#marvel men being hot

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Gentlemen's Bond [Female.Reader x Loki/Bucky/Steve]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Set a time after A Gentlemen's Agreement, you and Loki decide to open up your bedroom. And who better to join you? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Foursome. Smut. FMMM. Includes buttsmut. Cumplay. Consent is sexy. Dirty talk. (w/c 3.7k)

“Make no mistake gentlemen, she is mine,” Loki uttered. The words tripped menacingly from his tongue. He placed a languishing kiss on the curve of your neck to make his point, a soft whimper from your lips making him smirk against the crescent. The men in front of you groaned in unison.

You knelt in front of him on the bed. His bed. The only place your fantasies shall be fulfilled. He had been emphatic about that. “You are but guests here,” he murmured in the loaded, sensual voice usually reserved for when you were alone. The god knelt behind you, upright on his knees. The rippled carving of his firm stomach pressed against your shoulder-blades as he massaged your breasts. Calloused thumb-tips tugged achingly slowly at hard nipples. You whimpered as his hands slid down your waist, steadying one against your hip while the other made lazy circles on your clit. “Rentals, if you will,” he sniffed. At the barb, Rogers and Barnes stiffened. Their tops had been stripped, but the buckles of their belts remained politely fastened. Bucky shuffled, popping his hip with his thumbs tucked inside the waist of his jeans. You saw the flash of deeply muscled lines grooves come into view. Saliva welled in your mouth. Loki chuckled. “I meant no offence,” he purred, dipping his chin to nuzzle your collarbone. “But gentlemen, if our latest bond and its stipulations are to be upheld, then we must be crystal clear on who makes the rules.” Your eyes rose from the bulge of Loki’s flexing forearm as he stroked possessively between your legs, only his thumb visible grazing your mound. They slid from Bucky to Steve, the unmistakeable hunger in their stares making you dizzy. Heavy breaths made their chests rise and fall, broad shoulders shifting as each tried to make themselves bigger. More enticing. Like beasts, you thought with a smile. Ready to mate. “Me,” you said suddenly, biting your lip. Loki growled under his breath in approval. “I make the rules,” you finished.

“Yes, my darling” Loki said, letting his dark gaze wander upwards on the two super-soldiers straining against their trousers, waiting to be unleashed. “You do.” His fingertips cupped against your clit, pushing up. You hissed with pleasure as Steve groaned a long, shaking sigh. “Run through the rules again, I jus’ wanna...jus’ wanna be sure,” he grunted, fingers now drawn irrevocably to the polished sheen of his buckle.

“It is quite simple,” Loki breathed, the warmth of his skin fading as he drew up behind you. His knees sank into the mattress on either side of your hips. Your lover’s fingers massaged your neck, your eyelids fluttering closed on the sight of the soldiers looking sheepish as they fumbled with their heavy buckles. Loki’s voice was hard. Commanding. Fucking hot.

“She and I are bound. She is mine, as I am hers. She is under my protection. This is an invitation. An interlude, do not think it more,” he announced regally, squeezing your shoulders. He might be naked, but from the unwavering strength of his words he may as well have been in full Asgardian battle armour. The men in front of you nodded reverently. You could see the pulse points in their necks thumping. Beneath the tight material of their cotton slacks and dark jeans, snaking muscle stretched thick and tight against their hips. So hard. They were so fucking hard. Loki continued, as their stares smouldered. “If she tells you to stop, and you do not immediately desist?” he said, warning licking at the timbre of his voice like flame. “Before you can finish the next thrust, lick, or wander of an unwelcome hand, you will feel the edge of my dagger slice across your throat. Understood?”

You watched the men cast a glance towards one another, before they gave a nod of solidarity. “Still fair,” Bucky husked, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them to the corner in a crumpled heap. Steve was already folding his, turning to place them neatly on the wing-back chair by the door. “Whatever the lady wants, and nothing more, as agreed in the bond,” the blonde placated as he faced you and Loki with a lowering of his chin. You could feel the god bristle with power behind you. “We just really wanna fuck you babe,” Bucky growled with a smile, his chin tucked to his chest. “Respectfully,” Steve added, throwing his friend a scowl as the winter soldier’s jaw bobbed playfully side to side in mock scepticism. You smirked, feeling Loki lower to your ear. “You’re sure?” he murmured. The long tendrils of his hair wound through your fingers as you tilted your chin to face him. “Yes. But it’s always you. You know that, right?” The words filled the tiny space between your lips before Loki pressed his mouth to yours. His furiously hard cock was swollen snug against your spine. “Always,” he moaned quietly into your mouth. In slow tandem, you swung your gazes to meet the two sets of blue eyes already drunk with lust at the foot of the bed. “May we?” Steve said softly, gesturing to the empty side of mattress on your left with an arch of an eyebrow. You nodded, feeling the tingle of Loki’s breath on your cheek as his hands slid down your biceps. “Positions, gentlemen” he purred formally, “as discussed.” You had left the arrangements of the details of this debauched affair to your lover, a role that he was more than happy to fill. Once again, the idea of the three of them sharing conspiratorial conversations in the locker rooms filled your mind. It was foreplay. You squirmed on the bed, thighs splayed open as the gusset of your panties dragged wet. Or did they book a meeting room, you thought with a thrill.

The mattress sagged on either side, Steve and Bucky descending. Their stares crawled covetously over your curves as Loki loomed above like an archangel; sculpted from marble by Michelangelo himself. The brunette soldier leant forward, his metal palm spread against the sheets as his parted lips met yours. You sighed into his touch, running your fingers over his temple and combing back the long strands while his tongue danced in your mouth. He didn't taste like whisky this time, you noticed. The digits ran down his neck, feeling every tense of the ferocious muscle hiding beneath his skin. Loki’s cupped fingers massaged your clit, waves of pleasure building while his low, ragged breaths ghosted your ear.

Your fingers grazed down Bucky’s back, feeling raised trails and valleys of scar tissue. Bucky shivered, breaking from your lips. A strand of saliva hung between you before you turned, immediately meeting the mouth of the blonde soldier waiting impatiently to your right. The taste of his teammate was still strong on your tongue as you kissed him in a rising waft of ginger from his skin, melting together with your back still pressed to Loki’s chest.

Suddenly Loki pulled you back, letting Barnes slip your calves from beneath you. The brunette pushed your knees apart, thighs falling open. “Fuck, girl” he rasped, running a hand through messy, curtained hair with a sigh, “that’s fuckin’ pretty.” Your head lay against Loki’s lap, his violently hard cock pressed against your ear. You could feel the blood thumping through his veins, every pump throbbing against the angle of your jaw. The god lowered a lingering kiss to your lips, his tongue melting inside your mouth while Bucky’s began to run flat licks against your little cunt. Your pretty cunt. The moans from his throat were different from those you were accustomed to from Loki. Half-formed words lingered on heavy breaths that retained the thick accent slopping against his worship. You moaned like a whore as another set of lips fastened to a nipple, soft fingers toying and pinching the other. Your eyelids fluttered open, the sight of a muss of blonde hair latched to your chest while a chestnut crown rose between your splayed legs. It felt strange. Naughty. And it felt fucking good. Bucky’s thumbs dug into your hips, a shock of metal making you buck into him as cool steel became warmth. Loki’s voice bubbled in the air like liquid silver, the sound making it all feel like a lucid dream. “That’s my girl. Let them service you, pleasure you,” it said slowly. Your fingers wound in the short strands of Steve’s hair, the other grasping a tuft of Bucky’s, urging him deeper. They moaned in unison against your heated skin. The sound was transcendent. “Let them worship you, as I do,” Loki hummed as he watched in rapture, cock twitching against your cheek. “Just for tonight.” The cacophony of sighs dashed against your body like waves on rocks, wearing away any insecurities you ever had with each muted groan of pleasure. The coil winding inside you began to tremble and tighten. Your eyes refocused to Loki’s jaw set above your widening stare. His lips were parted, his whole body smouldering with arousal. Eyes fixed on you, writhing beneath him under the soldiers’ charms. “L-Loki, I’m gonna co-” you panted, seeking his approval in a moment of doubt. His knuckles trailed over the lines of your jaw, over the tight skin as the veins in your neck strained. Your head pressed heavy against his thighs, his fingers steadying beneath your chin as he held you in place. And still, his darkened eyes were fixed on you. “Come for them, sweet. Let them hear how beautiful you sound as you tumble over the edge,” he cooed in sultry tones, loud enough for the men to hear. Bucky suckled your clit with a wet growl, alternating wide licks that started deep in your core to the tip. The captain’s fingers tightened around your nipple, his tongue a soothing balm against the pulling sucks on the other. And with a shudder, you came. Your thighs tightened against Barnes’ head, a hand clawing down Steve’s muscled back as you shook the room with your cries of each of their names. A gush of arousal flooded the winter soldier’s outstretched tongue.

“Lie down, our good girl.” The command made chills run over your skin like the breeze from a fan. You felt Loki shift behind you, his huge frame filling your blurred vision as Steve and Bucky parted like the sea. He was so fucking beautiful, and he was all yours. Completely un-phased. The winter soldier pulled your ankles, sliding your ass to rest on the bed’s edge. Loki gracefully slotted himself crouched between your wet thighs, as you mewled his name. He chuckled, dragging his achingly turgid cock tight in his fist against your slit. “Are you happy?” he murmured solemnly. You nodded with a sex-drunk smile. “Then, gentleman,” Loki purred, casting a knowing glance to each side in turn, “positions.” The head of the god’s cock pressed inside your channel, dipping in and out as you arched up into him. Begging for more. Loki tutted playfully. He was crouching between your spread legs, hovering. “Patience, darling. We must wait for our guest.” On cue, you felt something cool and thick slather between your cheeks. Your hips bucked upwards, caught by Loki’s waiting palms. Relax, his eyes said. And so you did. A solitary ragged moan of anticipation dragged the air behind Loki’s triangular chest. Bucky. You looked up, Steve’s hardened features coming into view. The angles of his cheekbones had sharpened, pupils blown wide. He lowered, kissing you upside down as Barnes fingers played with your ass. Suddenly you felt something wide and hot nudge against your back entrance, testing you. Teasing you. “Yes,” you groaned in between Steve’s ravenous kisses, “fuck-k, yes Buck.” With a guttural moan, he edged inside; stilling as your fingers wrapped around Loki’s forearms. “More,” you gasped, pulling. Bucky obliged. Inch by inch, he filled you until his hips hit the curve of your cheeks with a gentle slap.

For a few moments, there was silence.

Each of the men held their breath, three sets of smouldering eyes drinking in the sight of the woman strewn in ecstasy beneath them. Their woman. If just for one night. “Loki, please,” you whined, thrusting up to catch his cock. All you wanted was to be filled and fucked and filled and fucked again. Loki chuckled, watching as your eyes lowered between your legs at the sight of him sinking slowly inside. The vein that had pulsed against your cheek was hard and thick along his shaft as it disappeared. Inch by goddam inch. The noise that strangled from your throat was inhuman. How appropriate, you mused; before your whole body was set alight with pleasure. Loki rocked in and out your slit, the gentle motion of his ass clenching and unclenching making your eyes roll back. How, you wondered in amazement, as Steve’s tongue massaged your own, his unfettered moans filling your throat; how is this actually happening?

The captain had taken over control of your breasts, his dexterous fingers flipping and pinching your nipples. Each wave was timed, the slow gyration of Loki and Barnes making your legs tremble. Loki slipped his forearms under your knees, hoisting you higher, his cock delving deeper. Bucky gasped gruffly, his girth sinking deeper in your ass. “H-holy shit, man” he stuttered, metal fingers steadying on Loki’s shoulder, “Shit, b-baby...you feel so fuckin’ good I swear to god.” That accent was syrup, dripping from his parted lips as he fucked you slowly. Carefully. As if you might break. And hell, maybe you would. Another climax blossomed like fire on a struck match, taking you surprise as you clenched around the furious lust filling you.

You couldn’t recall whose name you cried. Tonight, it didn’t matter. The men groaned like farmyard beasts, Bucky’s hips beginning to shudder and jolt against soft curves of flesh. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, the slap of his balls against your skin growing louder. Loki slowed the gyration of his hips, the tip of his manhood massaging your g-spot as Barnes roared behind him.

The soldier’s other hand flew to Loki’s shoulder, both squeezing in painful passion. The dark god's head fell back with a hiss as he filled you to the hilt, hair strewn in messy tendrils across his damp forehead while Bucky came behind him with a shuddering litter of curses. Every buck of your hips made sure he sank deeper, rolling with each dying syllable. Loki tilted forward as the brunette’s heavy breaths filled the air. His forehead pressed between your ringmaster's shoulder-blades, hands sliding reluctantly from the thick ropes of muscle on which they rested. “Fuck,” was all James Barnes could muster, as his cock slid gently from your ass. Loki didn’t slow his gyration as there was a changing of the guard behind your head.

Your prince's moans slipped through gritted teeth, half lidded eyes observing every searching twitch of your hands. Every crease in your forehead. Every gasp of his name.

A light sting clapped your ass, immediately massaging deep in the cheeks. You cried out, back leaving the mattress. “Careful!” Loki spat, throwing a dangerous glance over his shoulder. Out the corner of your eye, you lovingly noted the flash of emerald seidr melt from his palm. “Sorry,” Steve murmured, rubbing the surely pinked skin in apology. You squirmed with pleasure, feeling the raw stubble from Bucky’s jaw scratch over your cheek as Loki moved in shallow, pulsing thrusts. The winter soldier pressed your breasts together, beginning to palm them in circles as Steve’s cock nudged against your back entrance, still slippery with cum. A finger ran around the pucker, collecting the neglected white ropes before sucking it clean. The sound he made was filth as he edged inside, a slurping squelch of seed squeezing around his girth making his knees buckle. His fingertips sank into your flesh, pulling you onto him again and again. Carefully. Slowly. “Steve...J-James...Loki,” you mewled, making the men chuckle in unison. You could feel orgasm bubbling in your centre, wound tight and bursting with adrenaline and cum and cock. Bucky lowered his mouth to yours, sweat from his cheeks moistening your own. “You sound real fuckin’ cute when you say our names babe,” Bucky growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Y-yeah. Hell-yeah,” Steve gasped through staggered breaths; every pump of his hips into your ass making his eyes roll back. His face was flushed with desire, tongue darting against his bottom lip as he desperately fought to contain what you were sure were the worst curses he would ever utter. Every muscle in your body tightened as you came, the feral roars from Loki and Steve sheathed inside you making you shudder as Bucky held your shoulders fast to the bed. Stars blossomed beneath your eyelids, the erotic music of their adoration making your head spin. Steve came first, pulling your ass flush to his hips as he tumbled into ecstasy with a strangled cry of your name. He was shaking, sweaty palms not knowing where to steady himself before he slumped against Loki’s back. On cue, Loki raised your calves higher, his gentle thrusts turning with a glint in his eye. They narrowed, smouldering down at you with utter devotion as another clench of his ass sent him to the hilt. “My perfect little fox,” he grunted, voice thick with desire, dripping like wax. “End me.” Your fingers gripped the bedsheets as you felt Steve slip from your ass, hearing him stumble against the wall. Clenching around Loki’s cock, you bucked up into him with all the force you could muster. Wrung dry, spent, utterly fucked out – there was always more. For him, there was always more. Loki’s hands gripped your wrists, pushing your hands upwards against Bucky’s chest as his face buried in the sweaty crescent of your neck. He came hard, a violent juddering of his hips accompanying silence before his wet, thunderous exhale of pleasure. His breaths were heavy as he sat up, running a hand through his hair with a grin. As perfect as he ever was, but with a pink tinge in his cheeks. He stood, walking over the bed with a smile as he watched you writhe. Empty and missing them.

“Wait man, didn’t you blow?” Bucky said sceptically. He motioned to the thick cock still proudly bobbing between Loki’s thighs with no sign of abatement. The god chucked, throwing you a knowing smirk. You cleared your throat, still panting. “He’s different-” you mumbled, running your eyes hungrily down your full-time lover’s achingly hot body and back to his face. “Which is a good thing too, since this one is never sated,” Loki purred, as the men switched positions again. “Well goddam,” Bucky muttered, impressed. Your hand grasped out to thin air, searching for someone, anyone, to fill it. On cue, Bucky spread his thighs beside you, your fingers wrapping gratefully around his semi. Steve’s face scrunched, any jealousy washed away with a proceeding squeeze of his fist around his spent manhood. The final milk dripped against your ass. "Ya done big guy?" Bucky teased, a smile tugging his dimples as the captain's resolve settled back on his face. "Nossir," Steve growled, licking his lips as determined eyes roamed up your legs. In a flash, he began working wet kisses up your calves, your thighs, grunts filling the air once again. Bucky's manhood was growing tentatively in your loose fist, wanking him slowly as Loki's thighs settled on either side of your head.

“Jeez man, she tastes so good,” Steve moaned muffled against your slit. Bucky groaned in appreciation while your hand slipped up and down his length. The pace was erratic, squeezing hard and jolting with every circle of Rogers eager tongue around your clit.

“I think that might be me, your tasting,” Loki hummed, knuckles white as he stroked himself slowly above your head. You could see every straining vein on his shaft from below, the wet head tapping tantalisingly on your cheek, on your lips with every squeeze of his hand. Conducting the men like a choir. Just out of reach. “Both of you?" Steve slurred happily to himself, lost in the elixir of arousal between your legs. Fingers worked through Steve’s hair, looping back to clutch more as every messy kiss against your pussy sent you higher. Your back arched, tongue stretching upwards. You managed to lap the smooth, hot tip of Loki’s cock while he watched Rogers busy himself between your open thighs. His hand never ceased pleasuring himself, smouldering with primal need as mischievous glint you hadn’t seen before sparked in his eyes.

