#is there dubious bondage? also yeah of course

[foulbearobservation]

the avalil smut is funny because you all think it's like. regular level filthy but I have to live with the knowledge that it's much, much worse, actually.

[thegrandlinesimp]

Day 1 & 3: Bondage & 'S&M' by Rhianna

A/N: For the @kidlawevents "Bottom Eustass Kid Week", they said all pairings are welcome, so long as Kid is on the bottom, and of course I couldn't pass up the opportunity for more Kid/Killer. I will be posting these weekly every Sunday, I have four more lined up and the last one (free day) is still being written.

Warnings: Bondage (shibari), collaring, flail usage, nipple clamps, cock cage, orgasm denial, Kid struggling to submit but really wanting to so it seems dubious but really isn't, Killer being posessive (if I missed anything let me know)

The Kid Pirates were well aware that their Captain and Vice Captain were in a relationship, though when they found out some had thrown incredibly unsavoury slurs at the same sex couple. Needless to say, those men had long since been fish food after the incident. They knew the two slept together, though it didn’t affect the crew in anyway, if anything it made the commanding duo stronger for it, able to read one another with but a glance. The strength of their near life long bond was part of the reason the crew had made it all the way to the New World.

It was also that very same bond that made them rush to Killer whenever their Captain was in the throws of absolute rage.

Kid had tossed a crew member overboard for a minor accident, it was common, so no one ran to the man’s rescue as he heaved himself back onboard. Heads did rise, however, when Kid promptly kicked the man off the railing he was half slung over, sending him back into the sea.

He was seeing red, entire body tense, wanting to scream at the world, wanting to crush the nearest skull in. Hatred and pain twisted in his heart, wounds of old traumas reopened, the new stump of his arm aching, a sickening reminder of failure. Kid went to kick the man off the ship a second time, some of his crew holding him back even as he dragged them forward with each step, pathetic attempts at keeping the beast at bay. They all suddenly scurried away, and Kid was about to take the opportunity to charge, when two thick arms wrapped around his waist and hurled him off his feet. Kid roared with rage, thrashing and kicking back.

“Captain!”

His teeth clenched, body tensing, breath coming out in ragged pants.

Killer put him down, shoving him so his back slammed into the central mast as crew members rushed forward to help their crew mate up. He could feel the rage rolling off of Killer, eyes - hidden by the striped mask - burning holes into his skin.

“You,” Killer paused, taking a few ragged breaths of his own, “need a reset.”

Kid’s heart clenched as he looked away, shame muffling the pain and hatred coiled in his chest.

He needed to be better, a better Captain, yet he wasn’t strong enough to chase his demons away.

But Killer was.

****

Kid found himself in the same position after dinner, but instead of the mast, his back was pressed against the wall beside the locked cabin door. Killer’s lips worked at his throat as the redhead gnashed his teeth, lips peeled back in an animalistic snarl. He would always fight it, deep in a mindset that he didn’t need anyone’s help, least of all Killer’s. Yet the fingers curled through his hair tightened, his greatest weakness, sending a light shot of pain filled pleasure straight down his spine to his legs. It was usually at this point he began to submit like he wanted to, deep down, but the moment he felt his knees grow weak he thrashed in the blonde’s hold.

“Kid!” Killer pinned him to the wall, hard, glaring at him, “Deep breaths.”

“Fuck off!”

His first mate paused, grip slackening for a second, confused, “You…don’t want my help?”

“I…” he did, he needed it, needed Killer to help set him right, to help him fly, “…all of it.”

“…What?”

“I…” Kid grit his teeth, “I…need…all of it.”

Killer’s grip tightened again, though it was more out of shock than necessity, “…Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” his body relaxed, ever so slightly, as he looked away, “it’s…I-I need…”

Fingers curled through his hair again, tugging gently, “Alright, Captain, let me take care of you.”

After that it was a vague blur of clothes flying, lips meeting so hard that teeth knocked together. Kid was down to his boxers by the time they stumbled to the bed, Killer shoving him down and straddling him.

“Blindfold first, or last?”

Kid didn’t even have to think on that one, “First.”

Everything was already on the bed as usual, Killer always put away whatever wasn’t needed in the end, but tonight was the first time he wouldn’t have to. He reached for the silky red blindfold, Kid tensing and glaring at him on instinct as Killer went place it over his eyes.

“…Colour?”

“Green,” he huffed with a sneer.

He needed this, wanted this, but the walls around his heart and mind betrayed that, closing him off from the ones he cared about. He needed Killer to break those walls, to break him, so completely and utterly, only to build him back up again into the man he was proud to be, not this wild beast that would so freely hurt his loved ones.

The cloth went over his eyes, breath stuttering as it was tied behind his head, heart fluttering briefly with affection when Killer pulled strands of hair loose. Then, for a moment, there was nothing. Silence, peace, save for the waves rolling the ship and the beat of his heart in his ears. His body was still tense, yet his mind was already drifting, relaxing. Killer shifted, climbing off his lap, breaking the light, serene peace, and all of Kid’s mental and emotional defences threw themselves back up once more as he lay there, teeth bared like a wild animal.

Calloused fingers ran down his sides and he growled through clenched teeth, struggling to resist the urge to kick out, knowing it was Killer touching him. His boxers were pulled down, breath stuttering as his cock met the cold night air.

His heart skipped a beat at the rattling of chains, the fingers of his one hand curling tight into the sheets. It took all his willpower to not hunch his shoulders, instead tilting his head back as he half sat up.

“Good boy,” Killer whispered as he fastened the spiked, red collar around his neck.

There was a soft tug on the collar, chain clinking, letting Kid know the leash was already attached. His mind drifted further.

“Who do you belong to?” Killer murmured, giving the leash another tug, “Right now, here, in this room, who do you belong to?”

Kid tensed, gritting his teeth, he was silent for a while, licking his lips and opening his mouth, trying to speak. But the walls, the demons, they wouldn’t let him, an iron hold on his voice that he couldn’t loosen.

A hand grabbed his hair, grip harsh enough to make him hiss, and when his partner spoke, Kid felt the heat of his breath on his face.

“Who do you belong to?!”

He took a breath, “Y-…” licked his lips, body tense, shaking, “y-y-…you.”

“…Good boy,” the grip on his hair relaxed, fingers massaging his scalp, soothing the ache in silent praise, before letting go, “You know what to do,” Killer said.

He could have told him, could have said ‘kneel’ or ‘get on your knees’, but all that would get him was a snarl, sending them both back to square one.

Kid pulled himself up, since his legs had been dangling over the edge of the mattress he knew where it was and moved back from it. The chain rattled as he pulled his knees under himself, kneeling on the bed, bring his arms - or, at least what remained of his left one - behind his back.

“Good boy,” with each little praise his mind slipped a little more, bending to Killer’s whim, “now, open.”

He opened his mouth, cold metal was placed between his teeth, tongue tracing the chain links of the leash as Killer set to work tying him up. Silken rope ran over his skin, tying around his torso, an X between his pecs. It pinned his arms to his back, wrapping around and around his limbs, locking his stump and arm together. Then Killer pushed him back, heart leaping into his throat as he fell. Kid hit the mattress with a grunt, panting as Killer spread his bent legs, tying them so his thighs remained pressed to his abdomen, spread as far as they could go, and calves remained pressed to the back of his thighs, completely immobilising his lower half. His breath hitched as something cold pressed against his ass, and he only got a couple of seconds to relax before the custom made, sapphire plug was pressed into him. The chain moved slightly and Kid relaxed his jaw, letting it go so Killer could pick it up.

“Look at you,” Killer whispered from somewhere in front of him, “imagine what your crew would think if they saw you like this.”

Kid tensed, clenching his teeth.

“Why, some might ask for a turn.”

He growled, throat tightening.

A hand gripped his chin, breath hot on his face, “And I’d slit the throat of everyone who asked, and cut out the eyes anyone who so much as saw you. You’re mine, like this, Kid, mine.”

His body relaxed, mind drifting further, the flame of defiance but a sad, little ember, he didn’t struggle to speak this time, “Yours.”

“…Are you ready for the rest?”

“Y-yeah,” he said with a shiver.

Killer hummed in thought, “You’re still not completely hard, so let’s use the cage.”

Kid swallowed, spreading his legs as much as the rope would let him. Breath stuttered as cold steel touched his warm cock, the sound of metal tapping against metal made him lick his lips. The device was slid over his balls and shaft, tugging at the former and trapping the later. There was a click of a padlock and his mind swam with arousal as he sunk into the sheets, relaxing, preparing himself for the final piece. The sound of tiny chains clinking made his cock twitch, struggling against the metal bars to swell to full hardness, yet denied the satisfaction. His chest tensed as the chains were clipped onto the larger metal links of the leash.

“Colour?”

“Excited green,” Kid’s voice trembled as he spoke.

Killer chuckled, and the bed dipped as he climbed on, moving so he was kneeling beside Kid. Cold, hard metal brushed against his nipple and he gasped, but it was immediately replaced by Killer’s soft, warm mouth. He groaned as that sinful tongue dragged and flicked over the hardening bud, cock swelling painfully against the cage as it too tried to harden. Killer sucked on his chest, slow and gentle, torturous and tantalising, yet Kid only began to tremble with excitement when he pulled away.

Cold metal touched his warm, wet skin once more, breath stuttering as Killer eased the clip closed, tightening ever so slowly on Kid’s nipple. He panted and gasped, growing louder and louder the tighter it got. Then, once it was half way closed over the painfully hard bud, Killer let go. Sweet, sharp pain shot through his chest and his cry matched its intensity, hips bucking, cock pressed uncomfortably against the bars of its cage.

“W-want the ring,” he gasped out, “not the cage, want the ring.”

Killer scoffed, “Oh? You want to get hard?”

“Y-yeah,” yet even as he spoke, Kid’s heart sank.

“No.”

There was a harsh pull on his leash as Killer growled, the jostle of the larger chain made the smaller one swing and rattle, tugging on his nipple and making him moan.

“Only good boys get what they want,” Killer growled, “and you were a very naughty boy today, Kid.”

Kid whined, rolling his head back as that warm mouth returned to his chest, paying equal attention to the other nipple. There was no gentleness this time when the clip was applied, the pressure was continuous, quick, making Kid’s head spin once it was fully on, precum no doubt clinging to the bars of the cockcage.

“Now,” Kid could hear the sneer in Killer’s voice, “let’s roll you over.”

Kid bit the tip of his tongue, trembling with anticipation. His breath picked up as two hands pressed against his side, and he tensed on pure instinct. Unable to move completely on his own, Killer slowly pushed him onto his side. Rope tugged at tense skin, digging in enough that he knew it would hurt so beautifully when they were removed. The collar around his neck shifted, reminding him of who he belonged to as the chain link leash rattled, tugging at the clamps on his chest and giving him sweet, delicious pain. The plug was jostled inside him, causing his legs to shake as the rough sapphire pressed into the inside of his cheeks. Sensation, all over, nothing but pure, blissful pinpricks of pain over every inch of his body.

But it wasn’t enough for his battle-hardened body. It would take more, so much more, before he broke.

Killer finally got Kid onto his front, forehead pressed into the mattress to avoid suffocating in the sheets, ass forced in the air by his bent legs. He lay there, panting, trembling from excess pleasure-pain that tingled all over his body.

“K-Kil.”

He gasped as a firm slap landed on his left cheek, pressing his sensitive flesh against the rough gemstone of the plug.

“You will speak when you are spoken to!” Killer snapped, delivering an equally firm slap to the right side of Kid’s ass

“Y-yessir,” he whined.

