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sc0tters · 8 months

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The Best Favour Yet | Owen Power

summary: Kent asks Owen to help you settle in when you move to Buffalo, that favour ends up being the reason for some of your favourite memories with the love of your life.

request: yes/no

warnings: some allusions to sex.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: this request made me laugh because it literally said Owen dating Kent’s sister and all the chaos that would entail. Started writing this as a regular oneshot but I hated it so I’ve just made it a 5+1.

Kent never planned on this.

When he asked Owen to keep an eye on you once you got accepted at Buffalo State University. Kent never once let the thought of you falling for one of his best friends.

1. ❝he’s like totally harmless.❞

to PowPow 🔫: thanks for checking in with y/n I appreciate it

to y/n 👾: remember Owen is like totally harmless!

You were nervous to meet the boy, sure you had spoken to Owen in person before but it was never by yourself. Usually Kent was around for those moments as he didn’t want to let any of the guys think that they could have the chance to make a move on you.

Once they reached sophomore year you were merely just a name to them though as you were going to university in Florida.

A year of that was more than enough and you had transferred to Buffalo for your sophomore year.

But as the cold Buffalo breeze chilled your face as you clutched the sides of your jacket you began to lose hope “y/n!” Owen called out as he recognised your stature from anywhere.

Owen would never admit it but he did have the tiniest of crushes on you that he felt in his freshman year the first time he met you “hi Owen.” You smiled as you spun around to face him.

You looked up at him as he gave you a hug “I’ve got a few different restaurants in mine so whatever you-” the hockey player began to ramble as he didn’t realise that his nerves were showing.

It took you giving his hand a squeeze for him to calm down “you’re the local, I trust you Owen.” You nodded as you sent him a serious look to show that you were down for anything.

And that night you laughed so hard your stomach hurt and you even managed to make eating pizza look good because Owen looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

2. ❝you’re a sabres fan now,❞

You had to say that you were surprised that it took Owen three weeks before he invited you to a Sabres game. Every time the game was in Buffalo you’d watch from your dorm window as fans lined the road up to the KeyBank Center.

So as you stood in the waiting area with WAGs and other members of the players friends and families you couldn’t help but wish you were back there in the comfort of your dorm.

Sure the people were nice but you weren’t one of them, you were meant to be a simple college kid “you made it!” Owens cheer pulled you out of your thoughts as he wrapped his arms around you.

The older players watched on in amusement as they pieced together why the umich alumni seemed so loved up over the past month “wouldn’t miss this for the world,” you smiled as him still having his skates on meant that you had to tilt your head up further to look at him.

He swore he was on cloud nine when he realised you were wearing the jersey that he had given you just days prior “you like the outfit?” You asked as you did a little spin so he could see your outfit in its whole.

Owen sucked at his teeth as he tried to remain calm seeing Power on your back “you’re a sabres fan now you know that right?” He teased as he had seen all of the Blue Jackets memorabilia from Kent that decorated your side of your dorm.

You shrugged as you ran your fingers through your hair “I’ve been called worse if I’m honest.” You joked causing him to let out a laugh.

A lightbulb seemed to go off above his head “you gotta meet the rest of the boys!” Owen wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into the direction of more of his teammates.

3. ❝too good for this world,❞

On Tuesdays if you had late lectures Owen would pick you up and you’d spend the evening at his. Each time you’d take turns being head chef when it came to making meals.

This particular Tuesday it was your turn and you were making spaghetti bolognaise “Power don’t you dare!” You could see the smirk on his face as he leaned against the counter behind him.

Owen laughed as you continued to watch the pasta boil “I’m not doing anything.” He raised his hands in surrender as he pushed himself off of the counter as he walked over to you.

You scoffed as you shook your head “I can see it in your eyes that there is something up there.” You pointed to his head causing him to smile.

His hands landed on either side of you “are they telling you that I think you’re beautiful?” Owen asked letting his voice act like a gentle hum over the sound boiling pasta water.

Warmth spread over your cheeks as you tried to bury your face in his chest “I’m serious!” He laughed as his hands cupped your cheeks so he could continue to look at him.

Your tongue danced over your teeth “why me?” You let the question you had been wondering for weeks finally come out.

Owens cold thumb cooled your face as it softly rubbed circles on your cheek “because you’re perfect y/n,” the hockey player hadn’t told you about how he truly felt before.

He sighed when you shook your head “I wish you’d see that you’re too good for this world sweets.” Owen confessed as he let his head drop so that his lips barely hovered over your own.

The air around you went silent “what about dinner?” You statement had to be pushed out of your lips.

It made Owen smirk “I can be done before that pasta is ready.” He proposed as he turned the heat down a setting.

That seemed to be all you needed to carry on “let’s not waste anytime then.” You shrugged before his hand was on your jaw letting him kiss your lips.

4. ❝I’ll count to three,❞

It had been two months since you started dating Owen. Besides for your close friends nobody else knew and that was because you two didn’t know how to tell Kent.

Your brother knew you had a boyfriend because you had been in the process of soft launching your relationship on Instagram, but all of those questions were met with coy answers.

So when the long awaited day came around when the Blue Jackets were playing in Buffalo you knew you had to tell your brother.

But that morning when your mind was full of clouds as you were still half asleep you didn’t think twice when you opened the door to Owens apartment in nothing more than one of his shirts.

Kent on the other hand was shocked to see his sister stood in his friend’s apartment “where is Owen?” He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

That was what seemed to wake you up “oh Ken-” you stammered over your words as your eyes widened “babe who is there?” Owen called out from the kitchen.

