#the avengers are jerks here

[worstloki]

HYDRA kidnaps Loki but all the goons look up to him and think he’s the coolest guy and keep kissing up to him because they really really want him to join their ranks

[izzysarchivedblogs]

Another reason to dislike Peter Parker. He's shirtless.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again

logan x reader

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.

This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”

“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”

Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”

His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”

“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.

“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”

“Something like that.”

“Did we know each other back there?”

Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.

Logan had loved you and you had loved him.

Two reckless mutants.

Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.

A different version of you but God, the same.

“We were friends, really good friends.”

The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.

Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.

“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”

Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”

A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”

Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”

The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”

Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”

[romanscoming]

Love your stranger things work!! 🤤😍

PLEASE MAKE A MARVEL OR SPIDERMAN TWT LINKS PLZ 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2 YOU ALL <3 !

MARVEL - PORN LINKS !

VOL. 1 - [ MALE ~ !PART1 ]

NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD

SEND REQUESTS &MAKE SURE TO DO THE TAGLIST !!

INCLUDES: Thor Odinson, Peter Parker { TOM & ANDREW }, Steve Rogers `Captain America, Tony Stark `Iron Man, Dr. Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Eddie Brock/Vemon, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner/Hulk (MORE IF REQUESTED)

WARNING: these are links that contain porn, sexual activities.. so be aware.

——

↣ THOR ODINSON

THOR feels like heaven when u ride him .

THOR loves it when you worship him to beyonce <3 !

THOR pounds inside of u in the closet next to the meeting room .

THOR like some wild shii, and ur just here for it .

↣ PETER PARKER

PETER always wanted to eat you out, and you finally let him .

PETER1 & PETER2 both came too help u release some stress .

PETER doesn't like u teasing him at school, so he fucks u at home.. long and hard

PETER failed his mission, and needs you .

↣ STEVE ROGERS

STEVE loves it when you use him as your person dildo .

STEVE loves ur special halloween costume he even fucks u in it .

STEVE is madly in love with your tight little pussy, he wants to cum inside u and fill u all the way up all the time .

STEVE can fuck you all night long, he doesn't care.. he js needs you wants u and has to feel ur insides, he wants your legs shaking and everything inside of u.

↣ TONY STARK

TONY will fuck you anywhere in the avengers hq, he doesn't give a fuck .

TONY will never let u bath in peace, u have to be full of his cock .

TONY special bday present, he's been dying for this .

TONY breeds you full, not letting a single one of his kids fall out of ur prefect pussy hole .

↣ DR. STEPHEN STRANGE

DR. STRANGE find u in the kitchen and place u on to his dick .

DR. STRANGE loves the feeling of their cum spill inside of u .

DR. STRANGE wants u to jerk him off and keep eye contact .

DR. STRANGE can't keep his hands off of u when ur riding him sooo good .

↣ EDDIE BROCK / VEMON

EDDIE is a real softy when your on top of him .

EDDIE randomly pops in at your apartment and fucks u brainless standing up .

EDDIE & VEMON always take care of u, ur their little baby and fuck toy .

EDDIE/VEMON has u bouncing babbling and more on his dick .

↣ LOKI LAUFEYSON

LOKI has been mad all day, & what's better than release all his anger out on u ?

LOKI always wants it raw, as soon as u wait up, as soon as your home.. anywhere.

LOKI thinks he should start punishing you more after this .

LOKI has to fill u up with his cum before leaving on a mission .

↣ BUCKY BARNES

BUCKY has attachment issue.. he has to show u that he loves u and he has to be close by u, he has to b deep inside u .

BUCKY does not play with it comes to creampies and backshots .

BUCKY doesn't think u can handle him, so u show him u can .

BUCKY will never stop breeding u, ur gonna b his little momma someday .

↣ BRUCE BANNER / HULK

BRUCE always lets u take control, because your is prefect girl ^^ .

HULKS dick straight in ur cunt, over and over and over .

BRUCE wants u bouncing on his dick while natasha watches and help .

BRUCE gets a promotion and wants u to make u happy .

| SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY BUT IM HERE NOW, AND ILL B FEEDIN U PUMPKINS <3.

~ BE PREPARED FOR A LOT OF P LINKS BECAUASE I HAVE A COMPLE OF REQUESTS FOR THEM, AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ONE OF ANY FANDOM !!

` ILL START THE TAGLIST SOON IT JS MAKES ME NERVOUS FOR SOME REASON !

IF ANY MISTAKES OR ERRORS PLEASE LET ME KNOW !

©️ trustynjaay

[anika-ann]

Sweet and Ours, Tonight - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, domestic... filth

Pairing: Steve Rogers x wife!reader   Word Count: 5,8k

Summary:  You and Steve had a long, long week.

You both deserve a reward. Perhaps an evening with undivided attention to each other... and maybe to end the endless week with a bang.

The thing is, Steve has no idea about what’s awaiting him at home. Yet, you have a feeling he will like it - and he'll be happy to show you.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, praise kink, slight authority kink, soft dom/sub elements (with a tad dominant Steve), a sprinkle of possessiveness, potential blasphemy, lingerie kink, marriage kink (if that's a thing), mention of (tender) hair pulling, mention of semi-public sex if you squint really hard, language, FLOOF

A/N: At the time of Cum Together: Community Revival Extravaganza  hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, there were two potential stories on my mind – the soulmate AU one, which I ended up writing, and this one, which fulfils multiple prompts from the list (see the end). The extravaganza is long over – but hopefully, you’ll enjoy 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @saradika; enjoy, but it's smut y'all - read at your own risk and responsibility

Setting the half-full glass of water on the counter, you smiled to yourself as you heard the keys rattle in the lock. The sound meant one of your favourite things in the world: Steve was home.

‘Home’ was your spacious shared apartment near the new upstate Avengers facility, one you and Steve had chosen not because the large complex hadn’t included living quarters, but because you had wanted a place that was truly your own.

On days like this, you were more grateful for that decision than ever. Here, the work and the weight you carried from it could be left at the doorstep, and you could enter a truly safe space, shielded by your love from the outside world. World which could be loud, overwhelming, and at times, evil.

Today, it meant that Steve would try to leave behind the exhaustion and frustration of a week-long conference of the United Nations and adjoined organisations. You, you had left behind the very same sentiments lacing the endless week of extra shifts. Sometimes it felt like the work was never done; be it patching up international relations or patching up the dumbass of the day. Be it dealing with diplomats who barely even listened, let alone acted on their empty promises; or be it repairing damage to human body made by another supposedly human being, battling to keep alive agents who not so rarely held zero regard for their own safety in the process of saving the very world for whose safety Steve was advocating in DC. You wondered where the agents could have possibly got the inspiration for their reckless behaviour – but that was not the kind of thoughts you wanted to entertain tonight, especially since you knew the answer all too well.

Tonight, you wanted to cherish your husband’s company.

You had missed Steve; even when swamped with work, you both took care to stay in contact, confiding one another on as much of your longing for each other’s company as on feeling drained.

You were glad for having had enough wits to plan ahead and be able to come home before him.

It had been no surprise to you that Steve had called you that he was about to arrive home as scheduled, but crankier than planned despite finally leaving the self-contained self-important jerks behind. The relief in his voice had been palpable; and his voice had only grown warmer when he learned you were to already wait for him at home. Your lips had twitched at the guttural sigh he released upon learning, whispering he was really happy to hear that; as were you to hear that he was coming home in one piece, which was unfortunately not a rule.

He loved you, he had said too. So damn much.

You had told him the same, wondering if that was what would leave his lips when he’d see you. Especially since he had no idea what coming his way, should he want it.

The lock barely clicked open and you were already on your way. A rapid carpet-muted staccato of your heels welcomed Steve as he entered, his curiosity clearly piqued in an instant.

He had but a second to take in your appearance – the bloody red pumps, the peek of nude nylons, the beige trench coat reaching just above your knees, your simple but effective hairdo and make-up, dominated by berry-red lipstick – or get his suitcase through the doors and close them. Before he could say as much as hi, you were already cupping his face and kissing him softly, for once not having to stand on your tiptoes too high.

There was a significant part of you which was dangerously close to jumping on him with enough force to slam him against the door and pour all your enthusiasm at seeing him into the kiss. It had taken all your willpower not to do so since your body throbbed with the need – but you didn’t want him to feel ambushed, unsure about his mood. So you revelled in the precious opportunity to touch him, in the feel of the figurative and literal warmth he was radiating, in the taste of his lips you had missed so viscerally; and with the minute mental capacity left, you tried your best to read his reaction.

It would be a shame for your plan and efforts to go to waste; but the last thing you’d want was to push thoroughly exhausted Steve who’d just want some peace into something he’d… be willing but not excited to do.

Your worries were fruitless, however. Steve’s hands came to life immediately, one reaching for your waist, the other to cradle your cheek. His lips responded in kind, even as his smile tasted of surprise. The tension you had got a brief glimpse of melted away from his shoulders, fingertips caressing your skin, nose gently nudging yours as your lips parted, forehead to forehead.

“Hi,” you breathed out contentedly, feeling the tension leaving you as well, warmth spreading through every vein and nerve in your body at Steve’s gentle chuckle instead.

“Hi, love.”

“Welcome home.”

His smile was as nothing short of blinding when he retreated just a bit to look at you and grace you with a shining gaze roaming your face, as if taking in every feature, every line, every arch, every last eyelash for the first time. Your heart thump-thumped in your chest happily as your hands slid to his neck, unable to tear your gaze away from the beautiful image he made.

A man with love.

Your man.

Your husband.

Your extremely handsome husband; every suit, be it a formal wear or his tactical one, accentuated his wide shoulders and sharply cut jaw you couldn’t but run your fingertips over, marvelling at the pure delight in his face.

“I feel very much welcomed, sweetheart,” he assured you, squeezing your waist. Despite being clearly exhausted, his smile was radiant; until it fell a fraction. “Are you going out?”

Your heart hummed with a soft ache; it was impossible to miss his effort not to look disappointed as not to make you feel guilty for having a social life outside your marriage, even if rather inconveniently timed. Bless his good, good heart.

You shook your head with your smile lingering, barely hiding a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Rogers.”

His expression perked up again, his arm sneaking further around your waist as he observed you with playful curiosity. “Oh? Are we going out? Did you plan something, Mrs. Rogers?”

To highlight his indulgence in calling you that – and god knew hearing him say that still sent butterflies to your stomach even after months of that being a reality – his hand moved from your cheek to take you left hand, fingers interlacing; your wedding bands made a soft clinking noise as they met, Steve’s gaze flickering to their combined light with such undiluted joy in that little action you couldn’t but brush your lips over his again, something deep inside you trembling and preening at once.

Your husband.

“Would it be a bad thing? If I did plan something?” you asked, part coy, part genuine. “It’s okay if you’re not in mood for that.”

Steve only smiled wider, dropping a kiss to your knuckles and then your lips, before pulling back just a fraction. He observed you silently and almost absently, yet seemingly with mission-level intent. 

The silence stretched as you awaited his answer, encouraging him – and yourself, because the silence was growing louder with every beat of your heart – with a suddenly unsure smile.

“Steve? Love?”

He blinked, shaking his head lightly. Before you could feel your stomach drop in disappointment at this being his answer, he spoke up.

“Sorry, you… you look beautiful. Got a little distracted here.”

