But like imagine neighbor! Price, he knows your husband and isn’t that big of a fan of him at all. Leaving you alone for days on end for “business trips”. Price knew that’s not what he was doing. Your husband was a damn junkie. Running up all you guys money on coke and bottles at clubs.
He had seen him while off duty at a club with Gaz and Nikolai. Blowing your money, the money he had spent without your knowledge, on strippers and the several bottles he had bought in the club.
Price being be good neighbor he was had told you. He felt bad when he saw how your heart practically shattered. You were tearing up and ended up crying into his chest. He brought you back into your house where he stayed with you the entire time. Your tears for your husband was soon replaced with tears for John as he had you splayed out on his lap.
“I know baby, I know. Feels good yeah?”
You could barely get your words out as he rubbed your clit for what seemed like forever while he had you propped up on his lap. Tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you.
“So good for me doll, let’s make sure you feel real nice now, yeah?..”💭🎀
So,this is for @male-thoughts. A bit of porn to make everyone's day better lol.
Sleepy mornings
Clark Kent x male! Reader
Tw: smut,jerking off,mean reader,kinda sub Clark
Now,being Superman's boyfriend is incredible. That’s like,obvious. You love him to the moon and back and he literally would give you the moon if you as much as asked. He was kind,respectful,funny,and an idiot in the most endearing way possible. He cared for people and genuinely tried to do good things. You loved him for that.
But God was he always horny.
It had been an horrendous week. The type of week that makes you want to throw everyone else out the window. Especially when that everyone else is your boyfriend waking you up by humping you in his sleep at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning. He was hard as a rock,because of course he was,and now you couldn’t fall back asleep because of all the moving.
Now,you could just wake him up and tell him what he’s doing. It would definitely put a stop to it,he would never do anything without your explicit and enthusiatic consent. He might be a bit embarassed,but nothing more than that.
That doesn’t sound very fun,does it? And you’re already awake anyway,why not just helping him?
You huff under your breath and close your eyes back,blindly reaching for his cock. This of course wakes him up,or maybe it was the way your heartbeat probably sped up a bit. You knew he always listened to your heartbeat,a habit more than a choice. He had told you so a few months ago. You don’t wait for him to fully wake up before grabbing his cock in one of your hand,earning a surprised,but not displeased,whine from him. “Darling?” He murmurs grogilly,but you don’t even bother opening your eyes,just giving his dick a clumsy stroke. He moans again,flustered,and unconciously fucks up into your hand. “You woke me up rubbing your damn hard-on on my thigh.” You answer his unasked question,doing your best to glare at him with your eyes still closed. He attempts to apologize but you squeeze him as hard as you can and instead he relases a half moan,half scream kind of sound.
“Shhh. I’m trying to rest here. You’re Superman,you can take some rough play.” You whisper harsly,annoyed. He nods,an apologetic look in his eyes,and moves his hand to cover his mouth to stop a sound as your hand moves again. “And no hands.” You add,shifting to lay down more comfortably. He nods,biting his lips to keep silent. This goes on for a few slow,agonizing minutes,you only occasionally squeezing or stroking his cock,and him trying not to whine or beg you to go faster.
You start to get tired of the game pretty soon and begin to go quicker,your thumb brushing against his tip to gather the precum there and smear it over his length,making the movements easier. Running a finger on the vein running on the underside of his dick,your nails barely scratching it,your eyes still closed all troughout. You fell it pulsating in your hand and the sheets move slightly as he grips them for dear life. You wait until he’s right on the edge,every muscle in his body tensing,his hips bucking up into your hand. You stop for a moment,just to tease him,and he actually cries out. You tsk at him,one eye opening slightly to better glare,and as his mouth open to apologize,or maybe beg,your finger sneaks its way to the tip,playing with it before pressing a fingernail down right over the slit until you know it start to hurt. He was always way more sensitive on his dick,especially when hard. You think it might be related to alien biology or something. Never really cared to ask.
He whines loudly and his hips squirm,unsure whetever to move away from the pain or closer to feel more pleasure. A few more strokes and he’s gone,bucking up in your hand as thick white ropes of cum stain his stomach,the sheets and your wrist. You stroke him trought it and a bit after,just to overstimulate him a bit. You wipe your hand down on his thigh and turn around,finally going back to sleep. At least this time Clark seems way too out of it to wake you up.
I love the idea of dating Jason Todd as a somewhat sugar daddy sort of situation. He pays your rent, won't let you pay for anything when you are together. And he never says no to anything you could ask for if you ask him right after sex. There isn't enough ftm!reader sugar daddy fics/drabbles.
I think Jason would but I also think he’d be so lowkey about it
examples! ˙⋆✮
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
You go out to a coffee shop and you sway back and forth as you try to decide if you want your regular or something—Jason just holds your hand as he waits for you to finally blurt out what you want and before you can even think about the total that the barista announces, his card is pressed against the reader and the transaction had gone through.
