#OUT OF ALL OF THEM I FEEL LIKE MAYBE KATE
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khruschevshoe · 1 year ago
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Hot take but The Power of the Doctor is a better celebration of the history of Doctor Who and the history/impact of the Doctor than the Sixtieth Anniversary Specials.
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wildflowercryptid · 1 year ago
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i just realized that if i get awl for steam, i could try seeing if it's possible to free my kids from het-locked romances. 👀✨️
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stillgeekingout · 1 year ago
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#it's very strange #because i often feel like the culmination of those characters arcs #like if the point is they're ace great but like... #the option of lesbianism just *never* occurs #which--and again not to discredit any ace people or ace readings of her work--is such a common lesbian experience! #like myself and a bunch of other lesbians i know had that journey #of going 'hmm i don't like men... guess I'm asexual! (do not ask me about women i will combust)' #like lady bird... whatever #little women... alright i suppose if you wanted to make a comentary on how lma was forced to add the heterosexual romance at the end #and not suggest anything about a real person and also not deviate from the source material #but barbie was insane #the coding was next level #like c'mon birkenstocks??? #and i argue that barbies acceptance of genitalia could be read as an acceptance of sexuality or the very least exploring it #so why isn't she a dyke??? (other than mattel probably giving a hard no on that)
I don’t know, the thing that really bothers me about Greta Gerwig’s films is that there is just this gaping hole where gay women should be. Like, when you’re making these movies about the trap of heterosexual marriage, breaking free of that, and the only concrete answer is to be a single woman over and over and over again, it feels like an intentional absence. You can watch the movie with a queer lens, but it is egregious that you may only consider homosexuality in her movies in this way. It ought to be in them. There is no reason for it not to be there. Women don’t fuck women in Greta Gerwig’s feminist liberations. Often, they don’t have sex at all.
#hi I'm taking kaeden's tags with the lesbian perspective bc I'm gonna add the ace perspective#bc I have Thoughts about this#(preface I have only seen little women and barbie so I'm not gonna talk about lady bird)#1. as an ace person it is very rare that a story is explicitly about a woman being like 'actually it's fine if I don't have a relationship'#2. it is still very weird to not include queerness at all in that story#it's like. do I love to hc jo and barbie as ace? yeah absolutely#do I think that's what greta gerwig intended? honestly no#does it matter? maybe. because she's not putting in queerness in any other way#like sure there's a trans barbie but it's not like they say she's trans or have any comment to make about transness#(not that I am any authority to comment on transness)#and as trans women have pointed out better than me it's very weird to end your film about barbie with#'she's a real girl now that she has a vagina!'#it is interesting because I can understand more having a lesbian reading of jo but I didn't pick up anything lesbian about barbie#and had a total aroace reading of her#but the truth is the film wasn't trying to give her either#and we're all just projecting our own stuff onto it#yes margot robbie has said stuff that supports the ace reading but idk that she knows that's what she's doing beyond 'well she's a doll'#like as much as I enjoy it or make jokes.#and like yeah some (many) of the kens had gay vibes but they didn't actually let any of them be gay#beyond the like winky nod to magic earring ken#idk. I take a lot of issues with the barbie movie from a story perspective#but related to this post I was really hoping it would show Some sort of queerness apart from just accidental stuff we're reading into#or like the existence of kate mckinnon#it feels like greta gerwig knows queer people exist in theory but she doesn't have any interest in including us in stories#except subtly or accidentally#this is getting really long but like. part of being ace for me was being like#well if I'm not straight then I'm gay and if I'm not gay then what am I#which ironically is kinda the reverse of what kaeden said#it's that lesbian ace solidarity baybee#but it's not like greta gerwig's characters are ever even presented the Option to be attracted to women
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roanofarcc · 6 months ago
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WORTH YOUR WHILE
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pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader
summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 
warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.
word count. 2.9k || masterlist
a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!
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“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 
You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 
That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 
“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 
“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 
You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 
Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 
“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.
His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 
Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 
“Do what?” 
“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 
Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 
It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 
The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 
You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 
“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 
You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 
The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 
“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 
“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 
It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 
It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 
Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 
You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 
Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 
In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 
“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 
“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.
His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 
You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 
“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 
“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 
You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 
Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 
Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 
You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 
You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 
“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 
“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 
Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 
You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 
“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 
“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 
His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”
“Oh, no. Never.” 
Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 
“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 
“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 
Bonus! 
Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 
You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 
“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.” 
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago
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Overheard confessions part 2? You over hear them confess to the team about how they love you and want to have an army of kids with you...or like a lot of dogs on a farm lol
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Don't mind me, I'm just shrieking like a hyena over here. I am obsessed with the idea of a part two but from the opposite perspective. What happens when we hear the guys making the confession. I had way too much fun with this one. Just pure glee. Enjoy! (Find Part 1 HERE.)
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, breeding undertones, suggestive themes, mild alcohol/smoking, fluff, implied sexual content, mild dirty talk
Word Count: 2k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“You’re a mess, John.”
You clutch the manila envelope to your chest, coming to a dead stop just outside Captain Price’s office. The door is cracked, your hand pressed flat against the wood with the intent to enter. That flies out the coop. You’re glued to the spot, listening as Laswell continues to speak.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Care about my sleeping habits, Kate?”
Laswell snorts. “You look tired. What’s on your mind?”
There is a stretch of silence. You don’t dare breathe—don’t dare move. When Price doesn’t answer, you hear Laswell sigh. It’s not an annoyed sound, but one of pity. She knows what troubles him.
“It’s the secretary. Isn’t it?”
A secretary? What secretary?
You comb through all of them in the building. There are only a handful of you—maybe ten total.
“It’s nothing, Kate.”
“Just admit how you feel, John.”
Your hand drops from the door and crosses over your chest. The manila envelope crunches softly against your breasts as you squeeze it tighter.
“What do you want me to say? That I fancy the woman?” He scoffs.
“Yes,” replies Laswell. “It’s that simple.”
Your mind races. Of the ten secretaries in the building, there are maybe three—including yourself—that this could apply to. A blossom of hope blooms in your chest, a racing sensation of your heart palpitating. You shouldn’t wish for it, but for it to be you?
No.
“I’m her superior.”
This time, Laswell scoffs. “She’s not even your secretary, John. She’s mine, and I think you need to say something to her.”
Oh fuck.
It’s you. They’re talking about you.
“Really, Kate?”
“Really, John.” Laswell sighs. “Not to be crude, but maybe if she were getting laid, she wouldn’t hide my cigarettes when my wife tells her to.”
“Christ, Laswell.”
“No, John. Tell me how you feel about her.” He doesn’t. “I’m waiting.”
You hear a grumble on Captain Price’s end, then, “I want to make an army of kids with her. I want to wake up with her beside me and for her to be near when I sleep.” He pauses. “I like the way she throws her head back when she laughs. Her smile.” Then, softly, “I love everything about her.”
There is a tap tap tap of a shoe against linoleum, and then someone’s walking toward the door.
“That’s it, John. Just tell her how you feel and—”
The door opens wide, revealing you. Captain Price and Laswell both freeze. Price’s face goes from surprised to a dark shade of pink. Laswell’s shifts to a knowing smirk.
“Is that the file I asked for?”
“It is,” you affirm.
Laswell nods. “Hand it over to Captain Price. He needs to take a look at it first.”
“Laswell—”
“Goodnight, John,” she calls out, shutting the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone in the room.
Price clears his throat, standing.
“I heard what you said,” you say quickly.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
“I—”
“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand.
Dumping the manila folder on the desk, you circle to his side. Price is perfectly still, watching you the whole time. What you’re about to do is bold.
Placing your hand on his chest, you lean in. His entire demeanor softens as he mimics your movement.
“You said you wanted to make an army of kids with me.”
“It’s one thing I want to do with you.”
Shifting, you inch toward the desk, propping yourself up to sit on top of it. It’s true, you do need to get laid, and why not with a man who is more than willing.
Price’s gaze lowers as you spread your legs.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"She's fucking gorgeous, mate."
"Is that all?"
With back pressed against the wall, you listen in on the conversation.
Kyle and Johnny’s voices carry in the small apartment. You linger in the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and dining room. They have no idea that you are home, listening in just around the corner.
“No,” comes Kyle’s voice. It’s not sad but strained, like he’s trying to form the right words but keeps stumbling over what to say.
Anxiety grips your stomach, twisting tight.
"She's everything I want,” says Kyle, this time sounding confident.
"Everything?" Johnny whistles and you hear the creak of a chair. "You looking to marry her?"
The twisting sensation becomes a clamp. A vice grip that closes your throat.
"If she'll have me," answers Kyle immediately.
Johnny chuckles. "You'll marry her and then what? Pop out an army of wee bairns? Adopt a cat and two dogs?"
“All of the above,” answers Kyle. “Or nothing at all. It’s what she wants.”
“Oh, aye,” replies Johnny. “That's a good answer."
The sudden seizing of limb and lung relaxes, returning you to the moment. Your heartrate speeds up, becoming a thundering thing that threatens to burst from your chest. Kyle may be your boyfriend but you never suspected that this is what he wants.
"When do you plan on proposing?" asks Johnny.
"Haven't thought that far," murmurs Kyle.
"Too focused on how you're gonna have that army of barins?" laughs Johnny.
"You wanker,” mutters Kyle, but you hear the smile in it.
"Just remember—”
You cannot hide any longer. It’s unbearable.
Emerging suddenly—and almost tripping over your own foot in the process—the two men go quiet, their gazes widening as you appear like an apparition before them. Between then is an open bottle of scotch and various containers of Kyle’s favorite takeout spot.
Kyle is out of his seat in a second, heading for you. He whispers your name, a soft thing meant only for you, and all your love comes rushing up to warm your cheeks and soften your insides.
As he nears, the words tumble from you. "You want a small army with me?" you whisper.
"You heard that?" he asks.
The next words you form are dangerous yet you say them anyway. "Do you want to start trying?"
You put every ounce of lust you can muster into those few words. Kyle’s bodily response is immediate. His shoulders straighten, and a hungry need enters his eyes. This man is about to drag you to bed and fuck you raw for hours.
"Johnny," snaps Kyle, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. "Time for you to go."
John "Soap" MacTavish
A tornado rips through your senses.
Did you hear Johnny correctly? Surely not.
"You don't understand, Simon."
Johnny is in the bedroom pacing around while he talks to Simon on the phone. At your current distance from out in the hall, it’s difficult to hear Simon’s response.
"You're balls deep in a different lass every week. Don't hardly know their names. And you're going to give me shit about this?"
A snort almost escapes your nose, revealing your location. Johnny isn’t wrong. Simon is a notorious slut among Johnny’s group of friends. There is always a different woman on his arm whenever they go out.
Johnny pauses before continuing. "I love this woman. I want a bloody army of bairns with her. Fuck, I'll take an army of animals if that's what she bloody well wants."
He sounds irritated, but you know it’s just his passion. Johnny can be hotheaded, especially when it comes to the people he cares about. Either that or Simon is giving him shit on the other end.
"I need your support, Simon." All is quiet, and then you hear Johnny’s amused snort. "You're always giving me shit, Lt." He chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow at brief.”
You slip around the corner and enter the bedroom. Johnny glances up from his phone, his mouth a wide smile upon glimpsing you. “Come here,” he says with a sultry purr, reaching out.
You go to him without effort.
Wrapping you up in his arms, Johnny kisses the top of your head. You tilt your face upward, going in for something softer.
"I heard you talking on the phone,” you murmur, accepting another kiss from Johnny.
"Did you?"
"You want an army of kids?"
Johnny's neck flushes pink. "I may have said that."
Your hug becomes intimate, hands gently caressing until you find the front of his sweatpants. Johnny groans into your mouth as you find him, lightly rubbing him toward hardness. It’s a tease of a touch. The moment he’s throbbing under your hand, you pull away, fingers toying with the strings of his sweatpants.
"You don't mind if we start now?"
Johnny's gentle embarrassment becomes a sultry glare. "Oh, aye. We have the rest of the day and all night to try."
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"I want her, Johnny."
The pan of brownies you’re holding nearly go crashing to the floor. Simon’s words are a brick wall. You’ve been baking all day because it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself. The plan is to drop them off with Simon and let the boys devour them. Instead, you’re dumbfounded, standing right outside the door to the meeting room Price’s secretary told you to drop the sweets at.
“Who?” asks Soap absently.
When Simon speaks again, it is your name that falls from his lips. Yes, you and Simon are together, but you’re not together. This is fuck buddies. This is friends with benefits. This is…not a relationship.
Or so you thought.
But you’re at his place of work dropping off fucking brownies. The rest of his team call you by your first name. They expect you at functions when they all bring their significant others along. Yet you and Simon are not a couple.
Not officially anyway.
"Oh, aye?” asks Soap, his tone amused. “And does she want you?"
Yes. More than you know.
You’re fully aware that Johnny and Kyle give Simon shit about you. Not because they don’t like you—they adore you—but because they think Simon needs to put a ring on it. They aren’t quiet about it either.
But Simon has never been so forward with his feelings for you. He might tell you sweet things when his dick is deep inside you, but you’ve never heard him be this blunt.
"Don't care. She's mine, Johnny. I'll make sure of that." The mine is almost a growl, a possessive bite that sends a bolt of need to your core.
Johnny chuckles but there’s nothing condescending in it. He sounds…happy.
“Finally, Lt. Fucking finally!”
You hear Johnny enthusiastically smack Simon’s back—or shoulder—and then the man growls like he’s aggressively shaking Simon.
“You’re going to fucking crack my ribs, Johnny.”
“I’m just happy for you, Lt.”
You step forward, pressing your shoulder against the doorframe. They are still out of view, but you don’t want to reveal yourself yet.
“Finally going to make an honest woman out of her?” jokes Soap.
Simon snorts. “I’ll even make you an uncle, Johnny.”
“Me? I expect an army, Lt. Five mini-Riley’s running around.
“Fucking hell, Soap.”
Your cheeks are hot, and you’re standing out in the hall like an idiot. The last thing you need is for one of them to open to door and find you here.
Knocking to announce yourself, you open the door of the meeting room. They turn in your direction, but it’s only Johnny’s face that’s clear to you. Simon is wearing a balaclava, and the only part of him you can see are his eyes.
Johnny’s grin is devilish. “What’s that, love?”
“Brownies?”
He perks up. “Gaz is gonna flip his mug.” You hand them over and Johnny removes the foil on top. “I’m eating this entire pan.”
“Fuck off, Sergeant,” says Simon.
Johnny gives him a half-hearted salute before disappearing out the door, a chunk of brownie already shoved in his mouth.
“You just get here?” asks Simon, sauntering forward.
The soft sway of his hips is a tantalizing thing. You’re hypnotized. Locked in.
“No,” you whisper.
“No?”
“I—I heard you and Soap talking.”
Simon is inches away, his broad chest and shoulders seeming impossibly wide, almost boxing you in.
“What do you think?”
“You want me all to yourself?”
Simon’s voice is a growl. “You’ve always been mine. That’s never changed.”
You place your hand on Simon’s chest. “You promised Soap you’d make him an uncle.”
“I did.”
“And if I want to start right now?”
Simon leans in a bit further, his gaze burning like warm whiskey. “Then you should bend yourself over the table and lift that dress.”
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gutsby · 1 month ago
Text
Halftime
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: A chance meeting a week before Thanksgiving leaves you and your dad’s best friend to handle your feelings the only way you know how: fucking on the couch when your dad falls asleep during the game.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Age gap. Soft dom!Joel. Daddy kink. Praise kink (!) Makeup sex. Pussy pronouns.
Note: ‘Or maybe on a fifty yard line watchin’ Bama beat the hell out of Tennessee’ is a line from Riley Green’s ‘Hell of a Way to Go.’ I was in Knoxville when we played this year, but in my fic, Alabama wins. If you’re a Vols fan, I’m sorry. And RMFT.
Word count: 10.5k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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Guilt brought you home, and liquor helped you stay.
These were two of the shittiest things a daughter could admit, but the fact was that you simply wouldn’t be here if your dad hadn’t broken his leg at work last week. That you wanted to help, but your patience was thin, and the only way you knew how to reconcile the two was to drink. A lot. Friday you came home, and by midday Saturday, sometime around eleven or twelve, you were plastered.
Staggering up the front steps of your childhood home with Theresa Servopoulos—newfound friend from camp and the heaviest drinker you’d met in a long, long time—hot on your heels. You’d just had brunch, and the meal was mostly liquid. Bottomless mimosas had been Frank’s idea, and when his husband Bill had offered to be the DD after the fact, you’d had no choice but to accept, really. You drank your weight in citrus and champagne and spent the whole morning getting to know Tess’s friends. As your state of intoxication progressed, you’d told them your troubles and all that had been plaguing you lately.
Now, hours later, you didn’t want to think at all.
You wanted to sit your ass down on the couch, turn the TV on to Disney+, and spend the next three to thirteen more binging Star Wars spin-offs and discussing with Tess at length whether Katee Sackhoff or Timothy Olyphant was the more fuckable supporting actor.
“Honestly…I’d let Jabba the Hutt hit,” you confessed, slurring your words a little as you fumbled for your key.
“You’re fucking lying,” Tess half-groaned, half-laughed.
She watched you try and jam metal into metal and fail twice before steeling herself against a rocking chair and reaching out her hand. You waved it away. At a distance, you heard the hum of an engine and another voice, loud:
“You ladies need a little help over there or wha-at?”
That was Frank. He was arguably the most drunk out of the three of you and hanging his handsome, greying head out of the passenger side of Bill’s Chevy S-10. He’d seen you try and fail with the key, too, and seemed more eager than ever to lend a hand, while his husband was likely kicking himself for ever offering to drive you back.
Tess gripped the porch chair harder and gestured, dazed.
“Give her a minute, she’s—” She hiccuped once. “—intelligent and entirely capable. She’s got this, OK?”
You didn’t. You really didn’t. And by the way you were finessing this key you didn’t feel too fucking smart either. You crammed your key against the tight, rigid slot in the front door of your home, missed it completely, and then wondered, dimly, how men were able to aim their dicks.
How Joel ever managed to fit that massive, throbbing—
“Fuck!” you cursed, kicking the doorframe with a huff.
The periphery of your vision was spinning and swimming a little now, and before you knew it, Tess had snatched your keychain from out of your hand. She got to work.
And while she did, you turned back to Bill and Frank, whose truck was still idling quietly in your driveway.
Frank had an eyebrow raised. His chin was in his palm, and his elbow was planted in the car’s open window. With that look alone, you knew what he wanted to say.
“Fine…fine,” you capitulated in a loud, droning shout. Head spinning, “You can give him my fucking number.”
Frank grinned at that.
“No shit?” he yelled back.
“Yeah. I really am that horny.”
From somewhere in the car, Bill groaned his disapproval. Frank’s smile only widened. It’d been his idea to set you up with one of their neighbors after you’d divulged all of your dating life turmoils over eggs benedict and grits that morning—how fucking your dad’s best friend had, in fact, not been the wisest decision and you needed something new to get your mind off the man for a little while. Frank had been all too happy to offer supplying your number to the so-called ‘dreamboat’ next door to them. Initially, you’d brushed it off, but the longer you stood on this porch contemplating the hellish few days you’d be spending at home for Thanksgiving, the more you drunkenly reasoned a dick might do you some good.
And if it wasn’t from Joel Miller, even better. You leaned against the nearest porch column and pointed at Frank.
Then at Bill, squinting dumbly and faux-accusingly.
“I’m desperate, but I’m trusting y’all, too, alright?”
You wanted to get fucked, not fucked over, again. Frank seemed to understand right away and nodded his head.
“I’ll give him your number, tell him you’re hot—which you are—and you two can work something out. It’ll be fine.”
He pointed back at you, still smiling, and you hoped it would be. Behind you, Tess had solved the puzzle of the chrome-plated house key, and had thrust the door open. She stumbled inside, and your feet started to follow hers.
