#if this man could chew he'd be eating metal every time someone so much as suggest that luke was anything but perfect
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"Between Anakin and Luke who is the better Jedi?"
"Who's the strongest?"
Blah blah blah.
Every single person who thinks it is Anakin is wrong because Anakin "coolest thing about me is my kids" Skywalker would beat you up for thinking that his son isn't the greatest thing of all time.
#you know im right#if this man could chew he'd be eating metal every time someone so much as suggest that luke was anything but perfect#vader canonically loses his temper everytime someone from the empire suggests that luke isnt the biggest threat they're facing#he's like “what? do you mean? we should focus on someone else? luke skywalker exists and i have to follow him actually”#luke gets kidnapped and Vader kills the people who did it because only HE is allowed to hubt and traumatise his child like that thank you#“oh but anakin is the chosen one” you say#neither anakin or i care we're to busy admiring luke as he fucks up again#kylo meets anakin in the afterlife prepared to complain about luke and his 'failures'#surpised to find that grandpa 'number 1 luke stan' vader couldn't give a shit#'oh he tried to kill you? clearly he didn't do a good enough job. hey you think luke is open to advice? give him advice in killing people'#luke skywalker#anakin skywalker#darth vader#dad vader
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Well. He'd killed him. He supposed that hadn't been much of a shock; the damn helicopter - Sheba - had went down in flames from enemy fire, Briscoe himself barely getting out unscathed along with the rest of their motley crew. Someone had to die on this mission. The rubble had been on fire, was still on fire even as he stood in front of the Fiddler's now lifeless body, trailing the blackened claws of the gauntlet over a cut throat in a manner that could have only been described as 'gentle'. Stark contrast to the arterial spray coating Crane's arm and front. (Which, honestly, made him want to vomit the more he thought about it. His own injuries aside.)
There was nothing which could have been done for Bowin. Most people don't come back from being impaled through the flank with sheet metal, having their guts spill onto the jungle floor little by little every time they tried to free themselves. Sure, the Fiddler had an odd knack for self-revival, but Weasel would have only tried to eat the man's intestines as they knitted back together. It was a liability. Lawton, unconscious due to the explosion as he currently was, would have chewed any of them out for wasting precious time.
Still, the Brit had been nothing but kind, if naïve. He couldn't just leave the body. Steeling himself, Crane pulled at the limp form in an attempt to wrench it loose of the metal.
Really, what use had Bowin been here? His signature fiddle was nowhere to be found; at least, so said a precautionary look around the crash site. If Waller had wanted mind control she'd have been better off bringing Grieves. And she despised it when her people were killed for no reason. Surely it had to be the functional immortality, then? He'd have more time to ponder later; needed to get the rest of the squad together, get moving before Weasel decided someone's heartbeat was just a tad too slowed down for his liking. The creature was already approaching; the vibration of those footsteps was remarkable, and without looking Crane bared his teeth and let loose a warning growl. Bowin would have to be left until he healed, but Waller would come back for him.
With a shrieking groan, the remnants of Sheba collapsed, and with it the skewered Fiddler. The body fell to the floor with a soft thump, nestling in among the tree roots. Peaceful, almost. Or, at least as peaceful as one could get when in the middle of an active warzone.
Crane sat back, watching the remnants of crimson blood mix with the emerald green of plant life. Disgusting.
#Good. It was getting a little chummy around here - COWORKERS#Walk through Hell - TASK FORCE X#[officially canonizing]#[metahuman Isacc Bowin is canon to me]
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NSFW Alphabet [Obito Uchiha]
Masterlist
K - Kink
He likes to be restrained, not often but every now and then is good.
Obito wants you to tease him until he is practically breaking through the cuffs that attach his wrists to the headboard. Not being able to touch you is almost torture, but for some reason, he likes to put himself through it.
If you blindfold him as well, then he is gonna be chewing through his own hands to get to you all the sooner.
You straddle him, his straining cock rubbing against your pelvis as you lower yourself until your nipple drags across his lips. Watching as he greedily scrambles to suck the taut peak into his mouth. He'll growl if you try to pull back, having to force his jaw apart even though you promise to give him the other one, which you do.
You take the blindfold off so he can watch as you slowly, ever so slowly, sink down onto his angry-looking dick. Pupils blown wide at the sight of where your bodies join, hips jerking upwards and wrists straining against the metal.
Obito begs to be released as you ride him, but you don't comply until your first orgasm is crashing over you. Draped over his heaving chest, his cock still buried deep and pulsing as you search for the small key under the pillow to finally release the beast.
"Should have let me go sooner, angel. You'll pay for that mistake."
Oh, you pay, but it is a price you are happy to fork out.
P - Pace
Obito often prefers slow and sensual, which might be surprising given his Uchiha bloodline. They are kinda well known for being extremely hot-blooded and low-key feral at times.
It's not like your handsome man isn't like that from time to time, he can get lost in his primal instincts just like any other Uchiha, but Obito has been shaped by his experiences.
For him, it is more important that he feels connected to someone on a deeper level than simply indulging in the pleasures of the flesh. It took him a really long to come out of his shell with you, he feared you'd leave like everyone else had done over the years and he tried not to get too attached.
When he realised that you were going nowhere, that was when it all changed.
Obito wants your warmth wrapped around him for as long as he can manage, fuck the burn in his muscles for loving you so long, he is going until he can barely keep his weight off your body.
You better be ready for sessions that last hours, have water within easy reach and make sure you let that brave beautiful man know how much he is loved and adored - he deserves it.
S - Stamina
In a similar vein to pace, Obito has stamina by the bucket load.
His exhaustive and continued training keeps him in as top condition as he can manage. There is a little weakness in his right side, scar tissue can be a bitch, but he does what he can.
Obito could spend all day slowly building the tension, lingering looks and small touches that are akin to kindling a new fire.
Foreplay could last hours if he has his way, spending an age worshipping every inch of your body until you are crying for him, begging to be filled to soothe the ache in your belly.
"So impatient, my angel," he'd rumble with that sexy gravel-laced voice.
Hours, and I truly mean hours. That is how long is going to keep going, he'll bring you both to the point of sheer ecstasy only to stop and grin at you. The predator in him peeking through his carmine eyes.
All to start the process from the top, get comfy.
V - Volume
Obito is a quiet boy, his reactions are more seen through his actions than the occasional noise he makes. His eyes roll deep into his skull when you sink down on his length. He bites down on his lip when you press kitten licks to the tip of his red oozing cock. His fingers tighten on your skin, either your waist, hips or breasts as he bottoms out for the very first time.
He is expressive, extremely so but not loud.
What he does do, is praise you and often. He eats that shit up. Your face contorted with pure bliss as his voice, which rumbles like thunder, makes your walls flutter and contract.
"That's it, angel. Taking me so well, you feel me right here, huh?"
His hand presses against the bulge in your tummy making you lose control of your body entirely. You squirt all over his crotch, but he never stops.
"Think you should do that again, so fucking pretty for me. I'm a lucky man."
And he means it.
#delirious writes#ask game#obito uchiha#obito headcanons#obito#obito smut#uchiha smut#obito x reader
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Birthday to Remember
SUMMARY// After being pulled along to a strip club by your friends on your birthday, you end up leaving with some company.
WARNINGS// smut, oral (f receiving), kinda corruption kink, pussyjob, cursing, mentions of tobacco and alcohol use
AU// Stripper!Bucky x Innocent!Readee
AN// Requests and asks are always open, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI
Masterlist
Moodboard by// @commonintrest Dividers by// @skylightlantern
The last thing you wanted on your birthday was for your friends to drag you to a strip club. You felt awkward and out of place walking amongst the room full of half naked men and drinking customers.
"This just feels weird." You sighed, following your three friends towards the bar that was in the corner. "We'll get one of those private rooms they have here for parties and a beefy man. It will be a birthday to remember, c'mon." One of them grinned.
You pitched in on the drinks and a private room, one of the men walking in right after you. Dark, chin length hair and a sweet smile that nearly distracted from the tight leather shorts that left little to the imagination.
You spent most of the time staring down into your glass, having to silently remind yourself you were suppose be having fun as your friends cheered and giggled as they stuffed bills into the waistband of the man's shorts; whose named you learned was Bucky.
You weren't really paying attention to what he was doing. More to the way the silvery metal of his arm gleamed under the dimmed lights and where metal met flesh at the base of his shoulder.
Wondering how he got it or if he could feel when someone touched it, rather than thinking of the smooth way his body moved.
One of your friends said something to him that you couldn't quite make out. Bucky nodding and looking over at you with a half smile.
"Want the birthday special?" He asked, moving to stand in front of you. Your face warmed at his words and you swallowed thickly, shaking your head. "No, it's fine."
"Oh, come on. Don't be a prude." One of the three girls groaned, poking one of your crossed legs.
Wetting your lips, you glanced up at Bucky who looked at you with welcoming eyes. "Yeah, okay." You nodded.
Your stomach flipped when he took the drink from your hands, handing it to your friend before the cool metal of his left hand nudged at your knee for you to uncross your legs.
Bucky placed his hands on the back of the couch, your shoulders trapped between metal and flesh as he leaned down to talk in your ear. "If you're uncomfortable with anything, just pinch me."
You gave another nod and he smiled, flashing his pearly whites as he leaned his knees against the edge of the plush cushion on either side of yours.
Your heart beat wildly in your chest when he tugged at the laces of the shorts to loosen them before taking your hands in his.
Bucky was eating up every reaction you gave. The way you chewed your bottom lip as he guided your hands along the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, your fingers feeling every dip in the smooth skin and grazing over the barbells that pierced through his nipples.
He especially liked the way you weren't trying to rush his hands to go under his shorts; letting him be in full control.
Your eyes went wide when he stopped your hands at the waistband of the leather, the sound of your heart beating and blood rushing in your ears almost drowning out the sound of your friends giggling and squealing.
And the sound of the door opening.
"Buck, you've got a set." Another man said from the doorway. "I'm in the middle of a session." Bucky huffed, looking over his shoulder but not moving your hands. "Cap is gonna fill in."
Letting out a heavy sigh, Bucky finally let go of your hands, but his close proximity wasn't letting your body relax just yet as he leaned to peck a kiss to your cheek. "Happy birthday." He chuckled before standing.
A broad blonde took his place, this one letting you sit in peace and stare into you half empty glass.