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
You’re looking over your finances for the month—they aren’t necessarily bad they were just a little tight. You’d probably have to put off your car maintenance for a while because rent and bills had to take priority. Jason bites into an apple as he peeks over your shoulder, looking at your current balance and your expected expenses—he swallows before telling you not to worry about it—he’ll cover your rent and bills, you should go get your car checked out. You try to argue, telling him you could at least split it, it wouldn’t be fair on him to shoulder everything. He argues that it wouldn’t be fair on you considering your salary differences (if you could consider his collections from a drug ring a salary)
You decide to split on percentage the next month. He still insists on paying the full rent (you tuck the $10 you theoretically owe him into his wallet every month).
(Also he looks at your car himself; how silly of you to think you would need to go to anybody else to fix a motor oil when your boyfriend could do it for you.)
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You stumble into your apartment, exhausted after being awake for 20 hours straight and working some ungoldly shifts—you almost don’t notice the extra pair of shoes sat by your door—the only reason you do is because they are shiny and new and too small to be Jason’s. Your first thought should have been that Jason had invited somebody into the apartment while you were out but that was actually so far from your mind. In what world would Jason bring somebody back to your shared home?? His safe space?
Oh yeah, I bought you a new pair of shoes, he answers casually as you collapse on him. Something about noticing that your current shoes are falling apart so he just bought you the same pair, only with less holes. You mumble something that sounds like a ‘thanks’ and he’s mentioning something about going shopping for more if you didn’t like them anymore but you’re already out like a light
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
➜ ftm specific ♡
It often comes up during late night musings what your plans are for yourself in the future, especially when it came to transitioning. You’d done some of it, but there’s still so much more you want to do—you muse about top surgery like it’s a distant dream and with the current state of your salary and the lack of trans healthcare around, it might as well be. Hope is what keeps you going, but you absently rub at your sternum as you quietly admit to Jason how much of a relief it would be for you when you finally get it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the circles under your eyes as he asks furthering questions, where you want it done, if you have a surgeon in mind yet, what kind of surgery would you want, where would you want to stay to recover.
You answer every questions, it makes it feel more real as you do.
He asks when you want it done and honestly? As soon as you have the funds.
He asks if he can cover it and your heart leaps.
You want to argue, say it’s an insane amount of money and he’d have to cover a lot more than just the surgery because you’d have to skip out on work and you’d have to travel and all that other stuff he might not be thinking about but he’s staring with such earnest eyes that everything dies in your throat. And you nod wordlessly because both of you would love nothing more than for you to feel comfortable in your own body. ♡
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uh,, tada! I didn’t expect to write so much lmao, clearly I missed this
hope you enjoyed ˙⋆✮ the last one almost made me tear up icl
the bell for lunch had just gone off and the halls were quickly filled with students dragging themselves to where they needed to be. some freshman's running between older groups of kids blocking half of the hallways up- you were standing just off to the side of your locker. books from your last class shoved into your locker as quickly as you left the classroom. looking around, you wait for your eyes to pick out a certain heffley to meet you by your locker.
it was a routine the two of you had started, ever since you two met your freshman year. you would wait by your locker, and he would meet you there, whether it be for lunch or to go home- unless he got himself detention. which wasn't rare. ironically though, your schedules hadn't changed much so the routine never really had to change either.
unlike that one time in the first half of junior year.
you pull the front of your jacket to loosen it from the front of your body and begin tapping your foot on the floor. you make note of how the halls have somewhat cleared out, except for a few couples making out in various corners and groups of jocks chatting it up about the upcoming games.
"boo!"
you flinch but you don't jump all the way. rolling your eyes, you turn your body around and see rodrick smirking at you as he leaned on the nearby lockers. "and before you try to deny it- i got you good, you totally jumped."
"yeah, yeah, whatever. what took you so long anyways?" you say as you playfully roll your eyes.
rodrick stands up fully now, his height not fully towering over you, but he still has a few inches on you. "well, it gets cold in school and i somehow couldn't find my jacket that i had brought this morning... but then i remembered-"
your heats begin to have a slight burning sensation as you look down at his jacket that he had let you wear that morning because you were cold.
"i meant to give it back i swear-"
he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours. "oh c'mon you know i don't care. just messin' with you." he begins to walk towards the cafeteria. "besides, you seem more comfortable in my clothes anyways."
closing your eyes in slight embarrassment, you lightly scoff as you begin following behind him. you don't miss the way you can still smell the scent of him on... your jacket.
or the way a smile creeps up onto your face as you look at him.
