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natasha romanoff ⟡ ݁₊ kate bishop ⟡ ݁₊ yelena belova ⟡ ݁₊ wanda maximoff ⟡ ݁₊ vi (arcane) ⟡ ݁₊ caitlyn kiramman ⟡ ݁₊ kara zor-el
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Of course they don’t like Milly Alcock’s Supergirl. She’s a grown ass woman with zero love interests who spends the movie saving her dog, casually dismantling a sex trafficking ring while she’s at it, and preaching the importance of being good, not nice or smiley or cheerful but good. I for one adored the movie and I really hope I’ll get to see more of Alcock’s Supergirl she’s now my favorite iteration of her and I love her so dearly.
hello, i'm back with a thought about kara because of this tweet i saw.
warnings/tags: implied fem!reader, no use of y/n, implied smut but nothing graphic
——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ———
Kara’s hand stayed loose on top of your head afterward, just resting there while you kissed slowly back up her stomach. She was still breathing hard, cheeks flushed, blonde hair a mess against the pillow, and when you lifted your head to look at her, she blinked at you like she’d forgotten how to speak for a second.
“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” she muttered, though her voice came out too soft to make it convincing.
You smiled, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “I’m allowed to be proud. You got loud.”
Kara’s eyes narrowed, but there was no real bite in it. She sat up on her elbows, tugged you closer by the front of your shirt, and caught your chin between her fingers before you could tease her again. Her gaze flicked down to your mouth, dark and warm, and then she leaned in, slow enough to make your stomach dip. “You missed a spot,” she said.
Before you could ask where, her tongue dragged over your lower lip, tasting herself there with a pleased little hum that went straight through you. She didn’t make it rushed or dramatic; she just held your chin and cleaned you up like she had every right to, her mouth brushing yours between lazy strokes until you were the one getting quiet.
“Kara,” you breathed, half warning, half plea.
“Mhm?” She smiled against your mouth, entirely too smug now, then gave the tip of your nose a quick little boop with her finger.
You stared at her. “Did you seriously just do that?”
“Yeah,” she said, brushing your cheek with ridiculous tenderness, like she hadn’t just made your knees weak for the second time in ten minutes. “You looked cute.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I know.” Kara kissed your forehead, lingering there with a softness that made the room feel warmer. When she pulled back, her thumb stroked once along your jaw, and her mouth curved again. “C'mere, I’m not done with you.”
in the aftermath of the affair, you and Wanda try to go back to life as normal. but when an announcement from your spouse puts you in a time crunch, Wanda begins to wonder if you’ll choose her over everything…
content: some smut with plot ‼️; drama; petnames; domesticity/playing house; technically forbidden romance; cunnilingus (both receiving); fingering (both receiving); praise; couch sex; drinking/inebriation; u-hauling; 3.8k; men and minors dni
a/n: i had originally started on part two of you could be my silver spring a couple weeks ago, but then i hit a wall with that draft and wound up trashing it. i gave it another go and i actually found my flow state this time around. thanks for all the love on part one of this scandalous little au, and i hope you enjoy this one as well <3
Wanda was awake before you, but she didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. It meant that she got to just lie there and take you in, bask in your presence. She takes in the way your lashes brush your cheeks, how you look so peaceful, and maybe even younger like this. She takes in the soft rise and fall of your chest, your mouth hanging open against Wanda’s neck, emitting soft snores. Were you drooling on her a little bit? Absolutely. Did Wanda mind? Not in the slightest.
Wanda’s eyes dip lower, to the parts of you the blanket doesn’t conceal—the slope of your shoulders, the hollow of your throat, the shadow of your breasts. Here Wanda’s mind strays naughty as she can’t help thinking that she’d know exactly how it would taste if she were to suck one of those perfect breasts into her mouth right now.
Her thighs squeeze together, and it’s a telltale sign that she needs to stop perving and get out of this bed. But first, she reaches out to tuck a strand of hair ever so gently behind your ear. Then, she presses a lingering kiss to the center of your forehead. Grinning as she stands from the bed, Wanda pulls on a sea foam-green sill bathrobe on her way out the door.
Wanda wears that smile all the way down the stairs and into the vast kitchen. There are only two things on her mind as she moves around pulling out ingredients—you and pancakes.
Wanda works diligently, humming a Fleetwood Mac song under her breath as she whisks together eggs, milk, pancake mix, and a dash of cinnamon. Before long, the hiss of a pan and the decadent smell of hotcakes fills the kitchen. Wanda is so in her element that she doesn’t even feel your presence until you’re right behind her.
She’s jolted when your arms go around her waist, but then she relaxes into your touch, the feeling of your front pressed to her back.
“Well, that just won’t do. No one’s ever been able to sneak up on me,” Wanda drawls.
You smile into her skin, kissing the back of her neck. “Well, maybe you just need to stay a little more vigilant, Miss Maximoff,”
Wanda shivers. Never had she liked being called by her last name so much.
Wanda turns in your arms to get a good look at you. You’re dressed in gray baseball t-shirt and little else, simple black cotton underwear peeking from beneath the shirt’s hemline. Wanda licks her lips and pulls your body flush against hers.
“Goodness, you just look so delectable,” she purrs. “What am I gonna do with you, sweet thing?” Wanda’s hands are already on your hips before you can respond. She turns you, backing you against the corner of the counter.
“Hop up here for me,” She commands softly, and you listen, jumping up and letting her shift you back onto the countertop and stand between your legs.
“Baby,” Wanda hums, her warm breath fans your neck and you suddenly feel the need to clench your own thighs together. “You look good enough to eat,”
“So eat me,” you whisper back.
Wanda doesn’t need to be told twice. A wicked gleam flashes in those green eyes as she lowers herself to her knees, kissing her way down your thighs as she goes. You open up for her without being asked, a sigh falling from your lips. Wanda’s breath ghosts over your center, an index finger on the edge of your panties to move them out of the way, and just when you think she’s about to give you everything, she pulls back and stands to her feet.
You whine, squirming for her. “Come back,”
“Not yet, sweet thing,” Wanda chuckles, her voice a touch husky. “Don’t wanna burn our breakfast,”
Another pitiful sound stirs in your throat, but Wanda merely brushes a kiss on your temple, pats your thigh consolingly and steps back to the stove, flipping over a perfectly golden brown pancake just in time.
For the most part, breakfast goes off without a hitch—the two of you occasionally feeding each other bites, you complimenting Wanda’s perfect pancakes, Wanda dabbing whipped cream on your nose just to kiss it away. Wanda hadn’t even realized that her mask seemed to have slipped again until you tilted your head at her.
“Seriously, Wanda, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You ask, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
Wanda sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to be present with you, I absolutely do. But…my mind is stuck on last night,”
You exhale softly. “Yeah. Mine is too,” you search Wanda’s eyes, suddenly panicked. “You’re not…regretting anything, are you?”
“Oh, baby, no. No, no, of course not,” Wanda is quick to reassure you. “I don’t regret anything about last night or what we did. It was so special to me, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod, searching Wanda’s face. “It was special to me too,”
“Good,” Wanda smiles, then cups your face. “It’s just that…” she tries again. “Well, you know that my feelings for you were absolutely premeditated and…well, I know that at the end of the day, you’re still married,” she exhales slowly, meets your eyes again. “And I don’t want to make anything harder for you than it already is,”
“No,” you shake your head. “You’re not making anything harder, Wanda. I’ve been wanting this, wanting you, for…I don’t even know how long. I’ve never been so sure about someone or something in my life,”
“But baby—“
“Remember what else we said last night?” You ask, kissing one corner of Wanda’s mouth and then the other. “That just for this weekend, we could just pretend? Not worry?” You repeat the cycle, kissing the left corner, then the right again.
