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So, gotta thank @what-is-your-plan-today​ for this little nugget of Amber Weirdness. She mentioned Bucky and Goats, and this is all I have been able to think about for the day. 


Originally posted by myimaginesworld

Bucky ducked out of the hut, and not far off were a head of billy goats, leaping and frolicking in the bountiful Wakanda landscape. What a soft moment, awww. The old solider passed a group of kids chanting “White Wolf, White Wolf” Why? Well because Bucky went from Badass scary ex Winter Soldier for hydra to Mama Wolf with those little dumbass headbutting frolicking kid goats. Know who else he took care of? Thats right Brooklyn Steve, wasnt he like a dumbass always headbutting someone much bigger and stronger then him Kid? (We all know Bucky Barnes be looking out for the little guy, we all love him)

“You know… it might be easier to take care of the herd with two arms” T’Challa is gonna point out the obvious. Vibranium arm, UPGRADE!

Who cares if hes king, Bucky is still gonna give him a bit of a glare. 

“You know how damn hard it is to get goat fur out of metal plates? I dont have all night you know.” 

Kid goat carrying around Wakanda is now a Bucky sport.  

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“You may not remove any part of Project Livewire without permission. It’s against the rules… also, it’s quite rude.Gothic Lolita

Cover art for Black Panther and the Agents of Wakanda #006, “Egregious Autonomous - Part 2”

Art by David Nakayama

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After Civil War, Steve and Bucky and the other fugitive Avengers face a painful past and an uncertain future, while T'Challa assumes the throne of Wakanda and decides his country’s place in the world and his own place in the Avengers’ world.  Our heroes all face their own reckonings with each other and the rest of the world.

Chapter 45:   Our heroes scramble to prepare for a potential alien invasion as the world erupts into chaos. Scott rejoins the team in a desperate effort to protect his family, but Wakanda’s defenses are swiftly penetrated!

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Artist: @darthbloodorange​  [AO3LINK] 
Rating: Teen and Up  
Pairing: Steve Rogers/T’challa
Major Archive Warnings: None 


When Wakanda decides it wants to reach out to the rest of the world, King T'Chaka and the other world leaders agree on an exchange of ambassadors in order to learn more about their respective societies.

The world leaders choose to send Captain America as an ambassador, as the man already had history with Wakanda during WWII.

Steve and Prince T’challa become close as T’challa guides Steve through his exploration of Wakanda and it’s many treasures.

A solo art entry for the @marvelrarepairbang 2019

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A preview of Marvel’s Voices #1


Marvel’s acclaimed podcast series focusing on telling the stories of diverse creators and their unique perspectives becomes a one shot of brand new adventures! The X-Men find their place in the world after declaring a new nation! Killmonger strikes! Moon Girl and Devil Dino return!

Writer: David F. Walker, Chuck Brown, Kyle Baker, Roxane Gay, Anthony Piper, Vita Ayala, Evan Narcisse, Brian Stelfreeze, Geoff Thorne, Method Man, Rob Markman and more…
Illustrator: Brian Stelfreeze, Sanford Greene, Natacha Bustos, Kyle Baker, Ray-Anthony Height, Damion Scott, Luciano Vecchio, Alitha E. Martinez, Anthony Piper and more…
Cover Illustrator: Ryan Benjamin
Release Date: February 19, 2020

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You’ve never been good at sleeping on your own. Luckily all of the Avengers are good cuddlers, and Peter Quill isn’t good at keeping secrets.

A/N: language; a little bit of a Peter Quill x reader but nothing major; this is all just fluff


You’ve never been overly fond of loneliness. For the first three years of your life you were being grown in a test tube. Then, of course, the thirteen years after that were all spent locked up in a very dark room. And when you were about sixteen you were sent to scavenge around a lot of iffy dimensions. For years. Alone. Surrounded by monsters and the cold.

Of course, now you’re fine. Ever since Scott found you in that horrid shit hole of a dimension and pulled you out. Ever since you had moved into the Avengers Compound; which was something you never thought you’d be saying as a former Hydra agent.

It was new and strange. Being in a place that was so warm without even trying. Being surrounded by people that share your fear of the dark and so there are night lights in every room in the base. Let’s face it: there’s nothing more hilariously ironic than walking into the room of the Winter Soldier himself and seeing a night light. Realizing that the famous killer-of-men is turned into a shivering mess by something as trivial as the dark doesn’t really make you very hopeful for your own outcome.

