Tight knuckles wrapped around your crossed arms as you listened in shock to the woman stood before you. Her words were catching your breath with every syllable and you felt your posture tense.
Instinctively you nodded along to her proposal pretending to contemplate the idea. It wasn’t often Melissa Schemmenti asked you for favors, so the fact she came to you for this particular one flattered you.
“Anyways, are you free?” she asked casually and you pulled yourself from your daze.
“I um, will have to think about it, I can let you know at the end of the day?” you suggested and she smiled.
“Sounds good hon, and if you are worrying about price or anything, it’s all covered so you won’t have to deal with that.” she was convinced and you smiled politely.
“I will keep that in mind Melissa.” you said waving yourself off to head to class.
You hardly had time to think about her favor, between class and needing to prepare for spring break, your mind was too caught up in the school. So when the bell rang and the last kid left, you finally took a breath and sat down, your head falling into your hands as you weighed your options.
Just then a knock was at your door and you heard the gentle footsteps of the redhead from across the hall. Your gaze looked up and you flashed a genuine smile at her greeting.
“Hey.” you said and she stepped closer.
“Hi hon, how was your day? We missed you at lunch.” she spoke in her velvety voice and you watched as she walked slowly past your desk.
“Yeah I don’t know how it happened but I'm so behind on stuff. I got a lot done though.” You stammered out and she flashed a smirk. You felt it surge into your chest and butterflies spread to your stomach almost instantly.
“So, did you give it more thought?” she turned to face you, her hands leaning on your desk.
You stayed silent a moment, thinking of what your response should be, what the pros and cons were of each choice.
“Miss L/n, can you be my plus one for the wedding? Or do I have to ask Mr. Johnson.” she pressed and you swallowed hard, your eyes staring widely into hers.
pros: you got to hang out with Melissa, and do her a favor in the process
cons: you had to go to a wedding full of her closest relatives whilst pretending to be her serious girlfriend
Normally, this wouldn’t be that big of an issue. Any one of your friends could have asked this of you and you wouldn't hesitate to help.
Melissa though, wasn’t your friend. More so you were hers. To you she was all you wanted in a woman. She was funny, kind, confident, smart, and so incredibly gorgeous.
So when she pulled you aside to ask you to go to her cousin's wedding as her very serious girlfriend, you were left dumbfounded. She stared at you with intense green eyes and your mouth flattened as you thought.
“I don’t know if it’s such a good idea Melissa.” you stated finally and she tilted her head with intrigue, sucking her teeth with a tick.
“And why's that?” she asked.
You took in a shaky breath and looked away out of intimidation.
“I don’t think I’m your best option for this... dynamic.” you muttered and she let out a small laugh.
“Look, we just have to mention that we are dating and recently moved in together, no one’s gonna be able to tell we are just ya know, friends.” she justified and you chewed your cheek.
“It’s only two days and I needed someone with…” she paused, stuck on how to describe her vision.
You couldn’t help the small smirk you flashed her as she stuttered for once.
“Someone like what?” you teased and she huffed, leaning closer to you.
“Someone charming but timid... attractive.” she said, her tone lowering on the last word. You felt your breath hitch in your chest and your throat grew dry.
Melissa watched the way you squirmed at her words and smiled to herself. She needed someone just like you, arm candy that could still hold their own in a conversation with strangers.
She really didn’t want it to mean anything, it was just a point she needed to prove to her family. It was growing more and more obvious she was sparsely dating after her divorce, so she needed to surprise her relatives with the news in a casual fashion. Not so obvious that she was shouting it to the room, but enough for them to know Melissa was able to secure a new partner.
This justification blinded Melissa to your true feelings. It allowed her to look past the genuine concerns behind your reddening cheeks and stammering voice. To the gluttonous woman you were just nervous about her persuasion.
“Okay i’ll do it.” you finally agreed and she smiled.
“Thank you hon, I owe you big time. I’ll text the details.” She winked and waved goodbye, not leaving much time to inquire about anything further.
Before you could really process and prepare for the trip, it had arrived. Melissa was picking you up early in the morning to drive the four hours deep into New Jersey. The wedding was the next day so you would have to spend the night, a fact you were certainly not looking past.
This would be the most intimate setting you had been in with the woman, and the longest time you have spent with her.
The whole drive you couldn't help but think of how little you knew about Melissa. You had seen her outside of work, in groups, and gotten to know her around others, but never just the two of you alone.
The only sounds filling the car was the sound of the road and the light music she had playing. You made note of the genre.
After the first thirty minutes Melissa parted her lips to speak softly. The softest you had ever heard the woman you noticed.
Before she even began, you turned your head to listen instinctively.
"Are you gonna be mute the whole drive there? Cause we have hours to go." She said with a smirk tugging at her lips. Her eyes met yours briefly before turning back to the road. You hummed a laugh and looked away.
"No, sorry. It's just early." you excused and she nodded.
"We can stop for coffee or something halfway." She suggested and you nodded.
Now was as good a time as any to get to know her, so after a beat of silence you thought of a question.
"So are you close with your cousin?" You asked casually and she teetered her head.
"Eh, kinda. A lot of close family will be there too though, but we don't come to see the family in Jersey very often." She answered and you nodded.
"Do you get out of Philly much?" you continued.
"Not as much as I'd like." she scoffed and you nodded in understanding.
"What about you? Any places you wanna go?" she asked and you smiled at her returning the inquiry.
Two hours and millions of questions and stories later, you felt significantly more comfortable in her presence. You had determined how to shove the butterflies down and continue a conversation with the woman in a fairly friendly manner. Any thoughts of her or lingering gazes were quickly shut down and ignored.
"Oh wow, it's already ten. Wanna stop? Otherwise we should be there at a quarter till noon." She spoke out and you hummed as you thought.
"Well you are driving, so it's up to you. I'm okay with anything."
"I say we go to the hotel, relax for a bit before the rehearsal dinner tonight." she said and you smiled.
"Sounds good" You agreed before looking out the window.
Your heart was thumping in your chest, spreading to your ears with a deafening rhythm. With great effort you hid your shaky breaths, thinking about seeing Melissa in a fancy outfit in such a personal setting made you nervous. It was hard to keep your thoughts of her friendly when you were going to be exceptionally close for the rest of the weekend.
It wasn't long before you were pulling into the parking lot of the hotel. Your eyes were attached to the large building, admiring the exquisite architecture of the large structure.
"I got one room, if that's okay. It's big, so we'll have our own space. It was a better deal." She mentioned casually, her eyes not meeting yours as she unloaded your bags for you, you were too confused to move after hearing the fact.
"Yeah, that's no problem." You nodded after a long pause, before grabbing your bags from her and following her inside.
The familiar chime of the hotel room door was music to your ears. Melissa pushed the handle and opened the door for you, revealing a large and very luxurious room. There were high ceilings with a large window on one wall that stretched the length of them. The view of the city was breathtaking and you couldn't help the giddy smile that came to your face as you walked in and looked around.
That naive smile quickly dropped when you saw the large king bed on the other side of the suite. Your gaze flicked around for a pull out couch or trundle bed but there was no such item. The couches were all beautifully ornate, and vintage but we certainly were not for sleeping.
"Oh Melissa, there must be a mistake. There is only one bed." You stated with innocence, turning to face the woman who was just as in awe of the place as you were.
"Hmm, I called to confirm they changed it to a double. I'll be right back."
"Ill come with." You said grabbing your bags and following her back downstairs.
You watched from beside a pillar as Melissa spoke with the woman at the front desk. You could see her getting more frustrated by the minute, the girl seemed apologetic and even flashed you a pitiful look.
After another minute you decided to intercept and walked up beside Melissa.
"Hi, I don't mean to interrupt, but we have just driven a very long way, and would like the room we reserved." You said simply and Melissa smirked at you, a creeping smile that informed you she found your bold actions somewhat humorous.
"Like I told her, we don't have any available rooms, we are all booked." She said and you huffed. As much as you didn't want to have to deal with being Melissa's fake girlfriend, sharing a room with her, and bed for that matter, you didn't want this poor worker to have to deal with the wrath of Melissa Schemmenti.
"Okay thank you. We will keep it. But we would like a discount on the room, extra toiletries, restock the mini bar, and complimentary room service." You stated and the nervous girl behind the monitor just nodded.
"That I can do." she said and you smiled. Melissa was staring at you in utter disbelief. Her hand swiped the key card from the desk and followed you back to the room.
"That was impressive, hon." She said with a light scoff.
"You make me look like a bad Italian for not cashing in on that." she added and you flashed a smile, trying to hide your reddening cheeks.
"Thanks, my dad was a salesman, he took us on a lot of business trips and he always said to get your money's worth." You stood as she inserted the key once again and opened the tall door. She listened intently, looking at you with intrigue as she held it open for you and shut it once she was in.
"Good skills to have. I think you'll get along with my family."
The words warmed your chest and you nodded politely. There was a moment of awkward silence before you both moved to unpack and hang up your dresses.
Once you were all settled in, you walked over to the window, peaking out at the city below.
"Well, we have a few hours before we have to get ready. Anything you wanna do?" she asked and you shrugged.
"I'm kind of hungry, know a good place to get a sandwich or something?" you asked as you turned to face the redhead. She had her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall, as if she was watching you in thought.
Suddenly she let out a crude giggle and you squinted in question. Her hand stuck out as she motioned you towards her with a nod.
"Yeah hon, I know a place." She laughed as her hand rested on your lower back to guide you to the door.
"I don't get what was so funny?" you said as you walked to the car and she looked at you with a knowing gaze.
"Nothing it's just-- we are in south Jersey... they say hoagie, say sandwich around my family and they are gonna laugh in your face." she finished and you stopped in your tracks.
The idea of Melissa's family laughing at you was overwhelming. You froze and suddenly grew very aware of the situation you had put yourself in. The reality crept in and you knew you were in over your head.
"Melissa, how are any of these people going to believe we are seriously dating?" You stated more so than asked and she looked at you as she opened her car door and you did the same, getting in the same motion as her.
"Just look pretty and limit interactions." She said simply, casually. In a way that made you think she had thought of all the possible outcomes already.
Once you got your food, Melissa and you sat in the deli, sharing a hoagie and people watching. You felt a bold confidence come over you now that you had resolved your hunger driven previously exhausted attitude.
"What would you have done if I said no?" You questioned and she looked up from her straw, lips pursed around it as she drank the cherry soda in a haze. Her brows now furrowed together and she smirked, though her long hesitation didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Well, I guess I would have just stayed home." She shrugged and you nodded. The more you thought of her answer, the more your insides grew confused.
"But I thought the point of me coming was to convince your family you are in a long-term relationship?" You muttered and she sighed gently.
"It is, and I didn't want to bring a stranger. You were the only option really." She stated and your shoulders fell.
"Oh well, that makes me feel so good." You joked and she shook her head, her hand resting on yours in reassurance.
"I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't even consider anyone else." She corrected and you looked into her dark green eyes, searching for a hint of mischief but you were blind to any that may have resided in her forested gaze.
The moment you got back to the hotel Melissa was laying out all the things she needed to get ready for the evening. You admired her as you got ready as well. While you were fixing your hair you took note of the way she applied her makeup and the order she took to when getting ready.
With a shaky hand you added the final touches to your eye makeup and you heard the familiar velvety voice from behind you.
"Okay, I am going to get dressed in the bathroom." She said and you hummed an acknowledgment. It made sense to you that while she was in there getting dressed, you could just change out in the room. So you quickly slipped your clothes off and reached for your dress.
As you were sliding it up your legs, your back to the bathroom door, you failed to hear the sound of it opening.
By the time Melissa looked up the dress was at least over your hips. Still she saw the way you slinked your arms into the straps and then attempted to zip it up. A crooked smile came to her face as she took gentle steps over to you, her hands reaching out softly until they met yours.
There was a small flinch that rippled through you at her sudden presence, causing your head to twist over your shoulder to meet her gaze.
"Oh hi." you said softly and she smiled.
"Need some help?" She said, though her fingers were already gripping the zipper and slowly dragging it up.
"Yes, thank you." You stammered out, your breath catching in your chest as you felt her manicured nails dragging up your spine.
Once her fingers reached the top, she linked the small clasp then smoothed the fabric with her hands. You felt the warmth that followed her and it was beginning to melt your protective walls.
"There you go." She said before twisting you around to see you in full, proper view. You mindlessly followed her instructions and faced her with red cheeks.
You also finally got a full look at the woman's outfit and you let in a small gasp. Heavy eyes traced over her frame, admiring the way her pants hugged her hips and her shirt exposed her cleavage.
"Wow, you look absolutely stunning." You said and she smiled.
"Thank you, hon." she nodded before reaching up to run her fingers through the tips of your hair. You watched in awe and her smile softened.
"You look, perfect." she spoke in her velvety voice and heat spread through your stomach. The approval you subconsciously needed had been fulfilled and you felt confident you were presentable for her family.
The both of you, without a doubt, agreed to down a shooter from the mini bar in your room before arriving to the rehearsal dinner in one of the private dining rooms that the hotel housed. It was an unspoken nod to one another, and a gaze flicking to the sleek steel cooler. You grabbed vodka to cleanse your palate of nerves, and Melissa just held out her hand. You froze for a moment, you would surely be judged on which liquor you choose for the woman. After a moment you reached for one of the darker mini bottles, but your hand pulled to the gin and you handed it to her.
"Salud!" she smirked, twisting the cap off without sparing the label a glance. You followed suit and raised it to her with a smile before you both downed the liquid.
"Good pick." She nodded with a smile as she threw the empty bottle to the trash bin, grabbing the empty one from your hands to do the same. You stood recovering from the strong clear liquid for a moment before nodding and grabbing your small purse.
The chatter of people could be heard from down the hall as you approached the entrance to the dining room. The long hallways with tall ceilings carried the noises and you grew thankful for the liquor burning hot in your stomach, slowly spreading through you.
The heat moved to your lower back and you looked down, realizing it was Melissa's hand guiding you down the hall.
"Okay, ready sweetie? Remember to just act natural and like you're in love with me. Can't be that hard right?" She joked, her voice low so the people following in a few feet behind couldn't hear.
A deep breath cleansed your lungs as you nodded and met her gaze.
"Dial down the cockiness will ya? It's making me more anxious. Otherwise, yes, I am ready." You agreed and she laughed, her arm pulling you in closer.
"Anything for you, darling." she said in a faux, drawn out yet seductive tone.
You flashed a smile and right as you met the doors that opened into the large room, Melissa squeezed your hip and placed a gentle peck to your cheek. The skin immediately reddened at the action and your eyes went wide.
"Let's get the show started." She whispered as you entered the room and her face lit up as she began to recognize her family.
You managed to get settled within the first half hour of mingling, before people sat down to eat and listen to the speeches.
Melissa made her rounds and you stayed clung to her like a fish to a shark. She would introduce you and ask how their family was and you would just stand there smiling. Occasionally they would direct a question your way and you did your best to reply in a rather neutral manner, Melissa’s gaze sharpening on you as she monitored your answers.
“Okay I see my sisters over there they must be with my mom.” She said, her hand sliding down your arm to grasp your hand. You watched and felt the nerves rising to your cheeks quickly.
She began to walk over, your arm straightening but your feet wouldn't move, she stopped and faced you with a confused frown. You shook your head with big eyes and she flashed a relaxing smile.
“I can’t do this. I'm way over my head here-- we, we are way over our heads. I never should have agreed to this.” You started to ramble and she quickly grew concerned, pulling you to a nearby corner that was somewhat hidden from the large groups of chatting people.
“What’s going on hon?” she asked and you bit your tongue.
