Loki getting creampied and bred by dom male reader that is my requests
Author's Note: It's always a good day to breed the god of mischief 😌
Warnings: male reader, dom top reader, established engagement, anal, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffs, multiple orgasms and crazy stamina for both of you, mild hints of mpreg (nothing explicit)
Green star divider created by @/pixopix
Trickery is his specialty — but that doesn't mean that you aren't capable of a little trickery of your own.
To even get someone like him into this position is a mighty feat in and of itself. Not because it's impossible, simply because it takes careful planning from a mind that's equally as devious and cunning as his own.
An offhand compliment about his appearance today. Fingers gracefully teasing down his arms, tickling the hairs in such a way that makes goosebumps materialize on his skin. A little peck on the cheek, then another, and another, confessing that you adore your lover's gentle expression when you kiss him. Loki's immediate suspicion, countered by your hands in his, gliding along each digit so tenderly, yet clinging to them as if you can't let go. A flick of the wrist and a cheeky bite to his lip, and the next thing your lover senses is a pair of metal restraints clamped around his wrists.
But, with your arms so lovingly wrapped around his torso, and that deceptive smile tugging your lips upwards, he finds himself willing to go along with your game for the time being.
Another bruising thrust has the man's vision blurring for a second; static invading the edges of his sight as the lengthy cock digging around in his guts forces yet another embarrassing noise out of him.
Every drag, every movement causes the wettest squelching you'll ever hear, partially from the lube, partially from two thick loads you'd already squeezed inside of his body. As Loki's forehead presses down on the table, his own twitchy cock prepares for a release he'd been denied twice before, drooling enough that it could already be mistaken for his release.
You promised him that he could cum, but only once you'd filled him three times. (And every multiple of three… but he doesn't need to know how much you intend to breed him upfront~) So, with your hips snapping forward in a broken rhythm, and soft grunts next to his ear, Loki greedily accepts your offer, awaiting the familiar surge of your seed before he paints the ground with his own, trembling all the way through.
“Gnngh… gods, you feel good…” you groan into the crook of Loki's neck.
He knows the words aren't empty praise — most of your weight is pressing him down, and you're drilling into him like a desperate mutt, with a grip so secure that he swears you're trying to embed your fingerprints into his sides. Whenever you aren't letting him know how deliciously wet he is around your cock, your praise comes through in whines against his shoulder, teeth grazing his pale flesh in tandem with your thrusts. Surely, it isn't all bravado.
The stickiness between Loki's legs gets worse as your wild pounding pushes more and more cum out of him, dripping down his legs and adding to the wet cacophony of noises. If you look down, you'd be able to see the myriad lines connecting yourselves, a sinful mixture of your own fluids and your lover's precum becoming one lewd mess. Were his hands not bound behind his back, he would be using them to add even more into the wet mix, stroking himself in time with your rough hip work.
Your voice cracks as you feel yourself nearing yet another orgasm, sweaty hair sticks to the edges of your face, and you hold Loki's hips tighter while you warn: “Haah– close a-again… going to… mmfh-!! B-breed you, fuuuck!!”
That warmth floods his entire body for the third time this evening. A flush of heat, creeping across his skin and stirring deep in the pit of his stomach.
‘Breed’. What a choice word for you to use — and a filthy one at that. Implying a sense of ownership, or type of procreation. …He'd be lying if he said that the implications of that didn't make his heart skip a beat. And the reaction between his legs isn't lost to you either…
Loki's breath hitches upon feeling your body come to a halt, burying your dick up to the hilt. Between three fat loads and your tip hammering them further inside, he's starting to feel bloated… if his belly bulges, wouldn't it look like he's…?
It's not particularly easy to piece his thoughts together with the way you're rutting into him, grinding so deep that his feet lift off the ground, but Loki manages to ask his question while catching his breath.
“That word you used, darling…” he swallows thickly, turning his head so you can hear him a bit clearer. “what was that about?”
Still connected by the hips, your dick already becoming soft after so much overuse, you tuck a lock of silky hair behind your beloved's ear. “You'll have to be more specific, love. I'm drawing a blank here.” an exhausted chuckle follows your sentence.
“I heard you use the term ‘breed’…?” he clarifies. An air of uncertainty in his words that you're not used to.
Hearing him actually say that out loud, well, you'd be crazy not to be a little hot and bothered. An embarrassing flush spreads beneath your skin at the reflexive twitch in your cock, and the realization that Loki probably felt it. “Oh, w-well… yes, that is the word I used…” you trail off. Your mind becomes lost amongst the various thoughts of your future, the expectations placed upon both your shoulders and your fiance's, and your own selfish desires.
A slight jingle followed by warm fingers curling around your wrist pulls you right out of your daze. That familiar touch that always grounds you when you're floating off in space.
“Out with it then, something has been bothering that pretty head of yours for days now.” Loki flips himself on the table. His gaze is expectant and slightly annoyed — as it usually is whenever you keep things from him, good or bad.
His palms cup your cheeks, and it's as if those worries that plagued you melt right off into the ether (even if the handcuffs hanging off one wrist look a bit silly).
One look into your darling's eyes has a confession rolling off of your tongue easily. “It's just… we're going to be married soon, and with marriage comes certain expectations from our parents…”
“You're not talking about political status, are you?”
You shake your head, face burning up as the truth finally slips. “No, I'm talking about them wanting grandkids, sweetheart.”
Left without words, Loki blinks in astonishment. Grandkids. Kids. YOUR KIDS?! Together?!
Now this is something that genuinely stops the trickster in his path. You mean to tell him that you've been thinking about– no, fussing over the prospect of–
“Ah, I see,” he clears his throat, squirming as the fluid leaking out of his hole becomes undeniably more arousing than before. “and this is the only thing bothering you?”
You're quick to nod, alleviating your betrothed's worries on sight. “Besides a few pre-marriage nervous jitters, yeah. I'm just worried that I won't be able to deliver, haha…” the laugh falls clumsily from your lips, concealing a hint of insecurity.
But Loki won't have any of that. The handcuffs are back around both wrists immediately — you'd never know they were never off to begin with. His hands lift over your head and rest on the back of your neck, pulling you down into a gentle yet passionate kiss.
“Mm I don't know, if you ask me, I'd say you'll be quite thorough with this matter~” he purrs against your lips, spreading his legs underneath you. You're greeted to the sight of his already used hole presented just for you, and you easily take the bait.
A few strokes and the sight of your beloved so driven after your little chat is enough to get you hard again, easily sliding right back inside those warm walls.