“Fuck,” Loki groaned, letting your lips wrap loosely around the leaking head. You sucked against his foreskin, pulling it gently between your lips. “Say his name, darling” Loki teased, voice like sea foam melting into sand, “tell the captain how good he’s making you feel. He’ll like that.” You moaned Steve’s name, filthy praise like a chant as your hips rocked against his mouth. The blonde’s fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your thighs, enthusiastic pants and the crease in his brow betraying his basest desires. Praise kink, you thought smugly; before stars burst again beneath your closed eyelids. Feeling the brush of Loki’s cock against your cheek beneath the flurry of his fist, you came with a rush of garbled curses. Sweetness flooded against the captain’s tongue as he trailed languishing licks, orgasm fading like breath on a mirror. Loki’s stomach muscles clenched, a roar filling the room as he came over your face. Hot splatter coated your lips, rolling in slow, thick trails of ambrosia over your chin, your jaw, down the curve of your neck. Bucky whined. The mattress dipped as Steve’s palms edged forwards, his body rising like goliath between your shaking legs. His mouth glistened with sex and sweat, eyes fierce and dark as hell. That stare traced every decadent rivulet of Loki’s mess before his gaze rose to its owner. “Do it,” Loki commanded slowly, smiling as he continued to stroke himself. A final drop squeezed out, landing with a filthy splat on your chin. Steve shivered, lowering his sweat damp face your shoulder. He licked upwards, growing braver as he followed the trail of Loki’s cum with dirty groans that shook through your chest. Eventually, Steve’s mouth covered yours, alternating between claiming your kiss and licking the remnants of god-seed from your cupids bow. His tongue tasted like Loki. The sensation made you clench around air. “Good boy,” Loki hummed, running his fingers through Steve’s hair as he buried himself in your neck. There was a pause, the scent of animalism thick in the air. “But now, gentlemen, it is time for you to depart.” Steve looked up with wide eyes. You heard Bucky grunt in annoyance. “You know the rules, gentlemen,” Loki continued. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “I think the lady has taken what she needs, don’t you?” The words registered in a haze. You nodded, smiling happily as your head lay nestled between the god’s comforting thighs. “Thanks boys,” you mumbled, slurred while you waved a hand that fell immediately back to the bed. The mattress shifted as bodies rose. You heard the low clunk of metal and shifting of fabric dragging against body hair as deft, familiar fingertips danced up your thigh. A tender kiss was placed on the centre of your mound as the door clicked shut. Alone again. “Happy Anniversary,” Loki breathed, seductive and hot against the tremble. Your let out a spent sigh, lost in the gentle motion of his soft kisses and pretty words. Outside, you could hear the slap of palms on shoulders as the soldiers left in measured silence. “It’s always you, Loki,” you purred again, blissfully winding fingers through his damp curls as he kissed closer to your centre. With a tingle of his magic, you felt yourself cleansed, the sex and sweat of the others dissipated. You craned down with difficulty, seeing feigned confusion etched across his forehead. “Well, yes” he purred, widening your legs with a sultry wink. “Which is why we’ve saved the best for last.”

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Bucky’s nostrils flared before he put his hands on your hips. “Baby, you’re stunning. A fucking goddess. I should drop to my knees and worship you right now,” he said, his words warming your heart and starting to overpower the mean voice in your head. “Did I do something to make you feel any less than that?”

This is almost teetering me over the edge into Bucky for the New Year 😂😂 I absolutely LOVED this!!! Loved it!!! I adore how you write Bucky - I'm familiar with some variations of him with writers I know and they are all so distinct (that's the beauty of Bucky!) - and this one? This one?!

He let out a breath. “I guess part of me just doesn't want to share you with the rest of them. Not tonight,” he admitted, his smile bordering on apologetic. “Because you're my girl.”

Just bury me😂 The tenderness. The dialogue. The smouldering devotion. The dog tags. Perfect, just perfect. Thank you for this delightful flirtation to the other side. I LOVE how you used that picture as inspiration. Fabulous. You are an absolutely incredible writer, truly.

With a Bang

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You want to look nice for the New Year's Eve party and Bucky doesn't want to share you with anyone else. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Insecurities, established relationship, implied explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Last writing for 2023! You lovelies wanted Bucky for NYE. Also dedicating this to @tumblin-theworldaway after chatting about the photo below and for being so supportive throughout the year. Love you, Aqua! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“It isn’t too late to back out!” Bucky called out from the living room.

You couldn’t help but smile as you slipped your shoes on. Tony had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve bash at the tower and everyone was expected to be there, but your boyfriend wasn’t exactly thrilled to go.. You had a feeling he didn’t want to deal with the crowd or the noise, but planned to suck it up since you wanted to go. You wouldn’t make him stay long.

Just long enough to make an appearance before you two went home to ring in the New Year together.

“But I got all dressed up for you, Bucky!” You called back, groaning a little as you looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

You had examined your reflection from just about every angle to make sure you looked as close to perfection as you could achieve. The short dress wasn't too fancy or too casual, all black to go with Bucky's t-shirt since he insisted that he wasn’t dressing up for the party. The fabric hugged you in all the right ways and showed off just enough skin to keep his attention, but covered enough to leave him craving more.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you hoped Bucky liked what he saw.

“All the more reason to stay home,” he joked a little.

With a deep breath, you pushed your shoulders back and left the bedroom. You managed not to lose your footing as you found him waiting for you in the living room. The butterflies that filled your stomach never stopped fluttering at the sight of the former assassin.

“What do you think?” You asked as you did a slow twirl. “Do you like it?” You added in a quieter tone.

You wanted to look good for him.

Bucky didn't speak as his eyes swept over you from head to toe. You tried not to squirm under the heat of his gaze, but your heart rate picked up as the silence stretched on. You couldn't stop your thighs from pressing together when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“No,” he finally said, his mouth set in a grim line a heartbeat later. “No fucking way you're going out in that.”

His reaction caught you off guard and you knew your face fell at his reaction. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your voice when you mumbled, “I wanted to look nice.”

He closed in on you and held your chin in his warm hand before you could look down, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze. It was like swimming in the ocean and you allowed the waves to sweep you away. “And you do look nice. You’re so beautiful, baby. You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

You almost hid your face from embarrassment at the loving praise, but his grip prevented you from doing so. “You really think so?”

“I do,” he said, giving you a subtle smirk as his hand fell back to his side. “You’ll also look beautiful sitting on my cock, so we’re skipping the party.”

Arousal shot you like a bolt of lightning, the sensation almost making your knees buckle. As nice as that sounded, it was getting late. “And I will as soon as we get back, but we have to go,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a small tug when he made no move to get his jacket. “Come on. Everyone is going and they’re expecting you.”

“Everyone is going, but us,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips when you tried to pull him forward again. He stayed rooted to the spot. “Why do you want to go so badly?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered his question. “I don’t know. Maybe because I want to go to a New Year’s Eve party with my boyfriend and have a bit of fun,” you said, something swirling in your gut the more you thought about it. “And maybe I want people to see I can measure up to you.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes and you wished you could take that last statement back. Before the two of you started dating, you would've pegged him as an enigma. You never knew what he was thinking when he assessed people with a cool gaze. But that particular stare? You knew it well.

It was a look he always gave you when you said something self-deprecating or worse.

“Measure up to me?” He asked slowly.

You toyed with the hem of your dress with a small nod. “Yeah, Bucky. Measure up to you. Because you look like… well, that with hardly any effort,” you gestured to the t-shirt stretched over his broad chest before you pointed to his perfectly combed short hair. “And look how long it took me to look like this.”

You weren’t sure exactly why you were making a comparison. You felt beautiful and knew you looked good. But insecurities didn’t disappear overnight and sometimes surfaced at the most inopportune moments.

Bucky’s nostrils flared before he put his hands on your hips. “Baby, you’re stunning. A fucking goddess. I should drop to my knees and worship you right now,” he said, his words warming your heart and starting to overpower the mean voice in your head. “Did I do something to make you feel any less than that?”

“No, you didn’t,” you promised. Bucky was just as enamored with you as you were with him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. From the moment you met, he displayed a level of openness with you that you didn't witness with most. He was careful with who he let close to him and who could blame him after what he had been through? “I don’t know. I guess I just want your friends to see that I’m worth being by your side.”

Your boyfriend looked a little taken aback. Why did you have to open your mouth? “Are you kidding me? Baby, everyone loves you. A few don’t think I’m worthy of being with you.”

Your eyes squinted, the need to protect and defend Bucky bubbling beneath your skin. “Who said that? Tell me now and I’ll make them eat their words.”

Bucky blinked before he chuckled, his nose and eyes crinkling. It brightened up his whole face. “Easy, tiger. You can put your claws away because I put them in their place,” he said, giving you a soft kiss to distract you. “And I’m telling you if I take you there tonight, they won’t leave you alone. Tony will hit on you. Sam will flirt with you. Steve will keep checking you out, too, and he’s my best friend.”

“Good, then you’ll see what I have to put up with when I go out with you,” you teased slightly with a poke to his chest.

He scoffed and gripped your wrist. “Girls don’t hit on me.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the words that came out of his mouth. He was an old man, but he wasn’t that old. Bucky had perfect eyesight and hearing, so he certainly saw when people hit on him and heard the flirty cadence in their voices.

���Just like Steve Rogers, you’re a terrible liar. But thank you anyway,” you said, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Now why don’t you want to go to the party? Is it the crowd? Because I won’t make you go if you’re uncomfortable.”

You wouldn’t put him in a position to panic or retreat into himself if really didn’t want to go.

“I can handle that for a couple of hours. I promise.”

“Then why are you so eager to stay?” You asked, stopping him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say it’s to sleep with me. We both know you’re getting laid tonight.”

He let out a breath. “I guess part of me just doesn't want to share you with the rest of them. Not tonight,” he admitted, his smile bordering on apologetic. “Because you're my girl.”

Your heart raced again at his admission. It wasn't a red flag of possessiveness or trying to isolate you. He just wanted the pleasure of your company.

“And I’ll always be yours,” you promised, pulling him in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, the promise of more to come. A groan filled his chest as he deepened it and he didn’t stop until you felt dizzy, your breathing heavy when he pulled away.

It was a crime that he could kiss the way he did and one you wanted him to commit again and again.

“One hour,” he exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours. “One hour and I’m taking you home.”

“Two hours,” you countered, sliding your hand over his chest to feel how fast his heart raced. “And three dances.”

“Hour and a half. Two dances,” he offered, rolling his hips against yours. Your eyes fluttered as he rocked them again. “And a kiss at midnight in our bed.”

You hummed before you nodded. “Deal. And maybe, just maybe, you can even pour some champagne over my body and lick it off.”

You felt the deep rumble in his chest as his head fell back. “Fuck kissing you at midnight. I’m making you come on my cock as the clock counts down.”

Your entire body trembled, heat flooding your face before it rolled down your neck. “Nothing says ‘Happy New Year’ like an orgasm.”

He lifted his head, something soft in his eyes as he smiled. “Or being with the one you love,” he whispered, your heart skipping a beat as he pressed one more kiss to your lips. You loved him, too. “Now let’s go. I have a goddess in my arms I want to show off.”

“Okay,” you smiled, but he didn’t let you go. “Bucky?”

“Actually. One more thing,” he said, removing the dog tags from around his neck. He swallowed a bit before he put them over your head, drawing a gasp from you. “Sorry. They probably don’t go with the dress.”

You touched the dog tags with infinite tenderness, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, knowing how much it meant for him to give them to you. “Thank you.”

You’d take care of them and wear them with pride.

He breathed a sigh of relief that you accepted them. “You’re welcome,” he smiled, brushing away a tear that fell from your eye with his thumb. “Now we can go.”

Bucky was right. Of course, he was right. You turned multiple heads at the party and swore he growled when Tony, Sam, and Steve got too close, but you didn’t leave his side once. You were his girl and everyone knew it.

He even managed to get you to leave in under an hour, but made it up to you with an extra dance at home in the living room. He also gave you an earth-shattering orgasm at midnight like he promised after he stripped you down, his name spilling from your lips as he took you apart. He was still buried inside you as you kissed him, pouring your heart and soul into it. He gave all his love back to you in return.

“Happy New Year, Bucky,” you whispered, framing his face as his weight settled over you.

He traced the dog tags around your neck with a gentle smile. You didn’t want to take them off. “Happy New Year, baby,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you close. Like you were the most precious thing in the world.

As you closed your eyes, you smiled. You didn’t just ring in the New Year with a bang. You got to spend it feeling loved and whole. And you got to spend it with the best man you knew.

The one you were lucky enough to call yours.

Love and thanks to each of you lovelies for taking yet another ride on my nonsense train! ❤️ See you in 2024.

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

The older I get the more I realise there is just nothing to Jean and Logan as a couple, he's just the cool bad boy alternative to her straight laced boyfriend, and no writer has ever bothered to develop them beyond that. Logan really has more of a dynamic with Scott than he ever had with Jean. When written well, Scott and Jean feel like genuine partners with neither character overshadowing the other, but when she's paired with Logan, Jean seems to just become the love interest or worse a prize for Logan to win for being a good person, the relationship always reduces her.

[stormandforge]

Reminder that Forge isn't on this variant cover because he's busy having a face-off with his 2 exes

(X-Force #6 variant cover by Carlos Gomez.)

(main cover by Stephen Segovia)

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

[bloomingonionbitch]

(that was one of my favorite episodes of television, ever. everyone go watch Ep. 6 of "Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" and report back).

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[driaswrld]

🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.

🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog

CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *

L'INCOMPARABLE.

Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.

Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.

Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.

Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.

“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.

“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.

“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.

Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.

“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.

Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.

At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.

It was a disastrous first few encounters—

(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )

His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.

Not around you, at least.

“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.

That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.

THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.

Dearest gentle reader,

As all royal scandals do,

It started with an invitation.

We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].

This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.

What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!

Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.

But I assure you,

When it comes to matters of the heart —

Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.

You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.

And yet.

“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.

Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince

Is not the strongest.

“Some nerve you have, boy.”

Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.

You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.

And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.

“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”

Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.

You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.

No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.

“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”

You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.

“She will never be Queen.”

It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.

It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.

“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”

“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”

Three months, thirteen days.

Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.

Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.

Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.

Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.

Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.

“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”

The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.

Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.

You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.

why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me

“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”

The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.

That, and the prize.

The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.

Gentle reader,

The famed jewel for the taking

This summer, is none other than—

“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.

It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .

Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.

“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”

( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )

“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”

She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.

There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.

A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.

—The champion’s jewel,

A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.

The L’Incomparable.

“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.

Three months, thirteen days.

You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.

He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.

It’s eerily similar to your childhood.

“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.

L’Incomparable.

The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.

Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.

A gift he only got to place on her corpse.

Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.

And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.

“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.

“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”

L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.

It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.

A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.

And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.

“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.

“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”

( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )

He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.

“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.

And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.

“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”

He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.

He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.

This urge—

( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )

The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—

( it will pass. )

“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”

Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.

Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.

He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.

“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”

( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )

There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.

And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.

As if you had never been there.

The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.

L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.

Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.

You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.

Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.

It made you giggle.

The palace corridors are bustling with life.

Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.

Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.

“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”

“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.

Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.

Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.

“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”

You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.

His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.

“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”

You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—

“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”

You choke. Audibly.

Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”

“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.

Oh, fair reader, it seems

Our dear protagonist has come upon

A treasure trove of memories.

“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”

Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.

“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”

“Oh, about Prince Geto!”

Dearest reader,

Suguru Geto enters.

A man of great mystique,

the northern Prince.

And striking opposite of

our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.

“Yes! About him—”

Suguru Geto.

In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.

Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.

“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”

( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )

“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?

The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.

“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.

Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.

But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.

And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.

( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )

Faithful reader,

she could not have been

more wrong.

Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.

Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.

You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.

Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.

This time, you’re taken aback.

Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—

There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.

Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.

But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.

It's almost intimate.

When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.

You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.

( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )

˚ ༘ *

The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.

When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?

Wait, why do you even care?

You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.

Darling reader,

it was in fact,

not the tea.

Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.

Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.

One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.

And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!

Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?

( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )

Devoted reader,

our protagonist

is in denial.

“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.

( oh god, no. )

Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.

“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.

“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”

The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.

You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.

He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.

You don't doubt that.

“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”

“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.

You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.

( oh, the gloves ! )

“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.

Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.

The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.

( what a coincidence. )

˚ ༘ *

Time passes in waves.

People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.

‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’

‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’

‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’

‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’

“Bitter.”

Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.

Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.

The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.

“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”

You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.

( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )

“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”

When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”

He looks. . . disheveled.

Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—

And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .

( so that's what he was doing. )

“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.

The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?

“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.

“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”

If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.

“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.

“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.

Marriage.

Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”

Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.

“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”

When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.

“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.

Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.

“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.

Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.

But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.

My dearest reader,

brace yourself for the

next publication.

Your kind author

bids you farewell.

[cod-indulgences]

Simon x female!reader, dark Simon, chastity cages, overstimulation, forced orgasm, reference to (kidnapping?) keeping reader locked up, manipulation

Simon is a bit insecure. Can you blame him? He can see how men look at you, how you get pink and flustered when someone offers you a drink, even though your eyes always seek him out. You're too bright, too sweet and friendly, for him not to wonder in the dark hours if (when) you'll take one of those other offers.

And what if some dickhead does get up under your skirts, gets a taste of the sweet warm heaven you've been letting Simon drown in? They'd steal you away before Simon can blink.

But he knows you won't let him keep you on base, set up in his room where no one will come in without permission. Even though he'd set it up so nice, soft blankets and pillows, heated pad on the mattress to make the bed a warm nest, no need for clothes when you're all snuggled in waiting for him, a pillow between your thighs while you bury your face in his shirt and whine-

He's getting distracted.

He can't lock you up yet. But he could lock up just one part of you.

It takes some convincing to get you to agree to it ("Simon you're ridiculous, don't you trust me?" "Yes lovie, but I don't trust someone else not to get a whiff of that cunt and tear into you." "Ugh, really? Simon that's awful.") but he manages it. It's just a week to start, just seven days to test it out and make sure you're not being pinched or irritated. He picked out a nice one, cute little ring over your asshole and soft leather straps, the gleaming steel of the cage locking your cunny up tight, holes for your piss but all the soft parts hidden away. He traces the edge with his fingers and marvels at how easily you're contained, how tightly packed in the cage makes you. There's even a matching collar, that he hides away (for now).

