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.
With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.
Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.
You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.
“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”
“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.
You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.
The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.
He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.
You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.
Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.
Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.
It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.
Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.
“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.
His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.
Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.
“Steve.”
Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.
“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.
The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.
Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.
Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”
As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.
He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.
Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.
Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.
Your relief is short lived.
Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.
“You. Are a dead man.”
Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.
He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.
Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.
He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.
If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.
At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.
When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.
Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.
When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.
Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.
He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.
“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”
He can feel you standing close.
“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”
When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.
“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”
You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.
“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”
You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.
“Don’t,” you whisper.
You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.
Your lips press to his neck.
“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”
He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.
A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.
“I’m scared. I need you.”
Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.
“I have to go doll.”
His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”
When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”
He’s shouting now.
“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”
Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.
“I know, I…”
“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”
He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.
“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”
You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.
“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”
Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.
But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.
His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.
You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.
“I need you baby doll. So badly.”
You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.
“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”
His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.
“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”
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@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989
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anothertimdrakestan · 11 months
Text
Batboys Toxic Traits Headcanons
because no one is perfect, i wanted to get a little dirty with it and imagine what the boys are like when they're a little... too obsessed with you.
tw for romanticizing possessive, obsessive, jealous, aggressive actions haha xoxo
Jason Todd
- scary dog privileges wherever you go with jace, but he is ALL bite with one and only one warning bark.
- when a hand that isn't his brushes your thigh in a club, fingers get broken. when a cat caller thinks his compliment just has to be said to you, he most likely won't be able to speak again for weeks. And god forbid any villain try to use you as bait for jason, they've all learned if they value their life to never touch you. He's all for justice not vengeance until anyone tries to mess with you, then those words always get mixed up in his head.
- sometimes you cant even complain about people, they end up getting randomly harassed by a certain someone until they just move town
- jason is adamant as long as he's alive there won't be a problem of yours he can't solve with a little violence
- your biggest problem is that he struggles to let you have guy friends, obviously the ones he knows especially fellow heroes are more than fine, but he's been known to burst blood vessels when he sees you close and person with men he's never met
- he's proud of it too: "let another man try and touch y/n, it's been a slow night for me." or "i just don't get why you need him as a friend when you have me, myself, and i"
Tim Drake
- tim gets... obsessive.
- he tends to fall hard but with you he brought the house down with him
- before you were officially his he had hacked every security camera in the city to have eyes on you at any given moment
- both for your safety and his own maniacal flirting strategy: you admire shoes but frown at the price tag? tim's buying you the matching bag to go with the shoes he bought the second you looked at them.
- before you knew how insanely in love with you he was, you truly thought he was a mind reader
- well he kind of was, seeing as he scrolled through your search history every night to know which talking points to bring up with you
- once you finally fell for him and set some stronger boundaries he still occasionally found himself double checking your location when you weren't by his side, or lazily purchasing every item on your pinterest boards, he just can't help but dote on you
Damian Wayne
- damian doesn't really get close to people, but as always you were his exception
- however, this means his list of people to hang out with is extremely short, and he saw no problem in wanting to be around you wherever you went whenever he could
- like a kind of tall, dark, and brooding puppy, he quietly followed you everywhere, and when you strictly told him he couldn't follow along, you always noticed a perched shadow just a few building away
- eventually you got used to rolling over to damian coolly watching you sleep or patiently waiting to pick you up from your classes/job, happy just to walk you to your car
- just like jason, damian had a brutal and heartless style of problem-solving when it came to anyone giving you trouble
- too often you found yourself standing in between his rage a massive mistake whether it was nearly assaulting a friend of yours who tried to ask you out or threatening to buy out your entire workplace when you didn't get the promotion you wanted
- forever cooling his rage was worth having his adoration though, and you were happy to have your overbearing shadow follow you throughout your days
Dick Grayson
- for such a bubbly leader, dick often struggled with communication
- always used to bearing his problems alone youd spent too many nights tracking down your own boyfriend only to beg him to tell you what's wrong
- he never understood that you didn't always want to solve his problems, but hold his sadness or hurt with him
- it was the worst when he was upset with you, whether it was jealously or insecurity that crept into his mind
- he'd take off in a rush hoping you wouldn't notice but you always did, either hunting him down or simply waiting with open arms for him to come home
- it would take years to teach your traveling-circus-raised boyfriend that you weren't going anywhere, ever.
- but, this made for many heartfelt nights where he held you and promised you the world, as if you'd opened him up in a way no one else could, pulling forward the most magical and loving side of your sweet boy
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
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Practice Makes Perfect
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A/N: You know I had to. Can you tell I have studied rhetorics at uni?
Summary: You are Mr. Ted Garcia’s political advisor and you help him with practicing his upcoming speech.
Pairing: Ted Garcia x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, oral sex m receiving, strip tease, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, praise kink, come swallowing, face-fucking
Word count: 2.4k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54597913
Practice Makes Perfect
“Go over it again,” you order as you are perched on the desk, one leg crossed over the other by the knee and your red-bottom stiletto dangling from your toes. You are gripping the edge of the table, and whereas your position looks downright sinful, the smile on your face sports innocence, “Go on, Mr. Re-elected Mayor.”
Ted whips around to face you, reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie. He smiles, a little uncertain of what to make of you, “You don’t know that yet, sweetheart.”
“I know you won’t win the reelection if you don’t practice,” you shrug your shoulders and then move your hands to lean back on your arms. 
“I’ve gone over it a million times,” he says with a sigh, “Would much rather call it a day and order some food. We haven’t had Chinese in a while, have we?”
“Ted,” you stop him, “I need the speech tomorrow to be absolutely flawless. I’m your advisor; it’ll reflect badly on me if you stumble. Not to mention, I’m a woman so I have to work twice as hard to earn the public’s respect. They probably think you hired me to suck cock. That’s what they’re saying anyway.”
“Didn’t I?” He jokes and steps towards you. 
You glare at him but there’s no malice in it, “I could get you fired for that statement, you know.”
“I should fire you for being so distracting,” he retorts. When he gets close enough, he reaches out to curl a strong hand around your thigh and uncrosses your legs. He steps between them but you shake your head when he tries to lean over you. 
“Go over it again,” you repeat. You lean back a little further until you are able to lift your leg and place your heel on his chest, pushing him backward and away from you. He follows your silent order of staying back but still grabs your ankle hard enough to make you shiver. 
“From the top,” you say to not lose face. 
“And if I don’t, Ms. Advisor?” He challenges. 
“You’ll regret it,” you tease him by sounding almost bored, “Try and see what happens.” 
Ted sighs and lets go of your leg, simultaneously letting go of the idea of getting to fuck you as a way of ending his work day. He moves back to the center of his office, clears his throat, and shakes his arms as if trying to loosen up his tense body, “Right, let’s give it another go.”
You cross your legs again and wait. He is going to have no idea what hits him. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of our beloved city, as I stand before you today, I am filled with hope and optimism for the future of our city…” He begins and his tone is laced with a charm that you know better than to believe. Others, however, will eat it up. 
“Very good, Ted,” you praise when he is a few more lines in. He meets your eyes for approval, a playful smirk on his lips. You wipe it off his face not a moment after, having reached up to unbutton your shirt until it falls open and reveals your lace bra, “Continue.”
Ted’s gaze shamelessly lingers on your chest for a few seconds before he does as he is told. It is so easy, like Pavlov’s dog.
“We stand at a crossroads, where the decisions we make today will shape the trajectory of our city for generations to come,” he speaks with confidence, fuelled by the shirt falling off your shoulders and pooling around you on the desk. He looks deep in thought as he tries to remember the keywords that guide him forward in his speech but when you let a shoe fall to the floor, only to let the other one follow, he looks up to satisfy his curiosity, “And I believe that embracing technology is not just an option, but a necessity if we are to thrive in the 21st century.”
“God, you are killing it, Mr. Garcia,” you are only in your skirt and bra now but the bra won’t stay on for much longer. You reach up behind you to unclasp it but there’s no follow-through. You raise a brow in disapproval, “Well?”
“Fuck, where was I?” He runs a hand through his hair. You don’t blame him for forgetting because he doesn’t seem to have blood in his brain right now; it appears to have gone south where he is tenting in his suit pants. 
“A mayor doesn’t swear,” you tut with a little shake of your head, hand still in a waiting position to expose your tits to him. You decide to help him, “My vision for our city…”
“My vision for our city is one where technology serves as a catalyst for positive change!” His voice is slightly louder than normal as if relief floods him because he knows by now that remembering will get him to see you naked. He straightens, “Where innovation brings economic growth, and where every person has the opportunity to succeed.”
You undo your bra and let the straps fall down your arms until you teasingly drop it onto the floor. Your breasts are exposed to the air conditioning unit sending out cold air in the mayor’s office, immediately causing your nipples to harden at the temperature drop. You let out a teasing moan and jump off the desk to make your tits bounce obscenely, “I wanna hear more, Ted. Please.”
“I— uhh,” his gaze is fixed on your chest.
You place a hand on the skirt’s zipper along your side, teasingly pulling it down along your thigh. It seems to kickstart his memory again, “Where smart infrastructure optimizes traffic flow, reduces energy consumption for a greener future, and - Jesus, baby - and thus enhances public safety. A city where access to high-speed internet and the newest devices is not a luxury, but a fundamental right…”
“God, you are so sexy like this,” you say with a grin, hoping that he catches onto the way your eyes drop to his mouth when he speaks, “Nearly convincing me, baby.”
You start to wiggle your hips to get out of your pencil skirt, causing your whole body to shake as you move the fabric down over your legs. It makes Mayor Candidate Ted Garcia’s whole brain go dumb because he stops reciting his speech altogether and simply admires the way your breasts jump with every movement of your lower body. 
“Did I tell you to stop?” You ask when the skirt lies in the pile with your bra and shoes. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your matching lace panties, “Just a little more.”
“But you’re nearly undressed,” he points out and hits his chest to clear his throat when his voice seems to have gone up an octave. He looks almost pained when you stop any motion to step out of your underwear. 
“Listen, here’s what’s going to happen,” you move to stand in front of him with only inches between the two of you, “You’ll make the rest of the speech I wrote with your sexy, big cock in my mouth, and I won’t make you finish until you’re finished.”
Ted swallows thickly. He nods and tries to be cocky one last time during your relentless teasing, “You sure I didn’t hire you because of your fellatio skills?” 
“Why don’t you use your own tongue instead of worrying about mine and make those little words roll off it?” You bite back, “One more line.” 
“H-however, embracing technology is about a lot more than just improving efficiency,” he tries his best not to stutter too much. Oh, you cannot wait to hear him lose it when you close your lips around his beautiful cock. 
“Mhm, what’s it about then?” You encourage. The panties come off then, pooling around your feet until you kick them to the side. 
“It's also about fostering a culture of innovation and entrepreneurship,” he replies with his eyes between your thighs to watch your throbbing cunt. Despite your cool demeanor, you have never wanted him more than right now, and seeing him desperate and faltering because of something you have done is a feeling out of this world. 
You sink to your knees with a dirty smile, keeping your eyes on him the whole time to watch the satisfying sight of his burning desire corrupting his concentration. You wish to tell him that he is so good today, that he hadn’t lied about going over the speech a million times. 
You settle for showing it instead, undoing the button on his black slacks and then the zipper. He twitches behind the fabric. You are salivating by now, aching between your thighs to taste him on your tongue. You pull out his cock with little effort, grinning mischievously up through your lashes as it springs free and nearly hits your cheek. 
“I’ll start dripping on your floor if you get it right, don’t you want that?” You say it and then start to gather spit in your mouth, preparing yourself for his generous size to slide past your lips. 
“I want that,” he breathes, “Fuck yes, I want that.”
“Then tell me what you envision,” you hint and then you take him into your hot, waiting mouth. He tastes so fucking good, heavy on your tongue as you relax your jaw until he stabs the back of your throat. 
He sucks in a breath as you hollow your cheeks and slowly pull off, only to repeat the move again and again, “I envision our city attracting the brightest minds from around the globe to come—“
You hum around his girth at the choice of word, a giggle bubbling up in your throat. The vibration of your noise makes Ted settle a hand on top of your bobbing head, ready to yank if it becomes too much and he needs release right then and there. He corrects himself professionally but falters once more because you moan at the taste of his precome oozing from the tip, “I mean work together and create the next huge— b-big thing.”
You reach underneath his dick to cup his balls and massage them in your palm, working your lips up and down his shaft simultaneously. You have to breathe deeply through your nose, resulting in your neck muscles tightening slightly while he speaks. 
Ted moans out loud for the first time then, having gone past simply stuttering and swearing. He looks down at you with a slack jaw, and when he stays quiet for just a little too long, you start to pull off. He sounds panicked, yelling out a no. 
“Of course, with great technological advancements come great responsibilities. We must be vigilant in protecting the privacy and security of our citizens,” as soon as he starts again, you go back into it with even more enthusiasm, removing your hand from his balls to reach up and grip his hip. You pull at it to show him what you want, and he breaks the long streak he has had with simply reciting his speech for tomorrow, “You want me to fuck that dirty little mouth? Huh?”
You moan in confirmation, nodding with his cock far down your throat. The eyes you send him have him breathing hard and nodding repeatedly, doing an experimental thrust, “Yeah, that’s what you want. You just wanna please your local elected official, you little slut.” 
He can’t fail now. You furrow your brow up at him, trying to look displeased despite how wet you are right there on the floor. He catches on, tries his best to talk comprehensively whilst sliding wetly and repeatedly past the very tight space at the back of your mouth, “R-right, where was I? Shit, that’s right. That's why I will do everything in my power to implement the correct measures and promote trans - fuuuck - parency.”
You press your thighs together when you hear him moan through the end of his speech. He sounds so sexy that you can’t imagine stopping even if he doesn’t get to the last word, and you whimper around his thick cock to push him closer to the edge. 
It’s the first tear that falls from your eye that has him on the brink but he still powers through, “Together, we can use the power of technology to build a city where innovation knows no bounds, and where the sky is truly the limit.”
You are sure it looks like you’ve pissed yourself with how wet you are by now, a patch having formed underneath your dripping cunt. You move your hips to find some kind of friction but to no avail. Above you, Ted rounds off his speech.
“So I ask you, my fellow citizens - fuck, honey, I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come right in your pretty mouth, ah, ah, a-almost - uhh, to join me on this journey towards a brighter future,” he thrusts his hips even faster at this point, his pitch climbing until he is whining instead of talking. The way you can feel his pulse on your lips lets you know that he isn’t lying, so you allow him to fuck your throat frantically even if it hurts a little, “Let us embrace technology with open arms, and together, we will— we will— shit, we will build a city that we can be proud to call home. Thank you!”
He comes as soon as he has said those last two words, and they become his mantra as he spills down your throat with several twitches of his cock that simply will not stop, “Thank you, oh fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou.”
You swallow greedily, sucking him completely clean until he shakes his head in oversensitivity and pulls out of your mouth. He tastes like himself and power, enough to get you drunk. 
“You are fucking fantastic,” he groans when tucking himself back into his pants. He crouches down to meet you at eye level, marveling at the way you are practically fucking yourself onto the air, “My sweet girl.”
“Fuck, I need you,” you pant with tear-streaked cheeks. 
“Here’s an idea since I did so well,” he starts, reaching into his pocket to hand you his phone, “How about you call and order us some food and I rub your cute little clit while you do it? Then we’ll see who is the real professional orator here.”
You want to reply but you can barely press the number of his favorite Chinese place and you almost come the second he touches between your thighs. 
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
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bandgie · 13 days
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I was just thinking about hannie starting an online shop for anime (hentai 👀) style costumes and asking hyunjin to help taking pictures. The reader would be modeling with the outfits. At first they'd be finding excuses to touch the reader to fix the clothes or help her change, then they'd ask her to do different poses that were showing her body more than the clothes, not that they were covering much skin anyway, then hyunjin would ask jisung to help with the poses bcs the reader on her own can't do it properly. and then ✨️threesome✨️
a little manipulation, a little manhandling, a little corruption, the best combination ever
yes anon you are correct
mdni18+ | fem!reader, dubious, pussy play, (un)solicited photos
"are you sure this is necessary?" you turn your head back towards the men. you've got your elbows perched on the table, arching your back so your ass widens for the camera. the underwear you're wearing leaves little to the imagination. you're sure they can see every crease.
click! "yes! i need customers to know it's fine material. it's business, babe. you wouldn't understand." han's reasoning makes your eyes roll. you turn to face the front again, forced to hear the clicking of hyunjin's camera.
a hand comes on your hip. guiding you to arch your back more and spread your legs. you squeak, snapping your head around to see Hyunjin carefully moving you. 
