#adam is a bottom

[niafromheaven]

Hmmmm, me actually writing decent Guitarspear smut? Shocking! Crazy! Wild!

Bottom Adam hehe

WARNING:VERY KINKY. Pain kink, pegging, praise kink but not a lot tbh.

[uncensoredmuttz]

yeah, puppy subs are cute, but what about big, dominant, feral dog tops? men who can easily pin you down due to their strength. men who pant heavily into your ear, their hot breath running down your neck as they pound inside of you. men who growl and grunt and howl. what about that, huh?

[dirtgrubber]

radioapple but it’s that one seinfeld meme

[sillylittleguy86]

this shot kills me every time 💔💔💔

[aluciahaz]

One bed trope with Adam except we wake up in the middle of night feeling him unconsciously grinding his hard-on against us and we take it into our hands (literally) to help him🫣

( he wakes up before we actually do anything so it’s all consensual ofc.. )

🦅🦅LETS FUCKIBG GOO🦅🦅 i love (babying) this dumb bitch!!! this is kinda more ooc adam but i hope you still like it !

truth prevails

—adam x gn!reader

—tags : handjob, bottom adam, dom!reader, absolute overuse of the nickname baby and baby boy 😭

what a fucking wake up call.

you really should’ve just made adam sleep on the couch.

honestly, you aren’t even that surprised that he was grinding against you while asleep, murmuring your name in a soft voice. it was quite nice actually, compared to his usually brash one.

especially his whimpers.

“lemme cum...please-fuck….” his head would nuzzle further into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his hips kept bucking up. so he was in that type of mood, huh?

well… then maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his fantasies for a just little bit. after all, it was hard to get him to bottom without him throwing a tantrum. which, of course would just lead him to get wrecked, just the way he liked it.

“adam.”

“mm…mhm?” his eyes slowly open, his arms still around your waist as you turn around to look at him. his confused expression is almost cute in a way, although a bit disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face.

“what were you dreaming about, baby?” you ask, a smirk forming on your lips as you stroke his hair, running your fingers through his coarse strands. your other hand snakes around to his hip, teasing his waistband just slightly.

adam, now shocked, looks at you with an almost abashed expression before clearing his throat, going back to his egotistical persona.

“uh, psh, fucking you, duh,”

well, at least he was honest. somewhat.

“and begging for me to let you cum?” you ask bluntly, raising your eyebrow at him as you chuckle. his mien was what you could on describe as flabbergasted. it was clear he had no idea what he was doing to you just a few minutes ago.

clueless, cute, baby.

you coo at him, the hand on his hair moving down underneath his chin as you cup it gently. still sleepy, instead of pulling away with a scoff like usual, he leans into it, letting his instincts take over.

“how would you know?” he says with a grin, clearly doubtful, yet the anxious twitch of his smile shows that he was less relaxed than he portrayed himself to be.

“you talk in your sleep.”

“…” he stares at you for a few seconds before laughing nervously.

“nooooo…?”

the deadpan expression on your face says it all. so much so it makes him feel way too awkward, forcing him to retract his statement.

“…sorry.”

“i don’t know why you try even and lie when you’re so bad at it.”

he frowns at you, furrowing his eyebrows.

“whatever! are you gonna do something about my hard-on or keep making digs at me?”

“i could always do both.”

the smirk on your face widens as your hand slips past his waistband, your hands tracing his v-line ever so delicately, your touch light as an angel’s feather.

“you just have to say please.”

“fuck you.”

“not today, honey,”

adam just rolls his eyes, grumbling as he ponders on what to do. that’s not good, he isn’t made to think.

quickly, your hand under his chin places a finger on his bottom lip, just barely tipping over to make its way inside of his mouth to distract him.

“come on, baby. don’t you want to be a good boy for me?” you kiss his neck, gentle and sweet like a divine’s touch. “just think about how nice it would be to let everything go, let me take care of you. my perfect, little angel.”

he stifles a moan, but with how close the two of you were, you could hear it clear as day. usually, it would take way longer to get him in such a state, but apparently the tedious process was 2 times faster when he was sleepy.

clearly this means you should do this more often.

"...please-ah!"

he can't even finish his sentence before your hand wraps around his cock, stroking it in nice, slow movements as you whisper in his ear. "good boy!" you praise, your fingers leaving his lips and slipping underneath his light shirt. with the tips of your fingers, you pull and twist at his sensitive buds, reveling in his sweet whimpers and cries as his chest jerks up into your hand.