You pout at him but he's unmoved, kisses you goodbye before heading out, lighter and more relaxed than he's been in weeks knowing the key to your belt hangs on his dog tags.

It's only when he's gone that you discover there's a little extra built into the cage, a soft textured piece inside just over your clit that rubs and rubs and rubs whenever you take a step, bend over, thrash in your bed with sweat pouring down your skin and slick dripping through the holes in the steel. You're dragged to orgasm over and over as every movement puts your poor raw clit against its torment, the solid locks keeping you even from reaching in a finger to protect it, even when you tear at the straps in a fever pitch.

Simon comes home to you naked and panting on the bed, wet stripes down your thighs and spread up your ass, and laughs in delight at the dumb look on your face when you reach desperately for the key. When he unlocks you a river of slick pours out, your clit twice it's normal size and hot pink, he can see your fucking pulse in it. Sticking his cock in you sends you off again, and he indulges himself in the warmest welcome home he's ever had in your cunt, the slap of his pelvis to your clit making you sob. You're so broken now, nothing else will compare. Oh, his sweet girl, your face snotted up with tears and incoherent begging.

His next mission is supposed to be for three weeks. After that, he's sure you'll let him bring you to base properly. He's got your room all ready.

[captainmalewriter]

Gas Station Swap

After being on the road for about three hours already, the young and hot Johnny decided to make a quick pit stop at the next gas station he came across. He exited the freeway into some small town in the middle of nowhere. The street pavement was cracked and ugly, which made for an awfully bumpy ride as Johnny pulled into the gas station parking lot. He parked, hopped out of his car, and let out a loud, shrill shriek as he stretched his limbs. As he did so, Johnny scanned the new, unfamiliar environment. The streets were empty, and only one other car was in the parking lot. An eerie feeling overcame Johnny as he realized how desolate the little desert town was. 

Johnny sped walk over to the gas station’s entrance. He decided this would only be a quick pit stop: take a leak, grab a sandwich and a drink, and then head back out on the road. Just as Johnny reached out to grab the front door, he felt something heavy land against his back. It landed on the ground with a thud.

“OW! What the hell?” Johnny turned around and saw a shiny, rainbow-colored stone sitting on the pavement. It was the most perfectly round rock Johnny had ever seen in his life. He bent over to pick it up and marveled at how smooth the rainbow rock felt in his hands. It was a pretty cool rock, but not cool enough to make Johnny forget someone had just thrown it at him.

Johnny looked around, searching for the culprit, but all he saw was an empty parking lot. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anybody else around. Johnny decided to just pocket the colorful stone and just move on. He went inside the convenience store, and aside from the clerk sitting behind the cash register with her eyes locked on her phone, it was completely empty. The clerk jumped up from her stool as Johnny walked in. 

“Oh, hello. Good evening,” the clerk exclaimed. Johnny stopped to return pleasantries but was pushed to the side by some guy with a beard before he could do so.

“Excuse me, thank you.” 

The man tried getting around Johnny but bumped into him from how fast he was walking. He wasted no time in making a beeline for the men’s bathroom at the back of the store. Johnny scoffed out of annoyance. 

“Damn, two customers in a row. Must be rush hour.” 

The clerk returned to mindlessly scrolling on her phone. Meanwhile, Johnny continued going about his business and stepped into the men’s bathroom. The single stall was closed, likely being used by the bastard who pushed him a few moments ago. Johnny walked up to a urinal and peed. The guy came out of the stall as he did so. Johnny tried to pay him no attention and just focused his thoughts on what sandwich he should buy for the road. As he zipped up his jeans, Johnny saw the bearded man start running straight at him from the corner of his eye. He had no time to react. The man wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and held him close. 

“What the fuck are you doing!? Let go of me!!” Johnny tried resisting but his burly assailant was much stronger than he was. He was locked firmly in his grasp with little to no chance of getting out on his own. 

“Now, activate! SWAP!!” the man shouted. As soon as the word ‘swap’ left his mouth, the rainbow stone in Johnny’s pocket began shining a blinding bright light. 

It was like a stun grenade went off in the tiny bathroom. Johnny shrieked from the pain. It felt like his retinas were about to burn off as his vision suddenly went white. Thankfully, both the light and the pain subsided after a few seconds. Johnny found himself lying alone on the bathroom floor as his vision returned to normal. 

“Urghhh… what happened?” Johnny murmured in a low, raspy voice. He noticed something sounded off about his voice. He reached out to massage his throat and was shocked when he felt scruffy beard hair scratch against the back of his hand. Johnny did not have a beard. 

Johnny sprang up from the bathroom floor. He almost stumbled over because his body was heavier and shorter now, but Johnny didn’t notice his sudden change in weight right away. He was still shocked by the new beard after all. His eyes and mouth went wide open as he threw his hands onto the sides of his face. His fingers ruffled through the course, fully-grown beard he now had on his face. Johnny pulled his hands away and screamed when he saw the beefy bear paws he had for hands now. Those were not his hands! He had soft, hairless hands! Whose hands were these!?

As that question lingered on Johnny’s panicked mind, the reflection on the nearby bathroom mirror caught his attention. It wasn’t the reflection he was used to seeing, but it was still someone Johnny had come to recognize all too well. 

“Ohmygod… This can’t be happening! That rat bastard swapped our bodies!!”

Johnny was dumbfounded. He stared at his new reflection in silence as he took in the harsh truth of his new reality. Some 20-30 minutes passed before Johnny began moving in his new skin again. Except this time, a little smile formed on his face as he took off his shirt and got a closer look at the body he now possessed.

“You know what? This guy’s pretty fucking hot!” Johnny whispered as he inspected his new, hairy body. He wasn’t used to hearing a lower pitch voice come out of his mouth yet. He kept whispering dirty things to himself until he gradually got used to the sound of his new voice. 

“Oooo… That feels so good…” 

Johnny ran his hands through the pelt of chest and belly hair he now had, rubbing his torso as he did so. As someone who was once completely hairless save for a few hairs here and there, the feeling of having thick body hair ruffling against his own fingers was new to Johnny— and it was an intensely erotic feeling too. 

Johnny’s curious hands continued slithering their way down his body. Overwhelmed by the sensual warmth of touching his new body from a personal perspective, Johnny did not stop his hands as they cupped and groped the growing member in his pants. He let out a low groan akin to a bear as he massaged his junk. He then unbuckled his pants and lowered his boxer briefs, allowing the man’s hog to jump out with sweet freedom. 

“Woah. Now THAT’S a big dick.” 

Johnny couldn’t help but be impressed by the man’s girthy cock and extremely hairy set of balls as he wrapped his callous hand around the shaft and began rubbing one out. His cock was sensitive to the touch. Johnny moaned obscenely loudly with every stroke he gave himself. He could already feel a warm pressure building up inside his shaft after about a minute in. No doubt his balls were just itching to shoot out a heavy load. His new cock looked to be about 6.25 inches from the looks of it. It also hung low from how heavy it was. Johnny couldn’t help but swing his hips side-to-side and watch as his well-endowed junk bounced around. It wasn’t the longest dick Johnny had seen but it was definitely somewhere in his top 10 list. If they had met under different circumstances, Johnny would’ve considered hooking up with this thick, hairy man. Too bad. But even if Johnny couldn’t get fucked by this man’s cock, he now had the golden opportunity to use it for himself. 

“Ooffff fuckk… Awwhhh!!” 

Even though Johnny was a total bottom, he couldn’t stop fantasizing about burying his new dick deep inside of some guy’s bubble butt and filling him up with his seed. That was entirely out of character for him, but Johnny didn’t care. Just the mental image of topping with his new body was enough to send Johnny over the edge. He threw his head back and shot out his load with a loud, guttural moan. His cock was throbbing as it pumped out lots of sticky spunk all over the bathroom sink. Once he was finished, Johnny scooped some up with his fingers and had a taste. It was warm and salty but not overwhelmingly so. Just enough flavor for a delightful swallow. 

Now that he got that out of that way, Johnny returned to his senses. As much as he enjoyed playing around with his new dad bod, he wanted his original body back. Johnny put his clothes back on and quickly cleaned up after himself. He stepped out of the bathroom and walked up to the cashier, who was still mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

“Hey there! Do you happen to know where the other guy went? The one with short, brown hair?” Johnny asked. The clerk did not lift her eyes from her screen as she responded. 

“Oh. You mean the twink with the resting bitch face? He left an hour ago. You should’ve seen him. He came running out of the bathroom shouting ‘the stone worked!’ or something like that. He drove out of here burning tires…”

As the clerk kept talking, Johnny felt his heart sink into his stomach. Has it really been a whole hour since they swapped bodies? And did he really spend that much time checking himself out when he came to? 

Johnny felt his cheeks warm up from embarrassment. He thanked the clerk for the info and walked out of the gas station with heavy feet. Surely enough, his car wasn’t in the parking lot anymore. The bitch had stolen it alongside his body. Johnny took a moment to see what the man had left behind. He only found a wallet with two old 1 dollar bills and a truck driving license for a man named Douglas Johnson. 

Doug groaned with heavy desperation. He then proceeded to walk along the sidewalk, which led to nowhere. Doug couldn’t believe how insanely unlucky he was. Just a few minutes ago, it seemed like he was young, hot, and on his way to go out partying and drinking with his friends in Vegas all weekend. Now, he was just some middle-aged trucker out in the middle of nowhere. Doug was stranded in no man’s land with a brand new identity and an already growing urge to rub another load out.

[wholoveseggs]

Can I request a one shot with the one and only Elijah? He and reader know each other for years but since she is human he never made a move. She overhears Klaus nagging Elijah about being smitten with her and she confronts him and he is obviously in denial, reader tells him to man up for once and he shows her how much men he is? With Consent of course. Would love reading something like this, you are my go to fix for my Elijah obsession

Snow Day

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A rare snowstorm blankets New Orleans, and the Mikaelsons revel in the icy chaos. But as Klaus pushes Elijah to confront his feelings for you, the heat between you two threatens to outshine the storm.

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon!! This was partly inspired by Louisiana getting snow for the first time in over 20 years!!! (yikes the planet is on fire)~ ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smutttt, rough sex (He just scoops you up and has his way with you), oral sex (f!receiving), praise kink, shamelessly using this fic to explore Elijah talking you through it (hot), tiny bit of angst, child Hope being adorable, snowball fights, Klaus being Klaus, magical snow forts and a hint of hot chocolate...

The world outside was unrecognizable. Snow blanketed the streets of New Orleans in a thick, pristine layer, muffling the usual lively sounds of the city. It was almost surreal, like waking up in a dream.

You rubbed your hands together for warmth as you stood at the window of the Mikaelson compound, marveling at the sight. The night before, a snowstorm had hit with an intensity no one had expected. It hadn't snowed in Louisiana since 2004. Now, with nearly ten inches of snow on the ground, you were effectively snowed in.

Not that you minded. The compound was warm and cozy, a fire crackling in pretty much every single room. Still, being cooped up had a way of making you restless, your thoughts wandering far too easily to things you shouldn’t dwell on—like your relationship with Elijah.

You had been friends with him for years, but something about the way he carried himself, the quiet strength he exuded, had always drawn you in, leaving you wanting more. 

Lately, though, there had been a shift. His gaze lingered a little longer, his touches felt a little more intentional. You weren’t blind to it, but Elijah was a master of control. Whatever feelings he might have, he kept them locked away, hidden beneath his stoic demeanor.

It made you sad, the way he denied himself any sort of affection. He always pushed away those he loved the most, it was a bad habit he had yet to break.

With a sigh, you turned from the window and made your way upstairs. You had barely reached the top of the stairs when the sound of raised voices reached your ears.

You headed to the balcony, looking down into the courtyard where Hayley and Rebekah were wrangling Hope into a snow suit. A task that the two immortal creatures seemed to be struggling with, much to the little girl’s amusement.

"Can we go now?" Hope demanded, wiggling out of Rebekah's hold. "I want to make a snowman!"

"Soon," Hayley promised, pulling a large warm hat over her daughter's ears. "We have to finish bundling you up first."

"Let me," Elijah said, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor, crouching down in front of Hope.

The little girl huffed, but she stilled as Elijah gently adjusted her coat and scarf. "You must not rush, little one. Proper preparation will ensure you can enjoy the snow without discomfort," he said, his hands moving with care as he buttoned her coat and smoothed the scarf into place.

"Uncle ‘lijah, I can do it!" Hope protested, though there was no real frustration in her tone.

"I have no doubt," Elijah replied with a small smile, "but would it not be faster if I helped? The snow is waiting, after all."

Hope considered his words for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Okay, but only because I want to go faster."

"Of course," Elijah said, his voice soft with amusement. He worked quickly but carefully, ensuring everything was just right. Finally, he held up her mittens. "Now for the finishing touch."

"My hands are going to sweat," Hope muttered, wrinkling her nose as she reluctantly let him slip the mittens over her small hands.

"They’ll thank you once you’re outside," Elijah said, rising to his full height and brushing a stray curl from her face. "There. You’re ready."

Hope beamed up at him. "Thank you, Uncle ‘lijah!" she said, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

"You're welcome, little one," Elijah replied, returning the embrace, the tenderness on his face making your heart ache.

Kol burst into the courtyard then, an excited grin on his face. He was wrapped up in a giant scarf, his coat buttoned all the way up, and his cheeks were rosy.

"Come on, Hope, hurry!" He urged. "I just finished building the best snow fort. It's big enough for the both of us. I know you like to hide in snow forts and scare people, right?"

Hope's eyes lit up, and she released Elijah, running toward Kol and latching onto his hand. "I love snow forts! Let's go, Uncle Kol!"

"That's my girl!" Kol said, leading her toward the doors. "We're going to have a ball, aren't we, Hope?"

"Yes!" Hope said, bouncing along beside him.

The rest of the family trailed behind, Hayley and Rebekah already discussing plans for getting some hot chocolate later.

"Well, look at you, being the best uncle," Klaus said, clapping Elijah on the back with a smile on his face. Although there was a tiny hint of jealousy in his tone.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics, heading down the stairs to join them.

"She makes it easy," Elijah said, a fond smile playing at his lips as he watched his family depart.

His gaze drifted to you, his smile growing a little as his eyes met yours. You felt your cheeks flush and averted your eyes, trying not to be so obvious.

"Are you joining us?" He asked, his voice smooth and rich like the expensive whiskey he often favored.

Klaus was pulling on his large coat and scarf, his expression smug as he watched the two of you. A familiar mischievous glint entered his eye, and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say.

Instead, he didn't say a word, his expression shifting to something close to a smirk as he looked at his older brother. His silence was worse, and the air felt thick with anticipation.

"I don't know, I'm not a big fan of the cold," you said, glancing toward the door where the others had left.

"Oh, c'mon, just for a little while," Klaus cajoled, wrapping a scarf around his neck. "Elijah will miss you if you aren't there."

The heat rose in your cheeks and you cleared your throat, unable to come up with a response.

Elijah shot him a look, grabbing his own outerwear, a long, black, impeccably tailored wool coat and matching scarf. He looked like he belonged on a fashion runway, not traipsing through the snow.

"If the lady does not wish to join, she doesn't have to," he said, his voice level.

"It would be a shame to miss this rare beauty, wouldn't it?" Klaus asked, gesturing to the world outside.

"It's a blizzard," you deadpanned.

"In Louisiana." Klaus grinned. "It's the sort of thing you'll look back on and remember for centuries. And, besides, Hope would love to see you. Don't you want to make a snow angel with her?"

"Fine. But if I get hypothermia, I'm coming for you." You glared at him.

Klaus grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and sauntered out the door.

You pulled on your jacket and scarf, not quite as fashionable as Elijah's, and popped a beanie over your hair. You glanced at him, taking in his refined, handsome appearance.

"Thanks for waiting for me," you said softly, slipping your feet into your boots and tugging on your gloves.

"I don't mind," Elijah said. He gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

You nodded and led the way out of the compound. As soon as the cold air hit you, you shivered, a gust of wind biting through your layers.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, his brows furrowing.

"I'm fine," you insisted, even as another shiver coursed through your body. "Let's just get this over with."

"As you wish." He smiled.

You walked beside him, following the path the others had taken. It was quiet, the world blanketed in white. Tiny snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, dancing lazily around you. The street was empty, the storm keeping most people indoors.

You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and joyful conversation, and the image of Hope's excited smile came to mind. She was a delight, a true ray of sunshine in an often bleak world.

You glanced up at Elijah, admiring his profile. There was a softness in his features that was so rare. He looked peaceful. Little snowflakes sticking to his eyelashes, his cheeks pink from the cold.

You turned your gaze forward, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. You had always found him attractive, but lately, it was becoming impossible to ignore.

Kol had indeed built an impressive fort, so impressive in fact, that there must have been a bit of magic involved. The snow sparkled unnaturally, as if dusted with tiny crystals, and the walls were impossibly smooth, their edges glowing faintly in the sunlight. 

Hope was hiding inside, giggling madly as Rebekah crouched near the entrance, watching her with a wide smile on her face. Hayley and Klaus were sitting on the bench, chatting idly, while Kol was working on sculpting a large snowball.

Hope jumped out from behind the wall, throwing a snowball at Kol's back.

"Hope!" Kol cried, turning around as he grasped at his back dramatically.

The little girl laughed gleefully and disappeared behind the wall once again.

You smiled, watching the exchange. The sight was so normal, almost mundane. It was strange, seeing the Mikaelsons acting so human.

Hayley joined in on the snowball fight, scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at Kol. Her aim was true, and it hit him square in the chest.

"Oof," Kol groaned, clutching his chest. "I've been shot."

He toppled over into the snow, laying perfectly still.

Hope squealed, jumping up and running over to him. "Uncle Kol!"

Rebekah snorted, crossing her arms. "You've died. Again. Typical."

Kol cracked open one eye and smirked, grabbing Hope's legs and dragging her down with him.

"Nooo!" She shrieked, giggling wildly as she struggled to get away.