How were you to tell her that your confusing feelings for her were making it impossible to not freak out? You cared deeply if her family liked you, not because you ever thought you actually had a chance with the woman, but because some twisted part of you yearned for their approval of you. If anything, you hoped they could open her eyes.
“I really enjoy our friendship Melissa, but there is no way I can pretend to be your lover.” You scoffed and she tilted her head.
“It’s a little late for that.” she stated and you looked at her with worried eyes.
“Why do you care so much about what my family thinks?” she asked and you chewed your cheek as you thought of a vague version of the truth.
Nothing came to you and a long silence fell between you. All you could do was look away and fidget with your ring.
“Y/n.” she said and your jaw twitched. She stepped closer and your breathing grew slow.
“Sweetie,” she started, her hand coming to your chin to make you face her, “it’s going to be okay, you are overthinking it.”
Something about the look in her softened eyes and the sweetness of her words, relaxed you. It reassured you, and you felt you could trust her. You nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat.
The both of you approached her group of sisters, Melissa clearing her throat to get their attention. Like the parting of the sea, the group fan around to face you, revealing what you understood to be her mother.
“Melissa. Didn't think you were gonna make it.” One woman spoke and Melissa grinned.
“It's good to see you Mary.” Melissa said respectfully and you were surprised at her suddenly uptight manner.
“Mom, how are you?” She asked and the older brunette woman smiled. Her eyes drifted to you and you shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Melissa could sense your uncertainty, but she had no way to reassure you.
“Fine. Same as always.” She spoke confidently and Melissa nodded, her hand came to the small of your back and she opened her mouth to introduce you.
“So who is the frightened little girl you brought with you?” A blonde woman spoke and Melissa’s hand pressed harder against you.
“This is Y/n L/n. She is a teacher at Abbott with me.” She said and they all smiled, then she looked at you and you leaned into her slightly, casually.
Your eyes locked with her moms and you knew immediately she understood. At least what you wanted her to.
“She is also my-”
“Lesbian lover?” her mom interrupted and you tensed at the phrase. To some degree you were just trying not to laugh.
Melissa’s lips tightened to a line and she shook her head.
“Not the way I would phrase it, but yes. She is my partner and we live together.” She finished and all of the women stared blankly at her.
As if they acted on command, Melissa’s mother looked you up and down and hummed. Her sisters in response did similar observatory glances and you flashed a helpless gaze to Melissa. There was a sudden consciousness that came over you, allowing you to temporarily interact socially like a regular person.
“It’s very nice to finally meet you all, Melissa talks fondly of her family.” You nodded and looked around to see the reactions of your statement. You looked at Melissa and she had a proud smile on her cheeks.
“And why Melissa have I not met her before?” Her mom inquired and your brows furrowed as you looked to the redhead for her reply.
For once the bold and catty woman was caught on what to say.
“I wanted to make sure it was serious before I introduced her to everyone.” She answered genuinely and you kicked yourself for doubting her ability to think of a simple yet effective reply.
“Hmm, well it’s good to meet you then. Enjoy the wedding.” she said and you nodded.
“Thank you, it was lovely to meet you-- all of you.” You said extending it to her sisters. That’s when you realized you didn't actually get any of their names aside from Mary.
“I actually didn't get your names.” you stated and they smiled.
“Toni,” one woman said with a nod and you smiled.
“Kristin Marie.” the blonde said and you nodded. She was one you actually had heard about.
After Melissa closed out the conversation and you went to find your seats at the table, she finally let out a narrow breath.
“Wow, that was intense. But you handled it very well.” She said and you shook your head.
“Sorry if I said too much--” you started and she stopped you, her hand resting on your shoulder.
“No hon you did great.” She smiled softly and you felt butterflies travel through your stomach to your chest.
Dinner came and went and people were roaming around talking once again. Melissa said you had gotten the majority of introductions out of the way prior to dinner, so now all that was left was her cousins and the bride and groom. This fact was not only intimidating but you had consumed a few drinks during your meal and you feared this would cause a more awkward aura to you now than you intended, especially since you were here as a guest.
“Can I get one more to just sip on?” you asked, slowly walking back to the bar. Melissa smiled, her hand was in yours and you were both getting comfortable with the act you were putting on.
“Actually, it looks like the groom and some of my brothers are over there, so sure, let's get you something.” She nodded and you suddenly straightened up, now annoyed that your mind wasn't very sharp in your current state, especially to deal with a group of men.
“Well if it isn't the Tony’s” She said much more casually than she addressed the ladies. Her voice was more natural now, comfortable.
The men turned around and smiled, moving to hug the woman.
“Hey Mel, how are you?” One said and she smiled.
“Good, how are you two?” She asked and they nodded.
“Just working, you know how it is.” the other said and she nodded. Her head turned to you and she pulled you closer with a gentle grip to your arm.
“This is, Y/n, we live together.” She said and they nodded, not really caring to ask questions.
“Nice to meet you.” You said and they returned the sentiment.
“Where is Robby, did he bail on his dinner rehearsal already?” she asked, and they shrugged.
“We lost him a while ago, he may be off with Kat.” he wiggled his brows and she laughed.
While one of her brothers was asking you standard small-talk questions, Melissa ordered you a clear soda with some cherries and handed it to you with a casual smile. She didn't want you to get too nervous around everyone, or lose control of yourself.
“Woah look who it is!” You suddenly heard a man speak out towards the bar and you tried to see who it was coming from through the sea of tall men.
“Melissa-- I didn't think you came to these things.” The man said stepping closer, there was a man following close behind, he was taller and more handsome.
“Vinny hey, good to see ya..” She stopped as her eyes drifted to the man behind him. You came to stand closer, sipping silently on your drink.
“Joe-” She said and your eyes went wide.
The man flashed her a sympathetic gaze, his eyes softening when they landed on her. Melissa looked irritated to see the man, but you could see how her body turned towards him.
“Hey doll.” he said softly, moving to give her a gentle hug and you watched in a shocked silence. “You look good.” He added.
“Thanks, you too.” She said and you felt your cheeks flush at the exchange.
“Well, we are going to get some drinks, see you at the ceremony tomorrow?” Vinny asked and Melissa nodded.
“Yeah, see ya.” She said with a smile before grabbing your glass from your hand and setting it on the bar, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room.
“Woah, wait-- Melissa. We didn’t find the bride or groom.” You stated and she rolled her eyes as she stopped in the large hallway.
“I just need some air.” she said and you nodded. Your eyes caught the glimpse of a patio and you moved towards it, your hands still being interlocked with hers allowed you to bring her with you. She followed without protest and you opened the doors to step out on the balcony, the cold air enveloping you instantly.
She let out a sigh of relief and you cursed yourself for the thoughts you had at the noise. After a few minutes of cool silence filled by the sounds of cars passing and people inside chattering, you opened your mouth to speak.
“Feeling better?” you asked and she nodded, her eyes sparkling with reflections of the city in front of you.
“Didn’t know he would be here.” she added.
“When was the last time you saw him in person?” you asked and she shrugged.
“Years ago at my Nonnas funeral.” she answered simply and you hummed with compassion laced in the small sound.
“This is so silly, I don’t know why I feel so… weird and suffocated.” she muttered as she shook her head. Your hand came to rest on her arm.
“You’re not silly. It’s a completely normal reaction.” you reassured her and she sighed.
“I don’t know what I was thinking— making you do this.” she said and your lips pulled to a slight frown as you allowed her to continue.
“I’m sure I'll always be messed up cause of Joe, that’s the real reason I'm not really out there. He did a number on me.” she said with an almost uncatchable quiver in her tone.
“Melissa listen to me, you are not the reason you’re single. People are just… crazy these days.” You tried your best to reassure the woman, but you weren’t sure your words were having the effect you needed them to.
“Hon, it’s okay, I'm obviously just not meant for anyone. I mean I'm kinda crazy if you haven’t noticed.” she said, gesturing between the two of you. You smiled softly.
“You aren’t crazy, people would be lining up to marry you if they knew they had a shot.” You said lightheartedly. She turned to lock eyes with you and you felt your face heat up as your eyes searched hers.
As she admired your soft smile and noticed the flush to your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled back at her, she smiled softly, unsure she believed your words. The caterpillar in her chest began to wiggle and as her eyes drug down to your lips, the insect hatched and butterflies swarmed into her stomach. Her pupils traced the dark outline of your mouth, the way your lips pursed and grew pink as they flushed and turned up.
“You really think so?” she asked softly, under her breath with her eyes snapping up to yours.
You felt the air filling your chest go cold, her question digging its nails into your lungs. A small nod was all you could muster as you thought of words to deflect your feelings.
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” you stated simply, hoping the words would allude to enough possibilities that the woman would be left confused yet reassured.
“Y/n, can I ask you something?” she looked away as the question lingered on her tongue and you sucked in breath before nodding.
The confident redhead let out a sigh before turning back to you with a quaint smile, a soft endearing grin that you hadn’t seen before. It warmed your chest and stomach and you eagerly waited for her to speak.
Right as she was about to ask you, a figure appeared at the door, walking out to unintentionally interrupt your conversation. It was Joe. Your blood began to simmer when your eyes locked on him, both Melissa and you standing up straight. Your arm brushed hers as you both pushed off the balcony railing and faced the man.
“Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to interrupt.” he said and Melissa nodded and you bit back the scoff that tried to escape your throat.
“What’s up Joe?” she asked with a kind tone and you furrowed your brows at her niceness. You almost felt the bitter taste of jealousy flood your mouth at the sight of her pink cheeks and attentive eyes.
“I was just stepping out for a smoke, but I can go downstairs.” he said and you smiled at his offer but Melissa quickly shook her head.
“It’s okay, we were just heading back in.” She stated and you nodded in agreement despite the confusion you felt.
“Actually Mel, can we talk?” he asked and your eyes quickly snapped to Melissa’s that were locked on the tall man’s.
The fiery woman finally looked to you and you tried to remain neutral but couldn’t help the pleading in your eyes. Subconsciously you were asking the woman to not leave you alone and to especially not leave herself alone with the man she had just been complaining about.
“Sure, I'll be inside in a bit. Hon, why don’t you get a drink?” she suggested and you felt a bitter cold flush through you. It wasn’t a wild request, but to you it felt like a betrayal after the conversation you had just had with her.
Still you obeyed, nodding and walking towards the doors, flashing one last glare to the back of Joe’s head that only Melissa caught.
“I’ll be at the bar if you need me then.” you said before slipping off the patio and heading towards the large doors to the dining room.
The doors seemed even larger now that you approached them all alone. You peeked inside, taking note of how there appeared to be a few less people, all the older folks already having turned in for the night. A tense jaw turned to the glass doors at the end of the hall.
You could see Joe's large frame talking to Melissa with a heartfelt hand gesture, and she nodded along with a soft smile. A heavy huff left your lips and you turned to walk inside and b-lined for the bar.
“Vodka martini please, extra dry, extra olives.” you said annoyed and the bartender nodded quickly and began to prepare the drink.
Judgmental eyes observed the room. The small groups of people chattering along the walls, the laughter erupting from groups of men sharing iconic tales from their families lives they’d shared countless times before. It all warmed your heart in the grand scheme of things, but when you realized why you were here, and your role in the evening, you frowned. As you collected your drink you felt someone come sit beside you.
“Where’s Melissa?” Kristin Marie asked and you straightened up.
“Oh she is just catching up with Joe.” you said and the blonde made a catty, disapproving expression.
“Wow, you must really trust her.” she scoffed and your brows flattened.
“Why do you say that?” you ask, taking a sip of the strong drink.
“Everyone knows Joe broke her heart, we just thought she was still single all this time cause she was still in love with him.” she joked, her jabs to Melissa went over your head as you looked in the direction of the door.
“What?” you asked and she laughed.
“Yeah it was messy, but Melissa didn’t want the divorce. She fought hard for it to work. In the end he chose his secretary.” she said casually, without remorse for her sister and despite what her words meant you were still angry with the blonde for speaking about your— about Melissa, like this.
“Melissa is with me now, we are in love, and she’s over Joe.” You stated simply, kicking yourself for such a mundane response.
“Bullshit.” she said and you cocked your head to face her.
“What?” you said frightened and she scoffed.
“My sisters and Mom may have fallen for it, but I know what she’s gotten you to agree to, Pretty Woman.” she laughed and you looked down, quickly throwing back the rest of your martini.
“No I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. We have been together for almost two years now! She never even mentions Joe.” You said smugly but Kristin just sucked her teeth with a cocky grin.
“I’m not here to out your little scheme, but if I were you, I wouldn’t leave her with him for too long.” she said before slipping out of the barstool and walking away.
You waited til the woman was out of sight before you shot up and practically ran to the door, as soon as you reached the hallway you looked down to the glass doors. It had grown darker out and it was harder to see them through the glares on the glass. With squinted eyes you watched as Melissa cupped Joe’s face with a smile and tilt to her head.
A fire rushed up through you, prickling at your ears as you walked elegantly towards them. Your feet carried you with fervor and you felt as if you were dismantling a bomb, seconds counting down til disaster.
Right as your hand was about to meet the handle the door opened and Melissa almost collided with you. She was clearly flustered, her chest and cheeks red and you felt your last bits of hope get stripped from you.
“Oh hey.” she said softly as she began to walk down the hall and you followed close beside.
“Is everything okay?” you asked and she nodded, pausing to face you.
“Yeah, were you okay alone?” she asked and your gaze faltered from hers with an ashamed drag.
“Um, I think Kristin Marie knows…” You said, still not looking at her and she sighed, her hands finding her hips.
“I leave you alone for twenty minutes and you manage to tell my least favorite sister that I brought my coworker to a wedding to play as my date.” She said in a hushed and annoyed tone and you raised a defensive finger.
“To be fair, you should not have left me alone like that! I mean what did Joe even want?” you asked with a bitterness in your words.
Melissa looked away at the mention of his name and her shoulders tensed up, telling you whatever he had said to her was clearly the reason for her sudden mellow behaviour. Her feet moved to round a nearby corner for at least some privacy and you followed, looking back to see Joe heading inside to the dining room.
“Well? Did he say something to you? Do I need to have a… kind word with him?” you said with a polite smirk and she smiled softly at the question.
“He’s divorced, again.” She said and you felt your heart freeze up with a shock.
“Oh.” was all you could mutter before swallowing to clear your throat of its sudden dryness. “And how do you feel about that?” You inquired, once again hitting yourself for your dumbly selected, generic phrasing.
“Confused.” was all she said as she moved to lean against the wall.
“Melissa, do you still have real feelings for him?” you blurted out and she looked at you, clearly caught off guard.
“I don’t know. I’d like to think not, but then again when he told me I felt… strange.” She muttered and you tilted your head, coming to stand against the wall beside her.
“In what way?” You pressed gently and she shrugged.
“I can't explain it, I was happy but also annoyed.” she shook her head with her words, unsure she believed them herself.
“Like the old version of you was happy for a chance, but now you know you can't really take it without fucking up your whole life.” You rambled and her head turned to face you slowly with a baffled smirk. She scoffed out a short laugh and you rubbed your neck nervously.
“Yeah that's pretty close I’d say.” She laughed and you nodded.
“Sorry, I know it isn't easy having to bring me here, then running into him, and your sister finding out.” Your head hung low and her hand came to grab yours, her fingers interlocking as she kept her gaze forward.
“It’s okay, I'm glad to be here with you. The rest is just… noise.” She said casually and you felt your heart thump at her reply as you both looked at one another with softened eyes.
There was a sudden peace that fell over the both of you, your hands still locked together as you soaked in the comfortable silence. Questions roamed your mind but you refused to voice them, not wanting the words to cause her to release your hand. Like the mind reader she was, Melissa read one inquiry and voiced the same concern.
