#and Nat pouring out the wine

[doubleappled]

Something we don’t talk about enough

is how Richie and Donna call each other “Ree Ree” and “Aunt Dee Dee” in s2e6. When Donna calls Richie into the kitchen, and Richie is tickling her on the kitchen floor (?!).

Ree Ree.

Aunt Dee Dee.

Thank you.

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (3)- Age Difference

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: Separated from the rest of the group, you and Wanda find the perfect opportunity in the kitchen to have some alone time.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Mommy Kink, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Power Bottom Wanda, Implied cheating

Kinktober Masterlist

"Uh I don't think so young lady," your aunt, Natasha, says teasingly, taking the glass of wine you just picked up out of your hand. She simply raised her eyebrow at you, taking a sip herself of the drink as she watched with fake glare.

"Oh come on Nat," you grumbled, leaning back into your seat as your aunt chuckled at you, Wanda also laughing at the display. "Surely I can have one drink ," you stare at her with your best puppy eyes, hoping that even though you're an adult she'll give into the oldest trick in the book.

"You can have a drink when you're twenty one," she says with no room for challenge in her tone, yet you decide to try anyway, what's the worst she can do? Pour it on you?

"Please, everyone else is drinking," you motion to Wanda and Vision who sit together on the couch, Maria who sits in an arm chair and to Yelena who is casually sipping her beer while on her phone, most likely texting her girlfriend Kate. "And I'm basically twenty one, It's only two months."

"Well if it's only two months, I'm sure you can wait," she takes another large sip to taunt you, smirking over the rim of the glass as you groan in annoyance at her. "Also everyone else here is at least over twenty one."

"More like over thirty," you grumble, earning a real glare this time. "Fine," pushing yourself to your feet, you start heading towards the kitchen, "I'll go get myself a drink suitable for a twenty year old." You hear a chorus of laughter and shake your head while making your way through the house.

When you arrive at the kitchen you head straight to the fridge hoping to find something to drink and take back to the group. You frown when all you can see are juice boxes and groan when you remember this is Wanda and Visions house so everything is catered for children. Mumbling a small, "Fuck it," you grab two blackcurrant juice boxes and place one on the counter top while stabbing the straw through the other. You got lost in your thoughts as you moodily drank one of the twins drinks, jumping when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.

"Hey Detka," she whispers into your ear, body flush against your back. "Enjoying the drink?" she teases making you groan once again, turning in her hold to face her. You stare up at the older woman, admiring her features as she smiles softly at you. Your mouth opens to make a snarky remark but your voice dies down when you feel her hands drift towards your ass and face lower, her lips now ghosting yours. "How about I give you something that tastes a lot better than any drink you can have?" she rasps out, accent delicately wrapping around her words.

"What about Vision?" you murmur, losing yourself in her darkening green eyes.

"He's too busy telling the others a work story," she slowly turns the two of you around, her now leaning against the marble countertop of her kitchen. "So?" one hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upwards to look at her better, "Do you want to make Mommy feel good?"

You lean forward to capture her lips, groaning at the lingering taste of alcohol on her lips and move your hands to hold her waist. You feel her tongue slide over your bottom lip, not hesitating to part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in and dominate your mouth. You groan into the kiss when her hands move up your body, one resting casually on your neck.

"We don't have time to play Detka," she murmurs between kisses before pulling back, "Be a good girl for Mommy and kneel." You practically drop to your knees at her sultry voice, staring up at her with lust-filled eyes as your hands slowly creep up her legs. When you reach the hem of her skirt you stop, the silent question in your eyes answered when she nods and threads a hand through your hair. Swiftly, you lift the skirt so your head can meet her core and groan quietly to yourself when you see she's not wearing any panties, her arousal dripping from her.

"Fuck Mommy, you're so beautiful," you mutter while place a few kisses on her thighs before leaning forwards to lick a stripe up her core.

"Shit Detka," she moans quietly, hands gripping the countertop till her knuckles start to bleed white. "Do you know how turned on Mommy was when she saw you earlier?" her voice breathy as she tries to control her volume, your tongue swirling over her clit not helping her stay quiet. "I was so tempted to drag you into the bathroom and have you on your knees like now, fucking me with that perfect little mouth of yours." You groan into her pussy at her words, one of your hands raising to her core so you could tease her entrance with your fingers. At the same time, you suck hard on her clit and thrust a finger into her, one of her hands clamping over her mouth to muffle the moan that erupted from the back of her throat. "That's it Detka, you're making Mommy feel so good," she praises quickly before placing her hand back over her mouth as you curl your finger inside her.

Your tongue continues to swirl around her clit as you add another finger into her, thrusting both digits into her mercilessly as you're addicted to the sound of the muffled moans echoing around the room.

"You taste so good Mommy," you murmur before pulling your fingers out, earning a low groan in response before a choked moan when you thrust your tongue into her. You relentlessly thrust it into her while your fingers go to her clit, circling it in time with the way you curl your tongue inside her to have her legs shake slightly as she supports herself with the countertop.

" God Detka, " she groans out, "Right there, fuck I'm gonna come." You feel her clench around your tongue, legs trembling by your head as her orgasm washes over her. You moan into her when you feel her cum coat your tongue and help her ride out her aftershocks by slowly circling her clit. Her hands gently push you away when she gets too sensitive, you sitting back on your feet as you look up at her with a dazed smile, her arousal all over your mouth. She pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and crashes her lips to yours, moaning into your mouth at the taste of herself. "Good girl," she praises one last time before she lets you clean your face off with a washcloth and tidies her appearance up.

"How's the drink coming along?" Natasha says while Maria wraps her arm around her middle, both of them holding empty wine glasses as they stroll into the kitchen. They pause in their tracks when they see you with a straw in your mouth, your hand holding the other juice box as you finished the first, while your cheeks seemingly flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh my god!" Maria exclaimed while Natasha burst out into laughter, placing down her glass so she wouldn't drop it. You scowled as they started to tease you for drinking a child's drink, defending yourself as best you could but to no avail. You grumbled under your breath before turning your gaze to Wanda who had a soft smile that lessened your bad mood.

You made your way out of the kitchen to avoid any more teasing but stopped at the door of the living room when Wanda grabbed your hand.

"Meet me later for your reward, you were such a good girl for Mommy."

[morbidlcve]

Have you seen the "very demure, very cutesy" trend? How about pranking nat centering that trend somehow, e.g., just randomly blurting out that sentence every time she says something or etc.

Love your writing btw!

Very mindful

an: I hope you like it; this was so fun to write!! <3

pairings: natasha x reader

CW: talks about alcohol and alcohol consumption.

word count: 0.8k

Natasha is a gentle lover, and her love language is 100% acts of service or words of affirmation. She wouldn't be big on touch, until she got to fully feel comfortable around you, then she would never let you go, almost like you were her harbor when she was drifting away, calling her back to you with just your touch.

Natasha always like to talk to you about what your doing, what book your reading, music you listen to, your plans for the day if she's off to the compound. Your sleep pattern is pretty much identical to hers now given how long you have lived with her and how much of a light sleeper you were, Nat getting out of bed in the morning wakes you and then your up for the day too.

Natasha loves to surprise you, too; she will go out of her way to read the books you are reading or have read, just for a topic of conversation with you. You tell her you're reading The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Natasha didn't expect to relate and love the book nearly as much as she did. You were out with your friends for a few hours for coffee, leaving Nat at home with a glass of wine and the beautiful words of Dostoyevsky to keep her company.

She must've fallen asleep because the sky was growing darker when she woke, and your keys were shuffling around in the keyhole. Natasha sat up and continued reading waiting for you to come and join her. "Hi love", you smile sitting down next to her, eyeing the book. "Are you... are you reading the same book as me?" you ask nudging her with your shoulder.

"I wanted to talk to you about it," she says shyly, feeling embarrassed that she had been caught. Awe, don't go all shy on me, Talia. I think it's sweet, very mindful of you, very demure," you say, giggling. Natasha looks at you as though you have three heads. "I'm sorry, very what?" she asks, looking so confused that you can't help but giggle more.

Tony had invited all the gang and their plus ones for a family dinner, courtesy of Wanda's cooking. You are sitting down talking with Bucky about what he thinks you should read next and what you think he would like, when you see a glass of wine right in front of your face. You smiled, thanking her, taking it from Natasha's hands and taking a little sip. "See how you didn't even have to ask for that glass of wine, she just poured you one?" Kate said, giving Yelena a subtle look. "Very cutesy", "Very mindful", "Very demure"; Peter, Thor and you replied, sending you four into a fit of giggles. Yelena rolled her eyes dramatically and went to the kitchen, to pour Kate a glass.

"Seriously, what is this?" Natasha says from behind you, her hands on your shoulders. "It's a little trend that's going around on the internet", Peter explains to Nat, humming, taking a sip of her drink. She gently pinched your shoulder making you quietly laugh to your self, leaning back into her.

Natasha had been called in for a meeting early in the morning; she knew she woke you up getting out of bed, so as she was getting ready, she made sure to make a pot of coffee for you when you finished getting ready for the day.

You came out of the bedroom just after Natasha had left, seeing that she had made you a pot of coffee all to yourself, and it was still warm, brought a big smile to your face. You sent her a quick message expressing your thanks ('A pot of hot, brewed coffee to start my day, very mindful of you ;)') and poured yourself a cup before starting your early day working from home.

Natasha heard her phone buzz and chuckled, reading your message, shaking her head, redirecting her focus back to the meeting.

By 10 am, you had finished all your work and decided to go for a walk in the park to find a nice place to sit and read. You stopped at a cute little cafe on your way, opting to get one for Nat, too, who said she'd meet you when she's finished.

You had found a nice little place to sit down, and read a few chapters by the time Nat had found you -thanks to sharing your location- and came and sat with you, taking her coffee out of the cardboard cup holder. "Getting me a coffee?" she smirks, wrapping her arm around you. "Very mindful of you", she chuckles when you laugh out loud, drawing a few curious eyes and curling your face into her neck. "You, of all people, did not just say that", you giggle.

Over time it became a little joke between you and the red head, and each time it gets more funnier.

i hope this is okay and that you like it, thank you for the request!! 🫂💗

[togrowoldinv]

Date Night

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

A date night with Natasha

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, car sex, fingering (R receiving), soft and hot times

Note: I was thinking about Natasha as per usual. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The candles and soft lighting illuminate Natasha’s smile. She looks at you like you’re the only person in the entire world.