Cracks had formed in his defences, walls beginning to crumble, but still they stood tall. Something needed to knock them down, turn them into a pile of rubble and dust.

There was a loud crack in the air and Kid’s breath hitched, cock straining in its confines at the sound. Cool strands of leather were draped over his back, breath stuttering as they ran down his body, tips fluttering against his ass as they fell to the sheets.

Then there was silence, heart pounding in his ears, body tense, as he awaited the first strike.

Crack!

Kid yelped, ass stinging from the flail’s first strike. He whined and bit his lip, and waited for the next.

“Count,” Killer growled.

But when the leather came down again, the young captain bit his lips together, that last flicker of defiance gaining fuel from the lashing pain.

“No?” Kid’s heart froze, it was never good for him when Killer sounded excited during a painful scene, in his mind’s eye he could picture the blonde’s head tilting, eyes twinkling, that smile he hated so much spread across his face, “Then I’ll keep going till I’m satisfied,” there was a little twisted giggle as he spoke.

His heart leapt into his throat, and he almost shouted ‘two’, but his ass was immediately struck.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Pain shot through his soul, crumbling the walls around his mind to dust. It rolled up his spine, zapped through his limbs as he cried out with each strike. The chains jerked and swung, tugging at his chest in the most delicious of ways as the sapphire dug into the inside of his ass. There was a point where it just stopped being painful altogether, a sense of bliss washing through his being as his cock - though unable to get fully erect - leaked seemingly endless amounts of precum onto the sheets below. He heard Killer laugh, wicked and twisted, just as high as his captain from sheer adrenaline alone. There was a single pause, a heartbeat of respite, with Killer cracking the flail, ready to continue.

“F-forty…two,” Kid panted, throat hoarse from shouting, and dry from his gasping breaths.

Killer let out a low chuckle, “So you were counting,” Kid’s hair was grabbed, pulling his head back, straining his spine, “little brat.”

Kid shivered and groaned, his face was quickly shoved into the sheets. His body trembled, craving the next strike of the flail. Fingers brushed against his hip, before lightly swatting his raw, red ass.

“Eight more,” Killer murmured, tone dark and hungry, “and I’ll let you get hard.”

“Th-th-thank you, sir,” Kid gasped, relief washing through him.

The next eight strikes were the hardest of them all. His body had come down from the numbing high somewhat, leaving his skin tingling with sensitivity. The first hit had him shriek, yet his hips rocked back, craving the onslaught. On the fourth tears began to roll down his cheeks from under the blindfold, breath shaky, ass clenching around the plug, aching to be filled by the blonde’s cock. On the sixth he sobbed, trembling, drooling, babbling nonsense through gasped breaths. Finally, on the eighth, he wailed, sobbing. His ass clenched rhythmically around the plug, body quivering as he came from the pure blissful agony he was in.

Kids mind drifted, and he was barely aware of Killer shifting behind him, unlocking the cage, allowing his twitch cock to swell to full hardness. Fingers brushed against his lower back, where most of the rope was knotted together. He shivered in anticipation, his walls were broken, demons no longer weighing him down.

Killer was going to make him fly.

[training4theapocalypse-backup]

On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, Verbal Humiliation, Light bondage, Duct tape, Tent sex, Accidental voyeurism, Bodily fluids, Dubious consent, Characters mistakenly assume non-consent

Summary: Immediately after the attack on the Glan Tai bottling plant, Task Force X sets up camp overnight to rest before the road trip home. Vigilante offers to help you, an MI6 agent working under Amanda Waller, find creative ways to navigate drawbacks of your new superpowers.

A/N: Not a fan of Y/N so there's an original character with powers sort of similar to the DC comics Black Canary

Masterlist

Chapter 1: For Your Ears Only

“Pretty please do it again?”

Vigilante is cross-legged opposite you on the other side of the bonfire. He eagerly lines up empty beer bottles and looks at you expectantly. You don’t hate him exactly but you do find literally every single aspect of his personality annoying. He is so irritatingly enthusiastic and let's face it, a psychopath. Your poor eyes have never rolled so much or so often when you spend time with Vigilante.

He’s like a golden retriever puppy personified- if puppies were armed to the hilt and trained to kill with zero regard for human life. And despite your alias, you’re more like a black cat than a Blackbird. Cautious, quiet, sometimes deadly- you possess a distinct lack of tolerance for dogs like Vigilante.

Tonight though… tonight you have a little more patience for him than usual. Perhaps it’s the fact that he saved your life just hours earlier. Or maybe it’s just the beer you’ve been sinking since your very close brush with death. Normally you’d turn your nose up at American beer, but you definitely needed a drink after today’s mission.

He is waiting expectantly and even though you’ve never seen his face before, you can tell that he has a goofy grin under his mask.

“Will you leave her alone for five minutes?” Harcourt finishes the bottle she’s been sipping and tosses it into the rubbish pile. But she’s less stern than usual, the massacre today brought your team closer together and the mood is still light.

“Yeah, Blackbird, if you need me to kick his ass just yell,” says Adebayo

You smile and raise your eyebrows.

“Uhhh, right. The supersonic scream thing. Well, come bang on the side of my tent if you need me.”

She strains as she tries to stand up with difficulty. Adebayo had had a narrow escape inside Glan Tai - a giant gorilla had knocked her aside and she severely sprained her ankle.

“You won’t be kicking any ass tonight Adebayo, not with that injury.” says Economos, pulling her up. She wraps one arm around Economos’ shoulders and her other around Harcourt’s. “G’night you three,” he says. You lift your hand to give them a short wave in return. They help her limp to her tent before retiring to their own respective ones.

You hope she’s okay. Out of this team of Americans that Waller has ordered you to team up with, you find Adebayo to be the least grating.

You, Vigilante and Chris remain by the campfire. Vigilante rests his face on his cupped hands and looks at you. Like a psychopathic masked cherub.

“C’mon Birdie, just these three bottles? Please?”

You roll your eyes again- you’re going to pull an eye muscle if you spend any more time around Vigilante- his incessant chatting makes you grind your teeth. Mostly because it’s extremely irritating but also because you’re a little bit jealous. Your fellow MI6 agents used to complain that you talked too much and gave each other significant looks whenever you went on and on. 

But of course, that was before your accident. Who would have guessed that stealing a prototype supersonic jet on behalf of Her Majesty’s Secret Service would end up with you being royally fucked? You woke up weeks later with the world’s most deadly sonic vocal cords. The icing on the cake was MI6 ordering you to join Amanda Waller’s investigation into the butterflies, probably as punishment for failing your previous mission.

You take a deep breath and quietly murmur a gentle, low note. The ground vibrates and the first empty bottle of Budweiser shatters. You concentrate hard and hum a second note and the next bottle cracks in a perfect straight line down the middle, the two halves fall apart. Another inhale and you let out a soft whisper- the third beer bottle is blasted backwards into the air by a sonic wave.

Vigilante leans back to rest on his elbows and looks at you appreciatively. “Never gets old.”

There is a moment’s pause as the three of you stare into the fire. “I never asked anyone at Corto Maltese but what does it feel like, having… abilities?” asks Chris “My sonic boom helmet is pretty cool but it must be scary as fuck having it inside your head.”

You shrug. You preferred life before your powers. Before MI6 had sent you here as punishment for failing to retrieve that jet and nearly getting yourself killed. You miss when you could sing Natasha Bedingfield on karaoke and laugh ‘til you cried without shattering every window in your flat. 

“She misses not being able to talk. I get it Birdie, it feels good to open up and get your feelings out.”

“Vij, stop making shit up. You don’t know that she misses talking.”

“Uh- I think I know how my second best friend forever is feeling. I can read her body language.”

Second best friend forever? Is that sarcasm? As far as you could tell, Vigilante doesn’t really understand sarcasm, nevermind make sarcastic quips himself. So does he actually think you’re friends? 

He may be a borderline stalker that follows you around like a little puppy but the fact that he is super observant comes in handy. It’s probably why you work so well together- even if you don’t like to admit it. In combat, he watches your every move and responds and adapts so quickly that it feels like you’re in sync. 

“Tell me he’s talking out his ass,” says Chris

You give a small shake of your head and Chris still looks confused. You pull out your phone and open the notes app.

‘He’s right.’ You type and hold up your screen reluctantly.

“See!” Vigilante points at you enthusiastically. “I can but she hates to admit it! I’m a mind-reader, baby. No wait, better than a mind-reader, a body-reader! And damn, I love to read that body.”

You exhale through your nose, scoffing silently but you take a much longer swig of beer. You really do hate admitting that he’s right. What does it say about you that the only person in the team who can’t pick up on most normal social cues can read you like a book? You remind yourself that his body-reading really did save your backside when you were fighting the butterflies earlier. 

One of them had snuck up on you from behind and clamped his hand over your mouth, stopping you from emitting your sonic scream. He had a blade against your throat, ready to sever your vocal cords to stop you from killing any more of his comrades. But Vigilante threw a knife at his head with precision, the blade inches from your face, leaving you soaked in blood, breathless and lying on your back staring up at him, blinking in disbelief, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His towering figure hoisted you back up to your feet with such ease… it actually looked kind of hot. Not that you could ever tell him that.

“Hey Birdie,” you look up at Vigilante and can tell by his sing-song voice that he’s still smirking under his mask “Have you ever been fucked so hard that you brought down an apartment building?”

“Jesus Christ, Vij!” scolds Chris

This time you don’t make a sour face or give him an eye roll. You flush involuntarily and end up looking down at your crossed legs, praying that neither Vigilante nor Chris can read your expression. Your domino mask only covers part of your face so you hope the bonfire makes the heat rising in your cheeks less noticeable. 

He’s touched a nerve. Yes, you miss laughing and singing but there’s something you miss even more. You haven’t even touched yourself in over a year, nevermind had sex, just in case you make any noise. You’ve had sex dreams that turn into nightmares, always ending the same way- a moan of pleasure that becomes a horrified scream as your sonic waves blow the brains out of the faceless lover in your dreams.

You look up and they’re still staring at you expectantly. You shake your head.

“Shit,” exhales Chris “I thought I had it bad in prison but a vow of silence and abstinence? You’re for sure getting into heaven.”

You smirk. You’ve killed way too many people to get into heaven.

“Say the word and I’ll help you out, Birdie,” says Vigilante. 

“Come on Vij, I said cut it out,” Chris interjects.

Your eyes don’t leave Vigilante, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. But you wait for him to finish.

“I saw how that butterfly left you defenceless earlier when he had his hand over your mouth. Just blink twice and I’ll do the same thing, babe. One hand over your mouth and the other deep in your-”

“Okay - that’s enough!” Chris gets up and hoists Vigilante to his feet by the scruff of his suit. “Blackbird is just trying to fuckin’ have a beer and you think you can harass her?”

You sit in stunned silence, momentarily distracted by Chris’ profound moment of self-growth. It was only last week that he was sexually harassing your waitress in Fennel Fields, and according to Harcourt, harassing her in a bar just days ago. You bite your lip, your gaze returning to Vigilante and you can feel the flush on your face spreading down your neck and to your chest. You’re grateful that your leather suit doesn’t leave any skin below your neck exposed.

“I’ll take first shift. I’m supposed to be watching for butterflies,” says Chris and he roughly lets go of Vigilante. He points two fingers at his eyes and points them at Vigilante. “But I’ll be watching you too.”

“Aww come on! I’m not a creep.” Vigilante holds up his hands in protest and you find yourself noticing how large his hands actually are. “But I do have duct tape,” he adds, glancing over at you. You’re glad when he turns 180 degrees and positively skips off towards his tent so he doesn’t notice your chest heaving as you try to steady your breath. Calm down.  

