Could you do a smut of president Loki and fem secretary reader?
Oh yeah... that can certainly be arranged ;)
Presidential Feast
President!Loki x Fem!Secretary!Reader
Description: Things are not all they appear to be in the office of the president's secretary. Though you work diligently at your desk, there is a certain someone who works even harder to get you to come undone completely from below.
A/N: I blacked out and when I woke up, there were two thousand words of Loki smut on my computer screen. Dunno how that happened. Fair warning, this is barely proofread. I'm just amazed I wrote this in one sitting LOL
Word Count: 2k
“...So, if there is any way I could speak to him directly…”
The saccharine smile wears at the corners of your lips. You’ve worn it for hours now, feigning pleasantries, signing papers, redirecting and avoiding pointless or dangerous questions from the press. You were excellent at keeping face, as it were, but even still…
This job was exhausting.
Maybe it was foolish of you to expect people to use their eyes. President Loki was clearly busy in his office, preoccupied as he leafed through stacks and stacks of backlogged paperwork. You could quite clearly see that through the door’s window. Apparently, most of your appointments, scheduled or otherwise, were incapable of seeing the commander in chief hard at work. Why else would they bother you ceaselessly for a chance to speak with him?
At least your superior had a soft spot for you. A new desk made from gorgeous stained mahogany sits before you, polished to almost a mirror-like shine. It feels sinful to rest your elbows upon it as you lean forward and prop your chin on your wrist.
Though, perhaps it’s not nearly so sinful as what happens beneath.
When the president had procured this desk for you, he ensured it was the best in all aspects. Naturally, this included a spacious, enclosed area for you to stretch your legs. The legroom truly was unparalleled and quite comfortable. If you wanted to, you could easily crouch down and fit underneath. After all, that’s exactly what Loki is doing right now.
While you explain for the billionth time today that the president is not available at present, gesturing to the clone that pantomimes reading documents the next room over, the real Loki kneels between your legs and bites softly at your inner thigh. His teeth drag bluntly over the sensitive skin before he sucks on it, marking you under the mini skirt he’s bunched up around your hips.
“He… he’s clearly quite busy--” You inhale sharply when his tongue laves over the dark bruises he’s created upon the canvas of your legs. The man standing in front of you eyes you curiously with an arched brow. Canines dig into your tongue to stifle the moan at the back of your throat. Loki’s breath is hot against your core through the fabric of your underwear. “--and I am not feeling terribly well. If you could just try again tomorrow--”
“I have been attempting to get a hold of him for three weeks now!” the man exclaims as his face grows red. “This policy needs his attention immediately!”
“Sir, if I might remind you, that is not how the American government works. You would be much better off addressing this with your representative in the House, and--ah-!”
With a hand over your mouth, you bite down on your index finger to muffle any further slip-ups. You can feel the smirk on Loki’s lips as they lead feather-light kisses closer and closer to your folds. Fingers curl into a white-knuckled fist as you grip the edge of your desk.
Thankfully, your current “client” is far too focused on his own agenda to pay attention to your strange behavior.
“That’s exactly why I’m here! I called and called, and I think they blocked my number--”
You barely hear what he’s saying even with his frantic gestures and waving his arms. The man is clearly quite animated about whatever it is he’s going on about. It’s hard to focus on that when your senses hone in on the dextrous fingers that hook in the waistband of your undergarments. It’s a bit difficult while you’re sitting down, but he manages to shimmy them down your hips without too much effort on your part.
Thankfully for you, this man seems more than content to ramble on about how important this proposal is and why it should be the first thing on the agenda. So much so that he begins pacing about the room as he talks.
And then Loki’s tongue flattens and paints a fat stripe through your folds. You’re so glad this guy is turned away from you when your eyes roll back and you clamp your hand over your mouth fully. That accursed, talented appendage zigzags and swirls, drawing patterns all along your slit but never quite high enough where you want it most. He drinks of your nectar, feasts on your essence. Your breath comes out in staggered gasps and your brows knit together.
“Are you even listening to me!?” the man practically shouts, startling you and pulling your attention away from the euphoria between your legs. “I swear, the government these days--!”
“Do you wish for me to deal with him, my dear?” you feel more than hear Loki’s words as he whispers them, his cheek pressed lazily against the plush of your thigh while his verdant green eyes gaze up at you. His lips glisten with your slick, and it makes your head spin with desire. It would be so tempting, so easy…
But you snap out of it and shake your head. No, you wish to do this yourself. It’s part of your job, after all, at least in a roundabout way. And if your intuition is correct, really all you’ll need to do is change your approach.
The real challenge is staying focused while Loki gets back to work lapping at your cunt.
“I understand your frustrations, sir,” you practically coo, removing your hand from your face and leaning forward. You bat your long, fake eyelashes up at him. His demeanor changes instantly and you see his shoulders relax. “I really am listening. You were just so passionate about it that I was taken aback.”
“You… yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just such a serious matter, and no one is listening…” he bemoans.
“Such a mischievous little devil,” Loki purrs quietly. Your legs tremble on either side of his head with the effort it takes to keep yourself composed. “You’re playing this poor man like a fiddle, aren’t you? What a cruel mistress…” The nearly inaudible chortle rumbles through his lips and onto your dripping core. It sends a shudder through your entire body and prickles your skin.
You make a show of licking your lips before pinching the bottom one between the tips of your canines. Loki is right--you have this man absolutely captivated.
“Here, sweetheart,” you begin, sliding a sticky note towards him. “I’m sorry there’s nothing more I can do today, but that’s my personal cell. Give me a call tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do for you, okay?” It’s almost sickening putting on a show like this, but it might as well be your calling with how easily he buys it. He’s cradling the piece of paper in his hands like it’s some sort of holy artifact as he thanks you profusely and finally makes his exit from your office.
As soon as the door closes behind him, in fact, you finally exhale the breath you were holding with an airy whimper.
“Mm,” Loki moans into your folds. He rewards you with a flick of his tongue at your clit that leaves you digging your nails into the wood. “What a perfect succubus you make. Tell me…” he begins, teasing a finger at your entrance. “Who did that number belong to? I know you wouldn’t dare give such a lowly creature your actual information.”
“It’s--” You keen and bite your lip when his long finger slowly curls into you. “It was your--fuck--” Loki smiles devilishly as your hips buck into his hand. “--your brother’s cell.” Your cheeks flush and you laugh breathlessly. “I imagine that will be quite… quite the conversation tomorrow…”
An almost evil laugh thrums in his chest. “Gods, but I do love that wonderfully deviant mind of yours,” he praises as he begins thrusting the digit in and out. Kitten licks flutter against your sensitive bud, and your toes curl in your heels.
“And I--” you huff, moving instead to grip the more comfortable arms of your office chair, “I need more of that deviant tongue of yours,” you joke breathily.
He slides a second finger into you and begins pressing against the soft, spongy spot, grinning wickedly when he feels your thighs tense around him. “Making demands of your president? How terribly daring of you.”
Words are beginning to fail you even before his lips encircle your clit. Your chest heaves as you whimper with every breath. He sucks on that pleasurable little bud, timing every curl of his fingers with a practiced swipe of his tongue. Ecstasy builds and bubbles in your core, and you try so desperately to contain the sounds that threaten to spill from your lips. Even if no one is here right now, someone could walk in at any moment. That thought shouldn’t thrill you nearly as much as it does, and you feel Loki chuckle as he suckles on your clit.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he purrs. “The thrill, the danger, chasing such forbidden pleasures…” A low whine sounds in your throat as he continues. “I wonder… what would you do if someone were to discover you like this, in the throes of pleasure?” He slows his fingers, instead thrusting with purpose as your walls quiver around them. “Would you stop me?” He knows your answer when you mewl and tighten around him, but he asks anyway. “Or would the desire only intensify as you ride my tongue and desperately chase your release?”
“Loki, fuck--!” You’re so close, so desperately close, hanging off of the precipice as the pleasure below waits to consume you.
But his fingers still inside you, and the flicks of his tongue that punctuated his words cease entirely. The edge was right there, but now you feel it slipping away from your grasp as a mournful wail rings from you.
“That is President Loki to you,” he corrects you before busying his mouth by biting and sucking at the skin of your thighs. “You will address me properly if you want to continue indulging in this… deviant tongue of mine.”
Your breathing is ragged. Your nails are threatening to rip off the padding of your armrests. “P… President…” Your eyes nearly roll back when his fingers drag slowly through your velvety walls. It’s more, but it’s not enough. Your body trembles. “President Loki, please.”
Immediately you feel his fingers thrusting vigorously in and out of your soaked core. Your moaning returns in full force, potential visitors be damned.
“That’s it. You sound so terribly pretty when you beg for me,” he praises. His tongue finds your clit and swirls feverishly about the bud, and you feel all of the pleasure that had begun to fade return tenfold as you grind shamelessly onto his face. It’s a fire roaring in your belly that licks its flames outwards to tingle at your fingers and toes. Loki moans his own appreciation as he slurps and swallows, smacking lewdly as he drinks up everything you give him. The vibrations push you over the edge as you let out a silent scream, mouth agape as your thighs clamp around his head and you buck wildly against his tongue.
Your body slumps in your chair as you stare, dazed, off at nothing in particular. Your chest heaves with the effort of catching your breath. The orchestrator of your undoing merely smirks, licking delicate stripes up your sensitive folds that make you twitch and whimper from the overstimulation.
“What a beautiful mess you make,” he regards you as his tongue collects your essence from his lips. Before you have the chance to reply, to right yourself, he snaps his fingers and vanishes from his place beneath you.
Well, he doesn’t vanish completely.
No, instead he takes the place of his clone, and when your bliss induced stupor finally allows you to glance over through the window into his office, you see him smiling wickedly and patting his face gingerly with a handkerchief. Perfectly composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred while you try desperately to recollect yourself from a mind shattering orgasm.
Smut and fluff with marvel rivals iron fist (lin Lie) x fem superhero reader, please and thank you ❤️
I uh... went a lil crazy on this one LOL
我的月亮 (Wǒ de Yuèliàng)
Iron Fist x Fem!Superhero!Reader
Description: What better way to recover after a grueling fight with Chīyóu's demon army than a dip in a hot spring?
Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), brief combat, cursing, vaginal sex, standing sex, sex in a hot spring, reader has a moment of self-consciousness, lots of fluff and comfort, super lovey-dovey
A/N: Fun fact about me: I took Mandarin as a second language starting in middle school. I don't remember much of it (though I can ask you if there's a bathroom somewhere or when your birthday is), but it was really fun going back and recognizing things like words or grammar. I was basically the Chinese equivalent of a weeb in my younger years so this was a major throwback LOL
Word Count: 4.7k
Relationships between superheroes was… not something most would recommend. Passionate at best, and tumultuous and unpredictable at worst. You might go for weeks, months, without seeing one another, and it was a death sentence to allow that gnawing worry over the other’s safety to take hold of you.
It’s why you were so eager to be sent on a mission in Yúnnán Shěng. It was Iron Fist’s mission, to be fair, but your ability to fly would help give him the extra edge he needed, so he was quick to request your assistance. You spot him as you soar over the bustling tourist city of Kūnmíng, crouched on top of the spire of a lone temple. It’s quieter here, with the sound of chirping insects and wind ruffling the leaves of bamboo stalks the only things to pierce the relative silence of the night.
“There you are, wǒ de yuèliàng,” he greets you as you come to hover by his side. Your heart flutters and you blush at the nickname he’s given you. My moon.
“You know I will always come when you need me, Iron Fist.” It almost pains you to call him by his hero name, but you knew just as well as any superhero that it was always better to be safe in public even if you seem to be alone.
He smiles gratefully, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know. Doesn’t change how happy it always makes me to see you, though.”
You flash him a brilliant smile in turn. “Perhaps we could take advantage of the scenery once our mission is over?” you suggest, batting your eyelashes at him and giving him pleading eyes.
He snorts a playful laugh at your display before tugging your floating form towards him for a quick kiss. “Let’s see how things go first. I’d hate to get you all excited for a hike only to have to carry you the whole way,” he teases with a cocky grin before brushing his nose against yours affectionately. You stick your tongue out at him in response and blow him a raspberry, which he quickly pulls back to avoid as he wipes the spray of spittle from his face. “Hey! I’m only kidding!” he protests with a jovial laugh.
With your hands on your hips, you cock your head to one side and quirk a brow. “If anyone’s gonna end up being carried, it would be you, you know. I can fly, after all.”
His laughter dies down, and he regards you with the softest hint of concern in his eyes before they flicker down to watch as he wrings his wrists together. “Well, let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that at all, okay?” His gaze meets yours once more, and you can see the worry that crinkles between his brows. “I’d rather not see you get hurt at all.”
Your expression softens, and you place a comforting hand on one of his broad shoulders. “I know, wǒ de lòng.” The gentleness of your voice soothes him, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. My dragon.
“Your pronunciation has gotten better,” he compliments before reaching out and caressing your cheek.
“I had a pretty good teacher,” you respond with a cheeky smile that he’s quick to mirror.
Your tender moment is broken by a monstrous roar in the distance followed by devastating crashes and screams. Both of you snap your heads towards the source of the sound. Whatever it was, it was big.
“What did you say we were fighting again!?” you exclaim even as you whip behind him and hook your arms around him, lifting you both into the air. Shockwaves nearly throw you off course as this monster continues its rampage, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. You inhale deeply before propelling the two of you like an arrow straight through the wind currents that dare to fight your trajectory.
“Demons,” he responds, his voice straining to be heard over the roaring winds. “But it looks like Chīyóu isn't playing around this time.”
“Does he ever?” you groan.
Closing in on your target, you can really see just how ugly this thing is. Gigantic, vaguely humanoid, with decaying skin stretched taut across its emaciated skeleton, it roars into the air before pummeling its scythe-like arms into the ground below. It doesn't seem to care about the smaller demons that flock beneath it, destroying foe and ally alike.
“How did it get to be so massive!?” you shout in disbelief. You'd been unfortunate enough to see Chīyóu's army in the past, but they usually looked more like the infantry below.
“Don’t know, don't care. At least, not until I pummel this thing into the earth!” he replies confidently. “Take care of the small fry, would you? I've got the big one.”
You know better than to protest. He is the stronger out of both of you, and your airborne agility would give you enough of an edge to dodge any stray swings from the big guy while you take care of your foes.
“Okay. I trust you… but come back safe,” you urge before soaring up high enough to launch him at his target. He climbs up the demon's large frame with ease, running up his torso before laying into him with blow after blow straight to the face. You can’t help but smirk as you hear it cry out in pain even as you propel yourself back down towards your smaller enemies.
“Alright… who wants to go first…?” you taunt as energy crackles in your palms.
-----
Not surprisingly, you're done with your fight long before Iron Fist has finished his. You desperately want to help, but you weren't unscathed, panting heavily as you hover nearby. It had taken more out of you than you'd expected; they were far more coordinated than they should have been. Thankfully, your injuries were limited. You were simply exhausted, forced to use your power beyond your normal limits to keep up with each and every demon that launched and swiped at you.
Iron Fist seemed to be doing fine. It was simply a very tough fight, but it was one he was slowly winning. You felt the energy pulsating off of him as he summoned the blade shards from his fists, and the demon cried out in agony as his punches grew faster, deadlier. It wouldn't be much longer now. Suddenly you hear a loud and sickening crack!, and slowly, stumbling, the demon lets out a final, guttural groan before plummeting to the earth. Iron Fist wears a triumphant grin, and you begin to fly towards him to catch him before he joins the demon's descent.
He lands into you with an “oof!” as you steady him, hugging him tightly with your arms wrapped around his chest. “See? Not a problem at a--!”
But your victory is interrupted by the sudden shockwave caused by the demon's body collapsing to the ground. You're too exhausted to react in time, and it sends both of you hurtling through the air as you let out a startled cry. The force of it knocks you miles away, holding on tight to one another and spinning towards an unknown destination. You begin spiraling towards the ground, trying and failing desperately to stop your momentum, and panic rises in your chest.
“Y/N!? We're gonna crash!”
“I know!” you snap back. “I'm trying!”
You're pretty sure your life is beginning to flash before your eyes as the rocky mountainside gets closer and closer. Frantically, you pour all of your willpower into the energy pooled within you, using whatever you have left and centering it so it coalesces at the soles of your boots. It’s just enough to generate a bit of friction, and finally you find yourself slowing before touching down safely on the ground.
Wide-eyed and shaky, you nearly collapse before Iron Fist catches you and helps you stay upright. Even under his mask you can see the way his brow creases with worry.
“Th-that was… that was close,” you stammer out. “S-sorry.”
Seemingly a little less disoriented, he chuckles. Once he’s sure you can stand on your own, he cradles your face in his hands, and those brown eyes gaze warmly into your own. “Hey, we’re alive. That’s what matters.”
