(Male) marvel rivals characters and their favorite ways to fuck you
Authors note: I’ll probably do a girl version soon, playing this game makes me so horny
nsfw 18+, fem reader, overstim, spanking, creampie
Adam Warlock:
He loves the look of you on your back, pretty doe eyes blinking up at him as he rocks into you at an even pace, legs locked behind him. He always insists on stripping you naked, wanting no scrap of clothing to cover your body from his gaze. And of course, this extends to him as his golden skin shimmers with sweat above you. His hand usually finds a home entangled with yours, his other arm braced on the mattress, allowing you to squeeze and feel his comforting grip. The words that tumble from his mouth as your pussy grips his cock like a vice are always sickly sweet like honey, praising the way you look squirming under him, the way your features contort with pleasure, the way your eyes look hazy with tears as he keeps going after you cum. “Those sweet eyes on me are the most powerful aphrodisiac in the universe” he’d say, honesty pouring from his tone, not even realising how flustered his words make you as tears begin to roll down your cheeks at his unstoppable movements. Because he doesn’t stop, he can’t. He has to see you experiencing the heights of pleasure, being brought to ecstasy again and again otherwise he’ll feel like he failed. It’s only after your crying out following your 4th orgasm that his hips snap inside you once, twice, before stilling and filling you up.
Doctor Strange:
He loves taking you against things, finds the almost taboo nature of being too desperate to wait oh so tantalising. He’s enjoyed fucking you against one of the bookshelves in the sanctum sanctorum, feeling the wood rattle and books fall to the floor as he snaps his hips against your ass. There have also been many times where he’s had you against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist to keep your cunt squeezing him. But best of all is when he takes you over his desk. He goes feral every time, usually due in part to you teasing him, sat there all pretty, using your foot to nudge against his bulge. Theres nothing better than putting a bratty girl like you in her place, pushing you down and making your ass stick up for him. Always spanks you a couple of times to hear you whine, telling you “how much of a bad girl have you been to drive me to take you in such a manner? Have you no shame?” before pushing his thick cock inside of you, shushing your desperate gasps. The feral nature of fucking his girl against his desk, the slight thrill of someone walking in and realising have him almost cumming too soon, having to slow down and grab the meat of your hips to calm himself down.
Gambit:
Oh he wants you on your back, but with your ankles pinned behind your ears. He’s always charming you into bed with his words, his light touches, his empty promises of “Gambit just wanna hold his woman, ain’t nothing bad ‘bout that?”. Usually it isn’t long before he’s bullying his fat cock into your pussy, remarking how easy it is to get you gushing around him. Pushing your legs up allows him to get deeper inside you, feeling every little bit of your cunt gripping him like a vice. The expression on your face riles him up, the look of pure ecstasy as he fills you so completely, but it’s the fact that all of you is for his eyes only. His fingers dance everywhere they can, groping your tits, feeling the squish of your thighs, hell even massaging the soles of your feet. Every part of you turns him on beyond belief. So the fact he can see it all laid bare as he snaps his dick into you over and over has him frantically strumming your clit to ensure he doesn’t leave his lady unsatisfied before he pumps her full of his cum. And that he does, a man like him usually isn’t satiated by just one round. Depending on how hyped up he’s been, how much tension needs to be released, he can usually be up for another round. And he loves not pulling out. The sounds of your cries mixed with the slick sounds of his dick fucking the wetness between your legs, watching his cum leak around the edges and form a ring around the base of his cock. He swears he sees god every time.
Human Torch:
He’s an ass man, through and through. So obviously doggy style appeals to him the most. Loves it when he’s standing, seeing that arch of your back as you drape yourself over the mattress, ass up and ready for the taking. Always takes the time to properly squeeze and grope each cheek, spreading them to get a good look at your empty cunt until you can’t help but beg him to put it inside. And he does, but only after a few slaps of his palm against them, moaning like he’s the one being struck. The recoil of your ass each time he thrusts into you is pure heaven, and if you’re willing he definitely records it on his phone, making sure to get each plap plap as the camera zooms into the sticky mess you’re making his cock. But when he’s gonna cum, he loves to paint your ass white, especially if his earlier ministrations mean the skin is red. His mouth is on overdrive as he jerks himself off, telling you how gorgeous your ass is, how he’s so lucky to have got a girl like you, how “god you could make a fortune from sellin’ some videos babe” before he’s cumming ropes all over. Will probably spread it all around your cheeks when he’s done, before rushing and nearly stumbling over his shaking legs to grab a towel.
Iron Fist:
Up against the wall is always one he goes back to in his mind when you’re both apart. He loves demonstrating his strength to you, relishing in the excited gasp and giggles you let out when he picks you up, muscles flexing, before pushing you snug against the nearest wall. Grinning as your legs lock behind him, as he guides his dick inside of you with a groan, cockiness slightly leaving his body as he feels your familiar walls around him. He always stutters out a laugh at your concern as you tell him he can put you down if he’s getting tired, mumbling a “you’re like a feather baby, don’t you worry about me.” Alternatively he does love pressing you against a wall, tits smushed as he pulls your ass towards him. Something about the feral nature of taking you like an animal, the desperation meaning you couldn’t wait. He loves it, slamming into you over and over again, arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still. Even better if your legs partially give way, allowing him to keep you upright as he continues to thrust away. And if you offer to get on your knees when he’s close? You swear you can see actual hearts in his eyes.
Loki:
Riding always gets him going. A god deserves to be worshipped, no? He loves to lay back, comfortable among the asgardian silks as his cock rests against his stomach. It gets to a point where he doesn’t even need to ask anymore, a simple raise of his eyebrow and nod of his head has you knowing what he wants. Letting you straddle him, watching as you position his dick beneath you and slowly sinking down, it does things to him he’d rather not admit. But he will tell you how much he loves the performance, how stunning of a pet you are as you use your body for his pleasure, how “you’re doing such a good job for your king my darling, keep it up and you may just earn a reward”. He doesn’t remain detached the whole time, as he loves feeling your hips and waist, reaching up and up to playfully pinch your nipples to hear the gasp it elicits. In times where he needs the release, it’s not uncommon for him to grip your hips hard before fucking up into you, revelling in your surprised cries and moans as you can only grasp his biceps for dear life. Other times he’s content to let you set the pace, loving the way you draw your own pleasure from your movements. But of course he’ll use a thumb on your clit to bring you to completion, after all, what kind of king would he be if he didn’t care about his subjects?
Mister Fantastic:
Another who loves riding, but more specifically in a chair. It’s no secret that he spends much of his time in the lab, and he loves how understanding you are. His mind is a brilliant tool to help humanity, but even geniuses need breaks. That’s where you come in, massaging his shoulders and telling him that just a few moments away from a problem could do wonders. He knows every time what you’re doing, but your eagerness to help him has his dick hard before you’ve even undone his belt. When you get to bouncing on it, he adores the different sensations; the squeaking of the chair, the noise of your ass slapping against his thighs, the mixture of your moans together in the air, it all just paints a beautifully lewd painting within him. The risk of doing it in the lab also thrills him more than he believes it should, the thought of someone coming in and seeing his girl taking care of him like this makes his cock throb almost painfully inside of you. He grabs at your hips so hard it’s almost harsh, gritting out “you look so beautiful my dear, what an honor it is to have you all to myself”. And when he cums inside you, he often has a devilish smile as he gets his own back on your teasing, stretching his dick to make sure not a drop of his cum can leak out of your pussy.
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.
