IM GONNA NEED A MOMENT TO RECOVER BC HOLY HELL THIS WAS JUST SO GOOD IM-

listening to Bob moan and whine as he slowly slides into and bottoms out into you from behind just whimpering in your ear “holy shit baby, so fucking good, so good to me, please darling please” not even knowing what he’s begging for, thighs quaking and the pleasure running through him threatens to make his knees give out and naturally put you into a mating press, full on skin to skin contact, Bob mouthing at your neck, shoulders, any skin he can get to

I’m-

this caught me off guard so much holy fucking shit anon I was just sitting here watching my tv show and you do this to me?!??

I mean you have a point but a bitch needs some warning first Jesus Christ I’m never gonna recover from this, my plans for the evening are cancelled, this is gonna be in my brain forever

I’ve been struck by another smutty miguel idea and I’ll write it when I get off work today <3

FERAL. FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. GOING INSANE.

These Moments w Adrian has me in a literal headlock it’s so good. if ur ever open to posting a part 2 where reader n Adrian actually get to kiss id scream, cry and die probably and be eternally in your debt. bUT only if you’d like of course! I’m loving this blog <3

jawbreaker

these moments, pt. 2

[read pt. 1 here]

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, gn sex descriptions)

rating: e+ (canon-typical violence and gore, explicit sexual content)

word count: 4,365

one-sentence synopsis: the next day doesn't quite go according to plan, but that doesn't mean that you and adrian don't end up getting what you want from it.

author's note: okay i fucked up making this a drabble. i hope everyone forgives me for only posting this today because it's like 4k+ of adrian slaughtering aliens and then fucking you into a desk like a maniac so i think it's worth it. anyways i hope everyone else likes this too!!!! enjoy!!!!!!

read on ao3!

“Duck!” Vigilante shouts, and you drop to the ground automatically, hands over the back of your head.

Only a second later, there’s a short, sharp whistle flying over your head. An explosion rocks the ground in front of you, and you don’t waste any time leaping back up to your feet, hauling yourself back into a sprint.

Vigilante catches up at your side, keeping a fast pace with you as you run. He turns around, trusting you to navigate a path through the trees as he takes aim at one of your pursuers and fires. You hear a choked-off scream behind you and a thud as a body falls, and you don’t break pace, taking Adrian’s arm to jerk him out of the way of tripping backwards over a root.

A gunshot rings out, and a bullet whizzes past the both of you. Adrian laughs, whirling to flip off whoever made the shot with one hand, taking aim with the other.

"You missed, motherfucker!" he calls out gleefully. He fires twice, then leaps and pushes himself into a twisting side flip so he lands facing forwards, sprinting along at your side again.

Adrian whoops, holding his hand up for a high-five, and you smack your gloved palm to his.

"Fuck yeah!" he shouts. He transfers his gun to his left hand, reaches out with his right so the two of you can thread your fingers together between you. You keep navigating forward, your vision tinted dark by the visor in your helmet.

You’d had every intention of cornering Adrian alone when you woke up this morning and making good on your promise to finish what he’d started last night, but you hadn’t had a very gentle wake-up call. Instead of waking up to swap shifts, you’d both awoken to Chris hurtling into the camp, shouting that they’d been seen and everybody needed to move now. You and Adrian had grabbed what you could, yanking on clothes and masks and holstering weapons before sprinting off into the woods with everybody else.

Now, you feel— admittedly relatively well-rested, since the sun’s up and you actually got a bit of decent sleep. Your adrenaline’s pumping, and you’re not entirely sure what’s going on, but you know you’re almost to the van, and nobody’s hurt, so you’re counting this as a win so far.

At your side, Adrian tilts his head just slightly. You look towards him for a fleeting second, and he’s releasing your hand.

“Keep going,” he says, “I’m following. I’ll be watching you.”

You do as he says. He keeps you in his peripheral vision, starting to jog backward again so he can keep his eyes on the trees behind you. There’s a bang, and he’s pinpointing the noise in the same moment you feel the whizz of vibrating air as a bullet flies over your shoulder, just barely missing your throat.

You yelp, and Adrian snarls, calling, “Who the fuck shot that?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, taking aim and firing his own weapon once, twice, th— unloading his gun, actually, and then holstering it and pulling out another one.

“Hey!” Adrian sprints up beside you, demanding to know, “Did that fucking hit you? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” you promise him. He slows slightly, just enough that he can balance reaching out to touch your masked face with his gloved hand. You may have several layers of tough fabric between you, but you swear his touch still burns there. You can feel the heat of his eyes through the visors, as strong as his touch; you can see and feel him without seeing and feeling him.

“Okay, good,” Adrian says. He draws away so he can pull a knife into the hand your face was just in. “Keep it that way.”

“Over here!” Chris calls, and you change direction, hauling Adrian by the elbow to pivot him along with you. You come skidding into the clearing just as John brings the van screeching up.

“Get in!” John calls from inside. Emilia hauls the door open, turning to help Leota up into the back of the van. She grabs your hand next, yanking you up. Adrian comes rocketing in beside you, jumping off the ground to send himself crashing through the van without her help.

From outside, something rocks the van, and you turn to see people— who are definitely no longer strictly people, but morphing into huge reptilian beasts you’ve never seen outside of a movie theater before today— converging on Chris, the last of you into the van.

Nobody else has noticed yet, and you act on instinct, running and jumping back out onto the ground. Behind you, Emilia shouts your name.

“What the fuck?” you hear Adrian say. You ignore his voice, running to meet Chris with your gun drawn just as one of the mutating creatures pins him to the ground. You cock your gun, take aim, and fire, splattering blood and gore across your face and Chris’.

Behind you, there are pounding footsteps. You’re sure you know exactly which one of them was stupid enough to leave the van; you don’t need to look back to know it’s Adrian.

You offer Chris a hand to help him to his feet just as another creature comes launching down out of the trees. You draw your gun, but then, you hear a vicious snarl behind you— or, two vicious snarls: a man and a machine, and you almost would laugh, if you weren’t halfway through trying to save your own life, and the rest of the team’s. You drop to the ground, grabbing Chris and yanking him down with you, already knowing where this is going.