-
later that week, you went home with him after school. his parents were both out at work that night and his little brother was over his friend's house so you two had it all to yourselves. the warm yellow lights filling the home as you two sit in the living room.
an open box of pizza and garlic knots sitting on top of two more pizza boxes. a random movie playing in the background as you two eat and talk about anything. "your music sounds great by the way." you blurt out.
he perks up at your compliment, and you can see the sparkle in those deep brown eyes. "you..."
"uh duh? why wouldn't i listen to the tape?" you laugh at his facial expression. you had been listening to him play for years now but he had given you a tape not too long ago. you still remember the way he shyly handed it to you with a 'don't mention it- it's a new song anyways'.
"got any more you wanna give me?" a beat passed, the sound of the tv filling the living room. then he practically flew up off of the couch and ran up the stairs towards his room. you quickly followed, setting your plate down on the coffee table and following him.
you find him in his room, shuffling around in his closet as he looks through one of his baskets. rodrick brings one of them out and sets it on his bed as you make your way to him.
after a bit you begin shuffling through the box as well, recognizing some of the tapes as his older songs he made in the garage. others not so much.
however, your eyes catch onto a tape off in the corner of the box under a couple of others. knocking the others to the side you bring grab the tape and begin to read the title. it read... your name?
with a hear-
"that'sss not for you." rodrick states as he snatches it out of your hand. "any of the others but not this one."
but you weren't one to back down from anything. especially when you can practically read the nervousness all over his face. "and why not?" you ask.
you don't let him answer before you two end up fighting over the tape. he holds his hand way above his head as you push up against him on your tiptoes trying to reach it. "let me see it!"
"no!" he slightly pushes you back and tries to make a dash out of his room but you had better ideas. mustering up all of your strength, you grab his arm and pull him close to you. then you push him backwards until he falls onto his bed and climb on top of him- grabbing the tape. "it has my name with a heart next to it- you're gonna explain this one."
the room went silent, save for both of you panting and your heartbeat banging in your ears.
it was only then that you realized his hands had taken place right on your hips and you were sitting flush against him. hips to hips. you both stared into each other's eyes for a moment before he looked away. almost like he was... ashamed?
"it's not what it looks like." he shyly whispers but his eyes don't waver from yours and you can feel his hands tighten around your hips. you lean down lower to his face, tape long forgotten somewhere on the bed. you bring your hands to either side of his face as your face is mere inches from his.
"then tell me what it does look like. cause... i don't know rodrick it seems like you have a lil' crush on me," you whisper, heart racing even faster than before.
his eyes flicker down your face to your lips but quickly go back to your eyes. you lean in and one of his hands on your hips move behind your neck to push you closer to him. "it's-"
"rodrick? (name)? you two up there?"
shit.
his mom's voice runs throughout the house and rodrick practically picks you up off of him and sits you down. he grabs the tape and throws it back in the box with the others and pushes everything back in his closet.
he turns around and sees you sitting there with shock all over his face. "go downstairs what are you doing?" he whisper-shouts and moves you towards his bedroom door.
your feet stumble over towards the door, and you both are met with his mom standing at the top of the steps. "oh there you guys are, everything alright? you left the tv on downstairs," she asks.
rodrick answers before you can though. "yeah everything's fine- right (name)?"
you look back at his mom and put on a smile. "right."
she looks between you two for a moment but quickly turns to go back downstairs. "alright you two, just clean up downstairs for me will you?"
rodrick didn't say much to you after that, he actually closed his door and brushed past you, walking down the stairs.
"i'll just head home."
he nods at you but not before he studies your face for a moment.
you tried to ignore how you felt about what just happened and a part of you wanted to go back in his room and take the tape with you. but you respected him too much to do that.
respected him so much, that you even decided to leave after you took off his jacket and hung it on his doorknob. even giving back the one in your bag. maybe it was the way rodrick's demeanor took a whole 180, or maybe it was the way he blatantly ignored you after... whatever happened in his room.
but what could you really do about it?
so, as you left out the door, and the cool air hit your face you partially regretted not bringing your own jacket with you.
but all you really wanted to do was get home and ignore the tears that began to slowly well in your eyes.
and ignore the thought, that maybe you took it too far with him.
I saw you say you wanted to write for Clark some more could I request a ftm reader who has like a lot of piercings and one day he surprises Clark with like getting Superman jewelry for some of them
Like a belly button piercing or or or nipple piercings like I just recently got mine did and like it hurts but they look so so so so pretty
Clark discovers a new kink (or three)
Summary: Your piercer has some new jewelry and you learn some things about your boyfriend.