"chill," he doesn't even look at you. "i'm just fixing it." but there's something off about the way he touches you. hyunjin squeezes your flesh, massaging the skin until he travels to your inner thighs. you want to say something, but you recall han telling you that he's a professional. it would be better to let him do his job, but it's weird. 
it's instinct when your legs snap shut, his fingers had went to your crotch. 
"okay! dude! that's so fucking not necessary."
"the underwear was all messed up. im just fixing it," it's the calmness in Hyunjin's voice that gets you to settle. he's so stoic, so poised. his overly professionalism makes you simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable.
"han, can you help me over here?"
you internally whine. now there's gonna be two men essentiality gawking at your cunt. you shut your eyes and try to pretend you're anywhere else, but it only does more harm. it focuses the feeling of ghost touches from their fingers, the accidental flicks to your clit. it makes your hips jolt, your breath hitch. it's a normal reaction for you to get wet, for the substance to leak through the underwear for han and hyunjin to see.
"god damn." it's low, but you hear han. he gets bold, using two digits to run up and down your slit while hyunjin spreads one of your cheeks for easy access.
"w-wait. hannie, it gonna get dirty."
"dirty?" he scoffs. "it's gonna look good. just let me and hyunjin get you nice and wet, okay? it'll look really good for the photos."
"mhm." hyunjin nods. "adds realism, you know?"
you don't know, but they're the professionals. might as well let them do what they think is best.
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Text
Adam x Bratty!fem!reader
Reader is afab/female, explicitly used
Established relationship; you're Adam's wife
Summary: Y/n has started popping off to everyone lately, but mostly to Lute and Adam, which has caused a few scenes. Sera warned them to get their act together before she has to intervene. Adam thinks he knows just the thing to reel Y/n back in.
Minors DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY
Explicit content under the cut!
Warnings: Adam, lots of cursing, brief Dom!Lute, mentions of guitarspear if you squint, vague mentions of Lute x reader if you squint, Dom!Adam, Brat!reader, soft!Adam, BDSM/bondage, wing kink, thigh riding, edging, orgasm denial, slight praise kink?, you get used, idk what else you want me to say, there's some fluff in the midst; Adam fucks you senselessly into submission for being a brat, idk if there's more warnings. It's over 10k, I've lost track now.
Word count: 10,792
Make Me
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(Not my gif, pulled from Google. If it's yours please lmk and I'll edit to credit!)
“The fuck you looking at, Saint Peter? Do I need to get Adam? Move,” you growl, shoving past the poor angel as you head towards the training grounds for the exterminators. Saint Peter looks after you, rubbing his wing where your own clipped his, sending a worried look after you before flying off to who knows where.
You slam open the doors, spreading your wings and launching yourself at the first exorcist you see. She is coming up to greet you, hand out for a handshake, when you grab it and fly up. Ignoring the startled scream from her, you try to keep steady as you twist, somersaulting a couple of times, and sling her towards a group of other exorcists headed right for you. They try to stop the one you sent flying at them, their wings tangling. You watch as they all plummet, hitting the ground with a harsh thud.
“Y/n!” Lute's voice has you turning to face your lieutenant. You smirk and bow your head slightly, wings twitching just the slightest as you hover and land before her.
“Lieutenant,” you grin, walking around her, wings partially folding behind you as you circle her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?” Sarcasm drips from your words. You rest your hands on your hips and watch as she turns with you, her eyes never leaving you.
“This isn't your normal behavior. What's gotten into you? Have you forgotten that we're all a team? We work together as one, and when you break that uniformity, it creates chaos,” Lute glares, voice cold as she approaches, her own wings stretching out. You know you're her subordinate, but you can't help taking the bait she's dropping. Her wings fully spread and you take the opportunity to taunt her.
“What's the matter? Don't like the fact I'm more brazen? I thought you said I needed to be more like you,” you snip, fully extending your wings as a show of defiance to her dominant display. Her eyes narrow and you both move quickly, flying towards each other. However, in your senseless agitation, you forget that Lute is your superior, in both ability and technicality. She easily gets the upper hand and wrestles you onto the ground, pinning your wings to your sides and you to the ground.
“You seem to be forgetting your place,” Lute warns, her tone sharp and hinting at something else you don't quite catch. The group of angels you sent in a heap arrive, all talking over one another to try and tell Lute what happened. She silences them with a look, not moving from atop her perch on you. “Hush! I saw what she did. Don't worry, Adam and I will be dealing with her,” she dismisses the group with a wave of her hand. Only once they're gone does she let you up, one hand gripping the base of one of your wings tightly, forcing you to back up to the side of the building as she extends her wings, making herself look bigger. You bite your tongue at the feel of her hand in your feathers, walking back until she has you pinned, your own wings shrinking and folding as best they can with a hand in the way.
“What now? You've got me alone? Why don't you just beat me and be done?” You snap, glaring at her boots. She steps into your space, forcing you to look at her. You press yourself back to the wall, irritation written on your face.
“You've got some nerve! You're lucky that you're one of the best I've trained. And you're even more lucky that Adam has a soft spot for you, otherwise I'd leave you broken on this fucking ground,” the lieutenant growls, twisting the hand she's got on your wing ever so slightly. Something crossed between a yelp and a moan escapes you as she pushes against you. “Since you think you can just barrel over anyone, you're going to be waking up extra early with me to do drills. We start tomorrow.” With that, she releases the hold on your wing, keeping hers flared behind her, before taking off. You hear her call for the ones training today. With a mocking snort, you take flight and leave the training grounds, deciding to be anywhere else but near Lute.
“Stupid Lute yelling at me. I didn't do anything. Why's she gotta take her anger out on me,” you grumble, landing back on the promenade. You know that's a lie, you're being a brat, but it's not your fault, you reason. You fold your wings, tucking them under your arms as a habit you adopted from Adam. “Fucking tell me I've gotta do early morning shit. Fuck her, she's not the boss of me,” you continue to rant to yourself, completely missing the golden winged angel. His eyes widen as he watches you storm by, none the wiser to his presence. He glowers before white wings cover his face, momentarily confusing him and turning him around.
“Whoa! Sera! I thought we agreed you wouldn't fucking sneak up on me again!” Adam says, looking up at the seraphim. She crosses her arms as she meets his eye.
“Adam, get your subordinate back in line. She is being rude to the other angels and if this behavior of hers continues, I will be forced to intervene. Saint Peter is not the first to have a complaint with Y/n and her behavior,” Sera warns, watching as Adam turns to watch you. Sure enough, you're shoving others aside, using your wings to try and create more space around you as you walk.
“Yeah yeah! I'll go get her! No need to jump down my throat, that's my job!” Adam dismisses Sera, crouching lightly as he spreads his wings. Sera grabs his wrist, stopping him.
“I'm serious, Adam. Reign Y/n back in or I will have to pull her from the extermination team and move her elsewhere. And if she doesn't calm down there, well, let's not let it get that far,” Sera releases him, turning to greet Emily who is flying up with two ice cream cones. Adam, unfortunately, loses sight of you in the time Sera is talking to him. He groans and heads to find Lute.
Lute is sparring with five exorcists at once, pointing out their flaws as she takes each one down. Adam, not particularly keen on getting a sprained wing again, waits out of the way until she notices him and dismisses them to work without her.
“Sir?” his lieutenant questions, wings folding behind her as she walks up to him.
“Have you seen Y/n? Sera's bitching ‘bout her. Something ‘bout she's being mean or some fucking shit. I wasn't really paying attention,” he admits, shrugging as they walk back out the training facility. Lute smirks at his typical behavior.
“Yeah. She came here earlier and assaulted some of the others. Sera is right though. Y/n was deliberately being disobedient,” she reluctantly agrees with the seraphim about you. To be fair, normally you'd go straight to Lute for a good, challenging spar, so to go after some of the younger and less experienced exorcists was a dick move on your part. Adam sighs and groans, glancing down at his lieutenant.
“Hey, Lute~”
“No.”
“What the hell, you don't even know what I was gonna fucking ask!”
“I know you. I don't need to know what you were going to ask.” Adam just stares at her for a moment, his mask switching to a deadpan expression. It quickly switches back to his usual, cocky smirk.
“Oh yeah? If you're so smart, what was it along the lines of then, Dangertits?”
“You were thinking of having me deal with Y/n instead of you, Sir.”
“Don't say it with such confidence. Bitch,” he throws in the last word as an afterthought, realizing she pegged him pretty well. She stopped and turned to face him, brow raised in question.
“So am I wrong?”
“Shut up. No. Let's just fucking go,” he grumbles, spreading his wings and flapping twice to get into the air. Lute smirks and follows silently. She might be his subordinate, but they both know she's right more often than not.
They finally find you at the local barbecue pit, in the reserved section. Reserved for him, Lute, and you. Lute looks up at Adam, wings folding behind her as she waits for his orders. “C'mon, Dangertits,” he mutters, making his way to you. You don't bother looking up when you're sandwiched between two bodies. The familiar touching of wings against yours immediately tells you it's Adam and Lute. You flip them off and continue eating your plate of ribs.
“Umm excuse the fuck outta you, Sugartits. You have some damn nerve acting like you're so fucking high and mighty all of a sudden. The fuck's got your panties in a twist?” Adam reaches over you and takes a rib, expertly dodging the fork you try to stab him with. Lute remains quiet, eyeing you as you glare at Adam, dropping the fork.
“None of your fucking business. And get your own damn plate of ribs, asshole,” you bite out, wings shifting in annoyance. Adam grins and reaches for another rib, holding your gaze while he does so.
“Fucking make me,” he retorts, grabbing the rib you start to reach for. Your eyes narrow, wings fluffing up fully behind you.
“You fucking absolute prick. What the hell is wrong with you?! I said to leave me the fuck alone. I was eating alone just fine until you two showed up,” you yell, drawing unwanted attention and eyes towards the three of you. You let your wings lift you from between your superiors, glaring down at them. “Stop fucking following me!” You leave the duo with your half eaten plate as well as the bill, hands clenched at your sides as you fly out the doors.
Emily finds you on a cloud, well away from everyone. She flies into your vision, giving you a warm smile. You can't help but return it. No matter how mad you were, Emily always seemed to make you want to smile and try to be happy for her sake. She was like a little sister to you after all. You gesture to another cloud beside the one you're on, letting your wings fluff out in contentment. Emily accepts your silent invitation. Heaven's sun warms your wings as you sit in peaceful silence with the young seraphim. It doesn't last long though. You feel Emily's eyes on you and you know she has something she wants to say.
“Everyone's worried about you, you know. Sera's worried that you're going to fall. Adam and Lute….they're worried something is wrong. Something like you don't want to be here, in Heaven, anymore. Saint Peter also said to let you know he wants to see you when you get the chance,” the seraphim rambles, one of her hands finding yours. You allow her to link your fingers, listening to her. Yeah, you have been a little shit lately, you know that. There was only one person who could help and he was still as clueless as ever. Adam. Well, that's not true. Lute could most definitely help too, you just preferred if it were Adam.
“I promise I'm fine, Em. You can tell Sera that I'll be okay. I'm just….going through something,” you grin, swinging your joined hands. “But, for you, I'll try and not cause any more trouble.” You mean every word. You don't want to give Sera a reason to cast you out. You actually like it here in Heaven. Hell, you even like your misogynistic, egotistical, dumbass husband. Why, you don't know, but there's just something about him that draws you in and keeps you coming back for more. He'd definitely say it was because he's the Original Dick.
“Eee! I know she'll be happy to hear that! I'm gonna go tell her you're okay! Okay? Bye!” Emily lurches forward to give you a hug before racing off to find her older sister. You let out a chuckle at the young seraphim's antics. For someone at least a millennia old, she still had a childish air about her. It was refreshing, a nice change of pace from her older sister, Sera.
Your peaceful mood doesn't last too long. You remember Lute telling you that you have to be up early for extra training due to your outburst earlier. Honestly, you know you can't blame anyone but yourself, but that doesn't mean that you like it. With a defeated sigh, you make your way back to your house.
You slam the door to your home, grumbling and cursing Lute and several other angels. In your anger, you completely miss two angels in your kitchen. Adam and Lute watch you pace in your living room, wings fluttering about. They have a silent conversation before Adam's smiling and Lute is trying her best not to, shaking her head. Finally, the light from your kitchen catches your eye.
“What the hell? I can't go out without running into you and now I can't even be in my own fucking place?!” You groan, feathers floating around you as your wings puff up in your annoyance. Adam smirks, lacing his fingers and folding his hands, resting his chin on them as he watches you.
“Babes, this is our house, not just yours,” he corrects you without hesitation, watching as you shake your feathers and fold your wings. Lute watches you both, only here to act as the middleman if needed to separate a fight. You turn your back to them and head back to the couch, falling face first onto it.
“Fuck off. I'm so sick of seeing your ugly mug,” you snarl, head turned to the side so they can hear you. Adam turns to Lute, nodding to the door. She gives him a look, but he shoos her as he gets up, making his way to you.
“Adam, I don't think-”
“Lute, just go. I can fucking handle this. I think I know just the fucking thing to correct her attitude,” a grin appears on Adam's mask, a ripple running through his wings as he pushes his chair back. You fluff your wings, letting them sprawl, one hanging off the back of the couch and the other dangling on the floor. Lute doesn't offer any further complaints, just opens the door and gives him a look before shutting it behind her.
“Go away, Adam,” you huff, feeling his presence hovering over you. You crack an eye open to see his face inches from your own, mask discarded somewhere. You yelp in surprise at the proximity, your wings flapping frantically to help you pull back and away from him. His grin widens as he slowly stalks towards you, his golden wings unfurling and shaking out behind him.
“You've been rather busy the last couple weeks huh? Been fucking with me and Lute and raising hell up here. Care to enlighten me as to why?” His gold eyes narrow as you search for a way around Adam or out of reach of him and his wings. You know he will use his wings to pull you close if you get too close.
“N-no. I haven't,” you lie poorly, slowly crawling backwards on the couch, and off the far side over the arm. You both stare at each other as your feet land on the cool hardwood flooring. A subtle flutter of his wings has you turning and darting down the hall, wings helping as you try to keep out of Adam's reach, hoping to get to the bedroom before he reaches you.
“You're such a shit liar,” he snorts at you, catching up to you quickly. You don't stop to see how close he is, you don't need to. You can feel his feathers brush against yours just before they fully envelope you.
“Adam!” You squeak out as his arms wrap you in a tight hug, face burying in the crook of your neck. Trying to steel your resolve and not break from such a small interaction, you use your wings to push against his, earning a chuckle from him.
“S'matter, Babe~? Need something?” His sharp teeth nip at your neck and it takes all of your willpower to not cave and moan at the sensation. The feel of his chin stubble combined with his teeth make your knees weak. Thankfully you have wings that help keep you balanced.
“Not from you,” you manage to scoff, still trying to get out of his grip, though your attempts are more feeble with each bite to your shoulders. In the small power scuffle, Adam has managed to walk you to your bedroom, nudging the door open fully with his wing.
“Mm, don't fucking be like that. I came all the way here from work just to help you,” he growls in your ear, voice dropping as he talks. You pause in your escape attempts, a chill running up your spine and through your wings. Adam doesn't miss the shaking of your feathers at his words, gold eyes glinting in the setting light filtering in through the window. He quickly takes advantage of your lack of fight, easily hefting you into his arms bridal style, letting your wings free of his hold. You blink up at him, arms instinctively going around his neck.
“Bullshit. Your head is too far up your own ass to care about me,” you sneer at him, grabbing his collar and pulling it tight so it comes close to choking him. He grins and leans his face closer to you, nuzzling his forehead against yours.
“I'm gonna make you eat your fucking words, Babe,” he mutters. He tosses you onto the bed after breaking your hold on his collar. His wings stay spread, displaying his dominance to and over you.
You turn to him, on your knees, and spread your own wings in defiance. You grin smugly at him, crossing your arms as he makes no moves to change your mind. When he does move, you don't see him. He turns you around faster than you expect. It's easy to pin you, and when he moves to grab something from under the bed, he keeps you down with his wings. You struggle under him until you feel cold metal on your wings. A gasp escapes you as Adam moves to secure your wings so they stay flared out, the metal frame locking as he puts the spines of your wings into each arm. You try to pull away, only for the metal brace to force them to stay.
“A-Adam!” You whine, realizing what kind of hole you dug for yourself. He ignores you, making sure your wings are secure before rolling you onto your back.