"tell me what you really dreamt of, baby. were you all pliant underneath my hand? maybe even getting fucked by me? tell me truth."

all he can do is whine as his legs quiver, digging his head further into the crook of your neck as he pants. his wings start to flap a little against the bed, and only from a few touches.

"okay okay! i—yeah," he tried gulped away his embarrassment, but the heat on his face was a clear indicator of his nervousness. "you—you fucked me and told me all these-these stupid little compliments-yes, oh—!"

you laugh as you he bucks his hips into your grip, trying to chase more pleasure before pulling away, deaf to the groan of annoyance coming from the man.

"don't get greedy, baby boy." you chide, shaking your head in disapproval. "take what you get, nothing more, and maybe you'll get a reward!" you say, kissing his cheek sweetly in contrast to your cruel command.

"oh—oh, okay! oka—ayy!" he mewls shakily, clawing at your waist as he tries to stop his hips from moving. surprisingly, he does quite well, letting you take control of the pace with only a few jerks up into your fist. but, you decide to let it go, after all, adam was being sweeter than usual.

"alright, alright, you can move now, baby. you did so good for me."

"yes! finally—ngh! fuck—thank you...!" he cries, moving his hips quickly into your grasp as he finds himself getting lost in his own pleasure.

you didn't even need to remind him to be grateful, how polite! he's learning!

he wails your name like a weeping sinner, hoping that you'd grace him with your love and mercy.

which, of course you would. for once, he's earned it without much push at all! perhaps this would set as an example on what he should do next time instead of being a brat all the time.

"cum for me, my love. you deserve it," you croon, moving your fist faster and faster with his pace. the hand on his chest presses harder onto his nipple, twisting the way you know he loves—as much as he denies he's a masochist, you know by the way he keens that he's just being proud—and let him keep babbling about anything that comes to his muddled little mind. yeah, you'll bless him just this once.

"i love you, love—love you, i love—ah—ah!"

adam sobs shamelessly as he reaches his climax, his hips stuttering as he slowly returns from his high. his whole body goes limp as he shuts his eyes, his hands falling from your waist as he steadies his breathing.

you wipe the tears away from his eyes, peppering his face with kisses.

“see? this is what you get for being good.”

“mm..mmmhm,” adam hums mindlessly before falling into silence. strange, he was usually big on pillow talk—

you hear a soft snore coming from beneath you, slow breaths loud amongst the quietude of your shared bedroom.

…seems like your baby boy fell asleep.

a/n - please someone request like a mommy/daddy kink for any of the goobers i write for i am INSPIRED rn im opening my reqs rn 😭

tags : @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[dominantslasherking]

The Butcher aka Cooper With Dominant Male S/o

Authors note: This Dilf is so fine...from the new movie "Trap".

Backstory: Seems like the serial killer the butcher is a big fan of you, a famous horror and thriller writer, who just so happens to be at the concert he was attending...He can't take his eyes off of you.

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

The thumping beat of the concert reverberated through the venue as Cooper Adams walked alongside his daughter, Riley, navigating through the crowds and masses of overly loud fans. The flashing lights and excited murmurs of the fans around them only made his steps quicken as he held his daughters hand giving Riley a small smile as he rushed through. He wasn’t particularly interested in the music, but this concert meant the world to Riley.

Still, something more exhilarating had caught his attention tonight—something far more important than the performer they had come to see, Riley had some fun, it was his turn, finally something that was worth while.

As they neared the merchandise stands, Cooper’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted the familiar logo of his favorite author—your logo.

A large banner of your name, [Your Name], hung proudly over a stand dedicated entirely to limited-edition merch from your latest horror novels. A wave of excitement surged through him. You were his obsession, his secret desire. Not only were you a celebrated horror and thriller writer, but you embodied everything that twisted his mind into dangerous knots.

Every dark corner of his soul came alive when he thought of you, admired you, studied you, his smile suddenly widened, Riley just akwardly looked at her father, giving a tilt to her head as she observed her father, not thinking much of it.

Cooper's stomach tightened with frustration when he noticed that the signing event had already ended. A young woman at the front of the stand, practically bouncing on her feet, was showing off her signed copy of your latest release to anyone who would listen. "I can’t believe I got his autograph! He’s even more handsome in person," she squealed, the fan was dripped in head to toe of yor merch, as she just gushed, showed off, what she had got.