You couldn’t rack your brain for what to say “it’s Kent!” That seemed to get the right response out of Owen as he came out to the entryway.

The Blue Jackets player really didn’t know what to do “you just called my sister babe?” Kent honestly zoned out once he heard you get that title.

Owen could see the upset look on his friends face “let’s just talk about th-” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “I’ll count to three because I like you.” Kent cut him off as he walked into the apartment.

You let your lips swirl in as your eyes went wide “baby?” Owen looked to you for help as Kent got to one “run and lock a door.” You proposed as your brother got to two.

Part of you watched in amusement as Owen ran to the end of the hall when Kent got to three.

5. ❝wrapped around her finger,❞

Kent loved you, truly you were his little sister that he wanted to protect in bubble wrap. So it wasn’t surprising that it took him four months to be okay with the idea of going on holiday with you and Owen.

That was until your brother was reminded of the fact that you were going to be sleeping in a bed with your boyfriend.

Quickly the relaxing holiday turned into one that he didn’t get sleep in “morning baby,” you smiled as you found your boyfriend stood in the kitchen making coffee.

Owen was quick to swipe away from you “I brushed my teeth,” you pointed out as you smelt your breath wondering if that was the problem “what if he sees?” Owen whined as he still seemed to be scared of Kent’s threats “they are both still sleeping.” You grumbled as you pouted your lips not enjoying the fact that your boyfriend was ignoring you.

That was a sight that Owen truly couldn’t say no to so he placed the coffee mug down on the counter causing you to smile “always getting what I want,” you pointed out.

Owen nodded “my baby got me wrapped around her finger for days.” He never did seem to mind admitting that you just how whipped he was.

Your hands wrapped around his waist “think you should show me that then,” you proposed as just as his lips touched yours Kent had to walk in “I do not need to be made an uncle on this trip please?” He begged as he scrunched his face in disgust even once you had pulled away from Owen.

A laugh left your lips “but wouldn’t we be such cute parents daddy?” You let the words fall out of your mouth like butter.

Both Owen and Kent’s eyes went wide. Of course your boyfriend could see the mischievous look on your face and it clearly meant you were doing this to screw with your brother “you’ve got two seconds to get your hands off of-” Kent didn’t even need to finish his sentence before Owen listened and took two steps away from you.

A frown formed on your face “you’re no fun,” you mumbled as you looked at the Sabres player.

“it’s hard to be when you’re trying to get me killed!

+ 1 ❝what’d you say?❞

The last three years had been a whirlwind, whilst you hadn’t made Kent an uncle just yet you and Owen had your fair share of pregnancy scares that you both agreed were secrets you’d take to your grave.

With each day that went by you found yourself falling deeper in love with him. You had the house, the pets, and the love so there was only really two things left on that checklist.

Bless Owen for being clueless but you spent the last three months trying to hint at the wedding ring you liked but that seemed to just fall on deaf ears.

So now you took matters into your own hands as you watched him get ready for boys night “baby,” you sang as you were sat on your bed watching him pick an outfit for tonight.

Owen continued looking through his clothes as he smiled “yes?” He asked wondering what it was that you wanted to ask him “I want to marry you.” You announced as you swung your legs against the frame of your bed.

You had truly never seen him stop what he was doing that fast before “what’d you say?” Owen looked like he had seen a ghost as he walked over to you.

It made you confused “just said I wanted to marry you.” You shrugged as you watched him lean over to his bedside table drawer as he pulled out a velvet box “was gonna ask you this weekend.” He pointed out as he revealed what looked like the ring of your dreams.

A gasp left your lips “you were?” You knew he was taking you on a mini trip to Canada so that you two could go stay in the mountains for a week as it was the start of the off season.

He nodded as he sat next to you “pretty sure I can take this as a yes then?” Owen joked as he placed a kiss to your temple seeing the tears form in your eyes.

You smiled as you let out a sniffle “don’t get it twisted I asked first!”

#owen power #Owen power imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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yelena-belovas-gun · 3 months

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Don't You Dare (Maya Lopez)

Summary: One day, when you walk in on Maya interrogating someone, you show a side of yours which even she has never seen before.

Maya Lopez x shapeshifter!female!reader Note: Reader is slightly chubby, but that's not an affecting factor in any way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't walk in on something you don't want to see.

Something both you and Maya had established when you both first started dating. However, as you got more involved in her mafia work, that rule got more and more flimsy by the day.

Especially today.

You were a very gentle person by nature, despite being a shapeshifter. Maya had to admit that everything about you was soft and gentle. From the way you were built to the way you signed, there was a certain amount of care and lightness to the way you existed in general.

Recently, Maya found a traitor in her midst. Whichever now-former Tracksuit was stupid enough to do so was now in front of her, being beaten up by the other members of the crew.

"Stop," she signed, her brow raised. "Let him go."

The man was bruised, bloody, and beaten in to the point where he would've probably died if she hadn't asked the others to stop. She stepped in front of the traitor and signed, "What exactly were you thinking? That you wouldn't get caught?"

Ivan, her new second-in-command, translated for her.

The man's face contorted, giving away that he was frowning. As he spoke, Ivan translated appropriately and a bit hesitantly as the man replied, "This mafia needs a capable leader."

"Capable?" Maya asked, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "Elaborate."

"You can't hear a damn gunshot from right next to you, how will you manage a mafia?" The man asked. "You're running on luck."

