COD men's reaction to you all soft and overwhelmed, whispering “please… take some out.” Each man reacts in his own way: some fold, some mock, some push you deeper. This post includes: König, Alejandro, Graves, Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Keegan, and Nikto.
Thank you @codnasties for the inspiration. You literally fueled my first two headcanon sets🙏🏼
König
Your little whimper “it’s too much” makes him freeze for half a second, blue eyes wide behind the hood. Then he groans, forehead against yours, dick still buried to the hilt. “Scheiße… you’re so tight, kleine. You want me to take some out?” He pulls back an inch—just enough for you to sigh in shaky relief—before slamming back in with a brutal snap. He chuckles when your nails dig into his shoulders. “Nein, you can take it. Open up for me. Let me break you properly.” Even as tears roll, he coos in German, rocking into you until your body stops fighting and starts melting around him.
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡✦
Alejandro
You’re gasping, thighs trembling around his hips, and your soft plea nearly undoes him. He kisses your jaw, hips slowing, murmuring, “Too much for mi amor? I know, I know…” He pulls out a little, just the head stretching you, giving you space to breathe—then pushes back in slower, watching your lashes flutter. His smile is wicked though, voice a low purr: “Mira cómo lloras for me. You’re begging, but your pussy won’t let me go. You don’t really want me out, hermosa. You want me deeper.” His thrusts pick up again, deliberately measured, forcing you to ride out every inch while he hushes your cries.
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡✦
Graves
You choke out “take some out” and he laughs, mean and sharp. “Baby, you asked for this cock. Now you’re beggin’ for mercy?” He grabs your hips, holding you down on him so you feel every brutal inch. He fucks up into you rough, ignoring your squirming. “Ain’t no half-measure with me. You get all of it or none at all.” He smacks your ass hard, sneering when you sob his name. “Cry pretty all you want. This cunt’s mine, stretched full, stuffed proper.” He doesn’t let up until you’re too fucked-out to ask again.
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Price
The plea makes his chest ache even as it turns him on. He slows, cupping your face, thumb brushing your wet cheek. “Easy now, sweetheart. You want me to ease up?” He pulls out halfway, giving you shallow thrusts, his eyes soft even as his cock throbs inside you. “There we go. Breathe with me. You’re doing so well.” But the second your body relaxes, he’s sliding in again, deep and unhurried, eyes locked to yours. “I can’t leave you half-full, love. You need it all. Let me give it to you.” His voice is gentle, but he doesn’t stop until you’re clinging to him, begging for more.
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ ✦
Gaz
You whimper the words, and he falters, forehead pressing to yours. “Shit, baby… am I hurting you?” He almost pulls out completely, guilt flickering across his face—until he feels your walls still clenching him tight. His jaw tightens. “You don’t mean that. Look at you, dripping for me.” He kisses your tears, then rocks back in slow and deep, coaxing your legs around his waist. “Don’t run from it. Let me in, all the way. You’re my girl, yeah? Take me.” He talks you through every thrust, soft voice against your skin, fucking you until your moans replace the pleas.
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ ✦
Soap
Your shaky “take some out” makes him bark a laugh, feral grin splitting his face. “Oh, lass, too late for that.” He ruts into you harder, grinding his pelvis against your clit. He bites your throat, hand pinning your wrists above your head. “You begged to get stuffed, and now your full—so deal with it.” When you cry, he licks a tear off your cheek, groaning. “Fuck, look at you—can't even take it but you love it. My greedy slut.” He keeps you stuffed to the brim, snapping his hips until you’re screaming his name.
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ ✦
Ghost
The whisper slips past your lips—“too much, Ghost… take some out”—and he stills, chest heaving, mask brushing your cheek. He tilts your face so you meet his eyes, cold and unreadable. Then he smirks behind the skull. “No. You asked for me. You’ll take me.” He pulls out an inch, just to make you think he’s giving mercy—then rams back in, hard enough to knock the breath out of you. “See? You can take it. You were made to.” His gloved hand presses over your mouth when you sob, his voice dark in your ear. “Don’t ask again. You’re mine—every inch stays in.”
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ ✦
Keegan
Your shaky whisper makes his eyes darken under the camo paint, body stilling for a beat. Then he leans down, breath hot at your ear. “Take some out? Not happening.” His tone is rough, rasping from hours of silence in the field. He rolls his hips deliberately, grinding deeper instead of easing up, making you keen. “I hide in the shadows all damn day, but with you? I want all of me buried where no one can see.” His hand covers your mouth when you try to plead again, his other dragging your thigh higher on his waist. “Shh. Don’t waste your breath. You’ll take it. Every inch. I won’t leave you empty.”
꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ ✦
Nikto
The words slip from your lips, breathless—“please… take some out”—and Nikto tilts his head, dark eyes narrowing behind the mask. His hand clamps down on your hip, keeping you flush to him. “Nyet. You take what I give.” His accent makes the words heavier, crueler. He pulls back just slightly, enough to tease, before shoving back in with ruthless force. You cry out, and he chuckles low, a sound like gravel. “Your body does not lie. You are built to be filled.” His glove brushes your cheek almost tenderly, a contrast to the brutal way he keeps rutting into you. “Suffer, malen’kaya. Break on me. You’ll thank me after.”
@the-darklings here 😔 there's 49 songs and I can make a list w/ 49 bullet points listing EXACTLY why each song is on the playlist and paired w/ your master piece
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... ignore the error.
Check out the Better Bobby series by @the-darklings for an amazing series feat. Bobby Franklin from The Backrooms 🥺 also use the link to check out the playlist I made if you want (there's not much rhyme or reason to it so keep your expectations low lmao) ✨
syn: in the night you're a popular pornstar streamer. in the day you're a hardworking girl pursuing her master's. what happens when the respectful, focused kid in your lectures turns out to be your top gifter [that you've been crushing on]? not only that, but reveals himself as ironfist? in short, a whole lot of crazed fucking.
tags: rough-sex, cunnilingus (m!recieving), brat-brat taming, superpowers, degradation, face-fucking, nerd lin, cocky ironfist, masturbation, a lot of plot, whump, this is fire, BARELY BETAREAD
an: I lost my soul and my will to write, and ive had this sitting in my drafts for like 4-6 months no joke...
Lin didn't know where the line of sex and love ended, not with you. For the past year and a half, he logged into your chat room, watching his favorite cam-girl work. Her name was BunnyFist, wearing his signature yellow mask, whatever lingerie you liked best for that day, and a fine collection of fake dicks.
He was curious. Twitter had all the raves for you, so he didn't check you out.
Never could he expect how enthralled he'd become with you. It was your soft skin, pretty cheeks, the way your lips pressed in pleasure, how you weren't afraid to show every angle of you, not plastic like porn, but alive, earnest. You did it for your pleasure, not caring to cultivate a plastic image.
You sponsored and reviewed toys with honesty; your work was erotic, fun, and of high quality. You tried to connect with your fans in a human way, something other streamers in your field failed to do. Or at least, not in the same kind of way you did. Lin was obsessed. Hard, horny, and obsessed. Hell, he's got your frustrated, sexy expression stuck in his head. You were magnetic, even when you were angry; you were insufferably seductive.
Every Wednesday at 10 pm, Lin showed up to support you. It started small, popping in to see your work, subscribing, and later, dropping his first donation, how you lit up at the small amount. He got hooked, wanting to spoil you. He even updated to your higher subscription service, 250$ a month for one private call per month.
Fuck.
He remembers the awkwardness of the first call. How he sat with his mic muted and video off, watching you, typing diligently while stroking himself. It was so embarrassing, it was hell. But you gave him so much grace, taking the lead, and giving him a good show (he gave you a fat tip afterward).
But he soon got comfortable with you, and you with him. You found he was funny, earnest, witty, and a relaxed natural outside of the tense aura. Hell, he treated you like an actual person; you noticed him long before he started his subscription. He was always late, yet never failed to ask how you were, no matter if you were 6 inches deep into a dragon dildo. Too cute!
You were starting to think he enjoyed watching you sobber out an answer amidst your sloppy moans.
However, you were nervous to see him upgrade to your highest subscription. You wanted to know what he sounded like. What he looked like. Only he and three others bought your service. You were an extremely popular cam girl; your price was hefty for a reason. To even attend the first private call, your manager set it up that you have to make a $500 deposit on top of the first month's rent.
A precaution to keep you safe, scare away those who couldn't afford you.
So suddenly, when sw0rdmasterLL, a loyal chatter, suddenly upgraded, your heart raced. He was rich. And now he was one of the 4 who supported and cushioned you.
Unfortunately for you, in the first three months of calls, sw0rdmasterLL completely covered himself. No microphone to ease your tension either. It's hard to read a chat while overstimulating yourself on a dragon toy, but he never burdened you. Never set off any scary alarms; most of the time, he was quiet.
You got him out of his shell 4 months into his free calls, getting him to turn on his microphone after a new round of teasing him.
And god.
Swordmaster's voice was delicious.
It was unwavering, airy, strong, deep, and charismatic.
You remember hiding your face, out of embarrassment, but also to hype him up, and he blessed you with his easy laugh.
Fuck.
A guy like him had to be…
Regardless.
He talked a lot during your time together.
Spending a good chunk of his paid 30 minutes talking to you while you're at work. Talking to you. Reassuring you as you pleasured yourself, talking you through it, commanding the way you worked, it was driving you fucking insane. Not with a voice like that, how soft yet so fucking horny he sounded.
And god help you. His moans were blissful. You were sure he never noticed, but you got so fucking passionate whenever you heard his groans. It was like he was trying to be quiet, but now and again, his mind would frenzy, and he'd release a deep, breathy grunt. It was light like the wind, but masculine, sexy.
He sent you pretty lingerie to your business address. Almost like a fetish, he loved having you wear lacey undies with nothing covering your chests, undies you were never allowed to take off. At the end of every call, you'd take it off, bringing it up to the camera and showing him how deliciously ruined your poor garment was. That's when you were able to milk the most sounds out of him.
Swordmaster was fucking hot. That's all you thought it was. After all, it was the truth. It made your job easier.
Somewhere along the way, the line blurred. Not just for you either. You knew the dangers of falling in love like this. You couldn't, not to a paying customer. But those red, warning flags were looking so green, so easily mistaken, or so easy to sin against.
The two of you got comfortable after a year, and you were chatting with Swordmaster naively in private messages. At first, it was about organizing his subscription, and then it was silly talks about studying, hobbies, gaming, and IronFist. You both adored the superhero. Lin even secured you limited figures, figures that slowly occupied the shelf behind in your setup.
You knew it was a real problem when his voice plagued your dreams. Hearing it alone, your panties were soaked. You were so eager to pounce on him in private calls that even Lin noticed how rambunctious you'd become-- only with him. He chalked it up to, "This is how you behaved with every peak-tier subscription."
Lin knew he made a lot from hero missions. He had endless savings, earning a fat stack of commissions and payment for every mission, especially when the Avengers sought out his help. So he had a lot to spare for you. He even created a "bunny" savings account, dropping 5% of his earnings into it, all to buy your shit.
It made him feel so proud whenever you opened his gifts on stream, so proud, looking in the back for any video or clip and seeing his figures. Watching you use his toys in streams. How you called out his name and welcomed him when he came into chat. He loved the way your voice lit up. The late nights, when he should have been studying, he spent talking to you in private messages or wanking himself off to you.