“I’m kind of over it all, want to just go back to the room?” she asked and you turned to face her with a large grin, nodding your head softly.
“I think that is a wonderful idea, why don't you head up there and get settled and I will steal some adult sized bottles from the bar.” You raised a brow and she smiled.
“Okay, but try not to do any interviews with family.” She joked and you giggled with a playful roll of your eyes.
Her hand released yours and your limb went cold at the loss of touch, but your cheeks warmed when she passed you and flashed a smirk with a wink.
With two bottles of champagne in hand, the only thing you could convince the bartender to give you, you headed up to your shared room with haste. As you walked you realized how sore your feet had grown and how anxious your body had become. It was unclear to you why you felt so nervous, but you knew the night ahead of you would either calm those incessant tingles or would only make them stronger.
You knocked on the door with the bottle and not long after Melissa was opening it. She had a deep red satin nightgown on with a black lace trim. You couldn't tell if it was lingerie or just a short slip dress, but the hotel robe she wore over it gave you an excuse for your staring.
“Wow this place is fancy.” You said, stepping into the room and holding up the bottles to support your comment.
“There is an extra in the bathroom, you can get changed if you want me to pour us some and put a movie on or something.” She suggested and you felt your cheeks flush at the domesticity and comfort that manifested between the two of you.
Two hours, two bottles of champagne, and two mini shooters each later, Melissa and you were sitting on opposite ends of the bed, her back resting against the headboard as you lay on your side with your head propped on your elbow. You were both laughing about the odd things you had witnessed at work and your eyes were straining to focus on her face as opposed to her silky smooth legs that splayed out beside you.
You weren't sure what you were feeling in the moment, but you knew you wanted nothing more than to trace kisses up her legs and worship her body. After a moment the giggles faded out and you let out a small sigh as you finished the last of your champagne. The redhead's eyes drifted to the clock and she frowned.
“Wow, it’s late. We should probably get ready for bed.” She sighed and you nodded, sitting up and reaching to collect her empty glass and bottles. You felt the alcohol running in your veins and it was clear she did too. Her hair was draped around her shoulders and you resisted the urge to feather your hands through the silky ends.
“I had fun, Y/n. Thanks for… everything.” She said with a liquor-laced tone and you dismissed her.
“No ‘thank you’ necessary. I'm having a very nice time so far.” You smiled, your hand reaching past her for the bottle beside her, allowing your faces to be a few inches from one another. You swore her eyes flickered to your lips as yours met hers, then traced over your face as you pulled away with the bottle in hand.
She swallowed hard, looking up at you with sparkling green eyes.
“I am really glad you are here.” She said softly and you smiled, your head tilting as you looked into her hazy eyes.
“Me too.” you nodded with integrity and she smiled.
It wasn't until the two of you were laying in bed, comfortable and attempting to doze off with the faint glow of the TV on, that you recalled your earlier conversation that had been interrupted. Suddenly the question flooded your mind and you felt it burst from your lips in a hushed whisper.
“Melissa?” You started and she hummed.
“Yeah?”
“Earlier, you said you were gonna ask me something, what was it?” You said softly and she went silent for a moment.
“Oh, when?” she stammered slightly and you cleared your throat.
“Um, before we were interrupted by, what’s-his-face.” The last words were muttered from your lips as you hesitated bringing him up.
“You can say his name, it’s okay. But I um, I don’t actually remember. I’m sure it’ll come to me.” She stated and you nodded, staring at the ceiling and tracing shapes.
“Hmm, well night, Melissa.” you hummed before turning to face away from her and she nodded before doing the same.
“Goodnight, hon.”
The ceremony was in an hour and Melissa and you were scrambling to finish getting ready, applying last minute touches and factoring in the commute to the chapel that was thankfully fairly close. Melissa managed to finish before you and yelled from the living room of the suite to reach your ear in the bathroom.
“I’m going to go pull the car up, are you ready to be down there in five?” she asked and you spoke through your lips as you applied the subtle lip liner.
“Yeah I’m almost ready!” You agreed and not long after you heard her step out.
When you walked out the front doors of the hotel, Melissa was waiting beside the passenger side of the door and you felt your legs go weak at the immediate sight of her, she was looking away, observing something in the distance. The sun illuminated her hair and her figure was hugged by a dark green dress with gorgeous detailing. Her cleavage was on display and you used all your willpower to look away.
“Damn Melissa, you look… absolutely amazing.” You blurted out and her gaze snapped to yours, a dazzling smile and red cheeks appearing on her face.
Unlike you, Melissa didn't think to avert her gaze. Instead her sharp eyes followed your eyes down to your chest and then admired your frame that was accentuated by your perfect fitting attire. It made her chest shrink as she stared, her mouth growing dry by the second. Her gaze was intense and bordering on possessive as she smirked.
The duration of her gaze made you grow self conscious and you awkwardly tucked away some hair behind your ear as you looked away.
“Well don't just stare, do I look okay? Should I change?” You looked down and gestured to the outfit, knowing you brought a spare in case she thought her family would dislike it.
“God no! I mean-- it’s perfect. Let’s go.” She stammered, moving to open the door for you and you soaked up the clear affect you had on the woman.
When you finally found your seats in the large church, you motioned for Melissa to have the aisle and you moved to sit beside her, once other guests filled in as well, you had to scoot closer and you felt your clothed thighs brushing one another. You looked down as your breath hitched in your chest at the contact. Your eyes hooded as you attempted to stare nonchalantly.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman, today we have gathered to witness the love between this man and this woman, being bound together for eternity.” The priest started and everyone watched with quaint smiles.
During the couple's vows you noticed Melissa’s knee began to shake and your eyes flicked to her profile. Observing pupils traced the outline of her nose and lips, taking notice of her furrowing brows and tightening lips. You wondered if this had to do with Joe or if you were reading too far into it.
However, when the couple exchanged I do’s and then rings, Melissa looked down and away for a brief moment. Quick enough to appear as a casual adjustment, but the timing proved it was her reacting to certain feelings bubbling up in her chest.
As you looked ahead, you moved your hand to hold hers reassuringly. She looked up at you but you were staring at the couple sharing their first wedded kiss. She smiled and looked in the same direction, her hand gently squeezing yours back.
After the ceremony, everyone flooded out of the church and made their way to the parking lot to drive to the reception hall. Once you were out of earshot from most, you asked Melissa a question with great hesitation.
“Are you okay?” Your voice was soft but managed to cut through the silence on the short walk to the car.
“Yeah, hon, I’m okay.” She said sweetly and your chest hurt at her words but you nodded, getting in the car and following the line of others leaving.
“It was beautiful.” You replied as you gazed out the window at the surrounding landscapes.
“Yeah? I thought the vows were a little cheesy.” she said lightheartedly and you giggled.
“Oh, they definitely were. I meant more the aesthetic of it all, that church was so elegant.” You added and she hummed.
“Do you think you’ll get married in a church?” she questioned casually with a nervous core that you barely caught wind of. You shifted uncomfortably and shrugged.
“Um, I'm not sure. What about you?” you asked mindlessly to get the heat off of you and then you noticed just what you had stupidly inquired.
“I did.” She said simply and you nodded. “To be honest I'm not sure I wanna get married again.” She added and your head snapped to face her.
“What? Really?” You said shocked and she nodded.
“Been there done that, I don't need a piece of paper--or priest, to tell me my partner can’t leave me when I’m dying, or cheat on me. Lord knows they don’t work anyways.” She rambled and you smiled at her insistence.
You thought this fact would sadden you, but watching Melissa talk in her lively tone despite the content of her rant made your heart warm.
“Not even a small ceremony with no legal stuff?” You suggested and she flashed an unsure frown.
“What about for financial reasons?” You challenged and she hummed.
“Now that, I would consider.” She smirked and you laughed, pulling the noise from her chest as well.
The line to the ladies restroom was longer than you would have appreciated, but you managed to make small talk with a younger woman beside you, talking about how gorgeous and ornate everything was. The reception’s dinner was exquisite, and everyone was mingling before speeches and dances began. Melissa was making her rounds, catching up with the family she liked the least first as you wandered around. Eventually you realized you needed to stop after the few drinks you had downed so you didn't get too buzzed.
As you waited you saw Melissa across the room, talking with Vinny and a man who you didn't recognize. You watched as she lit up and laughed, surely firing jokes by the way her nose crinkled and her cheeks flushed.
Suddenly, like the grim reaper appearing to kill any ounce of life, Joe appeared. He walked up to the trio with a large smile directed to Melissa. You squeezed your fist unconsciously, nails digging moons into your palms as you watched Melissa stuck in a circle of men, and once again Joe being one of them.
Her smile faded slightly at the sight of him and you moved to walk over when you noticed you were next in line, and your bladder was growing weak by the second.
Ultimately you stayed put, but your eyes remained on them, observing his stance and the way he gestured towards her. You squinted to try and read lips but soon you heard a stall open and hurried into it.
Once you were finished you ran to the bar for two drinks and then hastily made your way over to Melissa. As you grew closer you slowed down to appear more casual, and you slithered in beside her.
“Hey Mel, I brought you a drink.” You said and she accepted it smiling, flashing a knowing glance your way.
“Thanks, sweetie. Everyone, this is Y/n.” She introduced you and your brow twitched at the lack of title. You wondered if this was intentional or a mistaken habit so you just waved.
“Joe. Nice to meet you, you a coworker of Mel’s?” Joe asked and you felt your shoulders tense at his use of your nickname for the woman. Once she rarely let anyone aside from you and Barb use, and apparently Joe.
You looked at Melissa, unsure what to say but you knew people in the family talked, and the whole reason for you to be here was to be her girlfriend.
“Yes I am, we also live together.” you stated simply and she looked up at you with a smirk before turning back to face the men to see their reaction.
The plan did not go as expected however considering the men were so doubtful of Melissa’s queerness they didn’t consider that as an option, and merely thought you were roommates.
“So I heard you are in a pretty serious relationship, is that right?” Vinny directed towards Melissa with a quirky brow and you held back the roll your eyes attempted at his delayed thinking.
“Vinny, this is her.” She said smartly, her free hand snaking around your waist and her head tilting to you. “You think I would still have a roommate at my age?” she said sarcastically and the other men nodded in understanding.
Joe furrowed his brows but just nodded, his eyes clearly scanning over Melissa and then you. It was as if he was trying to make sense of it all. You felt slightly threatened, but then reminded yourself you were young, attractive, and had Melissa. Whereas Joseph had none of those things.
“Oh I'm a schmuck, sorry Mel.” Vinny patted her and she shook her head reassuringly.
“Well I will catch you guys later, I'm going to go find my Mother.” She said and they nodded her off and you followed her lead, her hand still on your waist, causing warmth to spread throughout your hip and back.
“Well that went well I think.” You said and she nodded.
“I don't know, I think Joe may be skeptical. He’s always been good at calling my bluff.” She said nervously and you stopped, holding her arm gently to pause her.
“I think you are just overthinking it.” You convinced her and she nodded, sipping down the rest of her drink before guiding you around the tables of people and making small introductions.
After what felt like hours you seemed to have said hello to every person in the room. Kristin Marie had flashed an intense gaze as you spoke few words to her mother, mostly standing quiet in your role as arm candy.
The speeches made you tear up and Melissa was quick to notice, her hand rubbing your lower back gently and you leaned into it slightly. You were soft when it came to events like this, the empathy tugging inside you and bringing happy tears. It was like crying during a really good rom-com.
When people began to dance you watched with a faint smile. The bride and groom took to the center and looked so happy it brewed envy in your typically cheerful core. While you imagined Melissa and you out there as well, her hands gripping your waist with your bodies pressed together, faces inches apart. You knew it would be slightly awkward and weren't going to bring the idea up unless she asked you.
“Want another?” You asked, pointing to her glass, deciding it was finally time for another drink. She nodded and you stood and moved to the bar that had a longer line than it possessed earlier in the evening.
As if it had become his plan, the moment you stepped away Joe was on his way to Melissa. Getting her alone again he walked over to her and began talking. Your brows furrowed and you held your breath as your cheeks grew red in frustration. Soon you felt your legs shake when you saw his hand extend to her. You watched closely as she hesitated before accepting and your knuckles gripped tightly around your full glass, bringing it to your lips to take long sips.
He took her to the floor and slid his hand on her hip, you took another gulp as she placed her hand on his shoulder. It was an infuriating sight but you felt completely hopeless. Even though you were here to be her date, you weren't sure how far you were supposed to go, how seriously you were to take it.
If Melissa really was your partner, you would have been over there before he could have even gotten the question in. Instead you had to watch, as daggers shoved through your chest and she beamed up at him, laughing at whatever idiotic comment he had made.
You were unsure how long you had allowed yourself to just stare, but you eventually brought the drinks to your seats, making eye contact with Melissa as you sat. She flashed a smile and you just nodded, looking away uncomfortably. Although your eyes drifted back to the scene, you felt embarrassed, like you should be stepping in. So that is what you did.
A firm finger tapped on the tall shoulder of the aggravating man and he turned, Melissa clearly surprised to see you on the floor.
“Mind if I take over?” You asked and the man hesitated, not dropping the redhead's hand.
“Yeah, of course.” He said before finally stepping away and you smiled.
“I got to be honest, at first I thought this was a ploy to get your Ma off your back.” He joked and Melissa laughed as you looked at her with slight fear.
“Well, if I hadn't met her I'm sure It would have come to that.” She replied and you moved your hand to rest on her hip, Joe's eyes following the motion. You eyed him up and down, a silent threat that he received.
“It was good to see you, find me before you leave, yeah?” he said looking back at her and she nodded and watched as he walked away.
“I am so sorry.” She said and you faced her with a shrug.
“For what? It would have been rude to decline. I get it.” You smiled and her eyes flickered between yours as her hands came to rest on your waist. You placed yours on her upper arms, holding her intimately, naturally as your feet began to sway.
“You really are a wonderful partner.” she giggled and you blushed.
“I take my job very seriously.” you said with furrowed brows and a tough tone.
“I mean it, kid. You always know just what to say, you’re very understanding.” She added and your heart warmed at the integrity in her voice.
A classic slow song came on and you felt a dark cloud loom over you, knowing your heart was far more into this than hers. Still her words lingered with a sweetness that slowly rebuilt your confidence, this combined with her grip on your waist and the look sparkling in her green eyes.
“Has my being here really helped?” You asked and she tilted her head knowingly.
“Are you kidding? Do you know how many conversations I was spared having you here? Of course you are helping.” She said in her lovingly raspy voice and you nodded bashfully.
“And everyone seems to believe it?” you asked in a hushed tone.
“Yeah for the most part.” She stammered, her eyes moving to the crowd around you. “I think Joe is still iffy.” She added and your eyes met the man standing near a table of other relatives playing cards. He met your gaze and flashed a puzzled look.
“Does it matter if he doesn't?" You asked, looking back to her and she shrugged.
“I’d like to think not, but he is a different man now, one I don’t know too well.” She stated and you hummed. An idea came to your mind that you decided to ease into.
“Melissa, can I ask you something?” You inquired softly and she nodded.
“Always.”
Your eyes flickered back to Joe, raking over his appearance then looking at the woman standing close to you.
“Do you think if Joe hadn't cheated, you would still be with him now?” You asked and she looked down, thinking of her reply.
“No. I think I’d have gotten bored with him.” She said simply and your eyes stuck to hers.
“Besides, if I hadn't ever gotten divorced I would have never spent this weekend with you.” she added and you smiled.