Maya was about to smack him in the face, but Ivan signed for her to stop. You were standing at the doorway, with what looked like murder in your eyes.

"Y/n, please, the rule-" Maya signed, looking at you pleadingly, but you stopped her.

"The rule can go fuck itself in the ass," you signed, looking more furious than ever.

Maya's eyes widened at the way you signed so aggressively. It was the exact opposite of how you usually spoke. Your hand movements were always calm and fluid, like a gentle stream which formed the words easy on her eyes. But now your movements were sharp and quick as a blade, and your normally smiling eyes held a glimmer which even she hadn't seen in the last two years of dating you.

You spoke, while Ivan translated. When you moved through the crowd of men, they immediately stepped back, scared for their lives, in all likeliness.

"What did you just say?" You asked the man, glaring at him. Maya stepped back, now intrigued. She found this side of you to be very interesting and a bit turning on, to be honest.

"I said that she can't even hear a gunshot from next to h-" before the man could finish his statement in all its disrespect, you grew sleek claws on your fingers and slashed them down his face, earning a scream of agony.

Maya couldn't hear it, but she could definitely see the volume of it.

"How dare you," you hissed, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him so hard that one of his lose teeth from the prior beating fell to the floor with a soft 'tink'. "How dare you disrespect a woman of authority with such disgusting words?"

"She ain't my boss!" He scoffed, but immediately regretted it when you bared your teeth, having morphed them into the sabre teeth of a lion. It made your gums ache and burn, but it was worth seeing the pain on his face.

"She ain't your damn boss, but she sure as hell's got more personality than you ever will," you hissed. "Apologise to her right now, or I swear to god, you will regret it."

"Never! I don't need to respect some mute woman, she can't even hear what I have to say!" The man protested, lamely. Clearly he wanted to keep the macho façade up, but it was getting harder under each passing second beneath your gaze.

"Fine," you rolled your shoulders, stepping back. "But you won't be able to breathe till I hear you apologise."

In a second, a huge kodiac bear stood where you had once been, and it terrified the man, to be frank. You grabbed him by the neck and tossed him up before slamming him down into the ground with not even a fourth of your newfound strength. However, it was enough to keep him gasping for air and struggling under your paws as you pressed him down harder.

You never used your powers to hurt others. You'd either turn into a cuddly panda to give Maya comfort, or into a chimpanzee to get something from the top shelf. But you never shapeshifted to inflict harm.

You opened your jaws wide and bit down hard on his shoulder, making the bone nearly shatter under your iron bite. He cried out in absolute agony, and screamed out a loud, 'i'm sorry', when you decided to let go of him. You let him breathe again and unhinged your jaws from his shoulder, which now looked beautifully broken and dislocated.

You felt a gentle hand on your arm, which stroked your earthy brown fur affectionately, and you looked down to see Maya smiling up at you. She moved her hand away to speak, "Calm down, my love."

You breathed and shifted form back to a human, but your teeth, as usual, stayed sharp and pointed, and it hurt your mouth a lot. Blood from when you had bitten the man stained your teeth and lips, while your fingers had more blood beneath them.

"He'll give you the answers you want, now," you smiled. As Maya came in to kiss you, you kept her back with a gentle push to her shoulder. "No, kisses right now," you signed, before winking and gesturing at your bloodstained mouth.

To compensate, she pressed a quick and shy kiss to your forehead before you glared at the now whimpering traitor and walked out.

At home, you were exhausted. However large or small your animal would be, you'd always feel deadly tired after shapeshifting. So you were laying on the couch, just scrolling through your phone with the lights dimmed slightly to be comfortable on your sensitive eyes.

You heard the door close, and felt Maya kiss the top of your head.

"You got your answers?" You signed, looking up at her with a smile.

She arched a brow at you, "Are we not going to discuss what happened earlier? The bear thing?"

You felt your ears burn red with a bit of shame as you sheepishly signed, "I lost my cool, I'm so sorry. He disrespected you and I got a bit annoyed..."

She chuckled and signed with a playful twinkle in her eye, "'Annoyed'? You got furious."

"Shut up," you blushed. "It wasn't like me, I'm-"

Before you could sign 'sorry', she grabbed your hands. She wanted you to pause for a moment. She carefully moved her hands away from yours and signed, "It was genuinely the hottest thing I have ever seen you do. And imagine, I have seen you naked."

You blushed a bright red at her words, and signed back, "Maya, what the hell?"

She giggled softly and replied, "I've never seen you lose it before. Why did that happen?"

"Because..." you paused, hands stilled in that one position as you slowly signed out the right-ish words for how you were feeling, "...I care about you. A lot. And it hurts me to see some stupid man disrespecting you when you've worked damn hard to gain the power you have today. It hurts me to see you go through so much every single day, and men like that just...dismissing you because of one thing you lack."

Maya watched you patiently, waiting for you to finish. This was one thing you loved about her; her willingness to listen, even if she couldn't physically do so. She always made sure you knew you had her attention, and would accordingly respond to you.

"I can handle myself," she smiled, "but I appreciate how much you care about me. You looked adorable, by the way."

"I'm sorry, though," you signed, looking down a bit ashamed.

"Don't be," she signed, before gently tilting your head up by putting a hand under your chin. You noticed how close she was to you. You could se every detail of her face, from the way her brows were so perfectly arched, to her deep brown eyes holding every emotion that even words couldn't describe, and to her soft lips, which were now curved into the slightest of amused smiles.

