premise: druig loves to see how many times he can make you come by only using his mind.
pairing: druig x (f)reader
warnings: sexual content (unprotected sex), creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, mentions of safe word, druig using his powers on reader (consensually), pet names (my girl, pretty girl), no spoilers! you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked.
word count: 1.70k+
etc: look i’m not saying i’m obsessed with druig but i’m also not saying i’m NOT obsessed. will i let this man consume me and be all i talk about for months? absolutely. and this little idea wouldn’t leave my head hours after seeing the movie so it’s probably not the best, but i just need more of this man in my life ok!
“I can’t–” your voice is hoarse from moaning, pleading, whining. You try to form a coherent sentence but only fragments are able to process in your mind and slip out from your wet swollen lips. Your body burns from sensitivity and pleasure that only seems to build more and more with each time you cum. Each time he fucks up into you. Each time you feel that beautiful haze in your mind.
And you’ve lost count as to how many times you’ve been thrown over the precipice. How many times you’ve begged and pleaded that you couldn’t cum anymore, even when the pleasure never seems to end, never seems to stop building. And Druig loves it. Loves to fill your mind with nothing but him, nothing but pleasure and a demand for you to keep cumming until you’re begging him to let up, or for more. The only sounds in the room coming for your aching throat, the squelch of your soaked cunt and the slap from his hips as he fucks you harder.
His hands are on either side of your head, his fingers digging into your hair as he holds you there, bending you so your foreheads are pressed together. His hips thrusting up into you sharp, harsh, fast. “Oh, I know you can take more.” He grins pounds into you harder, swallows down your moan when he kisses you devouring your mouth and moans as he doesn’t let up. Makes your already fucked out canal take more, he wants you to feel it tomorrow, the next day, after that. He wants you so sensitive that when you move all you can think about is him. 
“Cant,” you breathe, whimper. “Too much, please, Druig.” His soft chuckle sends a flutter through you, pools in your belly at his cruelty that you love so much. You know all you’d have to do is whisper those two words and this would all be over. He would stop, wrap you up, help you come down, there would be no hesitation. But the two of you get some sick satisfaction at seeing how many times Druig can make you cum untouched by his everything but his mind. And even with your body shaking and the wetness coating your thighs, your throat raw and burning with each moan. Part of you still wants more. Wants to feel even more pleasure. Your core burning so deliciously from his relentlessness, from how many times you’ve tightened and fluttered around his thick cock.
“You can do one more, I know you can.” Druig’s breath is hot against your lips, as he stares up at you, “you’ve been so good, you can do one more for me right?” He’s slowed his thrusts just slightly, if only to allow you to focus on his words, to give you the slightest of breaks before he goes back to pounding into you leaving you a whimpering mess again. One of his hands runs down your neck, thumb skating across your jaw and lifting your chin separating your foreheads so the two of you can properly look at each other. And you’re so beautiful like this he thinks; cheeks warm and tinted with heat and lust, eyes heavy from exhaustion. Your mouth swollen and coated from the two of you. He’s done this to you, made you a fucked out mess all because of his cock and mind, and fuck he loves it. “Do you want to stop, hmm?” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, “we can stop, pretty girl.”
The over sensitive part of your body and mind is screaming yes, but the slow drag of his cock thrusting up into you, the languid gentle motion rebuilding that mountain of pleasure inside that’s begging for more. To reach, to jump off of, to let Druig make you cum again and again until you really can’t take anymore. Fuck you until neither of you know anything but this feeling, but this heat and pleasure shared together.
So you shake your head, whimper a soft ‘no’ that makes Druig smirk, pull your lips to his in a passionate kiss full of tongue, and teeth and moans. “Good girl.” The praise alone makes you whimper, but as you feel his thrusts pick back up, his hand going to your hip to push you down as he thrusts up. Your over sensitive core burning and begging for more. Your moans loud and incoherent. Your nails digging into his chest, your back arching slightly when you feel the palm of his hand make contact with your ass cheek in a hard slap. The deep groan Druig let’s out against your lips makes your stomach flutter. “My pretty girl, look at me.” You do, your body bracing to go over that precipice, to feel that deep bone shattering pleasure. To see his eyes glow that beautiful gold before all you can see is him, Druig, all you can feel is him in every fiber of your nerve endings. Your mind body and soul being flooded and taken over by him, his pleasures, his desires. Sending you through an euphoric bliss that even when it’s too much it’s not enough.
And when he does it your body freezes, trembles, shakes, your mind filled with that beautiful haze, every fiber of you letting him take over, letting him control you so willingly. Until your vision clears and you’re meeting Druig’s gaze, moaning and shaking as your orgasm rolls through you and he fucks into you while you clench and grip onto his cock. “That’s my girl, good, so good.” He groans, the warmth of his palm on your cheek grounds you. Druig watches your mouth hang open, eyes go from his golden hold to your beautiful ones. Watches your body tremble and wither above him, your cunt flutter and clench against his cock making him thrust faster, harder, until he’s finishing seconds after you. Praises on his lips, kisses and teeth pressed to your lips, shoulder, any flesh he can reach. Any part of you he can touch and consume.
Your body slumps over to rest on his chest, exhaustion completely taking you out. The after effects from another orgasm burning hot and white through your body and core. The two of you catching your breath, Druig running his fingers along your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “Think you broke your record.” He teases.
premise: your innocence does little to hide the dark parts of yourself from druig.
pairing: druig x (f)!eternal reader
warnings: just smutty smut, 18+ only minors dni, a dash of dom!druig, pain kink, slight dumbfication, spanking, choking, dirty talk, slight corruption kink, pet names (love, my girl). you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on.
word count: 1.02k
etc: don’t mind me just collectively putting together a bunch of thot asks and turning them into something short and filthy and to the point!
“Bet you thought about this all night, didn’t you?” Druig’s voice is deep and rough in your ear as he fucks you from behind. The hand at your neck is sweltering and squeezes the lightest of pressure to your column cutting off your breath only barley, as he pushes your neck up so you top half is bent to meet his face. His lips grazing your cheek as he speaks.
Your only retort is a choked whimper as Druig’s hips rut against your ass, his cock deep inside of you. The slow drag of it against your wet and sensitive walls has your hands fisting the sheets to the point your wrists start to ache.
The thickness of Druig’s cock making you burn and stretch taut around him. One of the many reasons you loved when he fucked you in this position, that delicious burn that slowly turns into a raw ache sedating you. And the thrusts he delivers always feel more deep, more full. His thickness, his length, the drag of his cock unrelenting and too much. You could feel him in places not normally felt in other positions and even as he felt too big, stretched you too full, it still felt so damn good.
“You may have everyone else fooled but not me, love. All your innocent looks and shy laughs.” His soft breathy grunts against your hot skin make your breath hitch, make you push back against him the slightest. “I could see the way you kept looking to me all night. How you’d play it off when our eyes met, as if you were just stealing an innocent glance. And not thinking about how bad you wanted to be fucked.” Druig delivers an extra hard thrust that makes your moan turn into a squeal, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The pain from him being so deep does little to outweigh the pleasure and your want for him to go faster, to keep going harder until all you can feel is Druig for days.
“My poor, poor girl. It must be hard to have to act like the good and innocent one when deep down all you want is to be ruined by my hands, and my cock.” His thrusts pick up again, his hips slapping against your ass, your moans growing in octave as much as the hand around your throat allows. Choked whimpers and beggings falling from your lips more than anything. “You like when I use you, love? Love when I ruin that little cunt of yours, fucking you until your sensitive and sore. Hmm?” He coos against your cheek as he positions himself closer to your back so he can reach your face to press a nipping kiss to the side of your jaw.
You don’t expect the sting on your ass from his other hand, it making your body arch more into him from the simultaneous pain of his palm and his cock. And you’d never lie or deny Druig of hearing what he wanted, especially when he’s right. You’d thought about him fucking you all night as you sat across from him amongst the other Eternals as you all sat at the dinning table. Jokes and conversation around you playing in the back of your mind like white noise as you stole glances Druig’s way. As you watched his fingers pull at some grapes, bring them to his mouth and chew them slow, the swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip to wipe away access juices that lingered making your cheeks feel hot and legs press together. Your mind quickly moving to that dark part of memories of having his mouth on you nights before. And the way your thighs still burned a little from the bruises he left there from his fingertips, and the small bite mark on your hip that was slowly fading.
That Druig liked to press on with light fingers when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His smirk against the side of your neck when you flinched slightly, swallowing down a whimper as you hoped and prayed the others were too busy with what they were doing to notice the two of you—silently thanking God that only Druig could read minds and knew your filthy thoughts of wanting him to bend you over and fuck you right then and there. To liter your body with more love marks from his beautiful mouth.
