sideblogofhell - Tumblr blog

[sideblogofhell]

time's wasting, tick-tocking, lip locking

summary: spider-man meets an unlikely friend(or foe) to help him retrieve an important package. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.8k warnings: fluff, suggestive stuff, black cat reader, light smut, they're not friends sorta enemies if you think about it. a/n: a request from an anon! btw you could end it to a certain part if you just want the banter and the fluff but yall this is a hellsburners production we're serving smut here

masterlist | more peter parker

The air was quite chilly atop this building, the spandex not warming his body. Spider-man rubbed his gloved hands together for some heat, his legs bent over the ledge of the building, his eyes scanning the dock below. Twenty-four men loading wooden crates into shipping containers with the words Roxxon Energy Corp.

He swung down behind a shipping crate, crawling to the top unbeknownst to the men. His webs thwip across the snowy dock, disarming three men. Their bodies bonded together, and their mouths shut. He swings again, landing next to four other men, their rifles pointing at him.

Peter webs for two opposite poles and slingshots himself to the men, kicking one over while disarming the others; more men come rushing with baseball bats and crowbars. They try to hit Peter, his senses blazing from each attack; he ducks and avoids each blow, pulling on a few webs to tie them up.

Five more men come from inside the shipping container, loaded with pistols and rifles, but before they can come out, a small silver ball rolls from the top of the container, falling down and releasing white smoke.

Peter could hear the men choke and cough as a figure came down and took them individually. He did the same, taking the moment when the men were disarmed to land a few kicks and punches, leaving them unconscious.

He runs to the shipping container as the smoke wears off. The crates were ripped open with bear-like claw marks, the contents of the boxes now gone. He hears footsteps from his far left, the shadowy figure creeping against the moonlight. Peter webs his way to run after it. The cold slowed him down, his feet much heavier and his hands numb.

He shoots a web that lands on the figure's back. He turns to a man wearing a black coat with white fur on the hood and its sleeves. He sees your face, black-masked, dark hair with streaks of silver, a black satchel wrapped around your shoulder. The Black Cat.

You gave him a wink before falling back on the ledge of the building. Peter jumps, finding you at the bottom, waiting for him. He webs down slowly, landing on his feet. Your back against a wall, your clawed fingers wrapped around the clear vial with silvery-purple liquid.

"Need this?" you said, vapor appearing from your lips. "Nice to see you again, Spider."

"I would say the same, but I don't share the sentiment," he said, walking towards you. "Can we skip the small talk and give me that vial?"

"Ooh, you know it's not that easy," you said, putting the vial back in your bag. "Besides, don't you miss me?" you pout.

"I—no!" Peter said, his voice erratic. "Shame," you smirked, dropping another smoke bomb before disappearing from his sight.

"Hey!" he screamed. You were ahead a few blocks. He swung across a few other buildings and tried to chase you down. You grappled down a busy street, your coat blending in with civilians in their winter clothes. "Fuck," he sighed. "Lucky me, I've been trying to test these out," he said, taking his phone out to see the red dot on the city map, a tracker placed on your back when he ran after you.

He traced you down, riding a black car heading out of the city. Peter reloaded his web-shooters and braced for the trip. He swung from building to building until he landed on a truck heading in the same direction. His joints started to stiffen, his nape cold and aching.

You entered a safe house on the city's outskirts, a brutalist bare building with a white car parked outside. Peter found you dealing with—Richard Fisk, the Kingpin's son, calls himself The Rose. You hand him the bag of vials. You await payment before his men point their guns at you. Peter knows you. This isn't something you could run away from easily. Fisk turns away and leaves in his white car, leaving you with six men with loaded guns.

Peter jumps down to your aid, unarming two men before landing a solid blow on the others. You take this moment to kick the other man right across his face. He saw you move with grace and agility, your gymnast background aiding your fight.

The men all ended up unconscious on the pavement. Blood drips down your lips, and no one gets away with scamming you. "So, was it worth it?" Spider-man said.

"Don't piss me off," you said, rubbing the back of your hand against your bloodied lip. "This never happens."

"Well, it just did," he said. "That vial could've helped me to take them down, but now they have it!"

"I'm not a hero, Spider," you snickered. "I don't do this for good. I do this so I can live," you walked towards the door, the metal ice cold. You try to slide the entrance to the side, but the gate does not budge. You snarled, trying to pull it back. "Shit, I think it's stuck."

"What?" Peter said. "Let me see," he tried to do the same, but the door still didn't budge despite his strength. "Fuck, they must've closed us off—the snow isn't helping either." Peter punched the door in anger, leaving a giant dent.

"There must be another exit—or a window," you said. The room slowly turned colder. You tried to wrap your fur coat around your body, your breath leaving hot vapor. Loud bangs from Peter's fists filled the room, but the door never moved.

"I checked before coming in. There isn't one," Peter took off his mark, panting while vapor left his lips. You looked at him. He was older since you last met, the circles under his eyes darker, his face riddled with stubble, his hair longer and messier. The cold fogged your goggles up, so you took them off and left them on a table nearby.

The two of you rummaged all over the safe house, looking for materials to use or food and other things. Peter found an old lab coat to wrap himself with, and you found a box of canned tuna, some old crackers—and one sleeping bag.

Peter tried his cell, but there was no signal. "We're going to be here for a while," you said. "Shouldn't we bundle up and stay warm, like old times."

"Not happening," Peter said, shivering under his breath.

"Your loss," you ripped a claw on the box of biscuits and took a bite. "Ugh, it's stale."

Hours passed with Peter running around the safe house, looking for an exit. On the other hand, you lay on the sleeping bag with your hands behind your head. You took a file from your pocket and filed your claws into peak sharpness. Peter sighed under his breath every time he passed by you. "You're a pain in the ass, Cat."

"From what I remember, you gave me a pain in the ass, Spider," you chuckled. "Kidding, it wasn't all pain."

"I'm fucking freezing," Peter said, rubbing his body to make some heat.

"I told you we should bundle up," you said. "Plus, it's getting late, and I'm sleepy."

Peter rolled his eyes and joined you in the sleeping bag. The two of you were wrapped like a burrito, his face too close to yours. His brown eyes stared intently, his long lashes batting at you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. His eyes widened, and a soft moan left his lips. "Wrap your arms around me, too," you said. His large arms snaked around you, creating heat.

"Wood sage and Sea salt?" you whispered, smelling his neck. He chuckled and nodded. "I missed you, Spider. Honestly,"

"I missed you too," he said, his voice stern. "Where did you go, Cat?"

"Tried to live a normal life, it didn't end well for me," your gaze trailed away from his eyes, your hand finding his soft brown hair. "I guess this is me forever, running and stealing."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You could work with me, and we could be good," Peter said, his palms rubbing your lower back. "Live with me."

"I'll think about it," you said, your hands falling to his cheeks. It was warm against his cold skin. You inched closer, pressing your lips to his. You closed your eyes and delved deeper into the kiss. His hand snaked underneath your clothes, cold fingertips against your bare skin. You wrapped your thigh around his, his knee hitting your center. The two of you moaned from the kiss, hands searching each other's bodies.

You straddled Peter's waist rubbing your ass on his growing erection. His hands wrapped around your ass, pulling you closer. He whimpers on your lips, shaking from the pleasure and the cold. "Cat—" he moaned. You pepper his neck with kisses, licking and sucking, leaving red marks.

He pulls you back to the kiss, his arms hugging you tighter as his sex rubs on your ass. He rubs against you, moaning and whimpering while you moan from his tight embrace. He grips your waist, fingers digging into your skin. "Fuck—Spider, you good?" you gasped.