Wanda’s lids flutter as she leans into the touch. “Yes,” she breathes. “I remember,”
You lace your fingers through both Wanda’s hands. “Then get lost with me, Wanda. That’s all I want right now,”
In a second, Wanda is on you. And just like last night, she absolutely devours you right there in the kitchen. All of your senses are heightened and your tongue hangs out of your mouth, eyes rolling back into your head. You grip the corners of the table for purchase, moan after moan trickling from your mouth as Wanda’s expect tongue works magic inside you.
The two of you remain in that cozy bubble right up until Monday. You take trips back out to the lake together. You explore the little shops in the downtown area, hand in hand whilst browsing cute trinkets, imagining which ones would look good in your home, with neither one of you touching on the fact that you live separately.
In the evenings after dinner, you lie snuggled up on the couch watching early-2000s romcoms. You make each other see stars over and over; eyes rolling back, bodies rocking together; white-knuckle grips on the matters as you lose count of the amount of times you’re taken to ecstasy.
On Sunday night, the air cools your skin after another thorough love-making session. Wanda holds you in her arms, watching as the silver light from the window dances across your skin.
“Wanda?” You speak up, your voice coming through soft and sleepy.
“Mm, yeah, honey?”
“Can you promise me something?”
Wanda’s heart fluttered. She’d promise you the world and then some, and she says just as much out loud.
“Can you promise me that we’ll always be this close? Even though the next couple weeks might be…difficult, weird. Nothing is gonna come between us?” You ask.
Wanda exhales slowly, months worth of tension easing from her shoulders. She cups the back of your head, lifts it to make eye contact. “I promise, baby love,” she whispers against your lips. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna change,” and then she’s kissing you, long and deep, and nothing else matters, nothing else exists except for the two of you.
Monday morning comes quietly. The two of you don’t speak much at first, just exchange polite smiles while you pack up your things. It’s inoffensive, but it does give Wanda’s mind space to wander again.
More comfortable silence follows on the drive back to town. The radio plays softly and Wanda holds your hand across the center console. But as she gets closer and closer to town, more dread lands like a stone in her chest.
The realization that you can’t just come home with her, that she’s still driving you back to your house, the one you still shared with a spouse. And she’d be going home alone, to her big empty house, doomed to have nothing and no one to hold when she went to bed that night. She’d gotten used to having a warm body next to her for the past three days, and now that it was being ripped away from her so suddenly, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Wanda drops your hand over the center console just as she pulls up to the curb outside your house. And not a moment too soon with your spouse standing outside waiting for you. Wanda grits her teeth against a snide remark she promised herself she’d keep down as she pops the trunk for you to collect your things.
Wanda is out of her car a second later, ready to assist you, but your spouse beats her to it, moving toward the trunk of Wanda’s car to collect your things. She hovers awkwardly by the back door as she watches. She’s only half-listening to what ever your spouse is saying, until a few key words—“promotion”, “Vegas” and “opportunity to move” make her stand at attention.
“…a promotion, isn’t it great?” Your spouse was saying. “…gonna get the chance to take a brand new office down in Vegas!”
Wanda’s gaze darts to you, taking in your speechless expression. Your spouse, however, seems to interpret this as excitement, hugging you and sweeping you off your feet. Wanda’s jaw tightens at the display, but she quickly schools her gestures, clearing her throat.
“So, that’s it, then?” Wanda asks, trying to make her voice sound breezy, bordering on flippant. “New job, and you two are gonna just…move away?”
“Yup, Nevada,” your spouse beams, wrapping an arm around you waist. “Las Vegas! Won’t that be exciting, honey?”
Wanda’s gaze strays to you once again, expectant. There’s now a faraway expression on your face. Wanda silently wills you to disagree, to push back. But then, you simply smile, patting your spouse’s hand. “I think…we have a lot to discuss later. Okay?”
“Right, right,” your spouse waves their hand dismissively. “So much to talk about, but let’s not worry about that now. For now, I just wanna focus on the celebration. Next Friday. All our friends can come. And Wanda?” Your spouse turns toward Wanda. “Maybe you could bring over another one of those delicious pies you made for the watch party?”
Wanda plasters on a smile, to avoid saying they what she’d really rather prefer is for your spouse to shut their pie hole. But then, she makes the mistake of catching your gaze. She knew it wasn’t really your spouse she was saying yes to. She was saying yes to you.
“Yeah, sure,” she concedes. “I’ll see what I can scrounge together for your little shindig. And contests on the promotion, hon. Really.”
Wanda knew she had to leave soon. She could feel her nostrils flaring like a bull’s, and she didn’t know whether she wanted to charge at your spouse or you. So Wanda makes her excuses and leaves, but not before getting pulled into one of your tight hugs. Your body presses against hers, every single curve she has memorized, and she feels like she needs a cold shower. Or an afternoon alone at an ax-throwing arena.
It takes everything in Wanda to release you and climb back into her car. She watches your reflection diminish in the rear view mirror and as her fingers grip tight to the steering wheel, she doesn’t know whether she wants to cry right now or scream.
***
Four days go by without the two of you speaking.
Not for lack of trying—you definitely tried to reach out—but Wanda was still feeling bitter. Crabby because you’d said nothing when you spouse mentioned moving to Nevada. Because wasn’t that the same thing as agreeing? Agreeing that you wanted your spouse over Wanda? Wanda felt like she could be sick just thinking about it.
There was a part of her; particularly a part that didn’t exactly take center stage right now—the rational part of her—that knew she was jumping to conclusions, gettjng irrational herself. You’d frozen up, hadn’t known what to say. And here Wanda was being unfair and avoiding you over it.
Around seven in the evening, the doorbell rings. Wanda curses the interruption, since she certainly hadn’t been expecting or wanted guests. But when she opens the door, she finds you standing there, a desperate look in your eyes.
“…hi,” you breathe, shoulders slumping in relief or shame or maybe both.
“Uh…hi?” Wanda replies, confused. “What’s going on? When did you—“
She doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence before she’s swept up into a deep kiss. Wanda stumbles back, but you hold her steady, kicking the door shut behind you. You press Wanda against the edge of her staircase. The blunt end digs into Wanda’s back, but she doesn’t care. Can’t care with your mouth on hers.
You kiss your way down Wanda’s body—her jaw, her collarbones, her chest. You kneel in front of her, fumbling with the zipper on her jeans. Wanda tilts her head back, chest rising and falling with barely concealed arousal. You slide Wanda’s jeans down at an agonizing pace, but your impatience wins out, the fabric stopping only midway down the other woman’s thighs before you start mouthing at her clothed center, running your tongue back and forth against the cotton like gentle brushstrokes.
“Oh, baby!” Wanda gasps. “Right there…yes!” Her fingers tangle in your hair and pull.
Wanda already feels like she’s seeing stars, just from this little stimulation alone, so she practically goes cross-eyed when you finally move her underwear out of the way to mouth at her properly. It only takes a few well-placed licks and added suction on her clit for Wanda to go hurdling over the edge. By the time she comes, she’s absolutely ravenous, and doesn’t bother with recovery or climbing the stairs. She opts to push you toward the living room instead.
You stumble onto the couch together, mouths attached, mirroring each other’s touch with insistent fingers. You come together, names on each other’s tongues, stars dancing behind your eyes. Wanda’s mind goes blessedly blank in the afterglow. When her brain eventually, slowly comes back online, she realizes she still has questions that haven’t been answered.
“What are you doing here?” She asks you.
“I just missed you,” you sigh. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of you for the past four days, remember?”
“Well, I was mad at you,” Wanda say bluntly
“I know, and it’s the Vegas thing, right?”
“Yes y/n, of course it’s the Vegas thing!” Wanda huffs, exasperated. “I mean, I’m tryin’ to keep my patience here, but you said nothin’ when they brought it up! Did you know about that? Did you already decide you were going? If so, then what the hell did you even get involved with me for? You can’t have your cake and eat it too, and I don’t know if I wanna—“
“Hey, hey, hey,” Your hands frame Wanda’s face gently, stalling her fire as you rest your forehead against hers. “Breathe,” you instruct.
