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#marvel kinktober
writing-for-marvel · 7 months
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Day 1: Mile High Club
Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋
Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi
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Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.
Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.
“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.
“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.
A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.
“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.
A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.
“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.
Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.
“To be left alone with my wife.”
The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.
He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.
“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.
You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.
“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.
It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.
“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.
“What are we still doing here then?”
Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.
You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.
“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.
“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.
“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.
“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.
Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.
“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”
Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.
You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.
You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.
It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.
You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.
Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.
“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.
You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.
“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.
The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.
“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.
“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”
Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.
You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.
You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.
His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.
“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”
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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot
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Kinktober 2022 Masterlist.
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Day 1: Praise Kink with Regulus Black
Day 2: Thigh Riding with Steve Harrington
Day 4: Spanking with Kit Walker
Day 7: Breeding with Billy Hargrove
Day 8: Choking with Spencer Reid
Day 9: Face Riding with Sirius Black
Day 11: Degradation with Peter Ballard
Day 12: Eating Out with Kit Walker
Day 16: Size Kink with Remus Lupin
A/n: these are my kinktober blurbs from 2022 but I thought I’d make a little Masterlist to help everyone find them. Some have gone missing unfortunately so there are days skipped in here.
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jaehyunsbreadbasket · 2 years
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Kinktober '22 Day 25: Bucky Barnes
Prompt: Mirror Sex
Word Count: 601
Synopsis: Bucky's gonna finger you, and you're gonna watch.
Consists of: Dom!Bucky, AFAB Sub!Reader, Mirror sex, Fingering, Dumbification, Breast play, Mention of Buck's mental hand rusting, Brief temperature play, Implied oral (reader receiving) at the end
"Look at you, Baby," Bucky lifts your chin up, "So fucking gorgeous. And look at that little pussy, all pink and puffy. I can barely move my fingers, Darling, you're so fucking tight."
"B-Buck-" You start, even though you're so spent it's doubtable you could even make a full sentence in the first place.
"Shh, Sweetheart. It's okay, you don't have to say anything, just watch. I bet it'd take forever if we waited for you to rack up words in that dumb little head of yours, anyway, Honey. So fucking stupid for me," Bucky moves his warm hand up your body, finding your breasts and giving your nipples little pinches. His cool one was still slamming in and out of you, so wet that it might just rust.
It feels so good, two contrasting temperatures on your body all at once; it's a sensation no one but Bucky could give you. Watching him watching you in your reflection is just the cherry on top. He's so out of breath, so desperate looking, as if he was the one with fingers inside of him. I doubt anyone derives as much pleasure from pleasing others as he does. Bucky notices you watching and gives you a little wink before curling his fingers inside of you. You're head lolls back against his chest as your back arches, Bucky lets out a deep chuckle at the sight.
He continues curling, "You're close, aren't you Doll? Cum for me Baby...please," He pauses before adding the "please" as if he had forgot his manners, as if there was proper etiquette for asking for an orgasm, "Come on, Honey, do it. Do it for me."
He uses his metal thumb to rub harsh circles on your clit, and suddenly you're more aware of the wet sounds your cunt is producing. It's so dirty, so fucking nasty, and just what you need to fall over the edge.
"Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!" You grip onto his arm for dear life as you begin to shake.
"Keep your eyes open," Bucky roughly grabs your chin with his flesh hand, "Look at yourself. Watch as you fall apart on my hand," You struggle to stay in the moment as you spasm around, Bucky not letting you tear our eyes away for a single second. Bucky places bites on your neck as he speeds up his hand, and before you know it, you're cumming. Covering his metal with your cream, cream that he'll undoubtedly make you taste afterwards, either from his hand or from his tongue.
"Good job! So good for me, so pretty," Bucky immediately praises you, while his mouth continues to rest on your neck. He kisses it gently now in an attempt to soothe you.
"So messy," You mumble as you see in the mirror how sticky the situation is.
"Yeah, Baby," Bucky speaks inside his laugh, "That pussy made such a mess. But don't you worry about it okay? I'm gonna clean it all up, I promise," Bucky pulls his fingers out of you and sucks them clean, humming in satisfaction as he does so. He then grabs your body, lifting you like you’re weightless, like you really are nothing but a little ragdoll, and sits you up higher on the bed, finding a resting place for himself in-between your legs. Bucky smells your cunt, "I want you to watch your face okay," he points back at the mirror as if you'd have no idea what he was referring too otherwise, "See how good I am at cleaning up your messes," your pussy throbs and Bucky dives in.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Prompt from: @kinktober2022
My Kinktober 2022 Masterlist 🎃
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talesofadragon · 6 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐯𝐞����𝐮𝐞
Synopsis: Steve Rogers was looking forward to Halloween. Not because of the costumes, the tricking and the treating, or Tony’s meticulous party planning—he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his Y/N. But a cozy night in with pumpkin spice lattes and that Halloween Town movie he needed to catch up on was soon abandoned when the mysterious house on Easton Avenue called for his attention.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Civilian!Reader
Genre: SMUT | Fluff | Some scary stuff
Warnings: Unprotected sex, P in the V, oral sex, temperature play, sex toys, kegel balls, blindfolds, bondage, pussy slapping, object insertion, deepthroating, shoe humping, degradation, dacryphilia, sex tapes, mirror sex, breast fucking, orgasm denial, edging, squirting, overstimulation, should I go on? It’s shameful sex, basically.
Word Count: 12K
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, FOLKS! This is my very first time doing a kinktober special, but I really wanted to submit an entry to @jtargaryen18's Halloween Special! So, I hope you all like this. And forgive me, because I just finished it, and didn't triple-check for typos. Enjoy 🧡🎃
All Masterlists | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 of red surged from within the fifth house on Easton Avenue, sending a chaotic ripple across the entire neighborhood. At least, that’s how you pictured it in your head. That house had a vicious and ominous aura, topped with a polarizing effect that both dared you to come closer and urged you to stay away. 
Something about that house wasn’t right ever since its residents claimed it a week ago. It had been a solid year since you moved to Brooklyn to live with Steve, and as far as you knew, that old and frail house had been vacant for the better half of seven years. Yet now, all so suddenly, someone decided it was the most miraculous idea in the world to step through the broken fence and make do with whatever crumbs the beaten structure had to offer—with little regard or effort at fixing it. 
“What in the name of God are you doing?” 
Lost in the abstract aura of your neighbor’s house, Steve had crept up on you, and you were none the wiser. You whipped your head to the back, hands firmly clutching the binoculars. It was not a sound decision on your behalf because Steve’s majestic blue-green eyes were now tenfold bigger, almost as if they were about to devour you whole.
You shrieked, fingers still gripping the binoculars for reasons unknown. Your startled expression made Steve stiffen and look around.
“Why are you screaming?” he asked, taking the binoculars away from your face. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when he caught the letter “A” engraved on the side. “Did you take these from my mission bag, Y/N?” 
You sheepishly gazed up at him, giving him your best pout. Steve didn’t particularly mind if you rummaged through his things, but the reason you lived on Easton Avenue and not at the Avengers Compound was that he tried to keep you away from his “alter ego,” as you liked to call it. So, snooping through his mission bag might have contradicted the boundaries you had previously set.
“I was birdwatching,” you blurted out without a second thought. 
Steve regarded you skeptically. “Birdwatching,” he repeated, his tone heavy with doubt. 
“Yes. This time of the year brings very colorful birds.” 
He didn’t respond, only subtly arching an eyebrow. Placing the binoculars on the nearby couch, his slender and long fingers pushed the curtain aside—enough for him to peek out the window. And because Steven Grant Rogers was God’s perfect human creation, he didn’t need even a monocle to catch sight of the fifth townhouse down your street. 
“Yeah, you’re right. That ashen plumage does splendidly reflect the beauty of this season.” 
“At least you are a gentleman enough to feign belief,” you remarked, indignantly rolling your eyes. 
Knowing what was going to follow, you picked up the binoculars and headed to your shared bedroom. But Steve was right behind you with the same retort he used when he caught you so much as thinking about that house. “Dove, you need to stop investing so much energy into that house. There’s nothing wrong about it.”
“Everything is wrong about it, Steve!” you defended, picking up his bag from the closet and putting the binoculars back. “It’s creepy and morbid, and I can’t believe anyone would willingly choose to settle in it.” 
“It’s a nice house. I’m sure, with some attention, anyone would want to settle in it.” 
“Well, that’s the thing! Why aren’t the new owners doing anything about it? It’s sitting there like the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. The only missing part is the werewolf.” 
Steve looked somewhat perplexed and unconvinced. His lips parted then closed until he was ready to speak again. “Werewolves don’t exist.” Of course, he’d focus on that part. “And, maybe the owners haven’t had the chance to refurbish the house yet.” 
“That’s a great suggestion, Stevie! Why don’t we go and lend a hand.” 
It was not, in fact, a great suggestion at all. What it was though is a ruse.
You didn’t give him the time to answer, immediately bolting outside the room. You knew you had him in a corner because Steve Rogers might’ve been a master strategist, a renowned captain, and a fearless leader, but you could always uncover the cracks in his façade, and you were certain something about this house didn’t sit right with him either. He just didn’t want to admit it out loud.
“Uhm, maybe you should sit this one out, dove. You’ve never been good with a paintbrush.” 
“Maybe so,” you replied with your back still to him. You didn’t need heightened senses to catch the shy curse that left his mouth. “But I’m good at baking. I can offer the new neighbors some pumpkin pie while you help them with the paint. You’re the artist, after all, baby.” 
Steve caught your wrist before you could open the fridge to “search” for the ingredients for your pie. 
“You mean like right now?” 
“Yes! We may not be able to do much, but maybe enough to not have the trick-and-treaters scurry away at the sight of that house.” 
Releasing your wrist from his grasp, you reached for the fridge. Steve’s veiny hand collided with the metal door, forcing it to close. With his hands on your hips, he spun you around and placed your body against the fridge. 
“Y/N.” The coldness of the fridge’s metal door against your fingertips did little to appease the flames burning in your soul. God damn Steve Rogers and the effect he had on you. “Don’t make me say it.” 
“Say what?” 
“…I hate that house.” 
“The nice house down our street?” 
“The morbid one that looks like Azkaban.” 
“Aha!” You joiced, finger digging into Steve’s chest. “I knew I wasn’t the only one who found that creepy old building ominous.” 
“Of course not. I’ve been pestering Tony for over a week, trying to find out who bought that place and see if they’re a security threat,” Steve admitted. 
You tilted your head to the side, lips pursing in thought. “I mean, I don’t like the house. But is it a security threat?”
Sensing the shift in your voice, Steve’s hand found purchase in your hair, twirling a strand in his index finger. It was a familiar habit he had developed since you’d gotten together. Partly comforting and partly grounding—for both of you. 
“According to Tony, it isn’t. But, you know me. Your safety is always at the forefront of my mind. And I don’t like how that house is so close to us.” 
“Me neither,” you replied, now playing with Steve’s hands. You traced the veins protruding from his skin, marveling at the difference between his large hands and your petite ones. “But with you here, I don’t care about a silly old house.” 
“So, can we forget about your little stakeout missions and go back to planning our private party this evening?” Steve smirked, tugging you closer by your waist. 
“It was one time!” 
“For five days.” 
“Shut up,” you said with feigned indignation. “Or else no private party. I’ll force you to attend Tony’s.” 
Steve’s eyes widened at the mention of Tony’s infamous party. This year, the theme was something along the lines of "Halloween of Doom." And since Steve wasn't a fan of the usual wild parties Tony would throw every chance he got,  he wasn't looking forward to the Halloween shenanigans.
Just as you took his hand in yours and pulled him toward the hall, a sharp tap against your window sounded across the room. Bemused, you turned to Steve. He immediately stepped in front of you, keeping an ear out to identify the source of the sound.
Incessant in its pursuit of attention, the sound boomed louder. Steve motioned for you to stay where you were while he investigated. Five seconds later, he called your name, albeit hesitantly. 
“Y/N,” he said, gaze unwavering ahead. “I think all that birdwatching you did called the attention of an angry bird.”
“Is that an owl?” You hadn’t realized how loud your voice was until the owl in question shrieked behind the glass window. What the hell was an owl doing at your house?
“It looks like it,” Steve answered. 
Neither of you tried to open the window, which agitated the owl. It ruffled its feathers and tapped the glass, clearly demanding entry. You studied the nocturnal creature, which obviously lacked a sense of orientation since you were nowhere near the evening. Something on its leg caught your eye. You gasped, pointing at it. “There’s a rolled-up letter attached to its leg!”
The moment Steve noticed the letter, he rushed to open the window. The owl flew in, forcing you to step a couple of feet back—you were a sane person who didn’t go out of their way to look for owls, let alone ones that appeared in broad daylight.
Steve plucked the letter from its leg and opened it. “It’s an invitation.”
“For what?”
“A Halloween feast,” he said, eyeing the letter suspiciously. “At House 5 on Easton Avenue.” It was the same morbid house you two had been discussing. 
You carefully approached Steve, mindful of the owl on your coffee table. You took the letter in your hands, reading it aloud. 
We’ve Caught Your Unblinking Eye Through the Ashen Veil We Know You Are Curious. We Feel It in Our Veins.
To Uncover the Macabre Truths Shrouded by Our Shadows  Join the Halloween Feast Tonight 
And Embrace a Chilling Night at Doom’s Manor House 5 - Easton Avenue - 9:00 PM
“This is worse than our phones when they display targeted ads because of whatever they heard us talking about,” you exclaimed, hands tightly clutching the piece of paper.
Steve’s eyes widened significantly, pure horror crossing his features. “Our phones do that?” 
"Yeah," you replied with a matter-of-fact tone. You've most likely added one more item to Steve Rogers' “X Things I Hate About the Twenty-First Century” list. "They pick up on our search history too. So, maybe they'll know why that owl still hasn't left yet because it's starting to give me the creeps."
The owl with brown feathers and round yellow eyes hooted, hopping on the table and looking between you and Steve. It definitely did not like you.
“Maybe it wants something?” Steve guessed.
“Like what? Dollar bills or a treat in exchange for its postal services?” you scoffed. The owl wasn’t privy to your cynicism, but you still crept closer to Steve in fear of it deciding to attack you or something. 
“A confirmation, maybe?” The owl hooted, seemingly agreeing with Steve. You quickly grabbed his arm, giving it a tight squeeze. “Dove, I don’t think it’s taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
As if on the same page, the owl moved away from you both and flew to the outside of the house. You and Steve just stared at the open window, House 5 right there, teasingly close.
