Cute Omg

dcnwismxqiwndibububfiwdniwdirfifmefijinwdejnwjdnwjdndwjenfiwfiwfiwfiurfnwinfiwjnfiwfnfnwefwjwefnijfnjrngf *ten page keyboard smash* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Double Trouble

Paring: Wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: Explicit themes, dom/sub themes, smut, dom!reader, sub!brat!Remus, sub!Sirius, subspace, mummy kink, overstim, uni!wolfstar

Word Count: 993

Description: Remus tries to punish Sirius while you are away. You catch them by surprise and decide to give Sirius a reward while Remus watches

A/N: Thank you for requesting nonnie! And, Thank you for being considerate!

Warning; NSFW !!

Whines and desperate gasps fill the walls of your small shared home. The smell of lust flies through the air. You put your bag down by the door and walk down to your bedroom but before you get there, you call out.

"Remmy, Siri! I'm home." It suddenly goes dead silent and there is a soft thud. You were already wise to their little ruse, but you wanted to see how they would try to hide it anyway. You make it to the bedroom door and push it open to see Remus on top of a naked Sirius with his hand over his mouth. A small pink bullet vibe sits next to them, still humming. "What do we have here?" you smirked. Sirius tried to speak but Remus' hand was still over his mouth.

"Siri was getting needy! He started touching himself so I-" you swiftly interrupted him.

"And who gave you that authority?" Remus gulped and put his head down. You got down to his eye level and grabbed his chin roughly.

"Answer me, slut." You said darkly. Remus went weak and out his hand lost grip on Sirius' mouth. Sirius quickly refuted what Remus had told you.

"Not true, mummy! Remus-" You hushed him.

"I know Siri, I know." You stroked his hair to soothe him. He whimpered at your touch. You turned back to Remus. "Get up." You ordered. Remus quickly followed your order. Sirius got back up on his knees with the weight of Remus no longer on him. He watched carefully as you ran your hands down Remus' flushed body. Remus tried to appease you pathetically.

"I'm really sorry, miss." He pouted.

"Oh, I know." You gave faux sympathy. "But, sorry isn't good enough." You pulled down his boxers and he whimpered as his cock slapped his stomach. "Were you expecting to be mean to poor Sirius and then just hide it when I got home? Huh?" He mumbled something shamefully and you slapped his thigh. He jumped. "Speak up."

"No, miss," he tried to conceal his face as it grew hot with embarrassment.

"No? Then, what?"

"I- I don't know."

"Y'know what I think?" His eyes timidly meet yours. "I think you wanted to get caught. You were gonna wear Siri out until I came home weren't you? Just so I can find you here and punish you," he fell silent. "Back on your knees." He followed that order just as quickly as the last. You walked to Sirius who adoringly fixed his eyes on you. "Siri?" you asked softly.

"Yes, mummy?" he answered smally.

"Why don't you be a darling and get mummy's strap out?" His eyes lit up and he scurried to fetch the dark blue dildo out of its place in your drawer and brought it to you carefully. Sirius loved your attention, but above all else, he loved your cock's attention. His eyes were fixed on you, but he was lost in a sappy sweet headspace. The straps of the dildo fit snugly on your hips, once you fastened the last belt. Sirius took this as a queue bow down in front of you with his ass high in the air. His weeping cock laid pathetically stiff between his legs. Remus looked on in agony as you pushed your large phallus inside of Sirius.

"Miss, please," Remus tried. You quickly hushed him.

"Hush, since you were so worried about Sirius being needy, I'm taking care of him for you." You started with a tender pace, slowly bucking your hips into Sirius. His was still sensitive from Remus' teasing but he was in heaven with you fucking him. You quickly turned to a brutal pace that left Sirius babbling 'please's and 'thank you's. You giggled at Siris' fucked out stated.

"Tell Remmy how good I fuck you Siri." You held his weak head up and had him make eye contact with Sirius. He looked up at the brunette with droopy eyes.

"Oh Rem," he gasped "S-so good," Remus' hot face looked like it was on the brink of tears.

"Aww, is something wrong Remmy?" He held his head down in shame and shook a 'no'. "This wasn't the punishment you were looking for huh?" Remus gave another 'no' "Maybe, this will teach you a lesson about messing with Sirius?"

"Yes, miss," he whimpered.

"Good."

"Mummy- so close," Sirius chimed in.

"Go ahead, cum for me Sirius." And, cum he did. The raven haired boy shook under you as he released all over the carpet. That was gonna a bitch to clean later, but you weren't worried about that. You were worried about Sirius coming down from his high.

You stroked Sirius' back as he tried to catch his breath. "That's a good boy Siri, so good for me." That's when you heard the sniffles. As you gently pulled out of Sirius, you looked up to see Remus looking down shamefully at his red-hot erection.

"Now, now," You soothed. You scooted over to the bed and stroked Remus' thigh. "There's no need for that." You took his touch-starved cock in your hand. He threw his head back and moaned pathetically.

"I'm sorry, miss." He sobbed out. You kissed up his neck and softly nibbled his ear.

"Isn't there someone else you should be apologizing to?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry Sirius! So sorry," Sirius was back on his knees and nodded

"I forgive you." Sirius bit his lip and scooted closer to the two of you. He is doing a terrible job at hiding the fact that he is eyeing Remus cock.

"Don't be shy Siri." You chuckled and Sirius slowly took Remus' in his mouth. You could already tell he was tipping over the edge. You had to pull poor Sirius off of him even though he was just getting started. You gave Remus a smirk when he looked at you baffled.

"You didn't think I was gonna let you off that easily did you?"

holy fuck

tan x reader heavy heavy smut maybe pwp 🤷🏻‍♀️

theyre on a stake out in a hotel room and she's about to go out to do something and she's wearing a really sexy outfit and he gets turned on and yeah

PLSSS 🙏🙏🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Yeah totally! I’m going through a very rough dry spell rn so I can basically only work in requests!! So keep sending them in. So sorry it took this long!!

Request also for the other characters I write for! Don’t hesitate!

Seduction

Pairing: fem!reader x Tangerine.

Synopsis: You’re about to go out and do your job and gather information when your boyfriend stops you from going out, too turned on for you to leave.

Warning: smut.

The hotel room was dark, only lit by the caresses of the moonlight slipping through the large windows. You were in the bathroom, naked, applying some makeup on your already beautiful face. Your eyes were wide, the mascara wand twirling on your eyelashes. The dress you were supposed to wear was hanging on the door, waiting. You had to go seduce an important politician, getting some information out of him. The plan was that you’d bring the him up to your room, and Tangerine would be waiting in the wardrobe, jumping out, and would press a gun to the man’s forehead.

You placed the mascara wand down, glancing at yourself in the glimmering mirror. You puckered your lips, adding a coat of red lipsticks to finish the look. You turned to your dress, slipping it off the hanger easily. It was black, tight, and had a thigh slight, which was dangerously close to revealing your crotch area, making it impossible to wear any type of panties with this type of dress. The dress was also too tight to wear any bras either, so you just slipped the flimsily piece of expensive cloth on, adjusting your hair before stepping out of the bathroom, leaving a haze of perfume behind you.

“Alright, all ready.” You chirped, walking to your suitcase, grabbing your heels from the plastic bag you had wrapped them in. Tangerine was sitting down on the bed, his muscular thighs spread in his blue dress pants. His long, tattooed fingers were holding a paperback delicately in his hands, the rings glinting in the sunset.

The minute your lilting voice reached his ears, he looked up from the pages, tearing himself away from the world in his head. His eyes widened when they landed on your figure, standing at the foot of his bed. You didn’t notice, busy checking your phone, newly acquired heels dangling in your hand.

“You look gorgeous, love.” You heard him say, his British accent familiar to your ears. “It’s taking all my self control not to come there and rip it off,” he whispered, standing up and gliding towards you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

You grinned, placing a hand on his thigh. “I know, baby. But after we get rid of the man, you can do anything to me.” You whispered, standing up, and gently grazing his ear with your red lips. He shivered, closing his eyes, and plopping back down where you had been a second before. You walked to the chair in front of him, aware Tangerine’s eyes were glued to your ass as you swayed past him. You didn’t mind, your heart fluttering.

You grabbed your heels, starting to slip them on. To aid yourself in putting on the torture traps fashion called shoes, you spread your legs, lifting them to close the clasp that danced mockingly around your ankles. The already short hem of the dress had slid down against your waist, revealing your bare center to Tangerine.

The moment he realized what he was looking at, all the thoughts he had in his mind vanished, the blood rushing to his cock, hardening it in his dress pants, leaving little to the imagination. The idea that you were going out to seduce another man before Tangerine himself, your boyfriend, could get a taste of you, was making him furious. His skin started to become warm, and his breaths became shallow. Tangerine threw the book on the bed, hearing it bounce a few inches away. He stood up, licking his lips and adjusting his vest, walking towards you.

You barely took notice, too concentrated on your shoe clasp, which wouldn’t close, slipping through your fingers like water. It was infuriating. Just as you were about to close it, making you finally ready to go, Tangerine lifted your leg, throwing it over his shoulder as he kneeled in front of you. The clasp jolted away, and the shoe almost slipped off. “Tangerine? What are you doing-”, your sentence was stopped when you felt the familiar sensation of your boyfriend’s mouth against your core, his tongue darting inside of you.

You hadn’t been aroused before, but the sudden entrance of his skillful tongue made you moan out loud, throwing your head back against the wall, his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. Tangerine lifted your other leg, gripping your thighs, eating you out like a madman. Your arousal soon started coursing through your body, your nipples hardening, as well as your clit peeking out between the folds. “Tan…what-what are you doing I need to go,” you stammered in between moans, grinding against his tongue, your hand tightening around the arm rest.

“You’re not going out of here until my cum is dripping down your leg.”Tangerine murmured against your lower lips, the vibration making you see stars twinkling in your vision. “You look so fucking sexy tonight, love. I can’t let you go out like that. Your mine, and I want that bloody politician to fucking know,” he hissed, his long fingers replacing his mouth as he talked, not wanting to leave you high and dry.

You barely heard him, the pleasure starting to wash over you like a tsunami. Your stomach started to coil, tightening in all the right places, making you clench tightly around his long fingers. Tangerine had made you scream and arch your back as you orgasmed so many times he could tell you were close, a proud glint dancing in his eyes. To give you the extra push you needed, he dived back in, adding his tongue to his dancing fingers. You had started wiggling so much, your heels had clattered to the floor, leaving a dent in the moquette, and the thin shoulder straps of the your dress tumbled down your arms, revealing your quivering breasts.

