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imthebadguyyy · 7 months ago

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Coming Back Home To You

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel/avengers

synopsis : after a new threat wreak havoc on the team, steve suggests a safehouse with a surprise awaiting them inside.

a/n : inspired majorly by clints house!!

warnings : mentions of mind control and injuries etc. typical marvel stuff

the quinjet is completely silent, apart from the quiet hum of the engine. the entire team is still, dark shapes in the dimly lit cabin, everyone in varying levels of disarray.

natasha sits completely still, eyes staring unseeingly at the large console while a worried bruce sits beside her, combing her short red locks behind her ears. thor sits across from them, hand trembling slightly as it gripped mjolnir, mouth pressed in a thin line.

clint sits on the other end of the space, eyes squeezed shut as his wife spoke softly from the phone, reassuring him the 4 of them were all okay. tony sits a little away from him, his hands gripping his phone, staring at the picture of pepper and him peeking out at him.

wanda sits next to steve, her eyes wet with unshed tears, glimmering in the fading sunshine. steve casts worried glances in her direction from time to time, as he commanders the jet, the coordinates set in as he informs maria about where they're going. bucky sits on the other side, quiet, but not as badly affected as the rest. he had stayed on the jet for the majority of the time.

"i think we need a small break. some time to reset. whatever these things are, we need a break okay?" he says, voice firm. his team is down and he needs to look after them.

"where are you going to take them?" maria hill's voice fills the empty space. "a safehouse. fury knows where" is his cryptic response and she furrows a brow, but decides if fury knows, it's safe enough.

"okay. keep me posted" she replies, and logs off. steve takes a deep breath and wonders how it all went so wrong. one minute they were taking down the hydra base, and the second, they had all been blasted black, minds trapped in a simulation of them carrying out their deepest fears.

even wanda had been caught off guard, and before they knew it, bucky had brought the jet closer and steve was struggling off the ground to get the others back into the jet, back to safety.

they had all remained entrapped, until one by one it broke and they all snapped out gasping and shaking.

the sky is fading, a soft orange shade similar to ripe peaches, streaks of golden sunshine peeking out occasionally, as they sped away from the city, white clouds becoming more and more prominent as they reached the countryside.

after what felt like hours, steve landed the jet in what seemed like an isolated farmland, acres of green land and small dairy farms in smatterings across the area.

"where are we?" thor asked, helping wanda get to her feet. "yeah cap, are you sure this place is safe? it seems deserted" tony said, hiding the slight quiver in his knees.

"it's safe" he confirmed, helping bruce get natasha to her feet. "just have to walk for 5 minutes to the left" he continued, leading the way.

the team followed silently behind, trudging like a pack of kicked puppies, exhaustion laced on every line on all their faces.

"how do you know this place is safe?" clint asked, striding up to catch up with steve. "you'll see" he responded, smiling softly when a large house came into view.

"oh.." clint said, eyes brightening as he looked to steve for confirmation. he gave him a small smile in response.

a beautiful rustic, wooden house stood surrounded by what seemed like never ending green farmland. a beautiful wooden shed stood beside the house, and pretty flower pots and trees trailed around the house.

a beautiful patio was at the back of the house, with a small outdoor fire place and covered in fairy lights and small light bulbs, with a small table and couches.

it seemed to scream homely and comforting,and seemed to exude an aura of warmth. clint took in the place with a smile, noting the swing set and slide in the yard, and assorted collection of children's toys in the backyard.

"what is this place?" wanda muttered groggily, holding onto thor for support. "you'll see, but please wipe your feet on the mat" he said, gently pushing the front door of the house open.

what greeted them was the scent of vanilla and musk, oakwood and patchouli, and the subtle whiff of pinecones. the hallway was bright and sunny, pretty paintings and photos decorating the walls. there were small figurines made of ceramic, that looked hand painted.

as steve turned the corner, natasha noted the way he kept glancing up the long staircase, eyes glimmering with what looked like endless adoration.

"sweetheart?" he called softly, taking off his shield and setting it down on a shoe rack, that looked like it was made for his shield.

he neared the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon filled the air, and thors tummy rumbled loudly.

"steve?" came a honeyed voice, and the team was able to put a face to the voice when a gorgeous woman made her way out from behind the stove. she had eyes that sparkled softly, crinkled in a bright smile as she looked at their captain. she had an elegance to her, an aura of gentility and kindness that seemed to radiata in the brightness of her smile.

she was clad in a soft summer sundress dress, a pretty white dress that was covered in blue flowers, flowing just below her knees. they watched her eyes widen in joy, and rush towards steve, who pulled her into his arms, head burying into her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her plush waist, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders, before pulling away and pressing his lips to her own, a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away.

"hi sweetheart" he murmured against her lips before drawing back, suddenly hyper-aware of his team. "you're home!" the woman exclaimed again a soft laugh leaving her lips. "yes I am, and i have a few guests darling, i hope that's alright?" he asked, gently cradling her head in his palm

"uh sure! hi!" you said, waving kindly to the disheveled team. bruce smiled at you, confusion still present in his eyes, while thor and wanda gave you warm smiles. natasha looked at you giving you a once over, before flashing you a weak smile. she decided she liked your kind eyes.

"y/n!" bucky exclaimed, rushing forward to pull you into a tight hug. you laughed, squeezing him, before pulling back to assess him. "hi buck! how are you?"

the super soldier grinned at you, eyes flashing with an odd expression as he shook his head sadly. "I'm okay"

"care to introduce the rest of us?" tony chimed in awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"guys, meet my wife, y/n l/n rogers." steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close to him.

"i know all your names" you confessed, playing with the string of your dress nervously as they all said hello softly.

"how long have you been married?" bruce asked, slowly warming up to his captains wife.

"about five years. fury helped me set this up like he helped clint. didn't want her getting involved in the dangers of being married to an avenger. thats why I don't wear my ring around everyone" he said, answering the questions on everyones lips.

"it's nice to meet you" wanda said shyly, and you gave her an encouraging smile.

"why don't you guys go and get changed and bathed? there's three bathrooms in here and a wash room in the shed in case you don't want to wait" you said , going towards the oven to turn it off. "I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and i can have a cold jug of lemonade ready for you by the time you're done getting changed" you said, leaning down to make sure everything was done baking.

"where are my two troublemakers?" steve asked quietly, not wanting to spoil the biggest surprise of all. you smiled, pointing towards the staircase. "let me call them for you-" before you could finish, the thundering of footsteps became audible and you shared an amused glance with bucky.

"daddy!" two gleeful voices filled the air and two blue eyed, pigtailed figures came running into the kitchen, clad in denim dungarees and white shirts.

"hi my loves!" steve said, scooping both his daughters into his arms, laughing when they squealed and kissed his cheeks.

"we missed you!" the girl on the left said, burrowing into her dad. "so much!" the girl on the right completed, squishing his cheeks.

"guys, meet sarah marie rogers and stella jamie rogers" steve smiled proudly, to an awe struck group of avengers who had their jaws on the floor.

"you have children?!?!" natasha said, mouth agape as she stared at the twins in steve's arms. "actual puny little humans?" thor said, eyes as wide as saucers.

clint just laughed, waving to the little girls. stella buried her face in her dad's neck, clearly the more reserved of the two, while sarah waved brightly back at him.

"uncle bucky!" sarah exclaimed, reaching for the man who took her with a laugh, spinning her around. "hello little angel! I've missed you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair softly.

you watched your daughter's reuniting with their father, a soft smile on your face. how you had missed him!

"well, I guess captain america's got more than just his shield to protect now! who knew old cap could multitask? i wonder if he still gives the 'I can do this all day' speech during diaper changes." tony chimed in, smirking at steve.

you laughed at the comment, shaking his hand warmly. "yeah he does sometimes" you smirked, earning a look of betrayal from your husband while wanda and clint laughed.

"woah you're black widow!" sarah said, looking wide eyed at natasha. "you're my favourite avenger!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the assassin, who raised her hand up for a high five.

"whose your favourite?" clint asked stella, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

stella mumbled something softly, still holding on to her daddy. "tell him sweetie, thats hawkeye, remember i told you about him?" steve urged gently, softly pushing his daughter's long locks away from her eyes.

"my favourite is thor" she mumbled, eyes widening as she took in the asgardian. steve watched as the god visibly melted, a bright smile on his face as he strode over to the little girl.

"it appears that i am the mightiest avenger in the eyes of the smallest mortal! dear child k if you require any tips on wielding a tiny hammer or battling bedtime monsters, you know who to call. i humbly acclaim myself your immortal servant" he said seriously, holding out his large hand for a handshake.

stella just turned away, shy and flustered at the hulking avenger before saying a soft "okay" earning a laugh from bucky.

"she's just a kid thor" bruce said, looking up from the paintings around the room. "did you guys paint these?" he asked, looking in awe of the paintings. "daddy did some and we did some" sarah responded, still happily snuggled in her uncle's arms.

"wow" wanda said, examining one of a field of tulips. "which one of you painted this?" she asked, looking over at you. "me" a shy voice responded as stella spoke up. "oh you're so talented!" wanda said, voice still soft. she related to this quiet child, and felt an immediate connect with her.

"t-thank you" she said, offering her a sugar sweet smile. "do you want to see my other paintings and crafts?" she asked, slowly clambering off her dad's lap, and walking carefully over to the sokovian.

"I'd love that!" she said, leaning her hands towards the little girl, who took her hand in her own.

"uncle bucky, do you want to help me build my trampoline?" sarah asked, arms looped around his neck. "sure sweetheart, we can do that".

"darling, let's let them all get comfortable first okay?" you interrupted, smiling when your younger twin (sarah) came bounding over to you for a hug.

"okay mama, I'm gonna go and show stella and auntie wanda some of my drawings too!" she said and she was shooting off like lightning again, but not before hugging her dad's knees and saying "i love you daddy!" again to steve.

as the team dispersed to the various bathrooms, steve led you up to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.

"my sweet baby, I've missed you so much" he said, advancing towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging you close, forehead resting gently against yours.

"I've missed you more. are you okay? how come you're here?" you asked, brushing his sandy blonde locks away from his forehead.

his blue eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i-" his voice broke and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hearing him take a deep stuttering breath.

"there was this new hydra variant. some element of mind control. I saw you and the girls...lying here... cold and..." his voice broke and he pulled back, thumb grabbing your chin to yank you into a kiss.

he needed to feel you. to physically feel and make sure you were alive and right there with him.

"I'm right here steve, right here my darling. I'm okay, the girls are okay. and were all right here." you chanted like a mantra, stroking his hair.

he pulled you into a kiss again, messy, teeth and tongue clashing, hands roaming your waist, hips and finally resting in your hair and one hand on your waist.

"i love you" he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned back. "i love you more" you whispered back, slowly pushing him to sit down. "let's get you changed honey" you said, drawing a warm bath as you slipped into the bathroom.

steve took a deep breath.

it was all going to be okay.

he was finally home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : let me know if this should have more parts!! was thinking of one with multiple scenarios of them bonding together, explaining their names etc etc! let me know!! I'm always open to chat too xoxox

happy reading!! ♥️

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

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winterarmyy · 8 days ago

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I Knew It Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: If it was supposed to be a casual thing, then why does it hurts so much?

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.8k++

Warnings: angsty, maybe a tad too angst. a bit fluffy, if you search for it, and everything in between. non-descriptive sex scene but definitely contain adult (18+) contents. so, reader discretion.

Inspiration: @buck-star asked in a community post, “The sentence is: 'And then we were standing in front of one another again…' How would you continue it?” and this is my answer.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky adjusted the sleeves of his jacket; a dark leather, matching the gloves he was wearing. Underneath was a charcoal coloured shirt; his pants was dark-wash jeans, frayed slightly at the edges. It was an effort to blend into the festive sea of people. Despite the spring air of Central Park, his style remained a mixture of shadowed past and muted present, a mix that barely fit in with the brightness of the day.

The launch of the Avengers statues was a grand event; a reminder of battles fought, lives saved, a place for the public to show their gratitude and admiration. Honestly, in Bucky’s opinion, all of this was a little bit over the top. In which, Steve agreed. They both think that they were undeserving to be sculptured and displayed like this.

Even the Avengers are human, excluding Thor, they were mortals; unfit to be worshipped as they are now. Yet, after being coaxed with quite a diplomatic, exaggerating speech about how ‘the people need a hero to look up to’, Steve ended up convinced. Not that it matters, but Stark was the one who gave that speech.

Nonetheless, Bucky couldn’t really object to the decision, but he did stated that he will not participate in the event with the rest of the team. And they can’t really do much about that, forcing him to will be equivalent to kidnapping and Bucky had literally filed a police report for it before. So, they won’t take their chances.

The cheers and thundering of applause rippled through the park, filling every space with a strange blend of solemnity and celebration. Bucky lingered on the edge, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tensed beneath the weight of too many eyes while his own focused on his team on the make-shift stage near the statues.

He preferred it here. No red carpets. No standing in front of flashing cameras with a smile that would never sit quite right on his lips.

With less aliens around and Hydra in hiding, this should have been a familiar scene; the Avengers posing and the people cheering. But for Bucky, the novelty had long worn off. The noise washed over him like waves lapping against a shore he couldn’t care to meet.

Shifting on his feet, his fingers brushing against the worn leather of his gloves, as if the urge to retreat was creeping under his skin. The cheers, the bright flashes of cameras, all blended into a muffled hum that made him wonder how soon he could slip away unnoticed.

Until he saw her.

She stood beneath the shade of a blooming cherry tree, the soft pink petals floating down around her as if nature itself wanted to frame her as a living art.

Y/N.

Bucky's breath was caught somewhere between inhaling and exhaling. Her mere presence had left him frozen. Then, the noise of the crowd slowly fading, the applause turning duller as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat harder, louder, until it drowned out the world around him. For a few painful moments, he felt as if his heart might force its way free from his ribcage, breaking him apart in the process.

She wore that sundress again. The light fabric swayed gently with each breeze, caressing her figure, the pastel colour that reminded him of the flowers he used to get for her. It was the same dress she’d worn that day; the day he realised falling for her wasn't a choice but a reality that had already happened. He swallowed hard, memories surging in torrents. Her laughter echoed in his ears, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about things that mattered to her.

