Last Femslash Kink Meme Fills...?
I never know if "Midnight Monday" means tonight, or that we have the whole day tomorrow. It IS Labor Day, so why not labor with smutty happiness? And I THINK I may have filled a prompt I left myself. I don't remember exactly. It feels like something I'd prompt, but... ~shrugs~ There's no rule against filling your own prompt if no one else has touched it ;D
Title: Quorum
Author: geonncannon
Word Count: 1,911
Fandom: The Avengers (2012), Thor, Iron Man, Hulk (2008)
Pairing: Natasha Romanov/Maria Hill/Pepper Potts/Jane Foster/Darcy Lewis/Lady Sif/Betty Ross
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me!
Rating: Explicit
Author's Notes: Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme! I'm not sure who the original prompter meant by "everyone," but I hope I didn't leave out any MCU ladies. The only two I could think of who aren't here are Sharon Carter and Peggy Carter (if that is who the lady at the end of Captain America was... I know it's smut, but I hate being contradicted by future canon ~g~)
Prompt: Natasha Romanov/everyone, gangbang with strap-ons/dildos/cunnilingus
Summary: Natasha doesn't mind the boys playing with boys, or boys and girls playing together. But when the girls are all together, she truly shines.
AO3 link
Everyone knew what the boys got up to in Stark Tower once Jarvis lowered the lights and locked up the exits. Safe inside their own private world of toys with their every whim catered to, it became a fleshy pinball game of bedhopping. Tony fucked Steve, Steve fucked Phil, Clint fucked Thor, Bruce fucked Tony, round and round it went. And sure, sometimes they 'went straight.' Thor and Jane, Bruce and Betty, Tony and Pepper... there were threesomes galore, of every stripe. Foursomes, voyeuristic encounters in the public areas. But Natasha refrained. Oh, sure, she would give Clint handjobs. She would get on her knees and suck him until she got a mouthful. But what she really lived for were the days when Maria visited.
On days when Maria was there, the balance shifted. The women outnumbered the men, thanks to the arrival of Lady Sif and Betty Ross. So while the boys had fun upstairs, Natasha whispered in the ears of Pepper and Maria to tell them her plan. She recruited them to bring the others, resigning to her rooms to prepare for their arrival.
Pepper arrived first. Jane, nervous, and Darcy exhilarated and ready for another. Natasha greeted them both with a kiss that lingered long enough for them to get comfortable with the idea, and then she welcomed them to a night they wouldn't soon forget. Maria came next, with Lady Sif and Betty Ross. Sif was at ease with what was going to happen and brazenly kissed Natasha on the lips within seconds of introducing herself.
"I was told there is to be debauchery," Sif said with a wicked curl of her lip.
Natasha raised an eyebrow and fingered the tag of her zipper. She tugged it down just enough to show off her cleavage, running her middle finger over the inside curve of her breast. "You were told right. So where do we begin?"
"The alcohol?" Jane asked nervously. Betty agreed, and Pepper went to retrieve the wine.
The women got to know one another as they methodically drained the bottle. Natasha whispered in Jane's ear, asking ordinary questions that became seductive when whispered from behind, Natasha's strong fingers massaging her shoulders through her shirt; how long she and Darcy had known each other, had they ever experimented, had Jane ever kissed a woman?
"Why don't you kiss her?" Natasha asked. "I would love to see that, Jane."
Darcy was obviously willing, and they tentatively moved closer. Softly at first, close-lipped and as likely to be interrupted by giggles rather than moans. Natasha moved her hands to the buttons of Jane's blouse and began to undo them. Darcy helped her, smiling as she and the elegant, exotic Russian woman undressed her friend. Jane's hair fell across her face, and Darcy pushed it back and stroked Jane's face.
"I've thought about it," Darcy admitted as Jane's shirt was removed.
"Me too," Jane said softly. This time when they kissed, there was no laughter. Darcy parted Jane's tongue with her lip, and Jane moaned as Natasha kissed her neck and then peeled away from her. She walked to where Lady Sif and Maria were kissing. Sif broke the kiss at Natasha's approach, and Maria smiled at Natasha as her hands roamed Sif's body through the thin material of her clothes. The lack of lines revealed Sif wasn't wearing anything underneath it, a fact Maria was taking full advantage of.
Maria pulled Natasha to her. "I've never kissed a goddess before. I feel something like a little electric shock every time our tongues touch."
"Goddess I may be, but the three of us be not different," Sif kissed Natasha, fleetingly but Natasha felt a sudden drunkenness wash over her. She stumbled slightly and Sif put an arm around her waist to steady her. "Regardless of birth we have chosen to become more. Soldier, killer, warrior. We have become mighty, thus we are the same."
"Works for me," Natasha said. She hooked her finger under Maria's chin and kissed her. Sif pressed forward and they turned their heads slightly for a triad kiss, moving their tongues together before Natasha pulled back and let them kiss, stroking their dark hair before reluctantly pulling away. She crossed the room where Betty was watching events unfold with eyes wide, nervously rubbing her hands together in front of her. She looked over as Natasha approached and smiled nervously.
