Months of almosts, late-night conversations, lingering touches during training, Natasha Romanoff has perfected restraint. So have you. The line never breaks… until a simple heartbeat monitor tells the truth neither of you have been saying out loud.
November 29-Dec 2, 2025
(6714 Words)
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The training room is empty except for the hum of equipment and the soft click of Natasha’s boots against the floor.
It’s always quieter when it’s just the two of you.
You notice it months ago, how she schedules things late, how your name ends up next to hers on drills that don’t technically require a partner. Nobody says anything. Nobody needs to. The team jokes about it anyway.
The first time she stands too close, it’s during a spar.
You’re new, still trying to prove you belong, and she circles you slowly, studying. You feel her before she touches you, that steady presence like gravity. When she finally moves, she doesn’t throw you immediately. She corrects you.
Her hand settles on your hip to adjust your stance.
“Lower,” she murmurs near your ear.
You do.
She doesn’t move her hand right away. You pretend not to notice. She pretends she forgot.
Neither of you mentions it. It keeps happening.
Passing you gear with fingers brushing too long. Leaning across you to grab a file she could easily reach another way. Sitting close during briefings despite half the room being empty. The tension never explodes, it stretches, pulls tight, then eases before it snaps.
Always stopping just before the line.
Months later, you’re in the kitchen at night, the compound asleep. She’s across the counter, sleeves rolled, absentmindedly turning a knife in her fingers. Not threatening, just thinking.
You’ve been talking about nothing for an hour.
She grows quieter. Not distant. Focused.
You notice when she stops spinning the knife.
“I should tell you something,” she says.
You look up.
It’s the first time she looks unsure around you. Not weak, Natasha Romanoff doesn’t do weak, but careful. Measured in a way that feels personal instead of tactical.
“I don’t… usually explain myself to people.”
“Okay.”
She watches your face like she’s bracing for impact.
“I’m intersex,” she says, voice steady but low. “Some people would call it—” a small exhale, almost embarrassed, “—weird. I prefer not making it a topic.”
You blink once.
“That’s fine.”
She frowns slightly, searching your reaction.
“That’s it?”
You shrug lightly. “You’re still you.”
The tension in her shoulders eases in a way you’ve never seen before. Not relief exactly, something warmer. Something softer.
She studies you for a long moment, eyes gentler than usual.
“…Good,” she says quietly.
After that, she sits closer when you talk. Not accidental anymore. Not explained either.
Now, the lab.
A new SHIELD biometric monitor prototype rests on the table, wires, adhesive pads, small display screen. You volunteered because she asked before anyone else could.
Natasha stands in front of you, holding a sensor strip between her fingers.
“You’re relaxed, yes?” she asks.
You lean back on the table, smirking. “Around you? Always dangerous.”
Her mouth curves.
“I’ll try not to take advantage.”
She steps closer. You pretend your breathing stays normal.
Her fingers brush your collarbone as she places the first pad. Cool adhesive meets skin, but her touch lingers just a second longer than required. Her focus is professional, mostly, but her eyes flick to yours briefly.
The monitor beeps softly. She doesn’t look yet.
Another sensor lower on your side. She lifts your shirt just enough, knuckles grazing your ribs.
You swallow.
“You’re tense,” she says.
“You’re hovering.”
“That is part of the procedure.”
“Pretty sure SHIELD didn’t specify the staring.”
“I improvise.”
You huff a quiet laugh.
She finally glances at the screen. Then pauses.
Her eyebrow lifts almost imperceptibly.
“What?” you ask.
“Baseline elevated.”
You shrug. “Maybe I’m excited for science.”
“Mm.”
She doesn’t believe you. You can tell by the slight tilt of her head, predator curiosity. She steps back deliberately.
The number drops.
She steps close again, closer than before, reaching across you to adjust a wire she already adjusted.
The number spikes.
Your breath catches before you can stop it. She sees the screen this time while watching you. Slow understanding spreads across her expression.
You look away. “Faulty monitor.”
“I doubt that.”
She moves even nearer, one hand braced beside your hip against the table, effectively caging you without touching.
The display climbs steadily.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.
She lowers her voice. “Interesting calibration issue.”
“It’s new tech.”
“Mm,” she murmurs again, clearly unconvinced.
Her fingers adjust the pad over your sternum, unnecessary, precise, and your pulse jumps harder.
You exhale shakily. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Testing variables,” she says smoothly.
“Romanoff.”
She smiles slightly, small, satisfied, not teasing the way she does with others. Softer. Focused entirely on you.
“I wondered,” she admits quietly.
“Wondered what?”
“If it was only me.”
You meet her eyes.
The air goes still.
Her hand remains resting lightly against your ribs, not moving, not pulling away. The monitor continues its steady rapid rhythm.
She watches the numbers, then you, then back again.
“You never cross lines,” you say.
“You never ask me to.”
The space between you feels thinner than it should.
Her voice drops almost to a whisper. “But your body answers questions you don’t.”
You could step away.
You don’t.
Her thumb shifts slightly, barely, and the monitor jumps again.
A faint warmth touches her expression, rare and unguarded.
“I think I like this device,” she says.
You let out a nervous breath. “Are you always this annoying?”
“Possibly.”
Neither of you moves back.
For the first time in months, the line doesn’t feel distant. It feels close enough to touch.
The monitor keeps beeping.
Steady. Fast. Impossible to ignore.
Natasha doesn’t step away.
Her hand is still braced beside your hip, the other hovering near the sensor on your chest like she forgot the original purpose of touching you at all. She isn’t looking at the screen anymore.
She’s looking at your mouth.
You notice because you’re already looking at hers.
A small silence settles, not empty, just heavy. Charged. Like the moment before a storm breaks but never quite does.
“You’re distracting the data,” you say quietly.
Her gaze flicks up to your eyes. “The data is honest.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
A corner of her mouth lifts. “I’m learning.”
Her voice lowers, softer than you’ve ever heard it during training, stripped of the usual sharpness. Personal.
She leans in just enough that you feel her breath, warm against your cheek.
Your pulse spikes again.
The monitor reacts instantly.
Natasha glances sideways at it without moving away. “There it is.”
You try to laugh but it comes out thinner than intended. “You’re manufacturing results.”
Her fingers slide lightly along the edge of the adhesive pad, barely grazing skin, not enough to be accidental anymore.
“You react before I even touch you,” she murmurs.
Your throat tightens. “Maybe I know you’re about to.”
She studies you carefully, expression softer than teasing now, intent, almost cautious, like she’s approaching something fragile instead of cornering prey.
“Months,” she says quietly. “You’ve done this for months.”
“Done what?”
“Stayed.”
Her eyes flick to your lips again. You notice the tiny pause she doesn’t quite hide, the restraint she always keeps wrapped tight around herself.
“You never pull away,” she adds.
“You never give me a reason to.”
The air feels thinner.
Her thumb rests just beneath your ribs again, not moving, just there, grounding, claiming space without force. The monitor betrays you immediately.
You close your eyes briefly, exhale.
“Natasha…”
She stills at her name, the way she always does when it’s just you saying it.
“Yes?” softer now.
You open your eyes. She’s closer than before, and neither of you pretends it’s about calibration anymore.
“You’re staring.”
“So are you.”
A beat.
Her voice drops to almost a whisper. “You didn’t look at me differently.”
You know what she means, that night in the kitchen. The careful confession she rarely gives anyone.
Your gaze flicks down to her mouth and back up. “I meant it.”
Something in her expression shifts, subtle, but real. The careful control loosens at the edges.
Her forehead nearly touches yours now, not quite there, a breath of distance left.
“And if I stop pretending this is professional?” she asks quietly.
Your heartbeat pounds loud enough the monitor practically protests.
“You already did,” you whisper back.
Another second passes, stretched thin, fragile, the last thread before something changes.
Her eyes soften, searching yours once more like she’s confirming permission rather than taking it.
She doesn’t close the distance. But she doesn’t move away either.
The beeping fills the silence, rapid and undeniable, and for the first time neither of you even glances at the screen.
Because you both already know what it says.
Natasha doesn’t say anything.
The teasing edge leaves her expression, replaced by something quieter. Intent.
Her hand slides from your ribs, up, slow enough that you feel every inch of movement, until her fingers reach the back of your neck. She pauses there, giving you time. Giving you space to move.
You don’t.
Her fingers thread into your hair.
The contact isn’t rough, not yet, but it’s firm. Certain. Her thumb presses lightly at the base of your skull as she tilts your head just slightly.
Your breath catches.
She leans in. And you meet her halfway.
The first touch of her lips is testing, barely there, a brush that could still be mistaken for an accident if either of you wanted to lie about it later.
Neither of you does.
Your lips press again, softer this time but deliberate. Warm. Real. You both inhale at the same moment. The sound of the monitor spikes sharply in the background.
Her mouth parts against yours on instinct, breath warm, mingling. The kiss deepens slowly, not rushed, not frantic, just controlled tension finally snapping.
Her grip tightens in your hair.
Not painful. Anchoring.
Your hand slides up her side, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt before climbing higher, threading into her red hair. It’s softer than you expect, thick between your fingers.
She exhales sharply against your mouth when you pull her closer.
The sound goes straight through you.
Your lips move together again, slower now but heavier, testing turns into hunger. The months of restraint bleed into the way she kisses you, measured at first, then less careful.
You can feel her breathing change.
Feel the warmth of her body pressed closer to yours.
You break apart for half a second, foreheads nearly touching, both of you panting lightly, breaths brushing over swollen lips.
Her eyes drop to your mouth again.
Your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might shake the table beneath you.
The monitor practically sings with it.
Natasha’s gaze flicks sideways for just a second.
She sees the numbers. Sees the spike.
Something shifts in her expression, a flicker of satisfaction, but deeper than teasing now. Certain. Claimed.
She looks back at you, pupils darker.
“You’re very honest,” she murmurs, breath uneven.
You don’t get a chance to answer.
She kisses you again, this time without hesitation.
Her hand tightens in your hair, tilting your head more firmly as she takes control of the angle. The kiss is deeper, more confident, her mouth moving against yours with purpose now that she’s seen exactly what she does to you.
Your fingers curl tighter in her hair in response.
The monitor continues its rapid rhythm, undeniable proof of the tension finally unleashed.
She breathes in through her nose, slow and deliberate, as if savoring it, the closeness, the reaction, you.
When she pulls back again, it’s only far enough to let you breathe. Her thumb brushes lightly at your jaw.
And she smiles, softer than smug, more like wonder.
Then she leans in again, like she has no intention of stopping now that the line is gone.
Your lips meet again, this time with more urgency. Your hands slide down to her hips, pulling her closer.
The monitor beeps wildly in the background, its rapid rhythm matching your heart rate. Natasha's hands roam your sides, her touch both questioning and demanding.
She breaks the kiss to trail open mouthed kisses along your jaw, her breathing heavy.
"You're really going to make me lose control," she murmurs against your skin. Her hands slide up your back, then down to your hips, pulling you flush against her.
You can feel every curve of her body pressed against yours, the heat between you almost overwhelming.
The monitor's beeps grow louder, more insistent, but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. Natasha's hands grip your hips tightly as she kisses you deeply, her tongue sliding against yours in a desperate rhythm.
"Fuck the calibration," she whispers between kisses. "I need..." She doesn't finish the sentence, instead kissing you harder to convey what she means.
Your hands explore her body eagerly, tracing the strong muscles of her back, sliding down to grip her ass.
She groans into your mouth, the sound sending a shock of desire straight to your core. The table presses into your back as she pushes you against it, her body pinning you in place.
The monitor beeps frantically now, reflecting your rapidly rising heart rates and shallow breaths.
"This thing is going to break," she says with a breathless laugh, kissing along your neck.
Your head tilts back, giving her more access.
"Let it break," you gasp out, fingers digging into her hips.
The lab is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the frantic beeping of the monitor. Natasha's teeth graze your collarbone, her hands working to pull your shirt up.