Now however, beneath the sweet sundress and that familiar grace, there was a darkness under her eyes. Shadows etched into her delicate skin, sadness lingering; still and silent, behind the gaze that once held nothing but warmth. Bucky's jaw tightened as he took it all in, every unspoken truth laid bare on her face. He knew why; he’d heard whispers through mutual acquaintances. About the heaviness she tried to mask, about the pain she tried to live through.

Seeing it now, in the flesh, was so much worse.

It broke him.

Again. His chest ached, a raw wound ripped within his chest; for every moment she suffered and every part of him that couldn’t fix it. Bucky wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was as if an invisible vine had him rooted on earth, willing him to witness the toll their separation had taken on her. How ironic, he thought bitterly. For someone once considered a ghost by the world, he was all too aware of how haunting it felt to see her pain in living colour.

The bar had been crowded that night when they met, laughter and music clashing together in a storm of contagious intoxication. Bucky found his usual spot in the corner, however unusually alone this time. His shoulders hunched beneath his leather jacket; his gloved hands nursed a drink he wasn’t truly interested in. He was simply another brooding man in a bar, trying to swallow his own bitterness, trying to forget. Elena’s words, his ex’s words, echoed in his mind; taunting and cold, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

“Mind if I sit?”

Her voice cut through the noise. He’d looked up, barely masking his surprise. The woman standing before him was... a force of nature. She didn’t wait for his permission and slid into the seat beside him, a confident smile tugging at her lips.

She was so bright, so unapologetically there.

It almost felt disorienting. Her eyes sparkled like she’d already decided he was interesting and wasn’t about to change her mind. “You always brood like this, or is it a special occasion?” she teased, tilting her head.

“Special occasion,” he replied dryly, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone. “Guess I’m lucky, huh?”

She laughed, loud and unfiltered, drawing curious looks. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, raising her glass to him as if they were old friends sharing a private joke.

Bucky fought to suppress the twitch of his lips. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. “What brings you to this fine establishment?” he asked, his voice flat but not harsh. “Looking to rescue sad souls like me?”

“Rescue?” She leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Please. I’m here for the entertainment value.”

“Brutal,” he said, but he couldn’t help it; the corner of his mouth lifted. A real smile was threatening to form.

Y/N, as she introduced herself a few moments later, was a whirlwind of honesty and charm. She spoke without hesitation, as if every thought had a right to be voiced. She teased him about the gloves he refused to take off, made a biting but hilarious comment about her friend’s taste in men as she watched her and the man grinding it on the dance floor, and then, out of nowhere, zeroed in on him.

She gestured to his drink. “Let me guess. Your ex. She, or he, I don’t judge…” A tiniest smile curved on the corner of his lips. “She.” he clarified which was replied with a glint of interest in Y/N’s eyes. She nodded, “Okay, she left you for someone who didn’t know how to brood so attractively.”

Bucky choked on his drink, laughter erupting before he could help himself. It was warm and a little bashful, completely genuine. He hadn’t laughed like that in... he couldn’t remember how long.

Y/N was not expecting much tonight. She was literally dragged by her friends to ’go out, meet people, get laid’. Truthfully, she wasn’t really expecting anything more than a few hours of banter and maybe some fleeting connection, just enough to make her smile. Witty remarks, a few drinks, teasing anyone interesting enough to engage; that was her aim.

But when she saw him, brooding in his corner, a storm trapped beneath layers of leather and cold eyes, curiosity overtook reason. She wanted to know if he would entertain her.

And he did.

Bucky or as he introduced himself, James, was sarcasm wrapped in shadows, his words carrying a sharpness that wasn’t meant to hurt, just to deflect. She found it oddly endearing, a defence mechanism she recognized all too well. She wanted to pull more from him, so she leaned in, laughed too loudly, pressed buttons she guessed would make him react.

At first, it was just fun.

But then he smiled. God, when he smiled, her world tilted; much against her will too. It was like the first hint of sunlight breaking through a dense, dark cloud. His laughter was warm and unpracticed, spilling out of him as if it surprised him too. The moment stretched, just for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

Her heart momentarily shuddered. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks, blooming a soft pink she couldn’t hide. So, she covered it with more wit, more charm, desperate to keep that smile there a second longer.

“I’m kidding. Kind of,” she said, eyes softening as she studied him. “But seriously, imagine missing out on you. That’s just sad at this point.”

But underneath the humour, there was a flutter of something much profound. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Her heartbeat raced and she felt exposed. How ridiculous, she thought, to be undone by a smile; a real one, genuine and imperfect, just as raw as her own attempt to draw it out.

The concept of time blurred after that. Drinks flowed, words tumbled out like secrets they didn’t know they were sharing. Banter turned into stories, laughter into pauses that spoke louder than the music blaring around them. At some point, she reached for his hand, not caring that it was gloved or why. Her fingers lingered, hesitant for half a breath, before resting there as if they’d been doing so for years.

The air thickened and inches shrink.

When he kissed her, she found herself kissing him back with a need she hadn’t recognized before. It wasn’t about filling the void; at least, not only that. It was about the way he leaned into her touch, how he kissed like it was the last act that could hold him together. It was raw and open and imperfect and she was high on it.

Despite the fleeting, breath-stealing kisses they shared prior, Bucky had only meant to see her safely to her home. That was the plan, the line he swore he wouldn’t cross. But when her lips met his again just outside her apartment, everything unravelled. Her kiss was insistent, needy in a way that mirrored the ache deep inside him. She pulled him in, the door closing behind them, shutting out the world and any remnants of restraint he had left.

They stumbled to the bed, still fully dressed, every touch and kiss growing more urgent. Her hands found the edges of his jacket, fingers seeking to peel it away. But when she tugged, he pulled back, his breaths ragged. “Wait,” he murmured, eyes cast down. His hesitation was a stark contrast to the flames between them moments before.

She paused immediately, her gaze softening. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, careful not to push too hard but unwilling to let him slip away either.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said, the words thick, heavy.

A crease formed between her brows. “What? Your name is not James?”

The question, so genuine and earnest, pulled a laugh from him; short, almost incredulous. “No. I am James, but…” He ran a gloved hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes.

“But��?” she prompted, leaning in, her attention unwavering.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” he said, each syllable weighted.

For a moment, she was silent. He could see her piecing it together, searching for the meaning behind his words. Then understanding dawned, slow and certain. “You’re…” she began, just as he said, “The Winter Soldier.” But what came from her lips was, “The Avenger.”

They stared at each other, the tension snapping into something fragile, almost surreal. “What?” they both said in unison, the word a mix of disbelief and irony.

The absurdity of it cracked something inside him, and he laughed; a real, deep laugh that felt like a release. She joined him, their laughter intertwining in a way that felt like a mutual understanding. At the moment, Bucky realised that she didn’t flinch or shrink back. She met him where he was, without hesitation. He felt a pull; unsettling but oddly comforting; and, for a split second, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be different.

The humour melted into something more intense as she leaned closer, her hands found his again. “I want this, James,” she whispered, peeling away his glove. She cupped his cool, metal hand, pressing his palm against her cheek. The contrast of warmth against vibranium made his chest tighten. “I want you.” she spoke almost breathlessly; her eyes gazed up at him with an endearing plea.

His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and something much softer, “I want you too,” he said, his voice low, unguarded.

They moved together, shedding barriers with every kiss and touch. When their clothes finally fell away, they explored each other with as much urgency and wonder. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, almost desperate. He wanted to memorise her reactions. He wanted to give as much as he could.

It was raw and consuming, a night spent discovering each other. There was nothing mechanical, nothing detached. For hours, it was just them, bodies moving in unison and their moans and groans of pleasure mingling in a symphony that can challenge a siren’s song.

He found himself lost in her, in the way her skin felt beneath his, in the way she moaned for him. He couldn’t hold back, not when she responded to him with such hunger, her body moving against his with a need that matched his own.

Every touch felt like a revelation, a new discovery, and he was pulled deeper into her, into the warmth and the rawness of the moment. It was as if time itself had stopped, and all that mattered was the heat of their connection.

When morning came, the light creeping in through the blinds, they lay bashfully, tangled in the sheets. For a few moments, there was only silence, a comfortable quiet punctuated by the slow return of reality. He turned to her, the words were heavy, he knew it, but he continued, “I’m not ready for… anything serious,” he admitted, hating the way it sounded, but knowing he owed her the truth.

She met his gaze, her expression soft and understanding. “That’s okay,” she said. “We don’t need to label it. It can be what it is.”

“Casual?” he asked, a hint of humour back in his voice.

She smiled, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “Casual.”

They both laughed, the sound soft and real. Whatever this was, for now, it was enough.

The next few months, their ��casual’ arrangement became something she thought about far too often and yet tried to pretend wasn’t pressing too deep. The sex was undeniably great, almost maddeningly so. It wasn’t just the way he touched her, though that alone was enough to steal her breath; the careful, deliberate caresses that made her feel cherished and desired all at once.

It was the way he explored her as if every inch of her, the weight of his attention, the way he moved with a mix of tenderness and hunger, as if he couldn’t decide whether to worship her or devour her. And maybe that was why it was so intoxicating; because she was falling for him, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

It wasn’t just the physical connection; it was everything in between. She fell for the way he could be painfully serious one moment and then crack the most unexpected joke, a hint of dry humour lighting up his eyes. She fell for the way he made sure her tea was always brewed just the way she liked, even though he claimed to be terrible at domestic things.

She fell for his unspoken kindness; the way he would slip a blanket over her when she fell asleep on the couch, or his habit of standing protectively between her and crowded places without even thinking about it. It was all so subtle, so Bucky, and it deteriorated her defences bit by bit.

And Bucky on the other hand, tried not to let himself be too vulnerable around her. But Y/N had a warmth that made it hard for him to stay closed off. She didn’t push; she was just; a steady, comforting presence that felt like safety. Sometimes, without meaning to, he’d spill pieces of himself.

Like the night he told her about Elena; the betrayal, the gaslighting on how she cheated on him because of him; it was his trauma and depression that had driven her away. As if she was trying to make it worse, as if she had a vendetta to isolate him from everyone else.

And Y/N had listened without judgement, her eyes soft with compassion. “That’s not on you,” she had whispered, her hand covering his. “She was the problem, not you.” When the weight of his past grew too heavy, she was there.

And when she opened up about her own scars; the ex who wouldn’t leave her alone, the fear that lingered in the shadows; Bucky listened, fierce protectiveness hardening his features. That night, instead of touching each other’s body, they caressed each other’s innermost scars. They’d talk late into the night; their words heavy, but never too much for the other to bear.

And ever since their dynamic was a shifting dance, effortlessly dirty and playful one minute, his lips teasing at her neck, their words to each other were dripping with sin. The next, they’d be soft and tender, his forehead pressed to hers as they simply breathed together. And then there were the quiet, deep moments; when silence spoke more than words, and they found comfort just in being close, in the simple act of not being alone.

It was everything, all tangled together, and it made it so easy, too damn easy, to fall in love with him. She knew she shouldn’t, but with Bucky, it felt inevitable.

Then, one in those blissful days, after another night of incredible sex, Bucky laid beside her, his chest still heavy with the aftermath of their intimacy. His eyes traced the soft curves of her form as she rested, her skin glowing in the dim light.

She looked almost ethereal; untouchable, like something too perfect for him. The weight of her presence next to him was both comforting and painful, tightening his chest with a longing he couldn’t name. Shifting slightly, he cleared his throat, his voice rough when he finally spoke, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I’m going back to Elena,” he confessed, the statement hanging heavily in the air.

For a moment, there was something in his eyes; a flicker of hesitation, of conflict, as if he desperately wanted to hold onto what they had, as if saying the words was a battle he was losing with every breath.

But whatever war raged within him never fully translated in the way she saw him. To Y/N, his words felt resolute, laced with a kind of tenderness that made it hurt even more. He seemed sorry; deeply, genuinely. But the weight of his decision pressed down between them, undeniable.

She went still for a moment and he could feel the tension radiating from her. The way her body seemed to freeze, her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t respond at first, her gaze distant, focusing somewhere far away as though she needed a moment to process. Bucky’s chest felt heavy with the weight of his own words, the urge to take them back gnawing at him.

Yet he kept his expression neutral, as if none of this hurt him. He needed to see this through, even if every second felt like he was tearing himself apart. “This…being here with you, touching you like this… this will be the last time,” he added, the sound of his voice was low but remained adamant.

Y/N had always known, somewhere deep down, that this day would come. They had both agreed that what they had was casual, temporary, nothing more than a passing thing. They had agreed their connection was fleeting; simply a series of borrowed moments. But even as she tried to convince herself it was fine, she knew better.

Nothing about what they shared was truly casual. They’d been there for each other in ways no one else had. When the world had been cruel to him, scrutinising him for his past as the Winter Soldier, she’d been his quiet strength, the one who never judged him, never flinched. And when her own demons resurfaced, casting shadows over her life; he’d been the one there, standing between her and her doom. He had been her rock, just as she had been his.

They were each other's strength, each other's solace.

'Has it ever really been casual?' But she couldn’t voice those thoughts. She wouldn’t burden him with her feelings when he already carried so much of his own. She wouldn’t beg for more than he could offer.

With a soft breath, she forced herself to smile, her fingers brushing over his cheek, committing every moment to memory before it slipped away. “Will this make you happy?” she asked, her voice steady, though pain lingered beneath the surface.

Bucky’s heart twisted, but he nodded, the lie coming too easily. “Yes,” he said, his voice lacking conviction even as he tried to seem sure. He averted his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t see past the facade.

Her smile wavered, but she fought to hold it in place. She wanted to show him that she was fine, that she wasn’t falling apart. But as she pressed her smile into place, a single tear slipped from her eye, tracing a quiet path down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but it was already there; a silent confession of the pain he couldn’t see.

“Then, I guess this is goodbye,” she whispered, barely audible.

She leaned in, her forehead resting against his, her breath warm against his lips. And then she kissed him; softly, deeply, as if it would be their last.

Because, in this moment, it felt like it was.

