Always Reach for Greatness

Admiral Dani🪴she/her🌿36🪺panromantic🌹🍈demisexual🍉My muse is a royal pain in the sass🥭Asks open

[literatureatthebowofnails]

Masterlist

Started: 2.9.22

Last updated: 3.23.25

Completed works: 7

Ongoing: 1

Planned: 1

So far, it's mostly Loki. Happy to expand to other characters/fandoms. Challenge me to write one-offs about your favorites and I'll happily oblige. 😘

Series

Duchess - Loki Ongoing

Fourteen Doses of Delirium Drabble Series -Loki Completed for 14 Days of Valentines Community Project, hosted by @muddyorbsblr

One-Offs

Excerpts from Odin's A+ Parenting Handbook Completed

Sanctuary From the Storm...coming soon

Lyrics

Reindeer Games - Loki

Beastiality - Gaston

Itsy Bitsy Spiderman - Peter Parker

Florida Man

Art

Midgard Rules with @silver-tongued-bby for Tear You Apart

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Readers are coming to my house tomorrow for the monthly reader hangout so I need to hurry up and start reading a book tonight so I'll have a book to talk about

[kactusnz]

time to break another microwave

[unheardoracle]

I love characters who are like "I'm a terrible person" but when you look closer it's more like

"I adapted to survive something and now I don't know how to stop being that version of myself."

[prokopetz]

"This fic is literally just porn, why do you care about the quality of the editing" unfortunately, both my brain and my dick have strong opinions about verb tenses.

[eternally-conflicted]

You severely underestimate the effect of typos and incorrect tenses on my libido

[literatureatthebowofnails]

How medics enter the ER - Spiderman edition w/ @sasha_emiri

Wtf Frank? And what's Banner's problem?

[mischiefmaker615]

Hostage Prince

Summary: When taking a hostage, you really should have learned who exactly you were messing with.

Rating: R (Dub Con(?))

Requester: @lelliefant (Thank you so much darling for the request and storyline inspiration!!)

You shifted a little uncomfortably as you sat across the way, trying not to make eye contact with the prisoner before you while the carriage mildly tousled you about under the forest terrain. 

‘’Why couldn't you have picked a route less rocky?” you heard one of your female companions complain outside, having made the choice to ride one of the spare horses while you were left on babysitting duty. 

‘’It's not rocks, it's just a shit ton of overgrown treestumps and as i told you, you was the fastest route,’’ your male comrade grumbled, being placed in charge of driving the carriage but something told you his driving wasn't that good and was only blaming the environment.

‘’It was, when you hadn't lost the map.’’

‘’I didn't lose it, we were in a rush and it.. It.. got away from me somehow-’’

‘’What rush!? I thought we went over this plan a thousand times where we were to be sure not to lose anything- ambush the prince, get him in the carriage and go about our merry way before the guards would even notice-’’

‘’Oh sure, make it sound SO simple- as if you knew the man had magic the whole time.’’

‘’Well YOU were suppose to get the handcuffs on him, now we’re left with no map, nightfall is right around the corner and Y/N still needs the frickin bandage you decided to leave behind at camp-’’

The two of them continued to bicker while you held back the urge to roll your eyes, honestly debating on using your own magic to heal the cut on your arm if it wouldn't drain you so much. You needed all your energy to do your job, and to keep this prisoner stable- you couldn't afford any distractions, so your wound was going to have to wait.

Raising your eyes from your lap, you almost got startled to find the prince having been staring at you for.. Who knows how long and the slight smirk on his face indicated he was perhaps finding the argument outside amusing- and your scare.

‘’I can heal that for you, if you’d like.’’ 

You put on a glare with your arms crossed, as if to hide what one of his daggers had done when all three of you had jumped him on his horse. ‘’No thanks.’’

‘’It’s pretty deep. If you’d like to guard me more successfully, you should rid of that distraction.’’ he almost seemed to mock, let alone read your mind as your eyes returned to him and narrowed. 

‘’And let you out of your cuffs? I don’t think so. I’ve had wounds far worse than this.’’ you snapped back, hoping to make him think that what damage he’s done would make him feel weak on top of now being a hostage. 

‘’I’m sure you have, but your constant fidgeting is getting to be annoying.’’ he smirked smugly and you straightened your spine. 

‘’You're in no position to be making demands here-’’ you snap, stopping yourself from giving the full reaction he clearly was searching for and settling back down. ‘’Your the hostage, and the sooner-’’

‘’Am I?” he smirked.

‘’Yes, and the sooner we get to camp, the sooner we can work on getting rid of you so i don't have to annoy you again as much as you’re annoying me.’’ you said sarcastically and turned your gaze back to the small window as if the conversation was over.

‘’On the contrary, I find this whole situation absolutely amusing. I’d have to thank you all handsomely for curing me of my boredom.’’ Loki said slyly and you sideeying him, watching how his eyes began to wonder your form and you self consciously crossed your legs- as if it would hide something.

‘’The only thing you’ll be giving us handsomely is the reward when your disappearance is notified.’’ 

The sudden laugh Loki gave had you look back at him, hesitating to bother if you should question him or not on what was so funny. He took your glare as the same and recovered by settling back in his chair as if it was the most comfortable place in the world right now. ‘’You think that because I am the prince of Asgard, the All Father will give you a reward for my return? Asgard already has its chosen prince and the way they see it, you’ve done them all a favor by ridding them of the snake.’’

You furrowed your brows, looking at him as if you could see his bluff. ‘’..you find yourself not worthy of being rescued?”

Loki raised a brow with a grin. ‘’I never said I needed rescuing darling.’’

There was a pause in the air, almost as if there were something unspoken that needed to be addressed and it made your body tense. The way he was smirking at you, indicating he may know something you didn't, and it had your fingertips tingling. Luckily for you, the carriage seemed to come to a stop, bringing your attention back to the window where your friend came into view on Loki’s horse as the distraction you needed. 

‘’We got a little chink in the front wheel. Genius over here claims he can fix it so I'll be taking the horses for water not too far away. You’ll be okay for a sec?” 

You gave Loki a dry look who now had been staring out his own window with disinterest, and you scoffed, looking back over to your friend and nodded. ‘’Yeah i’ll be fine.’’ you said confidently and she gave you a nod before trotting off.

Once the two of you were alone, Loki’s eyes wandered back to you with a smirk and a seductive glint in his eye. ‘’My my, aren't we confident.’’

You huffed and waved an unbothered hand at him. ‘’You don’t scare me snake.’’

Loki raised a brow in amusement, looking you over as if you were the one who had been under the rock this entire time. ‘’Merely a benefit amongst it all. Is your troupe even from this realm?”

You stiffened and looked away from him. ‘’That's something you don’t need to know. We know enough to know who we’re dealing with.’’

Loki smirked and looked back towards the window. ‘’Perfect.’’

~

The entire time until the trip began again, Loki either was eye fucking you or rebutling your comments to stop it just to rile you up. Honestly- you expected a spoiled rich brat, but not a.. Pervert. 

On top of it all, your wound was getting much more irritable and began to affect your whole arm. You subtly tried shifting and rotating your shoulder before you had to just finally give up and quietly raised your free hand, beginning to heal it. After about a full two minutes, the pain came back as if you hadn't touched it at all. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you caught Loki’s eye who had been watching the entire time with amusement.

‘’You are doing it wrong.’’ he said simply and you turned your body a little as if to hide it from his eyes.

‘’You’re doing it wrong.’’ you said defensively, a stupid comment indeed considering he had done nothing- nor will- while you distracted yourself by kneading at the muscle around it.

‘’You need to focus your enchantments on the blood cells, not the flesh layers.’’ he noted, his eyes watching your arm while you glanced at him.

‘’..and how would you know that?” you demanded before his eyes lifted towards yours with a smirk.

Furrowing your brows, his irises suddenly flashed green before you felt a tingling right at your wound. Flinching, you looked down just to see your flesh pull together and close like it were good as new. Your eyes widened and body tensed, looking back up at the prince who looked relaxed while you on the other hand looked defensive. 

‘’How did you do that??” you demanded and raised in your seat as if he were going to attack next.

‘’It's a simple spell darling, which I find quite amusing just how long it was taking you to even focus on the affected area. Your Seidr was quite all over the place and it seems to me that you are only gifted at healing- and hilariously bad at it.’’ he almost seemed to scold and laugh while your eyes looked him over before glancing at his cuffs. 

‘’But.. You’re hands were tied and-’’

‘’Perhaps you don’t know exactly who you're dealing with after all.’’ he said smugly and you tensed.

Just how dangerous was this man.. If he could do that without hardly lifting a finger.. Did you have enough people to truly hold him? I mean.. You all managed to overpower him and find yourselves in this position in the first place.. Surely he hadn't been toying with you the entire time and let you take him.. Right? He was good at reading people, you’d give him that.. But you hoped at least he thought you as weak so he wouldn't expect anything if you needed to attack him. For example, you had a knife strapped to your thigh but hidden with your satchel resting right on top. If he saw you as only a healer, he was sorely mistaken..

Looking back at him right now, he stared out the window in a relaxed state, almost as if enjoying a calm ride on the countryside rather than being taken back to camp to try to be ransomed. You hardly knew of him, truly.. He was the second prince of Asgard- so you could only assume his people would have been faithful towards him if he were in need of rescuing.. All this could have been a bluff when he said you did Asgard a favor. 

He was the god of mischief, you knew that.. But you could only assume it were merely harmless pranks, not enough to bring forth chaos and destruction to truly make him a  threat.. If he was, why the Hel would he be welcomed in the palace? However.. Thinking about it now.. This all seemed way to.. Easy… 

Your body tensed as you watched his side profile, your eyes narrowing while you got the shudder down your spine again. Something wasn't right.. 

He turned his head a little, side eyeing you as if he had sensed you watching him and you noticed the corner of his mouth turned up.

Fuck..

Lunging towards the carriage door handle, a hand suddenly snatched up your wrist and yanked you back, causing you to land on something upright while another hand came into view to press against your mouth. Your hand rises quickly to yank at the wrist, mumbling curse words and cries in hopes your friends will take notice before your other hand moves to your side, wanting to sit yourself up before feeling your hand touch down on a thigh.

Oh gods.. You were sitting on his lap-

Your cries restarted when the hand against your mouth pulled you back enough for your back to rest against his chest and your legs began to kick out at nothing. How the Hel had he gotten free from the cuffs!? Unless he never truly needed them..

‘’You think yourselves clever, but like I've said before, you should know exactly who you’re dealing with.’’ he hissed against your ear, clearly adopting a tone that said he was over this little game while you struggled more in his lap.

Unfortunately for you, your wiggling might have been giving him the wrong impression and immediately began to feel a particular situation begin to grow right underneath you.

‘’I do not plan on harming you, so long as you cooperate, are we clear?” he asked firmly and you glared, staring at the window in front of you while your limbs began to cease their struggles but remained no less tense. 

You still had the knife at your thigh- but your free hand would have to cross over your lap and get it, a movement he most likely would see and you’d make it too obvious. If you cooperated enough, maybe he’d drop his guard enough for you to snatch it.. After taking a moment, you nodded, only to whimper when you felt his grip on your wrist tighten.

‘’Do not lie to me quim, do not mistake me for a gentleman just because I've healed your wound. I can bring it back just as quickly and add a few more if you plan on disobeying.’’ he threatened, his warm breath fanning your ear, making you shiver and squeeze your eyes shut.

He most likely wanted to negotiate because you probably would have been dead by now if that was his plan. If negotiation was on the table, then perhaps you still had a chance at overpowering him if his guard dropped. Giving another nod and willing yourself to relax more, he must have sensed you weren't going to lie again and removed his hand from your mouth- however, he kept his hand still firmly around your wrist and the other falling to your hip to make you stay.

‘’Let me go..’’ you demanded in a hushed whisper, hating how your cheeks began to grow red while you made to get up, just for him to press you back down on his lap firmer.

‘’You are in no position to make demands darling,’’ he smirked, quoting your words and you wanted to lash out at him right then and there. For your better judgement for now, you remained still.

‘’What is it you want?” you asked instead, trying to ignore his constant throb under you while you kept your face pointed straight ahead.

You could feel Loki chuckle against you, causing you to glare straight ahead as if he were laughing at you. ‘’I wish nothing from any of you. You came to me, remember?”

‘’So.. Why not just escape?” you offered the obvious, biting your bottom lip when you felt him shift beneath you. As clear as his voice sounded, he might be going through some eternal discomfort and you prayed it would stop hardening by each shift.

‘’Where’s the fun in that? Besides,’’ his grip tightened again and your body tensed. ‘’You have my horse.’’

‘’..look- we can give it back, let me just stop the carriage and-’’

‘’Give you an opportunity to request assistance from your friends? I’m truly not in the mood for that type of nuisance a second time- as amusing as it was, and besides, what help are you in need of when you are clearly capable of defending yourself?” 

His mock made your brows furrow and you looked over your shoulder at him, your stomach dropping to find his face closer than expected where the tip of your nose brushed against his. Red cheeked, you quickly looked straight ahead once more and hoped your voice didn't shake too much.

‘’I never said i needed-’’

‘’Come now darling, I know your intention. As soon as I loosen my grip or perhaps grant the impression that my guard is down, you’ll snatch at that punitive knife and attempt to show me a much better skill i hope than your magic.’’

His sarcasm made you grit your teeth and your body move into action, indeed snatching at the knife before his hand freed your hip and grabbed your wrist. Now having both your hands confiscated, you struggled in his grip before knowing you’d have to suck up your dignity and call for help. This man was extremely fast at predicting you and in an instant, the moment you drew in a breath, you had both your wrists pinned behind your back with a hand now clasped over your mouth. 

‘’You should be almost grateful you're dealing with me darling. Any other person might have killed you with such skills you have on display. Is that why your comrades did most of the work in assisting me in?” he smirked and you struggled more, mumbling profanities you're sure he could understand regardless before a green shine caught your attention before the pressure at your thigh lessened slightly.

The bastard took your knife!

‘’You’ve asked me what I wanted, yes?” Loki smirked, sounding much more calm as if he had a ‘lets get started’ ordeal in mind and you didn't dare move when his cock throbbed again beneath you. ‘’How about an exchange? I ensure none of you are harmed, especially having threatened a royal which could lead to treason, possibly banishment, possibly death. In exchange for fixing the problem you have caused.’’

Your brows furrowed and your body relaxed a little, hoping he caught the hint that you were willing to cooperate if he was simply willing to negotiate. Luckily he did, and hovered his hand at your mouth instead, allowing you to draw a proper breath before speaking.

‘’You can just leave, i promise we won’t-’’

‘’Not the problem for having captured me darling, no, that was quite intentional.’’ he smirked and you tensed a little.

So he let himself get caught.. Of course.. You knew it all had been too easy.. Perhaps he gets off of messing with people, making them think they have the upper hand and what not. Mischief, as he would say and screwed to the others. So what problem was there left to fix-

‘’I am referring to the newly given problem you have been provoking me with right underneath you.’’ His voice got deeper with a hushed tone, his hips raising just enough to press deeper against your ass to indicate what problem he was wanting you to fix.

A big problem.