Cooper’s fingers twitched, clenching into fists in his jacket pockets. His jaw set tight as jealousy simmered under his skin. That woman had your attention—even for a fleeting moment. He hated the idea of anyone having a piece of you that wasn’t his.

With a nonchalant glance toward his daughter; who was now scrolling mindlessly on her phone, Cooper let his foot slide out just enough for the gushing fan to trip.

The fan-girl stumbled, her body crashing into the merch stand. She hit the edge with a sickening thud, her head knocking against the hard surface, and a thin stream of blood began to trickle down her forehead.

People gasped and rushed to her aid some yelling out for help while others urgent to fingure out what happened. but Cooper’s expression remained impassive. He leaned down toward Riley, his voice soft and controlled. "We should go," he said calmly his hand suddenly snatching a keychain of one of the killers in one of your most famous novels. "The singer’s about to start."

Riley nodded, oblivious to the chaos Cooper her father had just caused. They left the scene behind, and Cooper took a steadying breath. Hurting the girl had been easy—too easy—but the satisfaction of it didn’t last long.

His thoughts were already spiraling back to you. He couldn’t stop wondering where you might be right now. Were you still here at the concert? Were you watching the performance like any other fan? Would you even notice him? The chances of that were unlikely, you probably left already. "You okay dad?" Riley piped up finally looking up from her phone, "Yeah kiddo, just your dad being a fan..." Cooper said giving his daughter a fake smile,she just nodded. "Yeah, I'm so excited to hear 'The Crow' singing, obviously he's not as good as Lady Raven but, he's my second fav." Riley had gushed with a big smile on her face. --- --- Meanwhile, seated in the far rows of the concert hall, you leaned back in your chair, trying to stay out of sight. A few fans had already recognized you and asked for autographs, but now your focus was on the performance. The lights on stage dimmed, and the crowd roared in excitement as The Crow was about to appear. You had come here as a brief escape from your writing, but a part of you enjoyed watching the excitement build, the way the energy of a crowd swelled in anticipation.

As the first chords of the music played, you felt the eyes of onlookers on you. Some discreet, others more obvious, but nothing that grabbed your attention for long—

Cooper Adams, accompanied by his daughter, found his seat a few rows away from you. But something in the way he carried himself caught your attention. You had no idea that this unassuming suburban dad, who appeared so attentive to his daughter, was secretly one of your biggest fans and a very famous murderer. Or that beneath that calm, composed exterior, Cooper’s mind was swirling with fantasies—dangerous, obsessive fantasies.

As his gaze swept the crowd, his eyes landed on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The flashing lights, the noise of the concert, even his daughter—it all faded as Cooper’s breath caught in his throat. You were still here. He hadn’t missed his chance after all.

His chest tightened, his heart pounding as thoughts of submission briefly flickered in his mind. Cooper clenched his jaw, pushing those thoughts away. No, he thought, mentally berating himself. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t some needy fool, desperate for your attention—except he was ready to kneel down open his mouth and!!---. His hands trembled as he tried to keep his composure, but every part of him ached to be noticed by you. He wanted you to see him, to acknowledge him, maybe even more than that.

'Control yourself', Cooper, he chastised in his mind. 'You’re not the kind of man to submit. You're the one in charge, the one who dominates.' Yet no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the thoughts of giving in to you—of letting you have power over him—kept creeping in, no matter how much he hated it. He stood next to his daughter, Riley, who was singing, jumping, dancing along to the music, lost in the excitement of the moment.

But Cooper’s mind wasn’t on the singer or the performance. It was on you—the man sitting just a few rows away, your sharp, smoky eyes fixed on the stage, oblivious to the man obsessing over you, a few feet from you. Cooper couldn’t help but stare. His heart hammered in his chest, and a thrill coursed through his veins as he took you in. The famous horror and thriller writer, [Your Name], in the flesh—right there. Every twisted story you’d ever written had fueled his darkest desires fuck he even jerked off to a few, and now you were close enough that he could almost reach out and touch you. He drank in every detail of you: the way you sat, the confident set of your jaw, the subtle intensity in your expression as you watched the concert.