Adrian comes flying over the both of you a second after you fall flat to the ground, his chainsaw growling louder than the shrieks of the reptilian creatures. The machine howls as Adrian pushes it through the alien’s body, splitting the creature in half with a gory spray.

Even over the machine, you hear Adrian laugh, saying, “That’s what you get, motherfucker!” He turns around, finding you climbing to your feet. He holds the chainsaw up, blood soaked into both him and it, dripping off to the ground. “I fucking did it! Did you fucking see that? Oh, fuck, that was so fucking cool—”

You point above his head as another creature starts coming. You see the person the creature used to be before it starts mutating, and it looks like that lookalike Adrian had been suspicious of yesterday, the one who looked like Adam Driver and Jason Schwartzman had a baby, which is— kind of poetic, in its own way.

Adrian turns immediately when you point, trusting you, as always, to guide him. He shreds the creature with the buzzing saw as it tries to come down on him, splitting it from the skull down. Laughing, he leaps past it to tear through the trees, seeking out the creatures with a vicious delight.

“Jesus Christ,” Chris says.

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling inside your mask. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”

There’s an incredulous silence from Chris for a moment before he says, “You two belong together,” and it sounds like an accusation or a joke, but you can’t help but feel like it’s a compliment. Your grin widens.

“You should tell him that,” you say. “It’d mean a lot coming from you. Good references, you know.” You offer him your hand again, and he takes it. There was a time not so long ago he would’ve brushed you off and stood on his own; you can’t help but take this as growth, both for him as a person and for your friendship.

Chris claps you on the back when you start heading for the van, the both of you sprinting again, the urgency of the situation not lost on you. You’re sure that’s all the thanks you’ll get for saving him, which is okay with you; growth comes in pieces.

Emilia and Chris are just offering you hands up into the van when Adrian comes sprinting back into the clearing. His chainsaw is gone, and he’s running at top speed, shouting, “Go, go, go! Go! It’s Godzilla, go—”

Behind him, sure as fucking shit, the creatures have started joining together to form one huge fucked-up sort of reptile creature. One of the creatures that hasn’t yet become part of the mass leaps at Adrian, and you scream, but he’s already twisting against it. He jumps up, swinging himself around onto the thing’s back with an arm around its throat. He snaps its neck, tucks and rolls over its body as it falls.

The next creature that grabs him sees a knife slid up into the soft underside of its jaw before Adrian’s lopping its head off, and the next— and last— that snatches at his ankles with its teeth gets the last of his violent rage.

Adrian twists around, hauling himself up so he’s wrapped around the creature from the front, knocking it flat on its back. He pulls back, then starts beating the shit out of the lizard monster, raining blows on it until it's an unrecognizable mass of blood and flesh, dead on the ground. When it’s stopped moving— long after it’s stopped moving— Adrian picks himself up off the ground and chases after the van, leaping into it just as John revs the engine and starts driving back through the trees.

Chris and Emilia are shouting back and forth at each other, arguing about what they should do about this thing, but you just watch Adrian as he gets to his feet in the back of the van. He reaches up to tug his mask off of his face, sucking in a deep breath when he does.

Adrian turns to evaluate his options among the weapons set in the mount along the inside wall of the van. He spends only a moment there before plucking one of the compact rocket launchers from the selection. He only pauses to slip his glasses on before he situates himself in the center of the van. Humming to himself, he gets to one knee on the floor, unfolds the machine in quick snaps, loads it, and peeks into the sight.

He’s still humming to himself as he aims and fires directly into the huge monster’s mouth. You watch him as he grins, eyes fixed on the beast; it’s only then that you turn to see it, too, as it suddenly bursts into an explosion of scales and flaming chunks of lizard insides and a shower of blood that patters on the top of the roof like rain.

In the aftermath, Adrian laughs, exclaiming, “Oh, shit, I think this is the coolest day of my fucking life! Did you see that shit? Holy shit!”

He runs a hand back through his hair, leaving blood streaked through it. Eyes wild, he whirls, seeking you out where you’re holding yourself upright by the driver’s seat.

Adrian stumbles over to you, the van jostling under him as he tries to walk. The van doors slam shut behind him, Chris reaching to haul them closed, and the inside of the van is at least quieter now, even if your blood is still rushing in your ringing ears.

You look up, heart pounding, as Adrian reaches up and tears your mask off, too. You inhale deeply, getting your lungs full of fresh air, seeing Adrian unfiltered.

“Hey,” Adrian says, then drops down, gathering you close to him. He cups your jaw in his gloved hands before realizing he still has his gloves on, curses, “Fuck, hold on, let me just—” and yanks them off, getting his bare hands on your bare skin, heedless of the blood he’s smearing, leftover from his gloves.

He’s a fucking maniac. You just watched him tear through all those people— and monsters— and that fucking giant— thing, whatever that was— with glee. This is the coolest day of his life, he’s just told you. Mowing down people with a chainsaw, blowing up an alien mutant, massacring hordes like he’s a dark fucking Superman or something.

You couldn’t be more in love with him. You couldn’t be more turned on by him. He’s making you feel insane. You think you might be unhinged, but at least, in that case, you both are, together.

“Hey,” you reply, heat gathering low in your belly, an electric charge that sparks up your spine to explode in your chest.

You tilt your head up, lifting your chin, and even Adrian gets the hint on that one. Heedless of the rattling van, holding himself up with one hand braced against the roof above him, Adrian reaches up with his other hand to cup your jaw in his hand. His thumb sweeps along your cheek, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he smiles. He smiles, like he didn’t just kill all those things, like he didn’t just take all those lives, and you can’t help smiling back.

Adrian drops his head so he can brush his nose against yours, just for a moment. It’s like all the anticipation from yesterday is coiling inside you again. The intensity of not only that, but of the amount of the time you’d even been waiting before— It’s been so long that you’ve wanted Adrian, and he’s been just out of reach, drawing closer and closer but never near enough for you to just— grab.

Finally, he’s here, right within your reach, and you reach up to thread your arms around his neck, trusting him to keep the both of you upright even as the van bumps out onto the road. You don’t care about your audience, or the gore, or any of it. You just care that you finally have him, that he’s holding you like you’re something so precious after you just watched these hands annihilate entire lives.