The days blurred into weeks, and then months, each one dragging by with a dull ache that Y/N couldn’t shake. She buried herself in work, refusing to let her mind linger on what she’d lost. When that wasn't enough, she picked up freelance gigs; anything that kept her mind too occupied even thought about pain and the aching emptiness Bucky’s absence had left behind.

It was easier that way; easier to drown in deadlines and endless to-do lists than to confront the hollowness. And through all this time, there were not a single call, or texts from Bucky. Just silence. Rationally, she knew it was for the best. He was a hero, after all; his life pulled him in a thousand different directions. And she told herself she was fine.

But late at night, when the world grew quiet, she could still feel it; the loss that crept into her bones and refused to let go. Most of the time, she'd catch herself staring at the ceiling, replaying the touch of his hand, the sound of his laughter, the way he had looked at her as if she were his whole world, even if just for a moment. She tried to shake it off, to convince herself that it was all just an illusion, but the hole in her chest ached too deeply to ignore.

Time passed. The headlines told of his deeds; how he saved countless lives, how the public finally began to accept him, to see him not just as a relic of violence and pain, but as a hero. She should’ve felt proud. Maybe, on some level, she did. But every article, every broadcast, every mention of him only twisted the knife deeper.

At times, she’d pause whatever she was doing when his name flashed across the screen. It was a reflex, a sudden, uncontrollable urge to reach for something she could never have. She’d feel her chest tighten, her emotions were a blend of pride and pain. Why did she feel like this, like she wasn’t needed, like she was somehow unwanted by the man who had once looked at her like she was everything?

Even then, she couldn’t help but feel proud. No matter how much it hurts, she was happy for him. She remembered the sleepless nights when his past came alive in nightmares; when he’d thrash and murmur apologies with a voice cracked by guilt. She could still feel the weight of him in her arms as he clung to her in the dark, his breath shuddering against her neck, whispering, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” The memory of it made her chest ache; the rawness of his pain had always cut her deep, but it had also made her want to be his safe place, his haven.

She thought of those nights often. The way he’d hold her as if she were a shield against the ghosts that hunted him, how he’d bury his face in her shoulder to block out the world’s judgement. She’d whispered reassurances, stroked his hair, and wished she could take away every ounce of his pain. Seeing him now, standing tall, saving lives, and slowly being accepted by the world; it filled her with a bittersweet pride.

He deserved every bit of recognition, every chance to rebuild himself.

But the cost of that pride was the deep loneliness that came with it; the reminder that he was out there saving the world while she was left to save herself from missing him. She wanted to be enough, to be the one he leaned on, but it was clear now that his path led somewhere she couldn’t follow. So she pushed forward, forced herself to be strong, and told herself that being happy for him was enough.

When the crowd at the Central Park continued to roar with excitement, time seemed like it stopped for Bucky and Y/N. And then they were standing in front of one another again, the air between them held a weight, as if every word left unspoken all those nights was pressing against the space between them. Bucky’s eyes flickered; momentarily shocked, yet he didn’t falter.

Even then, Y/N saw it. She saw the look in his eyes that she knew too well, the look he had when it was just them, wrapped up in stolen hours that no one knew about. She forced a smile, warm and soft, the very same that she used to give him in those silent times, when their skins were pressed against each other, and everything else didn't matter.

His heart ached with a need he thought he’d buried. He thought he had let her go. He kept telling himself he was not in love, that she was just someone to keep his bed warm, to fill the empty space his past had left behind. At least, that was what he told himself, over and over, like a mantra meant to dull the edges of the truth.

But deep down, he knew it was a lie; a desperate deception crafted to shield him from the vulnerability clawing at his walls. He was not fooling anyone, not himself at least. Each night he spent denying the way his pulse quickened at the thought of her touch, each time he claimed he felt nothing, the thin layer of defence cracked beneath the weight of untold longing. It was easier to lie, to pretend he didn’t care, than to face the reality that she had carved her place inside him, far deeper than he wanted to admit.

Now, seeing her again, smiling at him as if it didn't shatter her heart when he left, it was like he’d been hollowed out.

And the time that seemingly stopped, abruptly resumed to its pace when they walked past each other. No words crossed their lips, but their eyes spoke a language that was theirs alone; a language that carried echoes of every touch, every laugh, every shared moment.

‘I miss you,’ their gazes whispered, even as the distance between them widened with each step.

They kept walking.

That night, Bucky found himself in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, it was as if she was expecting someone. Not him, but someone. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him standing there, broad shoulders taut and expression unreadable.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The sight of her; dressed in a fitted dress that draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating every line and curve, stole the air from his lungs. It was the kind of dress she used to wear when they’d go out on a date, the kind that never failed to send his thoughts swirling in the gutter. No thoughts, just lust.

She looked stunning. Ethereal even. But, painfully out of reach.

Y/N blinked. Shock, confusion, and hurt flashing in her eyes, as if the memories of what they’d had; and how it ended, came crashing back all at once. “Hey… James. What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tight and Bucky was never used to it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to her lips and lingering there longer than he intended. “Out for a date?” he murmured, evading her question, the words tasting like lead.

“Yeah…Kind of.” she replied, guarded. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unsaid things. Finally, he spoke again, his voice a low rasp. “Can I come in?”

She studied him warily, the hurt in her eyes morphing into something sharper. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, James.”

“Please,” he said, and the desperation in his tone softened her resolve just enough. She stepped aside reluctantly. “You gotta be quick,” she said, almost dismissively. “Josh is on the way.”

The mention of another man’s name was like a knife twisting in his chest. Bucky forced himself to stay still, to not let his expression betray him, but inside, he felt raw, the bitterness coiling deep.

Once inside, she crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive barrier between them. “Talk,” she said flatly.

He paced, trying to find the words. “It wasn’t real,” he started, voice thick. “Me and Elena getting back together; it was a mission. She was suspected of being a mole.” he paused as he studied her reaction, ” We couldn’t risk telling you. We had to make it look real. ”

She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief, as if trying to grasp the whirlwind of his sudden appearance. “You’re here for that? To explain yourself?” There was incredulity in her voice, mingled with raw, exhausted pain that came from reopening old wounds.

“Yes.” Bucky’s voice was firm but edged with something close to desperation. “We managed to capture her.” He took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. “We had to keep the mission under wraps, Y/N. We couldn’t risk word getting out… not after what happened with S.H.I.E.L.D. We couldn’t have another Hydra situation, or anything that even looked like it.”

He paused, the tension in his jaw tightening. “It turns out her plan was to isolate me. To make me even more vulnerable than I already am, before they…” His words faltered, heavy and incomplete, as if finishing the sentence would make it all too real.

But he didn’t need to say more. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, the realisation clear in her expression. She was smart; too smart not to piece it together. She knew what Bucky feared most. He’d be dragged back into Hydra’s grasp, or worse, used as a pawn by some other twisted organisation.

It was a fate too cruel to name, and he could see in her eyes that she already understood.

Her brow furrowed, processing everything Bucky had explained thus far. A mixture of confusion and anger flitting across her features. “So that was it?” she demanded. “I was just collateral damage?”

“No,” he said quickly, the word breaking from him like a plea. “No. It wasn’t like that. I wanted to protect you. We all did.” He hesitated, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I did.”

She scoffed, a bitter edge cutting through her words. “Unbelievable. I smiled at you one time, James—one time—and you think you can just come back into my life like you own it?”

The accusation hung between them, and the depth of her frustration was like a dam bursting. He recoiled slightly, horrified by the thought that he’d hurt her so deeply. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not what this is. I didn’t want to just—”

She cut him off with a sharp, biting word. “Bullshit!” The accusation hit him like a physical blow, but he pressed on, desperation bleeding into his tone. “I just wanted to tell you the truth,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “That it was all fake.”

“Fake?” She echoed the word with a harsh, bitter laugh that rang with disbelief. It stung him, sharp as a slap across the face. “It looked pretty damn real to me, James. You don’t think I saw the pictures? The headlines? How you were with her?”

“It was a cover, Y/N. I didn’t have a choice.”

Her eyes flashed, anger and betrayal burning bright. She took a step toward him, as if the weight of her hurt couldn’t be contained. “You didn’t have a choice? You had a choice when you came to me, when you told me it was over. When you ripped my heart out, did you have a choice then?”

Bucky flinched, the impact of her words like a physical blow, but he held his ground. “I was trying to protect you.”

“By hurting me?” Her voice cracked, raw and trembling. “By tearing me apart?”

Silence crashed over them, heavy and suffocating. Her chest heaved, each breath ragged. “By leaving me behind?” she whispered, her words dripping with the weight of every unspoken wound. “By pretending like what we had meant nothing?”

He stepped closer, the space between them suffocating and electric. “It wasn’t nothing,” he said, his voice quivering. “It was everything. You were everything.”

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked. “I don’t believe you.”

With a trembling hand, Bucky reached for her face, cupping her cheeks as though she were something fragile. His thumb brushed away her tears, his touch reverent, aching. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed, the confession breaking through the dam of his restraint. “From the start, when we laughed about that ridiculous introduction; me, calling myself the Winter Soldier and you insisting I was an Avenger—I knew it then.”

He swallowed hard, blinking through tears. “But it wasn’t just that. It was how you saw me; not the killer, not the broken man, but me. The way you’d smile at me, like I was worth something. The nights you stayed awake, holding me when I couldn’t breathe, when the nightmares felt too real. The way you’d whisper that I wasn’t alone. No one ever did that for me. No one.”

He paused, the rawness in his expression deepening. “I knew it was too late when I realized I’d been in love with you for a while. It hit me that day at Sally’s, remember?” His voice grew softer, distant with memory. “It was spring. You wore that sundress you bragged about getting for next to nothing at a thrift store. The sunlight made your hair glow, and you laughed at something ridiculous; a dog chasing bubbles, I think. I couldn’t stop looking at you. It wasn’t just the dress or the moment. It was the way you made everything feel… lighter. Like I could breathe again. Like the past didn’t own me.”

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb tracing along her jawline. “I realized then that I was in deep. That it was more than just a moment. And it terrified me, because I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin you.” His voice cracked, weighted with a mix of love and regret.

His shoulders shook as he let out a ragged breath, the tears spilling over. “It’s the way you laugh, the way you fight for everyone you care about. How you make me feel like I’m more than my past… God, I tried so hard to keep you safe. Even if it meant pushing you away. But it killed me, Y/N. Every day.”

She stared at him, stunned and raw, her own tears falling. His hands cradled her face gently, his touch trembling. “I love you,” he said again, more desperately. “I love you for every moment you gave me hope when I thought I couldn’t be saved. I love you for being there, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

He leaned in, their faces inches apart, his tears mixing with hers as he whispered, “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her, feeling the sincerity in every broken syllable. For a heartbeat, it seemed she would turn away. But then, her voice cracked, trembling with everything she’d buried. “I love you too,” she breathed, voice shaking. “I never stopped.”

His forehead touched hers, their breaths mingling, raw and vulnerable. Slowly, their lips met, soft at first, then deeper, a kiss that spoke of everything they had denied and everything they still longed for. In each other’s touch, everything else faded, leaving only the truth between them.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: i was planning to do a descriptive smut scene at first, but after piecing everything from my draft and re-reading the overall flow, i don't think it's suitable to include it in this. perhaps another time, a side/extra story maybe. i hope y'all okay with that and enjoy your reading 🥺

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader smut #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #avenger!bucky

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wandascrush · 8 months ago

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Let the light in

Summary: The Avengers are separated after being hunted down and forced to live life on the low, causing a painful break up with the love of your life. What happens when she finds you again? Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

A/N: Based off of this request

Warnings: Angst, violence, loneliness, blood, breakup, team separated, depression, kissing, comfort

Song: Let the light in- Lana Del Rey

The team sat around the dark living room, the familiar voice of one of New York's most famous news anchors echoing in through the air, “Good evening New Yorkers, today we open our headline with some shocking news: Former Stark enterprise building, located on the upper east side, exploded earlier today by a missile attack on the Avengers. Sources say Tony Stark was currently using it to house new plans for an updated Avengers training arena and larger compound. Two architects, three investors, and one security manager was injured. Two of the victims later succumbed to their injuries after the explosion. Reports confirming the source of the violence are still unknown, however the Avengers were believed to have been inside the building at the time- hence the attack. The founding members of the Avengers Initiative such as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Y/N L/N, and Clint Barton have yet to speak out. This marks the second targeted attack on our world’s heroes in nearly a month since the Maximoff twins incident in Barbados, where Pietro Maximoff was nearly assassinated. It raises the question for us all: Are our heroes being hunted?”

The screen went black, bye bye news lady. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’re we gonna do Tony?” You got no answer.

“Cap?”

For the first time in the decade you’d known the team, (except for the Maximoffs & Peter) you saw uncertainty in all of their eyes. Tony threw his classic sunglasses on the couch, squeezing the middle of his nose in a useless attempt to massage an oncoming headache away, “Fury… thought it’d be wise if we split up for awhile-,” he was quickly shut up with protests from the group.

“It’s too dangerous. This isn't easy for me, but we're facing a threat that's beyond anything we've encountered before. I've crunched the numbers, run simulations – the Avengers need to disband temporarily. We scatter, go off the grid, and regroup when the dust settles.”

“This is bullshit, Tony. You know it is. This is exactly what they want-”

“Tasha,” your gentle touch on her back always softened her heart, but not today. She didn’t even look at you.

“It’s not the end, Nat. It’s like a strategic retreat. We're ensuring we'll live to fight another day. For once, I’m with Stark on this. We play it safe, keep low profiles, and spread out,” Steve sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a hard look at everyone, “we’re family, we keep each other safe. And this is how we do it.”

As much as the idea made your stomach churn, he was right. He always was. This was your family. Every holiday, happy memory, laugh and cry and battle and bruise was all with them. This team is how you met the love of your life. You loved each other, and if this is what needed to happen, then you’d do it.

But that didn’t sit well with your girlfriend.

“No, end of story. We’re not separating.”

“You know I don’t think it’s just you’re choice, Natasha. I mean we have to decide this together,” your fingers lightly brushed the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the soft sheets you had just bought.

“Exactly, and I. Said. No.” She was acting like a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat her veggies, crossing her arms and raising her voice an octave.