“You want to show disrespect to your superiors? Don't worry, I'm going to remind you of your place,” he chuckles, moving to grab something from the nightstand.
You whimper. You know you're fucked. You pushed your luck, especially with Adam, and went overboard with your bratty attitude. But fuck if this isn't what you wanted. Adam had been ignoring you after all. He was always ‘too busy’ with work. Maybe you were jealous of the time he spent with Lute, not like you should be, you knew their relationship, but it did bug you sometimes. Especially when you're his wife. You're aware and more than ok with the swing style relationship you both share with Lute. It was something you accepted readily when you met her after a date with Adam. There was hardly ever one without the other, no matter which way you looked at it.
“You're going to be begging me to stop before I'm through with you. I'm going to make sure you don't forget where you belong for a long time,” Adam's voice brings you back to the present. You look up at him, not daring to move from where he rolled you. He's sitting beside you, hand on one of your knees, hiding something in his other hand. You prop yourself up on your elbows, meeting his gaze.
“Big talk coming from someone who's locked up my wings. What's the matter, Dickmaster? Can't put me in my place with my wings in the way?” You taunt, though there's no real bite to your words anymore. You know you're at his mercy now, but you still can't help yourself since he hasn't touched you aside from the love bites he gave you on the way to the bedroom. You watch as his hand freezes the small thumb circling on your knee. His head tilts and he pulls out a massage wand, twirling it a couple of times.
“Sounds like you need more than just this. On my knee, now!” He orders, setting the massager on the floor for now. You raise a brow at him and bat your lashes at him.
“Make. Me.”
A feral noise escapes your husband. You're dragged into his lap and stripped of your boots and pants with a snap of his fingers. His robe is also discarded from his snap, leaving him in dark jeans and a band tee shirt. Your wings try to move, but the bar keeps them locked in place. The most you're able to do is shift the feathers slightly.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
The sting from Adam's hand connecting with your ass pulls a startled yelp from you. Your body shivers and goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. You try to kick and get out of his lap, but his hold on you tightens.
“Want to try that again, Bitch?”
“Y-yes… Make me, Dickmaster.”
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
You try to stifle your moan by biting your fist, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. You hear him tsk and see his shadow shaking his head at you.
“Nu-uh, that's not a good little bitch. What do we say?” He teases, grabbing your free hand and clicking something around it. You recognize the feel of the metal cuffs, even if it's been a few months since they've been used. He grabs the hand you're biting, and you willingly let him pull it above your head. He holds your hand there, your other being held in place by the chain connecting the cuffs.
“Fuck.”
“Getting warmer,” he chuckles, shifting so you're sitting on his lap. “You're going to ride my thigh until you tell me, but if you cum before I say so, I'll make sure you don't get to cum for the rest of the night. Understand, Bitch?” Your heartbeat feels like it's in your ears as you nod your head, wiggling your free hand to grab his shoulder. He lets you readjust yourself, the hand holding the empty cuff taps your free hand. “Gimme.” You immediately move your hand to his, letting him fix the cuff and click it around your wrist. He moves your hands so your arms are locked around his neck, hands resting on his shoulders with the lengthy chain. His own hands roam your body, pausing at your chest to grope your breasts through your top, one continuing south to rest on your hip after he gropes your ass. “Move,” he commands.
You tense slightly before realizing what he means. You lean forward, burying your face in his neck as you begin slowly grinding on his thigh. Still feeling a bit bratty, not having your fire extinguished just yet, you gently nip at Adam's neck before biting down hard at the junction between his collarbone and neck.
“Fuck!”
You smile as best you can with your teeth clamped against his neck, sucking on the skin until you're sure it's bruising. You feel Adam's wings curl around you, radiating warmth. Your wings block his from fully enveloping you, but you feel the warmth in your wings where they touch his own. Feeling proud about your mission to mark your husband, you let go of his neck with a loud pop. Adam's hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he forces you to move faster on his thigh.
“You have some damn nerve being such a brat, yanno that?” He doesn't give you time to answer. He's sucking and biting a trail of hickeys along both sides of your neck, to hell with what anyone says. Once satisfied with the number he's left on you, he lets your hips go, hands trailing up your back to your wings. Your breath hitches as his hands curl tightly into the small feathers closest to your back. “Gonna have to show you where you belong. Make you understand just what happens to a brat who doesn't behave.”
“Sounds fun,” you breathe, leaning your head on your arm to look up at him, grin on your face as your halo shifts to right itself. He tilts his head down at you, gold eyes alight with something you can't quite pinpoint.
“Always gotta have the last damn word, don't cha?” He grunts, grabbing the chain connecting the cuffs and yanking it over the back of his head, holding it above him to pull you close. He drops the chain as his hand moves to grip the back of your neck, tangling in the hair there. You open your mouth to say something else smart, but he quickly covers your mouth with his own, silencing you before you can get anything out. You try to refuse when he licks your lips in an attempt to get you to open your mouth to him. He growls and tugs the hand in your hair, earning a moan from you and giving him access. He massages your wings as you kiss, only pulling away when you gently tap his shoulder, your signal you need air.
You can't process anything. From Adam's hand in your feathers, you riding his thigh, and that kiss? You feel a bit tipsy. Wanting to keep riding the high that is Adam, you lean back in for another kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair. Sensing your keen interest, he obliges you as you pull him down for another sloppy kiss, teeth clacking and tongues dancing.
“Adam, please… Don't want to ride your thigh,” you manage to squeak out, head resting on his shoulders, hands gripping his hair tightly as you grind down on his thigh.
“What's that? You don't want to?” He repeats, letting his hand untangle from your hair and trail up and down your back. He grins, and you swear his face matches his mask. “Too bad. Brats don't get what they want,” he answers, gripping your hip to keep you moving. He rocks his leg, shifting it with you so it hits just right, causing you to squirm. You whine and try to pull away with no fire in your heart, stopped by his grip, wings, and the handcuff chain. You can feel how excited he is, but you know he'd hold off just to prove a point. With another whine, you push your forehead into his collarbone. He doesn't want me to cum but wants me to ride his thigh? Fine, I'll at least follow one rule, you think, gripping his shoulders to pick up your pace on his thigh. If he wants you to ride his thigh, fine, you can do that, but you're doing it on your terms, not his. “Whoa. Ok, Sugartits, now we're talking,” Adam murmurs above you. You try to ignore him, ignore the feel of his hands on you. You don't care about him right now. He's been so mean to you! He's been too busy for you. Fuck him! You're gonna use him. Yes, you love him, but fuck him, literally and figuratively.
So focused on your own pleasure, you don't hear Adam calling for you. You're shaking your head, ears filled with the sound of your own panting. You feel the way Adam moves his leg under you, the way your wings tug against the warming metal brace, the warmth of Adam and his wings, the way you're moving in and out of sync with Adam's leg, it makes your brain fuzzy. A whine is pulled from your lips as you feel that familiar spring coiling tightly in your stomach. When did it coil like that? Surely you're not already about to come undone? Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you bite on his shoulder as your body shakes slightly uncontrollably as you reach your orgasm. You feel a rumble from Adam's chest, his hands tightening harshly on your hips as he works you through your bliss, slowing you down as your body settles from the aftershocks of your release.
“Still disobedient, I see,” you hear his voice and give a faint nod as you release his neck. You smirk at the mark before leaning back to meet his eye, eyes half lidded in ecstasy.
“Fuck you,” you manage to grumble, using the chain against the back of his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles, denying you the kiss you desperately want, he holds you still on his lap, wings unfurling from around you both and folding to his sides. The cool air sends a shiver up your spine, the chill creeping over your bare lower half. You glare then pout at him as he laughs at your expression, hands running over your legs to bring some heat back.
“I told you already, brats don't get what they want,” he reiterates, bringing one hand down hard on your rear end, making you jump. He smiles mischievously and snaps, eyeing your now nude body on display for him, your wings still held firm in their restraint, giving him a complete view of you. You whine and rock against his leg, your first orgasm barely scratching the surface of your need. “Ah ah ah,” he chides, lifting you just enough to prevent you from achieving the friction you just tried to make. He holds you like it's effortless, and honestly, for him it probably is. Man's like eight feet tall, if not more. You whimper, leaning your forehead into his neck at the loss of all contact except where he's holding your thighs. Your hands pull together and you realize Adam is pulling the chain over his head so you aren't locking him in place.
“On your hands and knees.” You're deposited on the bed, the remaining warmth leaving you as Adam shuffles off the bed and waits for you, gold eyes glowing in the dark. You shift your weight, grumbling, until you're on your hands and knees as ordered. “You know better. Arch your back.”
The sound of buzzing piques your interest enough to listen, turning your head so your left ear is pressed to the soft sheets on the mattress. You feel your feathers ripple and a few smaller ones fall as they poof up against your will. Heat creeps up your face and you quickly bury it against the sheets with a groan. Adam's chuckle is faint, but you hear it as he shuffles around behind you. The bed dips under his weight, forcing you to shift and recover your position for any sliver of hope that he won't keep his word of denying you more orgasms.
“Aww s'matter, Babes? Embarrassed your wings are giving away how aroused you really are? Afraid I'm going to do exactly as I said?” His voice drops lower as he leans over you. You feel his scruff on the back of your neck, his breath hot as he places a few sloppy kisses there. You can't help the moan that slips, and he doesn't miss that you ball your hands into the sheets either. He shifts again and you yelp, the vibration setting not what you were expecting as he holds the massage wand to your inner thigh.
“Fuck,” you bite the sheets to try and mute yourself, still not wanting to give Adam the satisfaction of hearing your voice. He tuts, moving the massage wand closer where you want it.
“Hold this,” he mutters. He smacks your hand away and gives you a knowing look. “Not with your hands.” You roll your head to the side, pulling your shoulders closer as you shift to bring your arms back under you.
“You can't be serious, Adam!” You whine, glancing over your shoulder where he's patiently waiting for you to take the wand. His grin never wavers as you lock eyes, gold piercing through you. “Fuck, Adam, please!” You attempt to bargain, hands clawing at the bed when he shakes his head no. Your resolve is slowly breaking at his slow torture. You'd prefer his break-neck pace instead at this point. When he doesn't budge, you curse him out, eyes never leaving his own as you move your thighs together to hold the wand where he wants you to.
“Good girl,” he praises as he moves from the bed, humming to himself. You try to watch him to the best of your ability, but lose sight of him when he moves to your shared closet. You can hear him pushing clothes aside until he lets out an excited ‘aha’. You can only imagine what he found, considering that's where you kept the more sinful sex toys and equipment. The familiar feeling of leather being wrapped about your ankle startles you from your momentary bliss of the wand. You hum as you feel Adam's fingers easily pulling the restraint tight. He slips a finger between your ankle and the leather. “Too tight?” The question makes you shake your head. “Can't hear you, Angel,” he teases, looking over the curve of your ass, down your lovely arched back.
“No, not too tight,” you bite out, legs slightly numb from the high intensity of the toy he demanded you hold. You jump and let out a small yelp as his hand makes contact with your rear. You quickly squeeze your thighs back together to keep the massager from falling, knowing that would earn you more discipline. Without another word, he's moving to get the second leather brace around your other ankle. Now knowing what he's doing, you quickly answer when he asks if the second is too tight. Once you agree that you're ok and the leather is really not too tight, he nudges your knees apart, clicking a small metal rod onto both ankle braces. The wand lands on the bed with a soft thump.
“On your knees,” he orders. He grabs the wand and turns it off for the moment, setting it on the side of the bed. You push up onto your forearms before using them to propel yourself fully upright to your knees. A soft gasp escapes you as Adam wraps his hand around the front of your throat. You never felt him crawl onto the bed behind you, but you feel his warm chest and stomach pressing against your back, feel his breath against your neck. You try to swallow and calm yourself of the anticipation. He trails kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulders, his hand staying firmly around your neck, holding you against him. The cold clasp of metal doesn't startle you this time, but it does send a warmth spreading through your chest and to your core like wildfire. You feel Adam loop the leather band through the clasp, pulling the collar to rest snug against your throat. He checks once, twice, three times with his finger that the collar isn't choking you before turning you in his arms, maneuvering you so you can see him.
“Safeword?”
“Oh, uhh…kumquat!” You snicker as his grin falters at your words before returning as he throws his head back, howling with laughter. He nods, wiping a nonexistent tear away from his eye.
“Perfect. If I cross a line, you say cumquat, and I'll stop, understand?” You giggle a bit at his words, but nod along so he knows you understand. He fingers the d-ring on the collar before using it to pull you close to him. “I couldn't hear you, Pet, what was that?”
“Yessir!” You squeak, a bit baffled by the new nickname. He licks his lips, nodding and muttering something you don't quite catch. He doesn't give you an opportunity to ask what he plans to do before he kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth. Not like you're complaining. You try to move with him, but he has you stuck with your collar, his fingers still tangled in the ring on the front. You groan against him as he presses his lips harshly to your own. He nips at your bottom lip as he pulls away, panting slightly. You notice his hair is tousled more than usual.
While you're busy staring, you don't notice him undoing your handcuffs. He rubs the indents on your wrists before bringing them to his lips, leaving small kisses. Your heartbeat quickens slightly at the sight, loving Adam's sweet tendencies, you don't even know if he's aware of them. He drops your hands and meets your gaze, his eyes narrowing at you. You shy away slightly and drop your eyes to anywhere but his face, choosing the bed by his knee to be particularly interesting as heat floods your face.
“C'mere. Lay on your back and hang your head over the edge of the bed here. You're going to be a good little bitch and suck Daddy's cock,” he croons to you, one hand cradling your cheek. Your eyes widen a bit at his bold claim, but you nod along, nipping at his hand when he pulls it away. He quirks a brow but you just shrug and do as he told you, doing your best with both your legs and wings restrained. Once situated as comfortably as you can, you tip your head back to look at the shadow looming over you. He's got the wand in his hand again and you hum, hands reaching for Adam's clothed length. He's still in his shirt and jeans, so you tug at the belt loops, looking up at him expectantly. He rolls his eyes playfully and snaps, leaving himself bare to you. You, maybe a bit too eagerly, reach out for him, grabbing the back of his thighs and tugging him towards you. You hear his laughter, but you try to tune him out, desperate to start on him in hopes that he'd return the favor with his hands or the magic wand he has.
“Can I touch you?” You ask as he stands above you. The low glow from his wings and halo give you a small glimpse of his expression, a hesitant pause as he thinks over his words.
“Yes, I'll allow you to touch me. But, if you take your hands off me, there'll be consequences,” he grants you permission. You hum with a small smile, one hand going to the back of one of his thighs while the other grips his length. You give him a couple of strokes before opening your mouth and gently tugging his thigh to urge him forward. He doesn't need you to tell him twice, and moves so his shins hit the bed while you move to make sure you can take as much of his cock as possible.
The angle is a bit awkward for you, but you make the best of your situation as you feel Adam move and hear curses ring out. You hollow your cheeks, allowing him to fit farther down your throat as he pumps his hips. You hum, swirling your tongue around him, the metal barbell on your tongue adding a cooling sensation to Adam's heat. He groans at the feeling of it, dropping above you so he's leaning on his elbows on either side of you. You reach up to mess with his feathers, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. He curses and moans as you bob your head in sync with his movements. You let your hand fall from his sack, moving it to join in his wings. You bring your knees up and dig your heels into the bed, shifting yourself closer to the edge. Your gag reflex reacts at the sudden change, your throat constricting around Adam's cock, but you force yourself to choke through it, keeping yourself from gagging again.
“Ahh-fuck!” He curses, hips stuttering before he pushes himself up, pulling out of your mouth. “Up, on your front.” You whine as you're forced to let his wings go, but quickly do as he says, mimicking your first position with your back arched. He fists your hair, pulling you back to him. You lick your lips as he watches you take him back into your mouth. He grunts at the feel of your tongue running over him before he sets a brutish pace, hand so tightly wound in your hair you feel the subtle oncoming of a headache. You reach up and rest a hand on his hip for stability, the other going back to the base of his wings. You relax your throat and jaw as best you can, tears pricking your eyes and drool dripping down your face.