"I'm gonna head home." You exhaled, glancing at the happy looks on your friend's faces. "Fine, buzz kill." One of them muttered.
Pushing through the crowded club, you pushed the heavy metal door open. Bucky was leaned against the concrete wall of the building not far from the door, now in a pair of sweats and a hoodie as he smoked a cigarette.
"The birthday girl." He grinned, blue eyes meeting yours as you stepped closer. "Want one?" He asked, holding the cigarette out towards you. "Uh, no. Thanks."
"Listen-" he cleared his throat, pushing away from the wall to stand in front of you. "I can find someone to cover for me if you need some company on your walk home." He offered before bringing the cigarette to his lips.
"I'll be fine, I'm not too far." You shrugged, looking to the sidewalk. "You can't walk alone, it's one in the morning." Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "That's different than walking with a stranger?"
His tongue jutted out across his bottom lip, eyebrows twitching upwards. "Well- I was about five seconds away from putting your hand in my shorts around thirty minutes ago. I think I'm a little better than a stranger." He teased, leaning forward slightly. "Besides, your friends kinda seem like assholes."
He wasn't wrong. They were sometimes pushy, telling you to loosen up a little and dragging you along with them to places where you felt out of place.
"Ok, fine." You exhaled. Bucky cracked a smile and dropped his cigarette, stomping it out under his shoe. "Let me get my stuff, just wait here for a second." He said, brushing his fingers to your forearm.
"Thanks, for walking with me." You said as you unlocked your front door. "This isn't the worst side of town but it's not the best either." Bucky said with a small laugh.
"I forgot to tip you, by the w-" his warm hand stopped yours from digging in your wallet, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Just- invite me in for a drink." He shrugged.
You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. "You're not a creep, are you?"
Bucky laughed, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "No, just don't want a pretty girl to spend her birthday alone. Plus, I had someone take over my shift."
"Well, my apartment is dry. So, you're out of luck on that drink." You smiled, opening the door to walk into the small studio apartment. "That's fair."
Bucky was good company as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, telling you funny stories about his time working at the club and listening intently to anything you said. The lighting in your apartment made his eyes even more blue than you'd noticed earlier and his features look sharper, framed by his dark locks.
Over the last couple of hours he had slowly moved his way closer to you. Close enough that you could smell his woodsy cologne mixed in with the scent of cigarettes, his metal arm resting on the back of the couch as his right hand would occasionally brush against you when he'd talk.
"You're cute, like a bunny." He said with a small laugh, making your face heat up. "Thanks, I guess?" You mumbled, chewing your tongue as he lifted his hand to your cheek.
He hummed in response, leaning closer until his lips brushed yours and your breathing hitched.
You pressed a hand against his chest and leaned away slightly. "I've never..." You trailed off, hoping he'd get the point. "I figured that much. Can go as far as you want, or we don't have to at all."
"How many girls have you said that to?" You silently cursed yourself for saying it as soon as you did, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He just chuckled and brushed his thumb over the tip of your nose. "I'm more of a long term guy. Pretty sure I can count who I've slept with on one hand."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." You said quietly, pulling at a string on the seam of your jeans. "I know." Bucky said before slotting his lips over yours, the kiss gentle and sweet.
The taste of cigarettes and mint gum flooded your tastebuds when his tongue slipped past your lips to press into yours, the softness of his plump lips contrasting the scratch of his stubble.
Bucky just felt so welcoming, his touches cautious to wait for you to stop him as his hand moved from your cheek. Fingers ghosting down the side of your neck to leave goosebumps in their wake, along the buttons of your blouse and finally stopping to wedge between your thighs.
He pulled away, leaving your breathless as you blinked your eyes open to meet his lust filled blue ones. "Remember to pinch me if anything makes you uncomfortable." He teased, pecking a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
Things were moving fast, clothes quickly discarded on the path from the couch to your bed. Bucky's hands and lips only parting from you long enough to rid another clothing item that shielded his skin from yours until all that stood in his way was your underwear and his leather shorts.
You weren't sure if it was the head rush from only knowing Bucky for a few hours after holding out for so long, or the way his darkened eyes looked you over as he bent his body over yours.
"You're so beautiful." He breathed, leaving a brisk kiss to your lips before trailing wet kisses down your neck and chest.
Your hands gripped onto the sheets harder the further down your abdomen he got, trying to keep your breathing even as fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear.
Bucky looked up at you one last time before dragging the fabric down your legs, tossing them to the side and taking his spot back between your legs.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he peppered kisses to the inside of your thighs, cold metal and warm flesh gently massaging the outsides of them as his stubble scraped at your skin.
A squeak erupted from your throat when he sunk his teeth into the supple flesh, making you move your leg away from his face to pull the skin from between his teeth.
Bucky chuckled and placed a soothing kiss on the mark. One to remind you that none of this had been a dream.
An excited chill ran down your spine when his hot breath fanned your dripping folds. Bucky giving one last glance before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, a soft chuckle bubbling in his chest when your body jolted and you drew in a sharp breath.
"So responsive, I could get use to that." He winked, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit.
Bucky basked in every breathy sound and reaction he elicited from you, moaning at the taste he wanted to burn into his memory. In hopes he had another chance at this, the slice of heaven he held in his hands.
The chance to have his own angel to bend and mold into his filthiest dream.
He moved his hand to ease his middle finger into your heat, groaning at the immediate flutter of your walls as your hands fisted the sheet and chest heaved with a soft moan.
"Oh, c'mon. You can be louder than that, bunny." Bucky purred, curling the long, thick finger to find the sweet spot to set off the reaction he wanted. A louder moan pulling from your chest when he found the rough patch just inside your cunt making him smirk. "There it is."
He locked his lips around your clit again, fingers curling into the spot that pulled the vulgar sounds from your sweet lips as he sucked and flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves. An unfamiliar feeling quickly building in your lower belly.
"Bucky-" You keened as white hot pleasure surged through you, your trembling thighs closing on his head as his metal hand moved from your hip to grope at your chest.
His fingers pinched and grazed the pebbled bud before massaging the flesh under his palm as your back arched, your breath catching in your throat and ears ringing.
Bucky lifted his head from between your legs, finger continuing to stroke your walls to work you through your orgasm as he pulled the laces of his shorts loose.
Your skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive as you opened your eyes again to Bucky standing at the end of the bed and shoving the shorts down his thick thighs. Erection springing free to give a glance of the two barbells on the underside of his cock. One under the ridge of his swollen head, the other at the base.
Your heart pounded in your ears when he moved back between your legs, stomach flipping from the nerves as his leaking tip ran through your folds and prodded your entrance. "Wait-"
Your hand pressed to the firm muscles of Bucky's stomach made his movements still and eyes flick up to meet your nervous expression. "We can stop if you want. Or we can try something else." He suggested, leaning on his palms to catch your lips in his briefly.
You nodded and let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, something else." You breathed.
A whimper passed your lips when he rocked his hips forward, the barbell sliding over your clit sending shocks of pleasure through you.
Bucky's bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth as let out quiet groans from the feeling of your slick coating his shaft.
"Talk to me, bunny. This okay?" He panted, gaze raking over your naked form that still had the sheet clutched tightly as melodic sounds spilled from your lips.
"Feels good," You panted, words slightly slurred from the dizzy feeling in your head caused by the pressure quickly building again. "So good." He moaned, holding his base to have better guidance through your folds.
You bit your lip into your mouth as tears prickled your eyes from the second wave of warmth that spread, choking out a moan as his pace quickened.
"Fucking shit-" Bucky huffed, his grip on your thigh tightening and release spilling onto your lower abdomen.
You inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to steady your heart beat as he pecked a kiss to your knee before standing from the bed to grab a piece of clothing for clean up.
You pulled the blanket from under you to hold to your chest, waiting for him to get dressed and make an excuse to leave like you'd heard your friends talk about after a hook up.
Instead, he wandered towards the kitchen, finding an empty can as he lit a cigarette, your eyes staying fixed on the way the muscles in his back rippled with his movements.
"C'mere." Bucky said with a soft groan as he got under the blankets with you, sitting the can on the nightstand. "You're staying?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.
"If you want me to, yeah." He shrugged, holding his arm out for you to lay on as he placed the cigarette between his teeth and grabbed a pillow to cushion the metal.
You gave a soft yeah and cuddled into his side, the soft whirring of his arm under the pillow helping you slowly drift to sleep.
You felt yourself waking up as the bed dipped under the weight of Bucky moving, deciding not to fully wake up and let him leave in silence.
"Hey," Bucky whispered, moving his body over yours to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "Hmm?" You hummed in response, peaking an eye open to look at the slate blue eyes that held adoration in them.
His knuckles brushed down your arm, a sweet kiss placed on your lips as he gave you a soft smile. "I gotta go, but I left my personal number under your alarm clock. Give me a call sometime."
You nodded and smiled lightly at him, another kiss pecked to your lips before he left the bed to gather his things, walking towards the door.
"I'm gonna hold ya to that, bunny."
TAGLIST: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @eireduchess
#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes smut#stripper!bucky smut#stripper!bucky#bucky#james buchanan barnes#bucky barns x you
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share | t.holland
{pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader}
summary: you don't like to share, but Tom's going to show you what happens to stingy girls on the playground.
word count: 10,663
warnings: i consider this a part two to switch. smut, little bit of angst, fluffy ending. language. explicit warnings under divide.
18+!!! minors stay away!
warnings: mean dom!tom, slight dom!fem oc, voyeurism, mff threesome, degradation, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), orgasm denial, touch denial, slight bondage (hands tied only), jealous reader + arrogant tom, some daddy + sir kink
divider
There was a familiar ache in your core as you made your way into work that day. It was a sensation that shouldn't have embarrassed you anymore considering it was in your line of work to take a beating of the sexual sort, but your blood bubbled with fluttery shame anyways because you knew it was definitely not from any job you'd done. The handprints that lingered on your skin were Tom's, as was the throbbing between your legs.
Your coworkers had grown accustomed to the funny way you'd been walking; after all, it had been months of you turning up to the studio just like this. Aching all over, exhausted, and all flustered smiles as every little jolt of pain in your body reminded you of him. Tom really knew how to keep a woman coming back for more, to say the least.