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Steve was on high alert. His fingers dug into the edges of the wooden window as he fixed his eyes on the mysterious house down Easton Avenue. You’d think that there would be bustling activity considering the owners had only recently moved in, but he never saw anyone walk in or out of that house. He didn’t even recall catching sight of anyone by the window. 
And although the Halloween feast was barely ten minutes away from starting, no one had approached the house yet. 
“Dove,” Steve called, pushing away from the window and adjusting his suit. “I’m gonna head out now. I know that Tony and the others overlooked the invite and didn’t want to interfere, but to be on the safe side—”
He was about to tell you to activate your security system and connect to the emergency line of the Avengers Initiative if he didn’t update you within twenty minutes of entering that house. But his words were stuck on the tip of his tongue when you walked into view.
“Why are you wearing your stealth suit?” you asked, almost glumly. Steve just blinked, looking completely flabbergasted, like a deer caught in headlights.
“I can ask you the same thing.” He pointed at your outfit, his tongue poking out and wetting his lips. “Why do you have a stealth suit on? Where did you even get one?” 
The saccharine surprise in Steve’s tone fueled your heart with desire. You chewed on your lower lip, twirling a strand of your hair to draw Steve’s attention to your ponytail. His breath hitched, his eyes running a marathon across the expanse of your neck. You relished the lust that crossed over his features when you swayed your hips and sauntered to his side. 
“Do you like it?” came your ardent whisper. Steve’s hands circled your hips, fingers burying in the leather of your suit, squeezing your side in affirmation.
You loved Halloween, making it your October resolution to find the best costume. But it was always hard to find one, considering there were so many options to choose from, and you were as decisive as a Gemini. After some time, an Avengers stealth suit popped up during your search, one which sinfully complimented your ass and curves. So you knew, right away, that getting your hands on it was a must if it would drive Steve crazy. 
“Why are you wearing it, dove?” Steve asked once more.
Innocently batting your eyelashes at him, you answered, “Because we’re going to the Halloween feast.” 
“Absolutely not.” And there it was. “I told you, I’m going in to check it. Alone. It’s a mission, Y/N. And you stray away from those.” 
“It’s not an official mission if Tony didn’t approve it.” 
“I’m the Head of the Avengers.” 
“You’re Head Strategist, yes. But we both know that if Tony and Fury don’t give the green light, you can’t treat whatever this is as a mission.” 
You had him there, and you knew it. While Steve Rogers had a knack for defending any argument and finding a way to assert his stance, this time he faltered for an answer, and only managed to say, “You’re still not going.” 
“Don’t you think it’s going to look a tad bit suspicious if you walk into that house alone? And with your suit on?” 
“No,” Steve shrugged. “Besides, that’s why I’m leaving my shield here.” 
“And your common sense.” If his glare was any indication, he didn’t appreciate your commentary. “If I go with you, it would look like we’re genuinely interested in their stupid feast. You can snoop around while I stick to the activities.” 
“That’s too dangerous.” 
“So, why do you assume I’d let you go there on your own?” 
“Because I’m enhanced, Y/N.” 
“And I’m a SHIELD agent for the night, Steve.” 
“And you judge me about my common sense?” 
“Steve,” you stressed, catching his attention. “If that house is not as safe as the Avengers claim, I am not letting you go there by yourself. You can either go against me and leave me here, alone, well aware that our loony neighbors are watching. Or, you take me with you. It’s your call.”
It’s been yours since the beginning, and you’re not the least bit surprised when Steve mumbled something incoherent before he ushered you out of the house. 
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The neighboring houses, much like your own, were modestly decorated for the occasion. The Barbers, your neighbors from across the street, had a couple of skeleton bodies strewn across the yard and fake bats hanging from the large tree in their backyard. The Adlers went with carved pumpkins and flickering lanterns, which created a warm, inviting ambiance. Meanwhile, the Hansens had embraced the theme with scattered tombstones and heinous, life-sized witches tending to their boiling cauldrons.
Although the fifth house on Easton Avenue was barren and devoid of even a string light, it stood as the most intimidating and menacing of them all. The sinister atmosphere grew more palpable when you and Steve approached. The wind carried an unsettling chill, and the ancient trees lining the path creaked like ghostly sentinels. It was as if the house was an isle of malevolence adrift in a sea of darkness.
“Why is it the only house with fog surrounding it?” Steve noted. You both stood by a withered fence, the imposing structure casting long, foreboding shadows.
“I don’t know,” you replied, glancing around nervously. “Maybe it’s just a fog machine, but this place is terrifying enough as it is. It doesn’t need any more decorations.”
With a heavy breath, Steve stepped forward, the fog swirling around his boots. You watched in apprehension as the entrance loomed ahead. Steve paused for a moment, turning back to you. His eyes, usually full of determination, now held a flicker of doubt. “I have a bad feeling about this, Y/N.”
The atmosphere turned even more chilling when, suddenly, a low, dissonant hum echoed from the depths of the house, making your hair stand on end. It was as if the very walls themselves held their breath in anticipation.
Without breaking his gaze from the looming house, Steve extended his hand toward you. You clasped onto it, anchoring yourself to this distorted reality. He spared a glance your way, one that was brief in time yet abundant in intensity, and you responded with a nod, your nerves on edge. With a deep breath, Steve raised his clenched fist to knock on the door, but before he could make contact, it swung open on its own.
You both cautiously crossed the threshold, never releasing each other's hands. You were met with a dimly lit room, paintings strewn across its walls, each with a calculating pair of eyes narrowing on you.
"Welcome, Steve Rogers and Y/N Y/L/N," a commanding voice boomed, rattling the portraits on the wall. You jumped in your shoes, trying to catch a glimpse of the source. You were left bewildered, staring at the void that surrounded you. "Welcome to a chilling night at Doom's Manor!"
You didn’t have time to ask questions—you barely had a chance to think before the front door swung shut and the blinds closed, engulfing the sinister house in even more darkness. 
“What the hell?” you cried as an oppressive silence descended. It was like you were sucked into a black hole with only Steve’s touch tethering you to earth. “Steve! Turn on your flashlight.” 
“I don’t have a flashlight, Y/N,” Steve tersely replied. 
“You have a phone, which has a built-in flashlight. Turn it on,” you urged, your voice tinged with desperation. “Then we can discuss why you brought a gun and no flashlight to this place!”
You heard him groan in frustration, palms smacking against the leather of his suit as he fished out his phone. He pressed it, fingers less than graceful when it came to touchscreens. For a moment, you thought he had forgotten how to unlock the device. Until he said, “My battery’s dead.” 
“Our brilliant Head Strategist venturing on a mission without the means to communicate! What kind of expert overlooks that?” you chastised, fishing out your own phone. You tapped it repeatedly, but the screen remained blank. A sinking feeling washed over you as you pressed the side button, yet it refused to light up. “I swear it was charged,” you whispered in disbelief.
“I’m afraid that your phones won’t work here,” the same disorienting voice said. 
Unexpectedly, a blinding white radiance cut through the darkness, forcing both you and Steve to shield your eyes. As the light faded, it started to flicker intermittently, weaving through the walls and mingling with the torchlights.
Despite all the courage you tried to manifest, your voice brokenly whispered, “Steve, is this a bad time to tell you that I was never fond of haunted houses as a kid?” 
The lights were still flickering when Steve ripped his hand from your firm grasp. Your breath hitched, thinking the worst. But he was still there next to you, eyeing the door. “No one is, dove. And I’m not forcing you to like ‘em now.” 
With all the super soldier strength coursing through his veins, Steve lunged at the door, attempting to force it open. It broke your heart to see it stubbornly clenching its hinges no matter how many times Steve flung himself against it.
The mysterious voice tutted, inundating your being with fear. You held your breath, praying that Steve would get you both out of here fast.
“You should learn to treat even inanimate objects kindly, Captain Rogers. Or does all that strength chip away at your humanity?” 
Ignoring the voice, Steve continued his assault on the door. What he didn’t expect was an incorporeal force that lunged at him without warning. The unadulterated strength in its grip sent him hurling through the air until he crashed to the ground with a loud groan. 
“Steve!” you called apprehensively. 
“Should I have warned you not to do that? Thought it was self-explanatory?” the same voice commented. 
You heard your heels clicking against the tiles before you could even think about moving. Steve was rubbing at his temple, eyes forcibly closed after the fall. You were almost by his side when you felt a hand grab your hair and fling you into the air. 
You shrieked, the quiver in your voice igniting Steve’s anger. He raced forward, arms stretched out. But unlike the pale, ghastly form that manhandled you, tangible vines stemmed from the recesses of the house’s tiles and walls, aiming at Steve. 
“Get off him!” you commanded as you kicked your feet and threw a punch. Your forceful gestures vaporized into the thin air, torpid against the vice grip of the spirit before you. You gasped hard when the misty form wrapped itself around your neck—constricting the air around and molding you and the wall as one. 
“Y/N!” Steve grunted, desperately trying to pry himself out of the vines’ steel grip. “Hold on. I-I’ll get it o-off.” 
The morbid atmosphere was getting worse as dark spots clung to your vision’s periphery. The incorporeal assault remained relentless, slamming you once more against the wall. As you forced your eyes to meander, searching for a solution, you focused on antique torches, each with a blue flame in its grasp. 
The same torch hung from the wall you were trapped against. With a growl and a hell lot of hope that Ghostbusters had taught you something useful, you snatched the torch and incinerated the elusive monster. 
One less than graceful descent later, you braced yourself against the floor with a thud. Steve was still struggling against Mother Nature’s prodigal offspring. He’d gotten a dagger out, but the more he cut through the vines, the more they multiplied. 
You staggered your way to him just as the plant lunged at his face. “Don’t even think about it!” you warned, attacking the plant with the iridescent flames. Steve inhaled sharply as the vines, which were wrapped around him, turned into ash. 
“Dove, I don’t know if I should be in awe or fear of what just happened,” Steve admitted as you helped him up. You were too busy inspecting his body for injuries to answer. 
“We need to get out of here,” you said in one breath. “This place isn’t safe.” 
Steve was about to answer when the eerie voice interjected, “Safe is boring.” 
You sneered, wanting so badly to punch whoever was callously commenting. Steve grabbed you tightly and maneuvered his way through the house. Luckily, nothing else attacked you two as you navigated the narrow corridors except for the thick dust and the cobwebs. 
Steve had found a door, which he immediately opened. As he stepped into the room, large and foreboding, a sense of apprehension gripped him. Shadows danced along the walls, playing tricks on his vision, while a musty scent of decay lingered in the air.
You both tried to find a way out, but to your utter horror, the same door you had opened to run into this room disappeared. 
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Steve asked, bewildered. He ran his hands over the wall, fingers tracing the edges of the now-invisible door. “How is that even possible?” 
You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know. But the werewolf would have been better.” 
“Well, that could be arranged,” the mysterious voice announced. 
In hindsight, you should’ve thought twice before giving your two cents. But how were you supposed to know that the sentient house didn’t only manipulate nightmares but could also manifest them?
Steve turned toward you, distress visibly carved across his forehead. He reached out for his gun just as a violent wind attacked the isolated room. Your hair flailed, falling victim to the assault. 
You tightened your hold on the torch despite the wind’s ministrations. It was thrashing within the borders of the room, incessantly clawing at you and Steve. The bright azure flames wavered from where they were perched on your torch, despite all your attempts at keeping them tamed. They tumbled down and crashed into the ground. 
The moment the flames met the tiles, they burst into a fit of undiluted anger. The blue orbs separated, each tracing its brittle path and leaving destruction in its wake. The flames circled you and Steve in a dance of tantalizing grace—rising beyond the surface and falling back into the ground’s arms. 
You and Steve were each pushed to one side. You stood there, him with a fully loaded gun and you with an empty torch, silently watching as the translucent flames birthed a werewolf. 
“I don’t think the situation can get any worse,” you pointed out, taking care to not step into the line of fire. Literally. “So, is it too late to ask for a vampire instead? At least we have a stake.” 
Steve looked appalled by the suggestion. “This isn’t the Edmond-Jason debate, Y/N! Both options are worse for wear!” 
The werewolf wasn’t fond of Steve’s vernacular; at least, that’s why you assumed since it decided to lunge at him first. You slumped back just as Steve ducked his head and rolled to the side. The beast was relentless in its movement, clawing and growling at your soldier—canines salivating with excitement, eager to dip into flesh. 
“I know it’s not the time, but it’s Edward and Jacob! And what I meant is that we at least have a stake! A viable weapon against a vampire. What means of defense do we have against a translucent werewolf?!”
“The same thing we have against a translucent vampire,” Steve grunted, firing three consecutive shots at the luminous creature. All three of them pierced his hollow frame, leaving him unscathed. “Nothing!”  
Despite the fear that inundated your body, you still looked for a weapon to fight the beast with. Unfortunately for you, the room was desolate with nothing but mold and fractured walls holding it on their shoulders. Steve was actively trying to retain its attention, steering it clear from your path, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to last any longer. 
“Well, maybe the house can conjure a non-translucent vampire,” you thought aloud. Truthfully, you weren’t really thinking straight, but what other choices did you have at the moment?
Needless to say, Steve disagreed. “Vampires aren’t real!” 
“Well, what do you know?” you shrieked, all modicum of common sense out of the non-existent window. “There is a Spider-Man and an Ant-Man. Who's to say there is not a.. a Bat-Man that’s willing to make this situation a little less complicated!” The wolf finally caught your voice. It growled as if to show its dissatisfaction at having to hear you speak, craning its head and baring its teeth when its silver eyes landed on you. “Mysterious house, please!”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” 
If you could take a wild guess, you’d say the werewolf wasn’t particularly fond of the creepy voice. That, or it was crestfallen at the idea of losing its chew toys. 
Its blue glow intensified, switching from deceitful calm to voracious hunger. Your heart hammered in your chest, assaulting your ribcage as it sensed the looming danger. You tried to step away, but the wolf spied on your meek attempt. It prowled, ferocious and murderous in its pursuit. 
Just as you raised your arms to shield yourself from him, Steve’s body collided with yours. “Y/N!” his scream ricocheted across the walls. 
Was it so vehemently loud? You wondered. Or were your ears easily susceptible to noise? 
As soon as Steve’s arms wrapped around you, you fell gracelessly into the void. The blue of the wolf fused with the paleness of the room, making a torpedo of vivid, interloping colors swirl before your eyes. The fall was like a dwindling spiral—long, endless, and tiring. And then you landed somewhere more stale; much more dark.