Your belly did a funny flip-flop that had no right to be so deep within; but this gorgeous man had no right to be so perfect either. And you loved him for it.

“I don’t mind going out or staying,” he said softly. “I’m honestly just glad to be home. With you. That’s my favourite thing in the world. Being with you… here, in the home we made together.”

Tremble. Something within you trembled and it was almost comical how those words shook and soothed your soul, a sharp contrast to how very non-poetic your intention to seduce his body was. But that was how you seduced each other the first time and did so over and over again; body, mind and soul alike, tipping the scales in favour of one and then the other and back as the situation allowed.

It was your turn to blink now, fighting the burn of tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at the profound sincerity in Steve’s voice and the adoration in his beautiful blues; they turned all the prettier as a spark of mischief lit them up and he stepped back, releasing you from his warm embrace.

“But, since you got all dolled-up and clearly made plans, it would be a waste. Want to tell me what my orders are, ma’am?”

Excitement lighting up your nerves anew, you stepped back with a hum.

“Well… actually, I made plans to stay in…” Steve’s eyebrow arched a bit, but something beautifully dark flashed in his eyes – a mute understanding that whatever you had planned, you had dolled up for him. For him and him only. “And since you said those people there were all talk, no listening, no action… I thought that maybe you’d a like a change of scenery.”

As you took another step back further into the apartment, Steve discarded his shoes in a lightning speed, his gaze never leaving your face, hanging on your lips for every syllable. 

You bit back a satisfied smile, something hot stirring in your belly. “That maybe, you’d like someone who can listen very well, and is willing to… act? Would you like to tell me my orders, Captain?”

His gaze went to roam – from the top to bottom, drinking in your attire, a perfect trap you had set for both of you to tangle in. The tall red heels. The coat for him to untie. The nylons – which Steve at this point must have understood were, in fact, thigh-highs, perhaps strapped to a garter belt. The hair. That lipstick. That damn lipstick that turned his eyes a shade darker and hungrier, his voice dropping two octaves.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

You raised a challenging brow, a coy smile adorning your red red lips as you toyed with the hem of your coat; Steve knew you well-enough by now to know that you wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if you hadn’t wanted that. You wanted.

You wanted him, with every fibre of your being, lit alive and reborn divine under his searing hot gaze. You longed to be his, however he pleased. To please him however you could.

At last, he got the message. He seemed to very much revel in that message, in fact.

“Let’s go to the bedroom then.”

He led you by the hand, even though you both knew the way and had walked it many times before, even when blinded by desire, with lips never parting, frantic stumbles and wandering impatient hands. Tonight, there was no rush; steps deliberately slow, you followed his lead, standing still by the doorway when he let go of your hand in favour of stripping his suit jacket as soon as you entered.

Your eyes followed his every move, indulging in the sight of his muscles rippling under the smooth fabric of his white shirt; indulging in the shudder of realization running down his body, coming after his brief confusion of finding you obediently exactly where he had left you.

You barely bit back a smirk at the way his breath hitched.

“Alrighte,” he breathed out as he walked to the foot of the bed, turning his back to it to look at you.

You had never had a man to look at you like that before; his gaze was like the most delicious shockwave igniting every cell in your body with desire and pride.

His. You were your own woman, but goddamn, were you his.

“Alright. Come here, sweetheart.”

You did. Hooked on his burning gaze as he seemed hypnotized by your every step, by every inch erased between you, you walked to him, only stopping when he settled his wide palm over your hip, his other hand soon joining on the other side.

For a moment, he simply observed you, your parted lips, your eyes blown wide, just as aroused by the dynamics as he was. Then, a warm yet mischievous smile lifted the corners of his lips, hands squeezing your hips.

You weren’t sure what you had expected – a kiss, a toss on the bed, his hands ripping the fabric, all things you had encountered and more – but of all options, he chose the one your mind had not offered at the moment. His hands slid lower, inch by inch as he kneeled in front of you, sitting back on his heels, the heat of his skin seeping into yours the second his palms slipped past the edge of the fabric of your coat.

Sensual. Steve was most definitely in mood for sensual tonight and you were not going to complain if for nothing else than for having trouble breathing as his fingertips traced the thin ankle strap of your shoe, warm fingers delicately circling your ankle, cupping your calf, sneaking past your knee to spread over the back of your thigh, inching your legs apart so he could move the coat out of the way and press a lingering kiss to your where the lace of your thigh-high met bare skin of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat when his free hand reached for the loose knot on your coat, dextrous fingers undoing it with ease and tugging, all while his lips brushed over your sensitive skin higher and higher towards the apex of your thigh.

“Take it off, love,” he whispered into your heat, tugging at the hem of your coat, the index finger of his other hand slipping under the strap of your garter belt, nosing along your inner thigh and inhaling deeply.

A shudder ran down your spine at the huskiness of his voice, leaving you with no space to even consider embarrassment at your husband’s need to drown himself in the scent of your arousal; you busied yourself with stripping the coat in five seconds flat and dropping it on the floor, rewarded by his warm breathy chuckle.

“So good for me…” He looked up from his spot, caressing along the line of your panties, feasting his eyes on the delicate lace hugging your breasts, at the elaborate but feather-light pattern on your garter belt, at the barely-there panties covering your sex. The smoulder in his pupils as his gaze zeroed on his price was almost too much to bear. Whether you were shy or impatient, you couldn’t tell, but your chest was heaving with every breath, your back arching just a bit at the praise that stroked something deep within you. “My beautiful, irresistible wife…”

“Steve-“

He returned his attention to your thigh, sucking a lovebite just above the hem of your stocking, soothing the offended spot with a butterfly-soft kiss you couldn’t help but sigh his name at again.

He hooked his fingers at the front straps of your garter, urging you forward, closer, as he sat on the floor, back leaning against the foot of the bed, tilting his head back and resting in on the mattress; a content smile played on his lips as if it was the most comfortable spot in the apartment, his hands roaming appreciatively. Over the curve of your hip. Following the pattern of the lace. Along the straps, along the hem. But never, never where your need for him burned, soaking the excuse of underwear over your sex.

“Didn’t have such pretty view in D.C.,” he mused, gaze trailing over the thin fabric already shining with your arousal, trailing all over your body to your face, to your red lips painted just as you knew he loved them. “Never ceases to amaze me. Like a piece of art. So damn perfect… mine to touch.”

You didn’t have timefor body insecurities with Steve. Any imperfection you saw, it didn’t bother him; he’d kiss you everywhere, claiming and loving every piece of your body and soul and mind, as he hadn’t forgotten to mention when he proposed; and then followed up with proving the first part of his claim with intense but the softest damn loving.

The memory of him getting on one knee with a glimmer of tears in his eyes quickly dispersed when his maddeningly delicate touch finally brushed over your slit, your hips instinctively bucking forward; Steve instantly used the opportunity to spread his palms under your bottom, urging you closer and closer until the front of your thighs met the mattress, effectively caging him in, mouth not more than an inch from your mound. He smiled up at you wickedly, forefinger drawing nonsensical patterns over your clothed sex.

“Steve, love-“

You lost your voice when he guided your knee to prop on the mattress next to his head, a violent tug of desire gripping at your core at the implication of what he wanted – stirring as much want as insecurity and hesitance.

You voice was shaky as your gaze found his, the question on your lips so quiet he might miss it hadn’t it been for his enhanced hearing.

“Steve, are you… sure?”

One glance into his eyes told you was more than that.

And the mere thought of him doing what he was leading you towards felt like molten lava poured into your veins, nothing but smouldering heat left behind.

You had never done that. Not with him, not with anyone else.

It was true that Steve could get rather intense when it came to love making – or shameless fucking – but he always drew significant amount of his pleasure from your own. Your husband was but a giver, even as he always coaxed you to give it to him. He had sure been far from shy or prudish in the privacy of your quarters – or in certain cases no one must ever learn about, elsewhere – and he enjoyed all kinds of things, his mouth on you among them. You had explored together, dived into depths of pleasure you hadn’t thought were possible. But you hadn’t---not like this.

Not with you basically on top of his goddamn face.

“Are you?” he asked, pressing a brief kiss to the juncture of your thighs, looking at you from under his eyelashes with a challenge and a plea.

In your exploration, he had pushed your limits; but never you. He’d never do anything that seemed even tad too uncomfortable for you. As of consequence, there was virtually nothing you wouldn’t let him do, because you trusted him to stop at the first sign of your protest.

Okay. Okay. The utter wanton in his eyes shining through the sincerity was melting your brain. No choice to make.

You nodded, rewarded by a satisfied smirk that would have earned anyone else a smack to their face. But with Steve, there was something dangerously alluring about that instead; that smirk meant paradise aligning with hell awaiting you, whispered of you soon begging him – to stop or to continue, you’d never quite know yourself.

“Well then, remember you promised to listen… and do.”

Little shit, was as far as you got in your thoughts.

Because then he was wrapping a firm arm around your leg on the bed and pushing your panties aside and after a few teasingly careful licks, he began his feast like a starved man seated at the royal table.

Your hands found purchase on his hair and the bed, knees nearly buckling under the assault of pleasure, burning through your body like a wildfire. The way his wicked tongue played with you had you gasping his name in need bordering on desperation, chest tight as you were forgetting to breathe, core clenching so soon you couldn’t quite believe it as the tidal wave of bliss washed over you, hips rocking in aftershocks, knees eventually giving out.

It was only for a split second that you worried you might smother Steve or splatter ungracefully on the floor; because Steve had you. He always had you. His supersoldier part undeniable, he caught you, manipulating your body so he could cradle you protectively as you came from your high and literal height, holding you against his chest as you straddled him with seemingly boneless legs.

You were hyperaware of every bit of praise spilling from your lips, whispered to your skin warmly, but you couldn’t form words.

Not until his lips found yours, meeting in a soft kiss spiced with the tang of your essence, the most intimate kiss between lovers. He pushed the hair from your face tenderly, eyes both hungry and soft as if you weren’t soaking his dress pants where your core met his evident arousal and you weren’t both panting as if you had just run a marathon. His hand caressed up and down your spine, over and over, as if to ground you in reality.

A peck to your cheek. To your mouth. Your lips coming back to life at least, pressing to his jaw, to his smile.

“Could stay like this forever,” he whispered, nose trailing along your cheek, leaving a kiss under your ear, drawing a breathless chuckle from you. “With you in my arms, your taste on my lips, head swimming from your sweet perfume and everything that’s you… my wonderful wife… “

Blinking owlishly, you met his gaze as he cradled your cheek, hair a beautiful messy hallo from where you had tried to hold on when he was devouring you. His lips found yours again, a gentle murmur.

“You’re my everything, you know that?”

You did. By god you did. It was impossible not to, even as that fact was but a pure stroke of a miracle. He was your everything too. Your alfa and your omega. Your weakness and your strength. Your love, unshakable foundation even on days when everything including his own hands did shake. Your home, whenever you’d go.

You ran your fingers through his golden locks, expression nothing short of tender, touch nothing short of reverent – as one should be when in face of a miracle.

“And you’re my home,” you whispered back.

Seconds ticked by in soft silence, pleasure still tingling all over your body, but it was the overwhelming love and need in Steve’s gaze that consumed you completely.  

You didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t dare to breathe. You simply watched him living through a moment as precious to him as he was to you, electric tension rising and almost audibly crackling in the air.

