Personal Challenge: Poker Faces
folder
X-men Comics › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
10,422
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
X-men Comics › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
10,422
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
Enter Trios
Brief Author's Note: Smut in the next chapter. I promise. Unless you want to do violence to the character, you can't just screw Psylocke. :)
Betsy Braddock sat alone in her motel room on her bed and stared at the sad clown painting on the blue wall in front of her. She wore an old Sex Pistols T-shirt and shorts. Her eyes were unfocused and angry. She was brooding.
She had not attended the mission celebratory dinner tonight because she did not want the mission to end. Once it ended, things had to return to the way things were before. She kept telling herself she didn’t care, that it was better this way, but some stubborn part of her mind wouldn’t let her get away with it.
She crossed her legs and sighed. She didn’t mind the lust, actually. At one time or another, just about everyone in the X-men got a hot flash or two for everyone else, especially if they served together for a long time. It was only natural. She could handle lust. She wasn’t spooked by wanting to stroke a thin hand up Wanda’s thigh while she teased Bobby’s cock, or the other fantasies that visited her late at night and in her dreams. If it were just lust, she’d have seduced the both of them before tonight and got it all over with.
But it wasn’t. That was what frightened her. She wanted more. She wanted to see that delighted surprised look in Wanda’s eyes when she gave her a gift for no reason, on her birthday, and New Year’s, and Boxing Day too. She wanted to make Bobby laugh. She wanted to wake up in gentle arms, not caring who aroused her, and hold and be held afterward. She wanted to know for certain that it wasn’t like the others, that this time no one was leaving as soon as the deed was done. She wanted to keep their closeness forever.
She held her arms tightly to her chest. She knew their cell phone numbers by heart. She and Wanda had spent enough time sharing stories about how difficult their brothers were over the past several months, after all. And Bobby usually called her to laugh about some ridiculous movie or joke he’d pulled that day, but when he didn’t it was her custom to call him. She was not going to call them. Everything would just go back to normal. Wanda would go back to the Avengers, Bobby and she to the X-men, and she would get over them. Some day.
She was not going to call them.
She started up from the bed when she heard a sudden loud rapping at the door. “Betsy?” She put her right hand to her chest. It was Wanda.
“Go away!” she called.
“Aw, come on, Bets. Let us in.”
And Bobby. Bloody wonderful. “I said go away. I meant it.”
Her doorknob rattled, then turned. She scowled at it. Stupid cheap locks. Bobby came in first. He was wearing very little, just a thin undershirt and a cute pair of Mickey Mouse boxers. She decided to turn her anger on him before he could do something sweet and cool her off, ignoring her instant heat at the sight of his muscular form. “Get the hell out, Drake. I don’t want to see you or her here any more.” She looked away from him to the door.
Wanda walked in after him, carrying a champagne bottle and three glasses, and shut and locked the door after herself. She blinked in surprise. “I said to get the bloody hell out.” She turned her back on the others and waited for them to leave.
She heard a cork pop behind her and turned to see Wanda and Bobby pouring out the champagne at the small plastic table. “Sorry. We’re not going anywhere.” Wanda gave her a sweet smile.
Betsy Braddock sat alone in her motel room on her bed and stared at the sad clown painting on the blue wall in front of her. She wore an old Sex Pistols T-shirt and shorts. Her eyes were unfocused and angry. She was brooding.
She had not attended the mission celebratory dinner tonight because she did not want the mission to end. Once it ended, things had to return to the way things were before. She kept telling herself she didn’t care, that it was better this way, but some stubborn part of her mind wouldn’t let her get away with it.
She crossed her legs and sighed. She didn’t mind the lust, actually. At one time or another, just about everyone in the X-men got a hot flash or two for everyone else, especially if they served together for a long time. It was only natural. She could handle lust. She wasn’t spooked by wanting to stroke a thin hand up Wanda’s thigh while she teased Bobby’s cock, or the other fantasies that visited her late at night and in her dreams. If it were just lust, she’d have seduced the both of them before tonight and got it all over with.
But it wasn’t. That was what frightened her. She wanted more. She wanted to see that delighted surprised look in Wanda’s eyes when she gave her a gift for no reason, on her birthday, and New Year’s, and Boxing Day too. She wanted to make Bobby laugh. She wanted to wake up in gentle arms, not caring who aroused her, and hold and be held afterward. She wanted to know for certain that it wasn’t like the others, that this time no one was leaving as soon as the deed was done. She wanted to keep their closeness forever.
She held her arms tightly to her chest. She knew their cell phone numbers by heart. She and Wanda had spent enough time sharing stories about how difficult their brothers were over the past several months, after all. And Bobby usually called her to laugh about some ridiculous movie or joke he’d pulled that day, but when he didn’t it was her custom to call him. She was not going to call them. Everything would just go back to normal. Wanda would go back to the Avengers, Bobby and she to the X-men, and she would get over them. Some day.
She was not going to call them.
She started up from the bed when she heard a sudden loud rapping at the door. “Betsy?” She put her right hand to her chest. It was Wanda.
“Go away!” she called.
“Aw, come on, Bets. Let us in.”
And Bobby. Bloody wonderful. “I said go away. I meant it.”
Her doorknob rattled, then turned. She scowled at it. Stupid cheap locks. Bobby came in first. He was wearing very little, just a thin undershirt and a cute pair of Mickey Mouse boxers. She decided to turn her anger on him before he could do something sweet and cool her off, ignoring her instant heat at the sight of his muscular form. “Get the hell out, Drake. I don’t want to see you or her here any more.” She looked away from him to the door.
Wanda walked in after him, carrying a champagne bottle and three glasses, and shut and locked the door after herself. She blinked in surprise. “I said to get the bloody hell out.” She turned her back on the others and waited for them to leave.
She heard a cork pop behind her and turned to see Wanda and Bobby pouring out the champagne at the small plastic table. “Sorry. We’re not going anywhere.” Wanda gave her a sweet smile.