His body was so hard-wired that every Wednesday night, and every Tuesday (which was his usual monthly call date) night, he'd rut. Despite not seeing you every Tuesday, your private calls stayed in his system for weeks, fuelling his horny dick. Even on the Wednesdays when you couldn't work for menstrual reasons, he'd be helplessly horny, pawing at himself in your memory.
He's reminded how lucky he is to have his apartment off campus. Couldn't imagine how his poor roommates would've reacted to his antics.
You're a part of his system.
He needs you. He knows how wrong it is, you're just trying to do your job. Probably running into horrible creeps every day, trying to claim you, to keep you. He doesn't ever want you to stop being yourself, stop working. But fuck, the sweet conversations you have together, although he's aware you're just being nice-- you'd treat anyone the same way -- he feels so vulnerable afterward.
So needy. So desperate. His body reacts, and so does the unsettling lump in his heart.
So with all the guilt in the world, he shows up to every stream, every call, sending in much, just to keep feeding it.
Things were starting to get weird for both of you.
Midterms were coming up, and though at night you were a rambunctious Cam Girl, in the daytime, you were a graduate freshman pursuing your education. It was a tough balance to work, study, party, and be social too. But you learned how to master it well. You lived in an apartment off campus as well, funded by your work. It was hard work, but rewarding and satisfying for you.
You also took an international business class, a class you took unrelated to your major but out of interest, which was the biggest class your university offered. Undergrad and grad students alike. So when your mid-term arrived, you weren't surprised to get an email with your team of 5 in it, two of which had dropped out three days before, and the other simply never showed up.
Leaving you and an undergraduate student named Lin Lie.
Managing this project was going to be hard. Filling the gaps that the other three left was too much to think about, so over email, the two of you split work and sections. Not getting to the nitty gritty of the void and scheduling for the two of you to meet up at his apartment next Tuesday at 6 pm, after Lin's shift, and long before you meet with Sword Master.
It was the only day Lin said he had available. Though you'd never say yes to any sort of activities on a private call day, you were drowning in midterms. The stress of it, the hormones, all of it fell on your ovulation week.
No matter how shifty today turned, you were so eager to release some stress and shed a few tears under SwordMaster's overstimulation.
Shit. You can't think of that now.
You cleared your head.
Now, you were standing outside the campus, standing on the edge of the parking lot. It was a crisp evening, and the sun was beginning to set behind the clouds. The wind was soft and slow, a small moment of peace as a white car pulled in front of you. You looked down at it. The door opens and out steps a tall, muscular, handsome man.
He wore a dark blue hoodie, a red shirt poking just beneath, accompanied by dark wash jeans and red Converse. Your eyes followed his body as he rounded the car and approached you.
Fuck. He was handsome. Jet black hair slightly messy from his own, giant hands running through it, beautiful dark brown orbs complementing sharp, handsome mono-lids. A cute pink nose and pretty, plump lips. He was taller than you, shoulders bout as wide as a barn. And contrary to the frat boys you've seen, his lower body matched the strength of his upper.
He stammers, "Hey! You're (y/n), right?" You flinch, he continues, "Sorry, I'm late. Something came up, and t'uh-- So… How are you?"
That voice. It was smooth and unwavering, airy but masculine, deep and sexy. Strong, passionate.
A fierce gust of wind flies by, rattling his clothes and blowing late autumn leaves with it.
You flinch, gulping slowly. "Lin lie," you asked. "I'm well, thank you. How are you…"
He flinches. You didn't notice. Neither did you notice his eyes widening in shock, nor did you notice the way they shamelessly peeled down your body.
Somehow, this little undergrad had your face hot and your body squirmy, from a few simple words. You were just ovulating, that's it. And he was big and tall. Your hormones were tricking you.
"Yeah- I'm good. So uh… Ready to head over?" he asks, taking a hearty step back, gesturing to his car.
"Yep, ready," you say. He opens up the door for you, you slip inside, he shuts it, and runs to his side.
His car was clean, far cleaner than any man's you've ever been in. It smelled of aloeswood, a woody, vanilla-cedar musk with hints of black pepper. The spice, the warm scent, you clenched into your pants, leaning back into his deep with a troubled sigh.
Lin cranked up the car next to you, looking over with a hum.
"Gonna be a long day," you squeak.
He chuckles, "For sure. We got it, though. You finished your parts so quickly! You'll be done in no time."
Those compliments. They seemed so familiar. No. That fucking voice. You know that voice you swear you do.
"I'm not leaving you behind with the work, Lin," you hum, gazing over.
Your eyes meet, and he doesn't look away. He takes a sharp breath, squinting, analyzing you. His presence surrounds you, and your nails claw into your seat belt for security. Your stomach was growing warm. You look away, and he starts the car, driving off to his apartment.
The poor road sways beneath you, and his driving stays steady. You take the time to gaze over his car. You ask, "So… Lin Lie? Am I saying it right?"
"Yes… Lin Lie… You got it," he encourages.
Your face won't get any cooler at this rate. You quirk, "If you don't mind me asking, what's your ethnicity?"
He chuckles beside you, "I'm Chinese…"
Your eyes catch the dangling IronFist merch in his rearview mirror. You gasp, pointing to it, "You like IronFist! The second IronFist!" You almost shout, like a child with a special interest. "Oh- God that was really bad," the weight of your words hit you, blood rushes to your faces.
His breath hitches, then he snorts, shaking his head quietly. "Really bad."
"Super-- really bad," you mutter.
"Soo bad. I should kick you out of my car right now," he teases. "Make you walk..."
His tone is catty, and with a whirl, youre reminded of him again. You struggle,"M-Mmh, I'd deserve it."
He chuckles sweetly, "So you're an IronFist fan?"
"Fan? More like Fanatic," you gaze out the window. "He's so kind. It's my favorite thing about him."
His breath hitches, voice growing unsteady. He shudders, "I l-love that IronFist… He's a great successor…" You look over at him. Lin peers at you from the corner of his eye, his gaze narrowed. He had this sort of knowing gaze about him.
You felt tiny under that stare. Your lips parted, brows mingling into a mess. Your heart races. His tiger eyes dart away.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Your thighs press tightly.
Your palm cups your face, body leaning against the window instead- anywhere but him. You close your eyes tightly, tuning in to the sounds of the wind against the car, the road beneath the tires, and the steady, quiet music Lin had playing that you failed to notice until now.
He asks, "What do you like about IronFist… I'm a super fan myself… I've got all the merchandise."
Fuck. Listening to him with your eyes closed was worse. Your clit throbbed.
Swordmaster and Lin sounded alike.
That is what's been driving you more haywire than usual.
Your eyes popped open, your breath seemingly heaved quietly. Still.
You feel like a damn dog in heat.
You gotta stop thinking about SwordMaster.
"IronFist is just… He's cute," you chuckle.
His thumb twitches on the steering wheel, and in a strained voice, he croaks out, "That's all?" He sounded tense, airy, and strained. He even breathed out a shaggy sound, flowing it, shifting in his seat. "O-Out side of his... the kindness thing."
Awkwardness coats the air.
You don't answer, fighting back the memories of Sword Master's strained grunts.
Damn, now you're ignoring him.
"-Sorry," he huffs.
You look up.
"Eh, it's fine," you whisper.
The rest of the ride was dead quiet. He pulled into his home silently, his driving skills so steady- so skillful- so handsome. You'd be lying if you said you weren't entranced by the way his tan, large hands handled the wheel. He was so confident in driving, putting a muscular hand behind your seat to peer back as he drove.
And you couldn't look anywhere but his thick neck, his plump lips pursed in concentration. Your heart was racing.
Fuck.
You were too turned on; you were making this interaction awkward.
You slipped out of the car long before he could run around and open the door for you, trying to dust off some of that awkward tension at the root. You followed him through to the elevators, noting how grand and large the complex was. He held open his front door like a gentleman, and you stepped inside.
His apartment was beautiful. It was definitely upper middle class, but still had this humble, considerate flair. His home was decorated suavely, with jade green decor, eye-catching reds, and deep navy blues being his favorite shades. For a man, his apartment had furniture! He had a mostly wooden, calm interior, with an open space connecting the kitchen to the living room. His feng shui was amazing; the space was open, and the energy was slow and tranquil, concentrated. He has nice moody lights and lamps instead of beaming ceiling lights. It was serene, zen, with splashes of boyish tastes and posters.
You giggled, slipping off your shoes at the door and placing them on his shoe rack.
He chuckles after you, "What?"
"Your home is so cozy," you giggle.
"Sacarsm?" He asks, obviously fishing for more compliments as he walks into the space, wooden floors creaking softly behind him.
"No way," you rush, "-and you know that too." You cut cattily. You follow him to the sofa.
"What can I say," he drags out a husk, "I like my ego stroked," his voice hazes over.
You shudder, eyelids hazing over for a brief moment.
Maybe you don't want to focus. But that part of you, the cautious one, stands tall.
Lin Lie had a low sofa with a large TV over the fireplace. To the left, in the corner, was a small round bookshelf, license burned from it. That delicious scent of aloeswood was stronger here, paired with a sensible taste of sandalwood.
Your shoulders drooped in security. Lin sat across from you, on a little cushion on the floor. The coffee table between the two of you was a large, square, wide coffee table that was low to the ground. He fished out his computer and notebooks and set them down. He stood shortly after.
Lin spoke, "Make yourself at home… How about some tea, hmm?"
"Oh," you hum. "Do you have anything relaxing?"
"Mmhm, coming right up," Lin grinned.
You took the time to set up your computer on the table and look around at the environment. Right above the sofa, he has a rare IronFist poster, the one IronFist took for the 2022 Dragon Punch figure collab! You knew it for how rare it was, and cause SwordMaster got the actual figure for you.
You never knew it came with a signed poster?
The sound of a kettle pot went off, and Lin returned with a tea tray with tall, handle-less tea cups. He poured the tea aroma into the cups, handing you yours and waiting before you ever took a sip.
"Let's get to work, yeah?"
-
Work?
The two of you barely did that.
Somewhere along the way, your tea was replaced with champagne, notes were scattered across the table, and you kicked back on the sofa on a much-needed break that lasted an hour.
"You'd think that, but I swear-- On my life! Iron Fist was there, two chill cheese dogs in his hand, my ankle in the other," you barreled out a laugh. "And all I could think about is, 'Damn, I'm so glad he saved my meal! That would've been 20 dollars wasted!"
Tears streamed out of your drunk eyes, your body half slumped over Lin's shoulder, half rocking back against the sofa backrest. Lin giggled along, his feet propped up on the table, slouching into the couch. His face was a red hue from alcohol, that pink-tipped nose of his seeming to glow… And those Obsidian eyes.
"Fuck, I'm glad you weren't offended…" Lin sighed awkwardly.
"Offended? The Ironfist touched my body! I mean- who wouldn't be honored?"
"Ooh, so you like him like that, huh? (Y/n). How naughty," he grinned.
"Oh yeah? You're not the same? He's a Greek god… No- Chinese God-- No, he's a dragon personified, sneaking around in a perfect human form…" You hid your face in his shoulder.
"No-- I don't like him like that."
"Righttt… So. How'd you get that 2022 figure, Lin…" Your voice was dangerously close, dangerously sexy.