The thoughts in your mind grew louder. Screams that the woman was hinting she may feel similarly to you, or that maybe she was realizing your true emotions flooded your mind and you took in a shaky breath. Joe's gaze was still on you, and it made it feel like everyone was staring as well. Like they were breaking apart your relationship and spreading out the scraps to analyze.
“I have an idea to really lock the plan down, do you trust me?” You muttered softly to her ear and her brows grew serious as she nodded.
“Of course, hon.” She stated and before she said another word you pulled her into a kiss. Your lips pressing against her soft, unsuspecting ones.
It was a simple and tasteful kiss, but left Melissa not wanting to pull away. She remembered where she was and remained in control over herself before pulling away with bright cheeks. She looked up at you with a shocked gaze but quickly morphed it into a more natural reaction.
Your lips burned from the feeling hers left behind as you looked over her expression before slowly turning your eyes to the crowd around you. Not too many people had really noticed, but when your eyes met Joe’s, you knew he did. He seemed more sullen, like he knew he had missed his chance with the fiery italian you were dancing with. It made you feel accomplished, like you had achieved a perfect score on your performance this evening.
This caused you to feel sad when you realized in twenty-four hours the redhead would no longer be yours.
“Was that okay?” You whispered in her ear and she nodded quickly.
“Really sealed the deal there, doll.” she laughed and you smiled.
Soon the song was ending and your dancing stopped. It was growing late but you weren't sure you wanted the night to end.
“I guess we should start to say goodbyes. Don’t want to be up too late with the drive back tomorrow.” She spoke softly and you nodded.
“Yeah, good point. Lead the way.” You said and she smiled, grabbing your hand to guide you through the crowd to say farewells.
You approached the newlyweds last, Melissa saying final congratulations with an honest glee. The way she smiled at them, her eyes genuine and loving, held a completely different sentiment than during the ceremony. You couldn't help but wonder what had changed.
Once you made it to the car, the air crisp with a low breeze, you let out a sigh to fill the sudden silence.
“Wow, you have a very large family.” you said casually, as if the last two hours of the evening didn't happen.
“And that’s just the ones that could make it.” She added and you laughed.
“It must be nice though. Family gatherings are never boring, I'm sure.” You added and she nodded. Melissa knew you had a rather small family and this only made her feel more secure in her choice to have you here.
“Yeah they can get intense.” She said softly and you nodded, looking out the window at the dark roads and glowing buildings.
The car ride back was far more silent than the ones earlier in the day, an awkward tension falling over you. It caused your shoulders to slump and your thoughts to run. You had convinced yourself it was a reaction to your bold decision while dancing. Even though Melissa assured you in the moment, maybe she had realized it was wrong, or too far.
As you got ready for bed, the two of you made small comments about the weekend, exchanging a few jokes and light laughs, but ultimately the conversations died and you were both relaxing in different parts of the suite, winding down for a little while with the TV on as background noise.
You periodically peered over your book, eyes admiring the woman on the couch, her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she scrolled on her phone. Every now and then her expression would twitch and change and her thumbs would move. You wondered who she was texting, or if she was just scrolling on her socials and you were once again overthinking it.
After an hour or so, and the rest of the mini bottles in the fridge, you both noticed the time and let out sighs in unison.
“Ready for bed?” she asked and you hesitated but nodded.
“I’m sad the weekend’s over already. I’m glad we don't have to work tomorrow though, so we could stay for the reception.” You said casually as you set your book down and slid under the covers.
“Me too, it would have sucked to have to drive back on a Sunday.” She added, pulling back her covers and taking off her reading glasses.
Your hand reached for the remote, flicking through the channels to find something slightly entertaining but not too distracting to lull you to sleep. You could feel the warmth radiating off the woman and it made your stomach twist. Still you remained nonchalant and just watched the dim television with half lidded eyes.
Suddenly her low voice cut through the silence.
“Hey hon?” She said and you hummed.
“Yeah?” Both of you remained facing forward as she continued.
“I remembered my question.” She said and you smirked, instantly remembering her unfinished inquiry from the night before.
“Really? What was it?” you questioned and she let out a shaky breath.
“It was…a joke, I was going to ask if you think all the pretending would bring up any, real feelings.” She hesitated and you felt your chest freeze, surely she knew about your ‘ulterior motives’ now.
“Oh..” was all you let out, clearly more hurt than you intended. Before you could come up with a catty remark you felt her turn on her side to face you, and you paused a moment.
“The thing is, I think I already know the answer.” She said and you turned on your side as well, finally meeting her gaze in the dim room. Your faces were only inches from one another and you found yourself holding your breath.
“You do?” You questioned. Worry and fear carried through in your tone, your eyes darting between hers as she nodded.
“When you kissed me, I could tell.” She said vaguely and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment.
“Melissa, I am so sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I totally was even thinking and-” before you could continue she was moving the short distance forward, her hand cupping your cheek as her lips met yours.
This time, Melissa knew there was no one here to see and she kissed you with an intense passion. Her lips enveloping yours and moving in sync with them as you allowed her to continue. Her thumb stroked your cheek before she pushed your hair away and scooted closer.
When she finally pulled away, your lips were pink and your breaths were deep.
“I could tell I really liked you. This whole situation has made me realize how much I care about you, and want to know you.” She spoke softly and you smiled.
“You don’t know how long I've wished to hear that.” You laughed and she raised a brow in surprise.
“Really?” she said in denial and you nodded.
“Can’t believe I have been so oblivious.” She added and your hand came to her waist.
“I haven't exactly given you any hints.” You claimed and she smiled.
“I don’t know what we are going to do about any of it, but I know I want you here.” she said with a slight seduction and you nodded.
“I don’t know either, but you are in charge and I will be happy with anything you give me.” You said softly, trying your best to sound sexy and romantic, and not just plain desperate.
Before another word left her lips, she was pressing them to yours with an intense need. You felt shocks travel through your skin and she pulled you closer to her, your legs touching beneath the covers. Her lips were soft and fit perfectly with yours, moving erotically but sensually.
The desperation was suddenly clear as you clung to one another tightly and she pulled your hips into hers, your chests pressing together as you made out in a pornographic passion.
You moaned into her mouth when you felt her knee rest between your legs and her hands pushed your hips down onto it, guiding you to grind your clothed center on her thigh. You were taken aback by her sudden discovery of feelings followed by the urgency to make out. However, you saw no sense in stopping or complaining in that manner.
She pulled away for a moment with heavy breaths.
“Is this okay?” She asked and you nodded before her question had finished.
“Yes, please don’t stop.” You smirked and she gripped your waist tighter as her lips found yours.
She pulled you impossibly closer and soon her hand was trailing up under your shirt to cup your bare breast, an erotic moan leaving your lips into hers as she pinched your nipple. Her tongue entered your mouth as it parted and the muscle danced with yours as you kissed slowly and deep.
You rolled your hips against her, the friction of your center on her thigh was causing a coil to tighten in you and you knew she was going to feel you through the fabric soon. Her fingers trailed down your stomach and toyed with the waistband of your satin shorts and you felt your skin fill with chills beneath her touch.
“Can I touch you baby?” she asked into your lips, her voice breathy and you felt the wetness between your thighs grow instantly.
“Yes, please.” You begged and she smiled wickedly at the need in your voice.
Her manicured fingers slid past the fabric and she raised a brow at the lack of underwear.
“Hoping for this?” She poked and your brows furrowed as you felt her grow closer to your throbbing cunt.
“Always be prepared.” you replied and she giggled before bringing your lips to hers.
Her hand continued and you squirmed beneath her touch, feeling as she finally met your heat. She cupped your core, fingers sliding through your folds with ease. She hummed into your kiss and you held her closer to you, your breasts rubbing against one another as you moved your hips slowly.
She moved her fingers back and forth before rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hands roamed her body, tangling in her hair then gripping onto her large breasts. You shuttered under her touch, the way her fingers eased the burn building in your center.
She rolled to hover over you and you moaned into her again, this time it vibrated through your whole body and she smirked. She pulled away to watch your face with pleasure, her eyes looking between yours as she inserted a finger.
You threw your head back with you back arching up into her as she smiled, sucking her teeth proudly as you adjusted to the singular digit. It wasn't long before she could add another with how wet she had already made you. When she did she kept her gaze on yours, admiring how your face contorted from her motions.
“Fuck Melissa.” You moaned and she relished in the sounds. It was clear to the woman that no matter what happened after tonight, she needed to hear you like this for the rest of her days.
She began to move her fingers in and out of you and you grinded into her hand, your clit rubbing against the pads of her palm as her fingers buried into you deeper. Her lips returned to yours for a moment then she began to kiss your neck, leaving soft and faint bruises in some places.
You noticed her arm muscles flexing as she thrusted and this only made your insides tighten more. The sounds of you could be heard between the both of you and you swore all the sounds you both let out sounded more and more like a porno film, only more raw.
Suddenly her thumb found your clit, and with her middle and ring finger deep inside you, it caused a perfect blend of pleasure to help build up your orgasm. You moved into her more, her lips finding yours once again as she kissed you roughly.
Melissa was letting out moans of her own now, revelling in the way you were soaking all for her. Your leg hooked up on her waist to give her a sharper angle. Her skilled fingers thrusted higher and you felt your orgasm approaching.
“I’m close already, please slow down.” You muttered into her and she shook her head, increasing her speed.
“I want you to feel good, don't worry about time. Cum for me now.” She coaxed and you nodded, feeling her fingers massage and stroke inside of you, rubbing the sensitive spongey spot that always sent you over the edge.
Your hips rocked into her harder, pressing her fingers in deeply, rhythmically. You moaned into her and your breathing grew shallow as you approached your high. Fingers gripped her hair tightly as you felt her fingers thrust harder and faster. Moans escaped between kisses and your brows furrowed.
“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” you stammered and she smiled, thrusting faster as you reached your peak. Your body convulsed and you tightened around her wet fingers. She allowed you to ride out your high before removing the digits.
“Good girl.” she chimed and you blushed. Luckily the reddened cheeks were hidden under the glow and flush of sex.
“Christ Melissa, that was amazing.” You said before kissing her once more, your bodies pressed closely as her hands found your hair again.
“I want to make you feel good everyday.” she said as she kissed down your neck and you laughed.
“Let me make you feel good.” You said, moving your hands to her hips but she stopped you.
“Seeing you cum on my fingers is all I need for now. We should get some sleep.” She quipped and you stirred in frustration before nodding.
“How can I just sleep with you here beside me?” you inquired and she tilted her head at you.
“I think you can handle yourself.” She winked and your chest fluttered as you both shifted into a comfortable cuddling position.
“What are we going to tell everyone?” You asked and she placed a kiss on your head, before humming as she thought.
“I guess we don’t have to say anything right away, we can cross that bridge when it comes.” She said wisely and you nodded, tilting your head to press a loving kiss to her lips.
“At least my family knows already.” She joked and you laughed.
The rest of the night was spent cuddling and exchanging random questions to learn everything about one another. Cuddling and chatting about life until you both drifted off to sleep and dreamt of each other.
Hello, would you write for Natasha being an absolute bottom? Kinda like Come on Baby(Regina). Dont be shy to put all your interested kinks. Also could r be Gip please.
You Won't Survive
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Smut - gripping
Natasha Romanoff does not get cornered.
She’s survived gods, monsters, men who thought they owned the world—and yet here she is, back pressed lightly to the kitchen counter in the Avengers Tower, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes sharp but wavering. And the reason?
You.
“You’re hovering,” she says coolly, but there’s no bite behind it. Not really.
You lean in anyway, unbothered. Smiling like you already won. “I’m persuading.”
Her eyebrow twitches. That’s it. The tell. The microscopic crack in the armor.
“Persuasion usually involves facts,” Natasha replies.
“Oh, I’ve got facts.” You tick them off on your fingers, stepping closer with every word. “Fact one: you haven’t walked away yet. Fact two: you keep looking at my mouth like you’re deciding something. Fact three—”
“I am not—”
“Nat,” you cut in, soft but heated, eyes locked on hers, “you’re a world-class assassin and you’re scared of one date?”
Silence.
God, she hates that you see her.
Her shoulders loosen just a fraction, like she’s exhaling without meaning to. “I don’t date,” she says. “I don’t do… whatever this is.”
You tilt your head. “You mean feeling wanted? Because you’re doing a terrible job avoiding that.”
That gets her.
Her lips part like she’s about to argue, but nothing comes out. Instead, her gaze drops. Just for a second. And when it comes back up, it’s darker. Warmer. Less certain.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she murmurs.
You step into her space fully now—still not touching, but close enough that she can feel you there, like gravity. “I’m asking you to let me take you to dinner. Then maybe, afterward, you can be my dinner.”
Her mouth twitches. Almost lets out a whimper. Almost.
“And if I say no?” she asks quietly.
You shrug, easy, confident. “Then I’ll survive. But you won’t. You'll keep thinking about how you let someone stand this close and didn’t push them away.”
Natasha swallows.
For someone who controls rooms with a glance, she looks dangerously undone right now. Trapped not by you—but by how much she wants to say yes.
“You’re relentless,” she says.
You grin. “I promise, you'll like it, red.”
“I’m not interested,” she tells you, arms folded, expression locked down like a vault. “Drop it.”
You hold her gaze for half a second longer than necessary, searching for the crack that is there reminder or not. Then you smile—easy, unbothered, almost sweet.
“Suit yourself.”
And you walk away.
Natasha tells herself that’s that.
She is wrong.
--
The next day, the Avengers common area is loud—Tony running his mouth, Steve pretending not to judge, Bruce half-laughing into his coffee. Natasha is at the counter, focused, safe, invisible in plain sight.
Until you slide in.
Not next to her. Never next to her.
Across. Leaning back. Casual.
“So,” you say, loud enough for everyone, eyes only on her, “does anyone here know if Romanoff likes her coffee black, or is she secretly a cream-and-sugar person?”
Tony snorts. “Ooo, personal.”
Natasha doesn’t look at you. “Drink your coffee,” she says coolly.
You hum. “Didn’t answer the question.”
Steve glances between you. “Do you two—”
“No,” Natasha says immediately.
You grin. “Not yet.”
Her jaw tightens. She finally looks at you, and there it is—that look. The don’t you dare look. You raise your brows like: what?
Later—hallway. Empty. Or so she thinks.
She turns a corner and nearly collides with you. You don’t touch her. You just… stop her momentum by existing.
She exhales sharply. “You said ‘suit yourself.’”
“I did.” You lean back against the wall, blocking nothing, giving her space she absolutely does not need. “And I am.”
Her eyes flick to your mouth. Damn it.
“You’re being inappropriate,” she says.
“Inappropriate would be whispering,” you reply lightly. Then you soften, just a bit. “This is just flirting.”
“This is cornering.”
You tilt your head. “If I were cornering you, red, you’d know.”
Silence stretches. Charged. Heated. Not sexual—worse. Intent.
She steps closer despite herself. “Why are you doing this?”
Your voice drops, not soft—honest. “Because you said no like you wanted me to stop wanting you. And that’s not how this works.”
Her breath stutters. Just once.
Another day. Another chance encounter. Training room this time. You toss her a towel like it’s nothing.
“Careful,” you say. “If you keep glaring at me like that, people are gonna get ideas.”
She wipes her hands slowly. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Mm. A little.” You meet her eyes, fearless. “But mostly I’m enjoying you pretending this doesn’t get to you.”
She steps in close—too close—and lowers her voice. “One day you’re going to push too far.”
You don’t back up. You just smile, warm and dangerous.
“And on that same day,” you say, “you'll beg me to keep going.”
Natasha huffs and stands there—cornered again—not by your body, but by the fact that she hasn’t told you to leave.
--
The training room smells like rubber mats and sweat and focus.
