I’m Solar, but you can call me Sol, I’m 19 and I’m kinda new to this whole writing thing but I hope you enjoy my page anyways and feedback is always appreciated!
The fandoms I’ll write for right now are mostly Marvel, will probably end up being for Wanda. And things im comfortable and uncomfortable with are listed below!
Something to say about my page. You guys are responsible for your own consumption of media. I don’t condone minors on my page considering I’m gonna end up writing some NSFW things, but you guys are responsible for your own consumption of media.
As long as you’re a decent person, everyone is welcome. Just be nice and don’t fetishize my sexuality please. Yes that includes men. As long as you’re respectful then everyone is welcome.
Things I’m uncomfortable with (will add more as we go):
weapon kinks, foot fetishes, anything to do with fecal matter, any type of super violent kinks
Things I’m comfortable with:
Praise, degradation, anal, piss kinks, blood (as long as it isn’t from any kind of weapon), pet play, mild pain kinks, CNC (depending on what it is), mommy/daddy, bondage, overstim/edging
summary — after a long day spent on the beach with your girlfriends, wanda and natasha’s love is loud enough to hear in the silence of your bedroom
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, domestic dominance, mommy kink, daddy kink, exploration of subspace in nonsexual situations, fluff galore, fainest appearance of bratty reader, warning spank, wanda taunting natasha, hot mommy wanda in a bikini, sexy daddy nat on the beach in a bikini, dare i say more?
authors note — i combined like six different requests for this, so it’s quite a bit longer than my other summer oneshot! also, i can’t believe how perfectly this title fit a soft little moment written towards the end, it wasn’t planned at all but the full circle moment is beyond fulfilling!
The thin flamingo pink straps of your favorite summertime bathing suit made elegant crosses against your back whenever you allowed the unrelenting August sun to fall against you intimately. They were intricate enough that Wanda spent most nights tracing the evidence of once fairer skin with soft fingers, hot breath fanning tantalizingly across the nape of your neck as she spooned you in bed, but still simple enough that the lacy top didn’t take any more than a few seconds to slip on while dashing to get ready and meet them by the front door before Wanda came up to find you herself. The vibrant bathing suit that had been purchased by Natasha brought out a spark in your eyes that was addictive, and frequently you found yourself reaching for it whenever a pool day had been declared by your girlfriends.
Today, Natasha had decided to do something different, and like many others that had fallen into the cycle of outdoor activities while the warmth of summertime lasted, you found yourself submerged in the waters of the Atlantic, granules of coarse sand embedded throughout your scalp while the aroma of salt air captivating your senses. The rush of people had died down since late June and early July, leaving mostly locals around you as you frolicked and splashed through the waves that crashed against your back. Droplets of water clung to your skin, creating racetracks and mazes out of your arms and belly as you bobbed in and out of the waist deep water, only tracking the location of your girlfriends sporadically when you thought you’d drifted too far in another direction.
Up higher on the beach, surrounded by granules of sand the color of a perfectly roasted marshmallows – in your opinion at least, Natasha was a freak who liked her smores black and charred – Wanda and Natasha on their bellies, their arms folded beneath their heads as they pleaded with the sun to allow them even an ounce of golden color to bear through the early weeks of approaching fall. Wanda had been more fortunate than Natasha in the months leading up to this impromptu outing, bearing a gorgeous bronze sheen against her limbs and face, while Natasha had burnt to a crisp within minutes despite every technique she’d tried to use. It was endearing, but desperately you wanted them out here with you. You’d spent three hours building sandcastles and pouring sand over Wanda’s feet whenever she’d explicitly told you not to do that, but eventually she’d sent you off to the water when your relentless energy grew to be too much to handle all at once.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been out in the depths of the ocean for, diving into waves and body surfing back to shore whenever you grew tired of keeping yourself afloat, but as the sun faded farther into the horizon, you knew that at least a considerable amount of time had elapsed since Wanda sent you off to burn off some restless energy. With one final somersault into a massive wave, you trudged back up the expanse of sandy shorelines, marveling at the the endless abyss of blue that stretched on for miles above you. The cloudless sky had been a rarity in recent days, unpredictable sun showers and thunderstorms wreaking havoc on Westview like many other neighboring towns in New Jersey, but today had been a yearned for glimpse of peace that thankfully wasn’t quite over yet, and while you would absolutely never admit it, you were glad that Natasha had woken you up sweetly at seven in the morning instead of letting you sleep like you’d demanded.
Your girlfriends were easy to spot, the large blue and tan umbrella one of the only ones that littered the shorelines. There was an endless array of color schemes spread across the beach, so much so that it was honestly an eyesore, but Wanda and Natasha had always preferred simpler things, and a refined palette of baby blues and muted tans made up most of their beach equipment. Everything had been custom made by a small boutique just a few blocks away; from their towels, chairs, umbrellas, down to the cooler packed with crisp waters and hard seltzer, it was all the same palette, which only made spotting two redheads on a beach full of bottle blondes and brunettes easier.
When you reached them, water dripping off your frame as the wind blew and developed you in a gentle chill, you made sure that you stood directly over top of Wanda, not only blocking her back from the sun, but getting her wet in the process. You grinned cheekily down at her, kicking sand up at Natasha’s ankles when the fleeting thought of her being left out crept up on you. The russian cursed beneath her breath, turning over to send you a very pointed glare, only to be ignored as you continued to grin down at Wanda, who refused to budge despite your ministrations.
“Mommy!” You whined when you didn’t get your way, shuffling your feet against the sand in a petulant fit, though her head was still burrowed into her arms as she lounged against the thick blue and tan towel that you decided now was your worst enemy. Your own head was fuzzy and light as a result of her constant babying since leaving the house that morning, having apparently discussed taking you out in subspace with Natasha while you were upstairs taking forever to get ready. Since that first time you’d gone to the aquarium and explored the limits of their dominance and your willingness to submit, you’d found an easy comfort in their domestic control, and that didn’t falter for a second even on a crowded beach. You trusted them, and more importantly, they trusted themselves to steer you clear into a blissful haze of intimate submission without pushing you too far over the edge and sending you into a drop. So much of their effortless love and careful time had been poured into shaping your trust, it felt like another lifetime ago when Wanda had been the very thing you aimed all of your fears and insecurities at, but now she was the one thing that you wanted so unabashedly that you weren’t above throwing a fit in public to get it.
You screeched in startled shock when she abruptly turned onto her back, emerald eyes narrowed into thin, unamused daggers before she was reaching up and grabbing your wrists, pulling you down firmly on top of her, hardly caring that your wet body made an impression against her own dry bathing suit. She was planning on getting in the water with you anyways, so the evidence of your frame against her front was hardly of any significance. You whined in shameful embarrassment when her palm crashed down against your ass in a strike of pointed warning, the initial clap of contact thankfully drowned out by incessant seagulls that swarmed a nearby tent where french fries had been spilled by a toddler. For a moment, you focused on how her skin was warm beneath your body, your mind already melting away into peaceful contentment now that you had her arms around your waist, but you were brought back to the chaos of the beach when her lips ghosted along the shell of your ear, her breath heavy and warm as it swirled around your skin. “You throw a fit and we go home. Is that how you want today to go, little one?”
You whined, shaking your head while a tear-filled expression came over your once radiant features. You absolutely did not want to go home, you were having so much fun pretending to be both a fishie and a mermaid, you’d begged Natasha all summer to take you down to the beach for a full day of activities and fun, but she’d denied your request every time because of the unrelenting crowd of rude tourists that gathered in Westview like clockwork each year. You didn’t want to lose all of this prematurely, so you mumbled a meek apology and hid your face within Wanda’s neck, on the verge of tears that she’d admittedly seen coming.
Her hand rubbed your back soothingly, a weighted presence that brought a comforting peace over you easily, and comfortably you turned your head to look at the villages of sandcastles you’d built at the start of your adventure. Your fingers, ever unable to remain still, wandered over to the ones that were closest around you in disheveled clumps of beige, gravity having pulled them down over the hours that you’d spent in the water. Natasha’s castles still looked the best beside yours and Wandas, irritatingly so, and without restraint you smashed your palm down against her tallest one, careful not to damage the seashells that had she’d so carefully pressed into the dry sand around it, but effectively bringing a calamitous end to her quaint kingdom. Wanda’s disapproval was not so quietly delivered upon you, and disapprovingly she gripped your chin between slender digits, her glare unwavering and able to easily undo you. A strained whimper fell off of your tongue, the sound soft and meek, reflective of your sensitive headspace that despite its newfound edge of brattiness, both she and Natasha adored.
“What is with the attitude?” Her voice is thin, edged with guarded dominance that has you whimpering and searching aimlessly for protection from Natasha, but the Russian at your side is in no mood to help you out, equally as curious as Wanda, and she merely narrows her gaze in pointed waiting as she nods just slightly back at her wife. You let out a soft grunt, teary eyes blinking up at your girlfriend as you attempt to press your face into her neck in embarrassed shame, but her fingers keep you still, only loosening when she feels your muscles go rigid with emotions you have no way to verbalize so far into a state of submissive bliss. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for Mommy.” She coos tenderly, shifting her approach as she watches you try to formulate a coherent answer to her previous question, effectively rousing yourself from that delicious state of bliss she’d worked tirelessly to bring forth.
“Be a good girl for Mommy.” You mumbled, a soft pout pulling your lips downward as you stared deep into the kaleidoscope of greens that made up her dazzling emerald eyes. There was no easy color for her eyes to claim, but the glimmering appeal of a deep emerald hue was the most accurate, and a ring that typically adorned her slender fingers beside her engagement ring was a sparkling ring with a pristinely cut emerald that you had gotten her for her birthday. “Ring gone.” Your pout deepened when your realized that the chill of metal that typically came with her hands on your face was missing, and the gleam of sunlight catching jewels was absent as well.
Wanda smiled softly, peppering your face in kisses that distracted you from your lapse in sadness. “Mommy left them at home so they’d be safe. Just like we left your ring at home, remember, sweetheart?” She laughed softly, brushing the pads of her thumbs against your sun kissed cheeks, softly tsking when she noticed just how pink you’d become since venturing down to the water. “I think somebody needs more sunscreen.”
“No!” You whined sharply in adamant protest, wriggling away from her chest in a futile attempt to avoid the reapplication of her coconut scented sunscreen all together, but again she held you tightly to her chest, and again she tutted in disapproval.
“Behave.” She warned lowly, accent seeping into the single uttered word. You whined, kicking your feet petulantly against the granules of sand that had been tickling your skin since she’d initially pulled you down onto her. “Malyshka, Mommy has to put sunscreen on you. She doesn’t want her little duckling to burn.” The added emphasis of her finger gently pressing against the tip of your nose did little to convince you, but the smallest part of your brain that still had the ability to think rationally warned you that there was no use in putting up a fight.
“Daddy do.” You negotiated, knowing that at the very least, Natasha wouldn’t take the time to tease your already sensitive body like Wanda would, and did. She’d had you a blubbering mess of desperation before you left the house, her fingers having slipped beneath the fabric of your bathing suit on more than one occasion in a manner that was painfully suggestive.
Wanda rolled her eyes fondly, shrugging you off of her body and toward Natasha who was trying her best to muffle her amused laughter as she watched you with fondness etched into her soft mesmerizing eyes. If Wanda’s eyes were impossible to name, hers were forbidden. There was no color in the world that would ever even come close to the colors that swirled within her eyes each day, constantly changing as landscapes and outfits did. The sun had dried you almost entirely since you’d abandoned the high tides of the midday Atlantic, but still a towel was run over your limbs and exposed belly before Natasha smeared the dreaded white lotion across her palms, warming it up before she even tried to touch your skin, having learned from Wanda’s mistake that morning. You wriggled impatiently, huffed and whined throughout the entire process, but you let her do it, so neither she nor Wanda reprimanded your attitude.
“Now was that really so bad, utenok?” Natasha laughed teasingly, kissing the tip of your sunkissed nose affectionately before she turned toward the beach bag laid upright on the sand a few inches back from the towels, shaded by the umbrella that was practically useless as none of you had spent even a minute beneath its provided shade.
“Don’t like.” You grumbled, sinking into Wanda’s lap when the Sokovian finally sat upright on her own towel, abandoning her plans of sunbathing, instead, patting her thighs in a wholesome invitation to cuddle properly.
“I know you don’t like it, you make that very clear.” She mused softly against your hairline, tangling her fingers into the straps of your bathing suit, taking a peak at the tanlines that had darkened considerably since you’d first stepped foot outside. “What do you say we go play in the water some more while Daddy gets you an ice cream?”
“Ice cream?” You perked up, eyes shining brightly beneath the sun at the mention of your favorite summer treat. You’d made it your mission to try every ice cream parlor in Westview, and being a beach town with an ample amount of tourism during the warmer months of the year, there were plenty to go through. You’d nearly completed the list, all that remained was the small shop toward the front of the beach, where the line was almost always wrapped around the building.
“Yes, baby, ice cream. I told you we’d get a treat, didn’t I?” Wanda laughs at your excitement, eyes sparkling with elation as she reveled in the simple moments that were coming to a rushed end. In only a couple of weeks you’d be back at school, no longer living on campus but still away from home for hours upon hours in the already limited day, and to fill that time alone both she and Natasha would dive back into work. They’d delegated the minor tasks to trusted employees to spend the utmost amount of time with you as possible while they could, and as nice as it had been to take a much needed break and focus on their personal lives, they were itching to get back into the office, handling everything by themselves like they’d been doing for years since starting their own company. “What kind do you want?”
“Strawberry! With peanut butter sauce and hot fudge!” The grin that split your lips was wide and so addictive, Wanda couldn’t help but allow her eyes to dance between your eyes alight with soft affection and your smile twinged with golden joy. You were the epitome of ethereal, lounging against her chest in a bathing suit that left little to the imagination, but still you looked so wholesome with your ass out for the residents of Westview to see, granules of sand clinging to your spankable cheeks.
“Oh yes, how silly of me. I should’ve known.” She teases, because truthfully, she should’ve. You ordered the same thing all summer, and when Natasha suggested you try something else, knowing a handful of spots in Westview had signature flavors that tourists traveled just to get, you’d pouted and outright refused saying that was just as bad as you going around kissing other women. Wanda had spanked you for that, assuring that you remembered your place and that nobody could ever please you like she and Natahsa could. Still, you didn’t get a different flavor. “My little strawberry monster!” Wanda attacked your neck with kisses, her laughter mixing with yours as Natasha stood behind you both, phone out, capturing the sight of the both of you so entangled with love.
“One strawberry ice cream for the little one, and what will you be having, Wands?” Natasha’s eyes glimmered beneath the sun, her red locks practically ablaze beneath the harsh kiss of daylight. She looked like something straight out of a portrait, but you doubted any artist could replicate her beauty by any standards.
“A bomb pop.” Was Wanda’s answer, and without any further questions, Natasha began the long walk up the beach, growing smaller and smaller as she left you behind. You waved at her retreating frame, hopeful that she’d sense your affection and turn to wave back, but it never came, and tearfully you turned your gaze to Wanda, eyes wide and glimmering with feelings that were all the more powerful in your blissful state of submission. She kissed your pout away affectionately, tapping your thighs thoughtfully. “What do you say you show Mommy what you were doing in the water, huh? Should we go down and explore while we wait for Daddy?”
“Want Daddy to come back.” You pouted, the sudden reminder of Natasha’s absence falling heavily on your sensitive heart. Wanda smiled sympathetically, caressing your cheeks with delicate affection.
“Daddy will be back soon, my little love. Come on, up you get.” Wanda gently eased you off of her lap, taking your hand in hers the second her feet were planted on the hot sand. She grimaced slightly, unprepared for the coarse granules to be so warm beneath the soles of her feet, but she didn’t let it deter her. Instead, it only hastened her speed, and you giggled as she pulled you along the beach, weaving in and out of families and couples that lingered on the shorelines.
You must’ve been down in the water for nearly an hour and a half, splashing at Wanda and diving into her chest whenever a wave rolled through and rocked you into her, the sun truly beginning to fall beneath the tide now and turn the sky a breathtaking sight of divine orange and sweet pink around you. Your hair was a tousled mess on top of your head, held out of your face by a hair tie that was surely knotted in place by now. The Sokovian would have to meticulously untangle it before you fell into bed, but that was always something she adored doing, and you enjoyed it just as much. You whined when her playful ministrations came to an abrupt end, her fingers no longer digging into your ribs as she tickled you in the waist deep water that splashed and lapped at your upper torso. Her eyes had been searching the shorelines for any sign of Natasha since you’d ventured into the abyss of salt water, but now they narrowed in on one thing, something that you hadn’t noticed just yet.
When you did notice, Wanda’s soft fingers tilting your head in the direction of the beige and blue umbrella, you booked it to shore without so much as a glance back at her. Natasha had seen your attack coming from a mile away, and had somehow been prepared for it when your body crashed into hers, your lips, soft from the granules of sand that you had face planted into a couple of times, peppering kisses on any inch of exposed skin that you could reach. She laughed, pulling you away only to connect your lips in a soft embrace. When Wanda caught up to you, you’d piled in on the towels, eating ice cream as you watched the sun fall further and further beneath the blanket of endless murky blue water. The shorelines of Jersey weren’t marvelously blue like the coast of Florida or the Maldives, but they were perfect for the simple moments you yearned to share with both Wanda and Natasha.
When ice creams were finished, yours the last to be scraped clean of soft pink goodness, Wanad had forced you still as she wiped off your face and hands, softly reprimanding you as you whined and tried to wiggle away. How you’d gotten ice cream on both your cheeks and your nose, she wasn’t entirely sure because she had watched you use a spoon the entire time, but still your face was sticky and she doted on you lovingly all while Natasha began to pack away all of your belongings.
You’d walked to the beach, pulling along a little cart that held the umbrella and the beach bag and cooler, and that morning it hadn’t seemed like a far stretch, but as darkness covered Westview entirely and the long day of playing and vulnerability caught up with you, it felt endless. When you finally passed Agatha’s house, your feet dragging against the sidewalk as you held onto Naasha’s hand firmly (well more like she held onto you because you had a tendency to wander off anytime something caught your attention), your were absolutely certain that it had probably been at least twenty years, although Wanda would say it had only been twenty minutes and that was only because you kept stopping to whine and complain about being sleepy before Natasha started dragging you along again.
When you slipped inside of the house, the airconditioning sent a shiver down your side, and instinctively you stepped closer to Natasha, seeking out the warmth of her sun kissed body. Natasha hums, smiling softly down at you, taking in the sight of your pink cheeks and tired smiles. Wanda had pulled the cart into the garage to be dealt with tomorrow, and when she returned, she merely grabbed both yours and Natasha’s hands and guided you upstairs, where pajamas were picked out, and towels for the shower were grabbed. The water was warm as it cascaded down your body, and Wanda’s fingers were soft as she rubbed soap against your skin and scrubbed sand from your hair. Natasha stayed clinging to you whenever Wanda wasn’t working on getting you clean, only fully separating when she wanted to be the one to rub strawberry scented body wash across her wifes body. It was a soft encounter, one full of delicate praise and affection, and slowly they were easing you deeper down, farther than they’d done that morning before you set off for the shore.
Miraculously, the pajamas you’d picked for bed were a matching set, and one of your very own. The button up top was a soft blue color, printed with dusty white clouds and the smallest yellow duckling embroidered on the bottom left side. Natasha had done that for you one night, wanting to practice her skills, and while it was rather wonky and a little unproportional, you loved rubbing your fingers over the stitches as you fell asleep. She and Wanda had on the same style set, although Wanda’s were black and Natasha’s were a deep olive green. They matched in their own ways, and you couldn’t help but feel like they were so indicative of your differing personalities.
Wanda had you sit at the vanity so she could brush out your hair and get it braided for you, all while Natasha rambled on the other side of the room, telling you and Wanda about the woman that had stood in front of her at the ice cream parlor and had decided to sample every single flavor, only to not get anything and walk out with a fuss. Wanda laughed, but you were too sleepy to really pay attention, your head falling backwards until it landed against her sternum delicately, your eyes closed and your breathing light as she secured the last braid together.
“Come on, sweetheart. Lets get you all comfy in bed.” She cooed softly, not giving you a second to protest before she was guiding you to the bed that Natasha was already laying in. You crawled into the middle, your head falling onto the Russian’s chest with practiced ease before your hand reached out to hold onto Wanda’s. “Get comfy, baby. Mommy’s right here.”
“Mommy.” You mumbled, eyes barely open, head resting heavily on Natasha’s chest as you listened to the rhythmic beating of her heart.
“Shh, sleep baby. Mommy will be here tomorrow.” Wanda gently laid her other hand on your belly, her thumb slipping between the buttons that fastened your top, rubbing soft circles on your skin. It was only a handful of minutes before you were asleep, soft sighs slipping off of your lips as you snuggled closer to her warmth.
“Such a Mommy’s girl.” Natasha laughed softly, brushing her thumb against your cheek before Wanda swatted her hand away, not wanting her soft affection to wake you up already.
“You should’ve seen the near meltdown she had when you left for ice cream. I’d say you have yourself a little Daddy’s girl too. She just likes to push my buttons more than yours.” Wanda snorted softly, twisting onto her side, slowly pulling her hand off of your belly to instead intertwine her fingers with Natasha’s.
“Oh don’t I know it. I can’t say I blame her either.” Natasha’s smirk was taunting, and Wanda rolled her eyes fondly.
“Watch yourself, detka. There are plenty of other rooms in this house where I can remind you of who’s in charge. Or, maybe I should just take you here and make you be quiet. After all, I would hate to leave you unsatisfied if your desperate moans were to wake her up.” Wanda warned whimsically, and Natasha’s cheeks, already pink from the sun, grew crimson, her sudden silence a telling feature of her submission. “That’s what I thought.” Wanda tutted, getting her own body comfortable on the large bed you shared.
“I love you.” Natasha whispered into the silence, her thumb rubbing patterns on Wanda’s cold hand.
“I love you.” Wanda whispered back before she turned her attention to you, peacefully sleeping, unaware of the banter that happened over your head. “I love you, moya utenok.”
summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.
genre : country!au, wlw, countryside life.
warnings : smut (only in the beginning), baby talk & that's about it. (i think?)
words count : 4.4k (-ish??)
an : this took very long to come ik and i'm sorry. writers were right about writers block not being funny. also, not nicely proofread so if this chapter doesn't make sense idk anymore T-T
𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three 𖦹 part four 𖦹 part five 𖦹
HORSES & ROMANCE:
— Sweet As Sin
📍The Langford Ranch House
Clare Valley, Southern Australia
The night air was thick with the scent of grilled meat, blooming roses, and fresh soil — a proper summer evening on the ranch.
Dinner, the usual you had every Fridays at the main house with your grandmother, your dad and now Nat joining you, had gone surprisingly well. Georges, ever the stoic cowboy type, had talked about fencing issues and cattle prices, while your grandma insisted on feeding Natasha an extra slice of peach pie she “clearly needed.”
You’d caught Nat’s eyes more than once across the table — dark green glinting with mischief every time she stole a glance down your tank top or let her boot press lightly to your ankle beneath the table.
And now, in the quiet hush of the kitchen, the others settled outside by the firepit, you were at the sink washing dishes, sleeves of her worn over flannel pushed up, cheeks warm from the wine, the heat and all her teasing.
You didn’t hear her come in.
But you felt her.
Strong arms slipped around your waist from behind, grip firm and possessive. Her hands slid just under your tank, warm against your skin.
“You know,” She murmured, breath brushing hot over your ear, “watching you being all domestic like this? Kinda drives me wild.”
You chuckled softly, hands scrubbing the soapy sponge over the porcelain plate. “Because I’m washing dishes?”
“No, because you look so damn good doing it.” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear. “That, and I’ve been waiting hours to get my hands on you.”
You leaned back into her, heart already picking up pace. “They’re right outside,” you whispered, knowing her intentions, the thrill of it crackling between your legs.
"Mm," The Russian hummed in acknowledgement. “Then keep quiet.”
Her hands slid lower, fingers toying with the waistband of your shorts, making your breath hitch in the slightest. “You wore these on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked. “You knew what they’d do to me.”
“They’re just shorts, Romanoff.”
You'd breathed out, your eyes almost fluttering close. You almost allowed yourself to get lost in the moment but you couldn't fully.
“They’re absolute torture,” She muttered, and then kissed down the curve of your neck, slow and lingering, her hands finally slipping inside — knuckles grazing over lace and skin.
You gripped the edge of the sink.
“Tasha—”
She smirked against your skin. “I’ve been thinking about something. All evening, really.”
“Mm?”
Her hand cupped you gently, just enough pressure to elicit a little whimper out of you. “What if I put a baby in you?”
Your entire body went still — except your heart, which leapt like a startled colt. You turned your head slightly, caught her gaze. She was smiling, sultry and serious all at once.
“I’m not joking,” She whispered, nose brushing against your jaw now. “I want that with you. You, barefoot and pregnant on this ranch. Belly round with our kid.”