You continue to watch him on his way to the far side of the camp as you finish your drink. You throw the empty bottle in with the others in the bin. You nod to Chris and point your thumb at your tent.

“Sleep tight Birdie. I’ll keep an eye on Vij for you.”

You smile and wave your hand away, It’s fine don’t worry about me, but Chris totally misreads your body language.

“Yeah, I’ll push him away like that-“ he mimics your hand wave “Read you loud and clear.”

You thought your signing and expressions were obvious but Chris reminds you again that Vigilante is the only person you’ve met who can read your movements like he’s reading your mind.

In your tent, you begin to peel off your skintight black leather suit. The dried blood from earlier cracks and flakes as you peel it off. You’re thankfully uninjured. Just a few aches and bruises, and a small scratch where the butterfly held his blade against your neck but you’re grateful you got off lightly. You strip to your plain black cotton underwear and sports bra and use a bottle of water and washcloth to get rid of the remaining blood and sweat from your body, trying your best to get it out of your hair. You need a real shower but this will do for now.

You crawl into your sleeping bag and as you had expected, you can’t get comfortable. Almost immediately you start to toss and turn. It’s unreasonably hot in here, despite the cool night air outside. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and when you lie still you can hear your heartbeat. 

You unzip your sleeping back, exposing your skin to the cool air and lie on your back, hands resting on your tummy. You trace your hand upwards, imagining Vigilante’s much bigger hand moving up past your throat to cover your mouth. You press your knees shut, trying to ignore the low hum of frequency buzzing between them. Your other hand seems to have a mind of its own and reaches down to lightly graze your swollen clit over the fabric of your underwear. You accidentally let out a single agonising groan. The hard ground vibrates and the fabric of the tent whooshes. Pausing, you hold your breath to see if anyone is stirring.

Nope.

You sit bolt upright. Fuck, it is so fucking frustrating being worked up with no release- ever. 

Breathe. 

Come on, you think, you can do this. You’ve gone over a year without this. Self-preservation. World preservation. You’ve taken down a group of five butterflies with a single, ear-splitting scream- who knows what sonic shockwaves would occur if you orgasmed?

And yet. 

Could Vigilante be right? The butterfly had rendered you helpless with one hand. Could the solution to your frustration be as simple as a strong hand over your mouth?

“I do have duct tape.” 

Heat sears between your legs. You kneel in front of the canvas entrance of your tent. You reach out tentatively to unzip your tent. Your hand hesitates. What if Chris or one of the others sees you?

On second thoughts, you sit back onto your heels, acutely aware of the way your underwear has felt increasingly hot and sticky since Vigilante skipped off to his tent. You place one hand over your mouth and slide the other one into your underwear.

When you close your eyes, the memory of Vigilante standing over you to retrieve his knife from the butterfly's skull enters your mind. The way his strong arms practically scooped you up and out of your stupor. How he firmly placed his hands on each of your shoulders and looked you over to make sure you were uninjured.

“I’ll do the same thing babe. One hand over your mouth and the other deep in your-” 

Oh for God’s sake. You’re furious with your own lack of self-control as you decide you need to find out how that sentence ends. You unzip the door slowly, quietly and poke your head out into the dark night air. To your left, Chris is still beside the fire, looking out towards the horizon, his back facing the small group of tents. You look towards the right- at Vigilante’s tent. It’s the furthest away from the rest of the group- about thirty or so metres away from yours.

You’ve never moved so quickly and so cat-like in your life. You tiptoe barefoot and half-naked out of your tent and creep silently towards Vigilante’s. You unzip his tent door and hastily climb in. 

“Fuck!” Vigilante scrambles around and sits up in his sleeping bag, he shines both a torch and a gun in your face, blinding you. You furiously press a finger to your lips to try and get him to shush. “What the-?” He blurts. Looking at the torch, you make a barely audible “Shh” and the bulb cracks. Everything in the tent goes dark.

“Birdie?” he whispers “I nearly shot you- I thought you were a butterfly.” You both look at the tent opening with bated breath, waiting to see if anyone has noticed the commotion. They don’t. The only sound is the canvas door moving gently in the cool night breeze.

With each blink, bright spots appear in front of your eyelids as your sight adjusts after being hit with the torch light. The dim moonlight barely penetrates the green canvas of the tent. You turn and see that Vigilante is only wearing a pair of teal boxer briefs- he is unsuited and unmasked. He’s no longer faceless and your eyes widen with the realisation that he is the busboy from Fennel Fields. Chris’ friend's brother- Adrian Chase. Adrian’s mouth opens in realisation as he brings a hand to feel his face, reading the recognition crossing yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers and tries to jam the mask back over his head but it gets caught on his glasses. “I can’t sleep with my mask on. I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass.” You reach out and grasp his arms firmly to stop his panicked movements. You let go and hold up your arms in an exaggerated shrug. He stops. “You’re right B bird. You were the only one left in the group who didn’t know my secret identity and you’ve seen me now.” And he tosses the mask aside. 

Your stomach does a little flip as your still-adjusting eyes take him in. Wow- he’s handsome. Thank God. Thick wavy black hair, green eyes, glasses and a muscular, lean body littered with scars.

His glasses are askew and he adjusts them- you can’t help but look at the veins on his muscular forearms as he does it. He halts and looks back at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion “What are you doing here? Shit- did Chris spot something on his watch?”

Fuck. 

You pause. He doesn’t know why you’re here. He was joking. Of course, he was- he never stops joking. He was probably just making fun of you. 

You try to make your expression blank and unreadable and all sorts of wild excuses flash through your mind. You hold up a finger, signalling for him to wait and bring up the notes app on your phone.

‘I heard a wolf’ you type and show him the phone screen.

“And you came in here rather than deal with it yourself? Alright-” he cocks his gun and starts crawling towards the open tent door. You wave your hands, telling him to stop and you zip the tent door blocking his exit. You quickly type on your phone again

‘Gone now. Can I sleep here in case it comes back?’ 

He looks up from your phone screen. “Birdie? Scared of a wolf? Damn, I thought you weren’t scared of anything!” He laughs quietly and you scowl. “Okay, okay- I won’t tell the rest of them you’re scared of wolves. Pinky swear.” He extends his pinky and you grasp it with your own. You wonder if he knows that there aren’t any wolves in these woods.

“Make yourself at home.” He waves across the surprisingly tidy tent and you’re secretly pleased that he’s scrubbed himself clean of (most of) the blood and dirt from earlier. He looks around the tent and his eyes land back on you and for the first time, he realises you’re wearing underwear and a sports bra. It’s not your sexiest lingerie but you feel a jolt of satisfaction as his gaze lingers a fraction too long. 

“Jeez, you must be freezing,” he says. Oh. Were his eyes just looking over your goosebump-covered skin? “You take the sleeping bag”

You can’t believe that after his comments earlier he is actually being a gentleman. This is not going to plan at all. He has no idea that his throwaway flirtatious remark momentarily shattered your worldview. 

Maybe this is why you find him so maddening. He is everything you aren’t. Everything you can’t be. He’s loud, he’s openly flirtatious and he’s unserious. The quieter you are, the more you recede into your shell. You can’t flirt anymore because you need to suppress all your sexual desires. You can’t even let out a sigh of laughter without causing a serious injury so you feel like you’re gradually losing your sense of humour.

“Hey, Birdie? Are you okay?” He looks into your face, concerned. 

That motherfucker. Of course, he’s caring too. You can’t stand it. You grasp his worried face and wrestle him into a kiss. 

Take that, you think as you bite his bottom lip.

It takes him a beat to realise what is happening but when he does he surges forward hungrily, his hand curls a fistful of your hair. He smells like the 5th of November. The bonfire smoke lingers on his skin and underneath the burnt gunpowder scent, there’s something fresh and citrusy- like bergamot. 

You taste his warm tongue as it enters your mouth and you trace your hand down his chest. He makes a noise low in his throat in response and using his hand to hold your jaw open he kisses you deeply, exploring your mouth with his tongue. You pull apart to get some air. Your masked eyes meet his bright green ones. His glasses are askew again and his cheeks are flushed.  

“Holy fuck- I’ve thought about kissing you every day since the moment I first saw you Birdie but I thought you hated me?”

You shrug and he laughs.

“Aw, I get it. Poor B bird, you’re just mean to me because you’re all frustrated. But I know deep down you like me. ”

You scrunch your nose, mockingly and your fingers continue downwards to graze his cock. But- wait a minute. Your eyes widen as you get a better feel for what you’re dealing with. Your hand grips round his thick cock through the fabric of his underwear. You rip your gaze away from his green eyes to look down and almost do a double-take. You thought they called him ‘ Thimble ’.

“Oh,” he says “Chris gives everyone a dick-based nickname. He gave me mine when I was 12.”

You continue to look at him incredulously.

“It was in a locker room, it’s a lot less weird than it sounds. Alright… maybe it is as weird as it sounds.” He pauses “Fuck is it also weird that your surprised reaction to my dick is making me even harder? The ol’ bait and switch.”

You’re trying very, very hard to keep your eyes unrolled. Your hands travel back up to his pecs and he lets you push him back so that he’s lying on his sleeping bag. You swing your leg over his body to straddle his hips and pull your sports bra off in one swift movement. 

“Holy fuck.” He groans like he can’t believe his eyes, grabbing your tits lecherously. “Your tits look even better than they do in that little black suit.” 

Perv.  

The scars on his body practically beg you to kiss them and so you start working your way down, slowly planting kisses on a healed shrapnel wound on his neck, a small scar on his sternum, following a trail of scratches down his abdomen and your lips meet the trail of dark hair below his belly button. You tug his boxers down, revealing his cock. You feel a rush of heat between your legs as you see it’s hard, leaking and desperate to be sucked.

He adjusts his glasses and looks down in anticipation. You slowly lick the underside of his cock and he lets out a quiet whimper as you circle your tongue over his head. You open your mouth ready to take him in when he sits up on his elbows. “Wait-”

You pause and look at him, eyes wide and mouth open, your tongue resting on his frenulum. 

“Is it safe?” he asks. There’s a glint of something in his eye. Fear? Is Vigilante actually afraid of something- you? You nod reassuringly in answer to his question. “You’re sure you can do it without making any noise?” You nod again, your tongue still on him and his cock bobs with your head movement. “Okay” he acquiesces but he remains on his elbows, looking down at you as you open your jaw as wide as you can and try to take all of him in.

It’s been at least 18 months since you did this but you don’t remember it being this difficult. Your lips feel stretched as you take in as much of his length as you can. Your tongue slides up and down the underside of his penis and you feel his head hit the back of your throat but your lips aren’t even close to the base. 

“Fuck, you were so mean before. And now you’re being such a good girl for me- what happened to you Birdie?”

Good girl. Ugh, why does that make you melt?

You concentrate hard and you desperately want to moan but you can’t make any noise with your vocal cords. The only sound is the obscenely wet slurping of your saliva as you swirl your tongue around his length.

You look up at him again and see he has the same glint in his eyes as before. And you realise it isn’t just fear, it’s excitement. 

Sick fuck.

He’s excited at the danger - that you might accidentally blow him to smithereens while, well, blowing him.

“Wait… wait…” he groans and cups your chin. Oh no- maybe he’s realised the life-threatening position he’s in? “I’m gonna blow my load if you keep doing that.” 

Yes! You think with satisfaction.

“Just looking at your pretty mouth- oh fuck- that dangerous little mouth that just killed an entire swarm of butterflies. Fuck- it makes me wanna cum.”

