just a normal afternoon in the no vacancy apartment / freddie + nico / @mitchierps
"Too much-"
His words are soft, pained maybe, dipping into the edge of desperation. Freddie’s proud though, they’re usually a mess at this point — they’re kind of proud that he’s holding out more than usual. Still, of course, that only motivates them to be meaner.
"What was that baby? Speak up."
Nico whines. There it is. They pick up their pace now, sliding up and down his cock at a pace that’s probably mean considering they can feel him twitch inside them in short, intense bursts every time they bottom out. The slick that is his come from his second orgasm makes it far easier for them to do it too. Heat and sparks tingle their skin when his cock hits the deepest parts in them that it’s hard to continue thinking, but they don’t let that stop them — which also reminds them that he’s due for another orgasm soon…
Freddie adjusts themselves, moving up enough that his tip just barely leaves their warmth. There’s a moment where Nico looks at them, maybe a little worried — for leaving or for potentially going harder, they don’t know. But that sparks an even brighter match in their belly. They use the rope that’s taut in patterns across his skin, shoving his cock in him and gripping the rope so they can ride him harder, faster.
Their boyfriend squirms and squeals under them, but the restraints around his wrists don’t let him go far. It only makes them smirk wider.
“Freddie-” he whimpers, and the sound of their name said so desperately knocks the wind out of them.
They stop abruptly, his twitchy, drooly dick buried in them, rutting forwards so their throbbing growth is rubbed enough that there’s some sort of relief in the pleasure.
“What is it?”
Nico murmurs, words soft and jumbled. He’s so thoroughly overstimulated that he can’t speak proper — the sight makes Freddie giddy with heat.
They suck on their teeth. "Come on, we know what happens to sluts who don't say what they want.”
They can read every line of hesitation on their face, deciding, thinking if he should say the next thing. Trying to weigh his own frayed senses and the need to come again. They don’t say anything for a moment, letting him decide.
Knowing he’ll say the right thing.
“Can I come?”
The words are jumbled, muttered at best, but the swell of pride and relief Freddie feels is obvious.
“Since you asked so nice-” They get off their knees and up on their feet, using the rope to help balance them on their own shaky balance. “No taking it back though.”
And before Nico can say another word, his eyebrows shoot up almost like in fear, they’re fucking him. Nice and thorough, the grip of them around him tight and hot, enough that they’re sure his bandmates are going to hear them again.
Not that Freddie gives a fuck though. There’s a pride to it — no one else can make him sound like this.
(Nico probably needs to move out, but what's the fun in that?)