It was then when you saw something different in her eyes, those beautiful green orbs that held so much sadness and joy at the same time. But today they were cloudy, like a storm was brewing in her mind. You gently slipped off of the bed and stood in front of her, pressing your forehead to hers, “You know it’s going to be okay, right?” soft palms caressed the side of her cheek, immediately feeling her sigh into your touch. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” You wish your words were true.

Two months later the Avengers were spreading out all across the U.S., saying choked up goodbyes and packing your things. It was agreed upon that there’d be a team meeting once a month, every month, for the next year until you could figure out who the threat was, and how to eliminate them. You thought San Francisco sounded nice, fresh, and a little more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of New York. And it was, for a time. You got a haircut, dyed your gorgeous h/c locks to a rich h/c shade. You bought a sweet little home with a bay window over looking the Golden Gate Bridge, started building an in home gym and library, and kept an extremely low profile. You finished file work and other Avengers paperwork at home, with a high security grade laptop. Natasha on the other hand, refused to dye her hair, or keep a low profile. She didn’t want to admit that she was depressed, but it was glaringly oblivious. Being thrown out of her comforting routine put a wrench in Natasha’s life that not even you, her beautiful girl, could fix. All day she would do her paperwork, workout, and just keep to herself. It was like you weren’t even girlfriends anymore. Finally, in the fifth month of living “undercover,” she finally agreed to go on a low key date with you to a small, cozy bar on the outskirts of the city. You got dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever, did your makeup real pretty, and even did braids on Natasha’s silky hair. She looked happy, finally. Adorning a brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a low cut green top- her classic silver arrow necklace sitting pretty on her chest- your girlfriend looked like her old self again...absolutely perfect.

“You look gorgeous, baby,” swift arms swept you into a gentle kiss, smirking against your lips and pulling you close to her waist.

You thought that night would be perfect, but by 11 pm you two were home and icing her bloody knuckles, static tv voices echoing in the background. You felt hot tears rising to the surface, but you never let them fall. It’s not like you were just mad or angry or disappointed…no this was something more. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed by Natasha. You thought you’d never say that sentence, but then there you were, apologizing to the bartender for your girlfriend's rowdy behavior, and throwing $20 to the guy she completely knocked out before nearly carrying her out of the bar and into a cab. Within the next two weeks she packed her bags, and your home was changing once again, now empty.

8 months later

The team said that you’d only be separated for a year, or less, but you were coming up on a year pretty soon and none of you were any closer to figuring out who the threat is. But you, you moved on, strived forward, and kept going. Your breakup with Nat had been one of the most painful moments of your life, but you didn’t let it stop you. These days you hardly cried over her at all, never even thought of the old days. Well, except for last Tuesday, when you saw one of her old sweaters and lied in bed for the rest of the day, or on Thursday when you heard her favorite song and- well, never mind that. You were at the top of your fucking game.

Ms. Romanoff, on the other hand, had moved out of San Francisco completely and settled in Washington D.C. from the last you heard. She attended the monthly zooms, same as you, but you two never addressed one another. Natasha pushed all of the heartbreak she harbored deep, deep down until she would lie down for bed and reach out next to her…but you were never there.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers fic

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ughdontbeboring · 8 months ago

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only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach.

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago.

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard.

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight.

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?”

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock.

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room.

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember.

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him.

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs.

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan.

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock.

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand.

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy.

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his.

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again.

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him.

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully.

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again.

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade”

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly.

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt.

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room.

#thor #thor odinson #ughwrites #Ughthor #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor odison imagine #Chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth x reader

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frostdayz · 2 months ago

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Special day in Asgard

Loki x reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: After many days of not really having loki to yourself he plans a day of only you two.

warnings: nothing unless you hate fluff!

AN: Sweet and whipped Loki oh how I love you!!!!!! Hope you all enjoy, I loved writing this :)

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I stirred, blinking awake to the gentle warmth that kissed my skin. I could feel the cool sheets beside me and rolled over to find Loki, already awake, his piercing emerald eyes studying me with a soft, affectionate gaze.

“Good morning, my love,” he greeted, his voice smooth and soothing, like a quiet stream in the early morning light. His dark hair spilled over the pillows, framing his face in elegant disarray.

“Good morning,” I mumbled, still drowsy as I burrowed deeper into the blankets. “You’ve been watching me again.”

He chuckled, his deep, rich laughter reverberating in the stillness of the room. “How could I resist? You look so peaceful when you sleep. It’s a rare moment when I get to see you so at ease.”

I smiled sleepily, letting my eyes drift shut again. But before I could slip back into slumber, Loki shifted, leaning over me to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. His cool lips contrasted with the warmth of my skin, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“As much as I enjoy watching you sleep, I thought today we could do something different,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against my ear.

I opened one eye, peering at him suspiciously. “What kind of different?”

He grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. “No tricks, I promise. Just a day for us. No royal duties, no interruptions—just you and me.”

That got my attention. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I looked at him. “Really? You’re not being summoned by Odin, or Thor isn’t planning another one of his adventures?”

Loki shook his head, his expression softening. “No, not today. Today, I’m all yours.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I reached out to cup his cheek. “I like the sound of that.”

Loki’s eyes sparkled as he leaned into my touch before pulling away and sliding out of bed with effortless grace. “Then let’s start the day right, shall we?” He offered me his hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

We both got dressed, Loki in his usual dark green tunic that accentuated his lean figure, and I in a flowing Asgardian cloak he had gifted me not too long ago. As we left our chambers, Loki’s hand found mine again, his long fingers intertwining with mine as we made our way to the palace’s grand kitchen.

When we arrived, Loki waved away the palace staff with a gentle nod, insisting that today, we would be preparing our own meal. It was rare for royalty to step foot in the kitchen, but Loki relished the idea of doing something simple and domestic. I found it endearing—another glimpse of the man behind the mask of the trickster.

“What are we making?” I asked, eyeing the vast array of ingredients that lined the countertops.

Loki smirked as he waved his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, various ingredients floated toward us. “Something simple but delightful. How do you feel about pancakes?”

I raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping my lips. “Pancakes? That’s what you consider ‘delightful’?”

“Of course,” he replied with mock seriousness, his lips curving into a playful grin. “They are a delicacy in Midgard, are they not? And I’ve mastered the art of making them. You’ll see.” He joked.

Despite my skepticism, I watched as Loki set to work. True to his word, he moved with practiced ease, mixing flour, eggs, and milk with a fluid grace that only he could possess. I helped where I could, handing him ingredients and stirring the batter while sneaking glances at his concentrated expression.

Once the batter was ready, Loki heated the skillet with a flick of his wrist, and within moments, the rich aroma of cooking pancakes filled the kitchen. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me as I watched him work. This moment, this simple act of cooking together, felt so natural and yet so extraordinary at the same time.

Soon, we had a stack of golden pancakes sitting between us, topped with fresh fruit and drizzled with syrup Loki had conjured up from who knows where. We sat at the table, eating leisurely, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“These are really good,” I admitted after taking a bite. “You weren’t lying.”

Loki smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “I told you. I’m full of surprises.”

After breakfast, we left the kitchen and wandered through the grand halls of the palace. The towering columns and intricately carved walls were familiar to us both, but as we walked hand in hand, it felt like we were seeing them in a new light. Loki regaled me with stories of Asgard’s history, tales I’d heard dozens of times before but never tired of. He spoke of grand battles, ancient legends, and even the occasional prank he had pulled on Thor during their younger years.

“And then, of course, Thor fell for it,” Loki said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he recounted one of his many pranks. “He was always so eager to believe whatever I told him.”

I laughed, picturing Thor’s confused expression. “I can’t believe he didn’t catch on after the first few times.”

Loki shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s the beauty of it. Thor has a good heart, but he’s not always the most… observant.”

As we walked, our conversation flowed effortlessly, like a dance we had perfected over time. We told each other stories we had heard countless times before—tales of our lives, our adventures, and the moments that had brought us together. And yet, each retelling felt just as special as the first.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the palace, we found ourselves in the palace gardens. The air was cool, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the atmosphere as we walked along the stone paths, hand in hand.

“Let’s have dinner out here,” Loki suggested, glancing up at the sky as the first stars began to twinkle overhead. “Under the stars.”

I nodded, loving the idea. “That sounds perfect.”

With another flick of his wrist, Loki conjured a table set for two in the middle of the garden. Candles flickered in the gentle breeze, casting a soft, romantic glow over the scene. Plates of food appeared before us—an array of Asgardian delicacies that looked almost too beautiful to eat.

We sat down, the night air cool against our skin as we dined under the stars. It was quiet, peaceful, with only the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the palace in the background. Loki’s gaze never left mine as we ate, his eyes reflecting the light of the stars above us.

“You’ve made this day perfect,” I said softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Thank you.”

Loki’s expression softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. “You make every day worth living, my love. You are my greatest treasure.”

As the night wore on, we finished our meal and lingered in the garden, talking and laughing as the stars shone brightly above us. Eventually, the coolness of the night air drove us back inside, and we returned to our chambers, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

We undressed in comfortable silence, slipping into bed with the ease of two people who knew each other intimately. Loki pulled me into his arms, his cool skin a comforting contrast to the warmth of the blankets.

I nestled into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I don’t want this day to end,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

Loki pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, his voice low and soothing as he replied, “It doesn’t have to. We can have as many days like this as we want.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over me as I drifted off to sleep in Loki’s embrace. Today had been perfect—a day filled with love, laughter, and the quiet moments that made life so beautiful. And as I fell asleep, I knew that with Loki by my side, every day would be just as perfect as this one.

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talesofesther · 1 year ago

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what once was mine | ch 7

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: I apologize in advance lol.

Masterlist | Read ch 6 here

Your feet buried in the sand, just inches from the gentle waves crashing to shore. You could smell the salt in the air, feel it on your skin as the wind carried droplets of water until it reached you. The sun kissed the horizon of the ocean beside you, painting the waves in streaks golden.

This was possibly your favorite thing about New Asgard, the ocean.

Or, second favorite, you thought, as you squeezed the hand holding your own.

"And Thor wouldn't listen to me, of course," Loki continued the story, his feet burying in the sand just as yours did. One of his hands interlocked with yours, the other holding his shoes. "Not until the whole tent came crashing down on him."

You giggled, the soft wind carried your laughter and messed up your hair, "Thor never was the brightest at learning our 'contraptions', as he would call them."

"No, I guess not," Loki mused, a smile of his own lingering on his lips.

You looked up at him then, watching as the fading sunlight reflected against his bright eyes and shaped the curves of his smile. You'd never tire of the sight, of him by your side.

"You should come with us next time," Loki suggested, apparently just as lost in you as you were in him.

"Camping?" You raised a brow.

Loki nodded, stopping in his tracks. He dropped his shoes to the sand without a second thought, so he could take hold of both your hands. "You'd make it better."

His voice, however, began to sound far away. You frowned, looking around as the golden sunlight seeped away, making room for a grey and stormy sky. The wind picked up speed, cutting into your skin like needles. The sea, once calm and serene, now raged and thundered against the shoreline.

"You always do." Suddenly, Loki's voice was nothing but an echo.

You didn't have time to hold him tighter before his hands were snatched away from yours.

Stumbling forward, you tried running after him, but the sand began to swallow your feet. Panic settled into your chest and got your heart racing.

You looked up, but you shouldn't have.

His eyes were bloodshot, his feet held off the ground as he struggled against the bruising grip on his neck. When Loki looked into your eyes, tears were running down both your cheeks. Blood trailed down his mouth as he choked for a breath. "Run," it was a plea, so quiet and weak past his lips.

The last thing you heard was a sickening crack.

You woke up with a scream lingering on your lips, sitting up on your bed and already clawing at your chest for the air that you desperately needed yet couldn't get a hold of. You didn't know if you were sobbing or coughing, perhaps a bit of both.

The tears were non-stop, dripping down your chin and dampening the collar of your pajama shirt. You threw the covers away from your body, feeling trapped on your skin. Burying your head on your trembling hands, you did your best to try and catch your breath.

It had been a while since you've had a nightmare this haunting.

─── ·❆· ───

You felt numb. The day began and you couldn't feel anything besides the emptiness in your chest. Foolishly, you had thought you'd finally outgrew the bad memories, the grief. You wondered if you ever would.

As you walked through the hallways of the TVA, you thought back to yesterday; to the rain, the northern lights, and him. He who had those same dark curls, those same bright eyes, and alabaster skin that you saw in your dreams and nightmares. Each day it became harder and harder to believe the lie you insisted on telling yourself.

As if on cue, you heard the stomping of someone running to catch up with you.

"Good morning," Loki greeted, just a tad out of breath as he fell into step beside you.

You closed your eyes for a moment after hearing his voice. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you nodded without looking at him. "Morning."

Loki noticed, he felt the shift in the mood, heard it in your tone. You know he did, because he hesitated. "Um-" He tried to start; you could perfectly picture his eyes being unable to find a place to focus even if you weren't looking.

"I've been thinking," he tried again, and you could hear the tentative smile on his words, "For the next time you manage to borrow Mobius' tempad, I- I have a place I would like to show you, if you'd like."

There were tears brimming in your eyes. You weren't sure why. Maybe because this was such a Loki way for him to try and ask you out. Maybe because you could feel your heart melting for him as it found its home again after being in the cold for so long, and that terrified you.

"Yeah…" You cursed under your breath when your voice came out broken and strained. You cleared your throat. "I don't know when he'll let me borrow it again, so," you shrugged, quickening your steps, "I guess we'll see."

Loki fell behind just for the time it took for him to mull over your words. It didn't take much effort for him to match your pace again. "Yes, of course."

The sadness dripping from his voice made your heart clench. You didn't want to hurt him. But you didn't want to hurt yourself either.

Finally reaching your desk in your secluded nook of the library, you immediately busied yourself with threading over the fresh stack of documents resting on top of it. Pointedly avoiding Loki's concerned look.

"I can help you with those," Loki suggested, already reaching for a spare chair.

"You really don't have to," You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, turning on your table lamp.