Pairing: Clark Kent x Ftm!Reader
Word count: 1.9k
Tags/Warnings: piercings, nipple play, smut, t-dick and hole used to describe sexual parts, implied top surgery, fingering, squirting, creampie, whimpering Clark Kent, a little after care, soft-dom Clark
A/n: Saw this request and couldn’t get it out my mind
You had a decent amount of piercings, you guess. You had your septum, the array of ears, eyebrow, angel bites, navel, and nipples. Lately, you’ve been considering others; a tongue ring, bridge, other lip piercings but you weren’t sure. At least until your friend had suggested you come with her to get her tattoo at your typical studio. You figured, why not. You had some spare cash, enough for a piercing and if you felt like it, you’d get one.
The studio, a little hidden place tucked above a barber shop and a hair salon, had a couple of services. They did tattoos, waxing, piercings, and sold items for all three in the front of the shop. While your friend was getting herself situated, checking in for the appointment and paying while you scanned the piercing shelves, hoping something spoke to you.
And boy did it.
Under the new section sat a wide selection of hero-themed jewelry. It had all the major ones, including Superman. He seemed to be the more prevalent one, considering you were in his city. But in the vast assortment, you couldn’t help but be drawn towards the nipple bars and belly rings.
“Whatchu lookin’ at?” Your friend asks, leaning against the glass as she looks down at the piercings. “Oh, score! They got Wonder Woman, might get the septum one.” The cashier drifts over and you get the three goods been eyeing while she decides not right now. Her septum isn’t healed enough for her to change out the jewelry. It wasn’t a lot, all things considered, less than the spare change you had in your pocket.
The two of you moved to the tattoo booth, her tattoo artist and she began talking while you eyed the jewelry.
Clark was probably still at work, he’d get home around five if there wasn’t someone who needed saving. And fuck, you can almost picture his reaction to seeing you wearing his logo.
While they were still talking about placements, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom to put them on. Half sure that this is safe because why wouldn’t a tattoo and piercing bathroom be sterile and safe but also half driven by the idea of a pent-up Clark. Sue you.
—
As expected, Clark got home exactly ten minutes after he clocked out. The front door was opening as you were lounging, looking for something to watch.
“Hi, I’m home, sweetheart!” He calls before he can even see you.
“Hey, baby! How was work?” The door closes and locks, he’s working on his shoes at the door. Shifting on the couch, you get rid of your shirt and stand up to meet him in the hallway.
“Uh, good. I started working on an article about the number of lead pipes in the city, it’s been approved. What about you? How did Gen’s tattoo go?” His black oxfords get placed neatly on the shoe rack as you wait at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall for him to look up.
“Eh, good. She has another session tomorrow. It’s looking cool,” As he stands to his full height, his eyes fall on your face. He smiles at you, already getting his tie off. You’re a little upset he doesn’t look you over immediately but you’ll forgive him because he’s mid-step, about to say something when he finally notices.
“Christ, is that—?” He’s in front of you faster than you can process, his hands on your hips as he looks at your nipples and then your navel.
“Like them?” You ask, grinning. He looks at you through his eyelashes, licking his lips.
“Like them?” He echoes, dragging his left hand up to your nipple and rolling his thumb over it. He’s breathing loudly, in through his nose and out through his mouth, his focus on the way your nipple hardens next to his symbol. Fuck, his symbol. “I love them,” He mutters while you hold his forearms, eyes half-lidded because he brings his right hand to do the same to your other nipple. It perks up just like the left one and soon enough, you moan a little at his actions.
He groans before he picks you up, his hands now firmly planted on your ass. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you undo his tie, tossing it to the ground, hoping Krypto doesn’t destroy it if he ends up finding it.
You’re on the bed soon after, the door shut and locked as if Krypton had grown thumbs and could open the door that way. Clark makes a point of turning the light on, slowly stalking to the bed as you lay there, your new jewelry shining in the light.
“You’re driving me crazy,” He drags out, climbing onto the bed from the end.
“Am I?” You tease, looking down at him, now propped up on your elbows. He groans a nod as he climbs on top of your legs, his hands planted firmly on either side of your thighs. Opening your legs, you watch as his eyes dart down, catching sight of your navel piercing again. It dangles, flipped over to the side without his symbol isn’t showing and that simply won’t do.
He looks up at you as he flips it over, making sure you watch as his hand ghosts over the piercing and down to the waistband of your boxers. Clark ignores it completely, dragging his index and middle finger down until he reaches your slit.
Once he does, he opens the flap on the boxers and grabs your t-dick, giving it slow strokes. “Fuck,” You whimper, your back arching a little as he does. Grabbing his head, you grip his hair and fall flat on your back. Carefully and without removing his hand, Clark climbs further up on you until he’s eye to eye with your nipples. You watch as he leans down, his tongue slowly dragging from his lips before they latch onto your nipple.
His teeth graze over it, his canines catch in the metal bar enough that it tugs. The pain is that awfully good pain that you need to chase, pressing your chest closer to his face. His hand ghosts over your scars, reaching up to give your other nipple the same attention.