“Y/N!” Your name was the first thing you heard and the light that pulled you from darkness’ heavy lull. Hands roamed your body, gentle yet firm, unrelenting despite the groan that escaped your throat. “Y/N, please. I need to know you’re okay. Tell me that you weren’t hurt.” 
You lifted your head, now aware that you were lying on Steve’s chest. The perilous haze only barely dissipated once you opened your eyes. “I’m okay. Are you?” you asked, eyes raking over Steve’s figure to see if he had been hurt in that fight. Besides his frightened and concerned eyes, he looked alright. 
A long breath escaped his pink lips. His large hand cradled your face, magically bringing your pulse back to a languid pace. “As long as you’re alright, I’m fine. But I’ll be better once we get out of here.”
You stood up, holding your hand out to Steve, which he gratefully took. Lacing your fingers together, you carefully examined your surroundings, noting the hollow room you were in. Once again devoid of light, air, and a way out.
“How are we gonna get out?”
“Through that door.” By now, your senses had been attuned to the house’s tricks, so you weren’t jostled by the resounding echoes of the mysterious voice. True to its words, a large blue door materialized at the far end of the hallway. It rattled against its hinges, almost as if something was trying to break free on the other side. “Better hurry up, angel wings. Or else you’ll miss it.”
The voice dissolved softly like snowflakes giving away to the sun. And yet, its resolve bellowed across the room, the walls and ground shattering against its whispers. 
“Maybe the vampires weren’t such a bad idea after all,” Steve remarked. You knew his Captain's brain was on overdrive, actively searching for the best escape route. But you knew it was there, right in front of you. So, mustering up all the courage you had in you, you tugged Steve’s hand and bolted toward the blue door. 
The walls wailed, angered at your choice. They began to move, closing in on you at a menacing speed. Steve pulled you closer, almost molding both your bodies into one. He gained momentum, and your feet were about to give up from the unbridled force of his movements. 
The walls were at a measurable distance, and you couldn’t believe you’d made it unharmed this far. Steve reached out, trying to push the silver loop that would open the door. But you should’ve known better than to trust the mysterious house. Of course, it wasn’t going to make it easy. 
“Of course, I wasn’t going to make it easy,” the voice parrotted the words inside your head. 
“What do you want?” Steve seethed, looking over his shoulders as the walls picked up their pace. 
“O Captain! My Captain! To enter Doom’s lair, you must first answer my question.”
“What question?”
You heard someone clear their throat, and you could’ve sworn the bastard was smirking before it answered,
“Forged by fears and entangled in thoughts, 
Within the breadth of darkness, I reside. 
Devoid of soul, I grasp control,
In my distorted mist, your will subsides.
I am concealed within deceit and unseen with eyes, 
Tell me, soldier, who am I?"
“Son of a bitch!”
“Language, Captain. And that’s not the answer.”
Your feet quivered, bouncing in place. Steve had lost his patience, now alternating between throwing answers and attempting to knock the door down. He was spewing some more worthless answers while you stared at the walls. Barely 10 inches separated you from your ultimate demise, and nothing but a correct answer would save you from this situation. Despite your fears, you took a deep breath, knowing you needed to answer that question. Now.
“Nightmare!” you yelled. Steve had stopped the assault on the door, looking at you with a perplexed gaze. “The answer to the riddle is  a nightmare.”
A weighty silence gripped the helm of the foreboding atmosphere, lingering until the awaited response finally emerged. “That is correct.” 
The locks turned, the door creaking as it offered you the solace you’ve been so desperately seeking. Steve practically pushed you inside, following you soon after. The door closed shut behind you, ushering you into a misty room. The wind picked up once again, and before you, a cloaked figure emerged. Its head was down, edges of the onyx fabric it wore blowing with every single caress of the wind. 
“Welcome,” the figure said in the same gruff and deep voice that you’ve been hearing since you entered the house. “Welcome to a chilling night at Doom’s Manor!”
“Who the hell are you?” you inquired agitatedly just as Steve ordered the figure to lift its cloak. 
The cloaked figure revealed its pallid hands, previously concealed. With a tantalizing motion, the fingers encircled the edge of the hood, slowly lifting it. Your eyes widened, mind barely comprehending what you saw. And before you know it, you and Steve were saying the same thing in the same affronted tone. “Tony?”
“Oh, god. You should’ve seen your faces!” Tony clapped his hands together, the force of his laughs making him bend down and clutch his knees. 
As he did that, the creepy atmosphere eroded, mist evaporating to reveal the large room behind it. Contrary to the other areas within the establishment, the room was full of life and spacious, with neon lights and a large disco ball illuminating it. All of the Avengers were there, and you even spotted Peter Parker in an Iron Man costume tearing Bucky’s ear off with one of his stories. Judging from the number of waiters tending to the even bigger number of guests, you knew what you walked into. 
“Did you seriously rent out a spooky house just so that you can throw a secret party in its basement?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“No,” Tony huffed, seemingly offended by the absurdity of your claim. “I bought it.”
Behind you, Steve was rolling his eyes while you raked your fingers through your loose ponytail. You were never going to understand billionaires and their logic. 
“I thought you were throwing a party at the Compound,” Steve finally spoke. And thank God he did before you ripped Tony a new one for the scare he’d just cost you. You were most certainly going to have him cover your health insurance for the next eon and the one after.
“I was. But then you bailed to play house with your girl—great costume, by the way, Y/N. We should talk to Fury about making you a SHIELD agent. And they say your boyfriend’s ass is America’s ass.”
“Tony!”
“What? Fine, don’t get jealous. You still are America’s ass but in a less sexy and more annoying way.”
“Would you just tell me what the hell was all this?”
“Man, if I knew all it would take me is Wanda’s freaky manipulation magic to get you to curse, I would’ve done that a long time ago.”
Feeling your headache on the verge of expanding, you put your hand on Steve’s arm and interceded, “It’s clear that you're high on mindlessness right now. So, once you’re down from the Tony Stark Clouds of Wonder, we’ll talk about you and your ridiculous behavior.”
“Geez Louise, you’re not dressed as a shield agent, but the female counterpart of Captain Stern over here.”
“At least I’m not one less nose away from looking like Voldemort,” you spat as you trudged toward the party, Steve a step behind you.
Tony scoffed, his voice softer compared to the blaring music. “I’m dressed as the Grim Reaper.”
“Yeah, well, your stick seems to have been lost somewhere up your ass!” 
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When you and Steve joined the party, you headed immediately toward the bar. You weaved your way across the dance floor, giving Sonic-dressed Pietro a quick wave and catching the eye of a disinterested Bruce in an Ultron costume. 
Natasha was at the bar, dressed as a ballerina with a pink tutu and a lot of pearly pins in her hair. You shot her a questioning look, which quickly dissolved courtesy of the menacing glare in her eyes. ‘Don’t ask,’ she silently communicated, and you were content with sitting there on a surprisingly comfortable barstool instead of running away from a wolf. 
“I can’t believe Tony did all of this?” Steve voiced out, shoulders hunched and laced with tension. 
Natasha handed him a signature fix she’d just made, passing you your drink of choice. “It’s not just you two. He did it to plenty of people.”
“Like who?”
“Bucky and Sam,” Natasha replied to your question. “They couldn't answer the riddle, so they got stuck outside cursing at one another until Strange had enough of their arguing and portalled them in. They were pretty pissed. Thor made it out, thanks to Loki. He enjoyed it, though. Loki? Not so much. He turned into a snake and tried to bite Tony the moment he got to the other side of the door. Pepper and Happy are next.”
You shook your head at the thought. “She’s going to kill him.”
“Exactly. Which is why he has a surprise for her, under lock and key, somewhere around here.”
Dissatisfied by the piece of information, Steve snatched his drink and faced the other way. “Of course, he’d try to get out something without facing the repercussions.” His attention focused on Tony's exaggerated gestures as he iterated his previous morbid speech to the new guests. 
Your eyes narrowed at Tony, thoughts errant as they dug up a hundred ways you could get back at him. Honestly, a part of you was willing to get Snake Loki to bite him or convince Dr. Strange to send him halfway across the universe. But you wanted to hit him where it hurts. You wanted him to feel the fear he inflicted on you and Steve, even if it was for just a moment. But Tony Stark didn’t fear anything. Well, apart from Starbucks running out of his favorite coffee and Pepper ignoring him. 
“Pepper!” you shouted in glee. Steve and Natasha looked between you and the door, thinking that Pepper had already crossed all the obstacles and made it safely to the party. A crease lined up on their foreheads when they didn't find her there. “Nat, you don’t happen to have a key to that room, do you?"
At the drop of a hat, Natasha caught on to what you were saying. She shook her head but deviously smirked, green eyes flickering to the space behind you. “I don’t. But Wanda’s been regretting helping Stark on this. It shouldn’t be hard to convince her to help you get back at him.”
You jumped from your seat, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The intensity of your excitement and the tug on Steve’s arm made his drink fall and spill on the countertop. It took you a minute to find Wanda, who was sitting in the corner with downcast eyes, nursing a drink. She didn’t hesitate to help you, literally jumping at the chance. 
Moments later, she led you to a room down a few halls and flicked her wrist, materializing a key and unlocking the door. Her 30s-inspired dress swung as her figure retreated. You looked at Steve, took a deep breath, and entered the room. But where you expected to find shopping bags, jewelry, or even a giant Iron Man teddy bear, what you found was something entirely different. 
“Steve,” his name came out as a whisper. “Please don’t tell me I have to explain what I’m seeing. Because I don’t think I can.”
Your gaze was fixed on your surroundings, unable to be torn from anything else. You didn’t see Steve’s unblinking eyes or the tingles that danced across his fingers. It took him a while before he composed himself and answered you. “It’s okay. I already know.”
The room was red, a deep, rich shade of scarlet red. And if you had been careful enough to read the plaque by the room’s door, you would’ve figured it was Tony’s Halloween version of the red room. But what was beneath the mirrored ceiling, which quite frankly made you hyperventilate at the thought of the glass possibly falling on you while sleeping on that astonishingly spacious king-sized bed, was not a welcoming ballet class with metal bars and pink pointe shoes on the side. It was red walls with metal cuffs and chains attached to them and a widespread table with three silk blindfolds, floggers, ropes, and a whole lot of other things that made heat rise to your cheeks. 
“We can’t destroy anything,” you breathed out with a voice that was too airy to be your own. “We can’t even hide anything with that wide selection Tony has. He’s not going to miss a blindfold, and he’ll just ask for another bottle of champagne.” 
Steve didn’t answer, his mind preoccupied with something else. You couldn’t fault him; it was exceedingly hard to look at the room around you. And when you chanced a glance at the corners, you had to bite your lip at the sight of the cameras and lighting. Tony went all out, and to be honest, you didn’t know if this was his “genius-philanthropist” side, who was investing in a sexually healthy relationship with Pepper, or if it was his “billionaire-playboy” side, who decided there’s no shame in indulging in a variety of pleasures and give Pepper the liberty of choice.
You were so lost in thought, you were surprised to find Steve examining one of the cameras. He flicked on the lights and turned the camera to your side. Your brain finally registered his actions, and you were sure he didn’t know what he was doing since he barely even knew how to answer a video call. But before you could say anything, Steve beat you to it.
“Why destroy when we can take advantage?”
The camera turned on. You could tell from the twinkle of mischief in Steve’s irises that he caught the stagger in your pulse before you even did. He turned around, his sculpted and perfectly molded back replaced with the sight of his chiseled jaw. You gulped, blood rushing to your ears while shivers rushed down your spine.
You watched as Steve glided across the room, footsteps light and noiseless compared to the harsh speed of your heartbeats and the fray within your every vein. You wanted him. And he knew because with each step he took to get closer to you, you didn’t falter. You stood right where you were, waiting for him to devour you.
His cerulean eyes transformed, ebbing and flowing in a sea of blue and green. Until his waves crashed against your shore, and you met them somewhere in the middle.
“Steve.”
He didn’t reply. He inched closer even though there was no more room for his body to creep to, forcing his knee between your legs and giving you no other choice but to open them. You almost stumbled but quickly understood what he wanted.
It was like a dance. Every time Steve moved closer, you found yourself stepping back until your back hit the door, leaving nothing but locked gazes between you. With a bated breath, you studied Steve’s movements, whimpering as his left arm rose and nestled against your head. His palm was pressed against the cold door, whose color burned with desire. And somehow, Steve absorbed that hunger and set your entire body ablaze with it. Without a single touch.
“I can feel you,” he murmured on top of your lips, his velvety breath claiming rights to a first kiss. Steve leaned his body closer, almost engulfing you whole. His index and middle fingers made contact with your skin, and you swore you could’ve exploded. He traced the distance between your fingers and forearm, leisurely exploring the smooth surface that framed your veins. Involuntarily, your head craned, exposing your neck as he inched closer and closer, cheekily exhaling against your pulse point. “I can smell you,” he almost moaned, or maybe that was you. “You smell so tart, so fresh. So, deliriously scrumptious.”
“Steve,” this time, you did moan, implicitly begging him to touch you. You heard the lock on the door click, but you didn’t dare move your eyes.
In the next few seconds, Steve pulled the key out of the keyhole. You exhaled loudly, head banging against the wooden door when he moved the metal keys against your clothed heat. Sparks ignited in your soul as you began to take the fast lane to heaven, and Steve’s voice didn’t help the ache recede. It only fanned its flames.
“So wet.” He knew it without feeling it for himself. “So inviting.” He moved the key from your center to your navel and then to your sternum. You hadn’t realized how hot your body was until the keys touched your collarbone. It was a clash of hot and cold—an explosion of the senses with Steve’s breath hovering against your shoulders to add the final and delicious touch. With tantalizing grace, the key danced across your throat and chin, lifting your head to meet Steve’s breathless whisper, “So beautiful.”
Your eyes met, and you couldn't tell if his pupils were dilated or if his typically clear blue eyes were merely mirroring your own. He trapped your cheeks in his hold, applying the slightest bit of pressure on them. You couldn’t help but gaze at the camera that recorded the way Steve tapped the key against your lips, almost pushing it in.
Within the next second, his fingers loosened around the key, making it fall into the open space of your suit. You moaned aloud, the sound stretching over a minute when Steve stuffed his index and middle fingers in your mouth while bringing his prominent bulge closer to your heat. “My mistake, little dove.” He thrust forward, his clothed dick deliciously humping against your pussy. You whimpered around his fingers. “Be a pretty little girl, Y/N, and suck on my fingers while I get back that key.”
You nodded your head, vehemently following his order. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked his fingers inside your throat—lost in the simple pleasures Steve Rogers was known to give.