He’s deranged. But you’re desperate to please him, give him that release he deserves for saving your life earlier. You nod with your mouth still full, giving him permission to cum down your throat.

“I can’t,” he genuinely looks anguished “Because I still wanna fuck you. And I really wanna taste your pussy… will you let me?”

You reluctantly remove his cock from your mouth and purse your lips with worry. You shake your head.

“You don’t want me to go down on you? Isn’t that why you came in here B?” You crawl up towards him and lie on your side, facing him. Adrian turns on his side and looks into your eyes. Your eyes are wide, pleading that he understands. 

“You think it’s too dangerous for me to go down on you?” You give a small embarrassed nod. 

“Hey, what did I promise you?” He tilts your head up. “I promised you I’d put one hand over your mouth…” He covers your mouth with his left hand and you’re forced by the sudden weight of him onto your back “... and the other…” His right hand pulls your underwear off and he gently glides over your wet folds with his fingers. The pads of his fingers lightly graze your throbbing clit and you fight not to buck your hips greedily. He leans in to whisper, his lips touching your ear and his breath hot “...deep in your cunt.”

Adrian sucks two of his fingers and then sinks them deep into your aching pussy, curling up and hitting the spot you crave, his palm rubbing your clit. You arch your back as he presses his fingers inside you.

“Oh man, you are so fucking wet already. Is that just from sucking my cock? Or is it from when you were in your tent coming up with that wolf story?”

Fuck - he did know. 

“Just look at you- squirming and totally fucking defenceless. I could do whatever I wanted to you and you couldn’t even stop me because my hand is stopping your one power.” Your eyes roll back in your head- for once not in exasperation but in pleasure. 

Please, Adrian, do whatever you want with me. 

You feel your pussy getting wetter thinking about how he’ll split you in half with his fat cock after this. Your head is already spinning and he’s only using two fingers.

“I never thought you’d be like this. I never thought you’d be a little slut that creeps into my tent in the middle of the night. I thought you were stuck up but here you are, getting off on being held down and finger fucked by the guy you hate.”

Fuck, he really can talk.

Adrian’s theory is put to the test as you feel a soft moan try to escape your throat. You’re worried that your own head might explode. But nothing happens. The sound is dampened against the palm of his hand. He feels the vibrations against his palm and realises that he was right. It spurs him on to go faster and he lowers his head to your pussy. You feel his hot tongue lick between your folds. He finds your clit and starts moving his tongue in quick firm circles. His fingers continue to curl and press upwards, tapping a beautiful rhythm as your muscles squeeze round his thick digits.

“Oh, Birdie I’m gonna make you cum all over my fingers then I’m going to fuck this tight, wet little pussy.” His mouth returns to your clit but you’re already past the point of no return. His words, God damn his words, sneak up on you and push you over the edge, your first orgasm in over a year and it arrives quicker than it ever has before. Blinding, searing heat rips you apart from inside out as you’re hurled headfirst into your release. The walls of your pussy flare and contract around his fingers, you see stars as your chest heaves and you give another muffled desperate moan into Adrian’s hand. 

Fuck, you can’t believe you’re cumming for Vigilante. 

He gives a few slow licks up the entire length of your slit, releases his hand from your mouth and crawls up towards you. His arms on either side of your head, he gives you another slow, deep kiss. 

“Did you like that, B?” Even if you could use your vocal cords, you’re not sure you’d be able to speak. He laughs as you gaze at him through heavy lids. “You are so adorable when you’re satisfied” he gently pinches your cheek “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He clambers off you and rummages around in his duffel bag and your abdomen clenches with delight when you see he’s holding duct tape. “I need to warn you that this might hurt when you take it off.” He regularly kills people for doing graffiti but looks genuinely concerned at the idea of duct tape causing you discomfort. Maniac. You nod and point to your mouth, encouraging him to seal your lips.

He straddles you, peels a short length of duct tape and rips it off the roll with his teeth. “Ready?” Using his large, gentle hands he firmly presses the duct tape over your lips. Fuck, you feel constricted but it’s turning you on even more. A wicked idea flashes across your mind. You put your wrists together and eagerly extend your arms towards him.

He gasps in mock dismay, and then a wild smile crosses his face. “You are such a little slut for me, pretty Birdie. Are you normally this kinky?”

You flush bright pink. You’re not. But tonight you want to give Adrian total control, so you wait with your arms out, eyes pleading, and he obliges. He wraps the duct tape around your wrists and once again uses his teeth to detach the length from the roll of tape. 

“Holy fucking shit” he tosses the roll back into his bag and looks at you hungrily. He takes your tied arms and moves them above your head to give him a better view of your tits. “All those times I’ve dreamed about you naked in my bed, I never thought you’d be gift-wrapped.” 

You look up at him and feel truly helpless. Adrian’s head drops down to give the contour of your neck a long drag of his tongue, slow and hot and gentle. He trails kisses along your jaw and stops when his lips are almost touching your ear. “If there’s anything you don’t like, baby, just let me know. Hit me or something.” He whispers.

This brief shift in tenderness and his consideration for your enthusiastic consent simply leaves you in a puddle. You nod and hold your breath waiting for his next move.

He starts to work down, kissing your neck, your collarbone and then you feel your blood burning fire through your veins as his lips envelop your left nipple. He squeezes your tits, cupping them with both hands and his teeth gently graze your sensitive skin. Your back arches and he lifts his head up, watching you writhe. His calloused fingers pinch both of your nipples and he plants sloppy, wet kisses across your chest. Adrian’s kisses then land on your ribs and trail down your stomach.

You’re already soaking fucking wet again. You try to move your legs apart, eager to let him see how ready you are but his knees on either side of yours block the way. Your pussy is slick, swollen and desperate for him to fill you up again. 

“Patience, Birdie.” He kisses just below your belly button and when his eyes close and he moves back up to suck your other nipple you let out a muffled whine. 

“Fuck, your skin is so soft,” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent “And how do you smell so good after kicking ass all day? Like leather…and lavender..”

You wriggle out from underneath him impatiently, pulling your legs up to your chest and wrapping your ankles behind his waist. He pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you with impish delight. You bring your tied wrists over his head and behind his neck so you can better leverage your body into his. He kisses the duct tape across your lips. 

“So demanding.” His whisper chastises you with a cocky smile.

He moves back, untangling himself from you so he can get a better look at you lying flushed and naked on his sleeping bag. You draw your knees up to your chest so he can see how desperate and soaking your pussy is and he holds your legs above you by the calves. Adrian surveys the sight before him appraisingly and slaps the meat of your thigh with an open palm. 

You whine into the sticky covering on your mouth and in response, he traces his fingers gently up and down your soaking-wet entrance.

“God, you have a beautiful pussy. It’s like it was fucking made for me to be in it.”

He puts two fingers inside your leaking cunt and slowly draws them back out. You look down and blush at how wet you are as he takes himself in his now wet hand and strokes his length with your slick. 

Adrian lets go of your calves, catches the backs of your knees, and spreads your legs, pulling you towards him. He kneels in front of you and runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds. A jolt of panic sears through you when you feel his thick head at your entrance. You grab a fistful of Adrian’s wavy hair, and force him to look in your eyes. Be gentle, your eyes plead. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex and you hope he has the sense not to fucking destroy you with his cock.

“I’ll go slow” Adrian presses his forehead against your head and stares deeply into your eyes as if reading your mind. He pulls back and tenderly brushes your hair away from your masked face then he returns his hand to guide himself into your pussy.

And then- pressure. Blunt and thick as he breaks you open over his cock. 

Your hand grabs his hair as if by instinct and Adrian watches your face intently as you squeeze your eyes shut. Come on, you think to yourself, you’ve literally been stabbed multiple times- you can take a fucking cock.

“This okay B?” You nod determinedly as he pushes deeper. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And so… fucking…tight.” His words are as slow as the incredibly controlled way he pushes himself into you and you feel like your insides are being rearranged. Fuck, you’re know you’re going to ache for days after this.

You let out a deep exhale and at the same time, he groans as he fully sheathes himself into you. You’re grateful for the respite when he pauses and you can tell from his furrowed brow and shaking arms that he’s struggling not to cum already. 

He’s only paused for seconds but his self-restraint sends waves of arousal washing over you. You wriggle again, this time moving your hips in tiny circles, feeling him throb as you squeeze around him as hard as you can.

“Such an impatient little Birdie,” he says, gritting his teeth as you squirm underneath him. “Trying to make me cum first.” Your wriggling has given him newfound determination to make you cum again- before he does.

He starts to ramp up his pace so in return you squeeze your muscles tightly and move your hips, attempting to fuck yourself back into him, even though the stretch of him feels searing.

“Is this what you needed? Needed the fucking you’ve dreamed of - since even before you got your powers?”

His words do something to you. You let out an involuntary whine into the duct tape and he laughs. “Yeah, this is what you needed baby.” 

How does he switch like this? So sweet and then just so, so filthy, so degrading . You remind yourself again that Vigilante is probably a psychopath. But you can’t deny that the way he talks is really, really turning you on - and he knows it. 

Adrian’s hands thread through your hair and his biceps are at either side of your face. For the first time, you wish your mouth wasn’t covered with duct tape so you could kiss his arms and feel his tongue in your mouth again. You plant your tape-covered mouth into his neck anyway, inhaling the scent of smoke and his bergamot fragrance. 

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you Birdie. The way you roll those pretty eyes at me. I knew I could make you like me. And I know you really, really like how my cock is filling you up. The others would never believe how much you fucking like me now.”

The sound of his thrusts become shamefully wetter in response to his words. 

“Fuck, I felt that. Who knew you’d get so wet hearing me talk. You. Pretty. Little. Slut.”

Your toes curl as he punctuates the last four words with brutal thrusts. He takes your tied wrists and pins them above your head, they brush the zips on the tent door. The silhouette of his broad shoulders and outstretched arm makes you notice the size difference between you. His head drops down to your throat and he sucks on your neck as his fingers dig bruises into your forearms.

“Thank God your mouth is covered or the whole team would know that you’ll be spending tonight cumming all over my cock.”

He moves his other hand down between your bodies and you exhale pitifully at the canvas ceiling when the tip of his finger starts rubbing small firm circles on your clit. Oh fuck, this is it. The same flicker of warning from earlier as he continues to thrust inside you. 

“Y’know I’d gladly let you fucking decimate my entire apartment building if it meant I could hear you cumming for me.” 

From anyone else, this would be a joke but Vigilante is a fucking lunatic and you know he’s being sincere. Is there anyone you could be with who would honestly let you do that? You feel tears swimming in your eyes and you start to see stars. You’d be audibly sobbing with lust and relief if you could.

“Fuck yeah, come on, fucking cum on my cock,” He whispers in your ear, his tone becomes gentle. “Come on, pretty Birdie, do it again for me.” 

Everything surges hot and molten while he keeps pounding himself into you. You cum and the moan that escapes you is so fierce that the masking tape on your face vibrates. Your fingers search wildly behind your head and grab onto the nearest thing- the tent zipper - as your walls convulse and squeeze around his cock in pleasure. 

Adrians hips stutter “Holy shit you get so tight when you cum.” You give him another squeeze “Oh fuck, I’m gonna— I’m- wh-where? Do you want me to cum on your stomach?”

You don’t have time to grab your phone and tell him on your notes app about how your supersonic accident was permanent birth control. So instead you shake your head, wrap your legs even more tightly around his waist and lift your hips off the ground pressing yourself to him tightly. 

Inside. Please cum inside me, Adrian. 