Elijah watched them, a fond smile playing at his lips. It was such a small thing, but it sent warmth rushing through you.

"It's good to see them having fun," he said, his voice quiet.

"Yeah," you agreed, your eyes still on him. "Are you having fun?"

He paused, considering the question. Then he knelt down, scooping up a handful of snow and shaping it. "I suppose so," he said, smiling up at you.

Your heart stuttered at the sight. His gaze was soft, affectionate, and you felt like you could get lost in those dark, soulful eyes.

Then he threw the snowball at you, the icy projectile hitting you square in the face.

The contact was so surprising, so unexpected, that it took a moment to process what had happened. When it finally sank in, you could only stare at him.

Elijah's eyes widened, his face the picture of innocence. "I'm sorry, did I hit you?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, Mikaelson," you warned, crouching down and gathering snow into your hands.

Elijah's smile grew wider, a playful challenge in his eyes. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear," he said, scooping up more snow.

You tossed your own snowball at him, aiming for his face.

He ducked, faster than humanly possible and the snowball sailed harmlessly past him.

"Hey! That's cheating!" You cried, gathering more snow.

"There are no rules in snowball fights, darling," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Klaus had joined the fray now, launching a barrage of snowballs at Elijah, while Hayley, Hope and Rebekah were targeting Kol.

You ducked and dodged, trying to avoid the flying snow, while attempting to take out Elijah.

His movements were quick, calculated, and it seemed like no matter how fast you moved, he was always one step ahead.

He was standing a few feet away, a playful grin on his face. It was the first time you'd ever seen him act so carefree, and it was infectious.

"C'mon, darling," he teased, "you'll have to do better than that."

You let out a huff, gathering more snow and shaping it into a tight ball. This time, you managed to hit him, the snow exploding against his shoulder.

"Impressive," he said, his tone light and teasing.

You couldn't stop the smile from forming on your lips, the thrill of the moment, the pure, unbridled joy in his eyes, filling you with an indescribable warmth.

Suddenly, a snowball hit you on the side of the head, sending ice crystals cascading down the front of your coat.

You yelped, swiping at the icy shards, and turned to see Kol grinning impishly. You grabbed a fistful of snow and hurled it at him, the missile landing with a satisfying thwack.

You joined in the fray, the sound of laughter and playful banter filling the air. You lost track of time, the snowy battle raging on.

Klaus wandered over to where Elijah was standing, a few feet from the others, watching the fight with a small smile on his face.

"This is nice," Klaus said, his eyes following Hope as she darted around.

"Yes, it is," Elijah agreed, his gaze fixed on you.

"She's quite a fighter, isn't she?" Klaus remarked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Indeed," Elijah murmured, his gaze never wavering.

Klaus watched him for a moment, then nudged him lightly. "I was talking about Hope. Who are you talking about?"

"Hm?" Elijah asked, finally tearing his gaze away.

Klaus smirked, leaning closer and dropping his voice to a low murmur. "Don't play coy with me, brother. We both know you're smitten."

Elijah's brow furrowed, his jaw clenching. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, please. The way you look at her, it's like she hung the stars," Klaus said, a teasing note in his voice.

"It's nothing," Elijah said, his expression closing off. "She's a friend. Nothing more."

"That's a lie and you know it," Klaus scoffed.

"Even if it were true," Elijah continued, his tone measured and controlled. "She deserves more than I can give her," he said, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice.

"Ohhh, so you are going with the martyr excuse this time? I should have guessed," Klaus said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Elijah looked like he wanted to say more, but you chose that moment to join them.

"Hey," you greeted, a flush on your cheeks. Your breath puffed out in little clouds, and a few strands of hair had escaped from your beanie, curling around your face. All Elijah wanted to do was brush them away, run his fingers along your jaw, feel the warmth of your skin.

Instead, he smiled politely, keeping his hands in his pockets. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah," you said, a little breathless. "This is so much fun. I can't remember the last time I played in the snow."

"Nor can I," Elijah admitted. He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "It is rather invigorating."

"It's freezing," you corrected, laughing softly.

"I'm sure Elijah will be more than happy to warm you up," Klaus teased, shooting his older brother a knowing look.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the suggestion, and you turned away, pretending to admire the scenery.

"Niklaus," Elijah hissed, glaring at him. "It's impolite to suggest such things."

Klaus shrugged, not the least bit apologetic. "But it's true right? Or have I read the situation incorrectly?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with a response. You were afraid of what Elijah might say, or worse, not say.

"We are just friends," Elijah said, his jaw set.

You tried not to let his words sting, but you couldn't help the pang of disappointment that twisted in your gut.

"Ah, yes, friends," Klaus drawled, rolling his eyes. "I think the rest of us are going to the cafe down the street to get some hot chocolate, are you two joining?"

"I'm going to head back to the compound," you said quickly, before Elijah could speak.

Klaus raised a brow, looking at Elijah with a smirk.

"I'll accompany you," Elijah said, his voice smooth.

"No," you insisted, a little too sharply. You winced and cleared your throat, forcing a smile. "I mean, no, that's okay. I don't want to keep you from having fun with the others. Besides, it's just a short walk. I'll be fine."

"Very well," Elijah conceded, his expression neutral.

Klaus shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

The silence that settled between you was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words.

You wanted to ask him what he meant, if there was a chance, or if he was just playing nice. But the fear of rejection kept the words trapped in your throat. You quickly turned away, afraid he would see the emotion written plainly on your face.

"I'm going to head out," you said, taking a step toward the street. "Have fun, okay?"

Elijah watched you leave, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He should have said something, should have explained. Instead, he had let you go, his silence a cowardly choice.

When you reached the compound, you shed your outer layers and flopped onto the sofa in front of the fireplace in the library. A wave of longing crashed over you, a deep ache that couldn't be filled. The feeling was transforming into frustration and anger, a familiar bitterness creeping in.

The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you sat up, seeing Elijah enter the room.

"I thought you were going to get hot chocolate," you said, forcing a small smile.

"I changed my mind," he replied, his voice soft.

You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. The silence was almost deafening, the tension palpable.

"So, uh, I was thinking about heading home soon," you said, needing to fill the void. "Once the snow lets up."

"Of course," Elijah agreed, though he sounded a bit hesitant.

You swallowed thickly, glancing at him. "Thanks for having me," you added, your voice a bit hoarse.

"Anytime," he said, and there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart flutter.

You gave him a small smile, the sadness creeping back in. This feeling of limbo was killing you, the not knowing.

"So, is there, uh, is there someone else?" You asked, unable to hold back any longer. Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to meet his eyes across the room. “Someone you're seeing?"

"No," Elijah replied, shaking his head.

"Oh, okay," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why do you ask?" He questioned, his tone carefully neutral.

You could have played it off, made a joke, deflected. But the weight of his gaze, the way he was looking at you, it was as if he could see into your very soul.

"You know why," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"Don't," you snapped, frustrated with his cryptic behavior. “Just be honest with me, stop with the bullshit.”

Elijah’s features shifted, his carefully composed mask slipping for just a moment. A shadow passed over his face as he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as though fighting an invisible force.

"It's not that simple," he said, his voice quiet as he approached you.

"Yes, it is," you countered.

"No," he said firmly. "You deserve someone who can give you what you want, someone who isn't... damaged. Someone who won't break your heart."

"I think that's for me to decide," you said, meeting his gaze.

"And what do you think I can give you?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not asking you for anything, this isn't a transaction," you said, the frustration creeping back in. "All I want is to know if you feel the same,"

His dark eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of hope. Then, the shutters fell, and his expression hardened.

"It doesn't matter," he said, turning away.

"No. Elijah. It does matter," you insisted, standing up and following him. 

He didn't say a word, just kept walking towards the door.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, reaching out and touching his arm.

He flinched, but didn't pull away, and he slowly turned back to face you.

"Why are you trying to push me away?" You pressed, searching his face.

Elijah stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Anger, frustration, or perhaps longing. You couldn’t tell, but his inability to make a decision had your blood boiling.

"Just… stop," you said, letting go of his arm, the words sharper now as the emotions clawed their way up your throat.

"Stop what?" he asked, his voice clipped, as if daring you to elaborate.

"Stop being so self-sacrificing. Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Just... man up and take what you want," you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and desperation.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm about to break.

"You think this is easy for me?" he said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "You think I enjoy pretending I don’t feel something for you?"

"Then why do it?" you shot back, standing your ground.

"Because I have to!" he barked, his composure cracking as he raised his voice. The sudden intensity made you flinch, you had never heard him yell before, but you refused to back down.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice just as loud now. "Why are you so determined to ruin this before it even starts?"

"You don’t understand," he said, his tone quieter but no less fierce. He turned his back to you, his hands gripping the edge of the mantel above the fireplace. "You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can give you a family, children, a happy life. Someone who doesn’t bring danger and destruction to everything they touch."

"Stop deciding what I deserve!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the room.

He turned on you then, his dark eyes blazing with anger. "And what happens when you wake up one day and realize you’ve wasted your life on a monster? What happens when you resent me for stealing the life you could have had?"

You took a step closer, your own anger boiling over. "You don’t get to make that choice for me! I know what I want, Elijah, and it’s you. If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be standing here, begging you to let me in!"

Elijah’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked almost stunned. But then his expression hardened again, his frustration returning.

"I am trying to protect you!" he shouted back, his voice shaking the room.

"From what?" you screamed, stepping right into his space.

"From me," he hissed, his voice raw and broken.

The confession hung in the air, thick and heavy. For a moment, neither of you said anything, your breaths coming fast and shallow as you stared at each other.

"You’re such a coward," you said finally, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness.

His eyes narrowed, his anger sparking again. "You think I’m a coward? You think I don’t want you?" he growled, stepping so close his shadow seemed to swallow you.

You stared up at him, defiant, despite the fear and excitement rushing through you.

"Do you have any idea what it’s like to want something so badly and know you can never have it?" he asked, his voice strained, as though the words were torn from him against his will.

"Yes. I'm looking at him," you retorted, your heart pounding.

Whatever control he'd been clinging to shattered, his walls crumbling as he took hold of your arm, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped at the contact, feeling his body pressing into yours, the heat of his breath as it ghosted over your skin, the smell of leather and cologne mingled with something wild, primal.

Without saying a word he lifted you up, pinning you to the nearest wall, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss that stole your breath away.

You gripped the fabric of his suit, kissing him back just as fiercely, letting your hands explore along his chest, his shoulders. You were practically vibrating with want, your body humming with pent-up desire as you felt his arousal pressing against your thigh.

"You drive me insane," he murmured, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at the tender spot just below your ear, causing you to moan in anticipation.

You were like a moth to a flame, and he was the hottest fire you'd ever known, searing into your soul, consuming you from the inside out. And the way he touched you, it was as though he were afraid he'd never be able to hold you like this again.

He carried you upstairs to his bedroom in a blur of wind and sound, moving so fast you could barely comprehend it. In that moment, you were reminded that he was more than just a man. He was an ancient creature of immense power, and he was about to unleash every bit of that power on your body.

The moment your back hit the mattress he was on you, his hands tearing away your clothes and tossing them carelessly aside. You tugged at his clothes in return, desperate to feel his skin on yours, your breath hitching as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin.

It wasn't gentle or sweet, it was wild, passionate, full of all the words that went unspoken for far too long. You couldn't get enough, you wanted to lose yourself in this moment, in him. You didn't care about anything else.

The weight of him as he covered you with his body, the way his muscles rippled under your fingertips, the sounds he made when he lost control. You didn't expect this side of him, the almost feral desire he was unleashing.

His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them up until your knees were pressed against your chest, exposing you to him completely. His cock pressed against your slick entrance, teasing you, the sensation drawing out a breathy moan.

"Is this what you want?” he groaned, the head of his cock pressing just a fraction inside.

You groaned in frustration, writhing against him, trying to get him to sink deeper.

He chuckled darkly, holding your hips still. "You need to learn to be patient, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone dark and seductive.

You whined, but you knew better than to push him, and you could see the gleam in his eyes. You felt a sharp smack to your thigh, causing you to yelp in surprise, the stinging pain giving way to a dull warmth that only intensified your need.

"Now be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I've always wanted to," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

The way his accent wrapped around each syllable had a shudder rolling through your body. He gripped your thighs tighter, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you slowly. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you cried out as he sank to the hilt.

"So pretty when you sing for me," he teased, nipping at your throat.

You couldn't even form a response, your brain short-circuiting as he pulled almost all the way out, the thick head of his cock catching on your entrance. Then, in one swift stroke, he eased back inside you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy, desperate kiss as he began to move inside you, each thrust hitting you in all the right places. His strokes were firm and deep, sending waves of pleasure washing over you, each thrust making you gasp for air.

It was everything you had hoped for, everything you'd been craving, and so much more. Your nails dug into the firm muscles of his chest, leaving half-moon marks on his pale skin.

"Do you know all the things I want to do to you?" he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sent a rush of heat through your core. You whimpered in response, unable to form words.

He let out a soft laugh, his hips moving at a maddening pace, as he teased, "All the places I've thought about having you," he whispered.

You could feel your release coiling deep within you, but he wouldn't let you come, keeping you on the edge. Your mind was clouded with need, and his words only added fuel to the fire.

"Like right here in my bed," he continued, "Or taking you against the window for anyone who might be watching. Or bent over the balcony railing, with my fingers buried inside your wet little pussy while your scream fills the night sky."

The thought alone had you clenching around him, the fantasy sending your body into a spiral of need and pleasure.

"Would you like that? Being my plaything?" he purred.

You let out a needy whine, your nails clawing down his back, drawing blood. You needed him to make good on his promises.

"I think you would," he teased, nipping at your neck, drawing more moans from you.

You bucked your hips, your legs wrapped around him as you tried to take control.

"So eager," he groaned as he released his hold on your thighs, gripping the headboard for leverage, and the new position allowed him to hit even deeper, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"You want it?" He taunted, his voice ragged as his strokes became more forceful.

You moaned incoherently, feeling yourself start to lose control, and Elijah laughed, his voice deep and husky as he said, "Then take it," as if challenging you to finally fall off the edge.

Your breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping you as your release finally crested over, and you came harder than you'd ever imagined. Your mind went completely blank, your vision blurred as the wave of euphoria crashed over you.

You were only vaguely aware of the sensation of his cock pulsing inside you, your name falling from his lips as he reached his own peak, spilling himself deep within you.

Your breathing was labored and shallow, your body humming with aftershocks as he began to kiss his way along your neck and down your collarbone, the feel of his lips ghosting over your skin drawing out soft whimpers.

His kisses grew more tender, the touch almost reverent as he murmured against your skin, "So perfect for me," his voice barely above a whisper, the words almost lost to the room.

He kept moving down your body, his lips brushing over every inch of bare skin as if memorizing it. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands tangling in his hair as you allowed yourself to just enjoy the sensation of him exploring you, worshipping you, like you were his religion, his salvation.

"'lijah," you said breathlessly, feeling him spread your thighs.

He didn't say a word as he lowered his head, his tongue finding your clit and lapping at you, drawing a loud cry from you as he cleaned up the mess he had made. You didn't have it in you to beg him to stop, his ministrations driving you to near-insanity, his tongue dragging through your slit.

He hummed softly, enjoying the sounds you were making. The way you squirmed, softly protesting as you felt yourself falling deeper under his spell.

"More," you whined, tugging at his hair.

He let out a deep laugh, and the vibration had your back arching as your climax rolled through you again, and your release flooded his tongue.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Elijah shifted, and you cracked an eye open, your body feeling boneless as you tried to get your bearings.

"Holy fuck," you said, your voice barely audible.

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you sighed contentedly. The air was heavy with lingering tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Yet, as you lay tangled together, the heat of his body grounding you, the world outside seemed to melt away. For now, there was only this. The sense of finally being together.

"I didn't think you would be such a talker in bed," you said, breaking the silence.

You felt his body shake as he laughed again, a low, throaty sound that made you weak. You shifted, cuddling closer, your head on his chest as you traced circles on his bare skin.

"What?" You asked, playfully nipping at his collarbone. "You can't just say all that to me and expect me not to comment on it,"

"I was just stating facts, nothing more," he said, the smirk audible in his tone.

"Mhm," you teased. "Well, I hope you know I expect you to follow through,"

Elijah laughed softly, his arms tightening around you. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice deep and seductive. "In that case, you should get some rest. I have a very long list of things I want to do to you."

Your face flushed, and you laughed, trying to play it off. But deep down, you were hoping that list was never-ending.

"Don't think for a second I'll be satisfied with one round, I can keep you up for days if you let me," he teased, nipping your neck playfully.

The thought of him keeping you locked up in his bedroom for days, indulging your every fantasy and need, made you squirm in anticipation.

You sat up slightly, pushing on his chest so he was lying on his back, his arms still wrapped around you, pulling you along for the ride. You straddled him, kissing him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips on yours.

"We'll see who keeps who up," you teased, rolling your hips over his already growing cock.

He hummed in approval, his hands gripping your ass as you continued to move, slowly grinding against him. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you picked up the pace.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs pulled your attention away, and you heard the voices of the rest of the family downstairs.

You felt your cheeks heat up and Elijah smirked, gripping your thighs as he sat up, pulling you closer and wrapping your legs around him. He kissed along your neck, whispering softly.

"We should probably join them before they get suspicious," he murmured.

You hummed in agreement, not really wanting to move but knowing he was right. You let him lift you up and set you down on the edge of the bed.

"We have a lot to talk about," you said, grabbing your clothes from the floor and beginning to get dressed.

"We do," Elijah agreed, watching you. "I can't promise this will be easy," he warned, "but I want to try, if you're willing."

You turned to face him, taking a step closer and helping him button up his shirt. You leaned in, kissing him softly.

"I want that more than anything," you said, resting your forehead against his, feeling like you could finally breathe again.

He smiled, the look of pure happiness on his face warming your heart. He kissed you once more, slow and tender, and you knew in that moment that nothing would ever feel as good as being loved by him.