And then, it happened. Your eyes shifted, tilting just slightly in his direction, as though you could feel his gaze drilling into you. Cooper’s breath hitched in his throat when your sharp eyes locked with his. For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze around him. You were staring right back at him.

His pulse quickened, a hot surge of excitement coursing through him as a tightening sensation began to build in his pants. There was something primal, predatory, about the way your gaze lingered on him, as if you were sizing him up. It sent a shiver down his spine, a thrill he hadn’t felt in ages (Course he would feel some type of feeling with his kills but none like this). He could barely contain the flood of emotions rushing through him—admiration, obsession, lust.

He shifted his attention briefly to Riley, who was still lost in the performance, her attention fully on the stage. Cooper cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain casual. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart,” he said, a little too quickly.

Riley waved him off without a second glance, too absorbed in the music to care as she went back to dancing and jumpin.

This was the opening Cooper had been waiting for. He smoothed his jacket, trying to appear composed, but the surge of adrenaline racing through him told a different story. 'This is it,' he thought, 'I’m going to meet him.' Stretching lips into a smile. As Cooper made his way through the crowd, each step felt heavier, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts. A part of him felt ridiculous—'What am I doing?'—but the other part, the darker side, was elated. This was his chance. His fantasies about you had been building for years, and now, finally, he was going to be face to face with the man who consumed his every waking thought.

When he finally stood before you, his breath hitched again. Up close, you were even more striking—confident, aloof, as if you were completely aware of the effect you had on others but didn’t care.

You looked at him, amusement flickering across your face, your sharp gaze studying him like you were dissecting a character in one of your novels.

“Big fan, huh?” Your voice was smooth, low, teasing. It sent a jolt through Cooper, making him feel exposed, vulnerable, and that made him hate the feeling. But at the same time, he wanted more of it. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to suppress the sudden urge to submit—to give in to the pull you had over him.

“I—yeah,” Cooper stammered, feeling heat creep up his neck as he spoke. He cleared his throat, trying to recover. “I’ve been following your work for years.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh? For years?” You leaned back in your seat, eyeing him up and down, your gaze lingering on his well-built frame. Cooper could feel your eyes raking over him, and for a moment, he felt like he was one of your characters—trapped under the scrutiny of a killer, waiting for his fate. He shifted on his feet, the thrill mixing with a tinge of nervousness.

“You don’t strike me as a horror fan,” you continued, your tone teasing, like you were already playing a game Cooper didn’t fully understand yet. “Most dads like you are into, I don’t know, football or action movies.” Your gaze lingered a little too long on his broad chest and strong arms, making it clear you noticed his physique. “But you… you’re different, aren’t you?” The husky voice of your whispered into his ear, as it was really hard to hear over all the fans screaming.

Cooper swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. The way you spoke, the way you looked at him—it was making it difficult for him to think straight. His mind flashed with images of giving in, of submitting to you, of being at your mercy, but he quickly shoved those thoughts away. 'No,' he told himself. 'You’re in control, Cooper.'

But that didn’t stop his pulse from quickening, or the heat spreading through his body as he stood before you, trying to come up with something, anything, to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete fool.

“I’ve always appreciated the darker side of things,” Cooper finally managed, his voice steadier now. “Your work—it resonates with me.” He said his body slightly leaning to also whisper into your ear. His eyes flicked down briefly before meeting yours again, the primal intensity in your gaze still making his heart race.

You chuckled softly, leaning in slightly. “Is that so? Well, let’s hope you don’t resonate too much with the killers in my stories.” The teasing edge in your voice was unmistakable, but there was something more behind it—something intrigued. You could tell this wasn’t just another fan. There was something off about Cooper, something familiar, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet.

Cooper felt a surge of both excitement and unease. He was standing in front of the man who had unknowingly shaped his darkest fantasies, and now he was being teased by him. It was everything Cooper had ever wanted, and yet it was terrifying. His thoughts began to spiral again—submissive urges flickering at the edges of his mind—but he quickly shoved them aside. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t here to submit.

But the way you looked at him… God, it made him question everything. fuck, he's getting hard again.