“Answer me, love.” His chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles softly, “I know you’re so cock drunk right now, your little mind can barley think of anything other than me.” You don’t miss the soft fuck that falls from his lips, the vulgar word sounding so angelic and beautiful mixed with his accent. “I love you like this. Love that you let me fuck into you like you were only made to home my cock. Makes it all worth it to see you wince and shift uncomfortably the next day, trying to act normal in front of everyone when in reality your womb is sore and raw from me.”
“Yes, Druig,” your whimper is more of a sob that burns your throat. Adding to the fire that burns throughout your entire body, that aches and keens, and begs to be completely over taken by this man. Mind body and soul. Druig didn’t need to control your mind to have you begging, to have you bend to his demands—wants or desires. You did that all on your own. Loved doing so. The man pressed at your back having completely corrupted your body and mind in more ways than either of you could really grasp in the light of day.
But nights like these it was clear as day. Written in black scroll and condemning the two of you in etched kisses, nips, and thrusts.
Could you do 16 and 19 on the dirty prompts for Druig?? Please and thank you
“I can’t sleep if I’m not inside you.” / “‘No’? You’re such a bad liar.”
pairing: druig x (f)eternal!reader
warnings: cock warming (soft of) that turns into sex, a very needy druig, pet names (my love/love), druig speaking telepathically to reader, mentions of the other eternals, dry humping, teasing. minors dni or you will be blocked.
word count: 1.8k
etc: i may have let this get away from me a little bit but who can blame me?!??? when it comes to this man my only mood is feral.
send me a prompt !
You’ve felt him tossing and turn for over an hour now. Felt his distress with each turn and soft huff vibrate the bed. Your back is to him, but you’re sure his features are as cool as ever as his body is the opposite; restless. You’ve been on the cusp of sleep ever since sinking into bed, Thena having made all of you work overtime on an action plan all day. And as much as you loved the woman, her work ethic was draining.
Just when you’re about to turn and ask him if everything is alright you feel his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer to his chest. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin. There’s a beat, a silent few minutes of calm where you think he’s finally settled down for the night and your mind slowly drifts to sleep. Only to be brought back when you feel the soft pressure of his lips on the back of your neck, leaving a trail along the exposed flesh he can reach within the crook of it. His hand at your waist rubbing small circles above the waistband of your shorts.
“Druig,” your voice is sleepy and questioning.
“Hmm?” His tone is laced with innocence and softness as he removes his lips from the your skin to rest his head back in the crook of your neck.
“What’re you doing?”
You feel the sigh he lets out rasp through his chest and against your back, his nose nuzzling in the hair at the back of your neck. His voice soft and whiney as he speaks against your skin, “I can’t sleep if I’m not inside you.” As the words come out of his mouth you feel his hips press to your back side, his hardness rubbing against your ass.
Your body reacting as if on command, a small whimper swallowed down your shaky throat. “We have an early morning.” Something that wasn’t an excuse more than it was a fact. And if your body wasn’t filled with the exhaustion of the day you know the minute the two of you got into bed Druig would of been buried inside of you, fucking you nice and slow into the mattress.
“We don’t have to, I just want to be inside of you.” You can hear his voice inside of your head, the telepath reading your thoughts. His hips rut slowly against your ass, you can feel his lashes flutter against your skin. His mouth falling open letting out a breathy, “please.”
And if your body was sleep ridden before it’s awake now. Your fist clenching the sheets beside you, the drag of his clothed cock against you making your core ache, lighting a new fire in your body that has it awake and responsive. “Druig,” you try to swallow down the whimper that threatens at the back of your throat. “We need rest, my love.”
You trusted him enough to know that he wasn’t bluffing when he said the two of you didn’t need to have sex, he didn’t need to finish, to even start. He just needed to be inside of you, feel the warmth of your walls wrapped around him.
But you knew yourself, knew that the minute you felt him stretching you, felt the slow drag of his cock as he filled you to the hilt, until you were so full of him. The two of you connected and whole, you knew you would want more. Need more. That’s how it always went if the two of you didn’t fuck before bed.
“Know you want it to,” he presses his lips to the back of your neck again, let’s breathy whimpers out hotly against your skin as he continues to rub against you.
Your mind is slowly falling in line with your body, letting itself be taken over by Druig, his soft noises going straight to your soaking core. The press of his lips making it harder to breath. But you still find yourself standing a little bit of ground as you shake your head. If the two of you overslept you would never hear the end of it.
“No?” Druig’s boyish smirk spreads against your skin after one last press of his lips. You can feel his fingers begin to move again against the skin above your shorts, before they disappear completely inside of them. His palm cupping your mound, his finger running through your wet folds at the same time he rubs deliciously slow against your ass, and you let a moan slip from your lips. “You’re such a bad liar.”
His other hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it slightly to turn your head as much as it can so your eyes meet. The warmth of his palm making you keen into everywhere he’s touching you, “Please, love. We both need it.” Druig presses his lips to yours in a deep kiss that burns through you. Completely takes over your body, and any reason as to why you two need to sleep dies somewhere in the back of your head.
As soon as you moan “okay” against his lips it takes him little time to remove the confines of both of your bottom half’s, and then the head of his cock is at your entrance and it’s just a little harder for the both of you to breathe. Your foreheads touching, moans mixing as Druig pushes inside of you so so slow. The drag of his cock stretching you in the best way, your stomach fluttering once he’s seethed fully inside of you.
And when he pulls back to press another kiss to your lips the two of you share a look, knowing, understanding that just this won’t be enough. It’s never enough, the two of you always needing more of each other; in every way. As if the two of you were destined to never be okay without some type of contact, touch, knowing from the other. Druig always needed to feel your body pressed and rocking against his, your beautiful moans in his neck, against his lips, the way you grip his cock as you cum. Amongst so much more, because that’s what kind of love the two of you shared together; more. More understanding, more strength together.
He thinks he’ll need you forever. And he’s more than okay with that if it means he gets to have you like this, touch you like this, watch you like this; pressed to his back trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you slow.
premise: after the emergence, after almost losing druig, the events haunt you in your sleep. but when you wake druig is there to calm you and remind you that he’s not going anywhere.
pairing: druig x (f)eternal!reader
warnings: small dream sequence in the beginning, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lots of talks of feelings and loss, slight sub!druig, super sappy, angsty, i suck at writing fluff and pacing so don’t act surprised when it sucks, eternals spoilers!! you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked.
word count: 2.1k+
etc: i know what you’re thinking: am i sick of writing soft!druig smut with nothing but forehead touches and super intense sap? the answer is no and i never will be! and i hope you all get the hint in this that druig is the king of eating pussy and has sub counterparts that make me weak xoxo.
“He’s gone. We have to go.”
“There’s nothing else we can do.”
“We have to leave him.”
Their voices burn your ears, each syllable sounding like a blowtorch to your ear drum. Your head ringing so loudly, your body shaking with pain, the heartbreak mixed with grief and guilt making your chest feel as if it might implode; all you can do is scream. Scream so loud that you think your throat might start to bleed from how it burns.
But it’s all you can do as you look down at him, his lifeless body, the greying of his skin. His beautiful blue eyes now dull and shadowed. He was dead. Gone. And now you were alone with a whole in your heart and a black abyss forming where your soul should be, sucking in every last feeling and memory you had of him until it’s a festering ball of poison that’s a constant reminder that he’s gone forever.
When you wake your throat feels just as raw as it did in your fevered dream. A sheen of sweat has gathered along your forehead and neck, and you can’t seem to catch your breath, can’t seem to come back to reality. Can’t get the image of your lovers greyed lifeless face out of your mind, can’t stop picturing Ikaris pull him through the sky and slam him to the ground as if he were nothing, meant nothing. Ending your entire world with just one fatal swoop and flash of his eyes.
You feel the tears run down your cheek before you even comprehend that you’re crying, that your grip on the sheets is straining your wrist.
Until you feel his hands on you, at your neck, your cheek, your wrist. “Hey, hey,” his voice is soft and filled with concern, strained with it as he pushes the sheets off of the both of you, moving so he’s now positioned at your front where he can see you better. “Shh, shh.” His hands bracket each side of your cheeks.
“Druig,” it’s soft, choked but it pangs your heart to say his name. Burns your throat even more. There’s a tear filled haze over your eyes that stings as you try to blink them away. “You–“ your breath can’t seem to go back to normal the more you try to speak, the more you cry. “You were gone. Ikaris–“
“Shh, I’m not gone.” Druig pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you firmly. Your body shaking against his naked chest. “I’m right here,” he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head, the tips of his fingers running down your back slow and soothingly.
The two of you sit like that for a while, your body coming down. Draining all the adrenaline and heartache from your nightmare—that was almost a reality. Could of been your reality. Your breath returning back to normal as you breathe in each shaky intake of air nice and slow. Your cheek is wet against his shoulder from your tears, you do your best to wipe them as you lift your head and pull back from him. And now you can really see him. The tears no longer in your eyes, the image of his grey and shadowed face gone. He’s here, he’s alive. Your Druig.
