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#Kate really means well
hopepaigeturner · 2 years
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Benophie: "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"
Here it is! The final request from anon (other than part 2 of my Bhaji and Burrito one-shot if anyone still wants it--still haven't settled on a name yet--any ideas?).
5. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"
Benedict leant against the wall, eyes pinned on Sophie Beckett laughing on the far side of the tent, her green bridesmaid dress making her look like a fairytale dryad.
They had met at Kate and Anthony’s engagement party last year. On that night she had worn a shimmering silver dress and stayed by one another the entire night As the bells chimed midnight they had shared a kiss on the terrace like giddy teenage lovers.
Then followed Bridgerton family brunch where Kate took Benedict aside and told him, in no uncertain terms, that Sophie was off-limits so they could avoid messy wedding drama between the maid of honour and best man. Benedict had wished to scoff until Kate added that Sophie had recently recovered from some severe ‘heartbreak’ and Benedict had remembered Antony rushing out one night because Kate’s best friend needed to be ‘rescued’. So reluctantly he had agreed.
But that Friday he had been invited to the pub as a group of four and spent the entire evening talking and laughing with Sophie. That night had ended with Sophie pushing him up against the wall outside the toilets and kissing him until he could barely remember his own name; followed by a tense, discreet exit to rendezvous at Sophie’s flat.
And then it sort of…continued; the pair hooking up whenever he flew in from a photo shoot or she returned from a book tour, their conflicting schedules never allowing anything permanent to take root; both of them pretending that each goodbye was easier, not torturously harder, than the one before; both of them ignoring the spike of jealousy when the other posted a picture with someone—after all their agreement had never been exclusive.
And then the wedding and all its rigmarole had rolled around; the family parties; the joint hen and stag do; afternoons of calming down the bride and groom; running errands together or cooking together.
Now Benedict wanted more, so much more than confessions and connection during pillow talk or afterglow beatifications. He selfishly wanted every part of her and started rehearsing love declarations in his mind.
Then, at the rehearsal dinner her ‘date’ had waltzed through the door and into her arms.
Who on earth was Theo Sharpe?
Sophie had made no mention of him in the last few weeks, not even on the nights when she would moan Benedict’s name in the sweetest cadences.
But there she was, an arm linked around his as they talked to his sister, Eloise. He and Eloise seemed to be energetically conversing while Sophie merely looked on with an amused smile. But Benedict had seen all the little things throughout the day, such as Kate’s comment about them being a ‘cute couple’. Also how she had held his pinky whenever she could, or when she had flushed prettily at the table at the pertinent questions.
Benedict could barely take it, sipping his wine a lot faster than usual, constantly watching the couple—gosh, just the word made him shiver. And worst of all—Theo had not asked Sophie to dance. Not even when Ella Fitgerald’s mellow voice rang out around the ballroom. He noticed Sophie looking around expectantly, smiling softly at her favourite song—the same song she would hum while running her fingers through his hair before drifting off to sleep. Theo Sharpe did not even seem to see Sophie’s reaction.
Benedict put down his glass and strode over to her.
“I believe it is customary for the bridesmaid and best man to dance?” he announced without preamble. The trio turned to him.
“I have never heard of such a rule,” Eloise teased, a glint in her eye. “Have you Theo?”
“Uh—I do not think I have –I cannot be sure these things—well, they—” Benedict’s eyes zeroed in on Sophie’s pinkie wrapping around Theo’s.
“Well, it is. Sophie?”
Sophie looked to Theo; Theo nodded. Benedict bristled.
Dream a little dream of me...
Benedict pulled Sophie into his arms and it just felt right, the same feeling he had on that terrace, or whenever she greeted him in the airport, or whenever he woke with her in his arms. Sophie just felt right as they swayed while Louis Jordan’s voice joined with Ella’s:
Stars fading but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss…
Benedict pulled her closer.
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear Just saying this…
“You know that was dreadfully rude,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Practically dragging me away from Theo.”
“This is your favourite song.”
“Yes.”
“And he had made no inclination to dance with you—anyone who knows you knows the significance of this song.”
The only voice of love that would accompany her as she worked on her hands and knees. A solace from the sharp words and bruises.
“They do,” she replied quietly. “Yes.”
Dream little dream of me...
“So, I had to dance with you—he wasn’t going to.”
“He’s a little nervous,” Sophie replied, and it irked him that she defended him so fiercely.
“Yes, I saw you holding his hand.”
“He gets anxiety, this is not necessarily his scene.”
“Well, he might be right about that—I’ve never seen him.”
“Why would you? It’s none of your business.”
“Really? Was it not my business the other night in bed? Or in the shower? Or over your vanity?”
“Stop it,” Sophie blushed.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just a little offended that over these last weeks, when you’ve practically spent every moment of every day with me, you never told me you had a boyfriend.”
“He’s not—” She halted, then cocked her head. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”
“Frustrated certainly—”
“You are! You are jealous.” Her eyes widened.
“Well, yes, I suppose I am—happy?” Benedict shot back.
“But why…why would you be jealous?”
Benedict heart snapped like a glowstick, his emotions flooding through him.
“Because I’m head over heels in love with you and have been for months. And I hate that we have had to sneak around when I want to spend the entire day holding your hand and kissing you and dancing with you—"
“Ben—"
“—and I should not be mad because it’s not as if I can be the man you deserve to be with. I don’t have a stable job or life, and you deserve that stability after all the heartbreak from your stepmother. I’m just a wayward second son with no merits other than some pretty pictures and my last name—”
“Benedict!”
Sophie’s heel came down on his toe.
“Ow!”
“Listen to me,” she hissed, “Theo’s my date.”
“I know.” He bit out.
“But he’s not my boyfriend—he’s my publisher.”