"I missed you, and I need you," he said. "Please be with me. I'll take care of you, protect you," his eyes stared at yours. "You won't run ever again."

"I'll think about it," you said again, an ache forming in your chest. Knowing it will never be normal with him.

"Fuck–I'm close," he moaned.

You pulled him in for a last kiss for a long while. Peter finishes under his suit, his face red and his hair drenched in sweat. You later passed out on the sleeping bag, your arms draped around each other, Peter's lips pressing on your forehead as you succumbed to the night.

Peter woke up to a banging on the door. "We know you're in there, Cat! Give us the real vial, or we'll kill you!" a bunch of men surrounded the lot, hands on their guns. He saw that you were gone, a hole formed on the ceiling, sunlight peering in, a black satchel on the spot where you slept. Inside were the vials and a note.

Sorry, I couldn't stay for breakfast. I had to go real quick. I left the vials for you. Do whatever is right. You always do the right thing. And you'll probably not see me again but don't miss me too much. I know I will.

Xoxo, Cat.

[sideblogofhell]

a dance with the enemy

summary: ikaris is recruting eternals in hiding but you're unwilling to take him without a fight pairing: ikaris x male reader word count: 1.4k warnings: 18+ warning, oral and anal, reader is an eternal (non specified powers but they can absorb energy) ikaris is a villain here duh, hate sex? a/n: the writer's block is killing me send help

masterlist | the repentant's corner

His hands on your wrists were tight, fingers digging deep into your skin, creating coils of red. You looked up at him with your varied height, his blue eyes now a bright gold. You tried to escape him, writhing underneath his grasp. His brown hair was tousled and wet, the lone streak of gray plastered on his forehead.

"Why do you have to make this so difficult," he said. 

He was stronger and faster. You knew that escaping him would not be possible. The only way to get free of him was to use his own weakness, his pride. "Arishem's golden boy, have you come to finally kill me?"

"Not kill. I need you to join me," Ikaris said, his face so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

"And leave my life behind?" You pleaded. "No."

"I never wanted this for any of us," he said, pulling away. You massage your thumbs on your aching wrists. He stopped, panting while his eyes faded to a light blue. "But it needs to be done."

"Then show me why I should," you said. Ikaris swiftly cups your face, his lips crashing onto yours. His lips were warm and plump, his hands large and strong against your cheeks. You wanted to pour yourself onto him, let your mind and body betray you just for once.

But you pushed him away. His lips were swollen and shiny against the lights, his eyes bloodshot and welling with tears. Your heart pounded, almost painful. You tried to whisper a word, but unidentifiable syllables came out. 

Let go, you thought. You crashed back into Ikaris' embrace, his arms around your waist while your lips met his. The stubble of his jaw pricked your skin as his kiss fell on your neck. Teasing and nibbling with his lips and tongue. The wetness on your neck, mixed with the air, made you shiver. Ikaris chuckled under his breath, a teasing laugh. 

"We shouldn't," he whispered. He's right. Nothing about this is sincere. Nothing about it is birthed from affection. It's simply a temporary pleasure, a scratch to an itch. It shouldn't feel right. 

You pushed him hard against the wall, cracks forming. You kiss him again, this time more rabid, lip-biting, nails digging into his shoulders. His hands were firm on your waist, pushing hard enough it could break human bones. "We really shouldn't."

Your lips kiss down his stubble neck, your flesh hit against his jugular. A hand guiding your way. You could bite him now, strangle him, take a knife to his veins, and finally end him. Instead, you suck on his skin, a moan leaves his lips, mouth agape from pleasure.

He takes off his jacket, leaving a tight blue shirt that shapes around his muscles. Your hands find the hems, seeking what is underneath. You smooth your palms against his taut abdomen, littered with soft hair. Your fingertips trace each ridge. 

You go on your knees to give his skin a kiss and have a taste of his pale skin. Your tongue teases the hem of his jeans, the barrier between modesty and eroticism. You palm the growing bulge. He takes over and unbuckles his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping so he can take out his sex.

"Just take me in," he pleaded. He pulls your mouth in with much force. The walls of your mouth envelop his well-endowed sex. You gag from the sudden movement, eyes welling with tears. His hands smooth on your hair, gripping on it as he fucks your mouth. 

Saliva coats his cock, which is aching hard. He would occasionally pull out, the head aching red and the tip leaking. There was no regard for your body. You were simply a means to pleasure. 

You back out, coughing up saliva while the roof of your mouth aches. You stagger to find balance. Ikaris' eyes are dark, his lips taut. 

"Where's your bed?" He asked. 

You find yourselves naked on top of each other, limbs entangled, hair messy as your bodies are drenched with sweat. Ikaris' body casts a shadow on top of you, his broad shoulders perfectly flexed as his arms pinned yours. Your legs placed on his waist, his erection teasing your hole. 

He spits on his hand, lubing his cock before pushing it in you. There was a sharp pain, eliciting a loud shriek from you, your hands wrapping around his neck. He takes a few moments to make you settle on his size. He is panting on top of you, his hairy chest rising and falling, his muscles contracting and relaxing. 

He moves his hips, his head falling on the crook of your neck as he thrusts. "You're so tight," he moaned. You gasp from the pressure. You swore you could feel your body tremble. He pushes again, and this time, your body finally acclimated. He hit a spot inside you that drew out a moan of pleasure. Your sex ached hard on your abdomen, leaving a drop of pleasure.

He wrapped his arms around you, large biceps around your body, your fingers scratching at his broad back, leaving lines of red. For a second, you thought of the embrace as a result of love, something couples would do in sex. But then he forces a strong thrust, a gasp leaving your mouth. And suddenly, it was just sex. 

It took a great deal of restraint on Ikaris' part. His strength could crush you. He felt his body lose control, his eyes becoming warm and lighting up in gold. Your body felt so fragile in his arms, so delicate and feeble. 

You cursed under your breath, your eyes rolling back in euphoria. Intricate patterns of gold laced your hands. You could burn him if you wished. Cosmic energy laced your bodies and, if uncontained, could send ripples of destruction around you. 

He pulled onto you so you could switch positions. He took time to straddle his muscular thighs as he slowly guided himself in you. You palmed his chest, a hand finding his throat. You pressed your fingers in, wrapping around his neck, constricting his breathing.

His hips ram into you at an accelerated pace, and your body does the same. You rode him until he was tearing through the sheets with his hands, the bed creaking, his form sinking into the mattress. He lets out exasperated groans, the veins on his neck more prominent, his face burning red. 

You feel each other's climax coming. Ikaris pulls you back into a kiss, a greedy kiss, one that is meant only for the finality of the act. He pushes deeper as you ride him, his tip hitting the sweet spot inside you that only draws your pleasure to excess. 

"I'm gonna cum in you," he demanded. "And you'll take it like the good boy you are."

"I'm not your good boy," you said, pulling on his brown locks. You were on high ground. The command is with you, not him. "I'll finish whenever I like."

His face contorted into a headless cry, his eyes shut, and his lips open. You were close, too close. Teetering into climax like an overflowing glass of water. "Fuck," Ikaris groans. "I'm so fucking close."

"Look into my eyes," you said. 

"I can't," he said, the veins around his eyes a glimmering gold. 

"Fine," you said. "I'll just leave you like this," Ikaris slowly opened his eyes, a hazy gold. You moved your hips in sync with his. His grip grew harder, his body more flexed. You could feel the energy burn through his eyes. If he let go, he could easily hurt you. 