“You okay?” His brows are etched with worry as his thumb runs along your cheek.
You nod slowly, sniffing. Your eyes checking him all over for any sign that this might actually be part of the dream. That this wasn’t your reality right now. That he was really gone and this was some fevered apparition of him. “I-you were gone. Ikaris had killed you. I saw your..” you trail off as your chin starts to wobble. The tears threatening to come back, the hurt waiting to bring you down again.
“Ikaris never stood a chance,” he reassures, the upturn of his cocky grin making you chuckle softly. But there’s still sadness in your eyes and it makes Druig’s chest ache. A feeling he knew all too well, one he didn’t like, especially when it came to you. He’d be lying if he said there hadn’t been fear deep within his marrow when he thought this would be it, that Ikaris was finally going to shut him up for good. Images of the times the two of you had spent over centuries together, your beautiful laugh, and the way you kissed him when he wouldn’t shut up, all flashing through his head as he laid helpless in the bedrock.
But Ikaris didn’t kill him. A few scratches were nothing compared to what could of happened. The two of you losing each other. But it had happened the two of you got out of it safe and together, and something like that was never going to happen again, Druig would not allow it to.
He takes your hand and presses it firmly to his chest, his heartbeat beating against your palm. The warmth of his skin against yours once again breathing life into you, making your heart swell and pump faster. “I’m here. I’m alive. No one’s ever going to take me away from you.” He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your fingers, “I promise.”
And something within you breaks. Breaks in a way that can only be put back together by him, can only be touched, pressed, kissed, fucked by him. Bring you back to being whole. Remind you that it’s you and him forever. That it would take more than an angry Eternal or God to rip the two of you apart again.
You don’t recollect yourself moaning his name until your back is pressed into the mattress and Druig is on top of you, your sleep clothes gone, his mouth on yours; your cheek, your neck, against your chest where your heartbeats just a little faster. His hands are massaging your breasts in his palm, running the pad of his thumb over your nipple making you moan into his mouth.
And Druig swallows it down, every moan every whimper until all he can breathe and all he can taste is you. His love. His everything.
His lips are searing wet and hot as he kisses down your chest and sternum. Your breath and eyes heavy as you watch him make his descent until he presses a kiss to the top of your mound, his eyes staring up at you before fluttering closed as you feel his tongue move past his lips and slowly run over your clit. Your breath hitching in your throat as your back arches from the bed, your hand going to the top of Druig’s head as your fingers run through his soft hair.
To watch you like this was a gift to him.
Druig remembers watching plenty of artists paint masterpieces throughout the centuries he’s been alive. He remembers watching the beauty of history unfold before his eyes, read poetry from infamous poets. Had people bow down to him as if he were some kind of God. But no matter how many beautiful paintings he saw come to life, or sonnets of everlasting poetry he heard, or the praise from humans; nothing looked or sounded as good as you did when he was between your legs.
The way your moans vibrated through your body, toppling over your beautiful lips and filling the room with a symphony of whimpers and need. The way your legs shook around him, the way your skin felt against his palms when he gripped your thighs, licked, kissed, bit them. And the way you let yourself be consumed by him, pleasured by him, as if this was his last meal and your last time savoring the pleasure. The way you both let it wash all over you and consume you until every nerve ending felt as if stars were exploding in your blood stream. A feeling neither of you could fully comprehend other than; you needed this. Needed each other.
Druig loved having his mouth on every part of you, loved letting you know that your body was a temple he wanted to pray to everyday. Touch everyday if only to feel that beautiful spark it gave off. To be a part of you and the space you took up, the life you breathed into a room, into him. But the telepath was not shy in admitting while he loved devouring every part of you; his mouth watered at the thought of it being on your pussy, daily. He couldn’t look at you without thinking it, wanting it, to taste, kiss, and devour your wet cunt. It was his favorite meal, his favorite treat. Nothing tasted as good as you did, he got drunk off of you. His tongue lapping at your juices, lips wrapping around that sweet bundle of nerves that had you pulling his hair and his eyes rolling back in his head.
And after he’s made you come twice over, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you try to pull him up, “please, Druig,” you moan. His boyish grin making your stomach flutter as he lets his tongue run along your wet folds a few more times before pressing a kiss to them and coming back up to meet your lips, his tongue bombarding your mouth, giving you a taste of your own sweetness.
You let your hand move between the two of you wrapping your fingers around his hardness, as you stroke him slowly. Druig pulling from your lips to let out a breathy groan that fans across your face. His lips even more plump and swollen from his assault between your legs and your own mouth, the wetness that gathers along his bottom lip as he licks them making you want to chase his tongue into his mouth with yours. You’d never get enough of his lips, of kissing him, of any part of him.
The tip of his cock skates across your sensitive clit as you grind your hips against him, your body shaking from the overstimulation and the ache to have him inside of you.
“Fuck,” Druig’s voice is low and deep, barley above a whisper. “Want to be inside of you, love.” He presses a kiss to your lips, runs his hand along the junction of your neck where your jaw meets it, presses his thumb below it to push your gaze up to meet his. “I need it.” Your body trembles at the seriousness in his eyes that mixes so beautiful with lust and desire. His tone on the cusp of begging.
And when he slips inside of you the low breathy grown that falls from both of your lips is dizzying. Both of you feeling that missing ache become whole as Druig bottoms out inside of you. The drag of his cock as he fucks you slow makes your mind go hazy, wild. You have to press your head into the crook of his neck, bite at the flesh there to stop yourself from being too loud. To stop yourself from shaking because it’s so good, he feels so good inside of you. So thick, so big. His moans fanning out at the shell of your ear, as his fingers rub slow circles in time with his thrusts against your clit, quickly pushing you over the edge again. His name a choked sob on your lips.
Druig keeps fucking you through it, that slow gentle way full of passion and heat. Keeps whispering sweet words and moans in your ear, “I’m never going to leave you, love. It’s you and me for centuries to come.” and “Fucking you like this for the rest of my life is the only treasure I need.” And then he’s moving from the crook of your neck to look down at you, to watch your beautiful face contort with pleasure as he fucks you, as you take him so good, so perfect, as if you were made for him, for his cock. For his love.
Your nails digging at his back as he fucks you deeper, a little harder as he feels his release coming. The groans he lets out are nothing short of angels hearings. Your palms press to his cheeks, bringing your foreheads together, hot breath mixed with shaky intakes, “Druig, come for me.” And it takes everything in him not to let his emotions take over as you whisper the words, sending him over the edge buried deep inside of you.
There was a time the only emotion Druig felt was distain and anger. His emotions bottled up and stored away. But then there was you, and then there’s was this. All of it. The shared touches, devotion, love.
And he doesn’t know how he had ever lived without it, and doesn’t think he ever could again.
premise: when bucky hears noises coming from your room he doesn’t expect to open the door and see you playing with yourself. but he’s more than happy to give you a helping hand.
pairing: bucky barnes x (f)reader
warnings: degradation-ish, caught in the act/slight voyeurism, mutual masterbation, cum eating/tasting, use of whore and slut, bucky calling the reader baby. reminder: you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only.
word count: 2.5k
etc: did i skip to day 30 just to post something basically on halloween for you guys even though i have fourteen through twenty nine to still do?? absolutely and we are not going to mention it when i post the rest of the works in november ok? ok! and now that that is settled: i didn’t specify what ‘role’ bucky plays in the readers life so please feel free to cast him as whomever your little heart desires lmao.
♱ kinktober 30.
You hadn’t heard him come in. Didn’t hear his soft knock on your door, the small creak of it opening, or the click of him shutting it. Your mind had been elsewhere, far away and filled with dirty thoughts. Chasing a pleasure that clouded your mind into a haze, filling your own ears with the soft moans that escaped your lips, your walls echoing with the heat and lust that your body was radiating with.
It seemed to be a reoccurring thing. Every time you let your fingers slip below your waist to that aching part of your body that wouldn’t stop until you relieved it, until you slipped your fingers through your wet folds, your legs trembling as your fingers press against that spot that makes your belly burn and ache grow.
Each time you found yourself in this position; legs spread, fingers playing with your weeping cunt. Your mind going to the same place, the same person. No matter how many times you tired to think about something else, someone else. Creating a storyline in your head, the face of your favorite actor, someone with a face you’ve never met, your mind only focused on the dirty positions and words. The ache between your legs dragging on, as if refusing to be sedated until you let your mind drift to him. Be filled with him. Replace the dirty thoughts with him.
Your body reacting to images and fantasies of him faster than any other, your climax quickly forming, building with each dirty word you imagined him whispering in your ear, each touch of his lips, hand, fingers. Until finally your orgasm raked through your body a muffled moan on your lips, the thought of him bringing you that sweet euphoria only he could.
