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onabat11e · 3 months

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Hey! I know you’re not taking requests at the moment…but was just wondering if you’d ever write a fic (even if just a little blurb) about onas reaction to lucy in THAT outfit yesterday because god im obsessed!

ona would just send lucy this meme:

jokes aside, i wrote something short for this (thank you for the req)

rating: E for explicit (18+)

word count: 988 (tell me why i thought it would only be like 500)

Lucy: 1 attachment - time for the awards, miss u baby

Lucy sent a selfie of her in the mirror, showing off her outfit for The Best FIFA Football Awards. The blonde waves framed her face perfectly, showing off her small smirk and her chiselled jawline. Lucy slipped her phone away, needing to leave the dressing room to get ready to walk the green carpet.

Ona sat up in bed after hearing her phone vibrate. She looked over to see a new message from Lucy. She felt her abdomen tighten immediately at the stunning selfie she had been sent. She typed a reply before opening the photograph to get a better look.

Ona: do you even know what you do to me Luciaaaaa 😭

Ona zoomed into the photo, wanting to take in every detail of Lucy in that outfit. The vest perfectly displayed Lucy’s muscular arms and strong shoulders.

Her eyes wandered down Lucy’s arm, falling on the hand wrapped around her phone. Ona’s mind definitely did not start to imagine those fingers digging into her thighs as Lucy ate her out. And she definitely did not fantasise about the way those fingers would pump into her; the way her pussy would clench and cum around them, begging for more.

She could picture the exact way Lucy’s bicep would flex as she pumped two fingers into her heat. The mental images made Ona’s stomach twist, a throbbing pleasure starting to arise between her legs. She almost felt embarrassed at how quickly she got turned on from the photo alone. She swiped off to send more messages for Lucy.

Ona: that outfit is doing things to me

Ona: i need u so bad right now. so wet for you

Ona’s hand trailed down her torso, pulling her oversized t-shirt up over her midriff. Her hand dipped under her sweatpants, rubbing over the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply at the contact on her throbbing clit, feeling her body beg for more pressure.

She quickly kicked off her sweatpants, letting them fall off the side of the bed. Ona raised her phone, the camera app open, angling it so her now exposed abs and underwear were in frame. She slipped her hand under her waistband before pressing the capture button.

Ona: 1 attachment - wish u were here

Ona dropped her phone before she dipped a finger into herself. Breathing deeply at the sensation, she gathered wetness from her entrance, rubbing it up her folds before circling the tip of her clit. She made slow movements, teasing herself the way she knew Lucy would. Her body heated up as the desire spread throughout it and her pace began to increase at her own neediness.

Ona pushed a single digit into herself, feeling her walls flutter around it. Biting her lip, she let her mind wander again, thinking about how Lucy’s fingers would feel in her. She continued to work herself, her left hand fumbling at her phone to try and send another message to Lucy.

Ona: need ur fingers in me so bad. mine don’t feel as good :(

She added another finger, curving it as she pushed deeper inside herself. Her head fell back on the pillow, eyes shutting as she imagined the way Lucy liked to fuck her into the mattress. Her free hand slid under her shirt, palming against her breast. She squeezed her eyes shut, visualising Lucy’s eyes darkening as she looked up at her, tongue toying at her nipple. Her fingers clasped a nipple, thinking about how Lucy would use her teeth to playfully tug on the bud.

Ona’s hand continued to pump in herself, hips rocking to meet the thrusts. She increased her tempo, her left hand leaving her breast to play with her clit.

The circles were roughly rubbing against her sensitive area, her body trembling at her rapidly approaching peak. With a final squeeze of her clit, Ona fell apart, a moan of Lucy’s name falling off her lips as she slowed her movements.

Ona: just came thinking about how fine u are. i need u so bad right now baby

The fire in Ona’s stomach would not leave; she needed it to be Lucy between her thighs, not just her own hand. She fantasised about Lucy’s fingers deep in her, a warm mouth sucking her clit and cleaning up the cum leaking from her. She whined at the idea, fingers reaching down to play with her clit again.

Ona: tell me you get to keep that outfit. i cant stop thinking about all the things i want u to do to me

She already knew her second orgasm would come soon, still feeling sensitive from the first. She bucked against her hand, the coil tightening in her core once more. Two fingers slipped lower, pressing into herself with ease.

Her movements got harder, the palm of her hand pressing into her swollen clit with every thrust. Her thighs clenched around her hand, body shaking as she came again, her clit twitching under her hand as fingers curved inside her to guide her high.

Ona: pls baby i’m so needy rn. i came again but it’s not the same. i need ur mouth on me.

After the event had come to a close and all interviews had been done, Lucy was free to check her phone. She was shocked to see the number of notifications from her girlfriend.