The waiter pours her glass of wine and yours before walking away, leaving you and Natasha be. She takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this,” she says once she’s swallowed the sweet liquid.

“Me too,” you agree. “It’s been far too long since we had a date night.”

“Mhm. Do you think the kids are behaving for Yelena?”

“Oh, I’m sure. But is Yelena behaving?” You joke.

Natasha chuckles and says, “Not a chance. That girl is so unpredictable.”

You laugh. The conversation continues to be about your family that you both love so much until Natasha changes the subject.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” she says, her voice comes out steady but the way her eyes don’t quite catch yours makes you nervous.

“Okay,” you say uneasily.

“I’m going to retire from avenging,” Nat says. You open your mouth to react, but she stops you short. “Before you say anything, I’ve thought a lot about this. It makes the most sense for our family. I can’t be out there risking my life. Not when I have so much to lose now.”

“Natasha-“

“I know,” she seems to read your mind. “I know it’s what I’ve always done. Fought for something. But it’s not what I want anymore.”

“Well, you know I support you no matter what,” you tell her. You see her take a deep breath. “And it does make sense why you’ve been different lately. This has been weighing on you. I’m glad you told me.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Nat says. “I have one more mission to go on before I retire. Steve already asked me to go, so I don’t want to leave him and the team hanging.”

“What kind of mission?”

“The kind that might not be the safest,” Nat reluctantly replies. “I’m sorry to tell you about it tonight, but it’s hard to get a moment alone with you.”

“I understand, Natasha,” you say. “Let’s just make the most of tonight before you go?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart. I love you,” Natasha says.

“I love you too,” you say.

The rest of the dinner goes by without anymore serious conversations. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the car. Like always, she opens the door for you to slide in.

“Ice cream?” She asks once she’s sitting in the drivers seat.

“The kids will be sad,” you reflect.

“The kids will never know,” Nat says, her playful smirk on her face. “Come on, baby. I want ice cream. Please?”

“Are you begging me?”

“Are you not into me begging you? Because last time I checked you like when I do that,” her voice drops an octave and you feel your entire body react.

“Fine, we’ll get ice cream,” you relent. Nat kisses your cheek in victory. “Only because you’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Nat pouts.

“You’re extremely cute.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, babe. Accept it.”

“Never.”

“Just drive,” you say.

You share a smile and Nat starts the car. She drives to your favorite ice cream place. Natasha doesn’t even have to ask you what you want. She already knows. She orders and you find a booth while she waits for the treats.

“I got two different ones because I wasn’t sure what you were feeling tonight,” she says. She slides into the booth across from you.

“Thank you, my love.”

You eat a little of both flavors while Nat does the same. While you’re eating, Natasha gets a text from Yelena. It’s a photo of the kids sound asleep in the living room.

“And it’s only 9pm. Well done, Yelena,” you say.

“I miss them,” Nat says.

“Me too,” you agree.

You reach across the table and intertwine her fingers with yours.

“How long?” You ask, bringing up the mission again. She doesn’t have to ask you to know it’s what you meant.

“2 maybe 3 weeks,” she replies. “I leave Friday.”

You nod. There’s a sadness lingering but you push it aside for now.

“Should we get the kids something?” Nat asks.

“Nah, it won’t be as good tomorrow. We’ll just take them out when you get back.”

“Good idea,” Nat says. “Let’s go.”

The ride home is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You love just existing with Natasha. No words can really capture how you’re feeling. She knows that.

When you get home, Nat stops you from opening your car door. She doesn’t say anything, but she leans across the center console and kisses you.

She kisses you like her life depends on it. Her tongue brushes against yours and you realize her intentions. You push her classic leather jacket off her shoulders.

“Nat,” you whisper as her lips move to your neck.

“I want you,” Nat says.

“You can have me,” you say.

She moves her hand to your pants and dips it beneath the fabric. It doesn’t take long at all to find where you want her the most. Natasha knows your body so well.

“Fuck,” you mumble as she moves her fingers through your folds.

“I love you,” Natasha says against your lips. She leaves hot, opened mouthed kisses all over your face, neck, and any other skin she can reach.

“I love you,” you reply. “Fuck, I love you.”

It’s been too long since you’ve done something like this. Since you’ve been entirely lost in each other in a not so private place. Her and the circumstances leave you feeling so hot.

“Come for me,” Natasha says. She knows your body and your whimpers well enough to know you’re close. “Come for me, detka.”

You come hard against her hand. Natasha grins at the pleasure she sees move through your entire body.

She kisses you softly once you’ve opened your eyes again.

“Let’s go inside?” She asks.

You nod. She gets out of the car as you readjust your clothes and follow her.

Once inside, you love the sight you see. Yelena is laying between the kids on the couch. She’s sound asleep.

“Cute,” you whisper.

Nat takes a photo before you tiptoe past your sweet family. Before you make it to your bedroom, you both hear Yelena.

“I know you two were out there a while before you came in,” she says quietly, her eyes still closed.

You and Nat just giggle.

“Night, Yelena,” Natasha says.

“Goodnight, lovebirds,” she replies.

You and Natasha go to your bedroom and finish what you started.

You’re always so proud of her in everything she does, and you know her future even without avenging will be just fine.

And she’ll always come home to you.

[nats-firefly]

i touch my phone as if it's your face

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: nat's on a mission every valentine's day. this time she can call you. right?

warnings: none really, just kinda sad

a/n: happy valentine's day to all my long distance gays. i feel your pain. this was something i very quickly put together. vent fic, sue me.

words: 750 | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, swiping the tip of your index finger under your lip to fix your lipstick. It had been over an hour since you started getting ready, the anticipation of seeing your girlfriend growing bigger every second that ticked by. 

Valentine’s day is apparently a surprisingly busy time for superheroes, in all the years the two of you have been together, Natasha has been away for all of them. But this year she promised you you’d be able to call and have dinner together. She was undercover as some unreasonably rich guy’s assistant like she had been for Tony back in the day. While he was enjoying the night with his girlfriend, she’d have the chance to call you after doing recon in his private study. Allegedly. 

Natasha being away meant you didn’t get to talk or text or see her very often. It also meant since this was your first time seeing her in months, you wanted to dress up for her. You even put on a special set of lingerie under your clothes so you could give her a show after dinner. 

You had spent the better part of the day preparing for your date with Natasha. You made a hearty plate of pasta, poured yourself a glass of wine. You even lit a candle. Then you waited. 

You picked up your phone to check your messages to see if Natasha had said anything. 

Can’t wait for our date tonight. Delivered.

She hadn’t texted you back since you sent her that text this morning. You didn’t know which part of the world she was in, but from the small details she’d told you it didn’t seem like she was out of the country. Maybe it was just not dinnertime for her yet. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe she’d been caught.

You checked your phone again, but nothing had changed. Maybe you just needed to get your mind off of it. You took your glass of wine and settled yourself on the couch, putting on an episode of your favorite show. One glass turned into two, which turned into three. It was late at night, so you decided to reheat your cold and forgotten plate of pasta. 

As you slumped against the kitchen counter waiting for your food to reheat, your phone screen lights up, followed by the repeated vibrations signaling a video call. Your face lit up and your heart beat loudly in your chest as you clicked answer.

“Baby,” Natasha breathed in relief when she saw your face pop up on her phone. She had been looking forward to talking to you all day. Her ‘boss’ had sent her on a wild last minute goose chase to set up a Valentine’s surprise for his girlfriend. In true rich guy fashion he had done none of the work, but Natasha needed to stay on his good side for a little while longer. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Nat,” Your finger slides over her cheek and down the side of your phone. Your eyes tear up a bit. Your chest aches and your lip trembles. “I really miss you.”

“Me too, angel,” Natasha says, she notices the change in your expression. She thinks about quitting her job. “Happy Valentine’s Day, malysh.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” You answer. The microwave beeps, but you ignore it, deciding to focus on the redhead on your phone instead. You want to crawl through the screen. Desperation rises in your chest. You don’t know what to do with yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Natasha feels a knot in her throat. She hates being away from you. “Tell me how you’ve been, baby. How’s work? Did that guy in accounting get fired?”

“Oh, Tom? Yeah he-” You were interrupted by a muffled male voice. Then things happened very quickly.

“Oh,” Natasha said, being caught off guard then briefly looking at you with an almost apologetic look.

“Natalie, can you fi-” Call disconnected. 

You stared back at your reflection on the phone screen. You got two minutes with her. 

You went to bed still wearing the clothes and lingerie that were supposed to end up on the floor that night. With the plate of pasta forgotten in the microwave, and mascara stains on your pillow.

As you numbly scrolled through your phone every Valentine’s day post was like a slap to the face. 

Everyone had their someone. Except you. 

Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your boss propositions you.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + CEO + “Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it.” + Mommy kink, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, power imbalance, age gap, abuse of power, threats, praise, Mommy kink, manipulation, drinking, smoking (nat), pet names, kissing, boss/employee relationship, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sigh as you hit ‘Save’ on your document, closing out the tab and shutting your computer down. You’re excited for the long weekend, even though you’ll waste it with binge-watching and napping. But at least you’ll have a chance to catch up on your sleep.

You turn around and take a peek into Ms. Romanoff’s office, finding that she is still there. You exhale shakily and knock on the door. She always makes you nervous—despite you being her secretary. 

“Come in!” she calls out. You push open the heavy door and let it close behind you. 

Natasha has her legs kicked up on her desk, still wearing her Louboutins. She has a cigarette between her fingers, and the smoke twirls in the air, performing a dance that nearly entices you.  

“Ms. Romanoff, I’m done for today,” you tell her, giving your boss a meek smile. She smirks and puts the cigarette out, sitting up properly. “Are you?” she asks, clearly impressed. You nod your head.

“Good girl. You’re my best employee, you know that, right?” Natasha says, and you grow warm under her praise. “Ah, thank you, Ma’am,” you hum. Your day is completely made. All you ever want to do is be good. 

“You’re welcome, honey. We’re the last ones here, aren’t we?” 

Natasha stands up and walks to her personal bar cart, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. She pours some for herself and grabs wine for you, knowing that you’re not a fan of her hard liquor. 

“Yes, ma’am. The office is completely cleared out,” you confirm. Your coworkers were more than happy to leave early, even though they know Natasha will ream their asses out in the next meeting. “Good. Have a drink with me?”

You take the offer and sit in the chair before her desk. She hands you the full glass, and you accept it gratefully. Natasha smiles and sits on the table, closer than she usually is. You’ve noticed that the last few weeks, but don’t think much of it. Perhaps she’s being friendly. You’ll take anything for a promotion.