Despite the tender way you were forced to move around, you were excited to get into work that day. You'd been working on a new project behind the scenes for almost a month already, and today you were finally meeting with your favorite director and photographer to start the ball rolling. This was what you'd been fantasizing about doing ever since you'd been brought into the agency--straying away from your dominatrix persona and onto a more personal, enjoyable path.
Priscilla was already waiting for you in the conference room, bursting with energy as she always was and chatting the ears off of Archie. The two of them were sliding a few of your scribbled mock-ups around, along with more than a few stills of your naked body, and nestled so deeply into a conversation that they didn't notice the click of the door as it shut behind you. Even clearing your throat couldn't break their concentration.
"Starting without me?" you questioned, loudly, and finally caught the glimmering eyes of Priscilla.
Priscilla was practically buzzing with excitement as she grinned at you, clapping her hands once before waving you over, "(Y/N), perfect timing! So, Archie and I were thinking about your ideas for doing a cam-girl style video--"
She chattered on and on, only pausing every so often to take a heaving breathe before continuing. The more she said, the more you realized just how much work the two of them had done without you--Priscilla was already pitching set designs and potential scenarios for each video, and Archie was doing his best to help you visualize the filmography he had in mind. It was pretty hard to keep up, but you had to admit seeing their passion for the project only spurred your own to burn a little brighter.
The project was something you'd been dreaming of for awhile. A solo series of videos in the iconic style of a cam-girl; just you, your camera, and whatever you felt like putting out there for the world to see. For so long you'd been afraid to even pitch the idea out of fear of being denied funding, and rightfully so.
You'd had to fight tooth and nail to gain the backing of the agency. It had been a month of pitching idea after idea, crunching numbers and screening all the statistics of solo work so that you could propose a target profit for the company. In the end, you'd gotten the green light--but there was a lot riding on this first video.
If you failed to meet the target you'd set for yourself, the agency would pull the plug on the project and you'd be right back to the leather outfits and whining men. The thought of it urged you to outperform all the standards you'd set for yourself. You were peddle to the metal, full throttle ahead, and Priscilla and Archie's sounding board of ideas were exactly the encouragement you needed.
Archie fiddled with some settings on his camera, instructing you on a few head shots until he was satisfied. "That's it!" he cheered, "You like it? Obviously we'll work on better lighting for the videos, and there'll be editing--but I think this suits you."
Peering over his shoulder, your heart soared at the work of your favorite camera man. "Oh, Archie! That's perfect... If you'd just shown me that I'd definitely think it was the real deal." you gasped, and he grinned at you cheerfully. "How about a lunch break before we get back to work?"
The two of them muttered some hushed agreements, nodding absentmindedly as Priscilla looked over the photos and they returned to the scatter of papers and film on the table. "Yeah, yeah, you go ahead, honey." Priscilla cooed, waving a hand over her shoulder carelessly before tilting her head and squinting her eyes at one of your drawings. "Oh, what do you think about--no, that won't do... but maybe?"
With a hushed chuckle, you shook your head at the two of them and backed out of the room quietly. It almost seemed as if they were more excited than you were, but your stomach was rumbling and you needed something to eat before you started chewing on paper like a goat. Only, along the way toward the exit you paused outside one of the studios at the sound of Tom's voice.
Peeking inside, you smiled at the sight of his mop of curls bobbing--the smile faded to a grimace as you realized he was in no position to talk at the moment. You trailed a little further into the room and shot a tentative smile to one of the crew members who nodded to you, no longer surprised by your presence. Many times before you'd sat in on Tom's filming days, as he had done yours, but never before had you seen him at work with his most frequent costar.
Her name was Melaina, a startlingly attractive woman with what you were fairly certain was the world's most perfect face, and she was the star of most of Tom's work. You had nothing against her, having run into her quite a few times at work and never being anything short of pleased with her sweet and charismatic aura, but man was it hard not to feel inferior as you watched the two of them in action. It was as if they knew what the other would do before they even moved, connected on some spiritual level that boosted their chemistry to an astronomical level.
Tom's body was glistening with sweat and oil, his eyes dark and hooded with lust as he towered over her. The muscles in his back, chest, and arms all rippled with every move he made and caught the light just right, and you found yourself shifting on your feet subconsciously as you watched. Your hands twitched with the desire to push that one stubborn curl out of his face as it slid across his forehead, heavy and sodden with sweat.
Melaina gave a breathy moan that had you swallowing down a lump in your throat, her hands raking down Tom's chest only for him to swat them away and pin them to the bed above her head, "No touching!" he snapped, voice booming through the cavernous room, and you nearly groaned in sync with his counterpart. Too many times he'd growled those words to you, just like that, and the heat between your legs throbbed at the memory.
"Please, daddy," Melaina wailed, "I wanna cum!"
For a moment you rolled the name around your tongue, pursing your lips as you pondered what it would feel like to call Tom such a thing. It didn't feel right though; a sour taste compared to the deliciously sweet way sir rolled from your lips. His low, devilish chuckle brought you back to the present as you focused on the scene before you.
With a long, drawn out roll of his hips, Tom leaned down to Melaina's ear and spoke, "Bad girls don't get to come, darling."
Oh, fuck.
Hearing that name, that one little word, spill forth from his lips in reference to someone other than yourself ignited a certain flame within you that you hadn't felt in quite some time. It was green; everything tinged green in your vision like the sickening tone of the clouds before a treacherous storm. Jealousy wasn't something you wore often, but hearing that was enough to sit the crown of envy heavily upon your head.
Almost as if he could sense it, sense your turmoil, Tom's head tilted back until he looked you heavily in the eye. Your jaw tensed as he continued to push his hips harder through Melaina's cries and pleas, fingers clenching into fists as you tried to get yourself under control. It didn't mean anything.
You and Tom were nothing but friends with benefits, heavy on the benefits and light on the friendship, and this was his job. Hell, it was your job too! It didn't mean a damn thing.
His eyes never strayed from yours as that familiar pinch formed between his brows, his entire body growing rigid. He was brutal with the force of his hips, his hands groping roughly at Melaina's perfect ass and his lips parting in a silent 'o' that grew wider and wider until--there it was. His eyes locked on yours, Tom thrust twice more as a gritted laugh burst from his chest and he stilled completely. She mewled beneath him like a vixen, arching off the bed and crying, "Yes, daddy! Cum for me!"
He knew. His haughty smirk, ticked jaw, and glinting eyes told you well enough that he knew exactly what you were feeling, all the bitter and envious thoughts swirling through your mind. He knew, and he was thoroughly enjoying the way you were rooted in place under the weight of all your jealousy, your eyes locked with his and unable to break free.
"Cut!"
The sound of the clapper snapping and the director's loud shout startled you out of the strange limbo of envy and hunger you'd been trapped in. Tom muttered something to Melaina with a flirtatious grin that made your gut twist, and she laughed loudly whilst slapping a hand across his chest playfully. Suddenly, you weren't so hungry anymore, nor were you entirely interested in speaking to Tom.
You were out of focus for the rest of your day at work, earning disgruntled and concerned stares from your two colleagues who were working tirelessly to perfect all of your plans before the test shoot the following day. All of your thoughts were consumed with Tom, though, and it left you feeling nauseous. Never before had you cared much at all that he was with other women, knowing it was just a day's work for him, but seeing him with Melaina had truly rubbed you raw in the worst way.
The ache between your legs didn't make your heart flutter for the moment. Instead, each time you moved wrong and felt that persistent twinge, it made bile creep up your throat and your face burn with a mixture of bitter emotions. It wasn't that you were suddenly craving more from Tom--because you weren't, and as much as you enjoyed his company you weren't interested in a relationship.
Inferiority was a hell of a bitter pill. That was the root of the green eyed monster that was steadily taking control of you; Melaina made you feel inferior, and you hated it more than anything. Clearly he found her to be a better costar than you, considering he'd not once requested you even after starring in your own special. That was the first strike.
But, was she a better lay than you? Did she feel better, make him feel better than you? Did she talk dirtier, obey faster, and mold herself into whatever he wanted better than you? What if you weren't the only one he invited into his own bed at night?
By the time you left work the sun was setting, hours had passed, and you were exhausted from your racing mind. Usually Tom would have come to find you after he finished filming, but he hadn't and that bothered you. You knew it was probably all a game to him, a way for him to get you all riled up and tease you for it, but you weren't playing. You didn't want to play his games today, and when he finally texted you that night you left all of his messages on read with an acrid taste in your mouth.
"Ready for the big day?"
A peculiar sense of deja vu washed over you as you opened your dressing room door to reveal Tom perched on the other vanity seat, a tiny smile twitching at his lips and a twinkle in his eye. You really should have expected him to be there considering he'd been eagerly talking about watching you film for days, but after ignoring him you were more than surprised to see him waiting patiently for you to arrive. The door shut with a dull click, and Tom watched you closely.
Whatever he was playing at, you weren't going to bite--today was a big day for you, and nothing was going to distract you from your work. "What are you doing here?" you asked, huffing as your voice cracked and robbed you of your attempt to play it cool.
He just chuckled, a hoarse and airy sound, and licked his lips, "You think I'd miss the chance to see my girl touch herself for hours?"
His girl?
The words swirled around your brain the entire time you got ready, Marlena eyeing you curiously as you twiddled your thumbs quietly and payed no mind to either of the two people in your presence. What the hell did he mean by that? Why did your heart go on the fritz at those two silly words?
"Are you mad at me, lovie?" Eyes flickering over to Tom, you grew hot under his speculative gaze. Head tilted to one side, brown eyes narrowed slightly, and lips puckered in a tiny pout that made you swoon, he asked, "Have I done something to upset you?"
In the mirror you could see Marlena fighting back a smile, looking between the two of you with quivering lips as she held herself back from interrupting the moment. "No," you muttered, dropping your eyes back to your fiddling fingers, "I'm just nervous."
You didn't have to look to know that Tom was smirking, the sound of his soft laughter cluing you into the fact well enough. There was that deja vu again, your mind traveling back to that first time he'd sat in your dressing room and asked if he made you nervous. Teasingly, he asked, "Am I making you nervous, darling?"
Rolling your eyes, you huffed, "No."
Tom's eyes were all over you the moment you stepped onto the set and dropped your robe into an assistant's waiting arms. Clad in a skimpy lace negligee with nothing underneath, it was understandable that he'd be quite enraptured--never before had you worn something so dainty for your work, nor had you ever worn anything quite like the transparent scrap during any of your visits to his apartment. Even you yourself were quite enthralled by the look of it, having admired your reflection in the mirror for ages before finally joining the crew to start working.