Tangerine reached one ringed hand to grope them, waiting for you to tip over the edge. He could tell by the way your tongue slipped out of your mouth, and your unsteady breath pattern that you were about to orgasm. You looked gorgeous, just as you always did, but pride roared in his chest, knowing he was the only one that make you look like this.

The pleasure was starting to cloud your vision, and your hand blindly tried gripping onto the wall, before you decided to drop it down into Tangerine’s curls, tugging. He grunted quietly, a wet patch starting to form on his pants. “Tan! Tan! I’m…coming,” you panted. Tangerine spread your legs, pressing your clit with his index finger. The coolness of his rings contrasted with the heat of your sweating skin.

“Let go,” he whispered, and not even a second later, your juices gushed out of you, coating his mustache. He licked his lips, tasting you. Tangerine stood up, letting you relax for a second, deciding to observe you instead. Your hair was messy, your makeup ruined; the mascara ran down your cheeks like black tears, and your lipstick was long gone. Your breasts were exposed, the nipples hardened. Your legs were spread as much as they possibly could, hanging over the armrests of the chair, giving him a perfect view of your swollen, leaking center, which still now trickled droplets of your arousal on the soaked leather of the chair. He grinned proudly, knowing he was the only one allowed on this earth to watch you come undone as prettily as you did. He had seen you like this so many times, and yet, he could never get enough.

Without hesitating, Tangerine unbuckled his belt. The soft sound echoed in the room. He quickly kicked off his dress pants, his boxers flying away with them. He unbuttoned his shirt and vest, his fingers were quick, missing a few buttons. He grunted in frustration, ripping his shirt open, the unopened buttons flying to the floor. You stared at him, unable to move, eyes focused on his abs. His cock sprang out, already hard. Your pussy clenched around nothing, aching to feel him.

Tangerine leaned down, aligning himself with your hips, before slipping inside you, bottoming out in one swift thrust. You cried his name out in pleasure, tears of pure satisfaction mingling with your mascara. “Your mine,” Tangerine whispered in your ear, nibbling on your sensitive lobe.

The words were a caress to your lust-ridden mind, and you nodded urgently, grinding your hips against his. “Always! Forever!” You cried, leaning down to lock your lips together.

The kiss was passionate, furious, sloppy. His lips were swollen, and you could taste yourself on them. Saliva started dripping out, a few droplets coating your breasts. His tongue was shoved down your throat, while yours was caressing his mouth. He stopped moving his hips for a second, wanting to enjoy the kiss. Tangerine’s large hands grasped the swell of your hips, your smaller ones were holding the nape of his neck, your thumb rubbing large circles on his skin.

Desperate for more, Tangerine tried getting closer to you, even though it was physically impossible. He thrusted deeper inside you, hitting your g spot. The pleasure made you moan in your boyfriend’s mouth, detaching your lips. A string of saliva connected the two of you. Tangerine smirked, his hair disheveled, his eyes blown wide with lust.

He held you tighter on the hips, starting to thrust in and out of you quickly, the chair shaking underneath you. You threw your head back, and Tangerine took the opportunity to pepper kisses on your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume. He loved it, and it made his cock twitch inside you.

You whimpered quietly, hand traveling down in between your bodies, pressing your swollen clit. Tangerine’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his hair sticking to it. He quickly shooed your hand away from your core, replacing it with one of his large thumbs, pressing down on your swollen bud of nerves.

You screamed, literally screamed, hands gliding down his back, leaving red, angry marks. “Yes, make it loud and clear for everyone in this fucking hotel that your screams are only for me,” Tangerine groaned, feeling that his own climax was caressing his back, approaching swiftly. “You close, babygirl?” He croaked, holding your flushed skin against his, feeling your breasts bouncing against his chest.

You nodded, not even trusting yourself to respond. Tangerine thought you would need a few more thrusts to get there, but the next time he sunk deep inside you, without warning, you wrapped around him tightly, clenching around his cock, screaming his name and orgasmed. It had been so sudden, Tangerine felt his orgasm be yanked out of him, and he fell against your neck, whimpering your name like a prayer, as he started pumping his seed deep inside you.

You inhaled deeply, encouraging him to finish, caressing his back, feeling the ridges your nails had created. After a few moments, Tangerine was spent, and went flaccid inside you, yet he didn’t pull out, looking up to gaze at you, caressing your make up-smudged cheek. “My gorgeous (Y/N).”

The words elicited a quiet laugh from your swollen lips. “Please, I look like I’ve been run over by six cars.”

Tangerine chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it looks like you were fucked good, which you were.” You slapped his chest, laughing.

The two of you basked in the sex afterglow for a few more seconds, before you needed to go get ready all over again. You couldn’t even walk properly and needed Tangerine to help you reach the bathroom which was literally five steps away.

•

After another thirty minutes, you looked just as you had before. You sprayed perfume on yourself again, glancing at the mirror. “How do I look?” You asked, turning to face Tangerine, who was sitting on the toilet, cleaning his gun, only wearing his pants. He smirked appreciatively, placing the weapon on the sink, and slapping your ass.

“You look so fucking sexy, my love,” he leaned down to kiss you, but you pressed a finger to his lips.

“Nope! No! If you kiss me, we’re fucking all over again.” You grabbed the purse from the floor, opening the bathroom door. “I’m going, Tan. I’ll text you when we’re coming back.”

Tangerine smiled at you, sending you a flying kiss. You sent one back, heading out the door and into the hallway. Tangerine leaned against he doorframe, watching you walk away. As he let his eyes glide to your ass, and to your legs, he noticed one, single bead of his cum sliding down the back of your exposed thighs. Tangerine grinned, licking his lips.

Oh, this would be a fun night.

oh

𝘰𝘩

this is how you know the fic is MPUAH! anyway so excited for the next parttttt

Reminds Me That There's A Room To Grow Part 2

A love unraveled and yet incomparable. Where are two people to go from here?

(a/n: Here is part 2! I am so glad everyone is enjoying this so far, I've had a lot of fun writing it and getting to be creative! I’ll see everyone next Monday for installment 3 - can’t wait to hear everyone’s thoughts!)

Alexia wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected when she barged into her Mami's house the morning after seeing you at the event, dragging Alba behind her.  

But it definitely wasn’t this. 

She had explained everything to the two of them, with a carefully constructed amount of excitement. The footballer didn’t want to seem overeager, but she also found elation building within herself the more she thought about what had occurred. 

She had never expected to see you again, but there you were. Not only that, you weren’t with anyone. You still had the capacity to love her. There was a chance that Alexia hadn’t lost you, and she held onto that hope like a fire lit deep within her chest. She was almost delirious with relief at the realization that maybe the last nine years hadn’t been a total waste, that maybe she had just been waiting for you to return. It threatened to consume her, and she felt as though nothing could break the jouissance that filled her. 

At least, that was what she thought, until Eli and Alba brought her back to reality with their contradicting opinions. 

“She’s here you guys, she’s here in Barcelona. After all these years, Flori is still here and she wants to see me,” Alexia told her family, a brightness in her eyes that hadn’t been present in years. Despite this, Eli and Alba both had a frown on their face as they glanced at each other with skepticism. There was an awkward pause before Alba finally turned toward her sister with a charged look. 

“Ale,” Alba started lightly, trying not to sound too negative. “It has been nine years. Is it possible that Flori has moved on? She was the one who stayed behind, after all.” 

Her younger sister's words were pointed if not entirely incorrect. 

“Do you even know what happened? You never got an answer from her, and now she has shown up at this event with absolutely no warning,” Eli continued, a point that Alba quickly found herself agreeing with. 

When they had all left Madrid, Eli and Alba never expected to lose you so suddenly. 

Where Alexia was upset, they were angry. Angry that you had hurt Alexia for no logical reason, angry that you had done it when Alexia was at her most vulnerable, angry that you were no longer there. They had trusted you with Alexia’s heart, and you had betrayed them. Forgiveness was not possible in their eyes, not after what had occurred. 

Eli missed your mother, who had grown to become a dear friend. Alba had lost your younger brothers, Adan and Leo, who she had been close with. The breakup had been a clean break in the literal sense, but emotionally it had been so much more complex than that. There was nothing but frustrating feelings and a wretched sense of loss for all of them. Where Alexia had softened over time, becoming more sympathetic, the rest of her family had hardened in their negative feelings toward you. 

It was valiant if not feeble that the footballer tried to argue on your behalf. 

“She is here now, and time has passed. Why would I not at least give her the chance to atone or explain herself?” Alexia argued as she furrowed her brows. She looked between her sister and Mami, feeling disheartened by their reaction. 

“She gave up that right years ago Ale, when she let you leave in the midst of Papi dying and you moving to go to your dream club. She let you go, she never reached out, she never explained herself. Does that not bother you?” Alba pressed, unyielding in her temperament. 

“It has been a decade practically, and she never tried. She let you go, ripped up your heart into pieces, and walked out of that door with no remorse. We were all hurt by it, but you should be the most betrayed! She was supposed to love you, and she left you instead. Don’t tell me that hasn’t been the thing that stuck out to you the most in the past nine years?” Alba continued as her words lashed out like a whip, threatening to send Alexia’s sense of stability and hope crashing to the ground. 

“I have a chance to be happy, and you want me to give it away! Does that not bother you?” Alexia spat back as her defensiveness mounted. She stared her sister down with an intensity that usually was only found when she was playing football, not speaking to a member of her family. 

“No, what you have is a chance to be hurt again, and based on past events, that is exactly what is going to happen Alexia. Don’t be stupid,” Alba shot back, and Eli quickly placed a hand on her younger daughter's arm to stop her. 

The room came to a hard stop, but the brunette’s heart beat too fast in her chest to notice. 

Had she made a mistake in trying to be forgiving toward you? 

What if her family had a point? 

“Alba is critical but what she says is in your best interest Alexia. Regardless of how you felt about your relationship, Flori hurt you irreparably. Are you sure you want to let her in again? Is that a risk you want to take?” Eli inquired gently, her voice much softer than the loud argument of her daughters. Alexia took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm outwardly even if she felt anything but on the inside. 

You had hurt her a lot. And they said it was irreparable, but the brunette was beginning to wonder if only you could be the one to soothe the ache. It had been nine years, and she had never once come close to feeling the same way about anyone else as you. 

But you had hurt her. 

Her mother and sister were not wrong in their basis of judgment. Alexia was beginning to wonder if she had been too naive, too focused on not looking a gift horse in the mouth to see the points her family had laid out. 

The Catalan wondered if you would explain yourself fully to her if asked. She hoped dearly that the answer would be yes, but maybe she didn’t know you as well as she thought she did. 