You sip the wine, and Natasha downs her whiskey in a swift gulp, amazing you.

“You excited for the long weekend?” she asks, letting out a satisfied sigh from the alcohol. “Yep. Got lots of sleep to catch up on,” you joke. Natasha chuckles. “You work so hard,” she expresses. 

You’re not sure what to say, so you simply look down into your glass, staring at your reflection in the dark liquid.

A warm hand grabs your chin and tilts your head up. You’re forced to watch Natasha as her eyes scan your face. You feel scrutinized under her intense gaze. This isn’t right—the way she’s touching you is against company policy. Most importantly, it makes you uncomfortable, even though it feels right to some extent. 

“Let me take care of you, sweetie,” Natasha whispers, and she leans in. 

Your boss kisses you passionately, taking your breath away. In your shock, you don’t fight back until you wake up from your stupor and pull away, your drink spilling in the chaos. She gasps at your actions and looks down to where the wine stains your white blouse and grey pants.

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously. “C’mon, don’t be like that, baby. Let Mommy take care of you,” she pushes, leaning towards you again with arms outstretched, ready to trap you in her hold. This time, you react quicker. 

You stand up and move backwards, taking multiple steps away. In your heels, you wobble. You know you won’t be able to get far, but you’ll be damned if you ever let a powerful CEO like Ms. Romanoff take advantage of you. 

“Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it,” Natasha smirks. Even she knows you wouldn’t stand a chance. Still, you rush to the doors and attempt to push them open, but they don’t budge. The alcohol has loosened your movements—weakened you. Your boss laughs at your attempted escape.

“You’re adorable, kitten,” she coos, walking up to you. Natasha pulls your hands away from the door. “I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth. “My name? I’d love that. Except there’s no one around to hear you,” Natasha reminds you.

Dammit. 

“I’ll file a report,” you sputter. “Cute. You think they can touch me? You’re clearly wasted. They’ll know you’re just trying to get a promotion,” Natasha cackles. Your breathing turns heavy as you realize you cannot escape this situation. “Relax, honey. Let Mommy do all the thinking,” she coaxes. 

Somehow, Natasha manages to get you to sit on her lap while she’s at her desk. You tremble the entire time and regret ever taking the job, even though she promises a huge bonus for being her good girl. 

[wandascrush]

Just let me in

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader, Sharon Carter x Fem!reader

A/N: Pt. 2 of Let The Light In

Warnings: Angst, fluff, more angst, kissing, arguments, ANGST

Song: Let The Light In- Lana Del Rey

Her car hummed to a start, sputtering and coughing before taking off down the long road to San Francisco- 42 hours to be exact. The city seemed emptier without her, the familiar sights of San Francisco now tainted with bittersweet memories of what used to be. Nat was too homesick to eat, drink, even sleep. But she wasn’t homesick for San Francisco, or the minimalistic home she rented in Washington - she was homesick for you. Almost two days later she was standing at your front door in the pouring rain, shaking and shivering. This was also the last moment she could imagine what your reaction would be, before reality hit her.

Observant eyes noticed all the new changes to the home, brighter and prettier without Natasha in it. And she saw a new car in the driveway, shiny and classic. Not your style at all. 

    Meanwhile, you were inside cooking a warm meal for the pretty agent, Sharon, if you remembered correctly, that was sitting on your couch. She was a beautiful blonde in a form fitting black dress with nude heels, and some files waiting  to go over with you. You both were adults, and you knew this was more than just a debrief when she brought wine and red lipstick that would look better on your lips. Sharon was different from Nat, just as confident, but soft- warm…maybe kind was the word you were looking for. You missed that. 

 It'd been nearly a year since Natasha left. The memory of that night still haunts you—the door slamming, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder, the way she couldn't even look at you as she walked away. The way you cried and begged her to change for months, asked her to stay for you. Asked why you weren’t enough. That was the night you heard one of the most painful words echo from the woman that had your heart in her hands, “Sometimes you just aren’t enough. Maybe you never were, Y/N.” And in that moment you knew you had to let her go. Months were spent wondering what you did wrong, how things had unraveled so quickly after what you thought was a strong, loving relationship. 

But time heals all wounds, as they say. Slowly, you started to move on. Friends encouraged you to get back out there, to rediscover yourself, and eventually, you took Sharon up on her offer for a “debrief.” The aroma of the lasagna you've prepared fills the air, mingling with the faint sound of jazz playing in the background. You laugh together, eat, and hardly remember the files sitting untouched in the coffee table. 

Outside, hidden by the shadows of the night, Natasha sat on your front doorstep, waiting for you to open the door, or to gather the courage to knock. As the Black Widow stood at the door, fist raised, ready to knock, something stops her. Through the window, she catches sight of you. 

You look radiant, a soft smile on your face as you pour a glass of wine for Sharon. Maybe her first, maybe her third. You two had lost count. The warmth of your home, the way you look at the beautiful blonde with your bright eyes crinkling at the ends, laughing till a tear rolled down your cheek—it hits Natasha like a punch to the gut. And some sick, punishing part of herself can't tear her big green eyes away from the scene, the sight of you happy and moving on. Nothing like the turmoil she's been living in.

 Her heart aches as she watches you lean closer to Sharon, your laughter reaching her ears even from outside. And at that moment, Natasha, once affectionately called “Natty,”  knows she has no right to disrupt your happiness. As Sharon leans in to kiss you, you catch a glimpse of movement outside the window. For a brief second, you think you see someone familiar, like that familiar head of red hair that could bring you to your knees. But then it's gone. You shake your head, dismissing it as a trick of the light or your mind playing games. Tonight, you're happy, and that’s all you need. 

Natasha drives away, the city lights blurring into streaks as tears well up in her eyes. 

When soft, warm morning light hits you the next morning and the weight of Sharon’s arm is wrapped around your bare waist, you feel good. Really good. Finally. As you make the pretty blonde asleep in your bed a fresh cup of coffee and open your front door to get the mail, you see a wet bouquet of flowers on the floor.

 A simple note attached reads, “Did I lose you forever?” 

[faerygrant]

waiting room - carmen berzatto x reader.

summary: Carmen’s neglect of your relationship finally comes to a boiling point on the eve of your ten month anniversary.

The table had been set, your favourite China, courtesy of Pete and Nat upon their return from a couples trip two months ago. The bathroom adorned with rose petals and illuminated by a fiery orange flame, vanilla bean scent of your overpriced candles billowing throughout. The bubbles hadn’t subsided, still foamy and enlarged, though you were sure the water had probably gone cold by now.

You sunk to your knees, the caps hitting the cold hexagon shaped tiles leaving you to slightly shudder. All at once, you blew the candles out, the itch in your throat only growing. At any moment now you knew you’d crack, it was only a matter of time.

Once the candles were blown out, the tub drained leaving the damp petals to cling to the sides of the bathtub you made your way back to the dining room, the glistening China never failing to catch your attention.

You took a seat, the Picarde you’d worked so hard on preparing for Carmy was still placed in the middle of the table, covered by aluminium foil. The 2006 bottle of Barossa Shiraz, a gift from his uncle, peaked your interest leading you to pour a glass full for yourself.

With your glass in hand, wrapped up in your white robe you scattered out of the dining and into the living area, where you sat solemnly on the sofa. You’d taken off the dress you’d bought specifically for this night, if Carmy couldn’t remember to even show for your ten month anniversary, there was no reason he deserved the effort you put into looking nice for him.

Your relationship had started of very spur of the moment, introduced to him by a friend in highschool you’d lost contact once he set off for New York but still frequently thought about him. Once he was back in Chicago the two of you were set up on a date by said friend and things took off from there. The honeymoon stage had been almost perfect, his time, attention, affection it was all on you. But as the restaurant became busier and business grew, his attention shifted and his attempts to keep you happy had turned lousy.

So here you were, clad in your white bathrobe and a two piece set from agent provocateur you’d planned on surprising him with. A glass of Shiraz in hand and a heart that was slowly breaking every second the man you loved remained away from you.

At least 30 minutes had gone by and by this point the bottle of Shiraz had found it’s way into your lap, when the sound of the keys fiddling sounded from the door.

“Yo, you still up?” Carmen’s voice calls from behind the sofa, though you make no effort to acknowledge him. You can smell a mix of cologne and cigarette on him as he rounds the sofa and takes a seat by you. He makes no mention of your silence, almost as if he doesn’t notice it. Instead he opts to toe off his shoes and stretch into the chair.

“We were fucked today, Syd and I tried to keep shit running smoothly but we shat the bed with the new recipe. Salty as fuck, don’t think that balsamic glaze could save it” he speaks, his hands covering his face as he leans backwards, clad in his usual pristine white tee and black slacks. You once again simply ignore his words, waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.

“You listenin’ or am I talking to myself?” He brings his hands away from his face, finally acknowledging you. You place your glass of wine down and simply shrug.

“Alright what the fuck is the matter? You fuckin ignored my texts all day, I tried not to make a big deal of it, now m’home tryna’ tell you about my day and you’re not sayin’ shit?” He yells, louder than necessary, the vein in his neck bulging like it always does when he’s upset. His outbursts don’t frighten you though, not anymore atleast.

“What day is it today Carmen?” You quietly whisper, arms crossed over the other, your fingers playing with the fuzzy fabric of your robe.

“I-I don’t fuckin’ know, Wednesday?” He questions, elbows on his knees as he stares at you intensely.

“No, I mean what’s the fucking date today Carmen?”

“The 24th, why is this relev-“ he pauses for a second and instantly his eyes bulge. “Oh fuck, oh shit.”

“Exactly.” You mumble, watching as he goes red, already beating himself up.

“I’m so fuckin sorry, I- I fuck- I don’t even- fuck.” He yells, standing up and pacing the living area, refusing to meet your gaze.

“I’m a fuckin idiot, I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin sorry I don’t even know how I could forget I just, I- I don’t know.” He blabbers and you simply shrug. Your silence killing him.

“Say somethin, fucks sakes, anything.” He pleads with you.”

“I have nothing to say Carmen.” You stand from the sofa, face to face with him, his eyes already fling red, tears rolling down his red face and stray hairs sticking to his forehead.

“Please, fuckin take it out on me I deserve it” he grabs your arms placing them against his chest, pleading with you to hurt him like he hurt you.