Ikaris cursed as he came inside you. Shining bright light through his eyes that burned through the ceiling. You shuddered as you came as well, your hands glowing with gold as you sucked in his power. Slowly, Ikaris' light faded, coursing through the veins of your hands. The increased energy surging through your body crashed into you like a potent drug. 

Ikaris passed out long after. The strongest Eternal, asleep in your bed. The room was obviously a mess, sheets torn, bed broken, ceiling burnt. He looked peaceful, though. His long lashes lay softly on his cheeks, his lips barely pursing to let out air. A slight pang hit your chest when you took the call.

"I have him," you said. You finally have the enemy. 

[sideblogofhell]

request are open !

hey guys im taking requests again! i still have some otw but im opening it again for future prompts preferably something fluffy? if you want any male reader x my main boys hmu on the asks!!

[sideblogofhell]

stumblin' back to bed

summary: peter's partner is very drunk and very clingy pairing: tasm!peter parker x gender neutral reader word count: 1.2k warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, some kissing, mentions of sex, slight smut a/n: from another lovely request! (btw this is a scheduled post im on a semi-hiatus rn bcs life)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter kisses you with your back against the door. His hands cupped your face as you cling on his shirt. His lightly stubbled face pricks your cheeks while his warm lips weave into yours, tongues dipping into each other—the hallway filled with the sound of sloppy kisses, some whimpering as your centers rub. 

“Let’s get in first,” he said, fumbling for his house keys. 

You stood beside him, the floor spinning around, your head confused. The alcohol had done its magic, your gait was funny, your joints loose, and you almost fell before entering his apartment. 

“Woah, those tequila shots were something—,” you slurred, Peter held onto you for stability. 

You grabbed him by his belt loops for another kiss, like your own personal bottle of liquor, you took Peter Parker’s lips like the freshest glass of tequila, bitter and addicting. You stumbled to his kitchen counter, he lifted you so you were sitting on it, your legs on his hips. 

“I need some water,” he said in between kisses. He pulls away, much to your dismay, to grab a glass. “Want some?” you shook your head, your head still spinning. 

He comes back to you, his head mounted on your neck, sucking and kissing, leaving marks. His hands roam your back, large hands warm on your cold skin. Your hands roam his torso, feeling his muscled abdomen until you reach the barrier between his skin and underwear. Later, your touch fell to his growing hardness. 

“Woah—baby,” he moaned. 

“Fuck, Peter it’s so hard,” you ached. 

“Only for you—” he whimpered, nibbling on your neck. His hands came to cup your ass, pulling you in so your crotch rubbed on his. He started to hump in between your legs, using the friction for pleasure. Your fingers trail through his soft brown hair taking in his scent, a mix of alcohol and musk. 

“The room is spinning like crazy,” you said. You felt yourself become more sensitive, the hairs on your skin erecting, his mere touch made you shudder. 

“We can stop,” he lets out. 

“No. Don’t stop—,” you gasped, his hand going underneath your underwear to touch your sex. You moaned from his fingers, moving so gracefully to pleasure you. He pulls back but you wrap your legs around him pulling him in. Your hands find his neck, pulling him from there as well. 

“Let’s take this to the couch—more comfy.”

You move on his couch, straddling him. The two of you are in the middle of a heated make-out session before you feel your stomach turn, and bile rising to your throat. You suddenly pulled back, covering your mouth. Peter sat there confused. Your body shuddered as you made a gagging sound. 

“Oh god, let’s get you to the toilet,” he said. You refused, waving your hands. 

“I’m fine.”

“Water then? Let me get you a glass,” he said. You later took the drink, downing the water alleviating some of the dizziness and the gagging. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I promise babe I’m good.”

“Let’s go to bed then,” he pleads. 

“I’m fine!” your words start to slur again. He pulls you to the bedroom, the sudden change in speed almost made you throw up. He sits you down on the bed to get you a change of clothes.

He kisses you again, “I’m not fucking you like this, too messy.” 

He hands you a cold glass of water. You chug on the liquid like a parched dog, the cooling sensation tracing down your warm throat. 

He takes the empty glass, your body swaying loosely. You look up at him, lips pouting. He looks down on you with a smile, stroking your hair before your body betrays you, eyes going dark as you fall back on the soft sheets. 

——————

You wake up to the smell of bacon. You check to see your clothes changed to a pair of trainer shorts and a Star Wars graphic tee. Your breath reeked of alcohol as you let out a yawn. 

You check to see Peter standing near the stove, his torso bare with only his boxers on. His hands skillfully flipping bacon and eggs on a greasy pan. 

“Hey handsome,” you called out. 

He turns around, a smile plastered on his face. His arms spread wide to take you in his arms. His skin was warm against yours, your cheek flush against his chest. 

“You slept well?” he asked. “You were knocked out good.” 

“Oh god, that bad huh?” you gasped. He places a kiss on your forehead, hands through your hair again patting it over and over. 

“Yeah, you said something about how madly and deeply in love you are with me and how you wanted me to and I quote stuff you up.”

“I did not!” you hit his chest with the base of your fist. He laughs hysterically. 

Smoke started to gather behind him, and the smell of charred meat started to fill the room. The two of you checked to see the bacon starting to turn black. “Shit. shit. shit!”

Breakfast was spoiled. Peter tried to salvage it but those were the last pieces. He tried to look for anything in his cupboard to eat but he found nothing. 

“It’s alright Pete,” you coo, smoothing his back

“It was supposed to be a perfect breakfast!” 

“Well, we could have something else,” your hand traced down his spine, teasing the edge of his boxers. 

“Oh,” you pin his back on the kitchen counter, pulling his underwear after. His hard cock springs free, aching red. 

You look up at him with the same pleading gaze from last night, slowly inching your lips closer to his tip. You gave it a few licks, your wet tongue dragging on his frenulum, Peter’s body heaved from the pleasure. 

His grip on your head was getting tighter, guiding your mouth as it bobbed on his cock. The thick shaft rubbed smoothly on the flat of your tongue, the head barely hitting the roof of your mouth. 

You hollow your cheeks to create more suction, Peter lets out a groan, his head falling back. You held onto his thighs, your neck pulling back to suck up to his sensitive tip. A string of clear liquid connects your lips to his sex. 

“You’re so good, baby,” he moaned. “Taking me so well.” 

Sweat trickles down from his forehead to his toned abdomen, your fingers tracing the lines to his sparse hair near his belly leading to his crotch. 

Your other hand went to stroke the remaining length of his cock, the combined sensation led Peter to the edge. He was a panting mess, chest heaving, toes curling, his long fingers digging into your scalp.

“I’m gonna—“ he gasps, cum shooting down your throat. His body convulsed as you held your stance, tears forming in your eyes as he fucked into your mouth. 

You stood up to wipe the spit all over your lips and pecked Peter’s lips. “So what’s good food around here?” 

[sideblogofhell]

a forbidden fruit

summary: pietro eats something he shouldn't have pairing: pietro maximoff x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x pollen, blowjobs, unprotected sex a/n: part iv have fun do leave comments if u liked it

masterlist | the repentant's corner

Pietro dashed around the lot sixteen times to make sure no one was there. You rubbed your hands together for some heat against the chilling night. The grass crackled beneath your feet trying to chase after your partner. You ended up a panting mess next to him, your knees shaking. 

“So I was thinking, after this patrol maybe we could go out sometime?” he said, his breath unwavering. You gulped and tried to let out a word, your voice dry and coarse. You nod, sweat dripping down your forehead. 