The shirt comes up, exposing your stomach. Natasha's lips trail down, sternum, ribs, waistband, each kiss leaving fire in its wake. The monitor dangles uselessly from your chest, wires trailing off.
She doesn't care anymore.
Her fingers hook into your waistband, looking up at you.
"Is this still protocol?" you ask, voice ragged.
She pauses, kneeling between your legs, her eyes dark and hungry.
"No." One word. Final. She pulls you closer.
You feel her breath hot against your stomach, her hands gripping your sides possessively.
"This is personal," she groans softly, leaning in to press an open mouthed kiss just above your hipbone.
You gasp, fingers tangling in her hair. The monitor's beeps rapidly, the urgency as it detects the change in your heart rate.
"Very personal," she repeats, her tongue tracing the line of your waistband.
Your hips jerk involuntarily.
Natasha smiles against your skin, clearly pleased with the reaction.
Her hands move to your knees, spreading your legs wider. The monitor's wires pull taut, the device straining against your chest as your heart pounds.
She hooks her fingers into the top of your pants, tugging them down just enough to expose more skin.
"Very, very personal," she whispers, leaning down to kiss the newly revealed flesh. Her mouth is warm and wet, leaving a trail of heat that shoots straight up your spine. "Is that clear?"
Your breath hitches as her tongue flicks out to trace patterns on your lower abdomen.
"Crystal," you manage to gasp out, hips bucking toward her mouth.
The monitor beeps chaotically now, its display flashing warnings about elevated vitals.
Natasha's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she lavishes attention on your hipbones, her teeth grazing the skin lightly. She's taking her time, savoring every reaction, cataloging each gasp and whimper.
Then her movements pause, her breath warm against your stomach. For a moment, the only sound is the urgent beeping of the monitor. Then, slowly, she sits back on her heels, her eyes locked with yours.
She doesn't speak immediately, instead reaching down to adjust herself through her pants. You watch as she does, your eyes widening slightly at the obvious bulge.
"Yes," she answers simply already knowing your question, her voice low and husky. "Very hard." She leans forward again, her hands sliding up your thighs.
Her thumb hooks into both waistbands now, tugging them down lower. Her gaze never leaves yours, dark, hungry, unashamed.
"You want to know?" she murmurs, a challenging lift to her eyebrow. "You want to see what you do to me?"
She adjusts herself again, and you can feel the heat radiating through the thin fabric. Her other hand finds your wet core, fingers sliding slowly through your clothing.
She watches your face carefully as she unbuttons her pants, pushing them down along with her underwear. Her length springs free, thick and hard. She wraps a hand around it slowly, giving you a clear view.
"This," she says softly, stroking herself once, "is what you do to me."
Her fingers continue their lazy circles on your clit through your fabric "Hard enough to hurt." She strokes herself again, slower this time. "Do you see?"
Your mouth goes dry at the sight.
She's bigger than you expected, thicker, longer.
She strokes herself again, her movements slow and deliberate. You can see the veins bulging beneath her skin, see the way her tip glistens with pre-cum.
Natasha continues touching herself, her other hand still rubbing slow circles over your clit. The contrast of sensations is overwhelming, her big, hard length moving in her fist, her gentle fingers teasing you through your pants that you want off completely, it’s torture.
The monitor beeps wildly, reflecting your rapid pulse and shallow breaths.
"Do you like seeing me like this?" she asks, her voice a low rasp. "Do you like knowing you make me so hard?"
She spreads her legs wider without waiting for an answer, giving you a full view of her stroking herself.
Her thick length moves easily in her fist, pre-cum dripping down to wet her palm. She's completely shameless, touching herself openly while watching you react.
Her fingers pause on your clit, waiting for your response. "Because you should know," she says softly, "that I've been like this all day—thinking about you." She squeezes herself harder, "Wanting to be inside you."
Your back arches off the table, a desperate moan escaping your lips as you look down at her stroking herself.
"Natasha, please—" you beg, voice breaking, "get these off me. I can't—" Your hips buck against her hand, seeking more friction, more contact.
The monitor's beeps grow erratic, almost frantic now. "I need to feel you. Inside. Please, just—" Your thighs fall open wider, offering yourself to her. "Take them off. Take me."
Natasha's eyes flash with intensity at your pleading words.
With a swift, decisive movement, she removes her hand from your clit and shoves your pants and underwear down to your knees, exposing you completely.
The monitor's wires pull taut again as you're laid bare before her. She releases her grip on herself, stepping closer between your legs.
"Spread wider," she commands, voice low and commanding. You comply instantly, hooking your arms behind your knees to hold yourself open for her. "Good girl,"
She steps even closer, her thick, wet tip pressing against your entrance.
You're soaking already, spread wide and flushed pink.
She runs her tip up and down your slit slowly, collecting your slick on herself. The monitor beeps almost aggressively now, reflecting your desperate state.
"You're dripping," she observes softly, circling your entrance with her head. "Is this all for me?"
She pushes in just barely, enough to stretch you open slightly.
You moan out when she breaches you, even just a little. "Yes," you gasp, "all for you. Please, Natasha—please fuck me."
Your legs shake with the effort of holding yourself open, your walls clenching around the tiny bit of her inside you. The monitor is basically screaming now.
She pushes in a tiny bit more, watching as your pussy stretches around her thick head. She curses under her breath, "Fuck," at the sight of your tight walls struggling to accommodate even this small amount of her.
You moan loudly, praising her, "God, you're so big..."
The monitor spikes dangerously high. She pulls back slightly then pushes forward again just an inch deeper.
Your eyes roll back as she teases you with her. She's barely inside you, just an inch or two, but it feels enormous. Your walls are gripping her tightly, sucking her in despite your size difference.
Natasha watches intently, her jaw clenched. "You take this small bit so well," she murmurs, pushing in another half inch before pulling back again. "But I'm much bigger than this." She looks down at where you're joined.
She pushes in again, going deeper this time, about three inches now. Your legs shake, your walls stretching obscenely around her thick shaft.
The monitor reaches its limit, beeping a continuous high-pitched tone.
Natasha curses again, watching her length slowly disappearing inside you.
"Fuck, look at that," she whispers hoarsely, "You're so tight... And I'm not even halfway inside."
She pulls back slowly, watching your body clamp down to keep her in.
You whimper, reaching down to clutch at the edge of the table.
"More," you plea, your thighs trembling. "Natasha, please—"
She pushes forward again, sinking another inch into you.
Your eyes roll back, a broken moan escaping your lips. "You're so thick," you breathe
Natasha watches with rapt fascination as your body struggles to accommodate her. At four inches, you're already taking more than most would be able to handle, yet you're begging for more. She can feel your pussy pulsing and clenching around her, trying to milk her even though she hasn't even begun to fuck you properly yet.
"You're incredible," she breathes, her voice strained. "So perfect."
She pulls back slowly, then pushes forward again, going deeper this time, five inches—
Your back arches off the table as she pushes in deeper, your body stretching around her massive size, you can feel every ridge and vein of her thick cock.
The monitor is beeping erratically.
"Natasha—oh my god—" You gasp, your fingers digging into the table. "More—give me more!"
She curses softly, watching her length disappear inside you like you're made for it. Her restraint snaps at your desperate pleas. With a groan, she leans down and captures your mouth in a fierce kiss as she begins to fuck you properly. Her hips move with powerful thrusts, burying her entire length inside you in one swift motion.
You scream into her mouth, your body convulsing as she hits a spot you didn't know existed.
"Fuck—" She breaks the kiss to curse, her forehead pressed against yours as she pounds into you. "Fuck—fuck—fuck—"
You moan loudly with each brutal thrust, your eyes rolling back as Natasha pounds into you.
"So deep—oh god, you're so deep—" You praise her size, your nails digging into her back.
Natasha grunts with each powerful snap of her hips, green eyes half lidded as she watches herself disappear inside you again and again. Her hands grip your thighs tightly, spreading you wider to take even more of her.
Your legs are thrown over her shoulders, your ankles locked behind her neck as she fucks you mercilessly. You can feel every inch of her moving inside you, stretching you open wider than you've ever been.
"Natasha—fuck—right there—" You moan out, your hands grasping at her hair as she hits your deepest point. "I can't—oh god—" Natasha groans, her voice thick with pleasure.
Green eyes flick between watching her length disappear inside you and meeting your gaze.
"You're so beautiful," she breathes out, hips snapping forcefully, "Taking me so well... " Her hands roam over your curves possessively. "Fuck yes—you're so tight... So wet for me..." She can feel your walls squeezing around her, pulling her deeper with each thrust. The monitor is completely overwhelmed, beeping non-stop. "You feel so good—"
She leans down, capturing your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss as she continues to ruin you from the inside out. Her thrusts are deep and powerful, her hips slamming against yours with enough force to make the table shake.
"I've dreamt of this for so long," she gasps out between kisses, "Of filling you up, claiming you, making you mine." Her hands grip your hair tightly, pulling you closer as she kisses you desperately. "And you're even more perfect than I imagined."
She pulls back to watch herself disappear inside you again and again. "Look at how well you take me," she pants out, voice thick with lust. "So fucking perfect... So wet... So tight..." Her eyes roll back slightly as she hits a particularly deep spot. "Fuck—you're gripping me so good—"
You moan out as her next thrust hits that exact spot, your walls clenching around her tightly.
"There—it's right there—" You gasp, looking up at her with desperate eyes. "Please Natasha, don't stop—don't you dare stop—" Your hands grip the table so hard your knuckles turn white, lifting your hips to meet each punishing thrust. "Right there, right there—"
Natasha's hips stutter, then snap forward harder, angling herself to hit that spot over and over. Her breathing is heavy, her hands tightening on your hips possessively.
"Fuck—baby—" She groans loudly as your hand tangles in her red hair, pulling her head down. "You're gonna make me come so fucking fast—" Her eyes flutter closed as you tease her with the movement of your hips, your lips ghosting over hers.
"Don't stop—don't you dare fucking stop—"
She kisses you messily, desperately, her tongue pushing into your mouth as she starts moving her hips again, slowly this time, dragging her thick length in and out of you.
You whisper against her lips again, "Don't stop," letting your hips move beneath her, rolling against her in slow waves.
Natasha moans into your mouth, her grip on your hips bruising. "Can't—can't last—"
Her forehead drops to yours, green eyes half-lidded and fucked out, watching you like you're the only thing in the world. Her hips stutter, thrusting deeper, faster. "Baby I'm—fuck—"
You kiss her harder, your tongue pushing back into her mouth as your hips move faster against hers.
Natasha groans, her body tensing as she gets closer to the edge. "Fuck—fuck—baby—" Her hands slide up from your hips to your breasts, squeezing them tightly as she continues to thrust into you. "I'm gonna come—I'm gonna fuck—" She pulls back to look at you, eyes wild with pleasure. "Come with me—"
Your bodies move together perfectly now, hips snapping in sync as you both climb towards release.
The table creaks loudly beneath you, the monitor completely forgotten, beeping wildly.
Natasha's thick length hits that spot inside you with every thrust, making stars explode behind your eyelids.
"Right there—right there—" you pant against her lips. "I'm so close—"
She kisses you again, swallowing your moans as she fucks you harder. "Come on my cock—come all over me—"
Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, making you cry out into her mouth.
Your pussy squeezes her tightly, pulsing around her thick length.
Natasha groans loudly, feeling you come apart underneath her.
"Fuck yes—fuck—" She doesn't slow down, fucking you through your orgasm, drawing it out. "Take it—" She buries herself deep and stills, coming hard inside you with a loud groan. "Baby—fuck—"
She collapses onto you, still inside you as she catches her breath.
Her face is buried in your neck, hands roaming over your body possessively. The monitor is beeping steadily now, reflecting your rapid but slowly stabilizing heart rate.
Natasha kisses your neck softly, her hard length still pulsing occasionally as more arousal leaks out of her.