Wanda doesn’t want to listen. She wants to keep throwing her hissy fit. But the contact, the closeness. She can’t resist just melting into you. For years, there has never been someone like you for Wanda. Someone who could stop an impending tantrum just with one simple touch; forehead to forehead. Before a few months ago, Wanda never thought herself the kind of woman who could be tamed. But she was so unequivocally gone for you. She’d do anything for you. She was all yours.
“To answer your questions, no, I didn’t even know moving to Vegas was an option. My spouse hasn’t told me any job-related news in months. They just…stopped updating me about stuff like that, and I stopped updating them. I was just as blindsided as you were by the news, okay?”
Wanda’s shoulders deflate just a little and you run your hands up and down her arms. “And for your next question, no, I didn’t decide I was going to go, because I don’t want to go,” you say. “I don’t want to leave town. I don’t want to leave my job…” you kiss Wanda’s shoulder and then her cheek. “…and most importantly, I don’t want to leave you. I’m choosing you? Wanda.”
“So then…” Wanda swallows hard, meeting your eyes. “That means you’re choosing to…divorce your spouse?” she says the words carefully, quietly as if something will go wrong if she says it too loudly.
“Yes,” you declare, searching Wanda’s eyes. “I want you to be with you, Wanda,”
Wanda feels her heart take flight in her chest.
“I’m not going to say anything until after the party. I was going to find time to do it before, but they’ve already invited everyone. Would be too much of a hassle to cancel now. Especially because of a divorce announcement, you know?”
“Yeah,” Wanda agrees, running a hand up and down your naked spine.
You sigh into Wanda’s neck. “I just wish I could get it over with. Rip the bandaid off without having to cause a scene,”
Wanda chuckles. “And here I thought you liked a little drama,”
You roll your eyes and swat her shoulder. “Hey, don’t implicate me. How was I ever supposed to resist you after you looked so darling in my cowgirl hat?”
“And aren’t you just so glad I let you talk me into putting that ridiculous thing on my head?” Wanda teases, nuzzling her nose against you and making you wrinkle yours.
“I’m grateful for everything that happened last weekend,” you take Wanda’s hand, kiss her knuckles. “It made me open my eyes,”
“Yeah, well,” Wanda mirrors you, lifting your knuckles to her own lips. “Maybe I needed to open mine too. See what was right in front of me,”
***
Wanda had been fashionably late to your spouse’s promotion party—because there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she was showing up early to celebrate that moron—and when she does arrive, it only takes walking a couple steps into the house to realize she’d missed a few chapters.
For one, there seemed to be no music playing, and guests on either side of the room had abandoned their own conversations to watch one in the center of the room with rapt attention. Wanda follows the gazes of nosy party guests to find the drama in question: you standing in the center of your living room, your speech slightly slurred from possibly already having a drink or two.
Wanda catches tidbits of conversation: “never asked me if it was okay”, “self-centered prick”, and then the most damning ones: “I can’t do this anymore,”
Those last words, seem to knock all of the fight out of your spouse. “Wait…what?”
“I don’t want to move to Vegas with you,” you say, “and to tell you the truth, I think I’m in love with someone else,” for one lingering moment, you look up and meet Wanda’s. Butterfly wings flap between her ribs, minding all the gaps. She watches you turn back, pressing a packet of papers against your spouse’s chest, before storming out of the room.
While everyone else is distracted, hounding your now ex-spouse with questions, Wanda slips out behind you. She wanders the halls aimlessly for a while before taking the stairs. Shefinds you in the en-suite bedroom, haphazardly throwing things into a duffel bag.
Wanda hesitates, a hand coming up to grip the doorway. “Baby love?”
You whirl around and as soon as you register that it’s Wanda standing there, your face falls and you practically collapse into her arms.
“I did it,” you mumble “I did it, Wanda,”
“You did, but what happened to ‘no drama’ at the party?” Wanda teases, squeezing you tightly to her.
You sigh into her skin, “I was gonna keep things drama free, I really was, but then they mentioned starting a family as soon as we move out to Vegags, deciding things for me like I wasn’t even in the room, and I just…snapped. Of course, it didn’t help that I’d been drinking because I think I convinced myself that you wouldn’t come and then…. I just lost it from there,”
You look up at Wanda, sheepish. “I’m sorry if my immaturity tonight makes you rethink this whole thing—“
“Not in the slightest,” Wanda shakes her head, smiling. “You stood up for yourself and what you love, and more importantly, you chose me back. That’s all I could ask for,” she searches your eyes. “And you meant that part, didn’t you? I’m…someone you love?”
You hold Wanda’s gaze, a dopey smile that you can’t stop breaking across your face. “You are,” you confirm. “You absolutely are someone I love. A lot,”
Wanda beams, nuzzling her nose against yours. “Good. Because you’re someone I love too. A lot,”
You tilt your head up enough for Wanda to capture your lips in a quick peck.
“I’ll always choose you,” you murmur, resting your forehead against Wanda’s.
Wanda smiles, cupping your face in both hands. “I’ll always choose you too, honey,” she says, then she pecks your lips once, twice before releasing you. “Now, let’s get out of here. I get the feelin’ we’ll no longer be welcome,”
You smile, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s waist. “Your place, then?”
Wanda shakes her head, her smile warm against your lips as she kisses you again, “Our place,”
summary: Kara asks you to babysit Krypto while her and Clark deal with some business elsewhere. Turns out, Krypto has a hard time staying clean.
word count: 3.7k+
pairing: kara zor-el x fem!reader
notes: uhhhh... hello??? this is my first full wlw fic and it's inspired by my own dogs. also, why do the supercousins both have to be so hot?????? i'm dying over here
warnings/tags: no use of y/n, fluff fluff fluff, kara and clark live together, krypto is a menace, bath time!, clark is awkward as usual, idk really know what to tag so yeah
It wasn’t much of a problem when Kara asked you to watch after Krypto while her and Clark handled some super-business elsewhere; you had done it many times before. Kara handed you the keys to their apartment, kissed you and Krypto goodbye, and flew off into the sky with her cousin.
Normally it was simple: you would take a good long walk with Krypto, let him tire himself out as much as possible, and by the time you got back to the apartment he would fall asleep as soon as he laid down.
Except this time he seemed intrigued by the dog park you normally pass by and you decided to make a pitstop, and that’s where it all went downhill. Krypto didn’t want to play with the other dogs, he instead broke free from the leash and started to chase squirrels around the small park, landing himself in mud on more than one occasion.
So by the time you got back to their apartment, you knew you couldn’t let Krypto touch anything. The second the elevator doors opened, you planted both hands on his muddy chest and gave him the kind of look you had seen Kara give him when he tried to bring a piece of satellite debris inside like it was a toy. “No couch,” you warned, already struggling to keep him in place because Krypto was vibrating with the kind of joy only a dog covered in mud could feel. “No bed, no rugs, no flying onto the ceiling, no shaking, and I know you understand me.”
Krypto blinked up at you with wide, innocent eyes, his white fur now several different shades of brown, and then his tail wagged hard enough to thump against the hallway wall. He took one hopeful step toward the apartment, and you immediately tightened your grip on the leash. “Don’t even think about it,” you said, fumbling with the keys Kara had given you while trying to keep his muddy paws from touching the door. “Clark already looks like he’s one surprise away from writing a formal apartment rules list, and I’m not being the reason he has to mop muddy paw prints off the ceiling.”
The door opened, and Krypto tried to bolt inside like he had suddenly remembered every soft surface he had ever loved. You caught him around the middle with both arms, which would have been more impressive if he hadn’t been a super-dog and if your shoes weren’t slipping slightly on the floor from the mud already dropping off him. “Bathroom,” you grunted, practically dragging yourself more than him. “We’re going straight to the bathroom, and you’re not going to act like I’m betraying you, because this is entirely your fault.”
Krypto made a small, offended sound, but he let you guide him down the hall, mostly because you kept one arm hooked around his muddy chest and the other hand clamped on his leash. He kept looking over his shoulder at the living room like he was deeply considering making a run for it, and you kept steering him harder toward the bathroom. “Do not look at the couch like that,” you said, breathless by the time you reached the tile. “That couch has done nothing to you, and Clark is probably attached to it.”
The bathroom was clean in a way that made you feel instantly guilty for what was about to happen to it. Clark’s towel was folded neatly on the rack, Kara’s things were in a little pile near the sink, and there was a bottle of shampoo sitting beside what you were pretty sure was Lois’ hairdryer from the last time she had stayed over and left half her things behind. You stared at the bathtub, then at Krypto, then at the mud already caking around his paws. “Okay,” you said slowly, rolling up your sleeves. “This is fine. This is very normal. People bathe dogs every day.”
Krypto sneezed, which sent a tiny spray of mud onto the lower cabinet, and you closed your eyes for one long second before pointing at the tub. “In,” you told him, using your sternest voice, the one that usually worked when he tried to sniff your food too closely. He stepped one paw into the tub, then another, and for one beautiful moment, you thought he was going to cooperate. Then he lifted his head, looked directly at the shower curtain like it had personally challenged him, and floated three feet into the air.
“No,” you said immediately, reaching up and grabbing him around the stomach before he could drift any higher. “Absolutely not. Kara trusted me with you, and I am not explaining to her that you escaped bath time by using aerial superiority.” Krypto huffed, his paws paddling gently in the air, and you pulled him back down into the tub with a wet squeak of mud against porcelain. “Thank you,” you said, still holding him down with both hands. “You are so brave… but you’re also disgusting.”
You turned the water on carefully, testing it with your wrist first because Kara would absolutely know if you gave her dog water that was too cold or too hot. Krypto watched the stream hit the tub like it was a brand-new scientific discovery, then stuck his nose under it and immediately sneezed again. “Don’t inhale it,” you said, grabbing the detachable shower head and trying to wet the muddiest parts of him. “You’ve flown through space and fought criminals, I know running water isn’t where we fall apart.”
The mud started sliding off him in thick brown streaks, turning the bottom of the tub into something that looked deeply unfortunate. Krypto lifted one paw, stared at the dirty water, and then began trotting in place, splashing water up the sides of the tub and all over your shirt. “Krypto!” you said, trying not to laugh because laughing would only encourage him. “No running in the bathtub! That feels like a rule I shouldn’t have to say out loud.”
He trotted faster, delighted by the splashing, and the water slapped against the curtain, the tile, your jeans, and somehow the mirror, while also making the shampoo bottle fall right into the tub, making bubbles start to form. You reached for his collar, but he ducked his head and spun in a tight circle, creating a tiny muddy whirlpool around his paws. “Stop!” you said, laughing now despite yourself as water dripped down your face. “Oh my god, Kara is going to come home and think I wrestled a swamp creature in here.”
Krypto barked once, sharp and happy, then snapped his mouth toward the bubbles gathering near the drain. You moved the shampoo bottle out of reach just in time, because his attention shifted to it with alarming focus. “No, you cannot eat that,” you said, holding the bottle high above your head while he stretched his neck toward it. “This is not a snack, this is literally shampoo, and I don’t care if it smells like coconut, you are not eating Kara’s shampoo.”
He made another offended noise, then licked a cluster of bubbles off the side of the tub before you could stop him. “Krypto!” you said, wiping bubbles off his snout with your wet sleeve. “You are making this so much harder than it has to be. I need you to understand that this is a five-minute bath if you behave, and a forty-minute bath if you keep trying to consume soap like it’s part of your diet.”
Krypto stared at you, bubbles clinging to the fur around his mouth, and wagged his tail hard enough to send another spray of water onto the floor. You sighed, squeezing shampoo into your palm and working it carefully into the cleaner parts of his fur first. “Your mother is so lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, scrubbing behind his ears while he leaned into your hands like the entire bath had suddenly become his idea.
He seemed to love the ear-scrubbing part, at least, because his eyes went half-lidded and his body finally relaxed under your hands. You took advantage of his temporary peace and washed his neck, chest, legs, and the underside of his paws, rinsing away as much mud as you could before he remembered he had free will. “See?” you said, working your fingers carefully through a stubborn patch of dirt near his shoulder. “This is nice, we can do nice. We don’t have to turn Clark’s bathroom into a disaster zone.”
The peace lasted until you rinsed his back, because the second the water ran down his spine, Krypto sprang upward with a startled bark and hovered above the tub again. Water poured off him in sheets, dripping all over the bath mat and your socks. You grabbed his front legs and stared up at him, soaked from your hairline down. “I swear, if you touch that ceiling while covered in shampoo, I’m telling Kara you tried to frame me.”
Krypto whined softly, not guilty in the slightest, and you used both hands to pull him back into the tub. He landed with a splash that sent water over the edge and across the tile, and you stood there for a moment, dripping and exhausted, holding the shower head like you were negotiating with a tiny god. “Okay,” you said, breathing out through your nose. “New plan, you stand there, I rinse you, and nobody flies unless there is a building on fire.”
He actually stood still after that, though you suspected it was mostly because he liked the way you were scratching under his chin with one hand while rinsing him with the other. The brown water gradually turned clearer, and the white of his fur came back in patches until he looked like Kara’s dog again instead of something that had crawled out of a construction site. You rinsed him twice just to be safe, because if Kara buried her face in his fur later and got a mouthful of coconut shampoo, you were never going to hear the end of it.
When you finally turned the water off, Krypto shook himself before you could stop him. The spray hit you full force, splattering the mirror, the towels, the sink, and probably places you wouldn’t discover until Clark asked about them three days from now. You froze, eyes closed, arms slightly out, while Krypto jumped out of the tub and stood in front of you looking incredibly proud of himself. “Thank you,” you said flatly, wiping water from your face. “That was incredibly helpful.”
You grabbed the biggest towel you could find and wrapped it around him before he got another chance to shake. Krypto leaned into the towel immediately, wagging his tail as you rubbed him down, and you had to admit he looked painfully cute with only his nose poking out. “Oh, now you’re sweet,” you said, scrubbing the towel over his back. “Now that I’m soaked, the floor is soaked, and the bathroom looks like a pond exploded in it, now you want to be adorable.”
He licked your wrist, and you rolled your eyes while rubbing the towel over his head. “Don’t try to charm me,” you told him, though your voice had already gone soft. “I’m immune to that… Mostly… A little.” Krypto shoved his face against your stomach, still wrapped in the towel, and you gave in long enough to kiss the top of his damp head. “Fine, you’re forgiven, but only because Kara loves you and because you’re cute when you’re not trying to eat soap.”
The towel helped, but Krypto was still damp enough that letting him loose in the apartment felt dangerous. You glanced around the bathroom and spotted the hairdryer on the counter, half-hidden behind a brush and a bottle of lotion that definitely didn’t belong to Clark. “Okay,” you said, picking it up and checking the settings. “This is either Lois’ or Kara stole it from Lois and forgot to return it, which is a problem for them and not for us.”
Krypto watched the hairdryer with interest, his head tilting to the side as you plugged it in. “Don’t bite this,” you warned, aiming it away from him first. “This has electricity, and I’m pretty sure even you shouldn’t chew on electricity.”
You turned it on low, expecting Krypto to bark, flinch, or fly straight up again. Instead, he went completely still, ears perking as the warm air blew against his chest. You moved it a little closer, careful not to make it too hot, and his eyes widened like you had just introduced him to the greatest invention Earth had ever created. “Oh,” you said, watching as he leaned toward it. “You like that?”
Krypto took one careful step closer, then another, then he pushed his face directly toward the warm stream of air, his damp fur ruffling back from his snout, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loudly. “No, not that close,” you said, gently guiding his face back with your free hand. “You cannot become one with the hairdryer, we need reasonable distance.”
He disagreed, very strongly, apparently, because every time you moved the hairdryer to dry his side, he shuffled after it, pressing closer until his nose nearly bumped the end. You adjusted the angle, and he followed, you moved to his back legs, and he turned so the warm air stayed on his chest. “Krypto,” you said, laughing now. “I am trying to dry all of you, not just the front half of you.”
He wagged his tail, utterly content, and leaned his whole body toward the hairdryer with the kind of devotion he usually reserved for Kara walking through the door. You worked around him as best you could, one hand rubbing through his fur while the other moved the dryer over his back, neck, and legs. He kept trying to scoot closer, and more than once you had to press your palm to his chest and gently push him back. “Personal space,” you reminded him. “You and Kara both struggle with it, actually.”
By the time you heard the apartment door open, the bathroom floor was covered in damp towels, your clothes were wet, and Krypto was sitting next to the tub like royalty, eyes half-closed while you blew warm air over his chest. You were kneeling beside him, one sleeve pushed up and the other hanging wet around your wrist, trying to dry the last stubborn damp spot behind his ears. “If that’s you, Kara,” you called, raising your voice over the hairdryer, “before you say anything, he was brown when we came in.”
There was a brief silence from the hallway, followed by Clark’s voice, cautious and already concerned. “Brown?”
Kara appeared in the doorway a second later, still in her suit, her hair a little windswept from flying and her expression shifting instantly from confusion to amusement. Clark came up behind her and looked over her shoulder, eyebrows lifting as he took in the wet floor, the muddy towel pile, the shampoo bottle sitting safely on the sink, and Krypto trying to inch his face closer to the hairdryer. Kara’s mouth twitched. “What did my dog do?”
“Your dog,” you said pointedly, because that part mattered, “discovered mud, tried to eat shampoo, attempted to flee bath time vertically, ran laps in the tub, and now apparently believes this hairdryer is the best thing on the planet.” You angled the dryer away for one second, and Krypto immediately leaned after it with a soft, needy sound. “See? This is who you raised.”
Kara stepped fully into the bathroom, biting back a laugh as she crouched beside the tub. “Krypto,” she said, and he finally looked away from the hairdryer long enough to perk up at her. His tail thumped against the floor, sending a small splash of leftover water onto the tile, and Kara reached out to scratch under his chin. “Did you behave for her?”
“He did not,” you said at the same time Krypto barked proudly.
Clark made a quiet sound that was very clearly him trying not to laugh, then looked at the water on the mirror and the damp pawprint on the side of the tub. “I’m guessing the dog park was involved,” he said, leaning one hand against the doorframe while staying far enough back that Krypto couldn’t shake water onto him. “That’s usually where these stories begin.”
“The dog park was involved for maybe ninety seconds before he decided the squirrels were fugitives,” you said, turning the hairdryer back toward Krypto’s shoulder. “And before anyone asks, no, I don’t know how a dog with super-speed still managed to land in every muddy patch individually, but he did. It was honestly impressive.”
Kara looked at you then, really looked at you, taking in your wet shirt, damp hair, bare feet, and the stubborn concentration on your face as you tried to keep the dryer at a safe distance from her extremely spoiled dog. Her expression softened in that way that always made your stomach flip, warm and amused and a little too fond. “You gave him a bath by yourself?”
“I had limited options,” you said, trying to sound casual even though Kara was looking at you like that. “It was either this or let him jump on Clark’s couch while looking like a chocolate lab, and I didn’t think any of us were emotionally prepared for that.”
Clark nodded solemnly from the doorway. “I appreciate your service.”
“You’re welcome,” you said, pointing the dryer toward Krypto’s side again while he tried to follow it. “Also, I used the coconut shampoo, and before you blame me, he did try to eat it twice, so honestly I think I handled that pretty well.”
Kara laughed, low and warm, and reached over to scratch Krypto’s damp head. “He likes coconut.”
“He likes consuming things that aren’t food,” you corrected, moving the dryer away when Krypto pressed too close again. “There’s a difference.”
Krypto whined as the warm air shifted away from his face, and Kara’s grin widened. “Oh, he really does like that thing.”
“He’s obsessed,” you said, letting the air blow gently against his chest again. “He has never been more cooperative in his life. I’m pretty sure if we ever need him to sit still during a crisis, we just bring the hairdryer.”
Clark looked between Kara and Krypto, his expression turning thoughtful in a way that made you instantly suspicious. “I don’t think a hairdryer would be standard field equipment.”
Kara glanced back at him. “You carry tiny snacks in your belt sometimes for him.”
Clark straightened a little. “That’s different.”
“It’s not,” Kara said easily, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to smile too hard because Clark looked like he regretted walking into the conversation. Kara turned back to you, her shoulder brushing yours as she leaned closer to inspect Krypto’s fur. “He’s clean, though. You did good.”
“I did good?” you repeated, arching a brow at her. “Kara, I look like I lost a fight with a sink.”
“You look cute,” she said, like that settled it.
Clark immediately looked at the ceiling, as if he had just remembered he was related to one of the people in the room and did not want to be legally present for flirting. You felt your face warm, but Kara only looked more amused. “Don’t start,” you muttered, turning the hairdryer off for a second so you could hear yourself think. Krypto instantly nudged your hand with his nose, offended by the loss of warm air, and you sighed. “You too? Really?”
Kara leaned in and kissed you quickly, soft and sweet, one hand brushing the side of your damp jaw. It was over before you could fully react, but it still made your breath catch in the embarrassingly easy way she always managed. Clark made a strangled sound behind her and lifted one hand to cover his eyes. “Okay,” he said awkwardly, turning his head toward the hallway. “I’m just going to give everyone privacy. Including the dog, apparently.”
Kara pulled back with a grin, completely unbothered, while you tried not to look as flustered as you felt. “You’ve seen us kiss before,” she said over her shoulder.
Clark kept his hand over his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I need to stand in a bathroom and watch it happen next to a wet dog.”
Krypto barked loudly at the sound of Clark’s voice, then shoved his face toward the hairdryer again like he was trying to remind everyone what the real priority was. You huffed out a laugh and turned it back on low, and he immediately settled, eyes going soft as the warm air ruffled his fur. Kara watched him for a second, then looked at you with that same affectionate little smile. “He might like you more than me now.”
“That’s not true,” you said, even though Krypto had fully leaned his weight into your arm and seemed unwilling to move unless the hairdryer moved with him. “He loves you. I’m just the person currently holding his new favorite object.”
Kara rested her chin lightly on your shoulder, careful not to get too close to the dryer, and Krypto’s tail started thumping again as if he had successfully gathered his two favorite people in one place. “Still,” she said, her voice quieter near your ear, “thanks for taking care of him.”
You softened despite yourself, letting the dryer move slowly over Krypto’s side while Kara stayed tucked close to you. “Yeah, well,” you said, glancing at the soaked towels and the disaster of a floor, “next time you ask me to dog-sit, I’m charging extra for mud removal.”
Clark, already halfway down the hall, called back, “I’ll pay it.”
Kara laughed against your shoulder, and Krypto barked once like he agreed. You looked down at him, at his bright clean fur and his ridiculous, blissed-out expression as he tried to press even closer to the warm air, and shook your head. “You are so lucky you’re loved,” you told him, keeping one hand firm on his chest before he could climb into the hairdryer. “And you are never going to the dog park without Kara again.”
Kara knows how this looks. Clothes strewn from the hallway to the foot of her bed, Krypto snoring from the living room instead of his usual place in her bed, and, most damning of all, the girl beside her, sleeping peacefully on her stomach with an arm draped over Kara’s waist.
Kara gently extracts herself from the bed and trips across the floor, pulling on a random pair of jeans before stumbling into the hallway with Clark, closing the door behind her.
“It’s not what you think,” Kara says.
“And what do I think?” Clark whispers back, eyes wide.
“You tell me!” Kara defends. She can’t come up with something at all reasonable to say without exposing herself and subsequently, the lie she’s been telling Clark. A secret most of the time, dipping into dishonesty on some of the nights he asks to see her and she’s brushed off with a lame excuse.
Giving Krypto a bath. Cleaning the apartment. Wanting to turn in early.
“It looks like you got drunk and hooked up on a planet with a yellow sun! Fully powered, Kara!” Clark admonishes. And yes, okay. From his perspective this is all entirely reasonable and completely appropriate to be worried about. But Kara has just been pulled from her bed at eight in the morning after a very late night, and she can think of nothing else besides climbing back onto the mattress besides you.
“You and Lois—”
“Lois knows!”
“And—that’s—whatever!” Kara flings her arms up and sighs. “Look, Clark, I appreciate the concern. But really, it’s not necessary. Everything is fine.”
“Kara, I know you’re used to doing these things off-planet,” Clark tries. He sets his hands on her biceps, gripping softly. “But here on Earth…things are different. People talk. Superpowered beings are—”
“Kara?” The bedroom door creaks and you step out, wearing only Kara’s Blondie t-shirt. Just seeing you makes her blood pressure drop.
“Hi, baby,” she murmurs, pulling away from Clark and moving towards you. “You sleep okay?”
She cups your cheek in one hand, smiling softly as you lean into the touch.
“Mhm. You run so hot, the bed’s cold without you.”
“I’ll be right back, promise.” She leans down and kisses your forehead, letting her lips press longer than necessary. You hum happily.
“Don’t be too long. You can kick Clark out, right?”
Kara snorts and rests her chin against your head. “For you, yes. If you need incentive to be patient, I can offer a reward.”
“You’d give it to me no matter what,” you tease.
“Go wait,” Kara says, shooing you back into her room. “I’ll kick him out.”
When the door closes, she takes a moment to rest against it. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. It’s just Clark. She can do this. She’s fought literal monsters. This is nothing.
(But truthfully—monsters are the easy part. A direct, violent target that needs to be taken down. Heartfelt talks are harder, tangled, always a mess. There’s no defeating the enemy hurting you, there is only the hitching breaths in the silence and the burn of unwanted tears.)
Kara turns around, and is surprised to find Clark watching. He looks—odd. Off. Face softened with slow understanding.
“She knows,” he says softly. “Doesn’t she?”
Kara exhales noisily. “Yeah. She knows.”
“How much?”
“I…” Kara looks around uselessly. How does she even begin to describe it all? The gentle tugging of your love on her soul. Giggles and sloppy kisses on the way home from a bar she can barely get tipsy at. Your hands combing through her hair as she whispers about Krypton, lips brushing your chest.
I love you whispered for the first time by you, in Kryptonian, pressed against Kara’s ear.
“She knows everything,” Kara says.
“You love her?”
And he’s—Clark’s looking at her like he knows. Something in Kara’s chest twinges. Months, she’s been hiding this from him. It was ‘just friends’ in the beginning, Kara unstable and volatile and off-center. She didn’t know she could love like this. That she could have someone to come home to every day, to smile at her or hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.
She was so unsure that she’d be able to keep it. That something wouldn’t drive you away. Kara doesn’t have people. She has herself, Clark. And now: you. And you’ve shown that you’re staying. That you want to be here.
“More than anything,” Kara replies. Her eyes sting.
Clark leaves soon after, and Kara comes back into her bedroom, Krypto darting past her to throw himself onto the bed with you.
“Oh, hi,” you coo as Krypto throws himself wildly back and forth across the bed. “C’mere. You missed us, huh?”
Kara collapses onto the mattress beside you. “Hey, what about me?”
You laugh and reach out a hand to stroke Kara’s hair. “Are you feeling neglected?”
“Yes,” Kara moans. She rolls over on top of you, resting her head on your chest. “Give me attention.”
You lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Anything for you.”
notes i'm so in love with kara omg. i need everyone to get more supergirl pilled rn
yelena + kate + y/n are at a fancy avengers gala with y/n as their plus one, as y/n is the only one who isnt an avenger.
while they’re all dressed up, y/n is especially dressed up because she knows yelena and kate have avengers responsibilities and have to talk to certain people and still do their jobs, and y/n teases them throughout the night knowing they have to remain composed for the cameras.
afterwards, they can’t get home soon enough to have their way with y/n who is a very smug brat who wanted exactly that.
lesbianism ensues…. go as crazy and horny as you want !!!!
run your mouth
— domme!kate bishop x bratty!fem!reader x domme!yelena belova
— kate bishop masterlist | yelena belova masterlist
you may know how to make Kate and Yelena’s jobs harder just by being yourself, but they’re both equally skilled in putting you in your place about it
content: SMUT ‼️; established relationship [kate + reader + yelena]; threesome; bratty!reader; brat taming; cunnilingus (reader receiving); praise; strap-riding; grinding; not proofread because i'm a gremlin; 2.2k; men and minors dni
a/n: another one that’s been sitting in my drafts for FAR too long. i’m still working on part 6 of my spider!reader series, but it takes a lot more brain power, soooo you get this good ol bishova x reader smut while you wait. enjoy <3
You were nothing if not a shit-starter, and tonight? You already had it in mind to stir the pot like you never have before. You were getting bored at the gala, and boredom for you, nine times out of ten, always led to bratty behavior.
The annual Avengers gala glitters around you, all gold lighting and champagne towers. The ballroom is packed wall-to-wall with politicians, donors, celebrities of all kinds, and flashbulbs going off every few seconds. But you can’t care about anything that’s going on around you. Not when your girlfriends look like that.
Kate stands near the center of the room speaking to a donor. She’s dressed in a tailored black suit, her hair in a low ponytail with wavy little pieces framing her face. Every now and then, she’ll send a wink in your direction that the donor she’s speaking to doesn’t catch. Beside Kate, Yelena looks just as delectable in her navy-blue suit, blonde hair swept back from her face. The expression on her face is cool and unreadable in the way only she could manage. One hand rests in her pocket while the other holds a champagne flute, and because you knew Yelena, she was probably wishing it was vodka instead.
And then there was you, choosing to cause a fluster in the simplest of ways with a criminally sexy dress. One much different from either of the numbers Kate or Yelena had bought you for the evening. Not that there was anything wrong with their options—both dresses being sexy in their own ways—but you’d just wanted to go the extra mile tonight.
The dress you picked is skin-tight black silk with a low neckline. The fabric clings to every inch of you like it’s painted on. The exposed slit in the thigh was enough to make both your girlfriends audibly inhale when you first showcased the dress in the bedroom earlier that evening.
Kate, for her part, had seemed to stop functioning the moment she saw you, her eyes wide as saucers and her gaze having a hard time staying above your waist. Yelena had simple stared at you for five hard seconds before saying, “No. Absolutely not. What happened to the dress I pick for you? Or Kate’s choice?”
To that, you’d smiled sweetly like you hadn’t just purposely undermined your girlfriend, and said, “I just liked this one better.”
The look on Kate’s face told you that she didn’t give a damn about her outfit choice being deliberately ignored. In fact, judging by the way her eyeballs still looked ready to rupture, she might’ve preferred you attend the gala in nothing more than your birthday suit if you could get away with it. Yelena, however, just stares at you with the look of a woman who knows that this night was not about to go off without a hitch.
By now, two hours into the gala, your boredom had reached a fever pitch. The initial thrill of wearing your little black dress had worn off, and you were tired of being good. You wanted to stir the pot. Kate was the closest, and therefore the easiest target. So, you make your way across the polished floors toward her, plucking a champagne flute off a passing waiter’s tray as you approach.
“…as for as I’ve been made aware, Stark Industries hopes to…” Kate’s sentence trails off as you appear behind her, casually slipping a hand into the back pocket of her trousers. The donor replies, seemingly not noticing Kate’s flub, but you can feel Kate’s spine lock up.
You bat your eyes innocently at her. “Sorry, baby, keep talking. I just wanted to be closer,”
“Aren’t you a little cuddle bug,” Kate chuckles softly. An arm goes around you waist and she pulls you closer to her. Her mouth finds tour ear and with a pointed squeeze to your waist, she whispers, “Please behave,”
You merely smirk, turning your head to whisper back, “And what if I don’t?”
As if overhearing this, Yelena looks up from her own conversation, glaring daggers in your direction. It’s a look she’s given you before. A look she knows is usually enough to make you fall in line. She doesn’t need to say or do anything for you to know that her patience with you is wearing thin, which is exactly what you’re going for.
The next hour becomes a game for you. You brushing imaginary lint off Yelena’s blazer, then letting your nails drag slowly against her stomach. You leaning against Kate during interviews, just enough to brush against her through fabric. You whispering things that were objectively salacious while both women had cameras catching their every micro expression.
“You’re so tense,” you murmur in Yelena’s ear just as she finishes a conversation with another government official. “Bricked up all because I’m disobeying you?”
“Do you think you are funny, milaya?” Yelena asks calmly, piercing hazel eyes holding yours.
You tilt your head at her. “I dunno, usually. Do you find me funny, Yelena?”
“Right now, you are just problem,” Yelena replies, her voice steely.
“Yeah?” You take her tie in one hand, yanking her closer, and by the surprise in her eyes, you’ve finally done something that caught her off guard. “What else do you find me?”
You watch Yelena’s throat work as she swallows. Her gaze travels slowly from your eyes, then your lips, then lower, and your skin ignites everywhere her gaze strays. She leans in enough for her mouth to brush your ear. “I will deal with you later,” she says. Then, she steps back, leaving you hot all over and in desperate need of another cold champagne.
By the time you’re leaving the gala, you can feel the collective sexual tension. It’s thick like the air before a thunderstorm. The front door of the penthouse clicks shut behind the three of you, the sound echoing in the quiet house. Your heels immediately get abandoned in the entryway, your feet aching from hours of standing around pretending to be civilized.
“Have fun tonight, did you?” Yelena is the first to speak.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, playing dumb.
“Mm.” Yelena calmly sets her keys down on the entryway table. “So, you do not recall spending the entire evening being bratty and trying to make us lose our composure in front of all those cameras and people?”
"I recall you dragging me to a boring gala," you say, pushing your luck by now. "What else was I supposed to do to pass the time?"
Kate exhales a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. Unlike Yelena who looks cool and composed despite being irritated with you, Kate still looks visibly affected by all the teasing. Her cheeks have remained a rosy shade of pink for the last few hours, her tie already loosened.
"Well, that was foul play and you know it, baby," Kate cuts in softly.
You grin at her. "Well like I told Yelena, if I hadn't been dragged to a boring event, I wouldn't have had to result to drastic measures,"
Kate opens her mouth to reply, but Yelena beats her to it. "Milaya, this is your last warning. I think you should quit while you're ahead."
Your smile goes smug. "But I'm having so much fun,"
Yelena is on you in an instant, breaking her last shred of restraint as she cages you in, strong arms on either side of your head. And damn it if the power play isn't an immediate turn-on. Yelena leans in enough to whisper a few Russian words into your ear, her warm breath sliding down your neck. You weren't that versed in the language, but you knew enough to know what she was saying right now, "You little firecracker,"
Your knees start to feel weak and it's a miracle you're still standing right now. And even despite the effect she was having on you, you lift your chin with your last shred of defiance. "I learn from the best."
Yelena hums, pressing her thumb against your lower lip just enough to part your lips. "I think you crave attention too much. Think you need to be put in your place,"
Footsteps on the hardwood greet you. Kate sandwiches you on the other side. You smile at her and then back at Yelena. You know your voice is breathless when you speak again, but you don’t care. “I guess you should put me in my place then,”
And that’s exactly what they do.
Yelena attacks the left side of your neck with kisses, alternating between intentional sucking, biting, and then soothing those bites with her tongue. Kate kisses her way along the right side of your jaw before making her way down your neck, one hand playing with the strap of your dress, sliding it down your shoulder, exposing delicious skin to her greedy mouth. Your head tilts back against the wall behind you, a moan pulled from your throat.
Yelena hikes your left thigh around her waist, humming as she makes her way further and further down your body. “So sweet and pliant now, she breathes, kneeling in front of you now, but still keeping that thigh over her shoulder. “What happened to our bad girl from earlier?”
You try to respond, but all that comes out is a soft mewl as Yelena bunches the material of your dress up around your hips. “You are so turned on,” Yelena goes on as she drags one finger along the damp cloth at your center.
“Yelena, please,” you hear yourself gasping.
“Oh, there she is,” Yelena drawls. “Are you obeying me now?”
Her thumb presses against your clit through the soaked fabric, making you jolt. “Answer me.”
“Answer Yelena, baby,” Kate chastises before returning her mouth to your neck.
“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, I’ll…I’ll obey, just…Yelena, please,”
Yelena smirks before finally, blessedly sliding your underwear to the side. Kate kisses your neck once more, then your lips, before joining Yelena in her kneeled position in front of you, and the sight of both of your girlfriends on their knees ready to worship you is absolutely sinful, and once again, it’s a miracle you’re still standing. It’s a feat that proves even more challenging once you feel not one, but two mouths on your pussy.
You cry out, clutching the wall behind you as two tongues flick in and out of you at lightning speed. Only a few seconds in, and you already feel like you could come right now, just on the eroticism alone.
“So good for us, baby,” Kate murmurs into your heat. You feel her fingers reaching up to scissor your opening, bringing more wetness to the surface for her and Yelena to lick away. “So hot and sweet,”
“Yes, our perfect girl,” Yelena agrees. “You can be bratty, but we always know how to get you to behave, don’t we? Always know how to make you so submissive and sweet,”
Your head bobs up and down like a bobblehead. You’re past the point of coherent words. Your brain is blue-screening and all you can think about, all you can feel is Yelena and Kate’s mouths, making you wet, making you sore, making your eyes roll back into your head.
The wave inside you builds and builds and when it finally crests and you fall over the edge, you white-knuckle the hair in both women’s scalps. “Oh yes!” You cry out. “Oh god, yes, right there!”
The wave seems to keep crashing and crashing, with neither woman letting up their ministrations. Kate’s hand holds your right hip to keep you steady while Yelena holds your left, keeping you upright despite the fact that all you want to do is crumble.
The world comes back to you in a series of blinks as your girlfriends lick the last pulses of pleasure from your center, then stand to their feet, both their mouths and chins glistening with the evidence of you.
“Upstairs,” Yelena murmurs against your lips before kissing you, letting you taste your own arousal on her tongue.
You practically float up the stairs to the bedroom. Kate undresses you with reverence while Yelena pulls on her strap-on harness, and the next thing you know, the three of you are in bed, with you bouncing on Yelena’s strap while Kate grinds against your ass, and Yelena seems to love the extra weight on top of her.
Animalistic moans that belong to all three of you fill the room, along with the accompanying smell of sex. If you thought you were incoherent before when your girlfriends were merely going down on you in the foyer, you were incomprehensible now, practically drooling as you ride Yelena’s strap while also rocking back against Kate. Your second orgasm is even more powerful than the first, pulling a broken cry from your throat and rendering you absolutely boneless.
The three of you soon collapse onto the bed in a pile of limbs, breathing heavy, holding each other. Kisses land on your shoulder, your neck, your collarbones, just your two girlfriends loving on you after absolutely fucking you senseless.
And as the three of you drift off not long after, absolutely spent from your night, you knew you’d act up a thousand times if it meant getting absolutely demolished in the best way by the two loves of your life.
OMG DIVA! I’ve been trying to send you this ask for ages, my internet is not the business right now. Anyway, how are you? How have you been? I hope well! Also I have two very important questions
1. When do you think you’ll be opening requests again? Absolutely no pressure if the answer is awhile, I’m just curious, because I may or may not wanna send one 👀
and 2. Do you have a schedule right now? As in do you have any fics that you’re working on that I should look forward to? (Not that I wouldn’t look forward to all your fics)
Hope you’re doing well! Sorry I’m so spotty with checking in!
- ⚔️
hey, nice to hear from you again, sword anon! i’ve been hanging in there. quite literally. feel like i’m on the edge of a cliff right now, but it’s fiiiiiine! we literally don’t have to get into it 🙃 i hope you’re doing amazing though
now onto your questions!
1. i don’t wanna give you a definitive answer or anything, buuuuut i miiiight reopen them next month in august?
and 2. i do have fics that i’m working on. a couple actually. i have the next installment of my spider!reader series that i’m working on, i have a half-baked Kate angst one that i’m trying to breathe life into and also a little vi x reader x caitlyn kiramman love triangle thing that may not even see the light of day, but i’ve been playing around with it. i also think i wanna write more southern wanda, ya know summ light
again, thanks for reaching out! always great to hear from you! ❤️
Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader
Your girlfriend Kate finds sanctuary in your home
[A/N] Stayed up really late writing a fic so there'd be at least one over the weekend even though I had to get up early today for work 🙃 Hope you guys enjoy this quick Kate imagine 😘
When you open the door you find that you’re not surprised to see Kate. Even the fact she’s bloody and bruised doesn’t really shock you. It almost shocks you that you’re not shocked, but you’d come to expect this from Kate. Although you’d known she was the (better) Hawkeye, she was still insisting on keeping you separate from her superhero work. She didn’t want you to get dragged into her mess. Yet here she was.
“Sorry,” She mumbles, sounding exhausted. “Pretty sure someone’s watching my apartment. Didn’t know where else to go.”
Kate stumbles into your apartment, followed by Lucky. When Kate flops down onto your couch, Lucky jumps up next to her. Kate tries to push him off but you shake your head, “It’s fine, let him.”
“I know your lease doesn’t allow pets-”
“Lucky’s not a pet, he’s family. He can sit on the couch.” You sit down next to Kate, watching the way she leans back against your couch, tilting her head back and letting out an exhausted groan. “Do I have to worry that anyone followed you here?”
“I was careful. I wouldn’t lead anyone here, I swear. I just need somewhere to spend the night. Today’s been… A lot.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Kate says, opening her eyes to meet your gaze. She sees the look on your face and she sighs, “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t-”
“Want me to get dragged into your mess. You told me.”
“-Want to think about it right now,” Kate finishes. “I’d rather just focus on being with you.”
“I think all you need to focus on right now is sleeping,” You say. “You look exhausted.”
“I am but when was the last time we saw each other? I’ve been the world’s worst girlfriend recently. Fuck, it’s not fair to you.” Kate scrubs a hand over her face, smiling when Lucky reaches over to lick her cheek. “I will take you on vacation, I swear.”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” You tease lightly. “I’m sure ‘vacation’ is just a buzz word for you now. It’s lost all meaning.”
Kate can’t tell if you’re angry or not, and she reaches out to take your hand, “Where do you wanna go? Seriously, I’ll take you anywhere.”
“I’ve heard that before, baby. I said Paris last time. I said Cambodia the time before that.”
“God, yes you did,” Kate says, squeezing her eyes closed again as if she’s in pain. “And I promised we’d go to Cambodia then I promised we’d go to Paris and we didn’t even go as far as ‘Bad Pizza’.” Lucky barks at the mention of pizza and Kate quickly shushes him, worried your neighbours will rat you out.
“I get it Kate, don’t worry.”
“No, don’t say that, it makes me feel even worse.” Kate looks at you, feeling terrible when she sees the patient expression on your face. It’s late, you’re in your pyjamas – maybe she got you out of bed for her bullshit. “You deserve better.”
“Don’t start saying that shit. I’m dating an Avenger; I literally have the best girlfriend ever. You’re busy a lot of the time, it’s fine, I get it.”
“You’re being too nice, stop it.”
“Okay uh… You’re a bitch?”
Kate raises her eye-brows, “That’s where you jumped to?”
“You told me to be mean!”
“Well, no, I said stop being so nice. You could get annoyed about our lack of vacation or my lack of emotional availability but you just jumped straight to bitch.”
You nudge her shoulder, before reaching over to scratch behind Lucky’s ears as he pants happily, “I’m only dating you for this guy so it’s totally fine.”
“I knew it. I knew I had no rizz, it’s all the dog.”
You smile, gently cupping her cheek with your hand, frowning when she winces. Your fingers run gently over the bruises and cuts on her face – you’d almost forgotten what she looked like without a bruised face, as soon as they recover, new ones appear from whatever battle she’s most recently gotten caught up in. “Do you want some Tylenol?”
Kate hesitates for a moment before nodding, “Yeah please.”
You head into the bathroom, fetching the bottle from your cabinet. Kate leans back on the couch again, her hand running carefully along her ribs, trying to assess the damage without looking. They hurt but she doesn’t think they’re bruised or broken – she’s had a broken rib before and it was a pain having to rest until it had healed. It had taken forever to get back into her usual routine. When you return with the bottle, Kate dry swallows two pills and then nuzzles into your side when you sit back down next to her. “Will you hold me?”
“You’re feeling sentimental,” You comment, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, being careful not aggravate her injuries.
“I missed you,” Kate mumbles into your shoulder. “We’re going on that vacation.”
“No, we’re not,” You tease. “There will always be something that requires your attention.”
“Y/N-”
“It’s a good thing Katie, I love that about you. You went through so much shit and you managed to become this… Absolute badass who always runs towards danger if you think it’ll help someone. You could’ve so easily become bitter and angry but you didn’t. I don’t know how you do it.”
Kate thinks about it for a moment. There are only a handful of people who are allowed to call her Katie – Clint, America, and you. She’s only known you for a year but you’re quickly becoming the most important person in her life. Your reassurances don’t help though – she feels guilty for only turning up for the first time in three weeks because she needed somewhere to sleep that wasn’t her apartment. When had she even seen you before that? It had been your suggestion; you’d gone for a walk with her through central park with Lucky. You’d asked Kate if she minded going back to central park and she’d said she didn’t care, not mentioning that she still has nightmares about that day when she’d been fourteen years old.
Kate pulls her phone out of her pocket, “Paris or Cambodia?”
“What?”
“Which one? Seriously, I’m booking the flights right now.”
“Kate, you don’t have to-”
“Cambodia would be fun, didn’t they like film Tomb Raider there? Or the games were like inspired by Cambodia or something? Remember we played that?”
“Yeah-”
“We’re going to live out our Tomb Raider dreams in Cambodia and it’s going to be the best vacation we’ve ever had. Next month? Do you think you’ll be able to get the time off work?”
“I- Yeah, probably-”
“I’m booking them then. No expense spared, I’ll book us first class- Oh shit, no I won’t, that’s ridiculous. We’ll have to connect in Singapore- Fuck it, let’s spend a few days there too.”
“Katie, you don’t have to book this just to make me feel better-”
“Honestly, it’s more to make me feel better. And besides,” She turns to look up at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I want to spend a few weeks with my favourite girl. There can’t be any kind of Avengers emergency in Cambodia. We can just spend all day exploring or sitting by a pool or… Whatever we want.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Trouble is your middle name.”
Kate presses checkout on the flights before tucking her phone back into her pocket, vowing to sort the rest out in the morning. Her arm wraps around your waist as she nuzzles into you again, Lucky curling up by her feet. “It's booked, no backing out now. Can we just… Cuddle here for a bit?”
You kiss the top of her head, “Of course we can.”
Kate closes her eyes, the pain in her ribs fading as she relaxes into your arms. You always so warm, so familiar, it instantly calms her. Maybe she should turn up here after missions more often. There’s still a lot of work that she needs to do but she’s going to resolve everything before your vacation. And if she doesn’t, eh, she’s sure Clint will tap in for her. Nothing will stop her catching that plane with you. You’re her sanctuary, and she needs to make sure you never think she’s taking you for granted. You’re everything to her, her quiet in the storm. There’s no way Kate would rather be than right here in your arms.