You swallowed thickly. “You sure that’s not just the excess of pie & wine talking?”
“Nope,” She grinned. “That’s all me, love. You’ve got me so gone I wanna give you a baby and build you a damn crib from scratch.”
A shaky laugh escaped you. “God, you’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it.” Her fingers dipped lower, just enough to make your knees buckle.
You let out a quiet gasp, biting your lip hard. “Tash, my dad—”
“Is right outside,” She purred. “And you’re gonna stay put and quiet while I make you say yes to everything.”
She gently took ahold of your jaw and turned your face toward hers, lips already claiming yours in a searing kiss — her hands still tucked inside your shorts, slow and purposeful. She devoured you right there, against the sink, soft moans swallowed between kisses, until your hips rolled and your fingers clawed her shoulders, your whole body taut with the want she'd built all evening.
Outside, the fire crackled. Grandma Elise laughed at one of your dad’s dry jokes.
Inside, you came apart for Natasha — silently, breathlessly, pressed between her body and the scent of soap and sin.
And when she finally pulled back, she didn’t let go of you.
“Think about it,” She murmured, kissing your temple. “You, me, and a little one running wild on this ranch. I’d kill to see you like that.”
You weren’t sure if it was the orgasm, the wine, or the picture she painted — but the thought didn’t scare you. It made your chest ache.
And when you kissed her again, slower now, you realized something: you already belonged to her.
. . .
It had been three days since the dinner.
Three days since Natasha whispered about babies in your ear with her hand beneath your waistband, her mouth grazing your neck like a promise.
Three days since you laid in bed beside her in the quiet hours after, tangled in limbs and morning sunlight, and realized that maybe, for the first time in your life, the idea of forever didn’t scare you.
But before you could even dream of forever, you knew you had to face the man who raised you. The man who taught you to ride, to fight back when you were right, and to shut up when it mattered.
He was out by the chicken coop when you found him. Feeding the hens, straw hat shading his sun-weathered face, boots deep in the dirt. A cigarette hung from his lips, unlit — he hadn’t smoked it since your mother died, but he still liked the feel of it there.
“Dad?” You said, stepping just close enough that he glanced up from the feed bucket.
“Hey, kid,” He grunted. “You eat that leftover pie, or did Grandma sneak it home again?”
You gave a weak chuckle. “She took it. Of course.”
He nodded, going back to tossing seed like the world wasn’t about to shift on its axis.
You rubbed your hands together, nervous. “Can we talk for a sec?”
That got his attention. Slowly, he set the bucket down and turned to face you fully. His brow furrowed just a bit — not angry, just… aware.
“I’m listening.”
You took a breath then let it out.
“It’s about Natasha.”
His silence was telling. He didn’t nod, didn’t blink — but something in him stilled.
“She’s… not just a neighbor. Or a friend. We’ve been seeing each other for a while.”
“And by seeing,” He said, voice gravel-dry, “you mean…?”
“That I’m in love with her.”
His jaw ticked. His eyes didn’t leave yours.
He glanced away, toward the pasture, the breeze catching the brim of his hat. You stood still, heart thudding, waiting for something to fall apart — for the silence to stretch into disappointment.
But instead…
“I figured.”
Your breath hitched. “You… did?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been smiling more. Not just the polite kind. The real one. Like your mama used to.”
You blinked hard, warmth rising in your chest and eyes at once.
“I didn’t know when you were gonna tell me, but I figured you’d get there.”
You stepped forward, a little overwhelmed. “You’re okay with it?”
“Hell,” He muttered, tugging off his hat to rake a hand through his hair, “I ain’t some fool who thinks love looks one way. All I ever wanted was for you to find someone who’d ride through storms with you. Who wouldn’t leave when things got rough. And Romanoff ? She sticks.”
You laughed, more relieved than you could ever say. “Yeah. She does.”
He looked at you then, eyes a little softer than before. “You planning on telling Grandma?”
“One step at a time, old man,” You said, nudging his arm.
“Well,” He muttered, grabbing the bucket again, “when you do, better make sure you’ve got something stronger than sweet tea on hand. That woman’s sharper than a rattlesnake in July.”
You grinned. “So you’re not mad?”
“No, sweetheart, of course not.” He said, then paused. “But if she ever hurts you…”
“She won’t,” You cut in, serious. “I trust her.”
That seemed to be enough. He walked up to you and pulled you in his arms, the grip familiar and soothing.
“You know I love you, right? I only know what's best for you and I trust you're old enough to decide what's best for you.”
“I know. Thank you, Daddy.”
. . .
You found her on the porch swing just after sundown — boots kicked off, legs curled up, her flannel unbuttoned halfway over a black tank top. The sky behind her bled peach and rose, and the fireflies had just begun blinking into the dusk like scattered sparks.
Natasha looked up from her book when you stepped out. “You’re smiling.”
“I talked to my dad,” you said, closing the door behind you. “Told him about us.”
She sat up straighter, eyes searching yours. “And?”
You walked toward her, barefoot across warm wood. “He figured it out already. Said you make me smile the way my mama used to.”
Her expression softened, just a little — like something in her uncoiled.
You settled beside her on the swing, pulling your knees up as her arm slid easily around your back, fingers spreading over your hip like she was anchoring herself.
“I didn’t know how it’d go,” you admitted. “But he was calm. Real calm. Said he just wanted me happy.”
Natasha let out a breath you hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Your dad’s a good man.”
“He is.” You leaned into her. “But you’re a good woman.”
Natasha smirked. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”
You laughed softly, pressing your forehead to her jaw. “Mostly.”
Her lips brushed your temple. “So, how are we celebrating this little coming-out party?”
“Quietly,” you said, dragging your hand up the inside of her thigh, “just the two of us.”
The way her breath hitched wasn’t subtle.
You climbed into her lap, straddling her on the swing, your fingers running up the back of her neck and into her hair. Her hands found your waist like it was instinct — like she was made to hold you.
“You know,” you whispered, teasing her ear, “he said you stick.”
“Stick?” she repeated, amused.
“Yeah. That you ride through storms. Don’t leave when it gets hard.”
Her voice dropped to something low and smoky. “It always gets hard with you around.”
You laughed against her throat. “We’re supposed to be celebrating quietly.”
“Oh, I am quiet,” she said, hands sliding under your shirt, calloused palms dragging heat across your skin. “You’re the one who gets noisy.”
Your hips rocked just once against her, teasing, and her mouth found yours — slow and claiming and sure. No urgency. Just heat and sweetness and years of ache melting away into one soft, perfect kiss.
She pulled back just an inch, lips brushing yours. “I’m proud of you.” You blinked, surprised.
“For telling him,” she added, one hand cradling your jaw. “For letting me be seen. For us.”
You leaned in again, kissing her harder this time, until her hands were fisting the back of your shirt and you were both breathless.
“Let’s go inside,” you murmured, lips ghosting her cheek.
“Mm. We could,” she said, eyes glinting, “or I could take you right here on this swing.”
“You’re impossible,” you said, blushing and laughing all at once.
“And you like me this way.”
You kissed her again, grinning into it.
Because she was right. And for the first time in your life — with the stars rising above the fields and the air sweet with summer — it all felt right, too.
. . .
The porch creaked under Natasha’s boots as she stepped outside with two mugs of coffee. Sunlight was low and golden, catching the edges of the wood grain, the dust, the worn ridges of old family tools stacked by the side of the house.
Georges Langford sat on a rocking chair near the edge, his hat pulled low, gaze fixed out over the land like he’d been born to guard it.
“Thought you might want some,” she said, holding out one of the mugs.
He took it without looking at her right away. “Appreciate it.”
Natasha leaned against the porch railing beside him, quiet for a beat. She wasn’t always good at stillness around other people — but she’d learned that with your father, silence wasn’t something to rush. It was something to earn your way through.
They sat like that for a while. A soft breeze stirred. Somewhere out in the barn, the cows shifted.
“You work hard,” he said finally.
She glanced sideways. “I’m used to it.”
“You like it here?”
“I do.” Her voice was honest, low. “Peaceful. Good kind of quiet.”
He nodded. “That’s why I built this place the way I did. Thought maybe I’d scare the fast ones off.”
She let out a short, amused breath. “And did you?”
“Some.”
He looked at her then — not harsh, not unkind, but direct. Like a man who had carried the weight of a family and wasn’t about to hand pieces of it over without looking someone square in the eye.
“I don’t know everything about you,” he said.
She met his gaze. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But I know the way my daughter looks at you.” He sipped his coffee. “That ain’t nothing.”
A pause. The wind rustled the trees.
Natasha shifted slightly, straightening her shoulders. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”
He studied her.
“I mean it,” she added. “I’ve seen a lot. Done more than I probably should’ve. But she… she makes me want to stay.”
The man gave a quiet hum. “You’re not running from something, are you?”
“No.” She said it firmly. “I’ve already done enough of that.”
He nodded slowly. Looked back out over the fields.
“She’s my only daughter,” he said.
“I know.”
“I don’t care who she loves. But I care how she’s loved.”
Natasha swallowed, jaw ticking just slightly. “She’s loved safe. And full. And real.”
That made him go quiet.
She added, more softly, “I didn’t plan for this. But I’ll stand by her. Wherever this goes.”
He glanced at her again. “You ever think of settling? For real?”
Her mouth twitched. “Depends what you mean by ‘for real.’”
He raised a brow. “Do you want a family, Romanoff?”
She blinked. That hit a little deeper than she expected.
“I’ve thought about it,” she said carefully. “With her… it doesn’t seem so far away.”
A beat passed. He exhaled. “Alright.”
“Alright?”
“I can’t pretend I know everything about your past, and I won’t pretend it’s not hard for me, having my little girl in love with someone like you.” He smirked faintly. “But I see how she glows when you’re around. And how you soften when you look at her. So… yeah. Alright.”
Natasha stared at him, a little stunned.
“I appreciate that,” she said, genuinely.
He stood, stretching his back, and tipped his hat back just enough to meet her eyes again. “You hurt her, you’ll see how fast I stop being calm.”
She smiled. “Fair enough.”
Then, to her surprise, he reached out — not quite a handshake, but a squeeze to her shoulder. Solid. Approving.
“Come help me chop some wood before it gets too hot.”
She blinked. “You want me to—?”
“Consider it a trust exercise.”
Natasha laughed, taking off her flannel and rolling up her sleeves. “Alright, old man. Don’t slow me down.”
The sharp crack of splitting wood echoed through the open air, birds scattering up from the fence post as Natasha swung the axe again. Her shoulders gleamed with sweat under the midday sun, muscles flexing with every strike. Your father stood nearby, arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched.
“You weren’t kidding about not slowing down,” he muttered.
Natasha leaned back with a grin, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “You’re lucky I like you.”
He chuckled, nodding toward the stack. “You got rhythm. Must’ve done this before.”
“Not quite,” she said. “But I’ve broken a lot of things.”
That earned a raised brow. Natasha didn’t elaborate. She bent, picked up another log, and placed it on the stump.
“You ever think of taking her with you to where you’re from?” he asked, almost casually.
Natasha hesitated only a second before lifting the axe again.
A swing then a crack.
The wood split clean.
She exhaled, watching the pieces fall. “Yeah,” she said, voice lower, softer. “I have.”
“You think she’d want that?”
“I don’t know.” She set the axe aside, resting her hands on her hips. “But I want her to see it. The parts of me that still live there. The city wasn’t all noise and ghosts. It was… home, once.”
He eyed her curiously. “That life still part of you?”
“Always.” Natasha looked out toward the horizon. “But so is this place. This farm, this porch, her hands in the earth. I never thought those two things could exist in the same world. But now…”
She trailed off, lost for a second in thought.
He leaned on the fence, keeping quiet.
“I want to take her,” she continued after a beat. “Not forever. Just for a few days. Let her see the apartment I used to live in. The rooftop where I used to think about running. Let her walk down the same streets I did, but hold her hand this time.”
Georges didn’t answer right away.
Natasha added, more quietly, “I’d bring her back, of course. She belongs here. I just… I want her to know all of me. Not just the version that chops wood and drives the truck.”
“You think she don’t already?”
A faint smile. “She does. But I still want to give her the whole picture.”
Another beat of silence stretched between them, filled only by the rustling wind and the soft crackling of leaves.
“She’d follow you to hell and back, you know,” he said finally. “But just make sure you’re not trying to take her somewhere to run. She was raised with roots. She ain’t built for drifting.”
“I’m not running anymore,” Natasha said. “I want to take her because I finally have something worth bringing with me.”
That silenced him. And then — with the faintest twitch of approval — he nodded.
“Go clean up. I’ll take over from here.”
Natasha raised a brow. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
He just smirked.
She grabbed her flannel off the fence rail and made her way back toward the house. And as she crossed the dirt path toward the back porch, she saw her — You, hair in a loose braid, barefoot in cutoffs and an old tee, standing by the sink through the window, singing softly to yourself.
. . .
The crickets had started their nightly song as the sun dipped low behind the barn. Inside, the only light came from the soft glow of the kitchen lamp and the flickering from the fireplace they’d left burning low.
Natasha sat behind you on the couch, legs spread comfortably as you nestled between them. She was brushing her fingers lazily over the inside of your arm, chin resting lightly on your shoulder, the scent of lavender and earth clinging to her skin after a full day in the fields.
“You tired?” Natasha asked, lips brushing against her neck.
You only hummed. “Mm. Not with you doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you touch me like you don’t know you’re doing it.”
Natasha grinned and did it again, slower now, letting her fingers trail all the way to your wrist.
They stayed like that for a while — comfortable, quiet, until Natasha whispered, almost casually, “What would you think about the city?”
You shifted slightly. “The city?”
“Just for a few days.” Natasha’s voice was smooth but unhurried. “You and me. I’d show you around. Not the tourist stuff — the real parts. My places. My past.”
Youvleaned back enough to glance at her. “Your past, huh?”
Natasha gave her a crooked smile. “Only the parts that matter.”
You studied her face, reading the weight behind the offer — the invitation tucked inside it.
“I’d take you to my old neighborhood,” Natasha continued. “We'd grab coffee from that place with the terrible service but the best damn pastries. The streetlights there buzz like bees — it’s annoying as hell, but it’s home. Was, anyway.”
You turned fully to face her now, legs folding up on the couch. “You miss it?”
“Some days.” Natasha’s eyes softened. “But it’s not about missing it. It’s about wanting you to see it. I’ve seen so much of your world. Felt it. I want to share mine with you too. Just a few days. Just us.”
Your thumb brushed against the edge of Natasha’s jaw. “You really think I’d survive city traffic and overpriced coffee?”
“I’d protect you,” Natasha smirked. “Like a good little farm girl bodyguard.”
“You're my bodyguard now?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
You both laughed, the kind that curled under the skin like warmth. Then you rested your forehead against Natasha’s.
“I’d go,” You answered quietly.
Natasha blinked, eyes searching yours. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” You nodded. “But only if you promise to make fun of me every time I get excited over stupid city things.”
“I will mock you relentlessly.”
“And I get to see what you looked like before flannel and cowboy boots.”
Natasha grinned. “You’re not ready.”
You leaned in and kissed her — soft, deep, like sealing a promise with her lips.
And later, as you two climbed into bed, Natasha whispered, “Thank you,” just against her neck.
“For what?”
“For letting me have you — in every place I’ve ever been.”
summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.
genre : country!au, countryside life.
warnings : beefy!nat, top!nat, gp!nat, sub!reader, fluff included but mostly smut — let's say this chapter's just showing how nasty the two are.
words count : 4.7k || masterlist
an : i promise im not as freaky as this shot might be 🙈
𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three 𖦹 part four 𖦹
HORSES & ROMANCE :
— Every Inch Of Dawn
📍 Langford's Estate,
Clare Valley, Southern Australia
You stirred first.
Body aching in pleasant ways. A dull, stretched soreness that reminded you just how intense the night before had been.
Natasha was still asleep, lying on her stomach, one arm under the pillow and the other loosely draped over your waist. The blanket barely covered her, and the sun gave her shoulders a warm glow. Her back moved in slow, steady breaths, muscles relaxed, hair messily tumbling around her face.
She looked peaceful—something you didn’t think she let herself be often.
You let yourself watch her a little longer than you probably should’ve, committing the sight to memory of her here in your bed, your space.
You could still feel her on you—her mouth, her fingers, the way she had whispered your name like it was something sacred.
As you brushed the hair from her face, her lashes fluttered—lips parting into the hint of a smile.
“You watching me sleep?” She mumbled, voice low and scratchy.
“You snore,” You teased.
She opened one eye. “You’re lying.”
“Little bit.”
Natasha stretched, her body warm and heavy against yours. “Gonna put me to work today?”
“Thought about it,” You said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You owe me for eating the last of the pie yesterday at the fair.”
“You said I could have it.”
“You used that voice.”
She grinned lazily, then rolled on top of you, pinning you to the bed with nothing but her weight and that wicked smirk. “What voice?”
“That voice where I know I’m about to let you do whatever the hell you want.”
Cockily, she rose a brow. “You mean the one that gets me pie and laid?”
You laughed. Loudly. Honestly.
She kissed you quiet — slow and affectionate, not leading anywhere this time. Just there. Warm. Real.
Neither of you moved right away. There was no panic, no rush to explain, no awkward reaching for clothes. Just a long moment suspended in the quiet.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said after a while, her fingers brushing lightly along your hip under the sheet.
“I didn’t either,” You replied. “But I’m glad we did.”
Her brow arched faintly. “Yeah?”
You nodded, your voice soft. “Yeah.”
Natasha leaned in, brushing her lips over your bare shoulder—a small kiss, nothing demanding. Just acknowledgment, making you smile.
She exhaled, a shaky breath, and tucked her face against your neck, like she needed the anchor. You held her without speaking.
After a few minutes, her stomach let out a quiet growl.
You laughed softly, pulling back just enough to see her face. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” She muttered, eyes closing again.
“You stay here,” you said. “I’ll make coffee. And eggs if the hens liked me enough yesterday.”
She cracked a sleepy grin. “You’re kind of perfect, you know.”
You kissed her once more—light and lingering—before slipping out of bed, wrapping yourself in a worn flannel shirt. She watched you go, propping herself on one elbow, and thought of how lucky she was right in that moment.
You made it to the kitchen— barefoot, coffee in hand, standing in the kitchen with your hair a mess and your flannel slipping off one shoulder.
You heard her before you saw her — soft steps on the floorboards, followed by that husky voice that always managed to make you feel seen, even when you weren’t looking.
“Looks like the hens didn't appreciate you today.” She commented.
A soft hum, in agreement, came from your lips. “I was thinking toasts would do the drill instead.”
“Help yourself to the coffee.”
“I didn’t come for the coffee.” She murmured.
Her hand slid to your hip, the other brushing the hair from your shoulder. She bent down, lips grazing your neck, slow and deliberate. “I came for you.”
You didn’t stop her.
Didn’t want to.
The mug was forgotten somewhere on the counter as she kissed you — not rushed this time, not needy. Just full. Thorough. Like she was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the way you tasted first thing in the morning. Her hands found the hem of your flannel, sliding under it, dragging over bare skin with reverence.
Her picking you up with no warning made you gasp in surprise, then smile at yourself right after as she attached her lips back on yours —hands dropped over your sides— then it shifted.
Your smile turned into full giggles as she attacked you with kisses. Your lips, eyes, cheeks, neck, jaw—all while your bodies being glued to the other's.
“You always look like this in the morning?” The Russian asked. “Or is it just for me?”
“Depends. I'd do the honor to say that it's just for you.”
With a low hum while nipping your jaw, she added, “Remind me to never underestimate you again in bed.”
You raised a brow. “You underestimated me?”
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming now. “Just a little.”
You laughed softly, but your fingers stayed at her back, moving in slow strokes. “Do you regret it?” The question slipped out quieter than you meant it to.
Natasha stilled. Her eyes searched yours, serious now.
“No,” She said finally. “Not even close.”
You nodded, exhaling. “Good.”
She rested her forehead on yours, the edge of a smile tugging her lips as she pecked your lips repeatedly. “I liked waking up next to you.”
You smiled back, “I liked falling asleep next to you.”
The redhead's hands glided down to your thighs, fingers grazing over them in a soothing motion.
“You're sitting there, hot and all, and I hate to say that I'd have to leave soon.” She stated. “Got work to do.”
You nodded. “It's alright. I gotta check on Bramble, anyway. But you're not leaving without eating first.”
Of course, she wasn't. One thing she knew about your family and the constant time she'd spent with you — breakfast was priority here.
“How’s he, by the way?”
“Spooked by the gate slamming a day ago, but calmed down fast. That’s progress.”
“I’ve seen grown men recover slower.”
🪵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🪵
(Few days later.)
It had rained the night before, a steady, rhythmic downpour that soaked the soil and cooled the summer air. By morning, the clouds had scattered, leaving the fields glistening under soft light.
The barn on your property stood tall and weathered, its red paint faded by time and sun, and just beyond it, your horse was stuck in the mud. Again.
You stood ankle-deep in it, boots sinking into the thick mess as you muttered curses under your breath.
The rope tugged sharply in your hands as the mare resisted, stubborn as ever. You were halfway to cursing her ancestors when you heard a whistle — low, slow, and unmistakably amused.
Natasha leaned against your fence like she’d been summoned, sleeves rolled up, tank top sticking to her damp skin. She didn’t say anything right away. Just watched you with that crooked grin, arms folded across her chest, muscles flexing as if she wanted to remind you she was built like sin and salvation all at once.
“You look like you’re auditioning for a country song,” The redhead finally spoke up.
You shot her a glare. “Unless you’re offering to help, Romanoff, shut it.”
With deliberate slowness, she climbed over the fence, boots landing in the mud with a satisfying squelch. She came to your side, took the rope without a word, and gave one firm tug.
The mare moved forward with ease. You blinked.
Natasha tossed a smug glance your way. “What? She's got a thing for redheads.”
You snorted, “So does her owner.”
“Well,” She murmured, “Guess we have something in common.”
You looked away, hiding your smile but she saw it anyway.
By the time the two of you got the mare back in the stable, your jeans were a mess, and your hands were streaked with mud. Natasha wiped her palms on her thighs and gave the horse a soft pat before turning to you.
She helped you finish up without being asked — sweeping out the barn, fixing the bent gate hinge, and repairing a broken step on your porch.
The way she worked, methodical and focused, told you she wasn’t new to hard labor. But she never complained. She just moved beside you like it was natural.
Later, while fixing a loose hinge on the chicken coop, you caught her staring again. Not with heat, but with softness. Like she was trying to hold the moment in her palms.
“What?” You asked, hands on your hips.
She stepped closer, slipping behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.
“You’re dangerous,” She murmured into your ear.
“How’s that?”
“Because I could stay here,” The redhead whispered. “And forget who I was before.”
You turned in her arms, meeting her gaze. “Maybe that’s the point.”
🪵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🪵
The storm had passed, but the air hadn’t cooled.
It was thick, charged with something heavier than just humidity. You could feel it in the way Natasha looked at you across the dinner table — quiet, unreadable, but her eyes told a different story.
You were barefoot, wearing her flannel — nothing underneath. You’d slipped it on after your shower, thinking she wouldn’t notice.
She noticed.
“Stand up,” She said, voice low.
“Why?”
Natasha tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Because I said so. Come on.”
You rose slowly, your heart thudding as her chair scraped back against the floor. The second you reached hsr, she hooked her fingers into the hem of the shirt and lifted it just enough to see your bare skin beneath.
“Fuck,” She muttered, more to herself than to you.
You leaned into her with teasing smile. “Something wrong?”
She chuckled, “Yeah. I’m trying really hard to be a decent woman right now.”
In a swift mouvement, she gripped the back of your thighs and pulled you down on her lap, your bodies slamming together like you’d been craving it all day.
You let out a breathless moan as you landed right on her hard cock, her hands were everywhere — gripping, guiding, greedy.
“I dreamt about this,” She murmured against your throat. “Woke up hard and aching and mad because I wasn’t inside you.”
Her hand was already sliding beneath the shirt, finding your heated core. “You’re already wet, baby. You waited for me.”
Her fingers slipped inside your cunt with maddening ease, her palm pressing just right. Your body arched into hers as she whispered filth into your ear, every word soaked in desire and dominance.
“You like being ruined in your own kitchen?” She rasped, her fingers moving relentlessly inside of you. “Want me to fuck you on this counter with your legs wide open like you’re mine?”
“Please,” You gasped, barely holding on.
That did it.
She lifted you with ease, set you on the counter, and yanked the shirt wide open — not caring about buttons, not caring about anything except seeing you sprawled, flushed, trembling for her.
She didn’t waste time and dropped to her knees again, tongue dragging a slow, sinful line up your thigh before she reached your dripping heat, devouring you like she’d been starving.
You broke apart in seconds, hips jerking, hands tangled in her hair, voice lost to the walls and fields and the wide-open night outside.
And even after she stood, breathless and wild-eyed, she didn’t stop. She kissed you deep — claiming you — and lifted you off the counter.
“We’re not done,” She growled, carrying you down the hallway like you weighed nothing. “Not even close.”