By the time you both made it downstairs, the rest of the family had settled in the parlor, hot chocolate in hand. Hope was curled up beside Klaus, who was dramatically recounting his snowball victory to an unimpressed Hayley. "I was vastly outnumbered, of course," Klaus was saying, his tone full of mock gravitas. "But my superior tactics won the day."

"You were hit in the face three times," Hayley retorted, rolling her eyes as she sipped her drink. "By a seven-year-old."

"Details," Klaus muttered, waving a hand as if dismissing the thought. Beside him, Hope giggled, her cheeks still rosy from the cold.

Kol leaned lazily against the doorframe, cradling his mug and watching the exchange with a smirk. "Don’t worry, Nik. We’ll still tell our enemies that you have never been defeated," he quipped, earning a laugh from Rebekah, who was perched elegantly on the couch.

As you and Elijah entered the room, Rebekah's gaze immediately shifted to the two of you, her brow arching with curiosity. "Well, look who decided to join us," she said, a knowing edge in her voice. "Took you long enough. Don’t worry, we saved you some hot chocolate."

Elijah’s hand rested lightly on your lower back as he guided you toward the table, a move that did not go unnoticed by his siblings, who were all eyeing you with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

You glanced at Elijah, feeling your cheeks heat up. "We got… sidetracked," he said simply, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile.

Klaus snorted, but a deadly look from Elijah silenced the impending snarky remark. You helped yourself to a cup of hot chocolate, which tasted sinfully good, the heat and sweetness seeping through you as you settled on the couch next to Rebekah. Elijah sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your knee.

You snuggled close to him and felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you in even closer as the family laughed and teased one another, enjoying this rare moment of peace and contentment. You smiled to yourself, letting yourself sink into the warmth and love of the moment, knowing that it wouldn't always be this easy but that you would fight for every minute of it.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Eeeeeehdhhdjdh - I know how attached you are to them so seeing this made me VERY HAPPY. ☺️ I'm so delighted you loved them so much 💕🌹thank you!!!!!!

A Gentlemen's Agreement [Reader x Loki/Steve/Bucky]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: It's time for you to make up your mind. And the boys have just the plan to help you do that. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Teasing. Sexual tension. Not a foursome. A/N: Loki is my king. I just needed to get this out thanks to @sidepartskinnyjeans

The click of Steve’s dress shoes echoed as he ushered you away from the busy ballroom of Stark’s county house. Your nerves were fizzing, but your face didn’t betray the flutter of excitement growing in your belly. In the darkness of the mahogany lined corridor, firelight licked from a solitary open doorway. A nod from the captain urged you silently inside. Walking into the room, your breath hitched. Whatever you had expected from his clandestine invitation in the crowd, this wasn’t it.

Steve circled around you, taking his place in the menacingly sensual line-up. There they stood in quiet stoicism, dressed in fitted finery – the trio of beneficiaries to your relentless flirtations. Their arms were folded, their legs wide in triangular determination. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how all of them had managed to excuse themselves from the party at once. But seeing the way they were taking up space, stretching the air with their achingly large egos, that question was quickly forgotten. Each was more breathtakingly handsome than the last. Rogers. Barnes. Laufeyson. “What is this?” you giggled nervously, snapping to each set of blue eyes in turn. They began to smirk in unison. You shivered despite the heat from the fire. “S’come to our attention you’ve been pulling the same tricks on all of us,” the winter soldier drawled, his accent thick with playful taunt. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you-” “Oh, I think you do, Agent,” Laufeyson hummed, tilting his head. Long fingers drummed on his bicep as he rocked on his heels. Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper. “Look fellas, she’s blushing," Steve teased. The three of them chuckled. “I don’t blush,” you snipped, folding your arms to match them. “And I’d appreciate if you could tell me why the three of you are lined up like...like…” The words you searched for ebbed as you readjusted your feet. It was all you could do not to go over on your ankle in these stupid heels. Heat was building between your thighs, the unmistakeable thump of arousal beating as your addled thoughts raced beneath their penetrating stares.

You knew exactly what Bucky meant. And now it seemed, so did they. You knew bending over to pick up that pen in front of all three of them yesterday was a bad idea. Although, no one in the world would blame you – working with three of the finest specimens of masculinity ever created. Had you gone out your way to tease and flirt with each one of them over the past several months? Possibly. But hey, it was good for morale. And besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell any of them would return your affections. Not serial-bed hopper Barnes, he didn’t fuck where he ate. Not tightly wound Rogers, you seriously doubted he’d approve of subordinate relations. And as for the ice king – you weren’t even sure he knew your name.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. God, you wished it wasn’t so hot. Your eyes searched the floor, hearing Loki clear his throat. “As Barnes noted, you have been toying with each of us in a manner both indecent and egregious these past months.” He let the rhetorical judgement marinate in silence before continuing. “Do you deny it?” You raised your eyes to his, seeing the embers of mischief smouldering within. “No,” you said confidently, as all three men cast conspiratorial glances to one another. Rogers balanced his elbow on a tight fist, raising his fingers to his chin. He narrowed his eyes. “That dress though fellas," he growled with uncharacteristic lust. "Have you ever seen such a thing?” Barnes snorted. “Forget two birds with one stone, that outfit takes out three cocks with one hit.” His blue eyes were dark in the low light, heavy brows shadowing the contours as his chin dipped. “An assassin, even off the clock.” he grit. “And she knows how much I love that neck.” While he was speaking, you instinctively brushed a strand hanging from your up-do away from the boatline collar of the dress. He was right. You did know. You had known ever since the first of his ragged breaths, tangible desire pulsing in his veins and stretching his trousers as he massaged your shoulders. The first time you had asked, he had thought you were joking. But every time you felt the cool flatness of his metal limb against your spine, steadying you as his fingers found every pocket of tension in your upper body – both you and he knew it was no laughing matter. Had you exaggerated the moans of pleasure his touch released? No. There had been no need. It felt fucking phenomenal. Orgasmic, even. And you hadn’t held them back. Your neck had extended to the side as his fingertips pulsed into the most delicate areas, breathy pants filling the air that you hoped made him think of how you would sound as he fucked you into the headboard. “And she knows how much I love those legs,” Steve smouldered, curling a finger against his lips as his gaze ran from your hips to the floor and back again. The dress stopped midway up your thighs, perfectly tight before the sheer drop of your limbs to the heels. You had caught him staring open-mouthed as you pulled yourself dripping wet from the ocean on a mission in the Seychelles months ago. His face had flushed as you’d clocked him running up your femurs, a bite of his lip betraying the base need boiling beneath an all-business exterior.

On every mission, you now made a point of elevating your leg as you snapped on the holsters, lunging forward against the nearest bench. Wall. Anything to drive him mad. You wondered how often he thought of your legs wrapped around his hips while his tactical suit lay strewn around his ankles. Without fail, his teeth always found their way to his bottom lip; a clench of his ass and a forbidden husk of ‘goddam’ under his breath making you smirk as you turned away. “And I think not that I need to point out what aspect of the offending garment is for me,” Loki purred, releasing the cross of his arms to fall behind his back in a ceremonial clasp. “It’s green," Bucky stated, licking his lips. “Yes," Loki replied in baritone, cheekbones sharpening. “It is.”

Loki. Now that was a story. Yes, you had felt the linger of his keen eyes on your ass. But who hadn’t. And yes, his gravelled pleasantries that always dripped a little closer than necessary into your ear were tempting. But the god was a walking temptation. It was his nature. He was indiscernible, a mystery. Aside from briefings, the longest you had ever spent in his company had been when he would extend his hand wordlessly on nights just like this, leading you the dance-floor. All onlookers would see was the standard wrapping of his arms around your waist, and yours over his shoulders. They did not see the small circles grazed on the nape of his neck beneath his curls, the half-innocent moans released by his ear when he brought you in from a spin. They did not see the lingering play of your fingers on the delicate skin of his wrists, the bite of your lip as Loki’s hips pressed into your stomach. A solitary flame in a sea of cold indifference. You’d take any heat from him could you get. They didn’t see his brows twitch as he registered the green lingerie down the carefully calculated neckline of your dress. Just for him. Your breathing had becoming shallow. Were you actually about to have all three of them at once? Was that even physically possible? Two super-soldiers and a god? You didn’t know if you would survive – but something told you it might be worth it. Positions and logistics raced through your mind, making you dizzy. You shook your head.

“OK you got me, I fancy all of you. So what? It’s just a bit of fun,” you gasped, running sweaty palms casually down the front of your dress. “The fellas and I have an idea, if you’re agreeable of course,” Steve said slowly, following Loki in clasping his hands behind his back. You squinted, congratulating yourself for encouraging the captain’s foray into unbuttoning the top of his shirts. His pulse was racing, you could see it pumping beneath his jawline. Bucky still stood with his arms loosely crossed over a waistcoat, the cotton of his thick white shirt bulging against metal and flesh. A sliver of steel glinted in the firelight, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He nodded once, without a flicker of a smile. Fuck, they all looked so good. “A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will,” Loki uttered, a smile curling on his lips. He’d been waiting to deliver that line, you could tell. “You like us. We like you. But we don’t share," Bucky glowered matter-of-factly. You could feel the thin fabric of your panties sticking to your lips, tacky and unbearably wet from this erotic ambush. “You don’t?” you quipped. “What a shame.” “We don’t," Steve repeated. “At least not ye-” he cast a glance to Bucky, before clearing his throat. “We think it’s important you uh...focus your attentions. If that’s what you wanna do.” A sudden thrill raced through your blood. The idea that they had planned this, that they had spoken about you in hushed whispers behind closed doors made your pussy hum with forbidden pleasures.

You wandered to the antique sofa to the side, feeling the heated stares of each of the men follow you. “What’s this gentleman’s agreement, then?” you purred, crossing your legs. Steve swallowed as the tight emerald fabric rode up your thigh. The god of mischief laughed softly, a deep sound which seemed to shake the room like bass.

“Each of us will kiss you, and then you must decide,” he said matter-of-factly. “The unsuccessful will respect your choice of victor and no retaliation will be made.” “Decide?” “Which of us to get to know better," Steve explained, shrugging off his suit jacket. He threw it gently over his shoulder, making it land on the back of a chair behind him with magnetic finesse. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think what the captain’s tryna say is that we all wanna get to know you, better. So it’s lady’s choice,” he winked. You raised an eyebrow towards Loki. You couldn’t imagine him ever agreeing to something like this. A solitary nod was his only response, eyelashes fluttering down in a moment of panty-wetting reverence. “I accept,” you said slowly, running your eyes across the line-up. Their competitive sincerity was catching. You wet your lips in anticipation, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. Perhaps your corpse was lying strewn on the dance-floor, paramedics hoisting you onto a trolley in a body-bag. Perhaps this was heaven. And maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was the dancing shadows licking their wide bodies stacked with endless muscle. But you could swear that each and every one of them was hard. “As discussed. Thirty seconds,” Loki murmured coolly to the men standing to attention on his right, flourishing a hand. Barnes stepped forward, smoothing long strands of chestnut hair behind his ears.

“Alright,” he growled confidently, swaggering the several steps and planting onto the sofa beside you. His thighs spread against the antique furniture, flexing beneath the tight suit trousers as he twisted his torso to face you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, smoked wood and lingering sage like a wet autumn forest. His hand cupped your jawline, the steel arm resting on the back of the curved rest.

“Here goes nothin,” he whispered to himself, curled digits trailing longingly down the curve of your neck. They tugged at the neckline of your dress, slipping it over the curve. He leant forward, parted lips colliding with the crescent of your shoulder. Your eyelids fluttered closed, a staggered moan you didn’t realise was hiding released as he worked across your skin. His stubble tingled against the delicate surface, the flat of his nose slotting beneath your ear as his kisses became hungrier against your pulse point. Less delicate. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, darlin',” he rasped, before licking licentiously from the base of your throat to the angle of your jaw. In seconds, his mouth was pressed to yours; tongue eagerly flicking against your lips before you let him enter. Bucky’s moan was dynamite, fingers guiding your chin as he devoured you in targeted desire. He leant you backwards into the cushions while your arm instinctually slid between his shoulder-blades, pulling him closer. Barnes groaned as his hand slid covetously from your waist and up the curve of your breasts, before burrowing deep into your bun. He thrust gruffly against you on instinct, something thick and menacingly primal dragging against your thigh. The feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp sent your heat into overdrive, clenching desperately around air. “Time,” Loki purred calmly. Stubble scratched a final time, your hand flying to rest on his metal arm as you breathlessly broke apart with a whimper. Barnes winked, the skin surrounding his mouth pink as he rose and re-joined the other two. You cast glances between them while your chest heaved.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve inquired politely, folding the sleeves of his shirt up further. You watched the veins in his muscled forearms tighten with the movement, the slight bend of his knees as he gave a deferential cough. As if he’s preparing for a fight, you thought as your head continued to spin from Bucky’s kiss. “No, I’m good,” you slurred, smiling as you straightened and patting the sofa beside you. “I prefer it standing, if that’s alright,” Steve said tentatively, brow twitching in mild alarm as he saw your eyes widen. But he didn’t retract it. Standing obediently, it suddenly occurred to you that a kiss on the hand would be very on brand for him, perhaps rethinking his part in this atypical charade. But Steve paced towards you, looking as determined as he did striding down the ramp of the quinjet. Your breath hitched as the captain’s hands cupped your face, walking you expertly back towards the walled bookcase. A shelf pressed against your spine while Rogers bore down, his gentle tongue nudging at your lips; and with a whimper, he breached. The warmth of the muscle caressing your own made your knees wobble. Hard, rippling abdominals pressed flush against your chest, pinning you softly beneath Keats and Wordsworth while his hands began to smooth over your shoulders, over your waist. You felt like the poets would approve. Steve moaned into your mouth as his palms slid possessively down your thighs, grunting as he whipped them forwards effortlessly around his waist. You yelped in surprise before his lips swallowed yours again, ankles crossing around taut hips. The heat from his skin warmed the scent of ginger wafting from the base of his collarbone, its spice firing in your nostrils. The kiss was hungry and desperate and wild. You could feel his solid cock rubbing against your stomach, tasting every inch of your passion as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh beneath your ass. He thrust softly with every wax and wane of his jaw, needy fingers running through his newly mussed golden hair. You pulled greedily before there was a soft clear of someone’s throat. It sounded like Loki. “Time,” Bucky barked, and reluctantly, Steve returned you to the ground. Still in a daze, and with palms spread against the bookcase, your eyes fell on the final figure. “Believe me…” Loki purred condescendingly, “you’ll wish to sit down for this.”

With shaking steps you teetered to the sofa, plonking down with a sharp intake of breath. Loki glided towards you, elegantly manoeuvring his long limbs aside your own. He brought a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured, before pressing in to a firm, chaste kiss. One of your hands flew to his thigh, running your palm over the hard, forbidden mass concealed tight and thick beneath the cotton. You desperately keened into him, tongue searching against closed lips. Loki withdrew with a chuckle, sweeping the hair from one side of his head. “If you wish me to stop, tell me,” he whispered hot in your ear, a wave of amber and spices and decadence filling your senses before he slipped from the sofa to his knees. Your eyes widened as he gently spread your legs. “The rules did not specify where I could kiss you.” he explained softly, pre-empting the questioning thrill lighting your eyes. Disgruntled huffs from Bucky and Rogers barely registered as you felt a cool tingle of the god’s magic dissolve your favourite underwear.

Loki’s smouldering gaze latched to yours, lust-drunk and determined, before it fell to the glistening mess at his eye level. “Do you consent to my audition?” he hummed, tentatively pushing the sides of your dress to the tops of your thighs. Your stare flickered to Steve and Bucky, suspiciously observing Loki on his knees with pure jealousy. "Yes," you heard yourself murmur under your breath. Fresh arousal was seeping from your centre, spreading down your heated skin. You had never wanted anything more. "Louder, please," Loki smirked, the curve of his fingers fastened to your knees. “Yes, Loki...g-god-” you gasped, brow furrowing as you urged him on with a tilt.

Immediately, his tongue licked a wide, earth-shattering stripe up your slit from base to tip. Your head fell back with a rattling moan, one hand combing through his hair as the other gripped the armrest. Loki quickly moved your legs over his shoulders, sliding you further back. The god’s open mouth latched to your swollen clit, sucking and lapping lower with sinful precision. All you could see was his dark curls and proud brow, the sight of the god buried between your open thighs making reality blur. Every caress made your hips thrust further into his mouth, shaking breaths shuddering your body as he moaned against your wet heat. The noises he made were utter devastation, muffled pants and enthusiastic slurps sounding between your splayed legs as he ate you out like a starving man. Behind your eyelids, you could feel the covetous gazes of the two soldiers rolling over your body as Laufeyson’s fingertips dug into your calves like a hunter. “T-time,” Steve choked. “No!” you gasped, pawing at Loki’s cheek in despair. The god smiled, chin glistening while closing your trembling knees in a move that could only be described as gentlemanly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unfurling and retreating backwards to the line-up with his arms spread in a show of feigned innocence. You panted, gathering your thoughts as your gaze landed on each of them in turn. “Lady’s choice,” Bucky re-iterated gruffly, widening his legs. Beside him, the captain’s fingers rested wide on his hips, biting his lip while his eyes lingered on the fresh sheen of sweat clinging to your legs. Loki raised a finger absent-mindedly to the corner of his mouth, brushing the edge before sucking it clean to the second knuckle. His eyes smouldered, fixed on you, the flicker of firelight casting deep shadows in hollowed cheekbones. You took a deep breath, the only name it was ever going to be dancing on the tip of your tongue.

🤷‍♂️ For those who want a bit...more - A Gentlemen's Bond is the follow up to this.

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

You’ve never had head, Eddie’s never given head, and Steve… he’s got a whole lot of hair and experience.

No one really sugar coated anything. It was a simple gathering of three friends at Eddie’s newly purchased trailer (also know as, the one to the left of Wayne’s). Everyone else in the group had plans, so Steve drove you to Eddie’s, all the while knowing something was bothering you. It ended up being Eddie to tease it out of you.