"Aggressive or not, you stood up for me, and I will always appreciate that," she signed, her eyes gleaming a bit with genuineness. "I love you so much, and it warms my heart to see how much you care about me."

You didn't reply as the words from her elegant hands didn't just strike a chord within you. It composed a whole symphony.

You grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a tight hug, tucking your face into her neck as you mumbled. She didn't need to see your hands moving to know what you had to say. You'd whispered those three, four words against her skin enough number of times for her to judge the way your lips moved, and how the vibrations felt against her skin.

"I love you too."

THE END.

#maya lopez x reader #maya lopez #echo x reader #echo #marvel #wlw #deaf representation #alaqua cox #female reader

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inlovewithgreta · 18 days

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Fencing Master - Joan Ferguson x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Your fencing lesson takes a surprising but welcoming turn.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Dom!Joan, Sub!Reader, degradation, age gap, praise, glove kink, semi-public sex, squirting, swearing, slight size kink?

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Ugh- Fuck!" you groaned, letting your sword fall dramatically to the ground in defeat. "This is such bullshit," you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're weak," a lowered crisp voice responded, long dark locks of black and grey stray hairs falling from your fencing partner's messy braid as she took her protective helmet off to scold you. "You're not shifting your weight properly, and your arms are like noodles." She grabbed your limp arm to prove her point.

"I'm doing what you taught me!" You tore your own helmet off, letting your gaze meet the darkened eyes of the woman in front of you.

"Not good enough. You're better than this," she stated. "Let's go again." She demanded, putting her helmet back on, and gripping her fencing sabre tightly with her dark, leather gloves.

Your eyes fell to her hand after hearing her leather grip, before letting out a deep breath and fixing your own helmet back onto your head. It was hard to ignore the beads of sweat along your forehead, after all, the two of you have been at this for hours.

After the sparring began again, you were quicker on your feet, planning your movements before attacking. But Joan was quicker. More advanced. More thought-through. She knew what you were doing before you even did it. Joan knew how you worked, how your brain thought.

She quickly picked up on it, and as soon as she felt your confidence grow, letting you think you were going to win, your movements becoming almost too predictable, she lunged at you. Her movements caught you off guard and you tripped over your own foot. Joan was quick to catch your hand but wasn't quick enough and was pulled down with you, both of you falling with synchronized grunts.

"What the fuck was that?" You huffed, tearing your mask off once again and tossing it beside you, too shocked by your fall to realize Joan had fallen on top of you.

"It's sad, really. How I know your every thought. Every move. It's pathetic. I thought I trained you better than this. To lead with your body, not with your mind. Your body knows best." Her own mask flew elsewhere, gloved hands sitting just beside your head as she talked down to you.

"Maybe I just need a better teacher," you seethed, gritting your teeth and letting out a much needed sigh.

"Or maybe you just need another lesson," she sternly stated, using a hand to undo the velcro holding her top together to allow herself breathe easier.

Joan caught the glimpse you stole from her neck to her chest that were coated in small beads of sweat, and took it upon herself to test the waters even more. After all, she did know you better than you even knew yourself.

"You must learn to control your body. Control your thoughts." A gloved hand slipped to your neck, the cold, leathery feel sending a chill down your spine and your body to shiver under her touch that didn't go unnoticed. "Do you think I haven't caught onto you? Your not-so-subtle glances in my direction. That pathetic little doe-eyed look you give me when I praise you. The hunger in your eyes when I degrade you. It's quite obvious what direction your mind goes in." Her knee slid between your inner thighs, forcing a quiet moan from you. "You're liking this, aren't you, little one?"

Your breathing was shaky as you laid in awe, hyper fixating on the leathery material wrapped around your neck and the knee that pressed roughly against your core. When you didn't respond, Joan squeezed her hand on your throat tighter.

"Answer me," she demanded. Lips hovered just mere inches above your own, and the smell of her musky perfume mixed with the leathery gloves were driving you mad.

"Y-yes, Miss Ferguson," you whimpered. Innocent eyes gazed at her with longing, and a dark, seductive undertone that the older woman was craving from you.

"Joan," she said. "You may call me Joan, but only when we are like this. Around others I am still your teacher, your superior. Got it?" She lifted a brow.

"Yes, Miss— Joan," you corrected yourself.

"Good girl. Now are you ready for your next lesson?" A smirk toyed at her tight lips at how easy this all was. You were always her best student. So quick to learn, so eager to do better, so... hungry for her validation, and Joan just wanted nothing more than to feed you it.

Her best student. Her neediest student. Pinned beneath her with a flushed face. Hair sprawled beautifully out around your head. Those lips parted, inviting her in. And those eyes. Fuck... Looking up at her through those curled wispy lashes. How someone like you could be so pure yet so filthy all at the same time. How someone half her age could possibly find her attractive, but she wasn't about to complain.

"Mhm," you nodded your head. "I'm ready for you to teach me about..?" you trailed off, with puppy dog eyes, expecting her to finish your sentence for you.

"Don't be stupid." You squirmed at her words, Joan's hand leaving your neck to unzip and rid you of your protective fencing top, with the help of you lifting your body to slide it off with ease. "You know exactly what I'm going to teach you, don't you? Or do I need to stop what I'm doing and teach you a lesson about listening first?" She gave a faux pout, retracting her hands all-together.

"No- please, Joan!" You instinctively grabbed her leather covered hand, and returned it to your neck, where it had since grown cold from her missing touch. Your expected urgency to keep her going forced a small chuckle from the older woman. "Teach me about control. P-Please. Help me control my body. I need it. I need you, Joan. Please teach me." Your hips bucked with desire, needing her knee to push your button harder.