Natasha’s alone—of course she is—moving through drills with ruthless precision. Punch. Pivot. Kick. Reset. She doesn’t hear you come in, not until the rhythm stutters.
She straightens slowly, towel over her shoulder, eyes already sharp. “If this is another—”
You don’t smile. You don’t tease. You don’t move closer.
You just say it.
“One dinner, Red.”
That’s it.
The room goes quiet in a way that means something.
Natasha blinks. Once. Like she’s recalibrating. “I said no.”
“I know.” Your voice is calm, steady, not chasing her anymore. “This isn’t chasing. This is an offer.”
She studies you now, really looks—like she’s trying to find the angle, the trick, the pressure point. There isn’t one. You’re standing easy, hands loose at your sides, already halfway prepared to walk out.
“And if I say no again?” she asks.
You shrug. “Then tomorrow it’ll still just be an offer.”
That does it.
Her shoulders drop the tiniest bit. The fight leaks out of her stance like air from a blade cut. She turns away, wipes her hands, buys herself time she doesn’t need.
“You don’t negotiate like anyone I know,” she says quietly.
You tilt your head. “That a complaint?”
She turns back. Her eyes are warm now. Dangerous. Soft in a way she never lets people see.
“…No,” she admits.
A beat.
“One dinner,” she says at last, voice low. “Public place.”
You grin—slow, satisfied, but gentle. “Of course.”
She exhales, something like a laugh trapped in her chest. “You’re insufferable.”
You take a step back toward the door, already letting her breathe again.
“Yeah,” you say. “But you said yes.”
--
Dinner is supposed to be neutral ground.
That’s what Natasha tells herself as she sits across from you in a low-lit restaurant she definitely scoped three exits for. Candle between you. Wine she hasn’t touched. Posture perfect. Guard up.
You, on the other hand, look devastatingly relaxed.
“You clean up well, Red,” you say, eyes dragging over her just long enough to be rude.
She lifts her glass, buys herself a second. “So do you.”
That’s it. That’s all she gives you. And still—her ears are already pink.
You lean forward, forearms on the table, voice dropping just a touch. “I like this version of you.”
Her brow furrows. “This version?”
“The one who showed up,” you say simply. “Didn’t run.”
She opens her mouth to snap back, then stops. Closes it. Looks away.
Strike one.
Dinner comes. Conversation flows easier than she planned. You listen—actually listen—chin propped on your hand, eyes never leaving her face. When she talks with her hands, you track the movement like it’s choreography.
At some point, your knee brushes hers under the table.
Accidental. Totally deniable.
She freezes.
You don’t move it away.
Her breath hitches—barely—but you feel it more than see it. She shifts, like she’s deciding whether to retreat or press back.
She presses back.
You smile like you won the lottery.
“Comfortable?” you murmur.
She glares at you over her fork. “Behave.”
You do not behave.
When she makes a dry comment, you laugh and reach out—just fingertips—to brush a crumb from the corner of her mouth. It’s brief. Intimate. Public enough to be insane.
Natasha stills completely.
“You had something—” you say innocently.
Her eyes darken. “You could’ve told me.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to touch you,” you reply, voice warm, unashamed.
She swallows. Hard.
“God,” she mutters, “you’re—”
“Persistent?” you offer.
Her lips part. Close. “Distracting.”
Strike two.
Later, you walk her out. City noise hums around you, but the moment feels sealed off. She stops short of the car, turns to face you.
“This was one dinner,” she reminds you, trying—failing—to sound firm.
You step closer. Not crowding. Never crowding. Just close enough that your hand brushes her wrist.
“I know,” you say softly. “I’m not asking for more.”
Your thumb circles once. Slow. Deliberate.
Her pulse jumps under your touch.
“But?” she asks, voice thinner now.
You tilt your head, eyes flicking to her lips and back. “But you’re allowed to want it.”
She exhales shakily, like the idea alone knocks the air out of her.
“I don’t—” she starts, then stops. Her composure fractures, just for a second. “You make this difficult.”
You grin, affectionate and lethal. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Then you kiss her.
Not gentle. Not testing.
It’s deep and heated and deliberate, like you’ve been building toward this moment for days and finally decided you were done being polite about it. Her surprise lasts half a second before she melts into it, hands fisting in your jacket like she needs something to hold onto.
She makes a quiet sound—frustrated, wrecked—and you feel it straight through you.
Your other hand slides up her back, pulls her closer. No hesitation. No mercy. She presses back without thinking, body betraying her composure completely.
When you break the kiss just enough to breathe, your forehead rests against hers.
“Still think this was a bad idea?” you whisper.
Her eyes flutter open. Glassy. Flustered in a way she never is.
“You—” she exhales, fingers tightening at your sides, “you don’t play fair.”
You grin against her jaw, brushing another kiss there—slower now, possessive. “You came anyway.”
She laughs softly, breathless, then groans when your hand slides down to her hip, squeezing just enough to make your point.
“God,” she mutters, clearly overwhelmed, “I said one dinner.”
You pull back just enough to look at her—really look at her—pressed against your car, lips swollen, eyes lit up like you just cracked something open she keeps locked down.
“And you survived,” you say gently. “Barely.”
She shakes her head, trying and failing to regain control.
You lean in again, stopping just short of her mouth.
And you let her close the distance and kiss you back.
--
The back of your car is too small and somehow still not close enough.
Natasha is half-sprawled against the seat, jacket discarded, hair a mess, eyes blown wide like she can’t believe she let it get this far—and can’t believe she wants more. Her hands are everywhere, gripping at you like you’re the only solid thing left in the world.
“Jesus,” she breathes, forehead dropping to your shoulder, voice wrecked. “You— you’re not fair.”
You smile against her jaw, low and dangerous. “You already said that.”
She lets out a sound that’s more frustration than words when you pull her back in, mouths crashing together again, all heat and hunger and zero patience left. Every touch lands heavier now—intentional. Claiming. She reacts to everything, like her body decided it’s done pretending.
Your hand settles at her waist, steady, grounding—and she melts into it immediately, like she’s been waiting for permission to fall apart. But you don't stop there. Your fingers trail lower, slipping under the hem of her dress, finding the heat between her thighs. She's already soaked through her panties, her pussy slick and swollen, begging for contact without her saying a word.
You push the fabric aside and slide two fingers inside her, slow at first, feeling her walls clench around you like she's trying to pull you deeper. Natasha gasps into your mouth, her hips bucking up instinctively, chasing the intrusion. Her breath hitches, ragged and desperate, as you curl your fingers just right, stroking that spot inside her that makes her entire body jolt.
“Oh my god,” she murmurs, breath shaking, knuckles white where she’s clutching you. “Don’t stop. Please—”
That word hits harder than anything else tonight. You pump your fingers faster, your thumb circling her clit in firm, relentless circles. She's dripping now, her arousal coating your hand, the wet sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out filling the cramped space. Natasha's thighs tremble, squeezing around your wrist as she rides your hand, her head falling back against the seat with a soft thud.
Her first orgasm crashes over her without warning—her pussy fluttering wildly around your fingers, gushing hot and slick as she cries out, a broken moan that echoes off the car windows. Her nails dig into your shoulders, her body arching off the seat, every muscle taut and quivering. You don't let up, though; you keep fucking her through it, drawing out the waves until she's whimpering, oversensitive and gasping.
But she's not done. Not even close. You add a third finger, stretching her wider, and she sobs your name, her hips grinding down harder, like she can't get enough. The second climax builds fast, her clit throbbing under your thumb as you rub it faster, your fingers plunging deep and twisting. Sweat beads on her skin, her shirt clinging to her heaving chest, nipples hard and visible through the fabric.
“Fuck—yes, right there,” she pants, her voice raw, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure rips through her again. This time, she squirts, her release soaking your hand and pooling in the seat beneath her, her whole body convulsing in your grip. She's melting completely now, boneless and shuddering, but you keep going, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath before picking up the pace once more.
Her third orgasm hits like a storm, her pussy clamping down so tight it almost pushes your fingers out, but you're determined to keep them in, fucking her through the spasms. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, mixing with the flush on her cheeks, and she buries her face in your neck, biting down on your skin to muffle her screams. Every pulse of her release feels like a surrender, her body yielding to you completely, emotionally and physically wrecked.
You stay close. You keep her there. Let her ride the feeling, let it crest and break and pull her under again, until she’s gasping your name like it’s the only thing anchoring her. Your free hand strokes her back, holding her steady as she trembles in your arms, aftershocks rippling through her with every gentle thrust of your fingers.
When she finally slumps against you, breathless and stunned, she laughs softly—disbelieving.
“…I hate you,” she says weakly.
You brush your thumb along her cheek, gentle now, intimate in a way that feels almost worse, while your other hand eases out of her, slick with her cum. You bring your fingers to your lips, tasting her on your tongue—salty and sweet—before wiping them on your jeans.
“No,” you murmur. “You really don’t.”
She doesn’t argue. She just leans into you like she already knows this was inevitable. Her hand drifts down, fumbling with your belt, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of exhaustion and fresh hunger. “Your turn,” she whispers, voice hoarse but determined, as she frees your cock from your pants. It's rock-hard, throbbing in her grip, pre-cum beading at the tip.
She strokes you slowly at first, her touch tentative from the afterglow, but it builds quickly—her fist tightening, twisting just under your tip the way that makes your breath catch. The car feels even smaller now, the air thick with the scent of sex, her body pressed flush against yours. You groan, thrusting into her hand, watching her face as she works you over, that vulnerable spark in her eyes turning wicked.
But she wants more. She shifts, straddling your lap despite the awkward space, her soaked pussy hovering over your length. “Need you inside me,” she breathes, sinking down inch by inch, her walls still fluttering from her orgasms, gripping you like a vice. The stretch makes her whimper, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes you fully, bottoming out with a shuddering gasp.
“Oh fuck,” Natasha moans, her voice breaking as she settles there, your cock buried deep inside her. She's trembling already, her inner muscles clenching involuntarily around your thickness, like her body's overwhelmed by the fullness. She tries to move, to lift her hips and ride you, but she only manages a shallow rock before she freezes, a dazed look crossing her face. “I... I can't,” she pants, her hands pressing flat against your chest, nails digging in. “You're too much. Feels so good, I—please, just... fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me. Please, I need it.”
Her plea sends a jolt through you, and you grip her hips tighter, holding her in place as you buck up sharply, slamming into her from below. She cries out, her head tipping back, pussy squeezing you in response. “Yes! Like that—harder,” she begs, her words slurring with the haze of pleasure, completely lost to the sensation of you stretching and filling her. You set a punishing rhythm, driving your cock up into her slick heat over and over, the angle hitting deep, brushing that sensitive spot inside her with every thrust.
Natasha's breath comes in ragged bursts, her breasts heaving as she clings to you, unable to do more than grind down weakly to meet your movements. “God, you feel so good,” she gasps, her voice raw and needy. “Don't stop—I'm so close. Keep going, please...” The wet sounds of your cock pounding into her echo in the confined space, her arousal dripping down your shaft, soaking your balls. She's cock-drunk now, eyes glassy, lips parted as she murmurs incoherently, every upward snap of your hips drawing a fresh whine from her throat.
You feel her tightening first, her walls fluttering wildly around you as her climax builds. “So close—fuck, you're gonna make me cum again,” she sobs, leaning forward to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, tongues tangling desperately. You thrust harder, faster, one hand sliding up to pinch her nipple through her shirt, rolling it between your fingers. She shatters with a keening moan, her pussy convulsing around your cock, gushing hot and tight as waves of release crash through her. “Yes—oh god, yes!”
The vice-like grip of her orgasm pulls you under too. You growl against her neck, hips snapping up one last time, burying yourself to the hilt as you cum, thick ropes of your load flooding her pretty pussy, pulsing hot inside her. Natasha trembles violently, riding out the aftershocks with whimpers, her body milking every drop from you.
As the high fades, she collapses against your chest, still impaled on your softening cock, neither of you moving to separate. “Stay,” she murmurs breathlessly, her arms wrapping around your shoulders, face nuzzling into your collarbone. “Please... don't pull out yet. I want to feel you."
You nod, your hands stroking soothing circles on her back, keeping her close in the humid warmth of the car. The windows are completely fogged now, sealing you in your own little world. “I'm not going anywhere,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You okay?”
She lets out a soft, shaky laugh, lifting her head to meet your eyes, her cheeks still flushed. “Okay? That was... a lot. I've never felt anything like that.” Her fingers trace idle patterns on your neck, a tender contrast to the raw passion from moments ago.
“Yeah?” you smirk, your voice is gruff. “Your pussy feels so good, red. The way you begged... fucking hell.”
She blushes, biting her lip, but doesn't look away. “Shut up.” She shifts slightly, a small gasp escaping as your cock twitches inside her, still half-hard.
--
Morning comes in rude.
Sunlight slices through the car window, landing directly on Natasha Romanoff’s face like a personal attack. She groans, shifts—and immediately freezes.
Because something is very wrong.
The backseat is cramped. Her leg is draped over yours at an angle that defies physics. Your arm is still around her waist, lazy and heavy with sleep. She blinks once. Twice.
Then it all hits her at the same time.
“Oh my god.”
Her voice is hoarse, panicked, and barely above a whisper.
You hum, half-asleep, entirely too comfortable. “Mornin’, Red.”
She tries to move. Realizes she can’t. Realizes why. Goes completely still again.
“This—” she swallows, cheeks flushing hard, “this is not acceptable.”
You crack one eye open, grin already there like you planned this. “You say that like you didn’t fall asleep first.”
“I did not fall asleep,” she hisses. “I passed out.”
“On me,” you add helpfully.
She drops her face into her hands. “We’re still… like this.”
“Yeah,” you say, stretching just enough to make the situation worse for her sanity. “Turns out cars aren’t built for dignity.”
She peeks at you through her fingers. You look unfairly pleased. Relaxed. Smug.
“Don’t,” she warns.
You absolutely do.
“Well,” you murmur, voice warm and infuriatingly amused, “on the bright side—this might be the longest you’ve ever stayed.”
Her glare could cut glass. Unfortunately, it wobbles halfway through.
“This never happened,” she says.
You grin wider. “Nat, you drooled.”
Her eyes widen. “I did not.”
“Right here,” you say, tapping your shoulder. “Very vulnerable. Kinda cute.”
She groans again, but this time there’s a laugh tangled in it—quiet, betrayed, real.
“…We need to move,” she says, trying for authority and landing somewhere near flustered.
“In a sec,” you reply, entirely unhelpful. “I’m enjoying the view.”
She exhales, long and slow, then finally looks at you properly—hair a mess, lips soft, guard completely down in the early light.
“You’re unbearable,” she says.
You shrug. “And yet.”
She shakes her head, but she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t rush. Just rests her forehead against yours for one quiet moment before reality kicks back in.
“…Next time,” she mutters, “we’re getting a hotel.”
Summary: Natasha loved living with you, but some of your habits drove her fucking crazy... until Wanda mentions a solution that just might work for you both.
Words: 7161
Warnings: g!p ADHD!Reader, implied butch!reader, lawyer!Natasha (it's mentioned like, twice maybe?), use of (Y/N) twice (I think), smut, handjob (reader receiving), fingering (Natasha receiving), oral (both receiving), p in v sex, teeeeechnically manipulation but you both benefit from it, mentions briefly of hetero sex... uh, I dunno, man. Just use your own discretion.
A/N: It's an AU, obviously. Uh, and before anyone sends a message like, "Ackshually" when it comes to ADHD--I have it. And a lot of reader's issues stem from experience so...