As you soaked up the warm, tingling sensation of his ravenous eyes trailing over every inch of your body, you slowly relaxed into his presence. All the thoughts of Melaina drifted away, and you were biting back pleased smiles each and every time you acknowledged his gaze. It felt nice; it felt like it had every time he'd watched you film before, only better because now you were finally fully enjoying your project.
He hung back beside Priscilla in front of the big screen which displayed all the different camera angles whilst you ambled your way around the set. It wasn't complete, but it was enough for you all to get an idea of what the final design should be. A queen sized bed with dark, silk sheets in the center of a warmly lit stage, piled high with pillows of all sizes--already you were imagining towering bed posts with chiffon curtains framing the beautiful space.
There was one camera posted at the foot of the bed which was to be the main view point for the video. Climbing aboard you shifted until your bottom was posted over the scribbled X and leaned back onto your elbows, your knees propped up and spread wide. "How's this look?" you called out, craning your neck to see Priscilla, Archie, and Tom.
"Slide up a bit," Archie bellowed back, "a bit more--that's it! Oh, fuck, that looks amazing."
Having slid up the mattress half a foot, your head fell onto the bed of pillows that were finally within reach. From your new vantage point you could admire Tom, and the sight of him was enough to already have your thighs dampening. It seemed as if he were unsure as to where to look, his eyes flickering back and forth from the blown up, pixelated version of you to the real deal hastily.
The angle was awkward, and no matter how hard you stared he never made eye contact. It was then that you realized he couldn't see your face, at least not the real one, and a certain thrill sparked within you. Trailing your fingers over your stomach slowly, you reached for the frilled edge of the fabric and bit back a giggle as he tensed all over.
Licking your lips in time with Tom, you shouted, "Should we get started, then?"
Within seconds the clapper was dropped, and Priscilla boomed, "Test one, rolling!"
It was strange having to force yourself to look into the camera, rather than avoiding it so as not to ruin the flow of a scene. But, after a few moments of running your hands over your body and trying to get into the right mindset, your mind drifted away from the crowded room and into your own personal bubble. In there, that secret place you escaped to, it was just yourself and Tom.
Your body heated as you pictured him in place of the camera. In your vision he was bare and glistening, just for you; sitting on his heels with his knees spread apart and his hands ghosting over his length languidly. So many nights you'd laid before him like this, aching and begging for his hands to take the place of your own.
"Show me what those fingers can do, darling." he cooed, voice silky and sweeter than honey. It was a stark contrast to the dark, all-consuming pull of his brown eyes that lusted for you greedily.
Breathing a little harder, you tugged the stretchy lace further down your chest until your breasts were exposed to the chilled air. Tom's eyes glimmered, his tongue swiping over his lower lip, and you desperately wished it were his lips wrapping around one of your pebbled buds instead of your clammy fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second as you imagined it; reminiscing on the sensation of his hot, silky tongue swirling around your nipples and tugging them delightfully into his mouth.
It was incredibly hard not to cry out for him as you descended further into the scenario you'd created for yourself. Nevertheless, you swallowed down all the whimpers of his name that bubbled to your lips eagerly, instead whining soft noises that even turned yourself on. "Love those pretty sounds, (Y/N)." he always hummed down your ear, scorching breathe fanning all across your neck.
The facade didn't fade as you opened your eyes again with heavy lids that begged to fall shut again. You tugged hard at one of your rosebuds in sync with Tom's harsh pull over his cock, and your back arched as you gave a loud cry. He moved his hand faster and clenched his eyes shut for a second as he groaned, "Enough teasing, lovie, show me that perfect pussy. Wanna see you cum all over your fingers f'me."
You couldn't have agreed more. Your heat was hot and dripping, your thighs slipping across the sheets a little more easily as you pooled your juices onto the mattress longingly. Tracing your fingers over the swell of your chest and down your stomach, you peeled your flimsy gown back until it was all bunched up beneath your breasts.
Tom watched with baited breathe, held perfectly in sync with your own burning chest, as you teased your fingers all around where you ached to be touched the most. Just as you finally dipped the tip of your middle finger into the slick, a shuffle and quiet laugh shattered the vision of Tom. You huffed in frustration the buzzing in your veins dulled and your hand fell limp over your bare middle.
"Cut!" Priscilla shouted, and even she sounded frustrated as you sat up and ripped your negligee back down, "That was really good, (Y/N)! Wanna have a look?"
You did, but you could barely hear the words coming from Priscilla's mouth as you took in the scene before you. There was Tom, hands cupped over his crotch like they always were when he watched you film, but this time he wasn't watching you. Instead, he was entirely focused on Melaina who stood beside him with one dainty hand stroking his arm, the other twirling the skirt of her sundress lazily.
Your blood boiled to life once more, but no longer was it out of desire for Tom. Pursing your lips, you called back to Priscilla, "No, let's just keep going." He was still engrossed in his hushed conversation with her, and you added pettily, "Might I remind some of you to be quiet on set!"
Melaina's stifled giggle turned the green hue in your eyes red, but you took a deep breathe and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything. The mantra echoed through your head as you did your best to keep your ridiculous envy at bay; Tom wasn't yours, nor were you his, and you had nothing to be jealous of.
You did, however, roll your eyes at the sight of Tom's devious smirk. It only widened at the action, and in spite of your wish to pretend he didn't affect you, your thigh clenched subconsciously. "Sorry, darling, we'll be quiet." he hummed, greedily soaking up the distasteful purse of your lips with his eyes.
It was harder to get back into the groove once the cameras started rolling again. Tom's image wavered in place of the camera, your mind clouded with all the conflicting emotions you were feeling, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't get back into that bubble. You pushed through, though, and picked up where you'd left off.
"Look at you," Tom simpered as your fingers dipped into your slick once again, your jaw slackening as you toyed one finger through your entrance, "absolutely dripping for me. Does it get you off to see me with another woman?"
What the hell was that? His words were like a record scratch in your mind, your fingers recoiling from your throbbing core in shock. Trying again, you changed your direction and drifted your fingers to your clit with a soft sigh. Closing your eyes to shut out his smirking face again, you rolled the soft pads over your bud and felt your lips part in a hushed moan.
How easy it would have been to keep them closed and push yourself over that edge with nothing but the sensation to edge you forward, but you knew that wouldn't make for a satisfying watch. So, begrudgingly, you opened your eyes again to the scene you'd created for yourself. Tom was sitting on the bed now, his legs spread wide before him to leave space for you between, and his length was laid against his thigh lazily. The tip was weeping and blazing red, a thick drop of pearly precum making your lips tingle with desire.
His hands wrapped around the footboard of the bed, gripping the solid wood so tightly his knuckles turned white and his arms rippled with unbridled strength. All that muscle, the sinewy, languid curl of hard muscle beneath soft flesh pulled taught in restraint; it was enough to have you drooling. Your fingers slipped easily from your swollen clit to your slit, and you dipped the tip of your middle finger inside with a choked cry.
Tom moaned back at you, his cock twitching as he flexed his stomach, eyes glued to the tight clench of your cunt around your fingers. "Fuck, lovie, do your fingers feel as good as mine?" he asked, "Does that pussy feel as good as hers?"
What the fuck?
Melaina's giggle echoed through the set, piercing the thickened air and startling you nearly as much as the wild turn your imagination had taken. Growling angrily, you slapped your hands onto the mattress beside you and pouted, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Melaina squeaked, sounding so genuinely apologetic it only irritated you further, "Stop it, Tom, you made me laugh."
Sitting up once more, propped up on your hands, you scowled fiercely at the sight of Tom's arm draped over her shoulders and his head dipped low to whisper in her ear. His eyes were trained on you, though, and you knew damn well that coy smirk that teased at his lips was meant for you alone. Melaina gripped the hand over her shoulder tightly as she stifled another laugh, eyes twinkling to match the beaming smile on her face.
Backing his lips away from Melaina's hair, Tom faced you dead on as his head cocked to the side playfully. Narrowing your eyes, you scoffed as he winked at you. That bastard! You flopped back onto the bed with a growl, wanting nothing more than to kick him off the set, but you refrained. You knew it would only cement what he'd already figured out within his head; it would prove that you were without a doubt, one hundred and ten percent jealous.
"How about we take five, everyone!"
You practically threw yourself off of the bed, snatching your robe from the timid assistant with a huff before stomping off the set entirely. What was he playing at? It was one thing for Tom to toy with you, but to purposefully throw you off when you were working? That was low.
Alone in the small room, you dropped your head onto your vanity with a loud groan of annoyance. So many new emotions were swirling around you, plaguing your mind and twisting your gut up into knots so tight you actually felt ill. You couldn't even begin to unravel the twisted mess to pick apart all the different things you were feeling.
There was a quiet knock on the door, and you didn't have to look to know who it was. "G'way!" you grumbled, hissing angrily when the door opened anyways, "I said--"
Tom crashed his lips to yours, choking your words and the muffled squeal of surprise that escaped you. Pushing his weight onto you and pinning you to the chair, he bit down on your lower lip until you whined pitifully, pulling away to look you heavily in the eye, "You ignored me last night."
"So? I wasn't feeling it." you retorted, the almost lie making your stomach flutter. "Is that why you're trying to ruin my test shoot? Another bullshit punishment?"
He gaped at you for a moment, his lips parting in surprise as he blinked down at you wordlessly. But, just as you were settling into the triumph of finally rendering him speechless, he sputtered a sinister chuckle and smirked. Clicking his tongue reproachfully, he tutted, "Are you jealous, darling? Is that what this little tantrum is about? Are you jealous of Melaina?"
The words of your imaginary Tom echoed in your ears, the thin flesh and cartilage heating up in embarrassment as you scoffed, "No, why the hell would you think that?"
Smirk widening, he leaned close to nuzzle his face into your ear as he hummed, "Mm, I think you're lying, lovie. I think you were jealous watching me fuck her yesterday, and today you're so bothered you can't even perform. Envy is a hell of a thing, wouldn't you say?"
His lips sucked on the tender skin of your earlobe, drawing the faintest of whimpers from your lips, and he released it with a dramatic suckle of a wet, sloppy kiss. He whispered tauntingly, "Did it make you jealous to see me cum for somebody else? To see me fuck Melaina instead of you?"