"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to."
Betty released a heavy breath and closed her eyes. "You know, it's odd, but... you saying that suddenly makes me want to."
"Are you sure?"
Betty answered by kissing her, and they were still kissing when Pepper finally emerged from the bedroom. She had taken off her pants, a thick rubber dildo sticking out from under the hem of her shirt. She was carrying a black leather bag and made a circuit of the room to allow the ladies to pick something from within.
Jane took out a long skinny dildo, wetting it with her tongue before offering it to Darcy. Darcy wrapped her lips around it, closing her eyes as her tongue curled around it, letting Jane guide it deeper into her mouth with smooth, slow twisting movements. As she sucked, Darcy slipped her hands over Jane's now-bare hips, into her trousers, and Jane slid closer to her on the couch. She straddled Darcy's bent leg, sitting on her knee and finding a comfortable position as she continued to thrust into Darcy's mouth, watching as the dildo became slick and ready.
Pepper had continued on, and Lady Sif had chosen a rubber hand designed with its fingers permanently clenched into a tight fist. Maria's eyes had widened when she saw it and now, her uniform pants binding her knees together, she closed her eyes as the goddess pressed the knuckles against Maria's sex and eased her open with agonizing care.
And while Natasha let Betty go through the bag of toys to find one she was comfortable with, Pepper had undone Natasha's uniform all the way and tugged it down, making Natasha the first to be naked. She arched her back and Pepper stood behind her, feet apart and heels raised as she guided the tip of her strap-on to Natasha's slick folds. Natasha braced herself against Betty, whispering in her ear everything Pepper was doing to her.
Pepper met Betty's eyes and winked at her. Betty felt calmer; she and Pepper were the most normal women in the room. They hadn't signed up for anything, been trained for anything, or spent years upon years studying to be prepared for this bizarre new world. Pepper reached out with one hand, the other still clutching the base of her cock, and she mouthed, come here. Betty kissed Pepper over Natasha's shoulder, then suddenly pressed against her, eager to feel another body against hers.
"Easy, easy," Natasha cooed. "We have all night, Elizabeth."
Maria cried out, slamming her hand against the wall as Sif used the rubber hand to fist her. Maria's face was red, her eyes closed so tight that tears glistened at the corners, but the only intelligible thing to come out of her mouth was, "More, God, fuck me harder."
Jane was naked, and Darcy was exploring her curves with a reverence that only came with long years of pondering "what if." Jane touched Darcy's hair and back and arms, scraping along her sides, closing her eyes as Darcy sucked her nipple and pushed a hand between her legs. And Pepper, fully inside of Natasha, bent her knees and began to thrust. Natasha pushed back against her, turning her head so that one curl of blood-red hair fell across her eye. As Betty kissed Natasha's cheek, Pepper tilted her head and captured Natasha's lips.
Maria let Sif manhandle her to the couch, where she bent over and kissed a very surprised Jane. Their tongues dueled as Sif thrust into Maria from behind, while Darcy finally gave in and lifted Jane's legs onto her shoulders. Jane moaned into Maria's mouth as Darcy's tongue began to explore her in earnest.
Natasha roughly pushed Pepper away before she came, clapping a hand over her now-aching sex as she tried to balance on the sharp edge of climax. She stepped out from between Pepper and Betty and said, "Take off her clothes." Pepper complied, the cock still swaying and shining with Natasha's juices as Pepper undressed a passive, trembling Betty Ross. When Betty was down to her bra and panties, she dropped to her knees, cupped Pepper's cock, and drew it into her mouth. She moaned and closed her eyes, taking the length of it deep into her mouth as Pepper stroked her hair.
Pepper finished undressing, ignoring the throb coming from her center mass as she walked across the room. She stood in front of the writhing mass of four women on the couch and slid her hand over Darcy's back. She pushed past the studded belt, into her jeans, and pressed a finger against Darcy's asshole, then lower to her wet sex.
"You've wanted her for so long, haven't you, Darcy?" She freed her hand and brought it to her mouth, painting her bottom lip with Darcy's juices as she watched them. Pepper joined her, now naked except for the shining cock that jutted out from her slender hips. Betty stood on Natasha's other side, her breasts shining and slightly smeared with shades of Pepper's lipstick.
"So many choices," Pepper whispered.
"But lo, the night is long," Sif said. She held out her hand and Pepper went to her. Natasha drew Betty to her side and kissed her, then guided her down onto the couch.
"I'm not sure--"
"Sh," Natasha whispered. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Whatever you want to do to someone... I'm certain there is someone on this couch who will be willing to teach you."