And then he was gripping your nape, mouth claiming and devouring, one hand sliding under your bottom to lift you in a display of strength that never failed to make you dizzy and blinded you with desire unmatched despite having just come down from your high. You returned his kiss with the same fervour, hands grasping at his shirt, frantically searching for buttons to undo and then simply tugging hard until the thread gave out and sent the buttons flying, a nip of teeth to your lips accompanied with Steve’s dark chuckle like the sweetest song of victory.

He sat down at the bed with you still straddling him, helping you strip the shirt without your lips ever parting, his hands leaving you but for the fraction of second necessary to get rid of the fabric in your way and then you were both sighing in relief when your palms met the burning skin of his sculptured chest, his wide shoulders, his clenching abs.

“Need you,” you confessed as soon as you got to breathe in, back at his lips the very next second, Steve’s large palm kneading your bottom, hips thrusting into yours and eliciting a wanton moan from you both. “And I want you in my mouth-“

A delicious growl rumbled in is chest, fingers tangled in your hair pulling just a little, tipping your head back to give him access to leave a string of kisses down the column of your throat, the deliberately slow bucks of his hips into yours never ceasing.

“You’re a wicked little thing.”

You chuckled, a cheeky remark on your painfully free lips, the delightful friction between your bodies not nearly enough to sooth your thirst.

“You do say I’m wicked smart. Why this time?”

The nip of teeth on your collarbone and the way his fingers dug into your flesh had you barely stifle a gasp, but his answer was a reward for a work well-done.

“Goddamn you, woman, you know what you do to me, especially that lipstick-”

“I know what it does to you to see it smeared in certain places,” you breathed out, silenced by a bruising kiss to your lips and a light sting on the back of your thigh as Steve pulled at one of the strings of your garter and let it snap against your skin. Your wandering hands reached for his belt, almost tasting the salty tang of him already as you’d get on your knees for him.

“Wicked,” he grunted against your mouth, lifting his hips – with you still on top – to help you strip his pants, “I thought I was giving the orders tonight.”

“Oh you do, Captain,” you assured him, revelling a little too much at the twitch against your core as you blatantly used his title against him. “Just informing you I’m willing.”

“Driving me crazy. Want you to want me just as much, to need me-“

“I do. Need to taste you-”

“Jesus Christ-“ he choked out, releasing you so you could press one last thorough kiss to his mouth and then slide down to your knees, grateful for the soft carpet.

Ridding Steve of the last piece of clothing, you took great care to maintain eye-contact as you stroked him, feather-light, and licked at the tip. The breathy sound resembling your name that left his lips when you wrapped your lips around the head sent a jolt of heat down your spine, hot satisfaction pooling in your belly and making your heart thunder in your chest.

Nothing had ever made you feel more powerful and treasured than Steve looking at you with half-lidded eyes, groaning as you took him deeper and bobbed your head, closing your lips tight around him as you pulled back to smear as much of the sinful red colour down his cock, his hands gripping the sheets so hard the fabric might tear.

God, he was gorgeous; a wrecked angel-like figure made for worship and sin, they only deity you needed, sculpted to divine perfection.

His fingers tangled gently at your hair, only to twitch repeatedly as he was holding back the strength he wanted to use keep you right there, always making you want to swallow around him harder to make him lose that control; the curses, the deliciously prolonged fuuuck tasting like a victory, the fuck-- sweetheart, you feel like heaven a blessing that stirred pure lust deep within your core.

He was done for almost too soon; a little work, a hint of a sinful smile in the corner of your lips as you watched him lose layer after layer of control to reveal the primal drive that made him just as human as any. Once your hands joining your efforts, he was spilling down your throat, eyes squeezed shut in an image of absolute heavenly ruin.

You waited for him to flutter his eyes open; not having even gone soft in your mouth, you dragged your lips down his length to leave the last red and glossy mark, the string of blasphemy leaving his mouth telling you he didn’t give a damn thing about your tear-smeared mascara but cared a whole lot about the prettily ruined lipstick. When you licked your lips as if he had just given you your favourite treat, he practically dragged you back to his lap, seemingly torn between proposing all over again and lamenting you were going to be his death.

Yet, he kissed you tenderly like a precious porcelain doll and reached for the wet wipe in the nightstand drawer to gently clean the black smears down your cheek. The smudged lipstick he indulgently wiped with his thumb before his mouth slanted over yours again, the thrumming passion between you growing louder again; you were dripping down your thighs from the appreciative gaze and the taste of him alone and Steve was rarely ever sated with climaxing just once. Especially after a week apart.

With his most acute hunger sated, however, he took time to admire the view again, even with your shoes finally discarded, indulging in the delicate lace instead, in the warmth of your body, in your perfume and the scent of your skin. His voice dropped low in volume, intimate whispers of how he wanted to see you take him deep and make you his, fingers gently stretching you to accommodate his impressive size before he led you to sink down on his length at last, filling you up so deliciously and completely.

With bodies stilled, the time seemed to slow down too. Eyes blown wide and dark, but with a sweet curl to your lips as you tasted each other over and over again, you both revelled in the sensation of being connected; brushes of fingertips, kisses to your lips, to your neck, to your sternum and breasts; to his chest, to his shoulders, to his kiss-swollen lips, wherever you could reach.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he confessed between encounters of lips, the softest voice with a husky aftertaste. “Missed this. Never going to another conference again.”

You almost chuckled at the unrealistic prospect, touched all the same.

“Missed you more… might go to a conference every once in a while. For science.”

Steve grunted in protest, palms framing your face as he observed with a slightly amused pout to his kiss-swollen lips.

“Hm. Sounds like your argument contradicts your hypothesis there, Doc.”

This time, you did chuckle a bit, raising an eyebrow even as you caressed his cheek, index finger tapping the pouty lower lip. “Well sue me, I’m a little dazed. I’m allowed. I finally have you for myself after a week, Steve.”

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to the pad of your finger, something devilish flashing in his eyes.

“That you do. I’m all yours. My smart, beautiful wife…” he coaxed with a kiss, hand landing lightly on your waist, hips thrusting up to encourage you to roll yours. There was no need to do so twice. You rocked your pelvis, jaw falling slack at the delightful sensation. A single movement and pleasure was spreading to every nerve ending, coil in your belly forming; Steve responded in kind, urging you on to keep going and set a pace.

“So good to me, sweetheart… so precious.”

“That’s it. So damn gorgeous like that--- look at me, love.”

“Making me feel so good… love having you like this. Never gonna get enough of this, of you…”

Golden. You felt so damn golden under his touch, from inside out, caressed with every single appreciative word spilling from his lips so naturally.

God, you had needed that. You needed that more than you had realized, having pushed down all the unpleasant interactions that had piled up during the week, interactions that made you feel everything but good, precious, brilliant or gorgeous. With every word, Steve poured his faith and love into the cracks in your being and healed them, silencing every doubt, grounding you so profoundly in the pleasure you shared that every single cell in your body ignited with something divine. The coil in your belly was strung so tight you almost felt yourself falling, if you’d only--- if he’d-

“Steve, please, I need-“

“I know what you need, love. I’ve got you.”

Your climax erupted through your body with Steve’s mouth wrapped around your nipple, his dextrous fingers digging into your ass and playing with your clit.

He found his release as he kneeled behind you and caged you to his front, one hand around your throat to angle your head for a sloppy kiss, the other spread wide over your lower belly, sneaky fingertips having coaxed another Earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Somewhere along the way, your lacy attire had ended up in shreds where Steve pulled a little too hard; the remnants of garter belt and stockings were carefully stripped by Steve’s tender fingers as he cleaned you up with a warm cloth before covering you with several kisses and only then with the comforter.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side and simply holding you as close as humanly possible, living and revelling in the moment just until his stomach growled.

After a semi-serious joke about taking you as a dessert for the second time, you lazily ordered take-out for three since you had worked up an appetite, moving to the couch. A movie in the background, Steve shared some of the highlights and escapades of the past few days from the conference and DC – as much as he could anyway. In return, you shared your own – as much as you could anyway. When in each other’s embrace, the trouble seemed far away; and what had felt like a path to the next Armageddon suddenly appeared considerably more manageable.

You were practically asleep, half-sprawled over Steve’s chest, when he pressed another kiss to your scalp, this time lingering.

“I love you… and thank you. That truly was a nice welcome home,” he said, bringing a ghost of a tired smile to your lips.

“It’s our home, Steve… You should always feel welcome. Loved.”

“And I do. Coming home to you is the most precious thing,” he mused, caressing your hair when you snuggled impossibly closer to him, inhaling the comforting scent of all that was him. “But you walking the extra mile… that truly makes me the luckiest guy in the universe.”

You hummed, his words warming you more thoroughly than his body and the blanket combined. You pressed a kiss to his sternum over his sleepshirt.

“And I’m the luckiest woman. I love you, Steeeve… I’m sorry-”

His chest shook under your cheek softly as your confession turned into a yawn, but he took it as a sign. He half-carried you to the bathroom and carried you entirely by the time you were done with your nighttime routine.

You murmured another love you, sleep well as you laid your head on the pillow, cradled in Steve’s protective embrace, his words reaching your ears from a terrible, terrible distance, but tasted just as sweet as ever.

“I will, love. I most definitely will.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Aren't they just sweet? 🥺 Happy belated birthday, Stevie 💕 I hope you enjoyed - feedback is always welcomed💕

Prompts, as promised:

Pouncing on your partner as soon as they arrive home from a trip away

“My favourite thing in the world is being here with you.”

Kinks: praise, soft!dom, oral

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go bath in holy water and pray to my muse that she'll let me write longfic too 🤭

[itsjusthockey]

Boo - Jack Hughes

I had no idea where this was going but it worked

Enjoy

Please request bitches, I need inspiration

wc:1.088 (credit to gif maker)

To Jack, there is nothing more sexy than a beautiful woman lying in his bed, completely ignoring him. Or maybe it was just you. To be fair, he can’t help it; Jack finds everything about you quite sexy, even when you haven’t paid a single ounce of attention to him in the past fifteen minutes, no matter what he’s done.

He tries everything. First, he calls your name, which you ignore. Then he starts making noises that you hate, which you ignore, and then he starts to remove his clothes, which causes you to flash him a quick glance, roll your eyes, and return to your computer.

He is about to give up when he decides he has one final trick up his sleeve. Removing himself from the chair, Jack puts himself face down on the floor, letting out a huge sigh.

Still nothing. So he goes again.

Three sighs later, you huff indignantly, shutting your computer.

“Whatever could you possibly be sighing about, Jack?”

Bingo. He turns to look at you, throwing you a sheepish smile.

“I’ve got a lot on my shoulders, babe.” Jack takes another deep breath and sighs dramatically. “Being rich, talented, and handsome is incredibly tiring work.” 

You snort. “I bet, baby, it’s so hard being you.”

You give him a fake pout before moving to get off the bed, stepping over him on the way to the bathroom. He watches like a hawk as you grab a few things, pee, and walk back, stepping over him again.

“What do I have to do to get some attention around here?” He finally asks, throwing you a pointed glance as you ponder his question.

“J, I’m sorry, but you know I have to do this. I can give you all the attention in the world once I finish this discussion. Okay?”

He raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You nod, and he places his head back down when an idea pops in his head.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Ballpark, how long until you're done?”

He hears you sigh, and a part of him feels terrible, but he knows it’s worth it.

“Probably 45 minutes to an hour.”