Your eyes widened and you began to struggle. ‘’You’ve got to be jok-’’

‘’It is also treason to refuse a royal, mind you. And if you are to claim you are not of our realm, well then, trespassing it punishable as well.’’ he was clearly amused at the corner he’s backed you into, even so much as leaning forward to rest his chin upon your shoulder in hopes to see the look on your face.

You were.. frightened. The man was everything intimidating, even if you had thought of him as weak when taking him hostage. He had been in control the entire time.. Your eyes began to squeeze shut, as if trying to concentrate on what to do before you felt his hand begin to leave your mouth, his fingertips ghosting along your cheekbone before running down your neckline seductively.

‘’There’s also your friends to worry about.. I would hate for them to face a punishment you could have very much gotten them out of..’’ he purred and traced a finger along your collarbone. 

In retrospect, you hardly knew how aroused your body had gotten until he had brought your attention to the subject. His throbbing below you mixed with how bumpy the trip was beginning to get in the carriage was definitely a concoction for the inevitable answer. You had even begun to shift in his lap, trying to rid of your discomfort but ultimately beginning to stimulate yourself- in which you stopped immediately. 

Loki seemed to take notice, purposefully sounding even more seductive in his whispers while turning his face closer to your neck, the tip of his nose ghosting against your flesh before his fingertips began to decent down, making a small trail against your form and between your breasts before heading down to your nether regions. 

Even with clothes on, his touch cast the illusion as if they weren't almost making you think he was using magic again. Your struggles had ceased and you knew he was able to feel your shaking while your eyes closed shamelessly. 

‘’Quite the sharp tongue but quite bashful when hushed.. Sweet thing..’’ he hummed and pressed his lips softly against your neck, nuzzling closer while a shiver ran down your spine. ‘’Perhaps you’ve been needing this far longer than i have..’’

‘’They.. She might s-see-’’ you whispered, biting your bottom lip when he cut your words off with his tongue giving a slow lap below your ear.

‘’So what if she does? After all, you’re doing this for their survival. If she’s intrigued enough, perhaps she could join,’’ Loki smirked and you opened your mouth to rebuttal but he brought you back down to his spell when his hand suddenly cupped your clothed sex, causing what words that began to cut off and made you gasp. 

Your pants were the tighter model and with his fingers beginning to massage against your center, the material began to feel thinnier and thinner the more he drew you in. 

‘’If you are clearly trying to avoid getting unclothed for me darling, then all you have to do..’’ he whispered, his fingers beginning to knead softly at that bundle of nerves that had your legs shaking before his hand disappeared entirely. ‘’Is hump..’’

Your eyes fluttered, your breathing having gotten light as you looked down to see his hand curved in a way with his fingers curled in front of your sex. He was right indeed that if you were to start humping, not only would your ass grind against his hardened bulge but you’d press forward against his fingers, stimulating yourself when you slid near. 

Your cheeks heated up quickly, mouth gawking at the embarrassing request while your body screamed for its pleasure back. You could hear the bastard hum with a smirk before suddenly his hips lifted while his hand- still holding into your wrists- pushed you forward, sliding you down his lap and against his bulge where he groaned in pleasure before you pressed up against his fingers, pressing pressure against your clit before his knees rose again, making you slide back against his bulge but you leaned forward to not lose balance, pressing your clit now into his lap to continue its stimulation. You let out a small moan, having to admit it indeed feels good and how it was an utter betrayal to your troupe outside..

But it was to save their lives..

‘’Understand?” Loki murmured against your neck, catching it with his teeth to prevent you from leaning away, almost how a cat would while you hesitated. 

For your friends… nothing else, right?

‘’..y-yes..’’ you whispered, shivering when Loki’s teeth left you and licked at the love bite before moving on to leave open mouth kisses somewhere else.

‘’Good girl.. Go ahead..’’ he smirked, keeping his legs still while you bit your bottom lip and felt shy. 

Firmly planting your feet, you used your legs to pull you forward, grinding down against his clothed cock and heard him moan gently in your ear before you followed suit when your cunt found his fingers. The only way you’d be able to chase yours, is to get a bit faster with that constant stimulation. Pushing back on your feet, you ground down and your clit rubbed against his bulge again, earning a small buck from Loki’s hips before he gave a breathy praise.

‘’That's it darling.. You’ve got it..’’ he whispered.

You hated to admit it, but his praise almost made you feel good, like it was a source of power where you did it once more, your eyes fluttering at the sensation before pushing back. You did that slowly, feeling how things began to coil and build up slowly into your lower pelvis while Loki continued to encourage you with words and praise. 

You hated to admit it.. But he was attractive, you first noted this when you had seen him before the take down. You always heard stories of the tyrant amongst the palace, and although you did not necessarily know the severity of his mischief, one could say they would let their guard down pretty quickly upon seeing him. 

You almost hated being turned away from him but perhaps it was better this way considering he'd probably jump at the chance at noting how red your cheeks were or how blown your pupils were beginning to get as the lust began to glaze over. Even his words alone were getting you there and yet you were the one put in charge of moving. 

Your thighs began to shake while your lower lip trembled, hardly able to speak now except low moans and whimpers while your body began to take over. At one point, you hardly realized his hand had released your wrists before you felt that familiar grip on your waist, squeezing and helping to guide you back and forth while the other hand continued to hit its mark when you’d move forward. 

Your bodies moved at a faster pace now, how Loki would strain at his need to take over and now and again would buck his hips up to meet you more before his hand would plant you stronger so you wouldn't be thrown off. Your feet damn near pushed you off as you slid yourself back constantly while your hands were now able to grasp at his thighs, barely getting momentum from the fabric but instead tried to stabilize yourself by gripping onto his muscle. 

‘’You're doing so well for me darling.. I can tell that you're close.. Practically dripping..’’ he purred, giving your ear lobe another nip and enjoyed watching you shiver when you would move away, just to slide back into his trap once again. 

‘’I’m..’’ you breathed out, hardly able to call upon coherent words while his hand began to move up to slide under your shirt, gently massaging and kneading one of your globes while your pleasure continued to build.

Even his scent had taken over your senses, almost leaving you in an intoxicating state where you almost wondered if it was a spell in itself. Pine and masculinity is what it reminded you of and its aroma enveloped you whenever you would draw near. 

‘’Perhaps you’ve earned yourself a place in the palace darling. You have quite the skillset and I know we can get a handle on your healing abilities with some.. Close.. One on one.. training..’’ he whispered with a smirk and your eyes fluttered open.

Go.. with him? Leave your friends- the life of thievery and struggle.. How could you-

Loki sensed your mind wondering and both his hands now planted themselves on your waist, hardly being able to hold back now before you let out a small whimper, now being manhandled enough where he was now swiping you forward and back against his cock that was just as desperate for release as you were. 

Your pleasure instantly took over, drowning such thoughts away while that coil drew nearer and nearer to that wonderful cliff it desperately wished to fall from. By the way Loki was groaning now, you could tell it was just a race for either one of you and you dug your nails into his legs more while your bottom lip got captured between your teeth.

‘’I’m.. I’m..’’ you gasped, your head falling back with your eyes fluttering before he held you firmly down against his lap, a hand sliding between your thighs to grasp your sex with a thumb precisely at your swollen bud.

‘’Cum for me..’’

Like magic- your orgasm wasn't over you like a wave, Loki’s other hand reaching around to hold your mouth shut just in time so the others outside wouldn't hear exactly what had happened. Your pleasure was blinding, your body damn near convulsing while his hand rubbed between your thighs, helping lengthen and ride out your orgasm as you practically humped him still. 

Perhaps you hadn't heard his own sounds of pleasure because of yours, but you felt him lean forward and press his forehead against you, heavy pants leaving his lips before his hand on you slowly began coming to a stop. The two of you stayed still, catching your breaths while you tried to float back down to reality, but for some strange reason.. A need to get closer to him came over you- but you stopped yourself short with whatever will you had left. 

With a heavy sigh, Loki leaned back in his chair, his hands lazily draping around your waist before his head fell back with his eyes shut. 

You bit your bottom lip again, unsure if the wetness below you was mostly from him, or mostly from you.. Both? But either way, neither of you cared about the mess right now. You turned your head a little over your shoulder, looking over his still form with redness creeping over your features.

Did.. did you really just do that?

With his eyes still shut, the corner of Loki’s mouth turned up with a smirk, as if knowing you were watching him. ''You've done well darling..’’

Your brows furrowed, unsure how to exactly feel about that while your cheeks continued to redden. Dare you admit you were feeling.. Good? Shaking your head, you made to get up but his hands instantly gripped onto your hips, pulling you back down onto his lap and keeping you there.

‘’Let go-’’

‘’Do you honestly think we were done?” Loki smirked while you grasped his hands, threatening to try to pry them off but your hands just.. Stayed there..

‘’I did as you asked.. You are to keep my friends safe so.. We’re done-’’

Loki’s hands gripped you tighter, making you whimper and instead of pain, a reminder of what you did just minutes ago within his same grip came to mind. ‘’We’re done when I say we’re done. We have quite the bit of journey to still cover and something tells me you’ve very much like to indulge in each other again,’’ his smirk make you look straight ahead, glaring at the wall while hating how confused you were getting.. And flustered.

‘’Journey? You.. don’t want to escape now?” 

‘’And walk the rest of the way? I’m a prince darling, and rather enjoy your little.. Escort.’’ he teased and you tensed.

‘’What makes you think we’re heading back to the-’’

‘’Your little hideout is quite close enough to the palace darling. Quite close enough, I was able to see you quite well from the palace balcony. So, I decided to go on a little ride this very morning, just to save you some time at seeking me out. Now, I do believe a trip back will service.’’

He.. he knew.. He knew from the start- he could frickin see you all?? From that distance?! Your head looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes, truly trying to figure out exactly who you were dealing with as the Snake’s smile got wider.

‘’And brace yourself darling.. This part of the road tends to get rough..’’

AO3

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @westwindrhapsody @lulubelle814 @angelofthorr @lolathecorso @literatureatthebowofnails

[literatureatthebowofnails]

Never try to trick thee trickster

[mischiefmaker615]

One-shot idea: You find yourself somehow transported to Loki’s cell in the Asgard dungeon with no idea how you got there. Once Loki determines that you’re not a threat, he uses illusions to hide you from prying eyes and, well, there’s nothing more dangerous than a bored god of mischief. 😈

Title: One Wish Willow

Rating: DARK ELEMENTS! (R@pe warning/dub con)

Your body landed on the ground with a thud, disorientating you just a moment before you fluttered your eyes open. 

Right before they shot open. 

The floor was a cold marble, the air even colder. Everything was so bright.. So clean.. So isolated. What stared back at you was a gold gaze of light, humming quietly like one’s air conditioner at home. Each wall seemed to be the same way and it was not at all homey when your gaze squinted through to find a few guards in gold armor posted up throughout the hall.

‘’Welcome to Asgard darling,’’

That voice.. That familiar voice.. Drenched in seduction and trickery.. You already knew who it was before you even spun around, your hand ghosting over your hip as if you still carried your gun on you.

‘’Loki..’’ you seethed, knowing he had to be the one to be behind all this. 

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing his signature colors but in a more comfortable attire such as cloth and leather rather than his battle gear. His hair was a bit longer, less styled than how he had it back in New York- but no less stylish for his taste. His scent intoxicated your senses, even if the two of you stood quite a ways apart that carried a sort of pine and masculinity to it. It almost had your eyes fluttering, just as they had the first time you had smelled him.. But that was a long time ago. 

What stood behind him was a simple bed, a table that had a chalice and a few books upon it. Other than that, the room was bare and what surrounded you both was nothing more than a prison.. Come to think of it, as you dared risk a glance behind yourself, you were indeed in some sort of prison!

Your body tensed, standing in a defense position with your fists now curled like you could stand a chance against the god. Your attire was no less out of place than yourself in this realm- sporting an oversized hoodie and jeans you were hoping to get out of if you hadn't so happen to disappear and teleport realms away from your world.

‘’Wha-.. Where-’’

‘’Asgard darling, as I've stated once before. I see your realm still dulls thy education, truly those creatures hold you back from what could have been your greatest potential.’’ Loki sighed but looked no less amused while you took a step back from him just encase.

‘’Like i said before, i have no intentions on helping you, and if this is your sick joke to try to blackmail me other wise, i would be willing to bet the others are not far behind from retrieving me and making your situation even worse.’’ you threatened, having faith your comrades already knew about this mysterious situation and before you knew it, would bust right in the room and get you out of here.

The look on the prince’s face told you otherwise.

‘’On the contrary dear Y/N, they have no idea of your whereabouts. No one does, actually.’’ he grinned, even having the gull to spread his arms out as if to show you how totally alone the two of you seemed to be in the spacious cell.

You stared at him as if to catch his bluff, but he remained as calm as the grave. Taking another glance around your surroundings again, you debated on shouting at one of the guards, asking for help or at the very least, making your presence known because something told you, Loki had his cell to himself for a reason.

‘’Oh, don’t bother. They will neither hear you nor see you.’’

Loki’s answer had you look back at him to glare, only to see his hand was held up and his Seidr swirled around his fingertips as if to emphasize that his magic had something to do with that.

Great.. Just great..

Drawing in a breath, your mind tried running over options while you looked at him carefully, your heart beginning to pick up even faster. ‘’..i don’t know what you want from me, but it’s not going to-’’

‘’It’s clear you are trying to stall and reason your way out of this Y/N, but let me soothe those hopes right now by saying, you’re quite stuck with me.’’ Loki said simply with almost a shit eating grin, clearly enjoying watching how your brain began to scramble for a way out.

If there was one, he wouldn't be here.. However, there had to be some hope right? I mean.. How did you get here?

His footsteps drawing closer had your mind snap back to reality. ‘’The guards cannot help you. Your friends aren't on their way. No one on your pathetic planet even knows about your disappearance, nor will they ever. I very much suggest you accept this new reality so that we may begin to make things between us.. Easier.’’

‘us?’

His words prodded you like a hot iron at the side, making you eternally cringe while your shoes began to back you up with his same pace. Though his legs were longer, he was getting significantly closer to where you almost tripped backwards, risking a glance behind to find yourself already at the golden, buzzing window you knew better than to touch. You didn't know much about Asgard, but you could bet that one single touch to that energy field will hurt far more to a human than to its people it was made for. 

Drawing in a breath, you glared up at him with the nagging fact that your chin had to dip up just to meet his eyes. ‘’..what do you want? And how did I get here?” you demanded, voice much quieter now as the tip of his shoes grazed yours once he stopped. 

The way his smile grew wider while his eyes seemed to study your face, the more you were actually considering leaning back into the humming wall. His hand came into view, your eyes dropping enough in question before you felt the light brush of his fingertips beginning to caress right under your jaw.

‘’I’ve been waiting for this for quite some time Y/N.. the timing, the calculations, all of it couldn't have been more perfect.. Quite the..’’ his eyes flicked to yours. ‘’Wish come true.’’

You glared at him, showing disgust on your face as he even dared to touch you with your whole body growing rigid. ‘’What are you talking abo-’’

Your words were cut off short when these slender, cold fingers suddenly grasped around your neck, causing your hands to come flying up and try to pry off his. It was a useless task against a god, he hardly seemed to notice your struggling when he began raising his arm, causing your feet to begin lifting off the ground until you were up at eye level with him.