"N-no-- oh, fuck."
Tom's fingers dragged heavily through your folds, a gush of your juices immediately flooding into his open palm in response. His thumb rolled over your clit faintly, teasing the rapidly swelling bundle as he chuckled right into your ear, "Don't lie to me, darling."
That stupid name that he'd called her made you steel your resolve, stubbornly repeating, "'M not jealous, Tom. You can fuck whoever you want."
His fingers plunged into you to the knuckle, earning a loud gasp as your hands flew to his arms and clutched him tightly. "Yeah? 'S that so?" he asked, nipping the hot skin of your neck until you whined desperately, "Think I'd like a taste then, love."
This was certainly turning out far better than you'd expected. With a racing heart and a quivering breathe, you gasped, "Please, Tom." Tom's eyes narrowed at you, his expression hardening as he pinched your hip in warning. "Please, I want you to have a taste, sir."
He grinned, patting your cheek in a playful slap as he cooed, "There's my good girl. Spread your legs, darling."
Obediently, you eagerly spread your legs until your thighs were digging into the sides of your chair and shaking as you fought to keep them splayed so wide. The lace of your negligee was pulled taught and curled up over your hips at the movement, exposing all of you to Tom's greedy eyes. He licked his lips as he gazed down at his fingers still buried inside you as deep as they would go, flexing the two digits and closing his eyes as you cursed and clenched around them.
You crooned as he pulled them out and thrust them back in slowly, curling until the tips dragged over your spot lazily. "Please, sir, want your tongue, too." you pleaded, digging your thighs further into the seat as you rutted down onto his once again motionless fingers.
His eyes snapped open and he quirked his one ruffled brow playfully, "Yeah? You want my fingers and my tongue?" Tom dug the pad of his thumb into your clit deeply, pressing your button down and making your entire body spasm from the harsh stimulation, "I don't know if you deserve both, lovie. You're lucky you're even getting my fingers."
Whining, you threw your head back childishly and ground your hips into his fingers indignantly. He kept them steady, only slightly brushing your g-spot through your forced motion, and his free hand clamped down on your thigh in a bruising grip. "Please!" you begged, "Please, sir, I'll be so good!"
Your pleas molded into a shout as his lips closed suddenly around your clit, his thumb sliding aside to spread your folds open for him as he sucked at your sensitive nub harshly. Tom's fingers pulled out slowly before slamming back into you, his fist effectively punching your core and making you ache, but you moaned and begged for more. Each forceful blow pushed his fingers right into your spot, the tips curling to drag against your upper wall with every motion.
In mere moments you were seeing stars. Your stomach was tightening beyond measure, that coil winding so tight you feared you might break when it finally snapped, but you met each thrust of his hand with a jerk of your hips eagerly. His tongue flicked against your clit in rapid kitten licks, sparking your body to spasm violently each time. "I'm so close, sir!" you gasped, digging your nails into the armrest of your seat as your back arched in pleasure, "I'm gonna--"
With one last long, hard suck on your bundle, Tom pulled away from you completely. His fingers ripped away from your dripping slit and slid in between his glistening lips, that tongue swirling dramatically around the digits as he sat back on his heels much like he had in your imagination. Gaping, you huffed, "What the hell, Tom?"
He grinned devilishly, "Admit you were jealous, and I'll let you cum."
Sputtering, you spat out, "I told you I wasn't jealous."
"Mm, but I know you're lying, darling," he teased, eyes glinting playfully, "and I want to hear you admit it. You wanna cum all over my fingers and my tongue?"
You nodded hesitantly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you whispered, "Yes, sir."
He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours and his lips ghosting over your own as he whispered, "Admit you were jealous."
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breathe. You felt hot all over with embarrassment, your skin burning and your blood boiling beneath, but fuck, you really wanted that sweet release that only he could give you. So, with trembling lips, you whispered, "I was jealous."
Eyes still closed, you jumped as his fingers brushed over your clit in a feather light touch. He pressed a slow, soft kiss to your lips that had you chasing him for more when he backed away and asked, "Are you still jealous?" One finger toyed with your slit, drawing a harsh line up and down your entrance as you resisted the urge to push further into his hand.
"Y-yes."
He chuckled, and your eyes snapped open as he backed away from you, his hand disappearing from your core. His eyes were dark in a ruthless stare as he stated, "You need to learn to share, love. Stingy girls don't get to cum." And, just like that, he retreated from the room leaving you staring after him in utter shock.
You weren't sure what you were expecting when you rocked up to Tom's apartment that night following his typical, "You up?" text. What you most certainly had not expected, though, was to find Melaina sprawled out on his sofa in nothing but a sheer negligee--nothing at all underneath. In a strange sense, you figured you should have seen it coming; what better way for Tom to torment you than to make you face the root of your jealousy?
"Mm, on second thought," you hummed, pursing your lips as you took in the woman's sensual form upon his couch, "I think I'll be going."
Turning to leave, you crashed nose first into Tom's hard chest with a muffled grunt of surprise. His hands crept around your waist in a lazy fashion, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until his warm palms found the icy chill of your bare skin. It sent a shiver down your spine, much to your own chagrin.
He pouted, jutting his lower lip out at you tauntingly as he leaned close to brush his nose along the high point of your cheek. "You've only just got here, darling," he mused, "I missed you last night. You left me all alone."
It was really pathetic how easily he broke through your walls. Despite your tireless efforts to re-stack each brick he knocked down, the feeling of his soft lips ghosting along the supple skin of your cheeks had those same cinderblocks crumbling to dust. A gentle kiss on the apple of your cheek, a fleeting peck at the slope of your forehead, one slow trail along the angle of your jaw--you were putty in his hands when his lips finally found your own.
Even as his tongue traced the outline of your lips, you desperately tried to fight his hold on you. Grumbling into his mouth, "I'm sure you could have found company elsewhere--"
Tom bit down on your lower lip, hard, and pulled until it snapped back with a loud pop that made you whimper. Yet, his eyes were tender in a way you'd never seen before as he gazed down at you longingly, whispering, "I wanted you, though."
Yeah, you were fucked.
Breathing a little heavier, you gave into your more animalistic desires in spite of the jealousy and irritation that still boiled deep within your veins. A childish, prideful part of you boasted over his words; he'd wanted you! Not Melaina, not anyone else, just you. It was utterly ridiculous.
Tom's brown eyes were warm, inviting, and curious as he waited for you to make the next move. You could see the questions bouncing around behind them; would you leave? Would you stay? But, there was a familiar glimmer of mischief buried behind the thick honey gaze that had you waiting for the other foot to fall.
Taking your lack of movement as an answer, a desire to stay, Tom pressed another kiss to your lips. Long, slow, and mind-boggling--it felt like your soul left your body with the way he curled his plush lips into yours. Already you were heating up, your body buzzing and growing hotter with desire in each second that passed.
You clawed your fingers into the hem of his shirt, scratching your nails along the flesh of his lower abdomen in a futile attempt to ground yourself. It was a frantic plea to him to hold you there, to keep you from floating away as his kiss took you to higher places. He gave a gentle hiss into your mouth at the sting, but pushed harder into your face as his hands inched higher up your back to toy with the band of your bra.
Fingers gently swept the collar of your shirt down, exposing your neck as fuller, softer lips ghosted along the line of the fabric. Wait--lips? Jumping, you reeled back from Tom's face with widened eyes to find Melaina blinking back at you, eyes blown wide with lust.
"What are you--"
Tom popped the clasp of your bra with ease, looking down at you with darkened irises. "Is this okay?" he asked, glancing at Melaina who was waiting beside your twisted, intertwined bodies for approval.
Her fingers swirled slow, tingling circles on your hip, lip caught between pearly, white teeth as she watched you with enraptured intensity. Two minutes ago, the word no would have spilled from your lips without a moment of hesitation--but now? Now, as your eyes lingered on the swollen, bitten lower lip that called for you to taste it; as you trailed them lower to admire the perfectly soft curve on every inch of her body, it wasn't so clear.
There was a supple rise of her chest with every breathe, hardened nipples poking through the transparent fabric of her dress. Rounded breasts upon a gentle, sloping waist, wide hips that certainly gave way to a perfect handful of ass and thigh, all leading the eye down the length of her sculpted legs. Melaina was like a work of art, and every inch of her that you admired sent tingles through your body.
Glancing back at Tom, you nearly moaned out loud. Her eyes burned the side of your face, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Tom's stare into your very soul. It sucked the breathe out of you and left you feeling dizzy, your vision darkening until all you could see were the artful angles of his face.
You spoke hoarsely, swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, "Yes."
Tom's mouth parted against yours in an instant, his hot tongue slipping inside and making your eyes roll back as Melaina pressed her body against your side and latched onto your neck. Sucking, biting, rolling the soft muscle of her tongue all along each sharp nibble to soothe the tender flesh--it was an overload of sensation all at once. You didn't know where to put your hands as they both crept theirs all over your body.
It was impossible to decipher where one ended and the other began. Whose hand was that gripping your ass? Whose were peeling your bra straps down our arms under your sleeves? Who was slipping their thumbs along the waistband of your pants, tickling your hot, sensitive skin?
Moaning, you gasped, "Please!"
You weren't even sure what you were asking for, but Melaina quickly stepped aside to let Tom pull your shirt over your head as your bra fell to the floor at your feet. He admired your chest for a long moment, palms cupping the swell of your breasts as his thumbs rolled over the stiffened peaks of your nipples, earning a muffled groan from you. Licking his lips, he stepped back and waved the eagerly waiting woman forward.
As Melaina devoured your chest, you followed him with your gaze through heavy lidded eyes. He watched on with an indecipherable glint in his eyes, lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva and his own. Those long lashes fluttered as he dragged his tongue slowly over the plump of his lower lip, nostrils flaring in a sharp inhale as if he were tasting you all over again.
Her lips were wrapped tightly around your left nipple when he finally disappeared behind you, a shiver wracking your body when his fingers caressed the arch of your spine in a fluttering touch. Chest pressed warmly to your bare back, he dipped low to mix his own marks with the ones she had left behind. You dropped your head back onto his shoulder, lulling to the side to expose the entirety of your throat to him in submission.
When had he removed his shirt? The bare skin of his torso was scorching on your back, matching the heat of his tongue dipping in your collarbone in time with a twirl of hers around your other nipple. Fingers, hands, lips, tongues everywhere; your body was reaching its boiling point.