“What?”
“He’s my publisher. He’s self-made so all this high society stuff is really intimidating and he’s been on the edge of a panic attack the entire day. I invited him months ago when I felt particularly insecure, because you had all these beautiful, glamorous models around you and I’m the shameful bastard child who couldn’t even get her father to look at her, so how on earth could I keep your affection—”
Benedict kissed her, right there in the middle of the dancefloor, even though the song had ended.
Time slowed, noise muted, faded, overwhelmed by a sense of perfection.
Blissful serenity.
When they broke apart, Benedict kept her close so she could read the sincerity in his eyes.
“You’ve had my affection from the very moment we met, from our very first kiss and every moment after. No other woman has touched my lips or my heart since that moonlit night, because your mere scent, your mere breath, your mere presence sends my heart thundering and my mind spinning. You deserve to be loved Sophie, you are worthy of being loved and I am so sorry that I haven’t managed to convince you of that fact. But I love you. I just…I love you.”
Her eyes watered as she cupped his face with her hands.
“You are so much more than a second son Benedict—you are the man I love. The man who inspires my stories, my soul and my heart with his sincerity and kindness and talent.” She kissed him softly. “And if you must know, I mainly brought Theo so I could introduce him to Eloise.”
Benedict chuckled, the tenseness flowing out of his body.
“So, he shall not be returning to your room.”
“No, he wasn’t the guy I wished would return with me tonight.”
“Oh really—and who would that be?”
“Possibly my real boyfriend.”
Benedict’s heart stuttered.
“Are you sure?”
Sophie grinned.
“Absolutely—if that is—that is what you want.”
Benedict grinned back, before scooping her into his arms.
“Announcement!” he called, and the wedding party turned, but Benedict didn’t register any of their faces. “I would like to introduce you all to my girlfriend Sophie Beckett who I am head over heels in love with; body, heart and soul.”
“Benedict!” she gasped but her eyes shone brilliantly bright and full of love, love directed at him.
He had to have her.
“Thank you for listening—good night!” he called, and a couple choruses rose in response.
Then he carried her out of the room.
It was not until they had located Benedict’s bedroom door when Sophie cried,
“Ben, wait! I didn’t check in on Theo!”
Benedict grinned wolfishly.
“Trust me, he’s a clever boy he’ll work out where we’re going.”
*~*~*~*
Ngl, really enjoyed this one and could see me doing a couple drabbles if people want more.
Thanks for all the inspiration 🥰 🥰 
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evansbby · 8 months
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yall I read this book when I was like 12-13 and it was a “sweet valley high senior year” book and yesterday I found it again and reread the whole thing in 3 hours and honestly??? THIS BOOK IS WILD LIKE IT SAYS FOR AGES 12+ BUT IT IS SOOOOOO WILD OMFG!!!
I kinda wanna do a review on it 😭😭😭 like I think I understand why I write fanfics the way I do… it’s bc I was reading these types of books when I was young lmfaooo
I would love to do a review on it here if anyone would be interested in reading? Like it would be a fun, full of pictures type review post where I summarise this wild af book YOU GUYS PLS WOULD U BE INTERESTED
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kate-bishops-waifu · 3 months
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Do you think she'll like me If I dress like a dead girl?
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New ish dress, with an old skirt, that I'm excited about.
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dragongeek1 · 2 years
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Midnight Mass Netflix is so fucking good oh my god, the show runners went “hey you know what’s got weird fucking text and subtext about blood and flesh? The Bible” and RAN WITH IT and knew exactly where to go with it, this is probably one of the best pieces of vampire media I’ve seen
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My brain came up with this while I was half asleep, and then I proceeded to promptly forget about it for the seventy-two some-odd hours. But I remembered tonight! So here you go:
Sophie Assigns the "Good" MBS Humans to the Fellowship of the Ring
I just thought the other day, "Hey, four kids plus four adults and one Miss Perumal makes nine! Guess what other book I enjoy has an initial grouping of nine protagonists?" And then the rest of this followed
Of course, I made the Hobbits the kids. It just worked really well with the route I was going.
Frodo - Constance. They both have a lot on their shoulders, and whether they like it or not they are instrumental in the success of their friends
Sam - Kate. I waffled a bit on Sam, but I think Kate fits best here. She has her bucket and is very prepared, and she also goes on solo missions with/carries Constance a lot.
This means the boys are Merry and Pippin!
Merry - Reynie. If I'm remembering right, Merry is a little older than Pippin, and tends to look out for him. I know they're cousins in the books, but I really like the idea of them as a brother-like duo that works together a lot.
Pippin - Sticky. Slightly less life experience than the others his age, but still doing his best! Also very close with his friends and gets put in a position of power under a Not Great Guy (Denethor/Curtain) and learns to break away from him and look out for the people he loves.
Okay. So. I know that initially it seems like Mr. B should be Gandalf. But hear me out.
Gandalf - Milligan. He's there sometimes, sometimes he's off doing other stuff that is still vital to the mission but not immediately visible! He jumps off things (Granted, Gandalf has the Eagles to help him), and has that kind of general colour scheme. He advises the kids both individually and as a group.
Gimli - Number Two. I don't even know. I just felt this one immediately. She's really intense and strong and a good fighter, but sometimes she needs someone to tell her to calm down and loosen up a bit.
Legolas - Rhonda. Also felt this one as soon as I thought about it. Something about Rhonda having slightly better people skills and the general charisma of an elf, but she's still super close with Number Two and they make fun little competitions out of working together.
Boromir - Nicholas. Now. This gave me a lot of trouble, but I think it works because this is the character he would give himself. The one with a brother, who gets "favoured", but ultimately falls prey to his weakness. He genuinely wants to help the kids, but in the end he puts them in danger. This does not mean Curtain is Faramir. We're not even getting into that can of worms here.