The truth of the matter. Lin had already recognized you as BunnyFist. No, he realized it back in the car. Your body, your voice, the way you laughed and spoke. Your passion for Ironfist. He spent countless hours in your streams watching you, seeing all of you, Lin already knew. But, more than that, he respected you. You were a graduate student, going to the same massive, shitty university as him. Working an exhausting job yet ace-ing your school work.
You were so awesome.
He was lucky as hell to get assigned to the same project as you. He's still in denial that any of this was happening. The thing is, you came here to work and finish this project, and so did he. Nothing else.
But now.
Now you're driving him crazy.
He dodges the question, fleeing from your intensity, "I don't have the figure."
"Really," You drag tipsy fingers up his jacked arm, staring up at him from hazed eyelashes.
"I gifted to a uh… A friend," he gulped. You squeezed his biceps; his breath was failing beneath him.
(Y/n) He gifted it to you.
He gifted it to you.
Your hand slides from his biceps to his chest. His eyes are locked on you. You were like a panther, picking on its prey. "You know, Lin," the sofa beneath you creaks as you sit upright, pressing against him and leaning your lips into his ear. Your freehand takes his cheek, caressing it with your soft finger buds.
He's hard. He's hard instantly, and he whimpers into your touch.
Your voice. You were his BunnyFist.
Suddenly, though, you stop, flopping back down away from him. "Nah… I think it's just… My mind is playing tricks on me," You sigh. He instantly hunches over, hiding his lap from view.
A strained, awkward laugh leaves him as he discards his hoodie, dropping it in his lap, flashing those gorgeous arms of his that poked out of his red undershirt. "Want more tea-- (y/n)," he stammered, reaching for the empty tea tray, "Maybe we should switch back."
Did you just make a move on him?
Or were you just friendly??
"Yeah… Break's over… We do have more shit to do," You hum.
He sighs, relief budding on his shoulders. He collects the cups when you interrupt him again. "Wait… Hold on… That's a rare ass figure, Lin. Who'd you give it to?" you ask, shuffling behind him on the couch.
He looks back, and you're stretched out. Lying on your side, head propped up on the armrest, gazing at him with interest.
"Ah… This uh… Well," he says. He can't look at you and tell you this! "This girl I like…"
"Oh," your voice is laced with disappointment. "A classmate?"
"Mm-- Yea-- Well no… She's like… Kind of like a boss to me… I'm her client-- I guess? For a project," he says. He can feel himself ache in his pants. Mentioning you always had this effect, but talking about you to you. His mind was burning, self-restraint aching in his mind.
"Whoa? Scandalous, Lin! Falling in love with your contractor! That's dangerous," you sit up with a fervor. You ask, "You like older women?"
He nods, his eyes drifting down your body, clinging to your chest. He's not sneaky, you notice, your eyes hazing over again. So you weren't alone in the chemistry. He's sitting upright too, abandoning the tea set, his lips agape in a daze. Your hands reach for the hoodie in his lap. "Lin, I'm so cold," you whisper.
Your breath is close again, and your face is near. He's staring at your lips. You're staring at his. There's no shame here anymore.
"Take it," he says, without thinking. You slip it into your lap, not even using it, hands reaching up and combing down his wild hair. He's hard. You spare a glimpse of his giant print, straining in his jeans.
Fuck. He has to be huge.
You need it really badly. You need Lin.
You couldn't describe how he overrode your systems. Maybe it was the smell of him, being in his house, his muscle, his strength-- his voice. You'd been slick in your underwear for the last ten minutes, too slick to think straight.
It was just his voice.
You didn't know what it was, but every time he spoke, your mind stopped working. He was making you so horny.
You need to hear moaning.
You need to hear him while you pleasure him.
It's so primal. So primal, you don't care anymore.
You ask, "You two aren't serious, are you?"
You need to hear Lin's voice. You need to.
Lin goes quiet for a second. "What're you doing to me, (Y/n)," he whispers.
You whine, "Need me to stop?"
Lin turns to you, grabbing your hips, drawing in closer and closer.
"No," he whispers. Lin sinks into your lips, pushing you back onto the couch, large hands running up and down your frame. Lips crashed with a needy zeal, desperately brushing and slurping. Lin's legs sank in between yours, and pressed up against your clothed clit.
"a-aah," you cried out, dragging fierce claws through his mop of black hair. He sank into your neck, licking stripes, nipping, and sucking your bones. He panted like a madman, reaching lower and fiddling with his belt.
The sight was glorious.
You ask, "I make you that horny, Lin?" You cup and caress his cheek as he looks up at you.
"mf-- need you, (y/n)," he pouted, sitting upright and sliding his jeans off. His voice went straight to your cunt, and you shot up after him, sneaking on the floor as his pants hit it. He adjusted himself in anticipation, leaning his back against the couch and spreading out his legs. You crawled between each thick, meaty thigh, palming his wet boxers.
He'd been hard for some time, too; he's drenched with you.
His length was hot, fat, and girthy already. The print hung against his right thigh, seeping into the black cloth, twitching to be free. You stroked him slowly, licking a stripe up his thigh. His breath hitches in confusion.
"Wild girl," he pants out beneath shaded eyes. He collects the back of your head, guiding you closer to his dick, "Show me…" It's a plea.
You grab his hem, he aids you with slipping off his boxers, and out pops a hot, meaty cock. His tip is a fiery red, angry and alert, just as flushed as the tip of his nose. His middle shaft is fatter than the rest of him, bulging out to return to normal at the base. He was a lengthy, heavy thing; slipped back against his stomach, too much weight to stand up on its own.
You moaned out. He was just like those dragon cocks you used, but it was real- he was warm, veiny, and real. He was gonna be a chore to get in and out, but fuck, it's exactly how you liked it.
"Big guy… Whose been feeding you?" you whisper, taking a firm grip on his cock. He bucks out with a grunt, staring dead at you.
Your eyes meet. Normally, guys like him love to talk about whether you could handle these kinds dicks, but. Lin didn't do that. He stares down at you with intense, dark eyes. It was like he knew you could. Your pussy purred.
You collected his oozing juices on your palms, firmly stroking his length, reveling over how your hands spread out and shrank as you traveled past that fatty bulge in his middle shaft, his soft veins tickling the pads of your fingers. He was boiling with temperature, like a raging, unrelenting fire. Surely he'd burn you alive.
He was a dragon.
You leaned down, rolling out your touch. Lin braced for impact, breath picking up. He was dreaming. He was dreaming. BunnyFist was about to suck him off--
"Fuck Lin, that look is deadly… Mmhm, where's your phone? I gotta capture your beauty," you purred out. There you were teasing him more and more. He already knew how catty you were, but fuck, his cock was crying in your grip, needy.
"The table," he grunted.
You blink, taken aback, "Oh? You're okay with it? Me taking photos of you like this?"
"You want it, (y/n)… You offered," his eyes were so dark. You shivered delightfully.
You released his cock, it slapped back against his shirt, and you quickly grabbed his phone from off the table, polite not to smear his screen with his juices. You swiped right on his device, hopping into camera mode.
He was gorgeous. His tan, meaty thighs spread, his gut-destroying monster red and alert, following up a tart waist to broad shoulders. And the star, his glossy, hungry eyes, like a predator in waiting. He was going to pounce on you one day for sure. Oh, how you teased and delayed him.
It'll all run up. That patience won't spare you.
He was deadly.
You stuttered, "Fuck you're good, Lin."
You snapped photos, so sure the phone was shaking, getting the angles right, and his Obsidian pearls followed, lethally, dominantly staring into the camera no matter where it went. You lifted up his shirt, he helped you, taking it into his hands, then holding his shirt up with his teeth, dropping a meaty hand to clasp over his base. He adjusted his cock into the light, that red, fiery tip.
You quivered, "You're a natural… You belong on camera." His chest was still tan but significantly brighter than the rest of him. His shoulders were darker, showing how he often wore sleeveless shirts. How could he keep such a good tan up in the autumn? But his chest was chiseled, he looked like a fighter, and he could tank serious hits like it was nothing.
Just who was Lin Lie?
He growled, "Are you done?" His patience is running thin.
You snapped out of it, taking the last picture, and throwing his phone aside. "Shitt," he grumbled blissfully, collecting your hair as you sink into his monster cock.
You licked a fat stripe up his base, through his wide shaft, and to his tip. He hitches his breath, so warmly you invite his red tip into your mouth with kitten lips.
"Mm, so misbehaved… We'll fix that, Lin," you whisper. You cup his base with two hands, licking a pretty-looking stripe up his length. His taste is salty, faintly sweaty, and rich, too. Playing with the real thing was different, truly.
Lin only watches as you take his head into your mouth, your moist, hot breath grips him, and your tongue is polite in greeting him. You badger a sharp tongue into his hole, forcing him to buck in surprise. You flatten the hot muscle, aligning it beneath his dick, giving it appreciative licks before sinking.
You descend deeper and deeper, reaching his girthy shaft. Your jaw widens so large, so sure you'd choke to death on him. You grab his thick, warm hips, while your name is the only thing drifting out of his lips. You've deep-throated worse.
You bear through it, finding your nose pressed flat against a vein on his abdomen, his racing pulse beaming against your nose. Your throat was packed full, squeezed to no room, a true log in your throat. You slurp that tongue out of yours, as it curved down against his base and to a bit of his balls, so you lapped it greedily, bobbing your head slowly to match the rhythm.
"Shit-- (y/n)," he grunts. He dropped his head against the sofa, toes curling, heavy hand against your mop of hair. "Taking it all in… So good," he pants, never wanting to look away, but swept up by pleasure.
You took it seriously now, bobbing back to his middle shaft, how your throat stretched for the bulge, only to sink back down again, forcing that girthy part back deep. It was like your throat was getting fucked by him. Your hole ached painfully. Your spit and his precum built up sticky bubbles at the base of his cock, a shameful ring of combined liquid, paired with a sharp squelch for every bob on Lin's dick. And each time you made it back down, you licked up that area between his base and his balls.
Your speed quickened, swiping your tongue like a rattlesnake, feeling his tip poke at the back of you. Lin grew restless, panting, gasping out, gripping your hair knuckle tight, unable to praise you, slow you down-- hell, even get out coherent words. Seas of airy, deep moans, whimpers, and grunts bubbled out into the open air.
You were milking him dry, his precum like a ready faucet. Yet the only thing on his mind is that his long-time crush, the only woman in the world who he could get off to, BunnyFist was deepthroating him like he meant nothing. He's seen you suck the most monstrous things, fantasized it, even had it follow it into dreams, but to experience the gummy, lethal squeeze of your warm, soft throat, watch your pretty face eagerly Bob up and down- back and forth-- all with that fucking devilish gaze.
"Mhhhtt-- haa-- ah oh cumming, cumming b-bunny," Lin cries, his grip knuckle tight. It stings, but you slam down onto his base, humming intensely, shooting vibrations from your throat straight onto his cock, licking and lapping his base and balls, with a soft rock, ready to accept his salty shit straight into your body.
Lin whines out, the sound is strained, shot deep into the air, as hot wads burst into your throat. His chest is heaving, eyes lost beyond the clouds, pink lips red and parted tastefully. His grip steadies after his high, and finally, you can slide off, coughing at the burn in your throat, as spit and precum dribble down your neck.