A trembling titter passes through your teeth, and you shut your eyes and lean into his touch. After a long sigh, you nod. In the silence that follows, a soft, distant trickling sound catches your ear, and your eyelids flutter open to find its source. Liè hears it as well, and a knowing smile draws upon his lips.
“So, about that sightseeing you wanted to do…” he begins, and you give him a curious look. He’s up to something, but you have no idea what it could be.
“I don’t think I’m in any state to be sightseeing right now--”
He puts a finger to your lips and you hush immediately, feeling your cheeks warm in response. His hands fall from your face before he suddenly scoops you up into his arms, bringing a startled yelp from you before he begins bounding down the mountain.
“H-hey! What are you--!?”
But as he carries you over the rounded stones and lush foliage towards the base of the mountain, that trickling sound grows louder, and you gasp as the leaves part to reveal a hot spring bathed in the light of the full moon. Even at its edge you can feel the humid warmth of the steam seeping into your weary body.
“Ever bathed in a hot spring before?” he hums, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail down your body as he holds you.
“No, I can’t say I have,” you respond honestly, feeling a heat born from something other than the nearby steam.
He lowers you to the ground gently before taking a few steps forward with his back facing you. His fingers get to work unwrapping the yellow bandages coiled around his arms, letting them flutter down like ribbons onto the stone beneath you. Next, he unties his mask, discarding it in a similar fashion, and then you hear the clinking of his belts before the thud of leather hits the ground.
“Liè…?” you whisper, not trusting your voice fully as he continues to undress before you. He merely turns his head towards you and smirks, and with a rustling of fabric he stands shirtless before you. Moonlight glistens and illuminates his defined muscles, rippling with every movement he makes, and your breath catches in your throat.
“People don’t typically bathe with their clothes on,” he teases, making it sound like the most obvious explanation in the world for him stripping so sensually in front of you. When you still don’t seem to make any sort of move, he turns to face you. The two of you had never… well, you’ve never even seen him shirtless like this before. You try not to let your gaze linger overlong at his broad chest or travel down too low to see the V of his hip bones disappear beneath his trousers--
The pad of his index finger finds your chin and lifts your head to look at him. “My eyes are up here, yuèliàng,” he chides with a snicker. Though, his own eyes find themselves flickering down to your lips.
“You’re so unfair,” you accuse with a breathy laugh.
“Says the one still fully clothed,” he retorts with a purr as his arm wraps around your waist.
You brace a hand against his bare chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin as your tongue wets your bottom lip. “I didn’t realize it was a race,” you tease. Self-consciousness floods your thoughts at the realization of what was happening, and unwittingly your fingers tense against him. Concern softens his expression, and the hand at your chin caresses your cheek.
“Y/N…?” He smiles tenderly. “Are you nervous?”
Your eyes flicker back up to his. “I’ve just… you and I, we’ve never…” Unable to find the words, your voice trails off, fading into the sounds of the bubbling spring. “What if I’m not…?”
“Not what?” he inquires, searching your eyes for the answer you seem unable to give him. The hand at your waist rubs soothing circles into the small of your back.
It grows more difficult to maintain eye contact, so you find yourself staring instead at where your fingers rest upon his skin. “Not… not good enough? Pretty enough? I don’t know…”
“Wǒ de yuèliàng…” he murmurs softly, shaking his head and embracing you into an almost smothering hug. “Zài wǒ xīnzhōng nǐ shì rúcǐ měilì. Nǐ hěn wánměi.” His breath whispers against your hair as he buries his nose into it. Your Chinese is limited, but you don’t have to understand much of it to know what he’s trying to tell you. Beautiful. Perfect. It wrenches at your heart. You’re misty-eyed when he pulls away, resting his hands on your shoulders. “But if you’re not ready--”
You silence him with your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands slide down your sides and rest at your hips, and strong fingers grip you tightly. When you pull away, he regards you with hooded eyes and parted lips.
“I… I’m ready,” you breathe out. “But… do you mind turning around while I undress?”
Liè chuckles but nods wordlessly, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your forehead. He turns back towards the hot springs, shimmying out of his boots and pants and giving you a tantalizing glimpse of his toned ass before he disappears beneath the spring's waters.
You take a deep breath before divesting yourself of your superhero suit, fumbling a bit with the buckles and zippers. Your hands are trembling with nerves when you hook your thumbs into your panties and drag them down your thighs. If only you could see Liè's face; his skin is flushed, and his eyes are squeezed shut to help him resist the temptation to sneak a peek at you. He's just better at masking his nerves than you are.
Steeling your resolve, you exhale shakily. “Okay, I… you can turn around now.”
The water sloshes with how quickly he moves, and despite the humidity of the hot springs, he grows parched at the sight of you. Your arms and hands drape demurely over your breasts and between your legs, and you look away shyly under the intensity of his stare. The moonlight bathes your skin in its silvery splendor, and the trees behind you seem to almost bend around you and frame you perfectly in their lush foliage.
“Wow…” he breathes quietly, at a loss for any other words. He steps towards you, making his way to shallower waters as his chest and hips reemerge in a cascade of water droplets, seemingly unperturbed by his own nudity. His cheeks turn a deep pink as he drinks you in. “Nǐ hěn wánměi.” You are perfect. He brings his hands up to cradle your face and stare deeply into your eyes. They're warm, wet from the spring, and the feeling is oddly grounding while droplets trickle down your cheeks. Slowly, your arms fall to your sides. You bat your eyelashes at him with the tiniest of smiles.
“You're one to talk,” you tease, your gaze flickering back down as your fingertip traces along his collarbone and follows the contours of his pectoral muscles.
The ego boost brings a cheeky grin to his lips, but he doesn't indulge it further. Instead, he brings your faces closer together and kisses you deeply, hungrily, groaning when his hands begin to wander. They tangle in your hair, wrap tightly around your back, grip at your waist… he's determined to feel every inch of you, and quickly the fire within you urges you to do the same to him. A surprised squeak sounds in your throat when he grabs your ass, kneading the plush of your skin in his palm.
“Liè!” you gasp as his lips press at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, and finally nipping and sucking at the column of your neck. He lifts you by your rear, earning a giggle from you before you wrap your legs around him, and walks you back into the water to envelop you both in its steamy embrace. His arousal rests hard and hot against your stomach, and desire replaces any remaining reservations you had. All you could think about now was him, of his skin on yours, his lips hot and wet on your neck, his broad shoulders beneath your fingertips.
With the water to help support your weight, he holds you against him with one hand as the other trails back over your ribcage, resting beneath your breast before cupping it and squeezing gently. Breathy moans slip from your lips and grow louder as he leans down and takes the stiff peak into his mouth. His tongue flicks up and down over the sensitive bud.
“Yes, oh…”
He hums against your skin, gazing up at your face with blown pupils. Every expression, every melody you sing because of him, is intoxicating.
“Mm… how did I get so lucky?” he muses while pressing tender kisses in the valley of your breasts. “To have such a beautiful, strong woman in my arms, singing me her praises…” He adjusts his hold on you, sliding you down just a bit and bringing you face to face again. The water laps soothingly against your bare skin. Your eyes flutter closed when the backs of his fingers brush gingerly along your cheekbone.
“I hear being the Immortal Iron Fist helps one's chances,” you giggle, and he scoffs in mock offense. Your smile widens and you press your forehead to his. “But being Liè, my dragon, my…” You choke on your words for a moment, but only a moment.
“My love…”
You feel your face heat up at your own words, but they were words long coming. “... that's all it takes. All I've ever wanted.”
“Yuèliàng,” he exhales sharply, the term of endearment a reverent hiss upon his lips. Those same lips crash upon yours once more, and your arms wrap eagerly about his neck. His brow furrows, and between kisses he whispers those sweet words. “Wǒ ài nǐ.”
You grip the black hair at the nape of his neck tightly, but not nearly so tight as the hold this man has over your pounding heart. Your mouth slants over his, kissing him deeper, delving your tongue between the seam of his lips. He meets your efforts eagerly, curving over you as your back arches and your chest presses against him. One hand finds the small of your back to draw you impossibly closer. When he pulls away from your devouring kiss, you're both panting for air.
“Let me make love to you,” he begs breathlessly. His nose nudges yours affectionately and his brow creases. “Please.”
Never in a million years would you say no to that. You kiss him tenderly before nodding softly. “I want you, Liè. All of you.”
He groans and rolls his hips, his evident desire sliding along your heat and drawing a gasp from your lips. You were no virgin, but he was thick, and your mind was long gone with fantasies of how he would feel inside of you. Not that you would have to wait long for those fantasies to become reality, of course; he peppers your face and neck with kisses while he continues to grind against you. His hand reaches down for a handful of your ass, guiding your hips as you join him in the search for that delicious friction. The hot spring water only makes your movements easier, and on more than one occasion he nearly slips right in. When the bulbous head presses up against your clit, you whimper and your thighs tremble, and you can feel yourself growing wetter even without the spring's help.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. He holds you still, and you brace your hands on his shoulders while he begins deliberately guiding the head of his cock up and down your slit. Your hot, slickened folds are too inviting to resist, and slowly, torturously and slowly, he sinks the tip into your heat. You steady your breathing and force yourself to relax the tension in your body at the sudden intrusion. His hips rock into yours, finding it hard to breathe himself as he stretches you out inch by inch.
“Liè, oh gods--” you hiss before your jaw goes slack with a moan. He’s sheathed himself in you completely, and you've never felt quite so full. He stills inside you instantly as worry etches his features.
“Are… are you okay?” he stammers out, tenderly cupping your cheek. It’s obviously difficult for him to keep himself from rutting into you like a wild animal, and you feel his cock twitch impatiently while your walls clench around him.
“I-I’m fine,” you breathe out. “You're just, um… shit… you're so big…”
His concern fades instantly and is replaced with a cocky grin much more becoming of his handsome face. A groan of approval growls in his throat and he’s grinding into you again, the water splashing gently with the movement, angling his cock back and forth with shallow thrusts.
“Is that so…?” he muses coyly. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I hope that won’t be an issue.”
You keen as every move he makes leaves his cock dragging languidly back and forth against that perfect spot. “N-no, I--”
He interrupts you by taking your lip between his teeth and tugging on it softly. A staggered breath whispers from you.
“Good,” he purrs. He sucks on your bottom lip before darting his tongue out, inviting you to part your lips and let him in. A devouring groan hums and vibrates from him into the kiss. Your tongues dance sensually, feverishly, and he starts thrusting into you with renewed vigor. Shutting your eyes tight, you tangle your fingers in his short black hair, and your high pitched whimpers pour into the kiss.
It's easy to forget the battle you had fought not even an hour ago. It certainly doesn't feel like he was fighting for his life against a demon twenty times his size. His seemingly endless stamina ripples through bulging muscles to help him piston in and out of you. His movements favor precision over speed, deliberately drawing back and making sure you feel every inch before he slams back into you.
You're so lost in pleasure, but when he pulls away and stares into your eyes your breath hitches in your throat. There's so much adoration in those brown eyes, so much love and affection reserved for you and you alone. Your hands draw back to cup his face gingerly while he bounces you up and down.
“Liè…” you breathe softly. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.
Half-lidded eyes blink slowly, lovingly at you. “You feel perfect,” he praises.
“Mm…” you moan with a dreamy smile, “More, Liè, please.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Can you hover in the water?”
You blink curiously at him. “I… yes, of course, but--”
“Just do it, trust me,” he states with a coy smirk.
Your hands fall from his face to rest at your sides, and it takes a surprising amount of concentration to summon the energy to fly, even if you're just hovering in place. Whether it's due to exhaustion from the earlier battle or simply that he's fucking you so well… it's hard to say. After a few moments, he feels your weight lifting from his firm hold. His thrusts pause, and he huffs out a laugh when you whine at the loss of stimulation.
“Keep your legs up like that. Hold onto my shoulders if you need to. Otherwise,” he pauses, cocking his head to the side and flashing you a cheeky smile, “...just remember that you asked for this, yuèliàng.”
You barely have time to ponder what he means by that before both of his hands grip you by the waist and his hips slam into yours. A soundless scream leaves your jaw agape as he pours every bit of his strength into his thrusts. Despite the roughness of it, you can feel the way your cunt squeezes him tighter, sucking him in every time his cock drags back out. Skin slaps against skin, and it takes every last bit of concentration and willpower you have to keep yourself aloft. The hot spring's waters splash and spray about with the frantic pace he sets, disturbing the peace of the night with the cacophonous symphony of your lovemaking.
Now that he doesn't have to hold you up himself, one hand rests on your stomach as his thumb seeks out your clit. A shock of pleasure courses through your body that leaves your toes curling. Aided by your slick and the warm water, the digit glides effortlessly in circles, and soon he's timing it perfectly with every deep thrust of his length. You find your voice again even if all you can muster are broken moans.
“F-f-hah-uh-ugh-uck!” you babble, each stammer coinciding with the hammering of his cock deep within you. It chisels away at all sense, leaving you raw and vulnerable but hotter and hotter. It burns and licks as the fires of pleasure spark brighter and more intense. Nails dig into his shoulders to keep you from wobbling mid-air.
“Shit,” he curses, hissing in pleasured pain at the feeling. “Gǎnjué zhēn dì nàme hǎo ma?” Does it really feel that good? His breathy teasing is accompanied by a confident smile even as he grits his teeth with the effort of fucking you.
His tone tells you all you need to know even if you don't recognize all the words. The low, possessive growl in his voice leaves you a whimpering mess, and you feel yourself creeping closer and closer to the precipice.
“Liè, oh, f-fuck--!” you gasp. “Right there, yes!”
An airy chortle hums in his chest between grunts. “Nǐ zhēnměi.” He takes your breast in his palm before tweaking the bud between his fingertips, and he leans in to kiss and suck at your neck. The sensations overwhelm you as your moans and whimpers grow higher and higher in pitch. His movements are messy, more instinctive than deliberate, as he gets closer to his own release.
“Yes, yes, oh, yes--!”
He can’t help himself from biting down at the sensitive spot he’s discovered at the crook of your neck, and it has you seeing stars. You send him into a frenzy with your sweet song, a siren calling him and begging him to ravage you utterly and completely. And gods, does it feel better than anything you’ve ever felt. Your body feels like it’s floating even beyond the literal sense of your powers, cresting higher and higher and--
“Cum for me, yuèliàng.” His voice is right there at your ear, a low, seductive growl, and the cord within you finally snaps.
“Liè!” you scream, your body convulsing in a mind-shattering orgasm. His thrusts falter as he feels you clamp down and flutter around his cock. A broken groan cracks in his throat and he doubles his efforts, pistoning into you relentlessly as you cry and babble out moans from the overstimulation.
“F… Fuck, Y/N, I--shit!” He quickly pulls out of you before taking himself in hand, cursing and exhaling guttural moans as he strokes himself feverishly beneath the water’s surface. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time, drinking in your half-lidded expression. With a final string of huffs and grunts he cums with a cry of your name, emptying himself into the spring. His forehead falls against yours, out of breath, pulling you into his arms as the two of you come down from your high.
You slump back down into the water and allow yourself the comfort of his embrace. He starts pressing slow, lazy kisses to your lips, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, drawing giggles from you that bring a goofy smile to his face. The peace of the night returns, and the only sounds around you are the bubbling of the spring and the soft, chirping chorus of insects and amphibians about. Your heart feels full, warm, and your eyes find his as you gaze at him reverently.
“I love you,” you whisper.
His doe eyes soften before he gives you a deeper, more insistent kiss. “I love you too.”
@nupppuff and @mosh-mosh, I hear you loud and clear! ;)
Blooded Moon
Moon Knight x Fem!Vampire!Reader
Description: Continues in Dead Man Walking! When you're on the run, cursed to be a vampire and chased by the superheroes that want to save the city, Moon Knight finds you first. Maybe saving you isn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he leaves you behind when you're this terrified. Being easy on the eyes also helps.
Warnings/Disclaimers: Gets a little spicy at the end but no smut (yet...?), cursing, angst, blood, blood-sucking, pretty vivid descriptions of the taste (I mean, it's a vampire reader, so what'd you expect?), hurt and comfort, starts out with you being chased
A/N: This has been cooking in my head since I got the first request for him, and honestly, I most likely will make a smutty part two. The main reason I took so long on it was because I wanted to research and be respectful of his DID, but then I ended up barely incorporating it anyway because I didn't feel it necessary and didn't wanna shoehorn it in either.
Word Count: 2.7k
You were one of the first to turn after the moon turned crimson and the sky froze in eternal night. It wasn’t something you asked for, and frankly, you were even more terrified now than you were before becoming a vampire. You weren’t looking for extra power, and even if it smells incredibly good now, the thought of drinking blood made your stomach turn.