He lets out an okay and gets up, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek, which you barely register him. He makes his way to the bathroom and hops in for a quick shower, using the new fall-scented soap that you got him that both love.

Minutes later, he takes a quick glance at you as he throws on some gray sweats, and he smirks, knowing he still has time. You’re beyond focused with your headphones on, and Jack genuinely believes he could drop dead, and you wouldn’t know.

He makes his way outside into the living space, seeing Luke sprawled across the couch, watching an Avengers movie on the TV.

“What’s up?” Luke questions, watching as he heads to the closet that holds their hockey gear.

“I got some stuff yesterday for a thing I saw on TikTok, and (Y/N) needs a fun night.”

Jack pulls out the various fall items that he won’t lie; he enjoyed picking out. There are snacks, little games, candles, a stuffed pumpkin, and anything else he thought you would like.

He moves into action, putting together the basket and calling for an Uber Eats order. Luke, realizing what is going on, begins to laugh.

“You got her a boo-basket?”

“Shhhh, she’s right In there.” Jack jerks his head toward his bedroom.

Luke throws up his hand in surrender. “Sorry, I just didn’t think this was your thing. You’re not great at the whole romance thing all the time.”

Jack throws him a stern look and gives the pumping a gentle squeeze. “You tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

Jack finishes putting the basket together and places it on the center island. He then moves to dim the lights and light a candle, nodding at his good work.

“Alright, almost perfect.” He says, eyes landing on Luke. “Just one more thing.”

Luke shoots him a curious look. “What's that?”

“You’re here.” Jack points his finger toward the door. “Out.”

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, heading toward the door. He doesn’t get far before stealing a couple of Halloween Oreos and throwing Jack a wink on the way out.

As the door slams shut behind Luke, Jack waits for what feels like an eternity for you to exit the bedroom.

He can hardly contain his excitement and nerves as he watches you walk in confused, taking in the cozy setup. You pause, and he smiles, but that’s wiped away when he sees tears welling up in your eyes.

He’s a second away from panicking when you walk over to him, throwing your arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

“You did this for me?”

You pull back from him, and he gently pulls your chin up so your lips meet his.

“Actually, for Nico, but he’s running late, so I’ll guess you’ll work.”

You roll your eyes at him again, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

“This is so sweet, J.”

Jack watches as you look through all the goodies, getting more excited with each item. When you get to the pumpkin plush, you wheeze it so hard to your chest, and he practically melts.

“I love it, Jack, seriously.”

He pulls you back into his arms, relieved that his surprise has had the desired effect.

“Good, you deserve it," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The evening continues as you both enjoy your favorite food that's just arrived. You cozy up on the couch, surrounded by the fall-themed goodies and the warm, dimly lit room. The candles flicker, casting a soft, inviting glow, and the two of you dive into the snacks and games Jack picked out, sharing laughter and watching your favorite Halloween shows.

It’s picture-perfect as the first movie starts to come to a close, and Jack can feel you staring at him.

“You know, you’re the most annoying boyfriend ever, but sometimes.” You pause, popping an Oreo in your mouth. “You do have your moments.”

Jack attacks you for your comment, flipping you both over and ticking your sides. You play fight for a minute before he stops, staring deep into your eyes as you smile.

“So, are you ready to fulfill your promise?” He raises his eyebrow, moving his head down to capture your lips.

You roll your eyes, grabbing his head and pulling him down.

“I’m all yours.”

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 4

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]

You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.

You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 

“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 

“I don't want to risk what I have here.”

“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”

“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”

A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.

“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”

You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”

“And you me, young spark.” 

So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.

————

“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.

“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 

You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.

“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.

“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.

It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.

You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”

Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.

No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?

You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 

“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 

“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”

“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”

“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”

Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 

“And they are for you, of course.”

You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 

“For me?”

“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”

“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”

“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”

Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”

He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.

You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.

“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 

“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 

“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.

Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”

Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.

“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”

“No, no I–”

“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”

You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”

The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 

You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”

Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 

“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 

“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”

You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 

“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”

You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.

“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”

Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 

“You are incredible.”

You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 

“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”

Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”

Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 

Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 

Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 

Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 

Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 

He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”

You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.

“Are you cer–?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 

Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 

Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.

Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 

“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”

“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 

Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 

Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 

Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.

“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 

You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.

Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”

You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”

“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.

————

One month later

Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.

Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 

“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”

Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 

————

The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 

Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 

“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”

You laughed freely. “How is she?”

“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 

“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 

Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”

Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.

You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”

“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”

You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”

Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”

You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”

Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 

The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 

But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 

 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 

“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.

And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 

That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 

A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 

It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 

Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?

Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.

No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 

You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.

Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 

Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 

Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 

They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 

————

Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 

You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 

————

“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 

The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 

“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”

The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”

It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 

It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 

Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 

There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 

Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.

So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 

You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 

But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 

“You look well,” he said. 

You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 

“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 

“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”

Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 

“He still… asks about you,” she added. 

Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”

Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”

The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.

————

“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 

You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 

“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 

You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 

“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”

“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”

“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 

There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 

“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.

“Very much so.”

“And Tamlin is–”

“A friend,” you said quickly. 

“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.

You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 

“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”

“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 

It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 

“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”

Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 

Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 

Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.

“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”

Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 

“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”

You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 

“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”

“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’

“Yes.”

“Do you forgive us?”

Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 

“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 

“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 

A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 

“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 

You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 

But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 

Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 

It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 

“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 

“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 

————

You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 

Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 

To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 

“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 

“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”

“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”

“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.

You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 

“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 

You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 

And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 

————

You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 

“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 

“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.

“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 

Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.

No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 

“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 

Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”

“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 

You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 

“What are you doing here?” you countered.

Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 

“Answer me,” you ground out. 

Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 

“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 

That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 

You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 

The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 

“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 

“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 

You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 

Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”

“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 

“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 

“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 

“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 

Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”

You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”

You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.

And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”

You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 

“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”

Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 

“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 

But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 

“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 

What did she mean by that?

“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 

“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“

“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 

Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”

You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”

Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”

Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 

“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”

“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”

You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 

“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 

“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”

“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 

Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 

“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?

“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”

It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 

“Please Y/N, come home.”

Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 

“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 

Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 

And you hated it. 

“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 

“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”

“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…

They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 

“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.

“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.

“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.

“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.

It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 

A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 

You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 

-------

Part 5>>>

AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!

[biteofcherry]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Steve + “Are you trying to hide from me?”

Thank you for sending the Hoe Fairy my way, through all the trials and dangers of time zones 😆💖

Grateful for it, I wrote something slightly longer than a drabble? Oops.

I'm creating a new dark-ish universe here, so brace yourselves.

New World Order

soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: After the snap and the breaking of the Avengers the world has turned into a darker place than it already was. Being under Steve Rogers protection should be your beacon of light, right? So why does it sometimes feel as if you're caught in a sticky web?

warnings: semi dystopian universe; soft dark Steve Rogers; manipulation; sprinkle of gaslighting; economical/situational power imbalance; dub-con; smidge of breeding kink; sex (p in v);

word count: 3k

Main Masterlist

A small creak startled you. Your body tensed and jerked, the jars in your arms almost falling to the floor. You held your breath, tightening your hold on the precious cargo.

The sound came from the other room, the one anyone from the compound could’ve walked into, so it shouldn’t scare you. Not when you made sure to cover any tracks leading to this special, secret unit, which you’ve discovered a few days ago. 

Slowly, careful not to make any sound that might alert whoever was roaming out there, you put the jars down on the shelf. One by one. Gently. You kept your breath shallow as you did, keeping your movements to the minimal. Then you stayed still, counting down seconds in your head and listening for any sounds from outside. 

As one minute passed into another, then another, until it was seven minutes, then eight, you began to relax slightly. 

No further sounds, steps, nor voices came. You assumed they were gone, whoever it’s been. 

With a little huff of breath, you turned around. The nose of your boot bumped into the box of supplies you sneaked inside. It made little to no noise, but it was enough for the domino to fall down completely.

Something clanked on the other side of the wall. Then the hidden passage in the wall opened. 

Bright daylight filtered through and the broad, dark silhouette filled nearly the entirety of the doorway. 

You lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of light, letting out a small squeak as you curled inwardly. It took you a mere second to recognize who caught you and while your heart eased at the realisation, there was still a part of you that feared the outcome.

“I was wondering what kind of mouse has been hiding in the walls,” came his soft, deep voice. “Turns out it’s my own little scrapper.” 

Captain Rogers walked in. Despite wearing heavy boots he still managed to move quietly. 

The wall closed automatically after him, leaving the two of you in a small room with light fixtures casting pleasant, but artificial glow from the ceiling. 

“Are you trying to hide from me?” His lips curled in a lopsided smile, but the way he slightly tilted his head made you aware that he wouldn’t like it, if you said yes. 

“Of course not,” you let out a nervous laugh, gripping the edge of the counter behind you. 

“Not from you, Steve.” Nervousness still buzzed inside you, spiking as he neared closer and closer. 

Steve Rogers, Captain America, could be a scary motherfucker, if he wanted to. Usually, however, it was reserved for anyone trying to harm people he protected. Or if his subordinates broke his rules in any way. 

He may not be the golden boy you remembered from the very few, rare press conferences and pap photos from a decade before. Too much has happened, since he was the poster of glorified values the government tried to sell. 

First, they stripped him of the crystal areola they put themselves on him. Named him a fugitive and a traitor, for wanting to protect his best friend and fight for justice. 

His other colleagues have turned away from him, leading to breaking of the Avengers formation, which was supposed to protect the people.

Then, when the ultimate threat appeared, the remaining politicians blamed Steve and the other heroes for being unable to defeat Thanos. Tony Stark never returned. So many others have dispersed into dust. For a few years - as the world around you spiralled into dystopian nightmare - phantom governments have been using Captain America and other Avengers as the arguments for why so many things were failing.

Living became hard. Well, even harder than it used to be. People turned jaded and distrustful, so very few still tried to show each other support. Unable to count on governmental help, people have started forming their own little groups. Little communities that took care of each other, but were very wary of anyone else. 

You met Steve when you shyly walked into one of the support groups he was leading. You’ve seen posters inviting people to the meetings, but for quite a long time you stayed away from them, because Captain America or not, these groups always meant selling your soul in some way. 

Steve lured you in with his patience and soft voice, but was firm in pointing out that if you’d like to take some of the provisions back home, or needed aid, you had to do some labour in return. 

You weren’t opposed to that, but you were wary. Still, you agreed. 

Each task seemed more and more important, or that’s what you told yourself, because with each you’ve somehow gotten to work closer and closer to the Captain himself. 

You worked dutifully, which was something Steve didn’t omit to praise you for on a few occasions. Which perhaps was the reason why he assigned you to a team that so often worked closely with him. 

As much as it filled your chest with warmth, your gut tightened each time he got a little closer.

And he always got closer. 

You always sensed his gaze on you. Felt your heart jumping whenever he grazed his fingers along your arm, in a seemingly innocent, sweet gesture. But there was something about his attention, about Steve himself, that made you feel uneasy.

He was charismatic, but also less lenient. 

Caring, but didn’t give second chances. 

Patient, but often merciless in his decisions. 

He was still Captain America, but bitter and darker. Worn-out and dirty, like his suit, with the trace of a star that used to shine hope to those who saw it. Now that faith trailed with darkness. 

When Steve approached you one evening, as your team was scavenging the territory the Captain and his Avengers have liberated from under the influence of bloodthirsty gangs, you felt that quickened pulse and whispers of self-preservation instinct telling you to be wary.