Lin slowly leans forward, discarding his shirt and using it to wipe down your mouth and neck. His touch is gentle, despite his massive arms. "Fuck… Thank you… (y/n)," His face is flushed, and afterglow overtakes his tan cheeks.
He asks, cupping your dry face in his hands, pulling your face to him, "What do you need? Need some water?"
"Thank you?" you croak in confusion, a gentle giggle leaving you. "You're driving me crazy…" You gaze to your left, watching the night sky beam in from the windows.
What time was it?
He grins, "Come and get it, bunny." He's still hard.
Someone to finally match your stamina?
You grin, shooting into his arms as he embraces you, pulling you off the floor and into his lap. Your lips crash with a fire, messy and sloppy, lapping tongues against each other, scooping out his mouth, reveling in the sensual, wet touch.
His arms pull at your shirt, helping you lift it over your head. He dives into your neck, sucking and licking the space, while giant, warm hands caress their way up and down your body. They mingle with your ribcage before dipping to your back, snapping your bra free with a click. You pull back with a pant, and he's deadly quick with slipping the rest of the bra off you.
Your pretty chest, his gluttonous hands slide up them, cupping each to a hand, neither alone. "So pretty," he whispers in awe. His eyes were drowning in affection. Your heart skipped a beat.
"Kiss me, Lin," you whimpered. Not a second wasted, Lin dove in, guiding you, gripping your hips as you ground down on his cock. His fingers unbuttoned your jeans, unzipping the zipper.
He breaks free from the delicious lip lock, tasting your saliva on his tongue, he hushes, "We gotta get these off bunny."
"Mmh… Yeah, Sw--" you choke, "Bunny? Oh shit. Lin. Lin, what time is it?"
He flinches at first but steps into action. Lin reaches for his phone, tossed on the couch beside you, "It's t'uh… 9:30…"
"Shit! Listen-- Lin, I'm having so much fun, but I really gotta go." You dashed off, sliding to your feet, stuffing all the things you could into your backpack.
Lin reaches for his clothes, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. "Oh-- Okay... Y-Yeah..."
"Im so sorry I mean I-- Its nothing personal Im really having fun with you here," you choke up even mlre.
Lin's face is painfully red, as he bashfully cups the back of his neck. "No-- You're good I... I'll walk you out."
You smile, face heating up, "God thanks for being cool about this. Sorry well have to... You know. Link up again..." You chime.
Lin's eyes sharpen, "You know it, bunny."
You chuckle, boting your lips before refocusing on SwordMaster. "Mmh, yeah, hold on, I gotta send a text to my friends. Tell them I'm going to be a little late."
You pull up your chat log with Sw0rdMasterLL, stepping out of the way so Lin couldn't see your phone, your precious titties still hanging out.
BunnyFist: hi! sw0rdmasterLL!! smth urgent came up, im gonna b 10-20 mins late.
Ding!
Lin's phone chimes. He gasps behind you.
BunnyFist: i promise this won't take away from ur allotted time!! 💜
Ding!
Your eyebrows furrowed.
Sw0rdmasterLL is online.
You can hear Lin shift behind you.
BunnyFist: is that okay?
Ding!
Lin's phone chimed again.
Slowly, you looked up from your phone. There was Lin, his face a deep red, his pants barely thrown on, eyes staring frantically at the screen, then slowly, his eyes rose to you.
You waited a second, disbelief in your soul. You count five seconds.
Then you typed again.
BunnyFist: swordmaster
Ding!
"Lin," you huffed.
BunnyFist: Swordmaster
Ding!
"B-BunnyFist," Lin stammered.
Within seconds, you bounded forward, diving straight into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, sucking his tongue up. His wild hands grazed over your back as you bucked and moaned into him from the kiss, sounds muffled by his lips. You broke apart with a heavy, primal whine, "SwordMaster, SwordMaster."
"Bunny," Lin grunted, taking your bottom lip and biting it with a drag.
"T-take my clothes off, fuck me, lin," you whined, head growing heavy and weak in his shoulder. You started grinding, whimpering like a dog fresh in heat.
He spared you, immediately picking you up by your ass and carrying you into his bedroom. He dropped you on his twin bed, which faced the corner of the room, and there he stood next to you, his tall foreboding frame looming over you, the exit behind him. With all this shade cast over him. His build reminded you of IronFist's pure, delicious mass.
You watch Lin's impossibly broad, large frame reach into the bedside table, pulling out a condom strip, and ripping one off with his sharp canine. It's a beautiful, anticipated sight, how dark-lidded eyes unwrap plastic with a frustrated, dead-flat expression, and guide a clear wrap over a leaky, monster dick.
"Please," you whine. Those dark eyes shot to you, all the stare of a dangerous force. Your body purrs out, bucking into nothing. He crawls on top of you, massive hands on either side of you, trapping you in his relentless gaze.
Those large hands roll down your shoulders as he kisses your lips, neck, collarbones, and tits in one go. Each press of his plump lips is a reaction to your soaked cunny, drenching the bedsheets beneath you.
"l-lin," you moan out, puckering your lips, trying to bring him back up.
He leans in slowly, eyes hazing. You shut yours, aching for a kiss.
Instead, with a mighty slam, your left leg is beside your head, knee dear to your elbow. You gasp, eyes shooting open, but before you could register, your right leg is captured the same way.
Lin leans into your ear with something delicious prodding your hole, "I know you're flexible…" He hushes lethally, airy and drunk, threatening. "I've seen your streams," he whispers, "You can take it."
Then, with no hands, Lin arches forward, his cock tip slipping through your folds, going up, badgering against your clit, right where your labia starts and beneath your hood. "S-shit, lin," you cry out. With no hands, he thrusts against the spot repeatedly, heavy breath above you, not breaking eye contact, thrusting against the same spot.
You've lost all control over your voice box, your toes curling in the air, your hole puckering, needy, clasping on nothing when you know it should be filled right now. Filled up to the brim by Lin. Your hand shoots up, grabs a chunk of his hard, muscular shoulder, nails baring into it. His precision continues on you, as he licks a fat stripe up your neck, your toes clenched.
"S-stop it-- mmmm lin pleasuh," you beg, feeling your juices dribble down your ass.
There's this evil grin splitting over his face, one mixed with pity and desire. "Alright, Bunny," he sighs, taking another wet stripe up your neck. With one far thrust, he slides the length of his boiling hot cock up your lips, preparing your senses for the fatness of it before it dives in.
Then, still with each of his hands pinning down your legs, he angles his hips downwards, dragging his tip across you until it hits your hole. "Welcome, welcome," he hushes out, "isn't that what you say?" Your body starts to squeeze, peppering kisses against his tip.
You whine and shiver, "creepy lin."
He laughs heartily, pecking a kiss of appeasement on your skin. His tip makes contact with your hole, the hot, round skin plunges in, as you suck in the full mushroom. He doesn't slow, sliding in at a steady pace, as your body sucks in his broad shaft, hymen stretching over its fatness, toes curling in delight, he's lengthy, just when you think you're about done, you finish over the fatness of his shaft, never meeting his base, as his fat tip plunges into your cervix.
"h-holy-- shit lin," you mewl, so sure it wasn't as big when it was all in your throat. You pick your head up, eyeing the space where your body connected, and only an inch hangs out of him. "N-no way," you mutter, but are silenced by sweet lips against yours, your legs brushing against his shoulders.
He tongue-fucks your mouth as he ravishes your walls, thrusting steadily, deep, intense thrust. His thickness splits you open, stretching you wide, plunging deep to kiss your cervix. Your toes clench, thighs trembling under his giant palms. You squeal into the kiss, but Lin is relentless, slurping up your tongue and muffling you.
His fat cock pounds into you, hitting the same spot in your gummy, spongy walls, the thrust echoing through your belly, your bladder trembling in the pressure. He finally frees your lips to groan out deep and slow, letting loose, letting hips fly. His obisidion colored eyes flee behind his lids, pink-tipped nose an erotic red, while his bruised, swollen lips take shape into a beautiful you. Your squelching takes up the room, decibel a kind to gunshots, your pussy seeming to live its high-life. All this filled up the room like an addictive drug, dousing out chemicals in your brain.
Lin can feel his balls start to surge, but neither of you wanted this to end. He slows down, pulling his cock out mid-way, admiring the ring of sloppy, pure white fluids around his base. "I can't pull out." Your pussy gripped him, sucking him right back in. He moans breathlessly, "You won't let me," he whines.
Your body shudders, savouring the minute to catch your breath. It doesn't last long as Lin collects your wrists, your legs still planted up in the air, he cocks his hips back.
"wu-- wait-- Lin," you stammer out.
And with one fierce thrust, he slams deep into you. Your head flies back into the pillows, your moan audacious.
He chuckles, "Be a good girl and keep your legs up there for me." His thrusts are swift and hard, like a bullet train or a jackhammer. So hard that he releases a pugnent, heavy grunt for everyone, his muscles straining, his breath controlled for his athleticism. Your palms meet his abdomen every thrust, his grip on your wrists secure.
You were being stretched to the max; the truth was, you weren't a built god the way Lin was. By now your legs were shaking, released to a wuivering, fatigued mess, body reacting uncontrolled, confused, a squirt sprays in the air. He laughs sweetly, "So pretty, bunny. Can't handle this?"
He released your arms, and you dropped your legs shortly after. He leans over you again, and your limbs wrap tight around him. His hands grab your hips, thumbs circling the bone. "It's s'all right, if I fuck you like this, I can hit your clit too," he hums.
"w'wu-ait lin--" he slams into you again, his abdomen bumping your clit roughly. You gasp sharply, hands gripping chunks of his beautiful, black locs. You were deathly overstimulated, the pressure of being manhandled built up in your bladder, pleasure turning your brain dumb. Lin, on the other hand, was so sprung, so athletic, you were confused he was superhuman. His rippling muscles weren't just for show, and neither was his flexibility. Your legs gripped around his hips for dear life, already sore but loving the way he murdered your pussy.
"Li-- Li-- ple..aahfu! Go-- mmff, gonna cum" you moaned out. His hammers hit your clit for every thrust, your sweet nub swells, filled with precious sparks, flavored in your erotic desire. It all bubbles up, bubbles up before you're seeing stars, and a sharp, circling orgasm takes your breath away. He fucks you through it, slowing down when you land back on earth, loving the way your body tremors as he kisses your neck.
"L-lin-nuh," you gulp, blinking slowly, soreness spreading up your ass and lower back. "So good-- m'pussy feels so good, babe," you whisper drunkenly.
"You did well, bunny," he mutters between his kisses. "But baby, 'm still so hard," he whimpers.
Your eyes shoot open, mouth hanging for flies. "My god… lin," is all you can manage as he pulls out, showing you his hard, red-tipped, fiery dick. He swings it; its length is mouth-watering. Your body surges in excitement as you find the strength in you to sit up. "I don't think I can take any more," you lick your lips, falling back against the bed frame, "But I can help you, darling." You open your mouth again, wide and erotic, your tongue lulling out, heat rising.
Lin chuckles, crawling up and straddling your chest. His knees were on either side of you as his cock aimed at your lovely mouth. The view was amazing, tall, muscular, tan skin as far as the eye can see, with rippling six-pack, complemented by deliciously full pecs. He was godly, and you swiped horny hands down his buttery rolls of packs. "My god, Lin, are you a super-hero or something? You're about built for war," you giggle as you kitten lick him.