Jane, lips swollen from kisses and eyes half-lidded, held out her hand. Betty took it and kissed the fingers, then leaned down so that she had access to both Jane and Maria's mouths. Natasha bowed down to join Darcy between Jane's legs, which spread wider to accommodate the second woman's head. Jane now had one foot on the back of the couch, the other on the floor, and Darcy's fingers were pushing her open as wide as possible as Natasha and Darcy's tongues met over her tender sex. Betty reached back blindly and found the curve of Natasha's ass. From there, it was a simple exploration to find Natasha's tortured sex.
Sif abandoned her rubber fist and bent forward so Pepper could fuck her properly from behind. She dug her fingers into Maria's ass, spreading her open. The fist had opened Maria wide enough that Sif could push in three fingers alongside her tongue without too much effort. Maria was dripping, her thighs soaked with her juices, and the goddess lapped at it like it was ambrosia.
At one point, Natasha lifted her head and scanned the smooth, writhing sea of bodies. The scent of female pheromones filled the air, and it made her lightheaded. She kissed the curve of a hip; individuals were only identifiable by their hair color or body type. She watched as Jane sucked someone's juices (her own?) from Maria's fingers, then moved to fully undress Darcy.
It was many hours until dawn, and Natasha had plans to fill every minute.
Title: Picket Fences
Author: geonncannon
Word Count: 1,819
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Sophie Devereaux/Tara Cole
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me!
Rating: Explicit
Author's Notes: Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme!
Prompt: phone sex
Summary: Tara remembers an old con where she and Sophie became caught up in their own lies.
AO3 link
Between cons, between identities, she's just Tara Cole. It's like a second skin between her and the world, a barrier that keeps her safe just in case. She lives in a common apartment, with common neighbors. They think she's a stewardess or an international businesswoman; her outfits don't give much of a clue either way except for a vague sense of money and taste. Lying in bed after her shower, she stares at her ceiling with no lies to remember, no personal history to manufacture, and only her own memories to keep her company.
She thought of Riverside. A long con five months in the planning with only one hitch... to gain the confidence of the mark, she needed a husband. There were male grifters she knew who could pull it off, but none she trusted enough to bring them in on such a long-term scheme. So she invited Sophie Devereaux out to drinks in Athens. Tara Cole does not go halfway when asking for a favor, especially for a favor as huge as this one.
It would cost Sophie nearly a year of her life, but the payoff would more than make up for it. Sophie was never adverse to long cons for the right price. And she wasn't so precious about her identity that she was turned off by the thought of going by a different name for a prolonged period of time (hell, Sophie wasn't even her true name and she's been wearing that one for a decade). It was losing her gender that made Tara tiptoe around spelling out the con.
Sophie took the evening to consider it. The next morning they met in front of the Parthenon so she could give her answer. She smiled, slipped an exquisite diamond ring onto the third finger of Tara's hand, and flipped her soon-to-be gone hair out of her eyes. She smiled and asked where they would be living.
Stuart and Tara Cole moved to Riverside two weeks later. To an outsider, Tara was fantastically gorgeous and utterly charming. Her husband was a tall and slender man with short dark hair, a dark complexion, and speech impediment that made him reluctant to speak much in mixed company. But he was friendly enough, and when he did speak it was with a tentative accent that many neighbors took as evidence that he was a foreigner. A foreigner from what country, they couldn't begin to say, although everyone had their theories.
Tara closes her eyes as she remembers moving in, the domesticity of it all as she and Sophie chose the furnishings for their new home. It was all a ruse, yes, but it had to be a convincing one. They had to ask themselves who Stuart and Tara were before making a decision on something as innocent as a lamp or a china pattern.
Sophie cut her hair dreadfully short, hands over her face as Tara assaulted the long black curls with hideous silver shears. When she was finished she blew across the back of Sophie's neck, making her quake in the chair before she opened her eyes to look at the misshapen mop now sat atop her head. Once they had determined the length - one step above bald, Sophie declared - Tara began to sculpt it into a masculine style.
She reaches for her cell phone. What time is it where Sophie is? And who can keep track? Los Angeles to Boston to Portland. She stays just long enough to make everyone put their guard down, then whammo. She moves again. Following her merry gang of Robin Hoods. Tara gives up consideration and dials. She rests the phone against her ear and, as it buzzes a ring, she moves her hand under the blankets.
As the phone rings, she thinks about Stuart. They were the perfect couple in public, and perfect partners behind closed doors. Neither of them gave much thought to the deception. They lied to their neighbors, to the clerk at the local grocery store, but who cared? They both knew the neighborhood was full of people doing things just as sordid and secretive behind their own closed curtains. It's why curtains were invented. It was what made Riverside the perfect place for Tara's long con.
Finding secrets was an easy part. Convincing the owners of the secret to pay for continued silence was the easiest part. The only hard part was keeping their own secrets safe while they ferreted out the secrets of others. They weren't concerned; if there was one thing Tara and Sophie knew better than grifting was how to keep a secret.
"Hello?"
"It's late. Why aren't you home yet? I've been waiting for you all night, Stuart."