You're yanked closer, buried in the crook of Loki's neck once more, trapped by his arms around your neck and his legs around your waist, rutting into him. He's still pleasantly tight, squeezing you in just the right ways that have your vision faltering.
On instinct, you keep your arms wrapped around your soon-to-be husband's body, dwarfing him in your shadow as your hips continue to pound him hard enough to leave stinging red marks. His body sucks you in without a second thought, eating up every inch. You tremble, and whisper 'I love you' into your darling's ear before cumming hard, turning the slick plaps from your bodies even sloppier as your seed overflows.
Never in his life has Loki felt so stuffed. You've filled him multiple times, each load is just as thick as the last, and you kept fucking it deeper inside, leaving little opportunity for it to leak out. Even now, pulling everything except the tip out and watching your own sticky fluids gush out and dribble down Loki's inner thighs, you swiftly angle his hips so that the rest can't escape from his fertile hole.
And after your conversation, it seems a fire was lit within yourselves, dispelling whatever exhaustion would have followed. Surely Loki's parents wouldn't be too upset with their son getting knocked up before the wedding… it's only a few more rounds…
BUCKY SIZE KINK!!! I NEED HIM CRYING, FUCKED OUT AND IN MATING PRESS!!!
(please)
amab reader :o]
- @rosemint-tea 🌹🌿
Muscle Memory
$ log - staying mobile and flexible is a crucial priority for a high-performing agent like bucky barnes. though, not to fret! you've got just the perfect technique to sort out his muscle stiffness.
$ warn --nsfw --amab!reader --dom!top!reader --mean!reader --big-dick!reader --sub!bot!bucky --needy!bucky --hes-in-awe --mating-press --anal --half-a-handjob --fingersucking --condescending-praise --dirty-talk --degrading --begging --cum-as-lube --crying
$ wc -w 1.5k
$ cd masterlist / bucky-barnes
$ echo "I love writing cliche porn plots ngl; next one's going to be plumber!reader" > authors-note.txt
Being assigned as the Avengers' private personal trainer wasn't just a job; it was your specialised niche.
You were there for the anomalies specifically — the gods, the monsters, and the super soldiers whose muscle density and bone structure required a much more... aggressive approach to flexibility.
Bucky had been your primary focus for weeks. He’d been surprisingly compliant, always eager to try your routines because his body felt stiff, his muscles often feeling tight and unyielding after a mission.
He trusted your hands, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt so fucking intimidated every time you walked into the room in those tight, sweat-wicking yoga clothes. He’d catch himself staring at the obvious bulge straining against the fabric, his throat going dry.
Tonight, the routine felt different. the air was thicker, the intent behind your touch far more predatory.
The yoga mat was a pathetic little island of stability in the middle of the training room, and Bucky felt like he was drowning on it.
He was folded in half, his thick thighs shoved violently toward his chest. It was a position meant for flexibility, but with you looming over him, it just felt like a way to expose his most vulnerable parts.
You’d already spent a good while prepping him, coating his puckered entrance in slick, heavy lube. But even with the moisture, he was still struggling to accommodate the sheer, terrifying girth of you. As you leaned forward, the heavy, blunt head of your cock began to inch bit by bit into his puckered hole, forcing its way past the initial resistance.
Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes dazed and staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to process the sensation of being filled so completely. He thought he was a big, beefy man, a soldier built for war, but under the weight of your presence, he felt fucking microscopic.
"You feeling the burn of the stretch, Barnes?" you murmured, your voice low as you nudged his hips up by the tailbone, angling him to take more.
"Fuck, please," he sobbed, his voice breaking into a quiet whimper. His face was flushed with a mix of overstimulation and pure awe.
He was a mess of tears and friction — his super soldier stamina doing nothing to help him when his very anatomy was being pushed to its limit.
"C'mon, Barnes, you've still got half of me left," you teased, your voice devoid of any real sympathy as you pushed your knees further toward his chest, forcing his pelvis to tilt up even higher.
You were too focused on one thing: the feeling of yourself sliding deeper, stretching the lining of his muscles until he was sure he was going to split.
"Can't — can't take it — too big — " he choked out, a sob racking his broad shoulders. He felt so small, so fucking helpless, pinned to the mat by someone who looked so calm while he was falling apart.
To make matters worse, you reached down to wrap your hand around his cock. Bucky let out a high, broken whine, his hips jolted against your palm, his hips twitching in a desperate, uncoordinated rhythm. He was so close to the edge, his body trembling from the sensory overload of being stretched wide while his cock was being worked with such clinical, ruthless intent.
"There we go," you hummed, watching with a dark satisfaction as he began to leak.
You didn't even wait for him to find his breath. Youu simply used your thumb to catch the thick, clear beads of his precum, smearing the slickness back over his arsehole to ease the friction of your next thrust. "Need a little more lubrication for the deep tissue work, don't you?"
With a sudden, heavy lunge, you buried the rest of your cock inside him.
Arching his back, a choked yelp died in his throat as he was completely pushed through. His vision swam, the ceiling blurring into a haze of white light as his entire existence narrowed down to you filling every single inch of him.
"That's it, take it all," you commanded, your voice a low, steady anchor in his sea of sensation. you began to move — a slow, punishing grind that forced him to feel every ridge — every heavy inch of your cock as it slid against his sensitised lining.
He couldn't even find the strength to fight it; he could only sob, his fingers digging uselessly into the mat as you drove into him with a relentless, rhythmic cruelty.
"Keep those hips up, Barnes. Don't let the pelvic floor slacken now," you commanded, your voice an authoritative rasp that cut through his sobbing.
You were driving into him with a heavy pace — each thrust designed to maximise the expansion of his internal walls. "We need to ensure the deep tissue is fully accommodating the new range of motion. You can't have your muscles seizing up just because you're a little full, can you?"
Bucky let out a broken, high pitched keen, his head thrashing side to side on the mat. "it's too much — god, it's too fucking much — "
"It's exactly what you need," you countered, your tone dripping with a condescending sort of mockery. "You're a super soldier, aren't you? Stop acting like a fucking amateur. If you want to stay mobile, you have to learn how to take the tension. Let it stretch, Barnes. Let it widen."
You increased the pace, the wet, slapping sound of your pelvis hitting his ass echoing in the quiet room. Every time you bottomed out, you felt his internal muscles clenching around you in a desperate, involuntary attempt to hold onto the sensation, but you just drove harder, forcing him to expand even further.