He said that he noticed you watching him. Which rendered you speechless for a moment. If anything, you always caught him looking your way. 

Did he really think you were the one checking him out? Was it why your gazes met every time?

You stuttered with your response, not quite knowing how to explain yourself. Steve offered you that disarming, comforting smile. He touched your hand. Slipped his fingers between yours, ever so slowly rubbing the pad of his index finger between two of yours. 

Such a small, meaningless gesture, but something about it had your cunt clenching in response, as if he was insinuating he wanted to rub you somewhere else. 

Before you managed to explain the situation, Steve turned the tables on you once again. He leaned in and confessed that he missed intimate touch, as well. That it was understandable and he felt honoured you would give him your attention.

Then he simply walked away, joining Natasha to make further decisions regarding the operation; leaving you dizzy with confusion and conflicting emotions. 

Was he right? Were you subconsciously seeking out his attention? Was your sense of unease in his proximity provoked by your attraction to him?

Because Steve Rogers was a very handsome man. From the soft strands of hair he had grown a little longer, to the way his broad chest tapered into narrow hips and possibly the sexiest ass you’ve ever seen. 

From that moment, the Captain often approached you, smiled at you, and touched you however briefly. The pounding of your heart increased each time, your thoughts still clouded. 

When he caressed your cheek one time, while having just returned all dirtied and splattered with blood from a mission abroad, your breath stuttered. He asked you to help him out with patching some bruises and you didn’t find the strength in you to deny a request from a wounded man. Captain America at that. 

He took you to his quarters. At Steve’s command, the AI closed the door after you. Your fingers trembled as Steve guided you how to unzip and take off his suit (since his shoulder throbbed so hard, he seemingly couldn’t do it himself). 

Steve’s fair skin was indeed marred with bruises and a few cuts, which you cleaned and patched. In response to your breathless “I better leave” after you were done, Steve slid his big hands onto your hips and softly asked you to stay. 

Perhaps it’s been too long since you kissed anyone. Or maybe his grip on you tightened enough for the fear of repercussions freezing you in place. 

With a tiny whimper, you gave in to his demanding lips and wandering hands. Despite your brain screaming at you to run away, your heart rate accelerated with pleasure, quickly drowning out the fear.

Steve had you sinking down on his thick cock right there, while he still sat in the chair and his suit was barely pushed past his hips. He groaned praises at how good you felt; how hot it was to feel your tight cunt stretching around him; how sexy you sounded struggling to take it all.

Even with some of your brain cells fighting against it, your whole body surrendered to Steve and the pleasure he drew out of you over and over again. 

Maybe he was right all along and you were starved for intimate contact. 

Maybe you were choosing to let him take you, so he wouldn’t hurt you or your family in any way. 

Later, as you laid in Steve’s arms, you debated with yourself how good it felt to be held and protected, and that maybe it was worth following Steve’s subtle commands. 

He took you again in the morning. On your side, sliding into your sore pusy from behind. When you hissed that it hurt, Steve slowed down, but didn’t stop. He distracted you by arousing other parts of your body - rolling and pinching your nipples, sliding his fingers between your lips and fucking your moth with them, using his wet digits to rub your clit. 

Both of you returned to your duties afterwards, but in the evening Steve simply wrapped an arm around you and greeted you with a kiss on your temple. Then guided you back to his quarters.

He talked to you about everything, asked about your past, as well simply about your day. 

But not once did he ask, if you wanted to have sex with him. 

As the days passed, the less brave and determined you were to reject him. Especially not after Steve started coming over to your quarters, to meet your parents and play this whole thing, as if you really were a couple.

So if he was this sweet and supportive, why did you still fear displeasing him in any way? 

“I mean I’m not hiding at all.” Your speech quickened slightly, as you explained your actions. “I may have hoped no one would find this spot that quickly. I would tell you about it, I was going to. But first I needed to, um, I wanted to-”

“Easy, honey.” Steve cupped your cheek.

He ran his thumb along your lip, cooing at you softly. 

He didn’t look angry, nor suspicious. Which lessened your worries. 

“So you found one of Tony’s panic rooms.” Steve took a quick look around. “Not many people know about their existence. Not many can find them.”

“It was actually an accident,” you laughed at that, remembering how you stumbled when changing light bulbs in a weird fixture in the main lounge room and instead of breaking the mirror on the wall the pressure of your fall activated sensor in the wall, opening the passage to this room. 

You told Steve the story, watching mirth form crinkles around his eyes. He kissed your forehead softly, before pulling away. Not enough to leave much space between your bodies. 

“And why are you storing provisions here?” He glanced at the jars and cans you stacked on the few shelves. 

“Just in case. We have a storage and everything is rationed generously, but-” your gaze dropped as you mumbled- “somemayhavebeenstolen.”

“What was that?” Steve’s tone chilled and you felt the hair on your nape standing to attention. 

With two fingers, he tilted your chin up. Blue eyes bore into yours, a Captain’s command in them snapped you into obedience without an order falling from his lips. 

“I think I’ve noticed someone sneaking out some portions. Often.” You admitted. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t suffer much loss, in case that person continued to steal.”

“Why haven’t you reported it?” Steve frowned, his hold on your chin turning into an unpleasant pinch. 

“Because the person I should report to first, is the one who takes it.” You also tried to convince yourself that maybe Walker simply was giving it away to someone in need. 

“You could’ve told me.” Steve pointed out, his frown deepening in displeasure. 

“But you always talk about the importance of chain of command,” you blurted out.

Which actually surprised Steve. His eyebrows arched up and then his disapproval was shifting into amused satisfaction once again.

“You’re so dutiful, honey.” Steve’s grin made you gulp nervously. 

His gaze slowly trailed down. When it returned to your face there was a possessive glint in the blue irises. A hot jolt stroke down your spine, pooling in your lower belly with heat in preparation for what was to come.

Because even if your lips wanted to part on a pitiful No, you knew Steve would take anyway. And he’d make sure your body was on board with his desires. 

“Why don’t you continue your impeccable service for your Captain, huh?” Steve dragged the zipper of your jacket down. 

It was butter soft brown leather; once belonging to Steve, but since it was too big on you, he graciously encouraged you to cut and sew it, so it fit you better. 

Steve parted the sides of the jacket, exposing your chest. One move was enough to yank down the stretchy top you had underneath. Your breasts spilled out and you clenched your fingers on the edge of the counter, forcing yourself not to cover yourself, even though you felt shy. 

Steve cupped your breasts with his hands; squeezed them and kneaded gently. The coarse fabric of his fingerless gloves provided additional sensation. He rolled one nipple under his thumb; pinched the other. His mouth swallowed each little moan of yours. 

He drew out a whine out of you as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, at the same time unzipping your jeans. Steve knelt down to take off one of your shoes and pull your leg free from the pant leg. Enough to have you spread for him as wide as he wanted. 

“Umm-” you swallowed hard as Steve stretched to his full height. 

He was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. Sometimes, when he had you in his arms, it truly made you feel safe. Other times it scared you; made you quickly comply. 

Steve picked you up so easily, sitting you on the narrow counter and standing between your legs. 

“I don’t have any more pills,” you revealed. “Contraceptives, I mean. Bruce said it will take a few weeks for the production to be finished, after that one ingredient turned out to be spoiled.”

Steve met your eyes. He listened to what you were saying, nodding his head intently as you spoke, but still unzipped his suit and freed his cock. 

You couldn’t help it, your gaze flicked down. Seeing it almost daily didn’t diminish the awe of the cock a primal part of your brain declared perfect. Your pussy clenched, growing wetter in preparation for what was inevitable. 

Steve’s hand closed around his girth and he gave a few pumps before guiding the angry-red tip into your hole. 

He slid inside with a groan. Your own choked cry responding. 

When he met slight resistance due to your position, Steve hooked his arms beneath your knees and pulled your legs upwards. Your ass tilted and your upper body angled backwards. It allowed him to sink fully in, until you felt that unpleasant pressure against your cervix and his balls met your buttocks. 

Then, as he bottomed out in your unprotected pussy, Steve regarded your words.

“Slight inconvenience. But we’re skilled in adjusting to new situations and challenges.” He rested his forehead against yours; his voice growing more raspy and breathless. “If fate wants us to have a child, then we will rise to that blessing as well.” 

He rocked his hips into you, his pelvis grazing your clit. You squeaked, bracing your hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

“Fuck, honey.” Steve withdrew a few inches then slowly thrust back in. “Your sweet cunt is so tight and wet for me.” 

It was tight, because he hadn’t prepared you thoroughly - sometimes it was a blessing, because there were other times when Steve was so focused on making you soaked that he turned you into an overstimulated mess. 

Also because his dick was so fucking thick. 

“My perfect pussy. Isn’t it?” Each stroke was a purposeful, unrushed torment, so that you felt those inches penetrating you. Owning you. 

“Y-yes, Steve. It’s yours,” you mewled when he poked your cervix again. 

“It was made to be filled, honey.” Steve’s pace started increasing. “Its purpose is to take my cock and milk every last drop of my cum, until your womb swells with it.”

There were protesting voices in your head, demanding that you shake your head no and that you tell him you didn’t want to get pregnant. But they never made it past the barrier of voices supplying that you always dreamed of having a family and that Steve would take good care of you. 

Even if the objections somehow made it onto your tongue, the moans and cries Steve was eliciting with each thrust and filthy word deformed them into agreement. 

“That’s it, honey. Taking your Captain so well. Going to take all my cum and thank me for it.”

[somewhereincairparavel]

just thinking about how Jason grace had his entire life molded from the day he was born, nothing in his life was authentic, even his own name was an offering to appease a goddess.

he also died being so distant from everyone he knew (don't get me wrong, I know he was friends with the 7, but If I'm being realistic here and go by canon, only Leo and Nico were actually "close" with Jason, and maybe Percy a bit) I mean, Annabeth took a long time to warm up to Jason and didn't trust him, Hazel never quite forgave jason for mistrusting nico (I'm still a lil bitter about this one lol bc she easily forgave Leo simply bc he's Sammy's great grandkid, and Leo's kinda the one who initiated the suspicion in the first place yet she got so mad at Jason for simply laying out the arguments and exerting caution?? Yeah I know she was upset that her brother was in danger but she never even gave Jason a chance even after nicos rescue, I'm not tryna blame Leo or anything but I think they BOTH should've been forgiven equally, esp since Jason's encouragement in house of hades fuelled nico to break out of his shell), Frank saw of Jason as more of a hero and looked up to him (still avenged his death tho so big W), Piper dumped him and canonically was outwardly bitchy/a little hostile to him after the breakup.

EVEN coach hedge and mellie were such jerks to him bc they assumed HE dumped Piper. Still wished Piper made it clear to them that the break up wasn't Jason's fault but ofc she didnt. TOA Piper is such an L

He never saw Leo again and never got to spend the summer with Nico in camp half blood like he planned to. His dad is a jackass and didn't shed a single tear at his death, his sister had her own life and he felt like she didn't need him anymore.

Reyna, Jason's childhood friend grew distant from him bc of her romantic feelings + the whole Venus mess (which is no fault of her's tho, mind you)

He never felt "at home" in camp Jupiter even after he got his memory back because all he did over there was military duties.

I don't think he got his full memory back properly either because, Percy had the gorgons blood but he didn't. I'm speculating this because he still felt very disconnected to Camp Jupiter and Rome.