"Mine—" she murmurs quietly, "All mine—" Her legs tangle with yours, keeping her close to you. "Fuck—baby—"
She lifts her head to look at you, green eyes soft and satisfied. A lazy smile spreads across her face as she presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
"You okay?" she asks softly, her thumb brushing over your cheek. Her hips give a small roll inside you, making you both groan at the sensation of her still-hard cock moving within you.
"I didn't hurt you too much did I?" Her voice is low and concerned despite the playful tone of her earlier words.
You shake your head, smiling up at her dazed and happy.
One of your hands comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her soft skin.
"Beautiful," you whisper, voice rough from moaning. "You're so beautiful, Natasha."
She swallows hard, visibly trembling at the words. It's clear this wasn't just physical for her, she's completely down bad.
Her eyes flutter closed at your touch and praise, her face softening. She leans into your touch like a cat, humming softly.
"Baby—" She presses a gentle kiss to your palm before nuzzling into your hand possessively. "You can't say things like that..." She takes a deep breath, her hips giving another small roll inside you. "Nobody's ever—" She stops, unable to finish. Her vulnerability hangs in the air between you, raw and unguarded. "You’ve ruined me," she admits quietly, burying her face in your neck again.
You wrap your arms around her, holding her close as she hides her face in your neck. Your fingers run soothingly through her hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, slow and steady now, and the soft beeping of the monitor.
Her lips move to your neck again, placing soft, worshipful kisses there.
"I'm addicted to you," she murmurs against your skin. "So fucking addicted."
You tilt your head to give her more access, and she takes it greedily, sucking on your pulse point.
The second round of need is building quickly, she can feel it, you can feel it. The monitor starts beeping faster again as Natasha rolls her hips inside you, making you moan loudly.
"More—"
You nod frantically, your legs wrapping around her hips to pull her closer.
Somehow, you both managed to make it to Natasha's room without anyone noticing how thoroughly fucked you both look. The moment the door shuts behind you, she pushes you against it, kissing you deeply and desperately.
"Fuck," she breathes against your lips, "I need you again."
But before she can push further, you're dropping to your knees, your fingers already working her belt open.
"Oh fuck," she groans softly, watching you.
Your hands make quick work of her belt and pants, pushing them down her hips. Her thick length springs free, already hard again and leaking.
"Baby—" she pants, her hands coming to rest on your head. You look up at her, your eyes filled with desire as you lean forward and lick a stripe up her shaft. "Fuck—your mouth—" She tilts her head back, hips jerking forward slightly. "Suck me, please—"
You open your mouth and take the head of her cock inside, swirling your tongue around it.
Natasha groans loudly, her hands threading through your hair to hold you in place.
You start to bob your head, taking more of her length into your mouth with each movement.
"Fuck yes—" she hisses, her hips starting to rock gently, fucking your mouth slowly. "So good—baby, you're so good at this—" She looks down at you, green eyes dark with lust and affection.
You take her deeper, relaxing your throat to take more of her. Natasha's head falls back against the door with a loud thud, her hips moving a bit faster now, not fucking your face but definitely using your mouth.
"Fuck—your mouth is incredible—" She pulls you closer by the hair, not forcing you but guiding you onto her cock. "Take it deeper—yes—just like that—"
Pre-cum hits your tongue regularly now, telling you how turned on she is.
She watches you through half-lidded eyes, loving the sight of you on your knees before her, taking her so perfectly. Her breathing grows heavier, she thrusts into your mouth slow but deep.
One hand leaves your hair to rest on your cheek.
"Baby... I'm gonna come—" She warns softly, giving you the chance to pull off if you want. Instead, you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, taking her even deeper. "Fuck—" She cries out.
Her body tenses, her hand tightening in your hair as she pumps her hips forward, now fucking your mouth in short, desperate thrusts.
"Right there—oh fuck—baby I'm—" Her warning comes out in gasps as she loses control. With a loud groan, she comes down your throat, hot and thick.
You swallow it all, sucking gently through her orgasm. She leans heavily against the door, breathing hard, one hand still in your hair.
"Fuck—" She whispers, "You're perfect—" Her voice is shaky as she looks down at you, seeing you on your knees before her with a mouth full of her come. She's never felt more attractive, more desired, in her entire life. Her hands pull you up by your hair gently, bringing you to your feet.
"Come here—" She demands softly, kissing you deeply. She can taste herself on your tongue and it drives her crazy. "Turn around—"
You turn around, and Natasha pushes you gently against the wall.
Her hands roam over your body possessively, squeezing your ass before pulling down your pants and underwear in one swift motion.
"I need to fuck you again," she whispers hoarsely in your ear, pressing her hard cock against your bare ass.
"Right now." She kicks your legs apart wider with her foot. "Hands on the wall—" She commands softly but firmly.
You place your hands on the wall, arching your back to present yourself to her.
Natasha groans softly at the sight, running her hands over your ass reverently.
"Fuck—you're so perfect," she murmurs.
She lines up her wet cock with your entrance, pushing in with one deep thrust.
You moan out against the wall, your fingers scraping against the paint as she fills you again.
"Tight—still so tight," she groans, gripping your hips possessively as she starts moving.
She fucks you hard and fast against the wall, one hand moving around to grip your throat gently while the other slaps your ass.
Her hips snap forward desperately, her thick length hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.
"You feel so good—" She whispers harshly against your neck, biting and sucking on the skin there. "You feel so fucking good—" She rolls her hips upwards deliberately, hitting that spot again and again.
You moan loudly, pressing back against her with each thrust.
"Yes—right there—oh my god, right there—" Your fingers claw at the wall, unable to find purchase anywhere. "Don't stop—please don't stop—" Your voice is breaking, your legs shaking beneath you as she hits that spot again and again.
Natasha groans, her hips stuttering. She leans over you, changing the angle slightly so she hits that spot even better. Her thrusts become more powerful, more targeted.
"Fuck—you like this, don't you?" she pants against your ear. "You like when I fuck this spot—" She circles her hips deliberately, making you moan.
Your voice is hoarse and desperate as you cry out her name.
"Natasha—fuck—" Your head falls back against her shoulder, your mouth hanging open as she continues to hit that spot relentlessly. "Natasha, baby—oh my god—"
She groans at the way you say her name, her hands tightening on your throat and hip.
"Keep saying my name like that—"
You repeat her name over and over, your voice breaking with each thrust.
"Natasha—Natasha—please—don't stop—" Your walls start to flutter around her as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge again. "I'm gonna come—" you warn her, your back arching as she pounds into you harder.
Hearing you say you're about to come pushes Natasha over the edge. She slams into you with wild abandon, her voice hoarse as she chants your name.
"Come on my cock—fuck—come for me—" Her hand on your throat tightens possessively as she feels your walls clamp down around her.
"That's it—fuck—that's it—" She presses her face into your neck, biting hard as she continues to thrust through your orgasm "My good girl—my perfect girl—"
You come hard, crying out her name as your body convulses against the wall.
Natasha doesn't stop, fucking you through every wave of your orgasm until you're a shaking, sobbing mess in her arms. Your knees give out, but she's there immediately, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you up.
"I got you—" she whispers against your ear, slowing her thrusts to deep, rolling movements. "I've got you, baby—"
You slump against her, completely spent and trembling. But Natasha isn't done, not even close.
Despite your exhausted state, she keeps moving inside you, her strokes slow and deep now as she chases her own release.
"Can't stop—" she confesses breathlessly, her hips rolling steadily. "You feel too good—you came so pretty—"
Her hand moves from your throat to rub slow circles on your clit.
"One more—just one more with me—" she begs softly, biting your shoulder. "Please?"
The combination of her slow, deep thrusts and the gentle rubbing of your sensitive clit is almost too much to bear.
You whimper and nod, giving her permission to keep going.
"Yes—please—" you whisper, your voice hoarse. "Just—just like that—" You push back against her slightly, encouraging her to keep moving. "Fuck—you feel so good—"
You trail off into a series of broken moans as she continues to fuck you slowly and steadily.
Natasha helps you stumble over to the bed, her cock never leaving your body.
She bends you over, pushing you flat onto your stomach. Her heavy body lays over yours, pinning you to the bed as she continues to move inside you.
This position allows her to go even deeper, her entire length buried in you at a near horizontal angle.
"Fuck—" She groans, her voice strained. "Perfect—" Her hips move slowly, deliberately, each thrust making the bed creak under your combined weight.
You're pressed flat against the mattress, Natasha's weight holding you down completely. She's fucking you slowly and deeply, each thrust making you gasp.
Your hands grab at the sheets, your legs trembling beneath you.
"So deep—" You moan. "Natasha—you're so deep—" She kisses your shoulder softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "You're taking me so perfectly—such a good girl for me—" Her hand slides under you to squeeze your breast possessively.
She continues to fuck you slowly, chasing her release with deep, deliberate thrusts.
The position is incredibly intimate and intense, her body pressed completely against yours as she buries herself inside you over and over.
Her breath is hot against your neck, her teeth occasionally grazing your skin.
"Almost there—" she pants, "I'm almost there—just hold on for me—hold still for me—"
You hold still, feeling every inch of her stretch you open again and again. Your exhausted body is still sensitive from before, and each deep thrust makes you whimper into the mattress.
Natasha's hips stutter, her breath hitching as she gets closer.
"Fuck—fuck—yes—" She buries herself as deep as possible, grinding into you when she comes with a low groan. "Baby—" Her whole body shudders on top of you, her cock pulsing inside you as she fills you up again.
She stays buried inside you for a long moment, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Her arms wrap around you possessively, holding you down as she catches her breath.
Slowly, she starts to move again, gentle rocking motions this time, not seeking another release but just enjoying the feeling of being connected to you.
Her body is relaxed on top of yours, her curves pressing into your back gently.
"My love—" She murmurs softly, kissing your back and shoulders tenderly. "My beautiful love—" Her hands roam over your body possessively but gently.
Your hands reach up blindly, searching for hers. When your fingers touch, you lace them together, intertwining like you were always meant to fit that way.
Natasha's forehead presses into your shoulder blade deeply, as if she needs the contact to ground herself.
Months of wanting you, craving you, waiting for this moment of intimacy finally release from her body. Her shoulders shake slightly, not from crying but from the sheer relief of it all.
"I thought I'd never have this..."
You squeeze her hands gently, knowing exactly what she means. All those stolen glances, the accidental touches, the flirtatious banter that neither of you could help, it all led to this moment of connection.
She's still moving slowly inside you, but it's more about being close than seeking pleasure now. Her body is completely relaxed on top of yours, her breasts pressing into your back.
"Me neither," you whisper back, "I never thought we'd actually cross this line."
She presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade, her hips slowing to a stop but not pulling out.
"I was so scared of scaring you off," she admits quietly, her voice vulnerable in a way you've never heard before."Wanted you for so long—but you're worth the wait." Her fingers tighten around yours, lacing your connection tighter. "Worth everything."
You turn your head slightly to look back at her, even though you can barely see her face from this angle.
"You never could have scared me off," you tell her truthfully. "All those little touches, the way you'd look at me across the room... I wanted you too. I was just waiting for you to make the first move."
Natasha makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, pressing her face more firmly into your shoulder. "God, I'm so in love with you."
Her words hang in the air between you, honest and raw.
There's no way back now.
Your heart swells at her confession, and you shift slightly beneath her to say back.
"I love you too," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "So much it terrifies me."
Natasha lets out a shaky breath, her whole body relaxing even more against yours. She doesn't pull out. She doesn't want to.
You're still connected in every way possible and neither of you moves to change that.
WARNINGS: RE4r Ada, post-Spain, parentified daughter r, researcher r, morally gray r, mommy issues, psychological drama, oldest daughter core r and because this piece speaks to me since I'm the eldest daughter of the Asian household–this is self-indulgent oops, emotional neglect, workaholic, unhealthy coping, power play, unethical sciences oops, soft dom Ada, emotional manipulation, possessive Ada, unprotected sex, soft to rough sex, raw sex, biting, marking, marathon sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation and that's about it, I think.