"You're pathetic, dear." She admitted with a lick to her lips that your eyes followed. "But that's a lesson for another day." Her mouth crashed into yours, leaving you breathless. Her kisses were passionate. Hungry. Demanding. Tongue completely dominating your own, completely expected on both of your ends.

One of your hands grabbed roughly at her top, pulling her unimaginable closer while the other went to her hair. More specifically, her braid. Fingers wrapped around the messy strands and pulled, earning the most subtle moan from the woman.

As much as she liked it, you weren't the one in charge. This was a lesson. And you needed to be taught. She couldn't lose control. Not now. Not today.

She grabbed your wrist tightly, pulling away from her hair but still allowing you to touch her, leaving your hand atop her own that stayed holding onto your throat. This moment was about you, not her.

After repositioning herself to a straddling position, the loss of her knee against your core cause a whimper to escape, missing her touching your needy center.

"So disappointing..." she said with a frown, allowing you both to catch some much needed air. "Can't even reposition myself to better aid your lesson without you whining like a needy little slut." Her hand strained against the leather glove on your neck, wanting to squeeze tighter but having to refrain herself in fear of pushing you too far too fast.

"I'm sorry—" you were cut off by a finger pressed to your lips. "Don't you dare apologize. You do not apologize for that. You own it. Own up to what you are. Let me hear you say it. Say what you are." Her dark eyes gazed at you expectedly, awaiting a response. The correct response.

"I-I'm a needy little slut," you let out a shaky breath, finding it hard to read your fencing master's expression after your admission. Those words, however, helped the damp patch between her legs grow even more. She could get off on those words alone.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it? Hmm?" She planted a rewarding kiss to your plump lips as her hand trailed down to your pants. You mumbled a 'no' as velcro was undone, zipper went down, and your hips lifted as you shimmied out of your fencing uniform entirely. All that covered you was a thinly cropped white tank top, and a pair of fitted shorts that just barely covered your ass.

Joan held back a groan at your tinier figure. She was much bigger than you. Much stronger. Much more dominating. The idea of her much thicker, longer fingers, filling you had her heart thudding rapidly in her chest with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see how many fingers you could take. And you were thrilled to find out for yourself.

"Joan..." you faintly whispered the older woman's name as her lips made their way to your neck. "Need you.. so bad..please! I've been doing so good for you. So—so good," you begged her as she left marks along your neckline, soothing her bites with a gentle tongue.

Feeling generous to your pleas, Joan allowed a single hand to roam down the center of your chest, purposely ignoring your breasts as she ran her hand lower. The ticklish spot just below your navel etched into her memory when you let out a very audible hum and your belly twitched beneath her wandering fingers.

"Will you continue to be good for me?" she asked, allowing her hand to skim beneath your waistband but stopping purposely just before reaching your center.

"God- yes, Joan! I'll be so good. Such a good girl for you, just fuck me. I'm begging you. I need you." Her mouth returned to yours, hovering just close enough to your lips.

"I don't hear a please..." she tutted, fingers just barely grazing your clit.

"Please—" words were cut short when you let out your first sinful moan at her fingers circling your precious bundle of nerves. Joan loved that noise coming from you, telling herself she would do whatever it took to keep you going.

Her leather-clad fingers worked wonders as she occasionally pressed harder against your button that forced your hips to grind against the dominating woman's hand.

"Oh, Joan! Just like that," your eyes fluttered shut but the ravenette ceased her fingers. "Keep those eyes open, my little whore. I want to see you."

Your eyes glistened as you reopened them, gaze fixating on Joan's dark, hooded eyes, all color completely gone at her dilated pupils. "That's my good girl. Such a good listener for me."

"Joan...I- I'm gonna...." Your body twitched as you felt your nearing release. The woman above you smirking before shoving two digits inside your pussy, that clenched around her.

"Not yet...Fuck, you're so tight.." she moaned at your restricted walls as she began fucking you with her fingers. The new sensation drove you wild. Her fingers were rather large, more slender, and more skilled than yours. "This little pussy belongs to me now, yes?" She asked, raising her usual eyebrow.

"Y-yes, of course!" You shook your head with a cry when her fingers dove deeper and skillfully rubbed the soft-spongy spot that had your pussy fluttering around her digits.

"Say it. I need you to say it," she pinched your hardened nipple between her thumb and pointer finger, eliciting a hearty moan from you. "Say it or you don't get to come." The pain mixed with pleasure fills you with euphoric madness.

"My pussy is yours...All yours, Joan! I p-promise it's only yours from now on..." You felt dirty at the own words coming out of your mouth but at the same time have never been more turned on.

"That's what I like to hear. You're mine now. Only I get to fuck and stretch this tight pussy of yours. Only me..." She forcefully took your lips with hers, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth before shoving her tongue in your mouth.

Your walls clenched unimaginably tighter, making it harder for Joan's fingers to fuck you but she was relentless, ensuring you would get the release you were craving.

"Come for me, woman. Let me feel you." She whispered against your lips, your loud moans being muffled by her ravenous mouth enclosing your own in a hungry kiss.

Her palm pushing against your clit was the last straw to have your body filling with immense heat as you fell over the edge. Your body shaking, breasts pushing into hers as your back arched from the ground, and fingers mindlessly digging into the back of her neck as you held her.