He understands, like you knew he would, and the desperate pull of your legs makes him plow his hips deep into yours. His whispered moans jump up to a fortissimo as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he empties his load inside you. “Fuckfuckfuck” his curses turn into an incomprehensible stream of consciousness. His hips shudder, he gives a final loud groan and you feel his cock throbbing as the hot ropes of his release coat your insides. 

He’s heavy on top of you but comfortable. Like a muscular weighted blanket. You could lie here forever, he breathes heavily into the crook of your neck and his warm cum leaks out of you, making a mess of his sleeping bag. 

Your masked face is damp- tears have been streaming down your cheeks. A build-up of emotions passes over you like a wave. You’re just honestly grateful that you met someone as reckless as Vigilante. How many people could say they had someone willing to risk their life just to please them?

Suddenly- footsteps. Fuck, Adrian had been loud. 

“Blackbird? Fuck! Her tent is open and she’s not here!” Shit- that’s Chris’ voice.

“Peacemaker, over here!” yells Harcourt and you can hear her voice only feet from your head. Damn she was stealthy.

You and Adrian barely have time to look at each other before the tent door is wrenched open, and Agent Harcourt is pointing a gun inside. 

Chris and Harcourt stare open mouthed in shock. Adrian on top of you, flushed, sweating, glasses askew. You with tears in your eyes, masking tape over your mouth and your hands bound and stretching for the tent door. You and Adrian come to the same realisation as you lock eyes. 

You wave your hands at Chris and Harcourt wildly, in a ‘Stop!” motion. Chris, as usual, misreads your meaning entirely and seems to think your waving means ‘Help!’ .

“God damnit Vij!”

Adrian looks up, horrified “No, no, no, no. This is so not what it looks like!” 

“I’m not gonna enjoy kicking your ass,” says Chris, putting his helmet on “But someone has to do it.”

Fuck. 

You rip the duct tape off of your mouth- your eyes squeeze shut in pain as you feel your top lip split. “Chris, stop!” you whisper urgently and Chris is hit by the sonic wave, sending him flying into the air and landing on his back over ten feet away. You all watch as he sits up slowly, dazed but uninjured.

“Holy shit,” laughs Adrian in amazement “I didn’t know you had a British accent.”

Idiot. 

Chapter 2: Bird After Reading

[westanthewaterman]

What You Need - Murdock x GN!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word count: 1400+

Contents: predator/prey, very dubious consent, brief chloroform, bondage, clothed Murdock naked reader, no pronouns and no body parts used for reader, glove kink, thigh riding, daddy kink, use of petal, babydoll, and little thing

AN: This was inspired by an idea from the lovely @meloncalic. Also incredible that I wrote a Murdock fic without knife kink. I guess there's a first time for anything.

So yeah, I'm still alive and kicking. Spite is a powerful motivator >:)

MASTERLIST - AO3

You’re not sure how long you’ve been running, but you know you can’t stop, not if you want to survive the night. It’s unclear how you ended up here, what choice led you to this moment. You’re not even sure if the choices you’ve made mattered, or if you would’ve ended up here no matter what. 

Perhaps you were trapped in his web the moment he laid eyes on you. 

Now though, it doesn’t matter how you got here, just that you need to keep running. 

Body aching, breath punching in and out of your lungs, you run and run, not sparing a glance behind you for fear of what you might see. He’d given you a head start - of course he had, he’s always been one for the chase - but you should’ve known the distance wouldn’t matter. 

He’s always been one step ahead. 

An arm shoots out through the darkness to your right and coils itself around your waist; the force of it knocking you off balance and sending you tumbling into what feels like a brick wall. There’s a dark, all too familiar, laugh and a cloth is pressed over your face. 

You’re not sure how long you struggle before the world goes black, but you know it was useless from the start. 

You wake to a chill in the air and a familiar cologne filling your nose. Murdock’s voice is a soft vibration against where your cheek is pressed into the crook of his neck; he’s humming some old, moony song you’ve heard him sing a million times before. 

Something seems to key him into your return to wakefulness because a gloved hand comes up to rub over your back in soft circles. You’re allowed only a moment to savor the feeling before you jolt up in his lap, suddenly very aware of the fact that there’s nothing between the leather of his gloves and your skin. 

You blink, eyelids heavy and head still foggy from whatever he’d dosed you with. Shaking your head, you look down to see you're completely bare in Murdock’s lap, straddled with your legs on either side of one of his thick thighs. You move to push yourself off him but find that your arms folded at your back and your wrists handcuffed. 

“M-Murdock.”

“There you are, petal. It took longer than normal for you to wake up, someone’s out of practice.” He practically sings, taking a hold of your chin, grip just a touch too firm, and forcing your gaze on him.

He’s smirking, predator eyes barely visible through the dark crimson of his sunglasses. You squirm in his hold, trying to pull your chin from his palm but the fog in your mind leaves your limbs far too lethargic to do anything more than give a feeble attempt at struggle. 

“Easy now, little thing, what’s the rush? You’re right where you need to be - in Daddy’s lap.”

You shudder despite yourself, finally mustering the power to yank your face from his grip, dropping your eyes to the floor. 

“Where are my fucking clothes?”

“You know Daddy likes you better like this.”

“That’s not what I asked, asshole.”

“So grouchy. You’re usually so well behaved. Why the tantrum, petal?”

“Why the-” You turn to scowl at him. “You threatened me, drugged me, and now you’ve got me bound and naked. Take your fucking pick!”

Murdock tuts, reaching up to cup the side of your face and trace his thumb over your bottom lip. “I know you like it when I hunt you.”

“N-No, I fucking don’t. You’re a freak, a psychopath, a goddamn murderer and I’m tired of all your shit.”

“Resorting to name calling? You must be feeling very vulnerable. Good.”

“Why can’t you just let me go? Why couldn’t you just let me walk away?”

“Because we both know that’s not what you really want.”

“But it is. I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of making excuses for you.”

“Making excuses for me…or making excuses for yourself?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please, petal, do you remember when I found you? So scared, so lost, so desperate for someone to protect you, to keep you safe.”

“If this is what you call keeping me safe then you’re insane.”

“But that’s the thing, my love. I don’t think you want to be safe. You could’ve been safe with anyone. But you didn’t choose just anyone…you chose me.”

“I-I…I chose wrong. I never should’ve given you the time of day. I should’ve turned you in the second I saw you for what you are.”

“But you didn’t. Because you couldn’t. You want to know why?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“You need me, babydoll. You need Daddy.”

“I don’t need you, haven’t you been listening? I don’t want anything to do with you, you goddamn monster.”

“Oh I’ve been listening, petal, just not to what you’re saying. I’ve been listening to your body and the way it craves me.”

Murdock clamps his hands down on your hips, pressing you down against his thigh and forcing a whimper from your lips. 

“You ache for me. Without Daddy here to keep you satisfied, what would you do?”

He starts to push and pull you over his thigh, the texture of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive skin between your legs and making sparks shoot up your spine. 

“S-Stop…”

“Do you really want me to? Tell me the truth. Tell me you need me and I’ll stop.”

You shake your head furiously, biting back a moan. “No, I don’t. I don’t.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Why fight it? Why fight me? We both know what you need.”

One of his hands slides up your body and to your chest, his leather clad fingers taking your nipple and tweaking it sharply. You moan, rutting your hips down against his legs subconsciously. Heat blossoms across your face and down your body, fogging your already addled mind. 

“That’s it, babydoll. Daddy makes you feel so good, doesn’t he? You don’t need to fight it, just give into it. Tell me what I want to hear.”

A high pitched whine leaves your throat and you shake your head again, burying your face in the crook of his neck to hide the tears in your eyes. 

“My pretty thing, my perfect pet. You were made for me, made for this. Weren’t you?”

“No, no, please.”

“Hm? Please what? Do you want Daddy to stop? You know what you need to say.”

“I-I…hnn”

Murdock ducks down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, occasionally nipping at it with his teeth. The hand not on your hip reaches back to press a finger against your entrance. 

“Even through the gloves I can feel how this little hole clenches around nothing, practically aching for daddy. Isn’t that right, petal?”

Tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now and you can’t even think of holding them back, can’t even think about anything but the friction between your legs and the finger pressed so close to where you need it. 

“Please, please, Murdock, please.”

“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell Daddy how much you need him, need his cock and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I can’t- I can’t,” you sob quietly. “Daddy, please.”

“Go on, petal. Three little words, that’s all you need to say. Just three words and Daddy will fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

Murdock slides his finger inside you, curling it just so to rub against that special spot inside you and it’s too much and exactly right all at the same time. You cum with a cry, rutting helplessly against him and clenching around his finger. 

“I need you, daddy, please, please, please!”

The next few seconds are a blur. You’re lifted briefly followed by the sound of a zipper and then you’re being forced down onto his cock and you’re so full, so full, and why did you fight this? Why did you think anything else could feel as good as this? Why did you think you needed anything but him?

“That’s it, babydoll. I know what you need. Daddy always knows what you need.”

[littlefreya]

Easy Prey

Summary: Direct sequel to Jerk. Ring or not, August promised himself that he will make you his, in whatever mean possible and he kept that promise. 

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd person pov)

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+, dark, kidnapping, bondage, dubious consent, teasing, dirty talk, gunplay (yeah add this to the list of kinks I gave you), sweet degradation and praise.

A/N: You thought August is going to sweet talk this one, didn’t you? Surprise! This was a short drabble brought by a prompt, turned into a one-shot and then my beta @agniavateira suggested this as a sequel to Jerk before I posted. Since most of you may be in a thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, enjoy my own early b-day gift to you! Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming and @sapphirescrolls who convinced me to post this. 

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Your feedback is my fuel. 🖤

Easy Prey

August Walker lived his life swinging between the two sharp edges of a sword; but then, how could he not? He had to maintain a handsome prime-alpha male reputation while hiding his true cruel nature masked beneath mist and shadows.

It took everyone by surprise once it was revealed that the slick, charming agent was a vicious, Armani-wearing monster. A hard-to-swallow pill for most, but these two diverse entities were always one and the same: 

August Walker was John Lark the way darkness followed light. 

And how unfortunate it was of you to be lured into the spider’s web, stunned by the beauty of the pearly silk; you’ve gotten too close and had your limbs caught in the sticky threads. Now captured, you’ve earned yourself a taste of August’s sweet toxin yourself. 

Fear wasn’t even close to the sensation that was gnawing in your gut.

The suite was cosy; a sleepy fire crackled in the mantle, shy beams of maple light kissed your bare breasts while you laid upon the softest pillows. It felt like a sinister joke compared to the ropes charring the supple flesh of your wrists. August had you stripped of any remnants of protection of course, save for the little jewellery circling your finger which he eyed with a blank stare that screamed in its contained silence.

Fully clothed, he stood at the fore of the bed, wearing a blue three-piece suit as if he was attending a royal wedding. A magnum was clutched in his right hand and a dagger in the other. The calmness and elegance of his appearance only made you arch and grunt in your fruitless attempts to set yourself free.

“Ropes too tight, angel?” He hummed, his voice so pleasant it felt like your lungs were floating in a void. His crystal-pale gaze dawdled upon you, invading beneath the skin, penetrating the warm crease between your legs which you fought to keep shut. 

He felt it, or maybe even smelled the arousal that wafted at his direction and chanted his name.

“I’d save my strength if I were you. We’ve already proven that no one can hear your screams and we have a long night ahead of us.”

His words covered the bones of your spine with a thick layer of frost and in your searing throat, a bitter substance reemerged. Screwing your eyes shut, you wished more than anything for this to be a nightmare; but every time the binds twisted about your hands, you remembered the dreadful meaning behind the pain. 