It was a gamble. What if it had been too long? What if Sophie didn't remember or wasn't interested? She heard a door close and then Sophie spoke in Stuart's voice. "Sorry, dear. I got caught up at work." Her voice has become a low rumble, a strangely drawl from the American South with hard Rs and a rolling cadence that nevertheless makes Sophie sound like a man. Perhaps a slightly fey man, but nonetheless...
Tara bends her knees and rolls onto her side, the phone between her head and the pillow. She eases up her nightgown. "But I was waiting for you, darling."
"Oh... were you now? Tell me you're not wearing that pink, silky nightgown with the lace that I got you in Milan..."
"No. It's maroon. Dark red. Cut low at the breast and slit high on both sides."
"I bet that doesn't matter. I bet it doesn't matter how high it's cut, because you have it up around your hips, don't you, dear? Don't lie to me, darlin', I can see right through you."
"Yes."
"Are you touching yourself, Tara?"
"Yes, Stuart."
Tara closes her eyes; it's like Sophie is whispering in her ear again. "But this is what married couples do, sweetheart." She can feel Sophie's hands on her, can feel her weight pressing against the crotch of her panties. She spread her legs, pretending Sophie is there again. Lying on top of her, having come into the master bedroom unbidden and uninvited, showing Tara just how accurate her male costume is by rubbing the tip against Tara's underwear. She moans at the memory.
"Tell me what you're thinking, sweetheart."
"You." She worries her lip and groans, lips spreading in a primal smile of arousal. "Your cock."
Sophie chuckles and, for that moment, it's Sophie again. "It's thinking about you, too. It's gotten hard, Tara, and I'm gonna have to start stroking it right here. Oh, the things you do to me."
She thinks about how easy their public affection had been. Holding hands when it wasn't entirely necessary, shopping together. She remembers the tension in her spine the first time 'Stuart' kissed her, and how quickly it had become natural. How surprised she had been to have Sophie in her bed while, at the same time, how it seemed to have taken forever to happen. After that first night, they decided it was ridiculous to keep separate rooms. Sharing a bed would also help their ruse. And, damn it, Tara just wanted Sophie to keep fucking her.
"Are you stroking it?" Tara asks breathlessly. "Your big cock?"
"Yes. Tell me what you're doing."
"Touching myself."
"Both hands?"
Tara grunts. "Yes..."
"Use the fingers of your left hand. I want your right hand on your breast." Tara does as she's told. She can hear Sophie's heavy breathing over the phone. "I want you," Sophie whispers in her own voice, and it's almost as if they're having a threesome.
"Want you too," Tara murmurs, her lips inches from the speaker. She knows her breath is passing over the speaker, knows it must be loud in Sophie's ear, but she doesn't care. "Need you, Soph."
"And just who is Sophie?"
"You. It was always you, Sophie, on top of me... uhm... in me. Fucking me with your cock, it was Sophie, Sophie Devereaux, Katherine, Annie, Charlotte, Stuart." She says the sacred name, the one the woman she's speaking to was born with. She draws a breath and then sighs, "Sophie. I'm so close, Sophie."
"I can picture your face," Sophie sighs, giving up the male voice. Now her voice is sex, smooth, silk, British seduction and hypnotism. "I love that I know what you look like right now, on the edge, forcing yourself to hold... back... but I want you to let go. Tara, I want you to let go right now and I want you to come for me. I'm your lover, I'm your husband, and I'm the closest thing you have to a partner, and I am telling you to come."
Tara does as she is told, thrusting against her hand as she remembers Sophie against her back, hands on her hips, thrusting the cock into her. Both of them gasping, knowing that the same thought (We fell victim to the con) is passing through Sophie's head as they come together. And now, in the present, Sophie listens as Tara makes herself come thousands of miles away. She can hear the tremulous nature of Sophie's breathing and knows she's come, too, and Tara wets her lips before she lifts her head and puts the phone to her ear.
"Not bad for an improv, Mr. Cole."
"Hm, perhaps I've rehearsed it in my head a few times before." Sophie now sounds sleepy, and Tara hears blankets shifting. She smiles, glad they're both in bed.
"You should have called."
"I know that now. Didn't want to intrude. Didn't know if you remembered."
"I remembered," Tara says. Her heart had seized a little on the day she took off 'Stuart Cole's' wedding ring at the end of the grift.
Sophie doesn't speak again; Stuart does. "I feel like we're drifting apart, darling."
"After what we just did?"
"Separated by an ocean or a continent, whichever... I miss you. I haven't seen you in ages. You'd be amazed how long I've grown out my hair."
Tara chuckles. "Maybe we could take a holiday."
"Mm. I'd like that. Just you, me. That nightie. My cock."
"A match made in heaven."
"Yes." She's a little confused by how excited she is at the prospect, but only a little. She knows how her body reacts to Sophie Devereaux. It's not about being a lesbian or bisexual. It's about falling for the con. She was bulletproof before she met the smooth-talking, divine, debonair when necessary, sultry Sophie.
They made their promises to talk again later before hanging up, and Tara curls under the blankets. She doesn't want a normal life. She doesn't want neighbors who actually know who she is, white picket fences and the dog in the yard.
But when it comes to Sophie, a little domesticity isn't the worst thing in the world.
Title: Quorum
Author: geonncannon
Word Count: 1,911
Fandom: The Avengers (2012), Thor, Iron Man, Hulk (2008)
Pairing: Natasha Romanov/Maria Hill/Pepper Potts/Jane Foster/Darcy Lewis/Lady Sif/Betty Ross
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me!
Rating: Explicit
Author's Notes: Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme! I'm not sure who the original prompter meant by "everyone," but I hope I didn't leave out any MCU ladies. The only two I could think of who aren't here are Sharon Carter and Peggy Carter (if that is who the lady at the end of Captain America was... I know it's smut, but I hate being contradicted by future canon ~g~)
Prompt: Natasha Romanov/everyone, gangbang with strap-ons/dildos/cunnilingus
Summary: Natasha doesn't mind the boys playing with boys, or boys and girls playing together. But when the girls are all together, she truly shines.
AO3 link
Everyone knew what the boys got up to in Stark Tower once Jarvis lowered the lights and locked up the exits. Safe inside their own private world of toys with their every whim catered to, it became a fleshy pinball game of bedhopping. Tony fucked Steve, Steve fucked Phil, Clint fucked Thor, Bruce fucked Tony, round and round it went. And sure, sometimes they 'went straight.' Thor and Jane, Bruce and Betty, Tony and Pepper... there were threesomes galore, of every stripe. Foursomes, voyeuristic encounters in the public areas. But Natasha refrained. Oh, sure, she would give Clint handjobs. She would get on her knees and suck him until she got a mouthful. But what she really lived for were the days when Maria visited.
On days when Maria was there, the balance shifted. The women outnumbered the men, thanks to the arrival of Lady Sif and Betty Ross. So while the boys had fun upstairs, Natasha whispered in the ears of Pepper and Maria to tell them her plan. She recruited them to bring the others, resigning to her rooms to prepare for their arrival.
Pepper arrived first. Jane, nervous, and Darcy exhilarated and ready for another. Natasha greeted them both with a kiss that lingered long enough for them to get comfortable with the idea, and then she welcomed them to a night they wouldn't soon forget. Maria came next, with Lady Sif and Betty Ross. Sif was at ease with what was going to happen and brazenly kissed Natasha on the lips within seconds of introducing herself.
"I was told there is to be debauchery," Sif said with a wicked curl of her lip.
Natasha raised an eyebrow and fingered the tag of her zipper. She tugged it down just enough to show off her cleavage, running her middle finger over the inside curve of her breast. "You were told right. So where do we begin?"
"The alcohol?" Jane asked nervously. Betty agreed, and Pepper went to retrieve the wine.
The women got to know one another as they methodically drained the bottle. Natasha whispered in Jane's ear, asking ordinary questions that became seductive when whispered from behind, Natasha's strong fingers massaging her shoulders through her shirt; how long she and Darcy had known each other, had they ever experimented, had Jane ever kissed a woman?
"Why don't you kiss her?" Natasha asked. "I would love to see that, Jane."
Darcy was obviously willing, and they tentatively moved closer. Softly at first, close-lipped and as likely to be interrupted by giggles rather than moans. Natasha moved her hands to the buttons of Jane's blouse and began to undo them. Darcy helped her, smiling as she and the elegant, exotic Russian woman undressed her friend. Jane's hair fell across her face, and Darcy pushed it back and stroked Jane's face.
"I've thought about it," Darcy admitted as Jane's shirt was removed.
"Me too," Jane said softly. This time when they kissed, there was no laughter. Darcy parted Jane's tongue with her lip, and Jane moaned as Natasha kissed her neck and then peeled away from her. She walked to where Lady Sif and Maria were kissing. Sif broke the kiss at Natasha's approach, and Maria smiled at Natasha as her hands roamed Sif's body through the thin material of her clothes. The lack of lines revealed Sif wasn't wearing anything underneath it, a fact Maria was taking full advantage of.
Maria pulled Natasha to her. "I've never kissed a goddess before. I feel something like a little electric shock every time our tongues touch."
"Goddess I may be, but the three of us be not different," Sif kissed Natasha, fleetingly but Natasha felt a sudden drunkenness wash over her. She stumbled slightly and Sif put an arm around her waist to steady her. "Regardless of birth we have chosen to become more. Soldier, killer, warrior. We have become mighty, thus we are the same."
"Works for me," Natasha said. She hooked her finger under Maria's chin and kissed her. Sif pressed forward and they turned their heads slightly for a triad kiss, moving their tongues together before Natasha pulled back and let them kiss, stroking their dark hair before reluctantly pulling away. She crossed the room where Betty was watching events unfold with eyes wide, nervously rubbing her hands together in front of her. She looked over as Natasha approached and smiled nervously.
"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to."
Betty released a heavy breath and closed her eyes. "You know, it's odd, but... you saying that suddenly makes me want to."
"Are you sure?"
Betty answered by kissing her, and they were still kissing when Pepper finally emerged from the bedroom. She had taken off her pants, a thick rubber dildo sticking out from under the hem of her shirt. She was carrying a black leather bag and made a circuit of the room to allow the ladies to pick something from within.
Jane took out a long skinny dildo, wetting it with her tongue before offering it to Darcy. Darcy wrapped her lips around it, closing her eyes as her tongue curled around it, letting Jane guide it deeper into her mouth with smooth, slow twisting movements. As she sucked, Darcy slipped her hands over Jane's now-bare hips, into her trousers, and Jane slid closer to her on the couch. She straddled Darcy's bent leg, sitting on her knee and finding a comfortable position as she continued to thrust into Darcy's mouth, watching as the dildo became slick and ready.
Pepper had continued on, and Lady Sif had chosen a rubber hand designed with its fingers permanently clenched into a tight fist. Maria's eyes had widened when she saw it and now, her uniform pants binding her knees together, she closed her eyes as the goddess pressed the knuckles against Maria's sex and eased her open with agonizing care.
And while Natasha let Betty go through the bag of toys to find one she was comfortable with, Pepper had undone Natasha's uniform all the way and tugged it down, making Natasha the first to be naked. She arched her back and Pepper stood behind her, feet apart and heels raised as she guided the tip of her strap-on to Natasha's slick folds. Natasha braced herself against Betty, whispering in her ear everything Pepper was doing to her.
Pepper met Betty's eyes and winked at her. Betty felt calmer; she and Pepper were the most normal women in the room. They hadn't signed up for anything, been trained for anything, or spent years upon years studying to be prepared for this bizarre new world. Pepper reached out with one hand, the other still clutching the base of her cock, and she mouthed, come here. Betty kissed Pepper over Natasha's shoulder, then suddenly pressed against her, eager to feel another body against hers.
"Easy, easy," Natasha cooed. "We have all night, Elizabeth."
Maria cried out, slamming her hand against the wall as Sif used the rubber hand to fist her. Maria's face was red, her eyes closed so tight that tears glistened at the corners, but the only intelligible thing to come out of her mouth was, "More, God, fuck me harder."
Jane was naked, and Darcy was exploring her curves with a reverence that only came with long years of pondering "what if." Jane touched Darcy's hair and back and arms, scraping along her sides, closing her eyes as Darcy sucked her nipple and pushed a hand between her legs. And Pepper, fully inside of Natasha, bent her knees and began to thrust. Natasha pushed back against her, turning her head so that one curl of blood-red hair fell across her eye. As Betty kissed Natasha's cheek, Pepper tilted her head and captured Natasha's lips.
Maria let Sif manhandle her to the couch, where she bent over and kissed a very surprised Jane. Their tongues dueled as Sif thrust into Maria from behind, while Darcy finally gave in and lifted Jane's legs onto her shoulders. Jane moaned into Maria's mouth as Darcy's tongue began to explore her in earnest.
Natasha roughly pushed Pepper away before she came, clapping a hand over her now-aching sex as she tried to balance on the sharp edge of climax. She stepped out from between Pepper and Betty and said, "Take off her clothes." Pepper complied, the cock still swaying and shining with Natasha's juices as Pepper undressed a passive, trembling Betty Ross. When Betty was down to her bra and panties, she dropped to her knees, cupped Pepper's cock, and drew it into her mouth. She moaned and closed her eyes, taking the length of it deep into her mouth as Pepper stroked her hair.
Pepper finished undressing, ignoring the throb coming from her center mass as she walked across the room. She stood in front of the writhing mass of four women on the couch and slid her hand over Darcy's back. She pushed past the studded belt, into her jeans, and pressed a finger against Darcy's asshole, then lower to her wet sex.
"You've wanted her for so long, haven't you, Darcy?" She freed her hand and brought it to her mouth, painting her bottom lip with Darcy's juices as she watched them. Pepper joined her, now naked except for the shining cock that jutted out from her slender hips. Betty stood on Natasha's other side, her breasts shining and slightly smeared with shades of Pepper's lipstick.
"So many choices," Pepper whispered.
"But lo, the night is long," Sif said. She held out her hand and Pepper went to her. Natasha drew Betty to her side and kissed her, then guided her down onto the couch.
"I'm not sure--"
"Sh," Natasha whispered. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Whatever you want to do to someone... I'm certain there is someone on this couch who will be willing to teach you."
Jane, lips swollen from kisses and eyes half-lidded, held out her hand. Betty took it and kissed the fingers, then leaned down so that she had access to both Jane and Maria's mouths. Natasha bowed down to join Darcy between Jane's legs, which spread wider to accommodate the second woman's head. Jane now had one foot on the back of the couch, the other on the floor, and Darcy's fingers were pushing her open as wide as possible as Natasha and Darcy's tongues met over her tender sex. Betty reached back blindly and found the curve of Natasha's ass. From there, it was a simple exploration to find Natasha's tortured sex.
Sif abandoned her rubber fist and bent forward so Pepper could fuck her properly from behind. She dug her fingers into Maria's ass, spreading her open. The fist had opened Maria wide enough that Sif could push in three fingers alongside her tongue without too much effort. Maria was dripping, her thighs soaked with her juices, and the goddess lapped at it like it was ambrosia.
At one point, Natasha lifted her head and scanned the smooth, writhing sea of bodies. The scent of female pheromones filled the air, and it made her lightheaded. She kissed the curve of a hip; individuals were only identifiable by their hair color or body type. She watched as Jane sucked someone's juices (her own?) from Maria's fingers, then moved to fully undress Darcy.
It was many hours until dawn, and Natasha had plans to fill every minute.
Title: Picket Fences
Author: geonncannon
Word Count: 1,819
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Sophie Devereaux/Tara Cole
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me!
Rating: Explicit
Author's Notes: Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme!
Prompt: phone sex
Summary: Tara remembers an old con where she and Sophie became caught up in their own lies.
AO3 link
Between cons, between identities, she's just Tara Cole. It's like a second skin between her and the world, a barrier that keeps her safe just in case. She lives in a common apartment, with common neighbors. They think she's a stewardess or an international businesswoman; her outfits don't give much of a clue either way except for a vague sense of money and taste. Lying in bed after her shower, she stares at her ceiling with no lies to remember, no personal history to manufacture, and only her own memories to keep her company.
She thought of Riverside. A long con five months in the planning with only one hitch... to gain the confidence of the mark, she needed a husband. There were male grifters she knew who could pull it off, but none she trusted enough to bring them in on such a long-term scheme. So she invited Sophie Devereaux out to drinks in Athens. Tara Cole does not go halfway when asking for a favor, especially for a favor as huge as this one.
It would cost Sophie nearly a year of her life, but the payoff would more than make up for it. Sophie was never adverse to long cons for the right price. And she wasn't so precious about her identity that she was turned off by the thought of going by a different name for a prolonged period of time (hell, Sophie wasn't even her true name and she's been wearing that one for a decade). It was losing her gender that made Tara tiptoe around spelling out the con.
Sophie took the evening to consider it. The next morning they met in front of the Parthenon so she could give her answer. She smiled, slipped an exquisite diamond ring onto the third finger of Tara's hand, and flipped her soon-to-be gone hair out of her eyes. She smiled and asked where they would be living.
Stuart and Tara Cole moved to Riverside two weeks later. To an outsider, Tara was fantastically gorgeous and utterly charming. Her husband was a tall and slender man with short dark hair, a dark complexion, and speech impediment that made him reluctant to speak much in mixed company. But he was friendly enough, and when he did speak it was with a tentative accent that many neighbors took as evidence that he was a foreigner. A foreigner from what country, they couldn't begin to say, although everyone had their theories.
Tara closes her eyes as she remembers moving in, the domesticity of it all as she and Sophie chose the furnishings for their new home. It was all a ruse, yes, but it had to be a convincing one. They had to ask themselves who Stuart and Tara were before making a decision on something as innocent as a lamp or a china pattern.
Sophie cut her hair dreadfully short, hands over her face as Tara assaulted the long black curls with hideous silver shears. When she was finished she blew across the back of Sophie's neck, making her quake in the chair before she opened her eyes to look at the misshapen mop now sat atop her head. Once they had determined the length - one step above bald, Sophie declared - Tara began to sculpt it into a masculine style.
She reaches for her cell phone. What time is it where Sophie is? And who can keep track? Los Angeles to Boston to Portland. She stays just long enough to make everyone put their guard down, then whammo. She moves again. Following her merry gang of Robin Hoods. Tara gives up consideration and dials. She rests the phone against her ear and, as it buzzes a ring, she moves her hand under the blankets.
As the phone rings, she thinks about Stuart. They were the perfect couple in public, and perfect partners behind closed doors. Neither of them gave much thought to the deception. They lied to their neighbors, to the clerk at the local grocery store, but who cared? They both knew the neighborhood was full of people doing things just as sordid and secretive behind their own closed curtains. It's why curtains were invented. It was what made Riverside the perfect place for Tara's long con.
Finding secrets was an easy part. Convincing the owners of the secret to pay for continued silence was the easiest part. The only hard part was keeping their own secrets safe while they ferreted out the secrets of others. They weren't concerned; if there was one thing Tara and Sophie knew better than grifting was how to keep a secret.
"Hello?"
"It's late. Why aren't you home yet? I've been waiting for you all night, Stuart."
It was a gamble. What if it had been too long? What if Sophie didn't remember or wasn't interested? She heard a door close and then Sophie spoke in Stuart's voice. "Sorry, dear. I got caught up at work." Her voice has become a low rumble, a strangely drawl from the American South with hard Rs and a rolling cadence that nevertheless makes Sophie sound like a man. Perhaps a slightly fey man, but nonetheless...