Maybe it was stupid to trust you after all these years. As much as Alexia had wanted to be mad about everything, she could never bring herself to fault you for what happened when you were both eighteen years old. She had always just assumed that the reason had to be big for you to make the choice you had. 

But maybe it wasn’t like that at all. Maybe she had just been too trusting, too loving.

“I…I’ve spent the last nine years thinking about her, loving her, whether I wanted to or not. I know you aren’t as trusting as I am, and maybe I shouldn’t be so hopeful. But I at least want to know what happened to us that led to her making the decision she did. I need that, at the very least,” Alexia decided as her mother and sister nodded wearily. 

Alexia had always taken the blame for what had happened, even if it had been a subconscious realization. She had simply assumed that whatever it was had been her fault. The brunette must have done something for you to make such a drastic choice not to be with her after so long together. 

Eli and Alba’s arguments rang in her head, creating a commotion in her mind of conflicting information. Perhaps it wasn’t her fault, but rather something on your end. 

She wasn’t sure now. 

All that the footballer knew was that by the time she left her Mami’s house, she felt a lot more lost than she had last night. Lost, confused, and drained of any excitement that had been present just an hour previously. 

—

You had woken up the morning after the event in a trance, unable to place your own feelings. 

Had last night really happened? 

Your dress was still on the hanger, just as you had placed it last night. The ghosting of mascara under your eyes left proof of your makeup, proof of the tears you had shed on the walk home. 

All of these years later, and there she was. Somehow just as perfect and illustrious as you had remembered her to be. Nine years on and she remained unchanged, unyielding despite her newfound fame. 

You had changed a lot in those nine years. And truth be told, you thought often of the footballer, though you tried impossibly hard not to. After all, it had been you who had left. It had been your own choice to sever everything the two of you had. 

You had your reasons, sure, but it had still been you. The choice for you to make decisions in your relationship with Alexia had been revoked in that instance, and you forced yourself to try and forget all that you had lost. 

To try and forget the feeling of being held in her arms. To forget the way she curled around you as you slept, or crawled into your lap to take a nap after a long day of training. To forget how much you two laughed together, how exceedingly happy she had made you. 

You had lost all of that, and there was nothing that changed that fact. 

It was ostensibly clear why you had moved to Barcelona five years ago, even if you vehemently denied that the move was because of the Catalan you once called home. But her dream had been yours as well, and even if you were later, you still had to come. 

You found yourself in the stands of her games often, tucked in the back with a hat pulled over your head, avoiding her gaze and that of her family as well. You probably shouldn’t have been there, but you had turned into quite the masochist in the wake of losing her. 

She looked free on the field, exactly as you remembered her. Focused, ardent, driven, mirthful, intelligent, protective. 

Everything you had loved and lost. 

It’s not that there hadn’t been opportunities to see her again, especially when you had first moved and you both were young. But you never took them, knowing that it wasn’t your right. Alexia was happy, and you would never interrupt her peace for your own yearning. 

After last night though…you weren’t sure if the word you would describe her as was peaceful. It was possible you were reading too much into things, but there was an air of longing present in the brunette that confused you more than you expected. 

You wondered if she would call you, but you had no way of knowing. 

It needed to be that way. This needed to be her choice, her decision. You had been the one to take it away, and you gave it back to her almost a decade later. 

There was hope in your body, a nascent festering that took root no matter how hard you attempted to stop it in its tracks. But at the end of the day, you would gladly give back to her the right to choose in favor of everything you dreamed and desired. 

You would make peace with whatever decision that was, no matter the cost to your own happiness. 

—

“You–I’m sorry, you what?” Jenni blurted out as she glimpsed over at Mariona, who found herself just as confused and taken aback by what the brunette had just described. 

Alexia leaned back in her chair as she let out a forced breath. Her participation in this lunch was more compulsory than anything else after an entire practice of her “acting weird,” according to the striker. 

Mariona had been dragged along for a second opinion, though the midfielder had found herself growing more and more curious as Jenni’s pestering turned into real answers from the brunette. The raven-haired woman, while annoying at times, had been friends with Alexia for long enough to know when she needed a bit of a push to talk. 

For Alexia to admit that the reason she was bothered was because she had a long lost childhood lover was not exactly what Jenni was expecting. But the striker was nothing if not able to work with what she was given. 

“Let me get this straight,” the older woman began as she leaned forward against the table. “You met when you guys were like five, grew up together, started dating when you were teenagers, then were supposed to move here together, but she broke things off suddenly right before you left and you haven’t seen her since?” 

“That is correct,” Alexia conceded warily, well aware of how slightly ridiculous it seemed as a story. 

“And all of these years, you haven’t stopped thinking about her? A decade later and you’re still hung up on her?” Jenni asked incredulously, her voice nearly an octave higher than it usually was. She seemed to be out of her mind at the thought, and the brunette slunk down further into her chair, feeling overly barren. 

“You hook up with women like there is a prize for who gets the highest body count,” Alexia shot back, trying to come off as more annoyed than exposed. 

Mariona looked miffed at the vulgarity of the statement while Jenni shrugged, acquiescence in her expression. 

“Low blow Alexia,” the midfielder noted briefly, but the striker waved her off easily. 

“The woman isn’t entirely wrong, but more importantly she’s deflecting. Okay, so you’re still in love with the woman. And it just so happens that she’s randomly at the Spotify event they sent you to, and she’s still in love with you as well?” 

“Well not quite but…” Alexia started to disagree before she trailed off, her friends eyeing her with unconvinced expressions. 

“Yes, fine, sure,” she amended crossly. 

“She just happened to be at the same event? What does she do for work?” Mariona raised her eyebrow, suspicious of a coincidence that large. Alexia paused for a moment as she struggled to think of an answer. All she was drawing was a big blank, and the realization that maybe she should have been more suspicious about this whole thing. 

“I…I have no idea. I didn’t ask! She was just right in front of me, and I panicked, I didn’t know what to do!” Alexia said restlessly, the amount of fidgeting in her seat a clear indication of her nervousness. 

“Wow…she made the great Alexia Putellas panic? I’ve seen you send away more girls than a persnickety Playboy photographer.” 

“Jennifer!”

“Sorry, sorry! Anywho, you panicked, and then what happened?” Jenni amended, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. The raven-haired woman was absolutely devouring this, fighting valiantly not to smile like the cheshire cat. 

“And then we went on a walk and talked for a few minutes, she gave me her number and told me to call her, and she left,” Alexia finished lamely, sinking back into her seat. She surveyed her two friends, who only looked at her with interested expressions. 

“Okay…and what are you going to do?” Mariona inquired once she realized that Alexia wasn’t going to say anything more. 

“I don’t know what to do! My family thinks that I shouldn’t call her, that she has hurt me too much. That maybe she doesn’t deserve to be in my life anymore. What do you guys think I should do?” Alexia. 

“Listen, it seems to be a weird coincidence to me personally. All of the sudden you start to get famous and she just happens to pop up? That is a little weird to me. It sounds like this person hurt you deeply Ale, and it has stuck with you. Are you sure you want to rehash everything?” Mariona pressed, her words strict and condemning.

“I’m not sure if I do. I’ve spent the last decade thinking of her, and then suddenly she was there and I just…I didn’t know what to do with myself. I never imagined her being in my life again, and there she was! I spent my whole childhood loving her. I never saw myself with anyone else,” Alexia admitted quietly as she wrung her hands together for a moment before setting them down in her lap, unable to make her own mind up. 

The vast majority of Alexia’s teammates had never heard of you at all. Jenni was a little too old, Mariona a little too young. Those who had known of you had forgotten, easily deterred by Alexia telling them you had broken up, unrealizing of how much it meant for the midfielder to lose you. 

Mariona had begun to speak again, but the striker had tuned the two of them out, thinking quietly to herself for once. 

As much as she teased, Jenni watched her friend with a keen, knowing eye. There had to be a damn good reason for Alexia to turn away all of those girls. It wasn’t just their looks, some of them were lovely and intelligent and hilarious, and still the star midfielder had absolutely no interest in them whatsoever. 

Almost as if she was waiting for something else. 

Someone else. 

All these years there had been something missing in her, as though she looked for someone who never came through the door. Jenni had never known what was wrong enough to ask, but now she was beginning to piece together the importance of you to Alexia. Where everyone else saw reasons to criticize and judge, the striker was stuck on Alexia’s words. 

How the desire and longing seemed unable to be contained and reasoned with, despite all of the evidence to the contrary. 

“What do you want?” Jenni cut both of them off suddenly, eliciting a frustrated noise from Mariona and a surprised look from the brunette. 

“I don’t know what I want!” Alexia huffed out with frustration, but the raven-haired didn’t accept that quite so easily. There were too many hands in the pot here. Alexia had always known what she wanted to do, she was simply being deterred. 

“No, you do. You’re convoluted with everyone else’s opinions, but I think you know exactly what you want. What is it that you want Alexia?” Jenni’s eyes never wavered from Alexias, as if daring her to look away. 

She knew that the Catalan wouldn’t, and she was right. 

Alexia stared right at her friend, knowing exactly what choice she needed to make for herself. Not for anyone else, but for herself. 

At the very least, she needed to know what had happened to lose you the first time.

—

Alexia told herself she would call you in a few days, giving herself some time to cool off and think things through. 

She couldn’t even make it through a few hours before she was digging up the card you had given her and typing the number into her phone. The phone rang once, twice, three times before you picked up, and despite herself the Catalan let out a sigh of relief that you had picked up at all. 

“Hello?” You said dutifully as you held your ear to the phone, unaware of who was on the end of the line. There was silence for a long moment, long enough that you questioned if anyone was even there, before sound finally came through.

“Hi,” Alexia choked out, failing to keep her voice as calm and unbothered as she had told herself she would be. 

“Hi Alexia,” you replied, fighting to seem as unphased as possible. You were shocked she had called you, and your heart beat so rapidly in your chest it felt as though it was fluttering. 

“I know it’s sudden…but can you talk tonight?” The footballer blurted out after a few seconds. Your heart constricted with panic, but you swallowed it down and forced yourself to remain agreeable and steady. 

“Absolutely. What time and where should I meet you?” You questioned as you took a deep, bracing breath. You listened as Alexia rattled off an address and the two of you agreed to meet in an hour before she hung up. 

This might be your last chance to tell her the truth. Would it be worth it though? Was the possibility of creating an ache in her chest worth revealing what had really occurred? 