It was there to remind you of the harsh slap that was reality.  

August tilted his head, a smile beginning to spread from each corner of his mouth: all pleasant and  charming as if this was nothing but a couple’s naughty getaway. 

“You can’t wake up from this, this is not a dream… or a nightmare, depends on your disobedience,” he assured, boding a sudden hollow in your chest. “Now, which one do you prefer? The knife or the gun?”

“Fuck you!” 

Defiant, you gathered yourself to scream a trembling cry, sending your legs to kick the mattress in a hopeless fight. Only it made things worse as August was able to spot the little dew-kissed orchid between your legs, glistening-wet with invitation. 

Flicking a tongue over his upper lip, he crept close. His broad shoulders strained, his posture that of an elegant predator; as you saw the large outlines of his heavy cock stretching his navy-blue trousers, even hatred and horror couldn’t mask the pang of need that shot through your core.

Despite the panic, the traitorous instinct of life whispered of undisclosed, primal lust. You wished so badly you could fight or hide it, but alas there was no hiding from August. He could sense it, see it, and even taste it on his wicked tongue. 

“Gun then,” he answered and slid the knife back into the holster in his belt.

Your breath hitched as the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you watched paralysed as he aimed the gun between your legs. Strong tremors coursed along your skin and your knees buckled and wobbled as the cold metal touched you; and yet, in that very moment, you did the impossible and moaned.

“Has it been that long since you had a dick inside you?” August observed with a vicious grin crisping his lips. It made his moustache twitch almost comically. 

“Don’t worry sweet angel, we’ll fix that soon.”

Pushing the gun between your kneecaps, he forced them open and ran the barrel feverishly down your inner thighs. The metal was freezing against your flesh, eliciting little tingles to spiral beneath the tender brush. Gasping, you looked away from him ashamed. You were terrified, not just of him, but from how much the wanton centre of your sex clenched from his ministrations.

You were bound and kidnapped by a dangerous man, and yet in your mind played the sick fantasies of him unbuckling his belt and giving you his full girth hard and wild. 

“You will soon have me in every hole,” August continued with a promise on his honeyed lips while lowering the brim of the weapon perilously close to your radiating heat and toying with the sensitive area teasingly. “I will make it hurt real bad, you’ll feel me there for days if not more,” he hummed and swerved the barrel between your engorged lips. 

“Please!” You gasped and writhed away slightly, tugging on the binds that began chafing your delicate skin. August raised his glare to meet your pleading eyes and leaned forward, his shadow looming over you entirely. Reaching one hand to your nape, he clutched you forcefully while his icy glare pierced right through your skull.

Slow and sensual he began to run the gun between your soft petals, gingerly grazing the hard shaft at the plump peak of flesh that made you cry out with both pleasure and despair. 

“Aww...” He keened and groaned. Never stopping his coaxing of your cunt with the still object, his breath huffed hot upon your cheek as he rounded his beautiful lips in faux pity. “Poor helpless little butterfly.”

Crying and dazed, you stared directly into his eyes. Words of plea kept running caged inside your head, unable to make their way out while you watched August’s large shoulder move back and forth. The movement resulting in the unwanted pleasure. Back and forth, he stroked you, gradually increasing the pace, and not without style even. Ruthless, August was keen on making you come.

You weren’t even sure what it was that you begged for at that point.

Grunts and sobs escaped your throat unwillingly. You squirmed and pushed against it, your body craving for more: not just for the rough friction that tingled at your cunt but also at the large bulge visible at his groin. The more rapture began to creep through your flowing tendons, the further you sank into delirium, wondering how he would feel like buried deep between your tight walls, fucking you the way only someone who has no boundaries would.

“Fuck!” You screamed, grinding against the metal while August leaned even closer and kissed the corner of your mouth before groaning and moaning at your lips. His hand worked hard between your thighs, the cold barrel now warm, the hollow edge coated with your elixir. 

The wall of your protests crumbled as the simmering surge of climax began pushing itself down your belly, leaving you teetering between self-loathing and ecstasy. 

“That’s right my beautiful butterfly, I’ll pluck your wings,” August promised in a husky whisper, watching you as you coiled and cried louder, your walls convulsing tightly around a sad, empty space as you came. If only you didn’t wish it was August choked between them instead.

As you slumped down, sweaty and breathless, he drawled a growl of content and slowly withdrew the gun to hold it next to your shivering face.

“I swear, Sloan’s assistants keep getting sluttier every year; the last one I fucked had a thing for me choking her,” he mocked while grazing the wet barrel against your cheek, “do you think you’d be into that too, sweetling? My hand around your throat?”  

Rounding your eyes in utter fear, you swallowed the dryness in your throat. August sighed with a malicious little grin while twisted awe danced between the blue, sparkling sapphires that examined you ecstatically, so fascinated by how easily he managed to break and bend you to his will.

Still holding the neck of the gun pressed next to your cheek, he reached the other hand above your head. A part of you was relieved for a moment, thinking he was about to untie the bind. 

But your hope quickly died as you felt his fingers rolling the ring that decorated your finger.

The diamond reflected onto the deep blue of his eyes as he examined it closely before throwing it directly into the fireplace.

“No!” You cried out brokenly, as the last memory of your old life disappeared in flames.

“Save your tears beautiful,” August retorted, his voice once again so soft it chilled your very core. He shifted his entire weight between your straddled thighs, and leaned in to kiss the wetness below your eye, “you won’t be needing it anymore.”

His tongue slipped out to collect the briny liquid that gathered on your cheek, and another hum of delight rumbled in his chest as his covered cock unmistakably ground against your mound, “I am your man from now on, might as well accept it and let me do whatever I want.”

Shivering under him, you took a deep breath, your body already swaying in demand as you felt him throbbing beneath the soft fabric of his pants. To your own horror, your head fell into a slow nod of shameful consent. 

It wasn’t just August you were afraid of, but also for yourself.    

[patronsaintofprincesses]

every sexy ask with a 4 in it!

OKAY sorry it’s taken me so long, first day of classes had me in an absolute tizzy!  So this is Ask Me These Probing NSFW Questions because i’m bored, starting NOW! (:

4. What’s the best sex you’ve ever had? honestly er well, the best sex i’ve had to-date has been angry break-up sex with my ex-fiance. i have never felt as deeply emotional and connected to one person as when i was pissed off and kissing our engagement goodbye.

14. How and when did you realise you weren’t straight? i think i was nine or so, perhaps younger, when i saw The Mask of Zorro and absolutely fell in love with both Zorro (Antonio Banderas) and Elena (Catherine Zeta-Jones). 

24. Do you have stretch marks? Where? mm i don’t have stretch marks but honestly it’s only a matter of time with the way i lounge about

34. Do you ever find yourself fantasising absent-mindedly, or is it something you do on purpose? well I’m definitely a daydreamer, but i’m going to go with the fact that this is an NSFW ask lol i definitely fantasize at the most inopportune of times.,,,,,i’m real thankful i’m not a man because i’d probably have random boners all over the place. I am gifted with being able to call a fantasy at will and also to be bombarded whenever/wherever. I’m not really a sexual being but i have a wicked imagination and i love to explore intriguing situations.

40. Describe your most sexy fantasy. oh my okay ahem so, i really like scent, bear with me, in my fantasy, they wore this cologne by Pitbull called Man that i really enjoy and would often go running in the morning with it barely clinging to them. i love the smell of hard work (lol sweat) and Man by Pitbull together it just gets to me so, they would run at a sinful hour, i’d still be in bed in a big tshirt or a corset depending on how the night went and they’d get up to run and i had the bed to myself. it’s early, the sun has not yet risen when they return and i can smell them when they come into the room to get to the bathroom. i’m warm and pleasantly aroused, still sleep mussed and my eyes have a hard time opening, mm but my heart is in my throat already because they’re there with their shorts kind of slung on their hips and sweat at the nape of their neck so i kind of detangle myself from the nest of quilts not gracefully and crowd them and just kind of inhale the way they smell, like lingering cologne and darling and you know natural earthiness yes sweat lol and it’s early so i’m still sleep heavy and all i want are kisses and to bite their face a bit mm so i do. i nip their lips and lick the shell of their ear and then have my way withthem lol preferably held tight skin close and joining them in sweating. that’s honestly the sexiest thing i can think of right now  

41. How do you feel about BDSM? love it, learn it, live it. i think that like everything there can be too much of a good thing mm but i really enjoy the nuances of it and of course safety is queen. i think that done right, practised and enjoyed, it can be something that nourishes the soul after all what is pain without a bit of pleasure and what is pleasure without a bit of pain? even yin and yang have a piece of the other within them.

42. What’s your most unusual kink? well i’d say corsets but really thinking about it mm i really enjoy breeding sex lol sans condom, dirty talk about being filled up, etc.

43. In an SM context, do you prefer giving pain, or receiving it? both. i can be kind of a brat and sometimes i need a good bit of punishment but i’m also a princess and i get a lot of pleasure from dominating someone i really care for. it’s wonderful to be so loved that you can be a bit dark from time to time

44. Do you consider yourself to be dominant, submissive, both, or neither? both i think im a switch. i can be a sub online pretty easily mm but in-person i have a hard time really tapping into that side of me, whereas in-person im bossy and willing to play the long game. i treasure my imperfection and as is the case with everything, if you’re not failing, you’re not learning. 

45. Describe your most recent bondage experience. god it’s been years since i’ve been actively bound, but the last time i had yards of red ribbon that held my arms above my head, crossed at the wrist and my not faux boyfriend had me belly-down and gasping 

46. In a BDSM context, have you ever referred to anyone as “daddy,” “mommy,” or any similar term? no mm i mistakenly referred to someone as ma’am for a few years ahhh it ended badly, i’m childish and terrible with dealing with other people’s issues. mostly i just call people darling and thats about it  

47. Do you have a kink for any bodily fluids (pee, saliva, blood, 😢, cum, etc.)? i love tears and occasionally i’ll fantasize about bloodplay mm i don’t think i’d actively engage but let’s say my stint with S left me a bit darker than i started off being. 

48. Have you ever revealed a kink to someone and had them react negatively? not that i can think of. i treat others as i wish to be treated LOL or at least i thought i did FYI i’m still so bitter about her, i’m probably going to be so until the end of my 20s 

49. Do you have any kinks that you’re ashamed of? yeah i love roleplaying being a sex object/sacrifice/arranged marriage bride so there’s definitely some dubious consent play going on. never full on non-consensual play but i do love being held down and/or tied up. 

54. Describe how you like your genitals to be touched. well, i’m definitely a tit/ass kind of gal, i love to be groped and rubbed up against mm i prefer a steady circular motion against my clitoris, a come hither gesture with two fingers against my gspot and a scissoring motion in my ass. i will literally clench down upon a n y t h i n g inserted so i love plugs, fingers, dildos, etc but i’m also not really a sexual person.,..,,,, i’ve slept with four men and two women and that was within a ten year span, four of which were spent with my ex-fiance. 

64. Do you find it easier to give oral to someone with the same genital configuration as you (eg., you both own vaginas/both own penises), or different? mm i love vaginas, i love performing oral sex on women because i’’m definitely far more comfortable with the parts lol penises are....strange to me and i find myself being kind of bad at fellatio. like no one has complained but im pretty sure they’re just being nice. 

74. Can you take a lot in your butt, or just a little? it depends, like if i’m properly stretched then i can take a fair amount and if i have a plug and generous amounts of lube i’m usually soft and sloppy open the morning after. so yeah um a fair amount 

84. Do you enjoy 👀 your partner(s) having sex with others? sure um i’m not a jealous woman and i’m poly and a voyeur and an exhibitionist (as long as i feel sexy that day lol if not then no, i’ll be in my room in my pajamas reading).