Moments later sometime after midnight, the room smelled like sweat and skin and summer rain still lingering on the breeze.
Your legs were tangled with Natasha’s, her hand resting low on your stomach, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your bare skin. The sheets were kicked halfway down the bed. Her body was still half on top of you, heavy and warm — grounding.
You could feel the rise and fall of her chest. Steady. Safe.
“I didn’t mean for it to go like that,” She mumbled, lips brushing your temple.
You turned your head, eyes still hazy. “You didn’t like it?”
The redhead huffed a laugh. “I loved it. But I meant… I wasn’t planning on losing my mind the second I saw you in my shirt.”
You smiled. “Then it’s my fault.”
She shifted onto her side, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek. “It’s your fault I’ve been walking around all week trying to be respectful, meanwhile thinking about bending you over every fence on this damn property.”
Oh.
You laughed softly while she leaned in again, this time slower, her kiss gentle. Not hungry. Not desperate. Just soft.
“I like how quiet it is here,” She whispered. “But I like you more.”
You tucked your face into her neck, smiling against her skin. “You’re gonna make me fall for you.”
Natasha held you tighter. “Too late. Already fallen.”
🪵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🪵
The day hadn't even ended and Natasha's mind was running wild with thoughts of you.
It started with the damn shorts.
You’d worn them on purpose — cut-off denim that barely passed for legal and a tied-up flannel that left very little to the imagination.
You knew exactly what you were doing when you bent over in front of the fence (said fence she'd mentioned just last night), pretending to check the wire right across from where Nat worked, arching your back just enough.
The sun was hot. The sky was cloudless. And you could feel Natasha’s gaze sear into you from halfway across the field.
You'd thought it was a great idea to toy with her today, not even bothering to stop when she was in the presence of your dad.
You were always passing around, teasing, all acting innocent.
You didn’t have to look to know she was staring. You felt it like pressure on your skin.
“You’re really testing me, sweetheart,” Her voice came from behind — low, strained, full of warning, making you smirk.
As you straightened, slow, cocky, to face her, you feigned pure innocence. “I’m just working.”
Natasha didn’t buy it for a second.
The second you turned around, she was there, grabbing your hips, walking you backward until your back hit the wood of the fence with a dull thud. Her breath was hot, heavy, and furious against your cheek.
“You think I didn’t notice?” she growled. “Those shorts, that shirt. Bending over like that. What are you trying to do to me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Wrong move.
Her hand shot to your throat — not squeezing, just holding. Commanding. The other slipped under the hem of your shorts, fingers pressing into the soft, warm skin of your ass.
“Nat—”
She silenced you with a kiss that left no room for teasing — open-mouthed, tongue, teeth, all hunger and pent-up frustration. She kissed like she was claiming territory, biting at your bottom lip as her fingers pushed past the denim, past your underwear, past your composure.
“You get off on this?” She rasped, voice rough in your ear as you panted, a pleased grin on your lips. “Getting me worked up in the open, where anyone could see?”
“You mentioned taking me over the fence some days ago.” You replied, already breathless, as she fiddled with the zipper of her pants. “I'm just helping your wish to come true.”
She tugged your shorts down just enough, lifting one of your legs to hook around her hip. The fence creaked behind you, the wood rough at your back. But you barely noticed — not with the way she slid her dick inside you in one motion, slow and thick, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your thigh tight enough to bruise.
“Fuck,” Natasha groaned, thrusting deep. “So wet. Were you waiting for this?”
You clawed at her shoulders, gasping as each roll of her hips sent heat spiraling through your body.
“For what do you think earlier's show was ?”
She was relentless — thrusting hard enough to shake the boards, grounding you with her strength, her body, her voice.
“You tease me like that again,” She hissed as she pounded hard into you , “and I’ll take you right here every time.”
Her pace quickened, the slap of skin against skin muffled only by your moans and the wind. It was messy. Hot. So damn risky.
And you were addicted.
She pulled out of you and before you could even have time to complain, you were turned around, bent over and her cock was back inside of you.
If it weren't for her hands holding your hips tightly, you would've been face down the grass by now due to your knees that'd almost gave up.
“Fuck, yes, j-just like that..”
You moaned, your hands gripping the border of the fence to anchor yourself. Natasha took you, just like you wanted.
You came with a sob, body trembling as she drove you through it, holding you tight, whispering dirty promises into your ear even as she lost herself in you.
When she finally stilled, still inside you, breathing hard against your neck.
“Think the whole damn field heard us,” She muttered, grinning as she kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw.
“Serves you right,” You whispered back, teasing. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in your pants.”
Her teeth sank lightly into your shoulder, and you yelped.
She laughed. A real, bright, completely unguarded laugh.
But then — a voice cut through the air like a crack of thunder.
“Y/N! You out there, darlin’?”
It was your father.
Natasha’s body locked against yours like stone, her eyes wide. You slapped a hand over your mouth, biting back a curse.
“In the back pasture, fixing the gate!” you shouted, trying to sound casual, like you hadn’t just been railed against a wooden fence by your dad's dangerously hot co-worker.
The Russian, still very much inside you moments ago, looked like she was reconsidering every life decision that had brought her to this exact moment.
Boots crunched in the distance — your father’s. Getting closer.
You shoved at Natasha’s chest. “Go. Go!”
She practically dove into the nearest row of tall grass, tucking herself out of sight behind the shed. You yanked your shorts up in record time, yelping as the zipper caught your sensitive skin.
Your father appeared just over the ridge. “You okay?”
You forced a smile, “Yeah! Gate’s a little stubborn.”
He eyed you. “Your face’s all red.”
“Hot out,” You blurted.
He narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Well, come on back soon. We’re firing up the grill.”
“Be right there.”
He turned and walked away with a nod.
You waited until his footsteps were gone before the tall grass rustled — Natasha emerging like a gorgeous fox. Her shirt was unbuttoned, face smug.
“That was close,” She murmured.
You glared at her. “I hate you.”
She smirked, pulling you back into her arms. “No, you don’t.”
She kissed you again — sweet, lazy, full of trouble.
And you let her, even as you muttered, “You owe me so bad.”
“Good,” Nat whispered against your lips. “’Cause I was planning on working up an appetite before dinner anyway.”
🪵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🪵
The sun was dipping low, casting the ranch in gold as smoke curled lazily up from the grill. Your dad was manning it like it was a battlefield, spatula in hand, cowboy hat slightly askew.
Your grandmother had set out the side dishes on the porch table, chatting with your aunt while your younger cousins chased each other barefoot across the grass.
And then there was Natasha — washed, changed, and acting like she hadn’t just had you gasping against a fence an hour ago. Her hair was damp from a quick shower, slicked back, revealing cheekbones sharp enough to cut. She wore worn jeans and a black tank top that clung just right, and when she smiled politely at your mom, you could almost believe she was innocent.
Almost.
You were standing beside the lemonade table when she sidled up next to you. Her hand brushed yours — deliberately, slow — and she didn’t look at you when she said, “Still sore?”
You choked on your drink.
Natasha chuckled under her breath and took a sip of her sweet tea like she hadn’t just whispered sin. Your aunt, Diane, turned toward the sound and smiled. “Natasha, how do you like ranch life so far?”
Nat didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve never been more… satisfied.”
Your face burned.
Your dad called everyone over for burgers, and Natasha stepped in like she’d always belonged, passing plates, laughing at your uncle Pete’s jokes, helping your little cousin tie her shoelaces. But every time she looked at you — that spark in her eye, the ghost of a smirk — it was a silent, unspoken promise: I’m not done with you yet.
Later, after dishes were cleared and the sky turned indigo, she tugged you by the hand toward the barn with a whispered, “Come on.”
The barn was quiet, cloaked in shadows and the warm hush of summer night.
The soft glow of old fairy lights strung above the rafters cast golden patterns over everything — the hay bales, the tools, the dust motes swirling in still air.
You didn’t even get a word out before Natasha pushed you gently against the barn door and kissed you like she hadn’t had her fill — like the entire day had just been foreplay for this.
Her hands were rough with callouses now —weeks on the ranch had seen to that— and they gripped your sides.
Her mouth moved from yours to your neck, then down, lips dragging across your collarbone with intent.
“Slow down, I'm not going anywhere, you know?” You chuckled.
“Thought about this all through dinner,” She murmured, pulling your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. “You, in that tight little tank top. Acting like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”
“And you, pretending to be sweet in front of my family. You’re evil.”
She grinned against your stomach. “You liked it.”
She kissed you then — not gentle, but needy. Desperate. All tongue and teeth and hands that couldn’t stay still. Your shirt was yanked up and over your head, tossed somewhere into the shadows, and her mouth was on your collarbone, your chest, biting just enough to make you shiver.
You moaned as her hand slid past the waistband of your underwear, finding heat and slick with a confident ease that made your knees weak.
“F-fuck…”
“I’ve got you,” she said low, her voice pure gravel, pure promise.
She turned you then, guiding you toward the nearest hay bale, and before you could fully process it, you were bent over it, fingers gripping the edge. Her body was flush against yours, and her other hand was already working open her belt, her breath hot against your neck.
“You sure you can stay quiet, sweetheart?” she whispered.
You nodded, barely.
Then she slid her dick into you — slow, sure, deep.
You bit your lip so hard it almost bled, a sharp cry caught in your throat. Her hands gripped your hips, anchoring you to her, guiding the rhythm. She rocked into you, the angle perfect, dragging pleasure through you in waves.
The sounds were obscene — wet, gasping, skin on skin — muffled only slightly by the barn’s thick walls.
She leaned over you, lips brushing your ear. “Still wanna tease me tomorrow? Wear those little shorts again?”
You whimpered, trembling under her.
She grinned, nipping your earlobe. “Didn’t think so.”
Her pace didn’t falter. She thrust deeper, rougher, but gentle, until you were bracing hard against the hay, your body a mess of sensation, clenching around her.
When you came after she did, it hit fast — a quake that left you breathless and shaking. She held you through it, still moving, coaxing every last wave out of you until you collapsed forward with a groan.
Natasha kissed your shoulder, then your neck, slowing down only after she’d chased her own high with a soft, broken growl against your skin.
You both stayed there for a moment — pressed together, panting, tangled up in sweat and heat and everything unsaid.
“Feel better?” You asked with a dazed smile.
She chuckled, pulling you close, her voice a velvet rasp. “You’ve got no idea.”
🪵 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 🪵
You should’ve moved. You knew you should’ve moved — back to the house, to a bed, to the rest of the world waiting outside that old barn. But Natasha’s hand was drawing lazy circles on your lower back, her bare thigh tangled between yours, and you didn’t want to go anywhere.
Her voice broke the quiet, low and satisfied. “How do you always manage to look this good, even after i’ve wrecked you?”
You smirked, eyes fluttering shut as you nuzzled into her collarbone. “Modest this morning, aren’t we?”
She kissed your temple, lips grazing tenderly across your hairline. “I’m not wrong.”
“No,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along the edge of her ribs, “but if you keep talking like that, I’m never getting off this haystack.”
“That’s the plan.”
Natasha shifted, rolling you onto your back again with that effortless strength of hers. She leaned over you, her body warm and solid, her eyes dark but soft. She looked at you like she’d been starving and had finally been fed — but still wanted another bite.
"Slept nice?"
“I don’t think I've ever really slept,” You murmured, your voice low, teasing. “Someone kept me busy.”
Natasha chuckled, low and smug, her hand sliding over your waist, fingertips brushing a bruise she’d left near your hip. “You kept moaning my name like it was the only word you knew. You think I could sleep through that?”
You blushed, but you didn’t pull away—eyes tracing the mess of red hair, the way the morning sun lit her skin in amber. She looked devastatingly good like this — rumpled, content, still hungry in her gaze.
“You’re not sore?” You asked, quirking a brow.
The Russian smirked, “Baby, I can handle a few rounds in the hay.”
You rolled your eyes and laughed, then winced slightly as you moved. “God, we really didn’t stop.”
“Nope.” She stretched a little, groaning, then leaned down and kissed the inside of your thigh. “Not my fault you’re irresistible in denim shorts and mouthy comebacks.”
You tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging her closer. “We should probably go inside before someone finds us out here.”
“I want to see you again,” she said, voice rougher now, “feel you again. Slow this time. We’ve got time now, don’t we?”
Your breath hitched. “I thought you wanted peace and quiet on this farm.”
Her lips ghosted over your throat as she leaned back up. “I’ve got peace. You’re the quiet I like.”
Your heart did something traitorous then — flipped, full, needy. But there wasn’t time to process it, because her mouth was on your chest again, kissing every bruise she left the night before like a silent apology — or maybe a vow.
And then she sank down your body, slow and reverent. No teasing this time. No need. Just the heat of her breath against your thigh, her hands holding you like you were something sacred.
You arched as her tongue found you, already pulsing and tender, but eager for her again. Her name spilled from your mouth like prayer. She licked you slow, deep, thorough — drawing it out, savoring it, like she was determined to memorize every sound you made under her.
You came undone again, this time with a whimper and your fingers tugging tight in her hair. And even as you trembled, even as your vision blurred, she didn’t stop — didn’t let go — only kissed her way back up your body, wrapping herself around you again.
“I could die happy right here,” She whispered into your neck.
“Not yet,” You murmured, dazed. “I’m not done with you.”
She laughed then, low and rough and so turned on. “Then don’t be, baby.”
And the barn stayed quiet — except for the sounds only the two of you made, as the sun climbed higher, and morning became something entirely your own.
summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.
genre : country!au, wlw, countryside life.
warnings : smut, beefy!nat, top!nat, sub!reader, teasing, flirting, age-gap (r is 24 and nat is 32).
words count : 4.3k || masterlist
an : might seem boring in the begining but I promise, it's worth your while. smut is down below :)
𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three 𖦹 part four 𖦹
HORSES & ROMANCE :
— The Begining Of Belonging
📍Langford Ranch House
Clare Valley, Southern Australia
The Langford house glowed like a storybook as the sun dipped behind the hills, warm light spilling from the windows and casting long, golden rays across the wraparound porch. It was a wide, two-story structure with a green tin roof and paint that had peeled in a few places, but that only added to its charm. The scent of rosemary, garlic, and warm bread drifted through the evening air.
Natasha stood at the edge of the gravel path, a little too aware of how quiet her boots sounded on the stones. She’d changed into clean jeans and a dark linen shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal her forearms. Her hair was pulled back—not tightly, but not entirely relaxed either.
The long table on the porch was already set. Dishes lined the middle—roasted vegetables from the garden, baked lasagna steaming in the center, bowls of salad tossed with lemon vinaigrette. There was a pitcher of red wine and glasses already half full.
“Come in, come in. Hope you’re hungry.”
“I am,” Natasha admitted. “It smells incredible.”
Georges was seated at the head, napkin over his knee, already halfway through a story about the time your cousin fell into the irrigation ditch trying to impress a girl. Across from him was your grandmother, Elise, eyes sharp but kind, wearing an apron and sipping ginger beer.
“Ah! Natasha,” She greeted. “There’s a seat right there by Y/N. Don’t be shy.”
And then there was you.
Seated sideways in a wooden chair, wine glass loose in hand. The artificial lights struck your profile, catching your cheekbone and the faint tan line at your collar.
Natasha offered a small, respectful smile and took the seat beside you.
You looked up as she stepped onto the porch, a faint smile on your lips. “Glad you made it,”
“I said I might,” Natasha replied, walking over and taking the seat. “Didn’t say I’d behave.”
You laughed softly. “Good. It’d be boring if you did.”
“Smells incredible,” she said to your grandmother.
“That’s because I cook with actual skill,” Elise declared. “Not like Georges—he burns toast.”
“Only once,” Your father protested.
Plates clinked. Elise set down a tray of garlic-stuffed roast chicken and roasted pumpkin slices, then waved off any offers to help. Georges poured the wine—dark red, earthy, bold—and slid Natasha a glass without question.
“Clare Valley Shiraz. One of ours,” he said proudly.
She took a sip, letting it settle on her tongue. “Smooth. But not soft.”
Georges grinned. “Like the women in this family.”
Dinner rolled on with the kind of ease only old families could master—jokes with no setup, teasing that didn’t sting, and silences that felt comfortable. Elise recounted a neighbor’s cow escaping again.
And Natasha? She watched. She listened. She responded when spoken to, asked just enough questions, and found herself slowly thawing. The porch felt lived-in, like people belonged here.
So did you.
Your laughter was real and heartwarming. You filled Natasha's plate without asking and nudged a breadbasket her way. Once or twice, your knee brushed hers under the table—not accidentally—but you didn’t make a show of it either.
Halfway through the meal, Elise nudged Natasha with a grin. “So. What brings you out here from the big world? Georges says it's work, but a little bird tells me it's a little more.”
Natasha smiled politely. “Needed some air. A little quiet. Time away.”
“Running from someone?” Your dad teased.
“Grams, tell your kid he’s got no filter,” You muttered behind the rim of your glass.
“Running toward something,” Natasha answered, cool and unbothered. She glanced at you. “Maybe.”
There was a brief hush. Then Georges gave a low whistle. “Well, damn. That’s poetic.”
You laughed under your breath. Natasha didn’t look away.
As the stars began to crowd the sky, and the last of the dishes were cleared, Elise brought out a dessert she called "apple slab"—warm pastry crust with cinnamon and vanilla ice cream melting into every corner. Natasha tried it. She closed her eyes briefly.
Georges leaned toward her halfway through. “Told you—better company than you expected, huh?”
She nodded. “You weren’t wrong.”
The conversation shifted to crops and winter prep, and then to you—specifically, the time you tried to tame a wild filly at sixteen.
“She broke her wrist but refused to go to the hospital,” your grandmother told Natasha with a shake of her head. “Said she didn’t need a doctor, just duct tape and whiskey.”
Natasha looked over at you, one brow lifted, not surprised but interested. “Really?”
You shrugged, grinning around a bite of bread. “I was stubborn.”
“Was?” Your dad muttered.
You kicked his boot under the table.
As the stars began to pierce through the fading sky, conversation softened. The wine was nearly gone. Crickets started up in the distance, and the vineyard glowed faintly beneath the last lavender light.
Your grandmother excused herself first, and Georges followed shortly after with a promise to check the fencing in the morning.
You stayed. Natasha did too.
There was quiet between you now, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just the gentle hush of nighttime settling over land that had worked all day.
You glanced sideways at her. “You survived Langford dinner.”
“Barely.” Her voice was dry, but her eyes held warmth. “You all talk like you’ve known each other for centuries.”
“We practically have.” You stretched your legs under the table. “That’s what happens when you grow up where everyone knows your middle name, what age you first rode a bike, and how many times you cried watching The Lion King.”
“Twice?”
You laughed. “Four. Don’t judge me.”
Natasha smirked, then leaned back in her chair, her arms loose over the sides. “It’s nice. The way your family is. The way you are here.”
You studied her then—the way she relaxed just slightly when she wasn’t looking.
“You’re welcome to come by again,” You said casually. “We don’t usually bite.”
She looked at you, serious now. “And if I stay too long?”
You tilted your head. “Then you might start feeling like you belong.”
For a moment, you both just looked at each other. The stars overhead blinked into the dark sky like promises, and somewhere in the distance, Alba let out a quiet, contented whinny.
🍀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🍀
6:12AM. A cool mist hugged the vineyards like a ghost clinging to memory, curling low around the vines and bleeding into the open pastures.
Dew clung to every blade of grass, and the air still carried the chill of night, crisp enough to cut through the fabric of Natasha’s hoodie.
She wasn’t usually awake this early—not without cause—but something about the quiet of the ranch had tugged her from sleep before the world stirred.
She hadn’t even meant to go walking. She’d only stepped outside the house for air. And then the horizon broke into a slow bloom of amber light, and she just kept moving, boots crunching softly along a gravel path that curved away from the vineyard and toward the back paddocks.
Then she heard it—
A sharp exhale, followed by the pounding of hooves.
It wasn’t Alba.
The redhead crept closer, careful not to announce herself. She moved through a break in the fence, stepping behind a wooden post and peering through the clearing ahead.
You were in the ring.
Not the manicured one near the barn where children learned to ride—but the rough, wide training corral on the edge of the property. It was worn in by years of sun and sweat. Just dirt, wind, tension and you.
The horse in the ring was beautiful and wild. A deep russet coat and black mane, flaring nostrils and rolling muscles as it snorted and pawed the dirt. Its eyes were wide with resistance, its back arched in refusal.
Natasha didn’t move. She watched.
You held the rope with just enough slack to give it trust. You didn’t force contact, just stepped slowly, deliberately, your boots quiet in the dust.
“There you go,” You whispered— warm, low, and calm. “Not here to hurt you.”
The horse didn’t believe you. Not yet.
It darted to the side, testing you. You turned with it, gentle but firm, keeping distance without surrendering authority.
Nat realized what she was watching wasn’t about breaking. It was about respect.
“You’re not a prisoner,” you murmured. “You’re just scared.”
There was something heavy in the way you said it—like you weren’t just talking to the animal.
The stallion stopped. Just for a second. His head tilted, ears flicking. That was enough for a first.
He took a single step forward. You didn’t move. Came another step before he then exhaled—a long, rattling breath that shook tension from his shoulders.
You dropped your gaze, lowering yourself slightly, shifting into a crouch. Still no pressure. Still no force.
And then, miraculously, impossibly, the horse approached.
Natasha found herself holding her own breath.
When the horse finally bumped his nose against your shoulder, your hand lifted—light, slow—and you rested it against his neck.
“Nice one, big guy,” You smiled. “You’re alright now.”
Only then did Natasha move. A quiet step back. She didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to break whatever sacred moment she’d just witnessed.
But you had already known she was there.
You turned your head, still stroking the horse, and caught her eyes through the rising light. There was no surprise in your expression. Just calm.
“You always spy on people before coffee?” You questioned with an expectant raised brow.
The Russian gave a faint smile, stepping forward now that she’d been caught. “Only when the show’s worth it.”
You chuckled, brushing your hair off your face. “That was Bramble. He’s a rescue. Nobody’s been able to get close to him for months.”
“He trusts you.”
“Not trust. Not yet. Just curiosity and a little relief.” You glanced back at the horse, who now stood beside you, tethered by choice instead of fear. “That’s a start.”
Natasha nodded, eyes still on you. “You’re good at this.”
“With horses?”
“At being patient with things that bolt.”
There was a silence between you that hummed with more than early morning wind.
You didn’t break it. You didn’t flirt or tease. You just looked at her—really looked—and gave the barest nod.
“Come by later,” you said, stepping toward the gate. “If you want.”
🍀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🍀
Natasha spent hours thinking about earlier's moment with you.
“Come by later,” — Not an invitation, but permission.
She came by around late afternoon. You were exactly where she expected to find you—behind the barn, near the tack shed, rinsing off a saddle with a garden hose. You spent time together — repainted rooster's fences because you had a design idea.
You snorted softly and tossed her a clean towel. “Make yourself useful.”
She caught it one-handed. “You always this bossy?”
“You always this agreeable?”
The redhead tilted her head in consideration. “Only when I’m interested.”
Your gaze flicked toward her then, unreadable for a beat too long. But whatever you were thinking, you didn’t say it.
Later on, you motioned toward the hay bales stacked under the old oak tree you used to play by when you were younger. “Come on. I’ve got ten minutes before I have to check the perimeter fence.”
She followed you there, the sun warming her back as you both sat. From here, the land seemed to stretch forever—golden and open, scattered with horses and silence.
You didn’t fill it with small talk. Neither did she. You both just sat. The peace of it settled slowly, like dust after a storm.
“You really love this place,” Natasha said after a while.
You nodded, still looking at the view. “It’s not just home. It’s... legacy. My father probably told you already but his great-grandfather built the first stable. He and my mom added the vineyard. My sisters ran off, but I stayed. Someone had to.”
“That sounds like weight.”
“It is.” You glanced at her then. “But it’s the kind I can carry.”
She nodded, understanding more than she said.
🍀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🍀
The next few days passed in a slow, golden rhythm.
The Russian spent most of it unpacking, fixing the back gate, replacing floorboards in the living room or simply working with your dad.
She worked without a shirt most afternoons —the heat was relentless— and she noticed the way you passed by more often now. Always with an excuse. Returning a borrowed drill she hadn’t lent you. Asking if she needed help setting up a chicken coop she hadn’t even built yet. Always smiling. Always wearing shorts that made Natasha seriously consider whether peaceful living was all it was cracked up to be.
You were beautiful, that wasn't ignored by anyone but it was unnerving, how irresistible you could be. In some ways, she felt she wasn't supposed to look and think about you in the way she did but she just couldn't help herself.
She was only human after all.
From your side, you didn't care. You felt attracted to her and you weren't going to lie to yourself. Your father never had a problem with whoever you dated, as long as you were happy he didn't mind it.
You and Nat were both adults, so if anyone had a serious say in whatever that was starting to bloom between the two of you— it was only Nat and
The sun was beginning to dip when the fair lights flickered to life, warm and golden, strung between trees like fireflies. The annual Cherry Hollow Harvest Fair sprawled across the town’s open field—tents pitched, hay bales arranged like benches, the smell of roasted corn, fried dough, and sweet cider wafting through the cool autumn air.