‘’Your going to have to learn your place darling if you are to stay here.’’

‘’B-but i dont w-want to..’’ you struggled out, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to take in a concentrated breath before you felt yourself being brought forward, your chest ghosting up against his as he seemed to inspect you with a smirk.

‘’You have no choice darling, allow me to explain,’’ he suddenly tossed you to the side, causing your body to thunk on the ground once more and slide a little to a stop. 

You winced, pain shooting up your elbow and hip from the impact but more so concentrated on drawing deep breaths of air now that you finally could. This man clearly hadn't changed at all during his solitary confinement. Granted, you wouldn't doubt any one would find themselves pissed being locked up with the idea that they did nothing wrong, but being locked up WITH the person in such a temperament, even made your stomach twist with the realization of how vulnerable you were. 

You and he hardly made contact during his time on earth, but it was enough for him to clearly remember you. It was during the time where SHIELD had him contained- as temporary as it was, and it was your job to conduct the interrogations- including trying it out yourself. 

It was during a frustrating time, and if you would have waited just a bit longer, Romanoff would have gathered what was needed. But in desperate times, that's when you normally went in when all agents failed. You hadn't gathered much info from him, he was quite focused on trying to flirt with you instead, leading up to some choice words with a promise that you would never touch royal rejects like himself until the day you died. 

The smile that followed right after, would be one that would haunt you for the rest of your life, even if you did hear how Thor took him back to Asgard. Now, you were quite facing the day you would die and the possible events that would happen leading up to it scared you the most while your body began to scoot you back away from him as he began walking towards you.

‘’Ah, you remember,’’ Loki smirked, seeming to read your mind while his steps pressed forward like a man who had all the time left in the world. ‘’I’ve looked forward to making a liar out of you.’’

You drew in a shaky breath and brought your eyes up to him. ‘’I’ll never touch-’’

‘’You have no choice darling, or at the very least, can't refuse me.’’ he said with his expression falling into something unreadable while his hand left from behind his back, holding up something you’ve never seen before. 

It looked like a longer, skinny match box with red shapes covering the tan background. If perhaps you were back on earth, you might have mistaken it for a candy bar but at the end of it, had sharp jagged edges as if someone had just broken a piece of it off. It was clear you had no idea what it was and you eyed Loki who looked almost annoyed you didn't know what he was presenting. 

With a condescending sigh, he held it up and looked over it with admiration. ‘’It's one of my oldest party tricks, but nevertheless the most popular when i released a few to you Midgardians.’’ he smirked and eyed you with growing mischief. ‘’Have you ever heard of the One Wish Willow?”

Your brows furrowed, having never seen nor heard of such a thing and grew even more confused that he was presenting it at a time like this. However, it didn't sound like it was going to help you and you figured him being distracted by such a thing could present you a chance at escaping- or at the very least, time to find a weapon.

‘’Never heard of it.’’ you said with pure disinterest while you eyed the furniture over by your side when Loki glanced at the little box admiringly.

‘’Quite a shame, this could grant someone their purest desires, no matter how dark, sick or innocent it is.’’ Loki smiled, his thumb running over it while you slightly scooted towards the little table, freezing when he began looking over and spoke to encourage him to keep distracted.

‘’Sooo like a genie, but just one wish? Everyone knows they don’t exist.’’ you rolled your eyes, only half interested while you took a pause to genuinely look at it. Wasn't something like that.. Impossible?

‘’Many people say the same thing about gods and,.. Well, here I am.’’ Was he making a jest? His smile quite said so, but you gave him a dry look while your mind calculated what to grab first when you found yourself close to the table. Side eyeing him as he looked over the knock off candy bar, your mind suggested grabbing for the chalice.

‘’I've thought long and hard about what to wish for. I hardly had an interest in using one myself, but when I found myself in a..’’ he glanced around. ‘’Particular situation, I was quite presented with the obvious choice.’’

You could feel the muscles in your arms tense, ready to lash out and snatch your only choice of weapon while glaring up at him. ‘’And let me guess, you used it to help with your escape?” 

‘’Doubt me all you want Y/N, but these are very much real.’’ Loki said seriously as he then tossed it into your lap, startling you as you looked down at the thing. ‘’You honestly think I couldn't escape the very realm I grew up in? That be quite a waste indeed.’’ he smirked and watched how you briefly picked it up to look at it. ‘’As for one of your questions, you’ve asked me how you got here..’’

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, tossing the small box aside with no interest and raised your knees up to your chest, looking ready to stand when he took a step forward. ‘’Well I hope you didn't wish for company because i’m the last person who’s going to assist you.’’ you snapped at him but the back of your mind questioned on why exactly you were here.

If he could escape this place like he claimed, why hadn't he? You were inside the cell, not outside, so your assistance proves useless. In any case, why you? There were literally thousands of others who he knew that could have presented better abilities or assistance- even if he had to blackmail- was this really all because you hurt his feelings back when he was captured?!

Your eyes slowly raised to his and the look on his face made your skin crawl, almost as if he were admiring you.. Lovingly?!

Glaring back at him, you cleared your throat and leaned your weight more towards your actual goal- the chalice. 

‘’Perhaps not your idea of assistance.. But very much company indeed.’’ 

His seductive voice had you tense, the both of you being at some sort of stale mate before you drew in a breath. Sharpening his eyes as he seemed to read your mind, his eyes flicked over to the table just as your body tensed up. ‘’Don’t-’’

Your body shot up, ignoring him with the pure adrenaline to get there first before your hand snatched up the metal cup, knocking a few books on the table as you ungracefully spun around and to your feet, then realizing he hadn't made a move to stop you. No matter.. You had a form of protection.. perhaps it was strong enough to knock him in the head or something.. But either way, you stumbled back for new distance.

‘’I don’t know what the Hel you're talking about, nor do I really care. You’re going to magic your way to get me back home, and then I'll think about putting in a good word to my team so we may forget this whole thing ever happened,’’ you explained quickly, pointing the cup at him as if it were your gun in which he just glanced at with an amused expression. 

‘’Y/N, would you like an honest answer or would you like me to show you?” Loki offered, now truly throwing you into confusion, especially as he takes a step forward as if your threat didn't mean shit to him.. Which it probably didn't.

‘’I want to go home- even here you're a prisoner and have no grounds to tell me what to do! Whatever sick game you think this is, it's just going to make things worse for you and-’’ your words got far quieter as he got closer and closer, somehow closing up more distance faster than you had thought where his chest now pressed up against the chalice, continuing until your arm was now beginning to be forced to bend from its straightened position, all while you stumbled back and nearly tripping over yourself.

‘’I told you Y/N, you're stuck with me.’’ he smirked and extended his hand out slowly, taking hold of your wrist before you had the chance to stop him and he pulled you to a stop, pressing the cup to his chest himself to merely tug you closer to him. ‘’Get used to it.’’

‘’S-So what? You wished for me to be here? Why? It’s a waste of a wish- i could merely just leave.. As soon as the guards figure things out, it's.. It’s not literal..’’ you reasoned in a rushed tone, hating how calm he was while you tried wretching your wrist back, finding it strange just how less energy you had to do so. Instead, your grip tightened on the handle, almost as if that was the next thing he would try grasping.

‘’Oh dear Y/N, you hardly even notice it’s already begun,’’ he cooed, his thumb stroking over your wrist’s flesh while you felt a shiver run down your spine. 

Your heart pounded, looking at your hands to him, to your hands again, as if trying to believe what you were seeing- the audacity of him touching you! Gritting your teeth, your free hand suddenly moved and took hold of the chalice from your other, bringing it up with such force, there’d be no way the guards wouldn't be able to hear the clank of the uppercut you were about to deliver! 

Just before it could make contact with his jaw, your hand came to a stop. 

Did you freeze? No.. there’s no way you would have held back.. This son of a bitch deserves every ounce of this! Taking a deep breath, you quickly tried again before he could think twice on moving away- but that's the thing.. same result happened, and just like the first time, he didn't move an inch. In fact, the bastard’s smile got wider and wider the more you looked panicked and kept drawing back the chalice, just to swing it and have it stop a mere inch away from his body.

‘’Wha..’’ your eyes grew wide, panic and confusion running through your body while the prince’s hands slowly moved to rest behind his back, as if to give you a mock chance at trying again. 

Glaring, you tensed your leg with full intention on ramming into his balls- but it’s as if your brain knew exactly what you were intending and you couldn't even move your foot off the ground. You dropped the chalice, swinging an open hand this time right towards his face, but same thing. Your leg, same thing. Your other arm- Hel, even shoving forward to headbutt him-

Same thing.

Nothing. 

All while he continued smiling and even held back a chuckle while you looked more and more frustrated while you were getting closer and closer to screaming. Why couldn't you hurt him?

You looked more like an idiot- flinging your limbs around just to have them stop before you could touch him. WHAT THE HEL?!

‘’Wa.. Why can’t i…’’ your words trailed off when you realized there was a shake to them and the sight of Loki’s hand raising up made your eyes grow wider upon realizing just how much power he had and you had nothing.. 

Was he going to hit you? Hurt you? Have a turn now that you clearly couldn't land a blow? Your body noticeably got tenser as his hand raised but his expression seemed to grow softer, that look of someone loving returning to his face. You hardly had any time to react when that hand gently brushed across your cheek before sliding his fingers into your hair, giving a firm grip before suddenly yanking your face forward to collide your mouth onto his own. 

His eyes were closed, moaning instantly at the immediate taste of you and your heart beat a million times faster. What was worse? Your body wasn't cooperating when you tried to will it to back away, not even turn your head or even bite his lip off as he continued to run his tongue at your entrance before forcing its way into your mouth as far as it could. 

Your yelp only sounded like a high pitch moan while you felt his chest now up against yours, his other hand snaking around your waist to tug you even firmer against him before you were aware of something hard pressing up against your pelvis. 

And still, you couldn't move.

Well.. yes, you could move- you raised your hands in fact with the intent to push him hard in the chest away but they merely rested against it instead. It’s not like you were enjoying his administrations- as skillful as he was-, for some reason, your body just couldn't cooperate and hurt him!

Perhaps your sounds of frustration finally got to his ears after he had been busy tongue fucking your mouth, maybe he couldnt hear you over his own moans, maybe he didnt care, or maybe he just finally needed to breath, but he FINALLY pulled away but his lips hovered a mere inch away from yours.

‘’Are you finally understanding now darling?” he grinned, his voice breathy with the heavy heat of lust.

‘’Wha.. What did you do to me? Why can’t i-’’

‘’Hurt me? That’s the thing darling, you can’t.’’ he smirked and suddenly released your hair, pressing his hand now to your chest to give you a firm shove backwards so that you’d land on his bed he must have turned you both towards. 

You bounced on the mattress and scrambled to sit up on your elbows, tensing when his body moved to stand before you. You glared at him, ignoring the heat in your cheeks from the mind buzzing you could feel against your lips and went to scoot away from him instead once a knee joined the mattress.

‘’W-what are you talking about?” you stuttered, all sarcasm and hate having taken a pause to now leave you feeling actually worried about the situation at hand here. 

His hand effortlessly caught your ankle, leaning his body forward onto the mattress so that by the time he yanked you towards him, you were already right under him. He looked at you with a shit eating grin, finally relishing in his victory on.. whatever he had done to get you like this and your hands extended out to push at his shoulders, only being able to rest them.

‘’I could have hurt you darling, I could have hurt many others. But I got to thinking about what I wanted my wish to be. A throne? Perhaps, revenge? Maybe. And then my mind began to wonder back to those times where I found myself in that cell, being subjected to interact with those mindless mortals until i finally got you to come to me yourself.’’ 

Your body tensed and you held your breath when his eyes began to wander over you, lightly biting his bottom lip as if wondering where to start first. His eyes flicked back to yours and you almost flinched.

‘’Oh what choice of words you had, though I could hardly make each of them out when you’re body caused quite the distraction, it’s a shame you weren't around when i did manage to escape- i even devoted a bit of time trying to find you if I hadn't been on a tight time limit.’’

You shivered at the thought of him seeking you out while you scrambled with the rest to try to maintain the Helocarrier in the air. What would he have done? Where would he have taken you? Would results for the fate of New York be different if you had? 

His hand grasped your chin and raised it a little, coaxing your eyes back on him before his thumb began stroking your bottom lip, instantly making you want to turn your face away but were unable to do so.  ‘’You wouldn't touch a royal reject until the day you died, wasn't that what you said?” you actively swallowed and squeezed your lips shut when you felt the pressure of his finger trying to pry. ‘’Quite the liar we have here.’’ he smirked.

‘’I am not touching you.’’ you mumbled out, flinching in fright when your body betrayed you and his finger slipping into your mouth, stroking your tongue before teasing its way towards your throat.

‘’Perhaps not, but what matters is there isn't a single thing you can do to stop me from touching you.’’ he purred and began lowering his body down, fitting it against your like a glove where he let out a gentle moan of pleasure. 

Your eyes only grew wide, finding yourself absolutely helpless when you could neither move away, bite, nor show any form of resistance while his head dipped down and ghosted the tip of his nose against your neck, inhaling.

‘’So my darling, do you know what I wished for?’’ he whispered, feeling your thighs press together before he slowly ran his tongue against your neck with a hum. ‘’I wished for your surrender.. Your unresisting, unwavering partnership..’’

‘’Why didn't you wish for me to love you?” you mumbled against his finger, flinching the next second as he pushed too far and making your throat damn near contract around his digit, he couldn't help but tilt his hips into you.

‘’Where’s the fun in that? It’s much more fun when you are of your own mind and knowing there isn’t a damn thing you could do to stop me..’’ he purred and flicked his gaze up towards the guard with a smirk. ‘’And given my life sentence, i’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it where it won’t feel like a wish anymore..’’

His finger was then removed with a wet pop, making you close your mouth tight encase he’d do it again. He then sat himself up, watching you as you shook below him with hesitance before your eyes watched him move off of you to sit down on the bed instead. With a moment of pause, you sat up as well, wanting to get away from him again and went to get off before his hand came to your hair again to stop you, keeping you sitting beside him.

‘’I know you might find the need to run, or move away or perhaps find other ways to try to defy me, but i assure you Y/N, it won’t do you any good other than force my hand.’’ he warned but his voice was calm, almost as if lecturing a child before you noticed a hand moving to his groin.

‘’L-Look.. If what I said in the interrogation room truly upset you that much.. Then let me at least apologize.. Y-you don’t have to go through this intensity just because i hurt your feelings or something.. This all will just make things worse for yourself-’’ you rushed out quickly, feeling the sting in your scalp but was unable to move your head away. 

It's as if this man had you on strings, his own little puppet in a way… perhaps you were able to move yourself to the other side of the room, move your head away, stuff like that.. But any form of touch with intention.. Your body seemed to be under his spell.. His ‘wish’ as he calls it. Your eyes looked over to the other half of the wish on the ground not too far away.

It had to be.. Impossible..

‘’How.. How do you stop it?” you whispered, fully doubting he’d even tell you before the sound of a zipper going down made you jump and move your eyes back to his lap. As soon as you saw his hand dip into his pants, your body tensed to move away- but to no result.