[turnipoddity]

Where can I find that bottom Lawrence content? For educational purposes...

here i’ll make you bottom/sub lawrence masterpost

Adam is the one smoking (suggestive)

Kis kis fall inlove

This vision came to me in a dream (mild nsfw)

If drawing flustered Lawrence was a sport (mild nsfw)

Priest Lawrence being a simp (suggestive)

Photograph (suggestive)

Doctor’s orders (nsfw)

Priest Lawrence (nsfw)

Supermassive blackhole

Last saw scribbles of the day

Whew (suggestive)

[emily-mooon]

Scott Pilgrim Characters as Text Posts but they’re mostly of Stacey and Neil cause I’m obsessed with them :]

[mintaikk]

Adam: "You'll have to go to Hell, where the demons.will FUCK you!"

St. Peter:

Sera: 😐

Sera: "And they make you shave your head!"

St. Peter: "BUT MY HAIR DEFINES ME-"

[dinkandballz]

I already sent in a request but like uhm you said to send another because you might not have seen the one I sent so uhm uhm I was wondering if you could do uhm Adam with a s/o headcanons (sfw or nsfw or both whatever you want) and uhm that's uh all

YES!!! ABSOLUTELY!! Sorry this is late pookie 😮‍💨

SFW

Adam is a picky asshole

He never shies away from the truth around you, so expect to be insulted A LOT

More than that, he speaks through his actions better than he does with his words

He’s a cuddle bug with no sense of personal space. If you’re close by, his face is in your neck immediately

Angel anatomy can be confusing, but he’s often preening his feathers when he thinks you aren’t watching

His halo is very sensitive, so be careful not to knock it or touch it without warning, otherwise he gives you the silent treatment

He likes to pretend he’s a big, tough man, but really he’s more suited for a malewife role

He hates admitting it, but he loves to cook as much as he loves to eat, and seeing you enjoy his food makes his heart so happy

He’s just a sweetie pie with some bad ideas engraved into his brain, but you can work with him to get out of that mindset over time

Lots and lots of time.

Hopefully you’re also an angel, because it might take a few hundred years to convince him to stop being such a dick 😭

(NSFW below the cut)

NSFW

He’s a brat

At least, at first he’s a brat

He hates being told what to do, he never listens to your instructions, in bed or otherwise, and purposefully makes a fuss whenever possible

But if you bribe him with praise and rewards, he learns to simmer down and listen

In order to even approach his ass, he needs sexual favours frequently

He loves oral, giving and receiving (receiving mostly, at first) and you can work your way up (down) from there

He surprisingly enjoys being eaten out, and he’s shocked to find out he can reach orgasm from only your tongue teasing his prostate

And when you fuck him for the first time, he insists on hiding his face from you, because he knows you’ll tease him if you see him drooling into his pillow

He can’t get enough of you after the first time, he’s already addicted (pun intended!)

He’s a good boy when he wants to be, patient in your arms as you tease him with just the tip

He doesn’t beg, he’s too embarrassed to at first, so he’s delighted when you finally bottom out

Your teasing gets him embarrassingly hard on occasion, too

He’s willing to try anything once, even if he thinks the humiliation will kill him, he wants to be good for you and please you

[n1ghtm4r3-p01s0n]

Enjoy a chainship meme.

[gastrobrack]

i had a transgender experience in the saw bathroom and all i got was this t shirt

[uncensoredmuttz]

i am such a dumb puppy that i can’t even get off by myself anymore. i need some to guide me through it – tell me exactly how and where to touch myself. start by making me tease myself, then finally giving me the relief of being able to touch by tdick, slowly at first, then gradually instructing me to increase the pace. eventually instructing me to add a finger or two (or more, it’s their choice, after all). they’ll turn me into such a mindless little pupslut. once i’m almost as my release, they say, “i haven’t given you permission to cum yet,” and force me to edge over and over again… i’m such an obedient pup that i just keep following their instructions, touching myself, but not cumming until they tell me to.

(this is an invitation for dms & asks too btw)

[libby-for-life]

I get this general vibe from Adam and Lucifer. Especially since I'm a sucker for Lucifer picking up Adam easily.

I have a vision—

[aluciahaz]

Sub Adam who had been a brat all day and reader punishes him by edging him and making him beg for forgiveness 🙏🏻

he would try so hard to not give in but once he does it's nothing but sobs and whimpers, begging his mommy to let him cum and to call him a good boy<33

LETS GO!! i have to admit this is super long, sorry!! i feel like my fics keep getting longer and longer cause i just start throwing a shit ton of metaphors for no reason 💀💀 im trying to work on shortening them!!

burns good

—adam x gn!reader (reader’s gender not specified but term mommy is used)

—includes: mommy kink, crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

“come on just—stop, ngh! stop fucking with me-EE!” he jolts as you touch his cock again with your feathery touch before writhing against the ropes that bind him to his chair.

it’s been an hour of this. and although his words may be sharp, you can tell he’s losing his edge.