"That's it, take the tension," you growled, your hand moving from his cock to grip his jaw, forcing him to look up at you even as he sobbed. "Feel how much space you're making for me. You're doing so well, Barnes, so good f'me, aren't ya?"
His eyes rolled back, his vision fracturing into white sparks. his cock, already leaking and sensitive, gave a sudden, desperate twitch. He couldn't hold it back; the friction of your heavy fucking was the final straw.
With a choked, desperate sob, his body buckled, and he came in a messy spurt, the thick white cream splattering across his own broad chest. He was completely undone, his breath coming in ragged, uneven hitches as he stared up at the ceiling
You let out a low, dark chuckle at the sight of him, a broken, panting mess with his own cum splattered all over his chest. He looked so fucking pathetic, a goddamn legend of war reduced to a shivering heap because you decided to stretch him out a little too hard.
"Look at you," you teased, your voice dripping with amusement as you watched him try to catch his breath. "Cumming hands free like a fucking animal. So much for that super soldier discipline, huh?"
Bucky could only mewl weak whines, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Before he could even try to recover, you reached down, scooping up a thick glob of his warm seed from his skin with your fingers. Startled, he gasped as you pressed the slick mess against his lips, forcing his mouth open.
"Messy boy," you murmured, stuffing your fingers into his mouth to silence him. "You gotta shut up now. You'll wake up the Tower. It's a muscle strengthening session here, not some dirty porno."
He let out a muffled, needy sound against your knuckles, his eyes pricking with fresh tears as he swallowed the salty mess you'd forced on him.
Even though your words were sharp and your attitude was pure condescension your hands were surprisingly sweet — they moved to stroke his hair, smoothing the damp strands away from his forehead.
The contrast was driving him insane. You were being so fucking mean, treating him like a disobedient pet. But the way you touched him— the gentle, expert way you massaged his tense muscles even as you continued to stretch him out — made his head spin.
He couldn't even find the strength to be offended. He just leaned into your touch, nodding weakly as he sucked on your fingers, his eyes never leaving yours, completely surrendered to the new routine you'd established.
He was a soldier, a killer, a man who had seen the worst of humanity, But in this moment, he was just yours — stretched, filled, and utterly broken by the very person meant to help him heal.
$ tag @twentytomidnight @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @froggibus
warnings: cock/strap/dick traditions, boob fucking, cumming on face, body, feminization, size difference, mentions of pregnancy, dumbification, lactation, feminine language used for the characters (princess, womb, maiden etc so pls tread with caution if that ain’t ur thing), read with optional bias character in mind
notes: nobu finally posting smt??????? nobu actually writing for once???????????? also this is just my obsession with boobs talking. dividers from cafekitsune. manga color tint by me
big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”
big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing
big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand
big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”
big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”
big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”
big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them
big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off
big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak
big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess
big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest
big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers
big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv
big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts
big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on
big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎
big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round
big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”
big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you
big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”
big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything
big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap
Hey Peter requester here again lol! so I'm thinking about Powerbottom Peter who's in heat x shorter lil chubby subtop male reader where it all starts with him fighting a villain and gets sprayed with something, at first he doesn't get effected and wins and well gets home but wakes up, sweating, weak, with a high fever and doesn't know why, he gets a message from male reader and instantly just got hard the second he thought about him and before he could react male reader calls him the which he answers the real heat came in, he got absolutely horny, needing to be touched immediately, but only did he know that the next second he'd be all naked, jerking off his cock and fingering himself, trying to hold back his moans and speak because his bussy was just so lose and wet to male reader, having the dirtiest and neediest thoughts while speaking to him while he was going to school, he loved hearing him yapping so much, anyway so he hears male reader enter inside the school, knowing he'd have to hang up, male reader says bye and then makes a quick pause.before finish with one fast i love you, Peter shoot the biggest load he could at that moment, thinking it over, but few days passes and the heat was only getting worse, it's like Saturday or Sunday and male reader goes to visit him to surprise him since may was going out for few days and needed Peter to be watchen over, anyway so let's say Peter got out of the bed, weak and trembling and all, with nothing but his pjs just meet y/n, to which he immediately runs back to his room to hide the toys he's been using while may was sleeping those few days, anyway so they both say goodbye to may, and just him taking care of peter which just made him more horny, he needed to be touched, so he asks if male r can go out and buy him his favourite food to which he agreed, and that was able to give him free time to start touching his bussy too, but he was so deep in it he didn't hear male reader coming back, anyway he enters and just to caught him in action, to which as previous he turns away and is like apologising, but before he could leave Peter is like “y/n please..” and starts begging him to turn around and then come closer, to which he does but doesn't look, he asks for his hand to which he gives and he starts using it to finger himself, to which he got hard and Peter finally got what he wanted, he.then pulls him into his bed, starts kissing him, blowjob to INSANE deepthroat with him not having any mercy towards male reader or himself, then ofc some riding, getting stupid on male readers cock and then having around 6 rounds, for kinks im thinking about are caught, gape, eye roll, self degrading, dirty talk, feminization, creampie, heat and that's it! (also sorry for it being messy it's around 2 am, I'm.super exhausted and sleepy, even almost went to sleep reqhesting this and had to shorten it a lot to whicb I'm sorry but anyway, you can add somethings too into it and yk!)
At this point idk what name to give these fanfics, it's just freaky Peter, y'know? And get some sleep :3 (Idk what I'm even writing anymore, going through an existencial crisis lmao)
Warning. 18+. Mature content. Powet Bottom/Top Sub character. Top Sub Peter Parker. Bottom Top Male Reader. Both character and reader have a cock. Aphrodisiac/love pollen. A little bit of everything as usual.
Power Bottom! Peter Parker x Sub Top! Male Reader
Saving people and sending criminals to jail was something every hero had to do, it was their responsibility, and Peter wasn't complaining at all as he enjoyed helping the citizens of New York. However, the annoying part came when he has to capture the same guy for the third time in the same week. How does he escape so easily from prison? Especially this pervert guy who keeps spraying people with some sort of aphrodisiac.
The criminal laughed like a maniac as they ran in the streets. "Try to catch me now, Spider-man!"
"It wouldn't be the first time, believe me!" Peter shouted back as he swung through the tall buildings of the city, approaching the criminal at a quick pace.
This guy was nothing specal, Peter quickly shoot some webs aiming at the criminal's feet, causing them to stumble and fall, and right before they could try and remove the webs, Peter covered their arms. "Told you! Don't you get tired of always being proven wrong?"