"Oh...oh fuck! Joan—" You cried out, wetness covered your inner thighs as you mindlessly squirted from the monstrous strokes coming from her leather coated fingers that didn't dare stop as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, let go...Come for me.." Her husky voice caused a guttural moan to fall past your lips. She went to go suck the flesh on your neck, but your fingers pulled at her hair, forcing her mouth to lavish yours once more. Needing her mouth on yours more than ever.

"Mmmph..." Your teeth clamping down onto the dominant woman's bottom lip forced a groan from the ravenette as your pussy clamped tightly around her digits that slowly removed themselves from you.

"Congratulations..." Joan smirked, tongue darting out to lick her now swollen bottom lip, tasting a familiar metallic liquid. It slightly stung from your harsh bite as you partially punctured her, but she found herself to be proud of what you've done. "You've passed your first lesson. It's remarkable what one can do if they just... listened.."

Your tired and hooded eyes couldn't help but roll at words, knowing she was completely right, but you didn't dare to admit it to her just yet.

After all, you still wanted another lesson.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | taglist

#joan ferguson #wentworth #pamela rabe #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #this took way too long #but i love it #I love dommy mommy joan

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schadentekkers · 1 year

Photo

#zack sabre jr #el desperado #njpw #zsj #mygifs #smiling through gritted teeth

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 5 months

Text

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - PROLOGUE

summary: the sabres host an end-of-season meal and tyson's not himself; some good-natured concern for a friend goes a long way...to martha's vineyard.

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, anxious tyson

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist | part one

“Oh.” The shock laced in your voice wasn’t entirely subtle. Neither was the way your brows practically buried themselves in the midst of your hairline at the sheer surprise of seeing the man on your doorstep, but, alas, nothing about this little relationship of yours was entirely usual.

Relationship – a little too affectionate to be friends, but not affectionate enough to be more.

There was a fine line, and you and Tyson were doing wonderfully at balancing on that precipice; as demonstrated in this very moment.

He was standing on your doormat, a gorgeous deep green chequered blazer slung over his arm, his fist clenched around something you couldn’t immediately see and an adorably hopeful smile on his face. It changed, though, when he saw you. Flickered, even.

Momentarily his eyes dropped down your figure, then zipped back up to your face, a slight flush of colouring now prominent in his cheeks as he cleared his throat and stepped up slightly. You’d been in the midst of changing into your dress when he’d turned up, which meant all you were wearing was a tight black satin slip that hugged your figure in a way that even had you questioning yourself in the mirror, because who was that person staring back at you?

You looked good, and a small part of you felt gratified taking note of the way that Tyson obviously agreed.

“Sorry for intruding,” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he couldn’t help but roam his eyes one more time over the sight before him, “But I just needed some–some help with the colours…” he trailed off, unfurling his closed fist to reveal a pair of rather expensive-looking silver cufflinks, but it was the trio of different ties hidden under his blazer that seemed to be the root of the issue.

You blinked, stifling an amused smile at the whole situation, because it was clear he’d come over unannounced with the intention of being invited in – and you were both still standing in your doorway (thank fuck it was fairly warm weather today) – and you would invite him in eventually.

It didn’t mean you weren’t about to give him a bit of shit for it, though.

Your eyes trailed over the ties now hooked through his fingers as he hastily stashed the cufflinks in the noticeably well-fitted trouser pockets, assessing the colours with some consideration.

There was a black one, a grey one, and a burgundy one.

In all honesty, you weren’t an expert on ties, at all. But in the very second you picked one up, something seemed to click.

You’d tried to ignore it for the sake of not wanting to be caught ogling the same man who’d worked his way up your list of close friends in the past couple of months, but after picking up a tie and moving with the intention of placing it against his shirt, you’d come to a deadend.

His shirt was short-sleeved; biceps gloriously tanned and nicely made up – which was precisely the issue.

“You’re wearing a polo shirt.” You raised your brows, a soft tie still in your hands when you folded your arms and looked straight at him.

And the fucker was smirking. And then he was just shamelessly grinning ear-to-ear, teeth slightly grazing over his bottom lip as though he had half the mind to not look so deranged and so proud of catching you out here – and all that seemed to conclude with a simple nod.

You bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to look a little pissed off by his antics, but you hadn’t been able to hold a straight face in front of Tyson since he spent his first night in Buffalo eating a takeout in your front room after EJ had given him your address. He’d been understandably devastated at the time, but you’d been the only person he knew in Buffalo and it seemed your friendly face eased him into the transition a little easier.

But that night excluded, you just couldn’t keep a serious facade in front of the man. There was just something so infectious about his entire demeanour that made it so difficult for you to do that.

You tried to glare at him, but you saw his eyes go to your cheek from where you’d bitten it to stop yourself from smiling, before they’d briefly flickered down to your chest from where you’d folded your arms, and you took that as an incentive to uncross them and actually use your words.

“You’re an idiot.” You rolled your eyes fondly, passing him the tie back as he took half a step backwards from the force of your shove and the unadulterated burst of laughter now ripping through the air placed him a little off balance.

He took your hand instead of the tie and you forced yourself to be normal about the way he used it as leverage to bring himself closer so he was eye-level with you, a step below your door.

“I know,” his laughter died down as he retreated his hand, instead winding the tie in your grip around his fingers, taking it from you, “but I just wanted to see you before we went out, that’s all.” He sighed, jaw clenching as the smile melted off his face for a brief second.

You shrugged, not wanting to think too much into why that just happened when you had approximately fifteen minutes to actually properly dress yourself and recheck you looked presentable, and although Tyson looked practically edible in that suit, you knew if he was within a seven metre radius that you’d break said time slot allocations, and that was the very last thing you needed if either of you had the intention of arriving on time at all.