You part your lips without thinking, eyes flickering from his eyes down to his mouth, waiting for him to draw you together. He exhales shakily, then finally, finally, finally drops down to kiss you.

It’s everything, everything you ever wanted from him, everything you’ve ever needed from him. He tilts his head just slightly, loosens his jaw so he can part your lips further and lick into your mouth immediately. Only a moment later, he withdraws, and kisses you bruisingly hard. A flare of heat rockets down through you, and you kiss back as hard as you can, letting him consume you. He bites at your lower lip, he glides along your tongue, he presses closer and harder into you, the two of you gasping for breath but unwilling to part.

After so long not doing this, you never want to stop doing this. The only reason you do stop is Chris saying, “Okay, Jesus, just— Stop fucking humping each other, this is disgusting.”

“You’re covered in guts,” Leota agrees.

“They’re licking each other,” Chris argues, like that’s the bigger issue.

You draw away, not quite paying enough attention to them to laugh. You do smile, though, eyes flicking up to meet Adrian’s again. His pupils are blown dark, leaving only a ring of bright green around their edges as he looks you over.

“Where are we?” Adrian asks.

“We’re, like, two minutes from headquarters,” John tells him.

“Pull over,” Adrian says. Another flare of heat explodes in you as he keeps his eyes fixed on you. He drops his head down, close to the shell of your ear, promises, “I can’t wait to fucking just— Touch you, I want— I want to fuck you— I’ll fuck you against a tree if I have to—”

“He said two minutes,” you reply breathlessly, even as the image of Adrian forcibly stopping a van so he can fuck you against a tree because he can’t wait two minutes after waiting literal months knocks your heart into an even faster breakneck pace than it’d been in before.

“Fuck,” Adrian groans out. He slams his fist against the roof of the car, then glares at John through the rearview mirror. Pointing at him through the reflection, he says, “Two minutes.”

“Jesus Christ, okay, I’m driving,” John snaps back at him.

“That was so fucking cool,” you tell Adrian. He looks back down at you, all delight again, written across the flushed strokes of his face.

“Wasn’t that just—” Adrian is briefly speechless, trying to figure out what he wants to say, and ends up making a noise instead, a wordless, excited shriek of a noise before he’s diving back in to kiss you again. Against your lips, he starts speaking again, says, “I’m feeling so fucking good, like, my blood’s fucking pumping, I really blew that thing up— Hey, what the fuck was that?” Adrian asks, twisting away to ask Emilia. “Do you know what the fuck I just killed?”

“Nothing good,” she answers, and Adrian fist-pumps in the air before twisting back for another biting kiss.

John screeches into the parking lot at your little innocuous office-building headquarters, where you and the 11th Street Kids are used to hiding in plain sight. When Chris kicks open the back of the van, Adrian throws you over his shoulder. You inhale in a sharp gasp, startled. His arm wraps around your legs, his hand holding your hip as he hops out to the parking lot.

Adrian shoves open the front door of the office, striding past the conference table to take you into the mostly-empty back office. He kicks the door shut behind him with a hard slam, sending it rattling in its frame. He brings you right to the desk, using his free arm to sweep everything on it onto the ground so he can throw you down on top of it, flat on your back.

In the next second, Adrian’s wrestling out of his uniform, tearing the clasps on his chest armor apart to send them peeling to the ground. He kicks it all aside, climbing up and over you onto the solid wood desk, stripped down to his boxers, skin slick with sweat. He glides up over you, finding the zipper on your own tight uniform, drawing it down in a sharp tug that bares your skin in a heated rush.

“Did you like that?” Adrian asks, pushing your uniform back off your shoulders. He tears your clothes down off of you, your hot skin meeting the cool desk in a flash that leaves prickles all over your flesh. “Wasn’t that awesome? What’d you—” His mouth finds your throat, teeth and wet heat that draw back a split second later. “What’d you think?”

“I think you’re amazing,” you tell him breathlessly. He shoves you further up the desk, sets himself between your legs, spreading your thighs apart. He licks over you, the flat of his tongue just— tasting you, for a moment— and your head knocks back into the desk, your back arching up. “Oh, fuck— I think you’re so amazing, you’re incredible, Adrian, I’m—”

Your voice breaks off with a sharp cry, and your hand flies up to cover your own mouth and muffle the noise. Adrian reaches up blindly, tugging sharply at your elbow to free you.

“Let me hear you,” he orders you. His hands come to your thighs again, spreading you apart, drawing your leg up over his shoulder to hook there.

When you push up onto one elbow to look down at him, you can see him already looking at you— looking down at you, spreading your legs further apart so he can reach between you and spread you apart. His face is flushed, cheeks red, up to the tips of his ears; he tugs his glasses off and tosses them aside before he drops back in again. He tilts your hips for you so he can dip in again, getting a better angle to lick inside of you. His other hand comes up to work you at your core, threading up above his head to get his fingers on your properly.

Your hips buck up of their own accord, and Adrian shoves you back down. His nose brushes along the inside of your thigh, and you make a strangled noise that rips up out of your chest, falling back again. You slam your bare palm down flat on the desk.

“Fuck, Adrian,” you curse as he keeps his mouth busy on you, jaw working, eating you like he’s trying to devour you. You can feel rocketing heat gathering stronger and stronger, coiling tighter and tighter at your core. You’re near tears, practically crying from the edge, from the near-overstimulation, wanting so badly to have him forever, to never have this end, to have this end now.

You’re throbbing, and you reach down, grasping blindly at him, fisting a hand in his hair. Adrian lets you guide him up, just slightly, before he twists to bite at the inside of your thigh. You cry out, face twisting sideways into the desk, leaving a smear of sweat and tears.

Adrian turns to lick into you one last time, tongue deep inside, keeping you spread wet and open, before he draws back to stand again. It’s only for a breath of a second before he kicks out of his boxers and slides up your body again, the hard, hot line of his cock gliding wet up your thigh, pressing hard into your belly when he drops down to kiss you.