You knew her, and you knew that her guilt would be immense even if the situation was completely out of her control. You made the choice for her, knowing that it was the right one. But you were unsure if she would see it that way. Perhaps she would only see the hurt you had caused her unnecessarily, and that would be the end of it. Maybe that should just be the end of it, allowing her some answers while allowing her to move forward with her life. 

It had been nearly a decade. You had been without her nearly as long as you had been with her, and a piece of you knew that the ache would never disappear. You would always yearn for her, even if she decided to move on. 

But that was a right she had earned, and you had lost. 

It had been your own fault after all, that turned you two into this unsure, bumbling mess of emotions and challenges and strife. You would have done anything to change that if you could have. 

It was your fault but not your doing, at the end of the day. 

You arrived at the beach where Alexia told you to meet her a little early, which allowed you to sit down at a bench and look out at the ocean waves that poured in and out. You granted yourself that small moment of grace on the nearly empty beach as you slipped your sandals off and felt the lingering warmth of the sand under your feet as the sun slid behind the ocean. 

You didn’t notice Alexia’s approach until she was in front of you, and though you offered her the seat next to you silently, she didn’t take it. 

It should have been this that informed you that it would go downhill from there, but you clung to the hope that maybe this would be a productive conversation. You still didn’t know what to say exactly, but you knew you were not going to be dishonest. 

Alexia’s eyes examined you critically, as if she didn’t believe that it was really you. 

“How did you end up at the event the other day in the first place?” She inquired after a moment, and you can’t help but furrow your brows in confusion, lost as to why this was the first question she asked. Lost as to where all of this hostility came from, when you had yet to say a single thing. 

You had expected her to become angered as the conversation went on, but she already seemed cross and you had yet to say a word. 

“I work for Morgan Stanley doing investment consulting and management specifically with Spotify. I’ve become close with the people at the company as I work with them most days, and they invited me to the event. There were investors and important stakeholders that I was able to meet in person. I’ve come to the same event every year for the last three years,” you disclosed to the brunette, but the skepticism and hostility in her eyes never wavered despite your clarity. 

“Did you see me before we ran into each other?” She interrogated, and you settled into your seat uneasily. This felt less like a conversation and more like she was drilling you, waiting for you to slip up and say the wrong thing. 

“At the event, or in general?” You replied, wanting nothing but honesty in your responses. You could give her that, even if the air between you two was charged with more tension than you expected. 

“Both.” Alexia crossed her arms, everything in her posture defensive and frustrated. 

“At the event, no. I didn’t know until I was standing right in front of you,” you clarified, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to avoid fidgeting nervously. “In general, yes I had seen you. Only from afar though, at your games over the years. I never would have approached you.” 

I never would have approached you. 

Alexia felt every defense in her mind light up at that statement. When had you decided you were so utterly done with having her in your life? All the Catalan could think of was her mother and sister warning her that this was going to be a mistake. All she could think of was Mariona who talked about how strange the coincidence was that the two of you had run into her, as though it was so suspicious. 

You had left and hurt her. 

It had been your fault, that is what all the evidence seemed to tell her. 

Something pulled at the brunette’s mind though, something that begged her not to be so bellicose. Something that screamed at her that there was more to the story, and that handling everything this way was a horrible idea. 

Fear seemed to rule her though, rearing an ugly head that the midfielder was not proud of. 

“How many years,” she beseeched, fighting the wave of tears she could feel stinging at the back of her eyes. Her voice was low, wavering in a way that betrayed her emotions more than she cared to admit. You had let out a low sigh as you hung your head. 

“Five years. I’ve been in Barcelona for five years, and I’ve been coming to your games on and off for five years” you finally confessed as you shook your head. You looked up at the Catalan, who seemed caught between devastation and outrage. 

“You moved here five years ago and didn’t even think to come and talk to me? You never thought to check on me, to try and reach out?” Alexia seethed, burying her hurt behind a mask of fury. More than anything, the footballer felt like her whole chest had caved in. 

“No I didn’t. I had broken up with you Alexia, that was the choice I made. I wasn’t going to come barging back in four years later and demand that you take me back,” You tried gallantly to remain calm, even in the face of Alexia’s vexation. The brunette hated your answer, throwing her hands up in acute frustration. 

“You never even bothered to ask! You might have taken away my choice once, but you’ve spent five more years taking that choice away. You are a coward,” Alexia accused, pointing a finger at you even as everything in her screamed not to. She would regret what she said in the light of day, but all she felt right now was wounded. There was an intense urge to protect what little pride still remained inside her, and apparently in order to accomplish that she needed to lash out. 

You met her toe for toe though, not giving her the anger she wanted exactly but rather a sense of indignation. 

“I am a coward Alexia, you’re right. I wanted you to live your life, to move on, and I made the choice I thought was best for everyone at the time, including you. Don’t stand here and act like I made the choice without consideration for your feelings, because I have,” you fought, because even if you were at fault, you had tried so hard not to be selfish. If the Catalan got a single thing out of this conversation, you wanted it to be that. 

“No you haven’t, you’ve been selfish for the last decade! I lost my father, my community, and then you all in the span of one month. You disappeared, just like that. You were like a ghost, and I was on my own, and right when I needed you, you weren’t there!” She practically yelled, and it looked almost like her entire body vibrated with resentment. 

The footballer took a deep breath as she both tried and failed to remain calm. But every time she had more than a second to think, anger and vitriol seemed to flow out of her. 

“I hate myself for how much I needed you all these years, how much I longed for you. I can’t believe I didn’t see what was going on right in front of me. And now you’re back here…for what? A celebrity status? To be a WAG? I don’t have time for that, and I don’t want you anymore if you see me as such a transactional person. I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Alexia explained with an air of indignance. 

Though you had tried to remain calm, something finally snapped inside of you at that. You simply couldn’t allow for the brunette to say such things about you, and finally you allowed yourself the candor you’d held in all these years. 

“Oh for God's sake Alexia, really? I haven’t come here to be your WAG, or for your fucking money! I’m in investment banking for Christ's sake, I am fine financially! I don’t like football, but I spent my childhood going to games because you loved it and I loved you! You think it didn’t kill me to let you leave like that?” 

“You were my forever. We were young but you were the love of my life, and even now I can’t find myself ever connecting with anyone the way I did with you. I know I am older now, but I still have the same heart as I did when I was eighteen. You loved that person, and I’m not saying you need to love me anymore, but do not stand here and act like I have changed into someone unrecognizable when I have not!” You articulated, unwilling to allow yourself to be trodden over with disrespect. 

You were not the same person as you were at eighteen, but you were also not the person Alexia had made you out to be. 

The fight seemed to drain out of your body in an instance. Any hope that had been clung to was lost entirely as you decided just to be honest. You knew the brunette didn’t want anything to do with you, and in that moment you made peace with that. 

You would give her the truth, and nothing else but the truth. When you looked up at the Catalan, there were tears shining in your eyes. 

“I was sick, Alexia. I found out two days before I broke up with you that I had breast cancer, and I needed to stay in Madrid for treatment. You had just lost your father, you were moving to a whole new area of the country. You didn’t need to be worried about your sick girlfriend, trying to travel back and forth to Madrid, to have even more on your plate,” you revealed slowly as you aggressively wiped away the tears that flowed down your cheeks. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“So yes, I made a decision for you. In all honesty, it was a decision I would happily make again and again if it came down to it. I wanted to preserve what little peace and happiness you had left before the move. I ached for you afterward, but I knew that this was the right choice. I wanted you to live your dreams, with or without me. And by the time I finished treatment and came to Barcelona, I felt that it was too late. I had broken us, it was my fault entirely that we had broken up, and I didn’t feel like I had the right to come to you and explain.”

“So no, I haven't approached you for the last five years. I come to your games and I see you play with joy and happiness, and I see you with your family, and I want to leave you with that. So don’t look at me and call me a coward or a gold digger or whatever the hell you think I am, because at the end of the day I tried to make the best choices for you and me, and I can’t take them back anymore,” you released, and suddenly you felt much older than your twenty-seven years. You head hung, and you shrugged before you spoke again, your tone bitter and defeated. 

“If you’re so intent to see all of the reasons I fucked up, fine. If you need to tell yourself that I am a selfish whore to sleep at night, fine. But I sincerely hope that when you go to sleep at night you at least remember for a second that the decisions I made were for you, not because of you. Maybe it was the wrong choice to control that for you, but I can’t go back and change it now. So please, just leave me alone if this is all you want from me. I don’t have anything more to give you, not anymore,” You stated with exhaustion, spinning around to walk away. You disappeared into the night before the brunette even had a chance to say anything, left far too shell shocked to even begin to process your words. 

You were gone without a glance backward, and Alexia sunk down onto the bench you had once occupied as remorse purged every other feeling in her body.

she calls me daddy

Pairings: Kate Bishop x fem!queer!Reader; suggestions of other male avengers x Reader

Summary: Reader may be flirting with the guys all night but she always goes home to Kate in the end. Based on she calls me daddy by KiNG MALA.

Contains: Choking, spanking, oral sex (R receiving), pet names (R calling Kate “daddy”), suggestions of sex with men with the warnings already mentioned. 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Reader can be read as being any sexuality that involves being attracted to more than one gender <3

She's a little bit psycho

But she follows

When I call in the middle of the night

Kate grimaced as she watched the boys circle round you, listening intently like obedient little puppies with wagging tails as you told a story about taking out five agents at once. They were completely captivated by you and it wasn’t just because of your knack for story telling.

These were some of Earth’s mightiest heroes; the strongest men on the planet but they all just about swooned whenever you would be generous enough to give them your time.

Bucky had his hand on the small of your back, his head dipped to be closer to your face and take in every word you said. Thor had leaned his elbow off the bar on the other side of you, making sure that he was flexing and you could see those bulging muscles. Sam was more calm and collected, standing in front of you casually with his hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer. However, he wasn’t discreet in how he’d looked you up and down every now and then, being enchanted by your figure. Shang Chi also stood next to Sam across from you and bellowed heartily at all of your jokes. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide at everything you were saying.

It was hilarious really, all of this effort was being expended on you but at the end of the night, you’d be going home to Kate’s house to be used in any way she saw fit.

She’s got you wrapped around her finger

You try to linger

But she's already on her way to mine

“Doesn’t it bother you that she gets all of that attention?” Yelena asked, grabbing Kate’s focus away from you. She was one of the very select few people who knew of yours and Kate’s “arrangement”. The blonde sipped her drink thoughtfully and watched Kate adamantly protest.

“Absolutely not, no. No way. She’s her own person, she can do what she likes.” Kate insisted. She took a large gulp of the questionable spirit that Yelena had handed her and tried to hide the obvious burn in her throat to look cool in front of the assassin.

“If you say so, Kate Bishop,” Yelena shrugged. “Although I have heard the way you make her moan so I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you.”

Kate blinked several times in disbelief at her slightly unusual and unlikely friend. “What do you mean you’ve heard her moan?”

“I slept on your couch last Friday night.”

“But I didn’t invite you to my house on Friday night!”

Yelena groaned as if Kate was the one that was being unreasonable. “Kate, you should know by now that I can come and go without you even noticing. Besides, you’re focusing on the wrong part. I know that you are probably a better fuck than all of those men put together.”

Kate nodded, thinking about it a little with her eyebrow raised. Yelena was right, many times had you exclaimed at Kate that she was the best you’d ever had as she’d brought you to your climax several times in one session. The archer turned back to look at you again. Annoyingly, the guys had moved in even closer to you in a passive aggressive stand off to win your affection. Nevertheless, it was Kate that received the whimsical and suggestive eyes from across the room and she knew that it was her that would be making you moan again that night.

She plays with the boys

But she comes home to me

Cause she might be your girl

But she’s calling me daddy

The longer the night went on, the more primal showboating was exhibited by the men. They’d all shoved each other in a needy and pathetic attempt to show you how to play pool. It was Sam that prevailed and he’d pressed himself up against your back, whispering in your ear what to do and basically bending you over the table to “show you the best technique”.

Thor nonchalantly told you about his great battle stories from across the realms, being sure to drop in that many a time the odds were against him but he had emerged victorious. He contended that whilst a vibranium arm, ten “magic” rings and the shield were cool, they weren’t quite Mjolnir or Stormbreaker.

Bucky and Shang Chi had cornered you to settle a debate on what would make the most best first date. Bucky was insistent that it was dinner and dancing; men these days just didn’t know how to treat a woman. Shang Chi had advocated for drinks and karaoke; it’s casual and fun, no one has to take themselves too seriously. When they had prodded you for an answer you just smiled sweetly and told them that both sounded like perfect ideas for a first date. This just spurred them on even more in hopes of achieving a date with you.

Kate started to feel more and more insecure watching all of these events unfold. It was like watching you being stalked as prey by a bunch of wolves. Suddenly, the idea occurred to her that maybe none of them were relenting because you hadn’t given them a reason to.

It was a tough pill to swallow; the idea that you had already given yourself over to them the way you did for Kate. Perhaps, you had actually slept with any number of them before and not told her. It’s not like the two of you discussed your other sexual partners while she was making you see stars. Still, watching you giggle and flirt with the guys whilst never displaying any signs of discouragement was all the evidence she needed.

Kate was starting to feel apprehensive that she was disposable to you. Whilst you might have been sleeping with other avengers and other people outside of the team for that matter; Kate had only ever wanted you.

She's mine

She wears a collar with my name

Secretive but not ashamed

Kate had had enough of watching the guys stumble over each other in desperate attempts to get close to you. Her breathing got heavy and her actions became aggressive. The final straw was watching Bucky put his arms around you from behind and swaying with you to the cheesy song playing.

Kate stormed over, puffing her chest out, with her hands in her pockets, exuding as much masculine energy as possible to join this competition.

“Come with me to the bathroom.” She ordered assertively giving you a look which told you that you should comply.

“Okay.” You replied, giving Bucky’s had a light tap. “Can you let me go, Buck? I’ll be right back, promise.” He quickly let you go with a pout on his face, devastated that you were going but eager for the return you’d promised.

“Why do girls always need to go to the bathroom together?” Sam interjected with a laugh. It amused you as you knew this wasn’t going to be a cute little catch up whilst topping up lipglosses together.

“I would tell you why, Sam, but then I’d have to kill you.” You flirted as Kate took your hand to pull you away. She groaned internally and rolled her eyes as you gave the boys a cute little wave and followed her into the bathroom.

Kate wasted no time in shoving you up against the wall, pinning your hands above your head and kissing you roughly. You moaned a little into her mouth, having been taken by surprise and you felt a familiar heat grow between your legs.

“You. Are. Driving. Me. Crazy.” She growled against your mouth before kissing you again, almost as though she was trying to consume you.

You smirked into the kiss, shuffling a little against her as you got more and more turned on. Kate was firm and still, holding your wrists in place against the wall. She moved to kiss along your jaw and finally down to your neck. The smell of cologne was lingering on you. It could have been from any of them, given that they’d all taken turns in trying to press themselves against you. It burned in Kate’s nostrils and motivated her even further to claim you.

Infatuated with an incredible need to mark her territory, Kate had become no better than the guys.

She harshly bit down on your neck and sucked in your most sensitive spot which inspired an excited yelp from you.

“Fucking hell, Kate.” You breathed out, moaning as she kept going. She dropped your wrists and her hands roamed the rest of your body, kneading your tits, dragging her nails down your abdomen over your dress and landing with a smack on your ass, cupping your cheeks.

You had wrapped your arms around her shoulders, enjoying every second of having her hands all over you. In truth, you enjoyed flirting with the guys. Partly because they were all undeniably handsome but mostly because you know it would get Kate all worked up like this.

Once she’d left a suitably obvious hickey on your neck she left a kiss on it and admired her work. She reached her hand up and grabbed on to your throat tightly and you relished in the squeeze.

“Who do you belong to?” Kate asked, giving you a stern and authoritarian look.

“You.” You moaned, enjoying this a little too much already.

“You, what?”

“You, daddy.”

Kate smirked and bit her lip at you becoming a mess already for her. “That’s right, babygirl. That’s fucking right.”

She turned you round so your chest was pressed against the wall. Your ass received a couple of harsh spanks before Kate pulled the hem of your dress up to rest on your hips. Her next move was to get on her knees behind you, biting at the sore flesh of your ass and you could have screamed. Fingertips digging into the wall and legs trembling, you turned your head to look at the door being so painfully aware that anyone could just walk in.

Kate pulled your underwear down and let it fall to your ankles. Putting her hand between your thighs, she parted your legs to get at her favourite part of your body. Slowly, she opened her mouth and dragged her tongue along your aching clit. A gasp was emitted from your lips and you arched your back to stick your bum out, exposing more of your pussy to Kate’s tongue.

Kate chuckled at your eagerness and submission. Her hands gripped your hips to keep you in place as she started to suck on your clit. She would take long gulps and hollowed out her cheeks to the drag the pleasure out for as long as possible. You were a writhing, moaning mess. Your forehead was pressed against the wall in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself. Your hands awkwardly flailed from resting against the wall to putting them over Kate’s on your hips. Usually, you would tug at her hair but with her being on her knees behind you, it was too difficult.

She hummed contentedly against you and it sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. The mewls and cries you let out were so high pitched, you were both a little in shock that your voice could even go that high. Kate would alternate her method between sucking your clit to get it all nice and sensitive and then would lap it up with her tongue. The noises you were making told her all she needed to know about what a good job she was doing.

She noted your legs beginning to shake and knew you were close. Feeling yourself get very sensitive you tried to move away from her. Kate responded with gripping your hips tighter and digging her nails in. This sent you flying over the edge.

“Oh my god, thank you, daddy! I’m cumming, fuck!” You screamed as you let go, Kate sucking for longer in order to drag your orgasm out for as long as possible.

You leaned against the wall for support, your hands pressed on it to steady yourself. You focused on your haphazard breathing and attempted to regulate it. Kate gently pulled your underwear back up and stood up to pull your dress back down. She kissed your shoulder repeatedly and rubbed your back as you came to.

“You wanna go home?” She asked softly.

“Yeah.” You replied, knowing it wouldn’t be long before both of you were up for round two.

You should see their face when they finally realize

That she plays with the boys

But she comes home to me

It was pretty obvious when you and Kate emerged from the bathroom what you had been up to. Her hand was on the small of your back and she occasionally gave you some shoulder kisses. Likewise, you adorned a large love bite on your neck whilst your face and chest were red and flushed.

Kate wished she could have taken a picture of the guys’ faces. Each one of them had their jaw dropped in complete shock, having realised just how naive and clueless they had been all night. It made you giggle but it made Kate smug.

You took your bag back from Shang Chi who was holding it for you, giving the four men a sweet smile. “Tonight was fun, I’ll see you guys later. Bye.”

They wordlessly all raised their hands to wave you off. All of them were bitter and disappointed they had not caught on that it was Kate they had needed to compete with.

You turned to Kate who had tasked herself with sorting the Uber. Her hand returned to your back as she guided you out of the bar. She may not have had good odds in a fight against any of the four men, but she had won this and honestly, this was more satisfying.

Head's a mess

She's responsible

Change her mind

It's impossible

You rested your head on Kate’s shoulder in the car, relaxing into her. Kate moved and put her arm around you to which you gave a contented sigh.

Kate looked down at the sweet sight of you in her arms and began to wonder if this was enough for her. She couldn’t handle watching men flirting with you in a bar right in front of her face so she shuddered to think about what you did behind her back.

Her brain flooded with intense intrusive thoughts. Bucky’s vibranium arm round your neck, squeezing it just the way you liked. Sam bending you over that pool table, riding your dress up and pulling your underwear down just as Kate had done in the bathroom. Shang Chi spanking you as you let out excited moans, begging him for more. Thor eating you out as though you were his last meal and making your voice hoarse with your screams.

Kate groaned, the thoughts making her feel nauseous. She was aware that you had maybe done any of those things before. The real kick in the teeth though, is that you weren’t Kate’s girlfriend and were perfectly free to still do those things.

You had never suggested wanting anything serious, seemingly content with the arrangement you and Kate had whilst freely flirting with the guys on nights out. It occurred to the archer that she might control you in the bedroom but in real life it was you that held the reigns. You had everyone right where you wanted them.

Watch the girl get what she likes

jo has my heart

favorite crime

❦ pairings: jo march x fem!reader

❦ warnings: SMUT (fingering, kinda edging, dom!reader & sub!jo), kinda angst, argument, reader's internalized homophobia (i think????), making out, swearing

❦ summary: jo march doesn't want to be only your best friend.

❦ word count: 1,4k

❦ a/n: not my gif. don't read this if you're uncomfortable.

you sighed at the feeling of your body hitting the matress of jo's bed. you were exhausted from all the dancing on meg's wedding so words couldn't describe how happy you were to finally be able to relax. well, almost relax.

jo was upset and you couldn't put a finger on why was that. she seemed to be so cheerful earlier this day, dancing and talking to people she had never met before. the last time you saw her before leaving to march's house was when she was leaving somewhere with theodore laurence. after like a half an hour later she returned. from that moment, you were convinced that something was bothering her. you swore that if that laurence guy did something to jo, which she didn't like, he will lose the ability of having children. and you'd be the cause of it.

"what happened, jo?" you asked for the milionth time that evening, now determined that if she responded with 'nothing', you wouldn't let her be.

"i already told you, y/n. it's–"

"stop it, josephine," you cut her off with an angry tone before she could finish the sentence you didn't take as an answer. "something clearly made you upset and i would like to know what is it. you're my best friend and i care about you."

jo scoffed at the word 'best friend', but you brushed it off.

"teddy and i had a fight," she finally answered, placing her head on your lap and you raised your eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. but she didn't.

"do you want me to punch him?" you joked, running your hand through her blonde locks you loved so much.

"no," jo shook her head, laughing. she bit her lip, searching for her next words. "it wasn't his fault, really. i hurt him and now i feel guilty even though i did the right thing."

"what happened?"

your best friend sighed. "well, he told me he loves me and i didn't say it back. if i did, i would be lying and than we would be in a relationship that wouldn't be fair neither for him or me. it may not seem like that to him, but it was the right thing to do and i'm sure he'll understand."

"yeah, don't worry, he will." you nodded. "although i'll admit you surprised me. all this time i thought you were in love with him. like juliet was in love with romeo."

jo closed her eyes in fear of your reaction of what she was about to say. "perhaps," she paused, taking a deap breath. "perhaps juliet doesn't want romeo. maybe juliet wants juliet," she said, looking up at you, waiting for you to get it.

you glanced down at her. a second later, your eyes widened as you shook your head, your lip shaking slightly. "no, jo, no."

"why not?" she questioned, lifting her head from your lap, giving you the opportunity to stood up.

and you did. your face was now in your hands as you paced around her room. "you wouldn't understand."

"you don't know that," she spoke and stood up from her bed.

"this whole time i thought you do not have any romantic feelings towards me and i was more than glad for that. but now i know you love me, it changes so many things, because when i thought you don't, i knew i had absolutely no chance with you and i was fine with that because my parents would murder me if they found out i love and date a woman. but now i know you love me and i won't be able to stay away from you because– fuck, josephine march, just stop loving me!"

"then stop being so loveable!" she said, her voice rising its volume.

"no! you stop being so poetic and making characters in your stories that obviously resemble me!"

"how can i when you are constantly on my mind even when i write?" she took a step closer to you. "i then end up pointing out your beautiful e/c eyes that i could describe in thousands of words and your h/c hair that i love running my hand through." she gave you that look you now knew what it meant.

"stop looking at me like i'm the only woman in the world." tears were now streaming down your cheeks.

jo grabbed your wrists. "but you are, y/n. you are the only woman — only person that i could ever love."

you pulled out your wrists out of jo's grip. "you don't love me jo. you can't."

"you're right," she paused. "i don't love you. i'm irrevocably and unshamefully in love with you. and i know you love— you are in love with me."

"i am," you said, making the gap between you two smaller. "but the society won't let us be happy. perhaps if i was born as a man, everything would be different."

"if you were a man, i wouldn't have any attraction towards you."

"right," you laughed, wiping your tears.

suddenly, jo's forehead was touching yours. you could feel her hot breath against your face.

"kiss me," you blurted out, making her smile. jo leaned and pressed her her lips against yours. the kiss felt so right and good as if your lips were made for each other.

your mouth not leaving hers, you were walking forward towards the bed, pushing jo on the mattres when the back of jo's legs reached it.

jo smirked at you and fell on the bed, she placed her hands under her head as you straddled her, your legs on each side of her hips.

you were feeling quite dominantly at the moment, so you placed your palms on hers, interwining your fingers with her.

you kissed her one more time on lips before making your way with yours to her jawline and then neck, making her sigh in pleasure.

"you're making me to have unholy thoughts about you, miss y/l/n." jo arched her back when you reached her shoulder with your lips.

you smiled at her confession and lifted your head from the crook of her neck where you made a hickey. "did you think about me a lot?" you asked with a smirk as your hand travelled between her legs, stroking her thighs. her breath hitched and you chuckled, watching her in amusement. "answer me, love."

"yes, i- i did. . ." even when the light wasn't the best, you could see blush appearing on her cheeks.

you smiled, your hand now being very closely to her pussy that you could feel warmness radiating for it.

jo bucked her hips into your hand when your thumb began to make circles on your clit, your other two fingers teasing her wet entrance.

without a warning, you pushed your fingers inside of her, making her groan loudly. jo put her hand on her mouth to muffle her moans of pleasure but you slapped her thigh, causing her to whine.

"i need to hear you, josephine. don't try to hold your pretty moans back," you ordered her and she nodded quickly.

you moved your fingers out and inside of her quickly, the soft pad of your thumb rubbing her clit gently.

jo looked beautiful as always. her hair was wildly spreaded across her bed, her were eyes shut tightly from the pleasure you were causing to her as her mouth was wide open, groans escaping it.

her walls were pulsing around your finger, squeezing it tightly for dear life, signalizing she was close to her high.

"i'm gonna-"

"no," you said harshly. "hold it."

jo whined at your words. "i can't," she cried out, the bedsheets in her fists.

"yes, you can."

moments later, you felt as if the edging was already enough, considering the fact that jo was now a crying mess, that was begging you to let her cum.

"let go," you said softly as her thighs shook. as much as you loved hearing her how much you make her feel good, you covered her mouth with your hand, quieting her moans.

after she calmed down and caught her breath, you lied down beside her and sucked your fingers which were full of jo's juices.

jo chuckled at you breathlessly, lying her head on your chest as you ran your hand through her hair.

what an amazing night that was.

I would probably call it a bruh moment

Wanda: We call that a traumatic event.

Wanda, turning to Natasha: Not a "bruh moment"

Wanda, turning to Yelena: Not a "major L"

Wanda, turning to Kate: And definitely not an "OOF lmao"

im so dead oewudqwbdqw THIS IS ADORABLE

miss jade your bodyguard!james example hit me right in the chest.. can I get candy apples and do you wanna dance? with a bodyguard!james au?? Where you’re dying for a sleepover with your girlfriends but he’s gotta sit in there with you and he totally gets into it gossiping and painting nails and doing face masks and making friendship bracelets? I yearn for big buff scary babygirl James and his shy little charge :’)) - happy Halloween !!!!!!! 🧡🖤

join luveline's halloween party ♡

mei my angel my literal everything best idea ever and I had to include what we talked about too, tysm for ur request baby happy halloween ♡ bodyguard!james x shy!fem!reader (also tipsy!reader)

You really hadn't wanted to bring it up but at the same time, you'd felt like you had to. James had assured you to do whatever it is that's going to make you most comfortable, even if what makes you most comfortable is actually making your new friends most comfortable.

"He... He has to come, but James doesn't mind sitting in the adjoining room. I'm sorry," you'd said.

Mindy, a friend you'd miraculously managed to make at the supermarket of all places, had given your bodyguard a once over with a huge smile. "Are you kidding? He's welcome to sit wherever he likes. He's very welcome."

You'd felt a flicker of something. Not jealousy. A general wash of embarrassment at the implication that James is, rightfully, eye-candy.

"Are you wearing aftershave?" you ask now, not a question you would usually have the courage to ask. You're shocked.

"Cologne, actually," James says.

You gawp at him.

James looks both lovely and ridiculous. He's bedecked in smart clothes, his casual civilian clothing, and it's enough to make your heart skip a beat. Tight sleeves, tight pants. He's a classic handsome on a bad day. Tonight, he's breathtaking.

Especially carrying your pink backpack.

You like how much he doesn't care about stuff like this. Your backpack thrown over his shoulder, your coat in the crook of his elbow. None of it is his job, the only thing he really has to do is stop you from getting maimed or killed, but he does it anyways.

"It's nice," you say awkwardly. What you'd wanted to say was worse. Are you wearing cologne to impress Mindy?

His smile is horrifyingly smug. "Thank you, princess. Think you should knock again?"

You knock again, your hand barely pulled from the door when it swings open.

"Hi," Mindy says, smiling as soon as she sees you.

It's such a nice thing, for your presence to make somebody smile like that, and you find yourself smiling back without any of your usual shyness.

"And hello," she adds, sizing James up with a light-hearted expression of dizziness. "Did you get more handsome, Mr. Bodyguard?"

James hand touches between your shoulders. "Maybe slightly."

Mindy laughs gleefully. "Maybe so. Please, come in. We were waiting on your before we start Dirty Dancing."

You beam. Mindy shows you and James into the living room of her home where the rest of your new friends wait. They're all just as excited to see you as you are to see them, greeting you with hugs and smiles. They say hello to James too, which is really nice. James doesn't mind, but sometimes people act as if he's not there. It's my job to sink into the background, he'd placated once.

Still, you don't like when people ignore him. This spells good tidings.

You're in very nice but comfy clothes, soft loose trousers and a t-shirt that's too big for you, because you'd thought that was what people where to these kinds of things — it's what they wear in all the movies you'd watched to prepare — so you're horrified when you realise they're all dressed in fancy blouses and fine jewellery.

"Sit down," James reminds you gently, putting pressure on your shoulder until you sit.

"Right," you say with a laugh.

"You can sit wherever you like," Mindy says to James.

He tips his head slightly to one side. "I really don't want to intrude on you girls. I can happily stay by the door."

Mindy shakes her head. "No, sir. You can protect your lovely treasure from right here."

James sits beside you.

Mindy is clearly quite wealthy. Her living room is a large space with huge couches and an impressive television bolted high on the wall, Dirty Dancing already queued and waiting to play. Before you know it you've a cocktail in hand and the lights have been turned down low, the movie accompanied by a low level of chatter.

"Patrick," Georgia says dreamily, watching as the main characters dance in the middle of an empty room.

"He's not very handsome-" Milly says.

"What?"

"Let me finish! He's not very handsome in the classical way, is he? But his demeanour is what makes him so yummy."

You huff under your breath, a laugh you can't contain as they descend into a debate on all his pros and cons.

"He's more handsome because he can dance. It's his charisma."

"What does Y/N think?" Mindy asks, turning to you eagerly. You almost choke on your sip of cosmopolitan, face growing warm under their expectant gazes.

It's not entirely their fault. James turns to you to, you can feel his thigh pressed closer to yours. This isn't the kind of thing you and he ever talk about.

"Um, he... Well, I think he's-" Your voice falls to an insecure murmur. "He's not not handsome."

"I don't think he's all that," James says.

The girls roar with laughter. You turn to James to watch him chuckling, a grateful smile on your face.

"Can you dance, James?" Milly asks.

His arms burns where it touches your own. "Not like that," he says.

More laughter. You feel two things at once, and this time you're willing to admit one is some sort of jealousy. He's super funny and you love that about him, you're just not sure if you love everybody else knowing it too. But then, the second feeling, pure affection for him. He deserves droves of girls fawning over him. It makes sense that they're all so charmed.

They all sing the closing song of the movie to each other in dramatic duets. Mindy tries to include you, and then Georgia does too, but singing in front of people isn't something you do. It takes too much courage. You'd have to disregard the embarrassment of being bad, and you're not good at that. Nevertheless it's a great time that makes you laugh until your side hurts, especially when Dahlia and Darcy try to do the dangerous 'lift' dance move.

You dip your head toward James. "You could definitely do that."

He laughs, startled. "Do what, shortcake?"

"The lift."

"Only if you're the one I'm lifting," he bargains.

"Never in a million years," you say, cheeks filled with heat.

They want to do manicures after that. This is two cosmopolitans later, mind you, but you gather around the coffee table with finger dividers, and soon Milly is passing out calming sheet masks she got from the supermarket. You laugh at one another, ghosts in practice, and your laughter gets worse when James agrees to let Milly put one on him. His hair's so thick and curly that he needs to wear a headband to keep it away from his face, a salmon coloured pair of bunny ears.

You're on your fourth cocktail, a long island iced tea, by the time your nails are done, and Georgia has started retelling a story about her last date, how weird the guy had been, and how he had failed spectacularly in the bedroom.

"I mean, I probably should've known there wouldn't be much joy when he showed me his matchbox collection, but I thought he was eclectic, not stupid."

You giggle and lean hard into James side for support, your own face mask starting to slip down your face. He's already peeled his own off, skin shiny and soft, and he reaches out with delicate fingertips to pull yours away too.

"Here," he says, dabbing the excess essence off with a flannel.

"Thanks, Jamie," you say happily.

"Worst date of my life," Georgia finishes, rolling her eyes.

"I can't beat that one!" Darcy says quickly. "I was twenty, and we went to Burger King for dinner. Burger King. I was wearing a little black dress and heels. And when we get back in the car, we were supposed to be going for a film, he leans over the handbrake and starts trying to kiss me and all I could see was a tiny piece of lettuce in his mustache," — you hiccup hard and slap a hand over your mouth, overjoyed by her tortured tone — "I pulled away, obviously. And he grabs my shoulder and said, come on baby, I saw how you were looking at me back there.

Back there. In the Burger King." She rolls her eyes. "You gotta be kidding me."

The girls share their horror stories and you laugh and sigh sympathetically in most of the right places, until you're the only one left who hadn't spoken.

"What about you, Y/N?" Dahlia asks.

"Yeah, what's your nightmare date?"

You stiffen. "I mean... I... I haven't-"

"Come on, it can't be as bad as the guy who spit in my ear," Milly says.

You laugh, because ew, but struggle to come clean without sounding awkward. "I've never been on a date before."

"Oh," Mindy says, sounding not disgusted but let down. She recovers swiftly. "Well, you aren't missing anything, babe."

"Yeah," Darcy placates. "Especially if it's with a guy. No offense."

James raises a hand. "Please, it's fine. I've no delusions when it comes to my sex."

The girls continue to try and comfort you. You hadn't wanted any comfort, and every new reassurance makes you shrink. It's lovely that they're trying to make you feel better, but you feel abruptly inexperienced and ashamed about it.

"I once had a girl break an egg against my forehead," James says.

They all pause.

"On a first date?"

"Yup. She'd brought eggs. In her purse."

They gawp. You gawp. You've never heard this story.

Halfway through a dramatic rehashing his hand finds your calf for a quick squeeze. You realise he's making the whole thing up shortly after and you've never felt more thankful for him. And he once stopped you from getting tasered by grabbing the weapon with his bare hands, so.

"Aren't we a little old for friendship braceletes?" Milly asks, a practically fully-formed chevron bracelet in hand.

You struggle with your beginners bracelet made of four strands. James, beside you, is a natural. Your elbows keep brushing together, and it's a lot.

"Some of us had bad childhoods, Milly."

"Shit," you whisper, your bracelet loop sneaking out from under the masking tape anchoring it to the table for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"You're pulling too hard," James whispers back.

"Everyone's quicker than me!"

Mindy yawns and proclaims to go receive the sleeping bags and air mattresses she'd promised. "Keep working, Y/N! I want that bracelet around my wrist when I get back."

"No problem," you say easily, and then, "James, what do I do? Please help me."

James looks over at your bracelet. You've made knots on the wrong strings, the bracelet more a net than anything. He side eyes the group of girls sitting around him, all putting the finishing touches on their projects, before quietly slipping his bracelet into his lap and swapping it with yours.

"Stick it back on the table and I'll show you," he murmurs covertly.

You stick his bracelet on the table in front of you with some masking tape and James takes charge. He grabs your hands with zero hesitation and shows you how to knot the strings, the 4-shape you need to make and which strings you need to make it on. His hands are very warm, super soft, and when he lets go you feel it like an absence.

"Get it?" he asks.

Kind of. There's an obvious difference in the quality of knots made. James' are all neat and uniform, yours less so, but you chalk it upto rushing and mindy doesn't know any different, hugging you as you tie it around her wrist.

"It's stunning," she proclaims. "Where's yours, Mr Bodyguard?"

He shows your bracelet. "I had some trouble."

There's a little wave of giggles that hurts your feelings, but then Darcy says, "It's alright, James. They're really hard if you've never made them before."

"Yeah, I spent an entire summer in primary school teaching myself. That's a great effort for a beginner!"

"Practice makes perfect, anyways."

James nudges you casually with his elbow. "Thanks, ladies."

Soon, the room is enveloped by the rushing sound of the electric air pump blowing up air mattresses. They're sandwiched together, and even with Darcy on the couch and Mindy in her own bed there's no enough room.

"I'm so sorry," she says, "I didn't think about where he'd sleep."

"Technically, I won't really be sleeping," James says.

Your heart is thudding painfully against your ribcage. "Uh, well," — you're so desperate to seem cool and not cause any problems that you blurt without thinking — "it's fine, James doesn't mind sharing with me." You look up into his dazzling, sun-kissed face. "Do you?"

A flicker of surprise clouds his features. He hides it. "No, of course I don't mind."

The time approached half-twelve quickly. James is off shift at 1AM, and while he might usually go home he's already told you he'll be staying the night. He hates when you're in unfamiliar places. You don't complain, though when it's dark and everyone is drunkenly snoozing in their plastic beds, you sit up in your sleeping bag and search for his figure in the dark.

"James?" you murmur.

"What, sweetheart?"

"Is y'shift over?"

"Yeah. Mason's just pulled up outside." Mason means Jack and Jack means the night team. You roll your eyes at how ridiculously looked after you are.

"Do you want to come and sleep? You must be tired," you continue, your own voice dulcet with an obvious fatigue.

James picks his way over to you where you're nestled in your pyjamas and sleeping bag. "I can go kip in the van, if it makes you uncomfortable."

Is he kidding? He's just spent the night not only looking after you but making sure time and time again that you didn't look stupid in front of your new friends. He might be the nicest boy you've ever met, and the last thing you want him to do after all of this is go sleep sitting up in the back of a van.

"Are you crazy?" you mumble, unzipping your sleeping bag to entice him in. "S'cold in here. Your nose would get frost bite out there."

"Poor night team," he laments agreeably.

The air matress lifts you up with James' added weight. He makes his way under the unzipped sleeping back and has to cling to your hip to stop himself from falling off. You frown at his scratchy clothes.

"Did you bring pajamas?" you ask.

"No offense, shortcake, but no. Obviously I did not."

Your sleep (and cocktail) addled brain doesn't have the energy to feel offended. "Y'gonna be uncomfortable."

He doesn't speak. You assume he's done talking for the night and curl your leg up toward his thigh, when he says, "You won't mind if I take my shirt off? The fancy labels are really itchy."

"No, fancy-pants, I won't mind."

Even in your state you can feel the nervousness of being so close to him after he's peeled off his shirt. He's a huge hot water bottle beside you and you face toward him, cold but miles too shy to make a move.

It's like he can read your mind. "Are you still cold?" he asks, pulling the sleeping bag up to your chin.

"A little. My nose is cold," you murmur, eyes feeling heavier by the second.

His hand lands tentatively against your cheek. His thumb rubs against the tip of your nose. "What was it you said about frost bite?"

You genuinely can't remember. His hand is so warm, his body, his touch something you desire badly on a good day and yearn ceaselessly for on your worst. You bracelet his wrist where it rests against your neck and rub over his pulse unthiningly.

"You want a hug?" he asks knowingly.

"Just for a second," you agree. Your dignity shrivels with the speed of your reply.

He laughs under his breath and slides his arm under your shoulders. For a second it's uncomfortable and achy, and then he's pulling the brunt of your weight onto his chest and wrapping arms around you.

You shudder at how warm he is, the heat of his palms over your spine.

You lavish in his hold and steal all of his emanating heat until you're toasty as can be, sleeping bag snug over your limbs and face nestled in the bare skin of James' shoulder.

"Sorry," you mumble.

"For what?"

You're surprised he's still awake.

"For... For being so... I don't know. Because you had to save me so many times."

"Saving you from awkward situations is easy, don't worry about it. And I think you would've done better without me than you realise."

His hand creeps up the nape of your neck.

You're pretty beside yourself, tipsy and tired and tenderised by his tactile touching. He's familiar. More familiar than anything. It feels like a dream to be in his arms. It probably is.

"You're a good girl, Y/N," he says, and it doesn't feel weird at all. He means it honestly. "You're kind. You're caring. People were bound to love you eventually. It took a while, but they do."

"It didn't take you a while."

"Well, I'm smarter than everybody else, you know that," he says.

You both laugh. His hand strokes the side of your face and rests behind your ear. You can't pin point when you fall from dizzy laughter into sleep, but James can.

He watches your face relax in the near-dark, watches your shoulders settle under his hands. The whole while he's thinking God, what am I doing? This isn't professional. This is the opposite of professional.

He tries to ease you off of him and abandons all hope when you turn your face into his chest and your lips touch his skin. Each exhale a warm kiss.

In the morning, he'll likely tease you within an inch of your life. You're shy enough on a normal day that he doubts you'll survive it. But for now, he rubs the length of your back and wonders if this is how you feel when he's standing guard. So, so safe.

THE END BSHAHGTRSSAGHJNVXRHBXER

Sultry | S.B

Paring: Young!Sirius Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: One argument gets a little too detailed.