He planted wet, demanding kisses on your neck and just below your ear, not too far from your earlobe but not close enough. His other hand caressed your cheek until it retreated and began to reach for the zipper on your suit. It was at the forefront, making it easy for Steve to find it and lower it down. His hips met yours just as you pushed his fingers away from your throat. You pulled them back in, keeping the rhythm going while your tongue swirled around his fingertips.
Your zipper lowered, slowly and placidly, yet there was nothing peaceful about the way Steve trailed his thumb across your exposed skin. A fire consumed you whole, a sinful moan escaping when he found the key and cupped your pussy, with it still in his hands. You could’ve cried then and there, and frankly, there were tears on the edge of your lashes. In your lustful delirium, you hadn’t noticed your hiked leg on Steve's waist, which was pushing him closer to your body. He massaged your heat, his fingers and the key playing with your clothed folds until he backed away completely to cup your cheeks.
“Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me, dove?” he asked in a sultry voice that made your core weep.
He took his fingers out of your mouth, keeping his eyes on parted lips. You wet your them eagerly, needing him to satiate your thirst. “Yes, Captain.”
Steve smirked, the key long forgotten but the desire ever-present. “When I sit down on the edge of that bed, you’re going to take off your clothes. I want you to keep that sinful bra, these terrible excuse for panties, and those high heels on. Nothing else, alright?”
“Yes, Captain,” you affirmed.
Steve leaned forward, his pink lips above yours. You chased them, greedily wanting a kiss. But the only thing you got was a smirk in return. He took a slight detour, heading toward the camera on the right to make sure it was on, too. His broad shoulders looked even more breathtaking in the softly lit space.
Then, he sat down on the large bed, legs open and inviting. You took it as your cue. Gracefully, you slipped the suit off your skin, sighing in exaggerated relief as the fabric released its hold. You were filled with a sense of accomplishment when Steve shifted in his seat, his throat bobbing. You grabbed at your sides, making sure your thong was at a perfect angle before lowering the rest of your suit down. Steve’s breath was caught in his throat, eyes examining you as you slipped off your shoes to peel the rest of your stealth suit off.
Remembering Tony’s previous remarks about the suit, you turned back, purposely bending over as you grabbed your shoes. You kept your back at the same lowered angle, giving Steve a front-row seat to your round ass, temptingly framed by the thin black thong you had on.
Despite your bubbling anticipation, you took your time. And you were not disappointed by the sight before you. Steve was already cupping his clothed erection, playing with himself because of your actions. You glanced at him, moving one heel in front of the other, but he put up his hand before you could move any closer.
“St—?”
“On your knees,” he ordered. You were surprised by his command but quickly composed yourself, setting yourself on your knees with your hands flat on your thighs obediently. “Crawl to me, little dove. Come and show me how good you can make a man feel.”
It was like you were moving on autopilot. All your brain could muster were thoughts of Steve. On top of you, underneath you, and facing you. Every single image was of him losing control and moaning your name without abandon. So, you crawled like the good girl you want to be—his good girl.
When you got to his side, you touched his ankles, hands skimming across his legs and fingers teasing the area behind his knees. Choked sounds escaped his parted lips, egging you on. Your lips landed on his clothed erection, and you stilled for a beat, then two. You could feel him twitch as a result of your gaze.
Hands on the inside of his thighs, you gave him a gentle squeeze. You puckered your lips and peppered kisses on his clothed erection, going as far as to whimper. There was soon pressure on your head once Steve carded his fingers in your hair. “Y/N,” he murmured. “Don’t tease.”
Your doe eyes met his in a luscious glance, his eyes never leaving yours. Not when you bit down on his belt, not when you untangled it with only your teeth, and certainly not when you helped him out of his suit, yanking down his boxers and sucking on his tip. “Yes, that’s it, dove. That’s it,” he said, head thrown back.
And you took the chance to make him crumble even more. His dick was large, exhilaratingly captivating. You felt dirty at the thought of wanting it inside of you—inside your mouth and your pussy. Hell, you even loved having it between your breasts. You just wanted Steve’s dick so bad, and you were not shying away from mentally admitting that Steve turned you from his little dove to his good little whore whenever his dick was involved.
You hollowed your cheek and took as much of his dick as you could in your mouth. You had been practicing, some nights trying to deepthroat him thrice to get every bit of him in you, tattooing your every essence on his cock. 
Steve moaned, loudly and pornographically, bucking inside your mouth. You accepted him, moving even further down across his shaft, the wet noises only spurring you on. Greedily, you used your hands to grip his base. When your mouth thrust deeper, your hands moved higher, creating a polarizing rhythm that left Steve throwing himself back against the bed. “Good God,” he practically screamed. “Take me. Take all of me in your little mouth and tiny hands, Y/N. Wet my dick with your mouth, baby girl. Make me cum just for you.”
You obliged, taking him even deeper and relishing his moans. Your lips moved lower, tongue circling around his balls before you sucked each of them in. His grip on you tightened, eliciting a slight pain in your head. But you didn't care. “Fucking good girl of mine,” he cried out breathlessly, fingers fisting your hair. “Fucking perfect mouth that’s made to take no one but me. To swallow no man’s cum but mine. To have its walls and roof painted white by my dick and my dick alone.”
Your pussy ached, and you found yourself desperately humping against the floor while you took his balls in your mouth, moaning like a fucking porn star. You were surprised your lustful sounds hadn’t attracted anyone yet, and you quickly realized that the room must’ve been soundproof. The realization made you rub your pussy harsher against the parquet floor, hands now gripping Steve’s thighs for dear life. 
In your peripheral vision, you saw Steve move his shoe-clad feet closer to your core. You whimpered, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. Steve was a gentleman, and while he could be feral in the bedroom, he could never find it in himself to humiliate or degrade. But he knew that when lust took over, you desperately wanted to be his slut. His whore. Nothing but a hole for him to abuse and fill at his leisure.
The first time you asked him to degrade you, he froze. And when he wasn’t comfortable with doing that, you didn’t ask again. But Steve would sometimes do something. A small gesture to appease the both of you. He’d reach out for the drawer and silently look at you with a soundless question: can I use toys? He’d put three fingers in your pussy and wait for you to ask for more before he fisted you.
And tonight, he was giving it to you. The chance to be degraded—to be his perfect little whore. And you took it, crying out loud, practically sobbing at the feel of your wetness coating his shoes. He didn’t move, but you did, swinging your hips back and forth while taking all of his dick in your mouth. You hadn’t noticed how utterly filthy and lewd you looked until you raised your eyes and met your reflection in the ceiling’s mirror. Steve was looking at you too. He watched the way you humped his shoes and took his cock in your mouth. He pushed you against his dick, and you choked. Your breathing became erratic the more you moved against his shoes, tears spilling down your eyes accompanied by the symphony of your satisfied sobs. And that did it for him. He exploded with a scream of your name, cum invading your mouth and taking over your entire senses.
He slowly shifted you back, freeing his shoe from your hold. You were a sight for sore eyes. Thong wet and askew, bra hanging low with pebbled nipples almost peeking out, eyes blown wide with desire. He devoured the painting in front of him, committing your disheveled hair and the cum dripping down the side of your red, swollen lips to memory.
“Captain.” Though he wasn’t too far off in his dreams—because they couldn’t rival this reality—Steve had to admit that he got lost in his thoughts. Your voice called out to him like a devious siren luring him to his demise. “Please. Take me.”
You gasped when his hands were suddenly on your ass, but you barely had the chance to think about it. In the next second, Steve placed you on the mattress with his lips perched above your own. They were like the forbidden fruit: enticing, delectable, and there. Just there, only slightly out of reach. He lightly caressed your lips, each time pulling back before you could reciprocate, repeating the motion until he finally yielded to you.
“Let me taste myself on your lips, little dove,” he breathed in your mouth huskily. “Prove to me I’m only appetizing on your tongue.” You obliged. Your lips captured his own in a violent assault, claiming his tongue as a hostage. Trapped within the walls of your mouth, it explored the edges and the roof, clashing against your own tongue.
You caressed his face, fingers grazing over the beginning of his stubble. A sigh escaped your lips, both from his seductive ministrations and the thought of his stubble against your wet pussy. The image dissolved as soon as his lips left your own. You yelped, finding Steve’s hands entrapping both of yours. “Stevie,” you whimpered, every syllable begging him for his attention. His other hand slithered down your body, gliding across your inner thigh. You thought this was it—he was finally giving you your heart’s desire. But instead of the moan you expected to flee from your throat’s confines, you heard yourself yelping. A sharp and blazing sensation overtook your core, forcing your head back.
“What do you want, dove? You gotta be specific for me, little one?”
“Your hands,” you moaned. It was quickly replaced by a sharp cry when Steve slapped your pussy again. “In me. Inside of me, please,” you begged, gasping when Steve landed another slap across your lower lips. Your clit ached, swollen and inflamed, showing Steve exactly where you needed him.
He slithered his fingers across your pussy lips, moving them up and down. You mewled, alternating between looking at your reflection in the mirror and looking at Steve. His fingers quickly found your entrance, and he put the tip of his fingers in. But the bane of mischief that Steve Rogers was in the bedroom, he took them out of you, replacing them with a harsh slap.
“Not yet,” he practically growled. Leaving you fighting for composure, Steve reached out to the table by his side. The first thing you saw was the handcuffs he diligently wrapped around your hands and secured against the bedframe. The second was the silver silk blindfolds, which he wrapped around your eyes.
You willingly slipped into the darkness, mesmerized by the sea of possibilities before you. Your senses amplified when Steve’s fingers traveled down the expanse of your body. You felt the bed dip, Steve’s bulky frame nestled on top of your stomach. And you melted in a pool of unbridled hunger when he tapped his index finger against your lips with a single command, “Don’t swallow.”
You half expected him to be jerking and ready to unload his load in your mouth. Or maybe he wanted you to take him once more down your throat. But you almost gagged at the feel of the cold liquid inundating your mouth—the taste of the bubbling champagne asserting its dominance.
Steve set the bottle down, leaving you unsure whether he had taken a sip or not. His earlier ministrations resumed, this time hands tugging at your bra. He cupped your breasts, weighing them in his hands. You wanted to moan so badly, but you didn’t want to defy his orders.
He reveled in the way you whimpered, sounds oppressed by the force of his command. He continued playing with your breasts, keeping your left one in his hand and drawing special attention to your right one. He peppered both of them with kisses, using his tongue to circle the area around your nipple and make your pussy clench around nothing but the air that surrounded you.
You bucked against his tongue, hands tugging at the restraints, but they refused to budge. Not that you expected them to. Breathing through your nose, you tried to reach for your impending release. You were no stranger to nipple orgasms, and Steve was trying to draw one out of you—you were sure. A fire built up inside of you, leaving your body temperature rising. You thrust your hips in the air. Sadly, nothing caught their movements.
Steve alternated between both nipples, giving each of them an equal amount of attention. You cried louder, trying to hold the champagne in. You were about to come when Steve pulled away.
A high-pitched whine reflected your displeasure, gaining you a slap to your pussy. “Patience,” Steve ordered, and you reluctantly obliged. Even though you ached to be ravaged by him, whether by his hands, tongue, or dick, you had to admit that you were enraptured by his movements and were always more than eager to lose yourself in his lustful tempest.
You let some fresh air fill your lungs, still breathing through your nose, while Steve adjusted himself on your body. Though blindfolded, your senses were elevated, and you could sense Steve’s body heat creeping closer to yours. True to your suspicion, he loomed over you. One of his hands slithered across your neck, trapping you in a chokehold. You embraced his untamed gestures, craning your head to hopefully meet his face. 
Without so much as a clue, Steve crashed his lips against yours with such fervor it left you reeling. You couldn’t keep the champagne in anymore, feeling Steve steal some of it from your mouth to his, letting the rest fall down across your chin and chest. Steve didn’t kiss you at that moment. He consumed you, engulfed you with his mouth, greedily taking in everything you had to offer. 
You were an instrument, and he was the musician, releasing one string to play with the other. With a loud pop, he let go of your mouth, licking a long stripe down your neck and nibbling at the shell of your ear. “Mine,” he roared, one of his hands moving to your center.
“Yours,” you confirmed, eyes misty with lust and heart lost in the haze of Steve’s ardor. “I’m yours,” you barely managed to whisper before you cut yourself off with a loud yell. Your head hit the pillow, your body forced down by the weight of Steve’s palm on your stomach. You felt something enter your drenched pussy, seething itself to one side. You breathed in deeper now that your mouth had been free of the champagne’s grasp. 
You winced, something else entering the right side of your pussy. Steve played with your clit, easing the discomfort. As the pain ebbed and passion rose, you quickly figured out what had Steve done: he’d put Ben Wa balls inside of you.
“You’re such a perfect little dove, Y/N. Letting me do anything and everything I want to do with you, knowing I’ll make you feel so good. Make you feel so perfect.”
“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, restraints rattling in harmony. “Yes, Captain. You make me feel so good.”
Steve smirked, and you just knew it from when he cupped your breasts and covered them with his mouth. “Just as you make me.”
He pulled your tits apart, and you hopped that meant he was going to fuck you. To fuck the brains out of you and the desire that’s nestled deep within your core. But of course, a super soldier like Steve wouldn’t be done yet. You didn’t know how much time had passed, whether it was an hour or an eon, but time always seemed inconspicuous when Steve was involved.
“Do this one little thing for me, baby doll. And I promise, I will let your pretty princess pussy milk my cock.”
“Anything,” you replied. Steve kissed you then, short but passionate. He pulled back and gave you one more peck before you felt him squeeze your tits once more, this time putting his dick between them. “Oh God. Oh God, Steve!”
“You like taking my cock any way you can, little dove,” he stated matter-of-factly, thrusting himself in the space between your tits and toying with your nipples at the same time. “You like having me as yours. Being the only woman in the world who can take my cock in a dozen different ways. The only woman who I can paint with my cum.”
“Steve,” you mewled loudly and sinfully. His movements, your thoughts, and the added pressure of the Ben Wa balls deep inside of you did so little to appease your heat. You cried and cried, moaning louder than any porn star in existence. And when you felt Steve grunt in pleasure, you gave it to him.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he cursed when you spat at his dick, drool dripping down your lips and mixing with precum. “You’re so shamelessly beautiful like this. My favorite piece of art.”
He thrust faster, lifting one breast and lowering the other to create an earth-shattering friction that left his dick twitching by your mouth. You knew what was coming, and you didn’t care whether Steve would allow your release or not. You opened your mouth, counting down his brisk breaths. He grunted twice, moaned once, and nestled his head in your neck to bite down on your shoulder. He was coming. So, you opened your mouth and took as much as you could while the rest of him mesmerizingly decorated your face and chest.