He never got to do what he wanted, and even if he succeeded in defeating Caligula, jason STILL never would've gotten freedom, since he promised the minor gods that he'd build temples on their behalfs, and was Prontifex Maximus. He made a diorama and everything.

His Greek friends never made it to his funeral. They never got to say goodbye.

and as Apollo noted, he died with his fingers pointing, like he was still telling them all to escape without him. His chest was spewing out blood and jason still plucked up the energy to tell tempest to get Apollo and Piper to safety.

Jason Grace was born a Roman soldier, and died a Roman soldier, full circle. He never became a grandpa to his and piper's grandchildren like he wanted to.

[qaxqxd]

JOYRIDE

♡: Logan Howlett x Deadpool!f!reader Genre: Smut (Readers advised, 18+ content ahead.) Warning: Mention of, bondage, oral (receiving and giving), unprotected sex (p in v), some praising and degrading, orgasms denial, overstimulation, fingering, some light teasing from Logan, creampie, cussing, sex with some plot, no mention of y/n, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language) Word count: 2.3k A/n: deadpool reader and wolverine sort of outta character tbh Summary: The car is not the only thing you’re riding. (Takes place during the scene where they fought in the car)

The car drove through the forest as you made little ‘thwups’ noises pretending to be Spider-man. “Stop it.” The metal ding-dong man grumbled. A little saddened by the request, you processed to make one last ‘thwups’ noise before stopping.

You didn’t like the silence in the car, so you decided to try to hold up a convo with Wolvie. “So, if they could fix your world. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get outta here?— Some rubbing alcohol shots? Maybe a wiper fluid chaser?” You snicker.

“What s’did you say?” He cocked his head towards you. Which sent slight shivers down your back, but heated your core. “I said, when you get back, what are you gonna do?” You repeated. “No before that.” He mumbled.

“If… they could fix your world?” You hesitated to say.

The car abruptly stops as Wolvie pulls the brakes. He glared at you, daggers sent your way. If looks could kill you’d probably be dead, even with your rapidly healing abilities.

“What do you mean ‘if’?” He spoke with a deadly tone. “I mean—” He cuts you off. “You lied to me! You don’t have a fucking clue if they can help fix things, do you?” He muttered. “No-? I mean— OH FUCK! FUCK.” You shouted in pain.

His adamantium claws digged into your thigh painfully. “I DIDN’T LIE—!” He cuts you off again. “YOU LIED!” He exclaimed. “NO! I MADE A EDUCATED WISH.” You proclaimed. He frowned at you like it was the dumbest thing you’ve said so far.

You really had no idea if they could, but you really needed him. Your world was dying, because of this hot metal shitbag who decided to play hero and dies in your world. So you needed a replacement. Who knew the replacement would be a total jerk?

Damn, at least he was still hot even when he was yelling at you. Your panties if not already not were soaked.

You both went silent for a bit, before you started speaking again. “Because I need you.” You huffed quickly pulling out a photo of your friends. “This. This is why. Right here.” You pointed at the picture.

“Because If we don’t do anything, they die.” You paused for a second trying to catch your breath, and trying to ignore the painful digging on your left thigh. “I don’t know anything about saving worlds, and why would I care? Because my entire world is right here in this picture.” You rasp.

He just glared at you, fuming. “It's— only nine people, and I have no idea how to save it alone. I know how to fucked people up for money, but you YOU know how to— well at least the other Wolverine did— AGH.” You yelped as he dug in deeper in your thigh. 

“Well I guess I’m stuck with the worst one!” You ranted. “Did you say you made an educated fuckin’ wish?” He growled. “They call me the merc with the mouth, they don’t call me truthful jimmy blowjob of Saskatoon.” You stated.

He pulled his claws out of your thigh, leaving a deep crimson puddle behind it. “One more word.” He huffs. “Please, give me one.” Wolvie scolded. You paused for a second.

“Gubernatorial” And quickly flinched at him almost punching you. “Y’know what? You’re a fucking joke. No wonder the Avengers didn’t take you, or the X-Men.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half wit-moron.” He paused for a bit to breathe.

“I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick. In my entire life, and that says a lot, because I’ve been alive for more over two-hundred fuckin’ years. And I’ll tell ya’, that bald chick was right ‘bout one thing. You will NEVER save the world. YOU couldn’t even save a RELATIONSHIP WITH A GODDAMN STRIPPER. 

MOTHERFUCKER I wish I could say you die alone. BUT IT IS GOD’S BEST JOKES THAT YOU CAN’T DIE, AND HAVE THAT ON ALL OF US.” He shouted, hitting his fist on the car roof.

You stayed quiet, processing every little hurtful detail he just threw at you.

“You got nothin’ to say? Mouth?” He scoffed in your face. You both went quiet, only the sound of his breathing was audible. “I’m going to fight you now.” You huffed. He laughed bitterly in your face. “Oh are you?—” Your fist hits his face, and his nose starts dripping.

He hits you multiple times in the face, before you two go on a whole kicking and punching situation with his claws out too. He quickly ties you up to the seat and he claws you. You quickly kick him out of the vehicle, trying to unbuckle yourself.

He got launched outside the windshield, and you climbed to the back. God, the Honda Odyssey was a nice car. Too bad Nicepool wasn’t getting it back in mint condition, but I don’t think he would’ve mind.

Wolvie jumped back in the car pushing his claws pushing into you again, ouch. He pushed you outside the car through the sunroof, and you weren’t going to let that slide. So you jumped back into the car through the window, with the baby knives in your hands.

This time you were on top of him pinning him against the seat. I mean it wasn’t a bad spot to be in. You could feel him underneath your already drenched clothing. “The fight makin’ your eggplant rise, Wolvie?” You teased him, by pressing against his clothe bulge.

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” He sneered back. As he pushed you onto the seat. He grabbed the knives out of your hand and threw them out. He used the seatbelts to tie your hands together, and you both calmed down for a bit.

Man, the position you were in right now was sort of hot. You could feel your core begging him for it. You know he could smell the arousal from you, he always was when he first met you. You were a horny sonofabitch.

He’s been trying to ignore it this whole time, but he's done with that bullshit. “Quick question, is it made out of metal?” You broke the silence. “What?” He grumbled. “Your dick, because if it is—” He pulled the mask off just a bit to see your nose and mouth, and pulled you in for an aggressive kiss.

His tongue discovering your whole mouth. You didn’t hold back either, engaging with his tongue. He had his hand on your hips sliding to unbuckling your pants. Once he did, he saw your damp panties.

It was a pretty pink color with a small bow in the front. He almost thought it was a little cute. Hell, you were so soaked for him. He peels off your underwear to reveal your puffy cunt. He pulled off his gloves with his teeth and inserted two digits into you.

You squeal at the sudden push. He didn’t need lube or anything because of how soaking wet you were. His fingers curl at you clenching onto him. His finger pumped in a rough circular motion. “All wet from me?” he groans, his pants tighten. “Don’t let it get to you, wolf boy.” You grinned, it was getting tougher to breathe as you could feel your first orgasm.

Once Logan felt you getting too close, he withdrew his fingers. You let out a pout. “What the fuck, dickhead?” Your cunt was pulsing for his touch. You tried squeezing your thighs together to make some friction. He let out a bitter chuckle.

You knew how ridiculous you must look right now. He pulled your legs apart as he inserted his fingers again. Repeating the same pumping motion just to pull out again at the brink of your orgasm.

He was teasing you, and he loved every moment of it. He kept your legs apart, making sure you couldn’t create any friction at all. You had to sit there shaking, as you needed a release so bad. Even the slightest bit.

You knew that fuckers was trying to get you to beg for it. You cussed at him everytime he withdrew his fingers when you were close. “Don’t wanna talk now, huh?” He laughed. “Fuck. You.” You sneered at him.

Your hands were still tied to the seatbelt. He flicked your clit, making you jolt from the sensation. His face got close to your puffy folds and he blew cold air onto it, making you arch. You felt a warmth entering your folds.

His tongue explored your folds in and out. You came immediately at the feeling, and heard him chuckling. He didn’t let you ride it out; he just kept on going. Your thighs trembled at him eating you out.

He did not need to be this good at it, it made you feel dizzy from the feeling. He looked at you with desire in his eyes. “God, Wolvie, you are an animal.” You spoke with a tremble. He ripped another orgasm from you this time letting you ride it out.

He wiped his face from your slick and unbuckled his own pants. Your jaw almost dropped by the size of it. It was fucking hugh. “Oh my honey buns!! How do you expect that to fit inside— mphm!” He covered your mouth, “It’ll fit.” He angles himself to your entrance.

He slides into you with ease and a soft moan escapes your lips and that was his trigger. Your legs straddle against his hips. His hips buckle against you. He lets you adjust to him before he starts pounding into your weeping cunt.

This man was going to ruin every man for you. The way he's grinding against you endlessly got you drunk on him enough. Strings of moans and satisfaction left your mouth. He held the fat of your ass, while his other hand was pushing down on your stomach.

“Look at you, struggling to talk, hm?” He grunted, he had that shit eating grin on him. As much as you wanted to say something it was hard real hard. “F—uck, fuck, fuck, Wolvie.” You spat his name out. He felt your clenching and how deliciously you were squeezing his cock.

He rocks his hips into you, as his pace is relentless. The blood rushes into your head as your third orgasm is pulled. His cock covered by your slick. “Aren’t you just a slut? Coming on my cock like that.” He scolded.

His claw came out and you flinched. “Calm down, bub.” He hissed, he cut the seatbelt off of you. Your hands were finally free, you moved them around to wake them up after being in the same position for a long time.

He pushes your head down, “Ah, open.” He grunts, you comply, planning to bite his dick off. Which your plan completely foils, “If you bite it off, I’m not letting you cum.” He added, you made what seemed to be a grumble noise.

But your mouth stuffed with his cock, who knows. He pushes your head deeper into his girth. Your tongue wrapped around his length. It was quite salty, groans and grunts escaped from his mouth as your head bobs.

You could tell he was getting close by the way he pushed your head down further, almost getting you to gag on it. He eventually releases down your throat, having you choke on it a little. It had a salty and bitter taste, but it wasn’t so terrible.

You found his mouth pressed against yours, again. His rough yet somewhat passionate kiss, led you on top of his body. You both let go to catch your breath, and you felt his cock hit your back.

‘Fuck’ you cursed mentality. It was hard, again. He lifted your hips up where your cunt met his cock again, and it perfectly kissed your cervix. You let out a harsh moan, and instinctively started to grind on him.

He held his hand around your hips, basically guiding your hips in a motion. “Right there, princess.” He grunted. Your thigh trembles from the overwhelming sensation. You don’t even know if you could come again.

Even though your body rapidly regenerates, you still get tired. Unlike this mad man, he could go on forever. You push those thoughts away as you try to give him one last orgasm. The circular motion began to pick up speed.

Your hips sway against him and your cunt bouncing on top of his length. Your hands on his chest while your head limps forwards. He could tell you were getting desperate from how sloppy you were moving.

Yeah he might have tried killing you multiple times after your “Educated Wish” situation, but he was still a gentleman. Having a soft spot for women even if it means including you. “Where do you want it, princess?” He huffed which drew you back to reality.

“God, Inside, please.” You whined. You came for the fourth time, and as your walls clench onto his cock. His warm seed fills you, painting your pretty walls. Making a mess on his lap. You instantly fall asleep on top of him.