‘’No please- please L-Loki i don’t want to do this- by gods.. You can’t do this!” you whimpered, honestly surprised you were able to say such words without this ‘so called wish’ interfering but something told you Loki had something to do with it because he seemed to be getting off on a little of your resistance.. What little you had left..

‘’How do you stop it?’’ he echoed, completely ignoring your begging before pulling out the monster that had tried humping you earlier.

Eyes blown wide, you were staring back at his erection that definitely spoke for the gods. He was large, larger than any you’ve seen and your jaw already began to ache at the thought of what he most likely would make you do as he pulled you by the hair closer.

‘’One of us would have to die darling.’’ His words showed fear in your eyes as you looked up at him, hands now planting on his thighs in hopes to stop him but, indeed, gave no resistance in your limbs as he pulled you enough to him to have you rest on your knees. ‘’I most certainly have no intention on harming you, or myself and i promise you have no will to bring harm upon me nor yourself with how close I plan on keeping you.’’ 

The sound of stroking skin hinted for your eyes to look down from their strain, his slender hand now gliding up and down his cock with his hips raising teasingly as his pleasure began by being administered himself. Something told you, you’d be taking over very soon.

‘’L-Loki.. Please.. You can’t do this..’’ you whispered, squeezing your mouth shut as he pushed your head down just enough to begin stroking the tip of his cock against your lips, the drops of precum moistening them with a salty tang. 

‘’You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you darling.. To taste you.. To fill you.. For you to please me, and we’ll have all the time in the world for it..’’ he cooed, swiping his cock against you to emphasize every word before you felt the pressure begin to push at your head, and slowly, your lips began to part.

‘’Life sentences don’t have to be terrible, and don’t worry baby..’’ his eyes fluttered at the sensations finally of satisfaction from your mouth and couldn't resist the grin he sent over to the match-like box laying on the ground. ‘’Ill make sure you’ll love me forever..’’

Note: Hope the ending wasn't crap- other than the disappointment of a cliff hanger, BUT i definitely wanna write more on this concept!!!

~also sorry for some spelling mistakes.. i was finishing a beer LOL

Tag List: @kitcatling @wolfsmom1 @mitsukichiis @justhereforthememes27 @saturnuswrites @mlpotter @dreamerofasgard @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @westwindrhapsody @lulubelle814 @angelofthorr @lolathecorso @literatureatthebowofnails

[literatureatthebowofnails]

This is genius! I can't wait for part 2!

[lokisgoodgirl]

All I Need [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: There's only one way to end a night on the town with Loki. (w/c 2.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heavy smut. Dirty talk. Drunk Loki (reader not specified) A/N: Thank you to @earlgreydreamreplies for popping the mental image of club bathroom shenanigans with L in my Askbox and gave me the green light to run with it :) You're wonderful. I hope this further fuels your daydreams.

Every beat of the bass shook your chest. Strobe lights pulsed behind your eyelids as your face turned to the ceiling. The DJ slipped into a new sound, euphoria bubbling beneath your skin as you let your head fall back to Loki’s chest.

All I need, is your love tonight…

He was looming, waxy curls wafting against your forehead. You knew the look that would be swimming in his eyes. The fire. The need. Completely entranced in the hedonism of the night.

All I need, is your love tonight...

The god’s hands balanced on your hips, grinding you deeper against him. Against the insatiable demon that lay in wait, concealed in luxurious fabric and impeccable tailoring. His hips moving against your spine so close that you were sure his buckle would bruise.

All I need, is your love tonight...

He swayed back and forth, guiding you. Fingertips dug into the dip of your hips, thrusting against the curves. More strands of his hair fell against your cheek as he skimmed his skin to yours.

All I need, is your love tonight...

The beat dropped, just as Loki’s parted lips fastened to your neck. His tongue swathed across your skin in messy circles, ravenous. Teeth scraping against moist skin. Licking.

He was drunk. On you. On liquor. On everything.

Your hand raked past his temple, combing through sweat-damp hair which stuck to your fingertips. Pressing him closer to the curve of your neck, you felt the vibrations of his growl through tight shirt cotton. His cologne stung your nostrils, warm cedarwood that had been overrun by the tang of cheap vodka and second-hand smoke. Heat from his skin pulsed against your neck, a thin sheen of sweat coating his own as he worked his lips over yours in a swallowing kiss.

Bodies shifted all around you as one.

It was tight. And hot. Loud.

But when he spoke. There was only you.

“I want you,” he rumbled hot and wet in your ear. Loki dragged your hips to the side, colliding against the thick cock snaking against his thigh. Hard, of course.

All I need, is your love tonight…

An unseen smile tugged your lip as you slid your hand over his delicious cheekbones, spinning to face him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging with a jolt. It shrugged him forwards, catching him off balance, perfectly timed as you leaned in to his ear. “Come on then big boy,” you hissed playfully. There were barely a pause as your fingers intertwined with his, leading him the well-trodden route of your youth to the bathrooms.

God, this place was a fucking dump.

You smouldered back to him as the music thumped, bodies parting like smoke to let you and your god through. Even intoxicated, even dishevelled and sweaty and mute and flushed; Loki Laufeyson was a titan among men. Your stomach fizzed as you watched each set of eyes in the heaving mass track his approach, and his departure.

They devoured him hungrily, from the endless depths of his transfixed stare, to cut of his jawline under the strobes, to the open buttons of his shirt, to the pull of cotton against taut flesh as he followed your lead. Black spindles stuck to his cheekbones, curls winding down his neck and cast over his shoulders. They spread against the white shirt like splattered ink.

They all wanted him.

Every single fucking one of them.

There was no need for pretence in a place like this. Better to be bold. And tonight...who cared. Loki’s free hand wandered to your ass as you emerged from the crowd, grasping needily beneath the hem of your dress as you walked with purpose towards the bathrooms. The approach was littered with loo roll and discarded cups, your heels sticking more with each step.

His arm shot out in front of your face, pushing the door ajar.

Smeared lipstick kisses coated the mirror, the smell of cheap perfume and fake tan. The place was windowless, tiny; a set of four cubicles that had seen far too much lined against the wall. Music from the main room seemed to shake the air.

The hand holding Loki’s was suddenly yanked backwards, pulling you to his chest. And then, he was upon you.

The god’s palms cupped your jawline firmly, pressing your lips to his. His tongue invaded your mouth, uneven pants and murmurs of desire sliding down your throat as he walked you backwards into the end stall. The door flew closed, locking of its own accord.

“You look so fucking...uhm, incandescent? Uh,..g-gods, in that dress I cannot,” Loki slurred between kisses as your fingers grappled with his belt.

He released your face, starting to undo shirt buttons.

“Don’t take your shirt off!” you giggled, as Loki’s eyebrows rose apologetically. “Wha- I’ve never done thish before,” he scoffed, fumbling with a button. A lazy smile flexed the corners of his mouth, eyes sparkling with life.

It was too much.

You launched at him, pressing him against the wall. Fingers tangled in hair, a violent hurricane of tongue and teeth clashing. With a gasp, the flat of your back pressed to the tile as he switched your places.

Loki’s forearm was flush above you. His brows knitted together, piercing you with the trademark smouldering eroticism that made your thighs tremble. “This place is filthy,” Loki growled, lowering his zip with painful slowness, “but darling, we’re filthier,” he winked. It was slower than usual.

He slid you up the wall, making sure that the ascent of his hands caught every curve of your body in that tight dress he loved so much. His fingers worked beneath the fabric, snapping the band of your underwear.

You sank down, the walls of your adrenaline-soaked pussy gaping for him. All of him. The tip of his furiously hard cock squeezed inside, making you wrap your legs tight around his hips. He bottomed out as wide palms held your ass tight, spreading your cheeks. Sometimes with Loki, all there was to do was hang on. So you slid your fingers over his shoulders, dug in, and did just that.

Loki threw his head back, ruined curls falling away as his face scrunched to the ceiling in pained pleasure. “Ah...f-fuck,” he gaped, “Norn-s, urghhsh...feelsh so good,”

There was something primal about this. Something that drilled right down to your core; past your pussy and your feelings and Loki’s pretty words and your fragile little future hopes and dreams.

Something dirty, filthy. Something animal.

Raw.

His stumbling curses of approval rang around the empty bathroom, your soft little moans that he adored spurring him on in the haze. Like a dog, inflamed by the dying cries of a rabbit. His open buckle clanged with every messy thrust, sopping cock squelching deep inside your little cunt.

“Why..does t-this feel so..good,” he slurred into your open mouth, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “Because-we- shouldn’t-be-doing- it,” you replied though winded breaths.

“Ohhhh...thas it,” Loki chuckled, before another groan ripped from the back of his throat. You ran a hand through his hair, gathering a clutch in your fist. “Yeah, that’s it...fuck me baby;” you moaned; bucking against him, “fuck me like... an a-animal, all I need...yes...yes...f-fuck me, King-”

Loki’s grip tightened on your thighs, bruising tips sinking into hot flesh. You tugged his hair, a wet snarl erupting from his lips. His breaths were ragged, eyes flashing dangerously. There was no blue in them. No green, either. Just wide, lust-soaked darkness.

Beads of sweat had gathered at his hairline, his hot breath misting against your cheek as he took his pleasure. And yours.

“You’re mine, aren’t you-” he murmured, punctuating the rhetorical question with a wicked smile. You gasped, feeling stars begin to blossom in your centre. “Mmmm,” you managed, tightening your grip of his hair. “And you’re mine,” you hissed.

Loki’s lazy smirk of approval almost sent you over the edge. You were surprised you even heard the gaggle of women stumble through the bathroom door over the blood thundering in your ears.

Immediately, Loki’s palm pressed against your mouth. He winked again, even slower than before. You clenched around his cock in response, a soft ooo wisping from his lips as his eyes narrowed. He stepped in closer, torso pressed tight against your own. You heard the stick of his shoes against the grimy floor, the smacking of toilet cubicles and locks and laughter making you dizzy.

And then, slowly, he began to thrust.

It was shallow. Tight. Devastating. His public hair scratched against yours as he took you deep with shallow rolls of his hips. Sharp, jagged inhales and exhales through your nostrils were all Loki would allow as he fucked you deeper against the wall. His fingertips sank into the curves of your thighs. Hair fell around his face, sticking to his forehead in tangled threads.

He was panting.

So soft and low and wet.

“Uhh-h-h,” he gasped, catching in his throat as his lashes fluttered closed.

The fingers of the hand holding your body to his pulsed against your skin, spasming with the pleasure building inside him. Over the girlish chaos now filling the bathroom, you hear the increasing speed of Loki’s balls slapping against your wetness, the slurp of your arousal welling against his cock with every buck of his hips as he got faster. Greedier. His eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. He began to moan softly to the ceiling.

“Wo-ki…” you chided, muffled by his hand. He focused back on you, pupils blown wide. In a flash, the world changed again as he gracefully moved you from the wall with the force of a gust, spinning your body. Your hands flew out, gripping the cistern as the toilet lid slammed shut. A gasp rattled the air. You didn’t know if it was you or him as he sheathed himself to the hilt.

Fingers gripped the porcelain, rattling suspiciously with each mind-bending fuck that sent shock-waves to your depths. The orgasm bubbling inside you reared with renewed intensity as you realised Loki’s fingers had slid from the back of your neck to rest over your lips again. He curled against your back, shirt buttons cool against the flushed heat of your shoulders.

“Quiet, my temptress of the night…” he growled with a silent chuckle, powering his thighs up into another squelching thrust. Brushing your hair aside, his tongue slathered against the back of your neck. Saliva pooled, his drooling panting animalism taking over as modesty was forgotten. His dishevelled, quiet groans of desperation.

Seizing the opportunity, you captured one of his fingers between your lips. Loki shuddered against your ass. He let the finger slide on your tongue, the thick digit following the path his cock always took to the back of your throat.

“F-ffuck,” he slurred, the utterance no more than a whisper.

Another finger joined it.

And then, you began to suck.

Saliva welled at the creases of your mouth as he brought you closer to the edge, his free hand grasping in lazy handfuls of flesh. Your ass, your thighs. Yanking at the dangling sides of your dress and the pathetic last vestiges of your underwear. He was needy. Groaning in huffing exhales and shallow breaths as the ridges of his fingertips traced the point of your tongue.

“Gonna-ing to- cum,” he moaned wetly against your back.

You heard the scuffle of his dress shoes on the floor as he tried to get his bearings, the appendages dripping inside the heat of your mouth and the tight of your cunt too much for him to bear. You felt his glistening forehead rest against the slippery nape of your neck, damp hair mingling in sluttish waves with your own.

His mouth was open, saliva strands sizzling against the skillet of your skin as he tumbled over the edge with a broken cry of ecstasy. Your arms collapsed against the cistern, the weight of the god bottoming out inside you all you ever needed to feel whole.

“Nornsh…” he grunted quietly. There was a bang on the door, followed by a raucous round of laughter.

“You okay love?” an inebriated voice announced, “need anything?”

More laughter.

Loki shook his head against your back, nuzzling the skin with a shaking sigh. “I’m fine,” you said; far more composed than you felt. “Thank you.”

The gaggle of clicking of heels and sudden blast of music signalled their departure.

Loki drew up to his full height, sliding his cock out with an obscene slurp. Cum immediately began to drip in thick rivulets down your inner thighs. Usually you would clean it up. But not tonight.

You spun to face him, stepping out of your ruined underwear and pulling the dress down your hips with a mischievous smile. The underwear disappeared from the floor in a flash of green.

Loki winked, patting his heart twice with a shocking lack of characteristic rhythm. “A memento,” he explained with a flourish of his hand. A beautifully dreamy grin had begun to spread across his face.

“Home, my queen?” he postured, beginning to re-tuck his shirt and doing an incredibly bad job of it. You zipped up his fly, pausing to inhale against his collar. Faint traces of cologne wafted in tendrils up your nostrils, masked by the heavy smell of sex and the night’s vices.

“One more dance,” you purred, intertwining your fingers with his. You guided Loki’s hand to the mess coating your inner thighs, dragging a digit lightly through your plump folds, soaking with him. And you.

Loki smiled. “Filthy,” he growled, before he bringing the fingers to his lips with a gentle suck.

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @lokischambermaid @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @thenotoriouserg @fandxmslxt69 @unlucky-number-13 @use-your-telescope

[literatureatthebowofnails]

How did I miss this one? It's absolutely filthy!!

[rylandsgrace]

Superman (2025) + Text posts

[sashayed]

thinking about Brad Dourif in "Istanbul" and the fact is Grima Wormtongue would have gotten away with it forever if they'd let him be hot. with better hair he could've run that horse girl country into the ground for decades. eomer would've been like "dang, seems like my uncle is a very bad king for no reason, oh well." pretty privilege grima wormtongue could have girlbossed middle earth into the flames of mordor

[sashayed]

hot grima wormtongue: lmao look who's here. late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. láthspell i name him, ill news, and ill news is an ill guest

riders of rohan: i don't know he seems right for some reason. i just agree with him because his argument is so sound. gandalf you should leave

[bluestockingbaby]

@josephinetaylorbooks

[daisychase]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER // 7.12 "Potential" Look, if I come here, it’s because I gotta wring information out of something large, scary, drunk… with a room full of friends who don’t care very much for the Slayer. Remember that.