“Can you focus?” you said, trying to open the door. He broke open the warehouse padlock with ease, vibrating at a pace that dislodged the gears that kept the lock secure. 

You slide the rusty door open into a dark room. Pietro used a flashlight to look into the path. The warehouse was small, almost the size of a barn, the floor a flat grey concrete, the walls tall and rusted. There were a few broken wooden crates scattered all over the floor, a metal table on the farthest left. 

Your partner zoomed into the room like a faint blue flare. He checked to see the contents of the crates, all seemed empty.  He sat on the metal table, a few newspapers sprawled out and a white dish used as a makeshift ashtray. 

“Look at this,” he pulled out a small ziplock bag filled with different sugar-coated candy like Skittles. He takes one out and puts it in his mouth, licking the sugar off his fingers. You took the bag from him, smelling the contents; sweet and fresh. “Want one?”

“You idiot! I don’t think this is candy,” you took the bag inside your pocket, Pietro smirking. “We have to send this to the lab.”

“It’s fine, fast metabolism remember?” he shrugged. 

The plane ride back to the compound was quiet. Pietro sat away from you and kept to himself, which was very unusual. He would always try to bother you while you flew the quinjet, always teasing and messing around, but right now he was slumped over to the side using his phone. 

You arrived at the compound a few hours later, the airdock marshalls taking over the jet. You asked other agents to rush to Dr. Cho’s lab to send the candy samples. “Pietro and I found this on patrol tonight,” you gave the pack to her assistants before they went on to test the samples. 

Your phone dinged to a message from Pietro. Meet me in the conference room at 4B ASAP. 

“Fine, I’m an idiot,” he said. “My dick has been so hard for the past five hours and I can’t make it go away!”

“Your what?” you looked at the tent in between his legs, his knuckles were pale white as he gripped onto his pants. “Well I knew it was a drug but I didn’t know it was that kind!”

“What are we gonna do?” he said, his silver-gray hair all tousled over his forehead. He zoomed around and around the room, a cobalt blur blew gusts of wind everywhere he went. He stopped in a corner, his legs shaking and his face flushed. 

“We?” you clamored. “How the fuck am I supposed to help?”

“I don’t know you’re smarter than me!” his eyes widened, his voice shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead. He braced for another run but you held onto his arm. He shuddered, his skin was hot. 

“We should tell Dr. Cho,” you said. “Get you medicine or something.” 

“Absolutely not,” he pleaded. “It’s embarrassing,” his eyes wandered all over the room as if the answers were written on the walls. “We should deal with this the way it's intended.”

“Yeah, no,” you said before turning for the door. Pietro suddenly was in front of you blocking your exit. 

“Please draga—“ his lips were dead set. Pietro was an ill-tempered man, his demeanor was quick like his abilities, charismatic but also stubborn. You thought for a second, you’re helping a co-worker that’s all right?

“Well, how do we do it?” you said. He removed his jacket, and his blue shirt underneath. You marveled at his taut chest, the ridged cuts across his abdomen, and the two lines pointing down his sex. You tried to look away, but you couldn’t believe someone could look like that, like a Greek sculpture. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a kiss. His lips were warm against yours, his stubble pricking at your cheeks. Your hands find his chest for stability, snaking around his neck to pull him closer. His large arms circle around your waist, finding the hem of your pants and going through to your ass. 

He spun you around and pinned your hands above your head, using his other hand to pull your pants down. He smoothed his palms on the plump mounds before giving it a spank, leaving it a red blush. He practically rips his pants open, his thick cock hard and leaking. He spits on his free hand, using it to prepare you. 

“I’m gonna go in okay?” he said in a whimpering tone. You nod, your cheeks warm. He spits again to lube his cock before feeling the pressure on your hole. It was sharp for a bit, the pressure easing as he flushed himself in, the base of his cock hitting your ass. He stops for a second, relishing the heat from your body. “So tight—”

You grunted when he pulled out, only to thrust back in. He began to fuck you at a languid pace, the sensation soothing the tingly feeling Pietro got from the drug. He tried to go slower, to make sure you won’t get hurt but he couldn’t. As you tried to move your hips at the same beat of his body he started to—vibrate. 

You let out a gasp, you thought of the toy you had at home, the one you use thinking about him, but the speed and intensity could not rival him. Pietro let out a series of cusses in Sokovian, it sounded like he was pleading to a god. Your knees turned wobbly from his thrusts, his body vibrating at a pace that made your eyes roll back, your own sex hard and leaking in your trousers. 

“Pietro—fuck,” you moaned.

“I can’t control it, you’re too warm,” his words shaking. “And good,” He let go of your hands, shifting to your waist, he gripped so hard you knew it would bruise. He moved quicker, like a piledriver into you, it stung but the pleasure of hitting your prostate compensated. 

When gripping onto your waist wasn’t enough, he wrapped his arms around your body hugging you, and began to thrust into you harder, his silver hair plastered on his forehead wet. Your body tried to keep you up but your legs betrayed you. You fell down, his cock pulling out. “I can’t stand.”

He pulls you to the table nearby, propping you with your legs on his shoulders. He lines himself back into your hole driving back into his thrusts. The vibrating began again, shaking the table as he gripped it on its edge. You let out desperate cries, he tried to soothe you by kissing your lips, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “I’m close—” he cried out.

You nodded, the constant stimulation to your prostate was going to make you cum untouched. His thrusts became erratic, still a vibrating mess. Pietro stood up and you marveled at the glistening sight, his abdomen contracting and relaxing on each thrust, his head pulled back and his lids closed. 

And then the climax hit, cum shooting inside you in thick, your own release spewing on your belly. The vibration slows, Pietro a panting mess for once, a side of him you’ve never seen. He places a peck on your lips and mouths praises. 

“So about that date?”

[sideblogofhell]

strain and torment

summary: reader has insane bi panic

pairing: matt murdock x male reader x elektra natchios

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ warning, bi!top matt, bi!male reader, threesomes, p in v sex, anal seggz, reader and elektra do it, dom/sub themes

a/n: part 2 of the pain and suffering duo fic!

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credits

“We’re here,” you said, facing him. His crimson lenses glinted against the porch light, his veiny hands tight around the walking cane. There was a smile on his face, the same face you’ve grown to love and adore, the dimples more prominent.  “Are you sure you could head home alone?” 

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I can manage, you should go rest.” 

“And—that’s it?” you said, teetering. He laughs, that breathy laugh he always makes, the one that also makes you laugh. His hand reaches for your face, calloused fingertips brush your cheek lacing through your hair. You close your eyes, appreciating his warm touch. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you to him. 

Your chests meet, feeling your heart beat faster and louder, like his alarm in the morning—alerting him. He presses his lips against yours, his stubble prickling a bit. He felt your warmth, your scent, your taste, it was inebriating. You pull back, catching your breath, he pulls you back in. He wants this moment to last, the moments where it was just you and him—happy. 

Matt finally releases you, and a shot of anxiety crashes through him. This won’t last, he thinks. After two weeks of flirting back and forth, he was happy for a time, but he knew the risks. Just a few days ago you found him lumped on the floor unconscious, his eyes sunken in, purple bags around his eyes. He knew how worried you were, the way your breathing would quicken, your heartbeat too fast, and your hands cold and shaking. He hated how it made you feel, that’s why he thought of ending it as soon as possible. Maybe Foggy was right, this lifestyle isn’t suited for a mundane relationship. 

“Goodbye,” he smiled, the guilt eating him up. He turned to walk away, hailing a cab across the street. You head back to your apartment, you notice the way Matt’s mood shifted. It has been bothering you for days. He would always say he fell down the stairs or he slipped, but you’re not dumb, you know how different those bruises are. It worries you too much. 