And we all know what this means!!
Aragorn - Miss Perumal. I love this one, even though it kind of happened by process of elimination. Her "bit of a puzzler" traits as a ranger who can track people all over the place is so good. Also, this means that she'd get a girls team up with Rhonda and Number Two as the Three Hunters! And, come on. I really want to give her a cool sword.
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asia kate dillon amongst group pics of the cast of the mysteries at the flea theater
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buckthefutcher · 1 year
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It’s a four day weekend and I’m genuinely excited to have time to actually write some concrete yellowjackets meta down around yellowjackets v. lost and how looking at lost can possibly give us an idea of directions the show will take I’m pumped (I was obsessed with lost between the ages of 10 & 13 and spent all my free time on fan sites this has lain dormant within me for a decade!!!)
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abigailspinach · 2 months
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TPM: Balls to the Walz
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From 1:10ish
I think Kelly would have been good. I think she had kind of a lot of wealth to choose from. But I was I was rooting for Walz, and I'm glad that she kind of that she went there in the end. And then she got to make a decision based on what she wanted to do because, like, I think we have this feeling that if you're in this position, if you're high up in politics and you want to be president, then getting the opportunity is like a huge, you know, it's a great dream come true.
Right? But this is never going to be the conditions under what she would have wanted to make her bid for president.
Like she's got this crazy, truncated time to make the case.
Like if she wins, it's going to be an incredible accomplishment that she got her campaign up and running and made an impression in this really short time that she was able to shed the weight of the, you know, fair or not, of the Biden candidacy and the doldrums that were surrounding that and, and re-energized the party. And not only that, you know, became the first woman, the first black woman, the first South Asian woman to ever become president to do all that. I mean, that's so difficult.
It's so difficult. And the fact that she's doing well so far is just it's astounding. but none of this was her choice, right?
Like, she kind of had to wait for Biden to bow out and to give her this less than ideal condition to run in knowing that if she loses, she is putting the next woman president farther down the line. Because if Clinton loses and she loses, no, no matter the difficulties, that will be the conclusion that it is just too risky to run a woman.
So she's got all this going on, and I just think it's nice that she, like, got the opportunity to kind of pick a running mate that not only has these advantages to her ticket, but also that she like, really likes because this is an uphill battle for her. So it's a good that her kind of number one teammate seems to be just someone that she genuinely gets along with well and thinks is like a nice, fun guy to kind of wage war alongside.
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incorrectbatfam · 3 months
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What does Tim say when people ask about his spleen?
Damian: I am updating my blackmail records. Tell me what happened to your spleen in its full hilarity.
Tim: I donated it to a sickly orphan.
Damian: You win this round.
———————
Tim: I have to be careful, I lost my spleen.
Carrie: How?
Tim: Aliens.
———————
Tim: I'm zero percent spleen and fifty-nine percent pizza sauce.
Helena: Zero percent spleen?
Tim: Yep. On the bright side, they named a disease after me.
———————
Luke: I've designed nanotech vitals trackers to be implanted on our spleens.
Tim: Oh, no thanks. I don't have one.
Luke: You don't have a spleen?
Tim: It wasn't paying rent so I evicted it. Lazy freeloader.
———————
Barbara: Why does your chart say you're missing a spleen?
Tim: I made a deal with the devil but I had a discount code so instead of my soul I just needed to sell a non-essential organ.
———————
Steph: What happened to your spleen? Are you okay?
Tim: I'm fine. It's taking an extended gap year.
———————
Harper: So... can I ask about your spleen?
Tim: Yeah, don't worry. I was part of a failed science experiment.
Cullen: What'd they do?
Tim: They injected me with a serum that was supposed to make me indestructible. But instead all I got were a spleen removal and chronic insomnia. And a free T-shirt.
Cullen:
Harper:
Cullen: Was it a nice shirt?
———————
Dick: What do you mean you don't have a spleen?!?
Tim: It was confiscated by airport security.
———————
Tim: Happy Pride! My spleen finally came out of the closet. And by closet I mean my body.
Kate: Diversity win.
———————
Tim and Jason: *arguing*
Jason: At least I still have my spleen!
Tim: It's genetic!
Jason: Sucks to be you.
Tim: We have the same dad. It could happen to you too.
Jason, scoffing: Whatever.
Jason, internally: Oh shit, he's right. I need to see Leslie.
———————
Tim and Bette: *sparring*
Bette: *hits Tim*
Tim: Ow. Time out. That was my spleenhole.
Bette: ...How?
Tim: It took a trip to the Titanic in a soup can with a Playstation controller.
———————
Duke: Since when did you have that scar?
Tim: Since losing my spleen last year.
Duke: How do you lose a spleen?
Tim: You forget to cherish it.
———————
Cass: ?
Tim: I digested it.
———————
Selina: You know I have to tell Bruce about this.
Tim: Okay, fine.
Tim: I had to get it removed as a kid after falling into a well of bats.
———————
Bruce: Tell me what happened to your spleen so Alfred and Leslie can give you the proper treatment.
Tim: What do you mean?
Bruce: Everyone's been telling me you don't have it.
Tim: Well, I do, so...
Bruce: Alright, I'll have a talk with them about bad taste pranks.
———————
Alfred: You can't keep the truth from me, Master Tim.
Tim: Assassins stole it.
Alfred: I wasn't born yesterday. Now what really happened?
Tim: ...
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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Little Angel
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 
"Nowhere." 
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 
"I'm okay." 
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 
You'd never felt like this before. 
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 
"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 
"Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 
"No, not until you tell me why you left." 