Steve released your tits, but the pressure in your core only barely subsided. He kissed your forearms, wet lips trailing your hands until he reached your wrists. Finally, after so much waiting, he released your hands and untied the blindfold. You squinted at the invasive light. Steve took this as a chance to kiss your eyelids, thumb caressing the curve of your mouth. “You’ve been so good to me, little dove. I think it’s time to get your reward. Would you lay on your stomach for me?”
You opened your eyes, seeking the warmth of his irises. “Uh-huh,” was all that you said before Steve helped you to the position he wanted. He unclipped your bra and slowly discarded your thong. Your pussy clenched, and he kissed your ass cheek when he noticed. “I’ll give you everything you need and more, my Y/N.”
Steve reached out for a pillow, placing it on your pelvis. “Stevie, please. I can’t wait anymore. Please, baby.”
“Don’t beg, little dove,” Steve told you while moving your hair to the side and positioning himself above you. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m yours. Take all of me.” 
You whimpered, teary eyes looking at him to relieve you of your ache. Steve immediately moved his tip along your folds to collect your essence. Yearning for you as much as you yearned for him, he began to slowly sheath himself inside of you. You cried out at the sheer size of him, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. 
Steve inserted himself slowly, bottoming out with a deep, guttural moan. “Fuck,” you breathed, grinding your hips against his—the friction amplifying his passion and yours. The Ben Wa balls intensified your lust, making you feel full and empty all at once. 
Slowly, he started to move. His thrusts were sharp and deep, reflecting his need for you. But the more you moaned, the more he faltered, digging his dick further inside you. “You feel so good,” he admitted, knowing this position was a favorite of yours. You both had quickly discovered that it made for the best sex—giving Steve a clear route to your g-spot and an earth-shattering orgasm.
“More,” you demanded, seeking out his unbridled hunger. “Please, more!” You wanted to feel him lose control inside of you. You adored feeling him lose control inside of you. Steve obliged, thrusting in and out of you at a maddening pace, deeply embedding himself within your heat. “Fuck, Steve. Fuck!” you cried, his balls hitting your skin, adding to the lewdness of the scene.
“Tell me I can go faster,” Steve almost begged. You tilted your head, finding him with eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration. There was a thin layer of sweat on his face, and you sought his hand to interlace your fingers, finding ways to mold into each other further. “Tell me I can ravage you. Tell me that I can give you all of me, Y/N.”
You squeezed his hand, and he reciprocated your touch. His thrusts were on the precipice of control, as were his actions, this close to tipping over the edge. He had taken your neck hostage in his large veiny hands, thrusting his tongue inside your mouth in tandem with his dick inside your pussy. “Lose control,” you told him. “Lose yourself in me, Captain.”
And lose himself he did. His thrusts became irregular, and it was hard to tell where exactly his hands were on your skin. They were squeezing your breasts, roaming your stomach, tightly pressing against your ass. He was everywhere. You looked up at the ceiling, salivating and burying your face in the mattress at the beautiful portrait you and Steve painted together. You both moaned louder than ever before, the cameras eagerly commemorating your actions. 
“Steve, I’m so close,” you warned him when he kept on repeatedly hitting your g-spot. His response came in the form of short but sweet-sounding kisses planted from your collarbone to your neck. He nibbled on the shell of your ear, licking the skin there and sucking on it.
“Cum, little dove,” he said huskily. “Cream my cock.”
You moved faster against his dick, taking all of him in until you collapsed in on yourself, every part of you stealing Steve’s affection. You clenched hard against his dick, feeling yourself squirt and cream his cock. It didn’t take him seconds before he exploded inside of you, emptying his load for the third time with a scream of your name. He didn’t relent, though. His sporadic movements picked up again. At this point, you were far too lost in the haze of your unabashed engagements to notice. It didn’t take you long to feel another orgasm building up.
You were about to warn Steve when he flipped you over on your back, dick salaciously pounding into your pussy. Determination itched on his brows, and undiluted want lined his irises. He put his hand on your mouth, and you wailed, back arching, pussy squirting (again. How is this even possible?), and your entire surrounding collapsing on itself.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?” you heard a high-pitched scream. Too far gone in the throes of passion, you weren’t aware that Tony had opened the door, leading Pepper inside the room. But oh, Steve did. Judging by the smirk, he had heard them coming in.
“Do I really need to explain to you the birds and the bees, Tony?” he mocked, securing the sheets around you both and hiding you from view. His dick twitched inside of you, making it harder for you to breathe.
Tony looked furious. “What I need to you to explain, you ungrateful ass, is what are you doing in this room?
Steve arched an eyebrow. “Procreating,” he answered. You had to cover your mouth and hide behind him so as not to laugh. You could barely move from all the previous activities, and Steve’s dick inside of you, trapped between your overused pussy and the Ben Wa balls, wasn’t really helping the situation. “What are you doing here? Is that why you made comments about Y/N’s ass? Were you hoping to watch us or something?”
“OH MY GOD.”
“Pepper. No, I swe—”
“Is that your idea of making it up to me? Watching Y/N and Steve go at it. Tony—”
“Absolutely not! Do I look like I have a grandfather kink or something?”
“Then, why are we in this room?”
“Well, I was hoping we could engage in—”
“ENGAGE? With Steve and Y/N??”
“NO. I don’t even know what they’re doing here!”
“What every two consenting adults do,” you added with a raspy voice. Tony’s expression was almost as good as the sex you just had. He was utterly dumbfounded, desperately raking his brain to persuade Pepper that this wasn’t what she thought she was. “Nice costume, Pep. I’m sorry. We were told there was a surprise waiting for us for the emotional trauma caused by your genius playboy.”
“Yeah,” Pepper exhaled. She was dressed in what you assumed was an Asgardian dress, and you felt guilty to have ruined her night. “Well, it was a surprise for all of us. I’m sorry on behalf of the idiot playboy.”
Pepper glared at Tony, heels digging into his shoes. He cursed, his frustrations matching hers. “Pepper,” he begged breathlessly. But she was already gone. “I’m getting you two back for this. I swear.”
“No, Tony. We will not send you a copy of our sex tape,” you teased, purposely raising your voice. You swore Tony’s arc reactor was going to malfunction.
“I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING. PEPPER, I SWEAR. SHE’S LYING!!”
And with that, he left, leaving you and Steve hysterically laughing. He kissed you breathlessly, hands holding your face like you were the most precious thing in his life. “Halloween wasn’t that bad.”
“No. I kind of like this house now, too.”
“Me too, dove. I love every place I make happy memories there with you.” And happy memories you continued to make with Tony and Pepper’s squabble long lost in the background.
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I'm going to hell for this.
You can also find my work on AO3. 🤍
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Playroom
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Kinktober 2023 - BDSM Absolutely NSFW, adults only. Warning: all kinds of BDSM play.
Summary: Loki is led to a playroom on Sakar.
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You paused, seeing if the dark-haired Asgardian followed. Loki trailed you, careful to do so without being noticed by any of the Grandmaster’s party-goers. You led him down a hall with decorative paint of garish burnt orange and a bright citron green. He sipped his wine, seeming to enjoy the slow-motion chase. Working his way into the Grandmaster’s good graces and Sakar society proved to be tedious and most trying. This was more to his mischievous liking.
You disappeared behind a solid black door. It made him stop.
He stepped closer and it slid open. Loki’s head tilted at the sound of leather against skin and moans. They were not cries of fear. One eyebrow creeped up. He entered.
The dim room at the end of the hall was filled with comfortable sofas, benches with naked people strapped down, and a center stage where a man brutally fucked a woman who was tied and hanging from the ceiling. The corner of Loki’s mouth tipped up.
“Delightful.” Loki muttered to himself.
You paused at an alcove entrance, making sure you had Loki’s eye before slipping inside. Waiting until his tall, lithe frame filled the doorway, you pulled the stays of your robe, allowing it to fall to the ground and expose your naked flesh. You slipped onto the black leather chair with an invitation smile.
Loki tugged the heavy velvet curtain closed. You didn’t care if he left it open, but something about him wanting you all to himself made your cunt clench. He stalked over, taking your right hand in both of his. His touch was cool, gentle, but electric. He brought your palm to his mouth, kissing it. Without a word, Loki moved your hand to the restraint and locked it in place. You watched his face as he did the same with your other hand.
“This is delightful, Pet.” Loki purred, leaning forward to run his nose along the length of yours. “But I want to hear it. Are you submitting to me?”
“Yes, sir.” You breathed. It was the first words you’d spoken to the dark stranger.
He palmed your breasts, massaging and feeling their weight. “I am Loki, God of Mischief.”
His fingers pinched your nipples hard, icy cold shocked your nerves. “Oh, my god!”
“That’s better.” He chuckled darkly. Loki bent and brought your ankle to his mouth kissing it before folding your leg into your side. Suddenly, with a shimmer of green, silk rope bound your leg in the bent position, secured to your torso. He did the same on the other side, leaving you splayed open before him. “Lovely.”
Along the wall hung a myriad of tools and toys. You watched him study the options. He appeared so calm, but the tenting of his silk trousers betrayed his true state. Even hidden beneath the fabric, you could tell he was greatly endowed. You found your mouth watering at the thought of wrapping your lips around him.
Loki fingered a strap. A wicked grin crossed his face before he brought it down across the back of your thighs. You whined at the sting. He struck again, harder, across your ass. You gasped. His cool fingers slid between your folds.
“Mmm. Responsive.” He licked his finger.
He smacked you again, even harder. Loki delighted in the reddening of your skin and smell rising from your sex. He lowered his head to taste you. His tongue circled your clit, making your hips buck into his face.
Loki tsked. “Don’t get demanding.”
You saw something bring a wicked gleam to his eyes. He pulled a lever and the back of the chair gave way, leaving you on your back with your legs in the air. Loki grinned as he brought the strap down across your ass again before he pulled you lower so you were right at the edge of the chair. More ropes appeared tying you to the table.  Finally, Loki shortened the platform under you so your head hung over the edge.
“That’s better.” He purred.
You couldn’t move. You wanted to beg him to touch you. You knew he would. The waiting was torture.
Loki’s cool hands massaged your breasts. He leaned forward, taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. You gasped at a sharp bite. The pain didn’t fade as he stood. You lifted your head to see a golden clamp locked tight on your hard nipple. You moaned.
“Like that?”
“Yes, sir.” You sighed. Loki slapped your cunt hard. You cried out. “Yes! Yes, my god.”
“Mmm. Better.” He took your other nipple into his mouth, leaving behind a golden clamp. Loki walked around you, admiring the view. He slid two fingers into your desperate cunt.
“Please.” You whined.
He huffed a chuckle, before his slick fingers circled the tight opening of your ass. Your groan turned to a gasp when cool liquid poured over you. The oily liquid warmed, making you want to squirm. A flash of green light had you lifting your head again. Loki held a gold plug capped with a bright green jewel. He teased your opening with the cool metal. His thumb played with your clit until you were panting.
At once, he slapped your clit and pushed in the plug. You cried out again, only to have it end in a delighted moan. The toy was thick and heavy, set deep. It felt amazing. Loki walked to your head, his long cock in his left hand. You watched as he waved his right hand. The toy thrummed with a powerful vibration.
You gasped and Loki pushed his cock into your open mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you relaxed your jaw and rubbed against him with your tongue. He growled as he pushed, seeing how deep you could take him.
He groaned. It was intoxicating. You hips strained against the ropes, tension growing low. Your mouth watered and you hummed against his cock. His hand closed around your throat, but not enough to cut off your air. “Look at you, Pet. Such a beautiful mess.”
He stepped back, leaving you gasping. “Do you think you deserve to be fucked?”
“Yes, my god, Loki.” You looked up through tearing eyes. “Please.”
“Not yet.” He turn, and in a shower of green light, his clothes disappeared. You whined. Wanting his skin against yours. Loki pulled at the clamps on your nipples, making you cry out. His fingers slid down your skin, over your stomach, and along the inside of your thighs. A sharp zap sent a jolt of pain through your leg. You gasped. Loki wiggled his sparking fingers at you, a wicked grin on his face.
His hands continued to explore, shocking your thighs, your feet, your stomach. When he zapped your labia, you screamed. Before you could take a breath, Loki spanked your ass hard. Two fingers curled into your cunt and pumped hard. It was sudden, fast, and violent. You snapped like a band, your orgasm hitting hard.
“Fuck! Loki!”” You screamed.
Just as your breath returned, he was pushing into you – stretching and filling you. The size and weight of the plug made taking his size a stretch. You could feel the thrum of the toy change pace as Loki began to pump in and out, going deeper with each stroke.
“Oh god,” you whined. Light-headed and sex drunk, you gave yourself over to the sensation.
“More?”
“Mmm’r”
The pain in your nipples increased as something pulled on them. Loki fucked into you hard. His ice cold thumb rubbed hard against your clit. Your whole body began to shake.
Loki groaned. His voice went low, dangerous. “Tell me you want more.”
“M-more.”
The back of chair snapped up, curling you towards Loki. The angle changed, his cock slamming hard into you. He took a handful of your hair in his left hand, pulling your head back hard. His teeth locked onto the junction of your neck.
You came apart, flooded over his cock, shaking uncontrollably.
Loki growled, a satisfied ‘yes’ and his hips moved even faster. Drown in sensations, you took the pounding, riding the sensations, losing yourself. At some point, you felt his body lock as he found his own release. Little else made sense.
Warmth moved over your skin. Soft and wet. You felt it on your arms, torso, sex, and leg. Something smooth followed. It was like swimming in silk.
You opened your eyes to find yourself curled on Loki’s lap. You were both in a deep sofa in a quiet corner of the club. He wrapped you in a giant dark green silk blanket. His soft lips brushed against your temple.
“Are you prepared for water or food? Maybe something else to drink? You should have something, my Pet.”
You cuddled into his embrace more. “Water, and honey tarts.”
He smiled. “Whatever you like.” Loki waved over a server and ordered water, wine and honey tarts.
You noticed how fresh he smelled, how fresh you smelled. Bringing a heavy hand up to touch your hair, you expected it to be wet, but it wasn’t.
Loki noted the frown on your face. “Are you hurting? I healed the bite and the bruises I could see.”
“What?” You realized for the first time that beyond the mental fuzziness, you did not feel any of the normal physical soreness. “No. Not sore. Did we bathe?”
“Not in water.” Loki dipped his head low and whispered in your ear, “Just a little magic.”