SYNOPSIS: Your mother shaped you into the perfect scientist–brilliant, disciplined, and drowning in her legacy. Even in death, her voice haunts you. Then came Ada Wong. A deal. A distraction. A mistake. Now, she watches you unravel, unwilling to let you go. After all, everything must be taken care of.
MEN, MINORS DNI
"Everything must be taken care of, before you have any respite."
Heavy are the words of your mother–a renowned biomedical scientist in her time before she met her unfortunate end in Raccoon City.
Your mother took you to work with her at a young age, showing you the ins and outs of the lab, her research, her progress, and her data the moment you were finally capable of comprehension. She made you take STEM as a pre-med course, specifically biochemical engineering. With her name known across the world, you were given a full ride to a scholarship at the most prestigious universities in the city.
It didn't take long for your peers and mentors to realize you have the same talent and intelligence as your mother.
It felt empowering, of course.
You were saving lives, just like your mother, and the talent too!
Indeed, saving lives at the expense of ruining your own.
What a passionate way to die.
The world suddenly fell on your shoulders when the news of your mother not making it during the infamous Raccoon City incident made it to you–just days after you finished your internship with one of her trusted colleagues as your mentor–and her attorney informed you that she had left all of her assets in your care.
That includes her unfinished research manuscript, her lab notes, medical journals, and unorganized data.
Oh, what do you do?
Your knees wobbled as you set foot into her office, where most of her things were moved with the help of the family attorney and her trusted friends. Your thoughts raced, causing your forehead to heat up as you force yourself to go through her things just to know where to start–how to start.
Your mother was overly critical of you–she had a reputation to keep. Low grades and a bad track record were a sign of failure in her eyes, and in return, she'd lecture and vent to you about her frustrations in the lab.
Oh, you're having a difficult time at a single subject? What more if you're finally in my shoes, hm?
Tired? Ridiculous! Everything must be accounted for–must be taken care of, even if it meant dragging your body to work.
Even if it meant dragging your body to work.
Her reminders loom over you like a suffocating ghost. Before you can even grieve her passing–you threw yourself to work, just like your mother did; refining vaccines, studying new virus samples (those that your hired men can acquire), and testing for results.
But instead of the empowerment that surged in you before–it feels empty. The achievement that you longed for felt nothing like a chore–and your mother's praises are faint–mixing with the practiced awe of your investors and fellow scientists.
Most of your work proved effective against the virus—so much so that it became highly sought after by the government and private companies alike.
And a few questionable individuals too.
That includes a mercenary who disguised herself as one of the interns in your lab. You caught her scanning a copy of your research for the cure and possible enhancement of the G-virus.
You put her in for questioning–and instead of throwing her to the authorities, you made a transactional relationship with her; you'd pay her to take samples of the virus from her different missions and make a cure, in return, she'd get double the money from different employers.
At first, it was simple. Cold. Uncomplicated.
Ada delivered the virus samples, you worked on the cure, and both of you pretended it was just another business arrangement.
It worked—until it didn’t.
Somewhere along the line, the conversations became longer. The silences became heavier. She started sticking around after a job was done, lingering in the dim glow of your lab, watching you work like she had something else to say but never did.
You ignored it.
She never pried, never asked why you threw yourself into your work the way you did. But the way she watched you—like she saw straight through the walls you built—was unsettling.
You should have known better.
Because when the time came—when she had to choose between you and the people who paid her—she chose you.
That was the first time you realized that, despite everything, you weren’t the only one losing themselves in this arrangement.
And that changed everything.
A small smile graces your lips as a message from Ada glares from your screen.
I'm on my way back with the Amber.
Excellent.
"I'm sure Wesker was less than pleased when you change coarse with the Amber." You mused, days after Ada came back with the said item. The older girl's lips morph to a faint smile as she stands next to you, her arms crossed against her firm chest.
"Wesker has a lot of resources," She turns her head in your direction and tilts her head to the side, "I'm sure he can get new samples elsewhere."
You hum as you examine the stone, "Exquisite," You tear your eyes from the Amber and look at Ada. "Thank you."
"My pleasure, doll." The short-haired woman smirks, "I'll leave you to your work–I know you hate being delayed."
"You know me too well," Your tone cool as Ada leaves the room. On cue, your lips flatten into a line as the mirth swims away from your eyes, becoming dull–empty.
Wonderful. Another chore.
In you're need to start planning your next steps, you fail to notice Ada–who is standing at the entrance of your study–eyes carefully studying your change of expression before walking down the halls of the facility.
Without wasting time–you and your team of proficient biomedical scientist began brainstorming the stone–conducting tests among tests and recording your findings without fail–the Amber held so much potential: a superior form of the Plaga. It didn't take a while for it to become the center of your focus, eating and sleeping became an option–you have so much to work with.
Ada has been observing you, the way your food comes back untouched, your sleep patterns–heck, she even woke up with you not beside her.
And if Ada didn't know any better–have you gotten thinner?
Her brows pinch together–and just as it quickly came, it disappeared.
You tell your team to rest–but you can't apply the same to yourself.
Everything must be taken care of, before you have any respite.
With heavy eyes and a blank face, you type away new data recorded from today's findings. Your wrist feels numb, and your body weighed like lead as your eyes shift from one screen to the next.
Then a familiar, feminine, velvety voice fills your cold, sterile lab.
"It's 4:37 AM,"
Automatically, your brows arch and you swivel your chair to the owner of the voice. There stood Ada, wearing a white-button up shirt and beige tapered trousers.
"And?" You mused.
"You're supposed to be sleeping next to me."
Your eyes scan her outfit, "What an odd set of pajamas." You comment with a small smile. A hum reverberates form Ada's chest, her eyes smoothly move to your desk.
"And I see that you didn't touch your food. Again." Her eyes narrow as she takes slow, measured steps towards you. Pink blossoms in your cheeks–nothing extravagant—just a simple meal. You don’t need to ask who left it.
"You're making a habit of watching me, Ada." You mutter, looking away from the older woman. She smirks, using one hand to grasp your chin, coaxing you to look at her.
"Hard not to when you're wasting away."
"I have work..." You trailed off as her expression sharpens–stern.
"And you'll be no use to anyone if you collapse." She lets go of your jaw and takes the fork, stabbing the meat with it before handing it to you. "Eat, doll."
You blink at her, "But–"
She raises a brow.
The air between you hums with tension, silent yet deafening. Ada doesn't waver, her hand steady as she holds out the fork. You recognize the challenge in her gaze—one she doesn’t need to voice. You could ignore her. Dismiss her with a sharp remark and go back to your research. That’s what you would have done before.
But the weight of her stare is different this time.
Reluctantly, you take the fork from her fingers, avoiding her gaze as you take one bite. Then another. The taste is nothing special, but the way Ada leans against the desk, arms crossed, watching you with quiet satisfaction–it was almost irritating.
"Happy?"
The former smirks, but there's a mellow gleam in her eyes. "Ecstatic."
She doesn’t push you to eat more. Doesn’t hover or pry. Just lets you go at your own pace before pushing off the desk.
"Sleep after you're done eating."
A scoff leaves your lips. "I have work to do."
Ada tilts her head, studying you with something unreadable. "Right. Of course you do."
She turns, walking toward the exit—but pauses at the doorway. Over her shoulder, she adds, "Don’t make me force you."
And then she’s gone.
Days pass. Weeks.
Ada watches. She doesn’t hover, doesn’t nag—but she sees everything.
The untouched meals. The way your hands shake slightly when you reach for a pen. The increasing number of empty coffee cups cluttering your desk. The dark circles under your eyes, like shadows carved into your skin.
You're burning out, and you don’t even notice.
Ada does.
She notices when your fingers tremble as you type. When you blink a second too long, as if fighting the urge to collapse on the spot. She notices when you stand too fast, your vision tilting, and you grip the edge of the desk just to steady yourself.
And then, one night, it happens.
You don’t remember falling—only the sharp sensation of your knees hitting the floor, the rush of dizziness swallowing you whole. A sound escapes your lips, something between a gasp and a curse, but before your body can fully crumple—
Ada is there.
Lithe arms catch you before you hit the cold tile. A firm grip steadies you and through the haze clouding your vision, you hear her voice, lower than usual.
"That's enough."
Your head is spinning. You don’t fight when Ada pulls you up, guiding you towards the couch in the corner of your study. You’re not sure when she sat down, only that you’re suddenly leaning against her, the warmth of her presence pressing into your side.
You hate how comforting it feels.
"You’re overworking yourself," Ada states, voice unreadable.
You huff, though it lacks bite. "That’s nothing new."
Ada is silent for a moment, then:
"This isn’t just about the research, is it?"
Your breath catches.
She’s too close. Not physically—though, yes, she is—but she’s too close to seeing through you. Through the carefully constructed walls, through the weight of your mother’s expectations still coiled around your throat like a noose.
Ada exhales, her voice softer than before. "You can’t outrun her."
Your fingers clench into the fabric of your sleeves. You don't answer.
Ada doesn't push.
She simply sits there, allowing the silence to settle—offering her presence without demand. Without pressure.
Ada doesn't move for a while. Neither do you.
The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. You can feel her presence—steady, unmoving—like a quiet force refusing to let you spiral any further.
You close your eyes for just a second. Just a second.
And then—
You wake up.
The dim glow of your study lamps is gone, replaced by the soft flicker of the emergency lights. The air is still. Quiet. The weight against your back is warm, solid—Ada.
You realize with slow clarity that you’ve fallen asleep against her.
Your mind is sluggish, torn between the rare, unfamiliar comfort of rest and the immediate need to get back to work. You shift slightly, only for Ada’s arm—wrapped loosely around your waist—to tighten.
"Don’t even think about it."
Her voice is smooth, carrying no room for argument. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her—eyes closed, looking impossibly at ease, as if she had all the time in the world.
"How long was I out?" you murmur.
Ada hums, opening one eye. "Longer than you usually allow yourself. Not long enough."
A flicker of annoyance sparks in your chest. "I don’t have time for—"
Ada clicks her tongue, and suddenly, she’s shifting—her arm unwinding from you as she gracefully rises to her feet. The warmth you didn’t realize you were clinging to vanishes.
Fine. If she’s going to leave, that’s—
Your thoughts halt when Ada leans down, placing her hands on the couch—caging you in.
"You’re coming with me," she says, voice smooth as silk but carrying an edge that dares you to refuse.
Your brows furrow. "Excuse me?"
Ada tilts her head, smirking slightly. "You heard me."
She grabs your wrist—not tightly, but firmly—and pulls you up before you can protest. Your legs, still weak from exhaustion, stumble slightly, and Ada steadies you without effort.
"Ada—"
"You need air," she interrupts, her tone final. "A break. And before you start whining about time, I already handled the lab reports for the night. Your little research team will survive without you for a few hours."
You blink. "You—what?"
Ada smirks, guiding you toward the door. "I have my ways."
You stare at her, skepticism laced with something else—something almost like reluctant gratitude.
Ada catches it. Of course she does.
She simply tilts her head toward the exit. "Let’s go, doll."
For once, you don’t fight her.
The low hum of the car engine is the only sound between you. The city lights flicker past, painting streaks of gold and red across the tinted windows.
Ada drives without hurry, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift. She hasn’t said much since she pulled you out of the lab, but she doesn’t need to.
You exhale, leaning against the cool glass. "Where are we going?"
Ada glances at you from the corner of her eye, smirking. "Somewhere you can’t escape from."
Your lips twitch. "That so?"
"Mm." She shifts gears smoothly. "You need rest. I’m making sure you get it."
You huff, but there’s no real bite behind it. Maybe a part of you is too tired to fight.
Or maybe a part of you wants to be taken care of for once.
The night air is cool against your skin, but the warmth pressed against your back is unmistakable. Ada.
You don’t remember how she convinced you to stop working for the night, or how you ended up lying in bed with her, tangled in soft sheets. All you know is that her arms are around you, one resting against your stomach, the other tucked under the pillow you share.
Her breath fans against your neck—slow, steady. Unlike you, she seems completely at ease.