-X-
Tucked in the back corner of the bar, sprawled out across the booth, Wanda’s head was tossed back in laughter as her friends stared at her in surprise. Her cheeks were flushed from the tequila, eyes twinkling in the low light as she smirked.
“You two keep staring at me like I just confessed to grand larceny.” She giggled, shrugging with faux-innocence. “It started as a total accident. Victor fixed the leaky faucet in the bathroom. Finally, after I’d been asking for, what, three months? I was so relieved I practically dragged him into the bedroom and blew him until he forgot his own name.”
Maria snorted into her glass, shaking her head. “Real romantic.”
“It was,” Wanda insisted, mock-indignant. “But then the next weekend he cleaned out the gutters without me saying a word. So I thanked him properly—let him eat me out on the kitchen counter until my legs stopped working.” She paused, savoring their reactions. “Two accidents in a row made me wonder. So the third time he took my car for an oil change and full wash? I rode him in the garage before he’d even put the keys down.”
Natasha’s brow arched, her fingers stilling around her glass. She didn’t laugh; she simply studied Wanda. “And he hasn’t caught on?”
“Not once.” Wanda’s voice dropped, the satisfaction clear as day on her face. “He just thinks he’s suddenly the world’s most attentive husband and the sex is better than it’s been since our honeymoon. Win-win.”
Natasha leaned in closer, cheeks a little warm from the vodka but eyes focused. “Walk me through the escalation. How do you decide what equals what reward?”
Tilting her head, Wanda set her margarita aside and leaned on her arms, giving Natasha her full attention. “You’re not just asking for gossip reasons, are you?” she teased, before it shifted into something almost conspiratorial. “You’re wanting to take notes.”
Natasha didn’t deny it, smirking as she waited.
Wanda exhaled a quiet laugh. “Fine. Here’s how I broke it down once I realized it worked.” She ticked off points on her fingers, deliberately. “Small stuff—trash out, dishes loaded and actually run, counters wiped—those stack. Three of them in a week? Handjob—it’s quick, simple, and most of the time, I get fingered while I do it, so we both walk away loose and happy.”
Maria whistled, mildly impressed by their friend’s cunning, but Wanda’s gaze never left Natasha.
“Medium jobs—vacuuming the whole house, doing laundry, changing the sheets, stuff like that? Things that genuinely shave real hours off my weekends? He does two of them without me having to ask or without me having to explain what needs done? Oral. Either I blow him until he can’t feel his toes or he goes down until I can’t feel mine.”
Natasha’s fingers drummed along her glass as she took it all in.
“Now, the big stuff? Stuff that’s been genuinely dragging me down and grinding my gears? If he accomplishes those tasks, we have full, no-holds-barred, fuck-until-we-forget-our-names sex because once that weight is gone—once I don’t have that stress or irritation weighing me down? I want to climb him like a tree. Because suddenly I have the energy to want him. That’s the part he didn’t realize sometimes. Those little things added up and I didn’t want him as much because I was spending all of my time considering the mess around us.”
Wanda sat back, taking a healthy gulp of her drink before looking at Natasha seriously.
“It’s not some rigid contract and I don’t just… force it. Like, I want to because I’m not ready to strangle him anymore. I don’t have to nag, I don’t have to do it myself, and we’re having the kind of sex we had in our twenties. It’s fantastic.”
Natasha knew all about that frustration.
She loved you—god only knows how much she loved you—but you were notorious for your half-finished projects around the loft. A sink full of mugs you swore you’d handle “in a minute”, the boxes from where you’d moved in six months ago still scattered around the hallway and closet, laundry that always would be started until you forgot about it and it’d sit in the washer for three days…
She loved you—but the clutter was starting to feel like a third presence in your bed.
It helped that Wanda’s system wasn’t cruel; that’s the part that hooked her. It wasn’t punishment or nagging or begging or that cold score-keeping Natasha hated in other couples. It was motivation, turning your genuine desire to help into something that stuck. Something that rewarded the effort you were already putting in with something she loved giving you: herself. Her time, her pleasure, her love…
The truth was—she fucking wanted you. Constantly. But your sex life had started falling off a bit because she was frustrated. If this brought that back and solved ninety percent of the issues ailing your otherwise incredible relationship?
“I know you’ve been struggling with the same hang-ups, Nat,” Wanda murmured sympathetically. “She tries, we all know she does, but the energy fizzles out when her brain goes a little… haywire. It’s not about turning her into some obedient robot or prostituting yourself for clean counters. It’s just… giving the effort a little extra gravity to help it stick. It’ll just make her feel like you can’t keep your hands off her when she makes your life easier, which… let’s be honest, you already struggle with on a good day.”
Winking, Wanda finished her drink before growing serious.
“If it doesn’t work or it makes you feel weird, you stop. No harm. But if it does work…” she trailed off for a moment, “then you get help you need around the apartment and she gets the version of you that isn’t quietly burning with frustration—and you both get your wild, ‘don’t call us this weekend, we’re not leaving the bed’ sex life back.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what we need. More opportunities for us to walk in on them getting it on in a bathroom…” Maria grinned cheekily.
“Or the car…” Wanda chimed in.
“Or the bushes at Tony’s. Remember New Years?”
“Or—“
“Okay! I get it,” Natasha laughed, lifting her drink in a quiet salute. “But… you’re right. Might just be worth it.”
-X-
The smell of eggs and fresh coffee dragged Natasha into consciousness the next morning, eyes blurry and head pounding from the aftermath of too many shots last night. She knew she shouldn’t have accepted Maria’s challenge—
And her hangover was quick to remind her she wasn’t twenty-five anymore.
Wandering down the hall into the kitchen, wearing one of your oversized tees and a pair of silk sleep shorts you always teased her about, she froze in the doorway at the sight. You, in a tank top and shorts, plating eggs and bacon. But what surprised her most?
The kitchen wasn’t a goddamn disaster zone.
Countertops? Wiped off and sparkling (okay, maybe not sparkling but let a woman dream). Sink? Empty, besides the pan you had just set in there after emptying the contents onto plates. The trash bag? Sitting beside the door, tied and ready to go out to the chute. Dishwasher? Already humming as it cleaned the dishes from last night and this morning.
You’d cooked and cleaned up after yourself without her having to ask—
She pinched her hip just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Crossing the space, she looped her arms around your waist from behind and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.
“Morning, chef,” she teased, voice husky and thick with sleep. Another soft kiss, this one grazing your earlobe as she stared at the breakfast on the counter. “You trying to spoil me before I’ve even had coffee?”
Her hands dropped to the waistband of your boxers, fingertips dipping just below to feel the soft skin beneath.
“I know you got in late last night, so I thought I’d make breakfast. I know how your ‘girls’ nights’ tend to go with those two,” you murmured, twisting in her arms until you could kiss her gently. “Morning, baby.”
She sighed happily into the kiss, letting it linger as her lips parted, tasting the too-sweet creamer from your coffee as she leaned against you. When you pulled back, she didn’t let you go far, palms sliding up over your ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin material of your shirt.
“Yeah, we might’ve… tied one on last night,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. “Victor had to come outside to help carry Wanda into the house.” She cringed, remembering how… graphic Wanda had been when she draped herself across the blond man, “whispering” in his ear what she wanted him to do to her once they were inside.
“Whispering” of course equaling out to: Wanda having no idea how loud she was actually being and the Uber driver learning way too much about the Sokovian’s sex life.
Natasha made sure to give him five stars as an apology, and a decent sized tip.
“This is a nice surprise though.” Her hand slid up to rest over your heart, thumb drawing lazy circles. “I know it’s my turn to take out the trash but would you mind taking it to the chute for me? My head is still objecting to light and the hall is so bright…”
Her eyes were soft, almost pleading, but she couldn’t help herself. You’d unknowingly already done two things—two!—without her needing to ask (because not only had you made breakfast—something you often didn’t do because you forgot eating was a necessity—but you’d also cleaned up) and that… that alone made her thrilled.
You glanced over at the bag and nodded. “Oh, yeah, I can do that. Uh, hold on.”
Disappearing deeper into the apartment, you grabbed the small bags from the bathroom and office before tying them off and snagging the bag beside the door. It was a short walk, ten steps down to the chute, but for Natasha—
It was perfect.
You’d taken all of the trash—all of it—and somehow, that was hotter than lingerie. Because now things were cleaner, even if only slightly. But it was a goddamn start.
“Done and done,” you announced, nudging the door closed with your foot when you returned.
Natasha’s mouth curved in a warm smile as she closed the gap of space between you, hands trailing over your chest up to your hair.
“Good girl,” she whispered, dragging you into a deep kiss that made your toes curl against the tile. You could never really think when her tongue was in your mouth and her body was pressed tight against yours.
“Wow,” you exhaled as she finally pulled back, a dazed grin on your face. “That was…”
She didn’t wait for you to finish, wrapping her fingers around your wrist as she dragged you over to the couch and shoved you down. Your eyes went wide, a quiet huff escaping as you landed, but the feeling of her moving to straddle your hips cut off any moment of protest.
Her hands skimmed over the hem of your shirt, drifting under the thin fabric as they ghosted over your stomach, your ribs—
Before one diverted downward, snaking into your shorts.
Her mouth claimed yours in a hungry, languid kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip as her fingers wrapped around your stiffening length. “You take such good care of me,” she whispered, releasing your lip with a quiet ‘pop’, “now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
A guttural, broken sound escaped your throat as her thumb swept over the crown of your cock and your hips jumped upward slightly.
“T-Tasha…”
“That’s it,” she cooed, leaning forward until you could feel her nipples, tight and pebbled, pressing against your own through the thin layers of your shirts. She kept her rhythm unhurried at first, long strokes from base to crown, watching every flicker across your face like she was cataloguing every twitch.
Every time her hand glided up your shaft, the world narrowed down to the feeling of her. Her touch, her warmth, her scent…
God, you were addicted.
One hand slid up her thigh, dipping under the leg of her shorts as your fingers found her slit, thumb brushing the swollen bundle of nerves you found there. “Nat…”
Her breath caught, a soft whine escaping her throat as your fingers parted her folds. She didn’t slow her hand; if anything, her pace grew steadily faster, her hips rolling instinctively into your touch.
“Fuck, just like that,” she murmured, grinding her clit against your thumb when she decided you were a little too distracted by her hand. “Just like that...”
You swallowed her moan as two fingers pressed into her entrance, the sounds of her cunt obscene as she rode your hand with abandon. Her tongue dipped past your teeth, hand stroking base to tip over and over until every fucking nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” you groaned between kisses, feeling the way her arousal soaked your hand with every thrust. Every curl of your fingers coaxing more from her.
“Because of you,” she gasped against your lips, voice cracking on the words. “Because you took care of me this morning.” Her cunt clenched hard around your fingers, fresh heat dripping down to your knuckles as she rode your hand shamelessly. “Keep going. Fuck, keep going…”
You bucked up into her grip, lips falling open as her hand stroked faster, her thumbnail teasing the head. Her shorts were so wet they clung to your hand as you fingered her, your cock throbbing almost painfully as the both of you neared your peak.
Minutes passed… or, you assumed it was minutes. It could’ve been seconds. All you knew was that your girlfriend was moaning desperately and your cock was aching so much you could feel it in your fucking teeth.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” she breathed, walls fluttered around your fingers.
Her hips jerked as you crooked your fingers, dragging the tips over that perfect spot inside her. Her breath fractured against your mouth, her hand clenching just right and—
“Fuck,” you groaned, spilling across her hand, head growing fuzzy as the pleasure washed over you in waves.
The sudden rush of your release in her hand and the way you kept working your fingers despite your own climax sent her teetering over the edge. She clamped down hard, riding out the ecstasy in shuddering waves. Her free hand gripped the nape of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to gravity, her nails pressing crescents in the skin beneath her fingers.
“…fuck,” she laughed breathlessly, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your parted lips. “Look at you… making me come before breakfast.”
You offered a goofy grin, melting boneless into the soft cushions, completely oblivious to the way Natasha’s mind was racing.
The way she was planning…
-X-
The last few days had been… better. Not perfect—not by any stretch of imagination—but you were better about remembering the little things which, honestly, was making her life a hundred times easier.
Progress was still progress.
Nudging open the loft door, Natasha’s heels dangled from one hand, briefcase in the other. The day had been a marathon of back-to-back depositions, a client who lied to her face twice, and traffic that turned a thirty minute commute into an hour. To say she was tired was a fucking understatement.
She paused for a second when she realized you weren’t in the living room but she could hear sounds of something odd in the bedroom. Wandering down the hall, she exhaled as she stepped into the room, expecting the usual sight of your boxes colonizing the floor with your half-folded clothes draped over them like flags she wanted to burn—
But what she found knocked the breath from her lungs.
You were kneeling in front of a box—the only box not broken down and stacked in the corner—and your clothes were hanging on the rack or sitting folded in the open dresser drawers she’d cleared out for you. The same drawers you hadn’t used before now.
She leaned against the doorframe, her earlier exhaustion bleeding into genuine surprise. “Well… someone’s been productive today,” she said, her voice soft but undeniably thrilled.
“The cafe was dead so Steve sent me home early,” you explained, shrugging as you glanced over your shoulder at her. “I got bored so I started working on putting stuff away. Figured I should maybe start acting like I actually live here.”
Grinning cheekily, you tugged out the last pair of underwear from the box and folded them before setting them in the dresser.
She knew you were joking, but the fact you’d finally taken the step without her having to ask meant more than you knew. She’d joked about it a few times—that you lived out of those boxes like you were expecting to get thrown out—and to know you finally bit the bullet (so to speak) and staked your claim.
She crossed the space in three slow strides, her palms settling on your waist from behind as her fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt.
“Acting like you live here?” she echoed playfully, kissing the nape of your neck. “I like the sound of that.”
Her digits wandered downward, lingering just above the top of your shorts, her chest plastered across your back. She was taking it all in—
And fuck, she liked what she saw.
“I’m proud of you, malyshka,” she whispered, “finish up, then come find me.”
Your brow arched, but the last thing you were going to do was argue when she was looking at you like that. By the time you had the box broken down and the remaining empty hangers hung up, you were practically panting. Hoping desperately that you’d walk out there and see—
Stepping around the frame, your mouth was nearly watering at the sight that greeted you. Natasha, bare and spread on the bed, her fingers lazily teasing her folds. She parted them slowly, just enough to show you how swollen and ready she was.
“Come here, detka,” she murmured softly, smiling faintly. “Come make me forget everything but that pretty mouth of yours.”
You dove—really, there was no other word for it—onto the mattress, scrambling up the comforter until your mouth was level with her cunt. Her digits tangled in your locks, guiding your tongue to her wet heat, back arching the instant your lips sealed over her clit.
“Fuck, just like that,” she whined, hips rolling as she ground against your face.
Every lap of your tongue sent sparks of pleasure up her spine and when you flattened it, licking from her entrance up to her clit, her breath hitched so hard that it sounded painful. Her free hand massaged her breast, tugging at her nipple sharply, while her grip on your hair tightened.
“Don’t st—” her words dissolved into a needy moan as your tongue plunged into her heat, flicking and curling teasingly before returning to the swollen bundle of nerves. Her body went taut, hardly breathing as a symphony of moans and whimpers escaped her throat. “R-right there, detka. Oh god…”
Your hand left her thigh, pressing low on her belly and pinning her to the bed as your tongue worked relentlessly. She bucked hard against the pressure, a raw cry ripping from her throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” her hand yanked your head hard, dragging you as close as humanly possible.
When her thighs clamped around your head, all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart and the obscene sounds of her cunt beneath your tongue. It was filthy and desperate and fuck, you loved eating her out…
She came with a keening whine, hips grinding helplessly against your face, chasing the spasms that bordered on overstimulation by the time they finally ebbed. She was simultaneously nudging your head away with one hand, while the other kept you buried.