You don’t really need to go to any other dimensions anymore. As that was the sole reason you were made, you half expected to be depressed that you had no real purpose. But you aren’t. You like being a little lazy. You like sitting in a meeting and pretending to offer up your services even though you realize that no random Shield mission is going to send you through to a different dimension.

It seems as though maybe you’ll get a chance at a pleasant life after all. Except for one small issue.

“She doesn’t sleep.” Tony points his spoon at you. “At all. I walk out of the lab, and she’s talking to Bruce about transporting water molecules though the holes in dimensions. I walk into the lab, and she’s building a matter deconstructor. There’s no off button on her!”

“You’re just mad because I was right about the decay rate of calcium during particle shifting.”

“Those bone samples were corrupted and you know it.”

“Hey. Egg heads. Can you two cool it already?” Sam groans. “Seriously. Why does nobody stop them? It’s too early in the morning for this shit.”

Steve turns to look at you from his spot by the stove. “Are you getting enough sleep, Y/N?.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Of course I am. How else would I be so highly functioning?”

“Highly functioning? Yesterday you spent eight hours on the couch watching Top Chef.” Natasha smirks.

“And my research is one step closer to completion because of it.” You grin. “I’m fine, guys. Don’t you think that if I didn’t get any sleep, you’d notice?”

“I mean, you are drinking coffee.” 

“If I were trying to heal insomnia with caffeine I’d look less like me and more like Barnes.” You glance over at him. “No offense.”

“None taken. Pour me another cup, Steve.” He rubs his eyes and holds out his mug.


“Bucky is a very radical example of a possibly less-advanced issue.” Natasha shrugs.  “He’s a mess.”

“I prefer the term disaster guru.” He grins.

“Unless gurus live in sheds and look like raccoons, you are not a guru.”

“Excuse me, Steve would like us to please refrain from insulting his husband at the breakfast table.” Tony clinks his mug with his spoon.

“No, Steve would like you all to shut up and eat your breakfast so that he can go for his morning jog.” He pours Bucky more coffee.

“Y’know, that’s very rude. Unprofessional even. I’m usurping your role as team mascot. I’ll pull off the tight blue jumpsuit better than you anyways. I have the figure for it.”

“Yes, you are quite an ass.”

“Steve said ass!”

You roll your eyes and smirk down at your coffee while they continue to bicker. Eventually everyone starts to finish their food and leave to get started with their daily routines, but you and Steve stay put.

“You can tell me if you’re having trouble.” He says nonchalantly over his newspaper. “I’m not Tony.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that for someone who deals with so many problems, he’s bad at knowing what to say when others have them.”

You sigh. “I mean, sure my sleep patterns are different, but they aren’t anything new.”

“So there have been issues?”

“I wouldn’t call them issues.” You stand up and go to the fridge to pour some orange juice. “It’s just…I was made in a lab. The first three years of my life I was just a sleeping meat sack floating in a giant glass tube. Then I was tossed in a hole in the ground until I was sixteen. Sleeping was rough then too. And then when I started reality jumping, I dunno…it messed with the way that time works in my head. I can’t really explain it. But now I just don’t sleep all that much.”

“That’s unhealthy.”

“No. I don’t even get tired because my brain got all wonky. I mean, I can sleep. But I remember sleep just being so difficult and terrifying, so…why would I do it?”

“Sleep isn’t normally like that. It’s nice enough here.”

“Yeah. Tell that to when you and Bucky wake up in the middle of the night screaming.”

Steve looks down at his paper.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a mean way. But…if you could live perfectly normal without sleep, wouldn’t you? To never get tired and not have to deal with the nightmares anymore?”

He didn’t answer.

“Exactly. I know Bucky would. He hates the taste of coffee. He only drinks it in an attempt to get what I have. A functioning life without sleep.”

“But would you tell me if the lack of sleep was getting to you?”

“Probably not. But you’ll just have to trust me.” You shrug. “I’m fine, Steve. I was on my own for a long time before I came here. I can handle a sleep schedule.”

“Alright. But if it ever starts getting to you-.”

“I’ll consider telling you before I decide not to. Yes, of course.”

Steve looks deadpan at you as Bucky walks in.

“Hey, Barnes.” You grin up at him. “You’re back soon. Did you miss the love of your life that much?”

“Who said Steve is the love of my life?”

“Steve? I was talking about me.” You take a sip of your drink. “Rude ass.”

“I just didn’t realize that we were being open about our hot new love affair, dear.” He kisses your cheek and walks over to Rogers.

“I’ll pretend not to be offended.” Steve chuckles.