“You’ve seen me.” You shrugged, but Tyson shook his head, apparently having none of it.

“Nah, I wanna see what you’re wearing.” He said defiantly, and before his gaze could travel south to the swell of your boobs and your bra, you snapped a finger in his face, causing him to blink in shock.

“Eyes are here.”

He swallowed, mouth parting as the tips of his ears reddened slightly. If it weren’t for his eyes you’d have thought he’d be embarrassed at having been caught, but Tyson had never not taken stuff like this in his stride.

Which is why he shrugged good-naturedly, a small smile curving at his lips, “I’m sorry for looking,” you could practically smell the lie emanate through his pores, “but they’re kinda, like, right in my face right now.”

You sighed, turning around before he could see the blush on your own cheeks (his shamelessness always managed to catch you off guard because he was usually so cheeky, and you honestly had no clue as to what brings this out when he talks to you, but you’d be lying if a part of you didn’t enjoy the attention – and a part of you would be lying if you didn’t enjoy it more because it was coming from him), and you left the door open behind you.

You didn’t even turn around to check if he’d followed you through and shut the door behind him because you’d practically rushed up the stairs – trying not to make yourself sweat after that interaction and the short burst of exercise – and into your bedroom.

The dress was on a hanger hung on the back of your bathroom door, and by the time you’d slipped it on, somehow managing not to muss up your hair in the process, you could hear Tyson’s heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs after you. It took all of five seconds for you to notice him enter the bathroom, see you putting on your jewellery and spritzing a last splash of perfume and slightly adjusting your makeup, and then promptly stop.

It was pretty violent, the way he halted, almost throwing himself back into the door.

The dress you’d picked was one you hadn’t had the chance to wear before, but it was sheer with a black floral pattern and fell to mid-calf. The neckline and because it also hugged your figure pretty tightly, it left as little to the imagination as the black slip did. In fact, it looked as though you were wearing a black slip with a pattern, and not much else.

Tyson didn’t move an inch from where he’d stopped, not even a hand to tuck back the curl that had flopped onto his forehead after the aggressive stop, not until you’d finished applying your lipstick and turned to him.

Not until you’d all but ignored him as you breezed past, the fresh spritz of your perfume sending his senses haywire as you did so.

Then he moved. He spun on his heel, mouth dry as he watched you go about your final routine, gathering bits and pieces from your other bags and purses and collating them in the one you’d decided to take to dinner tonight.

And fuck it if Tyson wasn’t currently trying to not look at you and simultaneously look at you. You looked breathtaking (though, you always did, even in hoodies and sweats), but his mind was a dangerous place, especially after harbouring this not-so-little crush on you and the whole flirting thing but never actually acting on it in the situation you’d got going on.

The dress left little to the imagination. Little to none, and he was having a hard time extinguishing the little flame that had ignited in his mind after he’d seen what you were wearing. For now, it was a thought, a simple idea of wow, I wonder how that dress would look if there was nothing underneath it. That thought was pretty harmless – he was just having trouble trying not to picture it.

And also looking at anything that wasn’t you because you looked divine. Divine, he thinks. He also wonders how the hell he’s supposed to let you sit next to EJ, your cousin, the entire night when you could be sitting next to him. He thinks that’d be more bearable than being on the other side of the table and able to look at you whenever he wanted to, because if you were sitting next to him, it’d be harder to look straight at you and therefore be held back – but if you sat next to him there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.

And that thought alone made something drop in his stomach. Words were fine, words were harmless, it was why you’d both resorted to the whole flirting thing, but touching was another thing in itself. Touching cemented unspoken feelings and hinted at other desires, and potentially allowed moments of wishful thinking and what-ifs, and that was something Tyson couldn’t afford to do. Not with you. Not only because you were EJ’s cousin, but because you were probably one of his closest friends.

It was also why, when you finally looked at him, cheeks flushed from the rushing around, he snapped out of his daze and readjusted his stance to a more casual one, one that didn’t scream you practically just floored me with your beauty and I just saw through space and time for a second, but whatever, no big deal or anything.

And why, when you asked “Do I look okay?” with a nervous expression on your face, as though his opinion mattered, answering with “Gorgeous.” came with zero hesitation before he was whisking the both of you downstairs and out of the door before the weight of his words could even begin to marinate in your head.

***

Tyson was being weird at the dinner. It was an end of season thing, and because Tyson had been traded to Buffalo before EJ had, it meant you’d known the team longer than your own cousin – which was a strange thought considering he played for them. So, naturally (you say that with hesitation), somehow you always seemed to get roped to come along with one or the other as a plus one if EJ or Tyson brought a date.

And despite EJ’s loud comments in your ear, it couldn’t quite distract you from the fact that Tyson had been uncharacteristically quiet on the other side of the table. In fact, he’d been quiet in the car after he’d insisted he’d drive you over to the restaurant instead of taking a taxi – it wasn’t uncommon, sometimes he wouldn’t talk unless you asked him questions, but it was weird considering the fact he’d been nothing but bubbly since he followed you inside your house.

It briefly crossed your mind that it was something you must have done to have him act like that, but he wasn’t one to offend easily, and you didn’t remember doing anything catastrophically hurtful towards him to warrant that kind of reserved reaction.