“maybe if you used your manners, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” you spit out, grabbing his face roughly to force him to look up at you, fire still behind his eyes.

you’ll extinguish it soon enough.

“why would i need to? i’m a legend—AH! ha, fuck!” he shouts as a quick slap from your hand stings his inner thigh, making him shiver in pain, but his flushed face shows his true emotions.

“you’re a slut, that’s what you are,” you say with venom, and the shudder through his body showed that your words ran through his veins like fast poison. he gazes up at you in almost awed disbelief, unable to respond with a witty response.

“you love it when i treat you like this, huh? is that why you act out all the time? acting like an asshole just so i can put you in your place? answer me.” you seethe, your fingers digging into his legs until they bruise.

his bites his lip, not wanting to confess the truth. but he can’t lie. not when you’ve got him cornered like this.

“maybe—NGH! fine! okay—yes—i do it on purpose for you to—fuck—to do this shit to me! happy?” he admits, his back arching as you touch his cock once more, teasing adam with the finish line that’s so far away.

“good boy. see? that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” you see his hips try and buck up from his seat and quickly move your hand away, enjoying the pathetic whine of aggravation from him.

“now all you need to do is say it nicer! come on, you can do it,” you say, smirking at his hesitation. but his uncertainty wasn’t due to your patronizing tone, no. he wasn’t collected enough to catch onto that.

it was the subtle praise. the encouragement. he did something right, he’s getting your attention. good attention.

it makes his head swivel in delight, and even though he’s reluctant to follow through with your request—his pride was on the line!—he opens his trembling lips, his shaky voice conveying a lovely message.

“i act out so you…you can punish me, and—hnn—so you can drive me crazy, i—i…” he takes in a deep breath as you watch him intently, smiling at his confession. it only spurs him on more.

“i need it, please—mommy, please!” he begs weakly, yet his eyes scream for your help. they shine with tears from overstimulation, but what’s more noticeable is the pitiful desperation in his look that overrides his crying.

you can’t help but want more. he was pretty rude this week.

“please what? use your words, baby,” you coo, watching him battle between his ego and desires. his small whimpers as he tried to figure out what to do were adorable, but soon, he looks straight up at you, the victor clear.

“please let me cum!” he begs, his voice crawling into a high-pitched whine. it’s desperate, it’s sweet, and it only makes you want to play with him more.

“oh, but…baby, you don’t deserve it.”

those words were enough to make him wail and shake in his seat, but the feeling of your breath right against his ear and your harsh punishment sent him flying into a true spiral of delirium.

“nononono PLEASE! i’ll be good i’ll—hic—be…” his arms push against the binds frantically, trying to break out of them to just do something. anything.

for a few seconds.

“AH! hm—ngh! fuckfuck—!” adam’s voice is almost non-existent with half of his words filled with the raspiness of pain and the airiness from unrequited yearnings as another lash runs against his leg, red blooming on his skin.

god, he wanted you so bad. he wanted you to touch him, to make him feel special, to just let him cum after what seems like decades. he needed you to help him because even without these ropes, he knew he would never be fully satisfied without your hands on his skin.

but he had to serve penance for his actions. no matter how sweet he wailed, no matter how much he writhed, he had broken a covenant of sorts between him and you. and he had to learn that yes, his unruliness will not be tolerated, even if he begs—

sorry is not enough.

so you keep getting him close to the gates of heaven, only for him to fall back down from seeing stars. each time, he would cry without fail, and each time, his attitude would crumble.

now, there is no hesitation when he pleads for mercy, there is no question as to whether he should follow what you say, and there are no thoughts of defiance corrupting his mind. he was as unchastely pure as one could be, following every sinful demand you say.

you call him all sorts of things. slut, whore, pathetic, giving him whiplash from how kind you were earlier. it makes him cry earnestly, just wanting any semblance of praise to feed off of; to taste the sweetness of love that danced between your words

“i need it—hic—i—please, please be nice to me! m-mommy, mm! i’m so sorry! imsosorryplease, i’ll be a good boy—please, stop being so mean!” he sobs, shaking in his chair as you refrain from giving him what he wants.

adam’s voice quivers, and his breath hastens. his eyes are lidded like he’s inebriated, and he is. he’s drunk off of your words, your demeaning, cruel, vicious words, and they only motivate him more to beg for your forgiveness like a sinner at church.

when you speak again, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, the thorns of your piercing words completely burning away with the warmth of your blessing.