“Oh, fuck, you’re the fucking— best person I know,” Adrian tells you, and you huff a laugh, smiling as you throw your arm over your face. “No, hey, c’mon, hey—” He reaches up, lifts your arm, tugging it up so he can see your face again. He cups your jaw, kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, your lips. “Oh, fuck, thank you. Thank you for letting me do this, I want—” He bites your lower lip again, his kiss bruisingly hard. “I want you so fucking bad, can I—”

“Yeah,” you tell him, “Please, just—”

He seals his mouth with yours again, dripping sweat, smearing streaks of dried pink blood across your slick skin. He guides the head of his cock to your loose hole, wet where he’s worked you open until you fell apart around his tongue.

You grip the strong cut of his jaw now as he licks into your mouth like he’d like inside you before, and you grind up into him, desperate for friction where you want it most.

When Adrian pushes in, he groans your name, biting it off into your mouth before he drops to bury his face in your throat. His jaw keeps working, mouth open against your skin as he thrusts into you in a deep, hard push, his hips driving to meet yours.

He doesn’t hesitate, lifting up so he can take your hips in his hands and start fucking you in earnest. He bows over you, pushing you as far back as he can get you to go, lifting your leg to hitch up again so he can change and deepen his angle in you. You swear he can feel him fucking up into your throat, devouring your body with his, hungry for every inch of you. You can hardly believe that twelve hours ago, you’d never kissed him before; you think you’ll never be able to stop kissing him again.

Adrian keeps repeating your name, saying, “Fuck, oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so tight, you’re so hot, you’re so—” He bites into the meat of your shoulder, clings to you, doesn’t let you go. You dig your nails into him, clinging to him, and he impossibly speeds up. The desk drawers rattle under the force of him fucking you into the desktop, and you fall apart under him. “Oh, fuck, I can’t— I can’t—”

He drags you up for another biting, hot kiss, keeping his eyes open like a freak. You do the same thing, keeping that eye contact as you rocket closer and closer to your edge. Your blood is boiling, has been for fucking hours, and you’re finally, finally there, shooting over the edge.

“Adrian, fuck—” punches up out of your throat. You’re overwhelmed with the heat that overflows through you, your mind whiting out.

Adrian’s teeth find your throat again when his hips fuck deep into you and still, his shoulders shaking, your name muffled by your own flesh as it pours out of his mouth into your skin. After a few moments, he shifts, thrusting again to fuck you through the rattlign aftershocks, riding each wave of his orgasm through your body.

When he finally stops, he drops to press into you like a heavy human blanket, burying his face in the space behind your ear, kissing along to your jaw. Every kiss is wet, sloppy, open-mouthed, dragging into the next.

“Sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “I made a mess.”

You laugh breathlessly, reaching up to thread your hands through the sweat-slick hair at the back of his head. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind a little bit of a mess.”

Adrian lifts his head to look you over, then grins. “You look like you got got.” His fingertips trail over your throat, down your shoulder. His touch dips into the bruises and bites he’s left behind all over you. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Hey, if you don’t mind waiting, like, ten minutes, I think I could probably fuck you again—”

“Adrian,” you tell him, “We are a fucking mess, this is— not the time, we should—”

Adrian drops to drag his tongue flat over one of the deeper bite marks in your shoulder, sending a spark rattling down your spine, spreading like a haze through your insides. You exhale sharply, grabbing at his hip.

“What’s up?” Adrian asks, smug, delighted with himself.

“Just— Shut up and get back up here,” you say, and Adrian drags up to kiss you again, slick and lazy, still smiling.

"You don't tell me what to do," he says. He's unable to stop grinning. "I tell you what to do," but he still draws up closer and kisses you again.

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella

no bc you don’t understand how obsessed I am with this fic, I love you forever for writing this💓

The text post about “ your fav is fucking his fist rn thinking of you” please lord let it be for Steve ( I’m. Late I know)

a/n: heheh it is :) 1.5k words of male masturbation ayyye. also, if you have not already, go check out @heavenbarnes’ ficlet, which haunts me everyday. please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

slow hands*

Steve jerks off— a lot.

Even before the serum, when he was just any other violently hormonal, grass-fed, free-range human boy, instinct couldn’t be denied. Even after a long period of reflection during his catechism days, he wasn’t able to make heads or tales out of why any creator might give two shits about whether or not Steve fucks his hand.

Now as a whopping 200-pound slab of grade-A, laboratory-engineered, serum-enhanced super-soldier, if he doesn’t pump one out every twenty-four hours, it’s hard to focus on much else. All of that unbridled testosterone crawls right up behind his eyes and his brain fizzles at the edges, agitated like an animal in a cage.

(So, although it’s mostly pleasure, it’s also necessity.)

He knows that it’s best before bed because early mornings or while showering requires working within the constraints of a ticking clock; if he’s got a packed schedule and needs a quick rub, fine, but not his favorite.

He knows that he likes certain activities, and if he’s looking at porn, specific categories and maybe a few performers will fit a niche—but sometimes he’ll spiral into a hundred other videos and he’s stayed up one (or five) too many nights doing that.

More than anything, Steve knows nothing beats his imagination, and he knows the best lies you can tell are ones with a bit of truth attached to them.

So, he plays a little game.

He thinks about you.  

Cheeky you, who’s always teasing him about taking life too seriously. So prim and proper, Steve, you purr, always Mr. Punctual. Aren’t you tired of being nice? Loosen up—go dancing, meet a girl, have a one-night stand; fuck with the lights on for once.

Hm. Sure he’d like to, but all he’s got is about forty-five minutes before bed because he’s frankly too busy (see: stubborn, see: not interested in just any girl) for anything else.

For forty-five minutes, Steve takes a moment of truth and runs warp speed into the burning sunset with it.

The time you put your hand in his hair to fix a flyaway before a press conference—what if you gripped it hard, instead? Your candy pink lip gloss on Friday evening—what if it smudged off on his jaw, his collar, his eager cock? How you looked lifting out of the pool with rivulets of water dribbling into the hollow of your throat—what if he pressed his cheek to it, drank from it?

(The expression that might cross your face when you realize Steve would very much like to fuck you with the lights on.)