You shift slightly, and Ada’s hold tightens just enough to keep you from slipping away.
"You’re still tense," she murmurs, voice low, husky from the quiet.
You scoff. "Habit."
"Bad one," Ada counters, her lips barely brushing your shoulder. "I can think of better ways to relieve stress."
Her fingers trail down your arm, featherlight, before slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Your breath catches as her fingertips graze your skin, drawing slow, deliberate patterns along your waist.
"Ada—"
"Hm?" Her tone is innocent, but the way her nails drag lightly against your skin is anything but.
You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch the mischievous glint in her eyes.
"You planned this," you accuse.
Ada smirks. "Would you have stopped me if I did?"
You hate how easily she gets under your skin—how the warmth of her touch makes your body betray you.
The way her lips graze the curve of your jaw—soft, teasing—before she bites down just enough to make you shiver.
You don’t answer.
You don’t need to.
Because when Ada shifts, rolling you onto your back, and pins you beneath her with that knowing smirk—you’re already hers for the night.
Your breath hitches as Ada's hips press flush against you, clothes strewn across the floor . Her fingers dance along your torso, grazing your ribs, the. lower; teasing.
"You're so tense," She murmurs, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Let me fix that."
She shifts, her grip firm as she tilts your hips just enough for her to roll against you, slow, deliberate. Heat coils low in your stomach, and you barely suppress a gasp as her cock rubs snuggly against your walls. Your lover chuckles, voice rich in amusement. "See? You don't have to do anything, doll. Just let me do the work."
Your body betrays you, instinctively meeting her hips, craving more.
"That's my girl," She whispers, her voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. Her hands tightens on your hips, and you fele her smirk against your skin.
"Let's see just how much you can take."
She guides your hips, both of you gasping as her pace is agonizingly slow. The tension pulls taut. Deliberate, controlled, taking her time as she fucks you, her movements slow and deep.
Each movement makes pleasure coil tighter and tighter in your core, and Ada knows it. She watches you unravel beneath her, eyes locked on your every reaction. "You love this, don't you?" She taunts, rolling her hips just right, pulling a broken moan from your lips. "Being under me like this, being taken."
Your body trembles, eyes rolling back as your hands grip at her back, nails scratching along her skin as the pleasure builds to unbearable levels.
"Baby–please," You whimper, desperate, your body arching into hers.
The older girl chuckles, her hands sliding up your thighs, gripping your waist as she picks up the pace, thrusting into you with more force, driving deeper. The cacophony of your moans and her groans mixes with the creaks and whines of the bed.
"Say it," She demands, lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me you're mine."
"Yours," You gasp, barely able to breathe. "I'm yours, Ada."
She groans, her rhythm turning rougher, faster, chasing her own release as she takes you apart, the veins on the ridges of her cock rubbing deliciously against your walls while the tip kisses your cervix, eliciting a yelp from you. Pleasure crashes over you, your entire body tensing, and Ada drives into you, pushing you past your limit–until you're crying out her name, clinging to her as waves of euphoria pulse through you.
Ada follows soon after, burying herself deep, her own release hitting as she moans against your throat, her fingers digging into your hips, holding you still as ropes of cum floods your walls, some even oozing out of your folds and down to the sheets. She watches the way you tremble, her smirk returns as she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your lips.
"Good girl,"
And just like that, you knew–she isn't done with you yet.
Your body trembles, broken moans and whimpers leave your lips, legs weak and spread open, slick with heat and sweat. She's still inside you, half-hard, twitching against your walls. Your cry out, nails dragging down her back, feeling the way she stretches you all over again, this time with less restraint.
"That's it," She moans lowly, thrusting her hips until there's nowhere left to go. "Take all of me, pretty girl. Just like before."
The ecstasy is almost too much–your pussy still sensitive from the first round but Ada doesn't slow down.
Plap, plap, plap, plap!
The bed creaks, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, and all you can do is cling to her, let her take everything she wants from you. "Mine," She breathes into your ear, her voice dripping with possession.
Your moans swallowed by her kisses as she pounds into you, pushing you higher and higher towards your breaking point. "You'll take everything I give you." Ada growls, gripping your hips, holding you still as she pistons her hips even deeper.
Then, you feel it–the heat, the pressure, the way she stiffens inside you.
Your lover groans, burying herself to the hilt, filling you with viscous ropes of semen, her balls tighten as it slaps against your ass. She stays like that, breathing heavily, enjoying the way your body shudders beneath her, taking everything she has to give.
"Y-you didn't even pull out." You blink at her, dazed, breath ragged.
A cold smile graces Ada's lips. Unapologetic.
"Of course not," She murmurs, dragging her fingers down your stomach, pressing lightly over your womb. "Why would I? You look good like this." She leans down, nipping at your bottom lip, her hands still possessively tracing your lips, before she moves her hips again, rubbing against your puffy folds.
"A-Ada–wait, I-I can't–" You gasp, trying to pry her hips away, but her hands grip your thighs, keeping them spread.
"Oh, baby–I'm not yet down with you."
Her hips press forward, the tip kissing the spongey spot of your walls, making you see stars–your back arches.
"You can take more," She murmurs, kissing down your neck, her hands roaming around your body possessively. "You will take more."
Before you can protest, her knees plant firmly against the sheets as she plows into you, deeper, harder.
Stretching, filling.
Broken moans leave from your lips as your back arches–another choked cry escaping your lips. She's bigger, harder this time–more desperate, more demanding as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall.
"You feel that?" Ada groans, jutting her hips, stealing another moan from you.
"Still so tight–still squeezing me like you don't want to leave."
You whimper, your body is too sensitive, too overwhelmed–Ada doesn't stop. She sets a relentless pace, her thrust deep, hard and void of mercy.
"Look at you, so fucked-out already. But you'll take everything I give you, won't you?" She breathes, watching your eyes lose and your lips open.
So helpless.
"You're mine, inside and out."
Your moans turn into whimpers, gasps, pleas—but it only fuels her more. Ada is insatiable, unrelenting, making you take her over and over again, until you’re nothing but a shaking, overstimulated mess beneath her.
She guides your legs around her hips, pulling out.
A whine leaves your lips before it morphs into a filthy moan with another sharp thrust into your cunt, another nasty squelch echoing into the air–sex and perfume wafts in the room. She slumps against you, pressing her soft chest against your sensitive ones, moving her lips purposefully to the crown of your ear and tugging a bit of your skin in between her teeth.
Your body was hot against hers. Your walls throb deliciously throb around her. Ada's eyes flutter close before she sinks her teeth into your skin.
"A-Ada–fuck!" You sob as she angles precisely into you.
"Nghh–I know, doll." Ada throws her head back, relishing the obscene sound of flesh against flesh.
Plap, plap, plap!
Oh, it's a sound you and Ada never get tired of.
You've already lost your mind beneath her–fucking you to a state of overstimulation, being bred full of her semen.
"You look so beautiful," Ada huffs as she jogs her hips, her pace is shallow to the point that she isn't pulling out anymore.
She grabs the headboard, fucking you into the sheets. The older woman grits her teeth, your mixed fluids being fucked out of your beaten walls, making a mess beneath your legs. Her balls slap against the curve of your ass, heavy with potent seed.
"Mghmm, cumming." Your lover whines, "Cum on my cock, doll–nghh, I want to feel you."
Your eyes roll back again as a strong gush of fluid exits your pussy, coating Ada's cock and her balls. Ada groans, nuzzling her cock into you as she fucks you into overstimulation before she finally stills her hips, shooting ribbons of her seed in you, painting your walls warm and white.
Your mixed essence oozes out, your mind filled with cotton and your body is heavy while Ada looks energized, watching your blissed out state.
"Once I know you're pregnant–I'm putting you on maternity leave." She murmurs.
it’s late in the compound. wanda comes home after a long day of exhausting missions. she’s frustrated, and in need of something to let out her energy and anger on. she does it with you, but with such tenderness.
ʚ・ tags and warnings — mommy!wanda x fem!reader :
mostly smut, slight fluff, stress relief, wanda slightly angry, soft wanda, dirty talk, overstimulation, light choking, wanda called mommy, reader called dove, angel, princess, some aftercare
ʚ・ author’s note — first fic on here. please enjoy, feedback appreciated. i’m quite interested in doing a lot more fluffy/angsty stuff… lmkk !!
your hips buck, twitching erratically. your fingers dig into your sheets in a desperate attempt to anchor. you press your knuckles to your lips, letting sound die before it could even slip past you. your legs tremble from exhaustion, from pure pleasure.
her head bobs between your thighs in a delicious rhythm. a forgotten movie murmured in the background, dialogue and static blurring the edges of everything else. swallowing anything—any whimper, any moan that might escape.
it was late. far past lights out at the compound.
she wasn’t supposed to be here.
not between your legs—not again.
“wanda,” you gasp as she catches one of your slick folds between her lips and sucks. her thumb presses against your clit, rubbing furious circles and only heightening your pleasure.
her rough fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place. “shh, dove. i told you to stay quiet.” she mouths against your bare heat. “mommy’s had a very long day.” her voice is low, almost impatient. like she’s trying to suppress the urge to force you down and take you until you’re screaming.
because her movements aren’t gentle—not like they usually are. they’re fueled by some intense heat. you remember is her coming home: eyes focused and low. blood staining her knuckles, from her mission earlier. she didn’t say much about it, didn’t even let herself think much before she was pinning you to the wall.
“breathe, honey. relax for me. let me use this pretty pussy, hm? you taste… heavenly, baby. so sweet for me.” she coos, licking from the base of your most sensitive area to the nub.
“now, quiet. you don’t want a punishment.”
you clench and tighten around an unbearable absence, trying with everything you had to hold back even the smallest wince.
your jaw locks in an effort. tight. but it’s still not enough. she plunges her tongue inside of you: suddenly. it’s overwhelming, in the best way, and so unfair. a scream—louder than any other of the pathetic noises from before—tears through you.
when you look down, eyes wide, please already breaking into a whisper, you see it. her expression isn’t tender anymore. its anger. frustration that had built up throughout the day. and god, she would use you to forget it all.
she’s moving before your head even stops spinning.
her hand trails up your skin until it catches your throat. wrapping around it, so sweetly. her thumb brushes against your pulse. not tight enough to struggle; not ever. but just enough for you to be conscious of every breath you take.
“mommy—” you try. “no, baby. no ‘mommy.’ what did i tell you, hm?” she interrupts. her grip on your throat loosens enough for you to comfortably reply.
your eyes avoid hers, shoulders sinking from sheer embarrassment. she tilts up your chin and you respond, “… to be quiet.”
“that’s right. and you disobeyed.”
yet, the smallest curve still tugs at her lips. “look at that pretty face. flushes even at the smallest correction.” she chuckles, then sighs deeply.
“let me see those eyes baby. look at me.” she hums. and you do, immediately. as your eyes lock on hers, you feel the tips of her two fingers glide across your pussy. your already wet folds peel apart at the smallest movement and she smirks, slowly pressing into your warmth.
your face contorts into one of bliss as her fingers curl into your slit. you buck your hips at the feeling, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream.
“you’re going to keep those eyes on me as i fuck you. and you’re not going to look away until i say you’re allowed to.” she whispers.
two fingers plunge into your tightness. you gasp as she curls them inside of you. “mmh, princess… look at this beautiful pussy.” she sighs.
“you don’t know how badly i’ve been needing to see you ruined again.”
her lips latch onto your neck. her kisses are hot, open-mouthed, and all teeth. her arm suddenly jolts out, scarlet threads curling around her fingers, drawing something out. the drawer of the nightstand beside you flies open, and a strap floats to her hand.
a deep red dildo, thick, and bigger than what she usually used on you. your breath come out a little heavier at the thought of it stretching you out.
she slide the harness on, securing it around her waist. one hand slid under your thigh, holding it up and pinning it in place. the other braced herself beside your head.
you barely had time to think before she was pushing into you. your breath hitched, fingers holding onto the bedsheets beneath you. wanda moaned slowly, “that’s right, detka. clench around me.”
small whimpers escape you. your hands find her, wrapping around her neck. your nails dig into her spine, leaving delicate indents. “fuck—fuck, too much. god, you’re—stretching me…”
“too much?” she asks, already slowing down. you only yelp at that. “no—no. i need more. just, just don’t stop.” you exhale.
her hips start up again, rolling into you and letting you feel every bit of it. she grinds the base of it inside you. every little whisper, every thrust, and every breath brings you closer to your edge.
she notices. of course she does.
the way your breath hitches.
the way you hold on tighter, clenching.
the way you moan—higher pitched than before.