94. Post your follower count. so many porn bots @---@ oh my god but there’s 400 and i think 12 are actual people *sad violin*

THANK YOU for asking um i hope these are the right ones otherwise i’m going to feel so awkward lol 

[rich-ramblings]

AKA: Baby’s First Smutty Fanfiction

On paper, the mission the day before had gone more or less without a hitch, but Katsuki probably wouldn’t agree. He’d taken his eyes off the target for one crucial second, and that was all it took for the villain’s tail to catch him, toss him aloft, and smash him into the ground. The concussion that resulted wasn’t life threatening, but enough to warrant a visit to the hospital. He, of course, insisted that he was fine, and Eijiro had had a hell of a time getting him to stay at home and rest. He may or may not have had to call in a favor from Ms. Bakugou, one that involved Katsuki’s baby photos, but the important thing was that he was taking it easy for at least a week.

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Additional Tags: poorly written and disorganized smutBut there is plothowever incomprehensibledubious medical advicekiribakubakushimabakushima smutkiribaku smutSexLight BondageHand JobsHandcuffsSex Toyswell just one reallyVibratorsBoku no Hero Academia FutureAged-Up Character(s)Smutbnha smutFingeringRidingSloppy Makeoutskatsuki's magic hips are mentioned but really its about eijiro'sMasturbationshowering togetherIf that's your thing - Freeformthat happensMorning Sexbakugou is a softy in the morningLove BitesHickiesMorning WoodNSFWbnha nsfwyou may have guessed this but i don't know what people search for to find this stuffbut i want y'all to know what you're getting y'allselves intoPornno like that's a plot element this timePorn WatchingBad Jokesbad sex jokesmore specifically - FreeformAnal SexAnal Fingeringwell those happened earlier too and I guess i forgot to tagCuddling & SnugglingNaked CuddlingPost-Coital Cuddlingi hate that wordSome light angstnothing too badboop boop boop it's chapter five let's see if there's anything new to taguhhhhhhhDirty TalkLapdanceService Topthat's been a thing though like that's kirimy boyi'm love himmore sloppy makeoutsBitingLots of bitingNipple Playwill i come back and edit the tags when the last chapter is done stay tunedthe answer was no (says post-chapter six Richard)just here to double checkExplicit Sexual Contenti thought that said 'consent'and i mean yeah that tooconsent is importantExplicit Consentoop there it isOutfit Kinkthere are only soft kinks in this homeBottom Bakugou Katsukiand alsoBottom Kirishima EijirouTop Bakugou KatsukiandWait for itTop Kirishima Eijiroueveryone's a switchwelcome to my worldi've ranted enough enjoy the storyCompleteEstablished Relationshipestablished Kiri/Baku

[switchysmythe]

Easter Event

WHO: Elliot Smythe (egg holder) & Eric Anderson [ @ericxanders ] WHEN: 7th April 2019. WHERE: Dance studio EGG ITEMS: Dance studio, crop & shackles

Eric had be more than willing to be Elliot’s partner for the Easter Egg event; the second the Switch mentioned a crop being involved, he’d been sold. Elliot was attractive, and when he’d told him some Dominants would be eagerly awaiting the opportunity to put him over their knee, he’d been including himself. ‘Have you had any experience with pain play since the last time we spoke?’ He asked curiously. The dance studio was the perfect place for a scene. The mirrors lining the room made it impossible for a submissive not to watch themselves, and it ensured he could see their face even when standing behind them. ‘Remind me of your limits and your safeword and we can get started.’

Elliot hasn’t done many scenes since being here and the ones I had done have only been with Judas so he was looking forward to exploring a little bit more. Plus, he couldn’t deny how attractive Eric was so that was certainly a bonus. Elliot shrugs his shoulders in response. “Does spanking count?” he asks. He figures it does but he’s not exactly a spokesperson for pain play. He’d certainly never done anything in front of this many mirrors, not that he was complaining, it would just be very different and very new. “Yes, sir,” he responses. The word ‘sir’ is starting to become easier for him to use but again he mostly just uses it with Judas. “My limits are anything involving bodily fluids, expect the obvious of course,” he says with a small smirk on his lips. “And anything that is dubious consent, even if it is consensual,” he says, narrowing his eyes - the sentence makes sense in his brain. “My safeword is gambler,” he adds.

Eric: ‘Spanking definitely counts. I’m only slightly disappointed I wasn’t the one to get you over my lap.’ he winks, a teasing tone evident in his voice. ‘What did you think? I know that’s only a little taste but was it something you enjoyed?’ The biggest draw with pain play for him is on one hand, the level of trust someone puts in you in allowing you to hurt them, and on the other hand, it’s being able to combine pain and pleasure in such a way that the submissive is begging for release. ‘Strip, fold your clothes and set them aside.’ he instructs after confirming he’s heard and understand his safeword and his limits. He spots a chair off to the side and drags it into the middle of the room. ‘I was going to start this with you in bondage like we discussed but frankly, the idea of you over my lap is too appealing to pass up.’ he grins, taking a seat. ‘When you’re ready Elliot, lay yourself across for me.

Elliot raises his eyebrows at Eric’s words, smirking at him. “There’s time for that,” he replies. Honestly Elliot has great difficulty not falling at the feet of very attractive people and the Dom is definitely that. “I did enjoy it,” he confirms. “A lot, actually,” he adds after a moment's thought. He definitely wants to try impact play more, he is weak for it and he isn’t ashamed to admit that. He needs to start learning he doesn’t need to get drunk to have sex with someone. While he knows scenes are a little different they’re still sexual so same thing. “Hm, yes, Sir,” he agrees easily. He removes his clothes slowly before neatly folding them and putting them to one side as instructed. “Oh?” he says when Eric changes his mind on the bondage thing. “Whatever you want you can have,” he says with a smirk before he gets himself into position on Eric.

Eric: Elliot’s weight over his lap is familiar and comforting; something he greatly enjoys. This is always a favourite way to start a scene; the idea of making someone bend over you lap often plays in mild humiliation which he loves and he likes the intimacy that comes with it. He trails his fingers down the Switch’s back and rubs his hand over the curve of his ass. ‘This is important yeah?’ he explains, offering some education since he’s aware this is a new thing for Elliot. ‘Spanking with a hand before you more on to other tools is important because it warms up your skin.’ He brings his hand back and lands a smooth strike across both cheeks. ‘It draws all the blood to the surface of your skin which helps prepare you for some of the pain and also reduces the risk of bruising.’ As he speaks, he continues to strike his ass; he gains confidence as he does so and increases the power behind each slap. The sound reverberates in the room and that’s the only thing better than the heat starting to radiate from his skin. ‘How’re you feeling gorgeous?

Elliot hasn’t been over many laps but he could certainly get used to this. He still doesn’t quite know how to act during a scene his instinct is always to reply with sarcastic, none serious remarks but Eric sounds serious. Although the words that come out of his mouth aren’t, “You just wanted to get your hands on me, Sir.” His voice is teasing and while he understand what Eric is saying and it is helpful because he never knew that before and it’s always nice to learn new things. He welcomes the impacts through, he likes the way they stings. He doesn’t know Eric very well but after their night out he’s decided he likes him, and in this moment he’s liking him a whole lot more. “Good, Sir,” he responses, smiling at the word ‘gorgeous’, it does sound good coming from Eric’s lips.

Eric: ‘Oh, I’m not even going to pretend that I haven’t been itching to get my hands on you.’ he teases right back. It’s a nice development to encourage; yes, a scene should be serious but there’s not reason it can’t be playful and light too. Satisfied with the impression he’s already left on the Switch’s ass, he decides to stop before he gets too distracted. ‘Good boy.’ he praises, rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. ‘On your feet for me; now I get to tie you up exactly the way I want you.’ The shackles are a little heavier than what he’d normally go for but after directing Elliot to hold out his wrists, he secures them in place. He threads a length of rope through, and knots it above his head in order to pull his arms straight above his head. He’s not suspended but it does leave him fully exposed. Standing in front of him, he rests his hands against the Switch’s hips and slowly slides a hand down to palm his crotch. ‘I think it goes without saying that you’re not permitted to cum without my permission.’ he reminds him. ‘I know your task called for a crop and we’ll get to that but I plan on introducing you to a few other tools too.’ He shows him two rubber paddles; one is studded and one has the word slut cut out of it. ‘You get the choice between the two; similar pain level but they’ll leave very different patterns. Which one do you want?’

Elliot: “I knew it,” Elliot replies, satisfied that that’s actual the truth and at the fact he knows he doesn’t have to be oh so serious all the time when doing scenes with Eric, because he does plan on doing more with him and hopes the feeling is mutual. Elliot quickly gets to his feet, enjoying how his ass feels. He finds a mirror to see how red it has gotten just from the Dom’s hand alone and smirks. He’s eager to be tied up, has always known that that would be one of the things he enjoys the most about the whole D/s dynamic. It’s nice, as well, to be doing this with a Dom that seems to know what they’re doing. He sucks in a breath when he feels Eric’s hand on his crotch. Being tied up, restricted, it just gets to Elliot, makes him maybe a little bit too weak at the knees but it’s welcomed. He nods his head. “Yes, Sir,” e says although he’s never been told when he came come so this will be interesting. “That one,” he says pointing to the one that he can see is studded. That definitely looks like it will be fun. “Please,” he adds for good measure, drawing the word out, his tone light and innocent.

Eric: He watches him deliberate and grins when he makes his choice. ‘Good choice gorgeous.’ he grins, setting the other aside. He touches the paddle flat against Elliot’s stomach and slowly drags it over his skin as he moves behind him. The cool metal, he knows from experience, feels great when your skin is starting to just be a little overheated. He looks up, and watches Elliot’s face in the mirror in front of them. ‘Keep your eyes on yourself Elliot. I want you to see just how wonderfully you react.’ he advises before bringing the paddle back and striking it firmly against his ass. He changes his angle and rarely hits the same place twice; the studs are peppering a pattern across his skin and like every time, he finds himself fascinated with how decorated his skin becomes.

Elliot sucks in a breath when he feels the metal along his body, it’s welcomed when he feels the cool metal slide along his ass. “Yes, Sir,” he complies easily. He’s never watched himself in any sexual situation, mostly been too drunk to even remember them, so he lets himself take this one. The narcissistic in him feels like this is long overdue. Plus, he also gets to see Eric in the process. With every strike against his ass, breathy moans and hisses leave his lips, lips that never close, his mouth is gaped open in pleasure. He blinks a few times on impact but every hit is welcomed and his ass stings more and more. He can feel his eyes watering slightly, and he’s getting harder with each blow.

Eric: Elliot’s response is better than he imagined. The sounds that fall from his lips; breathless moans that ask him for more without words having to be exchanged, echo in the otherwise empty room along with the heavy smack of rubber against his skin. ‘Listen to yourself gorgeous.’ he remarks, drawing attention. He’s done with the paddle and he sets it aside and unashamedly gropes Elliot’s vivid red ass between two hands and squeezes roughly. ‘In my opinion, your ass should always look like this.’ He gives another hard swat with his hand. ‘The paddle was definitely a good choice. I think we’ll move on to the crop now.’ He swishes it through the air, letting him hear it before he repeats the motion and strikes his sit spot. ‘A crop is wonderful for delivering slightly more concentrated pain to specific spots.’ he explains, allowing the tip to trail slightly between his cheeks. ‘One of my favourite things to do is make pretty submissives, like yourself, bend over and hold your cheeks apart so I can hit in a much more sensitive area.’ he grins. He moves the crop now between his legs and gives his balls a light tap.