"I want to," he told you with that softness reserved for you only. "We can finish it twice as fast and maybe stop for tea-"

"Loki, stop!" You suddenly snapped, finally turning to look at him. "Can you just leave me alone for one goddamn second?" You hadn't meant for your voice to come out as harsh as it did.

Loki lowered his head so you weren't able to see the pang of hurt in his eyes. His hand went limp as he slowly let go of the chair. Still, he took a step closer to you and asked; "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

Of course he would be able to tell. Of course he'd put your pain above his own.

You surrendered the facade with a sigh, and a single tear rolled down your cheek. "I keep seeing…" It was difficult to think of it, let alone say it. You closed your eyes. "The day I lost him, I- I keep seeing it over and over. Even after all this time."

You had gotten better, for a while, keeping busy in the TVA had somewhat helped. But you knew you only buried the feeling, never dealt with it. And then Loki—this Loki, the one who would be yours—found his way to you, and everything crumbled again. Those bright eyes of his were still the same you've always known, after all; and between the memories you had together that only you had lived, and the way his soul tangled with yours as if they never parted, you didn't know what to feel.

Your chin wobbled and a sob fell past your lips. "And I just want it to stop hurting… I just him back."

Seeing you like this, it hurt. Loki took half a step closer to you, his glassy eyes gauging every twitch of your muscles. If you told him to leave, he would, even if it's the last thing he wanted. Your pain pierced his soul like an arrow, tearing and making it bleed. More than anything, he found himself only wanting you to be okay.

No names were needed. Loki knew, just from the way you were adamantly refusing to look at him; he knew you were talking about… him.

Carefully, testing tentative waters, Loki reached for one of your hands. He held his breath when you tensed as his skin touched yours. His fingers closed gingerly around your wrist and he pulled your hand up with a gentleness he didn't know he was capable of.

You let him. You weren't sure why, but you did.

Loki brought your hand to rest above his chest, flat against his beating heart, and held it there, with his own hand still grasping yours tightly. He hesitated. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid of losing you.

Only when Loki opened his lips to speak, did he taste his own tears that had fallen. "I'm here." It was nothing but a breath. "I promise. I'm here." He tried, it was all he could give you; himself.

You clutched the fabric of his shirt, fingers shaking. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as another sob escaped you. As the waves pulled you under.

In a place out of time, time stood still. For a precious second, only you and him existed.

You looked up after what felt like an eternity, your lips hovering as you struggled to hold his gaze. "But you're not him." The half smile that stretched the tear tracks on your cheeks held nothing but sorrow.

As if ripping apart a piece of his soul, Loki reluctantly let go of your hand. "What is it you have against me?" He whispered, pleaded.

You'd never seen him this vulnerable. His ocean eyes glimmered under the dim artificial lights of the library, eyebrows pulled softly together in what looked more like loss than confusion.

"And what is it you have with me?" You found yourself whispering back, just as desperate. "For you, we never met." Your voice broke and then dripped with frustration, "You have nothing to lose. So what is it that you want from me?"

It was selfish to put the blame on him, just because he brought back the same warmth you've been missing for so long. But you were hurting, and broken things tend to have sharp edges.

Loki's lips hovered open and he shifted his gaze down, almost as if ashamed. He held the silence for a beat longer. "I guess I just…" He stopped, and forced himself to look into your eyes. "I saw how much you loved your Loki… I think I was jealous, and I was selfish, for wanting the same thing he was lucky enough to have." His smile was that of someone who knew when he'd lost. "You."

All emotion drained from your face. It felt like a bucket of icy water being dropped on top of you.

Had Loki actually fallen in love with you?

For a moment you wondered if, in every reality and every lifetime, you were destined to fall for each other. As the universe's own twisted version of soulmates.

You would've laughed at such a sweet thought, if it hadn't just made your heartbeat skyrocket. Because deep down, you knew you'd fallen for him as well. Again. As you always knew you would.

In every lifetime. As you promised you would.

And it terrified you, because what if you were destined to fall, yet also destined to lose?

"I'm sorry," you breathed, tasting the salt of your tears on your lips. You took staggered steps away from Loki. "I'm sorry, I- I can't."

I'm sorry, I don't know if I can pick myself back up if I ever lose you again. So I'd rather not have you at all.

"Please, I-" Loki started, yet he didn't know what he was pleading for.

But you shook your head vehemently. "I need," your voice stumbled, "I'm sorry- I just need a moment alone."

You turned around then, walking away and taking Loki's heart with you. His eyes refused to watch you leave again, luckily he had tears to blur the memory.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 8 here

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 4 months ago

Note

Hello my love could I please request Thor with “Vampires AU” please for your 6k celebration 💗🫶🏼

.⋆｡Blood Bag｡⋆.

Thor x plus size reader

You need a job and the ancient and powerful vampire on the edge of town needs blood, of course nothing could go wrong

Warnings: Vampire!AU, virgin!reader, lots of blood talk, age-gap (obvi), brief mentions of vamp!Loki and a different reader insert, flirting WC: 1.5k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, you thought as you looked up at the huge wrought iron gates that separated the old estate from the real world. The job listing had been simple; ‘Blood donations for vamp wanted. Virgin preferred. Guaranteed $5000 per feed.’ At first, you disregarded it, letting your gaze travel to the smattering of other postings on the site. But that number tugged at your mind well into the night, practically haunting your dreams until, in an act of temporary madness, you sprang up at three in the morning and filled out the application, sending it in before you could second guess yourself.

By the time you awoke several hours later, you had a nice fat contract sitting in your inbox and a request for a clean physical from your prospective employer. You hesitated to accept until you saw the upfront money you would receive before your first donation, it would easily cover your rent for the next two months.

So here you were, a paper with your clean bill of health in one hand and an overnight bag in the other, staring up at the biggest house you had ever seen in real life, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you would be a few quarts lighter. The gates creaked as they swung open for you and suddenly, you wondered if this was actually the beginning of some horror movie starring you as the gullible first victim.

Yet you stepped forwards anyway, following the long trail of your shadow up the drive. The gravel crunching under your feet quickly grounded you, it was well-known that vamps could literally smell fear and it would do you no good to sour your blood before your first meeting.

Only a few windows were illuminated as the sun dipped below the horizon, urging you to move faster and get in the house before night truly fell even if what was inside the manor could bring more danger than anything that roamed the grounds under the cover of darkness.

“You’re early.” Golden eyes gazed down at you from the now open front door.

“Jesus! Oh shit, sorry I should not have said that. I-“ The man smiled and stepped back from the entryway, gesturing for you to come in.

You stumbled into the huge foyer, the tension locking up your joints slowly loosening as the warmth of the home seeped into your body. “Do not fret, many of the stories you have been told are false. We are not harmed by any mere name so there is nothing to apologise for. Now, may I take your things? I will file away your physical in a lock box in the Master’s office. A room has already been prepared for your stay. I do apologise if the bedding is not to your liking, I fear it has been many centuries since anyone in this house has felt the need for sheets and pillows.”

The man, who you could now carefully observe in the soft light of the chandelier above you both, took your things from you before you could fully digest what he said. “How many people live here?” He danced at you with a soft smile, his lips pressed together so as to not reveal the deadly fangs that all of his kind possessed.

“Only four. We do have several maids that come in every few weeks but they don’t reside on the property. You will only be feeding one person, don’t worry. The Master’s younger brother lives in the West Wing along with his wife who provides the blood he needs.”

“And your Master?” The man’s golden eyes sparkled with something akin to affection as you walked alongside him, your footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent halls.

“You may call him Thor, he is a kind man. It was only at my suggestion that you were brought here, vampires can only live off of animal blood for so long before they need fresh human blood. The Master has spent the last 50 years refusing to harm a human in order to fulfil his baser instinct,” The grand staircase led you to a long hall of doors with intranet tapestries between them, “He has grown weak, he needs to properly feed. And now that humans have accepted vampires as a natural part of society, he was far more open to the idea than before.”

He stopped in front of the second to last door, gracefully pulling out a key to allow you entry. “Here is your room. I’ve left some toiletries and snacks out for you, please eat before and after the feeding but if you forget, I am sure the Master will remind you. If you need anything else, you can ring that bell,” he gestured to the pull cord in the corner of the room, “Or simply call my name and I will come.”

You nodded but as he turned to leave, you spat out, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Heimdall, miss.” The door clicked shut, leaving you alone once more.

Indeed there were snacks on the desk below the call bell, although it looked more like they were bought by an 8 year old who was just let loose in a candy shop with their parent’s credit card than anything else. But you supposed that ancient vampires didn’t really know how to food shop for humans. You picked out a packet of Twizzlers as you wandered further in, taking in the ornate bedroom that looked like it was pulled directly out of Pride and Prejudice. An ensuite connected to the room revealed a huge clawfoot tub (that you were shamelessly fantasising about using after meeting the man of the hour) and a large vanity with some fancy soaps by the sink.

“I hope you are pleased with your room?” A deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind you.

You whipped around in a panic only to be met with the sight of the most handsome man you had seen in your life. He stood well over six feet tall but the bulging muscles of his arms and legs made him look even bigger. His blond hair was cropped short, immediately drawing your gaze to the eyepatch over his right eye, though you quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude to the man. He tutted and gently guided you back to face him with a hooked finger under your soft chin.

“You are more beautiful than I thought you would be.” You faltered, and his blue eye shone.

“Oh um thank you.” The floorboards creaked under his weight as he stepped closer, letting his touch trail down from your jaw, stopping briefly on your neck before travelling down to your collarbone, his large thumb fitting perfectly in the divot of your throat. Your pulse grew stronger as you caught a flat of his fangs.

“You’re frightened, aren’t you little one?”

“No.” His plump lips curled up in a prideful smirk.

“Good girl.” Your chest seized. “Now, I believe we need to discuss your limits before you provide me with a meal.” Thor released his hold upon you but your skin still burned with his touch, urging you to chase the feeling once more yet you remained glued to the spot.

He turned to look at the pile of sweets that were left for you. “I wonder how sweet these will make you.” He muttered almost to himself.

“Do you want me to shower before you feed?” He hummed.

“I would prefer you not, strong scents tend to sour the blood.”

“And, do you um do you want to drink directly from me?” That earned you a deep rumbling groan from the man, his eyelid fluttering.

He seemed to lose himself for just a moment before his broad chest inflated and he faced you fully once more. “Only if you allow me to. If not, Heimdall has already prepared an IV.” Bashfully, you clasped your hands together.

“I’m scared of needles so I think directly would be fine.” He chuckled and gestured towards the huge bed in the centre of the room that had far too many pillows on it.

“Then shall we get started?” Your shoes skittered along the hardwood floor as you kicked them off before shedding your oversized sweater, revealing the very low-cut top you had picked out for today. Thor’s gaze burned into you as he hungrily traced your curves. “I seem to find it hard to believe that you are a virgin. You are ethereal, little one.”

Your lips parted but the only thing that escaped them was a squeak of surprise. “Oh I liked that sound, I think I need you to make it more often.” You ducked your head and climbed onto the mattress, Thor following closely behind. He knocked off a majority of the pillows, leaving only a couple on the left side of the bed. You kneeled next to him, your knees barely brushing his hip.

“Come closer, I cannot feed when you are so far away.” His hands grabbed your wide hips and pulled you onto his lap without so much as a breath of exertion. Your soft legs parted, allowing for his body to slip between them as he sat back upon the headboard, a dangerously pleased expression colouring his features. “There we go. Now, we stop whenever you feel uncomfortable.”

Your hands fell to his expansive shoulders, giving the muscles a soft squeeze. “Yes sir.” You answered in a daze.

Using his right hand, Thor tilted your head, exposing the delicate vein along your jugular. “Good girl.”

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beah388love · 6 months ago

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You get Lost…

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Daddy!Loki x Little!Reader

Summary: you get lost…

Warnings: crying,lost,swearing,bad language,dark room,age regression!!!(please tell me if I missed any!!!)

You was walking around the palace until you saw an entrance way you had never noticed before..

You walked through curiously and automatically got lost as you looked back and there was four other entrances.

You panicked and walked in a random direction hoping for the best.

You saw a door that looked familiar and pulled it open walking in, but when you saw it was an empty dark room you panicked and tried to leave but the door locked.

You panicked and began pulling down in the door repeatedly as you cried.

“No! Daddy?!” You screamed through a sob when you looked back at the pitch dark room.

You cornered yourself in the corner of the door and sobbed.

Trying to keep your eyes focused on the dark abyss but your tears kept blurring your vision.

“Daddy…” you choked through cries and held your heart when you began panting. You felt like you was about to have a panic attack.

You absolutely hated the dark it was one of your biggest fears.

You always slept with a nightlight or Loki would magic a soft light portray of sheep on the ceiling, as they were being counted to help you fall asleep.

So this was your worst nightmare.

———

“Where is my angel?” Loki asked one of the servants and he shook his head “I don’t know sir”

“I last saw her in the main hall” he said as he thought.

Loki nodded as he walked to the hall and looked around for you but you was nowhere to be found, he was starting to get worried.

Usually he would hear giggling or your little feet tapping on the ground but he heard nothing.

He looked around the whole palace and found nothing.

He was swearing to himself as he quickly walked through the same hall again and bumped into Thor.

“Loki..are you okay?” Thor asked when he saw lokis panicked face.

“I can’t find y/n! I’ve checked the whole palace!” Loki panicked as he ran his hand through his hair.

“I’ll help you” Thor said and they both looked around together until, Loki saw the storage room entrance and his eyes widened.

You had never been in there before…maybe you didn’t go in there?

He shook his head and walked in there anyway just in case.

And that’s when he heard it.

Your sobs.

“Fuck! Angel I’m coming!” Loki said loudly as he ran towards the door he could hear you from.

He tried to open the door but swore to himself when it didn’t open.

“Shit!” He swore as he let go of the handle

He used his magic to quickly form a key and unlocked the door, you sobbed as you looked up at him.

“Daddy!” You cried and he sighed in relief as he instantly wrapped his arms around you.

“Shh,shh…daddy’s here” he whispered into your ear softly as he stroked his hand up and down your back.

He took you out of the pitch black room and shut the door again.

“is dark-“ you cried into his neck and he kissed you on the head stroking your hair.