“Clark,” You shudder.
“Kal-El,” His voice is an almost whimper of a plea. “Fuck, call me Kal-El, please.” His eyes meet yours and you nod. You’ve heard his birth name countless times, it’s not typically something he wants you to call him. But you have, and usually always get the same reaction— save you’re not calling him while injured.
“Kal-El,” You breathe as his lips return to your perky nipples. He groans, fisting the bed sheets, and humps the air aimlessly. “I need you, Kal-El,”
“You have me,” He promises, detaching and going over to your other nipple. He gives it licks between his words. “My mind, my body, my soul, my future— my everything.” His eyes focus on his symbol, his family crest stuck on your body unless it was deliberately removed. His home and his hope, inside of you.
“Fuck,” He groans and raises to his knees, his care for his shirt gone out the window as he literally rips it off, discarding the fabric to the floor. He does the same for his pants and boxers before he looks at you for approval. Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod and lift your hips, watching as he easily tears your boxers off as if they were paper.
He leans down, slowly sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you, the rest of his palm covering your t-dick. Your thighs quiver at the feeling, clenching around his wrist as Clark keeps eye contact with you.
“Kal—“ You gasp, feeling him work your insides. He nods, egging you on as he continues to finger you, his free hand working on pumping his already hard cock. As your chest heaves, his eyes switch back to your stomach, watching as the dangling charm bounces with each shaky breath you take. “Kal-el, please.” You manage.
He speeds up, his fingers quickly getting drenched and the room filling with wet, sloppy noises. “That feel good?” He asks and you nod wildly, your moans not letting you get a word out.
“So good,” You clench around him, the same way you do when you’re about to cum and he slows down before pulling his fingers out from you. “No, please Kal-el,” Grabbing his wrist, you try to pull him back inside but he laughs, pulling his arms behind his back before leaning down and kissing you. Kissing him back, you grind down on him, trying to get that high back.
Clark pulls away from the kiss, his lips dragging down your chin and neck while he keeps his eye contact. “Be patient, sweetheart,” He says while grabbing his dick, rubbing it up and down your slit before he slips the tip inside. With his free hand, he presses your stomach to the bed, keeping you in place as you whine. He has the audacity to laugh at you, slipping the tip in and out just to see you try and chase him.
“You’re being so mean,” You frown. “Please, baby.” Deliberately, you run your hands up your chest, flicking the metal bar that makes the S symbols on the end bounce. When his eyes zero in on the bar, you know you’ve gotten him and grind down again. This time, he slips past the tip and you let out a low moan, your eyes fluttering closed. Slowly, Clark rolls his hips, watching as he disappears inside of you, watching how your legs move and twitch with each slow, hard thrust.
It doesn’t last long though, as his eyes return to your face and he starts to pick up his pace. He leans down, kissing and sucking along your neck while you struggle to find a grip with the new pacing. Clark’s not faring any better, he’s a whimpering mess in your ear. Pathetic noises that leave him are like music to your ears.
You’re holding onto the headboard with one hand, the other is scratching at his back as he pounds into you. “You feel so good,” He slurs into your neck. “Taking all of me, like a good boy.” Your back arches up in the air as you struggle to make coherent sentences, tears budding in the corner of your eyes.
When you tighten around him, he looks at you, his wet eyelashes clumping together in a way that makes your toes curl and- for the first time- you squirt. He looks down, seeing his pelvis wet from it, and it rolls off of him and onto the bed. The feeling, the sounds, and the sight make Clark moan loudly, spilling into you. Despite it, he keeps himself inside of you, his dick slowly getting soft as his cum slowly seeps out.
He pants, rising up to his knees. His dick pulls out from you with a small pop and you twitch, staring at the ceiling. “Are you okay, baby?” He hurriedly asks, scooping you up. Blinking, you lick your lips before looking at him.
“Holy shit,” You chuckle, messing with his curls. “I should’ve gotten those sooner.” He snorts and picks you up properly, carrying you into the bathroom where he prepares a nice bath after cleaning you up.
—
Two days later, Clark doesn’t know how to react when you show off your new tongue piercing. His symbol lay flat on top of it. All he knows is that this is going to be a long, long, six weeks.
I'm having Victor Gideon brainrot rn and I saw you have requests open.... 😼😼
May I request a GN reader who loves to fall asleep with their head on Victor's lap whenever he's working? I love the thought of it and I'm yearning for a depiction LOLL
Shut Eye - Victor Gideon x GN!Reader
TAGS: fluff, domestic!victor, established relationship if you squint, no use of y/n
CW: none
WK: 1.1k
Another long day is coming to an end at the Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. The edge of a migraine claws at the top of your skull, simmering as you punch out for the evening. There are a few things you can do to keep it at bay: take a piping hot shower, wear something comfortable, take two Excedrin, wash those down with a nice cup of decaf, and rest your eyes. It might be the placebo effect, but you feel a little better at just the thought of the combination. It certainly helps that a certain someone may or may not be waiting for you in your room upstairs.