“give it to me. come on,” she moves faster. you feel her chasing her own release.
her arms wrap fully around your waist, firmly holding you. allowing you to go limp, to simply be held. she’s thrusting into you faster now, groaning in your ear. mumbling curses, half in english and half in sokovian. her accent so heavy she can hardly even understand herself.
“god. you’re so fucking tight,” she grunts. her head falls onto your shoulder, hips roughly fucking into your pussy.
you feel tears collect in the corner of your eyes. it isn’t uncomfortable—not even in the slightest. it’s all you could ever dream of. it’s overstimulation, in the best way you could’ve ever imagined.
her forehead presses against yours. red wisps flicker, and she reads you. every thought, every craving you have right now. watching, protecting, as always.
she knows just how much you want this.
it empowers her to moves faster, kissing your cheek in a way that still manages to make your stomach flutter.
“that’s my girl. so perfect for me. letting me use this sweet pussy,” she whispers. her hips grind.
your climax hits in waves, the first stronger than the rest. stars fog your vision, body twitching under her. you dig your nails into her back, and she only responds by holding you tighter, fucking you through your orgasm.
“that’s right… my pretty girl… doing so good for me.”
you pant heavily, sweat beading down your forehead. her movements are slower now, but somehow feel so much more intense. you’re so much more sensitive now.
she’s riding you through it, and prolonging your release.
she hits her own climax just like that.
knowing you’re taken care of.
seeing the way you whimper for her. under her.
her hips buck into you, her strap filling you. she moans in your ear, soft curses and praises.
“that’s my girl. my sweet little girl.” she pants, kissing the top of your head and slowly pulling out. you curl against her, comforted in her embrace.
the rest of the night is a blur.
her rough hands bringing a damp towel to your thighs, wiping away the stickiness and cleaning you off. handing you a glass of water, cuddling you when she was all done.
raking her fingers through your hair, whispering praises into your ear. telling you just how beautiful you looked, and how good you were.
“you did so good for me, baby. my perfect angel.” she whispers, pressing little pecks to your cheeks. your eyelids flutter shut, heavy from exhaustion. she smiles at that. “get some sleep, honey. i’ll be here in the morning.” she assures you.
note: its new years here so iguess this is my christmas and new years gift (first smut of the year WE R UPPPPPPPPPP) to you guys and im drunk so i wrote this, soryr if its messy and grammarly incorrect this is for @pluto0oo0 and @ieatmoss22 and @cherry-coffees
tw; knight!vi eating you out
the tension between the two of you is palpable. you two are so on edge with each other that anyone in the room could immediately notice how uncomfortable, angry, or attracted you are.
but who’d allow a princess and her own knight to be together? that is simply impossible.
“my dearest daughter,” your father greets you lovingly while eating, along with your mother, who gives him a knowing look, “are you, perhaps, interested in your knight?”
you almost spit out your wine when those words reach your ears, “pardon?”
“we are not blind, you know? we see, we sense, we feel what you two are longing for,” your mother backs your father up. “as long as you’re happy.”
that simple sentence eases your entire being. you were about to doubt them when you saw them give you warm, gentle smiles, your mother smirking a bit.
“you’re not very subtle; i saw you gawking at her back when she was training in the courtyard, you were practically drooling, my daughter.”
“young love,” your father mutters under his breath, looking at your mother with such tender eyes that you would think they just fell in love yesterday.
you slam your palms on the dining table, startling the figures, “that is simply an abomination. i am leaving.”
“be careful, sweetie.”
those were the words you heard when you rounded the castle walls, groaning underneath your breath at their childish behaviour.
groaning even more when you see the subject of the matter already standing beside your room, eyes straight ahead, hands on top of her sword’s pommel.
and just like that, all your irritations, frustrations, and anger— go away.
vi licks her drying lips, seeing you just standing there, looking at her, “is there something bothering you, princess?”
“guard my door.”
you strut past her, your nimble fingers already working the knots of your front-laced corset, frustrations coursing through your veins.
once more, you don’t bother closing your door, throwing yourself on the bed as violet floods your brain, buffering your thought process.
you have been letting your wetness seep through your underwear all day, all because you caught a glimpse of her back— that glorious, magnificent, broad tattooed back. who can blame you for basically frothing at the mouth because of that? you’re like an omega whose heat got triggered early.
the dress and corset you’re wearing end up on the floor as your hand spends no time travelling down to your slicked cunt, desperate to be touched. your middle finger finally makes contact with your needy clit; a shudder racking your body in the process, and just a whisper of your knight’s name escapes your lips.
outside the door was the said knight, she wasn’t faring the best, the moment her ear caught the whisper of her name.
she was so close to giving in to her needs and desires, but respect bound her feet to the floor.
“violet…”
respect be damned.
violet quietly slips into your room, scarred lips parting slightly as she takes in the sight of you; legs spread, undergarments hanging off one limb, a hand poorly stifling your noises.
you look like a dream to her.
you look like a goddess to her.
the type of goddess one worships with their whole heart and mind, the type of goddess one would gladly and willingly drop to her knees to worship every skin, every stretch mark, every mole— everything.
and before she knows it, the ball of your foot meets with her chestplate, snapping her out of her trance.
“what do you think you are doing, violet?” your cold voice cuts through your bedroom, “barging into a princess’ quarters?”
violet’s gloved hand wraps around your ankle, wordlessly pulling you to the edge of the bed, and making you rest your leg on her shoulder, “oh, my beautiful princess.”
your hand darts down to push at her face, but she counters by pinning it to your stomach, dilated eyes focused on your wet, twitching pussy.
you’re really not complaining when you throw your head back against your bed, a low moan bubbling in your throat when she begins to press soft kisses into the inside of your thigh. you’re really not complaining when her other hand presses on your soft thigh— digging into it.
you’re not uttering a single word opposing her actions.
not when she’s inhaling your scent, basking in your whole being.
and when she finally presses her flattened tongue on your awaiting cunt? that made you sit up right, pulling her in further by her nape, fingers scratching her; resulting in a hiss into your pussy.
you groan into her hair, “strip yourself of your armor.” violet shakes her head, her tongue swiping side to side in the process— your eyes flutter close, “such a bullheaded knight.”
violet is relentlessly attacking your cunt, slobbering it all up like she’s been starved for years, pulling you impeccibly close, if that was even possible.
your murmurs of slowdowns fall deaf to her ears, continuing her administrations given that she’s waited her entire fucking life for this.
violet’s decided that she’s waited long enough.
“tastes so good—”
your palm covers her mouth in an instant, embarrassment evident on your face when you feel your own mess, “do you really have to say that?”
“...do i need permission to do that, princess?”
“take off your armor.”
an animalistic growl emits from her as she forces your hand to your bed once again, diving into your cunt.
she pushes you on your back and hauls your bottom up rather easily, your fingers grip your sheets in surprise as she devours you. the strength this woman possesses.
“wait—” your eyes roll backwards at the newly found position, the lower part of your body losing its strength as you feel her roll your clit using her tongue, “just slow down—”
there is absolutely no way you’re going to cum by being eaten out. there is absolutely no way.
erm… on the contrary, despite your efforts against her persistent tongue, which made your eyes roll numerous times, which made your toes curl in never-ending pleasure, which made you whimper like a pathetic woman who hasn’t had sex in centuries, you’re falling apart.
how could you when her fingers are digging into your skin to keep you latched onto her mouth like a leech looking for blood? god, the sight of your abdomen flexing spurs the knight on.
with your head thrown back, neck muscles straining as you silently cum on her tongue, you turn slack, making her worry.
“Princess?” violet slowly lets your legs come down, crawling to you, peppering messy wet kisses on your spent body, “are you alright, your highness?”
cw: smut; sevika is helping reader to be vocal, silent reader (at first), vaginal fingering, oral sex, pillow talk, aftercare, gentle sevika
words: 3.2k
—Let me hear you.
That’s something Sevika noticed right from the beginning. How quiet you always got whenever things turned heated.
The stolen kisses in dark corners, the make-out sessions that ended with swollen lips and quick goodbyes.
You never made much of a sound. A sigh here, maybe the faintest whimper there, but never anything more.
She never said a word about it. Not when the furthest you’d ever gone was kissing.
But now you’re in her bedroom, lying on her sheets that smell faintly of smoke and steel, her heavy frame crowding you against the headboard, both in your underwear.
The two of you are kissing like you’ve been starving for it; messy, hungry, saliva shared between lips that can’t get enough.
Her hand is cupping your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheekbone, while her other slides down your side in a slow, claiming stroke.
You know exactly where it’s leading. So does she.
Her palm settles low at your waist, the weight of it making you shiver. She lingers there, waiting.
Waiting for something; your breath to hitch, a moan, a sound, even a word or a nod, anything that tells her you’re ready for more.
But she hears nothing.
Sevika pulls back just enough to search your face, breaking the kiss. Her lips are slick, her voice rough when she murmurs, “You okay?”
The question hits you like a splash of cold water, pulling you out of the haze of heat.
Your lashes flutter, eyes wide as you blink up at her, your cheeks burning red.
At first, your lips part, but no words come out at first. Just a rush of air you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
“Y-yeah,” you manage, cheeks hot, voice barely above a whisper as you nod slightly. “I’m okay.”
Her eyes soften, even with that dark heat burning in them.
She leans in, pressing her forehead against yours for a second, grounding you before her mouth brushes the corner of your lips.
“Good,” she rasps, her breath hot on your skin. “Then let me hear you.”
The words sink into you at the same time her hand dips lower, sliding beneath the waistband of your panties.
You gasp against her lips, and you’re glad Sevika swallows the sound with a hungry kiss, her metal arm now braced against the headboard while her other hand finds the heat between your thighs.
She’s careful, slow at first.
Fingers teasing along sensitive skin, circling without giving in too soon. Her mouth trails down to your neck, kissing rough and open-mouthed, like she’s been waiting forever to taste you here.
You tilt your head instinctively, granting her access, and her tongue flicks against your pulse point in a way that makes your stomach twist.
Her fingers slide lower, parting your lips with an ease that makes your thighs tense around her wrist. The wet sound of it fills the room, obscene in the quiet, but still, you don’t make a sound.
Instead, you’re biting your lip, holding back with every ragged, too-controlled breath. Each exhale is shaky, pulled through your nose, like you’re afraid of what might come out if you just let go.
Sevika notices. Of course she does.
Her hips roll against yours in slow, deliberate rhythm, teasing you with the press of her heat as her fingers circle exactly where you need her.
She wonders at your silence, at the way your body reacts so vividly while your voice refuses to follow.
For now, she doesn’t call it out. She lets her hand do the talking, coaxing, testing, pushing you closer; waiting to see how long you’ll hold it in.
But Sevika can feel it, clear as day.
The way your body is trembling against her, the heat soaking her fingers, the arch of your hips begging for more.
Yet your mouth stays stubbornly shut.
Every breath you take is caged, dragged too carefully through your nose.
Her lips keeps kissing your throat, teeth grazing over your jaw before she pulls back enough to look at you again. Her hand doesn’t stop moving; steady, relentless on your clit.
Her voice is low, roughened with hunger but edged with command when she murmurs, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The question makes your breath stutter. You can only nod, biting down harder on your lip.
Not enough.
Sevika’s eyes narrow, her pace unfaltering as she presses her palm firmer against you, forcing another desperate jolt from your body.
“Use your words,” she says, husky and unyielding.
“I want to hear you.”
Shame burns hotter than your blush.
You’ve been taught to keep quiet your whole life, drilled into silence even when your body was screaming for release.
The thought of letting go, of letting Sevika hear how much she makes you unravel, twists something inside you, half fear, half desperate want.
“I…” your voice cracks, and you swallow, chest heaving.
Her fingers curl inside you and you gasp, the sound tearing out of you before you can stop it.
Sevika’s mouth curves into a slow, hungry smile as she catches it, as if she’s been waiting for that exact sound. Her lips crash back onto yours, her voice growling against your mouth, “That’s it. Don’t hide from me.”
And with her fingers working you open, her hips pressing insistently against you, there’s no room left for silence.
But you can’t help it. You keep your mouth shut.
Your body gives her everything it can.
Your shaking thighs clamped around her hips, the heat dripping down her fingers, the way you arch and writhe under every stroke.
But your voice… it’s still trapped. Locked away behind bitten lips and shallow breaths. The tiny, strangled gasps that escape you are so restrained it almost hurts her to hear them.
Sevika realizes pretty fast while you have sex. It’s not shyness. Not inexperience either, even if just slightly a part of it.
It’s something carved into you, something you’ve probably been taught, and it runs too deep to be undone in one night.
It’s not something she can tease about. Not something she can use to be mean or cruel and make you drip even more for her.
So she doesn’t push.
Instead, she presses her lips to your temple, murmuring low praise between kisses to your skin.
“That’s it. You’re doing so good for me.” “fuck, you feel incredible.” “let me take care of you, baby.” Her voice rumbles through your bones, grounding you as she keeps her movements steady and sure, carrying you to the edge until your silence finally shatters and she does too.
Not with words or sounds for your part,but with the way your whole body seizes, clinging to her as release rips through you.
She holds you, strong and unshakable, recovering from her own high. Only then does she ease her touch, kissing you soft and slow, letting you breathe.
Later, when you’re curled against her chest, her flesh arm wrapped around you and your face tucked into the crook of her neck, the thought lingers.
She strokes absent circles into your back, quiet in the afterglow.
She wants to ask. Wants to know why you hold yourself back, why you seem afraid of letting her hear you even though she wants to hear you.
But she knows this isn’t the moment to pry. Not when you’re so vulnerable in her arms, clinging to her warmth like she’s the only solid thing in the world.
So she kisses the top of your head, pulling you closer. For now, she thinks, she’ll just hold you.
But in the back of her mind, she’s wondering how she’ll bring it up later; how she’ll make sure you understand, that with her, you never have to be silent.
For a while, she lets it be. Lets you both rest, lets the haze of the night dissolve into ordinary days filled with cigarettes by the window, quiet breakfasts, and evenings where you both sprawl across her couch like you belong there.
It’s domestic, casual. Something a bit too unfamiliar to her but she’s starting to love the idea.
It’s on one of those lazy afternoons, when the sun is spilling soft light across her apartment, that Sevika decides it’s maybe time to talk about it.
You’re straddling her thighs, facing her, half-distracted as you play with the chain around her neck while the two of you talk about nothing really important.
She’s got her hands heavy on your hips, tracing absent lines into your skin.
You’re laughing at something dumb she just said about a coworker when her thumb stills against you.
“Hey,” she starts, and her voice is rougher, more deliberate than before. You look up at her, curious, blinking those eyes she can never look away from.
She shifts under you, her jaw working like she’s chewing on the words before she spits them out. “Can I ask you something? …About sex.”
The word makes you freeze just slightly, shoulders tensing even though you try to hide it. Your gaze flickers down, but you nod anyway, laughing softly, awkwardly. “…Yeah. What about it?”
She doesn’t miss the stiffness, the way your voice tilts just enough to betray you.
She shifts her hands to your waist, grounding you against her chest, her eyes holding yours steady. “The other night,” she says, low and careful, “You were quiet. Like holding back.”
Your fingers twisting her chain absently as she waits, Sevika, not exactly known for being delicate with words, clears her throat and tries again.
“Maybe…” She smirks a little, but it’s self-deprecating, almost awkward. “I’m just used to loud girls.” She shrugs, big shoulders shifting under your hands. “Not to flatter myself or anything.”
You blink at her, startled, before your lips twitch in a smile. She sounds like she’s joking, but she’s so bad at it. The dry way she says it, like she’s honestly just tossing the thought out there, that it makes something soft and embarrassed bloom in your chest.
Sevika catches the way you duck your head, cheeks warm, and her brow furrows. “Hey. I wasn’t—” she starts, but you’re still fidgeting, rolling her chain between your fingers like you’re trying to find courage in the cool metal.
“It’s okay, it’s not that,” you whisper, shaking your head.
“I’m not… It’s just…” Your throat tightens, and you have to look down, focusing on the line of her collarbone instead of her eyes. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever been with.”
Sevika nods once, steady, no judgment in it. She knew that already, you’d talked about it, but she can tell this is leading somewhere heavier.
She keeps quiet, giving you room.
Your voice falters, soft and ashamed. “Well, before you… the men I’ve been with weren’t really… good. I mean… ah, it’s embarrassing”
You laugh in embarrassment, almost self deprecating, before saying, “They always told me to be quiet. I just… couldn’t make a sound.”
You keep your eyes on her chain like it might anchor you. “I’m just… ashamed,” you admit finally, the word thick on your tongue. “I tried, last time, when you told me you wanted to hear me. I wanted to. But it’s impossible now. It’s like—” You stop, take a shaky breath. “the first time I’ve ever been allowed to make a sound without… being scolded for it.”
Sevika’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t interrupt. She just strokes her thumb over your waist, waiting.
Your voice lowers, as if the memory itself might overhear. “Last time I did, with my ex, he just… stopped. Got mad. Sulked like a child. Made me feel stupid for it. And it stuck.”
The confession hangs heavy between you, shame curling through your chest as your cheeks burn hotter.
Then you glance up at her, eyes glinting with a teasing defiance, even if it’s soft. “But I left him. Don’t look at me like that.”
Her brows had been furrowed deep, a storm brewing behind her eyes, but your little tease loosens them. A slow breath escapes her, and the sharp line of her shoulders eases.
Sevika shakes her head, mouth twitching into something not quite a smile, not quite a scowl. “Good,” she mutters, blunt as ever. Her flesh hand squeezes the flesh of your waist, grounding. “Because he was a fucking idiot.”
She tilts her head, meeting your gaze, voice low and steady. “I’m bad at this, but you don’t have to be quiet with me. But if it’s hard for you, then don’t force it, yeah? No shame. No bullshit rules some fuckers left in your head. Just you and me.”
The words taste strange in her mouth, too raw, too earnest. Sevika isn’t used to talking like this, her jaw flexes as if she wants to grit her teeth around the cheesiness of it.
But she means every word, and it shows in the steady weight of her hand on your waist, in the way she doesn’t look away.
You blink at her, then let out a soft laugh. Not mocking, not dismissive. Just… lighter. Relieved. The sound makes her shoulders relax a fraction.
“God,” you murmur, cheeks still burning as you finally meet her eyes. “You sound so serious.”
“I am,” she says, blunt, like it’s the only answer.
Your smile grows just a little, shy but warm. You lean closer into her, resting your forehead against hers. “Yeah, okay,” you whisper. “As long as you’re patient enough.”
A low huff of air leaves her, half a scoff, half a laugh, but her arm wraps tighter around you, pulling you closer on her lap. “Yeah,” she mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I can be patient.”
And she means it. For you, she can be.
And just like that, one day, you barely manage to tug Sevika’s shirt over her head, her dark hair falling loose above her shoulders, when your own pants hit the floor.
The rush of it all makes you dizzy. Her hands everywhere, her mouth hot and demanding against yours.
Then suddenly, with a rough efficiency that makes your head spin, Sevika’s dragging your panties down your thighs and tossing them aside.
You don’t even have time to protest, to catch your breath, before her grip is on your knees, broad palms spreading you wide, pressing them up on her shoulders like you weigh nothing.
“Sev—!” Your voice breaks on her name, shock and heat flooding your cheeks.
She glances up at you through heavy lids, lips already curved with hunger, her expression dark and unrelenting. “Relax,” she rasps, her voice gravel and smoke. “I’ve been wanting this for too long.”
And then her mouth is on you; no warning, no hesitation, just the wet slide of her tongue and the crushing grip of her hands pinning your legs on her shoulders, holding you there while she devours you like she’s been starving.
The first drag of her tongue has your back arching clean off the mattress.
It’s not tentative, not careful.
Sevika licks into you like she’s been waiting her whole life for the taste, groaning low against your skin as if she’s the one being fed.
You clutch at the sheets, your breath catching sharp in your chest. And then the sounds start slipping out, broken little gasps, ragged breaths that tear free before you can even think to stop them.
It’s overwhelming. Too much. Too new.
Her mouth is everywhere at once, her tongue relentless, her lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard enough to make your vision spark. The sheer intensity of it short-circuits your brain, burns through every rule you ever followed about staying quiet.
You don’t even realize you’re being louder than you’ve ever been, your gasps and whimpers spilling out raw, unfiltered, desperate. Each time Sevika groans into you, it vibrates straight through your body, pulling another helpless sound from your throat.
Your thighs try to close around her head, but her grip is iron, holding your knees pinned to her shoulders like she’s got no intention of letting you escape.
The sight alone of her shoulders broad and solid between your legs, her face buried deep in you; is enough to make you cry out, breathless and undone.
“Ah, Sevika—” It bursts out of you without thought, your voice high and trembling.
The second you hear yourself, your whole body locks.
Your eyes fly wide, panic flooding in. If it weren’t for Sevika’s hands braced like steel over your thighs, you’d have snapped your knees shut on instinct, crushing her head between them just to stop yourself from being heard again.
Your chest heaves, shame choking the edges of your high, and you stare down at her with your lips parted, already fumbling for an apology. “I—I didn’t mean—”
But then you see her.
Sevika’s eyes are locked on yours, burning dark with hunger. Her mouth is wet, glistening even, chin slick with your juice, and when her tongue drags slowly across her lower lip, her smirk is nothing but feral.
The sight knocks the words right out of your mouth. Your apology dies in your throat, replaced by a helpless shudder.
Sevika squeezes your thighs, her grip unrelenting, and tilts her head just enough to rasp against your skin, voice low and wrecked, “Better like this, uh.”
And before you can even think, she’s back on you.
Her smirk pressed into your flesh, her tongue sliding deep again, as if your voice has only made her hungrier.
Her tongue works you with unrelenting precision, every stroke calculated to tear more out of you. And it does. You gasp, broken and unrestrained, each sound tumbling past your lips without thought.
The realization lingers; you’re making noise, something you swore you couldn’t do.
But it’s forgotten faster than you ever imagined as pleasure coils low and tight in your gut.
You clutch at the sheets, your thighs trembling against her grip, the world narrowing to nothing but her mouth on you, her hands holding you open, her growl vibrating against your most sensitive flesh.
Your gasps turn quicker, sharper, spilling out one after the other as the pressure builds.
Not loud this time; not the sudden shout of her name, but free, natural, desperate little cries that you couldn’t stop if you tried.
And when it finally snaps, when that wave rips through you, the sound that leaves your throat is raw and unfiltered, a breathless, quivering release that makes your whole body shudder.
Sevika doesn’t let go, not until she’s dragged every last tremor out of you, not until your free, gasping cries fade into ragged breaths.
Only then does she ease her grip, pressing your legs gently down, kissing the inside of your thigh with her mouth still glistening, her smirk dark and satisfied.
this request was amazing to write. If you read this and you’re the one who asked me this, I love you and I LOVE your mind.
thank you for reading, thank you all for supporting me. 🩶
Summary- you accompany your mother to the country club house, only to meet an interesting woman.
I don't really have a clue about tennis so bare with me here.
(y/m/n) - your mother's name
Milf Wanda is amazing! And thank you for so much positive feedback on my previous fic!