"Come to bed with us?" Tom's husky whisper directly into the shell of your ear had you whining, arching your back until your behind rolled harshly into his crotch. His length ground into you roughly, a quiet groan escaping his lips at the stimulation, "Fuck, darling, you like this?"
Weakly, barely able to focus through all the pleasurable touches to your body, you whispered, "Yes, yes, sir. Please."
You should have known it wouldn't last. You should have anticipated the shift in Tom's attitude, revealing his true intentions to you as he lead you by the wrist into his bedroom to find a dining chair at the side of his bed. But, you blinked up at him dumbfounded as he held up a silk tie before your face with a devilish grin.
Melaina stretched out on the bed with a hand between her legs, knees propped open wide as she touched herself lazily and watched you closely. Glancing at the tie, then the chair, and then Tom's arrogant smirk, you mumbled, "What is that?"
He just chuckled throatily, grinning as he hummed, "Sit in the chair, darling." You blinked again, frozen in place, "Sit, now, or I promise you'll not like the outcome."
Instinctively, your knees crumbled until you fell into the chair with a frown. He snatched your wrists roughly, twisting them behind the back of the chair until the backs of your hands touched and you whined in protest, "That hurts, Tom."
He pulled further, a sharp ache burning through the muscles of your arms as they dug harshly into the back of the chair. "Watch it, (Y/N)." he growled.
"Sorry, sir." you muttered pitifully, eyes downcast to avoid the amused smile on Melaina's face, "What's going on?"
Tom didn't answer you for a long while, taking his time to tie your wrists with the tie until he was certain you couldn't break free. Testing the restraints, you pouted as the fabric didn't yield in any way to your tugs. He hummed under his breathe in appreciation, though, stroking a finger up the length of your arm as he rounded to face you again.
Melaina sat up and leaned into the arm he reached out toward her, your gut twisting bitterly at the sight of her purring under his touch like a cat. "I told you, darling, that stingy girls don't get to cum." he restated his words from earlier, and your body burned with embarrassment, "So, I'm going to teach you to share. You're gonna sit there and watch me, and you're going to deal with it like a big girl. Understood?"
"But I--"
"Do you understand?" Tom hissed, eyes narrowing in a fierce glare that dared you to challenge him further. You couldn't miss the way his fingers twitched, the familiar sting of his palm on your behind ghosting over the skin in anticipation of impact. He remained rooted in place, though, leaning into Melaina's body that was steadily wrapping further around him.
Her lips were on his chest, leaving a flurry of angry purple marks that made you want to scream like a child. "I understand, sir." you grumbled, slumping into the seat.
He smiled, "Good."
It was as if you disappeared from the room entirely in that instant. He turned to Melaina, completely absorbed in her presence as his hands slid around her waist to grab fistfuls of her ass. Groaning, he squeezed the flesh tighter until she whimpered. Your own body ignited in shame and jealousy, fingers clenching into fists that tugged uselessly against their bonds.
The sound of their lips smacking as they kissed, wet and sloppy sounds that echoed in your ears, made you want to whine. How had it come to this, when only moments ago they were kissing you like that? Was this the only reason you were here?
You watched on with an aching core, racing heart, and sweaty palms as the heat intensified between them. There was that chemistry you'd witnessed on set--their movements so in sync it seemed as if they were connected spiritually, a perfect flow of seamless give and take. It was almost painful to watch.
The jealousy that tore you to shreds was not from a desire to be the only woman in Tom's life, though a selfish part of you did secretly relish in the thought. It was an aching, grotesque and petty desire to know that you were the best. You were jealous of the way he found pleasure in someone else, when all you wanted was to know that you were unmatched. You were jealous to feel his touch on your body, and some part of you was growing desirous of hers as well.
It was a purely physical sort of envy; no feelings attached. Or, at least that's what you told yourself. In some sense there had to be a sort of emotional drive behind it, but it was easier to tell yourself it was stupid pride instead of murky, confusing feelings.
Your eyes clenched shut as you bit back a huff of frustration. Melaina's moans grew louder, until she shrieked, "Please, daddy, wanna feel you!"
There was a smack and a rustle, and when you opened your eyes Tom had shoved Melaina flat onto her stomach. The skin of her still rippling ass was reddened in a blazing hand print, his hand rubbing over the mark soothingly. "You wanna feel daddy's cock, princess?" he growled, "Think (Y/N) deserves to watch?"
"Yes, daddy," Melaina murmured, "want her to watch. Want her to see how good I make you feel."
The green eyed monster in your head was stomping circles through your brain, screeching over the cruelty of the situation. Yet, you kept your lips pursed shut as you glared back at Tom with just as much ferocity. He wasn't going to see you break; you'd come out of this on top, you were sure of it. You weren't going to let him see that she'd hit the root of your jealousy right on it's ugly, rearing head with her words.
You scoffed, and he glared at you with a sort of intensity that made your legs quiver, but you faced his scowl head on with a ferocity of your own to match. You wouldn't let him see that she'd hit the root of your jealousy right on its ugly, rearing head with those words; if he wanted to play, then you were going to play just as hard.
Or, maybe you were just emboldened by the fact that he hadn't called her darling again. Either way, you stared him in the eye until he looked away from you with a clenched jaw and twitching hand. Your first, and only, victory of the night.
It was torture. He moaned as he pushed into her, eyes clenching shut and hands squeezing at her flesh desperately when he bottomed out with his hips buried into her bottom. Yet, you couldn't decide which method of suffering was worse; to keep your eyes opened or closed.
Open, you had to watch his face contort with pleasure and the way he interacted with her eager, willing body. Closed, you had to listen to the sounds they made and feel the way your body reacted in accordance. You were dripping onto the seat, angry tears pooling in your eyes, and your arms were going numb from their restrained position.
"Eyes open, darling." Tom ordered, and you bit back the curse that bubbled to your lips. He watched you with hooded eyes until you met his gaze, immediately blocking you out again to focus on the messy, fucked out woman on his bed. She was wailing, and you were trying your best not to join in the chorus.
He was going an an unrelenting pace, each brutish thrust of his hips eliciting a strangled cry from Melaina. She was clawing at the sheets, incrementally crawling away from him until he pulled her back with a forceful tug of her hips. "Daddy, 'm gonna cum!" she moaned, breathless.
You squirmed in your seat, bottom sliding slickly over the wooden surface from how much you'd pooled into it. "Come on, princess. Cum f'me." he urged, voice strained as he rocked his hips faster into her. The sound of skin against skin mixed with the damp sounds from his force into her slick echoed loudly through the room, but it was unparalleled to the unrestrained scream the tore from her throat.
Watching with wide eyes and strained, clenched thighs, you gasped as Melaina arched into the bed wildly. Her actions were so over the top you'd have assumed they were theatrics, if it weren't for the way you could see her physically quivering with full body shivers. Fuck, why couldn't that have been you?
Tom pulled out of her roughly, turning on you and clambering off of his bed to lean over you. His hands wrapped around the arms of the chair tightly, the muscle of his arms rippling as he gripped it so tight the wood creaked. "Learned your lesson yet, darling?" he demanded, nose to nose with you.
Nodding desperately, you gasped, "Yes, sir."
He disappeared from view, Melaina still crumpled into the bed and spent as she breathed heavily. When his fingers brushed your wrists, untying them slowly, you nearly wept with relief. Finally, he was going to touch you.
Pulling you up from the chair, Tom gripped your chin firmly as his thumb tugged at your bottom lip. "Want me to touch you, darling?" You nodded, begging him with your eyes and whining when he chuckled, "You have to earn it."
He sat back on the bed, scooting until his back was propped against the headboard with his legs spread wide. Patting the space between them, he beckoned you forward until you were perched between his knees on your own. You yelped as Melaina crept up behind you, hands sneaking up the skin of your back until they rested lightly on your shoulders, but you relaxed into her touch as she pressed a feather light kiss to your neck.
As she nipped at the skin, blossoming a new mark amidst all the ones she'd left before, Tom grinned deviously. "Let's make a deal, darling," he breathed, "if you can stop yourself from cumming all over her tongue, I'll let you come on my cock."
You squeaked as her fingers dipped down the front of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she drew nearer to where you were aching for any sort of touch. Deep down you knew how hard it would be not to finish at any sort of stimulation due to how worked up and ravenously needy you were, but if there was a chance to get Tom where you wanted him then you were going to take it. So, you nodded, "Please."
Melaina pushed you forward until you were bent over, propped up on your knees and elbows. Tom's length was straining against his thigh, and he flexed as your slightly frantic breathing blew across the sensitive skin. He reached out a hand to caress your cheek before winding it to the back of your head, pulling you closer until you wrapped your lips around the tip.
You groaned in sync with him as you felt her blow a cool breeze on your clit, your legs nearly buckling as she forced them apart with her hands. Stars were bursting behind your eyes the very moment she drew a line through your folds with her tongue, but Tom's shove against your head kept you grounded. Focusing, you pushed forward until your nose was buried in his pelvis and he moaned loudly.
Her taste was still all over him. Pulling back until you only held his tip in your mouth again, you swirled your tongue around the head and parted your lips to let your spit soak down his length entirely. You looked up and blinked at him coyly, flattening your tongue under his tip and sucking hard until he clenched his eyes shut and raked his nails into your scalp roughly.
Going down again, you gagged around him and tears sprung to your eyes when he held you there. He was choking you, but you weren't thinking about air--all you could think about was how hard it was not to reflexively clamp down each time Melaina tweaked your clit just right, sending spasms through your entire body.
You were fighting hard to keep from going overboard, your stomach twisted up in knots so tight you felt compressed. Explosive, even. He was moaning above you, dragging your head up and down his length slowly, and there were shockwaves of vibrations in your core as Melaina hummed along with him.
Finally, as you took all of him again and squeezed his thigh with your nails digging in, Tom hissed and pulled you off of him. "On your back, now." he commanded, and Melaina jumped back just in time for you to hastily slide into position. "Fuck, need you so bad, darling."
His hands were hot as they slid up your thighs, spreading your legs apart until he could slip between them and crawl over your body. "Needed you last night, lovie, but you decided to ignore me like a brat." he growled, and you flinched as he dropped to his elbows over you suddenly, "Don't even deserve to feel me, you know that?"