Elliot: “I could get used to you calling me gorgeous,” he says and it’s only then he realises how wrecked his is, they haven’t even gotten to the crop yet and his so hard he can barely think straight, this whole not being able to cum until told thing is probably going to be proven to be a little difficult. All he can hear is himself, though, his moans mixed with the sound of metal hitting his ass and it’s so good. He gasps as Eric’s hand smacks against his reddened ass. “Maybe you should make it your mission to keep my ass red, Sir,” he says in response, looking at Eric directly through the mirror. His face is flushed but it’s not nearly as red as his ass. Every little touch to his ass feels so much more than it would have if the crop hadn’t been used first. “Hmm, want me to put myself more on show for you, Sir?” he asks before a biting down on his tongue gently, a innocent look in his eyes.

Eric: He’s always in awe of people like Elliot; in awe because they take so much and sound beyond incredible during. He doesn’t even have to touch his skin now to feel the heat radiating from it. The Switch’s entire body is flushed, and his eyes darken with lust anew every time he properly takes in the sight of him. He lands a swat against his nipple, and then against the other. He pushes more and lands a swat, albeit a significantly lighter one, against Elliot’s cock. ‘Would you like it if I kept your ass red?’ He teases, trailing the leather tip up and down his length. ‘Be careful what you wish for gorgeous. I may take you up on that suggestion and take you over my lap whenever it suits me, whatever time of day.’ He suggests, picturing the scenario in his head. ‘You’re definitely going to be putting yourself on show for me. We’re going back to my place after this and I’m going to fuck you until you can only moan my name.’ He twists his fingers in his hair and gives a tug, drawing his head up. ‘I’m curious as to what you want more; do you want me to keep going or are you too desperate to cum?’

Elliot: With every touch comes a need to beg for more and he knows it’s going to come to that, begging. The swat to his cock makes him gasps loudly, eyes shutting tightly for a moment. “Fuck,” he moans as he opens his eyes to look at Eric again. “I think I really would,” he tells him. His cock twitches in interest. He’s eager for release but at the same time he’s enjoying this way too much to want it to end just yet. “I think I could handle that, Sir,” he responds, smirking. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn’t, but he definitely wants to find out. He’s never wanted to beg so much in his life and when Eric talks about fucking him, he lets out a breathy moan before letting out a huff of a laugh. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he asks already knowing the answer. Elliot is loving it too, though, so it works. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as the Dom pulls at his hair, he’s definitely a slut for that. He’s always liked being pulling his hair during sex. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, he can barely think straight let alone make a decision, he’s bad at them when he can think straight. He looks at himself, see his hard he is, how flushed he looks and his ass is on fire. “Can I cum?” he asks and as soon as he says it he knows that’s what he wants more. “Please, Sir, imagine me coming, moaning your name as I do, it’ll echo in here.”

Eric: The idea of pulling Elliot over his lap in the middle of the cafeteria or somewhere in a hallway, where anyone could watch, was now burned into his brain and something he had every intention of following through with. ‘I am loving every second of this gorgeous. What’s not to love?’ He teases, swatting the crop lightly and quickly against his cock. ‘I think you can beg me a little better than that.’ He encourages. The Switch’s voice is raspy and dripping with need and he’s compelled to just push him a little further. He wants him to give himself over completely, to completely fall apart. He continues to smack the leather tip of his crop against Elliot’s skin, striking a nipple, his thigh, his ass. There’s no pattern to where he strikes him, and it’s all for his own pleasure right now. ‘I wonder if I can make you cum without touching your cock.’ He muses with a wink. ‘I’m going to loosen the bondage; I want you to bend over and I’ll draw your arms behind you. The ropes will support you gorgeous; I promise. I’m going to fuck you right here, where you can watch and enjoy the fact that anyone might walk in and see you like this.’

Elliot: “Exactly, Sir; what’s not to love?” He replies, smirking at the Dom. He’s not an idiot he knows he’s an attractive guy and he likes seeing attractive people fall apart for himself so it’s not out there that the same thing is happening here. He wonders if not having his cock touched would be torture but at the same time it could be fun to see if Eric can make him cum without touching it. With how far gone he is, he doesn’t think it’d be impossible. “Yes, Sir,” he replies easily. He follows the order easily and bends over, ready and waiting for this. He’s desperate and needy right now and he wants nothing more than to cum at Eric’s hands, or cock, either way he wants it and if Eric wants him to beg for it he will.

Eric: ‘Good boy.’ he praises, enjoying the fact the Elliot is giving him reason after reason to praise his behaviour. He’s responding so beautifully and he’s confident that this won’t be the last time they do a scene together. This whole experience has been entirely too intoxicating for it to be a one time thing. ‘You’re fucking stunning like this.’ he muses, rubbing his hand back and forth over his ass. He must be positively aching and frankly, that knowledge sends more blood rushing south. He grabs a bottle of lube and turns it upside down, allowing it to run down over his ass. His fingers follow and he takes his time in pressing a single digit in. He doesn’t force anything; just stays consistent until it slips past the tight ring of muscle. He takes his time with him, enjoying the process of stretching his ass; adding a second and eventually a third finger. He’s thrusting inside him now, and curling his fingers deep inside him. ‘You feel so good gorgeous. Convince me you want me cock, convince me your deserve it.’ he teases.

Elliot honestly loves hearing people complimenting him, loves knowing when people find him attractive and the fact it’s coming from Eric, who is ridiculously hot, is even better. “Hmm, thank you, Sir,” he replies.The cool lube on his ass is so welcoming and he practically melts as it runs down his ass. The switch is so turned on that there’s no issues with him taking each finger the Dom gives him, with each stretch and movement inside of him, he practically whimpers. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he grits out but there’s no real menace behind it, he wants to fall apart at Eric’s hands. “Please fuck me, Sir, I’ve been such a good boy, you keep saying so, I deserve it,” his voice is low, he’s breathing heavily and the desperation is clear in his voice. “I want you, Sir, my cock is aching for you, it’s so hard for you, only you, Sir.”

Eric: If he hadn’t been planning to fuck him then and there, the way he started to plead would have convinced him. His neediness was evident the moment he parted his lips to speak and that was exactly where Eric wanted him. He pulled Elliot’s ass back and ground his clothed crotch against him, allowing him to feel how hard he was and providing himself with a little relief. He made short work of pushing his pants down, and rolling a condom over his length; a low groan escaping his lips. He gave his ass another hard swat for no other reason other than he could, and he spread his cheeks apart. ‘Fuck.’ He breathed, drinking in the sight of him. He looked incredible and he knew the Switch knew it. He pushed forward, nudging the head of his cock against his hole. He rolled his hips forward slowly, inching inside him and he didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed. He grunted. He held himself like that for a beat, allowing Elliot to adjust to the additional stretch and then pulled back. He found a rhythm, starting off relatively slow and steady. He rolled his hips forward hard, enjoying the heavy sound of skin smacking against skin.

Elliot watches every movement from the Dom through the mirrors, eyes unable to tear away from him. He bites down on his bottom lip, watching as Eric put the condom on. Anticipation hangs in the air as he waits for what he’s been needing for what feels like a lifetime. As he feels Eric push in, his body easily accepts it, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels himself get full. He easily adjusts to the feeling of being full and pushes his ass back, even though Eric couldn’t get further inside him if he tried. When Eric starts to move, the whimpers and groans that escape the switch’s lips can’t be helped. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Elliot says between the grunts, his voice rough as he speaks.

Eric: If being attracted to someone’s voice was a thing, that was what Eric would say he was feeling in that moment. Elliot’s voice sounded incredible. It was rough, raspy and words only seemed to slip out between noises that sent blood rushing south. ‘You were made to take cock weren’t you gorgeous?’ He grunts. The noises he’s making are almost animalistic. His grip tightens on Elliot’s hips and he pulls him back to meet every forceful thrust. He looks up, watching the Switch’s expressions twist in the reflection of the mirror. His whole body is flushed, the room smells of sex and sweat and Elliot feels gloriously tight around his cock. He changes his angle, pressing deeper inside the man and brings a hand down to roughly squeeze his ass. This is all about immediate desire and pleasure; and he loses himself in the ecstasy of it.

Elliot couldn’t think straight, he could barely speak at this point. He tries to respond to Eric but nothing really comes out excerpt for a muffled string of nonsense mixed with moans. When the angel changes, Elliot’s whole body seems to vibrate, he’s one step away from falling apart. “fuck,” he hisses out, voice wrecked. At the squeeze to his sore ass, he lets out a hiss of pleasure, eyes squeezing shut for a second. He gasps and lets out a loud moan. Heat pools in his stomach, his cock twitches and his breath comes out short, mixed with groans and a moan of the Dom’s name as he cums.

Eric: His own orgasm hits him hard shortly after Elliot’s, and in his hazy state, he can’t find it in himself to admonish the Switch for not asking direct permission before he came. It’s a conversation for later and right now, his focus is on pushing them both through waves of pleasure, ensuring they ride out every last second. He catches his breath and gives a breathless chuckle. ‘Fucking hell gorgeous.’ He pulls out as gently as he can, ties the condom off and tosses it in the trash can. He moves around to Elliot’s front, and cups his cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth lightly. ‘You were incredible Elliot.’ He praises warmly, ‘How’re you feeling?’

Elliot’s whole body feels weak and lifeless after they’ve come ridden through their orgasms. He could probably drop to the floor and sleep for about a month after that. He’s breathing heavily, his chest raising and falling with every breath, it echoes around the empty room, mixing with the heavy breaths coming from Eric. He lets out a breathless laugh at the words because true. “I know,” he agrees. “You were just as good, Sir,” he replies, smiling at the Dom. He definitely needs to start having sex sober more often, he thinks to himself. “I’m good, more than good. Ass is sore and I just nearly died from an orgasm, not sure it can get much better than that,” he answers, smirking slightly. “How are you feeling?”

Eric: He laughs at his description, and shakes his head. ‘That would be the first time I’ve nearly killed someone with an orgasm.’ He teases. ‘You’ve made quite the mess haven’t you?’ He remarks, nodding towards the white ropes decorating his chest, and the little that’s ended up on the floor. ‘I’m feeling great.’ He answers, tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning up. ‘I’m gonna untie you now yeah; let your arms down very slowly and just kneel for me.’ He instructs. ‘I’m gonna clean up a bit and then we’re going to back to my place. He did as he explained, and took some time to massage his wrists, and along his arms with firm, intentional fingertips. While Elliot kneels, He repacks everything into his bag, haphazardly and quickly; everything can be properly cleaned and cared for later. He cleans up any evidence of them having been there, and produces a robe for Elliot. ‘It’s up to you if you want to get dressed now or not. Most people I scene with tend to prefer to remain naked or wear this, because it’s easy, light and it really doesn’t matter if it gets ruined.’ He explains. ‘What do you want gorgeous?’

Elliot: “Glad I could be your first, then,” he replies, smirking. He lets out a huff of a laugh at the Dom’s words, shrugging his shoulders. “The messier the better, I say.” Elliot knows as soon as he’s untied his arms are going to feel like jelly considering how long they have been restrained for so he’s a little prepared when it actually happens. He feels weak but it’s a good sort of weak. “Okay, Sir,” he says before he groans quietly when Eric starts to massage him. As he’s kneeling he looks around the empty room, wonders how long they’ve been there and how loud they were being, although he’s not bothered if anyone did hear them. “Yeah, I’ll take it, thank you, Sir.”