A tray of drinks and food was delivered. Loki held a crystal glass to your lips as you sipped.
“I did not expect you to take care of me.”
“I take care of my Pets.”
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maximotts · 2 years
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。. 。 : ♱ * 𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔰' 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟸
Yayy masterlist time! I hope you're all as excited by the requests I picked as I am! It really was soooo hard to choose and I got so many amazing ideas that I just couldn't commit to doing them all in just one month. But even if you don't see yours on here, that doesn't mean I'm not saving it for later! Each prompt will be posted in the given week in October, some will be longer than others buuutt y'all will just have to wait and see which ones.
Oct. 19: No longer doing Kinktober because of bullshit on here, might upload the rest of these after October, but we’ll see
: ♱ * 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓞𝓷𝓮: 𝑀𝒶𝓂𝒶
━ ☽ ☾ King Valkyrie// sworn duty ━ ☽ ☾ dark SW!Wanda// paradise found ━ ☽ ☾ Doll House AU mommy!Wanda// early bird
: ♱ * 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓣𝔀𝓸: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝑜𝓇𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑅𝑜𝓌
━ ☽ ☾ bottom!sorority!Wanda// dirty little secret ━ ☽ ☾ sorority big sisters!WandaNat// being recorded + face fucking + strap on ━ ☽ ☾ mean bottom!cheerleader Nat// guiding hand
: ♱ * 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮: 𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒
━ ☽ ☾ emo!Wanda// knives + choking ━ ☽ ☾ My Soul to Keep AU angel!Wanda// sensory depravation + wing play ━ ☽ ☾ Leigh Shaw// lingerie kink + begging
: ♱ * 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝑀𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝑀𝑒 𝒟𝑜 𝐼𝓉
━ ☽ ☾ priest's daughter!Wanda// corruption + degradation ━ ☽ ☾ My Soul to Keep AU angel!Wanda// marking + humiliation + cum strap ━ ☽ ☾ Taylor Sloane// Halloween costumes + semi-public sex + begging
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helpinghanikan · 2 years
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Kinktober day 14
Day 14: Love bites/marking (Shang-Chi)
AN: Full disclosure I've been writing his name as Shang shi instead of Shang-chi. I went through and fixed it but IDK how his name works exactly. As in I don't know if he'd be referred to as simply Shang or if it'd be the full Shang-chi. If anyone knows please tell me.
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“I’m not leaving until later. Like, five.” Shang whined when you rolled on top of him.
An alarm had been set for this very reason. So you’d be able to get on top of him before he got up and started moving around. When he started moving around then he would start packing. Before you know it he would be moving out of your place and headed off. You’d be left with nothing but a kiss on the lips.
“I know,”  you say between nips to his neck. “That’s why I wanna get this out of the way before I forget.”
Shang doesn’t ask anymore questions. The man sleeps like the dead so he doesn’t really think much when half awake. Only knowing that you were there and he really liked what you were doing to his neck and shoulders.
Bouncing between sucking and kissing you gently rubbed over his pecks. His stomach. Over his arms with the intent of keeping that soft smile on his face. Humming peacefully when your lips drag up his jaw and to his ear. A little nibble on his lobe before traveling back down to the little spot you’ve been working on.
“Keep that up,” Shang mumbled, a hand resting in your back. “Feels good.”
Now, how could anyone say no to that?
It would take some time before Shang noticed your little project. He’s going to run a hand over his throat and shoulders. Pressing experimentally against them. He’s not going to say anything though. Just like how he won’t admit that he actually likes them.
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st4rymoon · 6 months
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✭ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 ✮
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Warnings: overstimulation, p in v, rough Miguel, mean dom Miguel, bratty reader, creampie, language, rough sex!, hair pulling, impact play, size kink
𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Miguel loved when you got an attitude with him in bed, he thrived on knowing he could turn you into a mess and prove to you that he was the one in control.
He had you pinned onto his chest as he thrusted his hips into you, his cock plunging into your needy pussy in need as your head rested on his shoulder.
You held onto his bicep for dear life as he lifted your head up to look at him “look at you” he hummed as he sloppily kissed you, his behemoth of a body pressed against you and caging you in.
“Th- that’s all you got?” You smiled up at him, purposely teasing and challenging him to be rougher. He scoffed at you, throwing you onto the bed and arching your ass up. His thick hand slapped across your ass, that would leave a mark.
And that’s exactly what he was doing, teaching you a fucking lesson. “Have some fucking manners” he scoffed.
Miguel’s cock slammed into you at a brutal pace, his hand keeping your hips up as he bottomed you out. You gasped as he yanked your hair up and wrapped it in his hand “this good enough?” He hissed.
The wind got knocked out of you as he said it, Miguel’s pace purposely keeping you from talking. You whined with each of his thrusts, you soon came to regret trying to be snarky.
Miguel was an hour in, still fucking you as you neared another orgasm “isn’t this what you asked for huh? Don’t act like you can’t take it anymore” he hissed. You weakly clawed at his chest as he now has you on your back, your slick covering his thighs and lower abdomen.
Your hand fell to your side in defeat as you dumbly bounced on his length “asi se mira más bonita, Calladita.” He hummed as his lips dropped to yours. You sighed while he kissed you sloppily, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and tasting your sweet saliva.
Miguel kept himself from cumming and god did it hurt. But he has too much pride to not prove his point. He could feel himself losing to his needs, his cock throbbing and softly twitching as he fucked you balls deep.
“Mmh- fuck ah- a shit” he hissed as he watched you gushing cum, your pretty face stained with tears but too fucked out to speak or squirm. “That’s I- t that’s fuckk” Miguel’s gruntled moans spilled out as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.
Sweat dripped down his face as a wave of relief washed over him. He was the most vocal you’ve ever heard him, he was hissing and chanting your name out as he rode out his orgasm.
You on the other hand, had too many to count. Your pussy was throbbing and worn out as he softly pulled out of you.
His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his arms while both of you caught your breath. “You ok honey?” He hummed, his voice contrasting from seconds ago. You nodded weakly as you nuzzled into his chest, a deep sigh leaving you as both of you took each others warmth in.
Miguel smiled as you cling your arms around his waist “love you”
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writing-for-marvel · 6 months
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Day 31: Breeding Kink
Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky gets excited by the thought of becoming a father after your honeymoon.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, creampie, daddy kink™️, a teeny tiny bit of angst/self doubt at the start, reader potentially already being pregnant, lots of soft feelings and pure love
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: we are finally at the end of our honeymoon journey 🥹 thank you to everyone who has read any part of this series throughout the past month. I put so much love and effort into this and I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have ❤️ dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋
Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi
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Bucky hands you a glass of your favourite wine, sitting down beside you and placing a protective hand on your thigh.
“To the last night of our honeymoon.” He toasts simply. But he doesn’t need to add anything else - all other praises, different forms of ‘I love you’, and terms of endearment have already been declared to you during the past four weeks.
You didn’t think it was possible, but after the last month, you feel even more loved by Bucky than ever before.
“And to every night of the rest of our lives.” You add before clinking your glass against his. He swirls the liquid around the glass, sniffing the rich scent before taking a substantial sip. Instead, you specifically chose to place your glass down without tasting the wine.
“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” He chuckles in that way where you can’t help but smile at the sound. “No wine tonight? Do you want something else?”
You shake your head playfully, the news you need to disclose dry on the tip of your tongue, but the sparkling adoration in Bucky’s eyes is what gives you the surge of courage to speak the words aloud.
“I’m late.” You announce and you can see the realisation play out in Bucky’s eyes as to the implication of what you’ve just disclosed. “It’s only a few days, it could be anything really - the stress of the wedding, the travel… but it’s probably best to be cautious considering how many times you’ve cum in me over the last month.”
“You think you’re pregnant?” His voice sounds breathless and his strong jaw hangs open, as if in pure shock.
“It’s a possibility...” You trail off, unsure if his reaction is due to certifiable happiness or complete dread. Fear sinks in your stomach like lead - he’s the king of a mafia empire, danger lurks around every corner, and has a long list of enemies who would want nothing more than to murder his entire family in cold blood for revenge.
How could you be so stupid to believe he’d be enthusiastic about bringing a child into that environment?
“Did you not want to be a dad?” Your voice comes out weak, almost trembling, and you can see the concern rise in Bucky’s eyes in the time it takes you to blink. His hands cup your face, tender and loving, as he rests his forehead against yours and looks at you like you’re the only thing that exists in his entire universe.
“You are the love of my life, and there is nothing I want more than for us to create a life from that love. The thought of having a little one who is half me, half the woman I love most in the world… that joy is indescribable.”
Bucky once told you that he could not bear to be the source of your pain, that for him hurting you was akin to torturing himself. He has that same wounded look in his eye right now, as if the mere thought of you fretting about his reaction makes his heart crumble into a thousand pieces.
You kiss him this time, as if you are struggling to breathe and his lips are the only source of oxygen, a desperation to convey he will always be the life force that sustains your existence.
With his strapping hands grabbing into your hips, Bucky lifts you from the couch and walks you backwards towards your bedroom expertly while his tongue dances with yours.
In a haze of passion and lust, Bucky strips the clothes off your body, lips following the soft touch of his hands as garnets get tossed around the room. As the air caresses your bare skin, he gently pulls you closer, eyes roaming your body with a fierce thirst that somehow outshines his usual desire at seeing you naked for him.
Your head is almost dizzy from his intoxicating kiss by the time you’re bare for him and he’s laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing patterns over your stomach as he whispers words of devotion against your soft skin. He doesn’t need to speak them any louder, his whole world is encapsulated in the person laid unclothed and dripping before him.
Rubbing his bulbous tip on your clit, Bucky slowly pushes inside you and then pulls out, slapping your clit again, performing the action over and over until the needy ache between your thighs is almost unbearable. Jolts of pleasure fire up your spine and wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup both of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.
“Daddy, please.” The name slips from your lips before you have the time or mental consciousness to stop it, but Bucky simply smirks in response, satisfied with just how desperate you are for him, and only him.
“Daddy’s going to give you everything darling, just lay back and relax.” He teasingly draws figure eights with the tip of his dick against your clit, capturing your pert nipple in mouth, tongue circling your tender areola, the combination of his stimulation forging a ardent whine from the back of your throat.
Then, without any notice, Bucky pushes himself into you slowly, lovingly.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so tight. You were made for me, just for me.” He growls in your ear when he’s finally fully sheathed within you.
You let your hands drift over the contours of Bucky’s muscular back, drawing him even closer against you as he buries his face in your neck as his hips begin rocking into yours. Having him hold your upper body with such gentleness all the while having his hips rail you into the mattress feels both exquisitely intimate and downright pornographic.
You’re unsure how Bucky manages to be both concurrently, but he always finds a way.
“Sounds like that feels so fucking good for you, baby. Fucking squelching for daddy.” He’s not wrong, the salacious squelch of your walls fills the room along with your lustful moans with every unrelenting, impaling thrust of his cock.
His pelvis rhythmically meets your ass as he lifts your hips, taking you by surprise and pushing your legs back into your body, testing the bounds of your flexibility. From this angle he can’t help but graze your spongy g-spot with each thrust, over and over and over again. You cry out in pleasure, too overwhelmed by the sensations undulating within you, one moment it’s all too much, the next not enough, to realise your fingernails are digging sharply into Bucky’s biceps.
At this point in your relationship Bucky knows your body better than you do, before you have time to recognise that you’re right at the precipice of a fast approaching orgasm, his nimble fingers locate your throbbing clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in that way that makes a wanton sob bubble up in your throat.
“Look at me baby - keep your eyes on daddy when he makes you cum.” Those dazzling steel blue eyes are your downfall, those same sparkling eyes which have always regarded you with an unparalleled desire and reverence, even from the very first time you met. Those beautifully unique eyes you have memorised the patterns of, committed to memory where each fleck of gold resides and how they seem to shine brighter when you’re the object of his gaze. Those same sincere eyes that filled with tears as he watched you say ‘I do’ and feasted on your body in your white wedding gown until he zipped it off you on your wedding night.
Your high hits you with a magnitude that shakes your entire body, eyes rolling back and has your toes curling. The rest of the world crumbles around you, the only thing your brain can comprehend in this life shattering moment is that Bucky is mercilessly pounding into you, pushing you through a climax that feels like a million shooting stars all exploding at once.
Bucky stills as you tremble around him, coming down from your high with sweat on your brow and a dazed look in your eyes that he can’t seem to get enough of.
His kiss is soft and sweet, but completely life ruining all the same. It takes you back to the first kiss you ever shared, how much outpouring of love you felt when his lips touched yours and you knew for certain you wouldn’t kiss anyone but him ever again.
Bucky’s hips start moving again, slowly at first, building a sensual rhythm of deep strokes which has you biting into his shoulder to prevent yourself from moaning obscenities. You can’t tell where he stops and you begin, your bodies moving together in the heat of passion, euphoria covering you both like a blanket of pure, warm sunshine.
“Gonna breed you.” He growls in your ear with that inflection in his tone where you can tell he’s just as close as you are to coming undone. “Gonna give you a baby. Our baby.”
His words satisfy some primal part of your brain that’s in control now, you swing your legs around Bucky’s waist so he stays exactly where you want him when he cums. His arms frame your head and he gazes down at you as if he’s trusting you to hold his fragile heart in the palm of your hand.
“Give it to me. Please daddy, please give me all your cum.” Your fingernails scratch down his back as Bucky’s cock grazes over the spongy spot on the inside of your walls which makes you see stars. “Put a baby in me.”
Your words only spur him on, thrusts growing sloppy, faltering slightly with a guttural groan reverberating from his chest that is the beginning of the end for you, the pebble which breaks the dam, your release flooding through you in crashing, torrential waves.
“Fuck, Bucky, I’m cumming!” You announce and through his panting, Bucky lets out a satisfied hum as you walls clench down around him, triggering his own release right alongside yours. You swear you’ve ascended to heaven, floating on a cloud of pure bliss as the ecstasy of your high radiates like a rising sun within your core.
Bucky stays hovering above you as you both catch your breath, whimsical smiles tickling the sides of your mouths as you simply gaze at each other, the only thought running through your mind being how fucking lucky you are to have someone who loves you like Bucky does, someone who will always put your wants and needs before their own because ensuring your happiness is their happiness.
“Can’t let any go to waste.” Bucky comments as he pulls out of you, fingering his release back inside you so that none spills out, flicking your puffy and sensitive clit as he does so, sending jolts firing up your spine that makes you squirm.