“Tell Tess to text us your number!” Frank had to cup his hands saying it, as Bill was already starting to pull away.
You nodded and waved. Watched the world veer sideways and your kind, considerate, hammered new friend-of-a-friend repeat how great this was going to be—this guy’ll do you so good you’ll forget Joel exists—while you backed into the house. A gust of warm air from inside pricked at your skin, and along with that touch came the tiniest trace of hope. A sanguine sort of warmth that twisted low in your gut and made you smile.
And cup your hands, as Frank had, while calling to him:
“How old is Mr. Dreamboat, anyway?!”
The truck was crunching its ways down the gravel drive. Its path was slow, though, and Frank’s voice was clear.
“FORTY-ONE!”
It was as though you were hearing those words in a dream. You almost couldn’t help what you said next.
Fanning yourself, you yelled back, “I lo-o-o-ve that!”
“What?!”
Frank hadn’t heard you. They were farther away now.
You had to practically scream it now, but you were drunk enough that you didn’t really care. Tess was entertained, half-hunched on the floor and trying to work off her shoes while she laughed at this stupid exchange.
In truth, it didn’t matter how loud you yelled, because you lived on several dozen acres of land, and your dad wasn’t home. He’d told you that he was hitching a ride with Tommy to their usual weekend haunt to watch the Alabama-Tennessee game, and it started an hour ago. The house was empty, and you were free to screech.
“I said, ‘I love that’!”
“Yeah? Love what?!”
Frank was hanging halfway out of the passenger window by now, and his face was flushed with moronic humor.
Bill was probably grinding his teeth together as he drove.
“O-O-O-OLD MEN!” you shrilled, as loud as you could.
Next thing you knew, Tess was on the floor. Wheezing.
It didn’t matter whether Frank could hear you now; evidently, he’d gotten the message. Their truck was crawling down your drive with a low, rumbling crackle, and the eyes that were still glued to yours were shining.
Before they turned out of sight, Frank waved again and blew you a kiss, as you and Tess had done to him at some point earlier that day. He slipped back into the car, and your sides were nearly aching from how hard you were giggling—nothing was even that particularly funny, but with a nice noontime buzz and Tess’s relentless cackling from across the foyer, you couldn’t help it. You shut the door, staggered over, and were about to drop.
Right when you were about to collapse, though, Tess wobbled up. You saw her raise two hands in front of her.
“I’m— I’m gonna pee…or puke…possibly,” she warned.
That wasn’t good.
You pointed up.
“First door on your left. Do you need any—”
But Tess was already staggering off. You might’ve laughed again, and trailed after her with a plea to try not to projectile vomit all over those nice festive towels your dad had bought, but the moment came and went quick. In fact, it wasn’t even brought to an end by your friend’s departure but rather the screech of her feet on the floor.
Nearly tripping over herself to leave, then crashing into something else before she could. You heard a thwack.
Then her huff, ‘Fuck. Sorry!’ And you turned.
You looked up and cursed.
Again, you felt like you might be in a dream. Only this time, the sight had more of a nightmarish hue, and you had only to grip the edge of a chair—no, a table, a side table—beside you in the hall to keep yourself upright.
Your sweet, sloppy-drunk friend had run straight into Joel. She was raising her hands again and saying sorry.
You could tell she meant it, too. She was just shaking her head, appearing to try and rid herself of the stunned, dumbfounded feelings, when she tilted her chin up.
Then, somehow even brighter, she smiled in recognition.
“Lucien Flores!”
Not missing a beat, like you knew she wouldn’t:
“You fucking prick.”
Of course she was sober enough to remember his face. The time she’d mistaken him for an uptight FEDRA counselor back at camp. How you’d fucked him on her bunk. All the shit-talking you’d been doing about him since, too. You knew she wasn’t a woman to mince words, so it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when next she placed a hand on his pec, patted it lightly and added:
“You’re an asshole. A spineless, slimy, sad sack of shit.”
Joel blinked as she walked past him, toward the stairs.
“Good to see you, too, Tess.”
“Eat shit and die.”
“Theresa.”
You hadn’t even meant to say the last aloud; it just came out. Tess was holding the rail, going slow but determined to get upstairs without losing her food all over the floor.
The next thing you heard was the slam of the bathroom door. You winced and thought of your dad’s decorative towels a moment. That thought was then supplanted by another, though you pretended not to feel it, at least outwardly. You brushed past Joel to go to the kitchen.
Why was he here? He surely wouldn’t have come unless your father was there, and your dad was supposed to be watching the Vols take the ass-beating of a lifetime from the Tide. Or maybe vice-versa. You weren’t sure how the latter was doing since Saban retired. You rubbed one temple as you opened a cabinet and looked for a glass.
Reconsidering, you opted for a plastic cup instead.
Your head was throbbing as you walked to the sink.
You sensed you likely weren’t of a mind to be holding anything fragile, and the second that followed only proved it. A footfall sounded by the kitchen island, and you flinched, dropping your cup like a fucking idiot.
“Where’s my dad?” you blurted out, not thinking.
You didn’t want his voice to be the first to fill the silence. You picked your cup off the floor and turned on the tap.
More silence followed. You couldn’t be sure if it was your own drunken paranoia or a genuine feeling of two eyes on your back, but your skin bristled. You were prepared to pose the question again when your answer came in the form of a new sound: not Joel’s voice, but another’s.
An announcer, apparently. You turned your head and saw ESPN on the living room TV, where the game was playing. In front of the screen, your dad was supine on his recliner. His jaw hung slack, and his eyes were shut.
So much for those morning beers with Tommy.
His leg was armored with a boot: a real, no-bullshit cast meant to protect the tibia he’d shattered, propped up in front of him while the other dangled haphazardly from the chair. You watched him, feeling an odd mix of pity, nausea, and love, and for a second, you didn’t think to move. This man was the reason you were home, after all—and why Joel was, too. You almost forgot your anger.
Your cup was full. Overflowing. You turned off the sink, then poured what excess you could as your hand shook.
You shouldn’t have been holding anything in that moment, off-kilter and unnerved as you were, but you wanted to seem occupied. You inhaled and started past Joel again, who was leaning against the counter, quiet.
He still didn’t talk, and let you stroll about half a foot in front of him before you felt the cup lift out of your hand.
“Hey—” you started.
But Joel was resuming your path before you could finish. He’d snagged the water from your grasp and made his way out of the kitchen, calmly, and you didn’t have to ask to know where he was going. You felt a pang of rekindled resentment but said nothing, knowing that was useless.
Arrogant motherfucker. Patronizing asshole. Clearly, you couldn’t be trusted to carry a cup of fucking water up the stairs in your own home, so he had had to do it for you. You went over to your father in the living room, blinking through a dozen more pissed off thoughts, when you glanced down at one of your hands again. You winced.
Stop shaking.
You needed to stay busy. Make use of those dumb, trembling hands while Joel was here and not let him see that it was all from memories of him—not the mimosas—that you couldn’t keep a steady hold to save your life.
You started to clean, mindlessly. Cleared the old coffee table of its manifold beer cans and plates of stale pizza. You walked with an unsteady gait, the room still tilting a little, but you ended up getting a decent amount cradled in your arms and into the trash or the sink shortly after.
You had just taken a bite of a slice of pepperoni and made a face when your dad shifted in his seat, letting out a grunt. Still unconscious, he rubbed at his arms. The house around him was warm, but never quite enough for a man who appeared to have been born cold-blooded. After years of this, you knew the routine; you dropped your pizza, went to the thermostat, and cranked it to 75.
Less than a minute later, it came: “Boiling us alive, huh?”
It was the first you’d heard from Joel since he spoke his curt greeting to Tess. You were over by the closet getting a blanket, and Joel was stood in the doorway, frowning.
You turned, holding up the big wool throw for him to see before you went back over to your dad in the recliner.
“He needs it,” you replied, gaze averted.
“By ‘it’ you mean his electric bill gone through the roof?”
He could be such a father sometimes. The worst kind.
“No, keeping him fucking warm, Joel.”
And the end of the last sentence you hadn’t meant to be so loud. Or mean. You didn’t really care whether it offended him, but the thought of waking your dad to hear that—being rude to your ‘Uncle Joel,’ as your dad had so innocently called the man last month—was awful. You squinted seeing him stir under the blanket, but then he turned to the side and snored even louder. You sighed.
“Doctor’s got him on some heavy painkillers. He’s been out since before the last game even ended,” Joel said.
You glanced at the TV. The game was crawling to halftime at a snail’s pace, by the looks of it. You smiled, seeing those puke-pumpkin-hued fucks getting smoked. In a second, though, the curve of your lips was fading.
“Will you stop?”
Your voice was shrill. You hurried over to Joel, who was busy dicking around with the thermostat and trying to get it down to 68 degrees—freezing, in your dad’s mind.
“It’s too hot.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re being—”
“This isn’t your fuckin’ house, Miller! Quit!”
“Yell a little louder, why don’t y—” Joel began to scold.
You wouldn’t let him. Of all things to get on your ass about now, volume wasn’t the hill he’d die on today. Before you even realized what you two were doing, you shoulder-checked him like you might do an annoying brother, and his arm wound swiftly around your front. It didn’t hurt, but it sure as hell made you mad to be held.
You made a jab at Joel’s ribs and ignored the grunt from him. Anger was a natural defense—your default state.
Every last semi-tranquil encounter you’d shared with someone you cared about before was always marred by rage at some point, and with Joel, it came as easy as breathing. If you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off, you were ripping him a new one, or he was grating your nerves. You didn’t get along, and you likely never would.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t need there somewhere. You just smothered it with something hostile, constantly.
You wished it would go away. You shoved at his arm.
“You’re gonna wake him,” you hissed, strained.
“Yeah? That’s what you’re worried about?”
You wriggled against Joel’s hold and, scrunching your nose, made a pass for the dial on the wall. He caught it.
Now he was holding your hand in one of his, and your shoulder with the other as his forearm crossed your chest. Joel’s frame was looming over yours, and you glared ahead of you, where the screen still read ‘68.’
You could throttle him—Joel Miller simply refused to lose
“Is that all you’ve gotta say to me, after this whole time?”
His breaths were tight like yours, but the voice was slow.
“What else is there to say?” you snapped.
“You’ve been ignoring me all month.”
“I’m in college. I have shit to do.”
“Like block all of my calls?”
“Go fuck yourself, Joel.”
“Just tell me why.”
“Fuck. You.”
Your last two caustic words were still warm on your tongue when Joel turned you around. Again, he wasn’t forceful or harsh—your looks had enough vitriol for the two of you—but he pushed your body against the wall. Right beside the thermostat, your spine straightened, and your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist.
“Is that an invitation?” he hummed, voice palpably lower.
Un-fucking-believable, you thought. Of course, it was.
Silently, you prided yourself in wearing a dress that day. It wasn’t the short, red-and-white gingham thing you’d worn to the fair with Joel last month, but it was loose. Flowing. Easy enough for him to hike up your legs, sliding a coarse, warm palm up your thigh while the other held you tight to the wall. His hips pinned yours, and with that gesture, you felt him hard and desperate in denim.
“Need me to fuck you now or what? Is that the only way I’m getting a word out of this mouth?” he pressed again.
Honestly, it was. You nodded once to say as much.
Then he pushed you harder against the wall. He wrestled with his jeans just enough for you to hear a belt, and a button, and a short, sharp zip come down, and your mind was swimming with filthy ideas when he grunted.
Joel nosed your cheek, and a hand made its way to your mouth. You sucked in a breath right before you felt three fingertips graze the seam of your lips. Prying them open.
“If I’m fucking you here, I need more than a nod, kid.”
You really, really hated him now. This felt like a game. His index curled into your bottom teeth and pulled your mouth open wider, while his own was smiling, faintly. It was hard to talk with his fingers skirting your tongue—his warm, bare member springing out and grazing your folds through your panties down below—but you tried.
Your words were muffled as you spoke, “Please fuck me.”
Clearly, that was all Joel needed. With an easy nudge from the head of his cock, he pushed your underwear to the side, and his grin got bigger when he felt you soaked.
You were drooling down his length, and he hadn’t so much as touched you before he pushed you up against his body. It felt almost shameful as he slid himself inside.
Then, in the next moment, your brain went blank. Your bodies were joined completely, and Joel had you seated all the way down to the base of his cock, where a tuft of salt-and-pepper hair tickled your skin. His fingers hung limply from your lips while he nestled in; when you groaned, he used his middle and index to stifle the noise.
“Shh, hey—” he started, as if suddenly remembering where he was, and whose daughter he was fucking, “You’re okay. You’re good…I know that feels good.”
You despised him even more when he was right. He pressed the heft of his belly into you, and with the friction, you couldn’t help but whimper against his hand.
“Fuck you,” you bit again, this time through fingers.
“I am.”
Then he pushed them in further, and he made you suck. Joel started fucking you gently against the wall, and with the first few strokes, you knew you’d be putty soon enough. You focused on feeling and trying not to whine.
“I’ve been texting,” Joel continued, breath labored, sounding half-crazed, “Calling every chance I got—”
He paused to jerk his hips harder. Make you bounce on his cock or maybe just hold him closer from the force of it. And you did, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and reluctantly burying your face into the side.
He was familiar, that was for sure. You tensed seeing something else familiar—your dad in the next room—and preemptively swallowed a moan while Joel kept going.
Fucking you stupid and talking to you, per usual.
“—to make sure you were OK,” he finished, panting.
Pulling his fingers from your lips so you could answer:
“I’m fine.”
“Are we?”
“You lied to me!”
And no sooner had he retracted his hand that he needed to clamp his palm over your mouth. You’d said that loud.
In the next room over, through the open space between the kitchen and the den, you heard your dad snore softly. When your gaze flitted back to Joel’s, it was like you were chiding the other at once—whose idea was this, anyway? Slowly, he moved his hand down, but his gaze was stern.
“Didn’t mean to lie,” Joel answered, now lower than ever.
“But you did. Dad’s been fucking his old sidepiece, my mom’s best friend, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was my place—”
“Your place?!” You made sure to keep your indignation hushed this time, but your eyes went wide. Incredulous.
You would’ve shoved Joel off if he hadn’t moved first. Neither one of you had had a fraction of the presence of mind to be thinking straight here, obviously, so when he carried you closer to a table in an adjoining room, all you were thinking was how not to lose your cool completely. When Joel tried to set you down on the wooden surface, you slipped away. You moved to the couch; you weren’t even considering where you were going, just that you wanted more of him, and you needed to be done quick.
If that meant fucking on the sofa behind your dad’s recliner, so be it. Joel balked a second before following.
“Are you…?” he started, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What? Not your ‘place’ here, either?” you shot back.
Admittedly, you were both insane. No matter how far away your dad’s sleeping form happened to be, or how thoroughly knocked out he appeared from the drugs, this was batshit, objectively. Joel’s eyes narrowed at you.
Then he moved some more. Casting a sidelong glance at the recliner less than ten feet away, he gripped himself and gave you a look as if to say, ‘Are we crazy now, or…?’
You nodded to confirm that you were.
By moving again, apparently, Joel was saying the same.
Except now it wasn’t with words but with a look—eyeing you hungrily and setting all rational, sane thought aside to climb over the couch to you. Your legs were spread.
Joel slotted himself quickly between them, then inside you, without another word. His body crowded yours. The scent you knew was also the fragrance you hated most: the smell of his American Spirits. He tried to kiss you with those lips, and you dodged them, choosing instead to hold the coarse greyish hairs at the nape of his neck and pull them. Draw him closer to your body without letting him get too close to you. Joel let out a grunt.
His hips rutted in short, quick, shallow motions again, like he was desperate to feel anything. When you wouldn’t accept his lips on yours, they fell to the side of your face. He held your sides while he dragged his cock in and out of your pulsing heat, and his breaths fanned heavy on your cheek. His stubble was sharp on your skin.
“Anything you want,” he huffed shortly.
His mouth was right by your ear, and his words were spoken in a breath. And another. And another. Still panting and dragging his old, weary hips back and forth in an effort to pleasure you. He felt indescribably good.
“Want…what?” you murmured back.
You clawed at his torso and locked your legs around his waist. You glanced over at the recliner, turned away from the couch, thankfully, and hoped it wouldn’t move again. Your dad’s breaths were deep, and so was Joel inside you
Sliding a hand under your head and cradling your body to his, and still maintaining a bruising pace with his cock—you almost couldn’t take it. You wanted to come undone.
And there Joel went, murmuring in your ear. Battling the urge not to get too loud with your father there, but still:
“I’ll do anything…anything you want.”
“W-Why? For what?”
“To say I’m sorry.”
“You don’t—”
But your words were cut short. For a second, your heart leapt into your throat thinking the sound was coming from your dad’s old chair, and then you realized that it wasn’t. Just the same, your terror spiked again when you sensed it was somewhere inside—coming from the back.
“Can I get a…ROLL TIDE?!” someone yelled.
Tommy Miller wasn’t even an Alabama fan.
Still, it seemed he was here to celebrate like one anyway. You froze momentarily, taking in the shout, then the steps, then the linoleum floor of the mud room being shuffled across before the boots were kicked off quick.
His brother was quicker. Joel climbed off of you in a blink, jeans and boxers trailing just as fast. Then his hands were dropping to you, gripping your arms, and heaving you up. You stumbled. You shoved your skirt down, fast, and barely had the time to breathe while you skittered after Joel, still in his hold. The two of you ran like hell: quiet, but like your asses might’ve been on fire. You made it out to the foyer, and from there, you could hear Tommy making a fuss in the kitchen. Joel strode three steps at a time going up the stairs, and behind him, you nearly face-planted. He tugged you up then, swiftly.
Silent as death at the top of the stairs and trying to usher you into a room, not saying a word. You dug in your heels
“Wait. Wait—Tess?”
“Napping in the tub.”
Of course. You cast one last pensive look at the bathroom door before you let Joel nudge you away.
You were pushed into a room; you knew it was yours. Steeped as you were in fear, shame, and lingering inebriation, you couldn’t waste a second getting in—and neither could Joel. His frame followed close while Tommy’s old, familiar sounds grew louder downstairs. He ushered you further, walked you forward, pushed you in an inch or two too far, and before you knew it, your knees were bumping along the front of your bed. You tripped.
Your hands flew out to break your fall. Unfortunately, the limbs that were meant to stay straight were weaker than you’d hoped, and instead of holding you up, they crumpled beneath your weight. You fell on your face.
The spot where you landed was soft, though.
You let out a muffled grunt into cotton sheets.
Across from where you lay, Joel’s steps were slow—painstakingly so—and when you’d propped yourself up and blinked again and again to adjust your eyes to the dim half-light of the room, you could see him there. Pacing. Skating a look to the doorknob, as if checking to make sure he’d locked the thing properly, then running a hand through his hair. From your perch, you saw a wince.
Then his face turned to you. Again—guilty.
What the fuck am I doing here with you?
That was what you thought you saw in his expression, anyway. You felt compelled to ask him the very same.
“Why are you here? Why is Tommy here?” As if to punctuate your question, more footfalls followed, loud, “I thought he was taking my dad to the bar. And you—”
“I know. He was supposed to. Then he texted and said your dad crashed before the Notre Dame game even ended, so he figured he’d head over to the bar himself.”
You were about to speak, but Joel continued.
“I said he was an idiot to leave your dad home alone, since the man can hardly walk on his own. So I came.”
You swallowed. While some momentary swell of gratitude threatened to constrict your throat, you forced out a frown and scooted back. The room swayed a little.
“That the only reason?” you asked, clipped.
At the foot of the bed, Joel held your gaze. It was stern. Your own vacillating look was no match for the man who, in spite of the two or ten beers he’d likely guzzled that morning, could stand firm. Prop his hands on his hips.
Look every bit the displeased fatherly figure while he watched you crawl across the plush, pink bed at length.