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  
10K notes · View notes
angelicsoka · 2 months
Text
DISAPPROVAL, t. owens
word count | 1.6k
pairings | tyler owens x fem!storm chaser!reader
summary | in which javi disapproves of his sister’s relationship
warnings | contains spoilers for the movie!! mentions of death, tornadoes, and panic attacks. brother-sister fighting, slight angst. one use of ‘y/n’. not proofread. lowercase intended. 
a/n | i literally can’t stop thinking about this movie. tyler owens x javi’s sister has me in a choke hold
you had never been the type to run from your fears, not now and definitely not five years ago. you used to storm chase with kate carter and your brother, javi, as well as three other of your friends. the six of you, led by kate, had come together to see if it was really possible to reduce the intensity of a tornado. you knew that the experiment would be dangerous, but it had never fully occurred to you that you or anyone else could die. that was a mistake you swore you would never make again. 
five years had passed and you still were waking up, sweating and shaking from the horrid night where you lost three of your closest friends. you shakily tore the covers from your body, walking quietly to the bathroom so as to not wake the sleeping body still in bed. you closed the door to the bathroom before turning on the light. you turned the sink on, splashing water on your face as a sigh escaped your mouth. you gripped the sides of the sink, attempting to center yourself. “fuck.”
“babe, you in there?” you jumped when tyler knocked on the door, your breathing quickening once more. “babe?” tyler turned the door knob, pushing it up to see you slowly sliding down the wall as you began to hyperventilate. he rushed to your side, which wasn't far in the cramped bathroom. he helped you to the floor, sitting in front of you. “hey, hey, let's just sit down. just breathe with me, okay?” you nodded, following tyler in his exaggerated breathing, feeling as your heart rate began to slow down. “you’re okay, you’re safe.” you nodded, finally noticing the tears streaming down your face.
“sorry, ty, i didn’t mean to wake you.” you apologized through sniffles, wiping at your nose. 
“you didn’t wake me. plus, i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you still felt guilty about it, about him constantly dealing with your nightmares and panic attacks. you felt guilty that you still pushed yourself to storm chase even though you are terrified of losing the ones you love most. you knew you shouldn’t push that guilt or fear away, but there was another part of you that just wanted to help people. “why don’t we go get some breakfast?” tyler helped you to your feet, the two of you trudging over to the diner across from the motel. 
breakfast had been mostly silent, tyler trying to start a conversation but you were too stuck in your head. your knee anxiously bounced as you realized you would be heading to oklahoma, and that you were more than likely to run into your brother javi. you had talked to javi a lot over the phone, but it had been at least a year since you had last seen him in person. he’d been begging you for a few weeks now to leave tyler and the wranglers behind and to join his crew and help with a new tornado scanning system. you knew javi just wanted to help people, but the people funding his projects did not have the same interests at heart. “you ready?” you looked, not hardly having touched your food, accepting tyler’s extended hand. “boone’s getting pretty antsy about leavin’. dude’s been blowing up my phone for like the last thirty minutes.” you giggled when tyler showed you his phone with nearly fifty texts from boone.
“i’m surprised he’s even up, let alone ready to hit the road.” tyler tossed an arm over your shoulders, placing a delicate kiss on your temple as you walked back to the motel.
“yeah, well, best not to keep the man waiting.” tyler went to grab your stuff from the motel room before checking out, leaving you to rig up the gps. 
“boone! you ridin’ with us?” you shouted over to boone who was talking with dexter, dani, and lily. “we’ve got a seat open for you as well, ben.” you smiled to the journalist, who thought you to be the only sane one of the group. ben smiled at you, his body language showing he was clearly uneasy. “don’t worry, the ride to oklahoma shouldn’t be too bad.”
“it's not that ride that i’m worried about.” before you could question him, boone hopped in beside him, tyler entering the driver’s seat not a moment later. 
“let’s ride!” boone whooped, tyler tearing out of the parking lot. you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to be hyped up like your boyfriend and friend, too anxious about seeing your brother. he had already disapproved of you riding with the wranglers, you couldn’t imagine how he’d react when he found out you were dating tyler owens of all people.
at some point during the ride, you had fallen asleep only to be startled awake by boone, camera in hand as he yelled out the truck. “sorry, babe.” tyler quietly apologized to you, squeezing your hand. you squinted out the window, your stomach dropping at the sight of javi and kate, stood side by side. all the shouting and cheering seemed to be muted when your eyes locked with javi’s. even though you were nervous, the sight of your big brother brought a soft smile to your face. 
tyler put the truck in park, the crowd surrounding them. you pushed the door open, hopping down as tyler got the crowd chanting. boone was walking around, filming, while dani, lily, and dexter began to sell the merchandise. you stood off to the side, watching tyler do his thing, a smile gracing your lips. you looked around, catching kate’s eye, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her friend. she walked over to you, engulfing you in a hug before you had time to say anything. “kate! i wasn’t expecting to see you here!” you laughed, gripping kate tightly. 
“i didn’t realize you were still chasing, i thought you would at least be riding with javi.” you tensed slightly at your brother’s name, pulling back from kate’s arms. 
“uh, yeah, i’ve just decided to ride with the wranglers this season.” your tenseness didn’t go unnoticed by kate, but before she could ask you anything your attention was brought to your brother waltzing over. “javi!” your nerves dissipated when javi threw his arms around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
“i’ve missed you, sis.” you let out a sigh, trying not to let the tears well in your eyes.
“i’ve missed you too, javi.” you pulled back, now seeing your crew watching you. the crowd had mostly left, and the sight of you hugging a man that wasn’t tyler had them concerned. “why don’t you come meet my crew?” you knew javi had no interest in meeting your crew, but you wanted him to see they weren’t just daredevils with a need for a thrill. “hey, guys, i want you to meet my brother, javi, and my good friend, kate!” everyone but boone and tyler had come to meet them. “javi, kate, meet dexter, lily, and dani! oh, and ben! he’s a london journalist writing a piece on american storm chasing.” you pointed to each member, getting soft ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’. 