You decide to take the stairs to avoid the bright fluorescent lights in the elevator and the possibility of awkward small talk with any of your coworkers. At this point, all those flights of stairs hardly phase you. It doesn't take long before you've ascended to the top floor of the care center, which doubles as the living quarters of the staff. Making your way down the hallway you greet a few nurses and doctors heading down for the evening shift with a polite nod and smile, before finally reaching your door. You punch in your security code before entering, closing the door, and kicking your shoes off with a sigh. Finally, you think. You can relax.
The motions of your sacred little evening routine are easy to kick into gear. Tonight, you decide to turn on your favorite local radio station for some background noise. Afterwards, you grab your favorite pair of sweats, a fluffy towel, and start your shower. Steam fills the bathroom and you hum along to the easy melody that's filling your little space. You let the water fall against your back first and the hot water slowly but surely unwinds most of the tension you had built up during your shift. You decide to take your time with your shower, taking great pleasure in unwinding after the hard day.
After your out of the shower and blow drying your hair, you notice the smell of coffee first. The corners of your lips quirk up, You have a special guest this evening. Sure enough, when you're finally done in the bathroom, you have a certain someone sitting on your two-seater couch like he owns the place. Probably because he quite literally owns the place. "Seems like I've finally found the culprit for our costly water bill." He says with a Cheshire smile.
"Victor," You chuckle "I wasn't expecting you." You approach him and take the spot next to him. His eyes track your every movement, something you've likened to a predator. Not that you mind the attention. "I had some … free time." Victor responds. Sitting on the coffee table is a fresh brew of decaf in your favorite mug and prepared exactly how you like it. Right next to that are two Excedrin tablets. You take them and wash them down with he decaf before leaning back into the couch. You pretend not to hear or notice as Victor breathes in your scent.
"You? Free time?" You nudge him with your elbow. "Hard to believe you're wasting it on little ol' me." You tease him. "Waste?" Victor tilts his head, uncanny yellow eyes scanning your content facial expression. "No amount of time spent with you, my dearest partner, could ever be a waste." His large fingers soothe over your freshly washed and dried hair from the side of your head to the base of your skull. His tongue darts out and his nostrils flare. He dissects every note of your scent as if he hasn't done so a million times before. You meet his eyes and feel warmth climb up your neck.
"Well, I'm happy my old partner still thinks of me now that he's making it big." You reference his work with the ever mysterious Zeno. "Come now, I haven't been gone so long." He pulls his hand way. You and Gideon were partners in more ways than one, practically in every sense of the word. You had been at the center since the beginning, you were there beside him even before that, during Umbrella. More than that, you were still loyal to him now, knowing everything. When he changed, you accepted him in this new form.
"Looks like you're not just here for quality time though, hm?" You motion to the laptop and files that are also sitting on the coffee table. "Correct." He says slowly. Victor knows that you don't mind, not that it would make a difference even if you did mind. He has told you more than once that his work stops for nothing and no one. Of course you accept that. You also accept that most of his work with Zeno is confidential, so you don't wait around for a non-existent explanation about what work he brought with him.
"Listen, as long as you don't ask me to play tech support again you can stay as long as you want." You drink down some more decaf before placing the already near empty mug on the coffee table. You decide to get a little more comfortable. You lay on your back with your legs hanging over the arm of the little couch. Your head just so happens to be resting on your favorite pillow: Victor's lap. You had rested your head here perhaps a thousand times before. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a bit." The man grins down at you, who's already closing their eyes, before grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over you. One of his large hands settles on top of your skull, curling a lock of hair between his fingers.
"I won't get much work done like this, my dear." Victor chides. You huff through your nose in response. "Feel free to use my face as a desk. I doubt that would wake me up." You say, voice already getting drifty. It would appear as if you really are ready for bed. He chuckles and decides he'll figure something out. At the very least, he can read over his newest files. Looking down at you know, he feels an increasingly rare warmth bloom in his chest. You're older and grayer than you were all those years ago, but still carried all the same spunk. "Well, have it your way." He says, although there is a hit of affection in his tone. "Rest now. I'll be here when you wake." By the time he peaks the last word you've already drifted off.