It wasn’t right. You saw it in his eyes: the want painted there, however burdened by shame they might’ve been. No doubt seeing your childhood bedroom had kicked the guilt into overdrive, reminding him, plainly, that he was his age, and you were yours. And his best friend’s kid. The irises that shone in the glow of warm white fairy lights overhead flitted to the canopy where they hung. Joel sized up the mesh overtaking most of your bed, all flowing and girlish and juvenile as it cascaded from the four wooden posters, and he had to shake his head. He blinked faster, as if trying to rid himself of some thought.
“I’ll go,” he choked out.
“Alright.”
You unzipped your dress and let it fall to the bed the second Joel had started to turn. He stopped. Got himself an eyeful and probably could’ve bruised every fingertip from how hard he tightened his grip along his belt loops.
He watched you slip out of the fabric, then brush it aside. Clothed in just your bra and panties, you went to the nightstand and opened a drawer. You leaned down.
And, while you kneeled and bent over to reach, Joel was afforded a too-perfect view of the wet patch in the fabric between your legs. You could’ve sworn you heard a groan before you crawled back over to the place where you’d been—American Spirits and a lighter now in your hand.
“Where’d you…” Joel started, only to lose his train of thought the moment you sat and unclasped your bra.
You lit up, comfortably. Nodding to the window.
“Mind opening that?” you asked him.
Joel stood back and stared. He squared his shoulders, seeming poised to say ‘no,’ when his gaze dropped lower.
“Those’ll kill you.” But he was just looking at your breasts
Reluctantly, he moved from where he’d fixed himself at the center of your room and walked over to the window. He slid the pane up, but he didn’t let his gaze stray from you too long. As soon as the smoke found a place to go, he turned. He shook his head again. You smiled, then.
“These are yours,” you replied. You bared your teeth at him with the cigarette in between them, teasing a little.
After, you closed your lips and inhaled once. You blew a breath through your nose and let the smoke trail out. Joel scowled as he took a step closer to your bed.
Somewhere downstairs Tommy had cranked the game up louder. You could hear the blare of fanfare and a booming, cheery voice announcing a first down.
Meanwhile, Joel’s jaw hadn’t flinched. His lips were still curled in that sour, unsightly grimace. He had to have gotten a good deal of practice doing that while you were away, with every text, call, and FaceTime you’d declined over the past month, you imagined. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of being ignored as it was getting smoke blown into his face that made him irritated. Galled, even.
Joel made a pass for your mouth as if to take the cigarette away, but you were too quick. You slid back.
“Finders keepers,” you chided, trying not to giggle.
“Give it.”
“Make me.”
“Kid, don’t start.”
Joel’s face was turning pink as he leaned in again. In no more than a second, though, you’d made it safely out of his reach. He had to plant a knee on your bedspread, grit his teeth even tighter, and stretch his frame further in, and just when he’d gotten within half a foot from where you sat perched at the head of the bed, you felt a snap.
Or perhaps heard a groan and surmised the rest. Joel cursed, ‘Fuck!’ then fell to his elbow, hissing with pain.
He gripped his side, and he winced. Your eyes went wide.
“Joel?”
The cigarette fell from your lips; as soon as it did, Joel swept a brusque, graceless touch in your direction. He held tight to his side while he swatted the thing away. The second the still-lit stick hit the covers, Joel had it brushed to the side, sending it flying off of your bed.
His nostrils flared when he stood again. He crushed the cigarette underfoot. He looked pleased—then pained.
“Joel!” you hissed. This time reaching for him, and catching him narrowly before he lurched into your bed.
“‘M’alright. Stop, stop. It’s okay.”
Joel grunted, low. He held one bedpost. He clutched somewhere on his body close to the small of his back, and you could tell he felt a strain. He noticeably tensed.
“I’m fine.” And then he was starting to wave you off, too, “Lifetime of smoking’ll do that to you. And turning forty.”
You believed him. What you wouldn’t accept was how fast he tried to bend down and retrieve the cigarette from the floor. His cheeks flushed red with the effort.
And just when he’d started to tilt, you tugged him back.
You gripped his shirt and yanked him onto the bed.
Maybe that wasn’t the best for the muscle he’d pulled. At any rate, though, it was better than straining another by trying to pick up a cigarette butt, you reasoned. You hadn’t even jerked him that hard, and your bed was soft. Joel fell with a thud amidst a sea of satin, plush faux fur, a half-dozen pillows, and a mound of stuffed animals. His lips frowned as if annoyed, but the eyes betrayed relief. He breathed out a shallow puff of air once he’d settled.
“You need to stop smoking.” Grumbling now, of course.
You wanted to pinch the pout clean off his mouth.
“Yeah, really, Joel? You first,” you shot back.
“I’m old.”
“No shit.”
“Watch it.”
For someone who’d practically thrown out his back just bending at the waist, Joel Miller loved to wax poetic on the dangers of Big Tobacco. And getting old. By the time he groaned and laid flat, you decided you’d had enough of this sexless intermission, and you straddled his hips.
“Wh—” Joel huffed in protest, pushing at hands all too eager to act on his belt, “You still haven’t answered me.”
“What was the question?” you returned, careless.
But you knew it clear as day: Are we alright?
The old man didn’t stop the path of your hands, but he certainly made a show to try and pretend to stall their speed. He watched, curiosity piqued and shame still roiling in his gut, and he let you unbuckle, unzip, and finally free him from the confines of his briefs. He sighed.
It was then that you felt him hard against your palm, firm as he was before. Your mouth watered even more. When your eyes flitted up to his for permission, you didn’t expect to find resistance there, so the subsequent grip around your wrist took you back. Joel seized hold of your hand in his, and, rather than stopping you completely, he paused it in place. Sank your touch into his groin, as though tempting you with the outline of his bare length.
That was cruel. He knew what feeling him did to you.
“You know exactly what question I meant.”
What such a move would do to any girl in your position—freshly fucked and eager for more—and in your bed, no less. You didn’t care for the guilt Joel harbored today; he didn’t get to demand answers you weren’t ready to give.
“What? Feeling bad for boning your friend’s kid all of a sudden?” You smiled, voice devoid of any humor as you tried to pivot subjects, “Didn’t look like that downstairs.”
Shame flared in Joel’s eyes. Two could play at this game.
His grip tightened around your wrist, and he kept it still. In spite of this hold, you were able to flex your fingers the tiniest bit and take him snugly in your hand. He held you, and you held him, and for the next few excruciating moments, that was all either of you could do. Until:
“I would do it again.”
And then Joel’s touch was moving yours. Rubbing him. Seizing your hip with his free hand and rocking you back.
Making you hold his gaze while his dick swelled bigger.
“I don’t care if that’s wrong,” he added through his teeth.
“Wrong,” you mumbled absently. Touching him more.
It was as though you both were rooted in place by warring feelings—Joel by guilt, and you by knowing. Needing each other, and being unable to break apart. Words flowed like molasses; their end was no less sweet.
“I’d fuck you anywhere you asked if you would just—” Joel broke off suddenly, taking a breath, “Forgive me.”
Please.
The eyes beneath yours were pained with remorse.
You squeezed him tighter, and you stared more carefully.
“Here?” It left you more like a breath.
“Here.”
Your skull still buzzed. Your vision still wavered some. You could scarcely hope to know what it was that made this man a worse intoxicant than every drink you’d guzzled that morning, but the way he reached for your body and slid you back in the bed made answers pointless anyway. All you needed to know was that he wanted you, too. You could sort out the rest of it later; you let him lie you down
Joel was out of place here, that much was obvious. Clearly, no man skating through middle age belonged in the bedroom of a girl as young as you—and that was overlooking the paternal connection altogether—but all the same, he guided you back. Trailed your body with his. If it weren’t for the greys and the striations on his face and the legions of freckles bred from decades spent baking under the sun, he might’ve struck you as a much younger man. His every move now seemed to show it.
His hands shook like yours had earlier.
He watched you slide under the covers, then swallowed.
“Still cold?”
“Yeah.”
He gave you a long look, as though considering what to say. You beckoned him over and decided to talk for him.
“Like father, like daughter, I guess,” you added. Teasing.
You could hear the groan start to bubble in his throat, but Joel let you pull him in. He climbed under the sheets.
Like a much younger, doubly nervous teen around his date past curfew, he slotted between your legs with a moment’s indecision. He shed his clothes but was slow. Your gaze flitted to his torso, then his legs, and watching him gingerly undress, you couldn’t help but grin a little.
Both of you were naked in under a minute. Joel’s body was like a furnace searing hot between your thighs.
And while you smiled at him, he frowned down at you.
You might’ve expected anything next, except hearing:
“We aren’t gonna be parents anytime soon, right?”
You choked.
“What?”
Joel blinked.
“The Plan B, I mean,” he went on, color crawling up to his cheeks. He blinked harder, like he’d been dreading this, “Wasn’t sure if you ever got your…yeah. Just wonderin’.”
Just wondering.
After Joel’s Cenozoic-era condom had broken the first time you two had ever fucked, you realized you hadn’t bothered to tell him if you ended up getting your period. He’d probably been trying to ask that over the course of several dozen unanswered texts and calls the last month, but you’d been radio silent. Your drinking today had to have given the truth away, but you still felt a pang of guilt
You admired his sincerity. You didn’t want to mock it.
But when your lips twitched the tiniest bit, Joel’s did too. He’d heaved a sigh of relief before you’d even answered him in words, and for a moment, things were easy again.
“I’m sorry, Miller. That probably had you scared shitless.”
“It did.”
And, under most other circumstances, you probably would’ve expected him to chastise you for it a little. Chide you for your immaturity and shake his head, because this was always how it went. But he didn’t.
Joel smiled back instead, and he kissed your forehead.
You blinked, shortly summoning words to try and deflect.
“I mean, like…can you even imagine us having a kid?”
“I can’t. I think I’d be…” Joel trailed off, at a loss.
“Pissed to be changing diapers in your fifties, I bet,” you finished for him, and that made him laugh. You joined in, grinning, and for a second you almost forgot he was still between your legs. His cock softened against your belly.
“You’d be a hot mom. I’d be an old dad,” he countered, suddenly lowering his face to kiss and nuzzle your neck. When the ebbs of your laughter were renewed in a fit of giggles, and your feet kicked helplessly under the covers as he used his mouth and hands to tickle you then, you had to choke through your words—‘Joel, stop, I mean it.’
“Ticklish and hot, I forgot.”
His fingers were relentless on your ribs. You kicked again.
“Don’t fucking test me. I—I will kick you out,” you warned
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on, then.”
Evidently, the thought of ordering him back downstairs with your dad and Tommy seemed like the least likely outcome at the moment, so Joel kept tickling you. He moved his lips to your ear, about to whisper something stupid and teasing, most likely, when you jerked yourself the other way. You slid just far enough to reach off the bed. While you clawed at your nightstand, Joel simply draped his body over yours and went on kissing and touching and relishing the sounds you were making—even while you were cursing his name under your breath.
“Go. Go. Enough of this shit, Miller,” you finally told him, nudging Joel back and waving something in his face.
“Wh—”
“Since getting knocked up is the last thing either of us wants, and we’ve been terrible about playing it safe…”
It didn’t take long for Joel to recognize what it was. As soon as he’d lifted his head to ogle it, you didn’t let him stare at the box of condoms for more than a second or two before tearing it open. Its seal had still been intact.
“New stash for someone special?” Joel hummed, low.
“Nope. Just you.”
Your old friend didn’t seem to appreciate that remark, returning your smirk with a roll of his eyes, but he took the metallic-wrapped rubber when you offered him one anyway. He tore off the top. He probably would’ve liked to put the thing on, but with all the time and brainless banter that had passed, he had to get himself hard again. He eyed you once, and, wrapping a hand around himself semi-erect, he seemed to want to say something more.
You wouldn’t let him. You kissed him, and he kissed back, and with your legs sliding around the backs of his own underneath the soft, warm sheets, he probably forgot what he was going to say. Your lips and tongues intertwined without needing those words to be spoken, and before long, Joel was growing harder. He sucked in a breath when your hand reached down to touch him, soft.
Joel grunted when your touch replaced his. While you stroked his length, you could see the muscles tense in his stomach. The heft of his belly was smooth, and firm, and protruding with little patches of black and grey hairs, and the man looked so undone already with just your fingers curling over his shaft. You would’ve held him that way for as long as he asked. Would’ve relished the warmth of him in your hand, the way his breaths grew more ragged as he kissed you and let you pump him gently between your body and his. You might’ve mistaken it for something romantic when he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, before pulling away and mumbling, ‘That’s it. That feels real good, sweetheart. You’re doin’ so good.’ But being the way you were, you couldn’t accept such intimacy without wanting to shy away. You pushed his words aside and reached for the condom in his hand, swallowing thickly as you did.
The latex went on quickly. Joel hardly seemed of a mind to try and slow things down with his body just as taut, on edge, and desperate as yours. He planted an arm beside your head, and you guided his length between your legs. It felt cozy. Tender. Nervous like this could’ve been your first. A little strange seeing how you’d done this multiple times before—had started it just downstairs, against a wall and on the couch—and somehow, felt different now.
Joel sank in, and both of you groaned.
“I missed you, baby.”
It came from him all in the same breath. Your walls clenched, and he said it again. You peered up at the man, half-expecting to see his eyes shut and the feeling of you guiding his words more than anything else—he hadn’t meant you, but what was between your legs. But when you looked, you met his gaze. Joel was earnest, clearly.
“Did you miss me?” he panted, hips dragging back.
With the head of his cock drawn all the way up to your entrance, tip stretching that soft, sticky flesh, you could scarcely do more than whimper. You laced your fingers together behind his neck, felt him push in again, and suddenly, the sensations churning low in your gut got warmer. Stronger. They made you want to hold on longer
He felt so big inside you. Overwhelming you with his size and his scent and the way his lips trailed over yours while he fucked you; it all seemed too much to give a response.
Joel kissed you again, and your bodies fell into a rhythm. You squeezed his neck, let out a breathy whine when his cock grazed something soft and sensitive between your walls, and then pulled away fully to look down and watch.
He did too. He kissed the crown of your head, mumbling:
“See how good we fit?”
Those words could’ve sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered at the next thrust, feeling the warmth of his breath still fanning across your face, and you nodded.
Your eyes all but glazed over as you watched Joel’s big, glistening cock disappear and reappear from inside your body, coated with your arousal and the rubber and looking every bit as dizzyingly good as it had before. The wet noises only increased in volume the more he sped up, and with the need blossoming in your stomach, you had no choice but to moan. Joel plunged even deeper.
“Did she miss me, at least? Did she miss her daddy?”
Your walls clenched at those words—‘she,’ ‘daddy.’
Still, you couldn’t speak. You just nodded back.
Joel’s motions grew stronger, and with every stroke inside you, his cock hit something plush and sweet. You had to bite your lip to keep the sounds from coming out too loud, but the effort was almost wholly in vain. The harder he went, the more your throat came to betray you. The more Joel seemed keen on getting you to speak.
“Feels like she does, hon,” he said, tone dulcet and low, “Pussy’s been squeezin’ like she needed daddy here.”
That was true. Your heels dug deeper in his ass, and you felt something tender swell up inside, almost painfully.
Joel was moving your whole frame with the weight of his thrusts—your body bouncing beneath him, the bed creaking under the force, your old childhood room being filled with the sounds of your blooming pleasure and his. Your cunt stretched even more; it begged to be fucked deeper. Though your mouth couldn’t form the words, it seemed Joel was more than able to make out the rest.
He brought his thumb to your clit. He rubbed it, then caught your lips in a hot, steady kiss when a whimper from yours was just about to threaten to tremble out.
“Atta girl,” he grunted against your mouth, “That’s it.”
His hips worked faster. His thumb moved with even more precision, more persistence, as though begging your pleasure to come. You could feel the sweat bead on your skin and his; your bodies seemed to blend together. Your legs tightened around his sides, and while he fucked you and kissed you more fervidly then, you could feel your resolve start to slip. You broke from the kiss, panting.
“I can feel her, honey. Keep goin’,” Joel urged.
You weren’t sure if you could. It felt good.
It felt safe. You hadn’t felt that in a while.
Or maybe just since you’d been away.
You thought of the last, vulnerable state you’d been forced to endure—feeling hurt and betrayed after Joel had lied trying to keep you ‘safe’—and your body tensed. You held tighter, but you also couldn’t lose that feeling completely. You were so close, and there was still something else you couldn’t yet define, or explain.
“Cum for me, baby,” Joel kissed the side of your mouth, knowing the feeling coursing through your body too well, “Take what you need. Just let her feel good. It’s all okay.”
All okay.
Your walls fluttered again; your moans grew breathy and faint as Joel’s cock wedged deeper and deeper and his kisses grew softer along your face. It was evident you were there—you knew you were there—but then, the way you felt was like no place you’d ever experienced before.
You wanted to tell him something.
You met Joel’s gaze, and you almost did. Then he withdrew and fucked back in, and all words were lost.
The headboard thumped against the wall; you didn’t hear it. Joel’s one free hand was cradling your cheek, and his face drew closer, and right when you sensed the man was about to drop another kiss, you felt release, at last.
A snap.
A dizzying blow.
Your climax struck with all the force of a seismic wave, and, at the same time, you could feel Joel groaning, pulsing, spurting thick ropes of cum into rubber while his gaze stayed locked on yours and your body came apart. The look from him was sickeningly soft, even at his peak.
Intimate, again.
You couldn’t help it.
With your legs trembling, cunt spasming, and eyes still plastered to Joel’s, you felt that something resurface. This time, you didn’t have a hope of keeping it inside.
“I— I— I love you, Joel. I love you,” you stuttered out.
Your voice was tight. Your eyes burned with tears you hadn’t even sensed might threaten to appear with it.
You broke down and felt the sudden urge to sob.
And, just as quickly as you did, you shoved him off.
Regret flooded your chest. You shouldn’t have said that.
Joel was slow to move, no matter how much you tried getting him away. He was still in your bed, crowding your space—and worse yet, he was staring at you, eyes wide.
“Baby—”
“Don’t.” Your gaze was still wider. Wild. And remorseful, “I didn’t— I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to say that.”
Joel had pulled out, but he was still between your legs. You slid backward in the bed, cheeks flaming with heat.
He followed.
He reached out.
“Please don’t,” you begged, shaking your head before his touch could find you. Your pulse thundered in your skull.
The sound almost drowned all other noises out.
At the next, you wished it would deafen you completely.
“I love you, too, baby,” Joel said.
No sooner had his palms come to rest on your face when you were shoving them away. Standing up from the bed.
“You don’t mean that. I didn’t mean it. Just— just stop.”
“I—”
“Need to go.”
You hardly realized it, but you were pointing to the door.
Joel was just getting the condom off, about to stand up from where he was, when a new sound startled you both.
The garage door was closing. Tommy shouted your name saying he needed help bringing something in, and for a second, you both froze. It was happening all over again.
You knew you couldn’t risk getting caught another time. Not with your father in the house, unconscious or not. Silently, you thanked your lucky stars for the opportunity afforded by this moment—getting Joel out—and bent to grab his clothes off the floor and throw them, one by one. He dressed, albeit reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you were busy racing to throw on your own clothes, thinking of ways to get him out unnoticed. You heard the door to the garage slam shut downstairs.
“He’s gonna be back any minute. You need to go, Joel.”
“Come with me. We have to talk—”
“I have nothing else to say.”
“But you—”
“I lied. And so did you. Just like before,” you gritted out, “You can spare my feelings—I didn’t fucking mean it.”
He felt bad, that was all. You could see it in his eyes.
The pity, the self-loathing, the guilt; it was all there.
The sight made your stomach turn, and though your legs weren’t steady or sure underneath you in the slightest, you knew you had to go. If Joel didn’t intend on making things easier, you would have to leave first. You felt him reach for you, saw the plea in his eyes and knew how wrong this really was—that you had both fucked up—and couldn’t stay there. Again, you wrenched yourself away.