When you kissed him on that mission in Thailand, sliding into his lap to hide the both of you in a corner nook of a restaurant. The taste of sweetened coffee passed from your mouth to his, and he couldn’t help but dart his tongue out. You playfully scolded him about taking advantage of a dangerous situation (it wasn’t that dangerous), and despite all your usual attitude, it was surprisingly cute how you couldn’t make eye contact afterwards, making him want to kiss you again just to figure you out.

Last night—when you smiled, the glimmer in your eyes like a sliver of moonlit coin and if he blinked at the wrong time, he might have missed it. Your breathy laugh, your little giggle, how you raggedly pant while you spar, he thinks about those sounds mingled with his name. Your weight, a perfect amount of pressure crawling on top of him, mapping out the expanse of his chest.

He’d be happy just to watch, finally able to see you in glimpses not bordering voyeuristic like when you zip up in the hangar or concerned when you peel off Kevlar layers smudged with gunpowder. No, you’d be relaxed and tangible, full and felt—breasts, waist, belly, the sides of your hips as you straddle him, pulling his hands toward your body and letting him touch you.

Steve sighs into the darkness of his room, sweats shucked off, lube-slick hand feeling for his already aching cock. What’s he going to think about tonight? The small of your back when you lean over the pool table? The long, graceful shape of your fingers exploring his torso? Your face dazed, tipsy-tinged after a few drinks and sweet on his shoulder?

(He would like more of that. He could make you look like that if you ever asked.)

His hips move in careful circles, testing his grip, nudging at the tunnel of his fist like how your pussy would resist the first thrust until he wedges his way past it, slipping the head of his cock into your warmth. You’d be so, so warm. So soft and tight and perfectly fitted around him.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve mutters, eyes squeezed shut.  

He fucks into his fist, the sound of slick gushing out like wet slaps, like the hot clutch of noise your tight hole would make as he’d stretch it out—as he’d stretch you out.

He’s panting harder. You‘d look breathtaking on all fours, head turned around to see him rutting inside, jaw slack in disbelief that your body could keep taking him like this, like you could break any moment.  

The pretty, pretty whimpers at the harsh punctuation of every thrust. They’d tear loose from your throat and you wouldn’t be able to bite them down anymore. You could unravel because of him—shattering because he’ll have gotten past your defenses, gotten so deep you could do nothing but arch back for more, needing him further, needing him to know you how nobody else knows you.

Steve’s mind races through each position— every arrangement of your arms and legs in ways you’d give into because he would make the burn delicious, blurring discomfort into pleasure, and how you wouldn’t care if it might hurt because desire would be the drive— him behind the wheel taking you closer to that cliff’s edge.

He’s peeling off into the horizon now, moaning, bucking carelessly, blinded by the bright sun, by the white threatening to explode behind his eyes.

“Uhhhnn—” he looks down at his throbbing cock, swollen with friction and fiction, his other hand rolling the tender skin of his sac between his fingers. He squeezes a hair trigger tighter, in pulses, mimicking how you’d feel close to coming, begging for his release to fill you. Your hands gripping his hair for purchase, hard and frenzied, the scrape of your nails on his scalp. And finally, the abandoned, purely physical response of your body during orgasm, the undeniable wrecked wail of his name.

He’d be rough and gentle all at once, he’d make you taste yourself, clean up the mess you’ve made on him, and then he’d kiss it out of your mouth when he fucks you again. You’d be sore already, and sore the next day. He’d want to leave you aching, shuddering, babbling and delirious for more, for only him.

You’d cry, Steve, oh—my god—oh my god—feels so good, Steve. Fuck me harder, please. However you want—whatever you want, I promise.

You’d suck on his fingers, bite down when it became too much, too good. You’d shake, and shake, and shake and Steve— he falls.

Spun out, headfirst, off the steepest bluff of his inventions and crashes into open waves beneath. Your moaning mouth, your soaked cunt, your entire being an unprimed canvas waiting for his splatter.

And it’d be perfect.  

He comes in ropes, gasping into the reverberating echo of his own breath, hips still moving, back still arched, wet slick dripping down into his fist where he keeps going, using it as another coat of lube. Maybe you’d squirt. Maybe you’d put your face in your hands, embarrassed, or maybe you’d lose all control and he’ll have to hold you up.  

The second wave comes fast and better than the first.

The third, easy, only tinged with a prickle of rawness that makes his toes curl.  

Steve’s chest is sweat-slick and heaving, heat rising off his body as he evens out, throat murmuring the syllables of your name in yearning. He nudges hair off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, and then he checks his clock.

Back to reality, forty-five minutes on the dot tells him he’s still punctual, as you say.

He cleans up, stretching his back as he ambles to the restroom before returning to bed, satisfied. And when Steve tucks himself in for another peaceful night’s sleep, he wonders what you do in the privacy of darkness and if your ritual is anything like his own.

Do you shuck off your lounge clothes? Do you fuck yourself beneath layers of covers with your fingers? A toy? Grab your tits and put those same fingers in your mouth? Do you think about someone—do you think about him? His dick is still half-hard, half-raring for another session because the fourth and fifth time, when it hurts even worse, feels like coming up for breath after a drowning-- feels beyond good.

He’ll think about you some more tomorrow.  

(He’ll think about making you come four or five times.)

BABE PLS IM LOSING IT OVER THIS HNGGG😩

needy

Title: Needy

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s at work, and you need him. Bad. 

Warnings: Smut, very brief mention of body insecurity, sexting, tooth rotting fluff, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: based on some awesome chubby!Bucky asks i’ve had sitting in my inbox for a while (sorry nonnies, life happened haha). but i hope you’ll all enjoy the latest addition to my Chubby Bucky collection! divider by @rainbowkisses31​!

Bucky, are you off work soon? 

The text makes him smile.