—

You fumbled to open the door, the keys got caught on some pins. You dragged yourself to the fridge for a drink, you took the box of juice and a glass, pouring yourself a drink. The cold liquid shook your body off of the anxiety, it was soothing in a way. 

“Hello there,” a voice said. Your body jumped, the glass falling from your hand as you turned around. There was a woman in your dining room. She was slim and sharp, she could’ve been a model you thought, with long black hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a maroon suit, wraps of the red cloth around her waist and hands. Then you saw it, a faint glimmer of silver at her hip, two blades sheathed, fear raised from your chest.

“Who the hell are you?” you shouted, brows furrowed. You could feel the wetness on your feet, under the shards of glass. She stood up from her seat, walking to you in a cat-like manner, slow and precise. 

“I’m no one, especially to you,” she said, her voice low and sultry. Her eyes were dark, like a siren, her red lips sharp as she grinned. 

“So—why are you in my apartment then?” you said, sarcastically. 

“Just to look,” she said, scanning you with her dark gaze, her long lashes batting at you.  

“Okay lady you’re creeping me out,” you said, sweat forming on your forehead. “I need you to leave.”

You inch forward but she quickly grabs the phone on your kitchen counter. She takes a look at your screen, the photo of Matt at Fogwell’s set as your background. “Aww, how cute,” she said. You grabbed the phone from her hand, hiding it away. She had this mischievous look on her face, taunting you. “You must be Matthew’s new boy toy.”

“Boy toy?” you were shocked. “You know Matt? And what’s with this ninja outfit?” 

“Ninja?” she chuckled. “Which part of this get-up says ninja?” You gestured at the blades on her hip. “Ah, smart boy. Matthew’s taste must have improved.”

“Lady, you’re not answering my questions.”

“Because they’re dumb questions,” she said. She inched forward, her long fingers touching your chin. She was beautiful up close, almost otherworldly. Her arm reaches past your shoulder to the fridge to grab the box of juice. She grabs a glass and pours herself a drink as you stand frozen. Your head is riddled with so many questions.

“Fine—I’m Elektra Natchios,” she said, taking a sip of the juice. “And I’m here to save your life.”

—

Matt asked for the cab to stop only a few meters from your apartment. The cab driver was confused, Matt gave the man some money before he left. His senses were off, something was wrong. He could smell it from afar, his head scanned across the street, the smell of the dead. Like rotting corpses. He could also hear metal sliding across each other, like a hundred blades unsheathing. 

He tried to pinpoint where they were coming from and then it hit him, it was coming from your building. He rushed through the people on your street, bumping into shoulders, curses flying around as he hit their bodies a little too strong. Fear inched at his nape, sweat trickling down his skin. 

He reaches the entrance of the building, the door ajar. He ran to the stairs, running to your unit, he was getting tired but soon the adrenaline came over him. He reached the fourth floor, his senses were off, and he couldn’t find your scent. He runs to the last door on the right, a body lumped on the floor the taste of iron on Matt’s lips. 

He tried, he tried to find it—any semblance of your presence but there was none. He could smell the faintest jasmine scent, a familiar scent to Matt, a scent he knew would only signal bad news. 

“Where is he?” he said, entering the room. 

The slender figure, wiping the blood off her face, left a last kick on another man on the floor. The entire room was a mess, tables were broken, vases toppled over, and around twelve men were dead on your apartment floor. “Oh there you are,” she said, taking a glass of juice from the counter. “I haven’t seen you for months and you don’t even say hi.”

“Answer my question Elektra,” he said. 

“He’s safe with me,” dropping the glass on the floor, a thousand shattered pieces littering the already messy room. “He’s on the way to my penthouse with my driver.”

“Who did this?”

“Your little devil adventures pissed off the wrong men,” she said. She reached down to the body on her feet, pulling on the man’s hair. “Tell him who sent you,” her blade placed on his jugular.

“The Rose sends his regards,” the man grunts, blood pooling on his mouth before he passes. 

“Richard Fisk?” Matt said.

“Putting the Kingpin behind bars left the city ripe for the taking,” Elektra said. “Stay with me for a while, we can think of how we can deal with this there—plus he’s there too.”

She noticed the way his hand clenched, knuckling white as his nails dug into his palms. She touches his hand, rubbing her thumb to soothe him. “Elektra—I can’t lose him,” his voice hitches, tears forming. 

“And you won’t,” she whispered. “I swear, I’ll help you.”

“How would I know you’re not deceiving me again,” he said, pulling his hand away from her. “There’s always a price when you’re involved.”

“Richard Fisk is ruining business for me. Help me get rid of him and you’ll never see me again,” her lips graze Matt’s ear. “Plus—you and me fighting criminals, like old times,” she smirked.

Matt bit his lips in contempt.

—

Elektra’s penthouse was big, with high ceilings and massive windows painted gray. It was cold and dark, You sat near the kitchen counter, your hands shaking. The sight from your apartment was frightening. Elektra took down a bunch of armed men, her body moving swiftly with such grace she was like a red sword cutting through the men like nothing. 

She managed to drag you outside the apartment, shoving you inside a black SUV, and told the driver to bring you to her penthouse. You were in so much shock during the car ride. Your home would probably be a crime scene, all your belongings left there for the cops to find, you even left your phone there, with all your precious pictures of Matt. 

The door swung open. You looked to see Elektra enter the room, her clothes soaked in blood. Behind her was Matt, his suit all messy and his hair all tousled. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His hands gripped onto you hard. “God, I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered. 

“What happened?” you asked, Elektra vanished from the scene, her clothes left on the floor trailing to her room. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said, his hands firm on your waist. You saw the duffel bag Matt had left on the doorstep, a billy club protruding from the opening.

“Are you?” you uttered. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”

He nods, it would explain everything, the bruises, the wounds, the constant pain weighing on his shoulders as if he carried the world. “How?” you said, your brows furrowed as your hands roamed his chest. 

“It’s a lot to explain, but trust me I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “No more secrets.” 

Your hands went to his collar, pulling him into a kiss. His lips, were warm against yours as his arms hugged your waist. His kiss was filled with want, pulling you tighter to take you in. It was feverish like he craved for your taste on his lips. He breathed in, taking in your warm scent into his lungs, the fear from earlier leaving his senses. 

His fingers reached under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingertips warm against your back. Your hands smoothed through his soft hair, his lips falling to your cheek, down to your jaw, to your neck, the roughness of his chin pricking your neck. His lips pressed onto your skin, the tip of his tongue toying with your jugular. He would leave a few marks on your neck, drawing moans out of you, It was lewd, you had forgotten you weren’t in your homes. 

You heard the clinking of glasses, Elektra was setting up three glasses and an expensive bottle of scotch. “You horny boys ready for a drink or what?” she sneered. Matt sighed, letting go of you. 

The three of you shared a drink, the bitterness surely shook the anxiety away. “Care to discuss how you two know each other?” you asked. Matt choked on his drink, and Elektra smirked. 

“Yes Matthew, do tell your boyfriend here how we met.”

“Elektra was my ex in college,” Matt said, his voice hoarse. 

“Ah,” you said, taking another sip of the liquor. You avoided their gazes, swirling your glass around doing anything to distract yourself from imagining Matt on top of Elektra or Elektra on top of Matt or—

“If it’s any consolation for you,” she said. “I broke it off. Not that Matthew wasn’t an excellent lover, he surely is well endowed.”