You didn’t give him the chance to protest. You heard words, dimly, but barely had the sense or self-possession to process one syllable of it, so you left. You bounded down steps, pulse hammering even louder than before, and you didn’t think to turn around or let Joel follow or even remotely allow yourself to stop feeling embarrassed
Leaving was for the best anyway.
If Joel had lied once, he’d lie again.
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Downstairs, you cleaned. You folded laundry.
Joel had snuck out a while ago, having slipped from your room, down to the kitchen, and out the back door while Tommy was busy retrieving beer out of the garage. You’d gone down there to distract the younger Miller brother while Joel packed his shit up and left. Like he was meant to do. Luckily, Joel’s departure was quiet, and Tommy was all too happy to have some help toting cases of Budweiser inside. Your dad and Tess were still fast asleep
And now, nearly half an hour later, you had only to sweep the hardwood floor, fold your clothes, and busy yourself as best you could—or else grit your teeth so hard you could’ve broken your jaw. You were so fucking dumb.
“Almost done?” Tommy poked his head inside the room.
You’d told Joel you hated him last month. One measly fuck and you’re spewing, ‘I love you’? What the fuck?
“Just about,” you replied, dropping an old shirt of your dad’s into the nearest, neatest pile, “You heading out?”
Tommy jingled his car keys in his hand and hummed to say that he was. He had a happy, Alabama-just-beat-the-shit-out-of-Tennessee smile on his face as he stood there
“Yeah, I’m going back to Mando’s now to celebrate and watch another game. Was wondering if you wanted to come along,” he said, leaning against the door frame.
“I would, I’ve just got so much shit to do around here—” Gesturing indistinctly to the mountains of clothing stacked high all about the laundry room, “—cleaning.”
Beating yourself over the head, mentally, for ever telling his older brother that you liked him in the first place. Wishing you could crawl in a hole and wallow alone.
“Aww, that can wait. You’re here the whole week—”
“I know. But I gotta keep an eye on my old man, too.”
You rubbed at your face and pretended to get re-invested in a pair of socks with two gaping holes. Your father wouldn’t discard old, ratty clothes to save his life.
Then Tommy was at your side. Pressing against the washing machine and watching you work. Smirking.
“By ‘your old man’ do you mean your dad…or Joel?”
For the second time that day, you almost choked. You tried not to let it show but were sure you failed miserably.
“I— I— what?” you huffed, all terse, feigned incredulity.
“Don’t play stupid. Only suits my dumbass brother,” Tommy returned coolly, turning to face you head-on, “You sound just like him whenever I ask about you.”
“Whatever he’s said—” you started again.
“I heard his truck hightailing it out of here while you came down to distract me. Heard his footsteps, too.”
While your cheeks warmed, Tommy’s smile only grew.
“Aaaaand the headboard was bangin’ pretty loud—”
“Alright!” You threw your hands up, “Fine. OK. Enough.”
Your surrender was fast, far too grossed out to fight it.
You closed your eyes and wanted to die. From next to you, you could hear Tommy’s amusement morph into laughter. It didn’t take much to wring the truth out of you, and for a man who knew you as well as he did, there was really no telling where this would end. Once Tommy Miller called bullshit, there was rarely ever room to argue.
The last time that had happened, he’d sent you and Joel packing to abstinence camp and had never looked back.
Why he was finding humor in this now was beyond you.
You dropped the socks you were holding. You shot him a look as if to ask him just that, and the man shrugged.
“I know y’all skipped out on camp. Could’ve guessed there was some sort of fight between you two after that, because I’ve never seen Joel so goddamn grumpy for—”
“Yeah, well,” you cut in, not wanting to hear the rest, “That’s over now. Seriously. Today was just a fluke.”
Before he could even try to voice his disbelief, you added:
“Just don’t tell my dad about this. Please.”
By the look in his eyes, you could tell that was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but you asked it all the same. Tommy scoffed, and then he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest like he couldn’t believe a word you were saying now. Like a smug big brother who didn’t know how else to say that you made a terrible liar.
Because that was what he’d been to you before you ever got with Joel in the first place: a good, no-bullshit friend. The recognition of this made you feel even worse inside.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said at length, much to your surprise.
His arms constricted even tighter against his chest and his eyes scanned yours thoughtfully before continuing.
“I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in y’all’s business. What you and Joel do is up to you—I just hated the thought of things, uh…going south. Making it weird between you.”
“Like now,” you said quietly.
A beat.
Tommy scratched his neck.
“Yeah, a little like that,” he replied, breathing out a laugh, “But that’s alright. Joel’s my brother, and I love him, but the man can’t navigate a relationship to save his life. Much less with a girl your age. So just…keep that in mind. I don’t wanna see either of you getting hurt.”
In other words: don’t be stupid and get attached.
‘You’re right,’ was all you knew to say. All you felt capable of telling him now, after what had come to pass that day.
Frankly, you didn’t need to speak another word to get the gist of what he meant, and like he’d said, it wasn’t on him to dictate how you handled things with Joel. The message was clear enough, and the truth was all there.
You couldn’t make this work.
Joel wouldn’t make this work with a girl as young as you.
He’d only said what he said today out of habit—a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t know what the fuck else to say when his best friend’s kid he’d been banging spilled out ‘I love you.’ And you didn’t blame him for it. But you also couldn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t when all this was ever supposed to be was a casual fuck here and there. You’d been confused and needing to feel safe. He had wanted access to something he shouldn’t have, and now that the thrill of that was wearing off, he felt trapped and cornered into saying what he had, for your sake. The best thing for the two of you now was a clean break, before any more feelings got muddled and misspoken and brought to anything worse than they already were.
It would suck for a while. You knew it would. The next second had you leaning in unconsciously, watching Tommy uncross his arms and pull you in for a hug.
This would really suck.
You buried your face in his chest.
There wasn’t much to say; still, Tommy said it best:
“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine. I know you will.”
2K notes · View notes
lulunothulu · 5 months ago
Text
“So you think I’m hot?”
Tyler Owens x Reader
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Summary: Tyler has gotten on your last nerve and you finally snap, leading to an ego boost on his end.
Contents: light teasing, cockiness, maybe swearing, fluff
A/N: for the sake of this fic, just pretend Kate and Tyler didn’t meet and it was you instead
“So when are you gonna let me take you out on a chase?” Tyler asks from his truck bed. “You know, actually have some fun instead of being a stick in the mud over there?”
You were on your way to your base camp a few cars down, Kate and Javi were waiting for you to give them your report for their data sequencing. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before smiling sweetly.
“How about when you acknowledge that what you do is reckless and irresponsible?”
Tyler smiles softly before saying, “Well if I did that, then you’d never join us on a chase.”
You only squint out a smile before rolling your eyes and walking toward where Kate and Javi wait.
“What was that all about?” Kate asks, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Tyler being Tyler,” you say. To Javi, you ask, “So all you guys needed was the report right? I kinda wanna catch some sleep for tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Javi says. “I think we’re all set here. I’m just gonna put it into the computer and then call it a night.”
“Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
You begin the walk back toward your hotel room, sighing when you realize you have to pass by Tyler again.
Though you find him aggravating, you can’t help but admire his audacity and fearlessness. The man knows he’s hot shit and uses it to his advantage, playing it off as a high ego.
“Hey, Y/N!” You hear Tyler call out again.
You stop in your tracks and slowly face him, your face schooled in your famous resting bitch face.
“What?” You respond.
“I just wanted to say I think you should smile more,” he tells you, a smirk slowly growing on his lips. “Why don’t you smile for me?”
Your blood was boiling, why the fuck would he ask you that? Why would he say that? And why did your heart flutter when he smiled at you like that?
“Why should I?” You spit.
“I don’t think she likes it when you say that, Ty,” Boone says, popping up from the spot he was squatting at behind the truck.
“C’mon, she knows I think she’s a good looking girl,” Tyler teases, eyes still on you. “I’ve been asking her out for weeks.”
“The look on her face looks like she might tear your head off,” Boone points out.
“Nah, she won’t do that.” Tyler smiles down at you before jumping off the truck and taking a few steps toward you. “She’d hate it if I wasn’t there to keep her on her toes. Besides, look at those eyes, they’re screaming to smile for me.”
You had had enough. It’d been weeks of shameless flirting and teasing from him. Not to mention the disrespect to your career, insinuating that you had a stick up your ass and didn’t know how to have fun.
You were lots of fun. Just ask Kate and Javi. 
“What’s your deal with me, Owens?” You start. “Is there something we need to work out? Because from the moment you laid eyes on me, it feels like you’ve been taking the absolute piss out of me. Constantly teasing me and the way I do my job.”
“Wait, I’m not—”
“Just shut the hell up!” You exclaim. “I’m so sick and tired of your constant teasing and disrespectful comments. And if I wanted to smile for you, I would. Just because we all know you’re hot as shit, doesn’t mean I have to comply to everything you want.”
Tyler only smiles, chuckling a bit.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You ask, annoyance and anger leaking out of your ears.
“So you think I’m hot?” Tyler asks.
You only blink, thinking back to what you had just said. You squint, feeling the blush creep up your ears and to your cheeks before walking off and yelling, “Oh fuck off, Tyler.”
A/N: Should I write a part two to this? Maybe she finally falls for him?? 👀
PART TWO IS UP!!!
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winterarmyy · 7 months ago
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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.
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Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.
Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Words: 6.7k++
Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.
Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.
She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 
And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.
Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.
Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.
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y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 
The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.
Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.
She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.
"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."
Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"
Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."
y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 
Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.
She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.
All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.
Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 
"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."
y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.
Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 
The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.
And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.
y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."
Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."
y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.
She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.
At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 
"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 
Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.
Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"
Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.
Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"
"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.
She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.
"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."
y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"
But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 
y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.
Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."
The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."
Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.
A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.
Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.
Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 
The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.
As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.
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As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.
"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 
Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.
Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.
She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.
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Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.
"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.
She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.
Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.
Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."
Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.
Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.
As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."
Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.
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The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.
Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.
She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.
As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.
As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.
And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.
Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.
Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.
But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.
He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."
With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?
y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.
The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.
In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.
As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.
Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.
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The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.
Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.
"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.
But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.
Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.
It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.
But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.
"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."
y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."
Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."
Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.
y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 
In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.
Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."
y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.
"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."
But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."
y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.
With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."
As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.
"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.
In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.
Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.
Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.
Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.
The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.
"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."
"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 
Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.
"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 
He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."
Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."
She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."
With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.
"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."
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In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.
Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.
But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.
His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."
Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."
But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."
Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.
"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."
But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.
For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.
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The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.
"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.
Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.
For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.
"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"
Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"
Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.
She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.
Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."
Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.
Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.
With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.
The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."
Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍
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moody-alcoholic · 25 days ago
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On a Wing and a Prayer
Part 2 - Not Guilty
As promised part 2 because I have no self control... CW: Dead dove don't eat , torture, no comfort yet.
Previous parts - masterlist - next
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It's different today. They’ve switched tactics.
John came in with a box. Simon reaches in and pulls out a snake. 
They’re using your fear against you. 
Something you told them in confidence, a secret, something vulnerable you told them. It brings tears, makes a pit form in your stomach as you remember you can’t move. You can't escape.
John holds your head in place as Simon agitates the snake causing it to hiss. You try to turn away but John holds you firm.
“Tell us what you know and this can all go away.” His voice is low in your ears. 
“I don’t know anything.” You whimper as Simon moves closer. You’re kicking your legs, or trying to. They're strapped down just like your arms. You’re powerless to stop them, what if it's poisonous? What if it bites you? 
You never thought you would prefer a method of torture more then another. You never thought you would be in this position. The water-boarding still continues. Only this time when you open your eyes you’re face to face with your biggest fear. 
You've not screamed before. Even as they hurt you, even as they broke your resolve. You’re screaming now. It feels like a fever dream, between the lack of oxygen and the constant presence of your fear, you can't even focus on John's questions. 
“I don't know anything, please make it stop!” You beg as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, your head hanging down as you sob. You’re cold and tired, your body shaking. It’s been hours, at least you don’t think you’re afraid of snakes anymore.
The door to the room fly's open, you look up, it's Kate with a tablet in her hands and a look of horror on her face.
“It's not her.” She says. John takes the table out of her hands. “We’ve seen the messages. We have the guy.”  Someone else is in the room now pushing past her. Kyle, he comes straight over to you. He presses his warm hands on your face. You try to smile at him but you can’t.
It almost doesn't feel real. 
“Laswell, go get a medic!” It's Kyle’s voice level and controlled. You feel your restraints loosen and you slump against Kyle. There's another hand on your shoulder. 
Maybe it's not over yet.
“No! Don’t fucking touch her.” The hand leaves as Kyle pulls you to your feet wrapping your arm around his shoulders supporting you as you lean against him.
You can’t remember the last time you were on your feet. You look back. You see Simon looking at the tablet now, John's eyes focused on you as Kyle pulls you closer, his arm gripping your waist. 
You dont think you’ve ever seen that look on John’s face before. 
Fear.
You barely register meeting the medics halfway to the medbay. Hands touch you, your body is moved but you stay silent only nodding or shaking your head at them.
You’re poked and prodded, your body examined from head to toe. Kyle is always there, you see him out of the corner of your eye. His arms crossed his gaze soft, sometimes talking to the medics.
Then you’re alone again. 
Your mind turns to Johnny, he's in this hospital somewhere. Fighting for his life. He’s all you care about now. 
You dont cry again. You want to, tears threatening to spill every time you remember what happened. John's face, his shouting. Simon's eyes, hard and dark like daggers digging into you. 
They’ve made requests to see you. You refuse. The only person you’ll see is Kyle but even then you barely speak a word to him. He keeps you updated on Johnny's condition. He avoids topics about Simon and John. 
He still asks you every time he visits if you’ve got anything you want to pass onto them. That's when you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. Hoping you haven’t betrayed yourself. 
You’ll never let them see you cry again.
That night you sneak out of your room. Your body is stiff and sore but you don’t care, you want to see Johnny. You need to see him. After a little bit of searching you find his room, he’s alone on the other side of the ward. 
That's when you cry, when you see his body laid up in bed connected to tubes and wires one even shoved down his throat breathing for him. You pull a chair up next to his bed, you take his hand in yours lacing your fingers with his. 
This feels like your fault, maybe it is. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve spent the last few days being told it is. You stroke his arm telling him how sorry you are. That's where you let the tears out. You let yourself be upset with them, angry at them, the people you love. 
Or maybe loved. 
They’re not the same people you knew before you were locked in the room. And neither are you.
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next I need overprotective Kyle in my life Banners by firefly-graphics
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rememberwren · 3 months ago
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I’ve thought of surrogate!reader with Ghoap but lately I’ve been obsessed with the thought of established Ghost/fem!reader with sperm donor!Johnny and it’s a whole new dynamic okay
Another month, another bunch of negative pregnancy tests. I can see you crying in the bathroom when Simon admits that he went and had himself tested even though you both promised not to, and he knows that he’s the one at fault. Sperm ain’t sperming. You’re not the broken one, he is.
Of course you don’t see it that way. But you finally decide to put away dreams of carrying a child of your own and instead start thinking of adoption.
All the people in your life are having children now—Gaz’s second daughter’s first birthday arrives and you’re surrounded by people politely (and not so politely) wondering when it will be your turn to have a baby. “Always asking you, but never asking me,” Ghost says dryly to make you feel better, hand on his stomach. “Maybe I want to carry the baby.”
Even Price has a child on the way—and Kate and her wife don’t want to adopt but they regularly foster. Everybody has kids in their lives.
Everybody except Johnny.
On the way home from the party Ghost brings it up—Johnny was real good playing with the kids. He’s a nice kind of guy. Good genes. Would you like to have his baby, you think? And what? It breaks your brain a little bit. But you can’t stop thinking about it. So one day Ghost has him over and the two guys go out into the yard and talk, and they’re out there for forever it feels like as you wash the same dish over and over again, watching them through the window above the sink, but then they come back and Johnny has agreed. It’s a yes. Anything for you and for his lieutenant. Ghost has saved his life enough times over in the past years; this is just one way that Johnny can pay him back.
At first you all keep it strictly above board. Johnny jerks off in the bathroom into a cup, hands off the specimen and disappears into your living room to let you and Ghost handle the insemination. Cheers.
Ghost doesn’t mean to make it sexy, gently spooning Johnny’s seed inside you—there’s just something taboo and dirty about it that sets you off. Ghost touches you so soft and gently, spreading your folds, playing with your clit, feeding the sperm into your hungry little cunt. And he makes you cum at the end because that wive’s tale is always at the back of his mind, that cumming helps with conception.
And it doesn’t work. The next month you’re devastated—and perhaps just as devastated as you is Johnny. It’s touching, almost endearing the way he takes it to heart so much, feeling like this failure was his own.
Ghost is the one who suggests that the three of you hadn’t done it right. It hadn’t been by the book. Sperm can’t live long outside the human body. The solution is simple: you and Johnny should have sex. You start stammering disapproval of the idea and have listed a whole host of reasons why it’s inappropriate when you notice Johnny’s silence. He’d do that for you. Wouldn’t be a hardship either; you’re a beautiful woman, he’s always thought so. Which is how you end up with your legs wrapped around Johnny’s waist while Ghost sits beside you in bed, reminding Johnny to make you cum. Because it helps.
And the next month, Simon and Johnny are both pacing holes in the floor outside the bathroom while you take your tests. When the door finally opens, you don’t need to say a word. The expression on your face says everything. It worked. You’re pregnant.
That should have been the last and only time Johnny fucked you with Ghost.
But it isn’t.
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screaminglygay · 2 months ago
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KINKTOBER (day 10)
pairing: darkish!marvel ladies x fem!reader, wanda x reader, natasha x reader, kate x reader, yelena x reader, carol x reader, maria x reader - multiverse
summary: you find yourself shyly admitting your desire to be with them... and they love it
warnings: possessive behavior, teasing, edging, dirty talk, swearing
wordcount: 3.9k
an: last day of kinktober wohoo, enjoy halloween my little gays and be safe!!!
part one here!
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Hours later, you’re sprawled across the bed, Wanda´s? Natasha´s? You´re not really sure, feeling a hazy warmth as the adrenaline fades and soft laughter fills the room. You’re nestled between Wanda and Natasha, each of them gently stroking your hair. Kate lies at the end of the bed, propped on her elbow, eyes glinting with a lingering mischievousness as she watches you with a fond, satisfied smile. While Carol is taking a shower and Maria is just sitting in the chair.
“Look at her,” Kate murmurs, her tone laced with both awe and amusement. “We might have worn her out.”
Wanda hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Worn out or not, she’s still perfect,” she whispers, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. There’s an undeniable pride in her gaze, something that feels as possessive as it is affectionate.
Natasha smirks, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, her expression softer than usual. “Precious is an understatement,” she says, her voice still rough but now tempered with a quiet admiration. “I think we might have a problem if anyone else finds out how amazing she is.”
You chuckle weakly, warmth blooming across your cheeks as their words sink in, and Wanda gives your hand a squeeze, her thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles. “Don’t worry, malysh,” she murmurs. “You’re ours. We’ll make sure of that.”
Kate lets out a laugh, reaching over to give you a playful poke on the arm. “Hey, remember, Captain gets all the best cuddles,” she teases, eyes twinkling. “I wasn’t joking earlier. So make some room for her too.” She winks, making the girls roll their eyes.
Carol steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from the shower, wearing only a loose tank top and shorts. She glances over, a smirk tugging at her lips as she takes in the scene of you nestled among the others.
“Looks like I missed the after-party,” she murmurs, eyeing the way Kate’s hand rests on your arm and Wanda’s fingers trace gentle circles on your shoulder. She raises an eyebrow at Natasha, who’s standing up and adjusting her clothes.
Natasha gives Carol a knowing look and nods. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just have to… deal with something.” The tone in her voice is vague but carries weight, and the other women exchange glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
You, however, just watch as Natasha slips out the door, wondering what exactly she has to handle. But before the thought settles, Carol slips onto the bed beside you, drawing your attention back to the moment. Her arm wraps around you with a lazy familiarity, pulling you against her as she gives you a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Missed me already?” she teases, her voice low and warm, her fingers trailing down your arm in a way that sends a pleasant shiver through you.