“It’s okay…it’s okay angel..it’s not dark anymore” Loki reassured you but you still cried, trying to catch your breath properly.

“I’m so sorry angel…” Loki said into your hair softly.

“It’s okay now…”

“No more dark” you said and he nodded

“No more dark” he repeated as your cries died down.

You hesitantly looked up from his shoulder at the light room.

You looked at him through your wet eyelashes.

Loki felt so bad when he saw your face fully.

Your cheeks and eyes were puffy from crying, eyelashes wet, eyes red and you had tear streaks down your face.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead “I’m so sorry angel..I’m so sorry” he whispered and you nodded

“I-is scary” you stammered and he nodded

“I know…you’re so brave..I’m sorry” he said and you nodded nuzzling your face back into his neck.

“Why was you down here angel?” Loki asked you and you pouted.

“Curious” you mumbled but he heard and he laughed.

“You’re my little trickster aren’t you?” He chuckled making you giggle with a nod.

“Loki? Did you find her?” Thor asked as he walked into the hall to see you in his arms on the floor.

“Is she okay?” He asked and Loki nodded.

Loki stood up with you, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you later…let’s go have some food” Loki said to Thor when he felt your stomach rumble.

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buckets-and-trees · 1 month ago

Text

Chosen, Part 6: Procession

Characters/Pairings: eventual Bucky x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader x Steve Rogers, Natasha x Steve, Thor Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Steve and Natasha have primed you, and now it's time for final preparations and then making your way to the event.

SERIES Content Warnings: SOFT!DARK STORY, cult themes, explicit smut, dubious consent and enthusiastic consent, veiled truths, gaslighting, sleeping drugs

CHAPTER Content Warnings: cult elements; explicit smut: touching, groping, kissing, couple having sex specifically to arouse you, edging, vaginal sex but not for you, teasing, vaginal fingering, grinding/humping, exhibitionism, dirty/provocative talk, orgasm denial

Notes: There's a little bit more than just smut this time, haha.

Previous: Preparation | Series List

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

"It's almost time,” Natasha affirms. “We need to get you dressed."

She sits up and slides gracefully off the bed.

You blink, trying to clear more the haze of arousal from your mind. "Dressed? But I thought..."

"The ritual has specific requirements," Steve explains, his deep voice sending another shiver through you. "What you wear is part of it."

There was no question in your mind that sexual acts - intercourse specifically, after their preparation of your body - would be part of the ritual, so you had assumed that meant nakedness for you. There’s some blessed relief that you will have at least some covering, even if it’s minimal – unlike the experience you just endured where you were the only one naked in the room.

Natasha smoothes out her dress, adjusts her hair, retouches her lipstick, and then looks at her watch. “We have just enough time, but we don’t want to keep our founder waiting,” she sayd as she moves towards the closet room.

At the mention of the founder, a shiver of anticipation - or is it fear? - runs through you. The reality of the situation you find yourself in seems like it can’t be real, and yet it is, and there’s a thread drawing you in, a thread that’s been there from the beginning and woven itself into you.

Steve helps you sit up, your body still trembling slightly from their ministrations. You feel almost boneless, weak with unfulfilled desire. As you swing your legs over the side of the bed, you're acutely aware of how open and sensitive you feel.

Natasha returns from the closet clutching a garment bag in one hand and a pair of leather sandals in the other.

"Stand up," Natasha instructs gently.

You obey, your legs a bit shaky. Steve's steady hand on your lower back helps you maintain your balance.

Natasha lays the garment bag across the foot of the bed. She unzips it to reveal a deep midnight blue chemise, the color so rich and dark it looks almost black. The silk fabric shimmers under the light, and intricate lace adorns the bustline and hem, adding a touch of decadence. Natasha slips it off the hanger and hands it to Steve. He helps you slip it on over your head, his hands grazing your sides, sending little tremors down your spine, every nerve ending in your body still sensitive and wanting.

The fabric is cool against your heated skin, so light it feels like you're wearing nothing at all. Delicate shoulder straps hold the neckline in place, revealing in a way that straddles the line between modest and salacious. The dress falls halfway down your thighs, but the high slits on each side reach to nearly the top of your hips. You can’t help but feel incredible in this somehow perfectly tailored piece, clinging to your curves in all the right places and draping gracefully over the imperfections you typically worry over.

If you were staying here in the bedroom, wearing this for only your partner (or in this case partners), you would feel gorgeous and unquestionably confident.

But the thought of wearing this in front of who knows how many others? Your pulse jumps.

Natasha didn’t retrieve underwear for you. You don’t question that the exclusion was intentional.

She takes your hand and leads you back over to stand next to the vanity. Steve follows right behind, shoes in hand, and kneels to help you slip your feet into the sandals while Natasha begins to touch you up. She takes you from looking completely wrecked to only slightly mussed. You’re sure that’s intentional, too. She applies a rich color to your lip, perfect for your skin tone.

Steve brings over one more item from the bag, a full-length cloak to match the chemise, and drapes it over your shoulders. He carefully ties it at the neck. Natasha then retrieves the flower crown made of Luna's Tears and places it on your head, making sure it sits just right.

You stand between Steve and Natasha, their reflections flanking yours in the mirror. The midnight blue cloak drapes to the floor, adding an air of mystery and elegance. The flower crown rests delicately on your head, the iridescent blue petals seeming to glow in the soft light of the room.

"Beautiful," Natasha murmurs, her hand resting on your lower back.

Steve nods in agreement, his blue eyes intense as they meet yours in the mirror. "Perfect," he adds, his deep voice sending a thrill down your spine.

You barely recognize yourself in the reflection. The woman staring back at you looks ethereal, alluring, and undeniably primed for something momentous. Your skin seems to glow, your eyes bright and intense. The contrast between your polished appearance and the aching, unfulfilled desire still thrumming through your body is stark.

Steve’s hand trails down your arm, sending goosebumps across your skin. "It's time," he says softly.

Natasha nods, moving to open the door. "We'll escort you to the ritual site."

Your heart races as you follow them out of the room and down the hallway. The sounds of the party below have faded, replaced by an eerie quiet. As you descend the grand staircase, you notice the mansion seems deserted.

They lead you through the back of the house and out onto the grounds, and you can hear the music and voices of the party again. The full moon hangs low and heavy in the sky, bathing everything in silvery light. The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers and something else - something heady and primal that makes your pulse quicken.

You walk in silence, but the party sounds grow as you progress. This path is nearly the same one you took in the daylight with Natasha, though that tour seems laughably long ago.

Steve and Natasha are holding hands as they walk ahead of you, and it’s so easy and natural between them it’s clear that it’s nothing new. They had given no hint of intimate involvement during the day, but it doesn’t surprise you now, given the time spent with them in your room. You’re not surprised but impressed by their professionalism and intrigued by what kind of relationship they have. But you will ask questions later. Sometimes you get chatty and ramble when your nervous, other times you grow quiet. In this case, it’s the latter, nerves mounting the closer you get to the gathering.

As you approach the event, the soft glow of lanterns illuminates the scene. The party is set in the garden the borders the hedge maze. Dozens and dozens of strings of twinkling lights are woven across the garden, creating a magical canopy overhead. The music, a haunting melody played by a double string quartet, seems to pulse in time with your heartbeat.

The three of you enter the clearing and a few heads turn in your direction. You feel their eyes on you, appraising and curious. There are soft murmurs and appreciative glances, but for the most part, the party continues uninterrupted. Your arrival was expected, anticipated.

Steve and Natasha lead you through the clusters of guests. The guests are an eclectic mix of people, all dressed in various shades of midnight blue and black. To your left, a group of women in flowing gowns adorned with constellations of sparkling crystals sway to the music, their movements fluid and hypnotic. Their faces are painted with swirling patterns of silver and gold that catch the moonlight, making them look otherworldly.

On your right, a man in an elaborate mask shaped like a raven's head is engaged in an animated conversation with a woman whose dress seems to be made entirely of peacock feathers. The feathers rustle softly as she moves, creating an illusion of constant motion.

You pass by a table laden with exotic fruits and delicacies. Your eyes dart from face to face, searching for the one you've yet to meet - James Barnes, the enigmatic founder. But he's nowhere to be seen among this gathering.

As you weave through the crowd, Steve's posture suddenly light shifts, more purposeful as he’s spotted whoever he was looking for. He guides you and Natasha towards a towering figure standing near the edge of the gathering. When you draw close enough, you realize it's Thor, the Nordic god of thunder himself. His golden hair is pulled back in intricate braids, and he's dressed in a midnight blue suit that seems to shimmer with an otherworldly energy. A cape of deep crimson drapes over one shoulder, the only red among those gathered.

Steve and Thor clasp forearms in greeting, their smiles warm and familiar. "Steven," Thor declares, his voice rich and resonant. "It's good to see you."

Thor's piercing blue eyes then land on you, and his smile widens. "Ah, and this must be the elim. I’ve been hearing the whispers from the others about you.”

You feel a flutter of nerves at Thor's words. The term "elim" is unfamiliar, but the way he says it makes it clear it refers to you and your role in tonight's events.

Natasha's hand rests reassuringly on your lower back as she addresses Thor. "Yes, this is her. We've been preparing her for the ritual."

Thor's gaze is intense as he looks you over, but there's also a warmth in his blue eyes that puts you slightly at ease. He takes your hand in his massive one, bowing slightly to brush his lips against your knuckles. "It is an honor to meet you, little one. You have been chosen for a great purpose."

Even though you’re unsure of that, you somehow manage a small smile, heart in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you reply, "Thank you."

You feel warmth creep up your cheeks as Thor's intense appraisal continues. His eyes linger on the flower crown adorning your head, and his smile deepens.

"The Luna's Tears suit you well," he says, his voice warm and approving. "They only shimmer for those who are worthy."

"Thor, we're honored you could join us tonight," Natasha says, her tone respectful but familiar.

Thor inclines his head slightly. "I wouldn't miss it. It's been far too long since I've attended one of James' rituals." His eyes twinkle with mischief as he adds, "And I must say, he's outdone himself this time."

You swallow hard, unsure if you should feel flattered or terrified by his words.

Thor finally releases your hand and looks between Steve and Natasha. "Is everything ready?" he asks.

Steve looks toward the entrance of the hedge maze and apparently finds what he’s looking for because he answers, “Yes. Let’s go.”

Thor pulls out a silver knife with a gleaming golden handle set with rubies and uses it to clink the glass in his hands, calling for everyone’s attention. A hush immediately falls over the gathering. The music fades away, replaced by an expectant silence. You feel the energy in the air shift, becoming charged with anticipation.

A sudden gust of wind whips through the grounds, causing the trees to rustle.

"The time has come," Thor announces.

Thor begins to stride toward the hedge maze. Your heart races as Steve and Natasha each take one of your arms, gently guiding you through the parting crowd.

As you move through the garden, you notice a path has formed, lined with guests holding glowing orbs of soft blue light. The orbs pulse gently, like heartbeats, casting an ethereal glow over the proceedings.

Once you reach the entrance to the maze, Thor stops and turns around, and the three of you stop as well.

“The full moon is nearing its ascent to its highest point. We now send the elim and her guardians through the labyrinth for ritual presentation, and all those who gather here are invited to follow in that procession to pay respect and witness the might and wonder of him who fell.”

You stiffen at his words, and Natasha’s eyes dart to your face, registering the resurgence of your reticence. Steve touches your arm, trying to calm you. Thor holds out an orb for your party.

Steve takes the glowing orb from Thor, its soft blue light illuminating his chiseled features. He nods to Natasha, and they gently guide you forward into the entrance of the maze. The hedges loom high on either side, their leaves rustling softly in the night breeze. The path before you is narrow, barely wide enough for the three of you to walk abreast.

As you take your first steps into the maze, you’re enveloped in a different kind of quiet, an eerie silence broken only by the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet and the rustling of clothing as the three of you move. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and moonflowers wafts around you, intoxicatingly sweet.

The maze seems to come alive as you progress deeper. Fireflies dance among the hedges, their gentle glow adding to the otherworldly atmosphere. The maze twists and turns, each corner revealing new wonders as you move through it, the hedges rustling and whispering secrets you can't quite understand. You feel as though you're walking further and further from reality into a mystical space carved out of time. With each step, you feel a strange energy building, as if the very air is charged with anticipation.

It’s only when Steve and Natasha guide you around a corner only to be met with a wall of hedge that you realize their knowledge of the pathways is impressive since you had not hit any dead ends up until that moment.

And yet as they both stop and release your arms, you sense this is no mistake.

“We’ll wait here until the procession goes past,” Steve explains. “You enter the maze first, but you arrive at the ceremony last.”

“How are you feeling?” Natasha asks, studying your face in the faint luminescence from the orb as Steve pitches it on its spike into the ground.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The question feels loaded, impossible to answer fully. Your emotions are a swirling tempest of fear, anticipation, lingering arousal, and something else you can't quite name.

"I'm... overwhelmed," you admit softly. "Everything feels surreal, like a dream I can't wake up from."

Natasha nods, her hand coming to rest on your cheek. "That's normal," she assures you. "The first time is always intense."

Steve steps closer, his presence both comforting and intimidating. "Remember," he says, his voice low and soothing, "you were chosen for a reason."

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Their words calm you slightly, but your heart still races.

The sound of approaching footsteps and hushed voices reaches your ears. The procession is getting closer.

Natasha's hand moves to your neck, her thumb tracing soothing circles over your pulse point. "Breathe," she murmurs.

The approaching footsteps grow louder, and you can make out snippets of hushed conversation as the procession starts to pass by your hidden alcove. The soft glow of the orbs they carry casts dancing shadows on the hedge walls.

Steve steps closer and lifts your chin to look into his eyes. “Don’t focus on them.”

“She’s getting worked up,” Natasha says, a frown on her face.

It only jars you further. “What am I supposed to focus on?” you hiss.

Steve's eyes lock with yours, intense and unwavering. "Focus on us," he says softly. "On what we did. How we made you feel."

Natasha's hand slides down your neck to your collarbone, her touch feather-light. "Remember how it felt when we touched you," she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear. "How your body responded to us."