The worst of it was how utterly alone you felt. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, returning to your job was out of the question, and you didn’t trust yourself around friends and family.
Oh, and there was the fact that being a vampire made you one of the targets of the superheroes trying to save the city.
This is how you find yourself now, scrambling over a concrete wall as your claws desperately search for purchase against the grit and gray. They're close now; you can hear the distinct rumble and whir of Iron Man's propulsion jets, and Moon Knight's steps clang against the rusted metal of a nearby fire escape. You manage to make it over the wall and into a small alley, tumbling into a pile of garbage bags that only barely soften your landing, but at least you can hide amongst the trash. You cower in the corner and desperately try to contain your breathing as staggered sobs choke in your throat.
“I lost her!” you hear the distorted, robotic voice of Iron Man as he zips around in the sky.
“All right, you go check the other areas. I'll keep an eye on the ground here,” Moon Knight replies from what sounds like the next building over. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. But you're too weak; you've gone too long without the sustenance your body now craves, and you've expended far too much energy avoiding them until now. Your body trembles, your breaths quivering, and you cover your head with your hands as you curl up and wait for the inevitable. His steps get closer, closer, and you hear his boots crunching over piles of garbage. A soft whimper echoes in your throat.
Surprisingly, a gentle hand gloved in white rests on your shoulder. “Hey… he's gone. Are you okay?”
Wide-eyed, your vision flashes from that hand to the face of its owner, and you let out a terrified and shaky sound at the sight of Moon Knight's hooded and masked visage. His fingertips curl a bit firmer onto the tattered remnants of your sleeve before his thumb rubs soothingly against your skin.
“It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I can tell you're scared,” he explains as he kneels next to you, his words cold comfort against the fear wracking your feeble frame. “Tony's an idiot; he thinks we're better off getting rid of most of the vampires… but you didn’t become one by choice, did you?”
You shake your head, nose sniffling before you wipe it on the back of your wrist. Even though you can't see his face, you can see the way his body slumps slightly and hear his heavy sigh.
“Thought so. Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
You shake your head again.
Moon Knight looks from side to side, and before you know it, he's scooping you out of the trash heap. You're too frozen to do anything about it, but honestly, you had been half expecting to die from this encounter anyway. Something about his hold is comforting, though, and you're finally able to relax ever so slightly.
“I'm gonna get an earful for this later, but I'll take you somewhere safe. I promise,” he utters before carting you off into the eternal night.
-----
You find yourself waiting in a lobby of the Baxter Building just outside the room where Iron Man and Moon Knight argue back and forth. Occasionally, you Mr. Fantastic butt in too.
“She could be dangerous! What if she brings more of them to her?”
“Our location hasn't been a problem in the past. Or did you forget that we're holed up in one of the most prominent buildings in New York City?” you hear Moon Knight's muffled voice through the wall fighting back.
“That's not what I meant! We don't know what these new vampires are capable of. If she's able to breach our defenses and let them in--”
“She didn't ASK for this!”
You jump in your seat when you hear the booming voice of your savior. It appears to have a similar effect on the rest of the room's occupants, as you can't seem to hear any more talking now. There's a murmuring of a woman's voice--likely Invisible Woman--but it's too quiet to make out the words. You hear stomping boots approaching the door and promptly sit up in your seat. Probably best that you don't let it be known that you were eavesdropping.
The door opens with a click, and Moon Knight's white masked visage greets you.
“Let’s go,” he says gruffly without any greeting. “I'm tired of dealing with these big time idiots.”
Unsure of what to offer in reply, you wordlessly stand and begin following him as he winds through the hallway towards an elevator. The air is heavy between you as you try to study him for any sign of what he's thinking. Though, you don’t have to wait long before he starts talking again.
“No, Khonshu. She’s different. Scared.”
“I-I’m not--”
But he seems to ignore you in favor of the voice only he can hear. “You--through me, I might add--are supposed to protect your travelers in the night. Why doesn’t she count as one of them?”
Suddenly he cries out, clutching his head in pain as he nearly doubles over. You instinctively reach a hand out to his shoulder before he flinches away from you, his movements panicked while he frantically grabs the railings along the elevator’s wall. Scared and unsure of what to do, if anything, to help him, you pull away and press your back against the opposite wall. Your breath shakes in staggered puffs through your nostrils.
“You know it to be true! You’re the one who talked about reversing it all! She needs our help!” he calls out to the air in anguish, and you can only watch on, terrified. After several more long moments, standing across from him as he slowly gains control of his breathing, it seems as though the intrusive presence he suffered has conceded for the moment. Something tells you that wouldn’t be the last time you would see him like that.
“...Moon Knight?” you murmur hesitantly, pushing off of the wall just barely. He’s still hunched over and shaking his head.
“Don’t… Don’t worry about me. Used to it,” he replies, and that’s all you get from him when you exit the elevator. He doesn’t speak again until you’ve made it to what seems to be his own private quarters for the time being.
His head turns to you, his masked face regarding you with unknown emotion. He cocks his head to the side, nodding for you to come in with him. “You’ll be safe here. Promise.”
It’s well-equipped, and it seems even more comfortable than your old apartment to boot. It makes sense, of course, but still, it’s so nice you almost feel like you’re intruding. You glance around at the standard yet luxurious furnishings, and you take note of the various bits of discarded clothing strewn about or the crumpled papers that didn’t quite make it into any of the waste bins. This eternal night must keep everyone busy at all hours.
“This is… I can’t--” you move to protest, but suddenly he draws back his hood and removes his mask.
“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts you, giving you the barest hint of a smile. He’s handsome, you realize, with scruffy brown hair and kind doe eyes to match. “I saw how scared you were… it… reminded me of myself once upon a time. A fate thrust upon you that you never asked for. I could see it in your eyes.”
Your lips part softly before you press them shut once more, and your gaze finds sudden interest in the wooden floorboards.
“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it. ‘M just explaining my reasons,” he adds before he wanders further into the apartment. “...Even if Khonshu doesn’t like it one bit.”
Khonshu. There’s that name again, and you swear you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Is… Is Khonshu the one who made your head hurt in the elevator?”
Moon Knight scoffs, shaking his head as he pours you both glasses of water. “Yeah. He’s not too pleased by defiance, and he gets even more pissed off when I point out his bullshit. Typical god stuff.”
Your eyes go wide. “A… a god!?” you exclaim in surprise. Though, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising, you realize, when you consider the amount of heroes and villains that are gods themselves.
“Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon… and vengeance. What, did you think I picked the name because it sounded cool?” he jokes before handing you a glass.
“I…” You stop and bring the glass to your lips, choosing to shut yourself up instead of embarrassing yourself any further. The water is cool, and it should be refreshing, but it stings like ice going down your throat and leaves you feeling even more thirsty than before. You wince and nearly drop the glass, but he sees your reaction and catches your hand in his to steady it. “Shit…” you mutter, feeling ashamed at the weakness that washes over you… and the warmth you feel creeping up your face at his touch.
“Right. Vampire. Probably more in the mood for blood, huh?” he asks before taking the unwanted cup from your grasp. You vehemently shake your head, curling your lip in disgust, and he snickers. “Like it or not, that’s the only thing that’ll work for you right now.”
“And you, what, just have some on hand?” you inquire half-heartedly. “I don’t want it, either way. I can’t… I’m scared I’ll lose control if I give in.”
He sighs, shaking his head. Clearly you had missed something. “We can worry about it later if you’re so against it. For now, you should at least clean up and get some rest. I’ll keep Stark off your ass in the meantime. Bathroom’s down the hall and to the right. Should be a clean robe in there, and I’ll ask Sue if she’s got some clothes you can borrow.”
When he dons his mask and hood once more, readying himself to leave, you reach forward and catch him by the crook of his elbow. His head turns to face you, and you suddenly feel vulnerable once again under that unreadable stare.
“I… thank you. I don’t know how to repay you, or why you went through this much effort to help me, but… I am grateful,” you tell him softly as your fingertips curl into the white fabric of his sleeve.
“Repay me by staying alive. Make it through this with your humanity intact. It’s all any of us can do,” he responds, clasping his hand over yours. A muffled chuckle sounds through his mask as he adds, “Guess you being pretty might have had something to do with it, too. Wouldn’t mind coming back to that face for a while.”
Oh, how incredibly unfair of him to say that behind the safety of his mask. Your eyes turn to saucers, your grip loosens, and your jaw hangs agape while heat blossoms across your cheeks. No words find themselves before he withdraws, giving you a little wave and heading out the door.
-----
It’s been a few weeks now, and you have learned quite a bit during your stay. Moon Knight--or rather, the system that is Moon Knight--had opened up to you over time, and you had come to know not just Marc Spector, but Steven and Jake as well. His system as a whole seemed to take a liking to you, and on the rare occasions that he actually had the time, you would often sit together on the couch and talk about everything and nothing. He seemed strangely content to listen to you ramble on about your past life, the friends and family you left behind, even ready to offer you a tissue or a shoulder to cry on should you need it. You had little need for sleep anymore, so you were happy to indulge in time with him every chance you had. Never did you feel trapped in this apartment; in fact, you found yourself waiting in anticipation for him to come back after every mission. He was starting to invade your thoughts even when he wasn’t with you. No one had ever treated you like this before, comforting and caring for you without making you feel lesser or like a burden.
Of course, that didn’t diminish the hunger pangs that gnawed more and more fervently at your entire being with every passing day. Marc had warned you that it might be even more dangerous to go without blood for this long, but you held fast in your convictions, and he at least respected that.
That is, until that hunger has you doubled over before curling into a fetal position. It felt like your stomach was devouring itself before draining the rest of your vitality, sapping all the remaining energy you had as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. That’s how Marc finds you when he returns, bloody and bruised.
He’s never smelled better.
“Y/N!” he calls out, hurrying over as fast as his slight limp will allow. He rips off his mask and drops to his knees to cradle you in his arms. Your breathing is shallow, and there’s an unmistakable hunger in your bloodshot eyes. “Hang on, I’ll… I--”
He frantically glances around the room even as he scours his own brain, trying to think of anything to alleviate your suffering. He’s warmth, he’s comfort… but the pounding in your head, the red that blurs at the edges of your vision, you can’t… you can’t…
“Ah, shit--fuck!”
You come to after a few moments with a rush, groaning and inhaling deeply as your fangs dig into soft flesh. Coppery… salty… sweet… the heady feeling of hot crimson hits your tongue and you forget everything else. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck as his head lolls to one side, his grip on you tightening as you drink his life’s essence. Nothing has ever tasted so good, so fulfilling, so powerful. You fall deeper and deeper into hedonistic bliss and crawl into his lap, straddling him as you take and take and--
No. No, this isn’t you. You can’t--
You break free of your blood trance, ripping away from him as he eyes you groggily. His blood is still hot on your lips, tacky as it dries before you instinctively collect it with a swipe of your tongue. Bracing your hands on his shoulders while your claws reflexively dig into them, the realization of what you’ve done fills you with horror and dread, and you stiffen with a gasp.
“Marc, I’m so sorry, are you okay!? I--”
Your apologies are silenced when he crashes his lips against yours. It’s messy, metallic, your lips sticking together every time he pulls away for breath. His hands slide down your sides, tickling your ribs before trailing down to your hips and gripping tightly. He tugs you against him. A soft moan hums in your throat, and his tongue takes the opportunity and delves into your mouth. Blood dilutes into saliva as he seems to seek it out, devouring you body and soul through his lips and tongue. To say your mind was a mess was an understatement: a violent whirlpool swirls with your emotions. You feel alive again, rejuvenated, powerful. But then there’s shock, arousal, a different hunger, a longing that leaves you panting.
Weeks worth of tentative talks and longing glances, coupled with the passionate hunger that accompanies your vampiric nature, have come to a head. When he draws back, chocolate eyes blackened with lust, his own blood smeared across his lips even as it trickles from the fresh wound on his neck, you knew one thing with certainty:
Moon Knight was an absolute freak.
And you were so into it.
Description: Sequel to Blooded Moon! When you're on the run, cursed to be a vampire and chased by the superheroes that want to save the city, Moon Knight finds you first. Maybe saving you isn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he leaves you behind when you're this terrified. Being easy on the eyes also helps.
Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, angst, blood, blood-sucking, pretty vivid descriptions of the taste (I mean, it's a vampire reader, so what'd you expect?), hurt and comfort, tearing off clothes, shower sex, fucking against the wall, doggy style, fluff and smut
A/N: Oh hey, it me <3 Been working on this one for a while! Hopefully it's a good blend of freaky with sprinkles of comfort... reader did just drink blood for the first time, after all. Title was inspired by the song of the same name (by Grant) because I listened to it at least a dozen times while writing this LOL
Word Count: 3.7k
Blood trickles from the fresh puncture wounds in his neck. Your inhibitions begin to leave you when you dive in, lapping that liquid vitality, groaning with each swallow. You don't bite again, at least not yet, but you do suck, coaxing forth just a bit more blood from his veins that you gulp down eagerly. His hips buck up into you and he lets out a low moan, fingertips delving beneath the waistband of your pants and squeezing the bare skin of your hips.
You drink in the sweet tang of his blood, the salt of his sweat. He tastes divine, and the sounds you draw from his lips leave your thighs quivering with want. It isn't long before your hips meet his in their movements, undulating and grinding against him with hot exhales of breath fanning across his neck.
Impatient hands get to work, first at his red-stained cloak, quickly followed by his pauldrons, chest plate, and his bracers and gloves. Soon he's left in just his undershirt from the chest up, the fabric clinging to every curve and muscle of his delicious frame, and your hands roam across the expanse of dark grey fabric. He shudders under your touch but doesn't remain idle as he splays his hands across your bare back before pushing your shirt up. Goosebumps litter your skin in the wake of his movements.
“Mind if I…?” he murmurs, his voice rumbling just next to your ear. A flash of your tongue cleans the drop of blood that dared to attempt an escape from your lips before you smile, baring your sharp fangs. He curses under his breath. “That… shouldn’t be as hot it is.”
A dark chuckle thrums in your chest as you raise your arms above your head and help him divest you of your shirt.
“Shit.” His eyes roam hungrily over the skin exposed to him. It’s smooth and cool like polished marble. Lips, red and sticky with blood, press searing, messy kisses along your clavicle. When his bare hands find your breasts, you gasp at just how hot he feels.
You hadn’t really considered that you were cold until now. It was your new normal. Now, with feverish palms molding and squeezing your tits and a tongue like lava savoring the expanse of your neck… surely you were going to burst into flames. It eats you alive. You need more. You need to consume, to be consumed.
Fingernails sharpen into claws before you’re tearing apart the barrier keeping you from his chest. Marc’s eyes widen, but he makes no move to stop you, shrugging off the remaining shreds of fabric as they scatter to the floor. Locking your thighs tighter around his hips, you push him down to lie on his back, smiling coyly. You drink in the veritable feast of a man beneath you. Fingertips spread through coarse, thick hair as you brace yourself against his heaving chest. Thin, angry lines criss-cross his skin, beading with red rivulets, the aftermath of your hastiness. You catch one of them on the pad of your index finger before bringing it to your lips and darting your tongue out to taste it.
But then a wave of realization washes over you. This… this isn’t you. Blood crazed, seductive, feral. It felt like someone else had taken over you.
He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the way you stiffen atop him. A gentle, albeit searing, touch grazes your cheek. “Hey… you doin’ okay?”
Your eyes snap back down to meet his, greeting that chocolate gaze with a red-tinted, frenzied glance. Breath shudders forth from your chest. “I am… I…”
Your eyelids shut tight and you hold your head in your hands. Guilt shrouds over you like a thunderous cloud. You should be asking him that question. You owed him so much, and all you’ve done is take and take and take…
The hand at your cheek presses firmer, cupping your jaw while his thumb brushes soothingly over your cheekbone. “We don’t have to do this.”
“No, I want to, I just--give me a moment.” Peeking through barely open slits, you can see the concern etched upon the lines of his face. Despite the flush that decorates it, the desire that blackens his irises, there is a patience there that, whether or not you felt deserving of it, you had grown accustomed to.
Though he does give you a few moments of silence, he eventually speaks up. “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re worried about. Khonshu sure as hell isn’t happy about it, but I don’t need him butting in on this sort of thing anyway.”
It doesn’t quell the shame, the fear of the possibility that gnaws at your conscience. “...What if you turn?” you ask meekly.
He gazes up at you softly now, a pitying exhale breathing through his lips. “Pretty sure it has to be intentional. I’ll be fine,” he reassures you. It’s not like you could argue with him; after all, only one of you had long-term experience with these sorts of things. You had only just turned a month or so ago. “Besides, I don’t think Khonshu would let me go that easily.”
A sudden twinge and a wince as he turns his head away in pain confirms that, at least.