You squeeze your eyes shut tight when you feel a gentle vibration at your core. Adam has the wand pressed to you on a low setting, his other hand firmly locked in your hair. He runs the toy along your folds, resting it on your clit before circling it a few times. You moan around him when you feel him up the setting, circling the toy again. You try to lean back into it, but a tug on your hair makes you stop and turn your gaze up to look at Adam. He's got his head tipped back, mouth slightly open as he pistons his hips, roughly slamming his cock down your throat. You whine as you feel the wand turn off, before hearing it hit the floor. Adam's nowhere near close, but the way you're whining around him does make his dick twitch. You lurch forward, choking slightly, as he inserts a finger into you. You try to rock back into his hand in time with his hips, earning a hum of approval from your husband. He slips in a second finger, twisting and curling them as you rock between his hand and his own rhythm. The coil from earlier winds faster now, having already had one orgasm spurs on a second more quickly. As you start to move out of sync with him, hellbent on chasing your own release again, he withdraws his hand from you. He smirks at your pathetic whine against him, sticking his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them, never letting pausing or slowing in fucking your face.
“Fuck. Taste so good, Sugartits,” he praises, watching you squirm under his gaze. You narrow your eyes at him, tugging on his feathers. His body jerks and he groans as his hips falter in their pace, before stopping. You feel his release hit the back of your throat and you swallow, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, pulling off of him with a grin.
“Mm, right back at ya, Dickmaster,” you antagonize, sitting up on your knees to get closer to him. He growls, his smile twisting into a sneer.
“You just don't fucking learn, do you, Brat?” He yanks you to your feet by your hair, preening at the yelp he pulls from you. “That's ok. We have all fucking night and you're going to be fucking wrecked by the time I'm done with you.” You instinctively let go of his wing and hip as he pulls you into his chest, eyes holding you in place. You give him a lopsided grin as you pull your hands up to his chest, pressing your fingers into his skin.
“Of course not. It's gonna take more than a little bit to make up for ignoring me all month,” you snip back at him. He lets go of your hair and grips your cheeks between his fingers, squeezing lightly. You just smile as he holds your face close to his, his other snaking between you two to stroke his already half hard cock.
“Hmm. I'll have you in tears in a matter of minutes,” he finally replies, releasing your cheeks, and pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. You pout slightly but quickly try to hide it from him. You might have gotten lucky for back talking so far, but you knew you were going to eventually run out of luck if you hadn't already. Adam snaps, pointing to the bed. “On your back, now.” You scrunch your nose at his odd request, unable to read his expression. It takes some maneuvering as your ankles are still in the spreader bar and your wings are still in their own spreader arms, that Adam notices how difficult of a time you're having. He taps your hip, motioning for you to stop. You do so, watching him intently as he removes the bar holding your legs apart. He steps back once he's got it undone, allowing you to move freely. You murmur a soft thank you to him, a hand on his shoulder as you lower yourself onto your back much easier now. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed once you're settled, making you lift your head at him. He doesn't acknowledge you, simply replaces the bar and uses it to lift your legs over his head as he kneels at the foot of the bed.
Your face flushes as you realize Adam is about to eat you out, a rarity from him for sure. He flashes you a grin before kissing up your legs to your thighs. He nips and kisses your inner thigh before biting harshly. You let out a small whine, reacting to the pain by trying to yank your leg back. Of course the bar and Adam stop you from getting anywhere, and your leg twitches while you whimper, balling the sheet into your fists at your sides. Your muscle shakes, pain and ecstasy flooding you, quickly turning you into a panting mess. Adam presses a kiss to the bruise he's left, moving to your other thigh to leave a matching mark there. Your toes curl as his teeth sink into your flesh, a long whine pulled from you as your muscle tenses before relaxing under Adam's tongue.
“Adam, please! Don't tease,” you cry, reaching down to bury your fingers in his messy hair. He hums as he nips at your thigh, sucking another, smaller hickey.
“Don't tell me what to do,” he rumbles, breath tickling your leg. You can't help the small laugh that finds its way out as he hovers over your mound, staring at you intently. How can he be so calm right now, you think.
You lift your head, breath hitching as you watch as your husband slowly licks straight up your folds, never breaking eye contact. You feel your face heat up, and you drop your head back onto the bed, tugging gently on his hair. He lets out a chuckle, nuzzling your thighs before pulling you closer, arms wrapped under your thighs and on your back. He laps at you slowly, humming in contentment as you squirm under him, trying to grind down on his face. He dips his tongue inside, finally, and you arch your back, chancing a glance down at him again. His eyes are closed as he draws random patterns with his tongue. After a few minutes, he pulls back, sucking your clit into his mouth. You suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he hums against you, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine.
He wiggles one hand out from under you, snapping his fingers. The spreader bar, keeping your legs apart, disappears, and you feel his wings gently move your legs out to rest over his shoulders. You stretch one leg out, hooking the other around his neck. He presses a kiss to one of your hickeys, looking up at you. He covers your clit again, sucking harshly as he slips a finger in you, moving it slowly. A gasp leaves you, feeling your stomach tighten at the sudden intrusion. He wastes no time in adding a second finger, pumping and twisting them at just the right angle to make you squeak out his name. He slows his ministrations as he feels your pussy clench around his fingers. He picks up speed again before slowing down, repeating the cycle each time you squeeze his fingers.
“Adam, please, I'm so close,” you pant, hands loose in his hair. You gently stroke through the messy brown strands, eyes shut tight as you try to hold onto the edge of bliss.
His eyes glint with mirth and mischief. He pulls away fully, smiling softly at your cry of protest. “I know I said earlier that if you came before I told you, you wouldn't get to the rest of the night…but now, I'm thinking that was a bit harsh.” There's something in the way he says it that makes you not believe him. You don't know why, and you quirk your brow up at him in silent question, moving your stretched leg to cross the other so you lock Adam in place. He definitely just edged you, you've been on the receiving end of that trick one too many times, but something is different. He's up to something. “So, how about I let you cum,” he starts and you nod quickly, squirming to try and grind on him. He laughs and holds your hips down with practiced ease. His wings lightly trail on either side of your face, down your neck, to your hips softly. “You want to cum for me, Babe?” He asks, dipping his head to lick you teasingly. You don't answer, your brain fuzzy at what he's just offered you. When he nips at your stomach do you snap your eyes to his, nodding in response. “Can't hear you, Sweets.”
“Fuck me… God, yes! Adam, please, please, let me cum,” you beg, using your legs to pull your husband closer to where you want him. His eyes narrow, tongue delving back into your folds. He swirls his tongue, constantly changing his rhythm, licking, nipping, sucking, and lapping at you fervently. You squeeze your thighs, pulling Adam closer as a result. “Adam, please, please, please!” You beg, tears threatening to spill as you feel your stomach contract as you're brought closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.
“That's right, Sugartits. Cum for me. Cum on Dickmaster's tongue,” Adam praises, watching you as he turns his focus back to sucking on your clit, slipping two fingers in and curling them. With a shout of his name, you feel a wave of bliss wash over you. Adam hums as he works you through your release, your legs squeezing his head with the aftershocks. Your gaze snaps down to his, eyes wide in realization. He's not had a change of heart, he's just twisting what he said before. You feel your stomach drop as he pulls back a little, giving your slightly over-stimulated clit a break. His tongue darts out, licking his chin. His smug grin tells you he's about to say something smart, like usual. “Damn, Babe, if I'd known all it would take to rile you up and make you this wet for me is to ignore you, I'd have done it sooner.” You want to hate him and his stupidly perfect face, but dammit if he isn't your idiot. You try to glare at him, but your heartbeat and panting leaves little room for anything other than flustered to show.
“Fuck you, Adam,” you manage to grumble, leaning your head back into the sheets, massaging his scalp. Honestly, you don't know which is the worse of two evils; being edged all night or being over-stimulated to the point of tears.
“In a bit, Babes,” he replies, scissoring his fingers in an attempt to bring you back to the edge. “Be a good girl and keep cuming for me.” He snaps with his free hand, watching as a sash ties your wrists together with a bow knot. You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his silly antics.
You've lost count how many orgasms Adam has pulled from you now. All you know is if he keeps the wand on you, you're not going to last much longer. You tug at the satin sashes holding your wrists together above your head, whining as you feel another orgasm wash over you. Your nose burns as the threat of tears forms behind your closed eyelids. “Adam,” your voice is hoarse as you call out to your husband, eyes opening to find him hovering above you, wand nowhere in sight. As a matter of fact, you don't even hear it anymore.
“Shh,” Adam cooes to you, pulling one of the loose ends of the sash, untying the bow and releasing your wrists from their binds. “Think you can do something for me? I know you've already done so much, been such a good girl,” he praises, pressing light kisses along your jaw. You whimper, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. You feel him shift above you, his wings curling around you both as he fists his cock. “Think you can take one more orgasm, Sweets?” He murmurs against your neck, rubbing the head of himself against your folds. You whine, tilting your head to give him more access.
“I-I don't know. ‘M sore,” you whisper back, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. Instinctively you intertwine your fingers with his as he moves his free hand to your own.
“Come on, just one more, Pretty Girl? One more for me?” He urges, gently squeezing your hand. When you squeeze his hand in reply, he quickly sinks down until your hips meet. You shift your hips, nearly purring with the stretch of him.
“Fuck, feel so full, so good, Dickmaster,” you return the praise, turning your head to look at your husband. His face flushes lightly and he glances away, a quiet ‘shut up’ coming from him. You smile at his reaction, moving your hand from his shoulder to his cheek, cradling it gently. He turns his head to press a soft kiss to your wrist, nuzzling your hand. “I love you, Adam, but for fuck's sake, please fucking move,” you groan, bucking your hips up into him. He chuckles at your renewed enthusiasm and pushes your intertwined hands into the mattress as he shifts his weight so he's evenly over you.
He obliges your demand, slowly pulling out before sinking fully back into you, finding a slow, methodical rhythm. You sigh in contentment as you roll your hips in time to meet his, a shudder running down your spine as he fills you over and over again. It's such a drastic change from the intensity of the last couple of hours. Adam's shift from Dominant to soft-Dominant is so fast that you swear you should have whiplash. His wings brush against your shoulders, your wings, your sides, and they're so warm! You shiver in pleasure under Adam, throwing yourself off rhythm. You feel his chest rumble with laughter as you try to match his pace again, eyes closed, brows knit in focus. You gasp when he angles just right, hitting deeper in you. You grip his hand tightly, moving the other to his shoulder again in an attempt to pull him closer.
“Shh. There's my good girl. Do you feel good? Like when I hit right there,” he emphasizes his words with a particular hard thrust, hitting your g-spot. You yelp, bucking against him as a result. “Yeah? There?” He slips his wings under you, leaning back and pulling you with him as he sits up. He takes care not to shift too much, keeping himself buried in you as he adjusts you in his lap. He gently pulls his hand out of your grasp, moving to hold your hips as he helps support you, helping rock you back and forth on him. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck while you bounce on him. You feel his hands under your thighs, lightly cupping your ass as he helps hold your weight when your legs start to give out. “Can my baby girl give me one more? Think you got one more for me?” He whispers into your hair, leaning his head against yours, bucking up into you as you still, leg muscles too abused to continue your movements. You nod against him, panting as you try to focus on the feeling of him; his smell, his warmth, his familiarity, it all invades your senses and fills you with peace.
Adam holds you steady in his lap as he starts to quicken his pace, losing his rhythm from before. He slips one hand between you both, thumb quickly finding your clit again. You shudder and cry at how sensitive you are, shaking your head against his neck, babbling nonsense. He mumbles soft reassurances in your ear, pulling you down as he thrusts up.
“C'mon, Sugar, cum for Dickmaster. Cum on the Original Dick,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers digging into your skin. You whimper as Adam hits your g-spot as he talks, giving you that final push over the edge. You cling to him, legs shaking as your body tries to calm while he's still pistoning into you. You feel his other hand move back to under you, helping support you. You dig your hands into the base of his wings, gently tugging and nipping at his ear. He lets out a strangled gasp as his pace falters, getting sloppy. “Gonna fill you up, Babe. Gonna fill you so fucking full,” he growls, biting down on a bruise from earlier, eliciting a mixed cry of pain and pleasure from you. You clench around him as he pulls you down hard, hips stuttering as he groans.
It's quiet, save for the panting coming from you both as you slowly come down from your highs. Adam rubs your hips, kissing the bruises on your neck as you slump on him, hand gently brushing his feathers from where you were gripping them. His wings unfurl from around you, taking their warmth, and causing goosebumps to once again overtake your skin.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips as he lays you down, pulling out with a grunt of dismay. You chuckle softly, eyes closing when he lays your head on your pillow. You feel him messing with the collar, can hear the clasp as he undoes it, but you can't be bothered to make a move to assist him. You hear him laugh as he pulls the clasp end, the leather warming your neck as it pulls across your bare skin. You feel the bed dip as he shifts down towards the foot, repeating the motions for both ankle braces that once held the spreader bar.
When he looks back at you, he notices the gentle rise and fall of your chest, signaling you're asleep. He sighs, heading to the bathroom to clean himself and get you a warm washcloth. He steps into the bathroom and grabs the gold washcloth, turning on the tap, waiting for it to warm up. Once he's satisfied with the temperature, he lets the cloth fully soak before wringing it out and returning to you after shutting off the tap. He tries to ask you if you'd be ok with him gently cleaning you. When you don't answer, he snorts out a laugh and gently nudges your legs apart, trying to be as gentle as possible. He tosses the rag into the hamper against the wall, climbing into bed beside you. He tugs you close, slightly surprised when you roll onto his chest. He hums and cradles your head, pressing a kiss to your crown and snapping a blanket over you both.
“Goodnight, sleep well, my Angel,” he says, wings spreading wide and curling them around you.
___________________________________________
(Oh, did you think it was done? Oh no, Sweetheart, there's more. 😘)
The sound of knocking rouses you from your slumber. You groan and nuzzle into the warmth below you, trying to ignore the sound, hoping if you don't answer, whoever it is will go away. The door opening has your eyes snapping open. You move to push yourself up, but two arms wrap around you, keeping you in place. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. With your back to the door and being trapped under Adam's arms, you won't be able to fight back. A familiar shadow pushes open the cracked door, letting out a sigh at the sight of you. Lute pinches the bridge of her nose as she steps over to the bed, prying Adam's arms off you. She glances at you without a word, eyes trailing from your neck to your back. She crawls onto the bed, fingers quickly unlocking the brace holding your wings.
A gasp escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as you are finally able to move your wings. They're stiff as can be and they kind of hurt from being forced straight for the night. Lute sighs, holding out a hand for you. You take it hesitantly, but curiosity gets the better of you. You trust her, even if you're at your most vulnerable, and nude, in front of your lieutenant. She pulls you off the bed, towards the bathroom where she quickly starts a bath, getting the water set to the perfect temperature.
“Get in,” she orders quietly, sitting on the side of the tub. You blink, tilting your head as you obey her without question, the fire of the last month extinguished with last night's much needed treatment.
“Join me?” you ask, stepping over the side and sitting in the water with her help, wings folding close to your sides. She stares at you before nodding subtly. You watch as she strips and sets her clothes on the counter, grabbing two towels, resting them on the side of the tub.
“Turn around, I'll help you preen,” she offers, stepping into the large tub, sitting behind you. You turn your back to her, head slumping forward as she deftly runs her fingers through your feathers, straightening those that are crooked or twisted. You shudder as her hands work your feathers, and you can't help the whimper that you let out as she continues preening your wings for you. If she heard you, she doesn't say, so you don't mention it, trying to focus on anything else besides the feeling of your feathers being messed with. You grip the side of the tub when you feel her hands massaging the spines of your wings. The warmth from the water and the massage help make them feel a bit better.
“Thank you.” You know you don't have to say it, but you also know it's appreciated. “And, I'm sorry. For being a brat and for taking out my frustration on the other exorcists,” you start to ramble, eyes blurry as tears threatening to fall. Lute spins you around, gently cradling your chin in her hand, forcing you to look her in the eye.
“You're good now? Not going to be trying to harm our exorcists?” When you nod in agreement, she gives you a small smile, a rare gesture she keeps reserved for those close to her. “Good. Once you're done here, meet me at the compound,” she continues, stepping out and wrapping one of the towels around herself. You deadpan.
“You mean I still gotta meet you for those morning trainings?” You whine, eyes following your superior. She sends you a wink, leaning over the side of the tub so she's at eye level.
“Absolutely. Just because you got off the hook easily with Adam, doesn't mean I'm not going to punish you too,” she chides playfully, pressing a swift peck to your lips as she slips her clothes back on. “I'll see you at the compound in twenty minutes.”
She's gone before you can protest. You drop your hands into the water, groaning as you realize just how much of a mess you've made with being a brat.
Fuck! I still have to go apologize to Saint Peter too, you sink into the water, not looking forward to your day.
Taglist: @miss-menhera @fizzy-fuzz @atttwoood
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yanderemommabean · 4 months
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Sooo thinking about gojo who is watching reader through a secret cam everyday. He acts like the sweetest, goofiest guy ever but he is worse.