“It’s not you, baby. Y/N is just the one dame for me.”

“I’ve been bested it seems.”

You smile as Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to Steve’s lips.

“Really? While I’m right here?” You roll your eyes playfully.

“That’s what you get for falling in love with a gay man.” Steve looks up at Bucky. “Ready to go for a run?”

“Yeah. You done in here?”

“Yep.” He stands. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See ya.”


“You look like shit.”

You glare up at Quill and frown.


“Seriously. Are you alright?” He sits across from you. “You’re pale and grey.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you know exactly how to talk to a lady?”

“Stop avoiding the question.”

You sigh. “I’m fine. Just had a rough night.”

“Rough how?”

You groan at him.

“We’re gonna be here till the end of the month. I’ve got plenty of time to sit here and bother you if you don’t answer.”

“I’ve met you like twice.”

“Don’t pull that shit. Last time we saw each other you saved my life and we got stuck in an escape pod together for like twelve hours. We had to establish a pee corner. I think we’re close enough for you to tell me why you had a bad night.”

You frown. “Just normal stuff.”

“Go on.”

“I’m having trouble sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” He scrunches his nose. “Weren’t you the one who kept insisting you don’t sleep when we were stuck in the aforementioned pod?”

“Yeah, well, all this time I’m spending not moving around dimensions is starting to reset my biological clock.”

Peter nods.

“I think it has something to do with how quickly my neurons fire while I transport, but I haven’t put in the proper research to confirm or deny that theory.”

He nods some more.

“Is this making any sense to you?”

“Y’know what, let’s just say for a second that it’s not.” Peter clears his throat. “How would you explain it to me then?”

You groan.

“Okay. Hold on. Its alright. Listen, I might not get all this fancy neuron stuff, but I do know a thing or two about having trouble sleeping.” Peter holds up his hands. “What part is giving you the trouble? Falling asleep or staying asleep?”

“Falling asleep.” You look away in embarrassment.

“Alright. How come?”

“I dunno.” You wrap your arms around yourself. “I don’t like the dark. And I spent too long being alone…and sleep is just so…”

“Dark and alone?”

You look up at him. “Yeah.”

“So, the dark part is easy. Just keep a light on. There’s no shame in having a night light.”

“And the alone part?”

“Get a sleeping buddy.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I am single.”

“I said sleeping buddy. Not fuck buddy.”

“Who on Earth do you expect me to ask to climb into bed with me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. But if your sleep immunity thing is wearing off, then you need rest. It’s a necessity. Y’know, like in the Jungle Book.”

“The Jungle Book?”

“Yeah. Remember, when Baloo starts singing about the bear necessities?”

“Please tell me you aren’t comparing this very difficult time in my life to a song in a children’s movie.”

“Sleeping is a bear necessity, Y/N. And you are a malfunctioning bear. Like Yogi. You’re Yogi Bear.”

“Y’know what? Keep talking. At this rate I’ll hit myself over the head with a plate and then maybe I’ll get some rest.”


“Are you sure you can handle it, Tony?”

“At the risk of sounding arrogant; I did discover clean energy. I think I can do a few repairs on the Milano.”

“Point taken.” Steve turns into the kitchen. “So can you get it done by the end of the month?”


Sam is halfway through a sandwich when Steve notices him at the kitchen table.

“Wilson. Have you seen Quill anywhere?”

“I think him and Y/N are watching a movie in the lounge.”

“Him and Y/N?” Tony grins. “Ooh la la.”

“Calm down, hot shot.” Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure no one can fall in love with Quill after they have to watch him pee in a potted plant.”

“When did that happen?”

“When they soldered themselves into that escape pod.”

“Oh fun.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’ll go get him.”

He leaves the kitchen and walks down the hall to the lounge.



Steve frowns as he gets to the open door. “Did you just shush me?”

“Yes. Come in.”

He turns into the large living room and freezes.

“You’re gonna wake her.”

Steve gawks. Y/N. No nonsense and no questions Y/N, who constantly defends her sleep schedule, is laying on Quill’s lap, lightly snoring.

“How in the hell did you get her to fall asleep?”

“She said that she can’t sleep when she’s alone. So I put on a movie and told her to just take a nap while I’m here.” Quill lightly shrugs as he runs his hand slowly through your hair. “She went out like a light.”

Tony calls out to Steve from down the hall. “Rogers! Where’d you go? Did you find Quill?”


He and Sam frown and pile into the room behind Steve.

“Holy crap. She’s sleeping?”


“Quill says she only sleeps when there’s someone else in the room.”