You chuckle, nestling into the warmth of her embrace. “Maybe,” you say, trying not to sound too eager, though the comfort of her presence makes your heart flutter.
Kate grins, leaning over to you, “careful, or Captain here will get spoiled by all the attention. Next thing you know, she’ll be monopolizing all your time.” Her voice is teasing, her eyes gleaming as she shoots Carol a challenging look.
Carol chuckles, tilting her head as she meets Kate’s gaze. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Bishop. As if you don’t hog enough time with her already.”
“Both of you,” Wanda interjects, her tone light but possessive as her hand smooths over your arm. “We all know who she comes to for the real quality time.” She smirks at you, her fingers curling around yours in a gentle but unmistakably possessive hold.
You feel your cheeks flush under their collective attention, a warm glow settling over you as each of them stakes their playful claim. Maria, still sitting in the chair by the bed, shakes her head with a soft smile, watching the scene unfold with a quiet amusement.
“I mean, can you blame her?” she teases, crossing her legs and leaning back. “With all of us making sure she feels… appreciated, she’s got it pretty good.”
Carol chuckles, tightening her arm around you and brushing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll keep you occupied until Nat gets back. We can’t have you getting bored.”
Wanda leans in close, her voice a soft murmur against your ear. “Or distracted. We like keeping you right where you belong… with us.” Her lips brush your cheek, her gaze lingering as if daring you to look away.
As you sink deeper into the warmth of their embrace, a faint thought tugs at the back of your mind. Where did Natasha go? You can’t help but wonder, a trace of curiosity and concern flickering through you.
But before you can follow the thought any further, Wanda’s fingers brush your cheek, and you glance over to find her looking at you with a knowing smile. Her gaze is soft yet focused, and for a second, you feel as if she’s reading every unspoken question in your mind. Wanda’s eyes narrow slightly, a subtle, affectionate warning, as she exchanges a quick glance with the others, a silent cue for them to keep your mind occupied.
Carol picks up on it immediately, shifting closer to you and giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Pretty little thing,” she teases, her tone light as her hand trails down your arm. “are you here with us?”
You hum, Wanda looks at you, pulling your attention back to her as she strokes a finger along your jawline, her eyes glinting playfully. “Let Natasha handle her business, malysh. She’ll be back soon.” Her words are soft but intentional, grounding you in the moment.
Kate leans forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she tilts her head. “Or are you just that eager to get rid of us?” She arches a brow, her grin widening as she watches you, daring you to respond.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Not at all. You all make it… pretty easy to stay right here,” you admit, warmth pooling in your chest under their collective attention.
Maria’s voice joins in, her tone smooth but with a hint of playfulness. “See? Nothing to worry about, sweetheart.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a satisfied smile. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”
As you sink deeper into their warmth, a sudden, pleasant haze settles over you, a fuzzy, dizzying sensation that leaves your mind feeling light and blissfully blank. Each touch, each brush of their fingers on your skin, starts to feel heightened, like every sensation is magnified a thousand times over. Your senses are filled with them, the soft murmurs, the warmth of their bodies.
You feel a soft, warm pulse at the edges of your mind, almost like a lullaby. Your eyelids flutter, and you catch Wanda’s gentle smile, her gaze holding a spark of focus. Her fingers trail along your arm, featherlight and soothing, and the faint traces of questions about Natasha and everything beyond this room begin to slip away. In this moment, there’s only the soft laughter of the others around you, only the warmth spreading through you like the gentlest wave.
You notice the way the others glance at each other, small smirks and knowing looks passing between them. Carol’s hand finds yours, her thumb brushing along your knuckles, and the touch feels so overwhelmingly perfect that it melts any lingering thoughts from your mind. Kate’s laugh breaks through the fog, and she gives you a playful nudge, bringing you fully back into the comfort of the moment, leaving everything else forgotten.
The world outside this room disappears entirely, replaced only by the shared laughter, tender touches, and the feeling that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be wrapped in their warmth and undivided attention. Maria smiles and sends Natasha a simple text, "We got it all secured here, Wanda took care of it."
The morning light filters into the room, waking you gently. As you stretch and sit up, you realize you’re alone. Wanda, Kate, Carol, and Maria have all gone, leaving only the faintest scent of them behind and a folded note on the pillow next to you.
Good morning, gorgeous. Thought we’d let you get some extra sleep, didn’t want to wake you. See you later. Love, W.
You smile, tucking the note to your chest as you savor the quiet moment, replaying the warmth of last night in your mind. But then you remember something else. Yelena’s invitation, her mischievous smile as she’d told you to come to her room once you were finished with the others. A thrill of excitement rushes through you at the thought, and you slip out of bed, quickly freshening up and making your way down the hall to her room.
The door is slightly ajar, and you hear a faint hum coming from inside. You knock softly, pushing it open to find Yelena leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her expression one of smug satisfaction. She straightens when she sees you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Took you long enough,” she teases, her eyes twinkling as she beckons you closer. “Thought you might’ve forgotten about me after all that… attention from the others.”
You step into the room, closing the door behind you, feeling the familiar warmth spread through you as she studies you, a playful edge in her gaze. “Oh, trust me, I didn’t forget,” you reply, trying to match her confidence. But there’s something in the way she looks at you that makes your pulse quicken.
“Good,” she says, her tone lower now as she takes a step toward you. “Because I’ve got some ideas of my own, and I’ve been waiting long enough.”
As she pulls you into her arms, the events of last night fade into the background, your focus entirely on her. And with the same sense of warmth and safety from the night before, you let yourself be fully present, knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be - surrounded by those who treasure you.
"Alredy this needy?" Yelena chuckles as she feels you bucking your hips.
You open your mouth to protest, but the words catch in your throat as she leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “What’s the matter?” she teases, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “Cat got your tongue?”
Her fingers find their way to your chin, lifting your gaze to meet hers. The confidence in her eyes is enough to leave you feeling completely flustered. “You know,” she says, drawing out each word, “I could get used to seeing you like this... speechless and staring at me like I’m the only one in the world.”
You swallow, desperately trying to keep your composure, but Yelena only grins wider, clearly enjoying how easily she has you unraveling. “Aww, don’t tell me you’re already getting shy on me,” she taunts, her voice laced with that familiar sarcasm. “You weren’t so shy with the others last night, were you?”
You try to answer, but her hands slide to your waist, pulling you even closer, and any coherent thought melts away. She leans back slightly, studying your face with a smug expression, fully aware of the effect she has on you.
“Oh, look at this mess,” she purrs, feigning sympathy as her thumb brushes lightly across your cheek. “All flustered… just from me standing here. I didn’t even have to do anything.” She chuckles softly, and the sound sends another shiver through you.
Her fingers tap against your waist as she tilts her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You think you can handle me, детка?”
Finally finding your voice, you manage a breathless, “Yes.” But even you can hear the doubt in your tone, and Yelena’s smirk grows, clearly reveling in the power she holds over you.
She chuckles, shaking her head. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart,” she says, her voice softening slightly, though the teasing glint never leaves her eyes. “Just remember, I don’t make things easy.”
And with that, she leans in, her lips brushing yours, a lingering, torturous pause that leaves you yearning for more.
Before you can process what’s happening, Yelena’s hands are on your shoulders, gently but firmly pushing you back until you’re lying on the bed, looking up at her. A wicked grin spreads across her face as she leans over you, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face before trailing down your arm.
She dips her head, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both soft and intoxicating, leaving you completely breathless. Her lips move with a practiced ease, each kiss sending butterflies tumbling through your stomach, and you find yourself melting under her touch, any semblance of control slipping away.
When she pulls back, you’re left dizzy, caught up in the warmth of the moment, until you feel the light pressure at your wrists. You glance down, realizing that Yelena has tied your hands, her knots tight and secure, the silken fabric binding you to the bedframe.
Your eyes widen, and Yelena bursts into laughter, her expression both proud and amused. She looks down at you with that familiar, confident smirk, clearly relishing the surprise on your face.
“Oh, you really are something special, aren’t you?” she teases, crossing her arms as she watches you struggle with a playfulness in her eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d notice. Took you long enough, though.”
You open your mouth, searching for a response, but her laughter cuts you off, and she leans down, her lips just inches from yours as she whispers, “Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”
She brushes her nose against yours, her eyes dancing with mischief. “What’s the matter? You didn’t think I’d let you get away so easily, did you?”
You tug at the binds, but Yelena’s knots are impeccable, each one a testament to her talent and training as a spy. She watches your efforts with a smirk, her fingers tracing along your cheek as she murmurs, “Oh, you’re too easy to fool. But that’s what makes you so much fun.”
Her voice is soft yet laced with amusement, and you can feel the heat rise.. You realize she’s enjoying every moment of your reaction, her own satisfaction evident in the way her smirk widens.
“Relax,” she purrs, giving your tits a light squeeze. “I’ve got you all to myself, and you’re not going anywhere.”
Time blurs as Yelena’s hands roam over you, her hands everywhere. She keeps you right on the edge, bringing you so close but never quite letting you tip over. Each time you think she’s finally going to let you cross that finish line, she pulls back, she chuckles at your frustrated whimpers.
Hours slip by, and every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, a mixture of yearning and helplessness. Yelena, always just out of reach, seems to be thoroughly enjoying your reactions, her smirk growing wider with each plea you let slip.
Finally, when she’s had her fill, she leans over and unties your wrists, her touch gentle despite the teasing grin she wears. You’re left feeling breathless, limbs heavy and mind fuzzy, completely undone by her relentless torment.
"W-what?" You breathe heavily.
Yelena sits back, her eyes dancing with amusement as she looks over your thoroughly wrecked state. “Oh, poor you,” she murmurs with mock sympathy, brushing her fingers over your flushed cheek. Her voice is a soft, teasing purr. “Did you really think I was going to let you finish, hm?”
You open your mouth, still too dazed to respond, and she grins, her tone dripping with playful condescension. “I didn’t say I’d make you cum, did I? Oh,” she whispers, her smirk growing, “you’re just too easy to mess with.”
She leans in, pressing one last, taunting kiss to your forehead. “Maybe next time,” she murmurs, giving you a wink as she stands.
Before Yelena can give you moment of aftercare, the door creaks open, and Wanda steps inside, her eyes landing on the two of you. She tilts her head, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, her gaze drifting from your dazed, messy form to Yelena’s thoroughly pleased expression.
“Well,” Wanda says, her voice a mix of curiosity and amusement as she takes in the scene, “looks like someone’s had a lot of fun.” She gives Yelena a pointed look, smirking. “Mind telling me exactly what you’ve been up to, Yelena?”
Yelena grins, unabashed, stretching out with a look of satisfaction. “Just a little… patience training,” she says, her voice dripping with smugness. She winks at you, “our girl here is a very good learner.”
Wanda’s eyes soften as she watches you, noticing the dazed, needy look in your eyes, and she steps closer, brushing a hand gently along your cheek. “Poor thing,” she murmurs, her voice filled with sweetness and care. She shoots Yelena a half-playful, half-scolding look. “You’ve completely worn her out, haven’t you?”
Yelena chuckles, unrepentant. “She handled it,” she replies with a smirk, but there’s a hint of affection in her gaze as she watches Wanda fuss over you.
Wanda shakes her head, her expression softening as she carefully helps you sit up, supporting you with a gentle arm around your shoulders. “Come on,” she murmurs, her voice soothing as she guides you up. “Let’s get you to your room. Can you walk on your own, malysh?”
You nod and you cling to her, grateful for the warmth of her touch and the gentle way she leads you through the halls. By the time you’re back in your room, you’re feeling incredibly clingy, leaning into Wanda as if you never want to let go.
She chuckles softly as she helps you settle into bed, her fingers brushing through your hair with gentle, soothing strokes. “You did so well,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m here now, alright?"
You nod, a sleepy smile spreading across your face as you nuzzle closer to her, feeling a warmth and comfort that wraps around you like a soft blanket. Wanda’s arms hold you close, her voice a soothing murmur as she reassures you, letting you know that you’re safe and adored, right where you belong.
You stir awake, your eyes fluttering open to the soft rustling of pages. Wanda sits beside you, legs crossed, reading a book, a serene look on her face. She glances down, noticing you’re awake, and her face lights up with a gentle smile.
“Hey sleepyhead,” she murmurs, closing the book and setting it aside.
You stretch and blink, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “What time is it?”
“It’s lunchtime,” Wanda replies, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Time for some food, what do you say?”
Food sounds amazing. Yum.
Her words send a little thrill through you, and you nod, letting her help you up as you both make your way toward the dining area. As soon as you step into the room, you notice the others - Carol, Maria, Kate, Yelena, and Natasha, all sitting around the table, their voices dropping to a hush the moment you walk in.
Natasha’s eyes meet yours, and a sly smile spreads across her face as she gets up and pulls out a chair for you. “Oh, detka, there you are,” she purrs, her voice warm and inviting. “Hungry?”
You feel your cheeks flush as everyone’s attention settles on you, and you nod, settling into the seat Natasha pulled out. Wanda takes the spot beside you, and the others exchange knowing glances before Kate starts piling your plate with food.
“Yelena really did numbers on you,” Kate teases, shooting a smirk across the table at Yelena, who only shrugs with an innocent expression. “Guess she wore you out?”
“Oh, not completely,” Yelena chimes in, her tone dripping with mischief. “Our girl’s tougher than she looks.”
Carol laughs softly, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her drink. “Really? Looks like she’s still a bit… unsatisfied.” Her gaze falls on you, her eyes glinting with playful curiosity.
You shift in your seat, feeling a warm, needy ache flare up at the memory of Yelena’s endless teasing earlier, which none of the others seem to have forgotten. You clear your throat, trying to keep it together, but they’re all watching you with varying degrees of amusement, each one fully aware of your lingering frustration.
Natasha leans in, her lips close to your ear as she murmurs, “Don’t worry, malyshka. We’ll take good care of you.” She pulls back with a wink, her voice dripping with a sultry promise that sends a shiver down your spine.
Maria, leaning back in her chair, gives you an amused once-over. “You know, we all like a challenge. And you? You’re definitely worth it.” Her words hang in the air, a mixture of sweetness and mischief.
Wanda reaches for your hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze, her expression soft but knowing. “Poor thing,” she coos, voice just loud enough for the others to hear. “Looks like we might have to put in a little extra effort today, hmm?”
You squirm, feeling all their gazes fixed on you, the warmth spreading from your cheeks down to the pit of your stomach as they continue to pile on the teasing remarks. Kate chuckles, taking a bite of her food. “Hope you’re ready, sweetheart. We’ve got plenty of energy to make sure you don’t feel… neglected.”
You try to focus on your food, but every little touch, every lingering glance, only heightens the needy ache that hasn’t left since this morning. It’s clear they’re having way too much fun watching you squirm, and as lunch goes on, you realize they have no intention of letting you off easy.
Eventually, Kate leans forward, “so, how about you, sweetheart?” she asks, her voice smooth and teasing. “What’s your opinion on all of this?”
You blink, caught off guard, and you stammer as you try to form a response. “I, um… well…” You can feel the heat rising in your face as all of their eyes turn to you, each one wearing an expression that’s both amused and intrigued.
“I mean,” you start, swallowing hard, “I think… I’d like it… if you all—” You falter under their collective gaze, words fumbling as you try to explain yourself, but each attempt only makes them grin wider.
“Would like it… if we all…?” Carol raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, honey, you can say it. We don’t bite. Well, unless you want us to.”
The others chuckle softly, and Wanda squeezes your hand, her voice a gentle murmur. “Just say what you’re thinking, malyshka. We’re all listening.”
You take a shaky breath, gathering what little courage you have left. “I just… I wouldn’t mind if… if you all…” You trail off, feeling your cheeks go warm, but you push through, your voice barely a whisper. “If you’d all just… have some fun with me.”
The silence that follows is electric, charged with an anticipation that has your heart pounding. Natasha grins, her eyes darkening as she exchanges a glance with the others. “Well,” she murmurs, her tone laced with satisfaction. “There’s no need to be shy with us.”
Maria chuckles, leaning back with an approving nod. “Took you long enough to ask, sweetheart.”
Wanda’s fingers trace lightly over the back of your hand, her expression soft yet possessive. “Don’t worry, malysh,” she murmurs, a smile curling her lips. “We’re just getting started.”
Thank you for reading, also HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
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imdoingsortagay · 3 months ago
Note
Rio x reader x agatha smut where the reader is a brat do they punish reader by edging them over and over and they DP reader 🫣
Let's Get Screwed !
Pairing: Agatha Harkness X Rio Vidal x Reader
Word count: 3.0k words
Summary: They weren't paying you any attention and so you took it upon your hands to get it
Warnings: 18+ smut, Mommy and Mistress kink, Kate is here, Anal( R receiving), fingering ( R receiving), double penetration, sort of soft agatha, toys, soft moment.
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This neighborhood party hosted by Dottie was getting boring. You didn’t want to go at all and wanted to spend the day at home but your neighbors had begged you to join along as they didn’t want to be stuck hearing about the other ladies. 
Rio and Agatha had taken a bit of a liking to you and you didn’t mind the company on nights where you didn’t have to go to work, which lead to a situationship between the three of you.
They were happily married to each other while you were their third, their perfect little pet who did no wrong.  The young adult just out of college focusing on your career.You assumed they just wanted you as a way to spice up their life not knowing that they had feelings for you. 
“ Are you gonna keep staring at them or actually listen to what I’m saying y/n?” Kate ask you. 
“ staring at who……” you play dumb while your best friend rolls her eyes. You were so bad at faking it. 
“ I’m guessing the three of you are still in the fucking stages them,” she says and you nod and burry your head in your hands dramatically. It had also been 2 weeks since they fucked you and all you wanted was their attention, no matter how you had to get it. 
“ Kate babe you have no idea, like works been up my ass about the new social media campaign and I haven’t had a good fuck in,” you pause to think,” 2 weeks Kate”. One of the moms in the neighborhood hears you cuss and gives you a side eye which you ignore and Kate just holds in her laugh. 
“ have you tried discussing your feelings with the woman? “ she offers up. 
“ nah,” and she rolls her eyes. 
“ texted them about talking ?” 
“ tried but schedules didn’t line up ?” 
“ Carrier pigeon ?” Kate asks sarcastically.
“ Does Yelena know a guy who does that because I’m actually considering it,” and Kate slaps your arm at your stubbornness. 
“ maybe you just need to make them jealous so they can fucking talk about their feelings,” she says sarcastically says, giving you a good idea. 
“ Would you help me Katherine ? Oh pretty please Katherine bishop ? Will you help your bestie friend to-“ and before you can say anything else she lightly slaps your arm to get you to shut up. God you annoyed her sometimes but she was up for the cause. 
“ you’re such a brat,” she chuckles and you smile at the compliment. 
“ hopefully it helps me with them fucking me til I can’t think,” you say, Kate not missing a second at she wraps her arm around your waist. 
The rest of the party , the both of you act like a lovesick couple, Kate holding your hand as the both of you sit together listening to Dottie talk about her plants. Mrs Davis calls you both adorable whenever Kate feeds you a chocolate covered strawberry , all while Rio and Agatha just try to keep their cool infront of everyone.
“ y/n is being a brat Aggie,” Rio says in a quiet tone to her wife as they watch you strut around with Bishop. Both ladies knew that Kate had eyes for Yelena so there was no reason to be throwing yourself at her in front of everyone in the neighborhood. 
“ give it another minute babe,” Agatha says watching you and Kate go off hand in hand,” then we’ll take them home and teach them a lesson”. 
“ you think they saw us?” Kate laughs nervously as she’s in no mood to piss off the milfs. 
“ definitely knowing them they’re on the way the way to come and ‘ talk’ or whatever “ you say. 
“ I’m actually down to go y/n,” and you nod as she leads you towards the backyard exit, not before a soft pair of hands takes you away from your friend.