Keep reading

oh god this has me going absolutely feral, ugh what i would give to have sam fuck me like this-

Training Day

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Sam Wilson x woc!reader

Summary: The one where training with Sam leads to other things

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: look….it’s smut. choking, semi public sex, female receiving oral, spanking (once really) unprotected sex (wrap it before they tap it), creampie, daddy kink (just the name used once), size kink because sam was so gd beefy in tfatws and it makes me feral 

A/N: SAM WILSON PIN ME TO THE WALL CHALLENGE. This one goes out to my main Samhoes @ritesofreverie​ & @certainaesthetic​ This is obviously set after TFATWS so Sam is Captain America (AS HE SHOULD BE). The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

Keep reading

AHHHHHHHH I CANT EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS!!!

this was the best way I could express myself

The Conqueror’s Weakness

I’m back to writing from a long hiatus! I saw Quantumania last weekend and came here looking for Kang smut. I couldn’t find very many so I decided to give it a shot. I’ve had a massive crush on Jonathan Majors since Lovecraft Country in 2020 so I’m incredibly happy he’s blowing up now.

Masterlist can be found here!

Direct tags: @blackleatherjacketz @samwilsonsbabymama @jonathan--majors @love-at-all-times @gh0stsp1d3r @inklore @lauranehme (I’m so sorry if I forgot anyone)

Please let me know your thoughts!

Pairing: Kang the Conquer x fem reader

Rating: SMUT! NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Word count: 3500

Warnings: mild spoilers for Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, the reader's life is in danger at the start, mentions of death and dying, one scene could make you a bit queasy if you're afraid of heights, kidnapping, enemies to lovers trope (I guess?), lots of angst, a bit of fluff, the reader is kind of clumsy, slow burn, kissing, some swearing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up in the real world k?), nothing too rough but a little scratching, multiple orgasms, squirting, Kang is a little possessive, everything is consensual

Notes: Kang’s goons have kidnapped you. You don’t really know where they are taking you. You might be in the quantum realm or maybe in another part of the multiverse where Kang has a functioning time ship. You can decide. it’s up to your imagination to fill in the preface. I took some inspiration from ‘What if…?’ as well, you’ll see what I mean. I recommend reading this slowly. It’s a slow burn and Kang’s speech and moments are supposed to be measured and calculated, like in the movie.

You enter an expansive great hall with your head down, led by two soldiers. You aren’t sure if they are humans or machines. Glowing helmets cover their entire heads. You’re terrified to look up and see the man who has summoned you. You overheard the guards who have brought you here refer to him as ‘The Conqueror’

‘There you are.’ A rich, deep voice echoes across the vast room, sending shivers down your spine. One of the guards nudges your side for you to respond to him. You slowly raise your head to look at the man who spoke.

A regal man is slouched back on what looks to be a large chair poised in the center of a huge half-sphere, a massive golden throne. His armoured robes shine in deep shades of emerald and amethyst. He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are down, facing his hand resting on his thigh, while twirling his gloved fingers, unbothered. His legs are spread wide.

He’s beautiful, you think but quickly suppress the thought, but dangerous.

‘Have you nothing to say to me, [Y/N]?’ His booming voice startles you as he stands up and descends from his throne. A deep purple cape cascades behind his massive frame as he begins to walk intently toward you.

‘I—’ you start, but your words leave you as he gets closer. He hovers over you. When your eyes meet, you notice a faint iridescent shimmer coating his dark irises. Two deep scars run parallel down his face. They start from his scalp running directly over his brows and eyelids. They continue down his face like streaks of tears, stopping just above his jaw.

He begins to circle you like a bird of prey, inspecting every inch of you. His heavy steps seem to shake the ground under your feet.

‘Who are you?’ You whisper, ‘How do you know my name? What do you want with me?’

‘You know who I am.’ His speech is elegant and slow with purpose behind each word.

‘I’ve never met you before,’ you answer.

‘Yes, you have,’ he states. ‘We always meet. I always find you, even when I’m not looking for you.’ You furrow your brows in confusion. ‘I am Kang.’ His voice is soft yet firm, warm yet chilling. ‘And you,’ he places his gloved hand on your cheek softly, ‘are my only weakness.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You can’t help but lean into his touch. Something is drawing you to this menacing yet dignified man. Kang, you repeat his name in your mind.  

He sighs, almost bored. ‘Every variant of me, across the multiverse, will fall in love with a version of you.’ Your eyes soften with these words before he drops his hand from your face. ‘But, it always ends with suffering, and it will become my demise.’ His voice becomes colder. ‘The pain of losing you will distract me from my goal, resulting in my defeat. So,’ he pauses to take a step back from you crossing his arms behind his back, ‘I have to kill you.’

‘You what?!’ Your heart races as you look back towards the hallway you were led through. Two faceless guards stand before it. You can’t escape. Thoughts race through your mind. How am I going to get out of this?

‘You can’t kill me if you love me.’ You try to sound stern but your voice cracks in fear.

‘Ah yes, but I do not love you.’ He states, matter-of-factly. ‘Not yet, that is. So, it must be done now before I can let that happen.’

‘Please,’ you beg softly, ‘I don’t want to die.’ You search his face. You should be running from him. You should be fighting for your life. But something inside of you is screaming to be closer to him.

‘Let me show you something,’ he declares before turning and walking back towards the throne and lowering himself into the blue cushions of the seat. He caresses the side of the golden structure before saying, ‘Come. Touch my ship.’

You hesitate but walk forward and reach out your hand. Kang’s eyes are studying your every move. When your hand meets the cool metal, visions flash through your mind.

You can see Kang, his face illuminated by the blue shield of his helmet, his eyes glowing as bright as stars. His scream is full of rage as a massive field of energy shoots out around him, decimating his foes.

You see a silvery line, branching out in multiple directions, starting to fade and wither. The word ‘timeline’ somehow comes to you. Planets turn to dust. People and buildings, frozen in time, seem to be melting upward into the skies.

You see Kang again, on his knees, cradling a lifeless body, sobbing into their chest. The crumbling world around him is fading away to blackness. As you move closer to him, the head of the person he’s holding falls back at the neck. Your own face is staring back at you, lifeless.

You scream and stumble backwards causing you to release your hand from the ship, bringing you back to the throne room. To your surprise, Kang catches you by the waist before you hit the floor.

‘What the hell was that?’ You try to catch your breath.  

‘My ship is neurokinetic. You have just seen into my mind.’ You can feel his warm breath on your neck. He’s holding you close to his chest. ‘Now, do you understand why I must kill you?’