The criminal didn't say anything, they only groaned. Cops quickly joined the scene and Peter turned to face them. "I got them for you, make sure they stay behind thick bars please." Without him noticing, the criminal was able to reach for a gun in the belt of the costum. They were able to shoot a small but significant amount of the aphrodisiac the gun contained inside, right on Peter's back. "Huh?! What- Agh dude, that's disgusting!" Disgust was all over his facial expression as he tried to dry the liquid off his costume with his hand.
"Spider-Man, you should come with us to get that checked," proposed one of the officers, clearly concerned.
"No, no, no need. It didn't reach my mouth or anything, all good." With that said and pushed aside, he left the scene as fast as he could, because he had homework to do.
He returned home, and after finishing his homework, finally went to bed.
However, the next morning brought problems.
Peter was sweating profoundly, and his head hurt, his face burned, and he had difficulty breathing. "What-?" Peter groaned as he tried to sit up on the bed, but it hurt. His phone rang with a notification, he took it in his hand and the moment he saw your name at the top of said notification, he choked a gasp as his cock got instantly hard inside his underwear. "A-agh..!" Peter's panting became louder and quicker, he felt so hot, his mind becoming foggier with every second that passed. Everytime you came to his mind, another wave of pure pleasure would run through him, and he didn't know why. Before he could even start questioning what was going to him, a call came on his phone, and it was you. Peter's cock throbbed again, he bit his lip to stiffle a moan, and quickly answered the phone call. "He-hey Y/n..." His voice was wavering, so weak.
"Hey Peter, are you coming to class today?" Your voice was so sweet, gentle, and it just made things worse for Peter. His cock throbbed again, and pre-cum started to leak uncontrollably in his underwear. Peter groaned, feeling almost delirious. Filthy thoughts started to invade his mind, all of them centered on you, how good you'd look naked with him riding you till he came all over you and became stupid on your co-. "Need me to bring you your notebooks? I don't mind doing so, you know? I love helping you, Pete."
"Ahn..." Peter quickly covered his own mouth, surprised at the humiliating sound that just came out of his mouth. What was wrong with him?
Seems you also got confused. "What was that? Peter, does something hurt?"
Yes, something did hurt, but how was he supposed to say that his dick hurt as hell to you?
He swallowed hard before starting to talk, "Y-yeah, that would be nice..." The urge to feel Y/n touching him was clouding his mind at a quick, worrying pace. His body shivered as he imagined your hands running down on his warm flesh. "Tell me... tell me about the classes I missed. Please."
"Oh... sure! So, in science we've learned that..." you started explaining what happened in the last two-three hours of class Peter wasn't able to attend to. Peter wasn't paying attention to your words, but your voice instead, and in the blink of an eye he was already naked in bed.
He had his phone on speaker as he let it by the side of his pillow, one hand of his was around his painfully hard cock, jerking off slowly for fear of cumming too fast, while his other hand was on his hole, fingering himself with two fingers as he was so loose out of nowhere. The way he felt so empty inside was bothering him, it felt like torture, his hole wouldn't stop clenching around nothing. His insides were soft, wet, so warm as well, he needed something hard inside him to bring him some sort of stimulation.
"Yeah...yeah? Unff... Keep talking, uh-huh?" Peter added with a raspy voice while you kept talking. He was getting off with the sound of your voice. The temperature of his body just seemed to get higher and higher everytime he thought about you naked, the criminal of yesterday was surely behind this...but he didn't hate it, for some reason.
You just kept talking, oblivious to what was going on on the other side of the line, including the strange panting of your partner. "Yep, the first break is over so I'm going back to school, okay? I'll call you later."
What? Already? Peter groaned, his body didn't like the idea of you leaving, his hand worked faster on his cock, getting closer and closer to that orgasm he needed.
"Wh-wha...? Babe..." He wanted to protest, but knew that wouldn't be correct.
"Take care, okay Peter?" Peter could hear from the other line the chatter of the other students, you must be already inside the building, which means you'll unfortunately end the call soon. "Oh, and I love you."
I love you.
Such simple words, yet with a powerful meaning, and a much more powerful effect on Peter. He had to bite the pillow as he squeezed his cock, the first load of cum comming at a fast pace to the tip before shootong ropes all over the sheets beneath him.
"Nghhhh!" The feeling was pleasurable... temporarily pleasurable. He didn't get time to say 'I love you' back, as you had already ended the call. Peter tried to regain the control of his respiration. His cock hurt more, was cumming once not enough? "Fuck..."
Peter lost count of how many times he jerked off and came, he had already finished a box and a half of condoms, and the heat was just getting worse and worse. He feared he might be getting addicted to jerking off, but the pain was telling him otherwise. He just wanted to end with this insatiable need.
The fever became unbearable, and he didn't have choice but to skip classes for fear he might jump on you the moment your fingers touched.
The door of the appartment could be heard opening, did May went to buy some groceries? So early?
"Peter! Come honey!" He heard his aunt calling. With a groan, Peter got off from bed and put on some pijamas before leaving his bedroom, almost stumbling on the many used sexual toys that he left on the floor.
"What is it, aunt May?" He rubbed his exhausted eyes as he made his way to the living room, not expecting what, or who, was waiting there for him.
His aunt quickly came to his sight, and then came... you?
"Hey sweetheart, are you feeling better?" May asked, but Peter's eyes were focused on you, wide in surprise. What were you doing here?
"I, uh..."
You just waved a hand at him, a smile adorning your pretty innocent face. "Hey babe, hope you're feeling better." Peter could feel his cock harden under his briefs, shit.
"He's going to take care of you while I go to my exclusive single trip," May continued as she took her luggages. "Behave yourself around Y/n, okay hun'? Alright, have fun boys!" And with that said, she left the apartment with her belongings, leaving you and Peter alone. Completely alone.
Before you could say a word, Peter rushed to his bedroom to hide all the sexual toys, not wanting you to see his...previous activities.
You followed him, confused, concerned even. "Babe, are you alright? Need to puke?" No answer. "Babe? Can I come in?"
"Uhm, can you- can you go buy me some noodles from the store... at the corner of the street, please?" you heard him ask weakly. Damn, he was really sick, it hurt your heart.
"Sure babe, do you want medium spicy?"
"Y-yeah, that would help, thanks love, you're the best." Oh Peter... You immediately accepted his request and left the apartment to go buy your boyfriend some noodles.