Tara bends her knees and rolls onto her side, the phone between her head and the pillow. She eases up her nightgown. "But I was waiting for you, darling."
"Oh... were you now? Tell me you're not wearing that pink, silky nightgown with the lace that I got you in Milan..."
"No. It's maroon. Dark red. Cut low at the breast and slit high on both sides."
"I bet that doesn't matter. I bet it doesn't matter how high it's cut, because you have it up around your hips, don't you, dear? Don't lie to me, darlin', I can see right through you."
"Yes."
"Are you touching yourself, Tara?"
"Yes, Stuart."
Tara closes her eyes; it's like Sophie is whispering in her ear again. "But this is what married couples do, sweetheart." She can feel Sophie's hands on her, can feel her weight pressing against the crotch of her panties. She spread her legs, pretending Sophie is there again. Lying on top of her, having come into the master bedroom unbidden and uninvited, showing Tara just how accurate her male costume is by rubbing the tip against Tara's underwear. She moans at the memory.
"Tell me what you're thinking, sweetheart."
"You." She worries her lip and groans, lips spreading in a primal smile of arousal. "Your cock."
Sophie chuckles and, for that moment, it's Sophie again. "It's thinking about you, too. It's gotten hard, Tara, and I'm gonna have to start stroking it right here. Oh, the things you do to me."
She thinks about how easy their public affection had been. Holding hands when it wasn't entirely necessary, shopping together. She remembers the tension in her spine the first time 'Stuart' kissed her, and how quickly it had become natural. How surprised she had been to have Sophie in her bed while, at the same time, how it seemed to have taken forever to happen. After that first night, they decided it was ridiculous to keep separate rooms. Sharing a bed would also help their ruse. And, damn it, Tara just wanted Sophie to keep fucking her.
"Are you stroking it?" Tara asks breathlessly. "Your big cock?"
"Yes. Tell me what you're doing."
"Touching myself."
"Both hands?"
Tara grunts. "Yes..."
"Use the fingers of your left hand. I want your right hand on your breast." Tara does as she's told. She can hear Sophie's heavy breathing over the phone. "I want you," Sophie whispers in her own voice, and it's almost as if they're having a threesome.
"Want you too," Tara murmurs, her lips inches from the speaker. She knows her breath is passing over the speaker, knows it must be loud in Sophie's ear, but she doesn't care. "Need you, Soph."
"And just who is Sophie?"
"You. It was always you, Sophie, on top of me... uhm... in me. Fucking me with your cock, it was Sophie, Sophie Devereaux, Katherine, Annie, Charlotte, Stuart." She says the sacred name, the one the woman she's speaking to was born with. She draws a breath and then sighs, "Sophie. I'm so close, Sophie."
"I can picture your face," Sophie sighs, giving up the male voice. Now her voice is sex, smooth, silk, British seduction and hypnotism. "I love that I know what you look like right now, on the edge, forcing yourself to hold... back... but I want you to let go. Tara, I want you to let go right now and I want you to come for me. I'm your lover, I'm your husband, and I'm the closest thing you have to a partner, and I am telling you to come."
Tara does as she is told, thrusting against her hand as she remembers Sophie against her back, hands on her hips, thrusting the cock into her. Both of them gasping, knowing that the same thought (We fell victim to the con) is passing through Sophie's head as they come together. And now, in the present, Sophie listens as Tara makes herself come thousands of miles away. She can hear the tremulous nature of Sophie's breathing and knows she's come, too, and Tara wets her lips before she lifts her head and puts the phone to her ear.
"Not bad for an improv, Mr. Cole."
"Hm, perhaps I've rehearsed it in my head a few times before." Sophie now sounds sleepy, and Tara hears blankets shifting. She smiles, glad they're both in bed.
"You should have called."
"I know that now. Didn't want to intrude. Didn't know if you remembered."
"I remembered," Tara says. Her heart had seized a little on the day she took off 'Stuart Cole's' wedding ring at the end of the grift.
Sophie doesn't speak again; Stuart does. "I feel like we're drifting apart, darling."
"After what we just did?"
"Separated by an ocean or a continent, whichever... I miss you. I haven't seen you in ages. You'd be amazed how long I've grown out my hair."
Tara chuckles. "Maybe we could take a holiday."
"Mm. I'd like that. Just you, me. That nightie. My cock."
"A match made in heaven."
"Yes." She's a little confused by how excited she is at the prospect, but only a little. She knows how her body reacts to Sophie Devereaux. It's not about being a lesbian or bisexual. It's about falling for the con. She was bulletproof before she met the smooth-talking, divine, debonair when necessary, sultry Sophie.
They made their promises to talk again later before hanging up, and Tara curls under the blankets. She doesn't want a normal life. She doesn't want neighbors who actually know who she is, white picket fences and the dog in the yard.
But when it comes to Sophie, a little domesticity isn't the worst thing in the world.