You choked on your drink. Matt shook his head in disbelief. 

“Especially in the bedroom,” she said. “His skill is unparalleled.” 

“Can we stop this conversation,” Matt broke off, waving his hand around. 

“So, how long are we staying here?” you asked. 

“As long as Fisk’s son is brought to justice,” he said. “We’ll take care of it.”

You downed the drink, the alcohol burning your throat. You noticed Elektra staring at you, her dark eyes piercing through you like she could tell all your secrets just from reading your body language. You look back at her, your brows furrowed in confusion. She smiles, that same devious smile she makes, like a temptress. 

“Does it bother you?” she asked. Matt had left to get your things settled for the night. 

“No,” you answered, bile rising from your stomach. Was it jealousy? Or utter curiosity? That Matt would settle for you after dating someone who looked like a Greek goddess.  “Do you have a problem with me? From the moment you saw me you’ve been taunting me.”

Her smile fades.

“If anything I think the jealous one here is you.”

She chuckles under her breath. “I’m not jealous,” she smiled, inching closer to you. “Matt had spoken to me about you, how much he adores you. And somehow it intrigued me.”

“Intrigued you?”

“How it’ll be like to have you,” she said. “To see what Matthew sees in you.”

She sets her index finger on your chin bringing your face to her. You could smell her lip gloss, a soft cherry scent. You inched closer as well, your breaths meeting. Heat rose to your cheeks painting them red. Her slender hands found your waist, hooking onto a belt loop and pulling you in. 

“What’s going on?” you heard Matt clear his throat. Elektra knew he heard everything, and her stable heart would indicate she was telling the truth. 

She spun you so you were facing Matt, his shirt abandoned leaving him in his trousers. “Just wanted to play. Your boyfriend here seemed eager.”

“Is that true?” he said, his voice stern and commanding. “Do you want to play with Elektra?”

“Only if you allow it,” you said. Matt’s eyebrow raised as if you just said the wrong thing. “I meant, only if you allow it, sir.” 

“Oh, has he been trained well?” Elektra said, her hands finding your hair, tugging. 

“Yeah, always obedient,” he came close to you and Elektra. “You know your safe words right?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Good,” he said, taking his head to your lips. A soft whimper leaves your mouth, you can hear Elektra chuckle. Matt’s large hands find your waist, reaching behind to grasp a handful of your ass. 

You could feel Elektra leave soft kisses on your neck, her hands roaming all over your torso. Your knees buckle from all their touching, your knees almost giving out. She finds the growing erection in your center, her hands palming it. You cry in Matt’s kiss, falling out of balance. 

Elektra grabs the two of you by the wrists, dragging you to her room. It was massive, with big windows overlooking the city skyline, a king-sized bed with maroon sheets, and some gym equipment at the side. 

Matt sits on the bed, palming his erection. He pulls you to his lap, sucking on your neck leaving marks. Elektra comes to join you, standing in between your legs to press a kiss on your lips. She was sweet and her lips soft. 

“Show Elektra how good you are sweetheart,” Matt whispered. 

You knelt in front of Matt taking his cock out. You left soft kisses along his erected shaft, licking the from the base to the leaking tip. Elektra went to sit on the small chair near her vanity. Her hands playing with her sex. 

Your lips pressed on the tip of Matt’s cock, and he shuddered from the contact. You slowly envelop the head with your wet lips, taking him till your nose hit the base of his cock. Matt lets out a guttural moan, his hand gripping your hair. 

Elektra played with her clit, circling her fingers on the sensitive nub. You could hear her moan just from watching you, you start to touch your sex, anything to deal with your aching cock. 

“See? He’s a good slut,” Matt said. You continued to bob your head on his cock going down and sucking up. 

“Let’s see if he can do the same here,” Elektra said. You crawled your way to her, her panties already gone, her sex glistening against the dim lights. You present your tongue to her as you lap on her slit, licking and sucking on her clit while you tease her entrance. She shudders, pulling you in through your hair, her thighs shaking on each side of your face. 

You could feel Matt pull your pants and underwear off, his stubbled face in between your cheeks soon after. You continue to taste her at the same pace Matt was licking your hole, gripping tightly on your ass as he ate you out. 

“Shit—” Elektra moans, her long nails scratching your scalp. 

“Is that good mistress?” you said, looking up at her with tears running down your face, your lips swollen and wet. 

“Very good,” she whimpers once more. 

After Elektra came for the first time you were soon on her bed. Matt lying down, you straddling his dick, while Elektra rode Matt’s face. You and Elektra were moaning from Matt’s actions, his thick cock filling you well while his tongue played with her clit. 

Your hands held onto Matt’s chest for stability, Elektra pulling you in for a kiss, her mouth swollen and drooling as she pressed onto you. She moved her hips forward and back on Matt’s face as she soon came for a second time, an ethereal glow plastered on her face. 

Matt later placed you on the bed, your legs on each side of his waist as he fucked you more vigorously. Elektra lay next to you stroking your cock as Matt riled his hips inside you, his hair all wet and his lips swollen. Precum leaked onto your belly, Elektra took some of it to taste and to use as lube for herself. She later took your cock inside her, straddling you as Matt took his fill inside you. 

Matt’s arms wrapped around Elektra’s waist, fondling her breasts and tweaking her nipples while another hand played with her clit. Sharing a kiss, they looked like a pornographic painting, Matt was big and full of muscle while Elektra was small and delicate. Elektra’s pussy felt so good on your cock, and Matt’s thickness only drove you closer to unraveling. 

“You look so pretty taking us sweetheart,” Matt groans, Elektra agreeing with him. They bent over to share a kiss with you, their tongues meeting yours as you moaned. 

“I’m close—” you said, Elektra smirked. She rolled her hips harder, clenching on your cock as she rode her high. Her body convulsed on your dick she was shaking so hard it sent vibrations on your cock triggering your climax. 

You came inside her and the vibrations from your bodies only aided in Matt’s release. The three of you were moaning messes as you came crashing down on the bed, naked bodies all wet and panting. 

Matt smoothed your hair out before kissing you on the lips, Elektra doing the same. 

You spent the month living with Elektra, the sex continued until the mission was done. The three of you spent the nights researching and fucking all over her loft, like animals.  Sooner or later Matt found out Elektra had an ulterior motive which led her to leave again. Your relationship with Matt never changed but you still thought of those nights whenever you lay with Matt. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[sideblogofhell]

a body with two souls

summary: there are stories about who druig truly is, he lets you see a glimpse of the truth pairing: druig x male reader word count: 1.3k warnings: 18+ warning, mutual masturbation, mind control, dom!druig, kinda dark if u put your mind into it, if u dont like ignore a/n: part three im back!

main masterlist | the repentant's corner

Stars don’t fall for men, and gods don’t come down from the heavens for men. There were stories passed down in the commune, that the leader was a god that came down with other gods. That they were there when the first civilizations were forged, guiding man as they advanced.

The leader had always loomed in the community like a shadow, with his dark robes and his black hair against his pale skin, he was like some dark angel on Earth. He would walk around and deal with troubles in the community, settling disputes and administering justice. You’ve grown fond of him, he was always gentle to you, his soft voice always over your shoulder showering you with praises as you cooked for everyone. 

After everyone was served dinner he thanked you for the wonderful meal and asked if you would meet him before midnight outside his cabin. You stood outside his door under the moonlight, it grew quite dark in the commune at night when the torches were turned off. His voice creaked in the door like he instantly knew of your presence. Come in, his voice echoed in your head. 