“ Mrs Harness-Vidal !” Kate’s says while you try to hide your blush. Right on cue.
“ Quite the showing affection the two of you were showing huh superstars?” She curiously asks and before Kate can respond Rio appears with a plate of food to take home.
“ Really Rio ? right now ?” Agatha asks.
“ Mrs Davis offered and I wasn’t gonna say no darling,” she defends herself. 
“ Anyways,” Agatha begins again,” where are you and y/n going anyways Bishop?” 
“ probably gonna go back to my place and watch tv ya know ?” Kate attempts to act cool while you snort at her attempt. 
“ we can take y/n back with us babe,” Rio speaks up,” I know you probably still have to take your dog on a walk right ?” 
Kate gives you one more look before you give her a little nod, signaling to her that you’d be okay. 
“ bye y/n,” she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek before heading back to her place. Oh you were fucked after that.
Both ladies keep their composure as the three of you head over to the married couples place, the sound of Rio humming preventing you from freaking out as to what might happen.
“ on your knees pet,” Rio is the first one to speak and you don’t obey immediately, feeling confident to defy her. 
“ actually I think I’ll sit on the couch,” you say and make your way to the couch, Agatha’s face showing a bit of shock.
“ oh so someone wants to be a brat ? Not listening to your mistress when she’s giving you orders?” Agatha asks and you don’t budge.
“ maybe if you had payed attention to me more at the party mommy I would have behaved you think-“ and Agatha shoves you off the couch to your knees. You let out a huff as the older woman chuckles. 
“ listen here slut,” she has a grip on your chin,” your mistress and I are gonna punish you for being a bad pet for us and throwing yourself at Kate like that. You’re ours til the end of time you know that right ?” 
You nod as best as you can, mind feeling a bit fuzzy at her command. 
“ let mommy use your mouth with her fingers while Mistress undresses herself,” she tells you shoving two of her fingers in your mouth to suck, putting on a show for both ladies in front of you. Rio made a show of slowly taking off the dress in-front of you and her wife, taking her time to taunt you like the way she was an expert at.
“ fuck baby you’re drooling and you haven’t gotten my cock in your greedy mouth, she says with fake pity in her voice,” Rio baby, here or there bedroom”.
“ bedroom,” she answers and the three of you head to their main room, Agatha places you in the middle of the queen size bed while Rio places herself behind you. 
“ Now it’s time for mommy to undress herself for us,” Rio says and you feel her arms wrap around your waist. All you can do is watch as the older woman in front of you makes a show of taking off each of her clothes, mind going crazy whenever you see her naked body and acting like it’s the first time you’ve seen her in all her beauty. 
“ Is she wet for us honey? “ Agatha asks her wife and you feel one of Rio’s hands slowly go to your clothed center and pushing past your panties to feel your wetness. You lift yourself up a bit for the women behind you to take off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, Rio helping you spread your legs so Agatha can see just how wet you got. 
“ Should Mommy pay attention to that pussy of your pet? Personally I don’t think you after you decided to be a whore at the party and throw yourself onto Kate,” Rio whispers in your ear and you whine as you try to get any sort of friction from her fingers. Agatha gives her wife a look before she removes her fingers and holds you in place again. You wondered what they had planned for you after deciding to act all lovey lovey with Kate and sassing them.
“ Mommy is just gonna run to the closet and grab some items for us okay doll? Stay here with Mistress and maybe if you behave we’ll be easier on you tonight,” and you nod. 
“ Mommy needs your words pet,” Rio holds your chin so you maintain eye contact with the other woman in the room.
“ Okay, Mommy,” and you see the woman smile before she goes to the closet while Rio moves her hand away from your needy pussy. The other hand that was holding you in place goes to your left tit while the other one goes to your mouth and she puts three fingers for you to suck. She might put up a tough exterior on the outside but when the three of you were in the bedroom, she was always the one to be more gentler that Agatha was which you always appreciated. 
“ Just let Mistress play with your body pet,” she orders and you whine around your fingers,” want you to be ready for what Mommy and I have planned for you”. 
It felt like an eternity as Rio took the fingers out of your mouth to go to your other nipple, giggling a bit as she messes with your bread, enjoying the little noises you make and before you try to protest Agatha comes back with two harnesses, a pair of cuffs, bottle of lube and two Dildos. What you don’t see is Rio smile at the idea her wife was proposing. 
“ Someone is feeling adventurous, “ Rio says as the both of them change places for a bit, Rio take a minute to put on one of the harnesses and you feel Agatha sit behind you. 
“ if you even think about using those hands we don’t hesitate to cuff you,” she spits out as her right hands goes to her cunt, two fingers going into your wet cunt with ease. Agatha goes slow and steady as she gets you ready for Rio’s cock. 
Both ladies give each other knowing looks, the woman under you positioning you so that you’re in a comfy position.
“ Mistress is gonna fuck your pussy a bit baby while I play with your other hole okay pet?” 
Oh , anal tonight ? 
“  Mommy needs your word honey,” Rio says as the cock slowly goes into your went cunt, letting you adjust to the size. 
“ Yes Mommy,” you mumble,” I’ll be good”. 
“ Good job pet, who knew I had to mention using your other hole and all of a sudden you decided to be good for Mistress and Mommy” and Rio giggles at your silence. Agatha wasn’t wrong at all, both ladies know you like the back of your hand. 
“ Honey, be a doll and start fucking that pussy while I get their other hole ready for my cock,” and Rio doesn’t have to be told twice as she takes it slow then you feel one one of Agatha’s long fingers tease your puckered hole, feeling the lubed fingers slowly go inside. 
“ Fuck Mistress,” you moan out as Rio fucks your pussy, expertly thrusting into you and teasing your sensitive nipples while her wife get’s to work on you asshole. Agatha groans under you, the feeling of her long fingers bringing you pleasure and without another thought, your right hand goes to your clits for more pleasure but not before Rio stops her movements. 
“ Oh honey, looks like our pet thinks they can touch their needy cunt whenever,” Rio says in a mocking tone, Agatha quickly grabs the cuffs from the right side of her and puts your arms in a comfy position. 
“ We might just be here all night if you can’t decide to be a good pet baby” Agatha says as she starts to thrust the two fingers in your butt, the woman basking in your glory with Rio goes at a slow pace, waiting for what her wife wants to do to you next. 
“ Is Y/N ready for your cock in their ass Aggie? I can tell from the way their legs are slowly wanting to close that our pet is close,” she laughs as she goes just a bit faster to make the point and rubs your clit as a tourating pace. Agatha does want to mess with you just a bit more but she’d rather want you in a more comfortable position first before anything else.
“ Lay down on the bed Rio and then be a good pet for us and sit on Mistress’ lap,” you nod, Rio slowly pulling out of you and going to sit on the bed, Agatha helping you to go back on her cock. No shame as she observes the way your face scrunches up at the feeling of the cock inside of your needy cunt. You lay your head on the other woman’s shoulder as you compose yourself, Rio rubbing small circles in your back while Agatha puts on her purple to use on you.
“ Now just stay still for us pet while I put my cock in your other hole for us,” she whispers in your ear, Rio whispering praises in your other ear to distract you at the toy went in your ass. It’s not like it’s your first time having something inside your ass, both of them training you with small plugs but it’s the first time having something bigger than just a small sized plug in you. 
“ Fuck honey, we should have done with sooner with y/n,” Agatha groans out as you take her cock so easily, Rio taking that as a sign to slowly start thrusting. You moan at the feeling of the woman under you fucking your pussy while Agatha starts to thrust in and out of you as well. You might just cum soon if they keep it up. 
“ Do you like mommy fucking your ass baby?” And you nod. 
“ Pet,” she pulls your hair,” don’t be rude to your mistress and answer the question”
“ Yes Mistress,” you moan out,” I like mommy fucking my ass, I’m so close”. 
“ Unfortunately because you decided to be a brat and whore yourself out, Mommy and I are gonna have fun using you like the little toy you are for us,” Rio chuckles at the fear in your face. The next hour both ladies is filled with begging, several ruined orgasms and so many noises coming from your pretty mouth as the ladies punish you for your actions from earlier, reminding you never to act out in front of them. 
“ Are you gonna be a good pet for us and never do that shit again” Agatha asks and you nod, brain feeling too dizzy and foggy to say any words. 
“ Use your big girl words pet,” Agatha orders,” unless you want to go another round”. 
“ M’sorry, mommy and mistress,” you whine out,” wanna cum, please, wanna cum on your cocks”. Both of them give each other looks, wondering if they should just cave in and let you cum. 
“ Promise not to act like that with Kate pet?” Rio asks and you nod. 
“ Promise to be ours and only ours baby?” You hear Agatha say in a sweet tone and you again nod, finding it hard to keep holding on until Agatha snakes your hand to your clit. 
“ Cum for us pet,” Rio whispers and you scream as your orgasm hits you hard, Rio helping you stay in place as the older woman slowly pulls out of your other hole first before Rio does. She whisper sweet praises in your ear while you bury your head in her chest. Agatha gets rid of her strap in the bathroom then comes back with a cup of water along with a rag to clean you. 
“ I know you wanna sleep honeybee but Aggie needs to clean you off,” and you nod as Rio helps you get off of her cock, your pussy feeling empty while Agatha can’t help to admire what both of them did to you. You whine at the feeling of the wet rag on your sensitive core but Agatha is the one to comfort you and lay with you after. 
“ Aggie? “ 
“ Yeah honeybee?” She asks you, admiring how adorable you look in her arms. Rio quietly makes her way to your right side so that both ladies are in between your tired body. 
“ Did you mean what you said earlier? Bout me being yours and Rio’s only? “ you asks with a bit of hope in your eyes, too tired to go home if they were to say no.
“ Of course,” she says,” Rio and I want you to be ours, we just hope you feel the same way”. 
“ I agree babe,” Rio adds,” We want to treat you like the princess you are, we didn’t like the way Kate was all over you earlier at the party ya know?”
“ I just wanted to see if you would get jealous,” you mumble as they cuddle with you, enjoying the feeling of Agatha petting your hair while Rio rubs your back. Both ladies chuckle at the revelation, a bit shocked they actually took your bait. 
“ I wonder where you got that from,” the sarcasm from Agatha’s mouth as she looks at her wife who acts innocent, making you giggle. For the rest of the night the three of you all take in the comfort of each other before drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms. 
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flkwh0re · 1 year ago
Text
Moms Friend
warnings: age gap (reader is 19 and Nat is 39), mommy kink (N), blow job, eating out, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cockwarming, a little bit of jealous Nat. That's all!!
Summary: You come home for a bit, and your moms best friend finally makes her move in you.
A/n: This is my first fic i’m posting here!! I apologize if it’s not great!
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You had just pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. A few weeks ago you had planned to surprise your mom and come home. Grabbing your bags from the trunk, you walk to the door knocking. You hear your mother shout something incoherent.
"Oh Детка you're home!" Pulling you into a big hug, you catch a glance of your young brothers inside. They see you too running to the door. "Y/n you're home!!" You smile as Billy and Tommy pull you into a big hug.
Vision, your father, steps out into the hall. His smile fades as he sees you. Your relationship with your father is not the greatest, but with your mother it's amazing. Wanda had treated you better than any other mom you could've asked for, her best friend Natasha as well.
It then dawned on you that you haven't seen Natasha in while, so you figured maybe invite her over or ask her if she'd like to plan something. You pulled out your phone, searching for her contact.
After texting her, it was only a matter of time before she answered. You both decided you'd come to her place for lunch while you're mother and father were at work and your brothers at school.
"Y/n honey, tell me how school has been." Wanda asked with a smile. "Just like always, I'm top of most of my classes." You look at her, a proud smile plastered on her face. "Well isn't that just amazing, Vision." She ask him. He returns nothing but a nod, causing a small frown to creep onto your face.
"Oh, mom I'll be having lunch over at Natasha's tomorrow!" You say excitedly. "That's great! She's been asking so much about you, and I just don't know the answer to everything. My girl is a busy girl." She smiled.
Your evening consisted of catching up with your mom, listening to your brothers and all the things you've missed, and your father ignoring that you were even there. You honestly don't know why your mom is still with him, but you know it's probably for the best.
-
The next day arrives soon, and you're on your way to Natasha's house. Your nerves creep. You love Natasha, but there's always been this feeling towards her. A yearning for her. You know you can't act on it, because it's nothing but a silly childhood crush thought something tells you it's more.
You pull into her driveway, the front of her house being decorated with cute fall decor.
Stepping out of your car, the cold air hits your face only making your shivering nervous body worse.
You knock on her door, waiting a few seconds to hear for footsteps. Then you hear them, and Natasha telling you to give her a second. "Y/n!! Gosh I've missed you." She pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly.
She pulls you inside, and quickly helps you remove your coat. Her eagerness to see you makes you smile wide, and laugh. Oh how you've missed her. Nothing or anyone, even your own mother, compares to how Natasha makes you feel.
You catch up with her on everything, while eating the food she prepared. You were interrupted by your friend Kate blowing up your phone with text then a call. "Hold on Nat, let me get this."
"Y/n I am going to hurt you!" She shouts into the phone, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were in town!!" You giggle at her, "Hey don't you fucking laugh at me!" Only causing your laughter to worsen.
Natasha on the other hand was not laughing, more jealous that her time was ruined with you. She hated that she got this way, but she couldn't help it. She tried to stop, you're her best friends daughter. You're also 20 years younger than her. Her thoughts were interrupted by your words.
"Sorry Natty, that was Kate. She wants me to come over as soon as possible." Her face like stone as she replies with, "So you're leaving?" Your nerves taking over again, leaving you silent. You don't wanna leave Natasha, you'd stay there forever with her. "Well not now, but probably soon. I'll make it up though, we can have dinner sometime."
-
Soon, the two weeks of being home quickly passed. You still hadn't made it up to Natasha, so you decided you'd show up to her house.
She opens the door, shocked to your arrival. "Y/n what are you here for?" She asked confused. "Well I never made up time lost with you, so I brought a desert and figured I'd spend some time with you and watch a movie or something." She felt a smile creep onto her face.
You settled down quickly on her couch, her following behind. You had both decided on watching (insert wtv movie).
Time had passed fast, she knew if she didn't act then she'd probably loose her chance. "Y/n come here, sit in my lap." You quickly scurry onto her lap, only to be stopped in your tracks when you notice her hard-on. "You feel that baby? It's all for you." She attaches her lips to your neck, kissing softly.
"Nat, what are you doing? We can't do this." You say nervously. "Says who? You're an adult sweetheart."
Within minutes she has you on your knees, pulling down her boxers. Her dick springs out, your face pulling a shocked look at her size. She brings her hand to your face, guiding your mouth into her length. You bob your head up and down on her. Gagging noises and her moans fill the air.
You bring her to her orgasm, swallowing everything she gave you. "Such a good girl for mommy. Now get up on the couch." You follow her orders and she helps you remove your clothes. Her lips attach to your nipple, while her hand gropes at your other breast.
"How's that baby? Is mommy making you feel good?"She asked in a sultry tone. "So good." She smiles at your weaker state, as she kisses down your stomach. Her mouth reaching your core, and her noise brushes your clit causing your hips to jolt. She attached her mouth to your pussy, sucking and licking.
As she works her tongue, she adds her fingers to the mix stretching you out. Your orgasm crashing in, in full speed.
She stands up, then aligns her tip with your entrance pushing in slowly. Once you've adjusted to her size, she shows no mercy on your pussy. "That feel good baby? Mommy's gonna fill you up. My little bitch to breed." You can't even form a sentence in your fucked out state.
"Aww poor thing is too dumb, can't even form a sentence. Tell mommy you want her to fill you up with her babies." You tried to spit the words out, but it just came out as an incoherent mess and moans. "Cmon baby tell me or else I won't." You still didn't speak, not until she pulled out of you. You gasp and quickly spoke out. "Please mommy fill me up!"
She smirked, then thrusted herself back into you. In only a matter of seconds you could feel her cuming inside you. She continued her thrust, your orgasm quickly washing over.
She placed a soft kiss on your head, then pulled herself out of you. Laying down behind you, she slid her cock back into you. "No mommy! I can't-" she quickly shut down your please. "Don't worry baby, I have you. Mommy just wants to be in you." She kisses your shoulder as you drift off to sleep.
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scarlethexelove · 4 months ago
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It's Always The Drummer
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Pairing: Drummer!Kate Bishop x Fan!Reader
Word Count: 2799
Warnings: Smut, Kate is a charming, Drumsticks being used for penetration, Service Top! Kate, Kate definitely cums just from getting R off, A bit of Beefy Kate.
Pt 2
A/n: As the last few fics I have to thank @wandamaximoffsbadgirl for helping with this. We have been doing this really fun back and forth were we right the fic together. It's super fun and can be surprising when one writes a something you weren't expecting. As for the fic I just had the idea pop into my head randomly while playing some Fortnite. Please enjoy 😁
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You can't believe that your all-time favorite band is coming to town. You stayed up all night just to get tickets. Sadly, you weren't able to get VIP tickets due to how expensive they are, but you knew if you got here early enough, you could maybe get front row. Your friends stand around you as you all talk about the band. Most of them are obsessed with either the lead singer Natasha, the guitarist Wanda, or bassist Yelena. You, on the other hand, have a big crush on the drummer Kate. 
Kate was perfect on drums, and gods, the smirk on her face when she was performing, made you feel something. You had picked out an amazing outfit. You knew Kate's favorite color was purple, so you went with purple and black. Looking yourself over with all your friends beside you. You'd get to see her up close, you just knew it!
You hear some laughter that sounds familiar from behind you. You turn around and spot her. There she is, Kate Bishop in the flesh. Laughing with Wanda, Nat, and Yelena. You can't help as you start to smack the arm of your friend next to you without even taking your eyes off the women. You knew they'd be doing all the VIP stuff soon, but your friend murmurs. “oww Y/n/n.” As they walk by everyone is freaking out when Natasha calls out. “Each of us will be picking one person to be upgraded to VIP!” And of course everyone is freaking out and hoping to be picked.
You internally start to panic. There is no way you'll get picked. The women walk down the line, but as you watch Kate, her eyes seem to keep flicking towards you. You're pretty sure you're just seeing things, but it gives you hope. Of course, you would take any of them picking you, but if Kate did, you might just die. 
The girls go and pick theirs. Natasha first, then Wanda, and then Yelena. Kate was last. None of your friends had been picked, but then it happened. Kate holds out her hand at you. “Care to join me?” You could die happy right now as you place your hand in yours. Forgetting all about your friends. She pulls you along, and as you round the corner around the building, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you into her side. You can't help the audible gasp that escapes you, and you don't miss the smirk on her face. Your heart races with excitement and fear. You can't believe this is happening. 
Kate leans in and whispers in your ear. “You're very beautiful, you know.” A blush covers your cheeks. “N-Not as beautiful as you-you are.” You stutter. She lets out a melodic laugh at your stuttering. “No need to be nervous.” Her grip tightens on you. “We're gonna have some fun, okay beautiful?” You nod, which has Kate raising a brow at you. She holds the door open for you to let you into the band's entrance. “I need words princess.” You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Yes, um yeah of course.” You curse yourself for how stupid you sound. “My name’s Kate but I'm assuming you already know that.” Her confidence has your knees weak. “Y/n.” You tell her which causes her to smile. “Y/n I like the sound of that. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Kate's words have you blushing as she brings you to a room with her name on it. The opening to  reveal what was a place for Kate to get ready, but there was something that was off and caught your eye. A bed. “U-um what's that for? Don't you guys just um like get ready in here?” Kate chuckles. “I like to take naps before the shows... along with some other activities.” She throws you a wink. 
This is amazing, and you hate to admit the fact you would let Kate do anything, but something nags at the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot?” She looks at you. “Do what?” She asks and you can't tell if she's serious or not. “Bring...um bring girls here?” You can't look at her, but you hear a chuckle. “We each pick someone out, but usually I have no interest in anyone, but since the others do it. I do too, but…” She picks your chin up gently. “You caught my eye tonight. I know you saw me looking pretty girl.”