Their words and touches send a shiver through you, reigniting the embers of arousal that had been smoldering since your time in the bedroom. Steve's hand cups your face, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. Natasha's fingers dance along your clavicle then dip beneath the neckline of your chemise.

"That's it," Steve encourages as your breathing quickens. "Let yourself feel it again."

Natasha's free hand slides down your side, coming to rest on your hip. She squeezes gently, the pressure grounding and thrilling you. Steve kisses you for a brief moment, and your eyes slip closed. His tongue teases the seam of your lips, and you open for him. He licks into your mouth and draws a moan from you, but then he’s turning your chin and Natasha’s lips take over, continuing the kiss.

The sounds of the procession begin to fade into the background as you lose yourself in the sensations Steve and Natasha are creating. Their hands roam your body, reawakening the desire they had stoked earlier. Natasha's lips move from your mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point. Steve's large hand cups your breast through the thin fabric of your chemise, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

You gasp, arching into their touches. The fear and anxiety that had been building dissipates, replaced by a heady mix of arousal and anticipation. Your body thrums with renewed need, the ache between your thighs intensifying.

"That's it," Steve murmurs, his voice low and husky.

Natasha's hand slips beneath the high slit of your dress, her fingers tracing teasing patterns on your inner thigh. You shiver at her touch, your breath coming in short gasps.

Steve's lips replace Natasha's on your neck, his beard scraping deliciously against your sensitive skin. His hand moves from your breast to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his arousal pressing against your hip, and it sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

"Remember how it felt when we opened you up," Natasha whispers, her fingers inching higher. "How desperate you were for more."

You whimper softly, your hips rocking involuntarily, seeking friction. Steve's hand slides down to cup your ass, squeezing firmly.

"Just like that," he encourages. "Let yourself want it. Crave it.”

Then he’s withdrawing and Natasha moves in, pressing deliciously into you, cupping your face in her hands, and re-capturing your lips in fiery kisses.

The thin silks of your chemise and her dress leave very little barrier between your chests, and the way your breasts press together is tantalizing, and you clutch at her shoulders.

When she throws her head back and groans, breaking off your kiss, your eyes flutter open slowly at first, then widen as you register why she’s had such a strong reaction.

Natasha's moan of pleasure rings in the small alcove as Steve presses up behind her, his large hands gripping her hips. You watch, transfixed, as Steve slowly pushes into her from behind, his muscular body caging both of you against the hedge. Natasha's silk dress is bunched around her waist, leaving her lower half exposed.

Steve's eyes lock with yours over Natasha's shoulder, dark with desire. He begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust pushes Natasha further against you, her breasts pressing into yours through the thin fabric of your chemise and her dress.

Natasha's hands move down to clutch at your hips, her nails digging in slightly as she braces herself. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps against your neck. You can feel the vibrations of her soft moans against your belly. Then Steve’s hands join hers on your hips, and they’re both holding you while he fucks her, the grinding and friction maddening.

Your body thrums with renewed arousal as you watch Steve and Natasha, feeling the echoes of their pleasure through their shared contact with you.

Natasha's lips find yours again, her kiss hungry and demanding. You taste her soft moans as Steve's thrusts grow more forceful. His large hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you closer, sandwiching Natasha between your bodies.

"Please," you whimper against Natasha's mouth, unclear yourself of what would truly satisfy you. Release? To join them fully? For this exquisite torture to never end?

Steve's deep chuckle sends shivers down your spine. "Not yet," he growls, his voice rough with exertion.

Natasha’s lips leave yours abruptly, but it’s clearly to keep control as Steve continues fucking her, curling her head into the crook of your neck, panting and moaning as Steve picks up the tempo of his thrusts.

Once she seems to harness the moment again, her lips trail along your jaw to your ear. "Remember how it felt when Steve's fingers were inside you," she whispers, her breath hot against your skin. "How full you were, how desperately you wanted more."

You whimper at her words, fingers curling against the two lovers in front of you.

“You want to be filled, don’t you?” she taunts, and you gasp as her fingers slip inside you.

Her head is still nestled against your neck, her hot breath tickling your skin.

“You want to explode with pleasure,” she continues, her voice husky and raw with desire.

You nod eagerly, craving any kind of relief.

Her fingers slip inside your slick channel and don’t thrust, but she curls them against the spot at the front of your walls that makes you keen, stroking in time with Steve’s thrusts. Steve has hands on both of you now, one on Natasha’s hip as he continues to fuck her from behind, the other on your waist as he guides you impossibly closer.

“How wet is she?” he asks Natasha, though his eyes are locked on yours.

“She’s dripping and desperate,” she murmurs against your neck, then presses an open-mouthed kiss there.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you can only clutch at Natasha’s waist, at Steve’s forearm, legs unsteady, as the elements - their words, her fingers, his grip, the forceful rocking of her body against yours, her lips, his eyes on you - pitch you higher and higher.

“You’re ready to experience the satisfaction of becoming one with a mate, aren’t you?” she whispers.

You stop breathing at those words.

Mate?

They’ve said nothing about mates.

Your eyes tear up at the assertion, and you stiffen, heart constricting.

But instantly Natasha throws her head back in a silent scream, shuddering in the ecstasy of her orgasm. It’s good that you aren’t expected to move, because you can’t, still reeling from her last statement. But you’re not wholly unaffected as you watch her come apart for Steve. He holds her hips with both hands now and ruts furiously into her, biting against her shoulder as he cums with a groan. You swear they seem to glow in their orgasmic state, but your own sight is tinged with so much desperate haze, you’re sure it’s only a trick of the moonlight.

They indulge for another moment in the wake of each other, but then they are quick to recompose themselves, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your cunt, Steve thumbing away a tear from your cheek that you didn’t know had escaped.

As Steve and Natasha readjust their clothing, you stand there trembling, overwhelmed by what you've just witnessed and experienced. Your body still thrums with unfulfilled desire as your mind races with questions and uncertainties.

Natasha notices your trembling even before you do. She reaches out, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Shh, it's alright," she soothes, her thumb brushing away another tear.

Steve steps closer, his large hand coming to rest on your lower back. "The wait is over," he says softly, his deep voice rumbling through you. "It's time."

Steve retrieves the delicate glass orb, and then they guide you forward, out of the alcove and back onto the main path of the maze. Steve and Natasha flank you on either side, their presence the one constant in all of this, though it’s been both comforting and disconcerting. The air feels different now, charged with an energy that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The scent of night-blooming flowers is ever-present. Your heart races as you take in the subtle changes around you. The hedges seem taller, more imposing. The path stretches before you, lit by the soft glow of scattered orbs.

The sound of humming grows with each step that brings you closer. As you round the final corner of the maze, a clearing comes into view. The space is circular, enclosed by towering hedges that seem to reach towards the starry sky. In the center stands a large stone altar, bathed in moonlight.

Surrounding the altar are dozens of people, all dressed in shades of midnight blue and black. They form a tight circle, standing shoulder to shoulder, all their faces now hidden behind ornate masks.

Your heart races as Steve and Natasha guide you towards the altar. With each step, the inevitability of what’s coming presses in around you, though you still have so little of the scope of what to expect. All eyes are on you.

NEXT PART: OFFERING

Well... I told you there was a little more than just smut this chapter, but *wipes brow* I don't know about you, but I'm a bit 🥴 after the way Steve and Natasha just

well

yeah

*takes a cold shower*

SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!

#steve rogers smut #natasha romanoff #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff smut #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #curvy reader #aspen wrote something #chosen au

100 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 1 year ago

Text

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else… If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 7 months ago

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A Pet's Punishment | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki x Reader | Drabble 500 words

Loki likes to tease you while you work, but you know the reward will always be worth the wait.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, sex magic, orgasm control, d/s relationship, Dom!Loki, public-ish sex, chair sex, p in v. S for SMUTTY

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki Masterlist

You pressed your knees harder together as you paused in the long corridor. For the last hour Loki had been using his magic to tease and torment you while you finished your days work. Making you fall to your knees with pleasure while you carried linens, groaning into your darning and thrashing quietly in a dark corner when it got too much.

Each time his voice would sound in your ear and tell you not to release. Under no circumstances were you to orgasm yet. You had to hold it.

Now that your day was done you hurried faster to your Prince's chambers, thrumming with need and desperate for sweet painful release bursting through the doors and falling to your knees on the rug by the fire at Loki's feet without evening looking at your surroundings.

"Now, Pet, please be a quiet, don't ruin this just because I have company," Loki raised his eyebrow and inclined his head towards Prince Thor in the chair next to him.

Thor, to his credit, averted his gaze and suggested that he should leave but Loki stilled him with one hand and coaxed you closer with the other until your body was leaning against his thigh, your head in his lap hiding your embrassment.

"Brother, we should finalise our plans," his voice was rich and velvety, your senses heightened, nerve endings on fire as his words washed over you. Squirming desperately you pressed against him again, hoping he could feel how wet and needy you were through your silk knickers and his heavy trousers.

Instead he placed his palm on top of your head, stroking absently at your hair, the shell of your ear and down your bare neck.

You could see and feel both of his hands so when you felt warm, searching fingers on your thighs you gasped in shock. As proof that he hasn't moved he slipped a finger into your open mouth for you to suck.

The phantom fingers continued their exploration, stroking gently over your clit, opening you slowly under their invisible ministrations. You moaned around Loki's finger, nipping at the pad gently to get his attention.

He glanced down only briefly and shook his head sharply.

No.

But you couldn't help it, you bit again, eyes pleading, thighs squeezed tight.

"Puh- puh-" you stuttered, hoping he'd understand. And he did.

"I think that concludes our plans, Thor, I'll see you at dinner?"

"We'll see," Thor called back as he strode out of the room leaving the air quiet and empty.

"Pet, you've been so good, do you think you can wait a few more minutes?"

"I- Master!?" You wailed, the fingers delving deeper, pressing intently against your fluttering walls.

"I understand," the sensation vanished along with Loki's clothing, his own arousal evident just inches from your drooling mouth. You licked, without permission, at the bead of precum charting it's way down the thick vein of his shaft, "don't be naughty when you've been so well behaved," he chided, reaching to lift you into his lap.

Shuffling your knees you hovered above him, the soft pink head spliting you open, "sit down, Pet." He demaned and you did, falling flush against him, filled in one smooth movement. You clenched but try to stay calm with a lung full of air.

"Well done, Pet. Cum for me."

#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki AU #Loki smut #loki fic #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x female reader #loki/female reader #Dom!Loki

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divine-knight-hand · 10 months ago

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Being Followed

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You aren’t the only one in the castle gardens, it would seem…

Content Warnings: Fluff, a little spiciness, and snake Loki!!!

Notes: I don't know why, but I had snake Loki on the brain today, so I wanted to do something about that.

Word Count: 637

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The palace gardens were quiet. It was a comfortable silence. I strolled along, bathing in the warmth of the golden light from the setting sun. The fresh air went in through my nose, and out through my slightly parted mouth. Refreshing.

A faint hiss snapped me out of my trance-like state, and I frantically searched my surroundings for the creature it emanated from. As I spun in a wild circle, I caught it in the corner of my eye. A small green tail retreating into a nearby bush.

Relief washed over me as I let out a breathy laugh. “You startled me!”

I got another hiss in response, this time accompanied by the small rustling of branches.

I rolled my eyes, bringing my hands to my hips. “Are you looking to trick your brother with this form again? You know he hates that.”

A small green head poked out of the bush, darting its tongue out as its small black eyes blinked at me, feigning innocence. I knew better than to trust that.

I crouched down, reaching my hand out to the small creature. “Come on. The sun is setting, and I would prefer if my night was spent with you, rather than waiting for you to finish your shenanigans.”

The snake let out another hiss as it began to slither up my arm, and I slowly stood up, making sure it had time to settle itself on my shoulders.

“That’s better.” I let out a small sigh as the snake touched its scaly cheek to mine.

The sunlight retreated as the sky continued to darken, and I began to make my way back towards the castle.

“How long do you plan on staying like that?” I asked the snake on my shoulders, earning confused and frightened looks from nearby servants as I crossed the threshold into the palace. “I can’t exactly bed a slithering reptile, now can I?”

You tempt me, darling. Loki’s voice found its way into my mind as the snake hissed aloud by my ear. Trust me, it won’t be for much longer now.

I reached up to pet the snake’s scales, and it closed its eyes in a satisfied hiss as I softly stroked its head. “I apologize to have foiled your little prank for your brother. I suppose I’m just feeling a little needier than most days.”

Loki’s soft chuckle sounded in my head before I heard his voice again. Oh, darling. I was never waiting for Thor.

I turned my gaze to eye the snake as it cocked its head at me, blinking with that same feigned innocence again.

A smirk tugged at my lips as the realization of what he meant dawned on me. “How long have you been stalking me like this?”

Stalk you? Loki sounded playfully offended. I would never. I simply followed you at a respectable distance. Nothing more.

I snorted as I opened the door to our shared bedroom. “Sure, Loki. Sure…”

Would you prefer it if I stalked you? Loki mused as we stepped inside. Hunting you like prey? A dark chuckle echoed in my mind. Oh, the things I would do once I finally caught you…

I felt warmth creeping into my cheeks as a pang of desire hit me. “Maybe don’t tease me while you’re covered in scales.”

My apologies, darling. I felt the small weight of the snake drop off of my shoulders before a flash of green shone behind me.

Then, a hand on my shoulder coaxed me to turn and meet the face of my lover before he pulled my body closer to his. “Is that better?”

His now soft face was just inches from mine, our breaths intermingling between us, and I cupped it in my hands.

“Much better.” I breathed before closing the gap to kiss him.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki #loki fanfiction #mcu loki #loki mcu #loki imagine #loki x y/n #loki odinson #marvel loki #loki marvel #loki fic #loki god of mischief

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princesskenny1998 · 25 days ago

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Big Mouth | Judd Birch x female!preppy!reader ~ Babysitter, PT.1

It was a breezy Saturday afternoon, and you were babysitting Nick Birch and his best friend Andrew Glouberman at the Birch residence. You had done this a few times before, and each time, it had been pretty uneventful. Nick and Andrew were quirky, sure, but babysitting them was easy enough. The Birches paid well, and their house was a nice place to hang out—large, clean, and quiet, except for the occasional outburst from Nick and Andrew about some ridiculous debate they were having.