You opened the door to his cabin, it was a small space. There was a fireplace at the back of the room with an antique throne chair near it, his bed at the side with animal furs as rugs. There were some old relics on a shelf along with some old leather-bound books. Some torches lit the room, the cold air leaving your skin in exchange for the heat of the fire. 

“How was your day?” he asked, approaching you with a swiftness that felt inhuman. His hand reached for yours, warm around your cold palms. His blue eyes were set on yours. “Dinner was splendid as always.”

“It was good,” you said, your voice hitched at the end of the sentence. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Well, you’re always splendid,” he said smiling. Your eyes were set on your feet avoiding his gaze. His index finger touches your chin, lifting it so that your eyes meet his. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

You swore for a second that his eyes glimmered a faint gold. 

“Do you know what people say about me?” he asked, leaving you to place more wood on the fire. There were indeed whispers about Druig. That he was a god with the power to influence people’s minds, or that he was one of the angels that rebelled against god. 

“They say you were a trickster, that you toyed with man’s deepest desires,” you said. He hovered around you, his cold presence made the hairs on your skin rise. “Or that you’re a fallen angel.”

“I’m no angel,” he laughs. “But I do know everyone’s deepest fantasies.”

“How so?”

“Not important—but it is interesting that you find the idea of me seducing you somewhat arousing,” he whispered to your ear. You fell back in shock, your back falling into his chest. He trails his nose on the skin on your nape, taking in your scent. 

You had thought about it, his dominating presence was arousing to you. You would sometimes think of it at night as you touched yourself, wanting him to take you for his. Maybe the whispers were right, he truly was a trickster god. 

“What a naughty boy you are,” he smirked, he traced his fingers on your arm, his light touches drove you insane. You wanted him to touch you so bad. “If I told you that the whispers are true would you run away from me?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, sir.”

He walked around so that his body was in front of you, towering over you. “Do you trust me?” he said, his hands cupping your face. 

“Yes, sir.”

He takes you near the fireplace, taking a seat on the throne chair, legs sprawled. Kneel, his voice whispered inside your head, as if it were your thoughts. Tonight you give up yourself to me, that is what you want right? You nod, looking up at him as you knelt. 

Show me how you pleasure yourself to the thought of me. 

Your cock throbbed inside your pants, you palmed it to the sound of his voice inside your head. You took out your sex and started stroking, it was achingly hard. You let saliva drip out of your lips to your cock, the slippery sensation drawing out moans from you. You see him start to palm his erection, looking at you with a smirk on his lips, something about this amused him. 

He took out his thick cock and started to stroke it at the very same pace you were stroking. His free hand cupped his balls as his pink tip glistened against the fire. In your head, you would have crawled to him and taken him into your mouth. You felt drunk like any sense of inhibition was taken away from you as your fingers wrapped around your cock.

Would you give yourself up to me? 

You nodded like a hungry dog, eyes beady in front of him. Druig looked down onto the moaning mess at his feet, cock leaking, your face flushed as your hand pumped your sex. He wanted to take things further, control your mind to his pleasure. To place himself inside your body for him to control, he had never done it with anyone, but your pleading eyes made him almost lose it.

“Please use me, sir.”

That was it. You saw his eyes fully glow a bright gold, like shining stars in front of you. Your body felt light like your soul lifted from your body. You were fully aware of your body’s sensations but you couldn’t move your limbs. Druig was in control of your body, he could feel your hardness alongside his. With his own will, your hands started to stroke your cock, his hand stroking his own at the same pace. It felt like someone else’s hands were stroking you, it was a strange but satisfying feeling. 

Your body felt insane, like your body had two souls, your and his taking control of your body. Your hips started to thrust into your hand, you were fully fucking your hand like it were someone's body. Druig’s hand was already wet with precum, the slippery sounds of your cocks filled the room alongside the sounds of burning wood. The sight was intoxicating to Druig, a moaning mess, you were. Your body crawled nearer to him, his hand running through your hair as he pumped his cock. 

Your whole arm was moving like clockwork, stroking your member to the point that it was aching red, leaking precum on the carpeted floor. Druig was close, his hips bucking into his hand as his chest heaved. You were already panting, sweat dripping down your forehead. You looked up at him, mouth agape as you reached for air. Druig projected his pleasure to your mind, the feeling was so alien to your body that it drew your mind to a blur, the pleasure coursing through your body like a strange wave of electricity. 

The feeling of the two of you nearing climax in your feeble mundane mind was sending you into ecstasy, you were panting like crazy, Druig too. He was groaning under his breath, his thick cock blushing pink as he stood up holding your head. At the same stroke of your hands, you shot cum on his leather boots crying out in pleasure, as Druig let out a loud groan of pleasure as his cum released into your mouth, some smearing across your face. 

You dropped down to the carpet floor in fatigue, chasing your breath after what happened. Druig picked you up and carried you to his bed, cleaning you up with a damp cloth. He later joined you in bed, stroking your hair as he whispered praises into your ear. Myths were right, the trickster god did indeed toy with people’s pleasure. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[sideblogofhell]

a dip in the lake

summary: the two of you take a jog to the lake. pairing: sam wilson x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, top!sam, lake s3x, outdoor s3x, unprotected s3x(dont do this obviously), public s3x a/n: part two of the event hope u liek it

main masterlist | the repentant's corner

 It was a quiet afternoon in Louisiana. You were pouring cold water into a bottle, it was a really hot day. Sam Wilson was outside practicing with his shield, you could hear the vibranium disk bouncing off of his makeshift training area in your backyard. You went out with the cold bottle, dripping with condensation in your hand. 

He was drenched in sweat despite his sleeveless shirt and his shorts. The red and blue shield flying through the air like a flying blade. He catches it in one swift movement, spinning around to catch the momentum, his muscular arms flexing as he holds the shield. He notices you right away, sinking the shield into the soil.

“Hey, pretty,” he said, taking the bottle from you. Water drips from the corner of his mouth as he downs the liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said, wiping his sweat with your sleeve. 

“Wanna walk?” he asked. “Just down to the lake.”

“Sure.”

“Race you there!” he said, tapping on your shoulder before he ran. You huddled after him, your speed would never match against his but you tried. 

You arrived at the foot of the lake, the blue waters shining like a sheet of mirror against the sun. You caught him by the lakeshore unfazed, you–catching your breath like your life depended on it. “Fuck, you know I’m not built for this,” you said, your words breaking under your breath. 

He laughs playfully, handing you the water bottle. You gulped all the contents of the bottle until your mouth ran dry, sweat drenching your back. You notice him take off his shirt, your eyes wandering to his buff body, sweat glistening all over the expanse of his chest and abs. 

“It is too hot,” you said, fanning yourself with the collar of your shirt. 

“I know. I’ll keep my distance,” he jokingly said. You gave him a side-eye before you saw him untie his shorts.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Let’s take a dip!” 

He pulls his shorts down to his ankles, his body bare naked for anyone to see. He dips his feet at the edge of the water just around his toes. “Sam, someone might see us!”

He scans his head around to check. “No one’s here, plus the water is cold,” he shakes his body around as if he’s freezing. You tried to look around and see as well and sure enough no one was around. You took the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, the heat of the sun stinging your skin. Once you were fully unclothed you joined him in the water.

 He was right. The water was cold, the heat leaving your body as you walked deeper and deeper. The water hugged your chest as you stood in front of Sam, his hands on your waist as you tiptoed on the lakebed to meet his gaze. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your toes felt the sand below. He took your face and placed gentle kisses on your cheeks and down to your lips. He inched close enough for your chests to touch. He sucks on your skin lightly, you feel a hardness hitting your skin. His hands fall on the curve of your back, kneading the mound. 