You're as red as a tomato and she can tell how nervous you are. “Princess we don't have to do anything you don't want to. I will bring girls back because of the others but I don't actually do anything with them. But you seem different... special.” Kate gives you a genuine smile. “I...um…” You feel your head spin and you feel like you're on fire. “I really um.” She leans over and cups your cheeks, whispering in your ear. “Just a yes or no is fine princess. You don't have to explain yourself.” She tells you. “Yes.” You breathe out. 
Kate smiles, pulling you closer by your hips. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours. You melt into her as you kiss her back. Her fingers dig into your hips. “So beautiful.” She mumbles against your lips. A whine escapes your lips. This is all you've ever wanted since you found out about this band and saw Kate. You never thought you'd be here, and you find yourself chasing her lips. For a moment you wonder if she's lying and she does this all the time, but you don't care. You'll show her the best time she's ever had.
Kate picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you to the bed, laying you down as she hovers over you.  “You're so beautiful under me. I could get used to this.” You nod. “Me too.” You pull her down and kiss her again. The kisses get heated as she rolls her hips against you, and you moan out. “Fuck...Kate…” You desperately try to pull her closer. “Mmm need you.” She starts stripping both of you down and you feel like it couldn't be fast enough. You pull at her shirt. “Please.” You whine wanting her to go faster. “Patience princess.” You whine louder. She grips your hips tighter. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She asks and you let out another whine. “Words princess.” She grips your face, your eyes dilating. 
“I'll be good, please I need this. Need you Kate please.” Your words come out fast. “Good girl.” A blush rises to your cheeks at her words. She leans up and pulls her shirt off. You can't help but drool at the site. She obviously had super toned arms from being a drummer, but what you hadn't expected was how perfect her abs were. Before you even realize it, you've reached out and lightly touched them. 
“Like what you see beautiful?” Kate leans down and kisses you, barely giving you time to squeak out a yes. Her tongue pushes past your lips, moving together and letting her take the lead. Her tongue explores your mouth, which only causes you to moan. She gladly swallows your sounds. 
When Kate pulls away, you can't help but chase after her lips as a soft whine escapes you. She is already loving the sounds coming out of you and can't wait to see what else she can pull out. 
Kate gets you undressed, running her hands over your body, admiring every bit of you. She gets up for a moment to finish undressing herself. You hadn't even noticed until now as she pulls them out. Her famous light up drumsticks were tucked into her back pocket. 
You've seen them all over social media over the years, but your focus is always divided between them and the fingers that twirl them around. “Oh wow…” it comes out breathy, and Kate smirks when she notices. “Oh, do you like my drum sticks? I had them custom-made.” She holds them put towards you. “Y-yeah, I always see them in videos.” You mumble slightly embarrassed. She chuckles as an idea pops in her head. “Princess, do you trust me?” You nod faster than you should. You seriously only met the girl, but everything seems so right.
Kate smirks, taking back the sticks and having you lay back. “Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?”She just wants to make sure you are comfortable and that she doesn’t hurt you. “Mhmm yes.” She takes one of the sticks and slowly pushes it inside of you. A moan coming out as you tip your head back at the feeling. It's a new sensation compared to what you've taken before. It's not thick but it's so long. You can hear Kate panting slightly above you as she watches her stick disappear inside of you. She didn't expect to find it so hot, but watching how your greedy cunt just sucks it in has her blinded with pleasure. 
“Fuck princess you're so hot. Look at you taking me so nicely like that. Do you think you can take both?” Kate asks, looking at you with darkened eyes. “I-I can try...mmm please? W-wanna try Kate.” She pulls the stick all the way out which causes a whine to escape you. Your walls clench around nothing as you feel empty now. 
Kate presses the tips of both sticks at your entrance before letting them slowly sink in.  “F-fuck!” You gasp at the stretch. “That's a good girl…” Kate bites her lip and the way she's moving, the sounds she's making you'd swear she was getting off as much as you were from this. The sticks hit the deepest part of you, as you arch up into them. “Fuck...f-feels so good Kate...mmm.” She picks up the pace as she plunges the sticks over and over again into your greedy hole. One of your hands reaching out and reaching around her biceps. You can feel it flex with every thrust. 
“K-Kate...Katie cumming...I'm gonna..ah.” Kate looks up at you, face all flushed. “Me too princess go on. Cum all over my drum sticks.” Her voice is so deep and husky as you feel the coil tighten inside of you. You feel her tremble, and her muscles flex as she groans out.
Your nails dig into her biceps as your back arches off the bed. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tips of the drumsticks hit that spot deep inside you. You fall over the edge, coating her sticks and fingers in your juices. You hear her moan loudly as you're pretty sure she just came from getting you off. 
Kate slows down before coming to a stop. Pulling them out and admiring them covered in your slick. As you come back down from the high you catch her staring at them making you blush. She smirks as she notices you staring at her. You're both still slightly panting. “Fuck princess you're so perfect under me.” The blush deepens as you whimper. “W-well, you're perfect above me.” She smirks and leans down to give you another kiss when there's a knock at the door, making you jump. “Busy!” Kate yells to whoever knocked on the door. “Kate, we have to meet VIPs in 5.” You heard Yelena call through the door.”No problem, Lena, we'll be there.” Kate yells back. “W-we.” You stutter out. She smiles down at you and holds out her hand. “I'm not letting you go that easy princess.” You don't know if you could get any redder, but you're pretty sure your face is as red as a tomato now. 
Kate pulls you up with her and helps you get dressed before dressing herself. Both of you making sure that your looks don't scream we just fucked in the dressing room. You two manage to join the VIPs, getting treated just like one with all the special little bits that came along with it. You guys got a special spot on the side of the stage and you weren't even upset about your friends not being with you. How could you be when you got to be with Kate Fucking Bishop and get the VIP upgrade for free?
As the opening band plays, Kate comes up behind you and pulls you back to where the other VIPs don't notice her standing there with you. Luckily, it's dark enough. She wraps her arms around your waist behind swaying with you to the music and enjoying the opening band with you.  
Kate kisses your neck, which has you gasping. “Enjoying the show, princess?” She whispers in your ear, and you nod in response, which makes her smile. “I'm gonna enjoy it more once you get on stage.” You look back and up at her, kissing her jawline. “You better not take your eyes off me.” Kate says in your ear. “I wouldn't dream of it Katie.” You smile and kiss her as the opening band gets ready to play their last song. She pulls away leaving you chasing her, but she has to go and so you watch her disappear once more.
The opening band finishes up their set and heads off, high fiving all of the VIPs as they pass by. It takes a few minutes as the sets are all changed. The anticipation rising within you. The crowd starts to go crazy as they get the first glance of the band waiting to come out. Natahsa is the first one out with a loud roar from the crowd. Wanda follows, and the Yelena. Last is Kate. She struts onto the stage, catching your eye as she winks at you before she turns around and does a backflip on stage. The crowd went absolutely nuts at this. You can tell she is just showing off to impress you.  
You smile, a little chuckle coming out of you as you shake your head at her. Kate sits herself down at her drums. Pulling out the sticks she just used on you making your face flush. You notice how the sticks glisten in the light more than normal. You can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. Kate smirks at you as she notices your reaction. The realization that dawns on you in that moment. She licks over the stick, staring you down. Watching your reaction intently. You feel yourself clench around nothing but you remember the sensation of the drumsticks inside of you. A pool of wetness is between your thighs once more. She gives you a wink as she starts off the set. She is absolutely going to be the death of you, but you couldn't ask for anything more.
The sets goes on, and you can't believe the night you're having. The spot is amazing and the fact you actually got fucked by your celebrity crush has your head spinning and your pinching yourself. The show is everything you could have asked for. The night was everything and more. Even if it turns out to be a one-time thing you'd get to tell your friends you fucked Kate Bishop. 
The show came to an end with an amazing encore. As the band exits the stage on the other side, Kate does the opposite. She comes right up to you, grabbing you by the hips and kissing you. She doesn't care who sees, but you can hear the gasp around you and some cheering from afar. “I'm sorry I just couldn't help myself.” Kate pulls back a little and leans her forehead against yours. 
Though you were taken by surprise at the drummer's forwardness, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and smiled. “You did amazing Katie.” You tell her before kissing again. You can see the flashes of people's phones going off at the two of you as you bury your face against her. Not used to this at all. She chuckles, wrapping her arms around you fully and lifting you up in her arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around her waist. “Let me take you on a real date princess.” She says as she walks you back towards the dressing room. You nod into her neck, and she kisses the side of your head. “And maybe it will just have to be a breakfast date.” Her voice gets low and sultry, which has you shuddering. 
You're excited about where this could lead. In a sea full of beautiful women, Kate chose you, and maybe she will always pick you.
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llxferim · 2 months ago
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-"Choose" part 1
a/n: i had so much fun writing this oml, my wandanat obsession is getting out of hand. I'll post another fic today AND tomorrow :))
Part 2
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: When both Wanda and Natasha confess their feelings for you, you're torn between them. To make a choice, you decide to take each of them on a date. But it just leaves you even more uncertain than before. (Maybe part 1?)
Warnings: smut, 18+, no yn used, Wanda and nat are a tease, eventual smut, smut with plot. teasing, receiving oral (reader). fem!reader, flirting.
Word count: 5.6k (it's a big one so buckle up)
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"Both of them?" Kate asks, her eyes widening in surprise as she steadies her aim with the bow. The target looms in the distance, a stark contrast against the backdrop of the training room. "Seriously? You've got two Avengers interested in you?"
She hands the bow back to you, the weight of it bringing you crashing back to reality. Your mind is still reeling, trying to process everything that happened. It's been a week of absolute chaos-Wanda's unexpected confession adds another layer to the situation that began when Natasha, asked you out right before a mission. A few days went by and both of them were acting as if nothing happened, waiting for your response.
You can still picture Nat’s casual shrug before she leaped out the window as if confessing to someone and then diving into danger was just another Tuesday for her.
"I have no idea what to do," you admit.
You draw back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in your muscles. The arrow flies, hitting the target with a satisfying thud that echoes through the room. The sound mirrors the way your heart has been pounding ever since this whole situation began.
"Here you are," Kate says, her tone a blend of amusement and disbelief, "taking down supervillains, and saving the world- regularly might I add—, but two incredibly attractive, badass women liking you, is what you're worried about?" There's a teasing to her voice.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache forming as you sink back into your chair. The weight of the situation settles on your shoulders. "I know!" you exclaim, the words coming out in a rush. "It's ridiculous. I mean, I'm just... me. I never expected any of this. Not Natasha, not Wanda, not any of it."
"Listen," Kate says before She nocks another arrow, her movements fluid. The arrow whistles through the air, striking the target dead center before she retracts the bow with a satisfied smirk. "What if you just... see how both of them are on a date? You know, get to know them outside of all the world-saving and villain-fighting?"
"Like, go out with both of them?" you ask, your brow furrowing as you give her a skeptical look. "I don't want to two-time them, Kate. They deserve better than that." "No, no, " Kate shakes her head. "I'm not saying that. Just go on a single date with them, then decide." She shrugs, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.
You stare at her for a long moment, letting the idea sink in. It's outrageous, just simply crazy, and yet... "That's... a terrible idea," you finally admit, heaving a deep sigh as you push yourself up from your chair. Your muscles protest, reminding you of the intense training session you've just been through.
"Rude!" Kate exclaims. "Hey, where are you going?" she calls out as you start to walk away, her voice a mix of curiosity and surprise.
"To go try your stupid idea," you mutter, making sure your voice is just loud enough for her to hear. Which earns you laughter from her. You can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.
**
A few days later, still somewhat in disbelief, you found yourself seated across from Wanda at a cozy café.
Just days ago, she had been hurling bad guys around with mere flicks of her fingers. Now, here she sat, looking utterly charming as she sipped coffee from a strawberry-shaped mug.
Cute.
You catch yourself stealing glances at her over the top of your menu. Wanda's striking scarlet hair falls loosely around her face, soft strands brushing against her cheeks, hiding those captivating green eyes, the ones that you wish were on you right now. You find yourself wanting to reach out, to gently tuck her strands back to reveal her face completely.
Just as the thought crosses your mind, Wanda's gaze flicks upward, locking onto yours. "Enjoying the view, darling?" she teases, her voice low and playful, with just a hint of her Sokovian accent.
Your heart rate instantly kicks up a notch, and you can feel warmth blooming across your cheeks. "what? Can I not admire my date?" you reply, aiming for a light tone but hearing the slight tremor in your voice.
"didn't say that" she responds, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she leans in slightly. The movement is subtle, but it closes the distance between you just enough to make your pulse quicken. "Admire as much as you want, darling. I assure you, I'm not going anywhere." The air between you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes you acutely aware of every small movement, every shared glance. You can't help but wonder how the evening might progress, how close you might find yourselves as the night wears on.
In an attempt to steady yourself, you take a long sip of your drink. The warmth of the coffee does little to calm the flutter in your stomach or slow your racing thoughts. "So," you begin, searching for a topic to keep the conversation flowing "what's been your favorite mission lately? Fury’s been giving us so many"
Wanda's lips curl into a smirk, her eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and something deeper, more intense. "Honestly?" she replies, her tone carrying a playful challenge. "I'd have to say it was the one where I got to swoop in and save your ass." You can't help but chuckle, "Oh, come on. I didn't need saving," you protest lightly. "I was handling it perfectly fine."
"Sure you were," Wanda laughs. Her entire face lights up with the smile, and you find it impossible to look away. "But I'm glad I could step in. It gave me an excuse to play the hero for you."
Almost unconsciously, you lean closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull between you. "What if." you begin, your voice dropping to a near-whisper, "I told you I rather like the idea of you swooping in to save me more often?"
Wanda's expression shifts subtly, her gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before meeting your eyes again. The look she gives you is charged with meaning. "I could arrange that," she murmurs, her voice taking on a softer, more intimate tone.
The world around you seems to fade into the background, the moment stretching out between you. The usual bustle of the cafe continues, but it feels distant and muted. All you can focus on is Wanda's way the soft lighting plays across her features, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth radiating from her presence. Every tiny detail draws you in deeper.
"so" you suggest, "should we plan our next mission together?" unable to hide the grin forming on your lips.
Wanda raises an eyebrow, the playful glimmer returning. "I like the sound of that." she says with a little smirk "Just us, no distractions" Your heart rate raises at her words "Just don't be surprised if I need saving again" you tease back.
Wanda leans in closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she replies, "I wouldn't dream of it, darling."
**
You and Wanda walked back to Stark Tower as the night fell. Despite Fury's announcement about tomorrow, and how he would personally murder whoever was late to the meeting— Wanda was in no rush. She'd insisted on ice cream, so you both enjoyed the treat while strolling towards the building.
after arriving at the tower, you and Wanda finally reach the floor your room was on, “you sure you can find your way?” Wanda said playful smile on her lips.
“with a guide like you? I’d get lost on purpose” you respond with a smirk, matching her playful tone. Her eyes sparkle a little at that, looking you up and down.
Wanda laughed softly, pulling you back into the elevator and pressing the button for her floor.
“flattery won’t get you everywhere, you know” she chuckles slightly as she steps out of the elevator and leads the way while clutching your hand in hers.
“I mean—” you tease as if you weren’t the one getting flutters in your stomach after touching her hand “—it helps” You give her a slight smirk.
She stops in front of a door, her door. And leans against the wall next to it.
“so what’s your plan? Charm your way through the tower?” she raised an eyebrow, her lingering tone flowing through the empty hallway.
“only to the rooms that matter,” you say, taking a deep breath, “oh yeah?” she said in amusement “What rooms would that be?” she teased. She knew what you meant, but she loved seeing you get all flustered because of her.
“yours is definitely on the list,” you say, closing whatever distance was left between you and her. “oh so there’s a list?” she chuckled in amusement. You couldn’t help but linger your eyes on her lips, you wanted to kiss her so badly.
You look back up, locking eyes with her, and you unconsciously lean forward, as if your body had a mind of its own. Wanda does the same, and your lips finally touch. Your hand slides up in her hair, her hands cup your face and you let out a relief sigh, you were starving for her.
You lean into the kiss, wanting more and more. But Wanda pulled away, You looked at her with a puzzled expression but before you could protest she covered your mouth with her hand and used the other to open the door.
You stumble into the room as Wanda locks the door “You’re such a mess for me” she teases as her lips finally reunite with yours, the lips  which you still couldn’t get enough of. “you know,” she breathes, pulling away from the kiss and locking her eyes with you, “I could read your mind the whole date, right?”
You look at her yet again with a frustrated expression, “What—“ you protest playfully “So you were just playing with me the whole time?” you let out a breath.
“more like teasing you” she chuckles lightly, the soft voice bringing your butterflies back. “you’re an asshole” you scoff, “you know you love me” she responds before leading you to the bedroom.
You sit down on the end of the bed, as Wanda crawls on top of you, not breaking the kiss. You feel hands tugging your shirt upwards, next thing you know it is on the floor along with your Bra.
You let out a frustrated sigh as Wanda pulls away once more. “You need to stop doing that,” She shoots you a teasing smirk and replies innocently, “but I like teasing you”
“shut up” you mumble out in a chuckle as she places kisses along your neck, getting lower. You feel hands sliding down your jeans, “you’re so wet for me, Darling—“ Wanda taunts, looking down at you in amusement, “and I haven’t even done anything yet”
Her hands rub over the soft fabric of your panties, gaining a moan from you which you immediately bite down. “don’t” she says, “I want to hear your voice” she whispers as she continues rubbing, while she sloppily kisses you, the muffled moans echoing in the room.
She takes off your pants, landing kisses down the way to your lower stomach, making you squirm. You try to close your thighs in an attempt to calm your throbbing but Wanda keeps them open.
“Keep your legs open for me, darling” she whispers, her kisses finally reaching your pussy. Causing you to squirm once again, feeling the vibration of her talking through your whole body.
“Wanda~” you moan in desperation. She wasted no time and took your panties off, leaving your pussy bare.
Just when you thought she was finished teasing you, her soft voice broke through the tension. “Say what you want me to do,” she murmured, a playful glint in her eyes.
“What—?” you stammered, caught off guard. The air was thick with anticipation. “tell me what you want me to do to you,” she pressed, her tone dripping with seduction. You could feel your heart racing, each word hanging in the air.
“fuck- just fuck me” Right after you finish the sentence, you feel two fingers shoved in your cunt. You let out a loud moan, caught completely off guard “fucking hell” You mutter out shaking, you could feel Wanda’s tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.
You almost screamed in pleasure when she inserted the third finger. Your insides clenching around her fingers when she starts hitting the spot. Her tongue not leaving your clit.
Your legs shuddered at the feeling of her tongue against your heat. It almost made you lose consciousness right there due to your neediness.
You were overstimulated, and could barely make up any thoughts in your head. All you could do was moan at the pleasure that was getting too much to bear.
You were so close to cumming, “I’m gonna~” You close your eyes as you groan before Wanda pulled away, leaving you empty, depraved, and wanting more. “Wanda-?” you open your eyes just to see her wiping her lips with her tongue with a smirk, looking at you in amusement. “you’re so cute,” she says, “I was just about to finish” you reply in frustration, out of breath.
She chuckles as her lips reach yours, “but then I wouldn’t get to see your cute, frustrated face” she whispers as she kisses you before you can say anything else. You feel her knee press up against your pussy, making you whimper. Your hands go through her hair pulling her down, depraved for more. Her hand finally falls back down to your pulsating clit, making you flinch at the touch.
It just took a couple of minutes before you were going to cum again, you covered your face out of overstimulation, but that didn’t last long. “that won’t do..” you heard before feeling your hands being tugged, revealing your blushed face. “I want to see your face, darling, don’t hide from me” you hear Wanda’s voice, making you even more close to finishing. “I’m gonna~” you manage to stutter out, “I know, I know” Wanda shushes you, her fingers still rubbing your clit, faster and rougher, while her other fingers enter your cunt.
You let out a whimper before finally cumming, soaking her fingers completely. She slowly pulls them out, bringing them up to her mouth before licking the juice clean.
**
After you two settled into bed, cuddling closely, you felt her hands wrap around your waist. Honestly, you’d never seen her this clingy before, and it made you want to stay in bed with her forever. But Fury, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to schedule a meeting at 8 AM, so you reluctantly got up to prepare to go to sleep.
You leaned down to give her a soft kiss before sitting up. “I’m going to take a shower,” you said, but as you started to move, you felt her tugging you back.
“Why?” she asked, her tone playful.
“To clean up…?” you replied, confused.
“But then you’ll just get dirty again,” she countered, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” you questioned, but before you could process her words, she was on top of you again. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” she teased, her Sokovian accent shining through.
“We can’t—” you stammered, your face burning. “We have a meeting tomorrow—”
“It’s 3 AM,” she said, glancing at the clock before locking her gaze back on yours, eyes sparkling with mischief. “We have time for a few more rounds,” she declared, a smirk dancing on her lips.
You could already feel how soaked your pussy was.
For her.
“A few more..?”
**
Needless to say, you were both late to the meeting, and Fury was not happy. He lectured you both for an hour, at one point you just zoned out, completely ignoring him.
As a ‘punishment,’ he put you on paperwork duty, with Nat. You noticed her reaction when you and Wanda walked in late, her eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, not paying any mind to the meeting. Which is why Fury assigned her with you.
Now, as you sat buried under an avalanche of paperwork, Nat was doing very little to help. Instead, she simply sat across from you, her intense green eyes fixed on your every move as you sorted through the endless files.
Frustration boiled over, and you slammed the file you were holding on the desk. “Nat, you’re seriously freaking me out. Stop staring and come help!” you exclaimed, spinning your chair to face her.
“Why did you two come in late, together?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing as she waited for an answer.
You knew you couldn’t lie to her, so you didn’t even try. “We.. went out yesterday…” you muttered, the words heavy in the air. Nat raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”
“I may have stayed over at her place,” you confessed, taking a deep breath as you felt the tension between you two thicken. “Now—can you come help me?”
Nat’s gaze didn’t waver, a mix of frustration and something else swirling in her expression. “You think that’s enough to make me help?” she challenged, a smirk teasing at the corners of her lips.
“Are you really going to make this harder?” you replied, heart racing under her scrutiny.
“Maybe I want to see just how far you’re willing to go,” she said, leaning back in her chair, a provocative glint in her eyes.
“Are you seriously going to make me beg?” you frown, and that earns you a faint smile from her.
“Maybe I will,” Nat replies, crossing her arms, a teasing glint in her eye.
“Please,” you say, putting on your best pleading expression. Her eyes light up with mischief.
“Hmmm… again,” she replies with a smirk, clearly enjoying this.
“Seriously?” you ask, exasperation creeping into your voice, but she just stays put, unwavering. With a resigned sigh, you try again. “Please, Tash.”
“Fine,” she finally relents, sitting up with a satisfied smirk. She walks towards you, the tension in the air thickening as she closes the distance between you.
“Now, let’s see what you’ve got,” she says, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the paperwork. You can feel her warmth radiating off her, sending a shiver down your spine. “You really thought you could handle this without me?”
“Well, I could have. Faster than you I’m sure, but you were distracting me” you respond with a playful scoff before sinking back into your chair.
You let out a small gasp when you feel Nat turning your chair around to face her. She is leaning over you, her hands on the armrest. With her hair cascading down her shoulders, she leaned closer. “was that a challenge?” she raised an eyebrow, her breath close to your ear.
“what are you suggesting” you ask, daring to meet her gaze. “let’s say i have an idea to make things.. more interesting” her voice full of mischief. “whoever has the least amount of paperwork left, until— let’s say” she glances at her watch, “5pm, wins.” she adds, “if you win, i’ll finish the rest of our paperwork” she says with a smirk.
“What if you win?” you ask, a hint of curiosity in your voice.
Natasha leans back slightly, a playful glint still in her eyes. “If I win, you go on a date with me, and— ofcourse finish the rest of the paperwork.”
Her boldness catches you off guard, but, honestly, what else were you expecting from her? you were planning to go on a date with her anyways.
“Fine, that seems fair,” you reply, though you quickly add, “but no distracting each other and no cheating!”
She shoots you a mischievous grin “no promises” she says, before heading back to her desk, flipping open the first file.
You spin your chair around, heart racing, and do the same, the challenge igniting a competitive spark between you.
**
the clock was ticking, it was 4:55, Nat had a little under 10 files left, and you were already on your last one. you glance over at her, but she seemed calm, which made you even more nervous than you already were.
you closed the last file with a satisfied grin, “i win, there’s only two minutes left. give up already tash” you say with a grin, but before you can even lean back in your chair the door opens and Fury’s assistant comes in with a handful of more paperwork, placing it on your desk, “Mr.Fury told me that he needs these done by tomorrow morning.” she says, looking at you.
**
You were completely dumbfounded. “What—no,” you stammer, but the assistant had already slipped out the door. Natasha stood up from her chair, that infuriating smirk dancing on her lips as she leaned casually against your desk. “What were you saying, love?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. your ears flushed, hearing her call you ‘love’ was doing something to you.
You glanced at the clock. 5 PM.
“fuck me..” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation.
“That’s the plan,” you hear her say, a satisfied chuckle escaping her.
“You did this, didn’t you?” you ask, narrowing your gaze as you look up at her.
“Me? I would never!” she retorts, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she pretends to be offended.
“Not fair, Tash. So not fair,” you frown, already accepting your defeat.
**
Before you could get any more work in, Natasha had already dragged you away after convincing you, that you would finish them later tonight, but something told you you wouldn’t be getting any work done.
You were sitting in her car, you weren’t sure where Nat would take you out on a first date. In a restaurant? that’s just not her, at least not on the first date. The Movies? that would be too boring.
“We’re here, love” her voice pulls you right out of your thoughts, the word love leaving you red. “why do you keep calling me love?” you ask, opening the car door. “I like how you get flushed everytime” she smirks in amusement.
You roll your eyes, “where are we?” you finally ask, looking around. “heard you liked shooting” she says with a smile as she leads you in a door, her hand on your waist.
You step into a vibrant field, where a selection of paintball markers is laid out on a workbench, accompanied by a pile of paintballs nearby.
Turning back to Natasha, practically bouncing with excitement, you exclaim, “No way!” A playful grin spreads across your face as you tease, “Ooh, you’re so done!” With that, you quickly grab one of the markers and load it with a handful of paintballs.
Natasha chuckles, her smile brightening as she watches you. “You sure about that, love?” she asks, picking up her own marker and some paintballs.
“Oh, I’m absolutely sure! You’ll pay for cheating your way through this date, Tash.” An assistant offers you body armor, but you wave it off. “Ooh, playing tough?” Natasha taunts, mirroring your refusal.
The guy behind the counter clears his throat. “Alright, it’s just the two of you ladies. The rules are simple: no head shots, one shot is enough to win, but feel free to keep playing as long as you like. Stay in bounds, and most importantly, have fun!” His explanation fades into the background as you find yourself captivated by Natasha—her hair tied back, that mischievous grin on her face, the very one you swore you disliked.
“—when I start counting, run and hide. On the count of three, the game begins,” he continues, snapping you back to reality.
“One!” You and Natasha dart in opposite directions.
“Two!” You quickly hide behind a wooden wall.
“And three!” The game starts.
In an instant, you’re on the move, quietly circling around to the side where Natasha ran. This is exactly what you thought a date with Nat was going to be.
**
After playing for a while, Natasha won, but you managed to land few shots as well. By the time you were done, the darkness had settled around you, and you were both covered in paint, laughter echoing in the night as you walked back to her car.
“I was so close to winning, though!” you exclaim, frustration bubbling to the surface.
“Sure you were,” Nat chuckles, opening the car door for you before sliding in beside you.
“No, but really! You just snuck up on me out of nowhere. Before that, I had the upper hand,” you insist, crossing your arms and turning to face her, a playful challenge in your eyes.
“Hmm,” she hums, locking her gaze onto yours, her expression turning serious as the air thickens with unspoken tension.
Then, she leans in, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from her, your heart racing in anticipation. Just as you think she’s about to kiss you, she pulls away with a teasing smirk, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
“Not fair, Tash,” you say, trying to mask your disappointment, but the spark between you only intensifies.
Halfway through the car ride, it hits you. “Shit…” you sigh, sinking back into your seat. “I’ve got paperwork to finish.” The thought of working feels exhausting, especially after the fun you just had.
“I’ll help you out, love,” Nat offers, her voice soft and inviting. “It’s my fault you ended up with that much anyway.” She giggles, and the sound brings an involuntary smile to your lips.
God, you wanted to kiss her so badly. You quickly glance in her direction, meeting her gaze that sends your heart racing. First Wanda, now Natasha? Taking both of them out was supposed to help you figure things out, but instead, it only made everything more complicated.
“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the tension in the air hangs thick between you.
“Oh, but I want to,” she replies, her gaze steady and intent. The way she looks at you makes it hard to focus on anything else. It’s a challenge, an invitation.
You want to push her away and avoid the feelings, but instead, you find yourself leaning in slightly, drawn to her warmth. “You make it hard to concentrate,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Good,” she replies, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I like it that way.”
The tension simmers between you, leaving you both caught in a moment that feels electric, as if one wrong move could change everything.
**
You went back up to an empty office, everyone had clocked out, but you and Nat had to sit here and work.
You sigh as you plop down on your seat, “you know, we could have much more fun than just work, you know” she says, slowly walking towards you, turning around your chair, “you really like doing that, don’t you?” you chuckle, keeping your eyes locked on to hers.
“what kind of fun are we talking about, exactly?” you ask. of course you knew what she meant, but you wanted her to say it. you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter, desperate for attention, throbbing for her.
“you know what i mean” she says, not breaking eye contact. “say it”
“oh, you don’t want to play that game, Love. trust me” she says in amusement. her calling you love was all you needed before you couldn’t hold it in anymore, you squeezed your legs shut, hoping to satisfy the urge down there.
Natasha notices that and forces your legs open with her knee. you look down at her knee before you feel a hand on your chin, making you look back up, “eyes on me, Love” she demands.
You feel your throbbing pussy, all you wanted to do was reach your hand down and— before you could, Nat grabbed both of your hands, gently, before grabbing a rope from a drawer and tying them behind your back.
Her knee going right back to keeping your legs open. “Nat. c’mon, please” you groan out, looking down at your now tied up hands—“nuh-uh, i said eyes on me.” You immediately look back at her.
that just made you even more wet, you could feel how soaked your panties were getting. you just wanted her—no, needed her to touch you. to completely destroy you.
“please~ just-“ you whimper out,
“look how much of a mess you are.” she looked at you in amusement, sliding her hand from your chest, down to your pants, “all for me.”
She kneels and pulls down your pants, revealing your completely soaked panties, before throwing them on the floor along with your pants.
“if you wanted me this badly, you should have told me, Love” she says, spreading your lips apart, causing a moan to escape your lips. “just stop- teasing, Tash” you breathe out.
“Where’s the fun in that, though?” she asks in the most innocent voice possible. as if she’s not in between your legs right now.
her tongue rubbing over your sore clit, then sliding down and into your cunt. you whimper as she increases the speed.
then she suddenly picks you up from the chair, and sits you down on the desk. her lips now on yours, sloppily kissing you before sliding back down, landing kisses along the way, before reaching your cunt once again.
but this time she doesn’t wait. she starts eating you out right away. her index and middle finger rubbing over your clit. “fuck.. oh fuck” you moan, not able to hold back anymore.
“Nat- slow~ah slow down” you finally stammer out. “at-at least untie my hands” you say, out of breath. it’s as if she’s lost, she doesn’t respond to anything. It doesn’t take long before you get the sensation, “i’m~ i’m gonna cum” you whimper out, as Natasha speeds up, the room filled up with your moans, you were hoping nobody else was staying overtime right now.
You groan out of pleasure, as you finally cum.
Nat gets up with a satisfied look. “Now, untie me, please” you point at your hands with your head, “i gotta finish this work”
“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, love,” she says, gently caressing your face.
“What? Natasha—no,” you stammer, still feeling a bit overstimulated and confused by the moment.
“but sure, i’ll untie you” she says completely ignoring you, as she grabs scissors and cuts the rope open. “Nat, i have way too much work due tomorrow morning, we really can’t” you start explaining, and attempt to jump down from the table, but she catches you and sits you back down.
“we have time for one more round” Her lips find their way to yours, that was all you needed, all your pussy needed to become even more desperate for Natasha.
“fine, make it quick” you moan out through the kiss, “oh, i don’t do quick, Love” she smirks, before pulling away. she opens the bottom drawer of your table, and pulls out something very familiar to you, a Purple vibrator. “what- how’d you even know that was there-?” you ask covering your face with your hands out of embarrassment.
“you really think i wouldn’t notice?” she chuckled. “my desk is right in-front of yours”
“let’s see how well this actually works” she smirked and looked at you before turning the Vibrator on, immediately putting it on your Clit, causing you to flinch. “fucking hell..” you groan out.
she grabs you by the chin and pulls you into a kiss, while she slowly turns up the amplitude, testing how long you’d last without breaking the kiss.
Soon after you pull away, taking a deep breath. “seems to be working well” she states, “what do you think, love?” she asks before turning up the amplitude even more, she knew what she was doing, she enjoyed seeing you be a mess, just for her.
you whimper out in pleasure, unable to answer her. “i asked you a question, it’s not polite to ignore me, love” she said before turning the vibrator off. you look up in frustration, “god you really enjoy doing that, don’t you?”
“i asked a question” she responded with a smirk. “it works wonders, now please turn it back on” you say it in a hurry,
"Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and inviting as she leaned closer, her breath warm against your skin.
As she closed the distance, her lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, like a feather grazing your skin. The gentle touch sent a shiver down your spine, then she turned more rough and out of nowhere, without a warning she turns the vibrator to the highest amplitude. making you scream both out of pleasure and surprise.
it didn’t take long for you to cum after that, she knew exactly which parts she needed to touch to make you feel good.
it was 2am after you finished. she cleaned you up, softly rubbing wipes over the places she left hickeys. giving you soft kisses along the way, as if she didn’t just make you levitate up to heaven out of pleasure.
you sat down to finish the work, but you fell asleep, not even the two cups of coffee you chugged were any help at all.
Nat carried you to your room and finished the rest of the paperwork herself.
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auroralwriting · 5 months ago
Text
helping hands
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
after a rough case, spencer offers to help your muscles relax
word count: 1.0k
warnings: no y/n, pre-established relationship, pure fluff, absolute comfort fic, one small sexual innuendo, it's a short one, but sweet!
from, anon: hello! i'm a little nervous to request something this is actually my first time doing it! but i have an oddly specific request that i felt you would be able to bring to life beautifully. i was wondering if u would maybe be write something for Spencer giving the reader a massage on their back to try and help? just lots of fluffy love and extra extra bonus points if you add lots of kisses
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Physically demanding cases were the worst. Sure, dealing with psychopaths was tough, but chasing them down or fighting them was probably worse.
This specific case, the unsub was actually an award-winning tri-athlete. He put up a good chase, and then an even better fight. Usually, Derek took the brunt of these, but with him checking out the secondary location, it was you and Kate, who was pregnant.
Of course you weren't going to let a pregnant woman do all that work, so you kept her back and took as much of the brunt as she'd let you take. Thankfully, you both got out nearly unharmed, just with a few minor cuts, scratches, and bruises.
The one issue that you didn't account for was hurting your back, again. The last time you'd gotten hurt was during a case in Atlanta where you fell down a flight of stairs after being pushed by the unsub. You'd sustained some pretty nasty back injuries. Even after they had healed, some of your muscles overcompensated for the others, causing you to have back pain flare ups.
Normally, you could keep them at bay with simple stretches and some medication. This time, you realized that you'd done a number on your back during the fight.
Spencer took quick note of your posture during the flight home. You struggled to find a comfortable position, constantly trying to stretch your back or shoulder blades, seeking any form of relief from the pain. He knew how much you hated being put under a microscope, especially in front of the team, so he kept quiet until you arrived back to your shared apartment.
Walking in, you sighed as you kicked off your shoes, not caring how or where they landed on the floor as you bolted to the couch, flopping down on it. You were honestly too tired and in pain to care. Spencer chuckled in the background, and you could hear him set your shoes down on the shoe rack you had.
Your eyes, which had been previously shut, opened to see Spencer kneeling in front of you. "Hi, pretty girl." Spencer smiled at you, brushing some of your hair out of your face with a loving look gracing his features.
"Hi," you softly replied.
"You feeling alright?" Spencer now caressed your cheek with his thumb softly. "I noticed you stretching a lot on the jet."
With a small shake of your head, your lips fell into a soft pout. "I hurt my back, I think."
Spencer gently grabbed your arms and help you sit up. He carefully slid your coat down your arms with furrowed brows. "Did you get hit?"
"No," you answered, "I think I twisted my back wrong when I tried to jump in front of Kate. I think I felt it hurt then, but I had a lot of adrenaline."
"You were in flight-or-fight mode," Spencer nodded. "Now that you're safe and sound, you're gonna feel it more." His large hands slowly rubbed at your tense shoulders. He felt your body relax beneath his touch. "You want me to massage you a little, love?"
A sigh of contentment escaped your lips as his hands worked magic on your shoulders, "Please, Spence."
Spencer moved your body so you were laid down. He set a pillow beneath your head as you got yourself situated and comfortable.
Spencer had prepared for this moment for what felt like his whole life. You weren't dating when your first injury occurred, but after going out for a few dates, Spencer bought seven books, all on muscles in the back, massage techniques, and different pain relieving strategies all for this exact moment. You were careful with your injury, and Spencer trusted you, but he also understood that accidents and situations like these happen, especially in your shared line of work.
The sounds of your soft hums and sighs were a sign that Spencer was doing all the right things. You knew Spencer had magic fingers, but this was the best work they'd ever done. He worked out the kinks and aches in your back.
"Did you know that roses have been cultivated since ancient times, with evidence of their cultivation dating back to the Babylonians and the Egyptians around five-thousand years ago?" Spencer rambled, his voice quiet as he worked.
You loved Spencer's rambles, "Mm-mm." you hummed, "Why?"
"They were used for their fragrance and beauty. It lead to their association with the Egyption goddess, Hathor, and then to the Greek goddess Aphrodite, and so on." Spencer explained further.
Without warning, you turned over to look up a him. Spencer smiled down at you as you softly grabbed his neck, pulling him closer to press a kiss onto his lips.
"I love your brain," You commented with a smile, watching his face light up at the compliment.
"I'm not done yet, silly girl. Roll back over for me." Spencer chuckled.
Giggling, you rolled back onto your stomach as Spencer began to work into your back. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck as he began to trail kisses downwards, down your spine. You shivered at the touch, smiling to yourself when he moved back up to press a gentle kiss onto your head.
"I don't think masseuses normally get this touchy," you joked.
Spencer shook his head, "They don't, but my client's just too pretty."
"Are you done yet?" You turned your head to look at him.
"Do you feel any better?" Spencer asked.
You sat up, moving your arms and gently twisting your back. "Mhm, thank you, baby."
"Then yes," Spencer smiled, "I'm all done. What's the rush?"
"I wanted to watch Doctor Who before we get too sleepy." You replied, then giving a soft roll to your eyes, "Or before we get called in again."
Spencer sighed, "Don't even say it. I don't think I can handle another case for at least two weeks." He took your hand as you leaned into him. He grabbed the remote and clicked the tv on. "But I'm never one to say no to Doctor Who and my girl."
"Thank you for helping," You lovingly said, snuggling into your boyfriend's chest.
"Anytime, lovely."
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