Your snores, making him realize you were knocked out. He pulled out and a whine escaped your lips, losing the warmth that he provided. He was a gentleman enough to redress you. He decided he’ll figure out what to do with you tomorrow.

He tried pulling you away from his chest, but you held on tight, so he gave up and fell asleep with you on him anyways.

[lovegasmic]

WE ARE THE STRONGEST.

OLD MASTERLIST, FIND THE NEW ONE IN MY PINNED

JJK MASTERLIST.

꒰ ★ : nsfw ꒱꒰ ♡ : sfw ꒱ ꒰ works from prev blogs here ꒱

EVENTS

ITS A MATCH! ( pseudo kinktober )

AUS / SERIES

★ mafia boss sukuna

★ bff satoru

+ 2 CHARACTERS

★ fucking during work hours

first time hit it raw

twenty four seven

cookin’ in the kitchen, and im in the bedroom

working overtime [ toji, sukuna, kento ]

call back later !

seven minutes in heaven

academic rivals ft satosugu

♡ passenger princess

KENTO

SATORU

   ★ daddy’s best friend — Satoru is tired of jerking off to his friend’s daughter, this time he will make you his.

   ★ BFF ! ( best friends who fuck ) — Satoru casually suggests you and him have sex. that's what friends are for.

★ model!satoru

semi public

mutual overstimulation

sixtynine

messy make out

pretty in a skirt

handjob

inappropriate

shy gf

teasing him

threesome w bff satoru overstimulate him to tears

best friend Satoru after a breakup

when ovulating

reversed bff satoru

♡ jealous jealous w bff satoru

SHOKO

she eats you out

SUGURU

   ★ brother’s best friend — Suguru has known you for a while thanks to his best friend Satoru, but that doesn't take off the fact that he still fantasizes about your pretty body, a night sleeping in your home he finds his opportunity.

SUKUNA

★ foxian reader

mafia boss sukuna + breeding his enemy's daughter

mafia boss sukuna + prostitute reader

tit fuck

nice n' wet

facefucking

bully!sukuna — ∅ — ∅ — ∅ — ∅

♡ giving you a ring

TOJI

   ★ cry, baby ; toji loves to watch you cry.

   ★ my strange addiction — being sent to handle a "low rank" curse by yourself wasn't the smartest idea, especially when said curse's name is toji.

   ★ hot babes in your area — Toji suggests you both start an ⋆nlyfans

★ living together

jealous + semi public

lactating

CHOSO

   ★ keep it in the family — choso finds you making out with another guy merely days after your break up w yuuji, so he must avenge his lil bro.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒋𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔

so, I saw something similar on tiktok and wanted to write it, credits to the person who came up with it.

summary - being a new member of the largest superhero team, you'd think that things would go well, but everything is revealed when christmas rolls around.

warning - angst.

the gif and header I use isn't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

It was rare for the two teams to merge, but every December around Christmas time they would, and with you being the newest member of the Avenger gang. This would be your first-time celebrating Christmas altogether. You watched curiously as they all hung large socks along the fireplace, happy chatter filling the air. “What are those?” You tilt your head.

“Stockings.” You look at Natasha as she replies, “It’s a Christmas tradition where you put small presents inside the stockings of those you care for.” You nod, and your eyes light up. 

“Oh cool!” For the rest of the day you intently listen and observe to pick out the perfect things for them, and over the course of the next few weeks. You slowly begin to fill their stockings, your eyes would fall to yours and notice how empty it looked. But you had hope, there were still a few more days till Christmas and maybe they just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Except Steve walks in and you notice his hands are full, and how he puts a gift for everyone but you. It was as if you were invisible because he didn’t even look at you. “Oh…” 

You continue to splurge and buy everyone things they like, in hopes that you were wrong about them. You skip out of your room on the big day, excited for your first Christmas. When you enter the room, you notice everyone going to their stockings before their presents and expressing happiness with the items they received and with your own excitement, you head over to your stocking and it feels as though the world has stopped. Your stocking was still empty, you finally realised you really meant nothing to the team. You didn’t blame the X-men for not putting anything in because you had only just met them, but your own team? It hurt, you could feel the tears beginning to brim. 

You quickly blink them away before sitting down next to Jean and give her a soft smile, making sure to keep your emotions away from your face and thoughts. “How are you liking it here?” You gnaw on your bottom lip, turning your gaze to your team handing out their presents. 

“I don’t mind it, how about you? I heard this is your first Christmas?” You could see the questions lingering in her eyes, because anyone would question how you could never have a Christmas, but she never completely asks. 

You nod, “Yes, yes. It’s my first and I don’t know… It’s not what I thought it would be.” You stare off, not receiving any presents alongside the stocking. “I’m uh… I’m just going to go for a walk, I don’t feel so good.” You force a smile and get up, heading outside before you could break down in front of everyone. Once you head outside, you break down. You felt like you’d rather be back where you came from. At least your enemies didn’t forget about you. 

“They are all jerks.” You jump as you hear a gruff voice from behide you, you turn, locking eyes with the one and only Wolverine, a cigar between his lips and his eyes harshly set on you. “Not much of heroes when they brag about it every two seconds.” He pushes off the wall and moves closer to you, something catching your eye as the moonlight shines on his hand. 

You look and tilt your head, wiping your cheeks roughly, “What’s that?” Your mouth falls open when he pulls up a cute stocking decorated with glitter, filled to the brim with a small wrapped present resting at the top. “It’s so cute! Whoever it’s for is very lucky.” You give a soft smile, knowing no one would ever get you anything.

Logan shakes his head. “It’s for you, sweets. Those guys are arseholes, they don’t deserve someone as sweet as you on their team.” You feel your breath hitch as he growls, “Open it, honey.” He hands you the stocking and present, leaning against the wall and puffing on the cigar as he watches you open everything.

You gasp, “Oh my god! This is so beautiful, thank you!” You look at him with tears in your eyes as you open the present on the top, a small adorable wolf necklace sits inside the box. You move closer, awkwardly wanting to hug him but not knowing if that will cross a line. Logan raises a brow, placing the cigar between his teeth as he opens his arms. You launch forward and wrap your arms around him, not knowing how to express the feelings that are bubbling up inside. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, darlin’, now why don’t you look inside the stocking. I had Jean and the other women help choose what we thought you’d like.” You look shocked, wondering why a team that wasn’t yours would care more for you than the one you are currently in. Logan reaches up and wipes a tear that falls down your cheek, “We take care of our own, Y/n.” 

Your bottom lip juts out as it wobbles, and you slowly reach inside, sobs escape you as you find everything you like and some new things you’ve wanted to try. “Oh my god…” You feel like you are loved and wanted, but then an overbearing sadness erupts throughout you as you realise that you are stuck with people who don’t want you. 

“That is not true, Miss L/n.” You turn and notice the whole X-men team are there, giving you soft smiles. “I have ordered for your things to be transferred. As Logan said, we take care of our own and you, Miss L/n are one of us.” 

All you could utter are the words thank you. Maybe your first Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 11

James "Bucky" Barnes + Choking and breathplay

Mutant male reader goes crazy 🗣️ 🗣️ 🗣️

Reader kinda based on nightcrawler, cuz hes cool, except hes got five fingers and normal feet. This also means the reader is blue, has fur, and has a tail.

On the shorter side, but oh well.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

It wasn’t everyday that the Avengers and the X-men worked together, but it happened enough that you and Bucky got somewhat close, as you worked side by side most of the time. Having skills that worked better together than the others caused that, and it was hard not to be attracted to Barnes, with his strong build and that damn arm of his.

The first time hed picked you up by your tail you had almost clawed his eyes out, it didn’t hurt too much as your tail didn’t work like that, but it had surprised you. At some point as you two started working together and hanging out outside of missions, your tail would find its way wrapped around him in one way. Be it his thigh, his wrist, or even his hand like some kind of sweet gesture.

Neither of you questioned it too much, or questioned as you guys over time started sitting closer and closer, or how Bucky would run his fingers through your short blue fur. That was to say that none of your teammates were shocked when you two started dating, some were even surprised you weren’t already dating when you told them, because of how close you guys were.

That was how you found yourself in your current position, Bucky’s strong hands, both flesh and metal, digging into the fat of your blue thighs and clenching hard enough you were sure there were bruises under your fur. Your fangs dug into your lip to stop your forked tongue from licking across them as you leaned back, supporting your weight on Bucky’s thighs as you rode him.

It had started out as a normal date, though maybe a tad bit too traditional for you. With Bucky bringing you a bouquet of flowers, taking you out to dinner, with you in disguise of course, then going for a stroll, before coming back to his apartment. The plan had only been to watch a movie and eat some snacks, but one thing had led to another, and you ended up tumbling into his bedroom as you kissed and groped at one another.

So here you were, riding your boyfriend as praise spilled from him in deep needy croons. The noises he released had your tail lashing side to side like an agitated cat as you ground down, making sure to grind him into your prostate. The act had your eyes falling shut as you moaned, and it was only when Bucky’s hands gripped almost painfully at your thighs that you forced them open again.

Looking down you almost stuttered to a stop as your eyes widened, mouth falling open to apologize as you saw the man beneath you. Your tail had curled around his throat and squeezed, not enough to kill or even knock unconscious, but enough to cut off enough oxygen that it left even a super soldier dizzy.

You were about to loosen your tail and crawl off of Bucky, but he puled you back down by your thighs and mouthed a lewd “please” as he couldn’t find it in himself to speak. If you had pupils, would they have grown big like a cat, a less than human noise leaving you as you tighten your tail, much to Bucky’s joy.

Bucky gasped for breath as you continued to ride him, his hips pushing up into yours. It was clear from how his head was falling back into the pillow and his mouth was open in silent moans that he was enjoying it even more than you were, so you made sure to squeeze his throat like he wanted, giving him short moments to gasp for breath before gripping again.

Bucky came before you did, a high pitched choked off whine leaving him as he thrust up hard enough into you that his lower body lifted off the bed. You moaned softly at the feeling and released his throat at last, but there wasn’t much time to think about it before Bucky was gripping your own hard length, twisting and jerking his hand to help you finish.

One of the reasons you liked riding him was the fact that you wouldn’t get fluids into your fur, another was the fact that Bucky looked so good covered in your cum after you’d shoot it over his chest. Flopping down on top of him, you rub carefully at his sore throat even though his healing already was taking away the bruising left behind by your tail.

When he mentions you’ll have to try this again next time, you just snort and cuddle into his neck, your tail curling lazily from side to side in a content motion. You’ll get clean later, and then you’ll make Bucky help you scrub your fur all over as payback for filling you up like that, not that you mind, but he doesn’t need to know that.

[gabrielleyueerrrrr]

A Theory about King:

In AVA Ep.10 “The Ultimate weapon”, when we see King pushing Purple away from the Minecraft staff, we all thought King betrayed Purple because after fulfilling his mission Purple was no longer useful to King.

But what if King did not mean this way?

What if he was actually trying to protect Purple?

We all know that King was attempting to destroy Minecraft with his staff to avenge his dead son, but since he was physically in Minecraft himself, he would die together with the world as well. We see no attempt of him trying to escape Minecraft after creating a huge black hole in the sky using his staff, and he has plenty of time to do so. Given his distraught mental state after his son’s death, it’s reasonable to speculate that King was suicidal——he wanted to take down Minecraft with him before reuniting with his son.