It was confusing if you were being honest but you were content to lap up her juices, claiming every drop until she finally pushed you away.
“Jesus, you’re too good at that,” she panted, dragging you up until she could crush her mouth against yours.
“…I really like eating you out. It’s a top tier delicacy,” you mumbled against her lips, smiling faintly.
She snorted, cheeks flushing red as she shoved your head back. “God, you’re incorrigible.”
-X-
Natasha… was concerned.
You’d been doing so good for the last few weeks, but this was a test she wasn’t sure would go the way she’d hoped. A handjob here and there, occasional oral… and you were actually managing to keep up with tasks around the loft without needing a reminder.
Sure, you still had mind-blowing sex often, but the truth was: Wanda was right. When she wasn’t wanting to strangle you or burn the loft down because of all the clutter, she wanted to fuck you stupid. Constantly.
The kind of sex you’d had during the first year of your relationship when you were both awful at keeping your hands to yourselves.
She loved it; organization and orgasms.
But now her family was here and you were in charge of finishing dinner while she caught up with her mom and sister. Granted, Alexei was in the kitchen with you, but that almost might’ve been worse because the two of you together were trouble.
She was lingering in the doorway, watching you both with a critical eye (if she was waiting for a fire to erupt because of Alexei and a “vodka sauce I made in the motherlands”, she’d never admit it), before Yelena’s hand was wrapping around her wrist and dragging her into the living room.
“The kitchen is fine. Papa and your girlfriend are bonding over meat,” Yelena said, steering her over to the couch and shoving her down. She claimed the other side of Natasha while Melina lounged in your usual chair. “Alright, spill: what did you do?”
“Yes, what has changed? The apartment looks like adults live here, you look like you’ve slept more than four hours, and now (Y/N) is finishing dinner alone without being asked. Explain.” Melina arched a curious brow.
Natasha exhaled through her nose, buying a second by smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her jeans. “I started reinforcing positive behavior,” she said carefully. “When she finishes things that make my life easier, I make sure she knows how much I appreciate it. Very… personally.”
Melina’s head tilted, processing while Yelena’s eyes narrowed, then widened as horrified realization dawned on her.
“So… sex?” Yelena asked, bluntly, nose crinkling at the idea of Natasha having sex.
Natasha shot her a look. “Yelena,” she warned, but she was cut off Yelena’s laughter.
“Oh my god, you are bribing your girlfriend with orgasms.” Her amusement faltered as the words dawned on her, face scrunching in disgust. “Ew, please tell me your couch is still clean.”
“It was never clean,” Natasha muttered, smirking faintly when Yelena squealed in horror, practically throwing herself onto the other recliner, though her smile dimmed at the look in Melina’s eyes. “Mama… I’m not prostituting myself for clean countertops.”
Melina leaned forward, studying Natasha intently. “I only want to know that you are not forcing yourself to perform gratitude. You’ve been wound tight as a wire for months. If this… thanks is coming at the cost of your own comfort—”
“It isn’t,” Natasha cut in, meeting Melina’s gaze. She wasn’t defensive, just… hoping Melina would understand. “I… I want her constantly. I always have. The difference is that now when she finishes something that’s been bothering me, the want isn’t tangled up in resentment. There’s no mental block or voice in my head asking why she can… touch me but can’t put her damn socks in the hamper.”
Yelena’s playful squirming at the idea of Natasha having sex (gross!) faded into something more thoughtful as she studied her sister. It had been a while since Natasha had seemed so… relaxed. Calm.
“Good,” Melina finally replied, nodding once. “Then keep doing it.” She paused thoughtfully. “Maybe I should try something similar with your father.”
Yelena recoiled so hard she nearly tipped out of the recliner. “Mama, no. Hard no! I do not need that visual.”
Natasha groaned, burying her face in her hands. “God, please. Never again. We are not discussing your sex life with Papa. Ever.”
From the kitchen, Alexei bellowed—needlessly, because the fucking loft wasn’t that big, “Food is ready!”
Natasha and Yelena both scrambled up, grateful for the interruption, and Natasha nudged her sister as they walked into the kitchen.
“This is your fault.”
Yelena glanced at her father, then her mother, and cringed. “I have many regrets.”
-X-
The front door clicked shut behind Alexei’s final booming goodbye, leaving the loft suddenly quiet except for the low hum of the dishwasher finishing its cycle. Natasha slipped the deadbolt, leaned her back against the door for a beat, and let the silence settle. The apartment gleamed, counters wiped, leftovers neatly stacked in glass containers in the fridge, and not a single stray fork in the sink. You’d done it all, jumping up between courses to clear plates, wrapping foil over bowls, even sweeping the floor while she hugged her mother one last time.
“I am so tired I can’t feel my toes,” you groaned, sprawled out on the couch.
Natasha smirked as she walked over to you, taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table as she lifted your feet into her lap. Her palms slowly massaged from your ankles up to your calves. “My poor baby,” she cooed teasingly. “You were incredible tonight.”
Her hands slid up to your thighs, kneading the muscles with deliberate pressure.
“Every time I looked up, you were doing something else to make this night perfect,” she praised, the teasing softening into something genuinely appreciatively as she studied your face.
She set your feet down and stood, grabbing your hand as she tugged you up.
“Bed. Now.”
You blinked in surprise, but followed along like a diligent girlfriend. Usually when Natasha’s family left, she’d bathe for an hour to decompress, not… this.
(It genuinely didn’t click in your head that her lack of exhaustion came from you helping her take care of everything.)
Shoving you towards the bed, Natasha arched a brow. “Strip. I want you on your back.”
Laughing, you were quick to tug your shirt over your head and toss it aside, your jeans hurriedly joining it on the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”
Natasha’s eyes tracked every movement as you stripped, watching the way your stomach flexed, the soft weight of your breasts, the line of your hips as your boxers fell away. You could feel that green gaze sweeping over every inch as you flopped into the middle of the bed, cock already half-hard as you stared down the bed towards her.
When she was certain she had your attention—which wasn’t hard, honestly—she began to pluck the buttons of her blouse open, one by one, until it pooled around her bare feet. Black lace came loose with a single flick of her fingers and by the time she was standing naked at the end of the bed, a sight you’d never get tired of seeing, you were panting like you’d run a damn mile.
“Christ, Nat,” you breathed, cock flushed and twitching at the view.
She crawled up the mattress, palms gliding over your knees, spreading you wider as she settled between them. “You cleaned this morning without me asking. Helped prep dinner for five, finished it solo while I caught up with my mom and sister… and didn’t complain once.”
She leaned down, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing just enough to make the muscles beneath her mouth jump. Her hand wrapped lazily around your length, stroking slow and firm as she coaxed you fully hard with practiced ease.
“That’s not a small thing, detka. That’s huge.”
Her tongue traced a wet line from the base to the tip of you, swirling around the head before she took you into her mouth, throat relaxing as she swallowed you down until her nose pressing against your skin. She held you there, humming softly, before pulling back with a deliberate suction that left you slick and aching.
She sat up, shifting high enough to straddle your hips. Her palms braced against your chest, thumbs teasing your nipples as she rocked forward, her slick folds dragging along your cock.
“Just lay back and enjoy,” she whispered, guiding the head of you to her entrance, sinking down just enough to take the tip before stilling. “I want to show you just how thankful I am…”
Her hips rolled torturously slow, taking you inch by inch until she was seated on your lap, walls clenching tight around you. A shudder ran through her, head tipping back and throat flushed bright in pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re so deep, detka…” she moaned. “Tell me how you want me to ride you… tell me what you want…”
“Use me… I like it when you use me,” you admitted, hands surging up to grip her hips possessively. “When you treat me like I’m just a toy for your pleasure…”
Natasha’s breath hitched audibly, the words washing over her like rain. It wasn’t often that you let her take control, the two of you often playfully fighting for control, so to hear that?
God, she was going to savor every second of this.
Her nails dug slightly into your chest as her thighs flexed. She lifted so agonizingly slow, until only the head remained inside, before dropping back down in one smooth, hard motion. The slap of skin on skin was barely audible over the low moan that tore from her throat, her hips lifting and falling over and over as she set a rhythm.
She didn’t look at you right away. Her head was tipped back, eyes half-closed and lips parted as she rode you like the feeling of your cock inside her was all that mattered; like the feeling of you was the only thing that mattered in her world.
“Fuck, you feel perfect,” she rasped, leaning forward to nip at the expanse of your throat. “Stay still. Let me take what I want.”
The bed beneath you creaked as her pace quickened, her hands falling to your knees when she arched her back, breasts bouncing with every greedy rock of her hips. She was chasing her climax shamelessly, using you like a toy made just for her.
“God, baby… you look incredible like this,” you groaned, one hand leaving her hip to drop between her thighs, your thumb circling her clit roughly.
Her hips snapped down hard, grinding you as deep as she could go at the first touch.
“Detka—” the word fractured on a gasp, her nails scoring lines down your thighs as she leaned back farther. Every roll of her body felt like electricity in her veins until her thighs were trembling. She didn’t slow—couldn’t—riding you faster. It was brutal but you didn’t care; all that mattered was the woman above you looked ready to shatter and you were desperate to drive her over the edge.
When you pinched her swollen bundle of nerves gently, her entire body seized, the noise that escaped her throat making your cock twitch desperately inside her. Beads of sweat trickled between her breasts, occasionally glinting in the moonlight from the window, and she looked like a fucking painting. Like some art you’d find in an overpriced gallery.
“Tasha…”
She didn’t say a word, her cunt fluttering wildly as she slammed down on final time, the orgasm ripping through her. Her back arched to the point it honestly looked painful and you surged up, looping your arm around her waist as you helped her ride out every last wave of ecstasy. Your hips rocked to meet every trembling grind from Natasha, her arms lifting shakily to wrap around your neck as she buried her face against your throat.
“…holy shit,” she whispered against your skin, “I think I saw God… and she looked like my girlfriend.”
You laughed breathlessly, still buried deep in her cunt as her walls milked you with helpless clenches. “That so?”
She nodded wordlessly, mouth trailing over your neck as she slowly ground against you. “Uh huh… think you can hold out a little longer, detka? I’m not through with you yet.”
-X-
Two Months Later
Things had gotten so much better over the last two months. The loft was clean, the sex was better than it’d been in months, and Natasha was genuinely… happy.
On top of that, you’d actually remembered her birthday. Granted, both of you were horrible at remembering the important dates until the day of but you’d actually planned something. It was small—a day out for her with her friends—but it was still sweet that you’d managed to plan something.
So when Wanda and Maria mentioned meeting you for dinner at the little Italian place she liked in Brooklyn, she hadn’t thought anything about it.
As Maria parked the car, Wanda slipped out first, wandering inside to check on “wait times”, slipping through the side door of the building left cracked open. She’d sent you a message five minutes ago, informing you they were two blocks out, so everything was set up and waiting.
Wanda peeked into the private room, beaming when she saw you standing awkwardly in the archway of the door. Soft lights were strung up around the room and everyone Natasha adored was crammed into the private space—her family, a handful of friends, and one already tipsy Tony who looked… unusually irate but there wasn’t time to question that.
“Show time,” Wanda whispered with a thumbs up before slipping out to meet Natasha and Maria at the entrance.
A few moments later, long enough to leave your heart pounding in your ears and the box in your pocket feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, Natasha’s friends led her into the room and she froze.
Her eyes went wide as she took in the smattering of faces sprawled out around the room before her gaze met yours. You were wearing that suit she loved seeing you in, standing there with a bashful grin as you lifted your glass in a quiet toast and the others followed.
“Happy birthday, Natasha.”
A disbelieving laugh broke from her throat as she pressed a hand briefly over her chest. “You absolute sneak. No wonder you sent me out with Wanda and Maria all day.”
Grinning, you crossed the room to wrap an arm around her waist, tucking her into your side. “And here you thought your biggest surprise was gonna be me actually remembering to say ‘happy birthday’ this morning.”
“…who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” she teased, lifting her hand to brush over the buttons near your heart, her expression softened with wonder.
Alexei cut in before you could respond, voice booming far too loud in the tiny space, “She is good girl! Planned everything like a general. She—”
Melina lifted her hand, slapping it over Alexei’s mouth casually, like she’d done it a million times before while Yelena just shook her head and muttered, “Volume, Papa.”
“So, gifts first, then food. Because your sister and Clint got into a breadstick eating competition while we were waiting for you and I’m afraid if we feed them anything else right this second, we might actually have to carry them out in wheelbarrows.”
Leading Natasha over to the seat that was designated for her with a large BIRTHDAY GIRL sash around the back, you took the seat beside her as everyone started passing over boxes and envelopes.
A sweet framed photo from a barbecue over the summer from Steve (no, she didn’t tear up, dammit. The garlic in the air was just strong)! A coffee mug from Clint that read: World’s Okayest Lawyer.
One by one, the people who loved her showered her in gifts and every new, thoughtful or silly present left her smile just a little wider.
Finally the pile dwindled to the envelope you’d placed in front of her. A spa weekend voucher for her, Wanda and Maria to the resort upstate she’d mentioned once in passing. Natasha’s brows lifted high in surprise, genuinely touched. “You bought us a whole weekend?”
“I—well, Victor paid for Wanda, I paid for you and we split Maria’s. It’s a joint gift, from us,” you explained with a sheepish grin. “But… I do have one more gift for you that should make up for me pestering our friend.”
You stood, kissing her temple lightly as you shifted to stand in front of her. Her forehead scrunched a little in confusion when you didn’t move to grab anything, but that uncertainty quickly bled away as you squared your shoulders and the room went silent.
(You might have told them ahead of time what you were planning.)
“Natalia Romanova, you are my heart. My soul. You are sunshine on a rainy day and a fireplace in winter. Every moment of life with you has been a blessing and every fucking—oops, shit, sorry, Wanda told me not to swear during this,” you muttered, clearing your throat even as your hands trembled, “Every day, I fall more and more in love with you… and I want to spend every second of every minute of every day with you for the rest of our lives.”
You dropped to one knee, fumbling the box out of your pocket.
“Tasha, will you mar—”
“Wait.” Tony’s chair scraped across the floor as he rose, swaying slightly, face flush with indignation and too much whiskey. “You shouldn’t do this until you know what she’s been doing.”
Pepper hissed his name and reached for his arm but he waved her off.
“Wanda started the whole thing,” he slurred, gesturing vaguely towards the brunette. “Bragging about how she has Victor trained like some goddamn lab rat. Sex as a reward when he does something good.” He laughed, though it was strained. “Taught Pepper and Natasha the trick too. But I caught on when she tried those mind games with me. They’ve been manipulating you two idiots for months.”
Natasha’s face paled, fingers slipping from yours where she’d been reaching for the ring box and falling dully in her lap. Her eyes flickered to you, wide and mortified as she waited for the anger, the hurt… for you to take away the box.
The silence in the room was so awkward but even Yelena couldn’t bring herself to break it.
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Victor leveled an unimpressed look at Tony. “Tony, I have known for months.” He shrugged. “It’s a good system. I pretend I don’t notice, Wanda is happy, our home is clean and the sex is… exceptional. Why would I blow up a good thing?”
You glanced up from where you were kneeling, smirking at Tony. “You… are a fucking idiot, Stark. Your wife was offering you sex for chores and instead you decided to try and ruin it for us?”
Tony’s glass froze halfway to his mouth as he gaped at you. “You… knew?”
“I’ve known for about a month,” you admitted, shrugging. “I vaguely mentioned it to Victor last month during game night, he explained the whole of it to me, and honestly, it’s a great way to get my dopamine kick.”