Gojo just adores when you try to lie to him. It’s a sick thrill he gets, really, knowing what you’re actually up to but asking you to your face regardless, watching as you lie so smoothly through your teeth. He’ll ask what you were up to the night before, maybe even when you decide to “head to bed early” to check in on you, and you lie, say you were tired, say you needed some time to think about work and the upcoming projects. 
He knows what you really do though. He loves that he’s the only one who gets to see it to, like you two are bonded in this sense as you share your most intimate fantasies. 
The cameras don’t lie, he watches with perverted and rapt attention when he sees the footage of you beginning to slide your cute night shorts down. A bit earlier than your usual nights but if he’s right, last night's indulgence was  more to relieve stress than being horny. What a shame…See if you’d let him into your home, into your arms, he’d make sure that stress would be milked out of you session after session. He has quite the stamina you know? 
That was earlier this morning when he spent a bit longer getting ready, watching you and your seductive ritual. Now he’s with the group, wondering if any of them know what a needy little minx you actually are, and if they do know, they won’t be around much longer. 
He wets his lips, watching your mouth move as you speak to him about what you were going over last night, but all he can picture is how you throw your head back, how your moans sound when desperate and reaching that peak, wondering what you taste like, what you feel like, how you’d claw his back and beg for him to pump you full of his spend so you never forget how he loves you, and how you belong only to him. 
“Gojo did you hear me?” “Hmm? Yeah, just thinking it over is all” He comments casually, watching as the others roll their eyes, not believing a word. 
You do the same, just more playfully, going back to telling the story of what happened at the gas station last night before you got home. Interesting for sure, it’s not everyday that a fight that big breaks out and it isn’t even curse related, but all he can picture is how your ass looks when you’re on all fours and fingering yourself within an inch of your life, arching and moaning, taunting him to just break his vow and his code. 
Honestly, you're a cruel tease, and you don’t even know it. Gojo wants so badly to sink his teeth into your skin, mark everywhere from that tender neck to your sensitive thighs and especially that delicious ass of yours. 
He has to will the blood away, feeling his cock filling out and trying to stand erect in his pants.It’ll be fine, when he gets home he’ll just switch to the live feed and watch you, be you lounging around in those sleep pants, cooking and being a cute little chef, or blessing him with yet another show with your body completely bare to his hungry and starving gaze. 
“Ugh, Lunch breaks over huh? Well I’ll catch you guys later” Gojo says, standing up and making sure his glasses were perched better on his nose. Oh he wouldn’t waste a second of watching you walk away, that smile, those hips, those legs-They’re all something he wants to claim. 
Most importantly, he wants to claim you. And he’s getting there. Maybe he can convince you to accept yet another gift of his? A cute little shower soap holder shaped like a turtle, that of course, does a bit more than bring the room together. 
(-Mommabean. Hi! I hope you enjoyed!)
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lalal-99 · 3 months
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Sweet Thing {s.c.}
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9 “ That feels good…” 14 “Spread your legs, sweet thing.” 33 “Please, just let me come!"
Changbin x afab!reader | trope: strangers to lovers, regular hookup turns serious | smut | wordcount: 1.8k
Synopsis: You know nothing about the hot guy you've been hooking up with for months. You're not even sure about his name. Obviously, you need to change that. In the middle of sex is probably not the right time, but so what?!
Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18
Smut Tags: Porn with Plot | Explicit Sexual Content | Making Out | Hook-up in Bathroom | Bathroom Sex | Fingering (reader rec.) | Oral (reader rec.) | Edging | Overstimulation | Teasing | Some Dirty Talk | Slight Praise Kink | Dom/Sub Undertones (Dom!Changbin) | Mirror Sex
Note: Well, I don't know what to say for myself. The prompt event happened in March/April 2022. And here I am, 2 years later. Some requested prompts are still in my inbox, and I do think I will write something for each eventually. For now, please enjoy this one :) Also, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due ;)
Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness
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“Spread your legs, sweet thing.”
Against every fibre in your body, you disobey and further the distance to the unbelievably attractive man instead. Much to his dismay.
“Hey,” he tilts your gaze towards himself by the touch of your jaw. A sweet gesture, seeing you were heavily making out seconds before. “What’s going on?”
Hidden away in the small bathroom of your favourite bar, you find yourself perched on the counter. Most definitely the product of the alcohol intoxicating your system.
“Sorry—” you excuse yourself, wiping your hands down the sides of face. “I’m good. Let’s keep going.”
Expecting him to continue where you had left of, you’re surprised to find him leaning against the wall. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that stunning head of yours.”
A light blush spreads over your cheeks towards your ears and your lip wanders between your teeth. Because the reason for your distraction is so stupid.
“It’s just, we’ve been doing this for a while.” Hooking up at this very bar every weekend for the past few months. For the life of you, you can’t remember how it even started. Possibly with a conversation and his hand on your thigh. Probably with a few shots while celebrating your birthday. “And I don’t know anything about you.”
“Which hasn’t been a problem until now. So, where’s this coming from?”
The first few times were fun. Hooking up in the bathroom, words limited to the absolute necessary. If anything, it made it even hotter. Being with a stranger whose name you hardly remember. But then the comments started. You don’t know which of your friend was the first to say something. It might have been Seungmin, questioning how you could keep hooking up weekly without knowing the first thing about him.
And now you can’t shake the comment out of you if you try. The voice is a constant tenant of your metaphorical head-apartment. Living rent-free.
“My friends. They’ve been asking questions about you. None of which I can answer.” Which is stupid, because it shouldn’t matter. What matters is the incredibly handsome and muscular guy in front of you. Changbin— you think.
You’re surprised when he doesn’t laugh at or dismiss their concern. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Cocking an eyebrow, you look down at his hands as they begin travelling up your thighs again. Leaving goosebumps as they burn into your skin.
“Do what?”
“Get to know each other. Might as well play 21 questions while we’re at it.”
His lips brush against your jaw before he urges them against your neck. Checking the quickening of your pulse as he licks at the veins.
“Come on. Hit me.”
But you can’t think. His touches are a true distraction, moans tumbling out of your mouth as you finally spread your legs for him. He slots between them, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle.
“You do know how 21 questions works, right?”
His hands grope at your flesh, pulling you closer until you can feel him against your most sensitive part. Why’d you have to speak up? He could have been inside you by now, but you had to open your stupid mouth.
“Yeah— Just— Can’t think.”
“Fine,” he gives in, pulling at your lip as he kisses you. You’re so hot, you wonder whether you’re nursing a fever. “I’ll tell you three things about me, then. Speed things up. ‘S that alright?”
“Please.” You’re begging now, nails digging into the skin of his bulky arms as he’s dragging his clothed crotch against you. “Feels so good.”
“First one.” Changbin pulls your top up over your breasts, freeing your bra. His thick fingers brush against your nipples, forcing a shudder through your body. “I go to the gym five times a week.”
“Obvious—ngh,” you agree turns into a throaty moan as he nibbles at your left breast. Your panties soaked already as you mumble into the night. “Deeper.”
“I’m not even inside you yet.” His chuckle vibrates through your torso. Then he grazes his teeth against your second nipple, and you might as well have lost your head.
“No. Tell me— fuck— tell something deeper. Something not— not everyone knows.”
You’re entering heaven when his hand wanders down your side and towards the hem of your skirt. It wiggles below the fabric, setting flames to your loins. You’re burning from the inside out as this stranger handles your body like he created it himself. Knows how to make you go absolutely insane. And that’s with his clothes still on.
“I call my mom every day.” That definitely fits the category of deep talk. Although, the thought of Changbin’s mother doesn’t exactly fit the moment. “Number three, I’d like to take you out one of these days.”
When the tip of his thumb reaches for your clit, you see the realisation hit his features in real time. You’ve ruined your panties and he can feel it. He has ruined you, and he can see it. From your rolled-back eyes to your tossed-back head. You’re in absolute ecstasy.
Changbin thumbs at your nub, drawing circles with your own wetness. Smirking with pride like a lunatic.
“Your turn, sweet thing. Three things about you, then you get to come.”
No words describe the hatred you feel for yourself when you realise he’s serious. The trajectory of earning your orgasm is as much arousing as it is frustrating. If only you hadn’t said a thing.
“I’m—” You tumble forward as his middle finger enters you. And him? He cocks his head at you, playing confused.
“Sorry? I don’t understand you. Can you speak up?”
Asshole.
“Music,” you mumble, breathless. “I like music. Listening. Making.”
“That’s one. You’re doing so good for me.” A kiss swallows the whine as he enters another finger. Your walls are clenching around him as his thumb practically attacks your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and Changbin knows. “I tell you what. Give me a second, and I’ll give you a third. Sound good?”
You nod, frantic, needing—nay, craving—another one of his fingers.
“I’m good— good at— oh, God.” Hands are clawing at his shirt, the black and red fabric almost ripping from the strength he ignites in you. Your stomach is tensing tight, and he slows down. It’s an alarming promise, Changbin threatening to leave you high and dry if you don’t give him another one. A second fact about yourself. “Maths. I’m good at maths.”
You’re all but howling when he enters a third finger and curls them up against your spot. That’s when you loose the rest of control over your body. None of your movements are under your own command anymore, Changbin’s the sole reason you’re even still sitting upright.
“That’s two. I thought you were good at maths. You’re one short of earning my mouth, sweet thing.”
The promise alone almost makes you fall of the edge. His mouth on you. Coaxing you to your sweet, sweet release. It’s not far, but Changbin is the only one who can make you reach it. You don’t doubt he’ll leave you on the edge if you don’t give him a third fact.
It’s unfortunate that you can’t form coherent sentences anymore. Let alone think of a third fact about yourself. Absolutely pathetic.
“Please—” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stare up at him, begging, pleading. “Please, just let me come.”
“Nuh-uh,” he teases with a smirk. A soft kiss hits your nose, then your lips. “That’s not a fact, sweet thing. Don’t you want to come on my tongue?”
Again, the thought alone has you clenching on his fingers. You’re so full, so close, and yet, can’t think of anything.
Maybe if you copy one of his facts, he won’t notice, right? But what was it he said? Oh, right. Gym, mom, date. But, you don’t go to the gym and you don’t talk to your mom daily.
“So, what is it?”
“Date!” you blurt out and he looks confused. “Take me out.” But that’s a prompt, not a fact, so you correct even further, teetering on the edge of heaven and hell. “I’d like it, I mean.”
Changbin debates for a second whether your words count as a fact. You can tell he wants to tease you some more, relishes in it. Thank God, he decides against it.
A sigh of relief escapes you when he finally leans down, pushes your skirt up and connects his lips to yours. And that’s all it takes.
One second his tongue prods against your clit, the next you’re coming on it.
And come, you do. You’re sure you’re squirting all over his face as he swallows up every bit of your release. Cleans you with his mouth until you’re glistening in spit and overstimulation. It doesn’t seem he wants to leave the space between your thighs and you have to drag him away when it becomes too much.
“Sweet, sweet thing,” he teases with a smile when he comes up, licking his lips. His hair is a mess, likely from your hands tugging at the strands and he looks like sex-on-legs. Cheeks dark pink, lips just as, and eyes blurry from arousal. He’s so, so hot, and you’re heating up again already as he’s kissing your lips with pure passion. “So, about that date…”
“Name a place and a time. I’ll be there.”
He chuckles, pulling you from the counter and turning you around. You will never tire from him, treating you like a doll. Bending and breaking you as he pleases. Those damn muscles flex as his arms wrap around your body and he pushes you up against the sink.
“We’ll get there. In fact…” he pulls your skirt over your asscheeks, giving them a delicious squeeze as he hums. Next thing you know, he frees his cock, reaching into his jeans to pull out a condom. And you wonder how Changbin is still so hot while wrapping himself in the latex. “How about you come three more times.”
You gulp at the thought, finding him in the mirror.
“One for a time and one for a place.”
That’s only two. You’re good at maths, or at least you think you are. Changbin might have fucked that brain right out of you.
“And the last one— one— fuck, you’re tight,” he praises as he enters you from behind.
Once he bottoms out, he collects himself, flicking your nipples as he watches you through the glass. And yet again, you’re a chaotic mess in his hands. With your head thrown back against his chest, you’re sent straight back to your own personal nirvana.
That’s when Changbin finishes his prior statement, a proud smirk glued to his face. “The last one’s simply for good measure.”
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Masterlist Leave your thoughts!
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megalony · 3 months
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My Warning
This is a protective Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I loved writing this and hope you will all like it too. Feedback is always amazing.
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Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) doesn't want to worry Eddie about their neighbour who seems a little too interested in her. But when the neighbour takes things too far, Eddie loses his temper.
Enjoy.
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A quiet hum vibrated at the back of (Y/n)'s throat as she tied her hair up whilst nodding her head along to the music playing on the radio.
Her arms froze mid-air and a gasp tumbled past her lips when a pair of strong hands cup her hips. She smiled when she felt his lips merge against the side of her neck and she closed her eyes, feeling her lips curve up into a smirk. She hadn't heard Eddie come in. He had stayed deathly quiet and managed to sneak his way into the bedroom without alerting her.
"What're you doing?" Her voice was quiet and raspy but she knew exactly what her husband was doing when she felt his fingertips move up until he had hold of the bottom of her shirt. He dragged it up so his hands could slide beneath her shirt and worm around to her stomach with his elbows pinned into her sides.
"Helping you," He murmured into her neck and gave her shirt another tug until she had to let him pull it over her head.
"And how is this helping me? I'll just have to get dressed again soon." He wasn't exactly helping when (Y/n) would have to go and pick Chris up for school in an hour. Undressing her was only going to give her more work to do.
She slowly turned around in his arms, looking him up and down while he stared down at her.
"Why don't I help you instead?" After all, Eddie was the one who had just been at work and he was still in his work gear. He needed to get changed, not her.
(Y/n) dragged her fingertips up his shirt until she was holding the top button and started to undo them, slowly working her way down. With every button she popped free, she leaned close and placed a butterfly kiss down each exposed part of his chest.
It didn't take long until her lips were hovered over the waistband of his jeans but she couldn't move her hands to his belt quick enough. He bent his knees and leaned down and in one swift motion, Eddie had his left arm bound around the back of (Y/n)'s thighs and he lifted her up off her feet. Her arms coiled around his neck and her legs looped around his back so she was perched low on his torso, feeling his belt rubbing against her thighs.
Her chest shuddered when Eddie placed her down on the dressing table behind her and pressed up between her legs that she kept looped around his hips.
Eddie kept one arm around her waist and moved the other to cup the back of (Y/n)'s neck, tilting her head back so she was looking up at him. He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips, then another and another until he felt her thighs squeeze around his hips.
"Missed you," He murmured softly against her lips, stealing another deep kiss when her hands cupped his jaw to pull him closer.
"Hm, I couldn't tell." (Y/n) bit down on his lip when he slapped her thigh playfully.
She felt his hands wriggle their way round to the back of her jeans and he managed to slip his fingers beneath them, making her gasp at his cold touch. She smoothed her thumb up and down his jaw when Eddie leaned to attach his lips back to her neck and she grinned when his teeth grazed her skin. He was going to mark her up. Again.
Just as (Y/n) went to close her eyes, she tilted her head to the right when something caught her attention.
Her body stiffened and her arms suddenly looped very tightly around the back of Eddie's neck until she was almost strangling him. She felt a shiver crawl down her spine and her breath got caught in her lungs when she looked out the window.
He was watching.
"What?" Eddie spoke breathlessly against her neck and dragged his nose along her chin as he lifted his head to look at her. He felt the way she tightened around him and suddenly tensed and he wondered if he'd done something. But when (Y/n) moved her hand back to the side of his face and smiled, he relaxed a little more.
"You know the bed's right over there, don't you?" (Y/n) tried to keep her eyes on Eddie, but she was desperate to look back at the window on her right and see if she was just being paranoid.
(Y/n) didn't like their neighbour.
When they lived back in Texas, they only had one close neighbour and she had been a lovely older woman who had adored Chris. And she had been so sweet when Eddie offered to do the odd jobs around her house and garden for her. Moving to LA had been the right choice for them all, but the one downside was their neighbour on the left.
Lewis. He seemed a little too interested in (Y/n) and at first, she thought she was imagining things. But he never tried to make conversation with Eddie, he didn't bother with him or even look his way. When (Y/n) walked out the house, Lewis was somehow always in the garden. He would chat up a storm and if he saw her in the back garden he always wandered outside.
She saw him in the shops, down the street and every time she left the house, Lewis was somewhere nearby. It was unnerving, but not as worrying as seeing him right now.