His confidence is smug and sudden. "You would know. You've probably studied every picture of me on stream."
Your eyebrows furrow, "What--" Fat cock is shoved into your mouth, as your hands trail down his body and to his cock. It's tasty, hot, and salty, pumping to kiss your throat. After a few thrusts, he pulls out, rubbing his tip against your lips. "Mw'vhat d'ya mean," you muttered.
His free hand rises to his face, laying a hand over his eyes, "BunnyFist, don't you get it?" And suddenly it clicks.
"Iron--fii," the taste of him rolls on your taste buds as his cock glides right back in. your whole puckers around nothing as he uses your throat like a rag, its hotness restricting like a python around his dangerous length. You bob, suck, and hum, eyes shutting in bliss, excitement. Everything you ever wanted was blinding together like a blissful puree- to fuck sword master, to fuck lin, to fuck iron fist.
But hell, he was still in, that kid younger than you-- a girl pursuing her master's, so you pushed his hips, and he slipped out.
And with a deadly glare and blown-out eyes, you muttered, "Prove it."
A daring grin sliced up Lin's cheeks.
"我一往无前!"
Jade green burst out of his body, his forearms glowing an emerald color, supernatural swifts of dark matter circled his body, his heavy breaths going as silent as still water. "f-ffuck me-- lin," you cursed out, half in shock, half embracing yourself for the punishment he was surely going to deal to you. You had never seen such supernatural up close, not as Lin caressed your face and then grabbed the side of your hair, not as the green aura traversed down his cock, as its skin shimmered in a glittery, iridescent green glow.
"Lin?" he seems to get cocky, offering a scoff.
Your pussy sputtered, wetness all in your thighs again.
"What's my name, Bunny. Say it."
"I-IronFist," you moaned out, eyes fluttering behind your lids.
"Good girl," he purrs. He slaps his cock against your tongue, watching as your big eyes tremble between looking at him, his aura, and the sheen of his cock. "I think I'll finish like this," he mutters. IronFist lays his cock against your face, laying a thumb against his length to keep it steady. He thrusts against your face, his cock going up the side of your cheeks, your tongue, to your nose bridge, with its tip resting on the height of your hairline. You lulled out, eyes fluttering away as you absentmindedly licked up his length.
"Cum on me, IronFist," you sighed, heart skipping beats.
He grabs his length, jerking off so dear to your face, his tip poking your upper lip. "IronFist--" You mewled breathlessly. The gorgeous shot of him below at this angle, with his cock ready to spray you, marks you as the whore you felt in this moment. Wanting to be used by IronFist.
"ghn- Bunny,, shit," he groaned out, his voice sensitive and sharp.
His seed shoots out, spraying your face with an off-white filled with shimmering green. His aura weans before it's sucked right into him, flowing into his arms with an intense woosh. And for a minute after such fucking, the two of you sat there, out of breath, panting in an array of many emotions. Lin crawls off you, his face hot and embarrassed, staring at the mess he made of you. Your hymen was stretched, so visibly that he could see it, and your hair that was roughed up by his hands, how your legs twitched, still recovering from your heavy orgasm, and how you panted as if you ran a marathon.
A cheesy smile dashed his face.
He got to fuck his favorite pornstar, the woman he had been shooting shots with for countless months.
He crawls up close, wrapping you up into his arms, "(y/n), need me t--"
"You're IronFist? Like actually IronFist," you spat out, hands reaching up to cup his peck.
"I thought I proved it, bun'," he chuckled.
"I know, but," you squeeze his pec, "I think I'm in shock…" You gulp, sighing in airy bliss, "That sex was sooo good, Lin."
Lin smooths down your hair with a laugh, "It was amazing, (y/n)." He shifts to get up, but you grab him by his bicep, squeezing the thick meat there.
"I don't think I'll let you go-- ever. No, I won't let you go now, Lin," You command.
"Heh, I wasn't going anywhere, just gonna get you a towel."
"Don't need one."
"Really now? Sure." Lin leans forward, his tongue lolling out, lapping up his cum from off your face.
"So fucking hot, Lin," you laugh. "I wanna put you on camera."
"How are we gonna do that?"
"Maybe I'll do something like, 'Having My Boyfriend Stuff Shit Inside me Until I can't Anymore' stream," you grin deliriously. Lin pulls you into his lips; the kiss is possessive on both ends.
"So I'm your boyfriend now," he hums.
"They'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands, Lin… Iron Fist," you moan.
"I love the sound of that," he says, sinking into you, kissing you deeply.
And as the night wanes, your project sits completely forgotten on Lin's table.
Story Notes: Reader is half-celestial, half-human. Adam is irrevocably obsessed. Yearning!!
WARNINGS: 18+ NSFW | Soft!Dom!Adam | PinV, Subtle choking/gagging | Finger sucking//deeep throat exploring(Adam is a curious little man) | Adam has a “mate” mindset | Slight breeding kink | Forced squirting | Creampie | Cum play¿¿ | Oral(Fem!Receiving)
Author Notes: I love Adam too much NOT to write about him. Bro needs to be buffed in MR tho. I listened to this while writing and proofreading! Def recommend for reading! Ambience Vid <-Link
Word Count: 7,746
—☆ KNOWHERE
The Kree were relentless but too cocky for their own good. You had just finished destroying the last fleet, their mission being to wipe out the existence of the harmless Utarians. You would've rather been at your favorite club in Contraxia but happened to be flying by when you saw the chaos. Peter had called in the middle of it all, his voice cutting out multiple times.
"Well, I think it would be nice if you joined us! It was your favorite holiday back on Earth, wasn't it?" he had asked with far too much enthusiasm for your liking. Halloween. Of course, he would know, considering you had shared that fact with him when you were "abducted" by Yondu and his crew off Earth, which was around the time you had found out you weren't just human.
Since then, Peter had been like a brother, except when he flirted horrendously with you in your mid-teens, which obviously didn't work out. Even though you didn't see each other much anymore, not after the Guardians formed, you two would still pick each other's favorite holidays and celebrate, his being Christmas, and yours? Halloween.
"(Y/n!)," Peter calls out your name as he walks towards you. Behind him is Gamora, and at her side, Mantis. However, there was someone else trailing behind them. A…golden man? You have seen many species in these galaxies, but none like him.
"Hi, Peter. Gamora. Mantis." you greet them all politely, giving an awkward little wave. The golden man steps forward, though he doesn't extend his hand. He stands there, closer now, and his chest is just a little more puffed out.
"I am Adam Warlock. We have not met."
"Clearly, we haven't. I'm-"
“(Y/n), yes. Peter spoke of you. He described you in precise detail." You look at Peter, giving him that 'the hell did you say about me' look. He puts his hands up in defense and promises it's nothing bad.
After a short debriefing between you and the girls, the four of you head into the center of Knowhere, where the Guardians live, and most things happen. The place seemed disjointed, colorful, and highly diverse amongst its citizens. Though, what you notice the most is the vast array of mismatched Halloween decorations. There were children of all kinds going around and ringing doorbells, knocking on doors, and then receiving some interesting-looking treats.
"So, you brought Halloween to Knowhere.", you say to Peter as you watch two kids fight over some tentacle-looking thing.
"Ah yeah, you know. It'd be nice to bring the culture. Plus, a way of getting to see you for once."
You smile at that, a feeling of admiration for Peter's thoughtfulness. However, all this Halloween stuff has you thinking of one thing. "Twizzlers?"
Peter raises his hand as if to stop you from speaking further. "Already done. When we went to Earth, we picked up plenty of candy and took loads of decorations."
"Wait…you took all of this? Peter, you can't just do that."
Peter shrugs, brushing your scolding off. "I'm just borrowing it."
—☆ FIRST SECOND ENCOUNTER
You've settled in your room, one of the many in the complex where the Guardians and others live. While laying down clothes you'd wear tonight for the "Halloween Party", you hear a soft knock on your door, followed by a slightly familiar deep voice.
"It's Adam."
The Warlock. Or Adam, so he's called, a name you'd find out he adopted. It suits him, you think. Setting down a pair of tights on the bed, you open the door. You're almost his height, so you don't have to look up much, though up close, you notice his eyes more. They're not exactly white, but a pale yellow, maybe light gold. The lack of pupils and complete coloring in his sclera should be unsettling, but you find it oddly...comforting.
"Hi. Adam. Do you need anything?"
“(Y/n)…I am...deeply attracted to you. I am certain I've felt a pull the moment you reached this galaxy. Then, when you came here, it became stronger than ever before. That's when I confirmed that it had to be you. It's a magnetism, and I cannot stay away longer. Allow me to court you."
Oh. Well…that is very direct.
“Oh…I…” You were left without words for a moment because how does one even respond to that from someone they met this morning? Was he sure that it was you? He's being ridiculous, you think, but the thought of entertaining this, whatever this is, was ever so tempting.
"I sense hesitation."
You shift your weight to your right side and tilt your head curiously. "Right, well, I did just meet you."
"Yes, I am aware."
You huff, somewhat annoyed but also amused. "Listen…whatever it is that you're feeling…I don't feel that. "
"Surely you must. I feel your celestial energy practically radiating off-"
"How do you know that." you interrupt him. He gives you a look that could only be described as confusion.
"I sense it. I am a cosmic being, (Y/n)."
"You're technically human," you argue.
"Perhaps—but I am far from any human. I was created with cosmic power," Adam takes a step closer, his eyes boring into yours like a hawk. "Allow me to court you."
"Stop saying that…feels like I'm in the Medieval times."
"Medieval times?"
Of course, he wouldn't know about that. "Nevermind. Just… that's now how things work, okay? Listen, I gotta start preparing for Peter's Halloween thing, so…"
"Right. Yes. The party. Very well, (Y/n). I hope you have time to…think about what I said."
"Mhm. I'll see you around."
With that, Adam gives you a slight nod, then walks off, his posture slightly less upright than usual. You watch him as he walks off and think to yourself, what if you say yes? What's the worst that could happen? A cosmic and celestial being coming together…surely nothing bad.
—☆ THE PARTY
You weren't wearing a costume.
Being invited on the day of a Halloween party, which doesn't even align with Earth's Halloween, would make it pretty damn hard to prepare a costume. Currently, it's October 28th on Earth, but close enough, right?
You carry a variety of clothes on your ship for all occasions, but not for a Halloween party. With a sigh, you smooth down the side of your red dress as you step into the center hall of one of the many buildings in Knowhere. This one was on the outskirts of the city and had a bar. The color of your dress matches your tights, deep and blood-warm, clinging like a second skin. It was the most Halloween-esque thing you could pull out.
The music was a mixture of strange tunes you hadn't heard before and some Earth songs you assumed came from Peter's tapes. You remember sharing an earbud with him and listening shoulder to shoulder on Yondu's ship. The crowds buzzed with sugar highs and very spiked drinks, beings of all kinds dancing without much rhythm, and the decorations glowed a little too bright for your liking as if a Spirit Halloween had blown up.
You scanned the place, finding Peter almost instantly, dual-wielding candy bowls and passing out the sweets while talking about famous horror movie slashers, who the citizens of Knowhere believed to be real people from how they were reacting. Mantis waved dramatically across the way, her cute buggy eyes locked on yours. Gamora was trying to keep Peter from falling on his ass, while Rocket was nowhere to be found, most likely on his usual antics with Groot. Drax seemed asleep, his head on the bar countertop, surrounded by a handful of empty bottles. And then—
There he was.