You make out for a few minutes, your lips swollen at this point. You two shared gazes half-lidded as he pulls on your thighs to wrap around him. The buoyancy aids in the action as you feel light around his body. Your erection pressed on his abdomen. 

He carries you out of the lake, laying you on the pool of clothes you left behind. You marveled at the gorgeous man on top of you. His large arms pinning your arms, your legs laying on his wide thighs. “Need this,” he said, teasing the hole. 

“Go for it, please.”

He spits on his hand and places two fingers in your hole. He stretched the muscle to prepare you, hitting your spot in the process. You shudder from the contact, your fingertips scratching his back. Your hands go to your cock, stroking it at the same pace as his fingers. Your moans overshadow the sounds of the birds in the trees. 

“Babe, put it in. It’s okay,” you groan. 

He spits another time on his hands to lube his cock, the tip pressing on the tight muscle. Your head falls back as his cock enters you, he presses kisses all over your clavicles to ease you up. His ass clenches as the base of his cock meets your ass, he’s fully inside. The fullness creates an immense feeling of euphoria all throughout your body, your eyes rolling back. 

He starts to thrust slowly, a slight sting hits your back. His finger’s start to dig into the soil, his groans fill your senses. You yelp out as he quickened his pace with the sound of slapping skin. He gestures for you to change positions, his back to the ground as you straddle his hips. You start to ride him at a steady pace, your hands on his pecs. 

His hips start to thrust at the same pace as yours, riding him with the breeze flowing through your hair. His wet skin glistens under the sunlight, his mouth agape has he lets out guttural moans. He strokes your cock in the process, precum leaking off the tip. 

“Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

In the moment your bodies were pure aroused energy, your bodies moving for the sole mission of pleasure. You grew drunk from the sensation, his large hands holding onto your thighs as his hips go in and out of your hole. “Yeah, ride it baby,” he moans.

“ –So big, fuck.”

Your legs start to weaken, his hips start to slow as he lets out long thrusts, his cock filling already. You start to ride him faster to quickly reach your highs. Your fingers dig into his chest as cum spurts out all over his chest. He whimpers from the sensitivity of his cock with your pace, emptying inside you. 

The two of you ride your highs before you collapse next to him on the ground. You stare at the blue sky as you catch your breath. “If this is your definition of a jog then maybe we should do it often,” you laughed.

He laughs, bending over to place a kiss on your temples. “Fuck yeah.”

comments/ reblogs/likes are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[sideblogofhell]

a lesson in friction

summary: you have the hots for your professor pairing: dane whitman x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, frottage, dry humping, professor/student, dni if uncomfy a/n: first entry to the kink challenge have fun!

main masterlist | the repentant's corner

“Kinetic friction is a force present when the contact surfaces move with respect to each other,” your physics professor said. His midnight blue sleeves rolled up along his muscular forearms as he pointed at the slideshow. “ It is also known as sliding friction and acts on surfaces sliding past one another.”

Your eyes wander to his slicked black hair and his eyes that look like bottomless pits. The topmost buttons opened revealing some hair on his chest. You crossed your legs from the growing heat in your center, your mind falling into the palms of lust. 

The hour went by in a blur, you listened to his voice steadfast, taking down notes and copying the words on the screen. You couldn’t really focus, his shirt was tight against his toned body, his arms shown definition, his waist small and his ass—

“That’s all for today everyone,” he said, closing his laptop and turning off the screen. “And by the way, I’m staying behind for another thirty minutes if anyone wants some feedback on their papers.”

Everyone leaves except for you, fumbling to get your things tidied up before you speak to him. “Professor Whitman, I’d like to talk to you about my paper.”

“Sure thing, come closer so I can see it.”

You went to the first row seats of the class, he stands inches away from your face, his waist perpendicular to your skull. He takes a finger to your paper, pointing out some errors in your computation. He takes a pencil off the desk and wraps his body around yours. 

His left arm pressed against the seat’s backrest and his right arm around you holding the pencil. He circled on the mistakes in your solution and gave a few comments on how you can improve. You could feel his warmth cover you, his musky scent fills your senses and the friction between your bodies elicits a soft moan. 

He places his left hand on your shoulder to rub it, “Fantastic work, some minor revisions here and there and you’d get a perfect score,” your cheeks start to heat up from the touch. He leaves your side to put his laptop in his leather messenger bag, wrapping the charging cord around his hands. “How’s the internship going, you’re in that tech apprenticeship, right?” you nod. 

As you tried to get up you felt a pain in between your legs, your cock aching hard, straining against your jeans. You quickly sat back down so he wouldn't notice. You heard him snicker under his breath. “Havin’ trouble there?”

Panic rose from your spine, you were caught and this will go badly. He sat on the edge of the large hardwood table in front of you, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t sit properly throughout class, always moving your legs around like you had your balls stung by an ant.”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Whitman—”

“It’s alright, typical arousal response to stimuli,” his eyes were dead set on yours as he spoke. “May I ask if I’m the stimulus in this situation?”

You nod in shame. You looked down on the desk avoiding his gaze. You heard the table creak, he slowly inched closer. His index finger went to your chin, lifting your face back to his gaze. “What was it then, was it my touch?” he said as he caressed your cheeks. You nod like a dog given a treat. “No need for apologies, I’m simply here to help.”

He gestured for you to stand, you tried to rearrange your hardness so as not to tent. He places his thumb on your lips. He asks for you permission before he presses his own lips to yours. The heat, lifting towards him. You groaned under his breath as his tongue reached for yours. 

He spun you around, your ass against the hardwood desk, his hand went to your crotch caressing your erection. You moaned aloud as you felt a wetness form from your tip. He played with you through frictions, your hands gripped onto his muscular arms. 

“Go lock the door and come back here,” he ordered. 

The silence in the room was broken by the sound of a lock. He takes your hands and presses them on the table, your back arched towards his waist. You could feel his own erection press against your ass as he starts to thrust on your jeans, the friction sending electricity through his skin. 

Your own hardness was rubbing against the edge of the table. He started to place kisses all over your nape up to your ear, his hands caressing your torso. The heat emanating from his body was like a drug to you, his scent was addicting and his moans on your ear was borderline erotic. 

He starts to unbutton your jeans until your leaking cock was bare against the airconditioned room. He lets his palm out in front of you and spits on it. The sight was so lewd coming from him you started to get dizzy. His wet hands touched the sensitive tip of your cock making you shudder in response. He takes this as a sign to wrap the remaining fingers around the shaft slowly sliding up and down. 

Your mouth let out nothing but grunt and groans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, his hands jerking you off while his hips rut against your back. Your head falls back against his shoulder as your hips thrust into his hand. You feel your climax coming, your noises sounded like you were pleading for release. The friction of his hand against the sensitive head broke the dam inside you, you let out a cry as cum shot off into the desk. You hear him moan as well as his thrusts become erratic, you share one last kiss after you ride your highs.

“Sorry about the desk,” you uttered.

“Don’t worry, at least it's not your trousers,” he gestures for the wet patch in his pants. 

You laugh. “I should go, thanks I guess?” you said in confusion. 

“Anytime,” he laughs as well. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[sideblogofhell]

the repentant's corner

seek penance or forever fall in darkness.

→ main masterlist

† a lesson in friction [dane whitman | frottage] † a dip in the lake [sam wilson | outdoor sex] † a body with two souls [druig | mind control] † a forbidden fruit [pietro maximoff | sex pollen] † a dance with the enemy [ikaris| hate sex]