He wasn't even in his house. He was stood in his garden, presumably tending to the flowers, but (Y/n) wasn't so sure. She could see him staring directly into the window even from this distance and he could see them.
"Hm, but the vanity was closer." Eddie retorted before he took (Y/n)'s lower lip between his teeth and gave a sharp bite.
"If you want me, take me to bed." Her quiet, sultry voice was enough to make something dark flash across Eddie's eyes.
Within a second, his hands were back on her thighs and he tugged her back onto his hips and lifted her up. Her wish was his command. He turned around, his lips meshed with hers, and walked over to the other side of the room towards the bed. He swallowed the gasp (Y/n) let out when he leaned her back and flopped her down onto the bed and laid on top of her, resting comfortably between her thighs.
The bed was in the corner of the room. There wasn't a window near the bed. No risk of any neighbour peering through and catching more than a bird's eye view of the couple.
(Y/n) felt a big urge to go over and close the curtain, but she didn't want to risk looking at Lewis and letting him know she knew he was watching. It felt safer to pretend she hadn't seen.
And it wasn't as if she could tell Eddie either. Eddie wouldn't close the curtain, if he looked and saw a neighbour practically spying on them, he would go out and start a fight. (Y/n) didn't want that. She wasn't causing any trouble and she wanted Eddie to stay right where he was, between her legs.
"Eager?" She could feel the hand at the back of her neck tightening until his fingertips were scratching and tangling against her hair. He tilted her head back so she was staring up at him and leaned down and devour her lips. "Well then, I think you need help getting out of these,"
Eddie didn't even realise her hands had moved down to his belt until he heard the pin popping out and realised she had undone the buckle. He watched her yank them down to his knees and let him lean on her to kick them off to the floor. A smirk curved at his lips when he felt her legs coil around his waist and he felt the heels of her feet dig into his lower back, pulling him down to her.
His lips attached to her neck but he made a very fast path down her neck and between her cleavage, grinning into her skin when he felt her chest suck inwards and noticed how she held her breath, waiting for his next move.
(Y/n) didn't realise she had closed her eyes until it felt like stars were glistening behind her eyelids. She could feel him biting a bruise into her skin before he tilted his chin down a little more so his nose brushed against the dark mark he'd created as if he was making it better.
Her hand moved to tangle in Eddie's hair, something she knew would make him groan if she gave the slightest tug on his roots.
She didn't see the way his smirk turned into something darker and she didn't notice his hand move down from the back of her neck.
His fingers hooked in the waistband of her jeans and he made quick work of inching off the bed so he could drag her jeans down her legs and throw them onto the floor. Out of sight and out of mind until (Y/n) would need to get dressed again to go get Chris from school.
(Y/n) opened her eyes and stared down at Eddie with a raised brow when he hooked his index finger around the top of her underwear and clenched it in his fists. Her lips pursed and she shook her head only to have Eddie grin like a shark.
"Don't you dare rip them."
Eddie tilted his head to the side as if he had just been challenged. His eyes stayed locked with hers while he gave a sharp tug until he heard the satisfying sound of thread stretching and tearing. The lace unravelled and frilled until it was jagged and loose and he could throw the thin stringy material down to the floor.
"Eddie." She moaned as she tossed her head back on the bed with a sigh. "And I wonder why my underwear drawer is always empty. I'll have none left soon."
He seemed to have a thing for tearing her lingerie, especially her red laced ones. It was as if Eddie saw it as a game and (Y/n) was now running out of any sort of underwear with how badly Eddie tore them off every time he wanted his way with her. She was down to her last few good pairs and they both knew it.
"I'll buy you some more, baby." He promised with a kiss against her inner thigh that made her take a deep breath.
Her eyes flickered back to the window and a spark of adrenaline coursed through her stomach. They couldn't be seen on the bed. She was sure of that. And when Eddie began kissing his way up her thigh, she closed her eyes and tangled her fingers in his hair, too pent up to give it another thought.
They were busy.
***
"Mum." Chris reached his hand out and curled his fingers around (Y/n)'s arm, pausing his footsteps when he realised his mum wasn't looking where she was going. He frowned and pushed up into her side as (Y/n) stumbled off the curb, barely regaining her balance and saving herself from a fall.
(Y/n) snapped her head back and looked forward, wincing when a twinge rolled up her ankle but when she looked down at Chris she quickly smiled.
"Sorry baby, I wasn't looking. Come on." She nudged his arm with her elbow and they crossed the road onto the next path.
They had taken a walk to the shop on their way home from school. When it was a sunny day (Y/n) always walked Chris to and from school rather than driving him since it wasn't too far and it got them both out exercising.
But she just wanted to get home today.
They were being followed.
(Y/n) snook another glance over her shoulder and felt her heart drop down to her stomach like a stone when she locked her eyes on him again. Lewis. Their neighbour.
She wasn't sure if he followed her from home to the school, she hadn't paid much notice. But once (Y/n) started walking Chris to the shop, she looked back and was horror-stricken to find Lewis a few yards behind them. He hadn't been in the shop and (Y/n) relaxed, they went round getting some essentials and sweets and Chris got a new magazine. But the moment they got out the shop and carried on walking, she saw him again.
He was walking close behind them now and (Y/n) was glad Chris didn't tend to look over his shoulder or he would have noticed and thought it was strange to see their neighbour behind them.
(Y/n) could feel Chris speeding up beside her when they turned the last corner and got back onto their street. They were so close to home now. She kept up pace with him and felt like breaking out into a run just to get away from Lewis.
(Y/n) did her best to avoid talking to him. She hurried out the house now whenever she had to leave. She sped into her car or bolted down the street and pretended not to hear him when he called out to her. But every time he talked to her, Lewis would get closer and closer and try to reach out for her and now he was less than ten yards away as she walked her son home.
Something didn't feel right about him to (Y/n).
"Is dad home?" Chris perked up and sped up, clutching his magazine tighter to his chest when he peered down the street. He could feel (Y/n) leaning into his side as she tried to scour down the street too.
"Oh, I think he is." A smile flooded (Y/n)'s face when she saw Eddie's jeep in the drive. He was home early. He had been out for lunch and drinks with the team after his shift today.
If Eddie was home, (Y/n) would feel less panicked about having Lewis follow her and Chris. He never tried to approach (Y/n) or hang around when Eddie was home, he made it his mission to avoid Eddie at all costs and that was sometimes a relief.
(Y/n) smiled as Chris bolted ahead, making his way down the street to go and find his dad. He had lost a lot of energy at school today but now with a magazine in hand and his dad clearly home early, he perked right back up again.
She tried to speed up a little too, both to keep Chris in her sights, race home to Eddie and get away from Lewis all at once.
It didn't work. One of the bags in her hand broke. It was as if the world knew she was panicking and decided to delay her even more. The plastic bag split, spilling a carton of juice onto the pavement along with a bunch of bananas and a wad of kitchen roll.
"Fuck." Dumping the other bag on the floor, (Y/n) bent down and shook the bag of bananas before placing it in the other bag. She scrunched up the busted carton and the kitchen roll and wrapped them back up in the broken bag. It was a tempting thought to leave everything on the floor and just run, but she couldn't.
"(Y/n), let me give you a hand."
She cringed and swallowed down a groan when she heard Lewis and his fast footsteps approach. She looped the good bag over her wrist and grabbed the broken one but her body tensed when she felt his hand curl tightly around her arm just as she tried to stand up.
"Oh, hi Lewis. I've got it, thanks." (Y/n) nodded and tried to pull her elbow out of his grasp but he tightened his grip and stood closer.
He stood so close (Y/n) could smell his cologne and she could feel his chest pressing up into her left arm. If she turned her head a little further to the left they would almost be touching. His face was so close she could feel each deep breath he took and it made her squirm.
"I thought it was you." He grinned a wide, toothy smile as he tucked his free hand into his pocket and tilted his head, visibly raking his eyes up and down her frame.
Suddenly, (Y/n) wished she hadn't chosen to wear a dress today. She wished she'd gone with a pair of jeans and one of Eddie's loose fitting shirts, it would have felt safer.
"I- I have to go let Chris in the house." She didn't. If Eddie was home Chris would already be inside, but Lewis didn't need to know that and (Y/n) needed an excuse.
She wriggled her arm out of his grasp and tried to smile but his next words made her want to cry. "I'll walk with you."
Of course he would. He lived next door. What was (Y/n) supposed to say? No? How could she say no and even if she did, how would it work when he needed to walk in the same direction?
With a forced smile, (Y/n) hummed and looked ahead as she started up a fast pace. Only a few more metres and they would be at Lewis's house and (Y/n) could say a fast goodbye and run into her own home. She could find her boys and go inside and feel safe. Get away from her all too friendly neighbour. She could feel him keeping up with her fast pace and going any faster would cause (Y/n) to run. She just wanted to get home.
"What's the rush? Let me help you in with the bags, we can have a drink together. Just you and me."
There was nothing (Y/n) would hate more than having a drink with Lewis without anyone else around. And what did he think she was going to do? Send Chris to his room or leave Chris home alone and come round next door to have a drink with Lewis? How delusional could he be?
"Oh, Eddie's home." She feigned surprise and nodded towards Eddie's jeep but her blood ran cold when she felt Lewis wrap his arm around her waist just as they reached his house. His hand gripped her hip tightly like a viper sinking its teeth into her skin and it made her wince. But the feel of his arm pressing into her back made her squirm and when he moved his hand down, (Y/n) shuddered and pushed her elbow into his abdomen.
She stumbled forward just as Lewis tried to guide her towards his home instead of her own.
"Come on sweetheart-"
"No." Her voice was firm but she could feel tears in her eyes when he reached back out for her and she knew his hand was trying to grab the hem of her dress.
Her knees started to shake and she couldn't feel her hands anymore as she rushed down the drive, past Eddie's jeep and stumbled through the front door. The moment she was inside, (Y/n) slumped the bag down onto the floor and threw the broken bag as far down the hall as she could. Watching with a grimace as she crumpled, leaking juice carton bounced off the laminate floor.
"Did we have an accident?" Eddie nudged the broken bag with his foot and raised a brow as he saw the squashed, split carton. He could easily guess what happened with the bag.
But when he raised his head and looked towards the front door, his brows furrowed and a jolt of panic burst to life in his chest.
"Mi amor, you okay? What's wrong?"
Eddie jogged down the hall towards (Y/n) with wide eyes and his hands held out towards her. She was leaning back against the door, her arms curved around her chest that was quaking and her eyes were shut tight.
He gingerly rested his hands on her arms but he was taken back by how suddenly (Y/n) pushed forward into his chest. Her face buried in his shoulder and her arms looped around his neck, almost suffocating him instantly.
"What's wrong?" He tangled his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he leaned to softly kiss her neck. Chris hadn't mentioned anything happening on their walk home and he always told Eddie if something was wrong and he reeled off every aspect of his day when he got home.
"I- I just feel dizzy." She wasn't technically lying. Spots were dancing across her vision and her shaky, shallow breaths were making her lightheaded.
"Okay, hey I've got you." Eddie kissed her neck again before he looped his right arm around the back of her thighs and carefully lifted her up. He smiled into her neck when she curved her legs around his hips and clung to him even tighter as if she thought he was about to let her go. He carried her effortlessly down the hall and into the front room, keeping his lips against her neck the whole time.
She could feel the panic starting to die down already. But she couldn't have any more run-ins with the neighbour. If this kept happening either Eddie or Chris were bound to notice.
***
(Y/n) stepped out the bathroom and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as a wave of cold air hit her and the steam from the bathroom circled round her head. She could feel her damp hair sticking to the back of her neck and she held her towel tighter to her chest as she wandered down the hall towards the bedroom.
Her free hand moved to tangle through her hair, ridding the knots as she nudged the bedroom door open and padded across towards the dresser.
She could hear how loudly Eddie had the tv on in the living room as the sound drifted all through the house towards their bedroom at the back.
She had been rather surprised she managed to get a shower without Eddie sneaking in with her. But to be fair, when (Y/n) headed into the shower Eddie was still outside adding air to the jeep tyres.
(Y/n) found her brush on the dresser and turned to the side, about to walk across to the bed where she had laid her clothes out. But something made her pause. She wasn't sure what it was or why, but her head slowly tilted to the right and glanced towards the curtains.
They weren't shut. One curtain was part-way across but the majority of the window was still visible. Their bedroom was at the back of the house facing the side of the garden, there was never any risk of someone passing by and peering in, the same as their old house back in Texas.
But (Y/n) could feel all the blood draining down to her toes and her lungs tightened when she looked out.
He was watching. Again.
Lewis was stood out in the garden, staring directly across into the window. He wasn't even trying to hide it. What the Hell did he think he was doing? Why was he still watching, why hadn't be turned away already? Did he want to make it plainly obvious that he was watching her?
Her hand tightened around her towel and she took a step back but every part of her started to shake when she watched what he did next.
"Eddie!"
Tears welled up in her eyes and she stumbled over near the bed, gasping for air as she screamed his name at the top of her voice to make sure there was no doubt of him not hearing her.
His name tore from her lips again even when she heard his loud footsteps stomping down the hall. His hand bashed into the door and he flung it open, breathing harshly as he looked around the room to find the source of his wife's panic. She didn't usually scream out for him like that and he had only just heard her come out the bathroom. What had happened in less than a minute for her to scream out for him?
"What, baby what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Eddie reached out for her and he would of pulled (Y/n) into his chest and look her over for injuries, but she didn't give him the chance. Her free hand curled around his arm and she moved behind him like there was some invisible threat in the room he couldn't see.
"Talk to me, baby what's happened?" He could feel how badly she was shaking against him and he reached his hand round to hold her arm for comfort when he realised she was almost in tears.
"He- he's at the window!"
"Who?!" Panic burned in Eddie's eyes as his jaw clenched and he took two daring steps towards the window when (Y/n) pointed.
Confusion tore through him as he peered through the window and realised who was there. Part of Eddie had been expecting someone to be stood in their garden, directly in front of the bedroom window. Not Lewis stood in his own garden, but leaning straight over the fence, not hiding the fact that he was staring into their home. Their bedroom.
Eddie stretched his left hand out until he had hold of (Y/n)'s shoulder and he pushed her back towards the bed to make sure she wasn't in sight of the window.
"Has he done that before?" Had he stared into their house before? Was this a coincidence or was he staring because he knew (Y/n) would be getting dressed? Eddie needed to know if this was a coincidence or if he had to go out there and have a word with their so-called neighbour.
"Eddie he just t-took a picture of me." (Y/n) started to shake and she curled her hand around his wrist, pulling his arm into her chest as tears welled up in her eyes.
She might not have shouted for Eddie if all Lewis did was stare. If he stared at her and said or did nothing, (Y/n) would have drawn the curtain and brushed it off. She would have stayed feeling uncomfortable and the next time she saw Lewis, she would try and say something.
But when he took out his phone and took a picture, (Y/n) couldn't hide that. She couldn't have the creep next door going round with a picture of her on his phone. A picture of her, wearing nothing but a skimpy towel wrapped around her damp frame. And if she didn't tell Eddie, what would stop Lewis from showing that picture off or telling Eddie to try and cause trouble or flaunt it at him?
(Y/n) could see the fury burning deep within Eddie's eyes that raked up and down her frame.
That wasn't a mistake. Taking a photo of Eddie's wife like that was not a mistake and Eddie wouldn't let him get away with it.
"He… he followed me and Chris home the other day, b…but he's never taken a picture."
Panic swirled deep in (Y/n)'s stomach as adrenaline flushed up throughout her chest when Eddie pulled his arm out of her grip away from her chest. She thought for a moment that he was angry with her, but he moved his hand to hold her waist as he leaned over her. His chest pressed into hers and tilted her back so he could reach behind her and grab her clothes off the bed.
She let him steer her towards the door and walk her out into the hall but she frowned when he moved her in the direction of the bathroom. Eddie passed the clothes into her hands.
"Get dressed."
"Wh- baby what are you gonna do?" (Y/n) held her clothes against her chest, pinning them and the towel in place although she didn't need to anymore. She was stood in the doorway of the bathroom, no windows nearby for anyone to leer into and the bathroom window was frosted glass.
Her eyes stared up at Eddie in fear. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to stay right here beside her, but (Y/n) knew he wouldn't. She could see the rage boiling over the edge and he needed to go out and sort their neighbour out.
"I'm gonna rip his head off!"
"Eddie- fuck!" Tossing her head back, (Y/n) headed into the bathroom and tossed the clothes down. She had to get dressed. Right now. She needed to hurry and race after Eddie before he did something he shouldn't that would get him arrested.