Once Peter was left alone, he tried to put his shit together, go back to his senses, but everything of him was screaming, wanting your touch, your body and attention. He couldn't breathe, his body was burning, his pussy felt weak. Peter was like an animal in heat, needing to breed desperately. He couldn't fight it anymore, he laid down in bed and brought two fingers in his pussy, the latter quickly reacting and clenching tightly around the intruding fingers. "Ah-...! Hmm..."
He closed his eyes tightly, his fingers slowly moving inside his, stretching open. It felt so good, he couldn't help but imagine it was you who was fingering him instead. Yes, that was more lovely. "Y/n..."
Peter didn't realize how fast time went by, too lost in the pleasure. So lost, that he didn't hear the door of the apartment opening, nor the steps coming closer to his bedroom, and neither the door of his bedroom opening with you coming with a cute smile, holding a bag of noodles in your hand. "Peter I brought your noo-eh?!"
The taller man's eyes widened in surprise as he sensed you, then blushed profoundly. "Y/n!!"
The bag of noodles in your hand fell on the floor as you covered your eyes with your hands, taking some steps back as you tried not to stutter in your words. "I-I'm so sorry, I should have knocked on the door... I'll... I'll leave..." You were about to reach the doorknob of the bedroom, but your body went frozen when a weak whimper was heard behind you.
"Please... Y/n..." You could hear your heartbeats get louder and quicker. Why couldn't you move all of the sudden? The atmosphere got hotter in the room, and a strong smell could be now noticed in the air. "Y/n, please...turn around, and come."
As if a spell was put on you, you slowly turned around on your heels, and your eyes landed on feverish eyes full of desire, lust.
Peter was still fingering himself while holding eye contact with you, his mouth slightly open as he breathed heavily.
"I need you, I need your touch... Please Y/n, it hurts so much." Your legs started moving on their own, one step after the other as you got closer to the bed. He grabbed your hand once you were close enough to him, and slowly brought it towards his waiting entrance, already slightly stretched and in need for something to fill it up.
Your breathing hitched once your fingers made contact with Peter's entrance. The latter started to use your fingers to stretch him wider, soft groans escaped his lips, and you couldn't move your eyes away from the scene between his legs. It was wet inside, sticky, soft, warm, so fucking warm. Your fingers started to scissor him by pure instinct, to which you blushed even more.
Peter chuckled lowly as he noticed your covered growing erection. He wrapped his elgs around you and pulled you against the mattress, with him getting on top of you.
He lowered down and caught your lips with his, forming a deep, passionate, hungry kiss. His tongue pushed deeper inside your mouth, exploring and dancing with your tongue. Peter took your hand and pulled your fingers out of his hole.
"You have no idea how much I need you right now," he whispered close to your lips, his voice trembling slightly.
"Peter, I-" He didn't hear it, didn't want to hear it probably. The taller man started to kiss your cheeks, then your jaw, neck, collarbone, chest, abdomen and finally, he stopped right in front of your clothed erection.
"Finally, what I need is here..."
In the blink of an eye, you didn't have your pants or underwear anymore. Peter held the base of your cock with one hand while he worked his tongue from the very base to your tip. You shuddered with each lap, you couldn't deny how good it felt receiving this kind of attention from Peter.
"Hmm..." he hummed as he worshipped your cock with his mouth. "Do you feel good, babe? Am I being a good cocksucker for you?" He asked, his mind clearly gone.
"Babe...hmf!" You couldn't form coherent sentences inside your brain, it wouldn't just work.
Hot lips wrapped around the head of your cock, your back arched as you gasped, why were you so sensitive? Peter seemed to enjoy your reaction, deciding to stay for some minutes there, with his tongue teasing your leaking tip. Your hands wouldn't stop shaking, as if they just wanted to go and grab Peter's head to force him to take all of your cock in one go inisde his pretty mouth.
Peter slowly started moving on your cock, slowly taking more and more of your length.
"Fuck... fuck, that feels good," you whispered, your eyes closing to savour more this feeling.
The taller man loved your taste, but he was growing more insatiable, he needed more, and fast. Without a warning, he shoved all of your inside his mouth, earning a cry from you from the sudden change on the pace. Peter tried to control his gag reflexes, your cock was buried deep inside his mouth, tip hitting the back of his throat. He couldn't believe how good it felt to have your cock inside him, he might even be addicted now, thinking about leaving all dignity behind just to become your little personal cocksucker, yoru cumdump, your bitch.
He pulled back, and you almost sobbed with the cold hitting your wet cock, but then he quickly brought your cock back inside his throat, nose buried in your pubs as his tongue twirled around the hard flesh.
You wouldn't stop cursing, what was this?
Peter's throat was aching, just like his jaw, it was starting to hurt keeping his mouth wide open like this just so he could keep tasting your salty pre-cum. His eyes rolled back in his head as a small amount of pre-cum shot out right on your tongue, the taste just made his addiction stronger. He needed to drink all of you.
Ignoring your sobs and demands of him to take a break, he went harder on you, to be more precise, on your cock. He would force himself to worship every centimer of your cock with his tongue.
"Peter! Fuck-! Please Peter, more gent-leee!" Your body was squirming on the bed, as if trying to get far from this dangerous attention. But Peter did not move, he sucked harder, slurping sounds getting wetter and louder.
"Hmmm... sluuurrp... hmmf...nhh..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hands moving to the back of his head by pure instinct.
You could feel yourself approaching orgasm at a worrying speed, your jaw tightened, you weren't strong enough to push Peter away. "Peter... fuck-! I'm... I'm close!" The announcement only fueled Peter's hunger, as he worked harder, his sucking turning impossibly faster while his free hand played with your balls. Your stomach tightened, white spots came to your sights before your mind turned into a white canvas. "Gh-aah!!" Your body tensed completely as your first orgasm hit you hard, cum spurting out of your cock right inside Peter's mouth.
Peter drank it all, not caring about the taste or the texture. You were panting loudly, but Peter took his time to get off of your cock. His lips were slightly swollen, his jaw hurt a bit, but it did not bother him. It did not bother him enough, as he quickly mounted you with a feverish grin on his lips.
"Did you like that? Did I do a good job as a cumdump? May I have more?" It was obvious Peter wasn't the one talking, but you didn't know what was making him say these words. Despite these uncommon actions, so uncharacteristics of the Peter you knew, a part of you liked this experience. The proof was your still hard cock.
"Ghh-uh... Peter, a-are you sure about this?"
He took your hands and placed them on his hips. "Absolutely." Without wasting another second, he lined the head of your cock with his eager, stretched hole. "Now fuck my pussy."