Based on this assumption, pushing away Purple was an attempt to protect the kid: he wanted Purple to stay away from him, leave him and leave Minecraft, so that the kid wouldn’t die along with him. Also, Purple got up right after he was struck into the ground and he was perfectly fine, so King likely didn’t mean any harm to the kid.

Similarly here, maybe King was actually hoping Purple could be captured by Green and Yellow so that Purple could be with these kids outside Minecraft, safely, when his end comes.

Now, I’m not trying to justify King’s actions towards Purple, he did manipulate, deceive, threaten Purple and actively tried to kill the kid later on. But I think that even when he was being a huge jerk, he did genuinely care about Purple, though he probably didn’t realise it himself. He cared about Purple even before he saw the resemblance to his own son in the kid.

Some people purposely ignore their own well being when grieving because they think that they didn’t deserve to be happy without their deceased loved ones. Similarly, King treated Purple harshly because he didn’t want to get himself attached to the kid, he thought it would be unfair to his son if he moved on.

After Ep.30, Mango finally allowed himself to live again, and be happy, for Purple.

[crazyk-imagine]

Okay, so, I have an idea. Wade Wilson with a tall S/O (any gender is fine, but preferably fem) that can and does pick him up?

Tall Girls Rule and Wade Drools

Pairing: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson x Tall!reader

Characters: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson, Tall!reader, James "Bucky" Buchanon Barnes, Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" Phimister, Yukio, Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: Fluff, Wade is a warning himself, puns, dorkiness, terrible jokes and nicknames, reader lifts wade whenever, wade likes being babied, everyone likes and doesn't like him, they never know what to do with him, the avengers did not ask for wade but here he is, mention of alcohol or at least drinks, surprisingly no mentions of chimichangas, wade is a slut, reader does not fall for his antics, small xmen and avengers cross over, mentions of the forbidden unicorn

Word Count: 1k

Also based off this post

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You're happy to hang out with your friends, even if the only reason you know them is because of your idiotic and chaotic boyfriend.

He still amazes you even though you two have been together for so long now.

-

Before the party, you were smoothing out the skirt of your dress and a slight breeze came through the window.

You’re worried with how thin the fabric feels, it might be too late to change.

“Hey babe?” You call out for him, not knowing where he wandered off too.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

“We vetoed that one two weeks ago,” you answer while adjusting your watch.

“Right, right. Yes, my anaconda don’t because she’s got the big buns hun?”

“That ones a little long.” You enter the kitchen and find him standing on the counter, making a mess. “Wade,” you sigh.

You walk towards the counter, placing your hands by his feet; seemingly trapping him in. “You’re not supposed to have sugar before we go out. You know you basically turn into a crackhead.”

“I take offense to that because, sugar–”

You mutter under your breath, “jesus.”

“- to be a crackhead, means you have to be on crack or have it in your veins.”

Your right eye twitches as he makes the motion to his elbow. “Did Peter show you that? I told him to ban you from tiktok.”

“Jecuze!”

You roll your eyes and pull him off the counter, tossing him over your shoulder.

-

You pause at his warm hands caressing your behind. “Wade.”

“Yes, juicy- I mean baby?”

“Stop playing with my ass.” You start walking towards your shared room once more.

“I thought you liked it when I played with you. You weren’t complaining last night.”

You toss him onto the bed and grab your earrings. “Shut up.”

You stand back, checking yourself out in the mirror. “Okay, be honest.”

“I’d totally-”

“No.” You turn to face him. “Can you see my nipples through this dress?”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t worry, but I’m sure they’re still there.” He leans back and looks you up and down. “If you want, I can give you an inspection. Come on,” he pats his lap. “Give papa some sugar.” 

You roll your eyes. “Go grab your unicorn and jerk off, you horndog.”

He whines and lets out a noise as he catches his stuffed friend.

-

You glance up from the table and turn to find Wade moving around like an insane person.

Part of you regrets dragging him out with you but another part of you doesn't and seeing him goof around to annoy Logan and Bucky makes you feel better. 

You turn back to Ellie and Yoko only to furrow your brows after finding them stare at you. "What?"

"Are you ever going to stop staring at him?" The dark haired girl asks.

"What's wrong with me looking at him?" 

"You stare at him like a lost puppy."

"I do not," you scoff.

Yoko places a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, letting her know she needs to calm down and watch what she says.

Ellie doesn't mean to but sometimes her brain and her mouth aren't always in tune with one another and it leads to fights.

You glance back at Wade, watching as he messes around with Scott too. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Okay?"

You purse your lips, unsure if this is something you should be confessing. 

You decide against the logical part of your brain and tell the girls what's been on your mind.

Wanda makes her way over, dragging Natasha with her.

"Sorry, ladies," the shorter haired woman tells you.

"Our favorite bartender was dealing with a weirdo and we didn't get our drinks until now."

You all chuckle knowing she was referring to your boyfriend, who still stands beside America's sweetheart and his best buddy plus the others, annoying the absolute shit out of them.

"I said I was sorry but what was I supposed to do?"

Wanda turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention onto her. "Don't listen to Nat, she's joking with you. She’s actually happy to see him act, sort of, decent. I mean, we all are. He finally got manners."

You give her a small smile and nod, feeling the same way.

"I think that's the first time we all can ever agree on something about Wade," Ellie adds.

You cover your mouth chuckling, "definitely."

-

Wade turns around at the sound of your laughter.

The others can see how his eyes soften behind his mask.

None of them seeing the rainbows and dancing unicorns that envelope you.

"-ade? Wade?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, Mr. All American?"

The blond sighs, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I decided not to listen," he leans closer to whisper, "get a load of this guy, am I right? He's acting like he doesn't know me."

Bucky raises a brow at his behavior, not believing that someone can act the way he does even if he's known to man for a few years, Wade always has a way of surprising people with his antics. 

“Could you stop fawning over your girl for five minutes and chill?” Logan grunts.

Wade pretends to think on it. “Hmm no.”

He runs over to you and throws himself into your lap.

All the girls groan at his entrance.

You chuckle, “Hi honey.”

“Hi sugarplum, you having fun?”

You shake your head.

“Shut up, we were having more fun before you got here.”

He turns away from you. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Yoko stares at him concerned, “is he okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine.” You stand up, carrying him and set him beside Tony, needing him to stay with the boys. “Baby, stay here.”

“But-” He pouts.

“Wade.”

“Fine but if I’m drunk by the time we’re done, don’t blame me.”

"God help us," Logan mutters.

"I am the only God here." He turns away and uses the back of his hand muttering into the distance, whispering, "I'm still Marvel Jesus."

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Best Friends » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky and the reader have a close friendship.

Warnings: Fluff, language, flirting, hugs and kisses, cuddling, pet names (doll)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

You quietly opened Bucky’s bedroom door, closing it behind you. You smiled when you seen Alpine sleeping on her cat tree. You quietly tip toed past the sleeping cat to Bucky’s bed.

“Good morning, Jamie! It’s morning!” You say happily as you threw yourself on his bed.

Bucky groaned, putting a pillow over his head and continued sleeping. You pouted and poked his side making his body jerk.

“What if I was sleeping naked?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t think that would stop me.” You say.

Bucky took the pillow off of his head and looked at you with a weird look on his face.

“You’re fucking weird.” He says.

“You love me!” You grinned.

“You’re right. I do.” He says.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top of him and attacking you with kisses making laugh and squirm. Alpine jumped off of her cat tree and jumped on the bed to get some morning kisses. She let out a squeaky meow to get yours and Bucky’s attention.

“Aww, Alpine wants morning kisses from her daddy.” You smiled, petting her head.

Bucky leaned down to give Alpine kisses and petted her. She started purring with satisfaction.

“Let’s go get coffee!” You say.

Bucky laughed at your cuteness and got out of bed to get dressed. As he was getting dressed, you noticed one of his sweatshirts on the floor. You grabbed it and put it on without him noticing.

“Ok, doll. Are you- is that my sweatshirt?” He asks, looking at the sweatshirt of his that you’re wearing.

“Umm… no.” You lied, trying not to laugh.

“It looks better on you anyways.” He smiles.

Bucky held out his metal hand for you to hold, knowing how much you love his metal arm. You smiled and happily put your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his metal ones. You and Bucky walked into the kitchen hand in hand.

“Morning guys!” You smiled.

“Morning, Y/N!” The Avengers say.

You sat down at the table while Bucky got you two coffee.

“Weren’t you here like 12 hours ago?” Tony asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Why are you here again? Don’t you ever go home?” He asks.

“Why would I go home when Bucky is here?” You smiled.

Bucky put a cup of coffee in front of you and sat down in the chair next to you, wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders.

“How the hell are you two not fucking?” Tony asks.

“Stevie! Tony said a bad word!” You say like a child while pointing at Tony.

“You’re weird.” Tony says.

You squinted your eyes at him, giving him the death glare.

“If looks could kill, you’d be dead right now.” Clint says to Tony.

“That stare is kinda creepy.” Tony says, getting up and walking away.

You giggled to yourself and took a sip of your coffee.

“I think you just scared the shit out of Stark.” Bucky laughs.

“It’s what he gets for calling me weird.” You say.

Soon after that, Bucky had to train recruits with Steve. You just hung out around the Compound while he worked. You were currently in the lounge room on your phone.

“Hey Y/N.” Peter says, walking in the room.

“Hey Peter. What’s up?” You say.

“I was wondering if you wanted to check out the new features on my web shooters.” He says.

“Hell yea!” You say excitedly.

Peter sat down next to you and showed and explained to you what his web shooter can do.

“So what you’re saying is that if I push this button, webs come out?” You asked.

“Yes. Give it a try.” Peter says.

You pushed the button and a web shot out of it. Bucky walked in the room and almost got hit by the web. You and Peter went silent.

“Sorry, Mr. Barnes.” Peter says.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He just walked up to you and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“She’s my best friend. Get your own.” Bucky says.

“Don’t be mean.” You say, playfully punching his back.

“I’ll text you later, Peter.” You say.

“No she won’t.” Bucky says, walking out of the room.

You punched him again. Bucky put you on your feet when you guys got to the hallway.

“What was all of that about, Buck?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He says.

“Wait, are you jealous that I was hanging out with someone who’s not you?” You asked with a playful smirk.

“I don’t get jealous.” Bucky says.

“Aww, you’re so jealous! The Winter Soldier is jealous!” You teased, playfully poking his stomach.

Bucky’s face turned red and he swatted your hand away making you laugh.

“I’ll stop teasing you now.” You say.

“Give me a hug and I’ll forgive you.” Bucky says.

You hugged him and kissed his stubbly cheek.

“Forgive me?” You asked.

“Yes.” He says.

“Good. Now, last one to the gym has to pay for the winner’s lunch!” You say, running towards the gym.

“Oh you’re on!” He says, running after you.

You completely forgot that he’s a Super Soldier and the serum made him run faster cause within seconds he past you and got to the gym before you. Once you got to the gym, you playfully pouted at him.

“I win!” Bucky says triumphantly 

“No fair! You have Super Soldier serum running through your veins to help you! I don’t!” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aww, come here.” He says, opening his arms.

You walked to him and he wrapped his around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Even though I won, I’ll still pay for your lunch.” Bucky says softly.

“Thank you, Buck.” You smiled.

“Anytime, doll.” He smiles.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll