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#so i can’t actually be attracted to women
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four
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TW: sexual harassment, no means yes, asshole doctors/doctor slander (sorry if you’re an actual good doctor), mentions of alcoholism/sickness, burns
You should probably decide to do whatever the opposite of man up is-pussy down?-and specifically request to not have Officer Ludlow ever be on your patient roster again. He’s bad for your health and, despite being the one always putting him back together, you’re bad for his, too. 
You’re trying not to morally question yourself about why you didn’t do something after the first, second, or hell, even third time he borderline sexually harassed you…  You’re trying not to think too much about why you don’t do it now: open the manager’s door with your shaking, clammy hand and say “hey, creepy patient, please keep him away from me”. It would be so easy. This stuff happens a lot to the other staff in the ED, and always gets solved without a problem. 
You don’t do it, though. You walk away without blacklisting Tom Ludlow. And doesn’t that just say mountains about you. But, anyway, you have your own job to do fighting disease and trauma from the mean streets of the City of Angels, so you don’t really have time for all this petty drama bullshit. 
Whatever helps you sleep at night.
You’re not really sure how it’s possible, after eight years of higher education plus residency training, but doctors really can be idiots sometimes. 
“Discharge, really?” You whisper to yourself, clicking on the order to see if it’s just a mistake-nope, legit. 
You grab the clipboard from your patient’s bedside and go hunt down Dr. Mercer, who is currently standing at the desk flipping through paperwork. 
“Hey, Julian, can I have a quick second?”
He gives you one of his signature, charming white smiles that can calm almost any belligerent patient down. “Of course. Anything for my favorite nurse.” He motions for you to sit in the swivel chair, and takes the one opposite from you. 
Julian makes it a point to give you his full attention, and that never fails to fluster you, but you can shoulder through it most of the time. The man is too handsome for his own good, and you haven’t found a female in this hospital immune to his charm-even Shelby, the housekeeper who is strictly attracted to women… and one man: Dr. Mercer. 
“You put in a discharge order for room 13?” 
“Hmm, one sec.” He leans over to click through the computer, then turns back. “Yes, is there a problem?”
“Well, I thought we would be admitting him?” 
“No, that won’t be necessary. He’s free to go home.” 
“Julian.” You’ve known this man for a whole year and should not be this hesitant about questioning a single order from him, but you take a big pause nonetheless. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem; any other doctor you could confront with ease, but Julian is so, so nice and he always gets your Starbucks order right and never lets you pay him back for it. You don’t want to be a dick to such a sweet person. “I don’t think he’s ready to be discharged. He’s a heavy drinker and his potassium is still low. Plus, he lives alone.” 
“His potassium is only one point off, y/n. And the rest of his labs look good. I can’t keep someone for alcoholism.”
Well, the good thing is that you’re not hesitant anymore, just really pissed, because obviously Dr. Mercer’s kindness and understanding doesn’t extend to his less fortunate patients. 
“Wow, that’s not okay, Julian.”
His smile fades a little bit, or just turns mean, you can’t really tell which, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m very busy. If this conversation is about morals, I’m afraid I don’t have time for it.” 
“It’s not about morals.” You try to lasso your anger, but it seeps into the tone of your voice like a hiss. “I’m concerned about patient safety, and his potassium is just going to drop further if we send him back to drink himself to death. And then he’ll have a heart attack.” 
“I treat current conditions. I can’t focus on what-ifs.” He tries to put his hand atop yours, but you pull back. 
All doctors are the same? What a shocker. You haven’t met even one who didn’t eventually do this shit, and Julian is no different despite your burgeoning hope that he was. 
“I’m not giving him that paperwork,” you say. “I’m not discharging him.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I’m not doing it.”
“We need to free up the bed for patients who need it.” 
“Do it yourself, then.” 
His smile falls the whole way down, and you can’t find it in your bleeding heart to care.
You need to get away from him before you say something that will make him want to get you your usual coffee order and then spit in it, but he grabs your forearm gently before you can. 
“Y/n-“
“I told you I’m not discharging him.” He lets you pull back. “And I really don’t have time for this.” 
***
You should just let it go, but by the time your break comes around, you are still quietly seething over Dr. Mercer’s idiotic order, and the way he fucking talked to you. 
You’ve come a long way, but sometimes when a man talks down to you with that certain tone, you still see red. 
Maybe it’s a character flaw, but after the hell you’ve lived through, you can’t help but feel entitled to some righteous feminine rage.
You’re alone in the little side nook with its hard plastic chairs that almost hurt you more than standing. But your feet need a break, so while you massage your foot your tailbone suffers.
You need a massage. A real, full-body rub-down–why is it, that the thought calls up the memory of a certain large, strong, calloused pair of hands that may or may not belong to a certain inappropriate officer of the law?
It’s possible you are staring into space, fantasizing about burning dark eyes unabashedly boring into yours as those mitts for hands–
A soft knock on the doorjamb pulls you back to the present–and the last person you want to see is taking up the whole doorway. It takes every iota of self-control you have left not to snarl, What do you want?
“Doctor?” You even put extra sugar into your tone, which he seems to sense is utterly manufactured judging by his awkward smile.
“Y/n.”
You wait silently, allowing the lift of one eyebrow that you fear conveys all your disdain. “I believe I owe you an apology.”
You blink, certain you misheard. 
“I’m sorry?”
“You were right. The patient was not ready for discharge.”
You blink again. Has hell warmed over? “I know,” you finally answer, which for some reason makes him smile. He takes the liberty to cross the room to sit down next to you, with only one plastic chair between you. 
“It took some courage to stand up to me. Well done.”
Dr. Julian Mercer is TV doctor hot–tall, broad shouldered, handsome. His thin scrubs do very little to conceal his lithe, athletic body underneath, and everyone in the hospital loves to titter about him as he breezes by. You’re not exactly immune to his charms, but failing to advocate for a patient for fear of displeasing him wouldn’t have even occurred to you.
“I just want what's best for my patients.” That, at least, is the truth. 
The good doctor nods, his longish hair swinging into his eyes. Maybe you do feel the slightest urge to brush it away. 
“Truly commendable, y/n.” Then he points at your foot, and makes a come hither gesture with his fingers.
You don't understand what he wants, and your face shows it. 
“Is your foot hurting you?”
Perpetually, is the answer, but you just nod dumbly.
“Give it here.”
“Why?”
His smile is gentle as spring rain. “I’m offering you an apology foot rub.”
“How wildly inappropriate,” you comment while extending your foot. You’ve eyed Dr. Julian’s hands before. They may be soft, but they are big, so maybe he could be of some use to you. 
He laughs at that; a short huff of laughter that possibly softens you a little towards him. And once your foot is in his hands–ok, that feels good, maybe better than good, and maybe Dr. Julian does know something about making the human body feel better. A small noise escapes you, and you are breaking so many hospital policies right now, but god dammit they work you to the bone here.
He’s even kind enough to do your other foot too, and by the time he’s done with you you’re leaning back in your chair on your hand with your eyes closed. You open one eye with a sigh as he gives the ball of your foot a finishing squeeze.
“Ok. I’m mostly not mad anymore.”
He gives a short guffaw at that. “You were mad?” Like he’s surprised you’ve taken any of this personally.
“Of course I was.”
“Oh.”
Strangely he doesn’t seem offended by this. “You really do care about your patients.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I'm not surprised. but…”
“But what?”
“It's hard on us as medical professionals, to take every case personally. We do our best, of course, but at the end of the day you have to keep some sliver of your heart back for yourself, or you won’t survive to help anyone tomorrow.”
You raise your eyebrows at that. It never would have even occurred to you not to give your heart and soul to anyone who needed it during your shift. 
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”
You can’t help but notice he still hasn't released your foot, toying with the curve of your big toe through your sock. 
“Perhaps we will.”
He is looking at you searchingly, and it’s all you can do not to flinch from that intuitive gaze.
“Thank you, Dr. Mercer.” 
He opens his mouth as though to say more, but one of your colleagues walks in, and that’s the end of your little moment.
***
Surprise, surprise, when the next night, Guess Who finds his way onto your examination table.
For fuck’s sake.
“Officer Ludlow. What brings you in tonight?”
You know you sound tired, look like hell, and smell like straight up human waste, but Tom looks extra happy to see you. “You work too much.”
You don’t have the energy to argue, much less with the truth. “Yeah, and you get injured too much.” Great, solid comeback, you really got him there. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
He whistles. “Bad mood. Damn.” 
“Just tell me what you’re fucking here for, Tom.” You plop down on the stool next to his bed, chin in your hand. 
He tugs his charred pant leg up, and beneath, so fresh it should be sizzling and smoking, is a nasty burn the size of your head. 
“How did you manage that?” You wince, leaning down to assess the damage. Luckily, it’s only second degree, shiny and bloody and wet and looking too painful to bear weight on. “How are you walking?” 
“Remember the sword?” 
“How could I forget?”
“Okay, well this time it was a flamethrower.”
“How are people getting their hands on this shit?” 
He shrugs, which makes you laugh for the first time all day. “Alright, I don’t think it’s third degree, but I need the doctor to-“
“Good evening Mr. Ludlow.” Julian has drawn back the curtain and stepped inside your little exam room with that branded, signature smile on his face.
“Hey, Julian-Doctor-can you take a look at this?”
While Julian looks at the burn, you sneak a peek at Tom, and see some type of look on his face-not confusion, not concern, more analyzing. Assessing. Thinking. 
“This your doctor boyfriend you were telling me about?”
You can almost hear the sizzle of heat making its way up your neck to your cheeks. This fucking bastard. Embarassing you at work, trying to catch you out in your lie. He levels that penetrating gaze with you, just the tiniest tick at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.
Yet he is not the only perceptive man in the room. Julian looks between the two of you, and you swear he reads the situation as clearly as a book. Without losing a beat, god bless, he goes into Full Authoritative Doctor Mode. “I am, not that my relationship with Miss y/n is any of your concern.”
Either of them could have pushed you over with a feather–you can hardly believe Julian is playing along.
“Sorry, doc. I’m a detective. Just curious by nature.” Ludlow levels Julian with a stony look, conveying that he didn’t believe the doctor–or he really didn’t like what he’d said.
“I’m sure you are,” answers Julian, throwing you a knowing look that only makes the fire under your collar ten times worse. “Can you go check on Mrs. Andersen in room 10, y/n? I can handle Officer Ludlow.”
Somehow, you kind of doubt that, and you find you’re reluctant to leave them alone in the room together. But, you’ve already been insubordinate once this week. They’re grown men. What’s the worst that could happen? 
Yet as you’re making your exit, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just left Dr. Mercer at the mercy of a wolf. 
You are glad you went to check on Mrs. Andersen, because she needed some warm assurance, on top of a slight adjustment of her IV. When you walk back out into the hall, headed for the nurses station, it’s almost as though the atmosphere has changed. No one else seems to sense it, but somehow you just know something is off. With dread in your heart you scurry back to where you’d left Ludlow and Mercer, bursting through the curtains.
They are standing toe to toe, nose to nose. It’s made a little more ridiculous by the bulky dressing on Tom’s calf, but you still don’t doubt his ability to wipe the floor with Dr. Julian. Which is a ridiculous fucking thing for you to have to worry about, but here you are.
You don’t raise your voice, not wanting to draw attention, but you do not hesitate to put yourself between them. You try not to notice how solid Tom’s chest is beneath your hand, compared to Julian’s. “That is enough.” You direct this at Tom, of course, because you have zero doubt as to who started it.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Tom complains childishly.
“Because I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid. But this asshole seems to think he owns you.”
You do lift an eyebrow at that, but it’s so not the issue at hand. “Do you want to be escorted out by security?”
“I think I’m done here anyway.” Ludlow picks up his jacket, glaring at Julian. “Thanks for the dressing, Doc.” His tone, however, more conveys Eat shit and die. Then he looks at you, and those burning dark eyes send an uneasy thrill to your toes–by way of your treacherous pussy, who does not seem to understand that men like Tom Ludlow are very bad for you. She has gotten you into so much trouble before, and by god you are not letting her run the show this time.
“Be seeing you, sweetheart.”
“Not on these hospital grounds, you’re not,” asserts Dr. Julian, and Tom, damn him, just laughs.
There is just something about that man’s presence that leaves behind traces of him in a room, long after he has gone. You just stand there, maybe rather stupidly, struggling to process what just happened. What is it about you, that attracts these cocky assholes that just can’t take no for an answer?
“Are you alright?” asks Julian, and you actually believe that he cares about you, concern written in his achingly handsome features, his kind hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry about him.”
He gives you a gently amused look. “You are not responsible for that man’s bad behavior.
And you won’t be treating him anymore.” 
You would argue, assert yourself, do that thing where you’re strong and independent and take care of the own sore skin on your back, but you really don’t have the energy right now, and Julian-fuck him-he’s right, you should not be Ludlow’s nurse anymore for his sake and yours. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, wishing it was the end of your shift. “Alright.” 
At least the rest of the night goes by fairly quickly, although that means you’re busy enough not to have another break, however, Julian-apologetic Julian, who brings you a turkey sandwich and makes you sit down and eat it and drink at least half a bottle of water-is making things a little better. 
The doctors don’t really get into the shit like you and your fellow nurses, although they are just as busy, and the fact that he takes time to be concerned about you after the emotional beginning of your shift really touches you. He knows he fucked up the other day, and he’s in full sweet cinnamon roll mode to try and rectify it. That’s why you can’t-and, if you’re being honest-don’t want to tell him no when he catches you in the parking lot before you get into your car. 
“Here, you left your stethoscope.” He loops it around your neck, then opens your driver’s door for you. 
“Julian, it really is okay.” You reach up to pat his lab coat shoulder in reassurance. “And I’m fine. Tom is just a big bully.” Why do you feel like you’re betraying him by talking shit to Julian in the parking lot? 
He looks down at you like he’s made up his mind about something, and grins. “Have coffee with me?”
You blink at him. “Like, right now?” 
“No, Saturday morning. Seven AM?” He grabs the spiral notebook and pen from his breast pocket and writes you his number. “Since I’m your boyfriend, I should take you out on a date, don’t you think?” 
Well, at least he’s asking nicely instead of being an asshole about it like some people… 
You chuckle, tuck the note and your hands into your scrub pockets, and hope the heat isn’t visible on your face. “Guess you’re right.” 
You might be playing a dangerous game, here, but hell, there’s a reason you work in the ED of a level one trauma center; you’re a sucker for cheap thrills
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napping-sapphic · 1 month
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Women are so attractive actually i love women so much it’s actually insane
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soshinee · 2 months
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finally watched alice in borderland & i think it’s very fucking sick and twisted that they cast sakurada dori as niragi. like the character is pure evil and he is great in the role, he plays it super sleazy and disgusting and irredeemable from beginning to end. but he is so handsome and attractive to look at it confuses my brain like wires are getting crossed somewhere in there and i don’t like it
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shoutyourporpoise · 2 months
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I know there are people saying the transmisogynist copypasta was not originally made by a trans man, but given the number of trans men I’ve seen dismissing it as “just a joke” I honestly don’t care who originated it because y’all clearly don’t find it opposed enough to y’all’s actual views to disavow it!!
While we’re fucking at it, no variation of “I think you’re fuckable” is a compliment or an indicator of allyship. I thought we hashed this out YEARS ago when we established that reblogging a picture of a trans woman going “SHE looks beautiful :) <3” and patting yourself on the back did not in fact absolve you of transmisogyny! How did so many people see that and go “ah. I understand. I need to get more explicit than ‘she looks beautiful.’ I need to spell out exactly what sex acts I would like to perform on her.”
Am I losing my MIND??? How are you people not just seeing this for textbook dudebro misogyny???
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void-tiger · 1 month
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Sometimes I think men find me “easy to talk to” because they forget that I’m a woman. And then when they do, they flip out on me. And I’m kinda fed up with it.
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eternitwo · 11 months
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i’ll be thinking i’m straight then look at my ex gf and be like hmm… she still cute tho
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ohmyfairies · 1 year
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I’m a dazai kinnie not because I’m mentally ill (I am) but because I too am attracted to chuuya nakahara and mad about it
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comfortcomes · 11 months
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i turn into this every time i see that post about loving pics of “normal” women
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earmo-imni · 1 year
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I’ve decided. I’m stealing Jericho from Nakaba and assigning her transmasc enby and aroace, because I genuinely don’t believe someone with as much gender and attraction weirdness as her can be straight and cis
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#I feel like I can’t even explain this emotion because it makes no sense to me#but sometimes I wish I was a gay man and not a lesbian#but I don’t even know what that would look like#because I’m a woman and not a man and I have no idea what it’s like to be attracted to men#I’m only into women#and I don’t know why I feel that way#it’s probably similar to the grass is always greener and with het stuff too#like I so often wish I was straight woman because all I have are my experiences#but at the same time I have a horrible trait of fictionizing everyone about myself in my life#so I’m probably doing it in this case too#like the idea of what a gay man is in my head but not actually a gay man??? I don’t know#because I look at men and I look at gay men and think yay good for you but no thank you at all#I know I’m attracted to women#I know I’m a woman#I know lesbians can br smart and kind and hot and beautiful#but at the same time it fills me with this sadness and resentment that I can’t even explain#and this is probably my sexuality ocd speaking#but I hyper fixate on women or couples I don’t find attractive#instead of the ones I do#so I start to think I’m lying or tricking myself or maybe i just want to be oppressed and I’ve made the whole thing up#or oh I can’t possibly be a lesbian if I find a woman ugly or I’m not attracted to her or I have weirdly high standards (ot what I perceive#to be because genuinely I don’t think I do#and I guess with my trauma as well and they way the community is I just feel very detached from myself and confused#so my brain starts latching onto anything that isn’t me and convinces me it’s better#blah blah woe is me lol#tw homophobia#tw ocd#tw sexuality ocd#personal
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nereidprinc3ss · 14 days
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
read part one here!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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scarlethexelove · 1 month
Text
Our Omega
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Pairing: Alpha!WandaNat x Omega!Reader
Word Count: 5155
Warnings: Smut, Wanda and Nat have a penis, Soft!Nat, Rough!Wanda, Heat, Mating mark, Knotting, Breeding, Someone tries to attack reader but Wanda and Nat stop them, Hints to lactation kink, I really don't think there is much else.
A/n: I really hope this isn't shit. I really liked writing this. Wanda isn't too rough in this one but definitely rougher than Nat. Just sweet alphas who don't treat their sweet Omega like shit.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The door chimes causing your gaze to lift to the opening door. You’re shocked to see the people walking through the door. The Avengers have just walked through the door of your small bakery. Leading the group is the pack leader along with her mate. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, two alpha’s. The rest of the mostly alpha pack followed close behind. Normally so many alpha’s in an area won’t bother you but with you so close to your heat and being an unmated omega is making it difficult with all of them around. You put on a mask knowing you need to be your best when the most famous people in the world are in your bakery. 
With a wide smile you greet the group. “Hi, I’m Y/n. We have a wide array of baked goods for you to choose from. Just let me know what you would like and I’ll get them all ready for you.” Wanda tilts her head looking at you curiously but you just give her soft smile back. Nat is also watching you but you can’t seem to read her. The gaze of both the alpha’s on you causes a light dusting of pink to cover your cheeks.  The rest of the group looked around to see what they wanted to eat. 
Nat clears her throat. “Everyone wait outside.” She demands the rest. “But I want to look.” Tony whines. Nat turns to look at the rest. “I said wait outside. We will get everyone something.”  Nat’s demanding tone has your inner omega wanting to submit causing you to shrink in on yourself. As the rest go to wait outside the two alpha’s turn back to you noticing you’re dropped head and smaller form. “I’m so sorry mega. I thought it would be easier without everyone.” 
You wanted to be thankful for what she did but at the same time you need to be able to handle a room full of alpha’s if you want to have a successful business. But you know she just meant well by her actions. You lift your head and give her a small smile. Brushing off your previous distress and ready to help the two women with everything they need. 
With less alpha’s in the room their scents invade your senses. One of their scents laced with cinnamon and spices, reminding you of fall. The other smelling of sweet vanilla. Both of their scents are intoxicating already. Both women are very attractive but you know you can’t think like that they are already a mated pair and they probably wouldn’t want an omega like you. So you push it out of your mind and focus on running your business.
“What can I get for you?” You ask the women. They look around for a minute before Nat speaks up. “Two of everything.” You can’t help the look of shock at the woman's order. “A-are you sure?” She gives you a kind smile. “Yes please.”  You nod and start moving around to get everything you need. “Of course. I’ll have everything ready for you in a few minutes.” You move around the area gracefully. Throwing in a few extras as you go. Wanting nothing more than to satisfy the Avengers. 
You can feel their eyes following you but you are in your groove currently. Once you are done with everything they come up to the counter and Natasha pulls out her wallet. You wave your hands and shake your head. “No, no, no. It’s on the house, my treat. You guys do so much for the city. The least I can do is give you guys some food.” Nat shakes her head back at you. “I’m not sure your boss would like that. Also I insist.” She starts pulling out money ready to pay. “I’m actually the owner so I can give you whatever I want.” You tell the alpha. You would normally never talk back to an alpha, especially an Avenger but you want to get your point across. But neither of them are going to take no for an answer. Wanda takes some money out of Nat’s hands and gives it to you. You look down at the cash and back up at the alpha’s. You can tell by the looks on their faces that they will not take no for an answer. So you look back down at the cash in your hand and gasps. “This is way too much.” In your hand is almost $500 dollars, way more than what it cost to get everything. 
Both alpha’s shake their heads. “Keep it. You deserve it.” Wanda says. She has the softest and kindest smile you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t think I can take this.” You stutter trying to hand some of the money back but neither of them will have it. Wanda takes your hands in hers. “Please take it.” You look at her hands around yours and then back up to her face. A small blush covering your face when you nod. “Okay.” You say barely above a whisper. She smiles before she and Nat take the baked goods, making their way out leaving you shocked. 
That is how your friendship with the Avengers started. After that day you saw at least one of them once a week. Sometimes alone and sometimes the whole team would come in. You built a friendship with each member but as they continue to come a crush on the two women formed. They were always so sweet and kind with you. Nat plays up a big persona of being hard and little emotion but you can see right through that facade. Which only makes your crush grow stronger, but you know you can’t act on it. So you leave it at that just a crush. 
With the Avengers frequenting your bakery your business picks up exponentially. You had to hire more employees to help you keep up. One of those being your best friend Kate Bishop. You thank the Avengers for their business and the fact they have brought in more customers for you. Always trying to give them free food but none of them ever take it. 
Today wasn’t like other days. You had 3 call offs and your heat was quickly approaching. You thought that you had a few more days but as the day drags on you know you won’t make it. You have already called Kate who had the day off hoping she could cover. She of course said she would but it would take her some time to get there. So now you’re fighting your heat and just waiting for her to get here. 
The room is filled with alpha's, some of them pausing to look at you. A hungry look in their eyes as they realize what is going on with you. You want to run and hide but you can’t leave the store unattended so you suck it up the best you can. That is until a wave of burning stabbing pain hits your lower abdomen. You wrap your arms around your stomach, hunching over as you hold in a whimper. You don’t even hear the ringing of the bell as another patron enters the building. Another stronger wave has you crumbling to the ground, a whimper escaping your lips. 
You can now faintly hear a commotion but you can’t focus on the words or voices. You look up seeing an alpha about to jump over the counter when they are pulled back harshly. There is a commanding roar of an alpha that causes you to whine and bare your neck waiting for the alpha to approach. You wish your inner omega was stronger but with your heat here you can’t control it. Two alpha’s approach you quickly crouching down next to you. You let out another whine and strain your neck more. 
“Oh milaya, none of that.” Wanda’s hand cups your cheek. Both of their scents invade your senses, calming you down slightly. You can’t help but nuzzle her hand causing her and the other woman to smile at you. A whimper escapes as another wave of pain courses through you. Leaving the women concerned for you. They have been falling for you just as much as you for them but they were worried you wouldn’t like them back or want to be involved with Avengers. 
Just then Kate rushes in the door, her eyes scanning the room seeing that there had been a scuffle. Concerned for your safety when she can’t see you. She knows your heat is close, that is until she catches a whiff of your scent. She knows that you have gone into heat and how dangerous it is for you to have been here. She rushes around the counter stopping when she sees you curled in on yourself as Nat and Wanda crouch next to you. Wanda’s hand is still on your cheek. She lets out a growl at the woman. She knows that you aren’t in any danger with them but she instinctively wants to protect you while you’re so vulnerable. Neither of them move their concern only on you. 
“Kate, we are here to help. We don’t want to hurt her.” Nat speaks calmly to the other omega. Kate looks from them back to you. She can see you, how you're trying to nuzzle in further to Wanda. She lets out a sigh. “Sorry alpha.” She puts her head down. Becoming part of the Avengers pack as Yelena’s omega has gotten her close to them and she didn’t want to disrespect the pack leader. “It’s ok. I know you are only trying to protect your friend.” Nat moves closer to you leaning down and moving to pick you up. She acts slowly to give you the chance to pull away but you don’t. It makes the woman smile as she picks you up. You quickly wrap yourself tightly around her and nuzzle into her scent gland. Breathing in her cinnamon scent that calms you. 
“I think we will take her to the compound, she will be safe there. I don’t trust that after those alphas coming after her that she will be safe. They could easily follow her home.” Nat speaks to both Wanda and Kate. They both nod in agreement. “Kate, do you have this here?” Nat asks as she holds you closer to her. “Yeah I think I got this.” Kate replies before the door chimes. All three women go on defense growling at the scent of another alpha but all calm when they realize who it is. Kate’s mate Yelena struts through the door holding up her hands in surrender to the three as you whimper in Nat’s arms. 
Yelena smirks at the older alpha when she sees you in her arms, wrapped tightly around the woman like a koala. Nat rolls her eyes when she sees how her sister is looking at her. “Lena!” Kate says bouncing over to her and throwing her arms around her neck pecking her lips. Yelena’s hands placed firmly on Kate’s hips. “Yel help Kate out here we are taking Y/n to the compound. Some alphas attacked so maybe help her clean up a bit.” Yelena looks around at the mess brows furrowed as Nat speaks. That is until she catches your sweet scent. Instantly understanding your predicament and understanding why the three were growling at her as she came in the door. 
“Please be careful you two.” Wanda tells the alpha and her omega, handing Kate some money. Kate looks at the money and then back up to Wanda confused. “For damages.” Wanda explains. Kate is about to argue back about that but the look Wanda gives her tells her there is no room for that. She is second in command of the pack and will not take no for an answer. So Kate gives her a nod moving to start cleaning up the place, Yelena helping her mate clean as the two women leave with you. 
Once the alphas get you to the compound they take you to the spare bedroom next to theirs not wanting to overstep any boundaries you might have. It has been hard for them to fight their inner alphas to not to just claim you as theirs. You’re currently wrapped around Wanda tightly as she walks into the room. She goes to put you on the bed but you don’t let go. “Malyshka can you let go?” She asks softly, but your only response is to shake your head and whine. Being in their arms is the most comfort you have had in a long time dulling the ache.
So the women decide to take you into their own room. If it provides you the comfort you need they will take the suffering to make you feel even the slightest bit better. Wanda sits down on the bed with you still wrapped around her. Your head in her neck as you let her scent drown out your senses. Nat walked away from the two of you for a few minutes before coming back. In her arms is a plethora of blankets. She sets them on the bed next to Wanda. “Detka?” She crouches down in front of you two and says softly. “Can you please come out? I brought you blankets for a nest.” Her voice is still soft, watching you for any movement. 
Slowly you pull your head out, eyes landing on the pile. You hesitantly move not wanting to leave the comfort of the alpha but your inner omega is telling you to build your nest. “Thank you Nat.” You whisper, taking the blankets and moving to a corner of the room. It has been a losing battle to fight your inner omega who just craves the women. But you don’t want to overstep too much so you build your nest in the corner. You crawl into it moving things around till you’re comfortable. 
Being around the alphas has dulled your pain. It is still there but in less intense waves, but the slick has increased. You can now feel it coating your thighs. The two have watched you intently, hard uncomfortable bulges in their pants. Wanting nothing more than to claim you as their own. It isn’t until your small voice breaks the silence in the room that they break from the trance. “Alphas?” You whimper. The women quickly move over to you concerned that something could be wrong. You look up to them with tears in your eyes, scared to ask anything more of them but craving their comfort. 
Wanda’s hand gently cups your face, her thumb rubbing over your cheek gently. “Yes, omega. Do you need anything?” Wanda’s softness makes you purr as you nuzzle. “Please stay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they hear you. The women share a look before they agree. Nat gets in front of you which you instantly cuddle into her side, your head instinctively nuzzling into her neck. Wanda slots herself behind you. Both of them cuddle you tightly. 
Nat notices it instantly, your warm slick slowly coating her thigh. You start grinding against her thigh. Your brain is not even registering it until you let out a soft moan. A look of panic crossing your face when you realize what you are doing. “I-I-I’m sorry.” You try to pull away but their arms wrapping around you tightly keeps you in place. “What do you need mega?” Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles. You let out another whine at her words wanting to beg them to use you, breed you, mark you, to become their mate. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, sweet girl.” Nat kisses your forehead letting her lips linger there. 
You look up to the woman in front of you. “I want you, both of you.” You whisper. They are both slightly shocked but not entirely due to your recent actions. Nat’s hand cups your cheek. “Are you sure? This isn’t just your heat?” You shake your head no at her words. “Wanted you for a while. Didn’t think you wanted me. I’m nothing special.” You look down out of embarrassment waiting for the rejection, but it doesn’t come. Nat’s finger hooks under your chin, making you look back up  at her. She gently kisses your lips before pulling back your breaths mingling together in the open space. “We want you too, and you are special. You are the most kind and gentle person we have ever met.” 
It’s so quick that you don’t even notice. Wanda’s arms are removed from you and Nat has pushed you on your back hovering over you. “If you want us to stop or you change your mind you can tell us.” Nat tells you gently pecking your lips. “Are you sure you want this mega?” Wanda asks you. You nod your head. “We need words pretty girl.” You look at Wanda who is laying on her side with her head propped on her hand. “Want you.” Was the only words that slipped past your lips. In an instant with red whisps all of your clothes are gone. You look at Wanda a bit shocked, a smirk playing on her lips. 
Soon the alphas' clothes soon follow. Their rock hard cocks springing free of their confines. You feel Nat’s slap against your stomach causing you to look down. Your eyes widen at her sheer size wondering how she will fit. Your eyes then trail to Wanda. She looks even bigger than Nat, not by much but a noticeable difference. You can feel more of your slick coating your thighs as you whine. 
Nat kisses your head as her hand guides her cock to your folds. Swiping through them coating herself in your arousal, her tip nudging against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a moan as she keeps nudging. When she is satisfied, she moves the tip down to your entrance, looking at you for your confirmation that you're still ok. When you give her a nod, she slowly starts to push in. Slowly sinking her cock into your wet and warm cunt. 
“Fuck so tight.” Nat moans as your walls clamp around her member. You’re so thankful for your heat, your slick allowing her to slip in easily. You wrap your legs around her waist as she sinks in further. When her thighs meet your ass you gasp at the fullness. You’ve never felt this full in your life and it feels so right. 
Nat gives you some time to adjust to the stretch fighting her inner alpha to just pound into you mercilessly. Wanda turns your head leaning in to kiss you. Her hands reach between your bodies as she finds your breasts. Her fingers expertly tweaking your nipples causing you to moan in her mouth distracting you from the fact that Nat has pulled almost all the way out before sinking back in. Her pace is slow at first just getting used to you. You feel so good and she doesn’t want to cum too early. 
When Nat feels like she can, her pace quickens. She fucks into you gently, her thrust deep as she angle just right. Hitting your spot deep inside. Wanda’s mouth is still on yours as she swallows all of your moans. Enjoying your full breast in her hands, groping at pinching her nipples as her mate fucks into you. 
You don’t expect the alpha to be so gentle as she fucks you but it feels so good from her. Her caring and soft side showed through with every thrust of her hips. She leans up grabbing your hips watching as her cock disappears into your hole. Entranced by your sweet scent and how you take her so well. How your hips buck into her to meet her thrust trying to get her that much deeper. The outline of her cock bulging from your skin, she presses down and a loud moan is escaping you. She looks back up to watch as Wanda devours you, catching every whimper and moan until you can’t keep up anymore. 
“So pretty and made for us. Taking me so well.” Nat praises you. “So perfectly wrapped around my cock squeezing me so tight. Fuck.” She moans when you clench. Your panting, eyes closed as your orgasm builds. One of Wanda’s hands drifting down between both of your bodies finding your bundle of nerves pinching it between her fingers. You cry out in pleasure and pain as she continues. Both women bring you so close to the edge. Your walls squeezing Nat tight, her grunts and moans filling your ears. Her knot starts to form hitting against your entrance, just begging to fill you. 
Wanda’s hand continues toying with your clit as Nat drives her hips into you. Your legs are slightly shaking around Nat’s hips. She leans back down the more her knot swells. You're both close to cumming. She kisses your scent gland sending small waves of pleasure. Her hips become more erratic when her knot fully forms. Slamming against your entrance. With a few more thrust her knot pops in and her teeth sink into your neck. You cry out in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. She marks you claiming you as her omega. Filling you with her cum as your back arches. Grinding into you as white hot ropes of cum fill you. Your cum coating her cock as your walls squeeze her knot, milking her dry. She lets your neck go and licks your wound clean. You look up at her curious and hopeful eyes. She smiles and leans her head giving you access to the opposite side from where Wanda bit. You lean up sinking your teeth in her scent gland. She moans out and you don’t know how it is possible but you can feel a few more spurts of cum filling you. Which just causes you to moan around her bite. You release her and lick it clean just as she had done for you. 
You’re both panting, Nat’s knot locking you together until it deflates. Wanda’s hands move away giving you two a chance to bond. Nat takes the time to gently move you both so that you are on your side. You feel the bond growing strong as you bask in the aftermath. She gently kisses your lips before leaning her forehead against yours. The room is silent until you break it. “Thank you.” You whisper between you two. Nat smiles. “No need to thank me detka. I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” The three of you laugh. It’s funny how you all wanted each other but none of you thought the other would. “Me too.” You smile, your breath still heavy between you two. 
When Nat’s knot finally deflates she removes herself from you. You let out a whimper at the lost feeling empty as your mixed cum leaks out of you. Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles against the naked skin. “My turn malyshka. I want you to ride me.” You look back at her, your eyes wide. “I-I’ve never.” You stutter a little having never ridden anyone before. She kisses your shoulder again. “That’s ok detka. You’re going to look so beautiful bouncing on my cock.” 
You feel Wanda shift as she lays on her back. You turn yourself to look at her. She has her hands behind her head and her cock standing proud. You don’t know how she was so patient when you look at her cock. Her tip is angry red and pre-cum has leaked all down her shaft. Her hand moves to wrap around and gently jerk herself. She had wanted to save all of her cum for you to fill you even fuller than you already were. You hesitate for a moment before getting up and shifting. Throwing your leg over her hips hovering over her cock. Her hand is firmly around her cock lining it up with your entrance. You look at her for a second when she gives you a reassuring smile. You give her a small smile before you start to slowly sink down on her. 
Wanda moves her hand back behind her head as she watches you sink down. “Fuck your right Natty. So fucking tight. Fuck even after you fucked her she is tight.” You blush at her words, finally sitting fully in her lap. You didn’t think you could feel this full. Both of them fit you so perfectly like they were made just for you. 
You grind your hips experimentally, the movement causing you and Wanda to moan. You can see the cocky smirk on her face as she waits for you to fuck yourself on her cock. “Fuck I can feel both of your cums leaking all over my cock.” She bucks her hips up, enticing you to move. You groan, taking her hint as you lift yourself up before slamming yourself down. You set a slow and steady pace as you figure out your moments. Bringing yourself up before dropping back down. Wanda enjoys the sight of your breast bouncing every time you sink back down. 
But your pace is a bit slow for the woman. “Ride me like you mean it detka. I want to see you fuck yourself on my cock.” You whimper, nodding your head and picking up the pace. Bouncing on her cock and grinding your hips when you meet her pelvis. The sight in front of her is perfect as the perfect omega rides her. Even at this angle Wanda can see a perfect outline of her cock filling your tight hole. Moaning knowing that you're so full of her and that she is going to fill you even more. 
Whimpers and moans fill the room as you continue to fuck yourself on her cock. Soon you feel hands on your waist as Nat moves closer to you two she helps guid you quicker on fucking her mate. Wanda’s hands moving to your plush thighs digging her fingers into the soft flesh. Starting to buck her hips up to meet you. Fucking you harder than Nat did. 
“Such a whore for us already. Taking our fat cocks in your tight little hole. Look at that.” Wanda presses her hand down hard on the bulge that appears on your lower abdomen. You cry out from the pleasure and her words, looking down to see her cock moving inside of you. Your walls clench her tightly at the sights. “Oh fuck you like that don’t you little whore. Love being fucked by your alpha’s.” Wanda’s moans, her words a stark contrast to Nat’s praises. She is rougher with her thrusts. Showing a different side to each woman. 
Nat turns your head towards her and kisses you hungrily. Wanda sits up planting her feet and thrusting up hard and rough. You love the difference between the two. A gentle Nat and a rougher Wanda. It turns you on immensely more slick coating Wanda’s cock the harder she drives her hips up into you. Nat still helping you fuck yourself down on her cock. 
“Such a perfect cock drunk whore for us. So pretty being our little cum dump, just for us to use.” With every word that Wanda speaks it sends you closer to the edge, your walls clamping down on her. You don’t know how she can keep her rough pace as your walls suffocate her cock. She moans as your walls tighten, her knot forming and pressing against your entrance begging to slip in. Wanda nibbles at your perky nipples. “Want to be bred full of our cum? Fill you with our pups?” You moan into Nat’s mouth mumbling a yes. 
“These tits would look so perfect, full of milk, your belly swollen with our pups.” She bites down on your nipple causing you to break the kiss from nat and cry out. “Mmm.” You whimper, her thrust becoming erratic as your knot fully forms. Nat lets your waist go and Wanda wraps her arms around you thrusting up harder and faster. You didn’t think she could go any harder or faster but it has you moaning louder. Your arms tightly wrapped around her as your nails dig into her back causing her to moan at the sting.
Wanda moves her head to the other side of your neck biting into your other scent gland as her knot slips inside locking you two together. You scream out and throw your head back as your vision blurs, cumming harder than you ever have before. Wanda’s cum joins Nat’s deep inside you filling the void and feeding the desires of your inner omega. Your whole body trembles in her hold as your bond forms. She pulls away, licking your wound. She lets you take the side opposite of Nat’s mark cementing your bond to both women. Small spurts of cum still fill you as Wanda grinds helping you both to ride out your highs. 
When you come down your rigid body slumps into Wanda nuzzling into her neck. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, kissing the side of your head. Her fingers gently rubbing at your back. Your arms loosely wrapped around her exhaustion taking over as you close your eyes. 
“Are you ok sweet girl?” Wanda questions kissing your head again. You hum in response, throat raw from your previous actions. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” You could hear the concern in her voice. So you pull back a soft smile playing on your lips. “No, it was perfect. Both of you.” Your voice is hoarse. You look back at Nat who pecks your lips. You would think that Nat would be jealous of how your body reacted to Wanda but all you can see is the love in her eyes. The stark contrast between the two is something you already love. How gentle Nat praising you as she fucked into you and how Wanda was rougher degrading you. 
When Wanda’s knot deflates they both help you up on wobbly legs taking you to a warm bath and cleaning you up. Your heat subsiding for the moment, a relief you thought you would never have. You’re all now cuddled up in your nest, your head on Nat’s chest, Wanda’s arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes droop shut as exhaustion from the day's events gets to you. If someone had told you that you would end up being the omega mate to two Avengers you would have laughed in their face but right now wrapped up with them is all you could have ever wished for. The love of two powerful and amazing alphas and they are all yours. “I love you two.” You mumble so close to sleep. Both women were smiling. “We love you too.” Wanda kisses your shoulder and Nat kisses your head. “Our omega.”
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kissitbttr · 5 months
Text
miguel with a jealous fiance
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“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.
you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.
but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.
Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.
miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?
god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.
“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”
scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.
“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”
jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”
“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”
with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.
sorry, jess. no promises.
you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.
and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.
it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.
as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.
but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.
“i just think, that you are sooo-“
“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”
miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“
“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.
a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’
the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.
“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“
with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”
miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.
she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“
“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”
the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.
the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.
“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“
“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”
she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.
“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”
jealous. you hate that word.
everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.
“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”
miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.
bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.
he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.
you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”
“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”
rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”
he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”
you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.
yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.
“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”
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astrow1zar6 · 4 months
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Astro Observations-014
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If you wanna date someone who’s basically impossible to get to know date a Scorpio moon. I find they really don’t trust anyone. Not even close friends that have known them for years. Any sign of betrayal even if it’s small will cause this sign to never tell you certain things again. You guys need to realize not everyone is trying to hurt you.
A lot of Scorpio Venus’s/mars grew up seeing a lot of jealousy & manipulation from relationship’s (mostly from family) they normally pick up from this and carries it to their relationships.
Libra placements will flirt with people they have no interest in for attention. They break a lot of hearts. They act like they aren’t aware they do it but they definitely are. Y’all can’t mess with ppls feeling like that 😕
Aquarius sun women are either really popular and social or really outcasted and antisocial
Aquarius moons can be really mean when people become too emotional around them. I believe tho ironically this is the most emotional Aquarius placement. They hate dealing with others emotions because their emotions are so deep themselves that dealing with other’s problems can become too overwhelming.
Pisces risings are so secretive about their romantic relationships (Libra in 8th house) most people never know who they’re dating or talking too. They prefer a private love life.
Aquarius Venus’s are fashion icons. They can make some of the weirdest pieces look so expensive
Sagittarius and Geminis are the most compatible pair of opposites imo. I’ve seen these signs stay together for soooo long
Leo moons have the least confidence out of all the leo placements I noticed. They are really sensitive and the smallest ounce of disapproval can break these people. Be gentle with them plz🥺
Virgo suns all look so clean, they also smell like heaven too (ESPECIALLY with a Leo Venus) they all give princess vibes.
People with a 12th house taurus value stability sooo much but can never seem to settle their restless nature. This is one of their biggest challenges (cuz of their Gemini rising)
Whatever element you lack in your chart you’re more likely to find people that have that element. Ex: if you lack water placements, you’ll be more attracted to water dominants because they give you what you lack in a way.
Capricorn risings usually hate their smiles, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. A lot feel like their smile ruins their face.
When you have a lot of 12th house placements people normally make assumptions about you that aren’t even close to who you actually are.
Pisces men are the most confusing in a relationship you never know if they actually like you or not. They are so charming and lovey but deep down it feels kinda fake?
Taurus mars work the best when they are working with their hands or they’re working in nature
Virgo mercury’s are amazing writers and usually love reading. Many can be successful novelists.
I feel like the least compatible compatible signs are Taurus and Virgo. I’ve seen the spark die so quick in these relationships and they normally stay together because it “works” practically. But I notice they get more irritated with each-other as time goes.
I notice men that have a lot of kids from different women have a Jupiter in their 5th house. Or just a lot of 5th house placements.
Venus in 5th housers tend to have more girls than boys. Their first child was probably a girl. Also indicates very attractive children.
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togrowoldinv · 5 months
Text
The Clubhouse
WandaNat x Female Reader
When the richest members of the country club approach you about joining their relationship, you can’t say no to them.
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving), strap on sex (R and W receiving), essentially sugar mommies
Note: Enjoy!
WandaNat Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Natasha’s raspy voice asks.
You barely hear her over the sound of your own heart beating. She is so close to you. Her hand is on your thigh, just a little too high to be friendly. Her nose presses against your neck.
“Yeah. It’s just- this is coming out of nowhere,” you say.
“Is it?” Wanda asks. Her tone is a bit condescending. You can’t help but press your thighs together at the way it makes you feel.
“We’ve been flirting with you for months now,” Natasha says. “You haven’t noticed?”
You shake your head. Wanda grabs your chin a little roughly to force you to look into her eyes. This is way too intimate for a public area of the clubhouse. A corner booth doesn’t offer much privacy.
Wanda and Natasha frequent this bar area often after their visits to the course. You never knew that they paid any attention to you working.
“Use your words, baby,” Wanda instructs.
“No, I didn’t notice,” you reply.
“That’s a shame,” Wanda says. “We thought about you every night. Didn’t we, Natasha?”
“Mhm, we did,” Natasha agrees. She moves her mouth to your neck and leaves a few opened mouth kisses. “Every night as I buried my face in my wife’s pussy I thought about what yours might taste like.”
You bite your lip and can’t help but close your eyes at the feeling of her lips, and her words make you feel unspeakable things.
Wanda presses her lips to the other side your neck, following the same delicate pattern that Natasha did.
“And when I rode her strap, I thought about how good you’d look doing the same. Being so good for us,” Wanda says.
“What did you say, baby? Will you join us?” Natasha asks.
You almost nod without speaking, but you remember Wanda said to use your words.
“Yes,” you breathe out. You’re not really sure why you agree, but you know that you want to see where this goes. “I- um- I don’t get off until 8.”
“I can fix that,” Natasha says. She gets up from beside you. You miss her warmth already.
“Let’s go to the car,” Wanda says. She holds your hand and walks with you to the door. Natasha meets you there.
“You’re free to leave,” Nat says. She places a hand on your back to lead you out of the clubhouse. “And don’t worry, this will be better than any tip you’ll get from these men.”
Outside, there is a car waiting for Wanda and Nat. They help you into the backseat with them. Their thighs press against yours as they sit close. Natasha fields a few calls on the car ride to their house.
When you arrive, the driver opens the door to reveal the absolute mansion Wanda and Nat live in. The two women walk you inside. They share a nod and Wanda walks to the other room. Natasha ushers you into the living room.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Natasha says. She gestures to the couch. You sit and watch as she makes a drink. “Would you like one?”
“I’m okay,” you reply.
“Y/n,” she says as she walks to the couch. She is wearing a fur coat that reveals enough of her chest that you want to see more. Her blonde hair is styled perfectly. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” you say too quickly. “Intimidated by you is actually it.”
“Ah, okay,” Natasha says. “And Wanda?”
“Same thing,” you tell her.
“We’re just people, you know.”
Wanda enters the room. She shed her blazer and is now wearing dress pants and a white blouse. Her brown hair cascades over the material.
“I made you a drink,” Natasha says to Wanda.
“Thank you, my love,” Wanda replies. She takes her drink from the table and sits on the couch on the other side of you. “So, what did I miss?”
“Oh nothing,” Nat replies.
“Did you tell her what we want?” Wanda asks as if you aren’t there. Nat shakes her head. “Well, then I will. Y/n, we are very attracted to you. And we wanted to ask you to join us. No strings attached. Just sex. What do you think?”
“I- um-”
“Wanda, don’t scare her,” Natasha jumps in. Her hand rubs your back. “We can take it slow. For example, can I kiss you?”
“Okay,” you agree.
Natasha’s hand comes to your neck as she pulls you in for a kiss. Her plump lips brush against yours softly. You feel your entire body burning with pleasure. She doesn’t deepen the kiss, but it was enough to make you think you’d say yes to anything she asked.
“How was that?” Natasha asks.
“Wow,” you say seriously. The blonde chuckles.
“Wanda, why don’t you try,” Nat tells her wife.
Wanda pulls you her way and kisses your lips much in the same way that Natasha did. She tastes different though. Her kiss is hungrier. You get the feeling this was her idea and Nat is doing it to make her happy. Not that she minds.
When Wanda stops kissing you, Natasha is quick to bring her in for a kiss. The two of them kiss in front of you. The sight of their tongues mingling alone is enough to get you off.
“You like that?” Natasha asks you. She noticed the way you were staring.
You nod. Wanda suddenly leans forward and bites your neck. It hurts but not more than it feels good.
“Words, detka. Words,” she says.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
Wanda seemingly forgives you as she kisses your lips again. Nat moves her deft fingers over your button up. It seems she is magic as she unbuttons all of them by the time Wanda moves her attention to your chest.
The brunette uses her hands to push open your shirt. Your bra falls to the side. You assume Natasha also took that off you when Wanda was distracting you with her intoxicating lips.
“So beautiful,” Wanda breathes out. “I have imagined this.”
Natasha stands from the couch. She opens her coat to reveal she is completely naked aside from a red strap connected to her hips. Your eyes go wide at the sight. Wanda grins. She takes your nipple into her mouth while she takes the other with her fingers.
“Do you want to ride my strap, baby?” Natasha asks you.
“Yes please,” you say.
“Good girl,” Natasha says.
She sits on the couch next to you, pulling you onto her lap. She moves the tip of the strap over your folds. Wanda sits up higher on the couch and takes her wife’s breast into her mouth. Natasha slips the strap into you. You press your forehead against hers as she fills you up.
“Fuck, I knew she could take your cock so well,” Wanda says.
“I know, sweetheart. She is so fucking wet and tight,” Natasha says.
“I can’t wait to taste her for myself,” Wanda says. “To make her feel so good.”
Natasha’s hands move your hips back and forth as she pounds the strap into you. She hits the sweet spot over and over again. You feel yourself losing control.
“Come for me, y/n,” Nat instructs you.
You come hard against her strap, slowing your movements until you fall against her. She kisses your head softly. A stark contrast of how she was just pounding into you. The two women give you a moment to catch your breath.
Nat helps you slip off her strap. Wanda kneels on the floor in front of the couch. She spreads your legs open again before burying her face between them. Nat situates herself behind Wanda. She pulls her pants down her legs enough to gain access to her. Nat presses her strap into her wife.
Wanda groans as she feels Nat bury herself deep into her. The taste of you gets her high quickly. You squirm under her tongue and that spurs her on further.
“So fucking good,” Natasha says, accentuating each word with the movement of her hips.
“Fuck,” you mumble. You won’t last much longer.
You see Natasha smirk as she feels Wanda coming against her. Her pleasure is enough to finish you off. Coming hard against Wanda’s tongue, you fall apart.
The two women stop their ministrations and catch their breath. Wanda takes the strap off of Natasha’s hips. She kisses the woman before directing her to sit on the couch.
“I want to see you eat her out,” Wanda says to you.
“Yes ma’am.”
You stand from the couch and kneel before Natasha. Her strong hands direct you exactly where she wants you. Natasha smirks at how in heaven you look between her legs. Wanda moves her fingers over Nat’s pussy lips to work in tandem with your tongue.
“That’s it, baby. Make her feel so good,” Wanda says. She lifts your head to kiss you before pushing you back to Natasha’s clit. You suck her until her hips stutter beneath you.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Natasha says.
Wanda removes her hand to let you have the moment when Natasha comes to yourself. She is so beautiful falling apart underneath you. Once she comes down from her high, she pulls you up into her lap. You rest your head on Natasha’s shoulder.
Wanda sits next to you and the three of you recover together.
“How do you feel, y/n?” Wanda asks.
“I’m good,” you say. And you really are.
“I think this is going to work out just fine,” Natasha says.
After that day, Natasha and Wanda continue to see you at the clubhouse. Whenever they ask you to leave with them, you never turn them down. Why would you? They are absolutely perfect.
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bloodykora · 7 months
Text
I Meant It
I finally wrote an actual one shot for Buggy :)
Summary: You 'babysit' Buggy while he's only a head.
No use of y/n however reader is referred to gal and very feminine pet names (I normally write gender neutral but this was very self serving). I had to write this on my phone so if the format is different from my norm, that is why.
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“I think his nose is cute.” A voice breaks out for the first time in the conversation, the other two slowly turning towards you in shock and judgement.
“I beg your pardon sweet thing?” Sanji is the first to break the moment of silence, you raise your shoulders at him. 
“I don’t know, he's like. Okay, you know those cats who have a limb missing and they go to scratch with that limb and everyone’s like ‘awww’. That’s kinda how I think I am with him right now, look at him. He’s just a head, a little kitty who can’t scratch behind his ear and needs some help.”
“You seem to forget about the village he destroyed, the one that offered us the rest of their food after we saved them because of what him and his crew did.”
“Zoro, you out of everyone has no right to judge considering you took that random dude’s brother’s head.” You stare at the Buggy in front of us with a cloth in his mouth, watching this whole conversation about him go down.
“I do not need to be around this.” Zoro states before leaving, huffing to himself right before he goes out of ear shot. 
“I never knew you out of everyone would be into the clown type but then again, all women are a mystery.” A laugh comes out and you shake your head at Sanji’s words before replying.
“I think I just like them to be outgoing.” You slowly and dramatically look Sanji up and down before connecting gazes with him. 
Before he has the chance to respond, a loud bang erupts from a part of the ship which catches both of your attention. Sanji sighs before looking at me.
“Things can never be calm around here can they?” A smile appears on your face as you nod.
“You go check that out, I think Zoro has had enough of me today, I’ll stay here with him.” You cock your head to the side, pointing at Buggy. Sanji nods and begins to walk away.
“Be safe sweets, holler if you need anything.” He looks back to say before continuing on. 
You look back at the clown, his eyes wide watching. Taking a few steps in his direction, nearing him before bending down to him.
“Don’t make me regret this.” You quietly say out before gently removing the gag in his mouth.
“Ahh toots, that feels so much better." He states while stretching his mouth and licking his lips.
“You have no idea how dry my mouth was getting, I was almost debating having a sip of sea water!” You roll my eyes before sitting beside the barrel he was on.
“I think that would not be beneficial cause then you’d have the opposite problem of having too much water.” You pause for a second before questioning. “Can you drown? I mean like now, as just a head? You have no lungs attached to you currently.”
“I’ve never tried, I would assume yes though.”
“Well, don’t do it then. I wouldn’t wanna have to be the one to save you, or maybe I’d send Sanji to do it for me.” 
“That blondie would let me die, I’d be a lot better, mentally and physically, if it was you.” He winks at you.
“Mmm, I think anyone of us would do it begrudgingly. For Nami.” He huffs beside you, it was a little funny as just a head. You could imagine his body’s chest moving along with it.
“What is with you and that cook anyway? It’s like you two wanna jump each other, I say just get a room and do it for the sake of me and the crew.” A snort comes out at his words.
“Buggy, I don’t think Sanji is actually attracted to me. Yes, he is good looking. However, he flirts with every woman he sees. In front of me too. Ya know, you two kinda remind me of each other in that regard.”
“Oh darling, I would treat you so much better than he ever could.” His words are filled with honey, sweet and dripping. You look at him, face in a ‘really?’ gaze.
“I don’t know, he is French. And you know there is a kiss named after them.” He scoffs at the retort.
“My head detaches, do I have to say more?” 
Your face drops in realization and your cheeks begin to heat up at his words.
“Slut.” The word flew out of your mouth before you could process it. He sits expressionless before breaking into laughter. Your hand raises to your forehead, half covering your face as you laugh. 
“I never admitted this but I think I like spending time with you more than Zoro.”
“I don’t know, it’s hard to compare his death threats to your sugary laugh.” He flirts again, 
You shake your head at his faux forwardness.
“If you do that again I’m going to flick your ear I swear to god.” He grins ear to ear like a cat luring in its prey, his face then slowly rests like he was actually thinking for once.
“Earlier, you called my nose cute.”
“Yes I did.”
“Did you actually mean it or were you poking fun like the others?” I glance at him, his tone serious and his eyes almost pleading.
“I meant it.” It’s silent, for the first time ever since you've met Buggy. It seems he takes a breath before speaking up.
"You know, you'd be a good second in command. I could pay you handsomely, far more than these schmucks are." 
"They aren't really paying me." His eyes bulge out a bit at the answer. 
"You won't realize it yet, considering how they have treated you however," You pause, choosing your words carefully. "They are the closest thing to family I have gotten in forever, meanwhile your crew feared you. That is all the swaying I need." 
"Its cause that Sanji is taller than me isn't it?" You scoff and crack up at his wit. Laughing to the point of your shoulders visibly shaking. 
"Oh yes, that is absolutely it." You respond teasing, laughter still in your voice. He shakes his head in disappointment. The pair of you continue to stare out as the sun goes down over the horizon, the warm orange creeping into an umber and then its usual royal blue. The stars peering down at the pair. 
"I think it might be time to head in." You say out loud, mostly to yourself while your hands rub over your arms to retain some heat. You could hear the buzzing begin of the mosquitos. 
"What doll, can't handle a little breeze?" You shake your head, you could begin to feel the tip of your fingers cool. 
"I've never been good with night time on the water." Buggy sighs beside me as I sit up.
"Let's head in then." He looks up at you, a small smile on his face. You pick him up, avoiding uncomfortable placement of your hands or a tight grip. His skin was warmer then expected, that was the stereotype though. The men being hot blood and bodied creatures.
"Where am I staying tonight? Barrel, in a window, random box?" 
"I think you're gonna stay with me." Buggy's eyebrows furrow in confusion. You begin to walk quickly to your small corner of the ship, descending down a small flight of stairs. The blue haired head clutched in your arms almost like the way you'd hold a newborn. 
The blue cot you were well acquainted with was already strung up, ready for you to rest in. You put Buggy up there in it before talking up to him. 
"I'm changing so don't try anything okay?" The jester was already too shocked and flustered to speak. Making a mental promise to himself not to break your trust. 
You take a bit of time before he sees your arms come over the side and lift yourself into the hammock. 
You settle yourself, pulling up the blanket that laid at the end over mostly you.
There's a few thuds down the stairs before Sanji appears before you both. 
"Ahh, just the gal I was looking for. How did babysitting go?" He asks, putting an arm over the side of the bed. Standing on a piece of board under you to boost himself up. 
"Still here cook boy." Buggy's voice bellows out, you smile at the cook while he gives you a confused glance. 
"I got worried that the mosquitos will affect his brain and stuff." You put on your best innocent smile and Sanji shakes his head. 
"You are the most mad pirate I think I've ever laid my eyes on." He gets a shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes back. 
"So, what was it that happened earlier?" You lean up to peer over the side at him. His face was always a comfort even when it felt the most safe. 
"Apparently Usopp knocked something over and then Luffy couldn't remember if it was Nami's or something else. You know him, if its not food related then he's not fully paying attention." You nod, agreeing with the blond. Sanji leans in close to you, looking over your shoulder at the head eavesdropping. 
"Are you going to be okay with him? Cause you know I can very much find a different spot for him." He says in a hushed tone to you, a small smile appears on your face. 
"I'll be okay Sanji, he's just a head. The most he could do is bite me and I think I'd wake up before he could cause real damage. However, if anything goes sour. You will be the first one I call to come help." You place your hand on his shoulder, rubbing it quickly before putting it back under the blanket. Sanji nods at you before he steps down. 
"Well sweet, you have a goodnight. Don't dream of me too much okay?" You wave to him and wish him a good night. 
"God he's annoying." Buggy says as you cuddle into your bed, eyes closed in a peaceful manner.
"Just look at it like this, you're in my bed. He's not." That shuts him up fast, you peek an eye open at him. He seems speechless and you let out a quiet giggle. 
"Please do tell me if you snore."
"I should be saying that to you, you can roll over or move. I'm just stuck here." 
You let out a mhmm, the luring sleepiness now very present in your body and brain. Buggy stares at you, blanket tucked up to your chin and face relaxed. 
He laid there and listened to you breathe for a bit. Making sure you were well into your slumber before muttering out. 
"Sleep well love."
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