An unknown tightness wrapped around your cock, and you could have sworn you almost came for a second time again. Peter's ass felt so good, there was no denying it. The taller man seemed satisfied with your size inside his ass, his eyes were crossed while a stupid cockdrunk smile grew on his lips. His hands went on your chest to support himself as he started bouncing on your hips.
"Yes, yes, hmmm fuck yesss..." The slapping of wet skins resonated louder with the amount of juices that coated between you two, creating a lustful symphony for your ears.
"Ah..ah, Peter..nghh," you were blabbering now, saying his name without a real purpose. Why were you calling him anyway? What were you about to tell him? Every idea just disappeared everytime your cock hit his prostate, making Peter moan so good.
"Do you like that? Nghh... feel how wet and tight my pussy is for you? Wanna fuck it harder? Come on, use me, use your bitch," he tried to tempt you, to destroy the little self control that remained in you. He kissed you again, trying to push your limits with his hot tongue. "Say it, say how good of a bitch I am."
You were speechless, brain completely melted away. "Gah...aahh..."
How could you even talk when Peter was clenching around you so good?
You noticed how his pace started to quicken up. Peter's tongue lolled out as he stared at the ceiling. "Haaa...haaa... your cock, your cock is hitting me so good... I need more." He gripped your shoulders tightly and stared down at you, the look in his eyes made you sweat coldly, there was only hunger in them.
"B-babe....? Nghh!" Peter's movements kept increasing in speed, he was really going for it.
"Harder! Please fuck me harder!"
"Don't you dare stopping! Ahn!"
You two have changed positions, now you were on top of him, pounding his wet, sloppy, filled cunt. Your thighs were trembling, your balls almost hurt just like your cock, you lost count on how many times you came already, but you felt so overstimulated.
It's been a while since you collapsed on top of your boyfriend, your face was hiding on the crook of his neck while he held you around your waist.
When was he going to be fully satisfied?
"Peter...pl-please... A-ghhh." Another orgasm came, you couldn't help but whine.
Peter came as well, before his body went limp on the bed. Cum kept leaking down Peter's thighs, result of the many loads that were given to him. You pulled out weakly, with little to no strength left in your body, then moved by Peter's side.
Few minutes of silence passed by as you two regained some oxygen in your longs. What hour is it now? Your eyes stared weakly at Peter, he was red, sweating profoundly, with tired yet content eyes. "Peter...are you...?" Okay? That's what you wanted to ask.
"Nghh..." he groaned as he moved a hand down to feel his wrecked cunt. Yep, you completely ruined him. His hole was left wide open, leaking nonstop, full of cum. "Fuck..." His eyelids felt heavy, so he nuzzled close to you. "Y/n, hmm...love you..." These were his last words before falling asleep on your shoulder.
You also felt like you were about to fall asleep. Your eyes met the long forgotten bag full of noodles that were now obviously cold, oh well, you'll warm them when Peter wakes up. You were still wondering what possessed Peter, but that would be an issue for later.
For now, you just needed to take a long, very long nap.
________________________________
Guess who's sick again? I can't stop coughing, shit.
Y'all don't know how GOOD it feels to finish with long requests like these. Like, FINALLY.
With long requests like this one I'll probably need to organize them a bit more differently than the others. I'll see how for now.
Fucking Peter parker and using magic to bind his hands together and make him even more sensitive
i love this. and don’t forget to vote on my poll! tw daddy kink !
peter is already sensitive enough without you having to do anything to enhance it, when you use your magic to tease his nipples or press against his erogenous zones, he’s absolutely done for.
having him bound with his arms bended at the elbow and folded against his chest as you fuck him in missionary. big, salty tears are staining his cheeks, his hair is messy on his head and his thighs are quivering where they’re wrapped around your waist.
the way you’re ducking him is harsh and unforgiving, and the sounds that we’re being forced past his lips reflected your actions. “c’mon, talk to me parker… or has every thought in your pretty little mind melted away?” you ask him, leaning down to kiss at his tear stained cheeks.
“‘s soooo much!” he drags out and whines, breathing heavily as his cock pathetically drips with more precum on his stomach. you hum, leaning forward to drape your body over his and frame him with your hands on either sides of his head. you dip down to meld his lips with yours, swallowing his moans as you slow your pace and settle for slow and equally as harsh thrusts.
“you can take it baby, fuck, i know you can,” you murmur as you pull away from his lips. he’s fighting the urge to close his eyes as he stares at you. his dark brown eyes are dilated and hazily clouded with need, you stare back at him as a smirk tugs at your lips.
“you just wanna be good for me, huh love?” you murmur, kissing down his jaw. “yes, yes! w’nna be the best for you,” you whimpers, and you could feel his cock twitch between your stomachs. you grin, slithering a hand between your bodies, to tug at his cock.
he lurches at that, back arching into your chest and hands grasping at nothing where they’re bound to him. “c’mon peter, i w’nna make you feel so good.” you’re grunting and moaning in his ear about how fucking tight he is, and it does nothing to stave off his impending orgasm.
“daddy…” his voice cracks and breaks on the word as he gasps and squeals, spurting his cum into your hand. his eyes roll back and the sight alone as you gripping the sheets as your stomach tightens and you cum into peter. he whines, cock twitching weekly at the feeling of being so utterly used and filled.
thinking about trans!anime men who like a little pain with their pleasure. like yeah please leave hickeys and bruises that they will admire for as long as they last. or pinch and bite their nipples and they're back is arching and whining because it hurts so good. i'm talking about men who want their ass to be red, bordering on purple from all the spanks you've given him, make it hard for him to sit the next couple of days. or slapping their inner thighs, you can see the twitch their clit makes as they leak even more. talking about fingering him, curling your fingers to hit their g-spot in every stroke and landing a couple of plaps to their t-cock. watch as their thighs shake and eyes roll back as the sharpness sends them over the edge. men who become addicted to pussy slaps after that.
please write more amab reader PLsssSSSSS WE'RE IN THE DEPTHS OF HELL WITHOUT ANY NEW CONTENT
Only if you want too though im just a guy who loves dicking down tony stark
Roll Up The Partition, Please
$ log - tony stark can't even sit through the drive to a gala without getting needy and handsy with you. you just had to teach him a thing or two about good impressions. you sort things out straight in the backseat of his sleek ride — just enough to leave him wrecked and dazed.