She had never gotten dressed so quick in her life and it didn't help that when she looked down, her clothes were stuck to her. Her leggings felt like a second skin and the black material was already turning damp around her thighs and her shirt glued to her waist and chest in a way that Eddie would love, but would not appreciate the neighbour seeing.
But (Y/n) didn't have time to dry off properly or change. She bolted out the bathroom, damp hair clinging to her neck and cheeks and she headed out the front door that Eddie had left wide open.
A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when she got outside and realised she hadn't put any shoes on. There wasn't time to go back.
She rounded the end of their drive and swung round to the left just as she watched Eddie slam the side gate open and storm down the side of Lewis's garden by the house.
"Oh, hey Eddie-"
"Hi? Hi? You're really giving me pleasantries after what I've just seen you do?" Eddie reached out and curled his hands around the collar of Lewis's shirt and yanked him closer until their noses were almost touching and he had Lewis leaning on his tiptoes to stay level.
He was really going to try and play this off and pretend Eddie didn't know what he had been doing two minutes ago? He thought Eddie was going to come round and nicely ask him to stop. He truly didn't think Eddie would lose his temper about this?
"Hi (Y/n)." Something about the way that Lewis said her name made Eddie cringe and he could feel every part of his body shaking with pure rage.
When Lewis leaned over his shoulder to look across at (Y/n), Eddie glanced her way to check she was a safe distance behind him before he pushed Lewis forward.
"Oh no. You're dealing with me now." Turning to the right, Eddie pushed Lewis and slammed him into the wall until his head bounced back off the bricks and made him choke on air.
Lewis wasn't allowed to talk to (Y/n). Eddie didn't want him even looking at his wife. He needed Lewis to understand that Eddie wasn't going to accept this and until that message was imbedded in his mind, Eddie would hurt him. He would use force and violence to get his message across that if Lewis looked or tried to talk to (Y/n), then Eddie would be his worst nightmare.
"You've been following my wife. You've been peering through the window to look at her, and now you're taking fucking pictures. What part of your sick mind thinks I'm gonna let you get away with that?!"
"Eddie he's not worth it." (Y/n) kept her arms bound tight around her waist so Lewis couldn't stare at the way her shirt stuck to her frame and to hug herself until Eddie came back over to her.
She couldn't stand any closer. She didn't want to be within close range of Lewis and if she got closer, Eddie might just explode.
"Then she shouldn't flirt and put on a show for me, should she."
(Y/n) winced and coiled in on herself when she watched Eddie ram his knee up into Lewis's groan before he let go of him and smashed his fist into Lewis's nose. Blood poured down his face and splattered across Eddie's white shirt and all across his knuckles, but he didn't care.
He stood back and let Lewis drop to the floor before he bent down beside him. He leaned over and forced his knee down on the middle of Lewis's chest, applying just enough pressure to make his lungs tense and his ribs ache. And when Lewis was starting to struggle for air, Eddie made it even worse and clenched his hand around his throat and squeezed until he was gasping.
"I'll put this in terms you can understand." Eddie squeezed a little harder until Lewis opened his eyes and looked up at him. "I don't want you going anywhere near my wife again. If you talk to her, come near her or try staring through the windows again, I'll do far worse than this. If you so much as look at my wife, I will break every bone in your body."
He released his hand from Lewis's neck but kept his knee pressed down on his chest. Pinning him in place so he could look around and find the phone Lewis had tried to hide in his pocket.
"And don't you dare think about taking anymore photos. Stay the fuck away from (Y/n)."
Eddie pressed his knee down until Lewis was gasping for air and when he stood up, he shook the phone before he turned and left Lewis laid on the floor. He wasn't getting his phone back. As soon as Eddie deleted that photo, he was smashing the phone to pieces as payback.
He could almost feel the phone crumbling to pieces in his fist as he marched back down the path towards (Y/n). She had her arms around her chest, her head tilted down and she was shaking. Not to mention when Eddie looked down, he realised she was barefoot.
His arm circled around her waist and he reeled her into his chest as he guided her out the garden and back towards their home.
(Y/n) curled her hands around Eddie's arm and held it against her chest, nuzzling her face into his bicep until they got back inside the house.
She went to say something but she stopped when Eddie looked down at the phone and unlocked the camera roll.
Her body shuddered and pushed into Eddie's side when he suddenly slammed the phone down on the floor and smashed the heel of his boot against it. Once. Twice. Five times. Until the phone was nothing but broken pieces of metal and plastic and chips scattered across the floor.
"Eddie…" She reached her shaking hands up around his shoulders and pushed up on her tiptoes until her chest was pressed into his back and her arms were looped around his neck. Her lips attached to the side of his neck where she felt his pulse going mad and his chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath back.
"You should have told me." He tilted is head to the right and looked at (Y/n) when she perched her chin on his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me that creep was following you?"
He would of gone round weeks ago and told that utter creep to stay away from (Y/n) if she had told him. Eddie would have threatened him and kept an eye on him and made sure he wasn't stepping out of line if he'd of known.
Eddie had never had to worry about neighbours before. Back home with his parents they didn't have neighbours close enough to see through windows. Then when he and (Y/n) got their first house together, they only had miss Gracey next door who was a sweet lady they often helped out and took meals round to.
Coming here was different with people so close by but Eddie didn't think anything about their neighbours. He didn't talk to the neighbours, Eddie spent his time at work or inside with his family and with his work hours, he didn't bump into the neighbours when he went out.
"I didn't wanna worry you-"
"Worry me? Baby I'm not worried I'm fucking furious. We've got a little bastard next door thinking he can try and snap photos of you whenever he likes. Now I'm gonna have to keep an eye on him. If he does anything, you tell me, straight away."
Eddie wasn't worried. He was beyond worried, beyond angry and passed infuriated.
Someone had taken a photo of his wife. If (Y/n) didn't look up at the right time or she started to get changed, Lewis would have gotten more than his money's worth and they might not have known about it.
Now Eddie was going to be on edge whenever he saw Lewis outside. He wouldn't want to leave (Y/n) home alone or have her walk Chris home if he was at work. He didn't want to be at work and have Lewis think he could try his luck because Eddie was out. He might have to get a camera to make sure Lewis didn't try anything and to have proof if he did.
"I'm sorry." She pressed her lips against his neck until Eddie turned round in her grip and clamped his hands down on her hips.
His forehead pressed down against hers and he nudged her back until she hit the door.
"Don't apologise for anything that creep's done, it's not your fault. If he doesn't listen to my warning I'll ask Athena to go round and have a word."
"I think he understood."
(Y/n) reached her hands up and cupped Eddie's neck, smiling softly as he leaned down and pressed his lips down on hers like he was suffocating and she was the air he needed to survive.
She doubted Eddie would have to go to Athena about this. He had done a number on Lewis already and that was only a preview of everything Eddie would do to him if he tried anything else. Eddie would start breaking bones if Lewis thought he could get away with this again.
(Y/n) was his world, and he wouldn't have anyone messing with her.
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Text
Alastor - [ ELATION ]
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A/N: This was originally an nsfw quick thought but it spiraled out of control so I guess it's a story sneak peak now?!…
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ]
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You look down on him. Pure joy on your face as he kneels, sitting there at your feet, and all at his will.
It feels so odd but intoxicating. You, so much smaller than him, who can only harness half the power he holds and are seen by everyone as the softest being ever to grace the hotel halls. You, an almost picture-perfect doll many thought fell from heaven, towering over one of the most feared overloads without a hint of fear in you.
Alastor at your whim, willingly, and all because you flattered him with your existence. So polite, so sweet, and so daring. You were fragile and fearless, an ordinary sinner who had him wrapped around her little finger within minutes of your first meeting.
And you knew it.
You knew it and you used it against him shamelessly.
One look from your doe-like eyes and he felt incapable of refusing any wish you asked of him.
It gave you a rush, confidence even, and boosted your hidden ego, knowing you could crumble such a powerful demon to his knees so quickly. The slight smile you'd learned to showcase daily became a grin looking down on him now, in the confines of his room, in the dead of night…
You'd come to him for attention, and though he was busy preparing the script for his next broadcast, he immediately disregarded it as you waltzed into his space.
“Hm, seems you missed me a lot, Al,” you teased him with a giggle, perching yourself on the sofa he'd just been lounging on himself and lowering your gaze as he crouched his taller frame before you.
A true gentleman….acting without being told to.
How sweet….
“My dear,” he addresses you quietly, smile ever present as you tipped his head up with your stocking-clad foot; the soft black fabric reached your thighs, drawing his attention to the exposed skin above it as you playfully nudged his chin to refocus his wandering gaze.
“My eyes are up here, sir. Don't you know it's impolite to gawk at a lady?” You flash a closed-eye smile while chastising him, crossing one leg over the other as he looks upon your face, but he finds it incredibly hard to leave it there as the silk of your nightgown shifts with your every move.
Alastor could easily rip it off, pin you down, and take what he wanted from you.
Use you for all your worth and dare you to run as he did…
He had the power to but basked in your control instead, loving the trivial games you'd play with his undead heart and undeniably amused by your confidence to do so.
You didn't need his affections, his ownership, or permission.
Protection or popularity wasn't your prerogative either…
You needed nothing from the feared Radio Demon…
Not a single thing…
But you would damn sure take everything from him.
“What is it that you desire, sweetheart? Tell me, and it's yours…” Alastor felt his chest lose all its air as you giggled again, humming quietly, hearing his offer and only answering him when you'd taken an excellent, sultry look at him.
“Anything?” you question him, reaching out to gently pet his ears, brushing the same delicate fingers through his town-toned hair a couple of times before tracing over his hidden antlers. Alastor felt an invisible shiver rack his body as you toyed with the familiar areas, aware of their sensitivity but selfishly stimulating them to get his reactions.
“Anything…you want..” the stag groaned lowly, smile growing tight as you massage his right ear before switching to the other and using that hold to drag him closer while uncrossing your legs. He obediently leaned in, the subtle scent of your aroused heat stirring a dormant hunger in him instantly and the plushness of your thighs fitting perfectly into his clawed hands as he reached for you.
You moaned quietly as he dragged his claws over your skin, careful not to rip your stockings, panting heavily against your clothed cunt like a starved man.
It'd been days since he last tasted you, had his fill of your cunt that you so graciously allowed him access to, and Alastor had long forgotten how to mask his greed for it…
He saw no point in hiding his craving when you came to him in a state like this. Demanding and desperate, just the same as he was.
“So…” you sighed in delight as he nuzzled his head closer, blood-red eyes drifting up to meet yours as you continued to speak, “…you’ll help me fall asleep then? One last time…”
A lie.
You both knew you'd return to him for all your needs, desires, and troubles.
“One last time “ meant nothing to Alastor and even less to you.
“Of course, I will, my darling…” he let the static drop from his voice, admiring how your small canines dug into your bottom lip, eyes lidding over with unmistakable pleasure.
That was all you needed to hear from Alastor, voicing no refusal as he shifted closer to your heart and moaned loudly as he passed his tongue over your clothed heat once, then twice before ripping it away with his sharp teeth.
You jolted from sudden action, not startled by Alastors microaggressions and rather proud of yourself for causing such a ravenous reaction. “Careful, or you might hurt me, Al…” you feigned concern, petting his head gently as a lazy smile tugged at your lips, and said deer demon responded to your coy reprimand by slowly lapping at your folds.
“Oh, mmm…” Your back arched from the velvet cushions you sat against, hands fisting the fabric of his red dress shirt as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs, effectively keeping you still.
His grip was bruising, a normal pain you'd come to expect since you tended to struggle to tease his efforts at pleasing you, but your little habit persisted.
“Y-you think- ahm…you think you deserve this?… To have me…t-to get anything you want…ah…” you writhed in his hold, glaring at him vengfully despite drowning in a pool of ecstasy everytime he passed his unruly tongue over entrance. Alastor chuckled at your brazen remarks, reveling your warmth as he switched between teasing your clit and exploring your inner walls, and you lost your breath from the familiar pattern.
He knew you inside and out, committed your every reaction to memory, and thrived off seeing your tender body betray your power-hungry mentality.
Your thighs trembled as his tongue slithered deeper into your cunt, leaving no inch of it unexplored while his gaze remained on your flushed face. He couldn't look away, not when you threw your head back before letting out a string of whimpers, blinking back tears as your hips rolled closer to his face.
He had you now, legs shaking, and your count steadily streaming a mix of his saliva and your cum.
He had you, and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop him.
You'd asked for it…
“Earn it…earn me…Alastor,” you praised his efforts through grateful moans, vibrating with pleasure as the coil in your stomach curled itself impossibly tight the longer he feasted on your cunt. Stars dotted your vision as your high approached, his distorted groans and deathly grip coaxing it.
Blood trickled on your thighs, his nails gradually digging deeper into the fabric covering them, but you refused to care as Alastair brought you over the edge.
“That's enough..” you whine as his tongue swirls inside of your cunt, leaving nothing to waste as you come down from your high. He didn't relent to the ministrations, overstimulating you on purpose, and you tugged one of his ears roughly to correct him. Alastor grunted in pain, grimacing at you as he backed away from your entrance slowly, “What a violent little thing you are.” He chastises you, eyes narrowing as a huff leaves your lips, “And you're an arrogant son of a bitch…” you snap back childishly.
His eyes glow bright red at your snarky remark, smile widening as you follow it up with an innocent smile. No one but you could get away with talking to him that way, smug and inconsequential.
Indeed, Alastor would find a way to fuck the meaning of genuine fear into you…
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This was literally a drabble…ughh my writers block is actually debilitating atp… :(
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
His eye brow raise kills me everytime…like okay yes sir whatever you say sir mhm will do sir no need to ask me twice sir!!! ❤️ credit to the creator
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inklore · 11 months
Text
put on a show
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premise: you like people watching you turn into a pitiful mess of need and desire, and hobie likes being the cause and effect of it.
pairing: hobie brown x (f)reader
word count: 2.3k
contents: established relationship, they’re both camstars, badly written british talk probably, unprotected p in v, coming inside, dirty talk, light choking, hobie has tongue and nipple rings because i said so, oh and tattoos, praise.
note: finally putting this out into the world instead of in my head, enjoy, eat it up, and thank my bby sil for sending in this request that made my brain short circuit.
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You had seen Hobie first. 
Or rather, that’s the story he insists be told when your friends ask how you two met.
That it was you who was bored after your own stream one night and scrolled through the lives and found him. Stumbled upon him by luck, and your tongue heavy and dry in your mouth when you saw his tattooed chest, body leaning back against a deep purple sofa. The sheer-ish look of the velvet made his body look ethereal with him perched on it—knees spread as his fist lazily stroked himself. 
As if it were nothing. As if the piercings on his face and nipples, his thick hair, and the black studded collar around his neck didn’t make him look like a fallen angel. Like the users commenting on how hot he looked or how beautiful his cock was, it meant nothing over the comments of people cracking jokes with him and making the corner of his lips pull up in a smirk as he held a teasing conversation with them. 
A conversation you would have with a friend. Fully clothed. Maybe around a slice of pizza.
Not completely nude with your hand around your cock. 
And maybe that’s when you first fell in love with him. 
When you stayed for his quick quips and banter with his fans rather than watching him get off.
Of course, until you actually watched him get off. 
Watched the way his bottom lip hung open, brows furrowed, heels digging into the cushions of the couch as his hips bucked up into his fist. As his breath and words became heavier, more incoherent, and harder to understand with his accent, the closer he got. The harder he fucked up into his hand. 
The noise he made when he came, spurts of his come decorating his tattooed skin, was all you needed to see to know Hobie had pushed his way to the top of your—possible—favorite things to get off to list; your fingers typing out the only word you could think of into the chat: beautiful. 
“Looks like we've gotta celebrity in the room with us.” He smirked while reading your username. Thanking his tippers before giving everyone a salute and signing off. 
His words indicated that Hobie had seen you first.
That the story you tell is missing the prelude of it where Hobie tells them how he’d watched your streams before you’d ever watched his. Something he keeps between the two of you when he’s between your legs murmuring against your thighs about how he loved watching the men in your chat section be at your mercy from even a flash of your pretty pussy. 
And while you remember vividly the first time your eyes set on Hobie, it’s harder for you to fully comprehend how the two of you got here. 
Together. 
Streaming together. 
A couple. 
Who fucks for all to see on the internet. 
Strangers begging Hobie to leave his teeth marks in the globes of your ass, and within those same seconds, others are begging you to edge him with your mouth until he’s a swearing, groaning mess. 