꩜ hihi, dear anon! i’m so sorry for your wait. i hope you enjoyed this take on your request. i had a little trouble imagining what kind of work victor would do in which reader could rest their head on his lap … i hope this take works hehe. anyway, i want to thank you for your patience once again. have a great day, afternoon, and evening. 💖
A/N: everyone say thank you to my boyfriend for helping me talk through writing this. Ultimate writer’s block hack that I will be taking full advantage of
Also, sorry for the random posting, but I figured you all would like this better tonight than tomorrow
Written for this request
Dividers by @/firefly-graphics
CW: smut; explicit sexual content; petplay; muzzling; collaring; leashing; Bucky wears a gag; sub!Bucky; dom!Reader; ftm!Reader; Bucky is called ‘mutt’, ‘puppy’, ‘bad dog’, ‘good boy’, ‘babe’, ‘dog’, and ‘pup’; grinding; Reader’s wrists are pinned down; Reader’s parts are called ‘dick’ and ‘hole’; penetrative sex; drooling; brief crying during sex; edging; orgasm denial; praise kink; degradation kink; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; Reader is called ‘sir’; implied multiple rounds
1878 words
Bucky was not a person who let go of control easily. You knew this.
Which is why it’s all the more delicious that he’s letting you do this.
He’s kneeling next to your bed, barely resisting as you fasten the straps of the muzzle behind his head. You stroke his hair for a moment before tilting his head back.
He whines a bit, eyes glazed and dark with need. You smirk, barely biting back a chuckle at the dazed look on his face. The black metal of the muzzle looks so good on him and the gag inside makes his quiet sounds all the more thrilling.
“How’s that feel?” You murmur. “You look like a proper mutt now.”
He groans and drops his head forward, pressing the muzzle against the crotch of your boxers. The metal keeps him from mouthing at you and his whine sends a shiver up your spine.
“Aww,” you murmur, “Poor puppy doesn’t get his treat this time.”
He groans again and tilts his head to glare up at you. But you just smirk down at him and idly scratch at his scalp. He shivers immediately, melting into the touch and you chuckle.
“You gotta work for it this time, babe.”
Bucky whimpers in protest but you ignore it. Instead you tilt his head back again and clip the short leash to his collar. “There you go.”
He doesn’t protest as you tug on the leash. You guide him up and he climbs up, settling over you easily. His head lowers to nuzzle your neck but the muzzle stops him yet again.
He growls softly but you shush him. He just growls louder and drags the metal bars of his muzzle against your shoulder.
You grip his leash a little tighter, pulling it taut. A warning. “Come on, mutt,” you scoff. “You’re creative. You’ll figure something out.”
His growl turns into a whine and you soften a little. But only a little.
You grip his muzzle and drag his head up, fixing him with a look. “The muzzle stays on,” you say firmly.
He groans but you can feel the way his hips rut down against yours. You bite back a moan at the feeling. He’s so hard, already grinding against your boxers like he’s desperate to fuck you.
“You want it?” You barely manage to mask the tremble of need in your voice. “I just put the muzzle on you and you’re already acting like a damn dog.”
Bucky whimpers and shoves his muzzle against your neck again, rutting harder against you. You can’t hold back a moan this time, rocking up into his movements.
You reach down to push down your boxers but he growls and grabs your wrists. He pins your hands up over your head, easily keeping them there with his metal arm.
His other hand slides down, tracing along your body. Not to tease you, but out of awe.
He tugs down your boxers and tosses them to the side. His fingers swipe up through your slick to circle your dick and you moan at the touch.
“Fuck,” you groan, “You’re such a good boy.”
He shudders at the praise and you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh. Smearing precum against your skin. His muzzle presses harder against your skin, his breathing getting heavier.
You chuckle softly. “Come on, mutt. Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum that quickly. And without permission too.”
You’re expecting a growl, maybe some attitude. You’re not expecting the way he melts against you, whining pathetically. Rutting softly against your thigh like he can’t help it.
It sends a rush of electric delight through your body. “Oh, you like that?” You purr. “You wanna be a good boy then?”
Bucky’s groan is muffled by his gag, but it only makes the sound hotter.
“Come on, then,” you taunt. “Be a good boy, mutt. Fuck me like a good dog.”
He’s moving as soon as the words are out of your mouth. He growls and ruts against your slick hole a couple times, making you moan again.
You open your mouth to say something more. Something a little meaner. A little more goading.
But he gives you no warning before he’s pressing the tip of his dick to your hole and shoving inside.
“Fuck!” You arch, clenching down around him, “Oh, fuck, yes!”
He growls and starts to move. Rutting his hips against you to thrust his dick deeper into your eager hole. Every movement makes you shudder and moan.
He’s not even fucking you properly. He’s just rutting and rocking against you, shallowly thrusting in and out. And it’s so hot.
His muzzle knocks against your shoulder with every movement. His whimpers and stuttered breathing making your body pulse with heat. Every clench of your body around him makes another pathetic noise crawl from his throat and it only makes you clench harder.
Bucky groans again, body shifting over you as he starts to lift up. Probably to change the angle but you don’t care. You grip his leash tight, stopping him before he can get halfway up.
“Bad dog,” you gasp out. And he shudders.