Kids ran barefoot over the grass, their laughter high and wild. Folk music drifted from a wooden stage where a band played fiddles and banjos. People from all around the county came for this night. It wasn’t just tradition—it was home.
And Natasha Romanoff? She wasn’t sure what she was doing here.
Georges had insisted. “It’s tradition,” he’d said, patting her shoulder like she was family now. “Everyone goes. You’ll like it.”
So she’d come. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a fitted olive-green shirt.
She spotted Georges near the cider stand, chatting with the mayor and three other men who looked like they'd been born wearing cowboy hats. He waved when he saw her, but didn't call her over. She appreciated that—he let her move at her own pace.
Then she saw you.
Across the fairground, in a sage green denim jumpsuit that stopped by your thighs, hugging them perfectly with the top buttons open to tease with your cleavage hair pulled up with a white clip that matched your boots.
You had a paper cup in one hand and your other resting casually on your hip as you spoke to a woman selling apple pies. You laughed at something, head tilted back slightly in that unguarded way Natasha was starting to recognize.
You were a different version of yourself here—looser, brighter.
And she liked it. Maybe too much.
You noticed her after a moment, your smile lingering as your eyes locked. Then you tilted your head subtly, like an invitation: Come over.
Natasha made her way through the crowd slowly, absorbing the details: children with sticky faces, old men playing horseshoes, the way the stars were beginning to bloom in the sky.
When she reached you, your gaze ran down her frame—not in a way that was obvious, but in a way that landed.
“You clean up alright,” You said, sipping from your cup. “Not bad for a city girl.”
“Not bad for someone who just learned what ‘cow patty bingo’ is,” Natasha replied, glancing over at the fenced square in the grass that was... exactly what it sounded like.
You laughed, fully this time, and offered her your drink. “Spiced cider. Try it.”
She hesitated just long enough to make it noticeable. Then took a sip.
You watched her the entire time.
“Sweet,” she said.
“Like the fair.”
“Is that what you are?” Natasha asked, eyes steady. “Sweet?”
You smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Before either of you could push the moment further, a loud clang sounded near the mechanical bull arena and someone called your name. It was the ranch hand, Micah, gesturing toward the prize booth.
“I promised to judge the pie contest,” you said with a sigh. “Small-town royalty obligations.”
Natasha lifted a brow. “You’re a judge and a competitor?”
You gave her a wicked grin. “No one said I had to play fair.”
As you moved away, Natasha’s eyes followed you through the crowd. She wasn’t used to wanting moments to last longer. But with you, they always ended too fast.
She wandered a little after that—tried a caramel apple, watched kids dance barefoot under the fairy lights, even listened to Georges tell an elaborate story about winning the chili cook-off in '98.
But when the music shifted—slower now, softer—Natasha looked for you again.
She found you leaning against the fence near the bonfire, watching the flames. Your blouse glowed orange in the firelight, your face half-shadowed, thoughtful.
She came up beside you quietly.
“You come here every year?” she asked.
You nodded. “Every year since I was five. I’ve worked every booth. Played every game. First kiss was behind that pie stand.”
Natasha smiled faintly. “That sound like a good memory or a bad one?”
“Sticky,” you said. “She had frosting on her lips.”
That surprised a quiet laugh out of her. You turned toward her slightly, and for a beat, neither of you said a word.
Just firelight.
The smell of smoke.
The unspoken want hanging between you.
“You staying long?” you asked, voice lower.
“I might,” she said. “Haven’t decided.”
You nodded. “Well. This place grows on you. Just watch out—it makes it harder to leave.”
“I’m starting to see that.”
Someone called your name again.
You exhaled, almost reluctant. “I should—”
“I know.”
You hesitated. “Wanna walk me home later, maybe?”
Natasha didn’t answer right away. She just looked at you, the corner of her mouth lifting.
“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”
And just like that, something shifted.
Not loud. Not sudden.
But real.
The kind of shift you feel in your chest before your mind can catch up.
🍀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🍀
The fair had mostly dimmed by the time the music ended. Booths began to close, vendors packed up pies and preserves, and the chatter faded into the quiet hum of crickets and wind in the trees.
Natasha waited near the edge of the bonfire crowd, hands tucked into the pockets of her denim jacket, eyes scanning for you.
You emerged through the fading glow, brushing hay from your jeans, your cheeks still flushed from laughter and cider. The warmth of the evening was still on your skin, but the night was cooling fast, and you’d slipped into an old cream-colored cardigan that made you look even more like home.
“Ready?” You asked, eyes finding hers in the dark.
Natasha just nodded.
You didn’t speak at first, the two of you walking side by side down the gravel path that led out of town and back toward the ranch. There were no streetlights—just moonlight, stars, and the occasional crunch of gravel under your boots.
“I usually drive to the fair,” You said eventually. “But walking feels better tonight.”
The redhead glanced at you, head tilted and a faint smirk. “You always ask people to walk you home, or am I special?”
You smirked, playing her game from earlier. “Only to the ones I don’t want to leave too quickly.”
She let that sit for a moment. Then, softly: “I can see why you stayed here. This town, your family… it’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
Natasha shrugged. “Something quieter. Less alive.”
You smiled at that. “It’s a stubborn kind of place. It grows wild and deep. You can’t just skim the surface.”
Natasha hummed. “No. I guess not.”
You passed the vineyard fence. The moonlight painted rows of vines silver. In the distance, the faint outline of the ranch house stood against the night sky, warm light glowing from the porch.
“You tired?” You asked, voice barely above the breeze.
“Not really.”
You slowed. “Wanna come in?”
Natasha’s pause wasn’t long.
“I do.”
Inside, the house was quiet— Ace, your golden retriever is probably asleep. You kicked off your boots, set your keys in the bowl by the door. Natasha followed you into the kitchen where the smell of cinnamon still lingered from the pies you'd baked earlier to offer at the fair.
"Water?" You offered.
She nodded. You poured two glasses.
She didn't sit. Neither did you. You stood at the kitchen counter, sipping slowly, like the silence had something to say if you just let it stretch long enough.
And then, softly, she set her glass down.
"Why'd you really ask me to walk you home?"
Your answer was quiet, honest. "Because I wanted to be alone with you. Not in the barn. Not with my dad around. Just... here."
Natasha stepped closer. "Why?"
Eyes flicked to hers, holding steady. "Because I've been trying not to want this since the second I saw you."
"That makes two of us."
Her hand reached up slowly-giving you time to stop her-and brushed your cheek. You didn't pull back. You leaned in.
The first kiss wasn't slow. It wasn't hesitant. It was earned. Built on days of glances, tension, heat, and restraint. It came with a soft sound from your throat as her mouth met yours, full and open and hungry.
You stepped back against the counter as her hand slid to your waist, anchoring you.
You kissed her like you'd been holding back a storm. She kissed you like she was finally letting go of one.
When you broke apart, breathless, foreheads pressed together, you whispered, "This isn't a mistake, is it?"
Natasha's eyes searched yours. "Not even close."
You kissed again-this time slower, deeper, less urgent but more intentional. Her hands rested at your hips, yours slid beneath her jacket, fingers grazing warm cotton and skin.
Still kissing, you led her down the hallway with unspoken understanding. The bedroom door opened easily beneath your palm.
Inside - moonlight across the bed. A soft creak of floorboards. Breath and heartbeats. Clothes shed slowly. A laugh when her jacket snagged on your elbow.
Your mouths met again in the low light of your bedroom, this time with but the hush of the night. Your fingers finding the hem of her blouse and slipping underneath, grazing the warm skin of her toned stomach.
She let you lift it, arms rising wordlessly as you peeled the shirt over her head and dropped it aside. Her skin was soft beneath your hands-lean muscle, warm breath, and something tightly coiled beneath the surface. But it was her eyes that held you there-fixed on yours, careful, burning.
"Tell me if you want to stop," Uou whispered, even though every part of you ached to go further, eyes fixated on her body before returning to her eyes.
"I don't," She said, voice husky, fingers brushing down your spine. "Not tonight."
Her hands moved to the buttons of your jumpsuit, undoing them one by one with a kind of quiet focus. You watched her as she worked-how gentle she was, how deliberate. She wasn't trying to rush this. She wanted to feel it. All of it.
When her mouth touched your shoulder, your breath caught. Her lips traced a path from your collarbone down, tasting skin like she was learning you. And you let her, pressing closer, your hands tangling in her hair as she kissed lower.
The sheets are cool against your back as she hovered over you, her weight braced on one elbow, the other hand brushing lightly down your bare side.
She kissed you slowly-mouth warm, lips soft and deep, tongue teasing yours in a rhythm that had your heart pounding.
"You drive me insane, you know that?" She murmured against your lips.
"Good," You breathed, kissing her again. "I intend to keep it that way."
More clothes vanished in between kisses and laughter, until there was nothing but skin and need and the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.
Natasha trailed her fingers down your stomach, eyes watching your face for every flicker of response. When her touch found you, you gasped-hips arching, breath hitching as she moved with precise, devastating control.
She then kissed your neck, your chest, your ribs-like she wanted to memorize the taste of you.
And you let yourself fall apart under her hands.
But it wasn't just pleasure. It was the way she looked at you while she gave it. Like she wanted every inch of you while you took every inch of her large cock. Like you were worth knowing this way.
Your nails raked gently down her back as you moaned her name-quiet but desperate, breathy against her ear.
Everything you'd imagined. Everything you hadn't let yourself imagine.
The teasing was gone now. What remained was hunger, care, and a kind of reverence that made your breath catch.
You didn't rush. You didn't need to.
You had all night.
And maybe, just maybe-something after that.
When it was over, the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, your head resting against her shoulder, fingers lazily drawing circles on her skin.
But before you drifted off, she kissed your temple and whispered, "I don't know what this is yet. But I want more of it."
summary : raised in the heart of the countryside, you, Y/N Langford, has always known the rhythm of ranch life—early mornings on horseback, sun-drenched vineyards, and a quiet kind of freedom carved into the land passed down through generations. however, your father's recent colleague is interesting enough.
genre : country!au, wlw, countryside life.
warnings : beefy!nat, femme!reader, age-gap (r is 24 and nat is 32).
words count : 2.6k || masterlist
𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three 𖦹 part four 𖦹
HORSES & ROMANCE :
— Baked Goods & Conversations
📍Langford's Estate,
Clare Valley, Southern Australia
The sun rose slow over the rolling hills of Langford Ranch, lighting up the sea of golden grass and rows of early-spring grapevines like it had every morning for as long as you could remember.
It painted the landscape in brush strokes of amber and coral, and even though you'd seen it a thousand times before, it never lost its magic.
You leaned against the fence post, one boot perched on the lower rail, the familiar weight of your cowgirl hat tipped just enough to shield your eyes. The morning breeze brought with it the scent of hay, dew, and something sweet—probably the peach trees blooming behind the barn.
Your mare, Alba, huffed behind you, nudging at your shoulder with the soft impatience only a horse could get away with.
"Alright, alright," You chuckled, patting Alba's muzzle. "You'd think I forgot breakfast was a sacred ritual around here."
The sound of boots on gravel made you turn. Your father, Georges Langford, was walking up from the lower fields with his usual purposeful gait— sun-baked, worn-in, and always moving like the land wouldn't let him sit still for too long.
The man was the backbone of Langford Ranch and he looked it —broad-shouldered, silver at the temples, with lines carved deep from years of working under sun and storm alike.
"Mornin', sunshine," He greeted, pulling off his hat to wipe his brow.
"Mornin', Dad. Thought you were checking fence lines today?"
"I was. Had Carter do the west end. That post by the creek needs more than nails—it needs a prayer."
You grinned. "Doesn't everything out here?"
You both stood in comfortable silence for a beat, eyes drifting across the property. The vineyards curved along the hills like ribbons, and the stables were starting to come alive with movement—hooves on wood, snorts in the air, Carter hollering something at the barn cat.
Georges cleared his throat, one hand resting on his belt.
"By the way," he began, in that tone he used when he was about to drop something mildly important but wanted it to sound casual, "We've got someone movin' into one of the guest houses tomorrow."
At the news, you arched a brow. "Oh, yeah? One of the hands?"
"No. She's not a ranch hand. She's a colleague, technically. Been working in livestock management and field logistics the past few years—real sharp, real quiet. Does good work, and I could use the extra brain with the contracts we've got coming up. She'll be helping out part-time on the cattle rotation too."
"She?"
Georges gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "Her name's Natasha Romanoff. Comes with strong references—worked some rough terrain in Texas and Idaho. Kept to herself but got a rep for being dependable. Heard about her through Greg Havens. You remember him, used to run those horse clinics down in Abilene?"
"Sure. He's the one who taught Brandy how to sit for carrots."
You replied casually, looking over at Alba as you fed her a carrot. She gruffed quietly, then you ran you other free hand over her muzzle to soothe whatever was threatening to upset her.
Georges nodded, chuckling. "Same guy. He vouched for her, and that's good enough for me."
You bit the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.
New faces weren't exactly common out here—Langford Ranch didn't have a revolving door. People came, worked, and stayed for seasons, sometimes years. Others never left. So someone moving into one of the guesthouses —someone your father trusted enough to share work and land with— wasn't something you could ignore.
"She know what she's walking into?" You questioned, "This place isn't exactly a weekend retreat."
Georges smirked, the kind of smile that meant he was already ten steps ahead, patting Alba's head in a gentle manner. "She's got boots older than Carter. She'll manage."
A low whistle went past your lips. "Well, damn. Guess we'll see."
He started walking back toward the barn, calling over his shoulder, "And don't scare her off before she even unpacks."
"No promises!" You hollered back, grinning as you turned to your horse. "What do you think, Albs? Sounds like trouble to me."
Your chestnut mare whinnied, flicking her tail like she agreed.
The sun kept rising, golden over the fields, and you found yourself staring in the direction of the empty guest house—the one with the white porch swing and the wraparound view of the west hills.
You had no idea what this Natasha Romanoff looked like. But something in your chest shifted—a quiet hum of interest, like the first stirrings of wind before a storm.
Not that you minded a little storm now and then.
Especially if it came with sharp eyes, rolled-up sleeves, and a story worth unfolding.
🎀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🎀
The vineyard stretched endlessly, rows upon rows of grapevines curling around the earth like veins of the land itself.
The estate had been in the Langford's hands for generations, a legacy carried through the years by blood, sweat, and a relentless passion for the soil beneath their feet.
To those who visited, it was a picturesque sanctuary, a symbol of hard work and perseverance. But to the Langford's, it was everything—family, history, and identity.
Natasha had been in the business of wine for a while now, though her path to the Langford Estate was as unconventional as she was. A successful winemaker in her own right, Natasha was known for her larger-than-life presence, a woman whose strength was both literal and figurative.
With arms built from years of physical labor and a back as strong as any farmer's, she was an imposing figure, even among the burly, weathered men and women who worked in the vineyards.
She was no stranger to hard work, though her reputation often preceded her—a reputation built on an iron will, business acumen, and a certain raw magnetism that pulled people in, even when they weren't sure they wanted to be.
The guest house she had been owning for almost a day sat on ten acres of mostly flat earth. It had a porch that creaked under her boots and a wind chime made of spoons that clinked gently in the breeze. It was a fixer-upper. Natasha liked fixing things.
The redhead stretched her arms above her head, boots scuffing against the wood of her porch as she eyed the grass lining the front.
Her flannel clung lightly to her frame from the morning work, sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms. She had been there all of twenty minutes when she heard the distant sound of an engine, then a dog barking. She glanced toward the road and there you were, driving a red ford pick-up truck, the golden retriever settled in the passenger seat.
Natasha leaned one shoulder against the porch column as she watched you cut the engine, arms crossed, eyes scanning with interest. Not even trying to hide it.
"You must be the new neighbor," You spoke up, stepping out of the vehicle before letting your dog out. "Heard from my father that someone finally brought the Cross property."
The elder woman's lip curled. "Is that what they call it?"
"Sure is," You held up the basket of warm goodies you held in hand. "I brought you some cinnamon rolls. Freshly homemade from this morning."
She raised an eyebrow, stepping down to meet you. "Cinnamon rolls? Are you trying to seduce me already?"
You smirked, "Damn, you catch on fast."
The redhead smirked, taking the basket from your hands. Her fingers brushed yours, rough calluses meeting warm skin. If Ethan Langford was a great co-worker to be around, she was sure she'd appreciate his daughter's company, maybe a little too much. "Name's Natasha."
You introduced yourself next, and she let the name roll around in her mind, pairing it with your smile. It suited you. There was a light to you -- an ease. Nat hadn't felt ease in a long time.
You tilted your head, gaze sweeping over her like you were sizing her up. And who wouldn't? Biceps under sun-kissed skin, a scar just over her eyebrow, so faint that you would've missed it if you didn't look so closely, and the kind of posture that said she didn't run from anything. You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip and cleared your throat.
"You're planning on staying around more often?"
"Depends," Natasha replied, eyes steady on yours. "You planning on bringing me baked goods every day?"
You shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on if you're worth the flour."
She laughed as you turned to go with a smirk, your dog trailing behind. You called out while walking back to the pickup.
"Nice meeting you, Natasha."
"Believe me," The redhead called back, watching the sway of your hips. "The pleasure was all mine."
🎀 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 🎀
The scent of warm earth filled the air as midday settled across Langford Ranch.
The sun rode high above the valley, glinting off metal fence posts and the waxy leaves of grapevines stretching in neat rows as far as the eye could see.
Georges Langford’s voice cut through the quiet as he stood beside Natasha Romanoff, gesturing out over the vast spread of land like a king showing off his kingdom.
“This vineyard’s been in my family for four generations. My great-grandfather planted the first vines himself back in the early 1900s. Clare Valley wasn’t what it is now. Just dry heat and stubborn soil.”
Natasha listened, eyes scanning the curves of the land, the way each line of vines bent gently with the slope. “You’ve made something out of it.”
“We didn’t have much choice,” he replied with a chuckle. “We were Langfords before we were winemakers. And Langfords don’t quit easy.”
They paused at the vineyard’s edge, where symmetrical rows of early-season vines curled along the gentle hillsides like organized chaos. The sun cast their shadows long between the rows, and Georges ran a hand along a twisted vine like it was part of his body.
“These grapes—Shiraz, mostly—go into the reserve reds we bottle each March. We sell local, export some to the States. My wife—God rest her soul—used to say you could taste the earth in every drop.”
An old well house nearby that had been converted into a wine cellar, its stones weathered by time, came into view.
He pointed out the fermentation shed, the mechanical harvester they only used in a pinch, and the solar panels that lined the western slope.
“Hard to imagine this place any other way,” The Russian admitted.
“That’s how you know it’s in your blood,” Georges said, glancing sideways at her. “You start seeing it not just as land, but as story. As legacy.”
He paused to pick up a handful of dry earth, let it sift through his fingers.
“You got family, Natasha?”
She hesitated. “Not in the way most people mean it.”
He didn’t press further. Just nodded like he understood and changed the subject.
They continued past the cattle paddocks—wide, open pastures edged with eucalyptus trees—where Georges pointed out the rotational system they used for grazing. Natasha absorbed every detail, asking questions here and there, sharp and precise. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, it was clear she’d done her homework.
When they came up the path near the back stables, Georges paused, brow furrowing slightly.
“There she is,” he said, and the redhead followed his gaze.
You were across the field, just beyond the fence, seated effortlessly atop Alba. The mare’s coat shimmered like brushed copper under the midday sun, and your posture was easy, confident. One hand rested lightly on the reins, the other lifting to wave when you noticed them.
The wind lifted your hat slightly, sending loose strands of hair brushing across your face. Romanoff’s eyes lingered.
“Y/N grew up in that saddle,” Georges said with a hint of pride. “Taught her how to ride before she could tie her own boots. Girl’s got her mother’s balance and her own kind of grit.”
Natasha didn’t answer immediately. She watched as you guided Alba into a smooth canter, posture fluid, in perfect rhythm with the horse. You rode like you belonged there. Like the land bent to you out of love, not force.
Georges watched his daughter for a beat, pride softening the lines of his face.
“She grew up on that horse,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Alba was born the same spring Y/N turned three. They're a pair, those two. I swear that horse listens to her better than most people.”
“She’s got good instincts,” She finally murmured, her eyes locked on your figure.
“That she does,” Langford agreed. “She knows this land better than anyone alive. And don’t let her fool you—she acts like she’s all mischief and cinnamon rolls, but she’s got steel under all that charm.”
Nat smirked faintly. “I noticed.”
You trotted over, reigning Alba in just a few feet from the fence. You slid off
the horse in one smooth motion, boots landing in the dust with a satisfying thud. The redhead watched the way you walked—loose, unhurried, confident.
“Everything alright with the tour?” You asked, brushing dust off your jeans.
“Your dad runs a tight ship,” Natasha said. “Impressive place.”
You nodded, offering a small, proud smile. “It’s home. And a hell lot of work.”
There was something in the way you said it—not arrogance, but ownership. Natasha respected that. She respected people who didn’t just show up, but showed up for the land, for the animals, for the legacy.
You scratched behind Alba’s ear, then looked at Natasha again. Your voice quietening but also softening as you spoke.
“You settling in okay?”
She nodded, “Starting to.”
“Well,” You began, “if you ever need anything...wine, fence wire, conversation—I’m usually around.”
The way you said conversation was light, but it wasn’t nothing. The Russian caught it, held it for a second, then let it pass.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” She said, voice low.
Your father cleared his throat, clearly sensing something unspoken pass between the two of you. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to flirt while I go pretend I’ve got paperwork to do.”
“Dad,” You said flatly, cheeks blooming a hint of color.
Natasha just chuckled, deeply amused. “Thanks for the tour, Georges.”
"And also, we always have dinner out on the porch around six-thirty. Nothing fancy, but real food and even better company. You’re more than welcome, Red.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” She tilted her head for a nod.
He tipped his hat. “Try not to let her talk your ear off.”
And with that, he walked off toward the barn, leaving the two of you standing under the shade of the gum trees, horses grazing nearby, breeze rustling through the dry grass.
Natasha followed the curve of your form as you walked—long legs, dust on your boots, and a playful tilt to your hips that didn’t feel like an accident.
You glanced back at Natasha, a lopsided smile playing on your lips. “So,” you said, brushing back a windblown strand of hair, “You going to take the dinner invite?”
“Maybe.”
You looked her up and down, not shy. “I’d recommend it. My grandma’s lasagna recipe still makes grown men cry.”
Natasha huffed a quiet laugh, her expression unreadable. “You always this charming?”
You leaned against the fence casually. “Only when I know it works.”
For a moment, the wind quieted. The dog—Cooper—came loping up the trail behind you, flopped down in the dirt, tongue out and panting.
Natasha looked down at him, then back up at you. “Guess I’ll see you tonight.”
With a nod, you concluded, “Looking forward to it.”
And somewhere deep inside Natasha, something settled—like boots finding firm ground.
She hadn’t come here looking for anything beyond work and quiet. But life, like land, had a way of growing things you didn’t expect.
➪ next part.
. . . first post ! thank you for making it all the way down here ♥ . . .
so I am obsessed with your jj x readers fics, esp the top!jj and jealous!jj ones. so I have a request (if you take requests).
jj had Henry but she and Will didn't end up together because Will wasn't willing to sacrifice his career and neither was JJ but they used to spend a lot of time together for Henry. Fem!reader started working for the BAU when Henry is five, and JJ and Reader started sneaking around together. JJ is possessive of reader but they're both closeted, even though reader is now willing to go public. but then Will returned, wanting to be a family for Henry's sake and JJ agrees to give it a shot, breaking reader's heart. A month or so later, the BAU returned from a gruelling case and go to a bar to wind down. JJ and Reader haven't really spoken since things ended except for work purposes. But when JJ sees a guy flirt with and kiss reader at the bar, she grabs reader and takes her to the bathroom and becomes possessive....After, reader asks JJ what she wants because jj's behaviour is confusing and JJ says "You" (thank you)
Breaking Point
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader
Genre: Angst, Smut
Words: 11.7k+
Summary: JJ fell for you hard, but she wasn't good with feelings and she liked having control. Only problem was, she lost all of it any time you were around. Now, Will is trying to push her to restart a relationship and all she can do is push you away to handle all these complicated feelings.
Warning: rough sex, overstimulation, possessive sex, possessive!JJ, little bit of toxic!JJ, dubiously consensual kissing, double sided strap-on, multiple orgasms, vibrator, bottom!r, top!JJ, alcohol mention, biting... I think that about covers it.
A/N: I took a break but now we're so back and it feels good to be back. Hope y'all enjoy a JJ fic!!
(gif not mine, credit to luthqrs)
She had fallen first. You always joked that it was you who did and you were just waiting for her to stop being so wrapped up in her own head, but no. If only you knew how mistaken you were.
She most certainly had fallen first, and dare she say, she had also fallen harder. Not that any of that seems apparent to you now, or ever will at this point, if JJ were being honest with herself. But she would go to her grave denying any claim that you were the one to fall first or to love her harder.
See, she fell for you the moment she saw you. She might be practical, she might be calculated and calm and she prided herself in always weighing the risks versus the reward. JJ built her life around assessing every situation and making sure every single action she took, every choice she made, made sense for her future. But then her eyes fell upon you and all of that went out the window.
She replays that first day you came to the BAU in her head more times than she could care to count. That day she met you, you were just starting as part of the team. She heard your laugh from the halls before she even saw your face. The feeling of your laugh ringing through her ears, washing over her entire being, she won’t ever forget. She didn’t understand why she felt the way that she did then, not until her eyes finally met yours, but that was hours later.
Somehow, the two of you managed to miss properly introducing each other for most of that first day. You were off getting familiar with the BAU, catching up on who’s who and where’s what. She was wrapped up in a case close to home that seemed like it was all dead ends. It wasn’t until the end of that work day did she finally run into you. Literally.
With her hands full of files and her eyes glued to the words written in them, she kept walking until she smacked right into you. To her own defense, you were looking everywhere but up, trying to find the right room number to finally meet the elusive JJ in the first place. Neither of you were looking forward until your bodies collided and her papers started flying everywhere.
JJ was immediately mortified and frustrated and for a moment there was utter silence as you both looked down at the mess of papers around you. But then you looked up and laughed. It caught her off guard again, but she didn’t know why. Maybe it was that the feeling washed over her again. A feeling she rarely feels these days with her line of work. A feeling that something pure and happy was in her presence. It’s that sort of feeling that rubs off on people, but rarely does it grace the BAU halls. And then she looked up.
Your eyes sparkled as you laughed. “Well, that’s one way to make an introduction I guess,” you said to her between giggles. Without even knowing it, she was smiling back at you. She thought to ask if you were okay, but words were hard to get out.
You scooped up all her papers and she just stood there, eyes wide, as you placed them back in her hands. When you told her your name and that it was nice to meet her, finally she found her voice again and said the same.
The meeting might have been ordinary to you, but to her it was the first time in a long time that the world felt lighter. It was the moment that you walked out the door from your first day with the BAU that JJ swore to herself to make sure you never lost that light. This job could be monstrous, but you weren’t a field agent. She could shield you, she could protect you.
It was in that small moment that JJ fell in love, even if it took her weeks to realize what that feeling was. The need to protect you grew as she watched you wince from across the room each time new crime scene photos were presented for each new case. She remembered being like you, she literally was you. Now you’re the new communications liaison and you still had the same sick feeling she used to get when the horrors of the world were being highlighted page after page on the table in front of you.
—----------------------------
It was only a few short months before the feelings JJ had for you boiled over. She’d like to say she was good at hiding them, and to an extent, she was, but she unfortunately had a breaking point. What she really regretted was how that breaking point came about and what actions it resulted in.
In JJ’s best efforts to shield you from a job that, in all reality, was impossible for someone to be shielded from at least some horrors, JJ had also somehow convinced you and a lot of people around you that she hated you. She would urge for you to not be put on certain cases, but that would come in the form of her– unintentionally –making it sound like you were not qualified or skilled enough to handle those cases. JJ didn’t think that in the slightest, though. She really thought you were better at the job of being a liaison than she ever was. But she also knew the path she took from being a liaison, to finding herself in danger in the field and not as prepared as she should’ve been at times. She couldn’t handle you following that same path, so she did what she could.
The rumors that she hated you were also not helped by the fact that she absolutely froze up any time you tried to talk to her. She had no idea what this magnetic pull was that she felt any time you were near. She thought about you when you were around and even more when you weren’t. JJ knew she should’ve actually tried to have more conversations with you, squash the rumors that she hated you finally, but any time she tried to get closer to you the pull got stronger. And then by the time you did approach her, her mind was so wrapped up in the feeling that she just couldn’t think to get any words out. Everything about you confused her.
What made matters worse, however, was that JJ found herself always near you even when it wasn’t by her own choice. In the office, she was always nearby to make sure you didn’t walk into a wall, since you had this annoyingly charming habit of reading files and walking at the same time. Or, JJ always noticed you had a knack for getting up any time the jet had turbulence and she would often shoot up and catch you before you fell. Anytime that happened, JJ would feel like her skin was on fire wherever your delicate hands would steady themselves on her strong arms. It always made her stomach twist in a way that felt similar to when she used to have a fear of flying, only the feeling would stick with her when they landed and then hours after.
While JJ savored these moments without really knowing why, it came across quite differently for you. JJ’s eyes would always harden anytime she stepped back once you regained your footing and she wouldn’t stop staring at you. To everyone around the both of you, it looked like she was glaring. In reality, JJ was just trying to figure it all out. But as more and more time went by, she was starting to piece everything together.
Feelings weren’t something JJ was good at, but she couldn’t deny that they were building within her. She had decided maybe she should ignore them. If she stuffed them down long enough she could either get used to living with the feeling or they’d go away. At least that’s what she told herself, but then there was a day that your time overlapped with that one intern… The one with the rich dad and the shit eating grin.
JJ was in the absolute worst mood and he was just making it worse. He usually flirted with the other interns and she didn’t care about that but today, she guessed he was going for a different target. And any time JJ heard his obnoxious voice flow through the halls, calling your name for you to slow down so he could catch up, asking you a useless question, it just made things worse. She snapped three pencils that day and it wasn’t even noon yet then.
When he finally came to her office to ask if she needed anything, she thought asking him for a big coffee order for the office, but for specific coffee across town would solve her problems at least temporarily. She just wanted him away from you; he kept getting too fucking close. And she told herself this wasn’t about jealousy, it wasn’t because she wanted you and couldn’t have you, it was because he was going through interns like they were nothing and she didn’t want to see him treat you like that too. Except, her plan to get you away from him backfired in the worst possible way.
She didn’t think he would have the guts to ask you to join him in assisting, and she didn’t think you would use your lunch break to assist. But of course you did, because you’re kind and he played it up, acting like he could use all the help he could get. That just soured JJ’s mood even more.
It took over an hour for you to return with that guy too and the whole time JJ kept picturing the worst. How he might be driving with his hand on your thigh, when it should be hers. How he could be making you laugh and smile when JJ just wants to be the reason you do that just once more for her. How he could be asking you on a date and she wouldn’t be there to somehow interject and make sure that never happens in a million years.
She wouldn’t ever know if her first two worries happened to have come true, but to her utter horror the last one did. As he brought back the coffee, handing it out to all the team, he turned and gave you that same scheming grin and said the words that JJ absolutely did not want to here. “So, that’s a yes for Friday night?”
It wasn’t said to the room, obviously. It was said to you as you stood next to him and sorted out the pastry orders for the rest of the team. You just looked back at him and gave him a small smile and a brief nod. You didn’t have to say anything for JJ to know her worst nightmare was confirmed, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from asking her own question as she stood in front of you and waited for the items she requested.
“What’s friday?” It sounded just as angry as JJ felt. But what didn’t help the situation was the way you flinched at her tone and how your eyes widened in fear.
“Oh– uh…” you stuttered, your eyes still looking at JJ with shock and confusion. “We’re just going for drinks, no big deal.”
Why did JJ feel her stomach drop at the way your eyes moved from hers to then look down at the floor? JJ winced at her own actions, but it was like something else took over for her as your words began to sink in. “Can I see you in my office, (Y/N)?” Suddenly, she was on autopilot as the idea of you going out at night with him washed over her like molten lava. “Alone.”
She caught the look you gave the intern and the look he gave back, and JJ’s rampant jealousy flared, but to her relief you just nodded.
She didn’t wait for you to start moving before she turned on her heel and started striding to her office. When JJ reached the office she held the door for you and you walked in on shaky legs. She would’ve felt guilty at how nervous she was making you, but right now she could care less. She needed to squash these plans, no matter what. She had no idea how, but right now logic was out the window.
“Listen, I know that dating is frowned upon in the office but it’s not a–”
“You’re right,” JJ cut you off mid sentence, closing the door behind you with a slam. “So why are you announcing to the whole office that you intend to do it anyways?”
“L-look I’m sorry,” you were panicking as you looked back at JJ, still standing between you and the door with her arms crossed. “But it’s not a date. We’re going out for drinks. That is all, nothing the team doesn’t do regularly.”
“It’s completely different,” JJ snapped back.
“How so?” You were just confused if you were being honest. Not mad at the reaction of your colleague, but utterly lost to why it seemed like JJ was so angry from this that she was visibly shaking.
“Because he wants to sleep with you!” JJ knew she was breaking some sort of rules with HR with that outburst but she could care less. Her nails were digging into her own arms as she stood, fuming in front of you.
“That–” You honestly couldn’t think of a comeback. You were so shocked by her outburst that your mind was racing too fast for you to keep up. “Why do you care?” It was all you could manage to ask.
“Why do you want to?” JJ really needed to stop at this point, but her blood was boiling and her skin was on fire and she kept taking steps until she was in your personal space and had backed you up against her own desk.
“It’s not against the rules, it’s just frowned upon, but I won’t lose my job for it. I’m allowed to get a drink with him.” You were trying to rationalize something that you didn’t even want to do. It was just drinks, and he was nice, you didn’t want to date him you just wanted to have a good time with someone for a few hours until you had to go home to an empty apartment, was that so wrong?
“It’s not okay.” JJ was breathing hard and she was standing so close to you that you could practically feel her body against yours.
“Why?” You were getting frustrated. Your brain was working fast, trying to figure out what the hell was going on here.
The simple “why” was something JJ couldn’t answer. She didn’t have an angry remark, she didn’t have anything smart to say. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding in her ears and all she could manage was a frustrated, “It just fucking isn’t!”
“Does this have to do with the team or is this just your problem, JJ?” You were finally pushing back, but you still remained still. The confusion was irritating and her bad attitude was starting to rub off on you. The way her adrenaline was pumping, her aggressive reaction, it was all seeping into you and suddenly your scared demeanor flipped. “You’ve had a problem with me since day one! What is it? You’re trying to push me out right? I can’t even make friends with the intern, is that it? If you want me out of this team so badly, I can just go because obviously this isn’t working out! Not when every single little thing I do pisses you off so badly. I don’t know what I even did you, but I’ve had it with–”
And just like that JJ snapped. All control went out the window. You were mid angry rant but the thought of you leaving the BAU scared her just as much and her resolve crumbled.
Her lips smashed against yours with such a force that you had to brace yourself on her desk until your knuckles turned white. Her kiss was brutal, it was angry, it was passionate and the way she had finally released her own arms to grip your chin had you grunt against her lips. Your eyes were wide for a moment as her lips pressed harder against yours, moving in a way so yours parted enough for her tongue to graze yours. And when it did you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut and a slight shiver ran through your body. One of her hands was still gripping your chin tight, but the other had snaked its way down and around your waist so you didn’t have to steady yourself so hard on her desk. This also meant her full body was pressed up against yours and you were surprised by how much heat you felt as she leaned into you. You were also surprised by how much your own body melted into hers as she let out a groan against your own lips. It wasn’t until you heard that groan that you realized, you had been kissing her back. You had maybe resisted for a moment, but at some point your hands weren’t on the desk but in her hair, your lips had parted more, and you had let her tongue run against yours in a hungry frenzy.
But then reality sunk in for a moment and, since you no longer needed the support to stay up right since you were now seated on her desk, you removed your hands from her hair and moved them to her chest to shoved hard. Surprisingly hard for someone who had maybe a fraction of JJ’s strength.
She stumbled back, her eyes wide and her lips red and wet from the force and messiness of the kiss she didn’t mean to give. There was a pause, a silence that hung over the room as you both just stared at each other.
JJ was trying to think of excuses, of reasons for why the hell she would force herself on you like that. She was so angry she didn’t think and now she was angry at herself for doing something so out of character.
But then you took a deep breath and JJ’s eyes flew from the floor back up to meet your own. “So…” you cleared your throat as you struggled to find the words you wanted to use. “I guess that explains some things.”
And then you laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and JJ’s whole body relaxed.
Obviously, you did not go out for drinks with the intern. Instead, you and JJ had a talk and JJ had essentially poured her guts out to you and you had told her that you felt the same exact pull she was feeling. The only difference was, you actually knew how to handle your feelings, but with how JJ had been acting, you had convinced yourself that it was very much one sided.
Clearly it wasn’t, and after that moment in the office you had decided to try to follow your feelings with her, albeit slowly and without announcing it to the team for at least a good while. Keeping it a secret from the team was working out well, but the taking things slow part went out the window basically the same night as your first kiss.
JJ had the idea of talking alone, just the two of you at her place. That very quickly ended in her taking you right then and there on her couch for the first time. You should’ve been embarrassed you couldn’t even make it to her bed, but the way she kissed you like she was trying to savor every single inch of you, you never stood a chance at resisting her.
After that, well, the two of you were goners. Sneaking office kisses– and sometimes even more… whenever you’d get the chance. She insisted on being secretive and careful for numerous reasons, and you were okay with that as long as it meant JJ was all yours.
After six months of sneaking around had gone by, you did, however, reveal your secret to her child. It was entirely by accident and all due to the ex of hers that you never liked, nor trusted.
You both had been in bed, wrapped around each other the way you both would every single night since you exchanged “I love yous” three months prior. This time, luckily, you were both clothed. Both of you were tired from a case and just wanted to fall asleep in the safety of each other’s arms.
But then, early in the morning, an excited blonde head peaked through the door and that peaceful sleep you were once in was rudely awakened. It felt like someone drenched you in frigid water, the way JJ’s eyes snapped open and met yours in terror before snapping to the child bounding for the bed.
She jumped up with record speed and met him before he could jump in. “Henry, h-hi buddy. What are you doing here? Where’s your dad?”
Before she could even answer she heard his voice call from further in the house. “Hey, we just let ourselves in!” You really hated that he had his own key, but knew as they were co-parents it was necessary. Plus, that’s not what was on your mind right now. Now, you were also standing out of bed and just looking around the room helplessly as if hiding would solve anything.
“Mommy, you had a sleepover?” His innocent question felt like a shot to the heart. You both froze. JJ had a forced smile on her face that she directed toward her son but you couldn’t bring yourself to fix your expression. It was one of utter shock and horror.
You had met Henry, even spent plenty of time with him in the last six months. JJ would just say you’re a good friend and he happily accepted that. In all honesty, he adored you and you felt the same for him, each time you saw him it felt more like you were becoming a family, even if he was totally oblivious to that feeling. But the two of you hadn’t talked about actually telling him what you were, you never wanted to push it with JJ.
“Uh…” JJ laughed nervously, her eyes shooting between him and you. “Yeah, buddy.”
She was trying hard to think of some way to come up with an excuse for what you were doing in her bed. She knew he didn’t really need an answer, but she feared what he would say to his father, her ex, when Henry inevitably spilled the beans.
“So,” you heard Will’s voice call from the hall. “We thought we’d surprise you, take you to breakfast!”
His voice was getting closer and closer and you were frozen in place. There was no way for you to hide now, nowhere for you to run.
“Sorry to wake you and all, doll,” his voice continued to get louder. “But the little guy just wanted to surprise you.”
You could hear the creaks of his steps right around the corner.
“So what do you say?” His voice was right by the doorway now. “Breakfast as a family sounds…”
He didn’t finish his sentence as he entered the doorway. his voice trailed off and his eyes were wide. He was looking between the child clinging to his ex and you, a person he’s met two or three in passing because of the job, standing two feet from the bed. A bed that was unmade and clearly slept in by both of you.
“You have company.” His whole demeanor changed in an instance. His eyes hardened and his jaw set. “I didn’t know…”
He trailed off again and you heard the unspoken words. He didn’t know JJ was seeing other people. He didn’t know JJ was seeing a co-worker. He didn’t know JJ even liked women. They were all questions you could see swirling in his mind.
“I’m just leaving,” you finally spoke up. Something told you, you didn’t want to be here for whatever discussion was about to happen. JJ looked over as soon as she heard your voice and gave you both an apologetic, but relieved look.
You didn’t even gather your clothes. You grabbed your phone and keys, and left in your fuzzy pajamas.
When you got back to your place you were a mess. Nothing could’ve prepared you for starting your morning like that. JJ sent a text maybe fifteen minutes after you got back home with a quick apology and a promise to talk later.
But then you didn’t hear from her for hours after that. And hours more once the sun went down. And then suddenly the weekend went by and hours became days. JJ took time off of work and those days turned in to almost two weeks.
You were a mess. The team saw, but didn’t say anything. You just tried your best to do the job.
For JJ’s part she was also a mess. She knew she needed to see you, to talk to you, to do what she never thought in a million years that she would ever do. That’s why she was ghosting you, so she could put off the pain that she knew was going to feel like ripping out her own heart and stomping all over it and yours in the process too.
After that day, Will and her had argued. He had told her that he never expected her to move on to someone else. That he always expected she would come back to him once they both felt less married to their jobs. When JJ had said that, though, that was just her excuse to spare his feelings. Will had never made her happy, not in the way she was when she was with you.
But his words still twisted in her gut like a knife. They spent hours screaming back and forth about everything until he finally took the low blow and used Henry as an excuse. He convinced JJ that when they were apart, Henry would be a mess that he couldn’t be with both his parents at once.
If JJ was thinking logically, she would’ve seen through that lie since Henry not once mentioned that to her. But she was caught off guard and Will was pressing all the right buttons to make her guilt and anxiety rise, until finally she heard herself give in to him.
She uttered four words to him and that was all it took to realize JJ had lost this battle. “I’ll break it off.”
JJ wasn’t ready to accept the full weight of those words. It’s why she didn’t answer your calls or texts and why she took off work for over a week. In that time she didn’t see Will either though. After a few days he added into his arguing that they needed to try again and she adamantly disagreed. She tried to push alternatives, more time spent together with Henry, but not together in a romantic sense. He wasn’t happy about it, but agreed to take what he could get, always saying it was a “start” but JJ didn’t like what that implied.
What made matters even worse was that she saw you before she was ready to face you and it all happened completely by accident.
It was rounding on two weeks and JJ was running out of vacation time, so she knew she had to break the news to you soon, she just wasn’t ready for it to be that soon.
Except, she had foolishly agreed to dinner with Will to discuss Henry away from the house. He convinced her that their son didn’t need to hear them argue and that they’d be more likely to keep their voices level in public. She really shouldn’t have agreed, but she did. And that’s how she found herself seated across from Will at a semi-nice restaurant for the evening.
To add to everything else, when she realized you were there too, was the exact moment that Will reached out and put his hand over her own. She wasn’t even sure what he was saying, not when the rest of the world felt like it was frozen and crumbling around her all at the same time.
There you were, about to be seated with Emily walking in behind you. The look in your eye told JJ she didn’t need to say any words to rip your heart out, you figured it out on your own all in that moment. To make matters worse, JJ would usually recoil from Will’s touch, but being so shocked to see you, she couldn’t move a single muscle.
Your eyes switched between looking at her horrified face to Will’s smug one and then finally to the way his hand laid over hers. It made you sick. Emily stopped in her tracks behind you taking in the scene and no doubt understanding why your body language had changed.
She had taken you out, guessing the relationship between you and JJ within seconds of it starting. She also knew there was trouble in paradise, so when Emily confirmed you hadn’t heard from JJ after over a week had gone by, she thought a nice dinner would help. At least it would get you out of the apartment. You had stopped leaving other than to go to work since that fateful day.
Emily didn’t need to see your face to know it was filled with hurt. She put one hand on your shoulder and leaned close to whisper a simple “let’s go” in your ear.
JJ watched, sick to her stomach, as you nodded and turned back around. All too late her brain fully processed what happened and she shot up from her seat as she watched Emily help put your coat on at the door.
There was no conversation after that. You didn’t need one, you understood and you avoided her like the plague.
————————-
Three months went by after that. The two of you only talked when you needed to. You spent more and more time laying in bed than you’d like to admit and JJ… Well, she fell into a pit of self loathing for how much you were hurting.
Still she didn’t give into Will, despite what you and others might think. She would go along with his plan to spend more time together, but only platonically. And the only reason she agreed to that was because the days she spent at home without Henry were torture. She would stare at the phone and hope for you to call or for her to get the courage to call you, knowing she really could not do that after everything.
If she wasn’t staring at the phone alone on her own, or ignoring her heartache by spending time with her son, she was busy staring at you any time you worked together. You felt her eyes burn into the back of your head and it always made your chest hurt. You tried your best to ignore it, to ignore her, but there was only so much you could do when she hovered.
Again, you were thinking about finding another job. The only thing was you had just gotten comfortable here. And really, Emily had been your rock through all of this. She had spent a lot of time listening to your heartbreak when you finally revealed what she already knew about the two of you. Emily had even offered to try to talk some sense into JJ, but that avoiding that she was extending to you had unfortunately also extended to the rest of the team. She couldn’t handle seeing any of them, especially if they were going to, undoubtedly, question her about her increased time with Will and what was going on with her intense mood.
The closeness of you and Emily was starting to drive JJ crazy. She had a million questions ever since she saw her put a hand on your shoulder that fateful day. But she also fully recognized that she had absolutely no right to ask you any questions, and honestly she didn’t think she could handle hearing them for two reasons. One being that if Emily and you were romantically involved it would crush JJ even more, the other being that last time JJ got jealous, her control slipped and that’s what led her to this heartache in the first place.
So instead, JJ just watched and tried to see if she could figure out exactly what was going on. Of course, she told herself she also watched to protect you. Maybe she was a coward who fled from you, but she was still trying to keep some of the promise she made to herself about you since the first day she met you. She already let some of your light die, but she knew that was from how she had hurt you. Those wounds would heal, at least she thought so, but the way this job can leave an impression on a person really couldn’t. She just couldn’t have you getting hurt by anything else.
Except, when she pushed for you to be away from a case, you started pushing even more strongly for that exact case that she so badly did not want you to have. It was like you were purposely putting her through hell. She had to worry about you and keep her distance for some of these cases, the only good thing was that with Emily close to you now, at least two capable agents could protect you. Anytime she saw Emily do exactly what she swore she would always do, protect you, comfort you from the horrors of a bad case, it would feel like JJ’s heart was ripping at the seams.
And then there was one case that was just too horrible that even JJ could barely stomach it. But you still insisted on heading over with the team. JJ watched with a grimace on her face as Emily sat by you on the jet, her hand on your arm, trying to coach you on what to expect and how to take precautions. JJ was fuming at her close proximity and the way Emily was gentle with you in a manner she didn’t think she had ever seen from the other agent.
It wasn’t at all what JJ thought, though. You didn’t mean to challenge JJ when you insisted on these cases. You just couldn’t stomach going home to your empty apartment so much anymore, not when the ache of losing JJ was getting even worse. So you clung to Emily, your new friend, your confidant. She was a small light in the darkness that was surrounding you both at work and in your own personal life. There was nothing romantic between you two, it was just like you clicked as fast friends and that’s what you really needed right now.
So when a hard case came up and Emily was assigned to it, you insisted on going too so you wouldn’t feel so alone. Every single time, you ignored the snide remarks JJ made when she didn’t get her way. And you definitely tried not to acknowledge the jealous glaring JJ would send your way any time Emily put her hand on you. Deep down, you knew exactly what JJ was thinking about when it came to your closeness with Emily and you hoped she thought it. In fact, you hoped it hurt her. At least then she would have a taste of the suffering she put you through each night you knew she would go home to Will.
But with this last case, everything was just so much worse.
Not only were you in a small town with a hotel that had limited availability– so of course, to JJ’s utter dismay, you shared a room with Emily– but you insisted on being way too close to where the danger was. JJ couldn’t help but think that you were so over her and into Emily that you couldn’t be separated for one goddamn second. It wasn’t like that though, if JJ was being logical, she would’ve known it was because you were determined to help in any way you could.
Except, being closer to the case meant you were closer and closer to being the next victim of this unsub and it had JJ near her breaking point yet again. She hovered closer than ever, and you felt that from the way her fiery eyes would stare at you for hours on end as you and Emily worked closely together on how best to respond to the public while she was busy trying to find the killer.
And of course, the perfect storm came the moment both JJ and Emily took their eyes off you. You got attacked, you almost got shot, you could’ve died. JJ was tired of watching you walk into a hotel room with Emily right behind you and she had to ask. She couldn’t handle it anymore, she told herself if she just found out that you were at least happy with Emily then she would stop hovering, she would try to stop caring.
So she pulled Emily aside, for a moment– it was just a moment. But it was all it took for you to get snatched. JJ didn’t get to ask her question, she heard the struggle and her stomach dropped when she turned around and you weren’t there.
Then, of course, it was Emily who stayed calm. It was Emily who made the plan. It was Emily who found you, found the unsub, and rescued you from a fate JJ was always worried you’d meet. You were bruised and battered, but ultimately fine. JJ wanted to run to you, to hold you and comfort you and care for your wounds, but it was Emily who ran to you first. It was Emily who pulled you into her arms and squeezed you tight. And as JJ ran in behind her and saw the way she held onto you and you held onto her, her feet froze and she couldn’t bear to look at either of you.