“nice to meet you guys!” kate smiled, javi not saying anything. you felt a pang in your heart when javi didn’t seem to take the people you considered to be some of your closest friends. 
“well, who do we have here?” you turned to see tyler and boone walking toward you, a large smile breaking out on your face. “you must be javi, and… kate, right?” kate nodded, shaking tyler’s hand.
“kate, javi, this is boone, and this is tyler owens.” tyler walked to your side, slinging an arm loosely around your shoulder while boone waved, going to put the camera back into the truck. “nice to meet you both.” he tipped his hat to the two. you watched javi closely, he practically had steam coming out his ears at the sight of tyler’s arms around your shoulder. javi had always been overprotective, and you wished he would realize you can hold your own. “we’re headin’ out in a few, ‘kay?” you nodded, tyler pressing a kiss to your temple before jogging over to boone. you looked back to javi who was red in the face, and kate who was clearly shocked.
“javi–” you started, javi pulling you to a quiet spot away from everyone else.
“really? tyler owens?” he spat out tyler’s name like it was venom. “c’mon y/n, he’s an idiot who drives into tornadoes! he doesn’t give a shit about anyone, especially those affected by said tornadoes!” tears welled in your eyes, anger bottling up. 
“oh, and you do? javi! your investors don’t give any shits about these people! they only care about the money! and you, you’re helping them by getting this data!” you wiped at the tears that spilled over, “we help people, javi! we sell the merch to pay for the supplies, and the revenue we make off the streams and videos go to families in need. we just don’t show that part on the internet.” it seemed to dawn on javi that you would have never ridden with the wranglers for as long as you had if you weren’t helping people. “tyler treats me well, and maybe you’d have seen that if you weren't so busy making assumptions about him.” you spat at him before turning on your heel, walking toward the truck, actively ignoring javi’s shouting. 
“you okay?” tyler asked, noticing your rosy cheeks. “want me to beat his ass?” you glared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. tyler was mostly all bark and no bite.
“no, he just needs time.” you reached up, kissing tyler before taking his hand in yours and walking back to the truck. javi watched as tyler opened your door and helped you in, watching tyler stare lovingly at you. and javi knew that he had fucked up.
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The Barbie Movie.
A small, non-comprehensive list of things that stood out to me (spoilers? Kind of?)
The soundtrack
All the jokes that played off of what it was actually like to play with barbies (the pool & ocean being flat, the cups having no drinks in them, the shower having no water, etc.
TRANS BARBIE
The choreography
The "I Am Kenough" tie-dye sweater
Barbies of many shapes and sizes! All very beautiful!
THE ENDING, OH MA LORD. Both the way the story concluded really beautifully, but also the ending joke that no one was prepared for—
Just... everything about Ryan Gosling's performance
Kate McKinnon playing the deranged, "ugly" Barbie
In the same vein, that movie would NOT have been complete without representing the kids who played with their dolls "too hard" (cutting their hair, bending them in weird ways, etc.)
Acknowledging that Barbie did in fact mean a lot to some girls. This movie was geared towards everyone, whether you grew up loving Barbie or hating her.
The mom and her daughter
The fact that when Barbie was starting to become "defective" and/or when she was in the real world, you could start to see her ""flaws"". Like I noticed in some scenes her eyebrows were unplucked and no longer perfectly sculpted, or her skin no longer perfectly smooth with foundation.
It was clear that SO much thought and research was put into this. I couldn't believe how many references there were to specific clothing items, certain playsets, etc.
The fact that Barbie and Ken DIDN'T end up together, and that Barbie DIDN'T indulge Ken in his flirtations (is that a word?) even once
THE FACT THAT I WAS SO CLOSE TO ACTUAL TEARS LIKE SEVEN TIMES???? LIKE WHAT????
The weird dark humor coming out of nowhere
The fact that Barbie never once looked at the human women (who were "imperfect" in comparison to her) with disgust
......the moment between her and the woman on the bench 😭😭😭
The mom's rant about how hard it is being a woman (esp a mother) and how you can never win 🙌🙏
The misogyny in the Real World was so well done. It wasn't overexaggated or over the top it was just NORMAL EVERYDAY LIFE
THE JOKE ABOUT HAVING A MAN SIT YOU DOWN TO TALK ABOUT THE GODFATHER ASDJGKDLW
The moment where I went "OH so THAT'S where the mugshot memes came from"
Ruth Handler <3
The fact that everyone came to the theater dressed either in pink or Barbie-like attire :)
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genderkoolaid · 1 year
Text
Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.
— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive
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girlokwhatever · 3 months
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okokokok soooooooo bringing it back to battle of the blondes. let’s set the scene shall we? there’s a wnba event where all three are present and they’ve all interacted with reader separately(reader could be apart of the event or a media reporter). everyone’s blonde big 3 are raving about reader to each other (without realize it’s the same person) and when they find out they’re all talking about reader…..the battle begins (def might have to be a mini series but fs has potential)
thoughts? or prayers ig?