Adam.
Leaning against the wall like he had been carved there—perfect human and all. You may have turned down his advances, but you couldn't deny that he is, in fact, attractive. His expression is unreadable, as usual, and you notice he has no costume. He was still looking at you like he did earlier as if you were the only thing in this galaxy worth orbiting.
You reached for the table beside you, grabbed the nearest drink — bright neon green, fizzing, definitely alcoholic — and pretended not to notice him.
Didn't work.
He was already moving before you could take a second sip, golden eyes fixed, posture straight like he'd been waiting for a cue. He stopped in front of you. Too close, you think. Not close enough, you feel.
"(Y/n)," he said, voice low and smooth, "You didn't dress up."
"Neither did you."
"I didn't need to." Of course, he didn't.
You take another sip, eyes on him now. "You're staring."
"Perhaps I am."
There's a pause, though not awkward, but electric. Adam wasn't hiding it — the way he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every minuscule detail, though he never did hide it in the first place. Not once. It should've been unsettling, but somehow, it wasn't.
"You look..." He pauses, eyes trailing down your length, slow and deliberate. "Dangerous."
"Oh." You couldn't help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.
Then, his voice quiet, as if he didn't want the crowd to hear, "Are you avoiding me, (Y/n)?"
After what happened earlier? Oh, you should've been, but no, you weren't...at least, not intentionally. Taking a deep breath, you look around before speaking up. "I'm gonna...go see how Peter's holding up."
You drifted, dancing near the edges of groups, getting pulled into half-hearted conversations with half-sober Ravagers and aliens in glittery face paint. But Adam was always there—watching without pressing, standing just far enough to give you space. Your drink was gone now, traded for a lollypop someone shoved into your hand with a slurred "Happy Humanween." Humanween? You didn't eat it, preferring your promised Twizzlers, which were nowhere to be seen. Instead, you rolled the stick between your fingers and your mind elsewhere. Still aware of him.
Then Peter—bless his drunk, clumsy soul—came barreling in out of nowhere, arms wide and voice loud, a bottle in one hand, and absolutely no concept of personal space, as usual.
"(Y/n)!" he called like he hadn't seen you some hours ago. His shoulder caught yours mid-spin, not hard, but enough to send you slightly off balance, your heel catching on the edge of the floor panel.
You were falling—until you weren't.
A hand wrapped around your upper arm, firm and warmer than others. Another gently caught your waist, steady and grounding.
Adam.
The contact wasn't much. Two hands, a beat of closeness, but it was enough. Too much.
It felt like something clicked, as if a thread snapped into place between your body and his, humming. Loud. Burning. Almost overbearing. You inhaled, chest still against his as you blinked at him, confused—for the first time— not by him, but by you.
Because you felt it. Whatever he had been talking about outside your room, all that talk of a magnetic pull, cosmic alignment—you felt it now, you think. It hit you fast and bright, like a fucking supernova, and far too much all at once.
You moved back quickly. Not dramatically. Okay...maybe a bit dramatic, but it was enough to break the contact. Adam's hands dropped, and though it wasn't visible, the imprint stayed. You could feel it.
"I—Peter's drunk," you used as an excuse to leave.
Adam's expression didn't change. But something in his eyes did. Softer. Knowing. He didn't have to say I told you so. He didn't even say anything at all.
He didn't have to because he knows you felt it. And worse? You know it, too.
Still—you wouldn't admit it. Not out loud. Not to him.
So you straightened your dress, fixed your hair like nothing happened, and pretended your heart wasn't beating inside your throat.
Adam said nothing, simply watching you with that same quiet hunger.
—☆ SUPERNOVA (5 Months Later)
It wasn't supposed to go this way. The mission was simple enough—answer the distress call of the Valturians and help out in whatever way was needed. You decided to tag along with the Guardians to help after Rocket bugged you about being a valuable asset. He also tried convincing you to join the Guardians, which you refused, and he may have tried to buy off your ship.
Though, you really wish you hadn't come.
Multiple fleets of the Kree appeared—a species you didn't exactly hate but were very annoyed with. However, a massive ship came out of hyperspace this time along with the fleet, sitting just above the atmosphere of Valtur. A loud voice boomed from the ship, practically shaking the ground.
"I hoped you would come, (Y/n). My men have been watching you. You didn't think that your destruction upon my fleet the other day would result in no punishment, did you?"
It was Al-Null—the leader who had stepped up to replace Ronan, The Accuser.
"I guess that's what happens when your cowardly ass ain't there with your men. I mean, come on, did you watch from your little jerk-off corner? Because listen, if you get off on that stuff, I'd say you need some therapy, buddy." The insult was very Peter-coded, showing just how much time you spent around him when you were with Yondu.
"You dare? You, the great mistake. Your father was the coward, and spineless to fall for some weak, pathetic excuse for an incubator. She died giving birth to something which was never meant to be. And you? You killed her. Since the day you were born you have caused nothing but chaos..."
The smile slowly fades off your face. And then, there's silence. At least, you think there is, but apparently, Al-Null kept going on and on. You couldn't hear him. You couldn't hear anything but your heart beating with such intensity that it felt like your head would explode.
Peter tenses up, having seen the degree of your powers firsthand. Gamora's hand hovers over her blaster inside her holster, though not exactly for the Kree. She knows what you can do because Peter told her before, but she also knows that a blaster won't stop you. Not even close.
The rage builds within you like a supernova waiting to burst. Your vision begins to blur at the edges, turning red with fury. You can feel your celestial power surging through your veins, threatening to overflow. Your feet lift off the ground as energy crackles around you.
"(Y/n)," Adam's voice cuts through the haze, steady and grounding. "Look at me."
But you can't. All you see is the massive Kree ship and all you hear are Al-Null's words about your mother echoing in your mind. The power builds, your hands glowing with energy as you prepare to unleash devastation upon the fleet.
"She is losing control," Mantis whispers, her antennae quivering with anxiety.
Peter steps forward cautiously. "(Y/n), hey, don't listen to that blue asshole—"
With a scream, you take off up into space, a colorful aura of hot energy trailing behind you like a flying torch.
The first ship explodes before anyone can react, pieces of metal and screaming Kree soldiers tumbling through the void of space. You're a blazing comet, your celestial power unleashed in its rawest form. Another blast from your hands tears through a second vessel, then a third.
"By the stars," Drax murmurs, watching the destruction from below.
Adam doesn't hesitate. He launches himself upward, his own golden energy propelling him toward you. He can feel your pain, your rage—a hurricane of emotions that threatens to consume not just the Kree fleet but yourself.
In space, surrounded by debris and fire, you hover before Al-Null's command ship, hands raised to obliterate it. Your body pulses with celestial light, eyes glowing with power no half-human should possess. You don’t remember what happened next, but you do remember that it was cold, and quiet, your body floating without any constraints of gravity.
—☆ TETHER
When you awake, it's not in the vacuum of space or surrounded by the wreckage of Kree ships. You're in a dimly lit room, lying on something soft. Your body feels heavy, drained of the celestial energy that had threatened to tear you apart.
"She's awake," Mantis says softly from somewhere nearby.
You try to sit up, but a gentle hand presses against your shoulder. "Don't," Adam says, his voice closer than you expected. "Your body needs time to recover."
As your vision clears, you see him sitting beside you, his expression unreadable yet somehow concerned. Behind him, Peter paces nervously while Gamora watches from the doorway.
"What happened?" Your voice is hoarse, barely audible.
"You nearly destroyed an entire Kree armada," Gamora answers matter-of-factly.
"Cool…," you manage to utter, your voice barely more than a whisper, strained and fragile.
Peter takes a tentative step toward you, his face etched with concern. "You should sleep. Al-Null escaped, but most of his fleet is scattered across three sectors."
"Doesn't matter," you mutter, attempting to push yourself up again. "He's still out there. He’s still—"
"You need recovery time," Gamora interjects firmly. "Even celestials have limits."
Adam's gaze hasn't left your face since you awoke, his golden eyes tracking every expression that crosses your features. There's something different in the way he's looking at you now—not hungry, but... protective. Soft.
"We'll check on the Valturians," Rocket announces, already heading for the door. "Make sure they ain't got more surprises waitin'."
"I am Groot," comes the agreeable response.
Peter hesitates, clearly torn between going off with the Guardians and staying to watch you. He comes to the decision to go off with them, but, Adam stays, much to your slight annoyance. You had planned to just sneak off when they were all gone.
"We'll be back soon," Peter says with a final concerned glance. "Just... stay put, okay?"
You nod halfheartedly, waiting for the door to slide shut behind the Guardians before immediately throwing your legs over the side of the bed. Your body feels surprisingly good—the celestial half of you working overtime to repair the damage.
"Where do you think you're going?" Adam's voice is calm but firm as he steps between you and the door.
"To finish what I started," you reply, standing up straight. "Al-Null is still out there."
"No." The single word carries the weight of a thousand. Adam doesn't raise his voice, but his eyes shine with intensity.
"Move, Adam. This isn't your fight."
He steps closer, golden skin catching the dim light. "You nearly burned yourself out. Even with your healing abilities, that level of power expenditure—“
“I said move.”
He stays put, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes now harder—firm and demanding. “No. You’re not leaving.”
A surge of anger rushes through you. Who does he think he is to tell you what you can and cannot do? The energy within you flickers to life again, not as powerful as before, but enough to make the air around you thick with tension.
"Get out of my way," you hiss, taking a step forward. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, a faint glow emanating from beneath your skin.
Adam doesn't budge. Instead, he moves closer, his own cosmic energy rising to meet yours. The space between you becomes charged, golden tendrils of his power weaving with the aura of yours.
"I will not let you destroy yourself," he says, voice dropping lower. "Your recklessness will be your undoing."
"My 'recklessness' is none of your concern!" You shove against his chest, but he barely moves. His body is warm and solid against your palms, and the contact sends a jolt through your system, like it did months ago at the Halloween party. You hadn't come into physical contact with him since that day.
"Get out of my way," you snarl, shoving harder this time, your energy flaring. The room's lights flicker as your power pulses outward.
Adam's hand suddenly catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "Enough." His voice has dropped an octave, resonating with authority.
"Let go of me!" You wrench your arm, but he holds fast, pulling you closer until your bodies are nearly flush against each other. The air between you crackles with energy—yours wild and chaotic, his controlled but equally potent.
"You're not thinking clearly," he says, his face now inches from yours. "Your emotions are clouding your mind. Don't be rash."
You’d come to regret what you do next, but a small part of you wouldn't, and never will. You emit a sudden wave of energy, sending Adam flying back against the wall, hitting it hard enough to leave a small crack. “I told you to move.”
You make a beeline for the door, your mind focused on one thing. Al-Null.
You barely make it two steps before a golden blur moves with inhuman speed. Adam is suddenly before you, his eyes blazing with an intensity you've never seen from him. In one fluid motion, he grabs your shoulders and spins you around, pushing you back against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs.
"No," he growls, pinning you there with his body. His hands move to capture your wrists, holding them firmly against the wall on either side of your head. "You will listen to me."
Your celestial energy surges in response to the threat, but Adam's power counters it immediately, creating a cocoon of golden light that seems to dampen your abilities. You struggle against his grip, but his strength matches yours in your weakened state.