“Well, if you weren’t pregnant before, you’re likely to be now.” Bucky chuckles lightly, his hand brushing lovingly over your stomach as he lays beside you. “And if not, then we’ll just keep trying. We are pretty good at the act of baby making.”
“We certainly are.” You turn your head and capture his swollen lips in a raw, delicate kiss that can convey more meaning than mere words can. “I can’t wait to go back home and spend the rest of our lives together, maybe with some little feet pattering on the hardwood floors too.”
You know Bucky well enough by now to recognise the genuinely content and blissful smile spreading over his features. You crave for him to look at you like this for the remainder of your life, for him to feel so full of adoration for you that he simply cannot be anything other than blissfully happy in your presence. If he loves you even half as much as you love him, you’re positive your love story will be one for the history books.
“Te iubesc [I love you].” He places a kiss to your hairline, and pulls you closer in his embrace where you always feel at home. You’ve never felt as loved and cherished as you do in this moment right here, with your darling husband who you know would go to the ends of the world to ensure you and your possible future child are safe.
“Not as much as I love you.” There’s a sparkle in his ocean coloured eyes as you say these words, a depth of devotion you could drown in.
“That’s impossible.”
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💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋
Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @Inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan
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Day 13 of Kinktober: Groping
Character/s: Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: kinda public, groping, no mix of degradation and praise.
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You were cooking dinner in the kitchen, wearing only an oversized shirt and underwear when Wanda comes in and suddenly pushes you against the counter as her arms wrap around your waist from behind you.
“You gonna be good, pretty girl?” she asks, leaning in close to you. Her hands move lower to grope your ass and you let out a loud gasp in shock at her haste. “Please” you mumble as she moves closer, “please touch me, Wanda.”
The words come out as begging but you didn’t care as she grasped at your flesh through your underwear. “Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Wanda praises, “don’t worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
She pulls away just to slap your ass which causes you to let out a string of moans. “You make such pretty sounds, my love” Wanda continues, “I can’t wait to hear more of your pretty little sounds.”
Your moans only grew more stronger as she continued groping your ass. “More, please, I need you” you say in eagerness. “Of course, sweetheart” Wanda agrees, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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jaehyunsbreadbasket · 2 years
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Kinktober '22 Day 9: Smart Hulk
Prompt: Shapeshifting/Monster Fucking
Word Count: 531
Synopsis: Bruce's partner begged him to fuck them in his Hulk form. They learn that they should be careful what they wish for.
Consists of: Dom!SmartHulk, AFABSub!Reader, Size kink, Monster fucking essentially (Smart Hulk to Regular Hulk), Brief pain from the dick being too big, Finger sucking, Brief gagging, Reader gets fucked dumb
I had seriously overestimated my endurance, and the size of my pussy, that was grossly clear to me now. Here I lay, legs spread as wide as possible on the bed, Bruce's big, green cock squeezing inside of me. I had been begging Bruce for days to fuck me in his Hulk form, craving the feeling of a huge dick stretching me out, the sight of his huge, viridescent body hovering above me. To be honest it hurt like hell, but at the same time, it felt too good to want him to stop.
My pussy clenches around him without my control, as if it had a mind of it's own, as if it was trying to push him out. The intelligent monster lets out a big, boisterous moan at the sensation, but notices the twisted expression on my face, "I told you that you wouldn't be able to handle it sweetie. Now look at you, I'm only a quarter into your cunt and you're already spasming around me," Bruce's large verdant hand strokes my face in a way I'm sure is meant to be soft, but the weight of his hand as well as his cock just feels so heavy.
"I c-can handle it. It feels good," and it really does, the stretch is absloutly delicious, and when I look beyond the pain, the feeling of his cock repeatedly hitting my cervix is toe curling.
The way that Bruce is rocking into me, gigantic body making me hit the headboard with every thrust. He stares at me intensely with his glass covered eyes, his lips twisting into a smile.
"W-want your fingers" I whimper to Bruce, he stabilizes his enormous figure before he allows one of his massive digits to slip between my lips. I immediately gag as he hits the back of my throat, slob already drooling around my mouth.
"FUCK!" Bruce roars out, a voice not entirely his own booming around the room. He begins to piston his hips into me now, his whole cock still not fitting inside me, the bulge popping out of my stomach showing he's as far in as he can go. My whole body shakes as he loses control, thrusting into me relentlessly. The sounds that come out of his mouth are loud and angry, I can see the shift in his eyes, I'm not being fucked by Bruce anymore.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I scream after The Hulk pulls his fingers out of my mouth, takes off Bruce's glasses and smashes them, throwing them across the room. It feels like his cock has gotten even bigger and my body is beginning to feel numb. I'm so close, and at this point my mind is completely checked out.
"Cumming...cumming...cum-" and suddenly, I'm seeing white, my pussy convulsing around the colossal, inhumane, phallus inside of me.
The Hulk lets out another thunderous sound, and abruptly, I feel even more full than I did before. Huge ropes of hot semen painting my insides, "B-Bruce..." I call out.
"No. No Bruce," The Hulk responds to me.
I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off, hoping that Bruce will return by the time I wake up.
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Prompt from: @waterkelpies
My Kinktober 2022 Masterlist 🎃
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sytoran · 6 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader
despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.
cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie
word count. 2063
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.
The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”
You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”
“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.
The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.
You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.
Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.
As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.
Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.
“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.
The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.
You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.
“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.
You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 
Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.
She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.
The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 
However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.
That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.
Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.
Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.
“Natasha.”
Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.
Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.
“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 
When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.
The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.
Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.
The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.
You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.
She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?
“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.
Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.
A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.
Not comfort, then. What was it?
Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.
Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 
Oh. 
The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.
You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 
“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 
Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.
The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.
It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.
-----
If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.
The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 
Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.
“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.
You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.
“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 
It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.
“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.
You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 
“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 
When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.
Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.
An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.
The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 
Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 
You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.
Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.
The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 
You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.
This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.
You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…
“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.
“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.
Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.
With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 
“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.
Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.
Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.
Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 
-----
The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.
Shit. Was it my transformation?
You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—
To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.
She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.
“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”
“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”
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finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Day 16: DP in 1 hole - Mafia!Stucky
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Summary: You were adamant about proving Steve wrong and doing something you’ve never done before.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome (f/m/m), double penetration in one hole, size kink, dom/sub, sir kink, masturbation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulated, teasing, kinda mean!steve, discussion of safe words, praise kink, creampie
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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“Just…Just do it; I can’t take it, I promise. Please, sir!” Each word you sobbed seemed to stumble into the next as you begged so quickly, wiping your tear-stained face on the muscled shoulder. The man beneath ran his fingers over your scalp to try and calm you, ignoring the fact that his cock was still pressed so deep inside of your cunt that he was knocking into your cervix with each breath, let alone thrust. Bucky was holding you tightly from where you lay draped over his muscular body, both of your chests rubbing against one another, and from this position, it meant that the Brunette gang member could look over your shoulder to the other man on the bed.
“Oh baby girl, you sound so pretty when you’re begging like that”, Steve mocked with an air of arrogance, loving that your reactions were becoming more pathetic. One of his big hands was wrapped around his cock, pleasuring himself as he squeezed your arse cheek with the other. He had the perfect view from where he knelt in the centre of the bed, with Bucky and you led out in front of him; even though your back was facing him, he could see where your face was turned to the side, see the tear tracks down your cheek.
He couldn’t blame you for having this reaction; this had been going on for hours, and you’d been so good for him, but sometimes he and Bucky wanted to play, push you to your limits. In doing so, you became increasingly more pathetic and submissive, whimpering and needy for more until either Steve or Bucky enough was enough.
“You’ve done so well for us, Doll”, Bucky praised with a smirk as he kissed the back of your head, which, in turn, earned an eye roll from Steve as he knew his best friend was just trying to give you all the compliments so you’d cling to him more. “How many times has she orgasmed for us now, Stevie? 5? 6?”
Steve couldn’t help himself as he spanked your arse cheek, watching the jiggle of the muscle and the way you initially cried and jolted at the action but then moaned and perked your arse up to receive another one. Bucky also groaned at the impact as your walls had clamped down around his cock so tight that he almost came. Steve chuckled under his breath at the glare from Bucky, who had been trying to edge himself for the last half an hour and knowing what Steve was like, he wanted to see just how good his will strength was.
“She’s came so many times that she’s made a mess over the bed, haven’t you, Baby? And yet, you still want more? I don’t think you can handle any more, especially both of us”. Steve licked his bottom lip as he eyed your pretty hole, even wondering himself if this was even possible; yes, he’d seen it on porn, but two cocks in one hole? “We’re so big anyway, Honey; there’s no way you’ll be able to take both me and Bucky.” Steve taunts and earns even more of a desperate cry, more tears streaking down your cheeks.
“Pl-Please, Sir! Just try; I can take you both; I know I can”. To try and prove some kind of a point that you were not done with the fucking, you pushed yourself up slightly on Bucky’s chest and began to ride his cock. However, you were exhausted, and your cunt was puffy and sensitive, so it was more of a gentle roll than a harsh ride.
“That’s it, feel so good on top of me, Sweetheart”, Bucky groans, both hands on your hips to try and guide you slightly, completely forgetting about the double penetration idea for the moment all thoughts turned to the steadily moving wet warmth that moved around his shaft.
Steve’s arm wrapped around your chest from behind so that his hand secured around your jaw, pulling you flush against him; his mouth dipped to the shell of your ear, teasing with his teeth and causing a gasp to escape your lips. “If it hurts, what are you going to do?” he asks, his voice full of authority that was usually just saved for when he was at work.
“I’ll say my safe word”, you immediately answer, clarity clearing in your mind as your movements slowed, knowing that this discussion was necessary.
“Good girl. Now if my cock doesn’t fit next to Bucky’s, you’ll continue to be good, aren’t you, and not complain. We’ll just continue playing like we have been, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir, I understand”, you say without any sort of whimper or stutter noted as your eyes finally blinked open. Bucky smiled warmly up at you, which caused your hole to clench at just how handsome he was, but before he could react, Steve was releasing his hold on your face and pressing against your shoulders until you were lying flat against Bucky again.
You stopped rolling your hips and waited patiently for the next steps, which were Steve’s fingers. He didn’t need to use lube just yet as the blonde leader gathered some of your fluid from where you and Bucky were connected onto his index and middle finger. Ever so gently, he ran his fingers around the rim of your hole, near your perineum, as this was the area presented to him and where he was hoping to slip his cock into eventually.
With Bucky still inside, Steve ended up teasing him and stroking the two of you. Adding extra pressure, Steve slipped his fingers into your hole, following Bucky’s length until he reached the first knuckle. You were snug around his fingers as he managed to push in a couple of centimetres further until nearly to the second knuckle.
Steve pressed his hand on your lower back as he observed you taking a deep breath to keep all the muscles between your legs relaxed, which made it easier for the man to continue to stretch you.
“That’s amazing, Baby, you’re taking my fingers so well. Look at that! Taking two of my fingers and Bucky’s cock, aren’t you our special girl”. Steve’s praises helped to keep you relaxed as you smiled and warmed at the words he was saying like he was stroking the happy part of your mind.
Bucky bit his lip at the sensation, which was difficult to explain. As Steve stretched your hole, it made everything feel tighter, and just as he pushed deeper, he also had the stimulation of Steve touching the sensitive part of the underside of his cock.
“Just going to stretch you a little bit first, then I’ll add another finger”, Steve explained as his eyes trained between your face and pussy. He moved both of his fingers in semi-circles, trying to see how far your walls were willing to stretch.
Holding back a groan, he could feel how much you were trying not to clench and knew if they did succeed with this, he would lose his mind. He just hoped he didn’t cum as soon as he penetrated, which was a similar thought that Bucky had.
Scissoring his fingers around Bucky’s cock, Steve shifted closer so that a third finger could be added alongside the other two. You desperately moaned in Bucky’s chest, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving nail crevices in his one fleshed shoulder.
Steve remained still for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust before moving in and out slowly. “Fuck Steve!” It wasn’t you who moaned but Bucky who had closed his eyes to try and concentrate on not cuming before the action had even begun. It felt so good to have his cock inside your puffy tight hole, but then to have fingers as well stroking along his shaft was unlike anything he’d experienced before.
Looking over your shoulder, you took a deep breath and tried to sound as confident as possible, the tears having now stopped as you remained calm. “Please, Steve, I can take it, just try”.
Steve ignored your pleas to hurry up and continued to stretch your pussy, twisting and spreading his fingers to give his cock extra space. Even though he was three fingers deep, he and Bucky were not exactly small in the cock division. This was why this fucking session had been going on for so long because they spent so much precious time making sure you were adequately stretched to take one of their cocks, let alone two at the same time.
There had been plenty of times where one of them had been fucking your cunt and the other in your arse but nothing to the extent of two cocks in one hole.
You sighed as Steve finally pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube, coating his cock thoroughly before wiping a generous blob onto your pussy. Moving his entire body closer, Steve began to prepare for the insertion.
“Remember: Safeword”, Steve said loudly enough that you glanced over your shoulder and nodded. “Take a deep breath for me, Baby”.
You did as instructed, filling your lungs to the brim with oxygen before slowly breathing out of your mouth, which is when you felt considerable pressure between your legs.
As Steve was so thoroughly lubed, his cock nearly slid in the wrong direction, so he had to push the tip of his cock hard against Bucky’s shaft and then knock his hips with a deep thrust. At first, he wasn’t sure he would get it into your pussy with how much resistance he was met with, but then it nudged beneath the rim and was welcomed into the dangerously tight warmth of your cunt.
You had expected it to hurt in some way, but to your happy surprise, all it initially felt like was the deep burn that came with stretching your cunt for a cock, just with increased intensity. It was an odd sensation to experience, like you were going to break at the first stretch, but as your body relaxed and more of his cock pushed in, everything was just thigh highest level of pleasure imaginable.
The screaming moan you released echoed around the bedroom as Steve’s cock penetrated until he, too, was caressing your cervix with the mushroom tip of his dick.
Bucky's hands were massaging over your arse, hips and back as he tried to keep himself under control. Having Steve’s cock moving against his but pressing hard with the limited room, the difference in textures between your gummy walls and the solidness of the shaft. The tightness was another experience, almost like a pretty vice trapping his cock to perfection.
“Holy shit, Baby! That’s it; stay nice and relaxed for us. I'm just going to let you get adjusted for a moment.” Seeing his and Bucky’s lengths fitting into one hole, Steve was mesmerised. He even contemplated reaching for his phone and taking a picture to show you the wondrous thing your body could achieve.
With your cunt stretched so far, Steve and Bucky were adamant that they could feel your pulse fluttering through your walls. Not only this, but you’d squirted over Bucky from just the stretch.