-🫧
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ battle of the blondes,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader, emily engstler x fem!reader, kate martin x fem!reader
*just gonna call reader peach bc i don’t want to make an oc, its used like twice for plot purposes.*
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oh you’ve really done it now.
you’re attending a WNBA event, something pivotal that would launch your career to the next level if it went well, and you might ruin it for yourself just by the way you’re ogling some of the women.
three women in particular.
you really needed this to go well. like, really needed it. you were planning on becoming a social media manager for one of a few teams you’ve spoken to and you were using tonight to prove yourself. it’d been going really well and you captured such great content for a few different teams but as soon as you saw them, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. just looking at them made you nervous.
kate martin was the first one to approach you, smile wide with a toothy grin that made you blush. she was nervous.
she spotted you as soon as she walked into the space, easily recognizing you from some of the work you’ve done with the aces. she even heard talk that you’d be the new content manager, something she could only pray was true.
she found her way to you quickly. but as soon as you were within arms length and already smiling at her, she realized she had no idea what she was going to say to you. she had no plan, no cheesy pick-up line, and she definitely had zero chill.
“hi kate! you wanna film some content?”
yes. but not in the way you were talking about.
“i mean, should i? i don’t know, i just saw you and wanted to say hey.” oh god, she was definitely sweating through her undershirt.
“oh okay, well it’s good to see you. how’ve you been?”
kate moves closer to you now, leaning down slightly as you talk so she can hear you better. it’s so she can hear you, not because she wants to be as close to you as possible. definitely not. that’s why when her hand hovers over your spine, gently pressing into you it’s not a big deal because she just can’t hear you.
“oh y’know, i’ve been good. i haven’t seen you at any practices recently. i’ve missed you!” she’s saying it with a friendly tone, leaning down and fanning her breath over your ear. her words immediately make you blush, a silly smile spreading on your face. she never fails to flatter you.
“aw really? i’ve missed you too money martin.”
the blonde laughs and you physically feel it. it isn’t until her body shakes your own that you realized you’re leaning into one another. it immediately makes you freeze, eyes scanning the room for disapproving glances because you need to be on your best, most professional behavior.
you don’t find what you’re looking for, extremely thankful that everyone else’s attention is elsewhere. you push away from kate slightly, turning to stand in front of her. her hand reluctantly drops from your spine but her smile never falters because at least you’re still here.
“so.. i’ve heard some rumors you might be the new media manager for the aces?”
“oh yeah, well, i don’t know. i’ve been seeing a couple teams recently.”
“oh?” oh. it’s definitely not kate’s favorite news. she felt like she really bonded with you and she wanted to have you around more, but the lack of confirmation was a little disheartening. you were so talented; all of your photos looked amazing and everyone loved them. plus, you were a sight for sore eyes. really though, kate looked at you like you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. but that’s because you were.
“are you jealous that other teams get my attention too?” you joke, poking your finger on her shoulder gently.
kate’s blushing uncontrollably, turning the same shade as her red suit. she feels like her body might be on fire simply because of your playful teasing. she’s so fucking whipped.
“oh, i- i mean, no, of course not. like you’re great so y’know, i’ll miss you and stuff. yeah.” kate curses herself for stumbling over her words, red cheeks turning crimson. you laugh it off though, smiling that big smile you’re known so well for.
“i’m just messing with you kate. i still don’t know where i’ll end up, wish i could tell you.”
she’s about to say something else, maybe compliment your pretty dress or the way your hair is done but she can’t because someone is calling her name. she pretends like she can’t hear it and continues looking at you, but you’re already looking in the direction of the voice calling out to the blonde. kate internally groans, closing her eyes to roll them in annoyance.
“well, i’ll see you around katie. it was really nice getting to talk to you.”
katie. were you giving her a nickname? the simple thought erupts butterflies in her stomach like she’s never felt before. you make her feel like a love-struck teenager again.
“yeah, yeah. i’ll see ya.” she runs her hand down your arm, gently squeezing once she reaches your palm. it feels wildly intimate for your surface level friendship but kate wants you to know. she needs you to. she can’t even help herself anymore, looking back to smile at you as she disappears into the crowd.
you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re at a work event, not a tinder date. a few more people approach you after that and vice-versa for some media photos and videos. you take pictures of breathtaking outfits, film funny videos and short interviews, and mingle with team management and owners.
you’re in the middle of conversation with a new york liberty media manager when you feel a familiar presence behind you, a gentle hand gliding over the small of your back.
emily engstler smiled at you as you turned away from the previous and forgotten conversation. you were immediately at ease just by looking at her, pulling her into a swift embrace.
“oh my god emily, it’s so good to see you.”
“i could say the same. there’s so many people here i’m glad i spotted you.”
emily was part of the team you’d been working with the past few weeks, filming videos and pictures of the washington mystics players to put up on their social media. you two bonded very easily and quickly and it made your job much more fun, so you really grew a keen liking for her.
she felt the same, maybe a little something more than friendly though.
“how are you? having fun?”
“oh yeah, loads of fun. everyone is so sweet.” it wasn’t a lie; other than the soft but increased patter of your heart because of how good she looked, you were doing great.
“yeah? i’m glad. you look really nice by the way. i’ve never seen you dressed up like this.”
“i could say the same about you. i’m so used to seeing you all sweaty, this is a big difference.”
on the surface emily is calm and collected. she laughs lightly at your comment because it’s true, but it also leaves her a little flustered because hopefully no one heard that out of context. but a tiny part of her hopes someone did.
“do you want me to snap some pictures of you in your suit?” you offer, pointing to the camera resting around your neck.
now she’s even more flustered. she nods and moves to stand against the wall, giving you her best model-level smile as you take her picture. when you show her the pictures she almost cringes at how noticeably flushed she is. it’s all because of you and your cute dress and your even cuter smile-
“are you alright em?”
em. fuck. she’s totally done for as soon as you utter the nickname. it’s not even anything special, everyone fucking calls her that. but it sounds different coming from you. it doesn’t help that you grip her bicep just hard enough to make her a little dizzy.
“oh yeah. can we retake those? i look like a tomato.”