You’d never tell your friends the nitty gritty details of it all. A simple “yeah, I found his stream first and the rest is history” is better than “yeah, I found his stream first and now he fucks me into the mattress of our shared bed and turns my ass towards the camera to show everyone his come dripping from my pussy”. 
So you keep it simple if anyone asks.
And give the rest away to strangers. 
To people who want both you and Hobie equally. 
Who send in tip after tip that one would think is the reason the two of you do this. Why you keep coming back and giving them what they want. 
You’d asked Hobie once why he likes to stream, among his other decently paid jobs—modeling, gigs with his band—that he could be doing steadily rather than this. He had told you that some scout manager for some big modeling agency tried to sign him after a show he did. Talked a big game about money and getting him in the clothes of real designers, the ones that mattered, only to end the conversation by saying how ‘his body, his rules’ only worked when you were with an agency that mattered. 
So Hobie, being Hobie, proved him wrong. 
Stuck it to every fake body positive agency out there by putting himself—his full self—on display on the internet, only for sales of the upcoming designers he was modeling for to be trending worldwide before the clock struck midnight. 
It made your reason for streaming a little less proactive. 
“You like it when people watch you make a total mess out of ya self don’t you, love?” He asks, his accent thick and deeper when you have his cock in your mouth like this. With your back splayed across the bed, your head hangs from the edge as Hobie uses your throat. As his hips create a pattern of thrusting slowly, then hard. The slow strokes move the underside of his dick against your tongue in a languid way that makes you moan around him as you savor its weight. The hard strokes burn your throat and make tears stream down into your hairline as spit and precome mix at the sides of your mouth and chin. 
All you can do is nod around him. Eyes blurry and doe like as you look up at him from upside down. See the lopsided grin he’s giving you. See his stomach muscles tighten and move each time he hits deeper in your throat than the last, your throat constricting around him, unwilling to take him any further until he repeats the stroke and it grows accustomed to him being there, welcoming him with a whimper and your hips canting down against the bedspread. 
And he was right. 
You loved people watching you look totally consumed. Fucked out and raw with pleasure and need. 
It was your favorite part of it all—before Hobie.
Watching the chat come alive with praises and degradations, from how you fucked yourself into exhaustion and delirium with a vibrator or the slow grind you would do against your pillow that always turned you into a whimpering mess. 
You wanted people to see you in that weakened state. To be in awe of how badly you wanted to come or be fucked. 
And Hobie loved watching you almost as much as he loved being the one to make you enter that state of delirium with just a swipe of his thumb across your bottom lip or a bite of your nipples. He loved doing the little things that would work you up to the point of your pretty eyes begging him for more—to be rougher, to go faster. 
It’s why the two of you made the perfect team. 
The perfect show. 
He loved someone who was addicted to what he had to give, and you loved everyone watching you take whatever he was willing to give you. 
And you both loved how heady the sight of each other's pleasure made you. How good Hobie looked with his head back between his shoulders, a hard swallow making his throat bob, groans slipping from his wet lips as you sucked on the tip of his cock as he pulled it out of your throat. Your tongue laced with the taste of his precome. 
Hobie's eyes light up as he runs his thumb along your wet bottom lip, leaving a trail of your mixed saliva down your chin and up to your neck, where his fingers splay across the column of it. His rings warm against your heated skin. The involuntary intake of breath your lungs make when he adds the slightest bit of pressure makes his cock twitch. 
Makes him want to fuck your throat with his hands right here so he can feel himself, feel how you fight back your body's survival need to struggle with something being that deep past your tongue. How you ignore it and do the opposite by moaning around him. 
You look messy, dazed, and all his.
As much as he craves to paint your tongue with his come tonight, with one sidelong glance at the screen, he can see that your fans want to see his come somewhere else. Somewhere that’s already wet and making you squirm when he reaches over your body and cups your pussy against his palm. 
Two fingers slip past your lips, making you mewl and squirm as your thighs clamp around his wrist. Your clit swollen and sensitive from his earlier abuse of it; his mouth attached to your pussy, the metal in his mouth aids in the friction of your hips to get him to where you were greedy to have him, and the metal nicking your clit in just the right way to make your back bow. 
“Should we show’em how soaked this pretty pussy is?” He hums against your chest as his pierced tongue runs along the mounds of your boobs before rolling against a nipple. Your body contorting against him; a whine the only answer you can give. Hobie grins against your skin, “thought so.” 
The embarrassment someone might feel to be now on their knees, chest to the bed, ass in the air, and Hobie’s fingers running through their wetness, has long since left your body. Embarrassment didn’t belong in this line of work or in your relationship with him. The two of you were like open books read and reread, pages torn out and dogged eared. He knew your dark parts just as well as you knew his light parts. 
So with the squelch of his fingers fucking into you, your entire bottom half facing the camera and giving everyone the perfect view and show of your arousal, of just how wet you had gotten from Hobie down your throat, makes you moan into the bed. Makes you beg him to fuck you. 
“Has she earned it, do ya think? Should we fuck this desperate pussy?” Hobie laughs at something, something you can’t see or even be jealous of not seeing because you’re too busy pushing back on his fingers. Too busy looking just as desperate as he describes. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” You feel his lips press against one of your cheeks before his teeth bite into the muscle, making you squeal. 
And with one quick movement, you're pulled in the other direction, your ass flush against his pelvis as he thrusts into you. 
The noise you make sounds more like a wounded animal meeting its end than something graphically sexy. But you know they’re eating it up. That Hobie loves it. If the way he starts out at a hardened pace is any indication of the matter. His fingers and rings dig into your hips as he fucks you; he doesn’t even have to pull your hips to him because your body is doing the work for him. Pushing back on him. Meeting him halfway and making his cock drive harder and deeper into your pussy. 
“Sounds so fuckin pretty, doesn’she?” Hobie leans over your ass and presses a few kisses to your spine before reaching up to grip your shoulder. One of his legs bent up at the knee, giving him more leverage as he pounds into you. “She feels fuckin’ amazing, mates.” He groans, “god. The way she grips my cock like her pussy is tryna pull me in further, and further,” his thrusts accentuate his words as his hips snap harder and at a new angle now. Making you sob into the bed. Your fingers are messing up the fabric of Hobie’s comforter. “Such a greedy pussy.” An airy laugh falls against your skin as his mouth bites at your shoulder.
Making your stomach flutter and your body hang at that precipice. 
It only takes a few more strokes and his thumb against your clit and you’re coming. Crying out as your body finally crashes down from that pleasurable high. That need finally being sedated and brought to a place of calming satisfaction. Like a wound being licked clean. Taken care of by the one thing, the one person, who could make the ache bearable. 
“Good girl,” Hobie grunts into your ear. “S’fuckin good,” he says in that deep octave that makes your body swoon. Makes those sparks of arousal hang on longer and longer as he continues to fuck you. As his hips snap and fingers pull you back onto his cock until he’s coming undone. Until curses are mixed with your name and he’s praising you and your pretty pussy for taking him.
And when he turns you around again, your ass back in view of your fans—the people you’re sure are going crazy in the chat right now. Their praises, their jealousy, and their tips all ping ponging through the chat. 
God she’s such a good little slut isn’t she
Fuck you filled her up nice 
Make her choke on it next time 
$100 pounds if you eat it out of her mate 
Ya’ll are amazing!
Your body shudders when you feel Hobie’s fingers run through your sensitive lips, the squelch of his pointer and index pushing into you—the smallest hisses breathed out from your lungs from the sting of your swollen hole—gathering the remnants of his come on his fingers.
“Look at the camera, love.” Hobie says softly, soothes a hand at the back of your neck to give your head a more comfortable position as you move yourself, but keep your ass in the air. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open your mouth for him; no need for silent orders. You just do it. Happily. His fingers press down onto your tongue as you wrap your lips around them and suck off his come.
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sluttywonwoo · 1 month
Note
joshua eating your pussy for the first time idk
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“c-can i?”
“you want to?”
joshua’s eyes get even wider, something you didn’t think was possible.
“of course i want to!” he insists. “i just, i haven’t… you’ll have to show me what you like.”
he’s already on his knees, gazing up at you with hearts in his eyes, begging you to give yourself to him.
you want him. you want all of him. you only hesitate because you know he’s never done it before. he’s new to a lot of this and you’re afraid to push him too far too fast… even though he’s the one who’s pleading asking for it.
“are you sure you want to?” you ask, carding a hand through his hair.
joshua leans into your touch as he nods eagerly, pouting his pretty lips to try and sway you. “please, baby. please let me eat you out. i need to taste you…”
you lift your skirt for him, earning a quiet gasp in response.
“yes, thank you. thank you—”
he scrambles to take hold of the fabric himself, holding it even higher than you had so that he can see more of you.
“here, let me sit for you.”
you move to the couch and perch yourself at its edge for him, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot himself in between them.
joshua’s quick to push your skirt back out of the way and even quicker to slip his fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties.
“wait, keep them on.”
“why?”
“we’re starting slow,” you explain. “you can taste me over them first.”
“but-”
“do you want to give me head or not?”
“i do! i do, baby you know i do.”
“then be patient. it’s your first time, we’re going to take things slow.”
joshua mumbles something you don’t catch under his breath but pushes your thighs apart even further, leaning closer and closer until his nose is almost touching your pelvis.
“do what feels natural to you,” you tell him. “and i’ll guide you to what feels good to me.”
he nods, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs, then closes the space between him and your pussy. he kisses it so softly that you almost don't feel the gentle brush of his lips through the fabric before he buries his face in you, breathing you in.
he's all over the place at first, wanting to taste every inch of you. it's uncoordinated and sloppy but sensual and pleasurable all the same.
the press of his tongue is firm as he tries to taste your arousal through your underwear. you apply a bit of pressure to the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going.
"like this?" he asks, muffled.
"yeah, shua, just like that," you pant.
you didn't expect him to make you cum like this, but you're starting to think he might when he finds your clit. he knows he's found it from the way your breathing changes and the grip on his hair tightens so he doesn't let up, testing different patterns until he settles on one that has you slurring all your words.
"oh, fuck..."
"you taste so good, baby," he murmurs. his voice edges between demure and desperate, like he's trying to come off as cool but just can't control himself. "can't wait to have the real thing... if i make you cum like this can i have the real thing? please?"
your eyes are closed so you don't know whether or not he's looking up at you but you nod anyway. "mhm... make me cum and you can have anything you want."
396 notes · View notes
sprout-fics · 1 year
Note
nsfw for könig!! that man LOVES to manhandle you. pinning your body to whatever surface there is, your hands above you or behind you, i mean his one hand is probably able to grip both of your wrists while other is toying with your nipples or clit or is laying on your lower stomach to feel how he’s destroying you from the inside. absolute beast. his fucking voice?? you can feel vibration of it, when he occasionally tells you how good you are or what he wants to get out of you. getting so hard when seeing your body under his will and wish. under his power. not humiliating you though.
It’s the adrenaline. 
It’s only ever when he’s fresh off a mission. He exists only on the blood lust of battle, of his crazed, primal drive for violence. It sings in his veins, makes his brain electrify with a frenetic energy he can’t control. There’s something about the color red that intoxicates him, makes his muscles contract and squeeze with a radiating hyperactivity he can barely restrain. 
His usual gentleness, his soft approaches and desperate touches vanish in those moments after the mission.
“I need you.” He growls in your ear as you perch in the helicopter. “Soon.”
He barely waits until you're both in private before he's on you- clawing at your clothes, crowding you into a closed door, growling in your ear, his hips already grinding into the small of your back. He swallows your gasps with his massive hand, gloved, stinking of gun oil, plastered across the lower half of your face. 
It doesn’t take much. He flips you like you’re nothing, maybe takes you into his arms and manually carries you back to his bunk. He’s strong, resilient, radiating a lethalness you don’t dare to cross. Yet it’s that strength, that flex of his arms and the swell of his thighs as he settles over you that steals the breath from your lungs, makes you realize just how much of a monster he can be. 
“Please, liebling.” He tells you, and it isn’t a request in the way he says it, but it’s an ask all the same. “Let- let me touch you.”
You blink up at him. Slow, trusting, conveying to him that you know him even now, as he's consumed by bloodlust. He’s yours. He’d never hurt you. He’ll take care of you. He always has. 
You’re powerless under him, under his huge hands as one splays across your nape- pressing you down into the mattress from behind, the other seizing your wrists and dragging them behind your back as his hips meet yours. 
It’s your voice that’s muffled by the pillows, crying out in an endless litany for him as he fucks you, imbues in you every ounce of vibrating,excess energy lost in his veins. You take it willingly, but even so it’s so much, and you’re reduced to mewling, keening noises, absent of words. 
“Say my name, liebling.” he tells you, voice high, a desperate gasp. “Please- say my name.”
You do. You say his real name, echo it in and endless chorus that you sing up to the heavens as he steals the breath from your body, replacing it with the hot, pulsing heat of him filling you over over and over and over again until you come undone at the seams and fall endlessly into him. 
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murdrdocs · 1 year
Note
RIDING DAVE LIZEWSKI'S THIGH!!!!!! 😧
okay so listen listen ; SMUT 16+
riding dave's thigh can go a couple of ways me thinks.
the first, it's to put on a show for him. in these moments, you're perched on his lap, trying to kiss, grind, and massage away his stress and the tension in his body. he's a fucking superhero without any powers, of course he's always stressed and sore and bruised. and there's not much you can do on your front. you know trying to convince him to give it up is fruitless, and you can't go out there and fight off crime. so you play the role of the doting girlfriend; there in the middle of the night to patch up injuries and kiss it better. tonight, luckily, you're doing more of the latter than the former. he's come in stressed, nothing but a few scrapes and bruises decorating his pretty face, but he's already changed out of the kick-ass suit and now he's just dave. your sweet dave who is holding onto your hips for dear life as you kiss him until he's dizzy and his glasses are skewed.
"tell me about your day," you're telling him, rubbing your lips together which makes dave aware of the sheer amount of lip gloss that he has on his lips now.
he tries to do as he's asked, but you've started to straddle one of his thighs and he watches you lower yourself. he starts from when he'd first talked to you this morning, and you're nodding your head, little "uh-huh"s leaving your lips in affirmation. but those noises of affirmation go from letting him know that you're listening, to letting him know how much pleasure you're feeling.
you're pushing your hips back and forth, letting the friction from your flimsy shorts and dave's jeans please you. your eyes screw shut, your head lolls back, but you're still saying, "uh-huh" and "yes". the noises are driving him crazy, a prominent pitch forming at his crotch. your hands are on his shoulders, pushing into the muscles, relieving them of their tension little by little. but its like with every push, dave's muscles relax, then tense tenfold. he can't relax when his pretty girlfriend is riding his thigh, listening to him rant about his suddenly-unimportant day while she gets off in front of him, evidently putting on a show.
whenever you push your shorts to the side, letting dave know that you weren't wearing any underwear, he flips you over and pushes his fingers inside instead, giving up on the whole run down on his day.
the second, is to deprive him of what he wants. similarly to the first, you're putting on a show. but you both knew that the ending would be slightly different. dave's been pissing you off; snarky remarks, avoiding you, treating you like you weren't that important. which, sure, you understood that he has other important things to do. but you're not asking to be treated like the fucking queen of england. you just want some basic respect that he was more than capable of giving you last week.
so when he comes into your bedroom late at night, beaten and bruised, on the verge of tears, you try to ignore the way your heart strings tug. "baby, i'm sorry, please, i just need your help."
you're upset, but you're not a sociopath. so you take him to your bathroom and clean him up, but when his hands try to reach for your skin, you're flinching away, or swatting his hand off. but if dave lizewski is anything, he's persistent. so he keeps doing it until you end up in his lap.
but you're not looking at him. you're looking at the cut on his forehead, at the cut at the corner of his lip, at the bruise that's forming on his eye and at his jaw.
"look at me. please," he's trying, his thumbs rubbing what he thinks is soothing circles at the exposed skin of your thighs. you're not caving though. even whenever he says, "let me kiss it better? let me fuck it better?" and maybe that would've worked when you weren't pissed at your boyfriend. maybe. but now all it does is rile you up.
"i don't need you to get off, dave." you spit his name out, reaching over to throw out the cotton balls that you'd just used. when you come back to face him, he has a slightly condescending smile on his face.
"sure, but you know it feels better when i do it."
he might be right, but you're not one to back down from a fight. you're not gonna let him win this sort of argument. so you situate to straddle one thigh, stare into his blue eyes, and watch as you start to slowly drag your hips along his quad, exaggerating your moans just to get a reaction out of him.
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