$ warn --nsfw --amab!reader --dom!top!reader --brat-tamer!reader --sub!bot!tony --brat!tony --sensory-depriv(gag) --bondage --mating-press --teasing --orgasm-denial --dirty-talk --condescending --suit-ties-used --voyeurism-ish --backseat-sex --making-out --mocking --begging --needy --dry-humping --established-relationship
$ wc -w 2.7k
$ cd masterlist / tony-stark
$ echo "wrote a whole fic instead. hope you enjoy 😛; idrk how you two managed to fuck in the backseat, but you packaged him up neatly, so there's that" > authors-note.txt
"Hold still, honey. If you keep squirming, this tie is going to look as crooked as your ego."
Tony scoffs, looking at himself in the mirror with that insufferable smirk. "My ego is perfectly symmetrical, babe. Besides, the cameras love the chaos. It’s called branding."
You grab the silk tie, looping it around his collar. But, instead of a gentle knot, you yank it tight, forcing his chin up. His breath hitches, eyes flashing with that familiar, exhilarating spark.
"The cameras can kiss your arse," you murmur, leaning in until your lips graze his ear. "Try to act right tonight. No grandstanding, no making a scene. Just stay by my side and keep your mouth shut."
"And miss the chance to be the center of attention? You're cruel, you know that?" Tony retorts, though his voice is a little thinner than usual. He reaches up, his fingers brushing yours as he tries to regain his composure, but you just tighten the knot one last time.
"I'm not being cruel, Tony. I'm being practical. If you can't behave, I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."
He scoffs, a lopsided, arrogant grin spreading across his face. "Is that a threat or a promise? Because you know damn well how much I love a challenge."
You give the tie one final, sharp tug, watching the way his eyes flutter for a split second before he masks it with that trademark Stark bravado. "It's a warning, Tony."
"Please," he rolls his eyes, though he doesn't pull away from your touch.
He catches your gaze in the mirror, his smirk softening just enough to let the heat show. "You love the challenge just as much as I do. Now hurry up; we took forty-five minutes to get dressed up, won't even make it there."
The heavy door of the Maybach clicks shut, sealing the two of you into a world of leather, expensive cologne, and suffocating heat. The city lights smear past the tinted windows, but you aren't looking at the view.
Tony’s hand is already moving, restless and demanding. He’s bored of the small talk from the penthouse and he’s hungry for something real. His palm slides up your chest, his fingers grazing the fabric of your shirt before dipping lower, tracing the line of your thigh with a possessive intent.
"God, if I have to hear one more person talk about themselves before we even get there," he mutters, his voice dropping an octave as his hand finds the hem of your trousers.
He isn't being subtle; he’s being a brat, his fingers digging into your thigh with a desperate, needy friction.
"Tony, behave," you warn, though there's no real bite in it. You reach out, your hand clamping firmly over his to remind him exactly who is in control here. "We aren't even at the venue yet."
He lets out a low, frustrated huff, leaning into your space until his forehead rests against yours. "Who cares? The gala is a bore. This — " He slides his hand higher, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. " — This is the only part of the night worth a damn."
You grin, the heat in your gut turning into something much more predatory. You lean in, your lips brushing his ear, your voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "You're acting like a brat, Tony. Do you want me to make you behave before we even step out of this car?"
"Maybe," he challenges, his eyes dark and hooded as he pulls your hand closer to his own heat. "Maybe that's exactly what you should do."
He doesn't wait for an answer, his hand moving with a sudden, frantic urgency, sliding past the waistband of your trousers to find the hard, heavy cock of yours. He groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated want, as he begins to palm you with a rhythmic, demanding pressure that makes your vision swim.
"Careful," you growl, your fingers digging into his hip to steady him. "The driver is right there."
"Let him listen," Tony huffs, his ego flaring even through the haze of lust. He leans in, nipping at your lower lip before pulling back just enough to smirk. "He's seen me in worse states than this. Besides, he knows you're the only one who can actually handle me."
You let out a low, dark chuckle, the sound vibrating against his chest. Your hand moves from his thigh to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair to tilt his head back, exposing the line of his throat.
"Is that so?" you murmur, your thumb tracing the edge of his jaw. "Then let's see if you can handle being quiet for once."
You reach for the partition lever, your eyes locked on his.
With a sharp click, the glass partition glides up, sealing the backseat into a private, dimly lit sanctuary. The muffled sound of the engine and the distant hum of the city are all that remain, leaving nothing but the heavy, electric heat between the two of you.
Tony’s eyes widen slightly at the sound — a triumphant, wicked glint dancing in them. He knows exactly what that sound means.
He leans back into the leather, spreading his legs just enough to give you better access, his breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches.
"There," he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation, "now we can actually have some fun."
You shift, straddling his lap, the weight of your body forcing a low, shaky exhale from his lungs. The friction of your trousers against his is maddening; the rough, high end wool of your suits creates a heat that feels like it’s burning through the layers.
"You're so impatient," you murmur, your voice a low vibration as you lean down. You don't kiss him yet.
Instead, you just hover your lips just a fraction of an inch from his, letting him feel the heat of your breath. You watch his eyes flutter shut, his head lulling back against the leather headrest as he chases the contact you're teasingly withholding.
His hands are everywhere now, frantic and clumsy in his desperation. One hand is buried in your hair, pulling you closer, while the other claws at your waist, his fingers bunching the expensive fabric of your shirt.
The sensation of his palms sliding against your sides, the friction of your clothes grinding together with every shallow movement of your hips, is a slow torture.
"Don't — don't do that," Tony groans, a broken, needy sound that he’d never let anyone else hear.
He tries to pull you down, to force the kiss, but you lean back just enough to keep him on the edge. "Just fucking kiss me already."
"Is that an order, sweetheart?" you tease, your hips performing a slow, agonisingly shallow grind against him. The sensation of your cock pressing through the layers of silk and wool is enough to make him gasp, his back arching off the leather seat.
"It's a suggestion. A very, very urgent suggestion," he pants, his eyes lidded and dark with a hunger that has nothing to do with the gala.
He reaches down, his hands fumbling with the belt of your trousers, his movements uncharacteristically uncoordinated as he tries to bridge the gap between your skin and his.
You catch his wrists, pinning them against the seat for a moment to regain control. The friction of your thighs rubbing together, the heavy, rhythmic pressure of your weight as you settle deeper into his lap, is driving the tension to a breaking point.
Every movement is deliberate, every slide of your hips a calculated move to keep him right on the precipice.
The logistics of it all were very lost in the suffocating sensations emitting off you two. But you found the right angle, while he rummaged haphazardly through the seat pockets for the spare lube he always keeps for times like this.