“for sure. i’m sorry- i think i messed up the lighting setting on the camera or something.”
she poses again, flashing you that same breath-taking smile. her hands buries itself deep in her pocket to hide the clamminess.
you can’t help but adore her from behind your device. your eyes linger on her face, watching as her eyes trace your movements as you pull the camera away. she’s much more pleased with the results this time, leaning in to affirm your media skills. emily complimented you endlessly as you showed her shots from earlier in the day too, trying to navigate her way into your heart.
“so, do you know if you’re signing with the mystics or..?”
“oh, no i don’t, not for sure anyways. i don’t think i’m supposed to tell you this but it’s definitely been talked about with management and stuff. i think they really like me.”
“how could they not?”
emily tried to keep her spirits high and wandering mind positive. if you were signed with the mystics it’d make things a lot easier for emily. things like making very clear moves on you to a possible and eventual romantic relationship, something she was interested in having with you.
she watches you smile at her comment and it only warms her heart further. she noticed you do this thing when you smile and she absolutely fucking loves it- you always tilt your head a little to the left when you smile, shrugging sometimes when it’s because of a compliment. she watches you do it now, only admiration flooding her mind and body language.
“you gotta stop looking at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like that. it’s driving me crazy”
you almost go breathless because she’s making you so nervous- was she flirting? it was making your head spin and her cheeky smile doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.
you’re about to reply with some nonsense but thankfully the moment saves you, a teammate of emily’s grabbing her attention.
“hey guys! emily c’mere, there’s someone from my college team i want you to meet.”
she reluctantly waves you goodbye as she vanishes back into the crowd of people that’s only grown since she arrived. now you’re left to stand on your own, still flustered by the tall blonde when another one walks towards you, hand gently coming down on your shoulder to grab your attention.
paige bueckers greeted you with a warm smile, a genuine one that reached to her eyes. your eyes went wide with excitement upon seeing her, a smile like her own painting your features excitedly.
“paige! i had no idea you’d be here.”
“y’know i had to show up to see my fav.”
you’d worked with her before, interning with uconn’s media team last year during your last year of college. she was growing to be a big star in college basketball so you worked with her a lot. it was always a fun time, especially since she’s so photogenic.
“i know you’re working with all the pro teams now but i still think you should come back to uconn for my last year.” she teases, squeezing your shoulder as a gentle reminder that she’s still there and still so close to you.
“oh yeah? you gonna win this year?”
“you already know.”
she shoves her hands in her pockets because she realized she can’t stop touching you. even on the retreat, her smirk is relentless and unwavering within your banter together. confidence exudes from her very being and it’s unbelievably attractive, at least she hopes it is.
she’s trying to swoon you.
“really though, what team are you gonna be working with by next year? i need to know where i’m gonna end up.”
you laugh at that, a beautiful laugh that sweeps through your whole body. it’s music to paige’s ears, face heating up at your reaction but she never falters. she’s smiling and laughing with you because your energy is contagious to her, intoxicating enough to where she’s okay with becoming an addict if it means she can be like this forever. with you.
“wouldn’t you like to know.”
“yeah i would actually.”
“can’t tell you.”
“why not?”
“because i don’t know. change of subject though, let me do my job and take some pictures of you.”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah.”
she confidently finds her way in front of the backdrop, posing in a way you can only describe as incredibly fucking hot. she switches her pose a few times and you capture a multitude of pictures from each moment, admiring her beauty and ease.
she swiftly finds her way back to you after a few moments, not able to deny the magnetic energy that keeps pulling her to you. as you show her some of the pictures her hand loops around your torso, pulling you out of the way of passersby, but also just so she can keep close to you.
it feels like it’s been ages since the draft, which is the last time paige saw you. she wants to soak you in now because she doesn’t know when she’ll see you again. the thought sends a pang through her heart but paige is absolutely determined to make a more.. official, move on you tonight. she pulls back to look at your face, cogs in her head turning to look for the perfect thing to say when someone whisks you away.
you bid your sweet, honey-laced farewell before you’re gone in a flash. paige understands, you’re here to work. she strolls away aimlessly, spotting a few familiar faces seated at a table in the distance.
that’s how the three blondes found themselves all at the same table, all gushing about the same person without a clue.
it started with paige talking to caitlin, who eventually dragged kate into the conversation alongside emily. paige talked about you, a nameless mention of the most beautiful girl ever. she gushed to the other blondes about how happy she was to see you again, how pretty you looked, and how sweet you acted.
“i didn’t get to talk to her for long unfortunately but im still so glad i got to see her. she’s so amazing.” paige spoke confidently, leaving your identity anonymous to the rest of the girls at the table. caitlin pushes kate teasingly at the topic, piping up to add to the conversation.
“kate’s little crush is here too. won’t stop talking about her.”
“uh yeah, i saw her when i first got here. i haven’t seen her since though, i think she’s really busy y’know.” kate’s blushing, nowhere in her nightly plans did she intended to spill her guts to everyone about her massive crush on you.
“oh yeah kate, keep it modest. don’t tell them what you told me, about how pretty she looks and how talented she is and how her hair is up so nicely in a cute little half updo-”
“dude!”
“fine, fine.” caitlin’s eyes drift to the other blonde across the table, motioning to her, “what about you? anyone special here tonight?”
emily nervously clears her throat and sinks into the chair. she can’t help but smile at the simple thought of you. the word vomit comes immediately and she can’t even help it.
“oh yeah. i mean, i guess. i’ve kinda liked her for a little while and i got to talk to her earlier. she’s really cool. bro, she’s got this thing she does when she smiles- i swear it’s gonna kill me someday. i’m fucking whipped.”
“same.”
“same.”
kate and paige speak in unison, almost alarmingly. caitlin’s eyes flicker between her friends, then to aaliyah as she approaches the table. she occupies the space between emily and paige, grabbing the shoulders of both her former and current teammate.