“you’ve been so nice to me for quite some time. perhaps you can be good after all,” you observe with a hum, watching his eyes sparkle with excitement.

“yes—yes i can!” he says frantically, trying to persuade you to do something more. to let his head soar into the clouds and get dizzy from the height.

there was a brief moment of pause as you pondered if you should give in to his pleas, but considering it has been a while, you don’t mind handing him a brief blessing. one that will slowly grow further and further, his brain distorted by the constant pleasure that you put upon him. until he cries and says he can’t cum anymore, and the overstimulation was making everything feel too much.

too good. too perfect. perhaps heaven was overrated when things like this existed. when you existed with your perfect hands running over his body, kissing his neck with delicacy and following it up with bites filled with carnal pleasure.

it was a thought that’s crossed his mind plenty of times. well, when he’s able to think. as you let him cum, your fingers now around his cock as he thrashes in his ropes, screaming and wailing as you keep moving your hand, his legs trembling as you ruin him so well.

“w-wait! wait too much—ngh—fuck! mommy, please!” he squeaks, his whole body shuddering with his sobs as he tries to collect himself somehow, but he can’t fight this sensory overload. not even with the experience of being the first man.

there’s a certain feeling burning inside of him. like a flame that was comfortably warm, yet was flickering too high out of the fireplace, signaling danger. but he can’t stop getting closer, even if it melts his ability to think in the process. the burn of lust was just too good.

he didn’t even try to fight the fire, not even caring about his appearance as he begs for you to both stop and keep going, unsure of which poison to drink from.

yet, as he was engulfed in the divine flames of your sinful blessing, he couldn’t help but feel a bit happy as he sniveled, his tears glistening against his skin. you were giving him so much attention. it didn’t matter that the pleasure was intertwined with pain, it was just a more direct sign that you had all your focus on him, and that’s all he ever wanted.

“ngh..i can’t—i c..can’t…” he says weakly, his voice practically fading into nothingness. at some point, his position changed to him lying down on the bed, still completely tied from limb to limb. but you thought that after cumming for the third time, he deserved a more comfortable environment for the rest of the night in order to soften the cruelty of your hands.

and although his voice is cracking at the seams, and his body is at your complete mercy, the mere action of you having him moved to the bed made his heart swell. it was that slight affection that made the sting on his thighs feel so nice, the almost overbearing heat of your body over his feel so loving.

“you’re doing so well. come on, just one more for me, baby,” those words were the sweetest things in the world. it made every red mark and each brutal remark worth it.

“mmn…okay—AH! mommy!” he keened, weeping as his legs jolted up just barely, too weak to even react properly as your fingers delved inside of him, quickly finding the spot that made him shiver all over.

“so—so much! i feel—i can’t—!” his eyes shut tightly as he cries, unable to put his thoughts into words. but you’ve been here time and time before, his words aren’t necessary to understand what he’s thinking.

he begs with his tears, says ‘i love you’ with the arch in his back, and screams that he wants to cum against all odds with the dazed look on his face, his eyes slowly opening to show a man who’s lost the inability to speak with words, but fluent in the language of bliss.

as he cums with a silent scream, barely anything coming out of his used cock, you watch as his eyes run to the back of his head. you watch how his whole body stiffens in a single moment before becoming limp, pleading for you to take care of it.

you can’t help but oblige, gently removing the ropes that bind him, kissing each angry imprint of love on his body, and whispering words of well-earned praise to your angel.

adam can’t cry anymore, yet if he could, he would, as being overwhelmed with love and care was just as intense as drowning in lust and desire.

he feels so vulnerable, yet he enjoys it wholeheartedly. it allowed him to get pampered like some sort of royalty. perhaps he should start doing this more just to get treated like this.

but when he suggests for you to call him ‘king’ the next day you put him back in his place, rolling your eyes in annoyance. he never learns, but he doesn’t want to. your lessons felt so good after all. why would he want them to stop?

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

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