“Probably because she spent all that time alone in a Hydra cell.” Steve frowns.

“She could have asked for company sooner.” Sam crosses his arms.

“Y/N? No way. She’d never admit to wanted someone to cuddle.” Tony snorts. “For someone who hates being alone she’d freak out if people knew she hates being alone.”

“I can’t believe she even told you she was tired.” Steve stares at Quill.

“She wasn’t thrilled about it. But she knew I wouldn’t leave her alone until she said something.” Quill looked down at you. “Listen guys, I don’t mind if you’re in here, but if she finds out you saw this, she’d lose her mind, so just make sure you leave before she wakes up.”

“Hey man, it’s all good. We’ll head out now.” Sam slowly walks backwards. “Just let her sleep.”


It was the strangest thing. Ever since you had fallen asleep with your head on Quill’s lap, everyone had stopped asking you about your sleep schedule. You assumed it was because Peter let it slip that you passed out like a light, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe someone just walked by and saw.

And every single time you sat down somewhere, another Avenger would appear to sit with you. In the lounge. After a mission on the Quinjet. In the home theater Tony had built on the eighth floor. Every time you ended up getting a little sleepy, someone was there for you to “accidentally” fall asleep on. Before the Guardians went back into space, even Rocket managed to curl up on your chest at some point during a movie so that you could sleep.

You would have made a stink about how many people had now seen you sleep, if it weren’t for the fact that none of them said a word about it. 

You’d be watching Titanic with Thor, you’d pass out on his lap, and when you woke up he’d talk about how he liked the movie and then get up to find a snack. No comment on how he pulled a blanket over you after you had fallen asleep, or how he had rested a hand on your shoulder the whole time to make sure you knew you weren’t alone even when you were unconscious.

Or you would be flying back from a mission and Sam would discreetly pull you into his side and turn on the auxiliary engine in his wings. The fans blew the excess heat out of the pack and kept you warm, and eventually you’d fall asleep on his shoulder. When you got back to the compound, he’d tap you awake and stand up before telling you to grab some supplies from the hanger like it had never happened.

Then there was the time that you were stuck in a press conference with Shuri and T’Challa for nine hours. Wakanda had some logistics to figure out and you were put on bodyguard duty with the Dora Milaje. Once it was over, Shuri went to bed and you and T’Challa busted out some wine. You ended up falling asleep with him on the couch, and he didn’t seem to mind. He knew well enough to not mention it the next day, but you were pretty sure that the Dora took photos.

At some point of course you put two and two together and realized that Peter must have told someone about what you said on the couch. But it was Quill. You doubted there was any ill intention behind it. There probably wasn’t any intention at all.

“I learned something new from my research. I think that every dimension moves a little differently because of obvious changes in time and space, and the reason that I’m able to travel through them is because I was built so that my body can adapt to each one quickly. I’m not sure yet how my body generates enough power to move to each, but I was right about the changes in my neurons in each reality.”

Peter stares at you for a moment, before nodding. “Sure, sure.”

You smirk up at the screen. “You didn’t get any of that, did you?”

“I got it, I got it. Hydra made you out of silly putty so that you can squeeze into different reality cookie cutters.”

You laugh. “You’re a dumbass even over the phone, I see.”

“Hey. Untrue. Would a dumbass have such good taste in music?”

You roll your eyes. “So, when are you all going to visit again?”

“Probably in a few months. Things are kind of slow up here. Without Thanos there’s less to do. And Rocket really liked Brooklyn.”

“Good. I’ve got to punch you for telling the other Avengers about our neuron talk.”

Peter freezes, and for a second you think the video actually cut out.

“Damn it. Did this thing break again?”

“No. No. Just,” He sighs. “are you mad?”

“I thought I’d be, and I think at first a was a little, but…sleeping’s been nice, so…” You shrugged. “We’re good.”




He’s silent for a moment.

“I didn’t tell them. I mean, not on purpose. Steve, Sam, and Tony walked in while you were sleeping and wouldn’t stop asking how I did it.”

“I assumed you hadn’t done it to overshare. Again, it’s fine. I probably would have ended up causing a lot of shit if I didn’t start being healthy, so I can’t really get too made at you.”

“Well, at least we know how to get you to sleep if we get trapped in another escape pod.”

“I think that will be the least of our worries.”

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SoftBoi! Erik x Reader

Summary: A continuation of ‘Thanksgiving w/ Mr. Stevens’; You and Erik spend Valentine’s Day cooking gumbo and reflecting on the past and your hopes for the future.