"Let me go!" you snarl, thrashing against his hold.
Adam leans closer, his face mere inches from yours. "You would risk your life for revenge," he says, his voice dangerously low. "I cannot allow that."
Something shifts in his eyes—a decision made—and suddenly his grip tightens. You feel it then, a strange sensation like a thread being pulled from deep within your chest, connecting to him. His eyes glow brighter, the golden light intensifying as he presses his forehead against yours.
"If you won't listen to reason," he whispers, "then feel what I feel."
A wave of foreign emotion crashes into you—concern so deep it borders on anguish, fear so primal it makes your heart race, and beneath it all, a devotion so absolute it takes your breath away. These aren't your feelings. They're his.
"What are you doing to me?" you gasp, trembling under the weight of his emotions pouring into you.
"A soul bond."
Your body suddenly feels weak as the wave of emotions crash over you. Was this everything he felt? All this time? All of this, and yet he always managed to seem like everything was under control—the complete opposite of you. You somewhat tried to snap out of it, feelings of anger still there. “Stop…I don’t understand..,” you breathe, your resistance weakening as the soul bond takes hold.
His golden eyes bore into yours, pupils dilated with something primal. "I've tethered us together," he murmurs., "Now you'll understand."
The connection between you pulses like a living thing, and suddenly your senses are heightened, every point where his body touches yours sending electric currents through your skin. Your anger dissolves into something else entirely—a mixture of pain and longing that mirrors his own.
"I can feel everything you feel," Adam whispers, his grip on your wrists loosening but not releasing. "Your rage, your pain...”
You gasp as his emotions flood through you—possessiveness, need, and a desperate yearning that makes your knees weak. The bond amplifies everything, creating a feedback loop of sensation between you, as if trying to take away, or rather, distract your anger.
Adam's eyes narrow, something dark and primal flickering across his face. In one fluid motion, he spins you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, his body flush against your back. The heat of him radiates through your clothes, his breathing heavy against your ear.
His arm snakes around, fingers splaying across your throat before moving upward to grasp your face, thumb and fingers gently digging into your cheeks as he tilts your head back against his shoulder.
"Do you remember what I asked of you?" he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "When I came to your door?" His grip on your face is firm but careful, holding you in place as if you might slip away. "I asked to court you."
You don't answer—can't answer with his fingers pressing into your cheeks, but your true feelings become clear through the soul bond.
"You truly feel it now," he breathes, the words vibrating against your skin. "The connection that's been there since I first sensed you across this galaxy. My mate."
"Mate? What are you—"
But Adam doesn't explain, doesn't pause to clarify. He captures your mouth with his own before you can finish, your body still sandwiched between him and the cold wall, though his higher-than-average body temperature provided the perfect warmth. The kiss was far from gentle, instead full of possession and need.
His hand drifts from your face to your throat, not squeezing too hard but maintaining enough pressure to hold you in place. His other hand slips beneath your top, his palm pressed flat against your stomach to pull you closer as his lips roughly claim yours. Eventually, he parts them, leaving behind a thin thread of mixed saliva lingering between your lips before it breaks.
"I've been waiting," he murmurs softly by your ear, "ever since I first sensed you." His hand moves lower, dangerously near your clothed core, then his fingers travel over the delicate fabric of your panties before venturing further down to explore the damp spot beneath.
"Adam," you gasp as his fingers confidently press against your mound.
"Is this the effect I have on you?"
You bite back a moan as his digits locate the side seam of the soft fabric and tug it aside just enough to expose you.
“You don't need to voice it. I already know,” he whispers, gently running his fingers through your slick folds, tracing a line up to your clit before pressing down, testing your reaction.
"Oh—" you sigh, tensing as a jolt shoots through your nerves. While you have touched yourself before, the connection between your souls amplifies everything. You barely have time to register how different this feels as his fingers begin with light, deliberate strokes before progressing into slow, circular motions. "Adam…"
To your mixed frustration and arousal, he withdraws his hand from your pants, instead grabbing your hip firmly, leaving your core softly pulsating, getting wetter by the second.
"You're coming with me."
—☆ COCOON
His room is simple yet filled with lush green plants that fill the space with warmth and a welcoming energy—every scent in the room reminiscent of him, intensified by the soul bond.
His hands stay on your hips as he gently guides you against the wall by his bed. Leaning in close, his lips brush behind your ear while his nose caresses your skin as he takes in your scent. “I need you to smell more like…me.”
Smirking against his tousled blonde hair, you tease, “You take me to your room and yet you don’t put me on your bed,” while he continues to nuzzle, savoring every nuance.
His tongue flicks behind your ear before traveling down to your neck, sending shivers that ripple between your thighs. “I know,” he murmurs against your skin.
You shudder at the moist trail of his tongue, surprised by how soft it feels despite his synthetic nature. “You’re like a damn cat…”
“I’m not exactly sure what a cat is, (Y/n),” he replies, as his hands slide from your hips to your ribcage. With large, steady hands, he lifts you off the floor. “But if that’s how they behave, maybe I am.”
His bed is firm—a perfect match for him if not entirely for you—and he settles on his side behind you, drawing your body close so you blend together. One of his arms wraps around your neck gently, while his hand travels along your collarbone, down to your chest. His fingers brush over your hardened nipple through the fabric of your top, pinching it lightly with curious care.
“Hmm,” he purrs, shifting from a soft pinch to cradling your breast with a gentle squeeze. Meanwhile, his other hand glides briefly across your stomach before returning to your growing center. “You’re... so soft.”
His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties again, finding you wet and wanting. The bond between you heightens every sensation—you feel his touch as deeply as he feels the effect it has on you. “And here, too,” he murmurs, slowly gliding his fingers up and down, deliberately teasing the wet heat of your folds before lightly rubbing your clit.
A quiet moan fills the room as his fingers pick up pace, each rhythmic movement sending waves of pleasure through you. He shifts slightly, partly laying over you, pressing his hardness against your ass even as his hand continues its exploration. His warm, erratic breath against your neck reveals his own mounting desire. “I want you to feel what I feel,” he whispers with raw intensity.
The energy between you builds as Adam’s presence seems to fill the space. Moving his hand lower, he pushes two long fingers inside you, meeting no resistance as you arch your hips toward him.
“Adam—” you breathe, but your voice falters as he curls upward, finding that soft spot inside and pressing with precise intensity.
A rush comes over you, skin tingling like pins and needles, your muscles tightening around his fingers. Your breath catches in sharp cries as they curl again, fucking you with a steady rhythm until you feel yourself cumming around them.
He doesn’t stop. Even as your body shudders with aftershocks, his fingers remain, now moving slowly and tenderly as they explore each reaction. “So responsive,” he murmurs against your neck, withdrawing his hand to taste you. “Your taste,” he breathes, as if it were the most precious flavor.
Before you can reply, Adam moves with fluid precision down your body until his shoulders rest between your legs. His hands press firmly on your thighs, gently spreading you open. “I need more.”
His golden eyes lock onto yours—seeing you wet, flushed, and completely exposed. He leans in, his breath sending shivers through your already sensitive core. Then his mouth latches onto you, warmth and urgency igniting every nerve as his tongue replaces his fingers.
“Oh fuck—Adam,” you gasp, the sound airy in the heavy room.
He doesn’t pause or hesitate. His focus is complete, consuming. The bond magnifies everything—the texture of his tongue as it works its way inside you, pushing deeper before flicking up around your clit with steady precision. The friction sends waves through your body, overwhelming and perfect all at once.
You writhe beneath him, gasping as his grip tightens on your thighs to keep you still. The tension coils inside you, rising so fast it steals your breath and turns it into ragged cries.
Even as you cry out, he doesn’t relent. Your body tenses again, but he keeps going like he needs every last drop of you.
“Adam,” you plead softly.
His response is a low, vibrating hum that sends tremors through you. He shifts his hold on your thighs, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your hips with sure guidance. The change makes you gasp as his hands spread you open. You squirm beneath him, desperate for more than just his mouth.
Holding you there, exposed and needy, he commands softly, “Be good.”
His mouth resumes its work with unwavering hunger, the wet heat of his tongue driving you wild as his hand lands with a quick, light smack on your ass. The sharp sensation makes you catch your breath, your body jolting in surprise.
“Adam,” you gasp again, his name melting into a moan as he soothes the sting with his palm before delivering another firm, playful slap—adding to the building intensity inside you.
“That…was for earlier,” he whispers against your slick heat before plunging his tongue back inside. His hands keep your hips steady while he devours you from behind, each movement pushing you closer to a place you have never reached. His hand slips between your legs, his fingers exploring until they find you wet and swollen, then push inside again, moving with a rhythm that matches his tongue.
The intensity builds impossibly as he takes you higher, pushing beyond any limit you’ve ever known. The motions of his mouth and fingers combine into a perfect storm of sensation that leaves you breathless, gasping for something you can’t name.
“Too much,” you choke out, barely audible amid the overwhelming rush. But it isn’t too much—it’s exactly what you need.
A tidal wave of pleasure surges through you, larger than anything you’ve ever known. And then—
You’re cumming—and, you’re squirting. A lot.
He pulls back slightly, watching with fascination as you ride the aftershocks. Breath ragged, you search for words—but Adam shifts again, his movements deliberate as he climbs up your body, slowing down until you find yourself pressed against his chest.
“Turn around,” he murmurs darkly in your ear, his hands guiding your hips until you face him, breathless and ready.
His mouth meets yours once more with an urgent, unapologetic kiss. His hands are everywhere—one tangling in your hair to tilt your head back for deeper access, another sliding down your back while one more grabs your ass, pulling you against the hard outline of his suit. His need is clear, insistent as he rolls his hips with growing urgency.
You feel his hardness, the bond amplifying every touch until your pulse races and you grind against him. The friction makes you gasp into his kiss, and he swallows your sounds with matching hunger.
Breaking the kiss, he watches you with a look of pure possession, as if he’s claiming every part of you, before his fingers trace gently across your lips. “I need to know,” he murmurs softly, “every part of you.”
With a subtle insistence, he guides your lips to his fingers, letting you taste him. You hum softly against his skin as your tongue meets his touch, exploring deeper.
His eyes darken at the feeling, a new fascination taking over. The slick warmth of your mouth wraps around him, and he pushes further than expected—just a little too far—brushing the back of your throat.
You gag slightly, eyes wide as the small sound echoes between you. He seems to enjoy it—more than he probably should—and a dark thrill pulses through him, leaving both of you breathless with need. He pushes further, feeling the wet, flexible tissue, earning another soft gag from you, to which he groans in satisfaction.
His fingers slip from your mouth, leaving you flushed and gasping. “I want all of you,” he murmurs, voice low and claiming. “Everywhere.”
With sudden speed, he rolls onto his back and pulls you up to straddle him, your thighs spread beside his waist. His hands hold your hips firmly, positioning you as if he’s certain this is where you belong.
The thin fabric of his suit does little to hide the hard length pressed against you. He rocks upward so you can feel the full weight of his desire. You can barely breathe as he holds you there, his eyes burning into yours with a look that leaves no doubt—you’re his.
“Take it off,” he orders softly.
You’ve never seen him so raw and demanding.
His fingers dig into your hips, guiding the movement as you press against him. You’re flushed and breathless, the urgency in his touch mirrored by your own desire.