“paige did you see peach?”
“yeah, i talked to her a little while ago.”
“did you, emily?”
“yeah i did.”
liyah winks at emily, knowing of the crush her teammate has for her friend. it makes emily blush which immediately catches paige’s eye- it’d be impossible to miss emily’s big smile at the mention of your famous nickname shared between close friends. kate doesn’t catch on, too embarrassed from caitlin’s intrusive speech to think properly.
“wait, what was that?” paige is quick to question, wanting nothing more than for her suspicions to be proven wrong.
“nothing?”
“oh my god.” caitlin breaks through the short silence. she’s pieced it all together. caitlin throws her head back in laughter almost manically because, this drama is too fucking good.
“what?” kate asks, confused as to why everyone looks so concerned.
“you guys all have a crush on the same person.”
everyone’s eyes widen; in fear, horror, shock, jealousy, disbelief, you name it. paige finds you amongst the crowd talking to a woman and can’t help but feel possessive over you. you’re hers. a similar thought seems to run through the other two blondes as well. they all grimace, faces turning sour with discontent.
“wait, you guys have a crush on peach too?” kate doesn’t even want to know the answer, heart sinking past the floor when the other blondes nod in confirmation. she wants to throw up, but more than that she wants to find you and confess her admiration towards you in hopes that you feel the same.
she has to get to you before the others.
she stands up and darts across the room as casually as possible. caitlin watches in shock because she’s never seen her close friend act this way, but there’s a first for everything.
“fuck.” paige mutters, pushing away from the table to follow kate’s trail to you. emily does the same. all the blondes have departed from their previous spots, now only concerned with the trivial task of finding you and getting you alone.
it’s no use though, all immediately arriving within the same second. your attention is inevitably drawn to all three of them as they stand before you with pleading eyes.
“guys? is everything alright?”
“no.” kate mutters, eyes shamelessly wandering over your figure with her bottom lip pulled snugly between her teeth.
“what’s.. what’s going on?”
everyone is silent, glancing around at one another before paige bravely breaks the stale silence. “we all like you peach. a lot. basically, you need to pick one. if any of us.”
“oh.”
˚ ༘♡🍓⋆。˚🏀✧˖°🌼ʚɞ♡🍀
this was 3.1k words…. my longest fic
i really hope it lives up to the hype 😣
yall need to tell me who you want peach to end up with……. maybe all?! 😏
also this long ass fic is not spell checked
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marvelfilth · 5 months
Text
Family dinner
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader
Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour
Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family
Masterlist
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“I need you here yesterday!”
“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.
“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”
“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.
“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”
“...”
“Kate?”
There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”
You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”
“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”
You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”
“Natasha was there too!”
You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.
“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.
“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.
“There's no emergency mission, is there?”
“There better be!”
You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.
“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”
“What?”
“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”
“Kate.”
“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”
You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.
“I love you.”
“I haven't agreed to-”
“I know what that sigh means!”
You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”
×××
Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.
“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”
You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.
Natasha smirks.
“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”
Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”
She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.
“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.
Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.
Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”
You gulp.
“Well?” Natasha prompts.
You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.
“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.
“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.
Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.
“So, Y/n-”
Fuck.
“-are you single?”
You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.
“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.
You nod again, chewing fast.
“Why are you gay?”
You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”
“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”
The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”
You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.
Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.
You sigh, “Are you gay?”
She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.
“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”
You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.
“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”
The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”
“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”
“Huh?” You frown, affronted.
“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.
“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.
“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”
“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”
“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”
Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”
“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”
“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”
“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”
You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.
“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”
The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”
Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.
Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.
“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.
The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.
Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.
“Have you and Kate ever-”
“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.
“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.
“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.
“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.
“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”
You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”
Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”
Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.
“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”
“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.
Really, right in front of her mother?
The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.
“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.
Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.
“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”
Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.
“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”
She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"
You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.
“I am miserably single, too.”
She smiles, nodding to herself.
“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.
“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.
“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”
"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."
“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.
“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”
"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".
Kate just looks like she's about to faint.
You grin. "I can't wait."
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scarletlizzard · 6 months
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Inked Desires - Part 2
Read Part 1 right here
Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.
Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader
Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication
Masterlist
A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.
Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞
That being said, there will be a part 3 😄
"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.
"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.
That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.
You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.
Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.
"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.
"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.
You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.
"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.
"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.
"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.
"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.
"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.
You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.
"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.
An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.
"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.
Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."
You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.
"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.
As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.
"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.
"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.
"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.
"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.
"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.
"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.
As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.
"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.
"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.
From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.
It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.
There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.
"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.
"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.
"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."
You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.
"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.
"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.
"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.
"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.
****
Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.
You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.
But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.
You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.
"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.
"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.
"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.
"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.
"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.
"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.
It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.
"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.
If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.
"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.
You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.
"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.
You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.
"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.
"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.
Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.
"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.
You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.
"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.
"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.
"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.
"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.
When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.
After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.
You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.
Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.
"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.
You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.
"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.
"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.
"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.
"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.
Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.
At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.
You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.
"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.
Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.
You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.
Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.
"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.
"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.
You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.
"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.
As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.
With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.
"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.
Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.
"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.
"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.
"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.
At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.
When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.
You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.
Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.
"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.
Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.
"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.
"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.
She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.
"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.
"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.
Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.
"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.
Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.
Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."
You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.
"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.
"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.
The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.
After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.
"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.
"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.
****
"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.
After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.
She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.
"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.
"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"
"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.
"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.
"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.
You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.
"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.
That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?
"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.
Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.
Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.
"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.
"No, not -"
"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.
"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.
"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.
You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"
And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.
"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.
***
A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.
Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.
Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.
But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.
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