And because you’d known him for a while now, getting on a few years, you guessed it was probably his own brain keeping him quiet. He’d been chewing his lip every so often, fiddling with the cutlery in front of him and you’d also felt him shake his knee under the table. You hadn’t said anything in front of everyone, but you’d tapped the toe of his shoe gently with your own and flashed him a curious eye to which he’d shrugged and thrown a careless smile in your direction.

In fact, that nervous energy persisted throughout the entire meal. If anyone else noticed it, there wasn’t a comment; EJ was as oblivious as ever, gladly chatting away to Jeff, and you’d eventually swapped places with someone else so you could talk to Rachel. Even so, you didn’t stop checking up on Tyson – couldn’t help it really when each time you looked slightly to your right from looking at Rachel that it meant you’d be looking straight at Tyson over a couple of shoulders.

“Hey,” you found yourself taking the now empty seat on Tyson’s left, “are you ready to go, or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

He leant back against the chair, palms splayed across the tops of his thighs, and all it took was a sigh and a meaningful, tired blink for the both of you to be saying your goodbyes and heading out to his parked car.

He was still quiet.

“Are you okay?” You muttered, stepping up to his side.

There was something unreadable on his face as he turned to look at you; shock at having been caught – it was a possibility, but with the way he faltered and paused as though he was about to say something…you weren’t sure what to think or do.

What you weren’t going to do, though, was press on it. Especially because Tyson had never really been one to dwell on things for too long before saying something, so you weren’t particularly worried.

“Yeah.” He nodded, pressing his lips together, and you left it at that.

Then his hand disappeared in the pocket of his pants, and you assumed he’d gone to fish out his car keys, leaving the conversation at that (because, in all honesty, you didn’t entirely feel as though you had the right to pester and pester if he didn’t want to, and it briefly occurred to you that you were way overthinking the entire situation here), but he stopped on the sidewalk, grabbing your elbow to get your attention.

It was dark now, but you could still see him.

He looked nervous about something, but he was focusing on the small screen of his phone, fingers tapping quickly to find something. In the meantime, you let him have a bit of space, ignoring the urge to look over his shoulders to see what he was doing, but you had an inkling that this had something to do with his behaviour throughout the entire night.

“Um…” he started, taking a deep breath, before flipping his phone around to show you a chain of texts between him and Mat. You took the phone, eyes scanning over what was being said, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in particular. Mat was going on holiday, he’d asked Tyson if he wanted to go with him.

Tyson inhaled, and you looked up, unable to help the slight furrow in your brow, “Okay? It’s summer break,” you swallowed, entirely confused and a little concerned, “there’s no hockey.”

Silence.

Tyson scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, his hands on his hips, “Well, I spoke to Mat this morning, and he said he’s got a place at Martha’s Vineyard for him and Toni and he wants to know if I’d go with them.”

You cringed. Third wheeling Mat and Toni at Martha’s Vineyard of all places kind of seemed like a horrendous idea.

“He also said…Um,” his hands tapped on his thighs as he shot you some sort of desperate and frustrated look, like you weren’t managing to read his mind on what he was trying to say, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words as you cast your eyes back to the phone screen to reread it.

It was just an address, notes on the flight times and dates, and an open invitation of a room still left in the house they’d rented and Tyson hadn’t replied to that – it was where you were assuming the phone call occurred.

But a simple ‘oh’ to Tyson clearly meant something else because before you could even begin to think about it he’d spewed out more words, “I mean, you don’t have to go, I’d get it if you didn’t want to because there’s only one room and it’s Martha’s so it won’t be a twin room, which kinda means, well, y’know. Also third wheeling Mat and Toni doesn’t sound very appealing, so there’s that too.” He wasn’t rushing through your defence at all, more like calmly listing off reasons for you not to go so you didn’t have to.

“Martha’s Vineyard in August.” You muttered, shutting off his phone and handing it back to him. He ducked his head a little, trying to get a read on you, “August is, like, peak tourist season, right?”

You wanted to go. But Martha’s in August would absolutely wreak havoc on your bank account.

Tyson nodded softly, “It’s already been paid for. I’m not even paying for anything other than flights, sounds like they had a house and there was an extra room, that’s all.”

Well, that was that then.

“Okay.” You nodded, flashing an excited smile.

Tyson blinked, “Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you. I can book it off work, I’ve got enough holiday time. I’d have to go shopping, but I can work something out with Toni–”

“Even if we have to share a bed?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” You muttered sarcastically at the tone of his voice, “Do you sleepwalk or sleep-yell or something?”

He just stared.

“Do you not want me to go?” It had played across your mind, but you figured if he didn’t want you there, he’d have never bothered to ask in the first place. And the way he’d said it, it made it seem like it was Mat’s suggestion and that Tyson would never have thought to even invite you.

It wasn’t that deep, though. You guys were friends.

“No, no, I want you to go.” He breathed, tilting his head at you curiously, “I guess I just didn’t expect you to say yes.”

You pulled a face, “It’s a mostly free vacation to Martha’s, why would I say no?”

He pulled his mouth into a tight line, dumbfounded at your willingness, “Martha’s is pretty romantic.” Was all he said.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Thank fuck I’m not allergic to romance, then. Why are you so against me saying yes?”

“I’m not, I just – are you sure you want to spend an entire week with me?”

Your annoyance dimmed at that, something twanging in your chest at the self-deprecating doubt, “I’d love to spend an entire week with you.”

He swallowed, brown eyes widening fractionally. When he still didn’t say anything, you took it as an incentive to continue talking.

“Is that okay with you?”

He just nodded dumbly.

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #martha's is pretty romantic

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