You were sitting in the living room, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine as the two boys argued over which superhero would win in a fight—Superman or Thor. Their bickering was loud but not unexpected, so you just tuned them out and nodded along whenever one of them tried to pull you into the conversation. After all, it was just another typical babysitting job.

Until it wasn’t.

You heard the front door open with a soft click, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. You didn’t think much of it at first—Nick’s parents sometimes came home early, or maybe it was just Nick’s older sister, Leah, back from her day out. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Judd Birch.

You had heard about him before—Nick had mentioned him a few times in passing, describing him as a bit of a loner, someone who kept to himself and had a darker edge. But you’d never seen him in person, never really thought about him at all.

That changed the moment you laid eyes on him.

He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an air of casual indifference. Tall, dark hair that looked like it had been hastily tousled, a leather jacket thrown on like he hadn’t given it a second thought. He had a smirk that screamed trouble, and his eyes—sharp and dark—seemed to pierce right through you.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

Your Hormone Monstress, who had been lying dormant until now, suddenly stirred to life. "Oh my God," she purred in your ear, her voice low and sultry. "Would you look at him? What a man! Forget babysitting, sweetheart, we’ve got ourselves a real treat right here."

You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure. Judd’s gaze flickered over to you for a split second, his expression unreadable, before he turned away and disappeared down the hallway without a word.

But that was all it took. One look, one fleeting glance, and you were completely hooked.

You tried to focus on Nick and Andrew, who were still in the middle of their superhero debate, oblivious to the internal chaos you were experiencing. But it was impossible to concentrate. Your heart was racing, your mind was swirling with thoughts you couldn’t quite control, and your Hormone Monstress wasn’t helping.

"*He’s so brooding," she sighed dreamily. "You’ve gotta get him alone, doll. Just imagine what he’d be like…"

You blinked, shaking your head as if that would help clear the thoughts. "Stop it," you muttered under your breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. You couldn’t believe you were getting all worked up over some guy you barely knew—Nick Birch’s brother, no less.

But your Hormone Monstress wasn’t having it. "Oh, honey, this is no ordinary crush. This is destiny. You need to get to know him. Now."

You sighed, knowing that there was no reasoning with her when she got like this. But honestly? You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to reason with her. Because the truth was, Judd Birch was… different. He wasn’t like the boys you normally hung around, the preppy, clean-cut guys who always seemed so safe, so predictable. Judd was a mystery, and you couldn’t help but want to unravel it.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on, with Nick and Andrew eventually settling into their usual routine of playing video games and trading awkward jokes. But your mind was elsewhere. Every few minutes, you found yourself glancing toward the hallway, wondering if Judd would reappear. Wondering if he had noticed you at all, the way you had definitely noticed him.

Finally, when the boys were thoroughly engrossed in their game, you decided to take a walk around the house—under the guise of checking on things, of course. You wandered down the hall, trying to act casual, but your pulse quickened with each step.

You weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Maybe to bump into him again, maybe to exchange a few words—anything to break the strange tension that had been building inside you since he first walked in.

As you passed by the open door to one of the back rooms, you froze. There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing something on his leather jacket. His back was to you, but you could still feel the pull, that strange magnetic energy that seemed to surround him.

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not you should say something. Your Hormone Monstress was already screaming in your ear. "Go in there, babe! Now’s your chance! Ask him for help with something, anything. Just get him to look at you."

You swallowed, your palms suddenly sweaty, and before you could second-guess yourself, you knocked lightly on the doorframe.

Judd turned his head slightly, his eyes catching yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you with that same unreadable expression. It was like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out what you wanted.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound casual. “Uh… hey. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay back here.”

Judd raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Everything’s fine. Why? You babysitting me too?”

Your face heated up, and you cursed yourself for blushing. “No, just, um… making sure.”

There was an awkward pause. You could feel your Hormone Monstress practically vibrating with excitement, urging you to say something—anything—to keep the conversation going. But your mind was blank.

Finally, Judd shrugged, turning back to his jacket. “Well, I’m not a kid, so you don’t need to check on me.”

You winced inwardly. Great, now you probably just looked like a nervous wreck. “Right,” you said quickly. “Sorry. I’ll, uh, let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

As you turned to leave, Judd’s voice stopped you. “Wait.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned back around, trying not to let the rush of adrenaline show on your face.

He was looking at you again, his eyes dark and intense. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You blinked, taken aback. You hadn’t expected him to ask that—hell, you hadn’t expected him to care. “Oh, um… it’s [Your Name].”

Judd nodded slowly, as if testing your name on his tongue. “You’re that girl who babysits the little twerp, right?”

You nodded, unsure where this was going. “Yeah, I’ve been babysitting him for a while now.”

Judd smirked, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Huh. I’ve seen you around, but I didn’t think you’d be the type to hang out with little kids.”

You felt your pulse quicken again, and your Hormone Monstress was back in full force. "He’s noticing you! He’s noticing you! Say something cool!"

You swallowed, trying to think of a response that didn’t make you sound like a complete idiot. “Well, Nick and Andrew are… entertaining, I guess,” you said with a small laugh, though your voice felt shaky.

Judd’s smirk widened slightly. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

There was another pause, but this time, it didn’t feel quite as awkward. You felt a strange connection between you, something unspoken and electric. You didn’t know what it was, but it was there, and you couldn’t deny it.

Finally, Judd stood up, his tall frame looming over you as he adjusted his jacket. “Well, I’ll let you get back to babysitting,” he said, his voice casual, though there was a hint of something else in his tone. “Don’t let the little nerds drive you too crazy.”

You nodded, still feeling a little breathless. “I’ll try.”

And with that, Judd walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours for the briefest of moments. You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest, and you knew—right then and there—that you were in deep trouble.

Because Judd Birch wasn’t just a crush. He was a problem. A problem you didn’t know how to handle, but one you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Your Hormone Monstress, of course, was ecstatic. "Oh, sweetheart, this is going to be fun. Buckle up, because we’re just getting started."

And she was right. You knew it, deep down, that this was just the beginning of something far more complicated than you’d ever expected.

But for now, all you could think about was how you couldn’t wait to see him again.

#judd birch #big mouth #judd birch x reader #x reader #series

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girl-next-door-writes · 22 days ago

Text

Two Princes

Characters: Loki x reader

Summary: Torn between Thor’s steadfast love and Loki’s magnetic allure, you must choose which Asgardian prince will claim your heart.

Word Count: 1707 words

Prompt: Two Princes – The Spin Doctors

A/N: For @caplanbuckybarnes Decades Challenge.

The warm golden glow of twilight bathed the room, creating a soft haze in contrast to the palpable tension hanging in the air. Standing in the meeting hall of New Asgard, you felt the weight of two pairs of eyes on you. One gaze was familiar, teasing, playful, and filled with warmth. The other was intense, cold, calculating—yet equally magnetic.

Loki and Thor, two princes of Asgard, stood before you. Each was a force of nature in his own right, and both were vying for something you never thought they’d want from you: your affection.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Loki asked, his lips curled into a half-smirk as he leaned casually against the wall, but you could see the storm brewing in his emerald eyes.

Thor stood tall, arms crossed, his massive frame radiating authority, yet his blue eyes softened as they met yours. "I would never force you. You know that. But you must choose."

You sighed, your heart pounding against your chest. How had things gotten so complicated?

It had started simply enough. You had been asked to keep an eye on the Asgardians as they settled in their new land.

Thor was your first real connection. From the moment he met you, he was charming, kind, and always attentive. You were drawn to him, not just because of his looks or status, but because he radiated warmth. Thor was like the sun—bright, reliable, and so easy to be around. With Thor, life felt simple, like everything would be alright as long as he was near. He would fight for you, protect you, and give you a life of adventure.

But then there was Loki. The dark prince, the trickster, the enigma who had always seemed just beyond your reach. Loki’s attention had been unexpected. He had watched you with amusement from a distance at first, his sharp wit often at your expense. But you saw beyond his sarcasm. Beneath the layers of mischief, there was a vulnerability to Loki that tugged at your heart. With him, everything felt unpredictable, exciting, but also dangerous. Loki was the night to Thor’s day—a storm waiting to sweep you away.

It had been a simple conversation with Loki that changed things. You had spoken about magic, of the realms beyond, and the weight of loneliness. That evening, something shifted between you. His gaze softened, his words became less biting, and his walls began to crumble just a little. The connection with Loki was electric, but it came with a price—the constant question of trust. With Loki, you were never quite sure if what you saw was what you got.

Now, you were caught between them. Thor had made his feelings for you clear. He didn’t need to woo you with tricks or fancy words; he simply laid his heart bare. "I want you by my side." he had said one evening while the two of you stood looking out over the harbor. "Not as a subject of Asgard, but as my equal. You belong here, with me."

It was easy with Thor—so easy it was almost tempting to just say yes. But something held you back.

Loki, on the other hand, was a different story. He never outright confessed his feelings, but his actions spoke louder than words. The way he would linger in the shadows during formal gatherings, always keeping an eye on you, the subtle ways he’d brush his hand against yours, the long, silent conversations shared through stolen glances. He had whispered to you one night, “I could give you the world, if you dared to follow me into it.”

The rivalry between the brothers was no secret, but now, it had taken a far more personal turn. Thor was everything any sane person would want: kind, heroic. But Loki—Loki was a world of passion and danger. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, despite the warnings.

“Choose me,” Loki said, his voice softer now as he stepped closer. His long fingers brushed a lock of hair from your face, and your skin tingled from his touch. “We don’t belong in the light. Not entirely. You and I… we could be extraordinary.”

Thor frowned but remained composed. “Loki, this isn’t about power or proving something. It’s about her heart. Let her decide freely.”

You looked between them, torn. Loki, who stirred something wild and untamed inside you, and Thor, who offered stability and unconditional love.

Weeks passed, and you avoided making a decision, hoping for clarity. But it never came. As you spent time with each of them, you realised the depth of their feelings, and the intensity of the rivalry that had only grown between the brothers. They were both so different, yet each one drew out a part of you that you couldn’t deny.

One evening, Loki invited you for a stroll along the coastline. It was quiet, the stars above twinkling in a velvet sky. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked softly, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours.

You swallowed hard. "Feel what?"

“This pull between us,” he whispered, his eyes locking with yours. “It’s not something you can ignore forever. You and I… we’re alike. The darkness, the magic, the rebellion. You know you want more than Thor can offer.”

Your heart raced. You did feel something for him—something deep and consuming. But Thor's face flashed in your mind. He had been nothing but honest with you, and the last thing you wanted was to hurt him. Loki might be right about the connection you shared, but could you really trust him with your heart?

“It isn’t that simple.” You sighed, torn as you looked up at him.

“It can be. I could be so simple.” Loki said softly, true vulnerability in his eyes. “I know that I am not always the easiest person to be around, but… but you make me feel like who I am may be enough. Please. Please choose me.”

"I... I don't know," you whispered desperately, stepping back from Loki. "I need time."

That was when Thor found you. His eyes fell on Loki, and a familiar tension filled the air. “Brother, I think it’s time we let her breathe. This constant pull isn’t helping.”

Loki’s jaw clenched and you could see his walls coming back up as he stepped back, giving you space. "I won't wait forever." he warned, before disappearing into the night.

Thor approached you cautiously. “I’m not like him,” he said softly, brushing a gentle hand against your arm. “I won’t make promises of worlds or magic. But I can promise you honesty, love, and a life of adventure. I’ll never make you doubt where you stand with me… and I would never make you feel bad if you decided your heart lay elsewhere.”

Your heart ached. How were you supposed to choose between them?

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself reflecting on what each brother offered. Loki was a tempest—a force that would sweep you off your feet, filling your veins with fire and daring you to chase the unknown. You thought of the secretive glances shared in shadowed corridors, the thrill of his touch, like lightning barely contained. But could you ever truly trust him?

Thor, on the other hand, was the embodiment of stability, his presence like an anchor in the storm. You remembered the warmth of his arm around you as you both watched the stars, his voice a steady hum of promises he would never break. Life with him would be simpler, yes. Safer, maybe. But did your heart crave that kind of safety?

You woke one morning your decision as clear as an azure sky in the depths of summer. The choice had settled in your heart, and while it wasn’t easy, it felt right.

You found both brothers in the meeting hall. Their eyes watched you expectantly as you entered.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Thor first. “I care about you, Thor. You’ve shown me things I never thought possible. But…”

Thor's face tightened, his eyes reflecting a brief, raw ache that he quickly hid behind a soft, resigned smile. "I see. I accept your decision." His fingers lingered against yours, just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin—and then he lifted your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. When he released you, his voice was a murmur, almost too quiet to hear. "Be happy, that's all I ask." Without another word, he turned and walked out of the hall, his shoulders squared but his steps slower than usual.

You turned to Loki, nerves twisting in your stomach as his sharp gaze searched your face, guarded but vulnerable, as if bracing himself for the blow.

"Loki..." you whispered, stepping closer.

He gave a nervous laugh, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes that he quickly masked with a smirk. "On second thought, perhaps it's better if you don't say anything." He looked away, jaw tightening. "I think I already know."

You took his hand, refusing to let him slip away. "No, Loki. You need to hear this." “Very well.” Loki braced himself for what he believed was inevitable rejection.

"Loki, you are... impossible," you said, voice catching. "Infuriating, reckless, unpredictable." You tightened your grip on his hand, feeling his pulse quicken under your fingers. "And yet, somehow, you've made a place for yourself in my heart. Against all reason, all logic... I choose you."

His eyes widened, flickering with disbelief. "You... choose me?" he whispered, as if the words were a spell that might break if spoken too loudly. “I do.”

The two of you stood there, sharing a fragile, unspoken promise in the stillness of the hall. But even as Loki's hand tightened around yours, a shadow of doubt lingered in your mind—a warning whisper that he could be as fleeting as a storm. You brushed the thought aside, smiling up at him, hoping desperately that this time, he wouldn’t break your heart.

#Loki #Loki x reader #gndw fic #cappys decades challenge

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