“Never had a guy eat my pussy before.” Your lips wrapped around the neck of your bottle.

Eddie sputtered on his, Steve’s brows rose in surprise.

“But you’ve had sex, right? I thought you said —“ Steve tried, only for you to cut him off.

“Yes, I’ve had sex a few times, but they’ve never eaten me out. I mean, do you guys even like doing that? My date said I was too slimey.” You’re embarrassed to even admit.

Steve scoffed as Eddie wiped the beer off his chin. “I’m surprised the jerk-off was even able to get you that wet.”

You pick at the label of the dark glass. Steve runs a massive hand through his hair, his voice gentle, protective. “Is that what’s been bothering you all night?”

To which, you nod. You both turn towards Eddie as he clears his throat, adding in his two cents. He tucks a set of loose strands behind his freshly pierced ear, that circular charm dangling. “Uh, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never eaten a girl out before. But I’m all for slime time. That’s a good thing, right?”

Steve marveled, briefly entertained at how backward the two of you looked. He wasn’t stupid, you’d been flirting with one another (the three of you) off and on for a while now. Bringing this up, it would be a wasted opportunity to be with his two favorite people. And the idea, it struggles to keep up with the swelling between Steve’s legs. That weirdly in synch look that you shared, Steve knew it was the correct decision.

“Let me show you guys?”

You found yourself less awkward to be naked around your two best-friends, guys you thought about constantly, in ways you probably shouldn’t have. Still, when it came time to step out of your panties, and the wet spot clung from your cunt to the crotch of the fabric — you let some nerves show. Eddie was frozen, in his boxers, hard as a rock, both men observing your body in a way that had everyone holding their breaths, appreciating scars and marks alike. And Steve, he took suave control in his own tight briefs, that monster on display. His hands found your shoulders, rubbing up and down your flesh.

His voice sounded jagged, honey-hot, pouring out across his tongue as he licked his bottom lip and bent down to kiss you on your shoulder. “You wanna get on the bed, honey?”

“Should I… towel?” You’re giving them another chance, afraid of how soaked you are.

Eddie immediately said no, making Steve chuckle. “It’s okay. You’ll let us know if it’s not, right?”

You were all too eager to slide onto Eddie’s king sized mattress, arousal webbed from you, dripping onto the sheets. Eddie reminds himself not to do the laundry for another day. Both men joined you - Eddie on the right, Steve to the left. It’s basics, mechanics, foreplay from there.

If Steve Harrington has to pick a sight to remember when dying — this would be it. Seeing Eddie Munson grind himself into the bed as you ride his face, pulling so hard on his hair, that Steve’s cock kicks up imagining how Munson’s scalp must feel. Your tits bounce with every thrusting movement, eyes glossed over with tears and looking up at the ceiling. You’re panting with exertion, breaths getting choppier. And the second that Steve says “Fingers” for Eddie to remember - you’re literally screaming, uncaring.

“I’m gonna cum,” you suddenly shout, teetering dangerously close. The only things you can see are vivid shapes, eyes darting around rapidly to find your boys through the haze. How your heart is full for them, how you’re trembling.

Eddie pauses and lifts, his face covered and shiny. He’s misty eyed, panting, overwhelmed. But your cream covered curls, your essence on his fingers that are tightening around him, Steve’s blown pupils as he looks over at him — he wants to keep you two here.

“Why did you…?” You’re whining, tilting, trying to fuck yourself onto his fingers.

“Dude, why’d you stop?” Steve is looking incredulous, inching closer, his hard cock pressing at your hip. You blindly reach for him, working yourself up, legs swaying. Steve slides up fast and presses his palm over your thigh to flatten it.

“You okay?” He checks in with Eddie, which makes you also do the same. You tell them you’re fine, Eddie answers next.

“I’m… yeah, man. Just wanted to make sure I was doing fine.”

“Well a girl tells you she’s gonna cum, that means you’re doing great, bud.” Steve can’t help but to look at his (friend?) fondly. He reaches out to pushes along Eddie’s sweat slick curls.

Once you see that things are okay, you feel yourself relaxing back into things, Eddie’s finger still inside. Steve hears you shakily exhale. He folds, tilting his head as he leans back down, Eddie resuming his position. “Come here, honey. We’re gonna let you come, I promise you. You’re doing so good. You feeling good?” You give a nod. “Yeah?”

You smile lazily.

“Steve?”

He switches his gaze from the curly haired rocker between your thighs. “Hmm?”

“Will you put a finger inside of me too?”

Eddie moans, a sound so deep that it has him raising his face to stare Harrington down, pleading with him to do it. Steve has never been so eager, wiggling his digit towards you, watching you accept it with a swirl, licking like you’re on a mission. You really don’t need it, but Steve does it anyways, letting his arm elongate to give you what you ask for — his cock dribbling into his boxers the second that his thick finger slides into your overly wet walls, right beside Munson’s. Everyone moves in unison, Eddie eating like a starved man, Steve working that spot to the point where he knows what’s gonna happen before you or Eddie do. It’s a fun surprise watching your eyes widen and automatically find Steve’s as it happens, Eddie literally rutting maniacally into the bed as your squirt soaks his face, the sheets, Steve’s arm, even his leg.

Watching the two of you come, sends Steve grinding into your thigh, spare hand cupping the nape of your neck, face hiding in your breasts, as he releases heavily into his briefs. The aftermath is slow, beating hearts, lines crossed. There’s disbelief, nervous wonder. You asking them if they’re alright is what brings them back to earth, each guy taking a place beside you, mingled breathing patterns trying to reset. It’s an unspoken agreement, a must provide, when Steve is kissing you softly, reaching for Eddie like he doesn’t care what people would say anymore, meeting his mouth. This is what he wants, it’s what you all need.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 3 returning the favor

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 3/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 4.5k

a/n. hope you enjoy! i really had fun incorporating a lot of the other characters in this one.

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|| 9:21AM Gojo Satoru sent you a photo

|| 9:22AM Gojo Satoru: Here’s our practice schedule for the week. Honestly, it’s better if you come when we do practice games or something, since on other days we just do drills or strength training, but coach doesn’t really tell us what we’re doing beforehand so would probs have to play it by ear

|| 9:27AM Gojo Satoru: Oh yeah, we’ve got a big game in three weeks on the 28th. It’ll decide if we’re automatically seeded into the top 16 teams bracket, which is really crucial if we want to eventually bring home the championship. Not sure when your assignment is due, but that would be a good official game to come to 

|| 9:28AM Gojo Satoru: Let me know as soon as you can if you want to make that game. I’ll have to ask coach to get the referee sign-off for you to be on-field during play at least a week before

You look down at all the messages he was sending you during class on a Monday morning. After he sent you that house party details post from his fraternity’s Instagram page last week, their posts kept popping up in your feed and you saw one this morning with a bunch of the guys in the frat, Gojo included, shotgunning beers until 3AM last night. You marvel at how he’s somehow not hungover beyond repair and is texting you before noon. 

Pressing and holding on to his messages, you give him little thumbs up reactions and you decide on a heart reaction for the picture he sent you of the practice schedule. Then, you set your phone down and look at the video of the men’s soccer team highlights your professor was playing from the game a week and a half ago.

“Here, here, this right here. Midfielder #24 surveyed the field, spotting #13 making a run for it down the flank. Pinpoint pass to left winger, who starts steering through defenders, but loses the ball. Then, center forward #10 steals the ball back! He steals the ball, he fucking steals the fucking ball back!” Your professor was running back and forth in front of the projector screen, his finger following the movement of the soccer ball in the video. Your heart jumps a beat when Gojo shows up on screen, with his signature #10 jersey, and some people in the lecture hall stand up in excitement with the professor. “Beelines towards the goal, and BAM! Goalie stood no fucking chance, ball sent immaculately into the back of the net. Victory for UTokyo, 2-1, in the last seconds of the game!" Your professor cheers and jumps up and down. Some people cheer with him, others sigh, others are in awe, and some simply clap. 

Another entire lecture goes by where the professor spends absolutely no time going over film photography theory and instead just talks about how soccer used to be back in his day. You approach him after class, clutching your laptop case to your chest, and it’s only when you clear your throat in front of him that he finally looks up at you from the podium. 

“Oh, y/n, how can I help you?” He asks as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, professor. Bit of a request, could I have like two extra days for my assignment? There’s this event that I really want to use for the subject matter but it’s the day before the deadline, and I would need some time to develop my photos,” you say in the politest tone you can muster up.

“Yeah, sure. Just get it in before the end of the deadline week,” he says nonchalantly. “Looking forward to seeing it. Good work on the last one, by the way.”

You give him a smile and a word of appreciation before turning on your heel and making it up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, pulling your phone out of your tote bag. 

|| 9:53AM You: i can make it on the 28th. please get that referee permission for me

You press your lips together as you press send, and then type a bit more.

|| 9:54AM You: and thanks a lot

Your stomach is suddenly growling and you’re about to head over to the student hub when your phone starts ringing. You look down at the contact name that says Nobara and pick up.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up,” you say as you make your way towards the heart of campus, enjoying the light breeze as the sun peeked through the clouds. 

“Where are you? Didn’t we have a Film Club meeting today?” She asks you, her tone a bit impatient. “We were supposed to discuss that collaboration with the school newsletter.”

Shoot. You forgot. These days, you were a bit too distracted by recent happenings, like Mina practically falling head-over-heels for a guy that was quite possibly the opposite of her type, the towering amount of class assignments that never seemed to end, and this whole arrangement you were trying to coordinate with Gojo Satoru. The Film Club meeting totally slipped your mind. You were supposed to head out of class a bit early to make it on time. “I’m so sorry, Nobara. I totally forgot about it. I’m unfortunately all the way on the other end of campus right now. I typed up some notes in the document, can you just run those by them? If we need anything else, I’ll reach out to them by email.” 

She sighs on the other end of the line. “Yeah. I’m not good at these conversations, but I guess as President I should be better at them anyways. I’ll let you know how it goes.” And then she hangs up. 

Mentally happy that you were at least free of one other obligation today, you prepare to make your way to the dining hall when your phone vibrates again.

|| 10:01AM Gojo Satoru: Will do, and sure thing. By the way, you free right now? Coach is having us do a practice game, probably for around 2 hours

You squint your eyes at his message, considering the opportunity. You didn’t have any other classes left for the day and were just going to grab something to eat before heading home, but now you wonder if you should make it to this practice session. He did say that you have to be flexible since he doesn’t even know exactly what they’ll end up doing before practice, so you figured this might be your only chance this week to practice capturing shots of them as they play, since it seemed like they had Tuesday & Friday off based on Gojo’s schedule picture. Unfortunately, you only brought your digital camera with you today since your film camera was too heavy to carry around unless you knew you needed it, but you can still do a lot with digital that would help for the film camera shoot. You could make it work.

|| 10:05AM You: yeah, i’m free. i was just gonna grab something to eat first, and then i’ll head over to the field in maybe 15 min. but i’m not exactly sure how to get onto the field, or where the entrance is…

He adds a heart reaction to your message which startles you a little bit. An accident, maybe?

|| 10:06AM Gojo Satoru: Lol, just meet me at that weird art sculpture they put up last semester. The one that cost like all of our tuition money. I’ll walk you to the field

You let out a sigh, somewhat nervous that you'll be seeing him again soon. The last time you saw Gojo was when you left him standing unceremoniously at the kitchen island with a somewhat offending comment. Nonetheless, he didn’t necessarily seem angry at you. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s been way more helpful than you had ever anticipated. You started to feel like the effort you put into getting Mina to go to that house party was nothing compared to the effort he was putting in for you to ace this assignment. 

Stopping by your school’s mini grocery store, you pick up a sandwich plus some strawberry vanilla soda, and take some bites as well as some sips as you leisurely make your way to the expensive art sculpture near the sports fields. As you get closer to it, you see Gojo from a distance talking to some people. A few of them were guys, a few of them girls, and he was laughing out loud at something one of the girls said. A part of you wonders what it’s like to be adored by so many people. 

When he spots you at the other side of the cross walk, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he’s hurriedly saying goodbye to the group in front of him. Their heads turn to each other in confusion before turning their attention in your direction as he makes his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says as he lightly jogs up to the sidewalk you were standing on. You notice he’s wearing a black long sleeve undershirt with a short-sleeved blue one on top, along with some athletic black shorts and running shoes. When he brushes some of his hair away from where it had fallen near his eyes, your heart skips a beat at his handsome expression. A smile graces his face. “You ready?”

You nod, swallowing the mouthful of sandwich you didn’t realize you had stopped chewing, and follow his lead as the two of you cut across behind the batting cages of the school’s softball training area. Your eyes fell to Gojo’s back as he walked on the pavement. His shoulders were broad, shoulder blades pulling the upper half of the fabric of his clothing somewhat taut across as the rest of it freely flowed down to his lean lower back. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was pretty loose-fitting, but you could still see the thickness of his muscles. With every step that he took, his calves flexed in a way that made you realize he must really work out.

“What are you eating?” He says as he turns around to face you, walking backwards for a few paces as he looks at your hands.

“Oh, just a veggie sandwich,” you answer as you hold it up next to your face. “Campus delicacy.”

His smile widens. “And what are you drinking?” This time he asks with a bit more curiosity.

“It's strawberry vanilla soda,” you say as you juggle all of the things you were holding in your arms. 

“Can I have some?” He asks with a somewhat innocent tone. “The soda, I mean. I’ve never had that flavor.” 

You hesitate, but alas you were a people-pleaser. “Sure.” 

He halts his movements and so you do too, and he closes the gap between you two in one exaggerated stride. His hand gently pulls the soda bottle out from where it was tucked into your elbow to keep it from falling. You notice the veins on his hand get more defined as he squeezes & twists to release the cap and it sends something akin to a wave of arousal through your body, entirely startling you. But when he brings the bottle up to his lips with his head tipping backwards, drinking directly from it, neck bobbing as he swallows and a single drop trickles down the expanse of his jawline, the arousal directly hits you at your core. 

“Hm,” he licks his lips. “That’s pretty good.” 

You’re standing there in shock, your grip on your sandwich causing dents in the bread. He dabs the stray droplet of liquid at his chin with the back of his hand and turns around to keep walking ahead, making his way up the stairs onto what looks like a grassy field. It takes you a second to start moving too, and by then you need to do a light jog just to catch up to him. 

There’s a comfortable silence that develops between the two of you and when you glance at Gojo, you notice his eyes are closed and there’s a serene smile on his face, a gust of wind pushing the hair up out of his forehead and sending the blades of grass dancing across the hilly field. You smile too at the sensation of cool wind on your skin. It was a beautiful day outside with sparkling sunshine and quiet whistling wind.

“Can I ask you something?” You say after contemplating if you should interrupt his somewhat meditative state. 

“You can ask me anything,” he easily replies. 

“Why are you so willing to help me out with my assignment?” 

He turns his head to look at you with a neutral expression. “Because you did me a favor.” 

You sigh. “I know…but it really wasn’t that hard to convince Mina to go to that party. I feel like you’re helping me out way more than I helped you out.” A small ladybug lands on the fabric of your jeans and you marvel at it before it flutters its wings and flies away.

He’s silent for a second. “Honestly, when you agreed to help me out with Todo’s little crush, which by the way I had to do because I lost a bet, and you mentioned something about terms and conditions in your message,” he starts to say, a brief pause making its way between the sentence as if he was actively trying to relive that first night he was texting you, “I thought you were going to ask for something sexual in return.” 

Your mouth drops at his line of thinking, suddenly mortified. That’s how your message came across to him? Oh my God, you had to rethink how you texted everyone in your life from now on.

“I mean, weren’t you being a little flirty? ‘My terms and conditions will come later’. Or do I just have some weird sexual brain rot?” His eyes are still on you, his tone way too casual in your opinion for this sudden topic of conversation. You also realize that he thinks having sex with him would be returning you the favor. And then you try not to think about how good he probably is in bed. 

When you can’t think of what to say and just stare at him with wide eyes, he smiles and stretches his arms out in front of him as another gust of wind passes by. “Well, anyways, when you shared what you actually wanted from me and it ended up being a pretty earnest request…let’s just say I was emotionally moved by your dreams and aspirations.” He says that last part somewhat dramatically and you roll your eyes, sending him an annoyed look. “A little disappointed, but nonetheless moved.” 

“Wow, you’re the type of person that would trade favors for sex?” you ask him with a sneer to your tone. 

He sends a lazy smirk to you over his shoulder to where you’re trailing behind him now. “Not really, no, can’t say I’ve ever done it before,” he says slyly, “probably would’ve made an exception for you, though.” And then he’s giving you a wink.

You can’t help but blush a little. He was definitely just teasing you, some hobby of his that he does just to constantly get a kick out of the people around him since he knows he just has that much of an effect on them, so you try not to let his words get past your skin to the more vulnerable parts of you. He’s reading your expression before he speaks up again.

“We’ve already started this little return favor of yours, so no take-backs. It’s an eye for an eye. Not an eye for an eye and throw some casual sex in there, too.” He makes his way up what seems to be the largest hill across the field and he stops at the top, peering out at whatever was across from it. When you made your way to the top too, your eyes widened as you saw an expanse of flat grassiness covered in orange cones, green land markers, white chalk outlines, and netted goals. Oh, and a lot of men. “Alright, you freaky little photographer. Here are your muses.” 

You let out the breath you were holding in and smiled, hands immediately reaching for your digital camera case within your tote bag. A wave of creativity and inspiration hit you as you were finally able to lay your eyes on your subject matter and setting, and you couldn’t wait to get started. 

Gojo makes his way down the hill and you stumble after him. He high-fives a couple of his teammates that were leaving the first wave of practice and makes his way over where the second-wave practice players were stretching on the field and running laps.

“C’mon, Itadori, I’ve seen snails with a more urgent sense of direction than you! Pick up those goddamn knees!” You hear a loud voice from a few feet away from you and flinch, eyeing the scary looking man that had a…Pomeranian dog in his arms? He was wearing a black athletic jumpsuit and had extremely tinted, thick sunglasses on. His facial hair was a bit jarring and you immediately decided you were scared of him, despite how gently he was petting the little dog cradled in his arms. 