Natasha’s eyes snapped to you, but the fear on her face cracked away, replaced with stunned disbelief that hurriedly drifted into relief. You weren’t mad. You’d known for a while, but you were still doing the things that helped make her life easier…
Whatever guilt she’d felt about “tricking” you slowly bled out.
Tony sputtered. “You—you knew? Both of you? And you were just… fine with it?”
“Look, Tony, I like you… but your pride sometimes blinds you from the big picture. Nat’s happy and has a clean apartment, I get the dopamine and praise I crave, and we both get to come—uh, sorry.” You shot Natasha’s parents an apologetic smile before your attention returned to Tony. “Why would I willingly screw that up for myself? And instead of enjoying the benefits yourself, you’re sitting here calling us idiots for enjoying… some damn good rewards. Seems like we might be the geniuses here, Stark.”
Shrugging, your gaze shifted back to Natasha as you smiled softly.
“Now, before I was interrupted… Natasha, baby… will you marry me?”
Pepper gripped Tony’s arm and yanked him back into his chair, hissing something under her breath at him that made his ears go red with embarrassment, but no one was really paying him any mind, too busy watching you.
Natasha was nodding before the question even fully left your mouth, her hand reaching for the box. “Yes,” she whispered, voice shaky but so drenched in love it could’ve drowned you. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
She tugged you forward, one hand landing on the box while the other cradled your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss. Holding you close even as the table exploded into whistles and cheers.
“Give me that damn ring,” she mumbled against your lips, a stray tear or two streaking down her cheek.
“With pleasure.”
You pulled back just enough to flip the box open, hands shaking so hard you nearly dropped the damn thing in your haste, before carefully sliding the ring onto her finger.
“Your dad helped me pick it out,” you murmured, staring at the jewelry like it was the best thing you’d ever bought as you both stood up, admiring it in the light.
“…wait, you asked my dad to help you pick it out?” Her eyes filled with tears.
“She did!” Alexei practically shouted, throwing his arms around you both, “Asked your papa if she could have my blessing too! And I said of course! I tell her, “You make my Natalia happy? You take care of her?” and she says yes. I cry a little bit. Then we took celebration shots!”
You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head.
“…I might’ve thrown up in your mom’s roses. That shit tasted like rubbing alcohol,” you whispered, kissing Natasha’s temple while Alexei dropped back into an unoccupied chair.
Her shoulders shook with silent laughter as she leaned into your side, pressing her face against your neck. She thought she’d known what perfect was before she met you, but this?
Tags: fluff, flustered addison, reader is a little shit lol, they're in that bar I can't remember the name of but nobody drinks, no use of yn
Summary: Addison is trying to ask you out. You're trying to make the blush on her cheeks last longer.
Word count: 0.6k
If this is ooc I'll just kms no worries <3
The thing about surgeons is that they think they're god.
The thing about Addison Montgomery is that for all that blustering confidence, her unshakeable pride, she trips over her words and blushes pink as she stands in front of you, out of her scrubs and in tailored designer. Her hair is loose and pretty around her shoulders, long fingers fidgeting, the question right on her tongue, all but falling into your lap. Almost, but not quite there yet.
You have to say, you're enjoying the front row seat to Seattle's most successful neonatal surgeon stumbling at your feet.
"Dinner?" You grin, arms crossed on the edge of the bar. She's already flushed, her hair tucked and un-tucked behind her ear a dozen times in the span of three minutes, and you'll give in, you will, but you want to draw it out first.
Addison nods.
"You mean, like, with the girls?"
"What?" Her eyes widen. She stares at you for a second, trying to gauge if you're joking, before a nervous laugh bubbles from her chest. "No, that's not—not with anyone, I meant just…us." Her voice trails off, hands flexing on the edge of the bar. Lovely hands, you think, your eyes dropping down to where her wrist curves into her thumb, slender bones shifting under the thin cover of her skin. One goes up, to her ear; she pushes a few coppery strands back, and you hide your smile in the hinge of your shoulder. "Just you and me," she repeats, as if to get it through your head. Her voice is softer now, layered under the din of the bar. Losing conviction.
You edge a little closer, bridging the gap just enough to see the faint pulse between her collarbones. You raise your eyes to hers, let the rush of that glacial blue wash over you with a faint shiver down your spine.
"So, like a date?" You ask.
You're sure that if she were drinking she'd have choked. Her inhale is sharp, her chest expanding, chin ducking as she nods one two three times, the flush crawling down her jaw.
"Yes." She manages.
That should've been enough. It should've been more than enough.
But.
Your smile stretches coy, seeping into your voice. "Platonic date?"
"Those don't exist." Addison snaps, her eyes going narrow.
You laugh. Her shyness melts to exasperation, a pointed set to her jaw that has your veins burning.
"You're fucking with me." She exclaims.
"I'm not," you promise.
"No, you are."
"Addie." You say warmly, taking her hand. She immediately goes still again, her breath hitching. "I'd love to go on a non-platonic dinner date with you, just the two of us." You hold her gaze, your thumb skating over her knuckles. "That's what this is, right?"
Addison swallows.
"Yes." She says.
You smile, softer now, giving her hand a squeeze. "Well then, I'd love to." You say genuinely.
Her chest expands with a deep inhale. You're looking at her far after she looks away, another laugh tickling your mouth.
"Oh my god." Addison shakes her head, pressing a hand into her eye. You're more than ridiculously pleased that the other one is still trapped beneath yours on the bar. "You were enjoying that, weren't you?"
You look at her with all the innocence of a saint. "I just didn't want to understand you wrong. Get the wrong idea, you know."
"Liar."
You shrug, your teeth biting down on your lip. "You're cute when you're flustered."
Addison takes her hand back, tucks it into her body as she crosses her arms. The loss doesn't make you feel cold. You're hot all over.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." She mutters, the corners of her mouth lifting.
The elevator ride up to the penthouse feels like champagne fizz in your veins -- the expensive kind. You’re still flushed from the gala, heels dangling from your fingers, dress clinging to the heat of your skin. Your laugh echoes through the hallway as you unlock the penthouse door, still replaying something stupid someone said near the bar.
You step inside, smiling.
Wanda doesn’t smile back.
She stands in the dim light of the foyer like she’s carved from something ancient -- auburn hair cascading over her bare shoulders, green eyes striking even in the shadowed apartment, her long legs framed by a deep emerald dress slit high enough to make you forget your own name.
You stop breathing because she does.
Not a blink.
Not a sound.
Not even a rise in her chest.
“Wanda?” you ask, half-laughing.
“You know what’s funny?” Her voice is silk stretched too tight, a thread threatening to snap. “That she still looks at you like she remembers the way you sounded.”
Your stomach flips. “Wanda--”
“Don’t.”
Her heels click once on the marble.
And again.
Then again.
Each step sounds like a countdown.
She comes closer, and you can smell her perfume -- something warm, spicy, expensive, something that always makes your knees weak. Her dress hugs her waist and flares at her hips, moving with every slow, lethal step she takes toward you.
“You think I didn’t see it?” she asks, tilting her head. Her auburn curls fall over her collarbone in a way that should be illegal. “The way she touched your waist? The way she leaned in like she used to fuck you?”
You freeze.
Half from guilt.
Half from the sheer gravity of her.
“That was years ago,” you whisper. “It meant nothing.”
“Oh, I know it meant nothing.” Wanda steps close enough that her breath brushes your cheek. “But she doesn’t.”
Her green eyes glow softly -- not with magic, just with emotion.
Jealousy looks gorgeous on her.
Dangerous.
Ground shaking.
You take a shaky breath. “You’re overreacting.”
Her lips curl -- a slow, sharp, incredulous smile that hits you low in your stomach.
“Say it again.”
You lift your chin, pretending you’re braver than you feel. “You’re overreacting.”
Wanda’s laugh is quiet.
Slow.
Furious.
Before you can blink, your back hits the floor to ceiling window. Cool glass against overheated skin.
She cages you in with her body -- toned legs, bare shoulders, that dress that shouldn’t be legal. Her hand slides to your hip, squeezing like she owns it. Her thigh pushes between yours, forcing you slightly up the glass.
“Attitude,” she murmurs, eyes dropping to your mouth, “is a very dangerous choice tonight.”
“Wanda--”
“No.”
Her voice is velvet and threat. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not when you were letting her stand that close to you.”
“I wasn’t--”
“Really?” Her fingers wrap around your throat -- not tight, just claiming, her thumb brushing your pulse. “Because all I saw was someone who used to have you looking at you like she wanted seconds.”
Her other hand slides down your waist, tracing the curve of your dress-- the one she helped you zip before the gala, the one that made her mutter something sinful in Sokovian under her breath.
“She looked at you,” Wanda whispers, lips grazing your jaw, “like she remembered every inch of your body.”
You inhale sharply. “She barely talked to me.”
“Barely,” Wanda repeats, the word low and mocking. “Barely was enough for you to smile at her?”
“I wasn’t-- I just--”
“You just what?” Wanda leans in closer, green eyes blazing. “You just let her touch you?”
“She didn’t touch--”
“She touched your waist.” Wanda’s voice dips, dark and quiet. “I saw her hand. I saw you freeze. I saw the way she looked at you like she was remembering the taste of you.”
Your breath stutters. “I didn’t let her do anything.”
Something shifts in Wanda then -- something dangerous, hungry, protective in a way that makes your heart slam against your ribs.
Wanda smiles.
Not sweet.
Not soft.
Possession, pure and carved in fire.
Her hands slide to the backs of your thighs, lifting you without warning. A low groan leaves her throat -- not animalistic, just jealous in a way that sends heat curling down your spine.
Your hands fly to her shoulders automatically, gripping the smooth skin there, fingers curling into the hard muscle of her arms. Her dress brushes your legs as she carries you across the room, her stride slow, commanding, like she’s reclaiming something stolen.
“Wrap your legs around me,” she orders.
You do -- instantly, instinctively.
Wanda’s lips drag down your throat, leaving warmth and electricity in their wake. You swear you can feel her pulse in every place she touches.
She drops you gently on the bed -- but before you can even gasp, her hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Her hair falls around you like a curtain of auburn silk, her breath hot on your lips.
“You’re mine,” she whispers. “Not hers. Not anyone’s.”
Your defiance sparks one last time. “You don’t get to decide--”
Wanda’s eyes flicker, dark and hungry. She leans down, breath brushing your mouth.
“Baby,” she murmurs, voice sinful and low,
“I’m not asking.”
Her knee pushes between your thighs, spreading you just enough to pull a soft sound from your throat.
“That’s better,” she breathes. “Now do it for me.”
“Do what?” you whisper.
Her lips almost touch yours.
“Spread your legs.”
Your breath catches.
“Wanda--”
She smiles. Fire. Promise. Possession wrapped in silk.
“I said,” her voice dropping to something wicked and velvet-smooth,
“spread them.”
Your legs fall open without your brain's consent. Wanda's smile widens, satisfaction and hunger clear in her green eyes.
She moves between your thighs like a goddess--confident, beautiful, deadly.
Her dress rides up higher, revealing more skin, more muscle tone.
"That's my girl," she murmurs, releasing your wrists to trail her hands down your arms.
Her knees push your legs further apart. "So pretty," she whispers, looking at your spread legs, your underwear visible thanks to the high slit of your dress.
She leans over you, her green eyes locked onto yours, a possessive glint in their depths. "Keep your hands there," she orders softly, her breath warm against your lips.
Her hands then trail down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until they reach the hem of your dress.
Without breaking eye contact, Wanda slowly lifts your dress, revealing your legs, your hips, the black lace underwear underneath. She bites her lip, clearly appreciating the view.
"God," she whispers, her hands tracing your thighs, your hips, your waist.
She then hooks her fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down your legs. "Lift your hips," she commands. You do, and she pulls them off completely, tossing them aside. "Spread your legs wider,"
Wanda's eyes darken with desire as you comply, spreading your legs wider for her.
She takes a moment to appreciate the view, her gaze roaming over your bare pussy before meeting your eyes again.
"So fucking pretty," she murmurs, her hands gripping your inner thighs, keeping your legs spread open. She leans down, her face hovering just inches above your center.
"And all mine," she adds possessively before pressing a soft kiss to your clit.
"Mmm..." you whisper, your hips jerking slightly at the sudden contact. "Wanda..." your voice is soft, almost pleading. "Please..."
Without waiting for further invitation, Wanda dives in, her tongue pressing flat against your clit, making slow circles.
She groans softly, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body.
"Fuck, you taste good," she murmurs, her hands gripping your thighs tighter, keeping your legs spread open for her.
"Oh god..." you moan, your hands flying to her hair, tangling in the soft auburn strands. "Don't stop..."
Wanda smiles against your core, the motion making you shudder.
She looks up at you from between your legs, her green eyes dark with arousal, her lips and chin wet with your arousal. "Not stopping," she promises before diving back in, sucking your clit gently into her mouth.
"Yes, yes, yes..." you chant, your hips starting to move slightly, chasing the pleasure Wanda's skilled mouth is providing. "Right there..."
Wanda nods slightly, continuing her onslaught with her mouth and tongue.
One of her hands slides up your thigh, finding your entrance wet and ready. Without hesitation, she slips two fingers inside you, curling them upward to press against that sweet spot that makes you see stars.
"Oh fuck!" you cry out, your inner muscles clamping down around her fingers. "Please please please..."
As she continues to work her fingers and mouth on you, Wanda's free hand slides down her own body, mirroring your position.
She spreads her legs wider, her own hand disappearing beneath her dress.
You can hear the wet sounds of her fingers sliding through her folds as she pleasures herself while eating you out.
"Mmm... fuck, you're so tight," she murmurs, her fingers curling inside you again.
"And so fucking sweet..." Her own hips start moving slightly against her hand. "Come on, baby.. tell me who you belong to…"
"You..." you gasp out, your hips bucking against her hand and face. "I belong to you... only you, Wanda..."
Wanda's eyes light up with satisfaction and possessiveness at your words.
She doubles her efforts, her fingers pistoning in and out of you rapidly as she sucks hard on your clit.
"That's right..." she murmurs against you. "Only mine..." Her own hips move faster against her hand, her breath coming out in short pants against your wet heat.
Wanda's relentless pace sends you careening towards the edge.
Your legs shake, your breath comes in short gasps, and your walls clench tightly around her fingers. "I'm... I'm gonna..." you manage to choke out between moans.
Wanda looks up at you, her green eyes burning with intensity.
"Come for me," she commands, her fingers curling hard against that spot inside you as she sucks your clit between her teeth. "Come all over my face and fingers, baby. Show me who you belong to."
You scream as you shatter apart “WANDA!" as you come hard against her face and fingers.
She groans against you, "Fuck yes..." she whispers against your sensitive flesh.
Her own hand moves faster between her legs as she watches you fall apart for her, until she's crying out muffled sounds against you too -- coming simultaneously with making you come
Wanda continues to lick and suck gently until your orgasm subsides into shivering aftershocks.
She removes her fingers slowly, bringing them to her mouth and sucking them clean with a satisfied groan.
"Mmm... you taste so good," she says softly before crawling up your body, her dress clinging to her curves.
She presses gentle kisses to your lips, chin, jawline--anywhere she can reach without lifting her head off you.
"Mine," she repeats possessively against every inch of skin she kisses. "Mine mine mine..."
With a final possessive kiss to your forehead, Wanda rests her head on your chest, her heart pounding in sync with yours. "And no one else gets to look at you like that," she murmurs, her voice laced with jealousy and love. "Not even for a second."
And in that moment, wrapped up in each other's arms and hearts, you know without a doubt that you belong completely and utterly to Wanda Maximoff.
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