Somewhere along the way, he had stripped you of all your clothes. It was only right to return the favor. Your hands tremble until they reach the seam of his suit, peeling it away to reveal the hard, eager length straining between his thighs. The sight was…ethereal. It was thick, very thick, and just the perfect length for you. The base matched his golden skin, while the color fades to a lighter gold towards the tip.
Lifting you slightly, he positions you above him with confidence that quickens your pulse. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance, slick already from his earlier efforts. He doesn’t push inside—not yet—but the pressure is enough to leave you trembling.
“I want you,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “I want you now.”
There’s no question about who’s in charge—and you realize just how much you crave him. With a firm grip on your hips, he lifts you just enough to let the head tease your entrance before slowly letting you sink down. It’s both intense and teasing, filling you inch by inch until he’s deep inside.
“Ohh fuck…big…you’re so…”
Not ready to give up control, his hands still guide your hips as you ride him slowly at first, adjusting to the fullness and heat inside. The rhythm is gentle, allowing each shared sensation to build with the bond linking you.
You tilt your head back with a moan, your body arching as his movements stretch you perfectly. Even now, every pulse sends waves of pleasure through both of you.
Then it becomes too much for him to hold back.
The primal need takes over. His grip tightens and he starts thrusting harder, faster—a force that makes you cry out.
His hands leave your hips, gliding up your back to pull you closer against him. Your chests meet, and he wraps his arms around you, locking you in place as he drives into you with raw, unrestrained force.
Every thrust sends shockwaves of sensation, each movement deep and deliberate, claiming you again and again.
Adam’s breath is hot against your neck, ragged with desire as he thrusts relentlessly. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the space, accompanied by his low growls and your breathless cries.
“Is that good? You like this? Tell me you do.”
“Y-Yes, I—,” Clinging tightly to him, your fingers dig into his shoulders as he fucks you harder in response.
“Good,” he breathes against your skin, a single word full of possession.
A soft glow begins to shine behind your eyes, resembling the colors of your celestial aura, reflecting in his burning gaze. The sight sends a shiver through him, and his eyes blaze with soft gold as he watches you unravel in his embrace.
The room grows thick with heat and tension, your bodies slick with sweat. His grip tightens even more, drawing you closer until there’s no space left.
“Fuck—Adam!” You cry out as the friction builds impossibly high, pushing you both to the edge.
The rush of sensation becomes overwhelming—you could feel everything he felt on top of how his cock rammed inside you over and over. Then, in an explosion of pleasure, you’re cumming.
A surge of energy courses through every nerve as your body convulses, releasing all at once. You tremble, barely coherent, while Adam’s mouth remains on you, savoring all of you.
He pulls back slightly, watching with fascination as you ride the aftershocks. The bond between you amplifies everything, until it feels like every sensation is doubled. His steady hold keeps you grounded as your body trembles against him.
Catching your breath, you try to find words, but Adam moves with quick precision, turning you over onto your back, still inside of you.
He's relentless now, determined and unyielding as he pins you beneath him, fucking you with raw intensity, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the sounds filling the room. The shift leaves you gasping, unable to find words.
With a deep groan, he moves faster, harder—a force of nature that leaves you breathless. His hands seize your wrists again, pinning them above your head with firm control.
“You’re mine,” he breathes fiercely, his eyes wild with hunger.
You can barely respond as each thrust sends shockwaves through you, building into a storm of shared sensation that fills every inch of space.
“Adam,” you gasp, barely coherent as white-hot pleasure takes over.
With a primal growl, he drives into you one last time—deep and claiming. Then he cums so hard that it leaves him trembling above you. A low groan escapes his lips as he fills you completely, the hot temperature of his cum rushing through your pussy.
He keeps moving, his hips rocking with focused intent like he wants to fill you until there’s no space left. “So much,” he whispers in awe, voice low and rough. “Take all of it.”
You feel him emptying into you—again and again—each pulse deliberate and consuming. The sensation is overwhelming, a flood that leaves you gasping.
He slows but doesn't stop, his thrusts shallow and steady, aiming right at your g-spot as his release seems endless. His lips brush your ear, murmuring with soft insistence that makes your heart race. “I’ll fill you with everything,” he breathes, the words wrapping around you like a promise. “Make you mine completely.”
The bond amplifies each word, every sensation, until it takes over your body entirely. Breathless and overwhelmed, you arch against him as the feeling builds again.
“Oh—fuck!” Another orgasm rushes through you in waves of overwhelming release. Your body tightens around him, leaving you breathless and shaking beneath him.
Adam holds you still, his primal need unrelenting as he fills you with consuming warmth. He groans, low and satisfied, whispering your name like a claim.
Seconds feel like minutes that stretch into forever, until he slows to a stop, body tense and trembling above you.
Then he pulls out, finally, his thick cum spilling from you. But Adam’s fingers are already there, picking up whatever he could, which was leaking out from your used hole from the sheer volume of it all.
Oh—
His brows knit with focus as though a sudden new fascination overtakes him. His thick seed leaks past his fingers even as they slide in and out, faster now, until wet sounds fill the room and your breath catches ragged in your throat.
You gasp, knowing what he's trying to do—and embarrassed despite yourself after what happened earlier. The sight of it had entranced him too much. Again? Really?
“Wait—,” you plead, your hands already moving to try and stop him.
Adam shifts up and his hand catches your face, firm and commanding. He holds you there, keeping your eyes locked on his as he watches each reaction, intent and consuming. His fingers never slow, relentless as they push deeper, stretching and filling you with everything he has.
“Let me,” he whispers.
You writhe beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the steady pressure inside you. The bond amplifies each sensation until it feels like too much. You’re already so close again—and Adam knows it.
A dark thrill pulses through him as he picks up speed, driving into you with raw precision. He wants to see you cum again like you did—a crying, squirting mess. And judging by that look in his eyes, he doesn’t plan on stopping there.
"Be good," he breathes, his grip tightening on your face.
Your pulse races as his fingers pistoned into you with building force, reaching deeper than before. "You're gonna...make me cum..." You can barely breathe, the relentless rhythm pushing you higher until—
You cum again, a flood of sensation and warmth erupting in a way that leaves you gasping for air. This time it's even more intense, your body releasing with such force that you feel it everywhere. An almost transparent, milky liquid rushes past his hand in hot, uncontrollable waves, soaking him completely. Your eyes roll back as the bond flares bright behind them. "Fucking hell—Adam!" you cry out, voice breaking with each surge of pleasure.
Adam watches in awe, golden eyes wide as he sees you unravel beneath him. His breath catches at the sight of your wetness spilling over his fingers, dripping onto the sheets with each convulsion of your body.
He grows harder still at the sight—the pressure so intense that it pushes him over.
“(Y/n)—” The word escapes his lips in a low groan as he cums hard and untouched, white hot ropes spilling across your stomach.
He continues fucking you with his fingers, his touch relentless despite his own release. The pleasure is overwhelming, eventually your body shaking with aftershocks. Only then does he slow, watching as the last tremors rock through you.
Breathless and exhausted, you collapse against the sheets, your skin damp and flushed. Adam pulls his hand away finally, fingers glistening wet as he traces them up your stomach before bringing them to his lips.
He tastes you slowly, deliberately—his gaze locked on yours with a look of pure possession. You can feel the effect it has on him as though it were your own.
The bond still flares bright between you, every shared sensation magnified until it feels like there’s no boundary left. For the first time, you understand what it means to belong completely to someone—and have them belong entirely to you.
You draw in a ragged breath while your body shudders beneath him. “You’re insane,” you murmur softly against his lips.
Adam's mouth curves into a slight, breathless grin. He shifts onto his side next to you, pulling your body close and keeping it there. “Then you are, too.”
Knowing you’re not going anywhere now, Adam’s arms wrap around you with an unyielding grip. His breath is warm against your skin as he nuzzles against you, his need to mark with scent strong. He seems content to have you so close, to feel every inch of you pressed against him in the quiet aftermath.
You draw a deep breath, letting your senses adjust to the new reality between you. It feels different now—right. Like something that was missing has finally clicked into place.
Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.
Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!
happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.
the divider
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Tonight, you dream.
You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying.
Except when he's in them.
The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that.
You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.
You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams.
You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry.
"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew.
He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.
"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."
"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."
Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you.
"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food."
Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl.
"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."
"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."
"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."
Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.
"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound.
"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity."
"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”
"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."
He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes.
You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible.
(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.)
"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."
You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs.
"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything."
"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."
"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."
"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly.
"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."
“He treated you well.”
“When I fell in line,” he says.
You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away.
"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."
You roll your eyes.
"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."
"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."
"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."
"That's—"
You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light.
And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor.
"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."
You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs.
It's something a queen would wear.
"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."
"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."
"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."
"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."
Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream.
"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."
"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man."
"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says.
You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"
Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"
"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."
He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”
Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.
But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know.
And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate.
"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.”
But your legs part for him to kneel between.
"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."
Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one.
"This is cruel," you whine.
"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”
“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you.
“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you.
His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.
It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.
"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."
"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real.
"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display.
Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry.
You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.
"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back.
He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster.
You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away.
"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.
"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."
His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look.
"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."
You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."
His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.
Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away.
"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."
"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."
Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.
"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."
The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months.
You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late.
Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you.
You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.
it’s also not even HIS money, it’s his father’s money, made from apartheid emerald mining. that money was made from the blood and suffering of countless poor people of color so the rich could wear pretty rocks.
elon musk has never done or made anything valuable or worthwhile in his life.
excuse me for stating the obvious but like. james gunn outright calling superman an immigrant and doubling down on it when he got backlash (because he IS an immigrant, that's the point of superman) + the in-movie dialogue of "aren't you going to read me my rights?" "you're an extraterrestrial, son. you haven't got any rights to read." + the violence of his arrest and how they torture and mistreat him unapologetically, all under the guise of "protecting america", in a film releasing during the onslaught of violent ICE kidnappings and abuse... yeah it's really no wonder right-wing knobheads are crying about this being woke. they're being forced to look directly at the reasons one of the most notorious heroes of all time would not be on their side. and that's only ONE of the reasons this movie covers
🔊🔊 END STAGE DISCOURSE!! END STAGE DISCOURSE!! WE HAVE ARRIVED AT "FICTIONAL SEX IS COERCIVE BECAUSE CHARACTERS ARE BEING FORCED TO DO THINGS BY THE AUTHOR"!!!! 🔊🔊
My favorite professor, shout out Glenn, would interrupt students who were saying "Well XYZ clearly felt--" and go "No, backtrack, scratch that. They are a character. Not a person. They don't have any thoughts other than what the writer clearly specifies on paper they have. Don't give agency to nonliving things, they are not real, they never were real, and it is dangerous to lose that line."
He was a sweet man and raised in the Midwest so interrupting people hurt his very soul, that's how dangerous he felt the idea of losing the line of fiction was.
He notably also taught a course called Bible in Lit which I took and those lines came back a lot.
FUCK ICE, free palestine, free congo, FUCK trump, FUCK musk, no one is illegal on stolen land, and if u disagree, FUCK YOU TOO!!!
i’ve said this before but if u support that fuckass orange in office, idc if ur a silent follower or ur like is ur only form of interacting with me, just know, i don’t want it!!! and u are a terrible person!!! 😛