Every sibling had a counterpart. Whether it be one was nice, and one was mean. Or one was smart, and one was incredibly dumb. Every sibling had their contradiction. Remus and Y/n Lupin were no different in the grand scheme of things, but on the outside, they were different people.

Remus wore robes of maroon and gold. Y/n wore robes of green and silver. They were only a year apart, but they were so incredibly different. Remus felt like from the minute she was born, they were meant to argue. Her sarcastic comments were unmatched, and her wit was incredible.

To be frank, it brought great smiles to James and Sirius’ faces when the Lupin siblings got into it. It was undoubtedly funny and incredibly jaw-dropping to watch them argue. It was a constant back and forth argument with how they differed. If one said something snarky, the following comment would be even better.

Sirius had never been on the receiving end of it until he had, and it brought a bright red flush to his face to get told off by the female Slytherin. Now Remus understood what was so fun about watching them argue. Remus and James had never seen Sirius look so flustered before.

This argument was supposed to be no different, “Are you fucking daft?” Y/n retorted, “Merlin, your voice makes my ears bleed.” Sirius muttered.

She quirked an eyebrow, “Does it now? Maybe you should listen to yourself. All you do is blah blah blah. You never shut up.”

“Well, maybe you should shut me up!” Sirius shouted, and Remus stilled, “Should I now?” Y/n approached slowly.

Sirius was quickly backed up against the wall and gulping down breaths nervously, “And what makes you think you deserve that?”

“Cat caught your tongue, darling?” Y/n purred, twisting his tie, “So tough on the outside, but as soon as you get what you want, you can no longer talk.”

Y/n leaned to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I should go talk to Regulus. You wouldn’t like that would you?”

Hands tightened on her waist as he clenched his jaw, making her chuckle, “That’s right. You wouldn’t like that, mm?”

“You forget Regulus is one of my closest friends.” Y/n teased, “Maybe, you’d enjoy the same things he does.”

“What is that suppose to mean?” Sirius growled, “What do you think, love?”

People gathered, watching them do this in the middle of a corridor, “Maybe if you use your words like a good boy next time. I’ll do what you want.”

Y/n pulled away with a wink leaving Sirius speechless and blushing like mad. Remus was appalled. Yes, he knew that Y/n could have any guy she wanted in the castle. That wasn’t new knowledge. But watching it happen, especially to Sirius, was an entirely different process.

“Alright.” James coughed, “Now that we know Sirius has a crush on Y/n and that your sister has slept with Regulus, I think we can move on.”

SCREAMING CCCCRRRYYYyYY~IIIINNNNGGGG WHAAATTTT

My Wife [Natasha]

Summary : Y/N the adoptive daughter of Clint Barton got rejected multiple time by the Black Widow, the best friend of his dad

 Pairing :  Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Cursing, depression

Word count : 5059

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

“Here she is….AAAAHHHHH HERE’S MY WIFE.” You beam while jumping up and down a little bit once you get up from the couch, pointing to Natasha, who just entered the living room from her room.

A series of laughs, especially from your father, Clint, who is happy to see you with this enthusiasm just by Natasha walking into the same room as you are, already gives you so much joy that it hurts to think to himself

Keep reading

creaming

PILLOW-HUMPING ➪ jennifer check

❥ ҉ synopsis : your new friend jennifer finds out that you never masturbated before so she decides to teach you a special way to get off

❥ ҉ pairings : jennifer x fem!reader

❥ ҉ word count : 1492 (y’all gettin fed wtf)

❥ ҉ warnings: SMUT, pillow humping, dirty talking, spitting, language, jen bein a meanie for a second, fingering, something around the sorts of cum eating, lemme know if i missed one?

❥ ҉ a/n: ❝hi sexc babes, welcome to the first day well technically the third day of my 2021 kinktober!!! the reason i had to change the dates around a bit is because due to the second round of the tumblr plus protest taking place on the first and second of october, tumblr was too empty to post so hi here i am on the third. but even tho it’s the third day, this is still the first piece ever for my kinktober event so i really hope y’all will enjoy this and the many more dates to come. ilyy <333❞

kinktober masterlist / navigation

“, never have i ever masturbated?”

at jennifer’s question you stilled completely. your eyes darted all over the place as you stayed silent at her question. the more time ticked away with no sound coming from you, jennifer then grew into another fit of giggles; taking your silence as a no. “wow, i knew you were innocent but not this innocent, y/n”

you laugh nervously, a hand coming up to rub at your neck before throwing a little look at the girl in front of you. “pfft- of course i have! i do it like regularly, you know?” you lied straight through your teeth, very obviously at that. your own self cringing at the unconvincingly fib. only cringing more when you see jennifer giving you an amused look.

“oh regularly, right? so what’s a clit y/n?”

you're not really sure if you choked on air or your spit, but you’re sure that you choked.

“i’m s-sorry, a what?”

“your clit, babe” jennifer gives you her signature coy smile as she stares at your flustered face with amusement, finding you so cute. you weren’t able to answer her because you had no idea what she was talking about. at your non-speaking figure jennifer giggles again before silencing herself, causing you to look up at her when you heard the quietness that enveloped the room so suddenly.

“wanna find out?”

at her question you sighed out, your face turning into doubt as you thought it over.

“it’s late and your mom is asleep, we should just-“

“oh cmon, y/n. don’t be such a fucking loser” jennifer then looks at you with irritation swarming in her irises. making you flinch back a little at her sudden change of attitude. at the sight of your hurt eyes, jennifer softens. sighing out, she began moving up closer to you. almost as if she was going to straddle you but not.

“m’ sorry y/n. look, it’ll be fun i promise. i can show you a nice way to masterbaute for your first time” the raven hair girl whispers with a stroke of her perfect, red manicured fingers brushing through the locks of your hair. petting you. the succubus studies your features carefully, seeing every emotion, only smirking when she spots acceptance coming along your features.

you then nod your head, basking in the beautiful way she shows her teeth at you. it still amazes you how you could be “best friends” as she likes to say, with the one and only, intoxicating, jennifer check. she leaned even closer to you. her enchanting face just centimeters away from your own, her delicate lips oh so close to yours. with only one, tiny little movement you and jennifer lips will be meeting one another's, that's how close you two were. you can see just how blue and addicting her orbs were. her eyes were like the never ending, blue ocean waves and you were going for a swim.

“grab a pillow” all though the words that left her mouth confused you, you listened. your hands grabbing one of the pillows from up jennifers bed and holding it close to you cluelessly, peering up at jennifer for more directions. jennifer smiles and grabs it from you, placing the flat pillow right in front of you but not before folding it half and pressing it into the sheets of her bed. once she was done she gave you a raised brow and a devious smirk which excited you and made you nervous at the same time.

“take your shorts off, it works way better that way” as soon as the words left her mouth, she quickly sees your head going a mile a minute as per usual, at her request. even though jennifer was comfortable enough to be wearing just her panties in front of you, you weren’t.

“what if i cover my eyes, will that be better?” jennifer proposes, both of her hands coming up to cover her eyes when she hears a meek “sure” come from you.

only dropping them when she gets your confirmation. she’s quickly met with the sight of you in your cute, pink and yellow polka dot cotton underwear which were very similar to the pair she has on now, just black and red.

“hot” jennifer grins at you, which you shyly smiled at. her compliment relaxing you and making you less nervous about your body being seen.

“hop on, baby” jennifer pats the pillow with a chuckle, signaling you. you listened and followed the small directions that left her as you began to straddle the folded pillow, making yourself get comfortable with the help of jennifer.

“now, just move your hips. feel the pillow”

you nod in understanding, beginning to move your hips ever so slightly. slowly, just feeling the material of the softness of the pillow-case and the cloth of your panties pressed against your folds, the extra layer of your panties making the friction against you more delicious.

your face softly scrunched up a bit, your teeth coming down on your lip. beginning to lower yourself down even more onto the pillow until you feel the right amount of pressure on a certain spot that makes you take a sharp intake of breath while you continue to move back and forth.

“that, what you s’felt right there, that’s your little clit, y/n/n” jennifer inquires. soon hearing the dark-haired girl, lowly giggling breathlessly when she sees you continuing your little movements against the folded pillow in a desperate-seeming manner.

“how does s’feel?”

your eyes flicker up to hers once you hear the simple question she asks you. her bright ocean blues darkened so drastically, they basically look almost completely black. her intent gaze dark and half-lidded, her pearly teeth never stopping its assault on her plump lips.

“j-jen, it f-feels…”

at your stuttering whimper jennifer smirks wildly, her hands coming up to hold at your hips. pushing you down even harder against the pillow, making you let out a pitiful whine. “s-so n-nice” jennifer was practically rolling your hips on her own accord now at this point, peppering little teasing kisses along your sensitive neck and jaw while she did the actions, your eyes fluttering close at both of the sensations.

through your desired-filled moment, you started to hear her speak to you.

“y’wanna know what feels even better?”

at her question, you opened your eyes back up to look at her, patiently and curiously waiting for her to give you the information.

“it feels ‘s amazing when you're soaked and your panties are off”

you weren’t able to respond quick enough before you felt jennifer fingers going down your most sensitive parts, her fingers pulling your panties to the side and making contact with that special part of you she keeps telling you about; making you gasp out.

“j-jennifer…”

at the sound of her name, jennifer peers up at you. giving you a little smile before you then see her hand coming up to her mouth. you look at her with a confused expression, having no idea on what she was about to do. seeing and hearing the sharp, obscure sound of her then spitting in her hand, made your eyes widened immensely wide.

“jen, w-what-“

she didn’t reply to your clueless meeks, placing her palm back on your pussy and began rubbing in her spit onto the expanse of your folds and clit. your arousal practically dripped on her hand as she kept rubbing over you. loud moans and whimpers escaped your lips from left and right. unconsciously rutting your hips along her hand, basically riding her hand at this point.

“holy shit, y/n/n. i didn’t know you could be such a dirty fucking girl” jennifer groans in awe, looking at your core with so much intensity and lust. you felt like her stare could burn you alive right then and there, in that moment. with a chuckle under her breath, the flag girl pulled her now soaked hand away from your pussy. relishing in the way you whimpered out for her hand to be placed back on your little pussy.

she gave you her famous enticing, enchanting stare. her dainty fingers coming up to her juicy lips, rubbing the tips of her wet finger along her bottom lip; as if she was applying your arousal like a coat of lipgloss. her dark orbs slicing into yours harshly, her finger finally going into her mouth. licking and sucking your essance off her fingers before taking the digits out. a loud pop echoing throughout her bedroom.

“ride the pillow, baby. don’t stop until i tell you to”

⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧

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