“That’s coach Yaga,” Gojo says beside you with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Real nice guy.”

You turn to give him a suspicious look and he just returns it with a wider smile. 

“Hey! It’s y/n,” you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out and you glance at the direction it came from. You see Geto standing next to Nanami and he whacks his hand against the blonde's chest to get his attention when he makes eye contact with you before jogging over. You see Gojo put his hands in his shorts pockets in your periphery. “What are you doing here?” 

You give him a shy smile, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Here to take some photos.”

“Are you with the school newsletter?” Nanami’s smooth voice says as he approaches Geto, standing next to him. They both were wearing matching blue tracksuits. 

“No, I’m not. Just here to…take some photos for one of my classes. It’s for a film photography assignment.” You suddenly wished you were part of the school newsletter committee, so that you could at least provide them with some positive publicity with your photos. You wondered if they would think you’re just using them. As if Gojo could read your mind, he patted Geto harshly on the back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Hear that, punks? She wants to try and take some nice photos of you lot. Be grateful! Of course, your grotesque appearances cannot simply be fixed by any technology yet known to man,” Gojo says rather loudly, continuing to smack Geto on the back. Geto has a small pitiful smile on his face and Nanami just looks annoyed. You feel lighter somehow, less tense. 

“Okay, cool, let us know if we can help in any way,” Geto says kindly as he sits down on the grass to continue stretching out his legs. “Oh by the way, Satoru, Chosou’s out sick today so you might need to cover for goalie.” 

“What? Why’s that fucker always getting sick?” Gojo says as he walks towards one of the duffle bags on the bench, and you assume it’s his. He pulls out a water bottle. “He needs to stop eating that goddamn grocery store sushi.” 

“Oh! Oh! It’s you,” another somewhat familiar voice calls out from ahead. You see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket that had a red hood approaching you from the inner field. Then you recognize he was that guy at the entrance of the house party that called you a- “It’s casual tomboy!” 

Your eye twitches slightly as you take in your appearance. Sure, you were wearing jeans again, but your top was somewhat stylish and feminine. He arrives in front of you and notices the digital camera hung at your neck. “Hey, what’s that?” He points directly at your midriff where the camera sat. He almost pokes his finger right through the delicate attachable lens that cost you nearly two months of rent.

“A little rude, Yuuji,” Geto says, grunting as he switches from one stretch to the other. 

Yuuji gets closer to you to study the camera and you instinctively lean away from him before Gojo is grabbing him by the hood of his jacket and yanking him away from you, Yuuji’s arms flailing out in front of himself in a struggle. “Hey, get back to practice. You’re not allowed to talk to pretty seniors.” 

Coach Yaga grunts and crosses his arms from where he stood a few feet away, the tiny pomeranian now barking at his feet. “I never said you could stop running laps, Itadori! Get your ass back out there! I’ll be sending you to recreational soccer for the rest of your freshman year if you don’t get your damn head straight!” Gojo lets go of Itadori’s hood and the poor boy is scrambling across the field to join what seems like the other first-years for their warm-up laps. Coach Yaga turns to you and gives a hmph before vaguely gesturing to you. “May I know what you’re doing out on my field?”

“Coach!” Gojo says, making his way over to the scary man. He slings his arm around his neck and the man just continues to glare at him through his sunglasses. “She’s with me today. Photographer y/n will be taking some handsome photographs of you that you can send to your wife, and then maybe your wife will actually want to-”

Coach Yaga puts Gojo in a headlock and Gojo’s instantly tapping on his back to get him to ease up. “I dare you to finish that sentence, boy.”

You let out a small laugh. This was certainly a lively bunch. Nanami approaches you and expresses interest in your camera. You lift it up for him to take a closer look. He pinches his chin between his bent index finger and thumb, as if he was a detective analyzing a crime scene. “I see…so this is a film camera.” 

“Ah…” you laugh awkwardly. “No, this is just a digital camera.” 

“I see…so this is a digital camera,” he repeats, equally as intrigued. 

The time eventually comes along where all the players start the practice match. There’s obviously not enough players out on the field for full teams on each side, but they’re split into 1st & 4th years vs. 2nd & 3rd years. You learn that the second wave practice group has the talented players at the top of each of their year groups. Gojo doesn’t seem to participate in the practice match despite one team having to omit having a goalie since the coach requested he sit out to watch the plays and make suggestions.  You’re a bit sad you don’t get to see him play, but figured you’ll have a chance in the future. You take a few snapshots as one of the other first-years, a quiet boy named Megumi, kicks the ball towards the goal that ends up bouncing off the goal frame. You spend some time tweaking the exposure, zoom, and focus until you feel like you have a pretty good idea of the settings you’ll need to get some fluid shots. 

When you look up over the field again, raising your digital camera to your face, you notice Gojo looking at you from across the field where he stood at the sidelines. You both keep your gaze on one another for a couple of seconds, and you boldly lift the camera up to your eye, taking a few snapshots of him. When you pull it away, look down at the results on the small screen, and then glance back up at him, his eyes are slightly wide. Something stirs within you when you remember his words from earlier: I thought you were going to ask for something sexual.

Your mind wanders back to the party from last weekend, and the feeling of him leaning down next to your ear in the kitchen as he said “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” The memory itself made your cheeks feel warm. Did he…think that something was going to happen that night at the party? Probably would’ve made an exception for you…Disappointed, but nonetheless moved. Somewhere in the haziness of your thoughts, you realize that meant that Gojo would’ve wanted to sleep with you if that was indeed your condition.

When you look to the other side of the field again, Gojo’s eyes are still on you but his handsome face looks a bit troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, but for some reason you felt like he could tell what you were. When you raised an eyebrow at him, his face relaxed and he slowly shook his head as if to say it's nothing. 

Coach Yaga’s sharp whistle cuts through the silent conversation you two were having as he yells, “alright, boys. Practice over! Go stretch yourselves out.” 

You quickly stuff your digital camera back into its case and collect your things into your tote bag. In your peripheral vision, Gojo’s making his way over to you and when he’s right next to you, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“How’d it go? Get some good shots?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” You’re still not looking at him, pretending to fiddle with something in your tote bag. He leans down a bit to look at your face more clearly when he notices you’re not meeting his gaze, but you still struggle to make eye contact with him. “I’ve gotta go, can you tell the guys I said bye?” And then you’re making your way up the hill.

There’s a beat of silence as confusion washes over him from your behavior. “Hey, wait, y/n, do you know how to get back to campus?”

You spin to face him when you're at the top of the hill, finally looking him in the eye. There’s a concerned expression on his face. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thanks a lot for today. Let me buy you a strawberry vanilla soda sometime, okay?” Flashing him a small smile, you turn around and run down the hill, ignoring the fast beating of your heart.

a/n. thanks a bunch for reading!

➸ take me to chapter four!

[eudaimaniacs]

strawberries - part ii (logan howlett x female reader) | part i

character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)

word count: 1.4k words

warning/s: smut, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, and one mention of somnophilia

notes: i am feeling a bit better now and finished writing the sequel for my last post. i can't wait to write more since my semestral break is coming (might need some requests for inspiration). enjoy reading!

The smell of fresh and fruity strawberry jam infused the cozy cottage air. You watch Holly as she is tempted to taste it by asking you if she can.

“No, honey. The jam is still hot, and we need to cool it down,” you instructed the eager young girl sitting on the countertop.

It was dinnertime, and you decided to prepare both breakfast and supper. You called Holly to help you prepare the tools and jars needed for the jam. The process took longer as you cared for an energetic and hungry three-year-old. Holly snuck a few strawberries to eat, and you told her that if she had more, there would be less strawberry jam to enjoy. The young girl cried out to her dad, almost taking her away from the kitchen. Logan thankfully calmed Holly down, and she was back to being excited about eating it for breakfast.

“It’s time to prepare for dinner, Holly. Tell your dad it’s time to eat,” you carried your daughter and let her run off to Logan. Holly giggled as she excitedly sprinted to show your husband the fresh strawberry jam and the food the two of you made. You grinned as you prepared the plates and utensils and set them on the wooden table. You went back to the kitchen to get the steak, potatoes, mixed vegetables, and chicken nuggets for Holly.

As you put on the last meal, the middle of the table was decorated with the most beautiful bouquet. Blooming blush peonies and white daisies complimented the sage green table runner you recently bought weeks ago. Holly held a pink peony as she struggled to sit on the chair to eat.

“Bought a last-minute gift for this beautiful dinner, [Y/N],” Logan gushed as he kissed your forehead and sat down. You prayed a short grace before eating, and the three of you began to consume supper. Holly started the usual dinnertime conversations with her tales of imaginary friends, the strawberry jam you made with her, and the jokes she and Logan would make.

As your daughter told the latest fairytale she read, you focused on eating the steak and tried not to touch Logan for the upcoming event tonight. He could smell your arousal even with the delicious food on the table. You were excited to spend the night with Logan, making a new child and sibling for Holly to play with.

While you ate the last steak on your plate, your daughter innocently asks, “Mommy, Daddy, can I get a little sister or brother?”

You and Logan dropped both of your utensils as Holly caught the attention of the two of you. You struggled to answer the question as you glanced at Logan, who was flustered. She had never asked or even hinted that she wanted a sibling in this household. You and Logan wanted another child but agreed to wait some years before having a second child. You went to the nearest neighborhood for Holly to play with children her age, but you sensed that she could get lonely when she’s stuck at home.

“Sure, you can, bub,” Logan replied as he ruffs the soft hair of the young girl. Holly giggled and thanked him before finishing the leftover food on her plate. You chuckle as you see Logan smirk, knowing you two will fulfill the first child’s wish.

You turn on the ballerina music box as you lull Holly, tired from the day of excitement. She groggily remarks how she’s looking forward to tasting the strawberry jam tomorrow morning. You pat her head as you watch her slowly close her eyes and dream until the sun breaks out. You kiss her forehead and head out to go to the bedroom.

“Is she asleep?”

You sit at the vanity chair to brush your hair and see Logan wearing his tank top. Your eyes wander to the tight denim jeans and unbuckled belt. Oh, he was waiting.

You sigh and softly stare at Logan, “Seems like she’s going to have a great dream tonight.”

The dim, yellowish lamp decorating the bedroom made you ethereal and radiant in this intimate setting. Logan intensely stared as he sat on the bed, waiting for you to stop brushing your hair. You hum as you remove your nightrobe little by little. Your heart was pumping faster as you and Logan would make another child. You hear Logan shuffling out of bed and standing next to you.

“Getting impatient here, princess,” Logan’s guttural voice made you shiver. He tucked your hair and imprinted your neck. You moan at the sensation of his tongue marking you. You grab his arm as Logan continues to kiss and bite your neck.

Out of breath, Logan growled, “Let’s go to bed, [Y/N].” He seized your hand and gently pushed you on the mattress. You slowly took off his tank top, exposing his magnificent build and chest hair that will always make you weak. You spread your legs as Logan held himself from tearing off your nightgown. Your lustful and sleepy eyes tell him that you want him, you need him.

Logan clutched the hem of your nightgown and slowly took it off. You sigh as you feel the cold air crashing over your exposed body. The man on top growled as he saw your soft breasts and the transparent, lacy cream panties covering your arousal. You wrap your legs around Logan as your desires of getting fucked and bred by him rise more.

“Too eager, princess?” Logan whispered as he squeezed and massaged your boobs and perked your nipples.

“Oh, yes, fuck. Please give me another child, Lo. Want another kid,” you moaned as you grind yourself on his jeans. Logan chuckled at your impatience and granted both of your wishes. He unzips his pants, takes off his underwear, and slowly enters inside of you. You whine at Logan’s massive size and immediately embrace his broad back. You scratch his back at the intense pleasure. Logan’s drive to breed you until the sun peeks out of the curtains made it more exciting.

He didn’t give the usual rough and fast sex, wanting to be more passionate as he gave you another child. The sight of you carrying his child made him hard, and your commitment to your family made Logan weak and soft. The two of you silently moaned, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful, sleeping daughter. You tapped Logan’s hand, signaling that you were close.

“Want me to fill you up, princess?” Logan huskily said as he quickened his pace.

At a loss for words, you try to reply and state how much you want to be filled with his warm cum and have Logan’s child again. He chuckled as he heard your weak whispers and whines, trying to articulate the upcoming orgasm. Logan positioned your legs over his shoulders, making sure that his seed went inside of you.

“Here it comes, [Y/N]!” Logan growled as he released his warm cum to your tight walls. You moaned at the feeling of his sticky substance coating your pussy. Logan immediately lay beside your shaking, out-of-breath body. You snuggle against his chest as he kisses your head and massages your back.

“Thought we were going to fuck until morning, Lo,” you sleepily remark. You were tired; however, you expected Logan to ensure you were bred. Your lustful and exhausted eyes look at Logan’s soft ones to hear his explanation.

Logan passionately kisses you, your sweet, honey-like taste coating his tastebuds. You yawn as you nestled in his chest, hearing the soft thumping of his heart.

“I wish we could, [Y/N], but we promised to eat strawberry jam with Holly tomorrow morning,” Logan whispered. You giggle at the remembrance that the two of you have to wake up early and eat breakfast with your daughter. You were excited to have another child finally and for Holly to have a sibling to play with.

“You need to sleep, princess. If I get hard again, I might fuck my seed again inside of you,” Logan remarked. You slapped his chest as you lightly scolded him and reminded him that you two needed to be awake in the morning. You hum yourself to sleep and feel your lids closing little by little. The last thing you hear is the soft groans of Logan sleeping. The two of you are in a tight and loving embrace, and you are filled with Logan’s love for you and his growing family. All you could dream of was the taste of your homemade strawberry jam and the conception of you and Logan’s second child.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[wandanatw0rld]

+18 | men&minor denied

beefy!natasha romanoff x pillowprincess!female reader x college!au

warnings: girlxgirl; Natasha being a boxer; biceps drives reader crazy, so biceps kink(?); semi-public sex; sex on Yelena's car; tattooed Natasha being a popular hot ass; reader being popular as well and Wanda her (platonic?) bestie; a little bit of agnst; smut; brief thigh riding (flashback); Natasha is head over heels about reader boobs and her skirts, supposed cheating, strap on use (r receaving); not proofread.

Just a heads up:

((a) ... - ... (a.))

It means that I'm going to post something about it soon

I guess that's it, have fun ;D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha Romanoff is an asshole and you hate her with all of your being. That's what you're going to say to everyone, but in reality, you really miss her. Wanda lost the count of how many times did you two broke up and she was there to catch the pieces of your heart; sometimes it was just a small piece, but this time it's a big one. Being popular helpt a bit to forget about the red hair, but not fully since you see her on your class break.

You really liked Natasha, but appearly she liked other women and flirted with them.

On fridays, normally you have a party to go, but not this one, you need to study for finals and join Wanda at her dorm to do this together. You put the backpack strap on your shoulder, but before coming out of the class room, you give a final look in the mirror to check how you look. Hair falling on your back, strawberry lip gloss, light make up on the eyes, perfect as always, but the outfit is probably the most important part of you. Pleated skirt, long sleeve shirt under Natasha's favorite rock band t-shirt, The Marvels, and a your black boots. You know the outfit will drive Natasha insane and you love it.

Leaving the classroom, everyone is looking at you, the most popular girl in the college, good grades, polite and gentle, who see you at first will imediatelly thinks you are a shallow whore, but you're not. However, something that people envy about you, every girl, especially the one you hate the most, is that you date, after you, another popular student in the Avengers University.

Natasha Romanoff has even better grades than you, she is mostly quiet and nice, great at sports, loves boxing. She works at the gym next to campus, so many girls go there just because of her, you hate it, but makes the red hair really happy that people trust and follow her instructions.

You used to love seeing Natasha training, punching hard the bag, her tattoed muscles shining while she was sweating. Her biceps always turned you on, especially when you were doing your homework sitting on the corner, legs crossed, writing things down. Some brief moments, when you look at her and wanted being fucked so bad. And she did. She always did. Natasha never says no to her favorite girl.

(a) ...

"You're so hot in this skirt, Detka" Her fingers stretching you out, you're so wet that they keep slipping out.

"Nat- please... Mhmm... Fuck!" She bites the soft skin on your neck, her sweating body against yours makes you moan really loud. Natasha keeps pushing her digits into your pussy, letting a growl coming through her lips when your nails scratch deep her forearm while the orgasm hits you hard.

"So perfect, malyshka".

... (a.)

You washed your thoughts while walk through the hallways, nodding almost gracefully for some students greeting you, so immersed in your on courtesy that doesn't hear someone calling your name.

"Hey, wait" It's Clint, Natasha's best friend. He's carrying some books. "I've been calling your name like forever. Have you seen, Nat?" So she didn't tell him that you two broke up, Natasha tells him everything.

"No, why?" You didn't lie, really not seen her since that night.

"You know, the finals are coming and has two days that she doesn't come to class. She needs to study" Natasha Romanoff skipping classes, something really critical must happened. Having you two broken up before, she always attended classes. "Can you take these books to her? She is probably at the gym".

No I can't, cause we broke up. You wanted to say that, but instead, you just say:

"Ok, I'll take them" Clint leaves with a short wave and you call Wanda.

"I'm waiting for you" She hums.

"I'm gonna get late, Wands. Clint gave me some books to deliver to Natasha" Wanda rolled her eyes while separating some ingredients on her cabinet. "He said that she's skipping classes".

"You really broke her heart this time, honey" She laughs. You always knew that they both never get along, but never known why - actually you do, although prefer to ignore. "You're gonna get late cause you're gonna get laid" Wanda mocks.

"No, I'm not. Bye, love ya".

"Love ya". Wanda, goofly, smiles.

The gym is closed apparenlly, but just for cleaning or something else that you didn't bother to read. You entered, there's loud rock music and you're sure that's Natasha, The Marvels playing really loud. You know that she do this when mad, the last time was about her father, she was so angry that her punches almost fall apart the punching bag plus you had the most insane orgasm when she fucked you from behind in Steve's office.