“Fine, you want me to take it out on you, I will. I planned this whole dinner, a special night for the two of us since you’ve been working nonstop for the last two months and in return you couldn’t even remember our anniversary. I’ve tried Carmy, so hard to be understanding of your job but I can’t be left to wait for you forever.” A lone tear dropping from your eyes, as you watched his face fall in realisation.

“What’re you doin?, hm what’re you tryna say?” He yells with urgency. The purple-ish blue veins bulging and illuminating his pale skin.

“Carmen I’m not going to be left in the waiting room forever, I refuse to be second in a game I know I’ll never win. Your job means the world to you and I’m not going to make you choose.”

“You- I- please don’t do this, don’t do this, please don’t fuckin do this. I- I lo- I love you” He sniffles, hands bringing your face to his, both your heads leaning against the others.

“It’s for the better.” You whisper, eyes closed, forehead against his and heart shattering.

[wandanatsgf]

If You're Gonna Lie

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 691

Summary: You know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Warnings: This is kinda sad and contains smut so read at your own risk.

You knew being an avenger and dating a fellow avenger was going to be hard work. You knew you’d go through a lot together, but you never expected this.

The red wine sits untouched in the glass you had poured for her. Her dinner has gone cold by now. She said she would be here tonight, but once again she blew you off.

Giving up, you chug her glass and yours before putting them in the dishwasher. Next you throw out her dinner and put the plate in the dishwasher as well and pack up all of the leftovers.

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known she would blow you off again. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. You knew what was going on, but it was easier to believe her lies than to believe she was cheating.

You can feel tears threatening to escape, but you refuse to let them fall.

In the middle of your thinking, the woman of the hour walks in the door.

“I’m so sorry baby. I had to work late. This mission was just crazy,” she tells you. You know it’s a lie, but you’d rather hear her lies than see her leave.

“It’s alright baby. I know how hard work is,” you tell her. The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you choose to ignore that.

“Do you want some dinner? I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge.”

“I think I’d much rather have dessert first,” she says. You know she's doing this to reassure you and probably herself, and you let her. She walks towards you and places her hands on your hips and her lips on your lips.

She tastes like merlot, the merlot he gave her, and cherries. It’s a deadly combination to you. It’s addicting and you hate it. You crave it but you know you should leave. Yet you kiss her back fervently. Your hands tangle themselves in her red locks.

Natasha walks the two of you backwards so that you are pressed up against the kitchen counter. She helps you up, never taking her lips off of you.

Natasha positions herself in between your hips and slowly trails her lips down your neck.

“Nat please,” you beg. You can feel your core getting wetter and wetter the more she touches you.

“Please what baby? What do you want?”

“I want you Nat please. Please fuck me."

Wordlessly Natasha pulls her lips away from you and drops to her knees in front of you. She pulls your shorts and underwear off in one quick motion before going to town on your heat.

“Fuck Nat,” you hear yourself say. Nat wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. Your hips buck up against her mouth and you let out a porn star like moan.

You can feel yourself getting closer with every lick and suck. Your hips start to move like crazy and your moans become uncontrollable. You can feel Natasha smile against your pussy.

"Come on detka. Be a good girl and cum for me," she breathily lets out. At her words you feel the coil in your stomach unwind. Your release coats Nat's tongue and she continues to lick you until you are squirming away from her touch.

Natasha removes herself from your pussy and stands up. She kisses you softly and you can feel yourself melting against her lips.

"I love you," she whispers softly. You choose to ignore the stinging in your chest when you hear her words.

"I love you too."

After Natasha actually eats food you had prepared, the two of you spend the night with her in between your legs and vice versa. When she finally tires, she sweetly kisses you goodnight. She wraps her body around yours and quickly drifts off.

But your thoughts are running too fast to sleep. As you lay intertwined with Natasha you can feel tears threatening to spill. You hate yourself for staying, but you love her so much. You pretend she still loves you and that her words still mean something, because at the end of the day she comes home to you. Not him.

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu // steve’s music

Honey, On Your Knees

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: Your husband and you get nasty in a church…again. // This fic is a part of my "Her Body Is Bible" AU - you can find the first story and more here // NSFW 18+

the song: Holy by King Princess

2.5k words

warnings: warnings from prev fic still apply // religious themes, and the holiday Christmas being celebrated // As with part one, you’ll be blocked - nobody is forcing you to read this // Mentions of trying to get pregnant // Alcohol mentions and use by reader // SMUT (oral - reader receiving, public, steve is kind of edging us a little if you squint) // My blog is 18+

A/N: originally requested for an event, I combined two requests from an anon and @djoswiftie - thanks for your patience 💛. The prompts were [APOLOGY: a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends] / [FLASH: one muse “accidentally” flashes the other] -- maybe not in the way you think FYI // [NECK: a kiss or gentle sucking on neck] / [PALM: one muse palms the other muse’s penis/breasts through clothes]

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

The house was warm, the low murmur of relatives catching up while silverware clinked together mixed with Nat King Cole crooning out of the stereo. Mashed potatoes heaped by spoonfuls onto plates, kids’ new toys scattered in a rush once the ham was carved, and soon wine started to be poured for those of age.

Vivian Harrington simply smiled as you told her none for you and moved on, but the same couldn’t be said for others at the table. 

“Not drinking, huh? Are you pregnant?” 

If his scotch drunk uncle jumped over the line of appropriate, Steve ignored it all together, replying hopefully and without thought. 

“No…not yet!”

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

Your eyes widened, jaw tensed as you huffed out a breath through your nose. Steve’s cheeks flushed, and the table erupted into chaos, terribly intimate questions directed towards you. 

“Oh! Are you trying?! How exciting!”

“When you are, make sure Stephen here does everything. It’s the least he can do.”

“How long have you been trying? Don’t give up, Ben and I took two years, but look at us now…”

“How many do you want?”

“Are you still going to work?”

“Kids? So soon?”

“Who’s having a baby? Uncle Steve?!”

“Vivian?” You called, flagging Steve’s mom over.

You took the bottle of previously passed on wine and gave yourself a more than generous pour, and Steve whispered, “Baby, I thought that alcohol could affect your…”

The look you gave him had his mouth closing quickly, keeping his concern about ovulation and hormones to himself. You turned away from him, then answered every single question with grace and a grip on the glass that made Steve gulp around his own drink. 

Eventually, the table settled into topics that gave you a small reprieve. 

Steve leaned closer, lips almost to the apple of your cheek and you turned, so his kiss was cut off, mouth parted in surprise as he blinked at you. He spoke softly, fingers reaching for yours as he did, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Should we give you two some privacy?” A quip and waggled eyebrows from the other side of the table, and you plastered on a perfect smile and faked a laugh, poured yourself more wine and Steve’s shoulders deflated. 

You still hadn’t spoken to him. Dinner passed, and then dessert, and then coats were being pushed on and kids wrangled into cars for the midnight service. 

Steve managed to get you close to him in the very backseat of one of the vehicles. He kept his eyes on your profile as you stared straight ahead. 

“Are you going to ignore me the entire night? I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. 

Your gaze turned to him finally and your chest ached from how apologetic he looked. And honestly, you were over it as quickly as it happened, and the glasses of wine helped, and you were ready to say so. But then Steve’s fingers brushed your knee, up and down and back up your thigh. They nudged at the hem of your skirt, testing. His other fingers curled around your neck, words dipping even lower, soft and for only your ears. 

“How else can I tell you I’m sorry, honey?”

Steve’s thumb swiped down your neck, soothing and far too close to your racing pulse. It’d been sort of easy for him lately, and the thrill of making him think you were mad, the chance to make him sweat a little, to work for it, had your underwear growing wet. 

“We can talk about it later, when we get home,” you whispered, sternly. 

Steve nodded earnestly, until your fingers curled into your skirt, until the red, green and gold fabric pulled higher and higher. Your eyes remained on his until he had to look down, to see your black tights were not tights, but stockings. A sliver of supple skin revealed between plaid skirt and where they ended high on your thigh. The black lace disappearing as quickly as it was shown to him as your skirt dropped again, fanning nicely over your thighs.  

His tongue swiped over his lip, adams apple bobbing. He cleared his throat, voice a warning, “Baby-”

The car pulled to a stop, and you were out on the pavement with his family, heading into the church before he’d really even caught his breath. 

He watched you hang your coat, and help his nieces and nephews with theirs. His eyes traveled from the black heels up the black stockings that he now knew ended under your pretty Christmas skirt, curved around your thighs delicately and sinfully. He swallowed at the sight of red velvet over your breasts, at the memory of what happened last time you were here. 

It was easy to slip away as churchgoers caught up over coffee and doughnuts before the service, as kids became preoccupied in the Sunday school rooms with toys. You made your way down a dark hallway under the guise of the bathroom, and had to bite down on your smile as an arm slunk around your waist and pulled you into a room silently and quickly. 

Only lit by the soft light of the navy sky and moon outside, the room was obviously rarely used, a place for mismatched and forgotten things. Steve spun to face you, his fingers behind him clicking the lock closed with a barely audible, but still noticeable click. 

“Yes?” You prompted, folding your arms over your chests and hiding your delight at the way the movement made his eyes flit down to your breasts. 

Steve crossed the room in quick strides, hands finding your hips and tugging you to him gently as he spoke with sincerity. 

“Angel,” his nose traced down the bridge of yours, before he kissed the tip of it, “I’m sorry.” He kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your lips before he pulled away enough to look into your eyes again, so you could see how truly sorry he was. 

“I really didn’t mean to say it, it slipped out. I’m just so excited, and I didn’t even think…” 

“I know,” you offered quietly, as your fingers slipped into his hair, curling stray and unruly pieces behind his ears. Your eyes remained focused on your adjustments, sure that if you looked at his eyes for longer than two seconds, you’d forget you were “mad” and fuck him in a church again. You’d break and he’d have barely worked for it. 

Steve knew this, you think. 

Because your eyes caught the subtle twitch of his lips, the fake deep sigh, the way his head leaned forward until he was at your ear. Hot breath hitting skin in a way that had goosebumps exploding over your entire body, his voice sultry and low as he asked, “Can I make it up to you?”  

“Steve…” your half-hearted start to a protest you didn’t want to give lost as he dipped lower, pressing silk lips to your neck. 

His palms brushed over the curve of your breasts, they skated down your sides, lower and lower to your hips. As your head fell back, they circled to your ass, grabbing generous handfuls and squeezing as his breath grew sharper against your collarbone. Parted lips dragging across it, the tentative trail of his tongue warm and testing. 

“We…we’re in a church,” you gulped around the words, his kisses traveling up the column of your throat now as he nudged your feet backwards. 