Seeing all of that, going through that case on the sidelines while you were almost lost forever, it was killing JJ. She couldn’t pretend she was okay without you anymore, she couldn’t pretend to be a happy family with Will either. She didn’t know what was happening between you and Emily, but she had to find out, and more than anything she had to see if she could get you to give her another chance.
Emily was her friend, and part of her felt guilty that if her assumptions were true she would essentially be trying to steal her best friend’s girlfriend, but you were hers first. JJ wanted you to be only hers always, and she was just now waking up to that realization.
—-----------------------------
As soon as you all returned from that case, JJ set the record straight with Will. She had long since realized that Henry didn’t really care to spend time with them together. If anything, JJ realized, Henry missed time with you.
Will did not take it well, but JJ was prepared for that. She threatened court and full custody and he finally backed down. She had gotten him to agree to only see each other for drop offs with Henry and forced him to give her spare key back.
A week had gone by since that case, but the whole team was still feeling the exhaustion from it. When Penelope suggested everyone get drinks, JJ surprised herself by agreeing. But then again, she saw the way Emily approved of that idea and knew that if Emily was going, you would be there. JJ was determined to figure out what was happening between the two of you and watching the way you two were together at the bar would be an excellent clue before JJ finally got up the nerve– for the second time –to confront Emily and figure things out.
When you all got to the bar, JJ noted how the two of you came in together. She wasn’t surprised, but it made her blood boil in a way that was familiar to when that intern got too close to you.
You sat in a booth with Penelope and Morgan chatting away while Emily sat her stuff next to you and went to the bar for a couple of drinks. JJ sat at a table with Hotch and Reid, they were discussing something beyond her, but she couldn’t bother to listen. Her eyes were glued to you.
For the most part, you knew she was staring, but you had gotten really good at ignoring it the past few months. Except, this last week it had been worse. She would not only stare at you, but glare at Emily, her own friend. You knew, by the way your pulse sped up each time you caught the look JJ was wearing, that something had to give, you just didn’t know when. You especially didn’t think it would be on a night at the bar, with the entire team surrounding you.
Three drinks in for you and Penelope suggested some dancing. You didn’t dance, Emily didn’t dance, but Penelope pulled the two of you up and out of the booth anyways. So then you found yourself dancing very close to Emily while Penelope was happily moving along with the music and Morgan right next to you.
You had never been a good dancer though, so when you tripped on your own feet Emily’s arms flung out to catch you and you found yourself pressed against her. It all happened entirely too fast after that.
There was a loud slam of a glass somewhere in the distance and then a hand roughly tugging your whole body back by the shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a second?” JJ’s voice was louder than it needed to be, even over the music. Emily had backed up, her hands in the air as if JJ was armed and aiming for her.
You didn’t even know when JJ had spun you around and away from Emily’s embrace. Your head turned to look at Emily and her face wasn’t even shocked. It was just expectant and unsurprised. She gave you a short nod, looking at you with soft eyes, but before you could even agree JJ pressed again.
“Do I need to ask for your permission to talk to (Y/N)?”
“JJ!” You gasped at her harsh tone. She had never talked to Emily like that, she would never dare. But she’s also had a couple drinks and she was about done watching her best friend have her hands all over the girl of her dreams.
“It’s not my decision,” Emily said, keeping a calm and level tone.
“Excellent,” JJ hissed as her hand grabbed yours and tugged.
She had realized that meant it was up to you, but she didn’t give you a chance to agree. She needed to figure this out alone, right then and there, and in her anger she decided she needed to hear you say it. She needed you to admit that you were able to move on from her so quickly and with her closest friend no less. How could you even do something like that to her? JJ was seething. Yes, she knew it looked like she immediately moved on with Will before even actually properly breaking up with you, but she hadn’t! Aside from that moment where he touched her hand, JJ wouldn’t let him have any sort of physical contact with her after that. She loathed his touch, and she couldn’t imagine you’d be able to handle anyone else’s but hers. After all those nights of admitting to her that you were hers alone, she never thought you’d move on so quickly. But here you were, and to her, it looked like you were utterly wrapped up in Emily.
“JJ, what the actual fuck?” you were protesting as JJ was dragging you across the bar and towards the bathroom. She didn’t seem to care though, as she practically shoved you into the bathroom before stepping in and locking the door behind you.
“I didn’t say that I wanted to talk!” You took a step back from her.
“We need to,” JJ snapped back. She realized she was one to talk, considering the two of you never properly had a break up conversation. But at least now, you could have that or some sort of conversation. Whatever was going to happen, JJ knew it needed to be said.
“We could’ve done that any other time,” you began with your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s been months. And now, with everyone having seen your little outburst– Now, you want to talk to me?”
“What’s going on between you and Emily?” Okay, so JJ was ignoring everything you said to her now. JJ knew this wasn’t the healthiest way to work out her feelings, but she couldn’t help it. This was driving her crazy, her control was slipping again. There was just something about you that made the resolve she worked on for your years go out the window.
“What?” You took another step back in surprise. JJ followed. “Nothing! Why do you care?”
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” JJ pressed, taking another step into your personal space.
“Why. Do. You. Care.” You emphasized every word, getting more angry by the second.
“It hasn’t been that long, (Y/N)!” JJ was still taking a step forward for every step back you took until your back hit the bathroom wall. “Now you’re fucking my friend?”
“So what if I am?” You threw your hands up in frustration. “I can fuck whoever I want! I can go home with a random stranger, I can go home with Emily, I can fuck anyone I want. You know why, JJ?” Your finger poked hard into her chest as you finally reached your own breaking point. “Because you’re fucking your ex and you didn’t even have the decency to break up with me!”
“So you are fucking Emily?”
“Jesus Christ, JJ!” You were yelling, you knew you were yelling, and you knew someone could hear you if they were too close to the bar bathroom. At this point you didn’t care. “NO! I am not, but you know what, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go home with Emily tonight, maybe I’ll go home with a stranger. I don’t have to be alone just because you decided you don’t want to be with me anymore. And I think it’s time for me to finally, finally move on from you JJ. I’m not yours, I don’t belong to you, I can go fuck–” you practically spit out the word, “whoever the fuck I want.”
JJ stopped for a second. An uncomfortable silence fell over you as you huffed in heavy breathes from your outburst and the rage boiling through your veins. You took a step forward trying to leave, but in that moment JJ took one too until you were forced to retreat, your back again pressed to the wall. This time she was right in your personal space, much like that first day that she kissed you.
“No you can’t,” JJ’s voice shook with anger as she spoke, but it wasn’t a yell. It was a low, daring tone that made your skin crawl.
“What?” Your eyes were wide in shock that JJ, after your outburst, would still deny you your own freedom. “Yes, I ca–”
You couldn’t finish your words, JJ was already on you. In fact, she was pressing her whole body so hard against yours, you barely had room to gasp. It couldn’t be heard anyway, not with the way her lips crushed into yours with blinding speed.
It wasn’t going to be like the first time though, you weren’t going to give in that easy. You turned your head after a moment of her lips pressed to yours and took a deep breath before trying to protest.
“You’re with Will now!” You gasped out as you felt JJ’s lips meet your jaw line.
“I never was,” she breathed against your skin. Your blood went cold at that, but you didn’t even have time to process before JJ’s hand snaked between the two of you and cupped your chin. With little effort, due to the shock of her words, she pulled your head back so your lips could meet hers again and all you could manage to do was let her kiss you.
But some sense came back to you the moment you felt her teeth tug at your bottom lip. You pushed on her chest and tried to turn your head again, only able to mumble a weak, “I don’t understand…” against her lips.
Her hold on your chin tightened, keeping you in place as she used her body weight to keep you still against the wall. “This has been torture,” JJ groaned against you. Her fingers clenched harder around your jaw as she dragged her lips across yours once again. “I can’t handle it anymore.” Her lips pressed firmly against yours this time and all you could do was whimper against her mouth.
“I’m not with Will,” she continued to mumble breathlessly against your mouth. Your hands braced themselves on either side of her waist as she pressed you harder and harder against the wall. “You’re supposed to be mine,” she practically growled against your lips.
She was filling all your senses and your head was swimming. You were supposed to hate her, she left you. She hid you and then she got back with her ex, but here she was devouring your lips with her own. You weren’t supposed to swoon at the way she called you hers or melt when you felt her tongue dance against your own. But you couldn’t help it… she was all you ever wanted.
Your body practically melted in her arms as her lips dragged themselves over yours before fully claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. The way her tongue swept over your lips until finally you parted yours had your head swimming. When you both heard and felt the groan that escaped her own mouth your whole body shuddered. You really shouldn’t be doing this, you knew that somewhere deep down in your mind. But every time her tongue ran against yours that thought got pushed back further and further until all that was left was just her.
When one of her hands left from around your waist to tangle in your hair, you knew you were a goner. Her lips had left yours to attach themselves to your neck and you did nothing to stop it. The hand that had made its way to your hair was now tightened into a fist and she was pulling hard, making you tilt your head back so she could have more access to the most sensitive parts of your neck. All you could do was whine and squeeze your eyes shut as the overwhelming feeling of JJ’s tongue making its way down to your collarbone was driving you crazy.
There was no way you were going to snap out of this. You knew that the aftermath of whatever was happening between the two of you in this moment would break you as soon as it was over, but you had missed her so much. If she was being driven crazy just because she saw you for two seconds with someone else, how did she think you felt? It was torture not having this with JJ anymore. You craved this. You needed it.
But still there was that one voice. It was so small and distant now, but it was still telling you this was not a good idea. That you should push her away before this would hurt too much. JJ leaving you the first time had broken you and you’re barely putting the pieces back together. What happens if you break again? Will there be enough of you left to even salvage?
It was the feeling of JJ’s teeth biting down hard into the most sensitive part of your neck that somehow finally broke you out of the trance you had fallen under. It was like someone dumped ice cold water on your system and your entire body went ridge. JJ was too focused on the feeling of having you in her arms and against her lips again to notice, though.
She kept going, running her tongue over the angry red mark she had just left. Your hands were balled into fists again at either of her sides and if she noticed that you were trying to lean away from her, she didn’t seem to care.
“JJ, wait,” your voice was quiet and hoarse. If you could’ve you would’ve been more assertive, but your head was still swimming. Your hands pressed harder onto her sides, trying to keep her still while you pushed your own body away, but her grip was strong. One of her hands tightened in your hair and the other around your waist; the action made you wince.
“Please, stop.” Your voice was a little louder now and you felt the reality of the last few moments settle in your stomach like a bowling ball. Thankfully, JJ finally took notice of this. Her body stilled and her head tilted back up with hooded, hungry eyes. For a split second you wanted to throw it all away, but that tiny voice had officially won.
“Why?” JJ was still holding onto you, but the hand in your hair had finally moved back to your waist.
“JJ, I can’t handle this. I could barely handle sneaking around, I definitely can’t handle being your little secret again until you decide to leave and go play family. Or make me the other woman… or whatever is going on here.”
“You’re not those things, you would never be those things.” JJ’s eyes said it all as she uttered that sentence. The pain in them had shown, but it just added to your confusion over this whole situation. You were torn between wanting to yell at her and comfort her all at the same time.
“Then what am I, JJ?” You needed to press this. She can’t just keep you from moving on, she can’t keep interjecting when someone shows slight interest. Either this all needed to stop for good or the both of you needed to finally figure things out. “What is it that you really want?”
“It’s…” JJ stood still, her hands still gripping your waist. The sound of the drip of the faucets nearby seemed deafening in the uncomfortable silence, but yet you waited. “You. I want you.”
There was a pause and you took a deep, shaky breath to ground yourself. “What does that mean, JJ?” You whispered your question, afraid to get your hopes up.
“That I want to do this for real. I’m done holding back,” JJ’s hand released you for a moment to brush hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear. “I’ll tell everyone, I’ll vow to never leave you again. I just can’t be without you anymore longer.”
You searched her eyes for a moment and this time you could see the sincerity shining through them.
“Just tell me you’re mine,” JJ whispered as she pressed her forward to yours. “Just please, tell me you’re mine.”
“I- I’m…” you took another deep breath, squeezing your eyes tight before tilting your head up so JJ would move hers down. “I’m yours,” you breathed with a soft kiss placed on her forehead.
When JJ heard those words her hands moved once again to hold either side of your face, bringing your lips in for another searing kiss. But this time you were ready and you met her with as much passion.
She kissed you like that for a while, her lips pressing completely against yours in a way that left you gasping for air against her mouth. After a moment JJ left your lips and kissed up your jaw. She made her way to your ear and leaned into you closer, her breath tickling as she took a moment to enjoy the way you were panting and shaking against her. “Can we get out of here?” JJ’s voice was filled with so much want as her teeth grazed your ear. You bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out an embarrassing whimper at the words you longed to hear once again, and nodded your response instead.
——————-
Getting into her place was messy. As soon as the Uber dropped you off, JJ’s lips, tongue, and teeth were all over you again. The way she was kissing you, you already knew you were a mess for her.
As soon as she managed to get her front door open, she slammed it closed and then slammed you onto it, grinding her knee between your legs as she kissed you in a frenzy. At some point, the two of you had pulled off your shoes and she had scooped you up, still kissing you like crazy, as she walked the two of you to the bedroom.
When she flung you onto the bed, with more excitement than grace, you didn’t even have time to react before she was on top of you, pulling at yours and her own clothes.
“Tonight,” JJ growled against lips, “you’re going to know that you belong to me alone, always.” You felt her hips roll against yours from where she had already gotten between your legs and you gasped at the sensation.
“And you— you’re- oh god.” JJ’s teeth were sinking into your neck again and her hands already had your shirt and bra over your chest so her fingers could play with your nipples. It was making full sentences nearly impossible to get out. “Y-you’re mine.”
“All yours, princess,” JJ purred as her tongue and teeth moved down your neck and onto your chest. The second you felt her warm mouth close around your nipple, you couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that fell from your lips. You didn’t even notice that JJ had also managed to pull your shirt over your head, you were just so far gone in all the sensations she was giving you and she hadn’t even really started yet.
JJ spent time paying attention to your breasts, alternating between your nipples with her lips and teeth while she continued to rock her thigh between your legs and encouraged you to grind on her. Things were building up fast too, you could feel yourself getting worked up and close to release, but you desperately wanted more. More of her touch, more of her hungry possessiveness, more of everything.
It was like she read your mind though, because in an instant she was pulling away. You started to whine but then you felt her hands pull at your tight jeans and you were just relieved that it meant more direct contact with JJ where you needed her most. But then, once you were finally completely naked, JJ got off the bed.
“Where are you going…” you trailed off as your eyes followed her to her night stand. You didn’t need an answer, as you watched her pull out a silk bag that outlined its contents quite obviously. JJ quickly removed the rest of her clothes before returning to the foot of the bed.
“I got this a while ago for us,” JJ admitted as she pulled out what the bag was not-so-discreetly hiding. “But I was holding off on telling you, I was worried I would get too intense if we tried it, but…” JJ was back on the bed, kneeling between your legs, her hands on either of your knees. “I’m tired of holding back, aren’t you?”
You swallowed hard as your eyes zeroed in on what JJ’s hands were doing. With a pink, double-sided strap in her hands, she was spreading lube on both sides. You couldn’t help but notice how one side was quite larger than the other.
“It vibrates by the way,” JJ’s wink was even visible in the dimly lit room. “Are you okay with this?”
You appreciated the check in, and yeah you were nervous for this, but you also had never wanted something more than this moment right now. “Yes,” you practically moaned the word in excited anticipation.
“Good,” JJ gave you a smile more mischievous than you’ve ever seen it. And your eyes were still completely transfixed on the way her hands were lowering the toy down between her legs. “Let me just…” she trailed off as she took it inside herself and you watched in a trance as she shivered at the sensation.
Then it was your turn. She readjusted your own legs, spreading you wider and you couldn’t help but feel yourself flush at how exposed you were. You also knew you were incredibly wet from her already. Even if she used lube, you didn’t think you needed it. Although, it was big, and the biggest you’ve ever taken before was just her three fingers…
The toy lining up with your entrance is what woke you up from your thoughts and you gulped. JJ’s pupils were blown as she looked down at your naked body, your pussy dripping wet for her before she even entered you. And then, in a flash, she was all the way in.
The way you both groaned at the sudden feeling spurred JJ on fast. She was immediately entranced by how good she felt while also being flush between your own thighs. “Doing okay?” JJ’s voice was strained, she was trying hard not to just start fucking you into the mattress. She needed the okay first.
“Mm.. mhm,” was all you could manage, but you paired it with a nod. Your eyes were shut tight and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your own hips against JJ’s, desperate to feel her start moving.
The toy was big, the way it stretched you out burned, but it was so fucking delicious in every way. Except, the moment you rolled your hips a second time that was all it took for JJ to break. She knew she wouldn’t be able to go slow with this toy, not when it felt good to actually feel you somewhat when you try to fuck yourself on the strap. She just didn’t know it would be this good.
JJ’s grip on your legs tightened and she began to grind into you hard. Your head immediately fell back onto the bed when you felt JJ’s hips rock into your own. She was moving faster than you expected she would and it was all overwhelming.
With the way JJ was moving, her whole body was now pressed against yours. Moans and desperate sighs came from above you and you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even tighter against you. Your hips moved in time with hers and the way you felt her shake in pleasure above you while you took every single pump of the toy into you was incredible.
JJ’s hand came to your chin and she pulled your head back down until you were face to face, her body never slowing from the way it rutted into you. “Does it feel good?” JJ purred as she kept fucking into you with the strap, every pump pushing her end against the right spot for her. “Do you like what I’m doing to you, princess?”
You moaned, your eyes squeezing shut tight as JJ pumped even harder in that moment. But JJ’s hand stayed on your chin, squeezing a little tighter than before. “Use your words,” she demanded as her thrusts got more powerful.
“Yes!” You cried when JJ’s other hand moved to hook your own leg around her waist. “Fuck just— please just don’t stop.”
“Good girl,” JJ groaned as she felt her own peak building. “Look at me.”
It was a struggle to open your eyes but you did so just as JJ’s hand moved from your chin to your neck. “You’re mine,” JJ growled as she applied pressure. You groaned out a yes in agreement and JJ moaned as her hips continued to move frantically.
“You’re mine,” she repeated, fucking into you with full force, “and you’re going to look at me when I make you cum.” Those words were what finally did it, you fell apart on her strap with a loud moan. Her hips never stopped their pace until finally you felt her whole body shudder above you. Her head fell into your neck and you felt the way she moaned and placed wet kisses to your bare skin. The way the orgasm hit JJ was just as powerful as yours and you both slowed for a moment.
But that moment was short, because as JJ pressed her whole body weight on top of you, you felt her hips roll again and you whined at the sensitive sensation.
“Shhh,” JJ soothed, “you’re going to give me one more.”
“JJ I don’t know if-“ her hands were moving down your body, hoisting both your legs this time over her hips. You tried to finish your sentence but you couldn’t with the way she was slowly pumping the toy back into your already sensitive pussy.
“We haven’t even tried all its features.” You didn’t comprehend what JJ meant until it was too late and she had you gasping in surprise. One of her hands had left your leg and moved down between the two of you. She had turned on the vibration and now, the pink, rather large strap on that was inside both of you was vibrating in a way that was causing your eyes to roll back into your head.
“Oh my god,” you both said in unison, only your voice sounded like a garbled moan at the same time, while JJ just sounded breathlessly fascinated at the reaction it was pulling from you.
“This is better than I ever dreamed it would be,” JJ purred as her hips restarted their rocking rhythm into you. The way the toy curved so the base of it hit JJ’s clit at the same time made her struggle with her staying steady and slow, but she knew you were sensitive and needed to be worked back up gently at first.
With your legs hooked over her waist though, the strap was hitting even deeper than it had been when you first came and now that it was vibrating too, you swore you were seeing stars.
“That’s it,” JJ whispered as she grabbed your hips and helped you fuck into her strap. “Keep moaning for me, baby, moan my name.”
You didn’t even know you were doing that. You just couldn’t even control your body. All you could do was moan and whine as you let JJ fuck your into the mattress.
Your whole body was shaking and JJ’s was too. Her pace was faster again and you knew it was a matter of time before you both came together again, but when JJ reached down and turned up the vibration you instantly fell apart in a show of moans and tears before she could cum with you.
She didn’t stop there though, she didn’t even turn down the vibration as her hips started going harder.
“J… JJ I can’t.” You were practically slurring your words, you could barely function with how many sensations were going on as JJ kept using your body to get herself off.
“Shhh, one more baby one more,” JJ pleaded as she chased her own orgasm using your body. “I wanna cum again too.”
You just nodded desperately, your eyes shut tight as JJ again pressed her naked body to yours and fucked the toy into the both of you. Her moans were getting louder and yours were matching as your nearly exhausted body was being brought to the edge for a third time.
JJ hips were slamming hard into yours again, so hard you knew there would be bruises. And the grip she had on your hips was so tight you figured there would be nail marks left over too. But neither of you cared, because when JJ came on top of you again with a desperate moan you couldn’t help the cry that you let out as you felt your body release for a third time.
And finally, finally after a brief moment, JJ moved to turn the vibration off. Your body jolted at the feeling of it finally stopping, but you couldn’t even pick up your own head to look as JJ slowly pulled the toy out from you and then her.
“Holy shit,” JJ panted as she rolled off you and pulled your spent body to her chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you said breathlessly.
“Good… we’ll give it five minutes and then I want to taste you.”
“What?!” You perked up at that. Your body was still shaking and you knew your thighs were covered in your own cum. If you came one more time you didn’t think you’d be able to walk tomorrow.
“I told you,” JJ traced a finger across your jaw as you looked up at her with wide eyes. “I’m not holding back anymore. Tonight I will show you who you belong to and I’m not done showing you yet.”
You gulped as you looked at the resolve in her eyes. You knew there was no stopping this once JJ had decided to let go of control, but this is all you ever wanted. So, maybe another round… or even two… wouldn’t be so bad. At least you both had the day off tomorrow.
Guys. Why is everyone deactivating? Did the fandom die? Does anyone know why? Or?
Cause. Like. So many of them have deactivated. Especially from the marvel fandom
Of course, if no one knows that’s totally fine. It’s not like they’re all obligated to tell their followers. But if anyone knows why everyone’s been leaving that would be great
JJ is protective of you. When you offer yourself up as 'bait' to lure in an UnSub who is killing women of your type, she protests endlessly about it - but ultimately she can't stop you.
She can, however, possessively lay her claim on you when you get back from the ordeal with nothing more than a tiny scratch.
Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 3,100
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: This is pretty much pure smut (with very little plot); this is older/milf JJ and younger reader - the specific age difference is not stated, but the reader is mentioned to be the youngest person on the team; JJ is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; in the very minimal plot, the reader volunteers herself as 'bait' to lure an UnSub (that UnSub is hunting women with similar looks to the reader, but the reader's looks are not described in any way); (passing mention of rape - the UnSub rapes his victims); the reader ends up with a very small cut on her neck from the UnSub but doesn't get any other injuries from the incident; JJ is very protective of the reader; JJ is very possessive of the reader; lots of praise kink - JJ calls the reader 'good girl'; JJ calls the reader 'baby', and 'babygirl'; thigh riding (the reader rides JJ's thigh); JJ is fully clothed and the reader is naked; Mommy kink - the reader refers to JJ as Mommy; very slight manhandling (nothing beyond JJ's realistic strength/nothing to suggest the reader can't be plus sized); oral sex - reader receiving; edging (once - because JJ likes to play with her food); slight spit kink; undertones of humiliation kink; fingering - reader receiving; a lot of begging; implications toward overstimulation; and I think that's it?
A/N: I feel like I have to give credit to this amazing edit - this inspired the general vibe of this fic and inspired the song choice for the title. Dom Milf JJ got stuck in my head and I needed to write about her, and when someone requested thigh riding with Dom JJ, it all came together perfectly in my brain. This could be viewed as a version of JJ who never married Will, or this could be viewed as a situation where Will and JJ are poly and Will is totally okay with JJ and the reader's relationship (which is what's happening in my head, even though I didn't mention Will in the fic). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!
...
“You did so good. Hey, shh. It’s okay. You did so good. You’re okay.”
It was still echoing in your mind - JJ’s firm, soothing voice speaking the words, along with the way she held you tight as you collapsed into her arms after the long, hectic night.
You had been the perfect bait to a killer that the BAU had been struggling to catch - a young, pretty face, exactly like all the other girls he had killed thus far. You were the youngest member of the team, a fresh face that perfectly matched the man’s type in a string of young girls that he had murdered and dismembered after brutally raping them.
Even though you had volunteered to help lure the killer out, JJ had been stiff-jawed and glaring at the mere suggestion of you in the presence of such a sick man. You saw it as a way to help, but all she saw was horrible flashes in her mind, images of you merging with the crime scene photos on the board, turning into one of the dead girls who had been killed so brutally. It kept flashing through her mind on a loop, taunting her. She was deeply against it, and spent the better part of the day trying to talk Emily out of it, trying to convince the team that there was some other way.