[anonbeadraws]

today's warm up: Those stones will only last so long. Against the river and a mother's anger, they will only last so long.

[salty-tang]

that time my boss sent us to retrieve a tentacle specimen and how everything went horribly hornily wrong

thunderbolts reader x bucky x tentacle monster (?!)

Summary: valentina dispatches you and bucky to retrieve Hydra's forgotten Project Nereus

Warnings/tags for this fic are split into three categories, please be guided accordingly ! this story contains explicit themes for 18+ ONLY !

blanket: sentient tentacle monster fucking, dub-con leaning non-con, aphrodasic/ sex-goo, p in v, anal (m & f receiving), orgasm delay/denial, forced orgasms, overstimulation, voyerism, slightly jealous/possessive bucky, being used by tentacle monster, elements of bdsm (m & f: bondage, submission), many holes at once, extremely messy sex, dubious after-care // reader has a call sign (ace), reader has powers (empath), no use of y/n scene specific: fingering (f receiving), breath play (choking/throat fucking: f receiving; waterboarding: m receiving), squirting, oral (f receiving, m giving), breast/nipple play (f & m receiving), cock and ball play, double penetration (f receiving), tentacle wrapped dick fucking (f receiving, m giving), ruined orgasm (m & f), mentioned briefly: shame/humiliation (m), size kink (bulging: f), crying, losing consciousness

Word count: 11.5k

A/N: please read all the tags, and then read it again! please be freaky responsibly ♡

READ ON AO3

“I want the tentacle monster,” Valentina declares early one morning. There’s a maniacal gleam in her eye, the kind that prompts Bucky to roll his. He just knows that somehow, she’s here to make her problem his problem.

The seven of you are crammed around the mission table when her hologram flickers to life, blue-lit and infuriatingly composed.

Alexi’s already in his Thunderbolts gear (eager, as always, to be called into a meeting with the boss) Ava’s in last night’s sleep shirt (decidedly not), John’s chewing a protein bar like it owes him money, Yelena’s filing her nails with surgical focus, Bob’s nursing a mug of coffee while listening intently, and Bucky’s scowling like a man who knows – from experience – that whatever this is, it’s going to be beneath him.

You didn’t blame him. Valentina only ever calls meetings this early when she’s about to waste all of your time.

“The objective,” she says, voice bright as a bell and twice as grating, “is to retrieve Project Nereus, currently situated at the abandoned Hydra site off Seastar Cliff. Forward team confirms it’s intact, non-aggressive, but large and… uncooperative.”

A grainy still fills the centre of the table – subterranean cave walls, seawater up to a man’s waist, and in the middle of the space, the shattered remains of a containment tank. A dozen or more tentacles spill from its broken glass lip – pale, glistening, tangled like power cables in a flooded basement.

Bucky squints. “Why?”

Valentina smiled. “Because it was Hydra’s vanity project. And I want it.”

There’s a silence that would be more uncomfortable if it weren’t so familiar.

“I’m sorry,” Yelena says not looking up from where she’s examining her cuticles, “Is this a joke or your midlife crisis?”

Walker grunts. “Looks like a pile of squid. Just call Red Lobster.”

“It’s not a squid,” Ava says without looking up. “Structure’s wrong. Too many muscle groups.”

You slouch over the table and prop your head up with one hand. “So you want us to bag it. Alive.”

“Correct,” Valentina says brightly. “No slicing, no dicing, and absolutely no setting it on fire. That one’s for you, Walker.”

He snorts. “Wasn’t planning on it. Squid’s not even armed.”

“She,” Valentina corrects, with a little too much pleasure. “Or possibly he. Or they. The biomass displays some fascinating dual-responsiveness. Could be reactive, could be reproductive. Either way – it should be preserved.”

Bucky looks like he’s already halfway to a headache. “And our team’s doing this why...?”

“Because it’s going to be part of the archive,” she says, clicking to a new slide. “And because I don’t trust the Vault handlers to not ruin it, or provoke it into a defensive response. It might lay eggs, or worse.”

You look down at the image again. Whatever Nereus was, it wasn’t dead. Even in the stills, it has a sort of… posture. Like it’s curled into itself and gone quiet. Resting, waiting.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s a thing it can do?”

“We’re not 100% sure yet,” Valentina replies. “Which is why I want it somewhere I can study it properly. Give it the gentle attention it deserves.”

There’s a pause. The rest of the team sits just still enough to imply full insubordination.

Valentina turns her attention to the rest of the room. “But don’t get too excited. This one’s a light op. Ace and Barnes only.”

A collective groan arises. John slouches harder in his seat. Yelena flings her nail file at Valentina’s hologram like she'd been personally insulted. It harmlessly passes through the image and hits John in the face.

“Hey!” he exclaims the same time Ava asks dryly, “Budget cuts?”

“Travel embargo,” Valentina replies without missing a beat. “The rest of you are grounded.”

Ava sniffs. “Is this about the per diem again?”

“You blew the quarterly budget on that hotel in Milan,” Valentina retorts crisply. “The one with the champagne tower in the lobby.”

Alexi mutters, “Embarrassment to the mission. Champagne was excellent.”

“The finance team disagrees. So for now, only Ace and Barnes have travel clearance.”

Bucky doesn’t even pretend to be surprised. “So I’m the muscle, and she’s the...”

“The weirdo with the hands,” Yelena supplies helpfully.

You grin. “Empath. But thanks.”

Valentina’s gaze lingers on you for a beat. “I want your power on this, Ace. We don’t know what Nereus wants – or if it wants anything at all. Touch it, read it, tell me if it’s hungry. Or curious. Or homicidal. The usual.”

You nod. “You know it.”

Valentina flicks to one last slide – a map of the cave system, tide schedule noted in red. “You leave at 1400. Forward team also adds that the specimen is heavy and... stubborn, which is interesting language coming from those folks.”

You raise a brow. “Stubborn.”

She nods. “It refuses to move or fit into any of their containment boxes. But I have faith you’ll figure it out.”

Bucky exhales slowly. “You’re really making us do courier duty.”

“It’s not courier duty,” Valentina says, eyes glittering. “It’s asset retrieval.”

“Same hat, different badge,” he mutters.

She leans in, her hologram glitching slightly at the edges. “Handle it gently, bring it home, and I’ll owe you both one.”

You exchange a glance with Bucky. He looks profoundly unconvinced.

The hologram blinks out with a final shimmer, leaving the mission table dim and humming.

There’s a long pause.

Walker breaks the silence first. “She’s gonna keep it in her office, isn’t she.”

Yelena flops over the table, “Next to the pickled eyeball and the demon cactus.”

Bob takes a fortifying sip of his coffee. “I hope it doesn’t eat anyone.”

Ava gets up with a stretch. “If it eats them, I have dibs on Barnes’ knife.”

Bucky stands, already rubbing a hand down his face. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You roll your shoulders, already reaching for your field pack. “You say that like it’s not your dream job.”

He gives you a flat look. “My dream job doesn’t involve tentacles.”

“Give it time,” you say. “It looks cute.”

Bucky stops dead in his tracks. “Cute?”

You grin. “I love nature!”

***

The descent into the sea cave smells like salt and rust and old things that should have stayed buried. The air bites; cold enough that you breath begins to ghost white between you and Bucky. Water drags against your boots as you push through the flooded access tunnel, light beams slicing the mist in tight white cones. Every footstep lands with a slosh and a hollow echo that rolls away into the dark.

You tilt your head back, studying the stalactites that drip from the ceiling like glass knives. “Are those oysters radioactive?” you ask rhetorically, sloshing around a stray clump of seaweed that’s made a new home for itself in the corridor.

Bucky’s a few steps ahead, every line of his body tight and watchful. “Don’t touch anything.”

“You wound me,” you mutter, hand to heart, although you are going to be touching everything. Everything interesting, at least.  

“Good. Then you’ll stop petting things that twitch.”

“That’s why you keep me around.”

The air gets colder the deeper you go. The path widens into a chamber where the tide has not quite retreated, where floating rainbow film shimmers in patches. The cavern is circular and low-ceilinged, a laboratory fashioned out of the largest cave in the underground system.

At the very centre sits a planter tank the size of a hot tub –  a low steel cylinder rimmed with cracked glass, its interior webbed with tubes and Hydra markings half-erased by corrosion. Spent bullets and their casings dot the ground around it.

Hanging over its lip, pouring out like ribbons, is what remains of Project Nereus.

True to the briefing image, dozens of tentacles lie limp across the stone. Pale mauve, some curled, some splayed, their flesh wet and glass-slick in the low light. They look too soft to be mechanical, too perfect to be natural.

They are half submerged in the shallow water and move with the swish of water creeping in from the tunnel, more breath than twitch, as if the thing dreams in slow motion.

You kneel beside it, knee rippling the puddle. “This is it,” you whisper.

Bucky stops beside you. “Looks dead,” he asses. He keeps a fair distance, weapon lowered but at the ready. “But you’re not takin’ that glove off.”

“Doesn’t feel dead,” you counter as you tug off your gloves in one swift motion, too quickly for Bucky to stop you.

“Ace –” his voice is pained.         

“I’m just checking.”

“Seriously?” Bucky snaps. “You don’t even know what that thing is.”

Your bare hand hovers over the nearest tentacle, then grazes it. The contact isn’t electric – it’s tidal. A strange fizzing sensation crawls up your arm with a prickle that warms slightly before you can pull away.

The conclusion drops into you gut like stone: alive.

As you press your power further, more sensations rise up in your subconscious: salt, emptiness, misery. The creature’s suffering hits so sharply it almost makes you recoil. It’s hungry – but not with a predator’s bloodlust. Something simpler, sadder; for food and drink. It’s clearly been left for dead; but something as basic as starvation would not kill this creature.

Bucky’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Ace. Back up.”

You hiss, soft but firm, “Shut up, I need to concentrate.”

He does. Immediately. The scrape of his boots stills, and the chamber fills again with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the slow drip of water.

“It’s starving,” you say. “Not hostile – too weak for that.”

The nearest tentacle stirs, dragging itself through the puddle until it curls faintly toward your feet, just enough to reach back. It brushes your ankle with the soft, deliberate weight of something exploring the idea of contact – testing if you might be kind, or cruel.

It leaves the faintest trail of slime on your gear where it touches you. There’s a shimmer in it, and it tingles with a subtle pop where it stains your clothes.

Bucky exhales through his nose, frustrated. “That thing’s not a pet.”

You shrug as you reach into your pack without ceremony. “Good. I’m not very well-trained either.”

The water bottle comes free with a soft clack against your thigh holster.

Bucky clocks your intentions immediately. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Watering it.”

His face does something complicated. “Ace –”

“You said don’t touch anything,” you reply, twisting the cap, “and I’m not. I’m pouring.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“It’s thirsty!”

Bucky takes one step forward, boots sloshing. “You’re giving a Hydra experiment a drink like it’s a houseplant.”

“It practically is.” You angle the bottle downward. “A sad, neglected, genetically modified houseplant. Look,” you gesture at what could be called drainage holes along the base that has crusted over with salt crystals. “Roots! Sort of. It’s half-biological at least. Maybe it just needs a little bit of this.”

You tip the water into the centre of the planter, generously splashing over where the mass of root-tentacles coil in damp loops. The liquid sinks into the dirt, disappearing instantly.

For a moment nothing happens.

Then, like the first breath after drowning, Nereus awakens.

Its tentacles twitch with a ripple, like a current passing through the whole body at once. The largest one begins to unfurl, slow as a stretch after sleep. It jerks toward you – not with threat, with curiosity. It’s thick and glistening, with a stark white underside that is veined and slicked with more of that strange shimmering goo.

Bucky swears under his breath, staring the now activated creature down the scope of his gun. “You watered it. Of course you did.”

“Yep.”

“And now it’s coming to say thank you?”

You grin. “Wouldn’t you?”

It steadies, movement smoothing out, the uncertainty gone. Each shift now has purpose – like muscle memory waking in a body that remembers hunger. The tentacle pauses just a hair’s breath from your outstretched hand.

Bucky’s voice tightens. “Ace. Back. Now.”

You stay where you are, careful not to make any sudden moves. “It’s not attacking.”

A tentacle reaches your outstretched arm and brushes against your sleeve. The contact isn’t rough – it’s feather-light, a glide of texture that’s more exploratory than aggressive. It traces up, up, up – past your wrist, along the inside of your arm, then lingering at the base of your neck.

You glance down: the film it spreads is translucent, faintly iridescent under the dim light. It’s not hostile, your power insists. It’s not afraid. It’s – something else.

The contact spots warm pleasantly, a slow seep of gentle heat through fabric, until warmth pools beneath the seam of your suit. Your pulse starts to chase it, syncing with that faint shimmer spreading under your skin.

“Ace,” Bucky says. “What the hell is it doing.”

You can’t answer right now. That intoxicating heat radiates down your arm in a slow wave, spreading across your body and settling low in your belly, diffuse and heavy.

And then it’s not surface heat anymore – it’s crawling, threading through muscle and marrow. Your heartbeat sounds too loud, too heavy, as if the pulse itself has weight. Each inhale tastes faintly sweet, chemical, and just slightly wrong.

You should be alarmed – but there’s something about Nereus that doesn’t feel cruel, or even dangerous. And maybe that’s why you don’t resist. Instead, your body starts to relax, like you hadn’t even noticed how tight everything was until it began to ease.

The next wave of sensation creeps up. Your tactical suit – engineered to always maintain optimum operational temperature – now feels too warm. Your skin feels too aware. You blink and the axis of your world tilts slightly. The air is syrup-thick; colours pulse at the edges of your vision. Your own hands look foreign, trembling in slow motion. Every drag of breath seems to vibrate inside your ribs.

Again, you know you should be panicking, but the weight of the tentacle on your clavicle is oddly comforting. The tip of that tentacle perks up, brushing lightly against your cheek like a lover’s reassuring touch.

“Hey,” Bucky calls again with increasing alarm. “You’re breathing weird.”

His concern’s not unwarranted. He sees it – the flush crawling up your throat, the sweat beading at your hairline, the half-dazed smile that doesn’t belong on a battlefield.

You laugh – giggle, really – in a voice thinner than you’d like. “Yeah. Just… warm.”

He stares as your breath continues to fog white. “Warm?”

Nereus pulses with a low vibration that hums through the floor. Another tentacle rises – thinner and more flexible – curling lightly behind your knee, looping up your thigh. Iridescent secretion coats your upper quads.

Your muscles seize, a small tremor rippling through your legs. You brace one hand against the planter’s edge, breath caught halfway in your throat.

The tentacle doesn’t stop. It continues curling higher. Not invasive – yet – but exploratory. You inhale reflexively – it feels good, almost too good. Pleasurable. You want it to continue up, up until it presses against the apex of your thighs.

How would tentacles feel pressed up against your clit?

You hear the safety of Bucky’s gun clicking off, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the tentacle’s ascent. “Play time’s over Ace. Get away from it.”

With how fogged out your brain is, you almost forget Bucky’s there – until you hear that voice, low and hard and pissed: “Get away from it.” And god help you, it makes your pussy clench.