“Didn’t stop us the last time.” Steve’s voice was shot, a goner the minute you showed him the stockings. 

Men were too easy. 

Your legs hit a couch arm, and Steve’s fingers grabbed for your jaw gently, thumb pulling at your chin so you had to look at him. Both of your chests moved rapidly, anticipating, as you fell deeper and deeper into the moss and honey in his iris’ - lost in the forest, stuck in the sticky trap. 

His other hand roamed to the hem of your skirt, pads of his fingers buzzing over the skin above the stockings as he pulled the fabric higher. His head cocked in a way that said he knew what he was doing, the ghost of a smile on his lips telling you he knew that you weren’t mad, not really, but he’d play your game anyways.  

“Let me make you feel good, honey,” his lips brushed over yours as he spoke. The chatter of people filling the chapel right outside grew louder, but his voice remained even and soft, “It’s the least I can do, don't you think?”

Maybe you were easy too.  

Because you were nodding, and he was easing you down onto the couch. Steve knelt before you, watching you carefully, hungry, as he pulled your heels from your feet, letting them fall to the ground. 

Your palms pressed to the cushion behind you as he lifted a leg, your words swallowed and caught somewhere in your chest with your breath as he kissed your ankle bone through the thin material. Steve kept his eyes on you, warm and greedy as he kissed up your calf, at your knee until he was at the top of the thigh high. He gently laid your leg back down, and then pulled at your waist until you were at the edge of the seat. 

“You gonna be quiet for me?” 

The nod of your head was pitiful, putty in his hands and from his words as he flipped your skirt up. Steve’s lips pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, sweet and in a slow way that had heat rising to your cheeks. Your body hot, spine turning to liquid as he nudged his nose into the damp black silk covering you, as his fingers curled into the waistband. 

Steve pulled them from you, sighing at the way they stuck to your lips. He slipped them down your legs, never letting his eyes leave the space between your thighs. He was taking his time, drinking you in with his eyes in a dirty gaze that had your entire body tightening, making you want him more than you ever had, erasing any sort of rationality or thoughts from your brain other than him and this.

His fingers tugged at your hips, squeezing possessively until a whine bubbled out of you, his name a desperate whisper, barely audible over the choir singing. 

He hummed when you spread your legs wider for him, pressing against the couch as he leaned in. His hands roamed down and back up your thighs, until they were spreading you. 

His thumbs held you apart, mouth a ghost over your cunt. Hot breath exhaled against slick lips that had your toes curling and your lungs somehow forgetting how to take in air. He had you on the ledge, and he hadn’t even started. 

Steve pushed closer, the tip of his nose a slow drag through your slit, his lips skimming over your folds behind it, tasting, testing.

His tongue finally made contact with you, a long, slow lick from your entrance to just below your clit, making you wait, making your fingers dig into the cushion and your eyes look towards the heavens.  

Steve did it again, painfully slow, the hot and wet glide of his tongue along you sinful. Over and over, flat, broad strokes of it, tasting every bit of you except for your clit, getting you higher and higher, closer to bliss without giving it to you.  

You were throbbing, an insistent and buzzing pulse under your skin demanding to be felt, demanding to break. It felt like your ears were crackling with static like the speakers the pastor was now giving his sermon in. 

Steve lifted on your hips that wiggled, caressing over the top of your ass. He stopped his movement with his tongue, panting over your cunt, letting his mouth hover against your glistening lips. 

Your chest grew heavier with each rise and fall of labored breathing as you watched Steve’s tongue flick out, tracing the curves of you and letting his nose drag and nudge behind it. Teasing and taunting, pulling every last drop of want out, your body taut and ready to snap. 

Then he looked up at you.

His cheeks flushed pink, and pupils blown wide, lit up in glittering moonlight streaming in through old and warped glass, he looked like something holy and angelic between your thighs. As if he were worshiping you, praying on his knees at your feet.

The grip he had on your hips shifted, pushing down your thighs and spreading you wider, and his voice was raspy as he asked, “You forgive me?”

Your head nodded once, fingers reaching for his hair to pull him closer, desperate for his mouth to be back on you. Your own voice shot, a pitiful whine as you begged him, “Please, need your-ohmygod.”

Steve’s spit hit your clit, making your thighs go to snap close, but his palms held you open forcefully. He wasn’t an angel worshiping, he was unholy, he was sin, he was filthy as he kept eye contact with you and dipped his mouth over you again. 

His lips molded around your pulsing nerves, tongue flicking out in a rhythm that had your entire body lit up, vibrating, fraying and sparking. His hands pushed at your thighs that resisted him, he moaned against you as you fell forward. Your fingers yanking in his hair as your hips moved against his face. 

Steve’s exhale was sharp as he released, sinking lower and dragging his tongue over your slit again. He was faster now, keeping his tongue flat against you as he lapped at your cunt, nose nudging against your clit over and over again as you rocked against it. 

“Fuck, Ste-,” your hand slapped over your mouth and your eyes widened, but Steve didn’t let up. You tugged on his hair, whimpering, and his hand rose, finger pulling at your pouting bottom lip until you were parting for him. You moaned around the black silk he shoved into your waiting mouth. 

He doubled down then, tongue prodding at your entrance, fast and precise licks up to your clit he kept working at with his nose. Steve’s heavy lidded gaze up at you had you crying out around the fabric, your chest crumpling over his head as you grinded down against his nose, unraveling for him. 

Tears pricked behind your eyes, skin hot as you came around nothing but his tongue, he hadn’t even slipped a finger into you. Steve held your waist now as you arched, letting your thighs finally close around his face as he licked over you, humming against your sensitive nerves as he greedily took in everything you gave him. 

He pulled away eventually, nose and lips skimming down your thigh until he was at your stockings. He pressed his cheek to your knee and looked up at you. Your underwear pulled from your mouth and crumpled in your fingers, your eyelashes fluttered as you tried to keep your eyes open, chest rising and falling ragged. You looked at him under your straining eyelids, warmth and affection and something far too sweet for what you two just did behind your gaze. 

The choir was singing again, Silent Night, and your fingers pressed to your lips, hiding a smile and a giggle.

He hadn’t meant to say it, but he was kind of glad he did. 

[omgrachwrites]

Date Night - Carmy Berzatto

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You and Carmy go on your first date.

Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this, please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

part two

Natalie glanced at you as you walked into the living room to show off your outfit, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Her facial expression was the same as you twirled in front of her, showing her the outfit from all angles.

“What do you think?” you asked as you smoothed your hands down your dress.

Nat laughed, “sweetie, you look beautiful.”

You pouted at her, “you’ve said that about every single outfit I’ve chosen,” you look down at the dress.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, “because it’s true, you’re beautiful. You could wear a bin bag and Carmy would still be crazy about you.”

You smiled as you sat next to her, your date with her brother wasn’t until later on tonight but you were nervous. You really wanted this to go well and you didn’t want to do anything that would screw this up.

“I’m nervous, Nat,” you admitted and she smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Carmy really likes you, Y/N,” she sighed as her phone buzzed and she checked it, “damn, I gotta go, they need me at the restaurant. Good luck tonight, you’ll do great,” she smiled and pulled you into a hug.

All day you lounged around, doing nothing, last night you’d had the shower where you scrubbed and shaved everything and everywhere. You weren’t expecting anything to happen, not on the first date – Carmy would be too shy to make a move – but you just wanted to be prepared. Finally, it was time for you to get ready, you curled your hair and applied your makeup light and pretty, with the help of a large glass of wine.

When Carmy knocked on your door, you slipped your heels on and grabbed your bag before pulling open the door. Your throat went dry as you looked up at him. He looked so gorgeous, he was wearing a tight white button down shirt that accentuated his muscles and over the top he was wearing a black suit jacket. He was holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. His cheeks were flushed as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

He smiled as he ran a hand through his curls, “you look amazing.”

“Thanks Carm, so do you.”

The redness on his cheeks only deepened as he held out the flowers, “these are for you.”

You smiled as you took the flowers, “they’re beautiful, come in and I’ll put them in some water,” you let him in as you arranged the flowers in a vase, “you want a drink?” you glanced over your shoulder.

He shook his head as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “nah, don’t want to miss the reservation.”

You smiled as you finished arranging the flowers and took his hand, “then let’s go,” you flushed as he linked your fingers together.

The restaurant was just an uber ride away and Carmy held your hand as he helped you out of the car. The restaurant looked beautiful – and fancy – you felt a little out of place. Carmy must have noticed because he squeezed your hand and you looked over at him.

“You okay?”

You smiled as you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “yeah, as long as I can take you to my favourite dive bar afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grinned.

At first, you thought it was going to be awkward but as you were sat at the best seat in the house the both of you launched into conversation just as easily as you always did.

“How’s the restaurant?” you asked as you took a swallow of wine.

Carmy rolled his eyes with a quick laugh, “everyone’s at each other’s throats but they seem to be working together well enough. How’s the pasta?” he grinned with a twinkle in his gorgeous eyes.

“It’s good,” you nod as you eat a forkful, “but your pasta is my favourite.”

He grinned as he nudged his leg against yours, “you’re my favourite.”

For dessert the both of you shared a dish of lemon sorbet with a couple of vodka shots poured into the bottom. By the time you reluctantly let Carmy pay the bill – he wouldn’t let you split it – the both of you were pretty buzzed as you stumbled to the bar. The bar was a typical dive, the floor was sticky and it stank of beer but you felt comfortable, and you could tell that Carmy was too.

He thanked you as you handed him a pint of beer and he nodded over at the pool table, “you wanna play?”

“I’m rubbish at pool, I can barely hold a pool cue,” you laughed.

“C’mon, I’ll show you,” those big blue eyes talked you into it and you relented as he led you over to the pool table.

He set up the table and you couldn’t stop watching as his tattooed fingers rearranged the balls and he gave you a lazy, lopsided grin, “you wanna break? I’ll show you how.”

You smiled, “sure.”

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he took your hands in his, he stood behind you and showed you how to properly hold the pool cue. He leaned over you, just like they did in the movies and with Carmy’s help you managed to break.

“There you go,” he whispered in your ear and tingles shot up your spine as he kissed your cheek.

It was hard to keep up the pretence and you slipped up when you pocketed a ball. Carmy stood there staring at you with his mouth open.

“You lied! You’re hustling me!”

You laughed at his accusation, “fine, I’m not as bad as pool as I made out to be. And hustling is when you do it for money.”

He rolled his eyes with a grin, “you owe me.”