But you wouldn’t risk the lives of any more women. You trusted the team to have your back.
And even when the horrible man had held the knife to your throat, just barely cutting into your skin with it while the team rushed to capture him, you still didn’t regret it. So many more people would be safe because of what you had done. JJ had been there for you - holding onto you tight, and assuring you that you had done well while your chest racked with sobs and you struggled for breath.
There was a lot of paperwork to be done and technically they wanted you to visit the hospital to be fully medically cleared, but all you wanted was JJ. You needed some time alone in a quiet room instead of all the flashing lights, people bustling around, asking you questions, crowding into your personal space. She stayed tight by your side, her hand never leaving yours.
She barked at them in her authoritative voice when you gave her a sad-eyed look that told her you didn’t want to go to the hospital. The small cut on the side of your neck that had been inflicted by the man’s large knife was bandaged up with you sitting on the back of the ambulance and then JJ whisked you away from it all.
With you still shaking lightly, your muscles quivering with anxiety and your chest threatening more sobs - she knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with your mind replaying it all, over and over again.
She knew exactly what you needed. (She always did.)
It wasn’t long before she had you alone in her hotel room, stripped completely naked while she was still fully clothed. She guided you to sit on her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed, the roughness of her clothes so perfect against your sensitive skin.
The lights were dim - only the lamp of the side table turned on, creating the perfect quiet atmosphere, making it feel like the two of you were the only people in the world. She had a firm, commanding grip on your hips with both hands, guiding you to sit with your thighs bracketed around her leg. You were soon sitting with the firmness of her athletic, muscled thigh stiff between your legs; nestled up against your hot, needy pussy as she firmly pulled you to sit on the fabric of her gray slacks.
You let out a loud whimper as she pulled you to fully sit and forced her thigh fully between your legs. She forced the muscled firmness right up against the naked, swollen lips of your cunt. You weren’t completely wet (yet), but you found yourself clenching down hard at the pure rawness of the fabric rubbing against you, the feeling of her nails digging into the flesh of your hips.
Upon instinct, your hands moved to sit on her shoulders, tangling into the mess of blonde curls there. You whimpered even harder at the feeling of her lips skimming along your cheek as she gently hushed you.
“Shh, shh.” She said, entirely confident and firm. “Good girl. You’re so good for me.”
Her nose brushed down toward your neck and her thigh flexed - you unconsciously bucked forward, scraping your pussy against her leg, creating a raw, perfect burning friction. A needy heat easily grew within you at a very fast rate, easily pushing out any fear or anxiety that you had about being attacked by that man, about coming so close to having your jugular sliced. All of it melted away from you with her grounding touch on you, with her breath fanning across your skin, with her familiar scent in your lungs.
“We’re gonna take it slow, okay baby?” JJ said, her soothing voice petting across you - like being wrapped in velvet.
Slow.
That word was usually your enemy.
But you knew that JJ set the pace, no matter what. She was the one in charge. If she ripped your pants down and demanded that you cum within a minute - then you were just a puppet for her pleasure. If she laid you out on the bed naked and played with you, teased you for hours and only let you cum for the first time when the sun was starting to rise - then all you could do was lay there, a sweaty mess, and let her have her way with you.
She was the commander, and you were nothing but her humble follower.
You felt hollow without her - always waiting for her command, waiting for her touch. And you could do nothing but accept what she had to give you.
“Yes, Mommy.” You squeaked out, sliding your palms from her shoulders, deeper into the softness of her hair, seeking more of that touch - more comfort.
“Good girl.”
It was that firm praise coming from the velvet of her voice that had wetness truly leaking from you now. You didn’t think that she could feel it through the fabric of her pants, not yet. But she knew you well enough, and she could see the tense of your thighs, the way your stomach quivered. She knew how to play you like a fiddle. And she was good.
So it was then that JJ dug her fingers into your hips once again, and began rocking you across her thigh - forcing you to move. She wanted you to begin riding her thigh in order to get off.
“Come on, baby.” She encouraged you, lifting her face from your neck to look you in the eyes - sharp, icy blue piercing through the dim lighting of the room at you, instantly making your gut twist. “Move your hips. Be a good girl for me. Come on.”
You couldn’t help but to follow the instructions, encouraged by her words. You moved your hips along as she guided you - already feeling pleasant warmth and tingling creeping up your spine, pooling in your stomach and between your thighs. With your swollen pussy rubbing against the fabric of her pants, it was creating a hot friction that was already driving you crazy. Your legs unconsciously widened, your body grinding downward, trying to get more attention on your throbbing clit.
“Patience, needy girl.” JJ growled, digging her thumbs firmly into your hips, making you moan out in pain at the sharp touch.
She guided you along in wide, languid strokes. She was forcing your hips to stroke back toward her knee, forcing your back to arch harshly before she brought you back to sit more upright, bringing your body closer to hers once again. It was a motion that put tingling heat through you - but it was a slow burn, rather than the fast, mindless pounding that your body was begging for. She was keeping you on a low simmer, forcing your body to warm up so slowly.
It was just like she wanted - slow.
You whined out with impatience, your hand grasping at her shirt while you bit your lip harshly. You were deeply resisting the urge to fight against her grasp in order to fuck yourself against her.
“Please.” You begged quietly. “Please, Mommy. I need it.”
“I know what you need, babygirl.” JJ told you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
You let out another pathetic whine, but conceded to her whims.
You closed your eyes to simply feel it, wondering how you would be able to cum like this. (Thinking that you wouldn’t.)
JJ continued to guide you across her thigh with determination and force.
You were getting wetter with each stroke, your body boiling in that slow burn, your thighs shaking every single time you were guided back enough for the stiffness of her muscles to graze your swollen clit. You continued on, your hips pushing deeper - knowing she wouldn’t let you break pace, pushing yourself down harder. You were simply enjoying the presence of her hands on you and the pure burn of her thigh between your legs as you bucked across her in those long, deep strokes.
“Please.” You started begging again. “Please, Mommy, please-”
“Such a needy girl.” JJ sighed - the tone of her voice almost bored - so light and airy, with none of her own lust showing through at all.
Though if you could have pried your eyes open for a second, you would have seen her icy irises almost completely chased out by her lust-blown pupils. You would have seen her looking at you with nothing but pure hunger - absolutely loving the show you were putting on for her as you became more desperate, as you stained her pants wetter and wetter as you went on.
“Mommy’s precious girl.” She hummed to herself.
You would have instantly seen through her calm facade. But you were far too distracted for that.
You were too caught up in your own head, too busy keeping up the long strokes of your hips for some friction on your cunt. You didn’t catch the wistful tone of her voice; you were too distracted to truly feel the way her thumb just barely brushed against the bandage sitting on your neck. You missed the way her eyes lingered on it - half glaring at the bandage, half glossy with unshed tears.
She was still burning with deep anger at the thought that anyone would be allowed to bring even the smallest amount of harm to something that belonged to her and still live. But she was also thankful to the high heavens that you had come out of the incident safe. So thankful that you were back in her arms.
“Mommy-” You croaked out again, your voice cracking with pure need, pulling JJ from her thoughts.
She shouldn’t be thinking of the filthy man who had almost hurt you. She should be thinking of ways she could bring you pleasure now - ways she could be thankful that you were still here, unharmed.
“Where do you need it, huh? Right here?” JJ replied, moving one of her hands to slot between your legs, just barely brushing her fingers against your clit.
This made your hips stutter, pushing toward her touch even more.
“Yes!” You breathed out desperately. “Yes, there! Please!”
JJ let out a gentle laugh, and this made you downright dizzy.
Before you could even comprehend it, you had been flipped onto your back - JJ taking advantage of the fact that your body was limp, lust-weakened and distracted. You were breathless as you looked up at her, now towering over you, so damn powerful with her hair billowing around her in a beautiful golden curtain. Her hands slid up your sides firmly while she leaned into you, pressing her knee into the naked rawness of your cunt - something that made you moan and clench your thighs tighter around her leg.
“Gonna give you just what you need, pretty girl.”
JJ rocked her knee against you a few times, enough to make you moan out brokenly. Before you could get any real friction from it, she moved away completely, leaving you breathless and even more needy.
And then, leaving your stomach flipping with anticipation - she descended downward, using a hair tie that she had around her wrist to put her hair into a messy bun before she positioned herself between your thighs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she had in mind.
She took a hold of you by the backs of your knees and shoved your legs up toward your chest, bending you to her will. This made you vulnerable and open to anything she wanted from you as she dove in eagerly. The moment that her tongue made contact with your clit, you knew that you were done for.
(Like you always were exactly when she wanted you to be.)
“Mommy!” You cried out desperately.
Your back arched hard as you fisted the comforter of the still-made bed underneath you, quivering under her touch but unable to move as she kept you concretely in place. Her lips suctioning tightly around your clit and sucking for dear life, determined to make you cum as hard as possible now that she had teased you to this point.
“Fuck, Mommy! Oh, oh god!”
Your hip muscles quivered and you gasped hard, struggling to get air into your lungs as she furiously worked her tongue over you. The movements of her talented tongue causing sharp, hard shocks of pleasure to emanate out from that precious little point. It was all so perfect - the filthy slide of her spit mixing with your wetness, dripping down between your pussy lips, even gathering and dripping down along your asshole and lingering in a small puddle on the bed.
You were a mess - just as JJ wanted.
She dug her nails into the flesh on the backs of your thighs, making the muscles in your legs burn from holding the position. But you had nowhere to go, you could do nothing but sit there and take it as she sucked on your clit and tongued against you with vigor - giving you exactly what you had been begging for, making you mindless and dizzy as the pleasure became near painful in the most beautiful way.
“Mommy!” You gasped. “Mommy, fuck! Gonna-”
She cut off your words just as you were on the edge, pulling back with a wicked grin and just barely cutting off your orgasm. It made your whole body tense up in shock and caused your lungs to let out a shocked, disappointed whine. You bit your lip to keep from swearing or letting out any complaints - which you knew would only lead to a prolonged time before cumming with JJ in charge.
Instead, you stared at her with your best sad eyes, hoping she would take pity on you. She gathered a large glob of spit on her tongue and heaved it onto your clit, and the touch of this alone had your legs quivering harshly and caused you to let out another sharp moan.
“Please!” You began begging again, knowing that your voice was completely choked by desperation. “Please, please, please, please-” You didn’t breathe between the words, chanting with pure need until JJ shut you up.
“Shh, shh.” She hushed you, running her cheek along your inner thigh. “You need it that bad, huh?” She mocked you gently, and you echoed back a moan.
“Yes.” You confirmed, your voice warbling.
“Hey, look at me.” She hummed quietly.
Your head snapped toward her automatically, and then you were staring down those powerful eyes once again - greeted by her chin glistening with your juices, her messy hair half fallen out of the haste bun. Of course, she looked more gorgeous than ever.
JJ crept back up your body, letting go of one of your thighs and letting it relax, but keeping the other leg pinned up. She put her body weight against it now, putting your knee over her shoulder while she snuck her hand between your thighs as she leaned in to kiss you firmly. The taste of yourself on her lips was beautifully tangy, and you couldn’t help but to suck that taste off her tongue as she forced it between your lips.
She pulled away after a moment, pulling a moan from between your lips.
“Tell me that you’re never gonna do that again.” JJ whispered against your lips.
In your lust-wrecked state, you were confused.
“Huh?” You mumbled back.
“Tell me that you’re never going to volunteer as bait ever again.” JJ said, grinding out the word harshly. “You belong to me. And you need to be safe. So what I say - goes.”
Your pussy clenched at her words. You hadn’t realized how much you had truly worried her - how much you had upset her.
“I won’t do it again.” You murmured back, your voice partially lost in your throat. “I promise, Mommy. I won’t. I’m yours.”
JJ showed her satisfaction with your declaration by shoving two fingers into your well-slicked, wanting pussy. With no warning, she began pounding the digits in and out at a furious pace, sending your body into overdrive.
Still pinning your leg into place with her body, she moved her other hand down so that she could rub your clit in fast, hard strokes to make it all more intense.
In seconds, your pussy was once again throbbing, lit up and burning from the sensations while she fucked you hard and quick - driving you towards an orgasm at an intense, rapid pace.
You let out harsh pants against her mouth and her lips formed into a sharp smile, clearly pleased with herself for turning you into such a mess so quickly. She crooked her elbow so that she could fuck her fingers into you at a sharper angle - and it was only moments before you felt your stomach clenching up again, that telltale heat drawing across your thighs as your clit downright burned underneath her fingers.
“Please. Please, Mommy!” You begged, your throat scraping against the word now. “I need, I need - oh!”
She was actually feeling merciful this time, and continued to fuck you through it, finally bringing you to the orgasm that your body had been begging for all night.
But of course, she didn’t let up. She wasn’t going to stop there.
She leaned in and kissed you on the forehead, and you knew that you had a very long night ahead of you.
...
A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot, and I will not be writing a follow up or a 'part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. Also, please consider reblogging, because supporting fanfiction writers is important to keep fandoms going! If you liked this and you want to see more, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist for more of my work.
Guys. I’m looking for a fic. I was just reading it yesterday and I lost it.
It’s a Agatha x Reader
And basically Rio is trying to get with Agatha (our wife). It’s an office setting and we get super mad when Wanda tells us that Rio calls Agatha her “work wife”
Then we win an auction to go to Greece I believe.
Then we see Agatha and Rio super close. We get mad, drag Agatha home. And I think we tie her up and cockwarm her.
this is an 18+ blog. if you're a minor, kindly get off my blog, this is not for you.
secondly, this is a safe space, any homophobia/racism/sexism/transphobia etc. is not tolerated. do not plagarise, copy, or translate my work. all works are strictly dom!reader.
my ao3 ♥︎ requests are closed ♥︎ taglists are discontinued
˚₊‧꒰ 🎱 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 . . .
4k followers celebration ♥︎ the christmas chronicles ♥︎ kinktober 2023 masterlist ♥︎ 2k followers celebration ♥︎ valentines' special 2023
𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖝𝖎𝖒𝖔𝖋𝖋
˚₊‧꒰ 🦢 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 . . .
nsfw alphabet — soft!wanda x gf!reader
arabella — soft!wanda x writer!reader
medicine — subby!wanda x avenger!reader
giddyup — horny!wanda x beefy!reader
rockin' around the christmas tree — horny!wanda x gf!reader
'tis the season to be horny — horny!wanda x gf!reader
last christmas | pt.2 — toxic!wanda x ex!reader
˚₊‧꒰ 🤍 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞 . . .
pretty little housewife — housewife!wanda x beefy!reader
babysitter duty | pt.2 — babysitter!reader x milf!wanda
kick a ball, score a hot mom — milf!wanda x footballcoach!reader
extra credit — professor!wanda x student!reader
all i want for christmas is you (to fuck me) — wife!wanda x beefy!reader
the excellence of misfortune
Moving into Westview to escape the demons that chase you, there you meet Wanda Maximoff, a married woman who's looking for the same kind of escapism. Where one seeks order and the other seeks thrill, maybe you can show each other a little neighbourly support, and perhaps, find the excellence of misfortune.
˚₊‧꒰ 🎧 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞 . . .
taunt — meangirl!wanda x college!reader
boudoir photography — student!wanda x professor!reader
study break — councilpresident!wanda x jock!reader
i'm (c)reaming of a white christmas — innocent!wanda x brother's bsf!reader
slow hands | pt.2 — popular!wanda x college!reader
˚₊‧꒰ 🐇 𝔟𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔶/𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞 . . .
babygirl wanda | pt.2 — drabbles
pretty in pink
Adopting a hybrid bunny girl becomes one of the best decisions you've ever made in your life. Despite the blurred lines that form in your relationship, you wouldn't trade anything in the world for your sweet angel that is Wanda Maximoff.
˚₊‧꒰ ⚽ 𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔰 . . .
guilty as sin? — older!nun!wanda x reverend!reader
espresso — model!wanda x gf!reader
spooky scary skeletons — toxic!wanda x ghostface!reader
the pirate and the mermaid — mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader
doctor's orders — barbie!wanda x gynecologist!reader
god, you're insatiable — jealous!wanda x gf!reader
heat waves — omega!wanda x alpha!bartender!reader
𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖆 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖋𝖋
˚₊‧꒰ 🕸 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 . . .
mile high club — avenger!natasha x avenger!reader
widow's web — blackwidow!nat x ceo!reader
ice cream — drabble
˚₊‧꒰ 🤍 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔣 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔞 . . .
mechanic jacks and jacked mechanics — milf!nat x beefy!reader
let me fuck your tits? — milf!nat x beefy!reader
home is where the heart is
In which your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)
˚₊‧꒰ 🎧 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔢 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔞 . . .
arsonist's lullabye — popular!meangirl!nat x beefy!jock!reader
i wanna be yours — roomate!nat x werewolf!reader
obsession, possesion! — innocent!nat x player!reader
˚₊‧꒰✒️ 𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔰 . . .
break the rules — stripper!nat x cop!reader
office hours | pt.2 — secretary!nat x ceo!reader
my divine goddess
After saving a mystical cat from a deathly experience, you're hauled into the world of Gods and Goddesses - with one wish to get whatever it is you desire. Steamy entanglements with the Goddess of Lust turn into love-filled confessions, but the two of you were star-crossed from the very start.
𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖚𝖘
˚₊‧꒰ ☁️ 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞 & 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔞 . . .
the super soldier theory — wandanat x supersoldier!reader
A/N: Happy Christmas/Holidays everyone! Christmas doesn’t feel the same as it used to. But I hope everyone has a great day and rest of the year anyways! Even if it doesn’t feel the same. As always, criticism is always welcome, so are interactions, I hope you enjoy!
“Happy Christmas Wands”
“Happy Christmas Y/n”
Wanda whispers, nestled between your legs, a soft blanket over her as the fire roars in the fireplace of your cottage. She looks out the window at the snow starting to fall, her ears twitching occasionally. She’s oblivious to the pair of eyes souly focused on her.
She looks back, noticing the attention.
“What?” She chuckles softly.
“You seeing anything interesting out there?” You respond.
She shakes her head.
“Then what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Just thinking”
“Excited for your gift tomorrow?”
She turns back to the window, hiding her smile, you feel a soft tickle against your thigh, her white fluffy tail wagging against you.
You start peppering playful kisses to her neck and cheek as her giggles fill the room.
“Maybe I’m a little excited,” she smiles.
“I can tell Lovie,” you respond, “you have such a beautiful smile.”
Her face flushes slightly as she turns around in your lap, straddling you; hiding her face in the crook of your neck.
“Awe, are we feeling all shy Lovie?”
She sheepishly nods against your neck.
Compliments always seemed to embarrass Wanda to no end. She ‘secretly’ loved the embarrassment, but she could never hide the fact that whenever you called her pretty or complimented her, it made her face warm. Always filling her with love.
Her whirring brain comes to a sudden stop as she feels your hands scratching her scalp. As she starts to melt into your chest, wrapping her arms around your neck and shoulders and sighing contently.
Your hand comes up to gently pet her ears, sensitive as they are, she melts even more into your embrace, she plants a small kiss to your neck. She mumbles a nearly incoherent sentence that makes you internally pause.
First. Thank you guys so much for the love on my last post. I only really post once in a blue moon. But thank you guys so much.
Also. I’m sorry but I don’t quite remember who made Bambi!Wanda originally. Doe!Wanda is definitely based on her, just a bit different. I do hope you guys love her as much as I love her though.
Oh. Also, if anyone is ever curious about the little universe I’ve created in my head with Doe!Wanda then please let me know! I’d be happy to share about it!
Doe!Wanda who shyly introduces herself, the fluffy white of her tail hidden against her skin as she confesses that she’s had her eye on you for quite a while.
She finds herself enamored with the thought of you. But instead of talking to you, she finds herself sneaking in through your open window and placing trinkets on your desk for you to find.
The same window you “accidentally” leave open every night after finding the first trinket. A small tin that she presumably found in the woods filled with wooden buttons. Seemingly handmade.
Little did she know you kept everything she left. Dried the flowers she left, kept the little plant cuttings in your own terrarium.
Question is, how did Doe!Wanda even get into your room? You were on the second story of your little cottage you built.
She sits on the stool by your desk, as you smile softly at her. Looking around your room with wonder as if she’s never seen it before. Settling her eyes on the string of wooden acorns you have strung above your bed. The caps of them being from the very same acorns she left on your desk.
summary: You didn’t really know what you were expecting when Agatha and Wanda found out you were casually seeing them both at the same time, but you didn’t think it would end up like this.
content warnings: daddy!agatha, mommy!wanda, humiliation, degradation, praise, choking, breath play, nipple play, vibrator use, strap use, spanking, double penetration, strap sucking, power imbalance, bondage, oral sex, fingering, anal sex, spitting, probably more but read at your own discretion! <3
word count: 7k
Good Wives Always Know (Wanda x Agatha x Reader)
You tugged against the restraints tied harshly around your wrists, your face flushed as you were sat naked, wrists tied to either side of the headboard of your bed, the two women looking over you dressed completely. You couldn’t believe you’d been caught, you didn’t expect them to ever find out that you were simultaneously seeing them both. While you’d never confirmed exclusivity to either woman, with the dynamic you shared with both individually it was probably expected.
“Oh honey, you really thought you could keep this little game going forever? Did you honestly believe we wouldn’t find out.” Wanda coos, perching to the left side of you, smiling in her sickeningly sweet way, her fingers brushing over your burning cheek.
“Of course she thought that.” Agatha laughs, her chuckle a menacing contrast to Wanda’s calming demeanor. “Look at her Wanda, this little slut probably thought she was being clever.” You whined at the pet name, but your cheeks flushing scarlet as Wanda’s eyes opened wider at the contrast in how your other woman speaks to you, a stark difference to the dynamic you shared with her.
“I just don’t understand how you found the time baby. Keeping up with me and Agatha.” Wanda spoke, her voice deceptively soft as her head tilts to meet your shamed gaze. “That’s quite the schedule.
“Time? Oh, please.” Agatha cut in again, neither woman allowing you to speak, “She was probably slipping out of my bed and straight into yours, isn’t that right pet?” With that question she grasps your chin, pulling your face towards hers, her lips pursed as you glares down at you, her hand forcing you to nod in response to her question. You didn’t dare speak, you didn’t even know what to say.
“Now, now, let's not scare her too much. She’s not used to being called out, are you, sweet girl?” Wanda protests, her hand falling onto your thigh and giving you an encouraging squeeze. The combination of both women was turning your brain completely fuzzy as you felt yourself slipping into a submissive role that was being torn between both dynamics.
“Sweet? There's nothing sweet about her.” Agatha spits, releasing you from her grip, slapping you hard across the face, the noise alone drawing an elicit moan from your lips before you allow your head to drop, your hair falling across your face. “She’s a dirty little whore who thought she could have it all. Look at her now, squirming like the pathetic mess she is.”
“Let’s not be too hard on her, Agatha.” Wanda pouts, her fingers stroking through your sweat sodden hair. “She’s just inexperienced.”
“Inexperienced?” Agatha scoffs, the rage on her cheeks growing, “She’s been playing this game for ages. We’re just the ones to catch her.” This time, Agatha's hand found its way around your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck at your lack of response to any of their questions, even if they hadn’t given you the time to respond.
“I’m sorry.” You squeak, gasping on the words that get caught in your restricted throat.
“Sorry? You’re not sorry, you like playing games, don’t you slut?” Her grip returns harsher and you whine against the palm of her hand, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards.
“I didn’t-” You struggle breathlessly, trying to respond but you’re unable to underneath the brunettes pressure against your throat.
“Shh, sweet thing, let Agatha have her fun.” Wanda cuts you off, her voice soothing but taunting at the same time. “She’s just upset because you’ve been so naughty. She only wants to teach you how to behave.”
A wicked grin spreads across Agatha’s face as she loosens her grip and you splutter at the sudden rush of air. She doesn’t let you go completely, enough to let you catch your breath but still hold you captive against the mattress. “Oh, I’m not done yet. But don’t worry pet, you’ll learn. You’re going to beg us to teach you more by the time we’re through.” Her voice drips with disdain as she lets her other hand trace down your body, stopping just above your waist.
You feel your skin begin to heat up with both fear and desire, your words unable to contain themselves. “I don’t want to, please, don’t-” You start to squirm under her grip, feeling trapped but exhilarated, your hands tugging harder against the restraints.
“Stop pretending. You want this and don’t you dare act innocent now when you’ve been sneaking behind our backs.” Agatha’s voice rises in anger again, eyes darkening with jealousy as she looks at Wanda, the soft glow of the redhead's eyes beaming down on you doing nothing but spurring her on.
“I didn’t mean to, I just wanted you both, I didn’t know-” Your words begin to trail off as you realise how desperate you sound with both women on either side of you, both with their hands on different parts of your body.