He drops back against you with a pathetic whine, muzzle pressing sharply against your shoulder. But you don’t care, not when he ruts into you with renewed fervor. Not when he’s clearly chasing a high that’s almost in sight.
He whimpers and shivers and whines at you, drool dripping from the muzzle onto your skin. It’s ridiculously hot. Everything about him, everything about his desperation and his submission makes you burn with heat.
His thrusts get sloppier, his whimpers needier. He’s so close to cumming.
And you’re high on power.
“Not yet!” You moan out. “Not yet, puppy!”
The noise he makes goes straight to your dick. He almost sobs, his entire body jolting with the sound. He sounds agonized. Like it takes every inch of self-control and obedience in him to obey.
But he stops.
And he heaves for breath. Shaking and shuddering on top of you, gripping your wrists so hard it’s almost painful.
You grip his leash, keeping his head low. Letting his muzzle press to your shoulder. Shuddering and clenching so tightly around him as drool and tears leak onto your skin.
“Fuck,” you hiss out. Your body throbs with need. Your spine is tingling with delight at the way he obeys you. Your head dizzy with the rush of lust and glee and the desire to see just how far you can push him.
But it’s a whimper from Bucky that draws you back. A soft, pained noise. He’s trembling, dick twitching hard inside you. Free hand gripping the sheets under you like they’re a lifeline.
You loosen your grip on his leash.
“Good boy,” you croon softly. “You’re such a good pup, being so obedient like that.”
He shivers and melts against you again. A muffled moan echoing from his throat. He starts to move again, slow thrusts of his hips that make the slide of his dick intoxicating.
“That’s it,” you purr. “That’s my good puppy.”
He whines again, once more pressing his muzzle to your neck. And you finally take pity on him.
“You can do better than that,” you murmur, leaning in to softly bite at his muzzle. “You know the rules, pup.”
He whimpers softly but lets go of your wrists. Your hands move to his head, lightly gripping his hair. Softly rubbing your fingertips against his scalp.
He uses his metal arm to prop himself up while his other hand trails down your body again. He keeps thrusting, even as he circles your dick with his skilled fingers.
Your hands fist in his hair and you moan, arching under him as pleasure zings up your body. You’re already so wound up that it barely takes any time at all before you’re falling apart beneath him, shaking through a delicious orgasm.
He doesn’t stop thrusting all the way through it. Even when he stutters and whimpers with need at the way you clench so hotly around him. He doesn’t cum and he doesn’t stop.
You’re barely half recovered, barely able to remember how to form words. But you finally let go of his leash.
“Come on, mutt,” you moan out. “You’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me like a real dog.”
And he loses it. His hips snap forward, burying his dick inside you. He lifts up just enough to get the perfect angle and then he fucks you.
His hands grip your hips bruisingly hard. He pounds into you, shaking the bed with the force of his desperation. His head is tossed back and you can barely hear his muffled howls. He’s lost to his pleasure and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
You cum on his dick again and his thrusts speed up. He lets go of your hips to slam his hands down on either side of your head, leaning in close. You can barely think.
His drool drips into your open mouth and you greedily swallow it down. He groans above you, his hips stuttering like he’s on the very edge of cumming.
“Cum for me, puppy,” you gasp out. “Be my good boy!”
He breaks. He cums hard inside you, shudders of pleasure wracking his body. His thrusts turn to slow deep grinds of his cock, letting your body milk him into overstimulation.
Only then does he collapse against you. His breathing hard and fast.
Your fingers hasten to undo the straps of his muzzle and he lets out a pathetic moan as you gently pull it off him.
He buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin and dropping kisses against your shoulder. Sucking in deep breaths as you both come down from your highs.
You pet his hair as you both relax. His weight on top of you is familiar and comforting and soothes the greedy part of your mind that wants more.
He makes a low sound against you and starts to shift up. The movement makes you clench a little around his dick and he hisses from the sudden stimulation. “Fuck!”
You force your body to relax again and he pulls out with a soft groan. But his fingers immediately press to your hole, carefully pushing his leaking cum back into you.
“Bucky,” you groan, covering your face with your arm. Your face suddenly burning hot.
“What?” He murmurs, voice low and raspy. “I don’t have a knot to do this for me.”
A bolt of heat shoots straight to your dick at the thought and you clench hard beneath his fingers.
“We— You—“ Just the thought of his dick having a knot. Of his cum being kept inside you like that. Of you two being forced to cuddle until his knot went down. Just the thought has you dizzy with lust all over again.
Bucky just grins. “How else are we supposed to have pups together?”
You grab for his leash and yank him back down into a filthy kiss. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me again.”
He chuckles and kisses you back eagerly. “Yes, sir.”
You don’t let him leave the bed again for hours. And it’s worth every single minute.