You ended up winning the game of pool and Carmy looked at you with a look of mock disappointment on his face as he shook his head, “I am so disappointed, that you won by cheating.”

You giggled, “you’re so dramatic. How’s this, I’ll let you pick your consolation prize?”

Carmy grinned as he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you deeply, you were in shock and you hesitated for a split second before you kissed him back. You placed your hands on his firm chest as you pulled away just a little, “wow that’s funny, that’s exactly what I was gonna pick for my winning prize.”

He smirked as he cupped your cheek, “what an amazing coincidence,” he chuckled as he wrapped a hand in your hair and kissed you again, this time he snuck his tongue into your mouth. That’s how you spent the rest of the night, playing pool and making out.

He walked you up to your apartment, his fingers laced through yours, “I had a really good time tonight, Carm.”

“Me too, even if you did cheat at pool.”

You laughed, “I did not cheat!” you got your keys out of your bag and you looked at Carmy, “you want to come in?”

Carmy smiled but shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, I’d end up doing something we’re not ready for,” he chuckled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “but I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon,” you nod and he leaned in to give you another breath taking kiss that made you feel like you were a teenager all over again.

[chronicrabbit]

Ok, but

Imagine Gareth getting ABSOLUTELY FED UP with watching Eddie and Steve moon over each other, convinced that it’s hopeless and completely oblivious that their feelings are, in fact, 100% mutual.

So he hatches a plan to, let’s say, hurry things along.

It’s a Hellfire Night. All are in attendance in the Wheeler’s basement, including- of course- Steve Harrington himself.

The ex-jock had finally quit pretending he’d rather be elsewhere, allowing himself to watch the session unfold with obvious interest.

It was hard not to be interested in Eddie’s narratives.

They were playing a one shot as Eddie’s larger campaign was still in the works.

Their party had just stopped off to rest in a tavern and stock up on supplies, the perfect place for Gareth to put his plan into action.

“I’d like to look for some company for the night,” he stated, fixing Eddie with a smirk.

As expected, Eddie didn’t so much as blink as the rest of the party burst into giggles, leaning over the table with a smirk of his own.

“Very well. Roll perception for me.”

Gareth does, proudly calling out a 17.

Eddie nods.

“You glance toward the mostly empty bar where the barkeep is pouring a glass of fine wine for a fair elven maiden. Her hair seems to glow a pale golden hue, and-“

“Tell me about the barkeep. What does he look like?”

Eddie’s eyebrows quirk, the first sign that he’s maybe catching on to Gareth’s intentions.

Still, he continues on.

“He’s… a half elf with dark hair and eyes, and a pale scar bisecting his face.”

“Is he handsome?” Gareth presses, earning a further raised brow from Eddie.

“He’s a half elf,” the DM replies dryly.

Gareth grins.

“I approach the barkeep with a charming smile, leaning on the bar and tossing down a couple gold pieces from the pouch on my belt.

“A flagon of mead, if you please.”

Gareth attempts to school his expression into something flirtatious.

Eddie snorts but pulls himself together fast, falling into character with the ease and practice of a master.

“That’s a rather bold display of wealth, hero. You should be cautious lest someone try to take that from you,” he says in a smooth tone.

Steve straightens in his seat, his interest very clearly piqued.

It’s almost too easy.

“Is that a threat?” Gareth says in a low voice, his smirk widening.

Eddie presses a hand to his heart, feigning very mild offense tinged with amusement.

“Not at all. Simply advice. This is a dangerous town after all.”

“Pity,” Gareth shrugs, leaning his elbow against the table and meeting Eddie’s gaze dead on.

“I wouldn’t have minded a threat from one as fair as you.”

“Roll charisma,” Eddie orders, eyes twinkling with mirth as Gareth snatches up his d20 and shakes it in his fist.

He can see Steve from the corner of his eye, doing his utmost to look unaffected, but Gareth could tell he was some sort of flustered if the way he was shifting restlessly in his seat was anything to go by.

Delightful.

Gareth takes in a breath before he looks down at his die.

“Nat 20, baby,” he announces much to the wild amusement of the party.

Eddie raises his hands to cease the excited chatter, leaning in on both elbows to meet Gareth’s gaze with a positively sultry look of his own, large eyes half lidded, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Would you not?” he questions with a mockingly innocent tone, tilting his head so his dark curls fall down over one shoulder.

“Threats are not typically well looked upon unless you have a- heh- preference toward punishment.”

As Mike and Lucas snicker, Gareth watches Steve.

His cheeks are tinged a noticeable pink, his eyes glued to the carpet beneath his shoes as if it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

Can’t have that.

Gareth decides to up the ante.

“And what if I do? What advice have you for that, fair one?”

Eddie eyes him up and down in character, leaning in even closer until he’s inches from Gareth’s face.

“The barkeep looks you up and down consideringly. He seems to like what he sees as he slams down your flagon of mead and pushes it and your gold over toward you.

“I would advise you finish your drink and head up to your room for the night,” Eddie finishes with a sly and salacious smirk, taking hold of Gareth’s chin with his calloused fingers.

“I’ll find you when I want you.”

And there it was.

Steve Harrington’s breaking point.

Steve stands quietly from his spot in the couch, muttering a quick excuse before rushing up the steps and out of the basement.

No one else seems to notice but Gareth.

It’s not long after Steve’s hasty retreat that Eddie calls for a break, everyone dispersing to seek out snacks and bladder relief.

Gareth makes his way upstairs after relieving himself, intent on rewarding his hard work with a slice of Mrs. Wheeler’s chocolate cake when a sound from outside catches his attention.

He approaches the window overlooking the backyard, slowly pulling the curtain aside to see…

Steve Harrington pinned against the side of the house with an armful of Eddie, their mouths connected in the most aggressive kiss Gareth has ever seen.

It looks like they’re trying their damnedest to eat each other, Eddie’s hands tangled in Steve’s hair, Steve’s shoved up the back of Eddie’s shirt.

Gareth holds back a snort at the loud thump that sounds as Eddie shoves his thigh between Steve’s legs, the ex-jock’s head smacking against the side of the house as he lets out a low groan.

With a self-satisfied grin, Gareth pulls the curtains closed once more, slices himself a nice big piece of cake, and trots back down the stairs to the rest of the party, pre-preparing an explanation for what exactly was keeping their DM.

The End 🖤

~Rabbit 🐇

[roosterforme]

Hands to Yourself | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Normally Bradley would encourage you to touch him as much as you want, but not when you've invited everyone you know over for a cookout.

Warnings: Smut and fluff

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

You and Bradley had been engaged for just over a week when you invited everyone you knew over to the house for a cookout. The two of you had a lot to celebrate, including Bradley's big promotion to Lieutenant Commander and his return to work after his injury. 

Bradley walked into the kitchen to find all of the food you were preparing for later that day. "Baby Girl, these people do not need anything fancy. We can just dump some beers in a cooler and serve them hot dogs." 

"Sangria and marinated chicken isn't fancy, Roo." You rolled your eyes. You weren't about to invite people over for dinner and then toss a bag of chips at them. Even if it was just the usual crowd.

"Nat and I once ate sushi from a gas station, so really whatever you want to do is fine," he told you, and you couldn't help but laugh. "I'll be outside setting up."

He kissed your cheek as you continued to cut up fruit for the sangria, and you watched him walk into the dining room. He tapped out a few notes on the piano before heading outside. Then you watched him through the kitchen window while he played with Tramp and got the patio furniture cleaned up. God, he looked so good. You knew he was still struggling with his new scars and his body image since his injury, but just looking at him had you practically drooling. 

Your period had ended, and you wondered if there would be time for a quickie once you finished up with all of the food. You rushed to get everything else ready. At least it was mostly things that needed to be grilled. You laughed and pulled out your I Love Meat apron for Bradley to wear while he was grilling. 

You mixed all of the sangria pitchers and tried a sample of each one. "Delicious," you said out loud before pouring yourself a full glass and taking it outside. "Do you want a drink, Roo?" you asked, taking a long sip. "It's insanely hot out here!"

"Yeah, just some water, Sweetheart," he told you as he was cleaning the grill. You watched him in his gray tee and gym shorts, his biceps working hard as he scraped and scrubbed with the wire brush. You bit your lip as he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Even the sweaty spots on his shirt were doing something to you right now. 

"What time is everyone coming?" you asked, finishing the rest of your drink in an attempt to keep yourself from touching him while he bent to pick up the propane tank. 

"In about an hour," he said, grunting as he tightened the tank in place with his big hands. He really had no idea what he was doing right now, and you ran back inside to get him some water. 

----------------------------------------

You put out some snacks while Bradley took a shower. You had been so tempted to join him in there, but everyone would be arriving shortly. You were a few sangrias deep at this point, and when your fiancé walked out sporting damp hair, a snug white tee shirt and gray chino shorts, you moaned. 

"I know what that noise means," he said, eyeing you with a smirk.

You pressed your lips together. "Call everyone. Call them and cancel. Please?"

"Baby Girl," he whispered, and you felt like your head was swimming. The wine was mixing with your neediness, and you were reaching for him. As soon as you pulled him down for a kiss that lingered and got your fingers under the hem of his tee shirt, someone started knocking on the door. 

"Let's pretend we're not home," you whispered against his lips. He chuckled and gave your butt a squeeze. 

"I'll take care of you later, Sweetheart. After everyone leaves."

You pouted in the kitchen as he walked to the front door. You recognized Maverick's voice right away, and you had to act totally normal in front of him, pretending you weren't thinking about his godson naked and inside you.

Soon your kitchen was filled with all of the aviators along with Cam and Maria. Everyone started to filter out to the backyard with drinks in their hands, but you pulled Bradley to the side and kissed him again.

"You look so hot right now," you told him, running your hand along the front of his shirt before letting it trail down his scarred left arm. "Good Lord, Bradley."

"Is this because we haven't had sex in a few days?" he asked in that raspy voice that made your eyes flutter closed. "I'll lay you on our bed later and take care of you. Don't I always take care of you?" He kissed your forehead before he strode outside. 

You whined and squeezed your thighs together, and then you poured another huge glass of sangria and went out to socialize. You talked to Cam and Maria for a while about work. Your lab was collaborating with their lab on an upcoming project, and you couldn't wait to see more of them every day outside of lunchtime. But you watched Bradley slip your apron over his head as he laughed with Payback, his big hands making quick work of tying it in place. 