Both yours and his ties were unfortunately sacrificed for this quick little mess in the backseat. Yours was used to tie his wrists tight above his head, making him grasp flimsily at the leather. Tony's effectively just silenced him — a bundle of smooth fabric shoved past those pretty lips.
A heavy, deep thrust forces a muffled, high pitched whine out of his throat. You’ve got his knees shoved so far up against his chest that he’s completely folded, his hips tilted up to take every inch of you. Every time you bottom out, his head thrashes against the leather, his eyes rolling back as the sheer depth of you makes him forget how to breathe.
Tony tries to pull the tie out of his mouth, a desperate attempt to snark at you, to tell you you're being too rough, but you just shove him back down, your hands clamping onto his thighs to hold him steady.
"Shut up, Tony," you growl, your voice a low rumble as you drive into him again. "You're supposed to be a genius, but you can't even handle a little bit of attention without losing your mind."
He tries to let out a defiant scoff, but it comes out as a pathetic, wet sound — you're hitting him so deep he can't even form a thought. You reach down, your hand sliding between your bodies to wrap around his cock, your thumb grinding hard against his tip with every thrust.
He lets out a muffled, desperate whimper, his eyes blowing wide and glassy as he looks up at you, completely undone.
"Look at you," you smirk, watching the way his chest heaves, his ego completely stripped away by the sheer force of you. "Where's all that Stark attitude now? You're just a mess for me, aren't you?"
You don't give him the release he's begging for. You lean in, your teeth grazing his earlobe as you pick up the pace, your thrusts becoming faster and more punishing.
You can feel him trembling under you, his entire body vibrating with the effort of trying to stay composed while you're systematically destroying him.
"Should I cum in ya, Tony?" you murmur, your voice dripping with a cruel sort of playfulness as you drive into him one last time, bottoming out so hard he lets out a muffled, broken cry against the gag. "Make a little stain for the cameras to find when we walk in? Give them something real to gossip about?"
He’s completely gone. The billionaire, the genius, the man who always has a comeback is just a dazed, panting mess, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he stares up at you. He tries to form words around the silk in his mouth, letting out soft, desperate murmurs
"Please — mmph — please," he whimpers, the words barely intelligible through the fabric, but the desperation in his eyes says it all. Tony’s trying to beg, trying to tell you how much he needs it, his hips bucking instinctively against you in a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm.
But you don't give him the satisfaction.
You pull out of him with a sudden, agonising slowness, leaving him twitching and breathless in the sudden coldness of the air. He's left hanging on the edge — his body trembling with the unspent tension, his eyes searching yours for a mercy you have no intention of giving.
You take a moment to just watch him, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips as he lies there, a wrecked, dazed mess in the backseat. He looks like he’s forgotten there’s even an event waiting for him, his mind completely wiped clean by you.
Taking a bit of mild pity for your lover, you decide to leave him something to remember the ride by. You reach down, delivering a few stinging backhands to his arse — the sound of sharp skin shitting echoing in the small space.
“Just leaving some handprints and good grips all on ya, honey,” you murmured sweetly, smiling at his low whines at each hit — you made sure to use a firm grip too.
“Please, babe — ” Tony tried to beg, but half his syllables were muffled, “ — need’ta cum, please, don’t — ”
"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart," you coo, a low, dark chuckle vibrating in your chest as you watch his eyes plead for mercy.
You’re straining against your own aching heat, your pulse thrumming with the need to orgasm too. But you keep your composure. "I've got an image to maintain, too. We can't exactly walk into a gala looking like we just finished a marathon."
You lean down, your lips brushing his as you reach up to pull the tie from his mouth. The moment the silk clears his lips, he lets out a broken, needy groan, his voice a wrecked, desperate rasp.
"Please, just — fuck — you're killing me," he gasps, his voice a wrecked, desperate rasp as he tries to pull you down, his head thrashing against the leather. He’s practically vibrating, his hips jerking in a futile attempt to find the friction you just snatched away.
Instead of giving Tony the orgasm he’s screaming for, you lean in and capture his mouth in a deep kiss. You drink in his pleas, swallowing his desperate murmurs of "Please, baby, please" as you make out with him with a frantic, hungry intensity.
Even with his wrists still tied tight above his head, he clings to you, his body arching toward yours as if he could force the connection back through sheer willpower.
You pull back just enough to smirk at him, watching the way his eyes are blown wide and glazed with pure lust. You're still aching, still straining against your own suit pants.
But, hey, you could just drag him by the spare tie after his speech, use his chatty mouth for a while.
The car comes to a smooth, silent halt, the engine's hum dying down to leave only the sound of your heavy, synchronised breathing. The adrenaline is still humming through your veins — an electric heat that makes your skin feel too tight — but the reality of the venue is pressing in.
"Over there," you murmur, nodding toward the grand entrance of the gala as the tinted windows reveal a swarm of flashing lights. "I swear I just saw the cameras flash. They're waiting for the golden couple."
Tony lets out a sound that’s halfway between a groan and a laugh, his head falling back against the leather. He’s a total wreck — hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes still dazed and unfocused from the sheer intensity of you.
He looks like he’s been through some marathon alright — his chest still heaving as he tries to pull his dignity back together from the floor of the Maybach.
You reach out, giving him a wry smile as you pat his jaw, treating him like a particularly well behaved, albeit exhausted, mutt. "There we go. Try to look like a billionaire and not a man who just got thoroughly dismantled in a moving vehicle."
Tony lets out a huff, a ghost of his usual snark returning to his eyes even as he winces from the lingering ache in his hips. "You're a menace," he mutters, though the way he leans into your touch tells a completely different story. "A beautiful, sadistic menace."
"Maybe," you shrug, your fingers lingering on his skin for a second too long as you begin to untie his wrists, though you don't bother fixing his hair or fixing his tie.
You leave him a little dishevelled, a little breathless, and entirely yours.
"Well," you say, smoothing down your own suit and checking your reflection in the darkened window with a predatory glint in your eyes, "looks like we're going in tie-less. At least our suits are matching."
Tony lets out a low, shaky breath, trying to straighten his shoulders even as his legs still feel like jelly.
He catches your gaze, a wicked, knowing smirk finally tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the exhaustion. "Fine by me. Let them wonder why the great Tony Stark looks like he just won the lottery and lost his mind at the same time."
You laugh, a rich, dark sound, and reach for the door handle. The world is waiting, but as you step out into the blinding flash of the paparazzi, you know the real show is still happening right beneath the surface.
fic inpso:
$ tag @twentytomidnight @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @froggibus