‘Kang,’ you look up at him, pleading with him to reconsider, ‘It doesn’t have to end like this.’ You are surprised to see sadness on his face, tears are welling in his eyes.

Something unexplainable overcomes you and you press your lips into his. He resists, unmoving, unwilling to return your kiss. You shyly pull your lips away from his.

‘No,’ he whispers. He releases his hold on you and turns away. ‘I know what you are doing.’ There is anger in his voice now. ‘You can’t seduce me. I am the all-powerful Kang!’ He puffs his cheeks and blows out quickly in frustration.

He starts pacing the room. His hand is pressed firmly against his lips, furiously pondering. He’s not angry at you as much as he is himself for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. He has been in your presence for several minutes now and he still hasn’t killed you. He should have ended your life the moment you stepped through the doorway. Now he fears it’s too late.

Kang’s eyes are full of fury as strides towards you, stopping only inches away. You’re too scared to move. ‘I promised myself,’ he mutters through gritted teeth. ‘I would never love. Love makes people weak!’ he yells. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath on your face, causing you to flinch.

This is it. This is how I die. You brace yourself for what’s to come. You expect him to strike you down or blast you with the strange energy you saw in the visions. But instead, he pulls you in again and kisses you hard, connecting the two of you with intense magnetism. 

You gasp softly in surprise, which allows your lips to open just enough for his tongue to slip into your mouth. You can taste the saltiness of tears, but you are unsure if they are yours or his. His kiss still lingers on your lips when he stops.

Kang burrows his face into your neck before his hands move gracefully to the base of your shirt to remove it in one quick motion. Your nipples harden as they graze against the cool metal of his armour. He grips your arms and spins you around, so he is standing behind you. You almost trip on your own feet but recover your balance quickly.

Your rational mind is no longer in control of your actions. You're frozen in place, shocked at everything that just happened. You have never felt simultaneously this terrified and aroused.

‘Are— Are you still going to kill me?’ Your voice is so quiet you're not sure if he heard you. You can feel the cool metal of his armoured suit against your exposed back.

‘No. Not today.’ He places his hands on your waist, pressing you into him. ‘But you must know, your life is still very much in danger.’ He starts to unfasten your pants as he speaks. His lips trace your exposed shoulder. ‘You will perish. It will destroy me. This will not have a happy ending.’ His gloved hand slips into your bottoms. ‘Is this what you want?’

‘Yes,’ you reply breathlessly as the leather gloves covering his fingers massage in slow circles on your clit. Your hips rock forward towards his hand.

‘I have come to the realization that our meeting, and your eventual death, is what’s called an ‘absolute point in time,” he carries on, his voice deep and slow in your ear. ‘If I try to avoid you, you will find me. If I try to kill you, I will fail. I cannot stop myself from loving you. It’s written in time itself.’ His breath is warm on the back of your neck.

‘Kang,’ you mewl as he abruptly removes his hand from your pants. The stark absence of his touch between your thighs is torture. You turn around to meet his gaze with lustful eyes. You place a hand on the chest plate of his armour, resenting the barrier between you. His hands travel down your back to your waistband.

He crouches down to remove your pants. You steady yourself by placing a hand on one of his broad shoulders to step out of them. He’s kneeling in front of you now as he tosses your bottoms aside.

He removes his gloves carefully before placing his warm hands on each of your calves, then slowly moves them upward, running them over the back of your knees to your thighs. His movements are painfully slow. You can hear your own heart beating in your ears as the blood rushes to your head.

‘You are mine, for all of time.’ Kang looks up at you with hooded eyes, before placing his lips on the spot that craves him. He pauses there for only a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity, before carefully circling his tongue under his latched lips.

‘I’m yours.’ You repeat as you step your legs further apart and place a hand on the back of his head, pushing his face into your pelvis slightly. He answers your gesture by squeezing the back of your thighs. The pace of his lapping continues, rhythmically.

The vast room is dim, sterile, and empty. Past the throne of his ship, there is a massive wall of glass overlooking Kang’s sprawling empire.

Suddenly, he stops and moves his hands down to just above the back of your knees to pull your legs one at a time onto his wide shoulders. He shifts your weight so his hands are cupped firmly  on your ass for support. You squeal and interlock your fingers around the base of his neck to keep yourself from falling over when he stands up effortlessly. His armour digs sharply into the seat of your thighs.

Kang smirks at you while walking towards the gigantic window with his cape flowing behind him. He then presses you against the glass. You gasp loudly from the feeling of the cold window pressing on the skin of your back. Your palms are splayed, pressing against the glass, giving you leverage.

You glance over your shoulder and the view makes you dizzy. You're suspended 400 feet in the air with just a thin pane of glass and Kang’s incredibly strong arms keeping you from crashing to the ground below. He delves his tongue into your folds again.

‘Oh fuck!’ you blurt out. Your head is spinning from the sensation of Kang’s lips and the precarious position he has you in. Your fingers screech against the glass behind you as you attempt to pull yourself up. He grips you tighter, steadying you. You close your eyes and lean your head back, trying not to think about the height.

‘You really are trying to kill me.’ You tease, letting out a nervous laugh. He doesn’t respond, his mouth is too busy with his current objective.

Almost without warning your orgasm hits you like an electric shock. You fold over resting your forehead on Kang’s scalp, cradling his head. Your body convulses and shakes as a primal moan escapes you.

He lets you down gently, allowing you to find your footing before releasing you. He steps back and wipes your juices from his chin. His lips are puffy and red from the friction.

You realize you're still leaning against the massive window. Panicked, you stumble forward into Kang’s arms. ‘You always were afraid of heights,’ he remarks with a devious smile.

You laugh a little louder than you mean to before you realize something firm is pressing on your stomach, just below your belly button, from under the fabric of Kang’s suit. Your hands start to explore the area, searching for a seam in the green and purple fabric.

‘Allow me.’ Kang turns away from you and walks back toward his throne. You begin to follow him then stop, unable to believe what you are seeing. There he stands, in the center of his chair with his arms stretched out, raised slightly upward. Blue rings whirl around him as his suit and armour start to dematerialize before your wide eyes.