"Want me to grab you a beer, Angel?" Jake asked as he walked past you, and you must have told him yes, because soon you were drinking both your sangria and a beer. Bradley was preheating the grill now, and you had to press your lips together to keep from making a seriously needy noise as he squatted down on the ground to open the tank valves. 

You finished both drinks and went to wrap your arms around his waist as soon as he stood up.

"Having fun?" he asked with a smile. The playlist you made was perfect, everyone was eating your snacks, and you could overhear pleasant conversations everywhere. 

"I'd be having more fun if my hands were down your pants," you told him, and he choked on his sip of beer. 

"Sweetheart," he gasped as he coughed. "Later." He turned away from you as Bob called his name, and you sighed as you started talking to Jake about his girl problems. 

After a few minutes, you were still shaking your head at him and sneaking glances at Bradley through your tipsy haze. "Jacob, just be less of a fuckboy."

"I don't know how!" he replied, but you had to bite your lip, because now Bradley was standing with his hand on his hip while he grilled the chicken you had prepared along with some burgers and veggie burgers. "The two of you are absolutely disgusting. You know that, right?" Jake drawled once he saw where your focus had drifted. 

"Mmm," you hummed in agreement before making a beeline toward Bradley. "You need anything, Roo?" you asked sweetly, slipping one hand inside the apron and stroking his belly before letting your hand glide lower. You watched him glance around to see if anyone was looking and you giggled.

------------------------------

Bradley grunted as your hand rubbed him through his shorts. "You need to knock it off," he whispered in as stern a voice as he could manage. Because God, your hand felt good on him right now. "Go find someone to talk to. I told you I will take care of everything you need later tonight." 

You just whimpered. Your cheeks were flushed, and he knew you'd had a few drinks. He had honestly never seen you this poorly behaved before. Thank goodness he'd already locked you down with a ring, because this was delightful. He had to reach for your hand and remove it from inside the apron, because you were refusing to listen to him. 

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, nodding at Fanboy when he asked if Bradley wanted another beer.

You looked up at him and licked your lips. "Sangria and lust. And hopefully you, soon."

Bradley tried his best not to laugh, so he pressed his lips together and nodded until he was able to speak. "You know we can't do that right now. Go talk to Nat."

He watched you pout and head away from him, your sundress swirling around your thighs. Great, now he was a little hard. He watched you conversing with his best friend, and he flipped the chicken before anything burned. Fanboy and Payback joined him at the grill and helped him get all of the food off when it was ready.

"Congrats again, Rooster," Fanboy said as he drank one of your fancy sangrias. "You two look so happy together. When's the wedding?"

Bradley glanced at you across the patio, and you were already looking at him. "We haven't made any solid plans yet. I'm hoping for this year though."

You winked at him, and he shook his head in response. He couldn't believe you. When he carried the grilled food to the table, and everyone started to dig in, he turned to face you. "Are you ready to behave now?" he asked you softly since everyone was gathered around the vicinity. 

"No, I'm still feeling a certain way about how sexy you look today."

He heard Nat snicker and look at him over her shoulder. "The two of you are a serious problem," Nat told Bradley. "Plus, I am honestly shocked you found someone who can stand your personality and your looks."

Bradley sighed. He supposed he was lucky, but he still shook his head at you. "Eat something to soak up all of the alcohol you drank. I'm going to wash my hands." Bradley barely made it inside and to the laundry room sink before you slipped inside the room with him. 

You closed the door and leaned against it, chewing on your bottom lip and eyeing him up and down. Bradley slowly dried his hands, taking a moment to wipe his brow with the paper towel before throwing it away. 

"You're acting like a brat," he told you, but that just made you gasp. "You're being a bad girl."

"Oh my god," you moaned, and he knew he wasn't getting out of this room unless he took care of you. "I am so horny, Roo. I don't know what it is about you today! Or maybe it's because we're engaged, but I just... I can't...."

He smirked at you and nodded toward the washer and dryer. "Put your hands on top of the washing machine." He watched you do as you were told, and when he pressed the front of his body against your backside, you pushed back making him groan.

---------------------------

"Please," you whispered, and when Bradley's right hand reached up the front of your dress, you wiggled back against him.

"I can't believe you today," he growled next to your ear, his mustache brushing you softly. His fingers traced your slit through your underwear before he reached his entire hand down the front and circled your clit. "I told you to wait."

"I couldn't," you moaned. He worked his fingers through your wetness and he groaned. "Are you going to fuck me?"

"No," he said, sliding one finger inside you. 

"Why not?" you asked as he held you snug against him and used a second finger to fill you up. 

"Because that's what you want me to do."

You gasped as he started to pump his fingers into you, fucking you with his hand. His left forearm was wrapped around your breasts, and the veins bulging in the back of his hand had you feeling wild. 

"Please, fuck me with your cock," you gasped, but he was grinding your clit with the heel of his hand now. He knew exactly what you liked.

"No." he told you again, his voice firm and unwavering as his breath teased your ear. "You know I'm never quick, and we only have a minute. And frankly, I don't think I should be rewarding this behavior." 

"Ohhh," you moaned, and he hissed as your ass bumped him while he worked his fingers in and out. 

"You're such a filthy little thing, Baby Girl. Gonna have my hands full for the rest of my life."

You were so close now, you were squeezing your eyes closed as the wave of tension inside you grew. "You asked me to marry you."

Bradley grunted. "Of course I did. I love you. Even when you act like a needy little princess."

You bit your lip and let your head fall back against his shoulder as he rubbed his thumb across your clit, making you clench around him.

"You cum for me right now, and later tonight, I'll spread you out on our bed and do you the way you deserve." 

You were whining and gasping for air, your fingers bending against the top of the washing machine as you came. Your skin felt so hot from the combination of sangria and Bradley's attention. When he withdrew his fingers, he brought them up to your mouth, and you licked and sucked them clean. 

"You better behave now," he threatened, grinding himself against your backside before leaving you alone in the laundry room. 

------------------------------------

Bradley watched you make your way back outside on shaky legs. Nobody seemed any wiser; the two of you had been inside for less than ten minutes together. You looked at him as he took a bite of his burger, and the soft smile on your lips had him smirking back at you. You absolutely owned his heart and his body, but he still couldn't believe your behavior while you had company over. 

As soon as everyone had finished eating and drinking and the sun had set, your friends started to leave. Bradley watched you saying goodbye to Coyote and Bob, the last two stragglers. 

"Everyone's gone," you told him, standing under the strands of fairy lights that you had hung up outside. 

Bradley just looked at you for a few seconds, your ring sparkling on your finger. "Go get in bed and wait for me," he said. Now his voice was deep and needy. He watched you smile and dash inside. 

Bradley shook his head and cleaned up some of the food and dishes, making several trips into the kitchen. He decided he'd make you sweat for a few minutes, make sure you were even more worked up for him. He washed his hands and started to unbutton his shorts as he walked into the bedroom. 

And there you were, curled up in bed with Tramp. Both of you were snoring softly, your cheeks still flushed from all the wine you'd had to drink. Bradley just watched you sleep for a moment before he sighed and walked around the bed. He gently extracted the worn out dog and set him down on his own bed. Then Bradley covered you up and kissed your forehead before he got himself ready to go to sleep next to you. 

----------------------------------

Thanks for reading Roo and Baby Girl! I hope you liked this one where she was being a bit of a brat...

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[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

i'll be home for christmas

bradley bradshaw x reader

prompt: bradley has been on a mission the past couple of weeks and as christmas approaches y/n becomes more lonely. she decorates their apartment as she awaits his return...

warnings: none, just cute ;)

an: hi guys!! this is my first post hope you love it! i will be taking requests for rooster or hangman and if you're intrested in f1 lando norris and charles leclerc! i def need ideas so please comment!

A cold breeze makes its way into the apartment as y/n attempts to hang the last string of lights on the tree. The sound of waves crashing on the shore almost drowned out the sound of Nat King Cole’s A Classic Christmas playlist. Y/n peaked out of the window, the sun was quickly setting. Bradley was set to arrive home any day now. Christmas was a holiday that they had not yet spent together over the past two years; Bradley was either on a mission or stuck having a late night on base.  She stepped down from the chair she was balancing on and poured herself a glass of wine. She had been slowly decorating more and more each night, hoping that she would be staying up late enough to greet Bradley when he came home. She never knew what his mood would be when he got home, but always tried to keep a smile. She had put on green, plaid pajama pants and a tighter black long sleeve. She heard the sound of giggles outside the balcony door. Y/n peeked out, seeing a family of three spending their Christmas Eve together. She grabbed a plate of cookies off of the counter, not wanting them to all go to waste as she could not eat them all. She slipped on a pair of uggs and walked downstairs. She waved politely. The family lived a couple apartments down. “Cookies?” 

The mom bent down. “Go get a cookie.” She tickled her daughter before the little girl shyly approached y/n. She grabbed a sugar cookie with red, green, and white sprinkles.

“Good choice!” y/n smiled before looking back up at the two adults. 

“Brad coming home soon?” The man asked.

“He said he would be home between December 20th and December 26th…” She sighed, “So hopefully in the next couple of days.”

“If you want to come over tomorrow we wouldn’t mind.” The woman smiled.

“It's alright.” y/n shook her head. “I just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas!” She bid them goodnight and let herself back into the lonely apartment. She shut the balcony door before taking a step back to appreciate the Christmas scene she had set for herself. A moment of appreciation quickly turned into a moment of loneliness. The room was dark except for the accent of faded-white Christmas lights and candles. She wanted her boyfriend with her. His perfect golden skin, infectious laugh, and comforting smell. She sat down at the piano he had and their first memories together flooded her mind. She had moved in with him a week after she convinced him to buy the piano. He knew he was in love as soon as she pointed out the piano. It had faded wood and the paint on the black keys had just about dissipated.

“This one is perfect.” She ran her fingers along the keys.

His heart dropped as he studied the piano. “This looks like the one my dad would play when we went out for food at this one diner…”

“Then you need it!” She smiled at him. “It's gotta be a sign.” All he could do was stare at it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna go see how much I can negotiate the price.”

He watched her as she debated with the store owner. She waved Bradley over with an angsty look. “He agreed to lower it by 20%, think that's fine?” She crossed her arms.

“Yes.” He was determined to have the piano. “I’m going to be broke after this.”

“Christmas is coming up.” She declared. “So I’m obligated to put some money in for this.”

“No-”

“Yes.” She nodded. As she put their money together Bradley noticed her eyes latch onto a silver necklace with a red heart. He watched as she read the price, sighed, and then continued to count the money owed for the piano.