You look over. He’s standing there like sin itself, broad and bristling, gun drawn, scowl carved into that perfect fucking face. And all you can think is how good his metal fingers would feel shoved in your mouth. Or deeper.

You whimper. Not from fear. From need. Every nerve ending is a live wire, every glance at Bucky makes it worse. You want him to fuck you through the floor. You want him to see how wet you are and snap.

“I’m fine,” you reassure too quickly.

The tentacle has stopped its ascent at the softest, fleshiest part of your thigh. It just curls itself there nestled comfortably in the warmth. You’re flushed and keening and there’s a growing dampness between your legs that you know has nothing to do with the terrain or Nereus’ slick. Your clit aches, heavy and throbbing.

A thinner tentacle unfurls. It greets you with a wet stroke down the side of your throat, and then the valley between your breasts. It suckers inquisitively at the zipper track down your front, exploring the sensation of new materials. Then it reaches back up, curling two of its suckers gently around the zipper at your throat.

You watch, dazed, as it pulls downwith unnerving precision.

And then, you’re bared from chest to navel, the upper parts of your uniform pushed aside by those tentacles. It hovers just over your perky, exposed, breasts.

You should be embarrassed. You should try and cover up. But you don’t care. There are more pressing things on your mind right now – how you were expecting the cold air to help to ease the heat crawling uncomfortably under your skin – but it doesn't. Exposure only it makes it worse.

Your chest rises too fast. Every breath makes contact – and contact makes you gasp.

The tentacle drags slick up your ribs and over your sternum, leaving a wet trail that cools too fast and makes you shiver. Another brushes just below your breast, featherlight – eliciting a shaky exhale – and then doubles back with focus because it’s just learned something.

They both go for your nipples, latching tight onto your sensitive nubs, and pull.

You should be fucking mortified – writhing like this under a pile of alien limbs, moaning like you don’t know shame. The sap turns every nerve ending into a live wire. Each pull of suction spikes white behind your eyes, pleasure laced with dizziness – like you’re high and burning up at the same time.

You’re not even pretending to hide it anymore – how badly you want to be fucked open and used. Over and over and over.

You make a noise – half-laugh, half-moan – that escapes before you can stop it. “Guess it likes me,” you whisper, face flushed red.  

The chamber’s pin-drop silent, except for the slow drip of water and the measured sound of your heartbeat climbing, climbing, climbing.

Another tentacle finds the heat of your core through the seam of your suit. You jolt.

It doesn’t stop there. It latches on, suckers pulsing, as if it’s trying to drink from your dripping sex, sucking your creamy arousal through the fabric. You can feel the pressure, the obscene insistence of it, like it’s trying to pull the slick from your body molecule by molecule.

The one on your thigh tightens in response. You gasp, hips tilting up into it before you can stop yourself. Every press is slow, deliberate, coaxing your body into helpless compliance.

The tentacles work in tandem, suckling like mouths, pulling in time with the glide of the one outside you. One of them twists, just slightly, flicking your left nipple with just the right amount of force, and you jerk.

You squeak; the multitude of sensations all at once feel so good.

Your whole body tightens.

Your clit throbs.

“Please –” you gasp, unsure if it’s a plea for more or for mercy.

The response is another pull, deeper and longer this time, until your nipples are swollen and slick, aching and stiff from the constant pressure. Your body rocks with it, hips rolling like you’re chasing every point of friction at once.

Nereus takes that as permission.

Another tentacle, thick like a tree trunk, slides across your hips and wraps, snug and perfect. The weight of it is solid, deliberate. It’s steadying you, supporting you – and claiming you.

It squeezes pulses of pleasure right up your spine, and your muscles give up all pretence of tension. Your limbs feel heavy, loose-jointed. Floaty. Your knees give out.

The tentacle at your waist flexes again and suddenly your boots aren’t on the ground anymore. It certainly doesn’t ask. It just does, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. It cradles most of your weight effortlessly, adjusting you with eerie awareness – as if it’s testing each angle to find the one that elicits your loudest moans.

Your back arches instinctively as the mass of tentacles shifts, drawing you closer to the planter’s centre, until all that fills your vision is a mass of writhing limbs that are all too keen to get tangled up in you.

You should protest. God, you should fight. You should be screaming for backup, demanding Bucky to open fire, something.

But the rational part of you is so far away now – muted beneath the primal heat blooming between your legs and the sticky, itchy, sweetness humming under your skin. Every thought starts with logic and melts into heat, into ache, into the throb between your legs. Whatever’s in Nereus’ sap is rewiring your brain, drowning out everything but want.

You’re going to let it do anything. You want it to. Need it.

The drag of suckers up your thighs.

The press of the thick limb hugging you tighter.

Your hands curl uselessly in the air, then on instinct grab the tentacle around your waist – clutching at it like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded in this assault of senses. It squeezes back in response, like it’s pleased. Like it knows.

All of this, and it’s still not enough to cool the heat in your body. You feel empty, so empty that it’s driving you mad. And you want – you want to be filled.

Somewhere behind you, Bucky breathes your name again – a warning, a plea. But the part of you that hears him? It’s very, very far away.

He’s still standing there, frozen to the spot. His gun is still carefully hoisted, but his finger isn’t on the trigger.

He should shoot, he knows that. The angle is clean, he’s a good shot, the tentacles aren’t covering your vital organs yet. The thing’s distracted and exposed.

And still, he doesn’t fire – only the lord knows why – maybe because you’re not screaming. You’re panting, lips trembling, pupils blown wide open. Enjoying being squeezed and stroked.

Your head lolls slightly as the tentacle that unzipped your suit now strokes your cheek with obscene gentleness, dragging its slick along the planes of your face. Sap, secretion, goo – whatever the fuck it is – smears across your skin in thick, wet streaks. Your mouth parts just slightly at the touch, like you’re not sure whether to sigh or protest.

Bucky’s grip tightens on the gun.

He hates how he’s staring. Hates the sharp pulse of heat that spikes through him as he watches something else touch you. His jaw locks until his teeth ache.

You sway in the air like you’re weightless, boneless, being held just the way your body wants. One tentacle around your waist. Another squeezing your thigh. One curling around the back of your neck, not choking – just there, controlling the angle of your head. Keeping you open and presented, an offering and a temptation rolled into one.

And what a temptation you are. Bucky’s can’t tear his eyes away from you, from your chest; not with the way your tits bounce with every thrust and suction, and the way your nipples are being teased and tormented until your breath hiccups and your thighs shake.

He can hardly comprehend the sight before him.

Oh, who was he kidding? He’s still a man, and he knows what they’re doing – it’s just that his rational mind isn’t quite understanding how you’re able to derive such pleasure from these activities.

But his cock can.

It’s hard. Throbbing. Harder than he’s ever been in his life, and he hasn’t even been touched. Just watching you like this is enough to drive him mad with lust. His cock strains uncomfortably in his pants, begging to be released. Begging to be buried deep in your cunt, where it knows it would be so wet and welcoming.

The realization makes him sick with himself. It shouldn’t be arousing. It shouldn’t feel right. But it is.

For him, and certainly for you.

You catch his eye across the room, and he swears there’s already that feral, fucked-out glint in it – cheeky, cockdrunk, absolutely wrecked. It’s there for just a second before your lashes flutter shut and you let out the prettiest little whimper, helpless and sweet, and it punches straight to his cock.

Your back arches further, preening under his gaze, as a cluster of tentacles make quick work of the rest of your tac suit, shoving it down, peeling it off.

The moment soft skin is revealed, the tentacles latch on with greedy precision, winding around your thighs, squeezing handfuls of meat like they’re claiming you. Bucky watches, transfixed, as they devour you like a prize. He can’t tell where you end and the tentacles start.

Then, two of them loop around your ankles and yank – rough, no warning, dragging your legs open and apart. Your slick cunt glistens, spread wide, and arousal spills straight from you, thick and gloppy, dripping messily onto the pulsing centre mass of tentacles below.

You grunt at the suddenness of the stretch, but are otherwise pliant in its embrace.

Jealousy flares in Bucky’s chest, raw and wrong. The sight of you stretched out like that – slick and shaking, spread wide for something that isn’t him – makes something animal growl inside him. The thing hasn’t earned you. Hasn’t earned the way you let your body go soft, the way you always trust so easily, offer yourself up like you can’t imagine being hurt. That softness is his to ruin, not some fucking creature’s.

Bucky’s voice cracks through the room like a warning shot.

“Ace” he growls. “Get that thing to release you or –”

You cut him off with a breathy moan. “It’s not hurting me.”

And that – somehow – makes it worse.

Your voice is wrecked. Wrecked and pleading.

The sound tears through him – low, needy, wrong. He tells himself it’s the goo making you sound like that.

You lift your head just enough to look at him. Your expression is hazy, blissed-out, but your eyes find his like you know what he’s feeling. Because you feel it too.

“I know what it wants,” you whisper.

His heart stops.

“Really,” you insist, breath catching on the word. “It’s just hungry. Desperate.”

Bucky’s throat clicks as he swallows.

“For what?” he asks. His voice is lower now. Rougher.

Your mouth curves – barely – and then, “Release.”

***

It doesn’t take long to notice the tentacles aren’t uniform at all. They’re a whole ecosystem: some taper to delicate points, others are thick and heavy, others whip-thin and restless. Their textures shift too – glassy-slick, velvet-soft, rubbery with faint ridges, even a few with a leathery underside that rasps when it drags across your skin. Each one feels designed for a different kind of ruin.

And one of the tentacles with suckers – thicker, ridged – finds your clit and latches on like it’s starving. It sucks hard. Sloppy and desperate. It’s rough, brutal, messier than anything a mouth could manage. If not for the slick aphrodisiac humming through your bloodstream, dulling the pain into dizzying pleasure, you’d be sobbing.

They’re not building you up – they’re trying to drag you over the edge whether you're ready or not. Your body jerks, hips twisting in reflex, but the tentacles around your thighs and ribs keep you pinned. There’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide from the brutal rhythm or the obscene pleasure they’re forcing on you.

The one curled beside your face – gentle, almost playful – nudges your lips like a tease. It strokes over your cheek, then taps against your mouth like it’s coaxing a kiss. A sick parody of comfort, trying to soothe while the others make a mess of your swollen cunt and aching tits.

It softly taps at the corner of your mouth, drawing your fading attention to its presence. Some of the secretion leaks and before you know it the pink tip of your tongue darts out to receive it.

The taste hits you immediately – rich, syrupy, unfamiliar. It’s not just sweet – it’s good. Warm like spiced honey, thick like sap, and laced with something that makes your scattering mind go dumber the second it hits your tongue.

Your eyes flutter and roll back as the world fractures into kaleidoscopic colour – edges ripple, time folds, and everything glows too bright, too soft, too much. It’s like drowning in velvet light, helpless and high on it.

Your tongue chases for more of it – nerves lit up like fourth of July fireworks, every inch hypersensitive and humming, drunk on head and sweetness and need. More tentacles join at your lips, forcing them apart and you don’t even think; you open.

Behind the haze, you hear him call for you. Bucky’s voice – rough, shaky, ruined. And concerned, oh so concerned.

You manage to turn toward him, mouth open, lips shiny with slick. “Let it,” you pant. “Please. I need – mmph –!”

The tentacles force their way past your lips. A little at first, and then so deep into your mouth and down your throat that your jaw stretches wide around it, and your oesophagus tightens automatically, trying to adjust. It’s thick – thicker than anything you’ve ever taken – and long enough that it doesn't stop at the back of your throat. It continues to shove itself in deeper, until you’re gagging on it.

Sensation floods your mouth as you suckle at it. The goo is sweet, yes, but dark now, like fruit gone to wine. And underneath that: salt, ozone, something heady and unfamiliar that makes your thighs twitch and your cunt clench around nothing as you have no choice but to drink what it’s pumping into you.

You try to gasp – startled, overwhelmed – and the sound gets trapped in your throat. You try to draw breath, only for your throat to close around thick tentacles. They throb in delight.

Your eyes snap open as real panic finally kicks in – just as Bucky’s gun goes off.

The sound of your choking is what finally snaps Bucky back into reality. Bucky’s opening salvo is three rounds into the thickest part of the monster, no hesitation.

The bullets hit Nereus dead on – and bounce off it harmlessly as if they’re made of rubber. They clatter off rusted metal and splash into the water, useless and spent.

Everything stops. The tentacles in your mouth recoil immediately, trailing a string of saliva that drips down your chest. It’s not wounded – just very, very offended. It slithers back with a wet snap, retreating like it’s been slapped.

You’re left retching, mouth wide open where the tentacles just were. You sob from the sudden loss of all sensation. You were so close -

You turn toward Bucky, lips still slick, voice rough and aching.

“Why – why did you do that?!”

Bucky can’t believe his ears. You were choking to death on tentacles and you’re staring him like he’s the problem.

He stares back.

Your face is a mess – slick with drool and sap, spit strung from your lips to your chin, pooling at your collarbones and sliding between your breasts like it belongs there. It drips lower, slow and obscene, tracing over the curves of your soaked cunt. You look wrecked. Claimed.

And Bucky can’t fucking breathe. Can’t think. Because all he wants is to touch you, clean you up, make you worse. Rip apart whatever did this – and then tear into you himself.

The gun is still warm in his hand, heartbeat hammering staccato in his ribs. He’s used to your weirdness – hell, he’s come to rely on it. Ace: the freak who can read intent through skin. He’s seen you scared before, seen you burned, bleeding, half-conscious – but never like this. Never desperate.

You’re not just being consumed, you’re being used. And you’re enjoying it so much you’d stake your life to chase your pleasure.

He trusts your judgment. Always has. But it’s clear you’re gone, lost to the thing’s rhythm. Tentacles coil around you with a reverence that makes his chest tighten. They touch you like they’re worshipping. No – like you’re an offering; for them, for him.

His stomach knots. He’s pretty sure his cock, red and angry, is staining the inside of his suit with precum. He doesn’t move.

For one flickering, traitorous second, he just stands there and watches – because his cock’s so hard it hurts and all he can think about is how fucking pretty you look like this. Dripping, ruined, and wide open. His.

He should stop this. Should drag you clear.

Instead, he’s rooted there like a sinner at confession, breath shallow, dick throbbing, pulse in his throat, thinking: Mine. Mine. Fuck, mine.

And that’s when a smaller tentacle slips free from the mass – barely there, as thin as a finger – and nudges his hand. Bucky stares at it. It doesn’t force, but it guides him down, forward, towards you.

He lets it. He fucking lets it. He lets the slick weight of it curl around his metal wrist, steering his hand closer. Lets himself look at you – at your nakedness, at the red and raw rings where the tentacles were sucking you dry. He can smell the musky scent of your arousal and it makes him want to bury his head between your legs and inhale.

Your hips still rock in the thing’s grip, chasing the very last bit of friction to send yourself over the edge – and he imagines what it would feel like to slide his hand inside; right there, right now.

He could curl his fingers inside you – slow, then rough – and fuck them deep until you're shaking around him. Drag your orgasm out until you're sobbing from it. Make you fall apart on him, not these fucking things.

Him.  

His hand twitches forward – just enough for his fingers to graze the inside of your thigh.

Then he rips it back like he’s been scalded.