And tonight was no different. Your mind instantly going to him begging him to help you get off, to give you that sedating pleasure you wished was real, could be real so very badly. Your knees bent, legs spread wide, your fingers rubbing circles against your clit as it chased that sweet release.
“Bucky,” you moaned to no one, into the emptiness of your room like you always did. His name, face, body plaguing your mind, your soul, until all you had was the desire you kept locked away for him.
What you didn’t expect to hear minutes after, your soft moans, your breath heavy, was a voice cutting through. A deep voice that you knew all too well. “Fuck..”
And you freeze. Your hand stopping it’s movements, your breath stops, your eyes shoot open, your body working in slow motion as pins and needles replace the aching of pleasure. Your body afraid to even move, to look up and see what you hope is not real, you hoping on a silent prayer that it was just you having an overactive imagination and you didn’t actually hear anything, hear him.
But when you finally feel your limbs start to move, your head lifts from your pillow and your heart sinks when you see him there; illuminated by the small lamp on your bedside table making a soft yellow glow cast over his figure in the rest of the dark, his arms crossed across his chest, his back leaned up against your door. The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smirk.
And your body acts on instinct and embarrassment, grabbing the closest thing to you, a pillow, to cover your naked body. Your legs snapping together almost painfully. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, can feel the heat covering your body turn into anguish.
“If I knew this was what awaited me on the other side of the door I may have thought twice about opening it.” Bucky’s chuckle is breathy and it makes the heat in your body shift again.
“Bucky, I-this-“
“I heard you from outside, I thought maybe there was something wrong. I knocked a few times, you didn’t answer.” He explains, “I figured I’d peak in, just to make sure everything was okay. And then I saw,” he chuckles again, “well you know what I saw. And I should of closed the door, pretend I didn’t see, or hear you.” His gaze on you is intense, his eyes roaming over your body, the pillow doing its job, barley. “And I’m trying to feel bad about it, but it’s real hard when my name sounded so nice on your lips.”
Your breath stops in your throat, a chill running through your body, his words having more of an reaction on you than his stare.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asks it with a seriousness in his voice that makes you shake. Did you want him to leave? The embarrassment that’s slowly oozing from your body saying yes, so you can hide yourself under your covers in shame for days until the both of you forget that this ever happened. But the pleasure and need that’s slowly returning to your body from his intense stare, words, and quirk of a smirk is making you feel differently. The thought of Bucky having seen you with your fingers deep in your cunt, naked body moving and trembling just from the thought of him making desire heat your body once more.
Your bottom lip feels tender under your teeth as you debate. Weighing your options of moral and immoral thoughts and actions. The pros and cons going toe to toe, but your desire quickly overruling them making you shake your head. A slow grin forming on Bucky’s lips.
He moves from the door, walks over to the foot of your bed. And he just stands there for a beat, the two of you holding eye contact, waiting for the other to make a move, to say something, to plan out the next move, set the fate, cross that line that was so clearly lined out in the sand but was now marked up. “What were you thinking about?”
The question makes your cheeks burn even more, your nerves making you sweat, as if this were more embarrassing than him seeing you naked and moaning his name. You swallow, your throat feeling dryer than before. “You,” your voice is shaky. Bucky nods as if to prompt you to continue, “fucking me from behind, into the mattress,” you feel like you can’t breathe, “telling me how much of a slut for you I am.” By the time you finish the sentence your body is shaking, your chest heaving. The reminder of the dirty thoughts making that sweet ache in your core come back in ten folds. Slick gathering at the top of your thighs as you press them closer together, your body begging for more pressure, to return to your previous actions of sedation.
Bucky hums, backs up so his lower half is leaning against your dresser. “Are you?”
“What?”
“A slut for me, are you? Do you fuck yourself with your fingers to me often?”
“Yes,” your voice is breathy and needy.
Bucky’s smirk has returned, his hand gripping either side of the dresser as he stares at you a look of hunger on his face. His eyes seeming almost black in the semi-darkness of the room. “And here I thought I was the only one. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about the same things with my hand wrapped around my cock. Almost hated myself at how much I wanted you because I thought you didn’t feel the same way. But now that I know,” his tongue skates over his bottom lip as he stares at your legs that are not covered by the pillow. “Move the pillow, baby.” His eyes meet yours, “please.”
Part of you wants to shake your head, refuse, say no, that this is as far as you want to take it. That if any more lines are crossed that the two of you might not be able to look at each other in the light of day without it being a problem. As if that line hasn’t already been crossed. As if your mind could form a coherent thought after Bucky’s mention of him touching himself to the thought of you too, that this yearning and lust for the other was mutual. That he wanted to take it further with you, how further you didn’t know. Didn’t care enough to think about it. The prospect of even going further making your body preen in pleasure, crave whatever it could get from him, the man who’s lived in your dirtiest fantasies and dreams for months.
And without much more thought on the matter you find yourself slowly moving the pillow from your body, the cool air of the room and Bucky’s eyes glued to your tits making goosebumps litter your body. The desire in your body taking over, taking your brain back to that hazy buzz as you lean back against the pillow behind you giving him a better view of your chest. Your legs slowly spreading themselves for him, coolness hitting your soaked folds.
You can see Bucky’s sharp intake of breath, the look of crazed lust dilating his pupils, and the subtle swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip as he stares at your cunt. It makes you take in your own breath and shake as you let it out, rattling you to your core. Your fingers are gripping your bedsheets itching to go back to the warmth of your cunt, to feel the slick of your wetness between them, to finish the job, to cum. Your entire body begging for it, needing it. And you think Bucky can tell. Can tell the way you’re so fucking needy for it, your entire body giving your desires and aches to finish away.
“I want you to pretend like I’m not here. Go back to playing with that pretty pussy like you just were, I want to watch you cum from the thought of me.” Bucky’s grin is light and devilish, “like you always do.” You involuntarily whimper at his words, think maybe you should play shy, coy, act not as eager as you are as your body works faster than your brain, quickly moving your hand between your legs and rubbing gentle circles on your clit. The soft moan you let out at the pressure that begins to build again, the burn of the pleasure making your eyes close and head hit your pillow.
And you stay like that for a beat, your eyes closed as your fingers rub at your sensitive nub, your other hand coming up to play softly with your nipples before slowly descending down your body, in between your folds and inside your wet hole. The soft squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of you making your cheeks burn hot and stomach clench when it’s paired with a soft groan from Bucky. Your head lifting from the pillow to see his cock out and in his hand as he strokes it slow and languid as he watches you.
“God,” Bucky grunts, “you really are a whore for me aren’t you? I can see your little cunt clenching around your fingers from here, you’re ruining your sheets, baby. Making a mess.” He smirks, licks his lips as if to silently tell you he wishes he could clean it up for you. Stick his head between your thighs and make you cum over and over and over. “Say my name, baby. Please, need to hear you say it again. It sounded so beautiful.”
Your chest is heaving and your moans and whimpers are breathy, your entire head swimming with a lust filled haze that everything coming from Bucky’s mouth hits your core, sending electric waves through you, making your body burn even more, want him even more. Your hole weeping, juices running down your asscheeks. “Bucky,” you moan and your stomach butterflies when you hear his breathy ‘fuck’. The sound of his hand moving faster along his cock and your fingers plunging into you to match his pace ringing loud in your ears.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this, spread out for me, dripping, wanting me. Fuck, you’re such a slut,” He grunts. “All those shy glances, trying to pretend you were so innocent while late at night you fucked your pussy wishing it was me filling you. Pushing you down into the mattress until you said my name, over and over again like some fucked up prayer. God, baby.” Bucky chuckles lowly, “you’re so bad, such a dirty girl for me.”
“Oh my god,” you can’t help the octave of the noises coming out of your mouth. Can’t help the way your entire body shakes with the speed and pressure of your fingers on and inside of you. Your legs trembling, aching. Your clit throbbing under your finger, your soaked channel clenching around your digits. “Please, Bucky,” you don’t know what you’re asking for, what you really want. To be fucked? For him to keep going? To tell you how bad you are? You don’t know. All you know is you want more, need more, need Bucky.
“Ah, I know baby. I know.” Bucky’s breath has picked up, his hand moving faster along his hardened cock. “All I want right now is to replace your fingers with my cock. Have you cum all over it. But I’m enjoying watching you play with that pretty pussy too much, baby. Need to see you cum for me. Next time I’ll give you my cock.” His words make your entire body keen, a string of whiney begging moans fall from your lips as the pressure builds inside of you. Coiling around a delicious string that you don’t want to let go of yet, want to stay in this moment with Bucky. But with one last look at his beautiful cock in his hand and his soft grunt of “cum for me, baby” it’s all your body needs and you’re coming around your fingers. Your head hitting the pillow, Bucky’s name on your lips, your eyes shut as the euphoric bliss of your orgasm washes over you, your breath stopping for a second before it picks back up again. Your cunt clenching and unclenching around your fingers, your mind wandering to what it would feel like to clench around Bucky’s cock. The thought almost starting that fire in your belly again.
When you look back up at Bucky you see he’s cum all over his hand, a slight disappointment of not being able to watch him fall apart spreads across you. Your gaze lifts to his as he silently moves to the side of the bed where he’s closer to you, now inches from you. The heat having yet to leave his eyes. “Open.” He commands and you do so not seconding guessing, or needing anymore instruction from him when he presses his fingers into your mouth, the salty taste of his spend coating your tongue as you suck it off his fingers. “Good girl.”
premise: when you wake in the middle of the night to thena not next to you, you go looking for her.
pairing: thena x (f)eternal!reader
warnings: very very soft smut, light descriptions of foreplay (fingering), a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, slight eternals spoilers, pet names (ο άγγελός μου meaning ‘my angel’ in greek). you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked.
word count: 1.53k
etc: the greek translation came from google translate so if it’s wrong please let me know. but when i say i’m soft for thena, i mean i’m literally as soft as soft serve ice cream melting in a pot. this woman is queen, god, and i will not be taking any criticism on the manner.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to wake up from the missing warmth at your side. To not feel the familiar slow breath of the body that was usually there now gone. The side of the bed becoming cold and desolate, something that you had become accustomed to. Something you understood. Something that always had you climbing out of bed and going in search of the missing warmth, the missing person.
Your Thena.
And she’s always in the same spot, always has the same mug of tea in her hands. Her night dress flowing slightly from the small breeze coming from the open window. The light of the moon shining across her face so beautiful, as if she could get anymore beautiful.
It had always been hard for Thena to sleep, especially at night. Her body was constantly ready for a fight making her more restless than not. And you couldn’t imagine all of the restless thoughts that must go through her busy mind. Thena making it almost impossible to read her, even after all these centuries together her stone cold features revealing little to what was going on within her. The woman only letting you see what she wanted you to see, only letting you inside, climb past her walls and guards only if she allowed, when she allowed.
It was something you never found yourself getting upset over. The two of you may have been polar opposites, but you made it work. Her hard edges fit perfectly with your soft ones, neither of you daring to, wanting to, having any desire to change the other. And would never think of it.
You walk up behind her, you know she had already sensed your presence from the doorway. So when you press your lips to the back of her exposed shoulder she doesn’t flinch, a soft hum coming from her pressed lips.
“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask softly, wrapping your arms around her midsection loosely, your chin settling atop her shoulder.
She sighs bringing her mug to her lips taking a small sip. “Got a few more hours than last night.” She inadvertently answers without really answering, something she’s amazing at. Something that makes you smile.
“I’m surprised Gil isn’t awake making you a morning feast right now,” you tease and it makes a soft chuckle cut through Thena’s hard features. The sound of her sweet chuckle, the pressed smile on her face as she turns her head to look at you sends a flurry of sparks through you, butterflies you once heard a human call it. No matter the name of it though, the feeling was other worldly, a feeling that nothing else could match, could feel as good as how it felt when Thena laughed, smiled, or touched you. The two of you had lived many lives, ones you didn’t even remember, ones you might live a million centuries down the road, and you couldn’t imagine yourself loving her more than you did right now. In these moments with her. The time shared with her, no matter how much of that time had gone by, would go by, it would never be enough and it would all be so much, so amazing all at the same time.
“He didn’t wake this time.” Thena sets her mug onto the windowsill before she turns her body towards you, leaving your arms wrapped around her. Her slim fingers meeting the soft skin of your cheek, “you should be asleep. There’s no need for both of us to suffer by moonlight.” The corner of her mouth quirks, her eyes glinting with softness as she traces your features with her fingers as if she needs proof you’re really here, that her sleep deprived mind hasn’t conjured you up or fallen into the routine of you always coming to find her even when you’re not really there. When her thumb brushes across your lips you press a quick kiss to the pad of it making her smile.
“If this is suffering than I very much like it.” You pick, smile. Shiver a little when her fingers come to rest at the top of your chest, her palm pressing to where she can feel your heart beating. The two of you stand like that for a while, swaying a little to silent music, heads pressed together, breathing the other in. You run your hand up and down the middle of Thena’s back slowly, the silence shared between the two of you saying more than either of you could right now. The softness of this moment in the late hours of the night one of your favorites with her. And you might suspect, despite her usual constant protest for you to go back to sleep, that it’s Thena’s as well. As if the dark of the night slows everything down, makes everything less loud.
And when she whispers the soft words, “take me to bed, ο άγγελός μου.” Those butterflies come back. Thena pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as she pulls back to hold out her hand to you that you gladly take and hold onto, as if your life depended on it, as the two of you walk to your shared room.
Slipping under the covers, the returned warmth of having her body next to you makes you sink into the mattress a little more; at peace, at ease.
Her hands haven’t left your body—and she would surely wound you if you mentioned it out loud to the other members of your little family—that in private, even in passing when the others aren’t looking, Thena always has a part of her touching you at all times. She’s never let it known as to why she does it, if it’s just because she can’t help herself from touching you or if it’s more complex than that. As if you ground her, keep her here, present. That if she’s ever feeling lost all she needs to do is reach out and you’ll be there. Always.
You’d never ask her what it is, it being one of those things that if Thena wanted you to know she would let you know. And whatever it was you were grateful for it, thanked whatever God the humans were always praying to when good things happened, that this woman, this warrior, the great and beautiful Thena needed you. Needed to feel your skin on hers.
And maybe it was foolish for you to look at her touch as some sort of praise, notion of devotion and admiration. Or maybe it was something else entirely, something the poets in the streets of Greece used to go on about.
“Thena,” you don’t know what you’re going to say, what you want to say, but your brain is going fuzzy with the way she’s looking at you. Her stone features holding in what her eyes shine with; sweetness, fondness, something made up of more than just shared breath and touches. Something you want to whisper against her skin right now but instead find the distance between the two of you being closed, her soft lips pressed to yours in a slow passionate kiss that burns and soothes all at the same time.
And doesn’t stop even when she lifts your night dress from your body, hers following. Her kiss only faltering in the slightest when she feels your fingers skate across her breasts, a soft moan breathed against your lips, mixed with your breath, breathed in and settling inside that part of you where only Thena lives, owns; your heart.
Her lips never leave your body as they kiss, bite, and suck at any part of you within her reach. Any part she can praise and worship and make that breathy whimper release from your lungs that she loves so much.
When her hand slips between the two of you finding the spot where you are wet and aching for her, your body shakes and withers under her touch. Her skillful fingers bringing you pleasure that’s only she can bring. As if your body was built in the name of her, for her. “Thena.” Your moan is low and burns your throat. And her sweet gentle lips swallow it down with a deep kiss as she makes you cum with her fingers. Every praise, admiration, and devotion of her feelings written out with her lips onto yours.
And when the two of you have caught your breath, when all that can be heard are the soft breaths mixed between the two of you with your foreheads pressed together, you feel her fingers dance along your back. “ο άγγελός μου,” she says softly. Her hand moving from your back to your chin to lift it, meet her gaze as she moves her head from yours. You feel sleepy, sedated, but Thena looks as beautiful as before, as ever. Always so beautiful Thena, your Thena. “I love you.”
And with the tears in her eyes, the knowing that she’s only whispered those words to you and only will to you. You know for sure that the poets in Greece were talking about this; love. Your Thena.
premise: when you and your captain are forced to seek safety in a way-to-tight closet during a mission gone to hell, you can’t keep quiet and he comes up with a solution for that.
pairing: steve rogers x (f)reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: breath play, forced proximity, foreplay (f receiving), fingering, co-workers???, steve is her superior so maybe slight power imbalance, sort of enemies to lovers, dirty talk, semi-mean steve, teasing and mocking. reminder: you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only.
etc: this is only slightly unrealistic, because who would be doing this while in the middle of battle?? someone who is super hornaé (me) is who!
♱ kinktober 04.
It was safe to say that the mission was not going according to plan.
It had been a complete ambush, one you could of, should of, seen coming. It seeming harder and harder to get the jump on sleaze balls who needed to be taken down and out, more often than not. And for such a big assignment you expected a little more planning. The only prepping had been a brief overview of the building and who was to be captured unharmed and who was collateral damage. Your Captain, Steve Rogers, making it adamant that it would be a quick and easy mission, in and out with, hopefully, no casualties.
The notion of ‘no casualties’ making you roll your eyes, you finding no remorse for taking the lives of the ill willed and millionaire murders in government sheeps clothing of the world. Rogers could lock up dirtbags all the live long day, it still didn’t stop them from being dirtbags. Lessons were rarely learned behind bars unless brutality came into play. It was the one thing the two of you differed on. Amongst many other things. The two of you had a bit of a strained relationship for you being his second, the constant banter the two of you shared daily making the rest of the team either roll their eyes and walk off, or laugh and enjoy the show.
The brave ones of the team crudely dropping vocal hints that the two of you needed to either ’fuck it out’ or Rogers assign you to a new team. Neither not happening, and were never going to happen.
At the end of the day you worked your best on his team, something neither of you could deny. The teamwork shared between the two of you when shit hit the fan had always put your many disagreements on the back burner. Rogers stating so himself many times, not directly to your face though. Only ever in conversation amongst another higher up or Fury, while you were standing beside him, never once shooting you a glance of acknowledgment when he handed out the compliments.
And you never pushed him to hand it to you. The compliment alone had surprised you, especially since if the two of you weren’t on an assignment you were at each other’s necks about something or other. So the fact that Rogers thought any other thing other than annoyance towards you was surprising, and you could definitely say the same about him when asked or prompted. He was a damn good Captain though, a little illogical at times, and stupidly smart at what he did even if it was for the greater good in his own hating-the thought of-death unless it was incredibly necessary-way. You could also gravely appreciate his work ethic, always finding time to hash out a problem or future one on off time. Never skipping a gym day, which was incredibly annoying to see when you walked into the Towers gym late at night hoping to be alone and workout in peace. Only to find Rogers at one of the punching bags in the corner, grey shirt drenched in sweat making it cling to his body. The wet garment looking as if one powerful right hook from its wearer and it was going to split in two; a thought that didn’t displease you in the slightest. But annoyed you highly.
No, you didn’t have a problem with Steve Rogers. The two of you were just rarely ever on the same page and when you were it was either when the shit hit the fan, or the both of you had too many liquor shots in your system, and Steve won’t stop staring at you from across the bar. And you try to ignore it, try to have fun and drink amongst your fellow colleagues. But the nipping at your neck that you know he is still staring at you, that his intense gaze is making you burn and sweat beneath your clothes too much, that you can’t stop looking at him either. And when the two of you just so happen to be slipping off to the bathroom at the same time, a brief moment of passing in the hall with Steve’s body brushing up against yours, his fingers coincidentally grazing your wrist, the intake of breath you do, his eyes dark and on you, the world seeming to stop and beg both of you to stop; be in this moment, let whatever it is your bodies want to happen happen. But then someone walks by and the moments gone and Steve is slipping into the bathroom, and you’re left in the hallway hot and bothered and annoyed.
That had been the only time that Steve had ever really touched you.
So when you feel his hands on both of your shoulders, gripping them and pulling you into a small dark utility closet that is hardly big enough to fit you let alone his large frame, you’re scowling up at him and on fire.
“What the hell!” You seethed between your teeth, your fists clenched.
“Shh,” Rogers demands finger to his lips as he presses his ear to the metal doors barricading you in, keeping the two of you from getting shot at from whoever had been chasing you. It wasn’t like your Captain to run and hide, at least not in a non tactical form, you were sure hiding in the tiniest utility closet on the planet was not tactical.
You try to move so Steve’s hand isn’t on you anymore, his palm burning right through your gear and onto your skin making you feel weird. It only making Steve’s grip on you go tighter when he shoots you a look, the low red lights of the closet casting over his face making him look more annoyed and menacing than he really was.
“I don’t think it’s good for morale that we are hiding out in this closet, when our men are out there!” You whisper yell. “It was your amazing plan that got us in this situation to begin with, shouldn’t you be taking care of it?” You don’t mean to taunt him in a time like this, but his hand on you is doing things to you and it’s annoying and the two of you should really not be hiding out, that part is true. Your jobs weren’t only to take down shitbags but also to help keep your team safe in times like this. Work together. All go back to the Tower in one peace.
The Super Solider just gives you a pointed look, a deep scowl forming on his brows as he continues to have his ear pressed to the door listening. For what you don’t know, how he could hear anything over the low buzzing from inside the closet, or your very heavy breathing you now notice is probably a problem if the two of you didn’t want to get blasted; is beyond you. You didn’t know if along with super strength Captain Rogers was blessed with super hearing, but whatever he hears has him pressing himself tighter to you, his hold on your arm and his chest pressed to yours making any thought of slight movement from you stop and incapable. His other hand coming up to cover your mouth, stifling your heavy breathing.
You intend to look up at him and glare, to demand he take his hands off of you right now, to leave the closet and just kill whoever was out there and get it over with. But your brain isn’t registering with your body. All want to move from Steve’s pressed body, or hands on you dying and being covered in a haze of something you choose to ignore. Try to ignore. It being very hard to ignore when you can feel Steve’s heavy breaths vibrating off of his chest and onto yours, or the fact that you’re just now realizing how big he actually is compared to you, his entire form barricading you in, surrounding you, every part of you covered and touching a part of him.
And when your eyes shift up to his face his eyes are already on you, the red glow of the room really giving him a look of stoic danger. As if he might be the bad guy and you’re totally fucked. You can see his jaw set, tighten and untighten. His eyes filled with something intense and flaming, and if not for them you’d think his stone features was just concentration, trying to stay quiet, alive. But they show something else that shouldn’t be there, much like you’re sure your body is showing to him. Your heart beating faster in your chest, you’re sure he can feel. Trying to slow your breaths down but they keep coming in fast heavy puffs against his hand. Your body now subconsciously leaning more into him, the feeling of safety, and definitely nothing else, calming the adrenaline pumping in your bloodstream.
The thought that you two will get caught because of your loud breathing makes you try to stop it all together. Holding your breath in intervals and trying to forcefully slow it down only causing you to breathe heavier, but less harder. The trick only half working. And when the thought of Steve getting absolutely annoyed, and pressing his hand harder to your mouth and nose completely cutting off your airflow, makes your legs clench together; an aching heat burning between your legs, you hate yourself for. Because it’s clear Steve see’s it. He’s pressed flush against you, if you move he moves, he can feel everything. See everything. Especially the way your lips are parted and wet when he removes his hand from your mouth. And how your intakes of breath come and go faster and harder when he lets his fingertips travel down your chin, to the top of your neck. And how your legs are still pressed together, that you could chalk up to their being no room at all to move in the tiny space. But not the shivers running through your form as Steve’s fingers skate along the column of your neck. Or your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, his gaze burning a hole right through to your now aching cunt.
And you wish he didn’t know, didn’t see it, feel it against him how your body is completely betraying you right now. Your mind growing hazy with a want that has no right showing itself right now. A want you’ve ignored for this man for so long, too long. But he see’s it and it only adds gasoline to your fire when you can see it in his eyes too.
You have enough not-lust filled brain activity-to open your mouth to tell him you two can’t do this right now, that you need to leave this damn contraption and go back to fighting; the dirtbags outside and with each other. But the attempt dies on your lips when you feel Steve’s palm wrap around your throat. Your instinct should of been to reach up, grab his hand, push him away, back, ask him what the fuck was he doing?!
But it’s not.
There’s barley any pressure on your neck and your entire being reacts in the completely opposite way you should right now; a low hum of a moan in the back of your throat, breath stuttering, body trembling, hands at Steve’s side gripping him, your hips moving slightly against the air, brushing the tiniest bit against Steve’s front. And maybe you didn’t want Steve to find out this way that the thought alone of having big calloused hands around your throat turns you on, and the knowledge that he could choke the life out of you without breaking a sweat makes your cunt throb. But now he knows and the stoic look on his face is doing little to show you how he feels about this information. And it makes your cheeks burn.
But when you feel the tips of his fingers add more pressure to your neck, your mouth going completely slack on a silent moan; you know this new information about you does little to derail him in keeping you quiet, or letting you rub against him in slow motions, Steve’s face not changing from its hard stare. The scowl on his brows more intense now, his pupils blown out making his eyes look almost black in the red lighting.
“Steve-“ you attempt, your airway constricted even more with the tighter pressure he applies to your throat.
“Shh.” There’s warning in his eyes, his forehead coming down onto yours, his mouth right above yours. Your eyes straining to hold eye contact with him. “Do us both a favor and keep your mouth shut.” His words are harsh and low, threatening. It almost makes you mad, but then you feel him release a little bit of pressure on your throat before adding the same amount again. And it has your lips pressing together tightly to cover the moans that are dying to be set free from your lungs. “Good girl. If I knew this was all it took to keep you quiet I would of done it months ago.” The heat from inside the closet is doing little to keep your head from swimming. The heat from Steve’s body, palm, the wall at your back, the way you mewl at his harsh words and ‘good girl’ praise; it’s all too fucking much. And with an insatiable throb between your legs you feel like you’re going fucking insane. This is fucking insane.
And as if Steve can tell by the desperate look on your face, your eyes clenched shut, lips still pressed, your teeth leaving marks in your flesh. Your hips trying to rub against his front, trying to find more friction, better friction. You feel him move his forehead from yours, his hand move down your arm and to the tops of your pants. Your eyes shooting open to look up at him, you don’t know if you want to beg, plead, or tell him he really shouldn’t. Not here, not like this. But his fingers linger there for half a second, his eyes looking for any real protest on your face and when he doesn’t any he makes quick work to undo your pants and slip his hand inside and past your panties.
Feeling his warm fingers make contact with the heat between your legs makes your body shake and arch against him. Making Steve press into you more, slotting one of his legs between yours the best he can, to keep you steady and upright. The back of your head pressed against the wall behind you, leaving the room that was already barley there, gone completely. Steve and the wall the only things keeping you grounded and in place. A hot sweat breaking out over your forehead and spine.
“There isn’t time for both of us to cum.” Steve states, runs his fingers through your wet folds, a soft moan vibrating off against your lips. “I can’t expect you to work when you’re so needy like this. You’re going to be no help to anyone. Especially not me.” When his pointer makes contact with your clit, you have to clench your eyes shut to not let out the pathetic whimper your body shakes with. The euphoria of feeling his finger rubbing circles on your throbbing nub better than you could of ever imagined; and you’ve definitely imagined. “The minute you make a noise I stop, getting you off isn’t worth our lives.” The pressure on your neck tightens and your eyes shoot open to meet his heat fueled gaze, “understood?” You swallow, it’s hard and heavy, nodding your head as best you can with what no space you have.
And with that Steve goes to work with rubbing fast circles against your clit, your teeth making your lower lip sore and raw and on the brink of bleeding from trying to hold back your whimpers. Your grip on his side making your knuckles ache, trying to stop yourself from moving your hips, from moving at all. Your body aching to wither underneath him, from the pleasure. Steve’s eyes don’t leave your face as he watches you. Watches the way you gasp for air when he tightens the grip on your throat, letting go when he thinks you’ve had enough and deserve to breathe. His soft ‘tell me if it’s too much’ whispered at the shell of your ear makes you want to smile at how even when he’s playing dirty, getting you off, he still finds a way to have a caring conscious. His mean stoic demeanor only faltering in that moment. If it wasn’t for you being able to feel his hard cock against the inside of your thigh you’d think he wasn’t effected by this in anyway, and he was only doing it to shut you up, to make you cum so you could fight with a clear mind.
But his cock is hard and radiating heat off of your leg and you want to touch it, want to feel it without his pants being in the way. The thought of him replacing his fingers with something bigger, thicker, filling you up the way you really need makes you mewl almost too loud. Your eyes flashing to Steve’s.
“I told you,” he says sternly, in his Captain authority voice. The tone used to annoy you to no end, but now it makes your pussy clench. The notion to keep frustrating him, break rules, and annoy him slotting into your brain as something tantalizing and needy. “If you make a noise I stop.” You open your mouth to apologize, to beg him not to stop, you’re so close and you need him, it feels so good. But his fingers cut you off with a strangled breath from your throat, his grip surely leaving its mark on your skin. A sickly thought of seeing dark colored bruises on your neck later makes your hips stutter into his palm. “With how wet your pussy is I don’t think you want me to stop, do you?” You can’t shake your head, a strangled noise of soft protest is all you can give him. “I didn’t think so. Looks like I’m going to have to occupy your mouth since you can’t keep it shut.”
And before you can process what he could possibly mean, you feel the hard press of his lips on yours. His mouth softer than you thought it would be, his kiss rough and deep, his tongue in your mouth. The pressure on your throat loosening, his mouth giving you a different reason to not be able to catch your breath. To cling to him. To suppress moans that vibrate off of tongues and teeth in the already sensitive skin of your lips. He kisses you with the hunger he can’t let out right now, the hunger that has you so fucking close to coming on his fingers. The drag of his cock against your leg showing a falter in his resolve, making you smirk against his lips.
You want him so bad. The realization of the matter finally settling into you; you’ve always wanted him.
“If our lives weren’t hanging on the line right now, I would turn you around and fuck this needy cunt the way it deserves.” His breath is as heavy as yours now, hot and against your lips. The chances of getting caught seeming to go higher. The lack of caring getting lower. “That’s what you need. To be fucked, hard, that’s all you’ve ever needed isn’t it? Why you’re always at my throat? Hmm?” He kisses you roughly, “you just needed my cock.” You moan a little too loud into his mouth, his fingers responding with tightening around your throat again, but Steve not seeming to remember his own rules, to care as much as he should. His mouth too busy devouring yours, his fingers too busy cutting off your airflow, his pointer and palm busy rubbing your cunt to that delicious precipice that you need, want so bad. “Just like I need your cunt, fuck.” Steve grunts lowly.
And that declaration and the snap of his hips against your thigh, his hands putting pressure on your body where you crave and need it the most, where it feels so fucking good; all pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm rocking through you with a white heat and euphoric bliss, that has your body shaking and lewd moans swallowed down by Steve’s mouth. Your eyes falling shut, your body rigid against him. Your breath slowing.
Fuck.
You have the slight comprehension of Steve removing his hands from your body, righting your clothes, fixing his cock in his pants so it’s not super obvious. His ear to the door. But your body is limp and leaning against the wall. The adrenaline in your body melting into something cool and warm and sedating. You don’t want to move, don’t want this moment to end. Almost forget you need to pull yourself together and go back to reality, to do what you came here to do. To fight. To win. Not get completely fucked and lost in your Captain.
It takes Steve to re-ground you, bring you fully back from your sedation with the press of his lips one last time to yours. His palm on your cheek. “Good?” You look at him, try not to feel like a stupid little school girl, try to go back to your annoyed and hard being when you’re around him, but the stupid little girl stays and your resolve to act like this never happened and it was a mistake doesn’t show her face. But that doesn’t mean you don’t pretend she does. Pretend like things are back to normal and give him a forced glare. Quickly swatting Steve’s hand away, push past him and out of the now open closet door.
“Should we try to fix your shit plan now?”
And when you turn to look at your Captain he’s smirking and giving that annoyed scowl he always does when you start in on him, only this time it makes your stomach flop.
#14 and #37 from this prompt list with any character you’d like!! (although i’m imagining ari or steve?) ☃️🌲
the warmth of you.
prompts: “aren’t you cold like that?” + stuck in a snowstorm
pairing: ari levinson x (f)reader
warnings: dads bestfriend!ari bcus i have no self control and wanted to make this slightly messy, age-gap, smut, 18+ only minors dni, possibly slightly brat taming and dom/sub??, a bit possessive behavior, secret relationship, hair pulling, spanking, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (baby and my girl), mentions of jake wyler.
word count: 2.4k
etc: this is my first time writing for this beautiful beefy man, so of course i had to make it smutty <3. i wouldn’t mind revisiting these two again because dadsbff!ari is actually something that is so hot and personal to me ok.
“Aren’t you cold like that?” Ari quirks up a brow as his eyes skate across your outfit; flashy, tight, and anything but comfortable.
Your sigh is long and deep and laced with annoyance, “I didn’t expect us to get stuck in…this!” Your hands wave towards the windshield where a pile of snow has already covered the glass, as the two of you sit in Ari’s truck parked on the side of the road. “I figured you’d pick me up and we’d be there in no time and I’d only have to wether the elements for seconds, tops. But silly me for thinking such wishful things.” Your right leg bounces anxiously, the black heels on your feet already making your arches ache just from you bouncing your leg for a good straight hour. Or however long you’ve been stuck in this storm.
“It certainly is not ideal.” You turn your gaze on the man next to you, scowling at him. Him being more than oblivious to the offense you just took at his words as he looks out of the windows trying to see past the snow that blocks his vision. But when he turns back to you he grins, “I meant the storm, not your outfit.” He clarifies, “the dress is beautiful.” His fingers reach out and graze your thigh just below the hem of said dress, “not weather practical at all though. It’s a shame…by the time this storm passes the party will probably be over and no one would have gotten to see you in it.” His eyes shoot down to your thighs and make their way up to your face—that’s burning hot by the second. Ari chuckles, smirks, “too bad.”
You want to roll your eyes because you know his words are false, so untrue that you actually laugh a bit. If there’s anything you have learned from sneaking around with this man, going behind your fathers back to fuck his best friend in secret, was that; Ari got off immensely at the knowledge that behind closed doors you were his. His to do every last dirty thing he wanted to you and your body. Worship it. Bite it, leaving marks only he could see later. Kiss it with a hunger you’ve never seen in a man before, primal, raw and rough and so tender all at the same time. Fuck it. Spank it, which he loved doing—in any instance—but loved it even more when you played games with him. Made him jealous on purpose at a party, wore something short and revealing to a cookout and not letting him touch you when no one was looking once he got you alone, making him wait and beg for it.
And it was possible that that’s why you chose this specific dress to wear tonight.
When your father had called you up to tell you Ari was going to pick you up and drive you to the annual family Christmas party, instead of one of your parents, you had to hide the little spark of joy in your voice. Had to cover up your smile with an “okay, whatever”, because your body was already shaking with anticipation of seeing him.
You had been busy with classes for the last three months now and hadn’t gotten much time to drop everything and visit home—or coincidently meet up with Ari there and have him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. Or even text him asking him if he wanted to meet up. And he hadn’t reached out either. He knew you were busy, getting an education, making a career for yourself. He wasn’t pushy, or demanding—outside of the bedroom.
And he knows you always come back to him, will always come back to him. That no matter how much time passes that lust and want will pull you right back and into his bed, and onto his cock.
“It’s a shame, really.” You agree with him, your tone taunting. You smirk, looking down at the dress and Ari’s fingers still at the bottom of it, “was hoping Jake would be there. Ya know, the neighbor boy. He would of loved it, I know for a fact.”
“Mm,” Ari hums, let’s his fingers play with the fabric. “He definitely would have. Every time you come around he’s like a dog with a bone, with a dress like this he would of been down for the count.”
You nod agreeing, crossing your legs making his fingers slightly trapped under one of your thighs. “It would make my job of seducing him so much easier too.” You sigh, feening fake disappointment, “It’s been a while for me. Would of loved Jakey to show me a good time tonight, itch that scratch I just can’t reach with my fingers.”
“I imagine he could help you with that perfectly.” Ari’s smirk is like a snake, silently dangerous and hiding venom. “Bet you’d let him take you up to your room, push you up against the door, turn you around,” Ari pushes his fingertips against your crossed leg easily moving it and leaving your legs spread for him. You can feel the cool air from the dropping temperature inside of the truck nip at your exposed inner thighs once again, even more so now. His fingers start moving up your inner thigh slowly, “spread open your legs, move your panties to the side.” With each word he speaks his fingers move along with it inching closer and closer to your clothed center. And when his index finger reaches out and gently moves across your lace panties your heavy intake of breath almost makes you choke.
“Bet you’d open up so easy for him. Bet you’d let him slip his fingers or his cock inside of you without a second thought, hmm?” Ari’s rubbing right where your clit is through the lace between your legs, and it’s all you can do not to buck up into his palm. Your nails digging into the faux leather of the seats, eyes downcast to watch his hand move under your dress. “What about his mouth, would you let him make you cum with his tongue? Devour your sweet little pussy like it deserves to be ate? Fucked?” His pressure has increased, picked up, and there’s a plead on your lips to have him take your panties off and really touch you. But it’s replaced with a whimper, the only sound in the car now being your heavy panting.
“See I don’t think he would. I don’t think he would have any idea how to give you what you need. Fuck you the way you need. You need someone who knows how to fuck you, and that pretty little face of yours when you’re being a brat.” Ari removes his fingers from your legs, puts his finger under your chin to move your face back in his direction. He’s smiling softly at you, all remnants of teasing gone—an expression you know all too well, calm and cool Ari being the most dangerous of them all. Usually meaning a punishment is coming into play. “Is Jake the one you need to do that for you, baby?”
Baby. The silly word, sentiment, always drives you crazy when he calls you it. Foolish and cheesy but it makes your body preen and flutter with more than just need.
You catch yourself wanting to whine, to speak that plea that never got past your lips. Your core aching and throbbing to be touched again, to hear his filthy words and continue this fucked up relationship the two of you have. Because there’s no one like Ari when it comes to giving you everything you need and want, and the two of you can joke about it and taunt and tease, until you’re both blue in the face. But you’ve been Ari’s, body, mind, and fucking soul since the first night he fucked you on your back porch—your mother and father just centimeters inside watching tv.
And that’s why you find yourself shaking your head, tears almost prickling your eyes—because fuck you need to be touched so bad, to cum so bad, need him so bad. “No,” your voice is a cracked whimper and it makes him smile even wider.
“Tell me then. Who do you need?”
“You, Ari. Always,” it’s more of a sob than a whimper and it’s quickly cut off by his lips smashing into yours in a rough, passionate kiss that knocks you for a loop and has you grabbing to grip his arms—and then the side of his neck once he’s pulled you into his lap.
“I’ve missed you so much, you know that?” His hands are on your ass pushing up your dress. You shiver as the cold hits your naked—except for the slim piece of fabric between your cheeks—ass. His mouth still attached to yours, all tongue and teeth, “can’t tell you how many times I’ve fucked into my fist wishing it was your, mouth,” he gives your ass a hard slap making you yelp against his lips, “your pussy.” Your hips start to move of their own accord, rubbing your clothed cunt against the front of his jeans. Angled just right to have you shaking and withering in his lap.
“Missed you, so much.” You moan against his lips. And you did, so fucking much. Each time you let your fingers slip underneath the blankets it was the thought of Ari fucking you that made you cum. But you didn’t just miss the fucking. You missed the sneaking around, the knowing glances and gazes of longing across the room. How raw your chin felt from his beard after kissing him, how soft his lips were. Fuck you missed him so much.
“You sure, baby?” He’s pulled back from your lips to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar lust you want to drown in. “Sure it was me you missed and not Jake.” You want to smirk because he’s keeping the game going, he’s taunting your bratty behavior right in front of you daring you to take the bait. To provoke a punishment. And if you weren’t so wet already and throbbing you would take it. Take it and let him reign whatever punishment he wanted on you.
But that’s not what you want right now, you just want him to make you cum, you’ve missed it—him—so much. So you’re shaking your head and giving him a pleading, “please,”
You let out a small wince that turns into a tremble when his fingers dig into the back of your hair, pulling your head back so you have no choice but to be looking right at him. Your scalp burning only adding to the heat all over your body, the cold moving in from outside a thing of the past.
“Please what? Use your words, baby. You know I love hearing them.”
“Make me cum, Ari. Please,” your whine is pathetic and puffed out on a whimper. “I need you.”
He smiles and then his lips are back on yours and he’s pushing your dress up until it pools at the base of your hips. Your panties pushed down to the tops of your thighs. And that’s where his fingers find their home, where you want them the most, need them. The moan you let out against his lips is vibrating and blissful at finally feeling his touch the way you needed it. Raw and with no confines. His fingers rubbing your clit in that slow circular motion that has you gripping his shoulders and shaking.
Your pants and whimpers once again clouding the car in a haze of pure filth and lust. The pitter patter of snow hitting the truck outside an echo in the background.
“Did you let anyone else touch this pretty pussy while you were away, baby?” Ari’s lips are all over you, your mouth, your chin, your neck. As if he needs to reclaim you everywhere once more.
“No,” you shake. “Couldn’t—would never,” you moan, devote, declaring the honest truth to him. It had never been a thought in your mind to fuck someone else, let alone let them touch you. You knew if you would have Ari would of been okay with it though, past statements made by him confirming such a thing. You were young, this relationship between the two of you was nothing but sex and lust and desire. It wasn’t something built to last other than between breaths and bedsheets.
But the mere thought of letting someone else touch you had always turned you off. You’ve even tried to re-work the thought into fucking someone and thinking of Ari during, or fucking someone who looked sort of like him. Until you could have the real thing again. And each time, each thought crossed your mind it just made you want him even more.
“Good.” Ari’s fingers move faster against your throbbing clit, that tantalizing burning bliss from his skillful fingers making your legs shake. Sweat gathering behind your knees, fighting the natural freezing elements that still continue to leak in from the storm outside. The windows surely fogged and dripping with condensation. “This is my pussy. Say it.” When you don’t answer in the timely fashion he wants, your mind clouded and hazy from being on the cusp of toppling over that bridge of ecstasy, of cuming on his fingers. He’s pulling your hair again making you open your eyes and look at him, “say it, baby.”
“It’s-“ you swallow, your mouth dry and aching from Ari’s assault on your lips and your cunt. “It’s your pussy.”
“That’s my girl.” He hums against your lips, pushes his tongue into your mouth devours you completely whole until you’re moaning incoherent sentences and pleads into him as you cum against his hand.
The aftershocks of your orgasm making your hips stutter as Ari’s fingers move lightly against your clit still, until you’re whining into his neck from over sensitivity, and trying to move yourself away from his hands. Making him chuckle and remove his hand, bringing it to your rest and rub at your back as you finish coming down. Your breath catching up to you.
Your head lays upon his shoulder, your face nuzzled into his neck. And all you can feel is him, his scruff, his warmth—the cold coming back with a vengeance now that you don’t have a fire burning inside of you. All you can smell is Ari, his hair smelling of pine and something fresh, something all him.
And the two of you bask in this moment until you can’t ignore the cold any longer and you’re shivering, “guess I really shouldn’t of worn this dress.”
Ari chuckles, helps you right your clothes and wraps his arms around you to help lock in the heat. “I disagree,” you feel him roll his hips up against you, feel how hard his cock is in his pants and it’s already got the heat coming back to your body.