27 new messages.

Lucy skimmed through the messages, feeling her face heat at the content of the messages. Her mouth went dry, looking at the numerous photos she had been sent of Ona touching herself and fucking herself.

She quickly checked that no one could read over her shoulder before typing out her replies to Ona.

Lucy: oh my god ona?!

Lucy: fuck that’s so hot

Lucy: can’t wait to get back to barca and taste u

Lucy:*see u. sorry idk what happened there ;)

#ona batlle #lucy bronze #luna #answered #my writing #drabbles #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #woso smut #i wanted to just put the meme but i started thinking about ona touching herself to lucy and um #yeah lol #if theres typos im so sorry but slay i finally posted smth again

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intelligentbees · 2 months

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Steve quietly helping a “finally at the end of his wick&burnt out” Tony out of his suit and into bed

The button was sticking to his fingers. It had to be. There was no other reason as to why the hell this was taking so long.

Tony looked down in confusion, observing his index and thumb as they battled to wrangle the slick white button out of its buttonhole. It wasn't going very well from the looks of it, which was strange, because he could've sworn he started to work at them almost as soon as he'd stepped through the door. That meant he'd been at it for at least 20 seconds now. This was not something that Tony could say he usually struggled with.

He watched his own fingers as they fiddled desperately at the contraption for a few more moments before, finally giving up and falling dejectedly onto the countertop. He could give that another go later, he figured. For now...

Well. Fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Blinking slowly, Tony attempted to orientate himself. He knew he was in the kitchen at the tower. He knew it was... well, Tony didn't quite know what time it was because the meeting with the Secretary of Defence had run over, but it was dark now. 11, maybe? He knew that there was probably something else he needed to get done before he could call it a night. His to-do list had only been growing since he started it at the beginning of the week, and they weren't the kinds of things you could put off until the next day. They were the kinds of things that, if left too long, could get people killed.

Right. Okay. He needed a refuel. A bagel, maybe. And a coffee. And then he would... yeah. The kit for Natasha. Top priority. She was heading out to Alaska tomorrow and her old suit had been torn to shreds in the debacle last Tuesday. So bagel, coffee, workshop. Bagel, coffee, workshop. Bagel-

"Could I suggest, sir, that you substitute your coffee and workshop plans for bed instead? It has been two days since you last achieved REM sleep."

Tony was quiet for a moment. He stared at the wall, and then glanced up to the ceiling slowly, a frown folding into his forehead.

"Did you just read my mind?" He asked JARVIS.

"No sir. I listened."

"Oh. I was speaking?"

"Indeed sir."

"Ah."

See, this was the slight problem that came with spending a week hopping straight from one obligation into another. He started to lose track of himself a little. The overuse of caffeine probably didn't help either. But it was that or fall behind, and he quite simply didn't have time to fall behind. At this point, he'd never catch back up again. He had to do more. Keep going.

So he chose to ignore JARVIS's advice, and instead reached a hand into the pack of bagels on the side. His mind whirred disjointedly as it tried to work through the current set of problems plaguing Stark Industries. The biggest issue was tied into the aforementioned meeting he'd just had with the Defence Secretary. As a general rule, Tony Stark and military personnel did not get on too well. They'd never gotten out of the sulk they fell into with him after his whole 'no more weapons' epiphany, which was just fine by Tony. They talked a lot of shit about him behind closed doors and, occasionally, in public meetings, but they were normally content to leave it at that.

Except now they'd gone ahead and appointed this new guy into one of the top brass roles, and his sole mission seemed to be wrangling Stark Industries back into the weapons business. By any means necessary.

Tony would come out victorious in this stupid little power play, obviously. This wasn't the first time a government official had used thinly-veiled threats and blackmail against him. It was, however, the first time the pressure had come right from the top of the chain. And it implied there was a wider cultural change in the ranks of the US Military, which meant Tony, The Avengers and Stark Industries were all going to have to tread more delicately if they wanted to weather the storm.

He sighed, gaze losing its focus for a few moments. In front of him, the toaster ticked away. The smell began to permeate the air. Tony realised he wasn't even sure he was hungry. He had been, a few hours ago, but the sensation had since faded when it realised it wasn't being listened to. Now he just felt hollow. Like someone had scooped out his brains with a melon baller. He realised he was swaying back and forth on his feet - a slow, repeated motion that was starting to make him feel dizzy. He told himself to be still.

The bagel popped out of the toaster, and it was only then that Tony remembered there were extra steps to this process. Butter. And a knife. He needed both. Hopefully his hands would be able to handle this one.

Turning on his heel, he headed over to the fridge, because he was 90% sure that was where they kept the butter these days - but as his hips swivelled to the left, he felt himself bump against something that had not previously been in the kitchen. It was firm, but soft. Warm. It smelled familiar.

Tony was staring in mild surprise at the chest in front of him, and it took a moment before he realised that that wasn't where you were supposed to look when you bumped into people. And Steve was a stickler when it came to being polite, so he promptly lifted his gaze.

"Hi," he told Steve. This, he thought, was an appropriate thing to say - not too much, not nothing at all, just right. "I'm making a bagel."

Steve, however, didn't seem to care much about the bagel. He didn't even look at it when Tony gestured over to it, which was unusual, because Steve was a very food-oriented man. Instead, Steve was staring down at Tony, a strange kind of intensity in his eyes. They'd been arguing earlier this morning. God, he hoped Steve wasn't coming back to pick up where they'd left off.

Then Steve did something strange. He lifted his hands. Curled them gently around the place where Tony's shoulders met his biceps: soft at first, but then adding just a touch of pressure, enough that Tony's brain noticed it and perked up, flared back into life just a little. The sensation of it kicked off a chain reaction. He realised his thumb hurt, and he needed to pee, and that he'd somehow forgotten to turn on the light as he'd been walking through the kitchen because it was dark as shit and he could actually barely see the other man an inch away from him.

"Tony," Steve's voice was calm, firm, and left absolutely no room for argument. "You can stop now."

Tony didn't respond, too busy trying to process that in his head. It didn't sound right - he knew there was a list, he did, and it was his job to do it and he'd been working at it for the last five days and there wasn't time to stop, there just wasn't. That was what he'd been telling himself, over and over and over. But then, if that was true, it would mean that Steve was wrong. Steve was rarely wrong.

"You can stop," Steve said again. "It's okay to stop."

Was it really?

"Natasha needs--"

"She will be fine. You've created dozens of variants of that uniform for her. Her wardrobe is literally full of protective gear." Steve gave him another gentle squeeze, and it felt good, it felt really good for Steve to touch him. It'd been days since they'd touched. Tony had just been so busy, and then when they had seen eachother they'd been fighting about the fucking portal debacle from Tuesday and now, wow, it felt so good to be touched. The care, the love, it seemed to seep out from Steve's fingers. He'd not even realised he'd been in fight or flight mode all day until he was reminded, right now, of how it felt to be safe.

"I shouldn't," Tony's voice was quiet. He shook his head.

Steve just nodded his. "Yes you should. Come on sweetheart. You know you need to rest. You're doing no-one any favours by running around half-delirious."

"I'm not half delirious."

"JARVIS told me you couldn't even undress yourself. And you're bleeding all over our floor, by the way." Steve's head nodded downward, and Tony looked to see that yeah, Steve was actually right. There was a smattering of small, delicate crimson drops staining their cream tiles.

Tony frowned, recalling the vague memory of his thumb hurting. He glanced down, and spotted the nail that he'd accidentally removed about 20% of. It was a bad habit. Howard had absolutely fucking hated his nail biting - he used to rip Tony's hand straight out of his mouth if ever he got caught in the act, often taking the rest of the nail he'd had his teeth clamped around with it.

"Oh," was all Tony could say.

Without changing a shade, Steve moved again, hand slipping around Tony's and lifting it. He efficiently slotted Tony's thumb into his mouth, sucking off the blood, and then leaned sideways, delving into the drawer where they kept (amongst a plethora of other random assorted crap) the band-aids. He wound it around Tony's thumb, taking extra care to ensure that the raw skin of his cuticle was padded by the gauze and didn't touch the adhesive. When that was done, he shifted his attention to Tony's dress shirt, popping open the first few with frustrating ease. They'd definitely not been playing ball when it'd been Tony trying to make them open.

"It's time to call it a night," Steve told him. Now his hand was on Tony's jaw. His thumb was rubbing a little circle just in front of Tony's ear, like a massage, and God it felt so good that in that moment Tony lost sight of everything else. The work, the sting of pain, the frantic cacophony of 'do more, do more, do more' that had been looping uncontrollably in his head. The one thing that stood between Tony Stark and oblivion was Steve Rogers' right thumb, and man, it was fucking holding up.

Then, slowly, Steve pulled him into his arms. With one hand still pressing into the side of Tony's, the other circled around the his shoulders. They drew him into the impossible feeling of safety that came with being immersed in Steve's hug, and that was it. That was just it.

Tony sagged. He felt Steve's mouth press a gentle kiss against the top of his head. He was so, so, so fucking tired.

"Wanna go to bed?" Steve asked softly.

Tony nodded.

#stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #anyway. this is not what I intended on coming out with at all it was gonna be way more dramatic #but then. um. the grief.#so anyways instead I just used worlds best blorbo tony stark to project how my mind is working right now and it came out okay #another day another slay #my writing

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