What the hell is he doing, letting a fucking tentacle guide him like some desperate pervert? What the hell is he doing when you’re clearly not thinking straight? He was supposed to be the one with the rational mind, the control. Not the one twitching at the thought of touching you like this, watching your hips buck like you’d take anything that touches you – like you’d take him.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, batting the tentacle aside.

If bullets don’t work, fine – he’ll tear it off you with his bare hands. Rip it apart until there’s nothing touching you but him.

Metal gleams in the dim cavern light as his vibranium arm flexes. Water sloshes around his boots as he braces himself to pull. Bucky’s jaw is clenched so tight it hurts. He goes for the thick tentacle cinched around your waist, trying to wrench it off you. His grip slides and sap coats him instantly.

His veins light up under skin – cold metal, hot blood, all of it thrumming in time with yours.

Everything shifts.

Nereus flares to life. The entire mass shudders in what can only be described as triumphant delight. Dozens more tentacles stir at once, and they descend on him like they’ve been waiting.

They’re not attacking – they’re welcoming. One wraps gently around his forearm. Another slithers up his back, stroking between his shoulder blades. More wrap around his calves, his hips, his thighs, smearing him in the same iridescent sap that’s already coating you. Every touch is possessive, hungry.

The thick goo clings to his gloves, soaks through the seams of his suit. It moves fast – hot and liquid and sweet – and sinks into his skin. He knows the signs. He’s seen you unravel on it. He can’t – he won’t – let it take hold. Not when he’s already struggling to think straight.

He staggers, almost slipping. “Shit.”

You reach out, breathless, pupils blown wide. “They want you too.”

A small tentacle curls up behind his knee and presses higher, nudging beneath his tactical gear, dragging slick upward with a practiced, unrelenting slide. It presses against the base of his thigh – too warm, too soft – and the heat of it seeps straight through.

Bucky inhales sharply. His head tips back slightly.

You look up at him – writhing in the grasp of tentacles who resumed their ministrations. The pressure between your legs has been building for what feels like hours; a constant, aching throb that pulses in time with every twitch of Nereus beneath you.

The one at your centre presses against your clit, again and again, slippery and precise, slick-coated ridges alternating between rubbing and sucking just right – sometimes slow, sometimes fast, always intentional.

And worse (better?) it's learning. Every moan, every gasp, every little shudder that jerks through your thighs just makes it adjust its rhythm. Closer. Tighter. Deeper pressure.

You gasp out loud as it flattens and grinds exactly where you need it most. Your back arches, hips bucking helplessly into the touch.

The heat in your belly sharpens suddenly – climactic, electric. Your walls clench greedily around nothing.

“No – fuck, wait, I –” Your voice dissolves into a cry. Your thighs clamp down, then spasm. This strange, deep pressure in your lower abdomen builds and you tense up.

You reach for anything – anyone – fingers flexing open into the air, desperate for something to ground you.

Before you could protest further, a new tentacle lashes around your wrists and binds your squirming form in place. Another slides higher up your other thigh and the tentacles tighten around you like a vice, yanking you flush against it. Your stomach tenses.

It’s like Nereus knows that you’re this close to bursting. It picks up the pace, and just as a tentacle tightens around your throat and the big sucker on your clit constricts, the unfamiliar sensation peaks –

And then breaks.

Your first orgasm hits like a lighting strike. That fullness in your bladder bursts over as your cunt convulses and your squirt gushes out from between your legs.  It drenches the tentacles wrapped around your thighs and splatters messily onto the soil below you.

The slick gush dribbles down your thighs, and another tentacle drags across the mess, lapping it up like it’s starving, like it can’t stand to waste a single drop.

Your limbs twitch violently, and you would cry out from how intense it is, but your throat’s stuffed full, locked tight around a tentacle that pulses with every desperate gasp you can’t make.

Nereus shudders with want. The whole creature ripples, like that first taste flipped some buried switch. The walls vibrate as it surges hotter, wetter, the air thickening with sap and hunger. It wants more.

It’s not satisfaction. It’s activation.

Decades of starvation crack open at once. The thing isn’t reacting to your orgasm – it’s consuming it, feeding off it like it’s the first meal in years. The goo ripples brighter, more vivid.

Fleshy tendrils thicken, swell, and writhe with new weight, like wasted muscle flooding with fresh blood. The ones wrapped around your legs tighten. More emerge from the soil, fat and glistening, and start to crawl higher.

Nereus is ravenous.

A tentacle strokes down your belly, still tense and twitching. Another slides between your thigh, dragging slick fingers through the mess and spreading it lower. You whimper as it circles and teases at your entrance.

Your head is still spinning when a second tentacle joins the first at your still-spasming clit. It flicks, and the contact is sharp, searing, and way too much.

You shudder, crying out. “I-I-just-”

But Nereus doesn’t understand mercy. It only knows hunger.

Another round is coming. You can feel it – mounting again beneath your skin, that raw, buzzing heat crawling back up your spine like wildfire. Your limbs are jelly, your body a live wire, and it hasn’t even given you a second to come down.

You lift your head, dazed, eyes glassy.

And find that Bucky’s been watching with an unreadable expression the entire time.

The scent of sex is thick in the air now: sweet, thick, and sharp. It’s impossible to ignore the way it clings to heat rising off your skin

He stares, watching the tentacle dragging slow, wet circles over your throat, watching your head tip back as your lips part again, slack with heat. Your whole body is twitching under the attention, your breath a shallow stutter. You’re soaked, shaking, overwhelmed. You’re gorgeous.

His cock throbs hard against the seam of his pants, leaking precum with every stuttered breath. The tentacles haven’t touched him yet, but he can feel them pulsing nearby, thick and slick and coiled, waiting. Hungry, too. And he knows the second they turn on him, he won’t be able to stop them.

This is a sick joke. Hydra built this thing, probably weaponized it. It should make his stomach turn.

Instead, he wants to sink to his knees and fuck you where you’re hanging – half-swallowed, dripping, trembling – while the tentacles keep you wide open for him.

He gasps, shame hitting hard and fast, but it’s too late to pretend he’s unaffected.

“Please,” you beg him, “don’t make me do this alone.”

And that’s what pushes him over. The moment he hears the ache in your whisper. Not just lust – recognition. Like you’re calling to him.

He exhales with a shaky breath and slowly peels his gloves off. In for a penny, in for a pound.

The tentacles come to life like they’ve already been waiting. One wraps around his ankle, another his bicep, and a third – thick and warm – slaps straight up between his legs, cupping his bulge hard.

He jolts in place, stumbling backward, but there’s nowhere to go. The mass of limbs move like a net. “Fuck –!”

The pressure isn’t gentle – it’s deliberate and punishing. The tentacle presses up and squeezes, as if testing him for ripeness. It doesn’t stop, continuing to

He bites down a groan, but it doesn’t help. The tentacles are everywhere –  stroking his thighs, dragging over his stomach, papillating his balls in seemingly unpredictable patterns – except where he needs them most. Not one of them touches his cock. Not even close.

His cock strains against his gear, leaking and furious, twitching with every teasing pass that misses it on purpose. It’s deliberate. Cruel. Like they’re mocking him for it. Letting him watch, ache, leak, while they play with the both of you.

Another tendril slithers beneath your ass and spreads you wider. You sob. Your thighs tremble. There’s a slick, dragging pressure between them that doesn’t stop – it circles, probes, pushes, coating everything in that sticky, aphrodisiac sap until even the sting feels good.

Your body twitches. One leg kicks. You cry out when it starts again.

A smaller tentacle slides beneath your jaw and tips your chin upward as the tentacles that have been fucking your throat retreat. It’s surprisingly gentle and expectant.

Bucky doesn’t think. He just leans in captures you lips in a bruising kiss.

Your mouth opens on instinct, all heat and glossed-over pleasure, and his tongue drags against yours like it’ll help him understand what the fuck is going on.

He tastes the sap on your tongue – warm, syrupy, heady and intoxicating – and suddenly he wants it everywhere. Wants to drown in it, wants to taste it off your skin and suck it from your mouth until he forgets his own name. It has been years since anything’s hit him like this – not booze, not pills, not even the ice-cold rush of a fight. It smears across his cheek, coats the corner of his mouth.

“Ace,” he sighs into your mouth. “This is insane.”

“I know,” you whisper, lips sticky with sap. “Don’t worry – we’ll take care of you.”

The words punch straight to his gut.

Tentacles are already tugging at his gear. He barely notices it at first – distracted by the softness of your lips, the sound of your contented sighs against his mouth, the way Nereus pushes your soft, warm, flushed body against his – but one slides under his vest and rips the fabric apart at the seam with practiced precision. Another hooks under the waistband of his pants, yanking just enough to expose him to the air. He doesn’t resist. Doesn’t help, either.

You whimper as one of the limbs curled around your thigh lifts – high, higher – until your ankle is well over your shoulder. It exposes the filthy mess between your legs – your pussy, swollen and puffy, your asshole, tight and slick and glistening for attention.

Bucky doesn’t even process how tightly he’s gripping your hips until something pushes down on the back of his head.

He doesn’t fight it as the tentacle forces him lower. When his knees hit the ground, he doesn’t hesitate. His hands brace against your thighs, and Nereus allows him one lungful of breath before it pushes his head into your cunt.

Bucky’s always been task-oriented – and right now, the task is you. He eats you out like it’s the only mission that’s ever mattered. His nose drags against your clit as his tongue works you open, eager, relentless, smearing slick everywhere like he wants to drown in it.

He’s breathless, soaked in your juices, mouth sealed tight around your clit like a man starved. Every lick is hot, possessive – lips locked around you, tongue dragging through your folds with shameless hunger.

Your body answers in kind, aching deep, desperate for more. You rock your hips against his face, chasing friction, chasing heat – the press of his soft lips, the scrape of his days-old beard against your soaked skin, every shift of his jaw sparking bright along your nerves.

And somewhere behind you, another tentacle coils along your spin and dips low. It nestles itself between the crack of your ass cheeks, circling slow and wet. And then it presses in.

Bucky doesn’t even realize how close he is.

His mouth is still on you – messy, relentless, devouring every twitch of your cunt like it’s instinct.

The sounds you’re making are absolutely wrecked now, broken little hiccups of pleasure as tentacles keep you stretched open, arched, fed. You’re trembling under him, breath hot and staggered, your hips grinding helplessly into his mouth.

And all the while, Nereus has him in its grip.

One tentacle is still cupped under his balls, massaging them with obscene precision – rolling, squeezing, kneading him like it wants to milk him dry. Another one – flat, wide, and slick with sap – is wrapped around the base of his cock and stroking.

It’s not delicate.

It’s practiced. Ruthless. Flattened surface dragging up the underside of his shaft with rhythmic, wet pressure. Sap coats everything – sticky and warm – and the glide is unreal. It’s all too much. Too hot. Too tight.

He doesn't even notice the extra tentacle at first.

He's too busy, after all. Your taste is coating his tongue – sweet, slick, laced with that aphrodisiac sap that makes his brain fuzz at the edges. You're squirming under his mouth, thighs trembling around his head, and he’s drowning in the mess of you when something brushes across his chest.

He freezes for half a second. Not because it hurts – god no – but because it's soft. Featherlight. And then it drags lower, circling his left nipple like it's testing a theory.

His breath catches.

The motion repeats. A curl. A press. Then – suction.

A sucker latches onto his nipple and pulls.

His hips buck helplessly into the tentacle still stroking his cock. His groan gets lost between your legs.

“Fuck,” he chokes, head lifting an inch from your cunt. “What the fuck –”

Another sucker finds his other nipple and does the same.

Pull. Release. Flick. Suck.

Bucky shudders. His whole torso jerks like he’s been lit up from the inside.

The suckers are working him like they know what he’ll respond to – short bursts of suction followed by tight pressure, like they’re trying to draw something out of him. His nipples are painfully hard now, wet and swollen from attention, and it shouldn’t feel this good.

But his cock leaks against the tentacle stroking it, his body locked tight in overstimulation.

He’s panting into your skin. Still trying to focus on you. Still licking at your clit with trembling effort while the tendrils tease his chest – humiliate him – by finding another place to make him ache.

He wants to pull away.

He wants to moan into it.

He wants to –

“Look at you,” you pant above him. “Fucking love it.”

He groans with a shake of his head. Another sucker tugs at his left nipple and his hips twitch – an involuntary jerk that makes his cock slap against the tentacle slicking it. Sap strings between them like spit.

And still, Bucky doesn’t stop eating you out. His jaw aches, his nose is wet with your slick, and still he devours you like he’s starving – because maybe he is. Maybe you’re the only thing keeping him tethered while everything else drags him under.

His hips jerk involuntarily. His tongue falters for a second on your clit.

And then it hits him.

He comes with a guttural groan against your pussy – buried there as his orgasm tears through him, the first thick ropes of cum are wrung out of him, hot and heavy. The kind of orgasm that hollows him out and fills him up all at once.

Bucky doesn’t thrust, he thrashes. Every nerve burns as hot cum spills out in thick, wet spurts across Nereus’ glistening centre mass. It’s messy, primal – spurt after spurt, creamy and obscene, smearing across tentacles already coated in your slick.

And Nereus reacts like it’s never been fed so good.

Tentacles ripple. The whole structure sings. Bucky feels it in the way the tentacles around both of you pulse tighter, squeeze harder, start to shift their tempo. One coils tighter around your ankle like it’s bracing you, another shifts to drag through the shared mess between your legs – spreading it, pressing it low, like it wants to feed the soil below.

Mix it. Slick it. Use it.

You come again watching him fall apart.

Your hands are bound, legs spread, chest heaving. And when Bucky glances up through the haze of sap and shame, he sees it: your eyes wide, your body shuddering, and then –

Your orgasm rips through you, vicious and wet – a soaker. It coats Bucky’s face, chin, chest. Spit, sap, slick – it’s everywhere. Bucky’s jaw is slack, mouth open like he’s forgotten how to close it. He laps instinctively, groaning through it, hungry and dazed.

And Nereus snaps. Because your second orgasm didn’t go to it, Nereus is not satisfied.

Another tentacle slips behind Bucky again – coiling under his balls and sliding back, unrelenting.

“Fuck –” he gasps, body arching. “No, no – wait –”

He doesn’t mean it.

Or maybe he does, but Nereus doesn’t care.

The tentacle between his cheeks doesn’t wait this time. It’s rougher now. He stutters – moans – hips jolting forward even as he pants like he’s ashamed of it. Because it hurts. Because it’s too much. Because he’s never been stretched like this, not even close. And his cock stays hard anyway. Harder, even.

Then Nereus jerks him back, pushing him into the floor – into the tide beneath you both. The water is shallow – waves barely cresting over the toe of his boot – but it surges up around his ribs, his chin, splashing high as he lands.

He doesn’t even have time to gasp.

It flips him roughly onto his stomach, presses down between his shoulder blades until he’s pinned there. His cheek smacks the floor, lips breaking the surface, but his nose is under – and it doesn’t matter how shallow the water is when you can’t lift your head.

The stone is slick beneath Bucky. The water is warm and salty, sweetened where there’s your slick and Nereus’s sap. It’s everywhere now – soaking through his hair, beading against his skin. He chokes on it. Coughs. One arm jerks up in reflex, but a thick tentacle coils tight around his wrist, and holds.