Your jaw drops in awe. He’s built like a fucking god. His body is rippled with enormous muscles. His deep mahogany skin glistened in the fading light of the rings that were surrounding him seconds ago.

He sinks back down lazily into his seat, slouching slightly back, spreading his legs like when you first saw him. He has his elbow resting on his thigh. He lifts his hand, raises his index finger, and motions for you to come to him.

You’re completely stunned by his beauty. A warm feeling grows in your stomach, making it flip and turn.

‘Come to me, beloved,’ Kang coos, drawing out every word.

You walk towards him, his eyes never leaving yours as you climb onto the throne and then into his lap. Your hands run along his sculpted chest and shoulders. His thighs are almost too large for you to straddle him. His abs contract as he shifts his weight, closing his legs slightly to allow you to rest more comfortably. I’m dreaming. This is a dream.

‘Kang?’

‘Yes?’

‘Is this real? Are you real? Are you even human?’ You look down, embarrassed by your childlike questions.

He places a finger under your jaw and lifts your face to meet his smiling at you softly. ‘Reality is not what you think it is,’ he replies. ‘But yes, I am as real as the rays of light that grace your face when you step towards the sun. I am as real as the blades of grass that grow from the soil. And, yes, I am human, like you. I— mmm’

You interrupt him by smashing your lips against his mouth, connecting mostly with his teeth. A small chuckle leaves his throat before he kisses you back.

Kang’s hand cups your breast. He strokes your nipple with his thumb. Goosebumps spread all over your flesh. You reach down and grasp his erection, it’s almost as thick as your own wrist. You let out a soft whimper as you place the head of it against your drenched entrance.

You slowly sink down onto him. He almost doesn’t react, but you can hear him breathe out softly, a quiet sigh of relief. Inch by inch you lower yourself onto him, unsure if you can take his full length. Finally, you bottom out, completely full of him.

He leans back slightly so you can press yourself against him. His dark, shining eyes feel like they are piercing into your soul.

‘My beloved,’ his deep voice breaks the trans-like state you were in ‘are you alright?’

‘Yeah,’ you reply shyly, ‘sorry.’

‘You do not need to apologize.’ His voice is softer than before, ‘Please, take your time. Time is something I have too much of. I’m happy to share some with you.’

Instead of riding up and down, you begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding your clit against his pelvis. He bites the corner of his lip as he watches you with his hands resting on the base of your thighs. It feels like a spiralling spring is coiling up inside you as you pick up speed until it finally releases.

‘I can make this last for what feels like forever,’ Kang whispers in your ear as you collapse, your face falling into the crook of his neck. Your inner walls clench against his cock as you come. ‘Time is irrelevant when you’re with me.’

In one fluid motion, he wraps his massive arms around you and lifts you, only to place you back down on your back against the soft fabric of his chair. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist. He enters you again, causing a low groan escapes your lips as you hold onto him tightly.

He begins to move in and out slowly. You can feel the muscles of his back contract and expand with each movement. He takes the time to grind deep into you with each excruciatingly pleasurable thrust.

Sex with Kang is sex in slow motion. Minutes feel like hours. You want this to last forever. Time seems to stand still as all your senses are heightened. Thrust after thrust, his rhythm is steady and strong, putting eye-rolling pressure on the same spot repeatedly. A fire is burning inside you, unlike anything you’ve felt before.

‘Kang!’ Your nails scrape against his back. He lifts himself up slightly to look you in the eyes.

‘Let it out, [Y/N]’ he growls with a drawl in his voice you haven’t heard before. ‘When you are ready, so am I.’

An explosion of pleasure rips through your body causing you to scream. Kang clenches his face but keeps his pace until you feel like you’re going to lose consciousness. A warm gush of clear liquid shoots out of you, soiling the blue upholstery of the seat under you.

Kang collapses on top of you, his body glistening with sweat. His breathing is heavily in your ear. Every muscle of his body twitches and spasms as he spills into you.

You both lay in each other’s arms for a moment, panting. Kang lifts himself off you and offers you his hand to help you up. With your hand in his, he says, ‘So, where would you like to go first, my beloved?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We have all of time, across the multiverse, to explore. I can share it all with you, [Y/N].’ He raises his brows, waiting for an answer.

‘But I thought you said I was going to… die?’

‘You will. We all will die, in time.’ There is a blueish shimmer dancing over his dark eyes. 'But I will do everything in my power to prevent it. Until then, we have a multiverse to conquer.'

hairy chests. you agree. reblog

Bob Floyd is a pleasure dom btw

🌵 Spencer having a breeding kink

this is making me feral

🌵smut headcacons: send me a character and a steamy scenario/situation and I’ll write how they would react/what they would do (short headcanons)

NSFW under the cut

Check out my 400 follower celebration

Spencer having a breeding kink

i can just imagine it

it starts with a night of babysitting

a friendly gesture for jj bc she wanted a night out with will

the majority of the night is just sweet

just two giggly boys and their godparents having a night together

and then spencer walks in to see lil baby michael perked on your hip

and his brain, for once, absolutely stills at the sight

then its just flooded with images of you

you, pregnant with his kid

you, round and MATERNAL

and they just go straight to his dick

so when the kids finally go to bed, and jj and will are just 20 minutes away

it takes everything in his body to not take you right then and there

doesn't stop him from keeping his hands on you

intentional touches against your legs, fingers grazing your thighs

you give him a knowing, but confused look bc you can only imagine where this is going

and when he asks "do you ever think about having kids"

you know then

you make a joke about him being a *horn dog* bc we all know he is

and tell him he has to wait until you get home

and WHEN YOU GET HOME

good lord

that man has you bent over the nearest surface immediately

you barely have time to think between his words and his actions

"fuck baby don't you want me to just fill you up"

"can't wait until you full of me, my kid"

"gonna let me cum inside aren't you baby, I can feel how deep i am"

... no words...

his hands are all over you as he's pumping into you, to your breasts, down across your belly

and he WILL give you fun facts about how they'll grow and swell

and when he does

oh when he does cum inside

he'll stay right there to make sure it doesnt go to waste, and whatever does?

he'll just use his fingers and push it in, right next to his cock