"Please," you whined, "I'm sorry I ignored you, I'll never do it again."
Tom dragged his tip roughly through your folds, scowling at you when you bucked your hips into him, "Do that again and you'll go back in the chair."
You froze, and he hummed in approval before continuing his teasing. Up and down, up and down, up and down, he dragged himself over your entrance and clit until you were shaking with need. Each slow rock of his length through your folds was adding fuel to the fire raging within you, your eyes threatening to roll back from the surface level stimulation alone.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally eased into you slowly. You moaned breathlessly, clenching around him and fisting the sheets in a plea for him to just fuck you already. "Fucking love your cunt, darling," he groaned, eyes falling shut in bliss, "perfect little pussy, all for me. This all mine, lovie?"
"Yes, sir." you groaned, arching off the bed as he pushed deeper against you, "All yours."
He pulled back, dragging slowly against your walls until he slipped out of you entirely and left you feeling empty. But then he forced his way back in roughly, jolting you backward on the bed under the force of his thrust. Your lips opened in a silent yell, hands flying up to claw at his back desperately.
Tom's face dropped into your shoulder, mouthing open kisses into the skin that burned like fire. He picked up his pace with a steady, deep roll of his hips against yours that made you shiver all over. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, trapping him against you as you gripped his shoulders heavily.
Your eyes were clenched shut in pleasure as you felt him continue to push roughly against that spot deep inside, sending sparks through out your entire body. The coil in your belly had already been strung so tightly you'd feared you'd burst at the first moment of contact, but you were doing your best to fight it off. You wanted this moment, this feeling of him filling you to the brim, to last forever.
But, Tom shuddered above you and moaned into your ear, "Shit, 'm not gonna last, darling."
He pushed deeper into you with his next thrust, grinding your hips into the mattress as he put his weight behind it. You yelped and your hands left his back to find his face, pulling his lips down to yours in a feverish kiss. It was sloppy, all tongue and clashing teeth, but it matched the desperate, animalistic rhythm of his hips perfectly.
That coil inside you was sparking now, fizzling with pent up energy just begging to burst. "Please, please, please, let me cum, Tom." you begged, and he groaned as you said his name, "Please, Tommy!"
With a sharp snap of his hips, Tom pushed off the bed on one elbow and reached his hand down to the apex of your thighs. His fingers met your clit harshly, swirling rapid circles around your swollen bundle as he stared down at you like a starved man. "Say my name again, darling."
"Tom!"
His fingers moved faster, harder, deeper in time with his thrusts that pushed you to heights you'd never felt from him. His eyes were clenched shut and his lips pulled back in a grimace, jaw clenching as his curls slid all over his forehead in a sweaty mess. He looked beautiful like that--all messy and fucked out, desperate to reach that high that you were pushing him toward.
Your legs were shaking wildly, and your stomach was burning as your muscles began to contract. It was the buildup to the explosive release, and you cried out, "Gonna cum, Tommy, yes! You feel so--oh, fuck!"
Wailing, you clamped your legs around his waist and squeezed your eyes shut so tightly it hurt. The coil snapped and you shrieked, his tip ramming into your g-spot over and over as he fucked you through your high. It felt like you couldn't even breathe, couldn't think, couldn't anything anymore. All you could do was feel him inside you, pushing through your pulsing walls as his fingers continued to rub your clit like a madman.
"Fucking--fuck!" he gritted, hips faltering, "Love it when you say my name, (Y/N). Sounds so perfect coming from your pretty lips."
You were desperate to get him there, feeling the way he was shuddering with each thrust as his body protested the exertion. "Tom, please," you begged, feeling the coil in your belly tightening up again, "cum for me. Wanna feel you fill me up, Tommy."
He slammed into you harder than he had all night, making your pelvis ache but you saw white. The world faded away as you burst into the crescendo again, your throat burning as you cried out loudly. Just when you were about to tap out and push him away because it was all too much, he rolled into you deeply and collapsed onto your chest.
So high in your own climax, you barely felt his cock pulsing against your walls as you milked him of every last drop. It was the warmth, though, that brought you back down to earth. The deep, warmth that filled you up had you sighing and sucking in air desperately, blinking up at the ceiling as Tom breathed heavily into your neck.
The two of you laid there like that for awhile, fighting to catch your breathe as your hearts raced against each other's chests. It wasn't until your vision finally cleared and you could breathe a little more freely, though, that a thought popped into your head, "Where did Melaina go?"
Tom laughed, his chest rumbling against yours as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder with a tender kiss to the sweaty skin. "Mm, don't know. She probably left."
"Oh," you muttered, "I didn't notice."
You hoped he didn't notice how you smiled as he hummed back, "Neither did I, darling."
Curled up in Tom's bed, you shivered as his fingers traced lazy shapes into the bare skin of your thigh that was draped over his own. On his night stand sat two abandoned cups of tea, growing colder by the minute, but neither one of you was in any hurry to reach for them. You were content to just lay there in his embrace, soaking up his warmth.
This was what you'd grown to love the most over the past few months of hooking up with Tom. The sex was great, the orgasms mind blowing, but the time spent just enjoying each other's company afterwards was your favorite part. It felt nice to just be close to him, to feel connected to him in a more domestic sense.
"You know there's nothing to be jealous of, yeah?" he asked, suddenly, and you craned your neck back to look at him curiously. His cheeks were reddened slightly as he peered down at you with tender, timid eyes.
Sheepishly, you shrugged, "It's ridiculous, I know."
He frowned slightly, but the crease between his brows melted as you blinked up at him with wide eyes. "Nothing you feel is ridiculous, (Y/N)," he stated, "and it's okay to be jealous. You think I never felt shitty seeing you with any of the other guys you filmed with?"
The flush on his face deepened at his confession, but you grinned. He felt it too? "Really?" you asked, trying your best to keep from giving him total puppy dog eyes.
"Really." he repeated you, snorting when you grinned wider, "And, you don't need to be jealous of anyone. You're the only one who ends up right here in my bed, like this. Only one I want to be here, darling."
You buried your face into his chest with a flustered giggle, and he chuckled as his arms wrapped around you a little tighter. In a desperate need to keep things from getting too serious, still raw over everything you'd felt the past couple of days, you teased, "Mm, I'm only here for the tea--Tom!"
He dug his fingers into your ribs, fighting through your squeals and slaps as you tried to escape him. Easily, though, he got the upper hand and rolled until you were pinned beneath him. With twinkling eyes, a mixture of emotions you couldn't read, he taunted, "Admit it, (Y/N), you're in love with me."
In love with Tom? Your mind went blank as you stared up at him, but he just grinned down at you. There was a little flutter in your belly, and his eyes sparkled a brighter at your shiver. He knew. He knew the truth.
"Nah, it's definitely the tea--"
"Why, I oughta!"
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 37
💖 first time reader click here 💖
Five more chapters to go, guys. This is coming to an end 😭 I enjoyed writing it so, so much! In this chapter we have fluff. Literally only fluff and snark, because my babies have suffered enough. And the remainder is gonna be the same. Because fuck pain.
Coulson was mad. Outwardly, of course, he seemed as level-headed as ever, handing out orders and signing papers out left and right, but coming to sit within five feet of him seemed like the worst mistake I had recently made. His phone was ringing practically non-stop and he answered every call, sometimes speaking in different languages I didn't understand, sometimes in rapid-fire English that sounded like Morse code to me.
I'd never been sent to the principal's office but I imagine that's how it feels like. Finally, his shoulders sagged and the breath he took in left his lungs slowly, deflating his body into a tense ball of quiet fury.
"You and mister Brock ruined months worth of investigation and undercover work," The agent finally spoke. "But I can't even be mad at you properly. We've apprehended the main culprit, detained all of his followers except select few that Dr. Xavier took upon himself to handle," His words shocked me; not at all the scolding I was expecting. A deeper part of me was even afraid I'd be taken away and buried under so much red tape not even Tony's seemingly endless money and influence could have gotten me out. "I... Really don't know what more to say." Coulson folded his hands atop the desk, looking over me with a blank look.
"A thank you would be nice," I let my mouth run before the words even really registered in my brain, the cursed thing.
The agent chortled, "Perhaps, we really do owe you a solid one," Before standing up and walking over to the coffee machine in the far corner of his office. "Coffee?" He motioned to a pile of empty cups next to it. I nodded and he set to work. "The guys should be back in two hours, tops," He remarked off-handedly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. There was no way he had missed how my body relaxed into the uncomfortable office chair at the news. "Nobody is hurt except Rogers but I think he'd find how to hurt himself even on recon duty." The man laughed, bringing over two cups of dark, delicious, steamiy hot bean juice. Nhghhgg.
"Steve is a dumbass," I agreed amicably, blowing over the rim of the cup. The stone of coffee on it's own seemed to wake up my previously anxious, half-empty half-racing brain. The past twelve hours were full of urgency, the team being called in for assistance in mere minutes after my and Venom's return to the tower.
They barely had time to wipe their tears and shelf their worries before the suit-up call came, haste hugs and kisses being traded on their way to the quinjet. Coulson showed up not much later after that, a quinjet of his own and a stack of papers for Eddie to fill out, stern instructions for me to follow him and stay glued to his side at all times. I didn't need to ask: it was obvious there was a rat in SHIELD, again. Thankfully, the rat was discovered before they could come and try to increase their odds by doing something to me; I'd hid out in Coulson's office, crashing down into a strange, most likely Venom-induced sleep as footsteps raced past the door.
I'd woken up anxious and disoriented, the owner of the office pacing along the furthest wall and pointedly whispering into his cellphone. The rest was history.
"Your father called," The agent remarked, watching my reaction carefully. "Said to call him back whenever you can."
I was drained, beyond wrung out, and not just from my latest stunt as a parasitic symbiotic alien's host. The past couple of months were a nightmare, an anxiety-riddled, paranoia-spiced mess of a shit show. I was very much looking forward to breathing freely and enjoying my science without hiding my WIPs, enjoying my relationship (s) without fear of being abducted and sending my men into a panicked, destructive spiral.
My voice remained even as I carefully contemplated and spoke my next words. "He can go fuck himself. Him and that harpy of a woman," I sighed: disappointed in my parents, but not surprised. "I'm freshly out of fucks to give. I'm done."
Coulson, if he even was surprised, didn't show it. His expression remained neutral and supportive. "I understand you. There's enough basis for us to aid you in creating a new identity for you, if you'd like," He pushed a stack of papers towards me.