Words: 1800

Warnings: SEX. 18+

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends! I haven’t written in so long and I wanted to give you guys a taste of desire before I continue Warm Colors with sugar daddy M’Baku. Let me know what you think. Thanks for rocking wit me! - Shanti

‘Up late, again

Head on my chest, 

hand on my ass

Up late again

Back it up on ya

Breathing fast’

You paused the song and added it to the playlist titled ‘Valentine’s Moans’. February 14th had come faster than you anticipated, and in your rush of work, you’d forgotten all about your plans with Erik up until the night before. Although the plans were simple; grocery shopping, gumbo, and movies; you’d forgotten all about them up until you laid down to sleep. 

After being together for so long, none of the theatrics was needed. You never asked for any gifts and neither did he. Both of you just wanted each other’s company. 

But this year, there were actual plans and you were far from prepared; hell, you hadn’t even wrapped his surprise. Here you were, rushing to finish this playlist and hopefully your makeup before meeting Erik at the market in 10 min.

‘You on your way? Don’t be late, cheeks.’ - E

‘I’m leaving now’

You pocketed your phone and headed out into the Wakandan heat. You felt it buzz a couple times but ignored it as you walked to the market; grocery list in hand. After a few minutes of fast walking, you had finally arrived. You sighed with relief as you walked into the bustling market. The smells of fresh fruit and shea butter wafted through the aisles. You looked around for a while before spotting Erik looking fine as usual. The cream and magenta of his outfit beamed against his warm brown skin; the gold rim of his glasses gleaming in unison with his fanged grill. You would never tire of looking at him. He made his way over to you with a grin on his face. 

“Look who’s actually on time!” Your smile dropped as he laughed. 

“All this takes time; I could just go back if you want-“ He pulled you in by your waist and kissed your cheek. 

“Nah, cheeks; you know I’m just playing. Come on.” You giggled quietly as he kissed your neck. 

“I missed you,” Erik said, leading you by the hand,” I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

“That’s because you haven’t, E.” You chuckled inwardly; he could be such a softy sometimes. 

“I have half a mind to take you in the car right now, y/n,” he whispered into your ear as you walked hand in hand. 

Your sex twitched at the thought and you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. He grabbed your ass as he kissed your cheek and you moved his hand, laughing. 

“Would you stop?! Prince N’Jadaka should be behaving like a prince amongst his people,” you scolded, half laughing at his expression. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck what I’m supposed to behave like. If I miss you, I’ma act on that shit.” He stopped in his tracks, peppering kisses all over your face and neck. 

You knew he missed you; he always went straight for the neck when he missed you. 

Erik had agreed to the outdated Wakandan tradition of living separately until the wedding day arrived, but that didn’t mean he liked it. You held his face as he pouted. 

“I missed you too, daddy. I know you don’t like this arrangement but it’s only a few more months. Queen-mother personally requested it and we have to respect her wishes. She is your auntie, after all.” He rolled his eyes and you laughed. 

“Yeah, and I should have never said yes,” he muttered.

“Now come on. Let’s get our ingredients, go back to my place, and enjoy this holiday,” you said softly, rubbing his beard. Erik kissed your cheek and sighed.

“All right, come on cheeks.” 


When you arrived back at your place, you immediately began to cut the celery, bell pepper, and onion as Erik got started on the roux. 

“You know, I remember watching my pops cook gumbo. The smell is still the same,” he recalled. 

You stopped chopping the celery when you heard him sniffle. You hugged his waist from behind, kissing his shoulder. 


“I’m good, cheeks. It’s just, all these wedding plans got me thinking and wishing that he could be here for this. I want to be a good husband to you and I can’t even ask my dad how to be that.” 

“Erik, look at me,” you said. 

“The recipe says not to take your eye off the roux, I literally can’t look at you, y/n,” Erik chimed sarcastically, causing you both to laugh. 

“The roux will still be there, boy! Just look at me for half a second,” you demanded. He turned to face you and you cradled his cheeks in your hands. 

“N’Jadaka, your father would be so proud of how far you’ve come. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally. You’ve become your own hero as well as mine. You’re going to be a great husband. Don’t ever doubt it; and even if you do, I got you. I always will,” you sighed, tears running down your face. 

Erik rested his head against yours and held your face in his hands. 

“See, when you say shit like that, I know you’re going to be a great wife. Damn it, y/n. I still can’t believe you’re mine.” Erik’s watery eyes met yours and he kissed you passionately; his fingers navigating through your coiled tresses. 

“I love you so much. You are my entire world, y/n,” he cooed, his gold fangs peeking through his smile.

“I love you more. You may now pay attention to the roux,” you laughed, pecking his lips. 

“Oh, now I can? After you done made a nigga cry before the food’s even ready,” Erik chided, stirring the roux again. You turned back to your station and finished cutting the celery. 

“So, I know we agreed not to do gifts but I made you something,” you said, connecting your phone to the bluetooth speakers.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He asked, turning down the fire on the stove. Ari Lennox’s Shea Butter Baby began to blast through the kitchen. 

You walked over to the pot of roux and poured the holy trinity into it. 

“I may or may not have made you a playlist for Valentine’s day; I hope it’s not too corny,” you feared, mixing the contents of the pot. Erik stood beside you and kissed your temple. 

“Maybe I like corny,” he said, scrolling through the playlist. “Damn, Saba, Snoh Alegra, and Mac Ayers? You must be tryna get fucked tonight, y/n.” 

You smiled in response, as you both combined all the ingredients; covering them in chicken stock and topping it off with a lid. The song faded into the next; I Want You Around by Snoh Alegra.

“Well, it’s simmering. What do you wanna do for the next hour?” You inquired, wiping your hands with a towel. 

“I mean, I got some ideas,” Erik trailed off, his hands caressing your thighs as he kissed the back of your neck.

 He turned you around, kissing you fiercely. You struggled to stand on your toes, trying to keep your lips aligned with his; silently cursing him for his height. Erik sensed your frustration and lifted you by your ass, wrapping your thick legs around his waist. 

He carried you to your bedroom and made quick work of discarding your dress. You helped him take off his shirt and added it to the puddle of fabric beneath you. At that moment your eyes found his and it was as if the whole world stopped as you admired God’s work. The man was simply enamoring and looked at you like you were enamoring as well. You were so caught up in the moment that you had barely noticed Erik removing the thin piece of and wires covering your breasts. Your nipples hardened at his touch; knees buckling at the sight of his lustful gaze. 

Erik guided you to lay down; his lips meeting your neck once again, accompanied by his tongue and the too fleeting love bites of his teeth. He pinched and pulled your left nipple as he gave birth to the desires you had kept to yourself over the past few days. He moved down to lay between your thighs, licking his fingers as he gazed at your dripping wet sex. 

“Damn, that pussy nice a wet for daddy,” Erik said, pushing two fingers into you, beginning a steady pace. 

You moaned loudly as his thick lips covered your clit, sucking it madly. He always worked wonders with his tongue and lips, and it always drove you to the point of insanity. The special attention he paid to your clit was unmatched as if he was desperate to please you. In these moments, he worshipped at the temple of your body with every lick, suck, and bite. Scrambling your mind and thought process by the second.

“I missed you so much, baby girl; you know that?” He asked, staring you down. You nodded but he slammed his fingers into you harder, causing your mouth to go agape. 

“You know I need to hear you, y/n. Come on, baby,” Erik cooed, quickening the pace of his fingers. 

“Fuck, okay, daddy, okay! You’re gonna make me cum,” you moaned, throwing your head back. He kneeled over you and used your juices to rub his manhood. 

“Nah, princess; you ain’t cumming on nothing but this dick tonight.” He pushed your knees back and slowly entered you, painstakingly slow. 

“Erik, please stop playing. Please, daddy,” you begged as his hips rolled with every thrust. 

“Oh, you want me to stop playing, huh?” He asked rhetorically, placing your leg over his shoulder. He began to thrust harder, the sounds of clapping skin and moaning overbearing the beats of the playlist. 

“Fuck, daddy; I don’t think I can hold it!” You could feel the orgasm building and you were trying to delay. 

“Nah, you wanted me to stop playing; you better take this dick, y/n,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs as he laid into you. You bit your lip, trying to hold it. 

“Ooooh, fuck; I’m bout to cum, baby. You gone cum with me?” Erik asked; the pace of his thrusts became sloppier with the second. 

“Yes, cum in this pussy, daddy!” you cried, squirting all over his dick as he shot his seed into you. His member pulsating in unison with your sex. He slid out of you and laid next to you; both of you seeing stars on the ceiling as you breathed in tandem.

“Well, Happy Valentine’s day,” he said as he glanced at you; you both chuckled, breathily. 

“I think that gumbo might be done now, E.” 

“Babygirl, I forgot all about that gumbo.” He pulled you into his chest as you both laughed. Y’all could eat gumbo later. 

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