“Yeah…” he scoffs with a cock of his head, “I’ll be fine.”
You give him a tiny, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.” When he gives you a curious look, you add, “For complicating things, I mean. With Khonshu, Iron Man, all of it.” You lean into the hand that lingers at your cheek before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. “I can’t imagine that drinking your blood will help the situation, either.”
“Stop that.”
You blink in surprise as the pad of his thumb tugs at your lip, swiping away the blood beginning to crust there. “What…?”
He sits back upright, holding your head between his palms. His touch still feels almost feverish to you, but there’s gentleness, comfort, and in this position, you can’t help but stare into his eyes and find the sincerity behind his gaze.
“You’re questioning if you’re worth the time, the effort. You don’t get to decide that.”
Your heart might as well be trapped in his fist with the way it clenches in your chest.
“I--”
“Stand up,” he commands.
Your body freezes for a moment, tender muscles only just revitalized feeling sore with the sudden tension. But he’s raising a brow, reaching down and pushing at your hips, and you don’t have time to think when you’re too busy collecting your bearings and keeping your balance. Were your legs really this wobbly before? You stagger to your feet like a newborn fawn.
“Let’s get you washed up,” he adds sternly, pointing with a nod of his head in the direction of his sleeping quarters. When you hesitate, he stands and sighs with a slump of his shoulders. “C’mon. You trust me, don’t you?”
What did trust have to do with it? Other than you being around him at all as a blood sucking vampire, or as someone who up until recently was a complete stranger, or how another member of his team wanted you wiped off the face of the earth, or--
“Hey. Snap out of it.” Despite his tone, his hand takes yours gingerly. Your eyes snap towards his, surprised to find him gazing warmly at you through cocoa irises. “We can explore whatever the fuck just happened later, but you clearly need a minute, and we both could stand to have a little less blood caked on us.”
-----
You remember how the faucet on your apartment’s shower used to squeak when turned. Of course, being in the Baxter building, the plumbing had no such problems here. Only the hiss of warm water sounds before the streams begin to drum against the porcelain floor.
It’s funny… only a few minutes prior, you were practically ripping each other’s clothes off. Now it’s an awkward fumble, grunts and oofs punctuated with occasional apologies, stumbling against the wall with pants legs tangled around your ankles. You bump your nose against his knee at one point and your eyes begin to water even as you snort out a laugh at your clumsiness.
“You know,” you start with an airy chortle, “I always thought being a vampire would lend a bit more grace to the afflicted.”
The water is almost too hot when you step into it, but there's comfort in the steam that coalesces about your body. Marc joins you soon after, and you can tell he's trying to give you space if you need it…
…even if his arousal still occasionally nudges your thigh or butt.
Who could blame the man when sanguine perfection stands before him?
You hear him grunt with discomfort as the water washes over his fresh cuts and bruises. Regardless, it isn't long before lavender hits your nostrils and you feel strong, firm hands at your shoulders.
“S'pose it's like piloting a new body,” he replies as he massages the soap into your tender skin. A contented hum rumbles in your throat and your head lolls lazily to one side. “You, uh… changed a bit once you tasted my blood.”
“Don't remind me,” you groan.
“No, not like that,” he chuckles. “I mean physically. You got stronger. Your… you seemed to perk up a bit.” His voice wavers. Did he sound embarrassed?
“I… what?”
Soap lathered hands make their way down your back. His thumbs press outside the ridges of your spine, mapping every dip and curve. Your cheek presses against the cool tile wall as his fingertips work miracles into your aching muscles, melting you like butter. Your back arches with the pleasant side benefit of pushing your ass out towards him, and you can feel him freeze for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovers.
“Pretty sure it was mainly the muscles, and it's nothing dramatic, but ah…” his touch dips lower, leaning forward with his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. Now his hands are at your hips and you feel the hesitation in his tensed fingers. “Seems like you got a bit of a lift in certain areas.”
Oh. You peek down at your chest, and it does seem a bit more shapely, but you had been a bit too distracted to notice earlier. Blood sucking, kissing, and all that.
“I guess it makes sense. Vampires in the stories are always supposed to be alluring, right?” you reason with a chuckle, though a smirk does tug at your lips. “How'd you notice the difference?”
“I, well… you see--” he stammers, and you feel his body stiffen.
“I'm teasing, Marc,” you reassure him with a lilting giggle. He relaxes only slightly, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “I… like knowing you look at me like that. Like this.” You turn in his hold, pressing your back to the tile and taking his hands in yours. He drinks in your nude form hungrily, openly, eyeing the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the fill of your hips. It sparks something in your chest before a warming flame flickers in your belly.
“I like you.”
His eyes flicker down to your lips, no longer painted red with his blood now that the water has washed it away. There’s that hesitation again, even if his eyes are halfway through fucking you already. Something holds him back. You lace your fingers together before bringing your joined hands above your head, forcing him to lean towards you to keep his balance. Water beads and drips from his messy brown locks onto your face, but you barely even notice it. All you can focus on is the way his gaze bores into you, eyes darkened with lust yet softened by tenderness. This was different from before, when everything had happened so fast. Taut strings of building tension had snapped, pooling desires had overflowed.
But this?
You study his rugged features, dropping one hand to press your fingertips and drag them languidly along the scratchy stubble of his jawline. Cupping his face, you can trace the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone while his eyes flutter closed. In this moment, you have all the time in the world.
“Well… good thing I like you, too,” he responds gruffly, untangling your fingers to brace himself against the wall. He leans over you properly, caging you with his palms flat on either side of your head, pinching his inner lip between his canines.
You let out a shuddery breath as your eyes devour every delicious detail of him, openly ogling every muscle. Your fingertips fall to his chest again, gentler this time, but still raking through that coarse chest hair and following it across his stomach as it trails all the way down, down…
You draw your index finger teasingly down his shaft. A sharp intake of breath hisses through his teeth as his brow knits together, and his cock twitches expectantly in response to your touch.
“I can tell.”
There's barely enough time for that cheeky smirk to spread across your face before he dives in, groaning and slanting his mouth over yours. Salt, sweat, the lingering taste of his blood accented by the somewhat metallic tang of the shower water, is all spoon fed to your palette when his tongue parts the seam of your lips. You gasp delightedly at his eagerness and wrap your fingers around him properly. In response, one hand shoots down to your thigh and digs into the plush flesh, hiking your leg up and pushing you firmly against the cold tile.
It's a mess of teeth and tongue, wet and warmth, hunger and affection. Your tongues dance, caress, fight, but he relents when you suck on the appendage, letting out a breathy groan and rutting into your hand.
Gently, avoiding breaking the skin, you kiss and suck, grazing your fangs across his skin as your lips trail along his jaw towards your prize. He surrenders willingly, almost excitedly, tilting his head to expose his neck to you. The animal in you begs you to bite down, to take in more of that liquid vitality, but you have to prove yourself worthy of his trust, worthy of his affection, worthy of this.
“You…” Another pleasured exhale interrupts him. “You don’t have to be gentle.” It’s so sincere it makes your chest ache, your lips trembling as they hover over his pulse point.
“Let me be,” you plead softly as your breath fans across his neck. “Let me prove that I can.”
His head turns and presses an awkward kiss to the soaked strands of your hair. “Alright. Can’t promise I will be, though.”
You snort out a sudden laugh at that before echoing his own sentiment. “You certainly don’t have to be gentle with me.”
It seems to spur him to action once more. Reaching down to replace your hand with his own, he strokes his cock and lines it up with your entrance. You’re more than ready, practically dripping even without the water that cascades down your bodies. Despite all of his talk, his reassurances, his patience, you can tell it’s all beginning to wear thin as his breathing grows more and more ragged when the tip nudges past your labia.
Your knee is practically pressed to your chest, folding you in half as he holds your perfect legs wide open. It takes effort, conscious thought, to breathe as you hug your arms around his shoulder and bury your face into his neck, but you’re rewarded with the delicious drag of his cockhead as it slides into you.
“Fuck…”
A single curse shouldn’t be so attractive, but the way his voice goes gravelly, breathy, the way he digs his fingers into your thigh just to keep himself composed, all because of you? You could live off of this high.
True to his word, it doesn’t take long before he’s snapping his hips against yours, fucking you into the tiles. You would be surprised, no, impressed by his stamina despite your earlier drink if it weren’t for the fact that you were preoccupied spilling moan after moan into the crook of his neck. He slides in and out of you so easily, curves just right, that you can’t help but wonder if his cock was somehow made for you. Every nerve ending is set alight with pleasure, the searing heat of his body branding you as you hold on for dear life and dig your nails into his back.
“M-Marc! Oh fuck-” you breathe into his skin. You taste the salty tang of his sweat against your lips as he pistons in and out of you in a heated frenzy.
Your moans are music to his ears. He cups your ass in his other hand before lifting you up completely, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing you against the wall. His pace never falters, and the slight change in angle leaves you keening out high-pitched cries and seeing stars. The muscles of your core tense as that wonderful pleasure starts to build. His hips clap against yours, and his pubic bone grinds deliciously against your clit with every thrust.
“That’s it--fuck, feels so good… shit…” he praises, grunting with effort when your velvety walls clench around him. “Perfect… so fucking perfect--”
You whine as a tingling sensation sparks across your body and spreads to your extremities. No one has ever fucked you so well, so thoroughly, and your heightened vampiric senses only seem to multiply the sensations tenfold. You feel every inch of him with every thrust, feel the way he fucks into you like his life depends on it, feel the press of his fingers as they squeeze into your flesh.
“Right there, yes!” you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall when he angles his thrusts ever so slightly to the side. You’re so close, so fucking close, your moans growing airier, whinier, desperate.
And then he’s setting you back down onto your feet, and you can’t believe he would have the audacity when you were this fucking close--!
But he’s breathing heavily, his heart racing, when that gruff voice commands, “Turn around.”
That alone almost makes up for it, sending shivers down your spine that morph into pleasured shudders that warm you to your core.
He pulls out of you and you’re quick to comply, turning and bracing your hands against the same wall that had been kind enough to support you so far. It’s mere seconds before his hands find your ass, cupping it possessively. Your back arches and you press impatiently against his achingly hard cock, still slick with your juices, peering over your shoulder and biting your lip. Your fang just barely pricks the plump flesh and draws forth a bead of blood that you instinctively lap up even if it’s your own.
“F-Fuck… needed this view.” His voice is like silk and gravel, breathless, airy, and rough. He wastes no more time in reentering you.
Oh gods.
If you thought he was perfect before, if you thought there was no way he could feel even better, you were criminally mistaken. It’s too sinful to be heaven and yet it’s pure euphoria as he fucks you hard and fast, the curve of his length dragging perfectly and hitting that spongy spot that leaves you whimpering and babbling for more. One hand darts between your legs and feverishly your fingertips circle your clit, timing it with his thrusts. Your ass and tits bounce with the force of his fucking, and he leans over you to capture one of your breasts in his hand as he pinches and squeezes at your supple skin. Hot breath puffs against your back.
“Can feel… you squeezing me… shit, come on--” he grunts.
All you can give in response are gasps and lilting cries as your moans grow higher and higher in pitch. Your cheek is smashed against the wall and your jaw hangs slack, drooling with pleasure. His cock hammers into you, fingers tug and twist at your nipple, and your own work desperately at your bud as you chase the wave that crests higher and higher within you. The closer you get, the more your moans sound like pleas for release. He doesn’t relent, even as his breathing grows more and more labored, the effort leaving his body even hotter against the permanent chill of your vampiric skin.
“Yes, yes, fu--hah… mm--mmh--fuck!” Your throat is hoarse from moaning and leaves your voice wispy and airy as you crest closer, closer, chasing the wave and riding it further and further--
It crashes, and you crash with it, slamming into you with a flurry of fiery, euphoric explosions as you spasm and convulse, crying out with your orgasm as your core tightens and your pussy grips his cock like a vice.
“Shit!” he curses, leaning back and gripping your hips with both hands as he slams into you, chasing his own release. You shudder as he fucks you through the aftershocks. Faster. Faster. It’s almost bruising, but you’re made of tougher stuff than most. Gargled moans bubble in your throat.
He finally stills in you with a guttural groan, emptying his load deep into you as he pants for breath. His grip on you finally loosens before he slumps forward, catching himself on the wall as the shower fills the silence with the gentle hiss of water. Your head is filled with a pleasant buzz, your mind hazy as you try to stagger yourself upright.
Before you can stand up fully, however, Marc’s arms wrap tightly around your waist as he hugs you to him. It’s a complete turnaround from how rough he had been just moments ago. Tender, loving, even. The hug turns into a sway, guiding the two of you back and forth softly. He buries his nose into the crook of your neck.
“You good?” he murmurs. His lips press gentle kisses along your shoulder.
Affection swells in your chest and you nuzzle into him with your cheek. How could you put it into words suitable enough? For the first time since your transformation, you felt whole again, accepted, trusted, cared for.
“I feel wonderful,” you beam, wrapping your arms around his. It’s good that you’re turned away from him in the shower, because you feel the happy tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
For the first time in months, in the arms of the man that saved your life in more ways than he could imagine, you were more than good.
You were home.
smut & fluff with rivals!star lord x fem reader please,,,
Prepare to have your teeth rot <3
Hearts and Ribbons
Star-Lord x Fem!Reader
Description: Your boyfriend interrupts your beauty sleep to present you with a Valentine's gift... of himself!
Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, Star-Lord being canonically insufferable with his sense of humor, lots of fluff and comfort
A/N: I really let my cringe fly with this one. Star-Lord was actually stupid fun to write because of the joke potential. Also, I let the feels propel me forward, so this is barely proofread and I apologize.
Word Count: 2.9k
“Rise and shine, sweetheart!”
You groan sleepily, rubbing your eyes as the light to your sleeping quarters interrupts your slumber with its artificial yellow glare. With your brow furrowed, you narrowly blink one eye open to see who the perpetrator of this punishable offense was, and groan again when you see your boyfriend grinning ear to ear in your doorway.
“Peter,” you grumble, “what the hell? Why did you wake me up?” He winces at the irritation ringing clear as day in your voice. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as your vision begins to clear. “...and why are you in a bathrobe?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot!?” he exclaims as he stands at the side of your bed. You sit up to get a better look at him, your hair falling messily around your face. When you blink at him tiredly, giving him an unamused look, he sighs in defeat. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Well, back on Earth it is. I’ve been keeping track. Call me your calendar-ling.”
He’s too proud of that.
“Mmff… well we’re not on Earth, so…” you mutter in annoyance as you lie back down and tug the covers over your head. “...we can do Valentine’s in about 3 hours or so. Need my beauty sleep”
“Aww,” he whines, and it should be annoying, but there’s something adorable whenever he pouts like a little kid. “And to think, I got your present ready and everything!”
Your ears perk up at that. Material girl living in a material… universe, or something like that. He sees he’s piqued your interest and grins cheekily. His hand gives your comforter an experimental tug, just to see if you’ll let him, and you finally relent, rolling back over to face him.
“Okay, okay,” you sigh, giving him a slight smile as you start to sit yourself upright again. “What’d you get me?”
Tongue-in-cheek, his hand finds its way to the tie of his robe. The fuzzy fleece-like fabric zips with a whisper when he pulls it loose. It slips off of his shoulders and crumples to the ground in a puddle of cloth around his feet, leaving him entirely naked as he proudly places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. A red ribbon criss-crosses his body, wrapping around his waist, his pecs, outlining his thighs, until finally it all comes together in a perfectly tied ribbon around his half hard penis.
“Me!”
Of course seeing him wrapped up like a pretty present is enough to get you a little hot and bothered. But he had interrupted your sleep presumably for Valentine’s sex, so in turn you had to tease him. With your best poker face, you cross your arms and look unimpressed.
“Oh. I was hoping you made breakfast or something,” you tut.
He deflates immediately, his arms flopping down at his sides, and you almost feel bad. “Well, I… I mean I could go grab--!”
You interrupt him with an airy giggle and take his hand in yours, pulling him onto the bed with you. It’s not the most graceful thing, and he lands with a soft “oof” on top of you while half crushing your rib cage, but you quickly pull him into your embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck while his find their place at your waist, though he does still look a bit befuddled by your sudden change in attitude.
“I’m kidding. Well, mostly,” you snicker before kissing the tip of his nose, loving the way it crinkles. “I am a bit hungry…” you add teasingly. The pad of your index finger trails along his jawline, tilting his chin up to press your lips softly against his. “...and you seem to have wrapped up a perfect snack just for me.”
His eyes darken slightly at the seductive purr of your voice, and he props himself up on his elbows to hover over you. “Oh, I’m a whole Happy Meal, babe.”
“You are the worst,” you respond with a giggly snort, but you contain any further laughter as you press that same finger to his chest, trailing along the line of the ribbon he’s wound himself in. Your touches travel lower, fingertips grazing along the soft silk almost ticklishly. While your eyes follow your hand, his are locked onto your face, watching your expression with rapt attention and studying the details of your face. He could probably draw it by memory if he were any good at that sort of thing, but he could never grow tired of looking at you. Feeling his gaze burn into your very soul, your eyes flicker back up to his.
“I’ll be anything as long as I still get to look at this gorgeous face,” he breathes. It’s so genuine that your face heats up immediately and your expression softens as your heart clenches in your chest. He could say a thousand pick-up lines, a million terrible jokes, make you groan and roll your eyes a billion times, but he could never stop you from loving him. Hell, you loved him because of that, and so much more, not in spite of it. Your palm rests against his cheek, and he leans into it happily.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” you tease, the mirthful lilt in your voice ensuring he knows you’re kidding.
“Said,” he corrects you with a cheeky smile as his fingers card soothingly through your hair. “Now those words are all yours.”
“Sweettalker,” you hum as you toy with the neatly tied bow between his legs.
He gives you a throaty chuckle. “You know you love it.”
You hum your agreement before your hand wraps around his cock, the heat of your palm drawing a hiss from his lips as you begin stroking him languidly. He kisses you hungrily then, nipping and tugging at your bottom lip before his tongue is dancing with yours. Bracing himself on one elbow, his other hand grips your hip before sliding up beneath your nightshirt, groaning into your mouth when he cups your breast.
With every flick of your thumb over the tip he’s bucking into your hand, precum dribbling forth as you collect it on your fingertips and smear it over his length. He’s so hard, so ready and needy for you, and it makes your mouth water in anticipation. His lips leave yours, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access as he leaves heated kisses along the column of your throat.
“Peter,” you breathe reverently, exhaling a blissful sigh when his fingertips roll your nipple between them.
You can feel him smiling against your neck. “‘Could listen to that all day,” he muses aloud before he continues sucking a dark spot into your skin.
“Mm… maybe I could record my own mixtape for you then,” you chortle as your hand quickens. “Let you listen to my moans, the sounds of you fucking me…”
A broken moan staggers from his throat as he bites down onto your neck and you gasp softly. Well, now you have his birthday gift planned, at least.
The wet heat of his tongue laves up your neck, soothing the reddening mark and indent of his teeth. “I think I prefer the live show more.”
“Then why don’t you give me a show, lover boy?” you taunt as you guide the tip of his cock to drag up and down the dampening fabric of your underwear. You bite your lip and suppress the soft moan in the back of your throat when he brushes against your clothed clit.
He shakes his head, his blonde hair tickling your face as he suddenly sits back. Now it’s your turn to let out a dissatisfied whine, and he takes way too much pride in the way you pout up at him. You’re a complete mess, with bruised lips, hickeys lining one side of your neck, and your shirt pushed all the way up your chest to expose your breasts. No, he has something else in mind entirely.
“You’re the star, babe. And Star-Lord deserves VIP treatment, don’t you think?” He takes himself in hand then, swatting yours away as he taps his cock against your inner thigh. “I wanna watch you ride me,” he says huskily as his eyes meet yours. There’s so much want, so much raw desire in his gaze, that it makes your heart pound in your chest. You need him so badly that denying such a request or even making fun of such a cheesy use of his hero name never crosses your mind.
You scoot over wordlessly, and he grins wickedly before flopping onto his back. It was an undeniably tantalizing view, seeing him wrapped head to toe in that shiny red ribbon. You shimmy out of your panties before throwing your leg over his hip to straddle him. His hands find your waist again before sliding up, cupping your breasts as you make a show of removing your shirt and your hips rock against his. He could feel just how wet you were when his dick slides along your slickened slit, and it drives him crazy. When your hands rest atop his, guiding him as his fingers squeeze into the plush of your tits, he lets out a shuddery groan.
“Like this, Star-Lord?” you ask with mock, saccharine sweetness. He bucks up into your heat. Oh, how he loved when you used his moniker in the bedroom.
“Fuck, yes, baby. You’re so sexy,” he rambles, moaning when your grinding makes the tip of his cock nearly slip into your sex. You line him up properly then, easing down onto his length almost too easily, and he grips your thigh possessively as his head falls back against the pillow. You take him to the hilt and he snaps back up, watching where the two of you meet as you immediately begin bouncing up and down with breathy moans. “That’s it. Give me a show.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your brows knit together while your lips part with your soft “oh”s and “ah”s. His hand falls from your breast so he can admire the way your tits bounce with your movements. The sensation of a loose silk knot nudging your clit every time you come down is strange but not unpleasant. Peter sees you looking down at it and chuckles.
“Look at you. So needy that you can’t even properly unwrap your toys before you play with them,” he teases before pressing his palm flat against your stomach and finding your bud with the pad of his thumb. The added sensation leaves your thighs quivering around him, and you bite down softly on your finger to muffle the keening sound in your throat. You want to tease him back, to point out how he’s calling himself your toy, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Instead he lifts his hips up just a bit, nearly setting you off balance as you gasp and lean back to brace your hands on his knees, and he thrusts up into you at an angle that has you seeing stars.
“Oh, fuck!” you curse, barely remembering to bounce back against him as he pounds up into you. He knew your body too well, knew every spot, every way to touch you to turn you to putty in his hands. Your eyes are too busy rolling back into your head to see the way he smiles devilishly up at you. Watching you come undone because of him was intoxicating, and he was absolutely drunk on you.
“That’s it, Y/N, keep singing for me like that,” he praises you, swiping feverish circles into your clit in time with his thrusts. “Let the whole ship know who’s girl you are.”
That idea shouldn’t turn you on, and in your right mind that would be the last thing you would want to think about, but the thought of it now has your walls clenching around him and milking him for all he’s worth. Pressure coils low in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every nudge of his cock head against your g-spot and every flick of his thumb on your pearl. Your moans turn into begging and praising.
“Yes, yes, Star-Lord, yes!” you babble between pleasured sighs. If you keep that up, there’s no way he’ll be able to last much longer. He pulls you down, earning a surprised yelp that he muffles with a searing kiss. He doesn’t relent, pistoning in and out of you as your moans grow higher and higher in pitch. With a tilt of his head the kiss deepens, and your mind goes hazy with desire while your tongues engage in another messy battle that leaves your head spinning. It’s all too much and finally the coil snaps, and you orgasm deliciously while your cries are swallowed by his kisses. He can’t hold back anymore, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you down before going into an absolute frenzy. His cock hammers into your sensitive walls and he buries his face in your chest, moaning and groaning as you cry out from the overwhelming sensations.
Your name leaves his lips over and over, uttering it like a prayer before he lets out a guttural cry, stilling and spilling himself into you.
The two of you slump against each other on the bed, panting as the afterglow washes over you. Resting your head on his chest, you roll your neck so that your cheek is smushed against his shoulder. In your post orgasmic bliss, your eyes gaze up at him lovingly, and a dopey smile spreads across your face. Peter looks down at you and smirks, bringing a hand up to brush through your now even messier hair.
“You know I love you, right? For… for you, I mean,” you murmur as you stare into each other’s eyes.
He gives you a quizzical look. “I… what do you mean?”
Your hand rests on his chest, and you draw lazy circles into his skin with your fingertip. “That I don’t need you to be Star-Lord. That I fell in love with Peter Quill, the man, and not Star-Lord, Guardian of the Galaxy.”
His eyes widen for just a moment before they narrow and soften. Arms wrap around you tightly then, squeezing you into a hug that nearly relieves your lungs of all their air.
“I… I know,” he responds, nuzzling his nose into your hair and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “Even if it’s still hard to believe sometimes.”
It’s rare that he lets himself be insecure around anyone. You do your best to return his hug, draping your arms around his shoulders and pressing soft kisses to whatever skin you could reach. Taking the moment to savor each other, intimately enjoying one another’s embrace, you allow your eyes to wander about your room and… wait, hold on… when did…?
Strings of paper hearts, seemingly cut out by hand, zigzag and drape from the ceiling all around. A box of chocolates rests on your nightstand next to a vase of gorgeous flowers.
“Did you…?” you start, lifting your head to get a better look around you.
Peter’s laugh rumbles in his chest. “Finally noticed?”
“I-I…” you stutter, embarrassed at the realization that you had been entirely oblivious to the rest of his preparations until now.
“Figured you’d just wanna skip to the main course, so I didn’t say anything,” he teases with a wink. He reaches over, divesting the box of its lid before procuring a chocolate and offering it to your lips. You playfully roll your eyes at him before opening your mouth, taking the morsel gently between your teeth. It’s good. You haven’t had chocolate like this in a while. Your eyes close and you hum in satisfaction, and your reaction brings an ecstatic grin to his face.
“I’m glad you kept track,” you admit, “of Valentine’s, I mean, but… why?”
He takes a deep breath before answering. “We… we’re in space all the time. Dealing with, you know, other planets and types of people. Different rotations, different calendars, different days. It gets hard to keep track of time passing or even when it’s supposed to be day or night. But since you and I are both from Earth, it… I guess it feels important. To remember, I mean. It grounds me, even all the way out here in space.”
You smile fondly at him and lean up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “That’s surprisingly poetic of you, Peter.”
He snorts, giving you a playful flick on the head. “I’ll have you know that many people have told me I have an excellent way with words.”
“Imaginary friends don’t count, you know.”
“Hey!” he exclaims as you fall into a fit of giggles. It’s impossible for him to stay mad when you look so perfect, so sweet, so comfortable and at home in his arms. The back of his fingers brush along your cheekbone, and your giggles gently fade into bare titters as you continue to flash him a toothy grin.
“I love you,” he breathes out.
Your heart flutters no matter how many times he says that, and you lean into his touch. “I love you too, Peter. Happy Valentine’s day.”
Description: You're always healing them so that they can let loose on the battlefield. Now it's your turn to let them do the work.
Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, clothed sex, minor mentions of alcohol, Bucky's arm tentacles, choking, spanking, rough sex, threesome, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, light bondage??? if you count the tentacles?, Frank's kind of an ass but means well, one (1) terrible pun
A/N: Fulfilling a request for Bucky or Frank wasn't something I ever thought I'd do, but my interest was piqued and I decided to give it a shot. And then it turned into a light novel. Also... gods it feels SO weird calling him Frank.
Word Count: 5k
When Frank and Bucky invited you over, you thought it was just a casual meet up between colleagues, no, friends to enjoy what little downtime you had between missions. Order some take out, maybe drink a few beers… you know the drill.
Even so, you couldn't help taking the chance to dress up a little bit. It was so rare that you got out (outside of work, at least) so you tended to go a little over the top when the opportunities presented themselves. Surely you couldn't go wrong with a cute dress and tights.
Plus, who doesn't want to look this good in front of two absolutely gorgeous men?
It was hard enough that you were attracted to both of them. Flirting with one felt like some unspoken betrayal to the other, so you usually just tried to push those feelings down. But you weren't blind; unlike their more practical clothing and tactical gear, your hero suit hugged you in all the right places, and you had caught them both staring multiple times. You'd even teased them on more than one occasion about finding better partners if they were going to keep getting distracted on the job.
So why not throw caution to the wind while you can and give them a little more to look at?
Despite your original confidence, when you rap your knuckles on the door to Frank's apartment, you couldn't help the flutter of butterflies that burst forth in your stomach. What if your neckline plunged too low? What if they got the wrong (right?) idea about you from the fishnets that hug your hips just as tightly as the skirt of your dress?
You're unable to dwell on those thoughts for long before the door opens, and you're face to face with Bucky in a wife beater and joggers. His calm and collected demeanor slips for just a second, and his eyes are devouring your figure before he realizes what he's doing. He clears his throat and presses his lips shut into a thin line.
“Y/N. Good. You made it.” He blinks, scratching the back of his head with his organic arm, and steps back to allow you inside. “You… You look good,” he adds with a curt nod.
“Close the damn door. Air conditioning isn’t cheap, you know,” you hear Frank’s gruff voice call out from further in.
“I’m offering good company for free. Think that’ll cover it?” you retort with a cheeky smile as you round the corner into the living room, your heels clacking on the wooden floors.
To his credit, Frank doesn’t even try to hide the once-over he gives you. All you get in return is an amused snort. He looks good, you think, in a simple t-shirt and jeans. The denim has a few oil stains and the shirt is probably a size too small, but it suits him. You certainly can't complain about being able to see his strong physique on full display. Honestly, the two of them just look the same as they usually do minus all the extra equipment. Now you really feel overdressed.
“You heading out to the club after this or something?” Frank quips while gesturing to your outfit.
Before you get the chance to be terribly embarrassed or even defend yourself, Bucky returns the Punisher's snark. “She can dress how she wants, old-timer. And don't think I missed the way you looked at her.”
You flash Bucky a smile of thanks. Frank grumbles something about being called “old-timer” by the guy who's older than him, but otherwise drops it. Bucky disappears into the kitchen for a minute, followed soon after by the sounds of bottles clinking in the opened fridge.
Frank pats the seat next to him. Once you oblige, sinking into the poor, abused couch that threatens to swallow you whole in its cushions, he heaves a big sigh.
“You do look good. Just had to tease you,” he explains himself before Bucky reappears behind you with three beers in hand. “But Winter Princess over here had to get his panties in a knot over it,” he adds with a pointed smirk.
“If this weren't your place, I might smash this bottle over your head,” Bucky taunts back even as he hands him one.
He vaults over the back of the couch, throwing himself back into the cushions without much grace and landing next to you with an audible oomph. It launches you up a little in your seat. That, coupled with their banter, draws a lilting giggle from your lips. Bucky shoots you the softest of smiles. Ah… you were wondering when the butterflies in your stomach were coming back.
He hands you the last beer, and you see the metal plates of his arm open and shift about before a tentacle reaches out and pops the cap off for you.
“Nice Swiss Arm-y Tool you got there,” you can't help but say with a shit-eating grin as you catch the cap in your other hand. Frank snorts again and Bucky sighs, losing his smile immediately and shutting his eyes.
“I will take yours back,” he threatens half-heartedly.
The tentacle that slithered about after opening the bottle lingers for a moment, and you pull back with a start when the cold appendage brushes against your wrist. Bucky's eyes widen and he quickly withdraws, metal clanking and shrieking against itself as he returns his arm to its usual state.
“Sorry. They have a mind of their own sometimes. Been meaning to see Shuri about that,” he explains apologetically. He can’t seem to look you in the eye.
“I-It’s okay,” you manage to eke out, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where it had touched you. You knew about them, fighting with him as you so often did, but that was the first time you'd felt them. It was so alien, and you shudder at the thought of what they could have been if Hydra had their way.
“And I thought I was a buzzkill,” Frank finally chimes in as he starts flicking through channels with the TV remote. It earns him a glare from Bucky, but he ignores it. He settles on some random sci-fi movie for background noise before setting the remote onto the arm of the couch. That'll probably get lost between the cushions later.
Despite his intent, you find yourself trying to focus on what's on the screen instead of the awkward silence building between you three. You hadn’t seen Fifth Element in ages. Trying (and failing) to ease your nerves, you lean back in your seat, crossing one leg over the other as you take a swig of beer. Eugh. Frank definitely wasn't breaking the bank for this brand.
After a little while, you all settle into what is at least a slightly more comfortable silence. Fifth Element just has a way of bringing people together, you suppose. Bucky props a foot up on one knee, and you don't miss the way he rests his mechanical arm on the back of the couch behind you. Frank leans forward and leans his elbows on his thighs, and his repositioning leaves his leg pressing against yours. The scratchy denim catches a bit on your fishnets, and even through the thick fabric you can feel the heat of his skin.
It continues like that for several minutes. Your eyes, as discreetly as you can manage, keep finding their way to the men on either side of you. You notice the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest, the way his shoulder muscles twitch every once in a while when he adjusts his metallic arm. You see Frank's fingers tense a bit around the neck of the bottle he holds, and suddenly a part of you wonders how those fingers would feel around your own neck…
Korben Dallas and Leeloo just aren't capturing your attention anymore.
“Met Bruce Willis once. Weird guy,” Frank suddenly pipes up. It takes you by surprise and you actually jump in your seat, granting you raised eyebrows from both of them.
“You okay, Y/N?” Bucky asks as he turns his body to face you better.
Warmth rushes to your face. “I-I'm fine! I don't know why that startled me. Guess I was just lost in the movie,” you lie as you run a nervous hand through your hair.
Frank places a hand on your bare shoulder and squeezes a bit. His palm is searing, no, branding on your skin, the ghost of it lingering even when he pulls away.
“You're tense, doll face. Somethin’ the matter?” he asks.
“Probably working too hard. Come to think of it, this is the first time I've seen Y/N outside of work,” Bucky comments with a hint of genuine concern. His metal hand finds the back of your neck and massages it gently, and you feel your face flush even more at the sudden contact. “You can loosen up, you know,” he teases.
It does feel nice, you can't deny that.
“Yeah… loosen up…” you murmur, trying to sound thoughtful. Your head bobs a bit as Bucky continues, and you see a slight smile return to his face.
You can also feel the tension in the room shift… but you don’t see the way Bucky and Frank look at each other as your eyes flutter close. A wordless exchange occurs between them unbeknownst to you, and they both nod in agreement.
It was something they’d discussed before, after all.
“You’re always taking care of us, you know. And I don’t just mean on the battlefield,” Bucky mutters in your ear. When had he gotten that close? “You’re always checking up on us, calling or texting us to see if we’re doing okay…”
“We invited you over to let loose, sweetheart. And you’re not doing a very good job of it yet,” Frank adds gruffly.
“I… I’m sorry?” you finally respond with a slight laugh in your voice. You’re not sure if you should apologize or not, really.
“Maybe you should be,” Frank grunts as his hand rests on your knee.
Bucky chuckles. “Don’t be sorry.” He’s practically leaning into you now, and you can feel his breath on your ear. It sends shivers across your skin. “Just let us take care of you… if you want us to, of course,” he adds.
“What is…?” You want to say “happening,” but words seem to fail you when Frank cups your jaw and forces him to look at you.
“I said you looked good. But I think you’d look even better without that get-up,” he almost growls. His eyes are dark with something you’ve never seen in him before, and a shuddered breath slips from your lips.
“O-Oh…”
It’s all you can muster.
But that’s all it takes.
You don’t have to wonder what Frank’s fingers feel like on your neck anymore as he grabs the back of your head and tugs you into a possessive, devouring kiss. His lips are rough, a bit chapped, but that doesn’t matter when his tongue delves eagerly into your mouth. The hand on your knee grips you harder.
“Should have known you’d be the impatient one,” Bucky chides before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of your neck. The stubble on his chin scratches against your skin in the best way. A broken moan gurgles in your throat.
Well. This was not how you were expecting the night to go at all.
You hear metallic tings and clangs behind you, and that’s all the warning you have before tentacles are slithering down your back and sides. It’s a little cold and it certainly catches you by surprise, but the way they slip under your dress is undeniably erotic. Bucky freezes. Ah, so he hadn’t meant to do that.
Breathing heavily, you break the kiss with Castle to face Bucky with lust-darkened eyes. “N-No… it’s okay,” you breathe. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head, but once his eyes flicker down to your panting and kiss-bruised lips, desire wins over. He nods, dumbfounded, before claiming his own turn at kissing you.
Frank, a bit perturbed at having his make out session interrupted, takes out his frustrations on the opposite side of your neck. Where Bucky was passionate and intense, Frank is angry, biting hard and sucking dark hickies into your skin. If you were standing, you know your knees would be wobbling. His hand travels higher, roughly massaging your inner thigh with callused fingers.
Tentacles squirm down the front of your dress, curling underneath your breasts and squeezing them. You gasp into Bucky’s mouth and he bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. Even more tendrils travel lower, cold shocking your feverish skin, and you feel them toying with the elastic band of your panties. Bucky’s hair tickles your nose when he presses his forehead to yours, panting slightly.
“Been wanting to do that for a while… you sure you’re okay with this?” Bucky asks even as his body is clearly trembling with unsatiated lust.
When you open your mouth to answer, Frank bites down hard on your neck, and you’re seeing stars as he draws a cry from your throat. You can feel him smiling against your skin.
“Twenty bucks says she’s soaked through. You’re enjoying it just fine, aren’t you sweetheart?”
“I-I…” you start, but only a low groan follows when he nibbles on your earlobe. Their lips occupied everything from your neck up while tentacles lavished you with attention beneath your dress. Frank was right: you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs already. His hand teasing at your inner thigh and dipping beneath the hem of your skirt certainly wasn't helping.
“She can't even think straight. I think it's working,” Frank snickers. He palms your breast roughly through your dress, finding the hardening nipple and tugging on it through the fabric.
“F-fuck…” you stammer breathlessly. You're still facing Bucky, and he's drinking in every delicious expression of desire that crosses your face. He adjusts himself in his pants, but the tent forming there is obvious. Your mouth waters when you catch a glimpse of it.
Bucky’s hand finds itself on your opposite thigh, spreading your legs apart as tentacles dip lower. Your breathing stops in anticipation. Part of you wonders if he can feel everything that they feel. The groan he utters when he swipes a tendril up your clothed slit answers that question, and you answer him in kind with a throaty whine.
“She's drenched, Castle,” he growls before kissing you again.
“And we're only just getting started,” Frank adds as his hand yanks down the front of your dress. You let out a soft gasp as those rough fingers grope at your bare skin. His teeth and tongue work their way down your chest. When his lips close around your nipple and his tongue flicks back and forth rapidly across the bud, your legs try desperately to clamp themselves shut. But their hands wouldn't allow that. In fact, Frank slaps the tentacle out of the way before cupping your sex to feel just how wet you are. His approval hums through his lips, and the small vibrations of it against your sensitive flesh have you bucking into his hand.
Speaking of hands, you've been at a loss at what to do with yours this entire time. It was difficult to focus on any one thing. Your palms smooth along their biceps, or you feel your fingers clutching desperately onto their shirts and wrinkling the fabric. Every ounce of your concentration is spent processing each source of pleasure and simulation they give you.
Bucky's lips leave yours to travel lower, nipping at your collarbone. He gazes up at you with no small amount of anticipation, practically begging you to continue moaning for the two of them. Your head falls back against the couch as you gasp for air.
“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Bucky praises as he massages your thigh.
“Mm… I… it feels… fuck…” you groan, your fingers finding the back of Frank's head and holding him to your chest. Your legs are quivering as he continues pleasuring you through your panties.
“Feel even better when you've got our cocks stretching you out,” Frank adds bluntly as his breath ghosts over your nipple.
You feel like a whore when you moan at those dirty words. The idea makes you impossibly wetter, and you feel your walls clench around nothing. Bucky seems affected by it too, because now he's the impatient one trying to free himself from his pants.
You barely catch a glimpse of it before you feel his tentacles wrapping securely around you and lifting you up, settling you on his lap. Those same tentacles rip open your fishnets and tug your underwear to the side. A surprised gasp escapes you at the sound of torn netting, but you don't have time to be offended. He's hovering your slick wetness over his achingly hard cock, grinding it up against you while his free hand grips your ass and guides you back and forth.
“Oh fuck… Bucky,” you whimper. They weren't kidding about taking care of you. You didn't move a muscle as those cold tendrils held you aloft.
“Who's the impatient one, now?” Frank accuses with no small amount of annoyance. He's standing up behind you now, lifting your dress up around your hips and groping your ass. In his frustration, he gives it a hard smack, but that sting only drives you crazier and you let out a staggered keen.
“Like that, do ya?” he asks with a malicious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He gives you a few more smacks, enjoying the sounds they pull from your lips. “We talked about taking turns, but maybe what you really need is to be stuffed completely. Want us to use you like our doll, doll face?”
You can see the flicker of worry in Bucky’s eyes, thinking that maybe this was going too far, but you're practically gushing at the idea. You nod with a pleading whimper.
“Fuck, yes. Please. Ruin me,” you respond. Despite his hesitation, your words cause Bucky to twitch against you. You want so badly to guide his cock into you and start bouncing on it, but those tendrils wrap around your wrists and keep your arms in place behind your back.
Bucky's breathing grows ragged, and he gives you a warning look. “Keep saying shit like that, and you're gonna drive me crazy.”
“Why don't you shut your mouth and keep putting those tentacles of yours to good use? Stand and hold her up so we can both fuck her,” Frank commands with a snarl. You hear the clink of his belt buckle and the growl of a zipper soon follows, and even before Bucky has complied you feel a thick, hard cock pressed against your ass.
Bucky gives the other man an indignant huff, wanting nothing more than to fuck you right here on the comfort of the couch. Not to mention that using his tentacles like this was completely uncharted territory; they seemed affected by his desires and impulses, but even he doesn’t trust those all of the time.
Unfortunately for him, those sweet lips of yours pout irresistibly at him. And when it comes to you, his resolve crumbles in an instant.
“You want this?” Bucky starts, standing upright as his arm tentacles lift you higher. Your arms are above your head now, and a tentacle slithers down further until it teases at your neck. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me if you get overwhelmed,” he tells you as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His lip curls ever so slightly, almost disgusted at himself for giving in so easily. But even he couldn’t deny just how wet and ready you seemed to be. And the way your hooded eyes look at him, the way your pupils swallow your irises completely, draws a soft growl from his throat.
Your only response is to lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, tugging him closer, smirking and daring him to continue. Tentacles meet those quickly, binding your ankles together and pinning you to his body.
“Nice try, sweetheart. But we’re in control here,” he mutters as his lips brush against yours. You try to meet them properly, but he holds you in place by your chin as he pulls away. A low whine chokes from you, and he shakes his head. “You signed up for this.”
While your heated exchange continues, Frank strokes his cock behind you, readying himself with lubricant. Bucky would have the easier job of it, but that doesn’t bother him. He’s not called the Punisher for nothing. Since he doesn’t have to worry about holding you up (though, he most certainly could), he rips your panties off of your body with one hand while the other presses two slick fingers against your anus. You yelp at the sudden intrusion, completely ignoring the second aggression performed against your clothing for the night. No, you can only focus on how thick his fingers are as they press against the tense muscle. You’re breathing heavily as he eases the first digit inside.
Bucky finally releases your chin, instead taking his own length in hand and teasing it up and down your slit. He spreads your wetness over the tip, watching your face carefully as your lips part into an “o” shape. You were being teased from both sides, never fully getting what you wanted, and it leaves you a whimpering mess. Frank chuckles from behind as he inserts a second finger.
“Yes… more! Oh gods, please…” you beg as you buck against them.
“Like a bitch in heat,” he grunts while scissoring the digits inside you.
A breathy chortle of agreement drags out of Bucky’s lips. The tentacle that teased at your neck before now wraps around it fully, constricting slightly. Your eyes go wide at the sensation, but Bucky doesn’t miss the way your thighs clamp around his waist. The end of the tendril brushes tenderly at your lips like it’s trying to map them out by touch alone. The tip of Bucky’s dick finally pushes inside you, slipping through easily as he slides inch after inch into your beckoning heat. His head falls forward with a groan, his brows knitting together as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch of him. Strangled curses force their way from your throat, words of praise bubbling at your lips as your velvety walls suck him in. You already feel so full, and if they continue, then that means…
“So… tight,” Bucky manages as sweat beads on his forehead. “Dunno how she’s gonna-”
“She’ll be fine,” Frank interrupts, speaking for you as he withdraws his fingers. He grunts in amusement at the small squeak you let out. You don’t even have time to mourn the loss before the head of his cock pushes insistently against your prepared hole. “Relax, doll face. Breathe.”
Well, that’s easier said than done when you’re being gently choked by an eldritch tentacle.
Thankfully, the appendage relents, and just as you take in a deep breath of sweet, sweet oxygen, Frank shoves the entire tip into you with one push. Your breath catches in your throat. He thrusts that little bit in and out, sinking further and further each time. It rocks you against Bucky. He’s having a hard time keeping himself restrained from moving as is, and those little bounces are testing his resolve. His hand grips your waist almost painfully.
And then, without pomp or ceremony, Frank sheathes himself to the hilt. You cry out loudly, tossing your head back, but he’s done waiting. You’re lucky he took the time to stretch you out a bit in the first place, he thinks. His cock pistons in and out of your ass rapidly, his broad arm wrapping around your front to paw at your breasts as they bounce with his movements.
Bucky can feel the other man’s cock through that thin wall of skin, making you impossibly tighter. It’s an effort when he begins thrusting. Once he’s able to match Frank’s rhythm, they alternate, never leaving you empty. Your eyes roll back into your head and your jaw hangs slack as moans pour from your lips.
“Atta girl,” Frank grunts before he starts biting and sucking at your neck. He’s fucking you aggressively, possessively, wrecking you completely as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Your nails dig into the tentacles that hold you aloft, and Bucky hisses. You feel yourself being choked again in retaliation. He wasn’t expecting you to tighten around him when he did that, though.
Gods, you really were the perfect little fuck doll, weren’t you?
Bucky doesn’t know where to focus his gaze. Frank’s hand squeezes one tit while the other bounces with their thrusts. Your neck looks so beautiful with his tentacle wrapped around it. Your lips part so sweetly as you desperately gasp out your sounds of pleasure. He looks down to where your hips meet, and you’ve already ruined the front of his pants where they sit beneath his cock. Fuck. He reaches down, pressing his palm against your stomach as his thumb flicks circles on your clit.
Your mind is going blank. You don’t even form actual words anymore, simply babbling incomprehensible sounds as your mascara runs in lines down your cheeks. Pressure builds in your core, amplified by your lack of oxygen, and your thighs tremble around the Winter Soldier. Frank pauses in his thrusts, and before either of you can question why, he’s timing his thrusts with Bucky.
You feel full to bursting. Your moans are sobs now, and your body hangs limply in the tentacles’ grasp as they fuck you in tandem. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, and a tendril presses against it before snaking between your lips. In your fucked-out state, it only feels natural to suck on it.
“Sh-shit…” Bucky curses as that causes his thrusts to falter for a second. “How do you keep getting sexier?”
Frank sucks mark after mark into your skin, angling his thrusts to the side slightly so he can spank your ass with his free hand. You scream around the tentacle in your mouth. So much pressure, so much euphoria. You’re going insane, absolutely cock-drunk. It builds in you, with electrical currents zapping straight to your core with every thrust, every bite, every slap. Your walls flutter around them, and Bucky redoubles his efforts at playing with your clit. So close. So close.
They’re not faring much better than you. You’re a feast for the eyes from the front and the back, and those gargled moans and strangled cries you keep making only spur them on more. Their pace quickens, muscles straining as they fuck you into utter oblivion. Bucky’s eyes close and he grits his teeth. Frank only gets even more aggressive with his affection, nearly bruising your breasts with his squeezing and making sure your ass has a permanent sting.
“Take it, doll face. Fuck,” Frank curses. You can feel him swelling inside you with his impending release.
“Y… mmhh… yeth, oh f…fuck,” you stammer around the tentacle in your mouth.
And then Bucky angles his thrusts just a little bit to the side. You gasp with a shrill cry.
Bingo.
He hammers into that spot, never relenting on your clit. The tentacle around your neck squeezes tighter, and for a moment you wonder if you might black out. But it’s all too good, too intense, and you feel it rising, rising--
Your walls spasm around them and Bucky releases the tentacle around your throat in the same instant. A hoarse cry pours from your lips as you experience an earth-shattering orgasm, oxygen rushing to your head and your entire body convulsing in the tentacles’ hold. Wave after wave of gooey warmth washes over you. Both men watch you in awe as you let go completely, falling limp, and fuck you even faster to chase their own release. You fade in and out of consciousness as your orgasm fades, but you’re brought back to reality when Frank grunts and growls animalistically before stilling, pumping load after load into your ass. His softening cock slides out of you as he steps back and falls against the couch.
Bucky is gasping, his muscular frame glistening with sweat as he takes over, his tentacles retracting back into his metal arm as he catches you. You yelp in surprise as your arms wrap around his neck to steady yourself. His eyes bore straight into yours with an undeniable ferocity, and then he’s kissing you hungrily. Your fingers thread into his brown locks, and he continues fucking you as he holds you aloft in his arms. He groans into your lips as his hips pick up the pace and you feel yourself moaning along with him. He lets out a long, drawn out growl when he finally stiffens, thrusting a few more times as you feel his seed paint your walls. When he breaks the kiss, he’s panting, and he too falls back against the couch. He’s still holding you, and you let out a giggling yelp as you fall onto his lap.
It takes some effort to control your trembling limbs, but you manage to extract yourself, returning to your original seat between them. All three of you are a mess, panting, sweaty, and half-dressed.
When you happen to glance over to the TV, you’re surprised to see that they’re still playing Fifth Element. These commercial breaks are getting ridiculous. Frank absentmindedly looks for the remote, looking to turn down the volume, but can’t seem to find it and gives up. Probably between the couch cushions, but he’s a bit too lazy to look that hard right now.
Bucky’s arm finds its way behind you again, but this time it rests on your opposite shoulder. “So… feeling good, Y/N?”
You hum, lolling your head back and forth to look at both of them. “Mm… I think I can’t feel my legs,” you joke with a chortle.
“And… I definitely think we should do this more often.”
Description: The follow up to Golden Morphine, in which you and Adam explore the rising sexual tension between you and experiment with the arousing effects of his healing on your body.
Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, dry humping, oral sex and fingering (female receiving), Adam is a virgin
A/N: I'm so normal about him, I swear. So normal that I've written close to 6k words for him alone in the past few days. Yeah. This is basically pure filthy smut, so please enjoy!
Word Count: 2.4k
Unceremoniously, you sweep everything off of the table you’re sitting on. Adam doesn’t even get the chance to protest the fluttering papers and clattering baubles before he’s forced to brace his hands on either side of you, pulled down on top of you as your lips find his again.
Well, he supposes, that mess can always be cleaned up later.
Your shirt bunches up around your neck, pressing your bare chest to his. His lips and skin against yours feels like heaven and tastes like honey, sweet and decadent. Moaning into his mouth, you lock your ankles behind that sinfully slim waist of his and muss your fingers into his hair. You know you had tangled your hands into his hair earlier, yet it’s just as smooth and silky and perfect as the first time you touched it. You’re almost jealous.
Almost.
But it’s hard to focus on things like that when Adam finally finds himself again, balancing himself on one hand as the other comes to cup the underside of your breast. It’s all instinct, pure intuition, but he knows now that he quite enjoys the way your flesh gives beneath his hand as he gently squeezes it. And he certainly enjoys the gasp it pulls from you even while your lips meld and mash together.
It’s an accident the first time, but when his thumb just happens to swipe across the edge of your nipple, your head falls back with a soft thud. It’s like he’s constantly emanating that golden energy with every touch, so even the barest of brushes is like an electric shock through your system. Your nails dig into his scalp, drawing a husky groan from him.
“Adam… oh…”
“Yes. More. Just like that,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me. Show me how to please you.”
His face is inches away from your own. Your breaths intermingle as his hand continues to paw at your breast, desperately trying to recreate the sound you’d made moments before. Your kiss swollen lips draw up into a lazy smile as you take his hand. Squeezing, molding, you guide his movements, unable to contain your steady moans as he continues to pour that healing energy into you. He needs to do something with his lips, but he daren’t muffle the sounds coming from yours. Instead he busies himself by burying his head into the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to every inch of skin he finds. You taste divine to him, and he eagerly laps at the salt from the lingering sweat on your flesh.
Your eyes roll back and your hips roll soon after. You want to take it slow, to let him explore, but it’s so difficult to be patient when you can feel just how hard he is already. A broken, muffled moan vibrates against your neck before he eagerly begins to rut against you.
“P… Pinch my nipple between your fingers. Gently.” Even in the lust-addled haze that falls over you both, you can tell he listens to your every word intently. Between his thumb and forefinger, he finds the peak of your breast and gently, experimentally, pinches just as you told him to. Just that, coupled with his healing, is enough to draw needy whimpers from your throat.
“You feel divine,” he whispers reverently against your neck. “And sound just as heavenly. Give me more. Please.”
His praise sends only further tingling straight to your core, and you can feel the wetness beginning to pool there. Never before had you even considered the possibility of someone making you orgasm without so much as grazing your clit, but this man might just be the one to find a way.
“You,” you gasp out, the words catching in your throat as your nails rake across his skin. “It's your healing. The energy. It…” you pause as his fingers tweak the bud between them, unable to stop the moan from humming low in your chest. “It amplifies it. Everything,” you manage to breathe out finally.
“I see,” he replies simply, his nose brushing against your ear. The feeling of his breath and the low, almost gravelly tone of his voice thick with arousal, leaves you panting and trembling beneath him. He pulls back just enough to see your face, and your lips are swollen and shiny with spittle. Your eyes stare into his, half-lidded and longing, and truly he does not think he's ever seen an image so beautiful.
“Do you want more?” he whispers, his lips hovering just above yours as he leans in close.
You're not even sure you can take much more. It was already overwhelming, like a million golden fireworks exploding throughout your body with every touch. To know that he could will it to be even stronger, that everything up until now had mostly been accidental or residual…
Despite any reservations you may have, you whimper softly and nod your head in affirmation.
He wastes no time, claiming your lips again while his hand travels up from your breast to possessively cradle your head and thread his fingers into your hair. It’s all the warning you have before he's pouring that delicious golden feeling straight into your head.
Gods, you were not ready for that.
Your mind nearly goes blank as you scream into his mouth. It almost startles him, but then he feels your thighs clamped tighter around his waist. He swallows your cries as the energy ebbs and flows from his fingertips, wanting to taste more of this bliss as he begins to caress your tongue with his own. Even there, conscious of it as he is now, those healing waves dance across your lips and into your mouth. All you can do is take it, take every ounce of that delicious energy as your nails claw into his back and your ankles lock behind him. He rolls his hips into you almost frantically, groaning into the kiss as he loses himself in you.
“So beautiful…” he breathes against your lips. “Such wonderful music. Can you give me even more?” he asks, his husky whispers laced with innocent curiosity.
A chortle rumbles in your chest, and Adam swears there’s almost a glow about you when he opens his eyes to look upon your face. You rub soothing circles with your fingertips along the raised lines you’ve scored into his back, taking the moment to recover from the ridiculous euphoria you just experienced.
All the same, you crave more.
“Lower,” you whisper hoarsely. “Touch me…” You pause, placing your hand over his and guiding it to the waistband of your pants. His golden fingers look so pretty trailing down your stomach.
“Please,” you beg, and Adam thinks perhaps that might be one of your prettiest sounds yet.
Yet still, he hesitates, even as his fingers toy with the elastic of your waistband. “I… do not know how,” he admits. A flicker of doubt flashes across your eyes, and he clearly sees it since he adds, “I want to. I only fear that I will do poorly.”
Your gaze softens, and you extract your legs from his waist. He stands back up and opens his mouth to protest, but quickly shuts it as you lift your hips to shimmy your pants down your hips and kick off your boots. Left only in your underwear, you beckon him back to you, and he follows your command readily. Cupping his jaw in your hand, you smile sweetly at him.
“You’ve been a quick study so far, Adam. Let me guide you.”
He nods, dumbfounded by the situation he’s found himself in even if every action both of you have taken would clearly lead up to it. Your hand finds his and you place it over the damp patch of your panties, and his brow furrows.
“It is… warm. Wet. Why?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
That pulls another giggle from your lips, and you begin moving his hand and yours in lazy circles, sighing as you do so.
“It’s for you, Adam… have you never heard of a girl getting wet before?”
“I-I, well, no-”
“It’s desire, Adam. Every touch, every kiss, every word. You’ve turned me on so much, Adam…” you murmur seductively. “And when I’m turned on, things get wet down here.”
A stuttered breath shakes out of his chest as he continues following your guided movements. Finally he remembers why he’s doing this in the first place, and a wave of healing light pours forth from his fingers straight to your dripping cunt. You keen loudly, bucking against his hand, as white hot flames lick their way from your core out to your extremities.
If you thought it was intense before, you had no idea. And there was no way you were going to last long at this rate.
“Fuck, Adam!” you cry, covering your mouth with your free hand before biting down on your finger.
He feels how wet you are, how much wetter you get with every swipe of his fingers, and it leaves his throat feeling parched. If it meant you making these sounds, he could do this all day, he thinks. His cock is achingly hard in his pants now, and he finds himself palming it through the fabric and breathing heavily. Catching a glimpse of that only serves to heighten your arousal even further.
“M…More…” he practically groans out, his brows worrying together as those milky white eyes stare down transfixed with every circle of his fingers. He takes the initiative and slides his hands beneath your panties, his fingers meeting your soaked folds as he continues his earlier movements. The direct contact enhances the feeling tenfold, and even his inexperienced hand leaves you gasping and whimpering.
“Y-Yes, oh gods,” you babble, rocking your hips in just a way that his fingertips brush against your clit. “So good. Feels so good.”
So, when he retracts his hand from your underwear, you can’t help but whine at the loss. But then he’s bringing his fingers to his face, spreading his fingers apart and admiring the glistening, syrupy wetness that webs between them. And then they meet his lips, his tongue peeking out as he sucks and licks the digits clean, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter in your life-
-That is, until you swear those white gold eyes of his darken with newfound lust. Overtaken with his desire, he drops to his knees between your legs suddenly and tugs your panties to one side.
“Adam? What are you--oh fuck,” you moan out as his tongue paints a stripe up your labia. Your head falls back and your hand finds its place buried in his golden locks, urging him on.
He eats you out like a man starved, parched, desperate for every last bit of desire you can give him. It’s crazed, and his technique is obviously unrefined, but as soon as that golden bliss pours forth from his tongue, none of that matters. Energy flows through you, strikes through you like lightning, and your back arches as you buck your hips into his face. He doesn’t complain one bit, instead humming his approval into your sensitive flesh as his tongue and healing attack you in tandem. When his free hand squeezes into the plush of your thigh, you are bombarded by even more of that delicious feeling as it spreads through from his fingertips.
You sing for him breathlessly, your throat growing hoarse from the stream of wanton moans that echo endlessly in the room around you. His name spills from your lips followed by several curses, some of which he’s never heard you speak. That wave crests higher and higher, so high, and without meaning to you tug at those golden strands between your fingers. From the groan it elicits, he doesn’t seem to mind.
All he knows is that those beautiful sounds are growing higher and higher in pitch, more frantic with every sweep of his tongue, and he matches that pace with a fervor as he ruts into his own hand.
“A-Adam, so close, I’m so fucking close,” you breathe out desperately, even if you know he likely has no idea what that means.
But finally, finally, his tongue finds your clit, and you let out a particularly loud cry. Taking the hint, he focuses on that spot, swirling the tip around it before lapping at it greedily. The fire within you reaches a fever pitch and you absolutely explode, gushing onto his face as he drinks you up completely. It’s the most beautiful and erotic thing he’s ever witnessed, and he feels that pressure low in his belly come to a breaking point. A broken, gasping moan leaves his lips as he releases, stream after stream, cumming in his pants. His cheek falls against your thigh as he comes down from his own high, panting even as your taste lingers on his lips.
The healing energy that overwhelmed you up until now finally subsides, and a dazed smile spreads across your face. The hand that still rests on Adam’s head now pets him gently, carding your fingers delicately through his silky golden hair that you finally turned into a complete mess. He hums lazily in turn, taking a moment to catch his breath as his thumb brushes circles into your inner thigh.
“Did I do well…?” he finally asks, his voice laced with obvious fatigue.
You sit up to better look at him, tilting your head to the side as you admire the way he looks just as fucked-out as you. “I might need you to carry me back to bed. You’ve tongue-fucked my entire body into Jell-O.”
A mixture of concern and confusion pull his mouth into a frown as he looks a bit disappointed. “That… sounds terrible. I am so sorry,” he replies sheepishly.
That draws a hearty laugh from you as you shake your head. “No, Adam. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. The good ones can leave you feeling a little wobbly,” you explain before your lips settle into a wide grin. “Besides, you know, if you want…” you start, pursing your lips to one side as your gaze travels toward the ground. “...We could always practice more later. You know, if you want to learn more.”
His bright white eyes brighten impossibly further as he perks up like an excited puppy. All traces of shame that his face wore moments ago were gone in an instant. “Truly? Then, yes. Gladly.”
You sit up as best as you can before leaning over to capture his lips in a tender kiss, not caring about the lingering wetness staining his golden face. A dopey smile draws upon your lips as you press your forehead to his.
Description: When a new vanguard is assigned to assist yourself and Adam Warlock, you didn't expect it to be a symbiote. And you certainly didn't expect tensions between all of you to come to a head one night on a scouting mission. Sexual tensions, that is.
Warnings/Disclaimers: 18+, Minors DNI! 19 inches of Venom, double penetration, three(four?)some, tentacle/tendril play, tentacle bondage, nipple play, asphyxiation, biting, blood, rough (and I mean brutal) sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (f and m receiving), overstimulation, inappropriate usage of healing magic. Established situationship between Adam and Reader.
A/N: If parts of this, especially the beginning and end, sound familiar, that's because this is a Fem!Reader alternative to Blackened Gold. Not sure if I'll do GN!Reader smut from now on outside of like, blurbs/or head canons. It just feels too restrictive when I wanna get descriptive.
Word Count: 4.7k
On these strange, haphazard missions you find yourself on with unlikely allies, you weren’t expecting to fall into any sort of rhythm.
Well, perhaps one of them was to be expected. Adam Warlock worked well with you, keeping you alive during the dangerous segments with his perfectly timed healing. And you kept him safe from those who dared to attack him directly. You had been on several missions together by now that it was easy to fall into step alongside each other. Not to mention your… out of work activities. Needless to say, your closeness had not gone unnoticed.
But recently, the two of you had found yourselves a new protector.
A lethal one.
It started on a particularly risky mission. You were up against incredibly competent and incredibly dangerous enemies. Even Adam, try as he might, was struggling to keep up healing you. You both ducked behind a crumbling concrete wall, wincing when it shook with the vibrations of their attacks. Things looked grim, and for a moment, you thought all was lost. Your mouth was filled with the metallic tang of blood, and it was getting harder to stand… regardless, you made sure to stay in front of Adam. If anyone needed to stay in the fight, it’s him. The team could do without you.
Then a flash of black streaked across your vision. You scrambled to peek around the corner. That flash turned into a… splash? Tentacles sprayed forth from the pavement that cracked from the force of the impact, but soon they came together to form a vaguely humanoid being. It was huge, with broad shoulders and defined muscles that seemed to absorb any attacks coming its way. When its head turned to face the two of you, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the impossibly wide grin of razor sharp teeth.
“Good,” a gravelly, alien voice rumbled forth. “It seems we arrived just in time.”
Tentacles spewed forth and speared your enemies as the alien savior chortled at their feeble attempts to hurt it. It was terrifying to watch, and after hearing their screams you almost felt bad for those on the receiving end of those piercing appendages… yet at the same time, there was something irrefutably attractive about how effortless it was. Adam was quick to take advantage of the opportunity to finally heal you properly, but you simply watched in awe.
The mission didn’t take much longer after that. After your recovery, you and Adam made quick work of the remaining stragglers.
You learned after the battle that the identity of your savior was Venom, or rather, a symbiote named Venom that had bonded with the human named Eddie Brock. It towered over both of you even as it crouched down, giving you both that unsettling grin while its white eye markings took in every detail. Adam was stitching the last of your injuries together with his powers, but he kept a wary eye on the new third member to your little party.
“This one…” its grumbly growl echoes as its finger pokes between your breasts, “pleases us.”
You could see Adam stiffen a bit. To say that he’d become protective of you over the last few months was an understatement. White gold eyes narrow at the shiny black digit that lingers against your body, and his lip curls in visible disgust as he watches the way those tendrils seem to writhe and pulse constantly beneath Venom’s skin. But before he could jump to your defense and play the chivalrous knight he so loved to be, you made sure to speak first.
“Is that why you saved us? Because I please you?” you accuse with a pointed stare.
It’s impossible to read the expression on Venom’s face or tell where its eyes linger, but it does cock its head to the side.
“Preposterous. It is our duty. We protect our team.”
Your brow furrows, but it states it so matter-of-factly that you can’t argue it. Though you can’t help but notice the way tiny tendrils seem to peek out curiously from its finger, spreading a few inches across your chest as they feel their way about. You’re about to swat its hand away, but it seems to notice your discomfort and pulls away, resting the offending appendage on its thigh.
Adam sighs as he withdraws his healing energies, a reaffirming hand on the small of your back as he helps you stand up properly. “So you are the new vanguard assigned to us. Tell me then why I sense the stain of Knull’s essence in your being?” His voice isn’t as hostile as you might have expected. There’s a cautiousness in his tone and in his movements, to be sure, but it’s clear that his curiosity has been piqued.
“Knull is just as much our enemy as he is yours, golden one,” it growls, squinting those wide, white alien eyes at your comrade. “We do not recognize his authority even if he is our creator.”
Adam’s lips press into a thin line. He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. “While I find it difficult to trust you easily, there is wisdom in your words. Wisdom I can personally relate to.” He nods, and the possessive grip he has on your back relaxes slightly. “Welcome to the team, Venom.”
The three (four?) of you fell into quite the, ahem, symbiotic relationship over the next few weeks. You worked quite well together: without the focus of the enemy’s fire, you were an unstoppable force, and Adam found it much easier to heal a target that mitigates much of the damage it takes in the first place. It also helps that the two had found common ground in something, even if it occasionally put them at odds.
They were both obsessed with you.
Protecting you, healing you, taking care of you, killing for you. You’d begun to notice the energy shift and just how acutely aware they both were of your wellbeing at all times. There were also the extra glancing touches, lingering glances. You were used to those from Adam before, but those had been ignited into a fury once Venom had begun them as well. At first it was unsettling, but you’d grown accustomed to the way its tendrils caressed and wrapped around your curves in passing. If it carried you to Adam for healing, you could feel the way stray tentacles explored, dipping and slithering about. Never where they shouldn’t, but the intention was still quite clear. And that healing energy, the kind that makes your knees buckle? Yeah, Adam had returned to applying that in full force.
It all came to a head when you were all turning in for the night during a scouting mission. You had some down time while waiting for the target to make a move, so you made camp in an abandoned convenience store in one of the more wrecked parts of the city. Lighting a fire could potentially draw too much attention, and seeing as you were really the only one to suffer from any sort of cold, it fell to Adam and Venom to keep you warm. As you all lie down on a makeshift bed of emergency blankets with bags of stale cereal for pillows, Venom is the first to make its move.
They bickered a little less nowadays, at least, so all Adam gives Venom is a slightly disappointed glance when those symbiotic tendrils curl around your body. Despite its intentions, they’re cold and slimy, and you shiver at the initial feeling. It responds by liquifying itself even further, enveloping your limbs and waist in a cold black that slowly responds to and encases your body heat. His instincts tell him to stop this, to save you from that inky embrace, but something stays his hand. Instead, Adam rolls onto his side, propping his head up as he watches the two of you.
“Is that… comfortable?” he asks with genuine curiosity as he watches the slick ooze form to your body’s shape. It stirs something in him, but he’s not ready to admit that yet.
The shuddering subsides as your body acclimates to its symbiotic cocoon. “It’s… warm now, at least. It’s not uncomfortable,” you respond. But, as a living entity, it seems the symbiote can’t quite stay still, pulsing and writhing against you. It seeps under your clothes, seeking out your body heat to better maintain it, and you squirm slightly. Body heat doesn’t seem to be something you’ll be struggling with for long, as your face begins to flush with the way those tendrils caress you almost lovingly.
Adam could have sworn he saw Venom smiling knowingly, but it could be so difficult to read its expression. Once he hears your staggered breaths, however, his eyes narrow even if he doesn’t make an immediate move. “What are you doing to her?”
“Keeping this one warm,” it responds with a guttural groan. You feel something stir against your backside, and it causes you to gasp. “We know of a good way to do this.”
The golden man’s throat goes dry as he watches. Your body squirms, yes, but it doesn’t look as though you’re trying to break free. And he of all people recognizes the flush on your face and that needy warmth that radiates from your soul.
You were enjoying this, even if you yourself hadn’t recognized it yet.
And then that long, pink tongue is snaking around your neck and teasing at your parted lips.
“V-Venom--?” you gasp.
“This one feels good on us. We would please you further, if you allow us…” it whispers, that normally grating voice taking on a low and almost seductive quality. “We have thought of this a long time.”
Those tendrils are dipping into your hero suit, teasing along your hip bone or touching just out of reach of your hardening nipples. It’s hard to breathe, not from the tongue that curls about your neck, but from the arousal that builds in your core. You ache with a primal need, you ache for more, so much so that you almost forget that Venom is waiting patiently for your permission. How quaint for a being that’s clearly fine with fondling you already.
“A…And Adam?” you finally eke out, and you see his cheeks turn a deep copper at your offer of inclusion.
“The… blindingly golden one may join. We do not care. We only wish to feel you and keep you warm. Hot.” A tendril finally snakes around your nipple, flicking over the bud beneath your clothes, and you breathe out a soft moan. “Quivering.”
For now, it’s all Adam can do to watch as Venom toys with your body, snaking between your legs and lifting one up as it begins exploring your thighs. Venom parts its symbiotic casing of you, and he can see just how wet you are already as it soaks through your clothes. Even that is done away with quickly as its appendages work in tandem to strip you, leaving you bare and naked before them both. A tendril slips down, sliding back and forth along your slit and coating itself in your wetness. It growls in satisfaction at the gasping breaths spilling from your lips.
“Y/N…” Adam groans. You meet his gaze, and you can see the struggle in his eyes.
The chill of night is all but forgotten as you moan feverishly at Venom’s ministrations, and Adam is finally spurred to action as he swallows those sounds with his lips on yours. This feels wrong, like he’s aiding in your defilement by allowing this symbiote to have its way with you, but then he feels your hand cupping him through his pants and palming at his hardening length.
“Y/N,” he gasps out, breaking the kiss as you stroke him back and forth. Your movements are much less sure than they usually are, distracted by the way more of Venom’s tendrils travel lower, lower…
They tease at your ass, slathering your skin in black slick as they poke and prod. It draws a staggered cry from your lips. Adam watches you in awe, twitches in your hand even as it falters, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you hungrily. Desire wins out over duty in his mind as he bucks into your touch.
“This one is responsive. We knew this would be enjoyable,” Venom growls before that tongue begins gently squeezing, restricting the air from your lungs ever so slightly. You see stars in your vision as the asphyxiation only turns you on further. “Yes, this one would take us both quite well.”
Venom’s tentacles spread your legs further as smaller ones thread their way into your anus, fucking in and out while your mind goes blank. Adam’s lips continue to devour yours, and it isn’t long before his tongue spears into your mouth, demanding even more. You’re desperately tugging at Adam’s pants with the hand that isn’t wrapped around his cock, and more symbiotic tendrils aid in your efforts to divest your mutual partner of the offending fabric. Adam kicks it off readily as Venom tosses it to the side. When that golden length springs free, you stroke at it with a renewed vigor and, much to your surprise, your hand is joined by a slimy black tentacle wrapping around the base.
“A-ah, that is-” Adam stammers, but his words are cut off by a broken moan as you and Venom work in tandem. That slick quickens and smooths your movements, acting like lubrication that leaves your golden god gasping for breath even as he kisses you again.
All the while, Venom continues adding more and more to your spreading hole, thicker tendrils fucking into you relentlessly. You can feel its cock resting against your ass and silently thank whatever powers are listening that this symbiote was kind enough to prepare you before spearing you with that.
As if it’s reading your mind somehow, you feel more than hear Venom’s growling chortle behind you. “This one still isn’t ready for all of us.”
You’re perfectly aware of that, and even still you feel a growing fire building in the pit of your belly. Tentacles squeeze and tug at your nipples while others dance along your folds, and one wriggles back and forth over your clit. A few even whip experimentally at your ass, and you choke out a moan despite the tongue that keeps a tight hold around your throat.
“Golden one. What is it that you normally do to this one to make them cry so deliciously?” Venom asks Adam, snapping the man out of his own building orgasm as he focuses his attention back on you.
“I-I,” he stutters, deciding actions would speak louder than words when said words fail him. The hands that cradle your head begin to travel, but one of them stays and presses two fingers against your parted lips. You stare at Adam with pleading eyes and pupils blackened with lust, eagerly opening your mouth further to allow him access. He slowly fucks your mouth with those digits as your tongue laves them with attention. He groans at the feeling, nearly forgetting his original intent.
And then the energy flows forth.
You practically go cross-eyed as those streams of golden energy spread through your body, caressing your tongue and filling your mind with pleasure. At that very moment, Venom’s tongue withdraws from your neck, allowing you to scream out as all of the sensations overwhelm you at once. Those tendrils filling you so deliciously almost seem thicker now, and you can feel the way they stretch your walls. Adam’s healing quite literally mind-fucks you, and the vein on his cock pulses as you continue stroking it. Your exposed neck doesn’t need to wait for long as sharp teeth sink into it. It’s a white-hot, searing pain, and you feel the warmth of blood trickling down your shoulder, but paired with the constant flow of Adam’s power, it’s replaced with pleasure as quickly as it hurts. You can feel the skin knitting itself together as Venom withdraws its teeth.
You’re so close. You can feel it pooling low in your stomach and they can sense it. Adam’s mouth waters as he continues thrusting his fingers into yours, mimicking the pace at which Venom spears you. Your fingers and Venom’s tendril wrap around him so perfectly. But it’s not enough.
“Need… Need to be inside you,” Adam finally speaks, and how can you deny such a request when those hooded milky eyes stare at you with such unrestrained desire?
Venom withdraws its tentacles from you just as Adam removes his fingers, and you whine at the sudden loss of stimulation. You were so close, and they were so mean for that.
Those are your thoughts, at least, until you feel Venom manhandling you so that you’re lying on top of it with your back on its chest. Its tendrils still slither and slide around your body, but you notice now that none of them seek to enter you. No. There was something altogether larger prodding at you now.
Sweat drips down your back as you begin to tense up. Venom’s tongue laps at the salty sweet of you as it positions itself, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel the head of its cock slip inside with an audible pop.
And gods, that was just the head.
Breathing just got a lot harder. You're practically gasping, and you only barely notice when Adam kneels in between your parted legs. Inch by inch, Venom fills you from behind, stretching you for what feels like an eternity. It’s hard to focus on anything else when Venom is set upon rearranging your insides. Tentacles wrap around your breasts, squishing and tugging, and your head lolls back against Venom’s shoulder.
Slowly, it thrusts. A choked, almost pained cry gurgles from your throat as you’re stretched impossibly wide. With every piston it goes deeper, deeper, and Adam can only watch in awe while he reaches forward to massage your inner thighs. Trickles of healing from his fingertips leave delicate golden trails as they seep into your skin, soothing the stretch and helping you relax. Truly, he worries the two of them might break you as he watches the bulge forming in your stomach.
Your hands find Adam’s wrists and hold on for dear life, but such touches are short lived when Venom’s tentacles wrap around your arms and trap them above your head. Though, you can’t protest when it thrusts into you especially hard, bottoming out the last few inches in one fell swoop. In fact, you can’t say much of anything with the soundless scream that leaves your mouth agape. Your eyes roll back into your head as nothing more than vowel sounds break in your throat.
“The golden one hesitates… does she not please you…?” Venom asks as it makes a show of sensually sliding tendrils over your breasts, in the creases of your thighs, and wrapping about your legs before spreading them wide. It displays you like some sort of sick pin-up. “Do we not please you?” it asks again, and you lift your head to watch as those inky black tentacles slither over to Adam and wrap behind him. He yelps when he feels them tease at his entrance, falling forward onto his hands and nearly smashing his face into your heaving chest.
It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced with you, but when those tentacles wrap around his cock at the same time, he’s bringing a hand to his mouth and biting down on his finger. His brow furrows and he whimpers at these sensations, and you feel your cunt drool when his golden length bobs at Venom’s ministrations.
Though it’s difficult for him to form thoughts, let alone words, Adam does his best. Your golden god looks so tantalizing like this, his face hovering just above yours as sweat beads upon his brow and high pitched moans whisper breathily from his throat.
“N-No… you both please me… hah… greatly,” he manages to speak, even as his body moves back and forth with the tentacles thrusting in and out of him. “I simply have never…”
“The golden one should fuck the pretty one. It will feel even better,” Venom growls before extending its tongue to dance and wriggle about your neck and chest. You moan in agreement with his words, struggling to make any other noises as your ass is filled with that slick black rod. Even if it feels like a suicide mission, you weren’t walking away from this until you had both of their cocks stretching you to capacity.
That is, of course, if you’re able to walk at all after this.
Venom offers you to him on an obsidian platter, and it’s getting harder and harder to refuse. You look so pretty with your hands and legs bound and spread, and it’s getting harder to think when those tentacles thrust just like that… and when he meets your gaze, he can see, no, he can sense the silent plea bursting from your soul. So he kneels before you, ready to line himself up with your entrance. Venom, ever the polite one, uses a couple tendrils to spread your glistening folds. It feels like a vice even as he barely enters you. He can feel the massive girth of Venom through the thin wall of skin separating them, making you tighter than anything he’s ever felt before. It nearly takes his breath away. And the way you squirm between them, helpless to do anything but accept every inch they give you… it’s a miracle he doesn’t cum on the spot.
You, on the other hand? Nothing could have prepared you for this fullness, for the way it steals the very air from your lungs. You’re gasping as Adam slowly slips into you, the breathy sounds accompanied with the tiniest of whines and whimpers. They both still inside you, and Adam braces himself with his hands on your waist as he at least has the forethought to pour that healing energy into your soon-to-be-battered womb. Whatever sting that still lingered from the stretch dissipates, and you heave a sigh of relief.
That relief is short-lived, however, once Venom decides to start thrusting in earnest. Adam takes it as his cue to begin as well, and the two of them alternate as they fuck you utterly and completely. Adam’s healing falters when the tentacles thrusting into him drive ever deeper, and you cry out in a mixture of pleasured pain.
“It is good you are here, golden one. We would likely destroy this one’s organs if you were not healing her,” Venom’s gurgled speech states through grunting thrusts.
You’re going to be completely ruined after this.
“Oh… Y/N,” Adam moans as he starts fucking you faster, his eyes shut fast as he focuses on the sensation of you, wrapped so perfectly and tightly around him, and your symbiotic partner, stroking deep into his rectum and sliding against his prostate. “V…Venom…”
You’ve been reduced to nothing but a cock drunk, babbling mess as they continue spearing in and out of you. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you sob out broken moans, curling your toes as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching.
“F…hah… uh… fuck,” you stammer, your body going limp in Venom’s hold as they take their pleasures from you.
Adam’s fingers find your clit and rapidly circle the bud just as you’d shown him to, except this time he’s pouring that golden energy into your bundle of nerves. A scream draws hoarsely from your lips as your hips buck wildly.
“This one is close. She wraps around us deliciously,” Venom states as its hips clap against your ass. It grips your hips tightly, almost painfully so, hammering in and out of your stretched and abused hole as you take every inch it has to give you.
“Y… Yes… it pulsates off of her… I…” But it’s all Adam can muster to make sure you stay healed, that you survive this brutal copulating, and he struggles to form a full sentence. The strange yet pleasurable cycle of your insides bruising and tearing only to be immediately healed with golden aphrodisiac overstimulates you until your head spins. It’s hard for him to focus when he feels a strong, deep pressure building. With how tight of a fit you are, you can feel the way his cock swells slightly with his impending release. It makes the bulbous head drag along your walls in just the perfect way with every thrust, and with the way he utterly abuses your clit with his healing…
“Mm… ‘M close… don’t… ah! Don’t stop,” you beg, your words a blubbering mess as tears stream down your face.
Adam’s free hand comes to cup your cheek, and you’re almost taken aback by the soft and tender gesture before he’s injecting golden morphine straight into your mind again. You scream and keen, arching your back as they thrust into you furiously. It’s all Adam can do to keep up with both pleasuring you and actually healing you. But then that taut cord snaps, and you’re exploding, white behind your eyes as crackling lightning meets golden threads and explodes into thousands of fireworks.
You’re given no quarter, no chance to recover, as they synchronize their movements, thrusting in and out at the same time. Your face is a mess of tears and drool, your jaw slack as you sob. Your body screams at you to get off, to get away from the sensations that threaten to overwhelm you completely, but Venom holds you fast. The torturous pleasure rewards you with a second orgasm far too quickly and you find yourself squirting onto Adam’s abdomen while your body writhes and convulses between them.
“Oh, gods, yes, Y/N! Yes, Venom, yes!” Adam moans his praises before he pumps into you with a long, drawn out groan, filling your womb with his seed. Venom growls its approval before letting out a roar, stilling inside you and streaming ribbon after ribbon of ichorous cum into your ass. It’s all you can do to stay conscious, let alone breathe, and your body twitches with the aftershocks of your orgasm and their brutal treatment.
Adam’s hand remains on your face and, being the first to recover slightly, now brushes a soothing and tender thumb over your cheek. The healing energy flows forth more quietly now, merely traveling forth to mend any lingering pains as the two of them begin to soften inside of you.
“Y/N… are you okay?” he asks softly, propping himself up so as not to burden you with his body weight.
Your voice is hoarse, but at least the pain of it fades as Adam works. Yet still, all you can manage is a dazed expression, a nod, and a hum of “Mhmm…”
As you all take a moment to collect yourselves and catch your breath, you hear vehicles in the distance and the shouts of several henchmen. Thankfully, they seem to be heading away from you this time. You’re not sure you could take on any bad guys right now.
Oh. Of course they were running away.
Sobered up from your orgasmic bliss, you let out a long, frustrated groan.
“So much for not giving away our location…” you mumble ashamedly.
A hum akin to a laugh rumbles in Venom’s chest. “It is no surprise with the sounds being made. This one is quite vocal.”
You groan again, hiding your face behind your hands. Adam finds himself chuckling too, even if this little debacle has put a handicap on your mission. “I am sure we will pick up on their trail come morning. But perhaps, for now, we all should get some rest?” he offers as he gathers his and your clothes and folds them into a neat pile.
Venom murmurs its agreement before it begins to envelop both of you in that symbiotic cocoon, surprising Adam as he finds himself pressed so intimately against you and Venom. But after that session, it’s hard to protest anything, and it isn’t long before you both fall soundly asleep in the embrace of your diligent vanguard.