I chewed on my lip in contemplation. It would be handy, sure, I could be rid of the curse that became of my family name and my parents couldn't legally do anything at all to me; on the other side there was my name plastered on several inventions and projects I'd done over the years. In all my years, I was taught that my name is to be my business card.
The decision was obvious. "No, thank you," I looked at him, hoping to convey the sincerity. "I think I will be okay."
He smiled and went back to his paperwork, all but verbally dismissing me. As soon as I finished my coffee and washed the mug, the couch called to me once again and I curled up under the fleece blanket Coulson had thrown over me while I slept, alternating my attention between sneaking glances at his concentrated form and my cellphone and the few meager games it had. There was no signal and no wi-fi access on the Helicarrier. Security reasons, blah blah blah...
A knock sounded out, startling me out of my sluggish thoughts; one of Coulson's hands crawled down to one of the drawers on his right side where I assumed he had hidden a gun. "Come in," He called out, shooting me a pointed look. I sat up, alert.
"M'here to pick up - uh - a Baby," A tired but amused, familiar voice called out. Clint stepped into the room, still wearing his dirty and bloody uniform, and, as my eyes briefly scanned him, the archer appeared to be unhurt save for a few bruises here and there. His eyes landed on me immediately, visibly relieved.
"Waa," I deadpanned indignantly, raising my hands like a toddler would do when they wanted to be picked up. The only thing Clint was missing was a courier's ball cap.
"I assume the mission went smoothly?" Coulson asked, a soft grin and even softer eyes landing on our interaction.
Clint nodded affirmative, walking over and picking me up with ease, disregarding my shierk completely and stopping only when I poked him in the ear - closest appendage to me - in retaliation. His eyes were laughing and his tone was flat. "Caw caw, motherfucker," He announced to me flatly, waving goodbye to Coulson.
We passed more than a dozen agents giving us the biggest side-eye as I dangled over his shoulder, ass up in the air, fiddling with the numerous straps of his gear as Clint power-walked us to the Avengers quinjet. I'd even stuck out my tongue to some dude pointing a finger at us.
My family was already loaded into the vehicle, all in various stages of dirty, bloody and undressed. Coulson's words were true - only Steve sported a wide bandage over his shoulder, neck and head - one look at Bucky and I just knew the Captain would be regretting his stupidity in a few hours time. Even Stephen was there, looking unhurt but very annoyed and tired, as he hovered a few feet off the ground with Cloaky majestically swaying behind him.
"And what the fuck was that little performance for?" I asked once Clint deposited me in the very front row, between a dozing Bruce and a tinkering Tony.
"I had strict instructions from the Hulk," The archer grinned, pushing a few buttons on the dashboard of the vehicle. In seconds, we took off home.
"Oh, hi," Bruce must've heard his green counterpart being mentioned; his eyes cracked open just as I smiled at the scientist and reached over to brush his curly mop of hair out of his face. "M'yes, Hulk is demanding you do not set foot on the ground these days," Bruce was sleepy and warm, so soft when he kissed my hand, I felt my heart swell.
"Gonna spoil me rotten, you lot," I snorted, keeping the happy smile and the warm feeling as Stephen came back from the Astral world, opening his eyes and giving me a grin of his own.
"That's my job," Tony mumbled, still very occupied with a part of his suit. I turned around expecting a kiss; I had to stifle an ugly snort upon discovering one of the parts of his Iron Man suit got damaged and stuck, making a part of the chestplate render one of his arms temporarily immobile. Tony looked like a frustrated toddler building Legos.
"Someone get me a screwdriver and some pliers," I gently pried away the calloused fingers away from the jagged piece of metal, kissing Tony's cheek in the moments until Natasha handed me the required instruments. Tony was free, grimacing in discomfort as he stretched and rotated his arm, in little under ten minutes. "What happened to the nanosuit?" I asked, not remembering the last time I'd seen Tony in one of his older, clunkier creations.
"They had some sort of technopath mutant," He grumbled - I had discovered the source of his ire. "Turns out, Bruce snuck in my special anti-mutant suit I'd made ages ago. Nanosuit got destroyed in seconds and Hulk had to carry me back to the quinjet for a change of equipment," Despite his sour mood, Tony was visibly more relaxed than since the day I confessed I'd been drugged. "Brucie-bear, this is exactly why it remained a prototype."
"It's better to get stuck in a suit than to be a meat pancake on the sidewalk," Used to Tony's tantrums, Bruce merely blinked and continued eating the chocolate that he procured only God knew where.
I locked eyes with Stephen, both of us shaking our heads in almost identical, semi-fond semi-annoyed way. Ah, sweet sweet normalcy.
There were towers of pizza boxes as we arrived in the tower; a couple of agents got all but yeeted out by Tony, with little to no thank you as they had been the ones that arranged the food for us - still, I understood Tony's dislike of the super-secret organisation and merely paid the two for the pizza, politely waving goodbye as they side-eyed Tony with disdain.
Then, I had to tow both Clint and Thor as they attempted to begin eating, still wearing muddy bloody clothes - of course, I did not possess the physical strength required to handle two adult men, so I merely began a small lecture on parasites (Stephen gleefully joined in) and both of them scattered towards the showers like two spooked little first-graders.
I also used the brief moment of stagnation to hug Loki; these days he didn't freeze in surprise but rather warmly hugged me back, whispering something cheeky to me as I buried my face in his chest. Stephen was the one to cough extra-loudly to attempt to separate us - it was, once again, unanimously decided to have a family dinner and a cuddle pile straight after. Food coma had never sounded nicer.
"So, what'd Coulson say to you?" Clint asked curiously as we all settled in, freshly showered and those who needed it, re-bandaged. I was warm and toasty between Tony and Stephen, wearing the former's gym shorts and the latter's hoodie, Bruce's t-shirt underneath it. The scientist himself was drooling onto Tony's shoulder, somwhere between sleep and awareness, glasses askew.
"He basically thanked me and offered me a new identity," I shrugged, polishing off the last of my smoothie and handing the second bottle over to Loki. As usual, no food was wasted and I always had someone to finish my leftovers, especially since Bucky tended to think I could eat as much as him and kept trying to overfeed me like a foie gras goose.
"Congrats, you've been adopted," Natasha snorted from her place between Clint and Steve. Only the red of her hair was visible behind the man-bulk and the blankets.
"Uh," My response was, as always, deeply informative and astute.
"He likes to take in strays," Clint full-belly laughed. "Me at first, then Natasha. He's got a soft spot for Tony and Bucky but he won't admit it."
My eyebrows rose. "That's... That's my job?" I remembered the whole Venom/Eddie situation, our rogue wizard. Coulson was aiming for my place- the audacity! "He can't just do that!"
"And you can?" Stephen's finger booped my nose, making me huff and cuddle up to Tony, turning my butt towards the sorcerer to show him exactly what I thought about his observations. He only laughed harder. "Sounds like someone's a little jealous."
"Okay, boomer," I rolled my eyes. Stephen Strange, a supreme troll is what he is.
"But that's why you love me," He continued as others around us groaned and snorted, too used to us teasing each other about our age difference and my old man kink. Whatever, I got to bang my hot old men anyways.
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Mistletoe- What is something you want in a relationship?
Candles Burn a Hole in the Floor || Accepting
She sets her book aside after tucking the bookmark to hold her place. It is a serious one, made of metal with a butterfly etched into it, and in place of a tassel there is a bend of the steel that holds a few beads of delicate purple hue. Perfect for fidgeting with even when she's engulfed in the story, living a life far richer than the one she engages in every day. There's a certain kind of softness to her expression. One that suggests that she heard the question posed of her in the otherwise quiet stillness of the room. The hearth blazes with a cheery glow. The dogs are scattered around in various states of repose while outside the famous London rain pours, though a bit unseasonably. From Ron's word to her own experience, October seemed to be wettest here but tonight the gloom feels freshly drawn from the cinema. She takes a breath and with it comes the scent of tea, and she almost wonders how long the cup he'd poured her had been sitting there. She half-expects it to be icy by the time she reaches for it to occupy her hands but is pleasantly surprised to find it still piping enough that her fingers can leech heat from the cup itself. She doesn't, however, lift her gaze to meet his as she contemplates the question, letting the hot tea and honey lubricate her throat. She doesn't want to sound rusty, or to choke herself on the words because this is one of those important questions that you only ever get one chance to answer the right way. When she was little she would have said she wanted to find someone who was like her brother, her real life Man in the Black Mask, Westley. Because when you are young, you can believe in the purity of True Love and how something as simple as a kiss can encompass everything in the world, and be perfect. And though she couldn’t know it then, he sacrificed so much to shelter her, to keep her safe. He was her larger than life Superman. One who cast a very long shadow and set an impossibly high bar that mere mortals couldn’t really compete with. And then, like her mother, and so many other people, he’d abandoned her to this life. When she was older, Beth had come to understand that faery-tales are important not because of the promises they made but because they made the littlest of white lies palatable, made the larger life-altering ones capable of being chewed into smaller, easier to swallow pieces. Things like faith and hope. Things like love, fidelity. Of course if he wanted to, Ron could point out that she hardly ever eats and usually no more than a bird might subsist on. Her teeth are sharp enough, she simply hasn’t the appetite. Faery-tales also teach never to glut yourself on anything. Now, she doesn’t really know. She draws her feet up onto the seat and hugs her knees to her chest. Props her chin on them and takes a sobering breath. “Would ya be upset,” she begins with a baited question that is largely rhetorical, “...f’I said...I don’ really know? I feel like I should say some kine wise or mebbe funny. Make it seem like easiest t’ing in da world, but it isn’t. Mebbe I don’ know wha’ I should be lookin’ for, or what dere really is t’ be had. Once I might mebbe say...I don’ wanna be lonely. But if dat was really it, I could jus’ get one pet. I might mebbe say... love. But wha’s da difference between a relationship an’ a friendship? I got plen’y friends. Or a’ least people who would say dey are.” Her mouth twists to the side a moment. “Mebbe beddah you tell me da kine ya found in yours. Help me sort t’rough possibilities, because faery stories...don’ really live up to da real world, yeah?”
#mahalo!Pumpkin! <3333#A Fighter By His Trade|Ron Kray#Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters|Ron and Beth#London Calling|Legend AU#Cedra Court
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