(b) ...

"Malyshka, you're so good to me" Her nails digging on your waist, her hips bumping against your butt, strap sliding real smooth because of your soaked cunt. "So beautiful accepting everything for me" You feel her front on your back, teeth biting hard the skin on your ribs.

Natasha's fingers starts rubbing your needy bud.

"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck!" You bite your hand, the small room insanely hot. People, who starts their activities at the gym, their voices on the other side of the door add another layer of lust.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can cum on my cock" The walls tighten Natasha's cock, she grip your jaw very softly, way more different than what her hips are doing, turning you to face her, kiss feather-like, her tongue tangled on yours. You feels the nod in your stomach undoing.

"Oh God... Fuck!" Your teeth marked on the back of your hands.

... (b.)

Slowly, you went to the room. You were right, Natasha was angry, fists punching so hard that it's seems the whole world was shaking. Sweating and shining biceps made you moan in your mind. She sees you, then stops the music.

"Hi". You greet, Natasha analyzes you up and down, don't get to see it but her pupils has grownth in lust when she sees you in that skirt, it always worked to turn her on. You take a few steps closer, her red hair tied with a braid, she's wearing a top tank blue shirt, breasts beautifully together, cotton shorts. "Why aren't you going to classes?".

"Cause I didn't want to" She answered, cold and sharp.

"Clint asked me to bring you these" You show her books, steps getting closer, very carefully. "What's going on? You just do this when you're mad".

"I'm fine, thanks" She took the books from your hands.

"Okay. Bye" You turn your back to leave.

"Wait" Natasha licked her lips, the sweat make some strands of her hair stick on her cheeks and temples. "Yelena is coming".

"But you love your sister".

"I do, but not this weekend" You sat on the edge of the ring.

"Why?" Natasha's breath finally gets in order.

"She bringing her girlfriend to a double date" .

"Double date with- Oh" You understand, Natasha follows your action, sitting, being this close, you can smell the sweat mixed to her woody perfume, it drives you crazy.

"And my parents are coming too and I didn't tell anyone that we broke up" You look at her, arms cross, her tattooed biceps all sweat and firm, God you love her arms.

(c)...

"Malyshka, it tickles" your teeth dragging on her arms, fingers squeeze them while your hips start moving on her thigh.

"I can't helped. I love your arms" You find the right spot and then starting to move on that.

"Do you, detka?" She kisses your neck, her fingers on your waist, helping with friction on your needy bud.

"Fuck" Your nails scratching her forearms.

"Do you want to sit on my arms and make a mess on them?" You nod, her husky voice made you moan next to her ear. "That's what you want, pretty girl?"

"Yeah" Your moves are frantic, everything you could do is to imagine. "Oh God, I want".

"Yeah, I'm your God. Am I?" You just nod, rubbing more and more your pussy against her thigh, clit desperate to attention.

... (c.)

"I was thinking... Maybe you can pretend we're still together?" Natasha is very close now.

"Nat, I don't think is good idea".

"Please, I'll do anything" Her green limpid eyes never failed to make you crumble, especially when she needed something.

(d) ...

"Pretty please, malyshka" You're under her body, hands sat on her shoulders. "Just a little bit, I promise".

"Nat, it will hurt" Natasha would never do anything to harm you, but she needs your boobs so badly now. Just a tiny little bit, it won't kill.

"I'll be quick" You know that's a lie, when it comes to play with your breasts, Natasha is never quick. "You can even stay lying. Please...".

"Okay, but be carefull, you know they're sore".

"I will, detka" Natasha pull up your shirt, it's actually hers, but you love to use. Your nipples pinch in pain, being on your period, both of you not having sex for almost a whole week made Natasha really desperate, seeking for any opportunity to get physical. Not being allowed to touch your breasts, her favorite part of you, drives her crazy.

You moan in a mix of pain and relief when her tongue circled your left nipple.

"Nat..." She's smiling on your breast, caressing, torturing you. Natasha suck it, her thumbs on your stomach going slow, really slow. "Nat, we can't." You stop her hands.

"Don't worry, detka. I know what I'm doing" Her digits passing through the waistband of your underwear.

... (d.)

"If you do this for me, I'll promise to never ask anything to you" You look at her, green eyes still looking deep in your soul. "Pretty please, malyshka" You can smell her scent more and more closely.

"Please, don't call me that" Oh, but I will. Natasha knows exactly what turns you on. When her accent come real thick while she's fucking you, or in the middle of a fight and happened to curse someone. When she calls you 'detka' and even better 'malyshka', you know what these two words means and it's so sexy and smooth that it never failed to make you forget why were mad at her.

"Call you what, detka?".

"I hate you!" You hold your breath.

"No, you don't" Her fingers touch your thighs. "God, I love you in these skirts. Remember how easy it was to put my hands under" And she does, you close your eyes. "Oh... you hate me so much that your panties are this soak... Tsk... So pathetic, malyshka".

"No, you're pathetic" You get up, anger warming your ears up, hating that Natasha have this much effect on you. "You're an asshole, Natasha".

"I'm an asshole?!" Natasha imitates you, getting up. "You're the one who broke up with me".

"I broke up with you because you cheat on me with Maria".

"My god, you're so stupid. I didn't do anything, for the thousandth time, I have zero interest in her" Natasha's nails dig into her palms, you see the red lines in there. "I want you, why is that so hard to believe?".

"Everybody saw you two at Tony's party, Natasha. Or her mouth wasn't glued to your ear, huh?" You never act so insecure before, always knew what you wanted, what to do, but when Natasha came and made you feel like the most important woman in the world, you started to fear losing everything you both had and the red hair realize that she prefers to be with somebody else.

"She was acting like an idiot and I pushed her. I would never do something to hurt you, you know that".

"I don't know anything anymore, Natasha" You turn your back to her, collecting the backpack.

"Please, be my date tomorrow. I want to impress my dad" Natasha is desperate and you feel terrible, almost at least. "Pretty please, malyshka".

"Okay, but will be the last time we'll be together".

"Fine". Natasha's clench her jaw, she takes what she get.

(e)...

Natasha was in your dorm at eight, the exact time she texted you last night, Wanda was there to support you, they greeted each other seriously and strictly. You went to pick up your things, leaving the two women together at the tiny living room.

"If I see her cry after this dinner, I'll kill you, Romanoff" The now blonde, Natasha, smiled at Wanda.

"Oh, and let her just for you?" Wanda lose her composure just a little. "Nah, I don't think so, witch".

"I'm ready" . Wow. Is everything that Natasha Romanoff can think, the black dress glued on your body, curvy waist well molded by it, but clearly her favorite part of you, your breasts squeezed together, the black high heels wetting up her core. Correction: everything that Natasha can think is how much she wants to devour you.

The stopped car in front of the building is not hers, it's probably Yelena's, but you didn't bother to ask about it. Natasha always liked motorcycles.

"You've changed your hair" Noticing that made Natasha really happy, the blonde hair it's cut on her jaw line, you used to like the red hair, it brings a very 'don't fuck with me' vibes, but now she looks more powerful, plus that suit really fits her. You look her up and down and almost lose the track of what happened between you two, if it wasn't for that, you'll probably grab Natasha to a kiss, her strong hands bring you to her lap, then they go to your butt, squeezing, dipping her nails on it.

"Did you listen to anything that I said?" You both are in front of the fancy restaurant, Red Room, you never went there before, it makes you worried a bit. "Don't worry, my parents will pay".

... (e.)

You're walking alone, if it weren't for you not paying attention to the road on the way with Natasha, you'd probably know where you were going. The dinner was a disaster, Natasha's family and Kate probably think you're crazy or have a mental ill, it's cold and you don't have any idea of what neibourhood is it.

You're feeling terrible, the look in Natasha's face when you look for a confirmation about her mom and dad already knowing about you two made you feel really sad, the whole purpose of having that dinner was to make you both get back together. Thinking and thinking about it, you're more lost than before.

"Hi, cute thing. Are you lost?" A man in a circle formed by five men, asked you. "We can help you?"

"All of us" The other man says, he has a cigarette between his lips, his nails are filthy.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you". You press your arms onto your body.

"Oh don't be like that" The first guy comes to you, his hands touching your skin. "You're so cold. We can warm you up, baby".

"I said no, thanks" You pushed him.

"What a courageous whore, aren't you?" His hands try to grab your face.

"There you are!" You never loved to see Natasha on this night so much than you do now. "I told you to wait that I'd give you a ride. Oh, good evening, gentlemen" Knowing the blonde really well, she's just being polite, but deep down, Natasha wants to kill every men in that street, especially the one who touched you.

"Why don't you join us?" The man ask. You run from his grasp and entered the car.

"No, thanks. We're late to meet our friends. Maybe another day. Good night".

You're freezing and Natasha notices, so she closes the windows and puts her jacket over your shoulders, you grab the fabric staring at your feet. The silent is stranger, but at the same time it is not.

Starting to think about everything that happened, if it wasn't for Natasha you'll probably dead or worse, raped in some alley. You wanted to say 'thank you', but you're too afraid and confuse to do it. The car has stopped at your dorm building.

"Are you okay?" You nod. "Look, about the dinner, I'm-" But what Natasha was going to say has become unknown, your lips on hers, hand on her face while the other one unfastens your seat belt. Tasting her lips after days makes you really happy, you feel the arms circling your waist, trying to bring you close. Your nails scratch the side of her neck, red marks glissining, Natasha push her tongue into your mouth, you releasing her from the seat belt before climbing on her lap. The feeling of having her tongue trapping yours made you moan, wanting more. You can feel the thightness on her pants, she's wearing a strap. God, she is. You push her, hair and lipstick all messy, she is a mount of huff and puffs. "You didn't let me finish".

"I love you too" Your hands captured her face, her beautiful and pierced green eyes are shining, but there's no tears. "I'm sorry for everything, Nat".

"I'm sorry too" She rests her forehead on yours. "I don't want to be apart from you, ever. It sucks had to look at you and not able to talk or touch" Her hands stroke your hair to the back, on your ears. "I want you to be mine".

"Then make me yours" Her eyes are all black, there is no hint of green on them, you pass to the backseat, Natasha does the same. You take off her blazer, hands all sloppy on the white shirt, pop up the buttons, then throw it anywhere. You kiss her jaw line, chin, bite the skin while she smiles at you, going down to her neck, sucking, marking her, your on way to make Natasha yours. Hands unbuckling her pants, strap bulge against your needy cunt. "Nat, kiss me" you don't have to say twice, she kisses you, it's more urgent, breathless, her hands pulling your dress to your waist, the top following it.

"Your breasts are amazing". She grabbed them, pulling together, thumbs circling your nipples, getting hard. Natasha's eyes are shining in adoration, she could watch you forever.

"Nat, just fuck me" You pull her close, tongue licking her upper lip really slow, the action made Natasha moan, desperately taking her pants off and throwing with the shirt. After unbuckling her bra, your fingertips touch every tattoo that the blond hair has in her shoulders, torso, her pierced nipple getting hard while you slightly pinch them.

"Alright, detka" Pulling your panties off your body, she slightly rubs your clit, feeling your wet pussy and then positioned the strap on your entrance, slowly pushing through your folders, her hands resting on your waist.

"Slow..." You softly pushed by her waist bone, it hurts a little, it's been a while since you used the strap, your legs trapping her waist, high heels landed on her ass, throwing your head back while her lips sucks your right nipple. "Nat... Oh f-fuck!" Your nails dig into the back of her head, grabbing the short blonde hair, while hers on your waist. It hurts like hell.

"God, I'd give anything to feeling you tight around me" You bring her to a kiss, her strap starting to hit your soft spot. "I love you. Fuck!" Her thrusts make the car shakes, you bite your lips. "Don't worry, detka. Let me hear your moans, please".

And you do, it's enough to improve her movements, her face in the crook of your neck.

"You're so perfect" Her teeth bite the skin there, she snifs your scent then licks your neck, marking, thumb rubbing your needy bud. "I'm making you mine. All mine. Just mine" Natasha starts to curse in russian, that turned you on even more, you need to learn it, anything to know what's she's saying. Holding her face in your hands, you kiss her again, slow and passionately. Her thumb moving on your clit, nails scratching her shoulders to her lower back, hips moving on her hand, Natasha look down on her cock, your cunt beautifully taking it, she growls on your ear. "You should see this, pretty girl. The way your pussy is taking me". It drives you to insanity.

"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck" You bite her shoulder, coming down in a painfull and wet way, teeth dipping into her arm, nails in her forearm.

"Hold it, just a bit. I'm coming too" Her thrusts are sloppy, the strap coming off your folders, you need to help her, so your thumb touch her needy clit. "Shit!" It's everything that she can think now.

You came together, her mouth against yours, sharing a messy kiss. Her hips stopping gradually, forehead on your shoulder.

"You were perfect, malyshka" You're breathless, sweating, your hair is a mess.

"Nat, I need to help you. You didn't cum" Natasha sweet smile at you, thankful.

"You don't have to, detka" She kisses your cheek. "I'm alright, don't worry".

"Nat... I'm hungry" You didn't eat anything at the dinner and you're always hungry after sex, Natasha remember all the time to leave some snacks for both of you on her headboard.

"I know, detka. Let me just get myself together".

You both put back your clothes, sharing affectionate smiles, but you wear her jacket now, Natasha smile at you, really happy when your eyes meet the cheeseburger and milkshake in front of you.

"So good".

"I bet it is, malyshka". Her hands stroke your hair behind your ears.

"Your family hates me" You realize while drink a sip of strawberry milkshake.

"No, they don't. Was my father idea to arrange that dinner and try to makes us be together again" Natasha shyly smiles. "My mom say that the only good ideas he had in his entire life was to marry her and coming to America" She laughs.

"Yelena and Kate? My God, they think I'm crazy". Eyes wide open while you wipe your mouth.

"No they don't, but Kate will definitely win twenty bucks".

"Why?" You ask finishing your burger, Natasha seems ashamed to answer, but she does.

"They bet we'll have sex in Yelena's car" You're shocked, your mouth is a perfect 'o', cheeks all red and hot.

"Make her lose".

"Why?" you slap Natasha's arm.

"Because it's your sister's car, Natasha" Hidding your face between your hands, you whine. "It's so embarrasing".

"Come on, detka... We had sex planty of times in Steve's office and Professor Carter class room".

"Oh God!".

"Exactly, you said that everytime".

"Stop!".

"I'm sorry" She laughs again. God, she missed being like this with you.

"I'm breaking up with you again" you said embarrased.

"No, please. I'll stop". She kisses your cheek. "No more jokes".

"Thanks". You snuggle on her body, yawning.

"Okay, let's take you home" Natasha grabs a few dollar bills in her wallet and put it on the table.

"Can I sleep with you?" You ask, shyly.

"Of course you can, malyshka".

You both go to Natasha's place, her parents gave to her as gift for entering the college, living all alone, she invites you to live there many times, but always dismissed her. It's warm and quiet, she take off her shoes and you do the same, following her like a little duck and she thinks is adorable.

"Do you wanna take a bath?" You denied, her hands on your hips, while yours play with her blonde hair.

"I just want to get some sleep" You hug her, inhale her scent. "I liked your hair".

"It was Yelena's idea, she said that I had to change to have you back" Lips pressed on her collarbone, her skin so soft and warm. "But I liked my red hair though" You squeezed her, hands passing through her blazer. "I'm happy with your approval". They find a place on her small back, your lips still marking her skin. "Malyshka, it's hard to thinking with you doing this".

"It is?" You said it with a playful smile.

"Yeah". Pushing her, you laced your hands together, Natasha look at it with sweet smile.

"I'll stop then".

"Okay, let's change". Natasha bedroom is almost all white, except to the master wall, the one that the headboard of her bed is. It's a very soft pink, you wondered why she picks that color.

"Nat, why this wall is different from the others?" There's no better time to do it then now, at least you think. She look at you in a very softly and calm way, like when a child ask something really cute.

"Because remind me of you" It's simple, but made your cheeks get all red and warm. "When we were so busy during test weeks, tons of homework and I am really stressed cause we can't see each other properly, I remember of you, of your lip gloss" She is the one with red cheeks now. "It's stupid, but helps me relax".

"It's not stupid" You hold her face, pecking her cheek. "It's cute and I like it". She smiles at you, thankful, and then pull you until her closet.

"You left some clothes in here". You know that, but you're going to grab hers, anyways. "I'm gonna take a glass of water. I'll be right back, malyshka".

"Okay" Natasha leaves the room and it's enough for you to sneek around while putting her clothes. You choose another The Marvels t-shirt, taking off your dress in front of the mirror, there's marks everywhere, on your breasts, neck, Natasha's scretchs all over your waist, thank god is sunday, otherwise you'll have to wear make up.

After brushing your teeth, you snuggled into her bed, the pillows smells exactly like her.

"Sorry for taking so long, I had to comeback to Yelena's car. I forgot this" Your cheeks are red, crimson even, when you see the strap on her hand. "Are you sleepy?" You nod, she's bringing one glass, put it on the table next to bed. "I'm gonna change and then we'll sleep, okay malyshka?".

"Okay, babe". You said, smiling under the blankets.

"Babe? I can get used to that". She caress your nose with hers.

It took a few minutes until Natasha take off her clothes and brush her teeth, top tank shirt and undies. She comes next to you.

"My clothes, huh?".

"Smells like you" You said timid.

"And now, like you" she kisses your neck, hands on your waist, going down, a little bit more on your thighs, nothing sexual, she just loves to touch you. "I love you, malyshka".

"I love you too, babe" Natasha smiles, you strokes her blonde hair on her ears.

"Can you say it again?" .

"Say what? Babe?" .

"Yeah, but say that you love me".

"I love you... Babe" Smiling, she pulls you close, your face on the crook of her neck.

"Good night, malyshka".

"Good night, babe" Natasha chuckles, squeezing you on her arms.

Natasha Romanoff is a soft dork and you love her with all of your being, that's what you're gonna say to everyone from now on. And you'll never want to miss her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~