Wanda smiles at the admission, her fingers caressing your face as she leans back just slightly to give Agatha more space. “Oh baby, we know. You just don’t know how to pick one, do you.” Her voice was laced with sweet mockery now, your cheeks glowing pink as her tone began to change, a switch up that you were all too well acquaintanced with. “But now, you’ll learn what happens when you can’t choose. You belong to us, whether you like it or not.”
Agatha's lips curl into a smirk as she leans in, bringing her face close to yours, her voice a sharp whisper, “You don’t get to play both sides anymore, you’re ours now, and we’ll make sure you know exactly what that means.” You whine at her words, her hand inching closer to where you needed her, the exchanges between the two women had made you more desperate than you could ever imagine, arousal dripping down the lengths of your inner thighs.
“Do you understand sweetheart?” Wanda asks carefully, her fingers brushing your goosebumped skin, the pads of her fingertips edging towards your aching nipples.
“Yes Mommy.” You reply, your lips rolling against each other as Agatha smirks down at you, her fingers pressing down into your pubic bone, hard enough to leave white marks into your skin.
“How cute, you’ve got your Mommy and your Daddy.” Agatha smirks, not knowing Wanda’s title to you until your shamed admission through glossy eyes as you can’t pick someone to focus on. “Now your Mommy has been telling me some things about you and how much of a greedy slut you are with her, hm?” Even Wanda squirmed slightly at Agatha’s words, but you, you were a whimpering mess underneath them both.
“I don’t, I’m not-” You exclaim, batting your eyelashes at Wanda who didn’t give you any soft and calming looks back.
“You’ve never touched her have you?” Agatha states, two fingers reaching down to stroke the length of your cunt, spreading you apart and gathering your arousal onto her fingers. You shake your head, both you and Wanda knowing that their dynamic was different to yours and Agathas. “But that's what she’s good for Wanda, she's such a good little fucktoy when she wants to be, I use her all the time you should try her.”
With her words, the pressure of her fingertips grew stronger, planting lazy circles against your clit, being spoken about like you’re not there, not getting the attention that you want was driving you insane. You tried everything to snap them back to you, lifting your hips, trying to get the friction that you desperately craved, but Agatha was good at ignoring you.
“You’re going to show your Mommy how good that tongue of yours is.” Agatha orders, casually removing her hand from between your legs despite your whines of protest, untying the restraints that had held you captive. As soon as you’d been let free, her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you onto your knees.
As Wanda stood, she unbuckled her belt, removed her trousers and her laced underwear, positioning herself in front of your hung face, her legs open and you were practically drooling at the sight of her opened up in front of you, her arousal reflecting the light.
“Go on honey, I give you permission.” Wanda spoke calmly, watching as Agatha positioned herself behind you, unknowingly to you. You couldn’t care what Agatha was doing as the permission to touch her was the only thing you could focus on. You didn’t know what Wanda liked, but you just performed what Agatha had taught you when you first met, your tongue licking wide strokes up and down the length of her pussy, groaning at the taste of her.
Just as you started to drive circles into Wanda’s clit with the tip of your tongue, you felt Agatha’s hand collide harshly with your ass, an unexpected moan forced its way through your lips, vibrating conveniently against Wanda’s cunt.
“You’ve been seeing your Mommy for ten weeks behind Daddy’s back, so you’re getting ten.” Agatha announces, delivering another quick spank to the other cheek. You moaned again, this time you were joined with a high pitched groan from Wanda, who had fallen back on her arms, her hips lifting to meet where your tongue was circling lightly against your clit.
“Oh baby you’re making Mommy feel so good.” Wanda gasped as your circles got harder and tighter. Agatha delivered two more spanks to you and you groan increasingly louder with each one and the redhead’s hands fall into the locks of your hair, forcing your face closer to her arousal. You started to suck against her clit, your rhythm being put off once again by another spank.
“You make Mommy sound so pretty with that whore mouth of yours.” Agatha comments and even Wanda whines at the remark, her cheeks flushed and her neck strained as show throws her head back in pure ecstasy. “Look at your Mommy when you make her cum.” She forces your head up, your tongue remaining firmly against Wanda’s clit, the redhead trembling in front of you as Agatha smacks your ass another three times in quick succession was enough to make you fall apart in between them both.
You could feel Wanda shaking around you, her thighs clenching harder around your face as Agatha spanked you for the penultimate time. Wanda’s chest rose as you sucked against her clit, grazing your teeth over her nub and that was all she needed, she came tumbling over the edge with a pornographic moan, her hands still buried in your hair as she continued to grind against your tongue as she worked herself through her orgasm.
Just as you leaned away from her, Agatha slapped your ass harder than she ever had before you and groaned in pain, trying to scurry away from her, but she had a tight grip on your thighs, keeping you in place.
“God your Daddy was right, you are incredible with your tongue.” Wanda praises, changing her position so she’s lying next to you, her hands caressing the red marks left by Agatha. You pout at the redhead, knowing that you could get yourself out of this punishment if you kept acting sweet and innocent, but Agatha would never fall for it. You were right, of course.
Agatha flips you onto your back, laying you down harshly against the matress. “Don’t give into her Wanda, she wanted our attention and now she’s got it so let’s see how much she can take.” You watch as Agatha reaches for her wand, handing it over to Wanda and you feel your body squirm as your mind flicks to the countless times Wanda has punished you with this toy, edging you over and over until you’re a pathetic mess begging her to let you come.
“Come on sweetheart, you know you have to be punished so take it like a good girl.” Wanda beams, her smile calming you as Agatha pries open your legs, holding one so you can’t escape from what was about to happen. You hear the vibrations before you feel them, the anticipation making your body tremble as the brunettes' nails dug harshly into your upper thigh.
Wanda moves the vibrator an inch so it's pressed lightly up against your clit and you whine so desperately to the pleasure that was coursing through your body. You were already so desperate, your arousal leaking and smothering your thighs from being spanked so harshly, your clit pulsating against the vibrations as Wanda pressed the head of the toy harder against you.
Agatha started to play with your hardened nipples, she was never gentle with you. Her nails were scratching against your nubs, her fingers rolling them harshly. The addition of Agatha’s harsh pulls and twists against your breasts and the increasing vibrations pulsating through your cunt was bringing you unashamedly close to the edge as your thighs begin to tremble, Agatha slaps your erect nipple, making you gasp and try not to tumble over the edge. Before you could even think about it, Wanda removed the vibrator from you, her familiar mockingly sad pout looming over you as Agatha continued to play with your nipples.
Wanda gives you a few seconds to reset before placing the vibrator back against your clit as your hips buck subconsciously to meet the toy. “Do you like being the center of attention? Having both of us watching your every move?” Wanda asks, her voice slick with a sweet mockery of your current state as you nod so hard you almost pass out.
“Oh she loves it. Look at her.” Agatha jeers, leaning down to bite your right nipple, drawing a high pitched squeal from your throat, “She’s practically begging for more.”
You felt yourself getting close again, but before you could get there Wanda removed the vibrator once more. You were frustrated, your cheeks flushed, your forehead slick with sweat. You start whining but Agatha grasps your mouth with her flat palm, forcing your whines to be muffled by her strop grip as Wanda places the vibrator against you again.
You get close embarrassingly fast, not being given enough time to recover. You start trembling and moaning against Agatha’s hand, but before you are given any sort of release the vibrator is removed from you again. Wanda can’t help but laugh at your body sprawled across the mattress, Agatha’s fingers still pulling at your nipples.
“Please Mommy, I can’t, I need to come, please.” You beg, knowing that it usually worked with Wanda, tactfully choosing not to address Agatha because you know what the answer would be.
“Okay sweetheart, this time you can come for Mommy okay.” You nod enthusiastically, opening your legs up wider and you can hear Agatha scoff in disbelief at how easily Wanda had caved from one line of pathetic begging. You felt the vibrator again, this time your body relaxed into it, allowing the pleasure to take over your body. You were a stuttering mess, your body squirming despite both womens harsh grips on your skin in an attempt to keep you still.
This time when you get close, you let your body take over and the orgasm rips fiercely through your body, your muscles contorting from the relief of frustration. Just as Wanda went to turn the vibrator off, Agatha grabs if from Wanda, finding the dial and turning it up to the maximum speed and pressing it hard against your sensitive clit.
“No way, Daddy is not letting you get off that easy.” Agatha smirks as you do everything you can to get away from the strength of the toy that was being pressed so harshly against you it was painful. Your legs start thrashing against the bed, but Agatha doesn’t stop, she just laughs at your struggle.
“Please forgive me Daddy, I can’t” You whine desperately, tears forming in your eyes as another painful orgasm rushed through your body against your will, but she still doesn’t give in, she keeps her strong grip on the vibrator, not allowing you to escape from her.
“You know the word if you can’t do it.” Agatha says, waiting impatiently for a safeword to come out of your mouth, but as she expected, she was met with radio silence, “Yeah thats what I thought you fucking whore, take it like the little slut you are for Daddy.” Agatha laughs as she pushes even harder and you scream in desperation as you feel another orgasm getting dangerously close to your sensitive cunt, you weren’t even sure if you could manage another one.
Wanda started to draw circles into your skin, her instincts kicking in when she sees a tear stream down your face. She goes to wipe it from your cheek, but Agatha stops her with her spare hand. “Look at how pathetic she looks when she cries, she’s so easy to break.” Agatha says as more tears stream down your cheeks. Wanda manages to brush a few away from your cheek much to Agatha’s distaste.
“I’ve never seen her like this before, she looks so helpless.” Wanda comments as your body shakes underneath the vibrator, the pain and pleasure combining too much and you’re so overstimulated you can’t help but let the tears fall.
“Helpless? No doll, she’s nothing more than our slutty little toy and she’s ours to break, look at her, it's pathetic.” With that, she spits at you, her saliva mixing with your tears on your face. This time you’re met with Wanda looking down at you, a satisfied hum leaving her throat as she finally sees what Agatha means. You were done for, if Agatha could convert Wanda so easily, you didn’t know if you’d ever get out of it.
“I can’t do it Daddy, I’m so close I can’t do it again.” You whine in desperation as another orgasm tried to break you, but you were holding it back so you didn’t have to feel the sensitivity afterwards again.
“God you’re so pathetic.” Agatha growls, turning the vibrator off and you can breathe again, your aching cunt dripping down onto the bed sheets. You’re barely given a moment to recover before Agatha is unbuckling her belt and forcing you up onto your knees. “It’s a shame, I was going to fuck you after one more orgasm.” Agatha laughed, motioning towards your favourite purple strap that was waiting for you, already attached to the harness.
“No wait Daddy, Please I’ll do it, I’m sorry.” You whine, you knew this was Agatha messing with your head but your fuzzy state of mind couldn’t see past it, the only thing you knew how to do was beg, even if they called you pathetic. She ignored your attempts, holding her belt between her hands before buckling it back around your hands as she tugged them behind your back, tightening it so you couldn’t move them. You winced at the stretch, but you got no sympathy in return.
“No its okay sweetheart, you can watch while Mommy gets fucked by Daddy instead of you.” Wanda coos and you could have almost combusted on the spot. You try to move, but your hands behind your back put you off balance and you realise your fate as Agatha slips herself into the harness, lubing it up as Wanda arches her back on the mattress. You couldn’t even whine anymore, your silence was astronomical as you watched the scene play out in front of you.
Agatha isn’t rough with Wanda, she treats her with respect, knowing the redhead deserved it. “Agatha, no teasing.” Wanda demands as she feels the head of the strap rubbing against her pussy, and Agatha immediately complies, pushing the length of the cock inside of her and relishing in the pornographic sounds that erupted from the redhead's mouth. Wanda’s fingernails dug into the bedsheets, gripping fistfuls of the duvet underneath her as she felt Agatha’s hips begin to thrust gently into her.
“Fuck you’re so tight for me,” Agatha groans, finding the strength to double her efforts and thrust harder into the redhead, feeling how desperate she was for her. “Makes a change fucking someone who isn’t a pathetic fucktoy.” Agatha shoots her words at you as she squirm against the mattress, your knees begin to ache and your shoulders pulling backwards at un uncomforting level. “You like watching Daddy fuck Mommy huh?” Agatha asks you and Wanda’s blissed out face turns to look at you writhing in your restraints.
“Let me see how wet you are, open those legs for Mommy.” Wanda manages to get out in a fairly casual manner considering Agatha is basically pounding into her now, her hands on her waist, forcing her back onto her cock to meet her thrusts. You do as she says, the wet patch forming underneath you a good enough indicator of how much this was turning you on.
At the sight of you, to Wanda’s delight, Agatha got rougher with her thrusts, her hand snaking round her body to circle her clit with the tips of two of her fingers. That was all it took, Wanda came crashing around the brunette's cock, her moans unashamedly loud and Agatha looks fairly satisfied with both of your reactions. Before she had a chance to pull out, Wanda lifted her body up with Agatha’s cock still buried inside of her, turning her head to place a kiss against her lips.
That was only the beginning as the brunette reciprocated, grabbing the back of her neck and tracing her tongue against the surface of Wanda’s, both of them moaning into each other's mouths as Wanda grinded against the base of the strap. That turned you on more than watching them have sex, the way they moulded together in a fierce fight of dominance. Your desperate whines pull them away from each other, both their eyes falling on you.
To your disappointment, Agatha shimmied her way out of her harness, leaving her wearing her shirt and laced underwear, a small damp patch revealing itself to you and you were ready to give Agatha everything you know she needed. The brunette watched as you licked your lips at the sight of her dampened underwear and she stripped them from her cunt, throwing them to the side before guiding you onto your front, your hands still restrained behind your back.
“You’re going to make Daddy come as a thank you from me sweetheart.” Wanda said, tucking your hair behind your ear, as Agatha leaned backwards, her legs spread as the redhead helped you into position. She undoes the belt, allowing you to lean on your elbows as you kiss Agatha’s clit, her arousal seeping into your lips. She didn’t like it when you rushed, and you knew how desperate she was for it and how you’d be more likely to get what you want if you please her.
“Put that mouth to good use slut.” Agatha growls through her desperation, scratching her nails through your hair and digging into your scalp to keep your face in position as you lick swirls through her folds. Unlike Wanda, Agatha rarely made a sound, she just went silent, her eyes always remaining on you through hooded eyes, giving you no satisfaction for making her cum.
“While you make your Daddy feel good, we’re going to show her what we like to do together when you’re really desperate.” Wanda breathes into your ear, her body slick against yours, biting your earlobe before grabbing your ass and your eyes widened as your tongue worked hard against Agatha’s wet cunt. “Because I can feel how desperate you are.” Wanda smirked, two fingers reaching for your entrance, swiping at your dripping arousal before sucking her fingers into her mouth to taste your desperation plain and simple.
She starts to push her fingers towards your entrance, before she stops, gathering enough arousal between her fingertips before allowing one of them to graze the rim of your second hole and you groan into Agatha’s pussy, the vibrations making her legs twitch. “You want me in here, don't you love.” Wanda teased, pressing lightly against your asshole, something which you’d never let Agatha do. You nod, your tongue beginning large circles around Agatha’s clit, still remaining slow and composed against her cunt, knowing better than to speed up without instruction.
“I wanna show Daddy.” You say, lifting up to take a breath, but you were immediately forced back down by Agatha’s quick hands and your tongue knows to continue before your brain can tell you to.
You could feel Wanda shifting her weight behind you before palming the soft skin of your ass a few times before spreading it. The sound which left your mouth and reverberated off of Agatha’s cunt as Wanda pressed her tongue against your asshole was bordering on humiliating. You pussy clenched around nothing, aching at the way she teased your rim.
Wanda hummed against your skin before pulling back to rub a slick finger against it. “You take it so well, don’t you? You like getting your ass fucked by Mommy?”
The flush she brought to your cheeks had you squirming, but your tongue remained present on Agatha’s clit, the tug she had on your hair made you speed up just a fraction, the tremble in her thighs spurring you on.
Wanda reached round your body to circle your clit in order to distract you from the way her fingertip dipped inside. She was efficient with it, working it deeper and deeper until you could feel her knuckle against your skin. Your pussy tightened with every gentle thrust as she worked, dripping down to where her other hand slid across your clit.
By the time she lined a second finger alongside the first, Agatha was letting out the prettiest little grunts. You watched for a while, enjoying the rock of her hips and the wet noises your tongue made against her heat. You groaned desperately when you felt Wanda’s second finger stretching deep inside of you.
She was working hard to stretch you out, knowing what would be coming next, but you didn’t. Before you could even question why Wanda was preparing you up, Agatha’s chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace and her hands in your hair gripped tightly and you knew she was close. You continued the exact rhythm you’d found with your tongue and within a few seconds Agatha’s thighs were trembling before trapping your head between her legs while you sent her over the edge with a few breathy moans, your head transfixed into face as Wanda stretched you out with her two fingers.
As soon as Agatha recovered, Wanda gently pulled out of you and before you could protest at the emptiness, the brunette pulled you onto her body, colliding her lips with yours so she could taste herself on your tongue.
“Are you ready to make it up to us like the dirty little whore you are?” Agatha pulled away and whispered into your ear. You nodded desperately and before you could move yourself, Agatha grabbed a fistfull of your hair and forced you onto the floor on your already sore knees. You grunted at the pain, but you received nothing as you watched both women put on harnesses, Agatha's purple one a lot bigger than Wanda’s pale pink dildo.
You sat and waited in anticipation, falling against the heels of your feet, your hands remaining on your thighs. Both women, strapped up, sit themselves next to each other at the foot of the bed, looking down at you on your knees.
“She’s got so much potential, doesn’t she?” Wanda said and your face flushed pink at the praise, your eyes meeting Wanda’s and you were met with the kind gentle face you were used to.
“Potential?” Agatha scoffed, “Sure, if you mean as a toy for us to use.” Your face flushed a darker red, changing your gaze to meet Agatha’s unforgiving smirk. “Come on slut , you know what to do.” Agatha smiled, looking down at her cock, waiting for you to clasp your lips around it.
So you do exactly that, taking just the head into your mouth, licking around the top as if she could actually feel it before bobbing your head down further to take as much of her in as you could. Once you’d adjusted, she grabbed your hair, pushing you further down the shaft until you choked and spluttered against the strap. She lets you up for air, before Wanda guides your face towards her cock, gently forcing you to do the same thing on her. You oblige, not once closing your mouth as the two women take turns in having your lips around their cocks.
“Oh you poor thing,” Wanda cooed as tears began to stream down your face as you spluttered around her dildo for the second time, before Agatha grabs you and forces her cock into your mouth with a harsh thrust. The ache in your core growing and growing. “You needed two of us to take charge and put you in your place, didn’t you.” Despite Agatha's cock sliding further down your throat you manage to nod at Wanda's words.
“And this is your place, desperately sucking on Mommy and Daddy’s cocks before we fuck you with them.” Agatha jeers and the words make you choke and they stop. You sit against your heels again, a mixture of saliva and tears running down your face as you look up at both of them who just look so unbelievably satisfied with themselves. They’d almost broken you.
You get pulled back up onto the bed, forced onto your front so your head is buried in the pillows that had fallen out of place into the middle of the bed. Wanda shifted behind you, swinging a leg over your own and steadying herself with a hand against your back. Agatha walks around the side of the bed, sitting against the end, right next to where your head was lying.
Slick fingers pressed into your asshole again, Wanda was relatively careful, checking with you over and over that you could take her fingers with relative ease before the blunt head of her toy pressed against your rim.
“Don’t be shy.” Wanda encouraged, looking at how your face was being pushed into the pillows.
“Daddy wants to see your face when she fills up your ass.” Agatha snarked from above and as much as you rolled your eyes, there was no getting away from it as two fingers pressed under your chin and she forced you to look directly into her eyes.
The slightest increase against your asshole and you were fighting Agatha’s grip, not able to keep eye contact, but she was firm on you looking at her as Wanda’s hand groped at your asscheek, spreading you even wider so she could see you stretch around the tip of her cock.
Wanda pressed deeper, but not by much. Her hands wrapped around your hips, caressing the skin while her cock rocked gently.
“More please Mommy.” You grunt, pressing your ass back to heighten the intensity. You met Agatha’s smirk and with a few more gentle rocks you whined at the feeling of her hips pressed against your ass, the way her strap stretched around you, and the clench of your empty pussy. There was a temptation to bury your face into the pillows, but you’d never seen Agatha’s eyes light up the way they were right now.
“Tell Daddy how much you like it when Mommy fucks you like this.” Wanda gasps, wrapping her hands around your hips, working her cock steadily until there was no stretch to speak of, just the rhythmic shift of her.
“I love it when Mommy fucks me like this.” You stutter through breathy moans, but there was a reason Agatha had started moving towards you and you knew what was coming.
You were aware of how your cunt was dripping onto the sheets, your spread knees meaning it had no stimulation whatsoever as Wanda fucked your other hole. Agatha kneed her way closer, “Look at you, this is the sluttiest I’ve ever seen you.”
You whine as you let their hands coax you up until you are sandwiched between them. Your back arched, pressing your bare chest against Agatha as she pushed the pillows out of the way. One hand held her shoulder, the other reaching back to feel Wanda's strong grip on your hip as she kept her gentle rhythm.
“You’re dripping you fucking whore.” Agatha sneered, teasing your opening with her fingers. Her grin was wolfish and unforgiving.
“Daddy.” You panted.
Her fingers pulled back to circle over your drowned clit, just the slick slip of her skin against yours was driving you insane. She was drinking in the desperate buck of your hips as the head of her cock brushed past your folds as Wanda kept a tight grip of you as she fucked your ass.
“Please Daddy, I wanna be full, I want both of you inside of me-”
Before you can finish begging, Agatha guides her strap into your entrance and your eyes roll to the back of your head, your skull resting back on Wanda’s shoulder as Agatha works her way inside of you, both of them finding the same rhythm with each other.
“You’re so lucky to have both of us, you know that right?” Wanda pants as she watches in awe at the way your body trembled as both women thrust inside of you at the same time.
“Fuck yes.” You gasped.
You could barely breathe, you could’ve cried at the sensation. Not fast or aimed enough to be pleasurable, but deep enough to make you crave them both. Every shift of Agatha’s cock inside of you was a reminder of the other one.
“You act like a whore you get treated like a whore, is that why you did this?” Agatha asks, leaning down between thrusts to lick at your nipples teasingly while her hand dipped between your legs and kindly circled your clit. You nod, earning you a swift sharp thrust into your pussy making you whine in pleasure as they sped up their adjoined rhythm. “You’re nothing but our filthy whore, this is what you deserve, this is what you were made for, having all your holes filled like this.”
“I’m so full.” You whined, feeling the low thrum of an orgasm approaching, but every time you felt it you couldn’t chase it because of a different sensation on your body.
“Not full enough.” Agatha growled into your skin, her fingers tracing your lips before you allowed her in, your tongue immediately sucking at her fingers. “My god, you’re so fucking dirty.” She breathed, looking at the way your body was crumbling under the pressure. Agatha held your hips and started bucking up harder into you and you keened at the rough treatment, but once Wanda matched the relentless pace, the feeling had your eyes squeezed shut.
“You let us do whatever we want to you. Good little girl.” Wanda praised as you kept getting louder and louder, no longer caring what you sounded like. They were both working in and out, but once Agatha’s fingers found your clit again and rubbed tight pressured circles against it, you felt your body untense as the pain subsided and all you could feel was an intense amount of pleasure. But it was too much, there was no way you would ever catch up to the orgasm that kept building and fading.
“We’re not going to stop. You can be a good whore and come on our cocks now, or you can take it for another hour, we can do this all day.” Agatha spat, getting impatient with your disobedience, but Wanda traced love hearts on your back and the combination of the two relaxed you.
“Breathe, just take it honey.” Wanda whispered, and it took a second for your brain to kick into gear again, to fight the fuzziness that was stopping your orgasm.
“Oh fuck Mommy I’m-” You gasped, “Daddy please can I-”
“Oh I know.” You could hear the smile on Wanda’s face.
“You better come like a filthy little whore all over our cocks,” Agatha ordered, rocking you up and down until your brain went blank and the sheer height of it took over. “Now.”
You felt like you were there forever, eyes squeezed shut, nails dug into both womens arms. After a few more thrusts and circles of your clit, it all crashed down. Burning hot pleasure ripped up your spine in controllable waves, the heat between your legs spreading everywhere. They didn’t pull out until you were jerking violently, painfully aware of how tight you were clenched around you.
They gave you a minute before warning you that they were pulling out and you fell against the mattress in a pathetic sweat, your body shaking as the two women took off their harnesses and sat enveloping you between them.
Agatha was the first to get you water, her harsher techniques meaning her aftercare was incredibly important to her. She helped you sip it slowly while Wanda cradled you in her arms.
“You know we’re thankful you were two timing us, right?” Agatha laughed, kissing your sodden forehead, brushing your wet hair from your face.
“So wait, I don't have to choose?” You say in a thankful shock, leaning into both women.
“Haven’t we just proved you can have both of us.” Wanda said, her head cocked to the side and her eyebrow raised as the flush of your cheeks.
“Like we said, you’re ours now.” Agatha smirked, twirling your hair around her fingers. “Come on let's get you cleaned up.”