And still, Nereus doesn’t stop.

Another tentacle drags beneath his hips – slow, greedy – and curls between his legs again, grinding up between his ass and his aching cock like it owns him. Like it’s checking to see if he’s hard again yet, or punishing him for not being.

Super soldier lung capacity is impressive, but Bucky is still human, and all humans need to breathe.

Water rushes up over his mouth, up his nose. He sputters, trying to lift his head – can’t. He chokes on it, on his own spit, on the mess slicking his throat. Everything is heat and pressure and the cruel rhythm pounding into him, until his body doesn’t know if it’s drowning or coming.

And maybe it’s both.

The tentacle inside him doesn’t relent. It drives in deep, curling upward like it’s trying to split him open from the inside out. Then it finds his prostate – rubs hard – and he jolts, gasping like he’s been shocked. No one’s ever touched him there before. Not like this. Not rough and relentless and mean. It keeps hitting it, over and over, until he’s dripping, shaking, pathetic. And Nereus only presses harder.

You watch his ruin with a strange sort of sadistic delight.

His face half-drowned against the wet stone. Arms pinned. Ass up and trembling as that thick tentacle spears into him again, merciless and deep. Another wraps snug under his balls, pulsing in time – stroking, squeezing – like it’s daring him to break.

You clench down around the pressure inside you, cunt twitching with greedy heat. Watching him like this – so completely helpless, so thoroughly fucked – it lights something awful in you.

And then – he lifts his eyes.

Or tries to.

The second his lashes lift, Nereus yanks his head up by the hair like it’s showing him off, dragging his mouth out of the water with a brutal jerk. Bucky gasps, sputtering, chest heaving as he chokes on air like it burns. Sap and spit drip from his chin. His whole body twitches as he breathes, shoulders tight, hips fucking back onto the thing inside him like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

He groans, low and guttural, like the act of being watched is the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. His hips jerk as the tentacle inside him curls again, deliberate, deeper. His cock is rock hard, red and leaking, bobbing untouched with every thrust. He doesn’t even try to hide it. The sap in his bloodstream is singing, and the shame of it all makes it worse.

The sounds that tear out of him – low, guttural, desperate – it feeds you.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

His mouth opens – but words don’t come out.

Just the raw, broken sound of a man being split open, used, fucked too deep for pride.

Nereus holds him there for another moment, like it’s waiting.

He doesn’t answer you. So it shoves his head back down, and you watch it all with sick, hungry pleasure.

And as you watch the water splashing, a low, fucked-out groan bubbling up from his throat, something inside you snaps.

You want more.

Like it hears the thought, Nereus responds.

The tentacles surge beneath you, slick and strong, curling around your waist, your thighs. Your breath catches as you're hauled higher, as the thick one inside you thrusts deeper, right where you're already sore from earlier, dragging a raw little gasp out of you.

You don’t even get to moan. Not really.

The tentacle inside you is already thick – already filling you more than anything ever has, and your body’s clenching around it, desperate to adjust, to hold it in. But Nereus isn’t finished. Not even close.

A second tendril slithers up between your thighs – slick, pulsing with heat – and nudges against your soaked entrance.

“Wait – ah – fuck, it’s – ” you whimper, but the protest melts as the tip begins to force its way in.

It stretches you wide. Wider than you should be. Wider than anyone should ever take.

The first one shifts just to make room, dragging along your raw walls, and the second pushes deeper, slow and merciless. Pressure builds with every inch. Burns. You're so full you think you might split.

Your legs twitch violently, eyes rolling back.

The wet squelch as both tentacles thrust together is obscene. And it only gets worse when they start to move – one dragging back, the other plunging deeper, fucking you in a brutal, alternating rhythm that has your cunt fluttering and clenching like it’s trying to decide which one to milk harder.

You can’t breathe. Can’t think.

Your back arches with the force of it. It’s not even pleasure anymore – it’s need. It’s exhaustion. It’s your cunt fluttering and squeezing around something that never stops moving, never stops pushing deeper, as though trying to reach your womb and stay there.

Somewhere below, you hear Bucky groan.

He’s not faring much better.

Tentacles still paw at his cock – dragging along the shaft, milking the sensitive tip, playing with the heavy weight of his balls like it’s a toy meant for them. He’s leaking again, globs of arousal dripping into the sea water. Slick clings to his thighs, his chest, his face. Sap beads in the hollows of his collarbone. He looks wrecked.

And when another tentacle wraps low around your hips, forces you forward – and forward again – and forward once more, until you’re bucking like an animal on instinct alone –

Bucky breaks, straining towards you; he’d give anything to just get his hands on your skin.

The tentacle gripping the back of his head dunks him under again – water rushing up his nose, into his mouth – and this time it holds him longer. The tentacle around his cock pumps him in slow, deliberate strokes.

Pressure builds like a vice, like a reward, and when his lungs start to really scream for air, when his body jerks in reflexive panic, he’s yanked back up again.

Gasping, spluttering, exposed to air for only a second before something thick drives up into his ass with brutal force. He cries out, wet and raw, but it’s swallowed instantly when he’s plunged down again.

He thrashes. Not to escape, but to come.

Under. Up. Under again. Each cycle worse than the last – no rest, no mercy – until there’s only the drag of lungs robbed of breath, the flood of sap through his veins, the unrelenting pressure of being filled, stretched, stroked, used.

But his eyes find yours.

Soaked, wrecked, dazed – and still so horribly aroused.

You reach out for him without thinking. Just a breathless little sound – maybe his name – and something in Nereus responds.

And then Bucky’s being pulled forward, slamming into your body like gravity wants you fused. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh – cock throbbing between you, his spine still shuddering around the tendrils inside him.

Mouths crash. Teeth knock. His tongue pushes past your lips without finesse – tasting sap, tasting you, tasting himself. You moan into it, dizzy with how hard you’re clenching around your own stretch.

You taste desperation on his tongue.

He drinks relief from yours.

And when your lips part, when your breath hitches against his cheek – he moans like it hurts, like he’s been drowning without you.

Your mouths are still pressed together when another tentacle – not thick, but long and sinuous – snakes up behind your knees and shoves them open, tilting your hips until you’re spread open beneath him.

Bucky groans into your mouth. He’s still kissing you when a tentacle winds tight around his cock, every throb of his arousal wrapped in unnatural muscle.

And he’s right there. Between your legs. Staring down at you like he’s lost the last of his control.

If Bucky was considered big before, now he feels monstrous – his cock is flushed dark, swollen with need, fat with swollen veins and ridges left by the tentacle’s grip.

“Bucky –”

“I know,” he cuts in, voice wrecked. “You can do this. Just – fuck, hold still.”

They continue to stroke his angry red length as he lines himself up with your ready, greedy, pussy that has been stretched out by the two thick tentacles that had taken turns bullying your cunt.

Then he thrusts.

Not careful. Not gentle. Just in. All at once.

You cry out – the stretch is brutal, the ridged pressure filthy – and he groans like he’s dying, hips snapping forward again before you’ve even caught up.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, sinking his cock deeper. “I know it’s too much – but – fuck – I need you.”

He bottoms out with a strangled sound – half groan, half gasp – and then he’s moving. Because he can’t not. The goo is truly well in his blood now, burning through every inch of reason left in him. Every nerve begs for friction, for heat, for release.

You scream his name and get no answer.

What you get is more. More tentacles. More motion. Something glides up your spine and curls behind your neck, dragging you into another kiss while you’re getting fucked from underneath.

Bucky’s hands scrabble uselessly at your thighs – he’s trying to hold on, to anchor himself – but his rhythm is sloppy, erratic, frantic. A tentacle winds around his wrists and pins them behind your back, locking him to you, like it doesn’t trust him not to pull away.

Bucky’s fucking you hard now – really fucking you – thrusts deep and punishing, like he’s trying to fuck the tentacle off his own cock. Except it’s not coming off. It’s wrapped tight, spiralled down the base like a second fist, squeezing every time he bottoms out.

And each time he snaps his hips, you feel it.

You see it –

That thick, obscene bulge that punches into your belly, pressing up from under your cervix like a living, pulsing knot. The tentacle around your middle tightens, hugging the swell of your overstretched abdomen like it’s admiring the damage.

Bucky’s panting grows louder, more erratic. He’s gone – lost in it. Pupils blown, mouth slack, hips moving without thought. The sap’s wrecked him.

His voice is hoarse. “Gonna – fuck, I’m gonna –”

“Me too –” you choke out. “Please – just –”

It hits both of you at the same time – violent and uncontrollable. You clench down around him like a vice just as he jerks inside you, and the tentacle coils pulse in tandem, milking both of you like Nereus planned this.

But you don’t get to ride it out.

Not fully.

Because just as your hips start to shudder – just as your orgasm crests and his cock kicks inside you –

Nereus yanks him back.

A violent jerk. Not cruel, but absolute. Ripped out of you mid-release. Your cunt spasms around nothing – still twitching, still leaking – and Bucky’s cock erupts, unplugged, spraying thick spurts of cum across the slick, writhing mass below.

Yours follows. A gush. A squirt. Everything spilling out of you as if your body’s trying to chase the high he left behind.

The mess lands directly on Nereus’ centre. Hot. Wet. Mixed. Yours and his – sap, sweat, sex – all of it dripping together onto those hungry tendrils.

Nereus pulses.

Shudders.

And the chamber fills with a low, resonant hum – something between satisfaction and hunger.

Tentacles tighten. Not cruelly – but firmly. Reminding you that your pleasure was never its goal, just a by-product of satiating its hunger.

And it’s not finished.

The sap on your skin never dries. It glows faintly in the low light, keeping both of you suspended in that feverish afterglow where arousal doesn’t ebb but only resets.

Minutes collapse into hours, or maybe it’s the other way around – the only thing either of you can register is the endless slick slap of bodies, the stretch, the heat, the way Nereus never. Fucking. Stops.

Tentacles work into every hole they can find. One becomes two, two becomes more. Your ass is stretched wide around writhing girth, slicked and stuffed until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but sob and moan and take it.

Bucky’s voice breaks beside you, hoarse from too much gasping, too much begging. He’s trembling, body arching as he gets fucked from both ends – thick tentacles plunging into his ass while another flattens around his cock, jerking him until he’s spilling again, and again, and again.

You’re both so wet, so raw, slicked in fluids you can’t name. Each orgasm only draws more out of you – more need, more filth, more surrender. Nereus doesn’t pause and it certainly doesn’t relent.

It fucks you through each high, uncaring if you’re crying or limp or barely conscious. When you fall slack – too tired to move – it lifts your body like a doll and keeps going. Makes you grind. Ride. Buck.

It uses Bucky the same way. Folds him over you. Makes you fuck each other, dripping and twitching and overstimulated while its own limbs piston into every gap it can find.

You lose count of how many times you’ve cum. You lose your voice. You forget your name. All you know is open – wider – again – please –

And it still doesn’t stop.

It keeps fucking. Keeps feeding. Keeps taking.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until you’re wrung out. Until you’re shaking, dry, sore, ruined. Until your thighs are stuck open and Bucky can’t stop twitching. Until pleasure is pain and pain is the only thing that feels real and even that is slipping.

Until there’s nothing left.

***

At some point – time long since lost – the rhythm stops. Not abruptly. It just… winds down, like a storm burning itself out.

The tentacles slow. One last lazy curl around your thigh, one last tremor of pressure around Bucky’s hips, and then everything goes still. The air is thick with steam and salt and whatever the hell just happened. You can hear the sea again.

Then, with disarming gentleness, Nereus lowers you both to the floor. It’s almost affectionate about it – arranging you side by side, smoothing a slick tendril over your hair like it’s tucking you in.

Bucky’s too dazed to speak. You can feel him breathing beside you, chest hitching, eyes wide and vacant. Sap glistens down the planes of his torso; your body not faring any much better.

And then Nereus… shivers. Once. Twice. Like a satisfied sigh.

Before your eyes, the great writhing mass begins to contract, folding in on itself with wet, satisfied slurps. The tentacles coil tighter, shorter, until what’s left looks almost domestic – a lush, glossy green tangle that’s fern-like, with a few drooping tendrils spilling over the edge of the planter like leaves.

You blink. Bucky blinks. The plant… wiggles.

“Well,” you manage, voice shredded. “Guess it’s, uh, domesticated?”

Bucky just stares at it, jaw working, then finally rasping, “We’re never telling anyone about this.”

Nereus shimmers faintly in agreement.

***

Back at the Watchtower, the elevator doors slide open with a ding that feels almost mocking. The team is arrayed across the couches in various states of boredom. Valentina’s perched like a spider in silk at the head of it all, one manicured brow lifting.

You and Bucky hobble out into the common room, heads held high but moving with the slow dignity of people who have been thoroughly put through the wringer.

You both look like hell: hair damp, clothes dishevelled, bruises in the distinct shape of suction cups dotting every inch of uncovered skin. Bucky’s suit is ripped halfway down the side; one metal shoulder glinting through what used to be tactical black.

He’s got Nereus clutched in both hands, held far away from his body in a cheap orange Home Depot pot, weary if at any moment it might change its mind and lunge at him again. The fern-thing’s glossy tendrils sway with each step, and one of them is looped around your pinky like a child holding hands.

Nobody speaks. Not at first.

John glances up from his phone, takes one look at the state of you both – soaked, bruised, visibly wrecked – and snorts. “Jesus. How badly did you two get fucked by the mission?”

The silence that follows is cavernous.

Nereus rustles. One tendril lifts and gives him a slow, damp little wave. Bob stares in open-mouth wonderment.

You blink at John, voice still hoarse. “Pretty literally, actually.”

Bucky exhales through his nose, sets the pot down on the coffee table like it’s a live grenade. “We’re debriefing never.”

Valentina’s grin is sharp enough to cut glass. “Oh, I’ll be needing a full report,” she purrs. “Preferably with diagrams.”

Bucky turns on his heel and walks out. You trail after him, middle finger raised behind your back.

Nereus’ tentacle-leaves give a happy little shake, like applause.

A/N: i don't need it to be october to be freaked out HAHA! this is a bit heavier than what i usually do, but i hope everyone had a fun time~

ps: if anyone's wondering where the call sign came from, reader is called Ace because in the usual military fashion, it's not meant to be a compliment HAHA - here reader famously flunked an entire series of tests (which hasn't been done before) hence "aced the examinations" but cos her power is too useful, they were willing to keep her around

♡ more bucky from me ♡

BANNER CREDIT: @/juniebjonesin

[literatureatthebowofnails]

Bucky can’t believe his ears. You were choking to death on tentacles and you’re staring him like he’s the problem.

I love this fic so much!!!

[literatureatthebowofnails]

Today I used the phrase "down the Dementia Raven Way" to express that my aging aunt is losing her lucidity

[browsethestacksofficial]

Ant-Man

Art by Dean Kotz

[theavengers]

Official Trailer for Avengers: Doomsday (2026)

[talontarget]

jkr is literally posting upskirt photos to her social media. when will it finally get through to harry potter fans that their support makes her feel confident and correct enough to do things like this

[dodykeahedron]

If the holocaust denialism SOMEHOW wasn't enough for you to shut up about your favourite kids book as an adult; JK Rowling just committed a sex crime IRL against a transgender woman.

When do we start to care.