You knew that you were too squished between them both to take over right now and ride their cocks and also the exercise that your body was going through; you weren’t sure you even had the energy to push off of Bucky’s chest to find a good position.
Thankfully, Steve was more than prepared to fuck for the three of you. His two meaty hands joined Bucky’s over your hips as he ever so carefully began to rock his hips in the smallest of motions so that only an inch of his cock was moving in and out of your cunt.
As more of his length edged out before being pushed in, your entire body seemed to just give up with the tension running through it with the anticipation of the double penetration. Your limbs went slack, as well as your jaw, as your mouth opened in a perfect circle to allow the animalistic grunts and moans just to seep out.
“You sound so good when you moan like that”, Bucky gasped as he tried to fuck up with Steve, causing your body to jolt with the movements.
Soon, they were both fucking your pussy, Bucky, at a slow pace that allowed his cock to brush over all of the hyper-sensitive nerves of your g-spot and with the pressure of Steve’s cock pushing on him, you could feel every since ridge of Bucky. Steve, on the other hand, was able to fuck you with a bit more intensity, sweat beginning to drip down his temple, but he couldn’t give a shit about that right now, not when his girl was taking him so well. 
“I’m so proud of you, taking both of us so well; you feel so fucking good”. Steve’s voice sounded almost as desperate as your begging did earlier as his eyebrows knitted together with the pleasure taking over his body.
Bucky was watching Steve, feeling his length fucking against his, the tightness of your pussy, the moans you were all sharing; he knew his orgasm was impending. Steve could see this from how Bucky’s hands slackened, and the grunts stopped as he tried to concentrate on not orgasming.
To be truthful, Steve was also near his orgasm, and you’d been in a constant state of cumming since both cocks had slipped inside, the coil in your abdomen tight and fluttering with involuntary contractions around their cocks. Releasing the hold on your hip, Steve reached over to grab Bucky's jaw, forcing him to look up at his boyfriend and boss.
“Cum for me, Bucky, I know you want to. Let’s fill our girl up together, yeah? Make her drip with our cum, that’s it, fucking cum for me, Bucky”.
Steve tightened his hold on Bucky’s face and slammed into you with an increased pace that your eyes rolled back just in time for Bucky to cum, hard.
“Fuck! Holy-Shit-” Bucky cried out, his body withering beneath you like he wanted to arch his back but couldn’t be with you on top. You could feel the wetness and warmth of his seed as he spilt deep inside you.
“Good boy, look so pretty when you cum. Don’t you think so, Baby?” Steve asked you, but you weren’t paying attention, not when you were deeply lost in pleasure. Steve’s pace increased further as he fucked his way to orgasm a few seconds later. More cum filled your pussy, mixing with Bucky’s as it began to drip out of you. Steve’s head tilted back as he thrust through the orgasm until the shivers ceased, and he could take a minute to catch his breath.
Sitting back on his heels, Steve’s cock slipped out of your cunt first, swiftly followed by Bucky’s, meaning the blonde had the perfect view of your pulsing, gaping hole as it leaked with their seed, dripping out onto the sheets below.
Despite being half asleep due to exhaustion, you managed to whisper, “See, I told you I could do it”.
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maximotts · 2 years
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𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖘' 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
That's right, we're coming into my favorite time of year again, spooky season! And just like last year, I'll be hosting a Kinktober event! I want to make it easier on myself this year, so I'll be limiting the number of requests I choose to fill as well as taking them early to get a head start before October rolls around. The submission period for requests is: today, Sept. 3 through Friday, Sept. 16 If you're new to Kinktober or would like a refresher, this is a month-long event where you can send in requests for any character or AU I write (or one you'd like to see me write) and pick one or two kinks you want your idea to feature! If you're unsure of kinks, I found two prompt lists here and here for y'all to go off of if you're stumped, but feel free to let your creativity run wild! I do have themes for each week titled after some of my favorite horror films as you'll see below and I'll place requests I choose in the week I think fits best. Additionally, I have a few longer fics I'm planning to publish in October so those along with your requests will be put in the masterlist! October 2022's weekly themes are!
𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝟏 ♱ 𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒂
𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝟐 ♱ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑹𝒐𝒘
𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝟑 ♱ 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆
𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝟒 ♱ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑴𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝑴𝒆 𝑫𝒐 𝑰𝒕
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1800jjbarnes · 5 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟒: 𝐂𝐮𝐦 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲/𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐦 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇
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My, My, My
【Synopsis】 : Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.
『W.C』 :  1.94k
-> Genre: Pure Smut. No plot woops.
Paring: Switch/DomLeaning!Steve x Switch/SubLeaning!Reader
[Warnings] : This is messy. Cum eating. Unprotected sex. Making out. Swearing. Multiple orgasms. Dirty talk. Pet names. This is one big sticky mess, hehe.
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List
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Even though he's never shown it, Steve is a sensitive man. In more ways than one. His cock always felt so full, day in, day out and most of the time he had no control over how much of a mess he makes each time he came. He normally can keep it on the down low, fucking his fist night after night to get it all out of his system by the next morning.
He would spend most of his time wishing for more. But alas, he accepted the cards he had been delt. Being from the 40s, he had grown to notice the difference between women back then 'til now. They were all so much for confident, and proud. Not that, thats a bad thing. Its just Steve...he's intimidated.
But then you showed up in his life.
Such a pretty, perfect, shy, little you... he could feel himself be constantly wet. Precum soaked his boxes every time you were around. Your smile, the way the smell of your perfume was the most delectable scent he’d ever had the pleasure of inhaling. Even just the way you walk, or sit, or jump around. When you get shy around him and blush like a little flower... And don't get him start on your laughter... Fuck.
You were a walking sex dream to him and he knew he was done for.
When he first got to finally have you, he was making out with you in the hallway in the compound. The floor that belongs to yours, his and Bucky’s room. But things lasted very short as he had to sprint suddenly away without another word to you making you feel a slight thing of guilt in your gut thinking that you might have caused something wrong, since you weren't the most experienced person...
But in truth, he wasn’t about to look you in the face and tell you he just came in his pants alone just from kissing your plump lips. He felt more embarrassed at the fact you were able to make him come without the need to touch him. It took every fibre in his being not to whine out a shaky deep groan while he felt your lips so desperately on his. He had his hands squeezing your hips a little tighter than before while his cock started to throb painfully in his slacks. He still had to resist the urge to moan out when your tongue laced with his. Making his balls tighten before his cock ultimately started pumping hot ropes of cum, emptying himself in the now soaked fabrics of his underwear.
He turned the corner quickly, as his chest heaved for more air. His body felt like it was on fire, and he hated himself slightly at the fact he had such a short orgasm. He palmed his cock softly, readjusting himself, hitting his head against the wall when it started to twitch again. It took him everything not to say fuck it then and there and pull himself out so he could finish pumping every drop out until he was dry. or better yet, seducing you to help him.
And if kissing was going to be his problem. Then he was afraid of how’d he would handle having you naked for the time in front of him. Would you want to take the lead? Or would you have your legs spread for him to do as he pleased. He wouldn't mind either to be honest.
And the first time he did finally manage to built up the courage to bed you. He didnt expect himself to be lying on your bed while you sat on your knees at the end. Your bit your swollen lip while you eyes his naked form, focusing on his broad, beefy legs that were spread apart wide enough to welcome you inbetween them. He was a sticky mess, cum painted all over the head of his cock, dripping onto his navel deviously. He was wishing for just one ounce of control when you two were making out prior to this, nearling busting his nut when he felt you whimper against him.
God he didnt know how to function, feeling embarrassed about himself but again. He had no idea just how much you loved him like this. Yes, you were a shy sweet thing but behind closed doors. You lived for the pleasure. To please. And the way Stevies cock jumps and aches as he watched you remove each article of clothing. It was a site you revealed in.
The second you were completely bare, his moans would become greater, louder. When you placed your hand on his naked thigh his breath would hitch, balls growing heavier with every breath.
“You okay Stevie?” You cooed, kissing his inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine, the way he tensed and the smell of his delicious natural scent would bring an ache to your soaked cunt, making you squeeze around nothing, needing him desperately.
“I'm fuck...hmngg sensitive..” He tried to tell you, looking at you with pleading eyes while his cock throbbed, torn between needing you to keep touching him and pushing far away from you, fearing he loses control and comes all over your pretty face that was only mere inches from his angry tip. He’s not a virgin, that most people new for sure but he’s never gotten head before nor been with anyone in so many years. And he knows he’d fill your mouth the minute you wrap your plump lips around him and fuck your face until he was blowing his load down your throat.
“You want me to such your dick, sir?” Your voice was laced with seduction making Steve gulp an obscene amount of saliva. he felt so high, gritting his teeth at your words. You made it out to seem he was in charge when you could very well grab his cock and make him do whatever your wanted.
“Fuck, I think I'ma cum.” It was not a might in this situation...it was a definite yes. He was about to bust just from your hot breath brushing against him. but Steve wanted to hold off. He needed to hold off.
Keeping his self-control as much as he could. He wanted to be that hard, confident man that everyone thinks he is. But in truth, his cheeks were tainted with a pink hue, gasping as you took his heavy balls in your mouth suckling with determination. “Wait, Baby, please...hunngmmm I hang on...”
He needed to be inside you. He couldn’t cum without feeling what your cunt felt like first. His precum touched your lips, licking up all the come that was on his thigh and tummy from his previous orgasm. His eyes bore holes in you as he watched you quickly and sensually swallowed his load. You opened your mouth, showing him you ate every drop. Whichmade him snap, man-handling you until you found yourself on top of him, with your chest pressing against his. You breast squished, nipples tingly at the roughness of his scared skin.
He doesn’t give you another second to think nor protest as he pushed his cock in one quick thrust. Planting his feet, before thrusting into you harshly.
“Fuck Stevie!!” You squealed at the feeling of his balls hitting your ass, while his fat thick cock stretched you open wide. He clung onto you tightly, groaning into your neck, biting your shoulder to hide his high-pitched 'ffuuckkkk'. The feeling of your tight cunt was too much and his strokes were becoming sloppy and unsteady very quickly.
“Fuck I-hmg m’need to cum!!” His back arched off the bed while his head had been thrown back against the soft pillow. “god! Shit, shit. Fuck!” he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting, holding onto you while your cunt began to burn with overstimulation as he empties himself deep inside you, feeling as though his orgasm was unending. you squirted around him, liquid going everywhere, from your and his legs to all over the bed. Staining the sheets beneath you both.
“Steve!!” You whined, your greedy soaked cunt kept pulling him back in, with his cum spilling around his cock, splurging out the sides onto his thighs, making him even more sticky then when he began.. “You’re m-making a mess, pplease…” His eyes rolled back at the thought of your warm white cream that now covered your pussy, his cum painting you, decorating you both. Oh, how it made his cock throb more.
“I know-I know baby, fucknng I can’t stop!” He grunts, now hiding his face into your neck again, his arms nearly limp and aching from holding you so tightly while his hips never stop their attack. His rut. All these obscene squelching sounds echoed louder and louder with each pump. “I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me. Fuck my cock…i need to cum. More... Too much cum.”
He couldn’t control himself anymore, all these lewd voices spilling from his tongue, you moaned in response feeling yourself grow closer to a new high another high.
Steve kept growling random words along the lines of 'fuck, shit, i need to cum. Your cunt feels so good.' The list went on. Rolling over so he was now on top, but still keeping his cock tucked inside you, he ground his hips slowly, humping his abused length in as far as it would go while keeping his face in your neck, biting your shoulder for good measure. “feels so good, you make me crazy. So fucking hard. It hurts. M’sorry baby Sugar.”
“It’s okay.” You try to calm your lover, “I’m yours.” The minute the words slipped off your tongue you realized the grave mistake that was because he groaned, no, he growled like a beast. His cock swelled again, becoming harder if that was even possible at this point, before slamming back into you. Fucking you with a new purpose and new-found strength.
“hmm, Mine you say? Fuck, this body is all mine? Pussy is all mine?” His eyes were feral now with a grin matching it. You feel every ripple, divot and vein as his muscles tense and cock fucks you harder. Your face was flushed as you felt embarrassed from his words. Dirty talk was something you never thought Steve would be into. Yet here is he, making you come apart from his filthy tongue. “Gonna fuck my pussy, empty my cum deep in my pussy, fuck my pussy until I’m fucking dry.”
And he does just that. Panting, grunting. He was feral over how good each orgasm felt and how long they seemed to last. He fucked you until you were a crying, begging mess. Overstimulated and sticky. His mouth became filthier with each orgasm he got out of you and there was no stopping it. He was going to fuck you until there was no more cum to produce.
Finding a new positions, from the floor, the wall, the deck, back to the floor again before ending in the bed yet again. He fucked you until you both were fucked out, tired and had made a mess of the entire apartment.
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moiravim · 1 year
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Kinktober Day 3/7
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Fingering with Steve Rogers
You and Steve have only known each other for a few weeks now but every time you see each other you become closer and closer. It's obvious to everyone that the two of you like each other. You both openly flirt and can become very touchy with each other. Expecially for people who have known each other for less than 3 months. Last night Steve had invited you on a date which would take place in 4 hours. You were nervous to go but hoped that it would be more than just a date. When you start to get dressed you make sure to wear cute set of lingerie under your clothes just in case. As you get ready for your date you kept wondering if you were over thinking this all. You have never even kissed yet. Why would something more happen on a first date. Now you were over thinking if you even want to go. What if he doesn't actually like you and you embarrass yourself? Either way you force yourself to get ready and go to where you planned on meeting him. The date was perfect. He payed for the two of you to go to a fancy dinner. Afterwards you both went to a park and walked for over an hour. You both started running together when it started to rain. The two of you laughed while bumping into each other while running to shelter. When you got back to Steve's room you shivered. You didn't expect it to be this cold when you got inside. As you take your clothes off you turn around to see Steve walking out of the bathroom. You look at him with a face of shock as he smiles at you. He grabbed you by your waist, kissing your neck as he lifted you onto his bed. He rubbed his hands on your waist, kissing your cheek. He got into bed and placed himself behind you. He sweetly puts his hands on each of your thighs slowly going towards your center. "May I...?" He asks. You gasp, shaking your head yes. He rubs your core with his thumb as he starts to push his finger into you. He slowly pulls in finger out and back in as you start to squirm. He starts to go faster, making an even pace. As you come on his fingers he kisses your neck and holds you close. When you finish he kisses your cheek once more before getting up to clean you. He comes back with a warm wash rag and helps you clean yourself. He lays you in bed and lays beside you.
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