She was now slumped over it, attempting to find a tune. She set her wine glass on a side table and glared at the keys. They hadn’t been touched in weeks. The sound of laughter and singing hadn’t echoed off the walls in what felt like decades. She wished the piano could comfort her the way Bradley did. Tears filled her eyes, but had not yet fallen as she realized the Christmas songs playing on her speaker had stopped. She put on a new playlist before shuffling into she and Bradley’s bedroom searching for a sweater. She opened the closet door, grabbing a gray sweatshirt. She and Bradley’s separate sides of the closet had now just blended into one wardrobe. She pulled it over her head, prepared for another long night of finding a show to binge. Y/n grabbed a blanket and went to clean the Christmas plate she ate dinner on. Being alone made her envy the times she had to clean double the dishes. The sound of the sink running overpowered the sound of the front door unlatching. She set the plate down in the sink, sighing before blowing out a candle. Thump. A duffel bag landed on the floor and her attention was diverted. The tired eyes of a familiar pilot greeted her as she rushed herself into his arms. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly, one hand running through the hair on the back of his head. His arms caged around her waist as he kissed the side of her face, mustache tickling her. “Merry Christmas, baby.” He whispered in a tired, raspy voice. 

“Merry Christmas,” she breathed, pulling away to look at him with glassy eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” He let out a breathy laugh, obviously exhausted. “I couldn’t get you anything really nice, but I picked something up on the way home…” He placed his forehead against hers. 

She kissed him. “You didn’t need to get me anything.” He nodded, but retreated to his duffel bag, grabbing a green box from inside it. 

He placed it in her hands before bringing them down to hold her waist. “Nothing was really open this late, but-”

“Shhhhh….” She hushed him. She opened the box to find a sticker and a silver necklace.

“The sticker has the exact plane I fly on it, so that you can stick it on your phone case and look at it when you miss me. It was dumb, but it was at the 24/7 gas station.” She stayed silent, taking the necklace out. “Now that…” He cupped his hand around hers, taking the necklace into his own hand. “I’ve had for a while.” He hooked it around her neck. It was a simple necklace, but had a tiny red heart that fell right between her collarbone.

“Bradley…” Her voice caught. “Thank you.” She kissed him again. 

“God I’ve missed you.” He embraced her again.

[togrowoldinv]

Weekend Trip

WandaNat x Female Reader

You’re set to marry Wanda, but when you meet Natasha things begin to change. One weekend away makes the three of you face your feelings for each other

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (W, N, R receiving), fingering, flirting, and smoking

Note: So, I watched match point today and got obsessed with Scarlett’s character. This Nat is loosely based on her. Enjoy this!

WandaNat Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You take one last glance in the mirror and walk out of the room. Down the stairs, you can hear the bustle of the party.

Another one of your friend’s ritzy parties that you don’t want to attend, but you do so anyway. After all, the woman you are set to marry is waiting amongst the crowd.

Before you enter the party, you hear people chatting in the game room. It piques your curiosity, so you step into the room. Standing across from a man at the table tennis game is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. The man moves out of the room, and you see all of her. She’s wearing a white dress and an updo that leaves her neck exposed.  

“You up for a game?” she asks, her voice velvety.

“Sure,” you reply.

She looks you over as she picks up the paddle again. Two hits back and forth and you blast the ball past her.

“I’m impressed,” she says.

“May I?” you ask, walking to her side of the table.

She nods and smirks at you. You take her paddle and place it in her hands. Your front brushes against her back as you help her hit the ball.

“You play a good game,” she says.

The blonde turns to you and your shoulders now brush. She is close enough that you can smell her perfume.

“And you have perfect lips,” the words fall out of your mouth easily.

She seemingly pulls a cigarette and lighter out of thin air. It shouldn’t be as alluring as it is as she takes a few drags of the cigarette.

You gaze into each other’s eyes but are interrupted by someone walking into the room.

“Natasha, there you are,” your friend, Carol says.

“Hey babe,” Natasha, you know her name as now, says.

Natasha pulls away from you a bit and Carol kisses her.

“This is my fiancée, Natasha. Nat this is my friend y/n,” Carol introduces the two of you.

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

“Likewise,” she returns.

Carol and Nat slip into their own world briefly and you feel out of place. You excuse yourself to the party where you find your girlfriend.

“Hey Wanda,” you approach the woman. She smiles and throws her arms around your neck in excitement.

“I missed you,” Wanda says.

“I missed you too.”

You kiss the woman and when you pull away, you’re met with the eyes of Natasha. You shake off her gaze and direct your attention back to Wanda. The rest of the party goes by without much of any issues.

It’s not until the next week when you see Natasha on the street that things get complicated. You walked with her and waited outside for her to finish her audition. She comes out after and asks if you want to get a drink.

A few drinks in, you both get lost in conversation with each other.

“So, you’ve got it made with Wanda,” Natasha comments.

“Do I?”

“Yeah, I’d say so. You know Carol also works with Wanda’s dad’s company. Quite the set up. If you play it right, you’ll be good for life,” Nat says.

“And how could I play it wrong?”

Natasha chuckles and takes another sip of her drink. She leans over the table a bit and her breasts spill out of her shirt. She doesn’t miss the way your eyes follow her movements.

“You could make a pass at me,” Natasha says.

“What makes you think I’d do that?”

“I’m aware of the affect I have on women and men. But I prefer the women.” Natasha practically giggles at her words. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Right,” you say. “Let’s get you a cab.”

You go home to Wanda. She is listening to music and cooking when you get there.

“Hey baby,” Wanda greets you. “Good day?”

“Interesting one. Glad to be home,” you say.

You drop a kiss on her cheek and pour wine for both of you. After dinner, Wanda settles on the couch and opens her arms for you. You fall into them and start a movie together.

Wanda turns down the volume at a boring part and turns to you.

“So, Carol invited us on a trip with her and Natasha,” Wanda says.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My papa offered us the house upstate. Do you want to go?”

You mull it over. A weekend trip with your girlfriend and the woman you’ve been feeling attracted to lately probably isn’t the best idea. But when Wanda wants to do something, you must say yes. That much you know.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree.

“Perfect. We leave tomorrow,” Wanda says. Her voice is cheery, and you know she really wanted to go.

The next day comes quickly and you and Wanda drive upstate. When you arrive, Natasha is there on the porch. She is wearing a purple button up shirt and smoking a cigarette as per usual.

“Hello Natasha!” Wanda greets her. Nat shares the greeting and hugs her.

“Where’s Carol?” You ask.

Nat winces at the name. “She’s not coming. We- um- we broke up.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Wanda jumps in first.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Nat.”

“It’s okay. We probably should’ve canceled this weekend, but Carol insisted I still come,” Natasha says.

“We’re glad you did. I’ll take our stuff to the bedroom. Y/n, can you and Nat get dinner going?” Wanda asks.

You both agree and head inside. Nat cuts vegetables as you get started on the meat. Wanda joins and you all settle at the dinner table once the cooking is finished.

Dinner is entertaining as you jump from topic to topic. You learn a lot more about Natasha and even about Wanda. Under the table, you take any chance you get to touch Wanda. By the time it’s over, Wanda is practically desperate for you.

But you hold fast. You turn on a movie as you sit on the couch with Natasha on one side and Wanda on the other. The blonde tries not to notice the way your hand is under the blanket and Wanda is randomly letting out soft moans.

“Maybe we should go to our room,” Wanda suggests after she realizes she’s moaning particularly loudly.

“And leave Natasha out?” You ask the question loud enough for both women to hear it.

Wanda gasps but she leans over to see how Natasha reacts. She sees fire in her eyes.

“That would be rude of us. Natasha, would you like to join us in the bedroom?” Wanda asks.

You slip the blanket off her lap to reveal your hand brushing over Wanda. Standing up, you offer Wanda your hand and you walk towards the bedroom.

Natasha doesn’t say anything, for once rendered speechless. But she follows you and Wanda.

“You can just watch for a minute,” you say to her.

Not waiting for a response, you pull Wanda in for a deep kiss. Her tongue brushes against yours. You waste no time slipping her panties down her legs and pulling her dress over her head.

Natasha watches as you devour Wanda. You lay down and bury your face between Wanda’s legs. Nat scoots closer to you and when you lift your head from Wanda’s pussy, Natasha takes her chance to kiss you.

Those perfect lips of hers dance with yours as she tastes you and the woman that’s on your tongue. You run a hand through her blonde hair as you kiss her deeper.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Wanda moans out.

“Yeah baby?” You ask. You keep your hand in Natasha’s hair and pull her down in between Wanda’s legs with you.

Your tongues mingle as they move through Wanda’s folds. Natasha takes Wanda’s clit between her fingers as you continue to use your mouth to please the woman.

“I’m gonna come,” Wanda mumbles.

“Come for us, Wanda,” Natasha says, her voice is deep with sensuality.

Wanda comes against your tongue and Natasha’s fingers. You lick her clean and Natasha kisses you quickly, wanting the taste of Wanda on her tongue again.

The blonde also leans up and kisses Wanda. Wanda groans and starts to open Natasha’s shirt. You reach up the back and unhook her bra as Wanda undoes the buttons.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say, kissing the exposed skin of her back and neck.

“I need you,” Natasha says. She turns her head for you to capture her lips in a kiss.

Wanda slips off Natasha’s pants and buries her face between her legs. Natasha gasps into the kiss and leans back further into you.

“Ride my face,” Natasha instructs.

You slip out from behind her and take off your pants and underwear. Straddling her, you place your pussy right over her lips. You face Wanda so you can see as your girlfriend expertly eats Natasha out.

Nat lets out soft moans of pleasure from Wanda’s ministrations and from the taste of you on her tongue. You pick up the pace and she hangs right with you.

“Just like that, Natasha. Fuck!” you moan out.

Natasha’s own hips begin to shake and the woman comes hard against Wanda’s tongue. The sight is enough to make you come as well. Natasha hums and the vibrations feel so good that you’re close to coming again. When Wanda kisses Nat’s hips up to her breasts, you come for a second time at the sight.

“She’s so good for us,” Wanda says. She kisses you and helps you off Natasha’s face.

You lay between the women and catch your breath. Wanda kisses your cheek softly and snuggles into your side. You turn to Natasha and reach out your other arm for her.

“Feeling better?” You ask her.

“Very much,” she replies.

Natasha leans in and kisses you softly. It feels so soft, so domestic.

You all fall asleep together peacefully. You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re focused on this weekend alone. Wanda and Natasha here with you is everything you need.