Your pov:
"Mom do I really have to go with you?" You ask, voice filled with annoyance as you follow the woman up the stairs.
"Yes you do. Now go pack your bags. I don't want to hear another word of this. We are going and that is final." You let out a defeated sigh, and walked up to your room. Your mother insisted, well more like forced you to accompany her to the country club to play some tennis because apparently you had been inside the house far too long this summer.
You were a good tennis player, that's for sure but being around so many snobbish, older people just wasn't how you wanted to spend your day. Especially with your mother's nagging voice ringing in your ear, constantly murmuring how you weren't playing perfectly. Nonetheless you began to get ready because you weren't in the mood for another scolding from the older woman. You put on your clothes, a pair of shoes, picked some essentials before placing them in your gym bag, and lastly, you grabbed your racket and a few tennis balls.
"Alright, let's go!" Your mom yelled from downstairs and you groaned. You rushed downstairs before grabbing your water bottle then walking towards the car.
"Trust me kid, I'd rather be at work than go to that country club." Your dad murmured softly from behind you and you only chuckled.
_
You stepped out of the car before your mom walked behind you, a grumble of annoyance escaping her lips.
"I told you, no short skirts, are you trying to show your ass to everyone? Christ what will people think?!" You rolled your eyes but you had a sly smirk painted across your face. Perhaps you'd find someone interesting here.
Your family walked into the Westview Country club, being stopped by a couple of your mother's closest friends. Your dad had already wandered off to the buffet and you were left awkwardly standing in the center of the large room.
You sighed, annoyance already bubbling up deep within you. You decided to make your way outside to the courts instead of just standing alone in the room. You were bored and beyond frustrated that your mother had pulled you away from the comfort of your room and forced you to come here. You walked past a few people you knew, smiling at those who even offered a glance your way. The rest of them just passed you without a word or just gave you a scowl. Well isn't everyone in this place just a ray of sunshine.
Minutes later and you were starting to get pissed. Your mother was nowhere to be found and your dad was surrounded by a bunch of other men talking about sports or the young girls they had been sleeping around with. Ew.
As you made your way to an empty court, you got hit by a tennis ball on your head.
"Ouch! What the fuck man?" You grabbed the ball before turning around, ready to scold whoever had hit you with the ball. You knew it wasn't intentional but you just wanted to let your frustrations out.
"Oh, I'm so sorry sweetheart, a friend and I were playing and turns out my aim wasn't right." A blonde woman apologized with a sincere smile on her face. You weren't even paying attention to her apology because you were so mesmerized by her features. This woman was sculpted by aphrodite herself. The woman had short blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, plump pink lips, manicured finger nails that could probably ruin you...
"Oh um no it's okay." You cleared your throat in embarrassment before letting a chuckle fall past your lips. The blonde just smiled at you before she tilted her head.
"Do I know you? You just look so familiar?" She asked, now placing her racket in her other hand.
"Oh no. I don't think so. My mother is actually the one who comes here often and-"
"Y/n, there you are." Your mom came in, interrupting the conversation you were having with this mysterious woman.
"Oh. I see you've met Wanda Maximoff." Your mom murmured and it was then that you remembered the infamous woman your mother did not like. At all.
Wanda, on the other hand now realized why you looked so familiar. You practically had your mother's face if it wasn't for the difference in eye color and well because you were younger.
Back to you, you still wondered how your mother could hate such a beautiful woman. Then again, your mother hated everyone. Your eyes ran over the woman's features before they landed on those gorgeous green eyes that were looking right at you before they turned to your mother.
"Hello y/m/n." Wanda said, her voice sounding as equally pissed as your mom's. The blonde woman averted her eyes to you, smiling at you before your mom began talking.
"We should catch up! Have some tea some time." Your mom said and you fought the urge to scoff.
"Of course, that would be great, I really should get back to my game though." The blonde spoke and you were a little upset that you wouldn't have time to talk to her anymore.
"Well y/n here is a great player herself. Maybe she can play against you." You turned to your mom with a scowl plastered on your face. Of course your mom would do this. Yes, you wanted to talk to the blonde but you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of her.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind that at all."She smiled and winked at you. You blushed a little before your mother nudged you to walk over to the court she was playing at.
You and Wanda began walking in an awkward filled silence until the blonde woman spoke up.
"Your mother. Very interesting woman isn't she? " She said and you laughed a little.
"Yeah, one could say that. But I'd like to think we're different."
"How so?" She asked and you just shrugged.
"I don't know, I just guess we're not the same." Wanda nodded and watched as you walked in front of her, your skirt riding up from your movements.
"Sorry Agnes, do you mind if I play with someone else right now?" Wanda asked and the woman named Agnes just agreed before walking off the courts.
"No problem hun, I should catch up with Ralph and make sure he isn't up to anything stupid." She joked before turning to you.
"Hiya hot stuff, what's your name?"
"Y/n." You said with a shy smile and Agnes chuckled.
"Well aren't you a cutie. Anyways you two enjoy your game. And take it easy on her Wanda." Agnes said with a pointed look making her friend roll her eyes.
"I should warn you, I'm not the best player." You said with a shrug of your shoulders which made the blonde woman smile.
"Neither am I sweetheart, but we'll see what happens yeah?" Wanda said as she bent down to pick a ball up.
You watched as she bent down. You fought the urge to stare at her ass but it wasn't that easy. Wanda could feel your eyes on her and when she stood up she had the biggest smirk on her face.
"See something you like?" She teased and you felt your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
"Uhm I'm sorry." She only laughed before walking over to place her bottled water down.
You walked over to place your phone and water bottle on the side before making your way to your side of the court. And just like that, you and Wanda began your game of tennis.
_
_
"Well, you're quite the excellent player yourself Ms y/l/n"
"You're not too bad too Mrs Maximoff."
"Oh honey, please call me Wanda. Mrs Maximoff makes me feel old." She says with a small laugh and you nod your head.
"Alright Wanda." The name slips off your tongue in a way that has Wanda holding onto her racket for her dear life. You were so sweet and adorable to her, something about you intrigued her. She'd never felt this way before. Never with her past relationships and surely never with Vision. And the smile you sent her afterwards, was enough to make her feel like she was young again. Something about you drew her in and she wanted to explore it more.
You could practically feel the tension between the two of you, her eyes scanning your face and her lips parted but of course your mother just had to walk in and ruin the moment.
"Who won?" She asked and you turned to Wanda.
"Uh we weren't really keeping track." You said while shrugging and you could see your mom fighting back a scoff.
"But it was fun." you commented and Wanda sent you a wink.
"Well it was nice to see you Wanda, but we should get going."
Your mom pulled you away before you even got the chance to say goodbye to Wanda.
_
_
After that day, you found yourself visiting the country club more often just to see a particular blonde woman. You often went with your parents or sometimes even alone.
Wanda caught onto your little act and she loved every second of it. She loved the days when you'd decide to come alone. That way, she could be more flirtatious with you not that she stopped even when your parents were around, she just did it skillfully.
"I see you've come alone. Is it perhaps to see me once again?" She asks with a small smile playing on her lips.
"Well Wanda as much as I do enjoy seeing you, who says a girl can't come here to play some tennis?" You teased with a wiggle of your brow and she chuckled.
"Fair enough, but enough of that, join me for a drink?" She asks with a hopeful smile and who were you to deny some time with the blonde woman.
So with a nod of your head, you followed the woman to the bar area. You sat down with Wanda next to you, and she called over the bartender to order a drink. You spent the afternoon talking to Wanda, and it was absolutely amazing. It seemed as though the alcohol she drank made her more bold with her touches and glances, and even her words were much more sultry and suggestive than before. And you won't lie, you did enjoy the slightest bit of attention that you got from the older woman.
"Can I ask a qiestion?"
"Well you're already asking me one aren't you detka?" She teases and you laugh lightly.
"Go ahead."
"Are you married?" Wanda is taken aback by your question and you are immediately overcome with a dreadful feeling.
"Oh god I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just wondered why you were reffered to as Mrs since, well I haven't really seen you wear a ring."
Wanda shakes her head with a small chuckle that eases your nevers just a bit.
"That's alright malysh, I'm not mad. I was married but unfortunately we didn't work out." She pauses for a moment, her finger tracing the outline of the glass like she was contemplating whether to continue talking or not.
"I understand, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"You're precious." She remarks again, giving you a wink that sends butterflies down to your stomach.
"He wasn't faithful. After I had my twins, he sort of just distanced himself. I thought I was overthinking it but I guess I was right when he'd barely come home at night or whenever he did, he'd smell like another woman's perfume." A dry chuckle escaped her lips and your heart clenches.
"I'm sorry about that." You say, reaching for her hand and rubbing it. She gives you a small smile before clearing her throat.
"That's all in the past malysh. I guess the name still sticks to this day."
"You have twins?" You ask with a smile and she nods her head.
"Hm hm. My two boys, Billie and Tommy."
"That's amazing." You say with a genuine smile and Wanda gives you one of her wide smiles.
_
_
"You're in to her aren't you Wanda?" Her friend asked as they sat on the pool chairs, watching the twins have fun inside the pool.
"Of course not Agnes, that's insane. I just have an admiration for her. That's it."
"Oh what a bunch of bull-" Wanda gives Agnes a warning look that silences the brunette from finishing her cuss word.
"It's harmless fun Agnes. It really isn't anything." Wanda explains to her friend who doesn't believe a single word she says. Agnes scoffs but says nothing more, instead she picks up her drink and takes a sip of it while watching Wanda with a unamused expression.
_
_
Wanda had asked you to help her with a few things at her home. And being the polite girl who had grown a crush on the woman, well you agreed. Which is how you found yourself next to the woman, helping her with her sink.
"Do you really know what you're doing there y/n?" She asked, gaze shamefully sweeping down your frame.
"Your lack in faith for me is quite undermining Wanda." You joke as you finished up. Wanda bit her lip, heat spreading down her spine as she watches you fix her sink.
"There. Done." You remarked as you stood up. You opened the faucet, smiling to yourself once the water begins to run.
"Problem solved."
"Thank you y/n you're a life saver." She murmurs and you shoot her a smile.
"How much can I pay you?"She asked as she pulled her wallet out.
"Oh no, please it's not necessary."
"Nonsense y/n, let me at least give you something." She pulls out money, handing it to you but you push her hand back gently.
"I'm serious, it's okay Wanda." With the way you were looking at the woman, she could only breath out before darting her tongue to the corner of her mouth. The small action catches your attention almost immediately and the tension in the kitchen rises, the both of you being aware of it.
"Is there maybe another way I could pay you?" She asks in a husky tone that has your stomach flipping and before you know it, her lips are pressed against yours.
You're taken slightly aback with the kiss and the ferocity of it but you kissed her back with the same level passion. Wanda pushed you against the kitchens counter, her arms moving up to wrap around your neck as yours find their place around her waist. The two of you battle for dominance but you manage to overpower her and you bite her tongue which has her eliciting a whine. Wanda pulls away from the heated kiss, her cheeks coated in a red tint breath still ragged from the kiss the two of you just shared.
The both of you don't say anything to one another for a while and once Wanda starts speaking, you can't seem to pay attention because all you were thinking about was what was under the clothes she had on. When Wanda realizes that you weren't paying attention to what she was saying, because your dilated pupils were focused on her cleavage instead, she could not help the flutter of butterflies that erupted inside her stomach. The idea of someone wanting her after so long has her feeling different, almost as if she was finally being seen.
And when you see Wanda begin to unbottun her shirt, your eyes are fixated on her movements before they trail up to her face that has a smirk planted on it.
"Are you sure there isn't another way I can pay you y/n? I think you'd like this payemnet very much." Her tone was so sultry and fuck did it make you wet. All you could do was clear your throat, your mouth running dry as she slips her blouse off. Your hands twitch in response, the urge to reach out and touch her smooth skin so strong.
"You can touch if you'd like." She teases and you reach out to pull her in for a searing kiss. Wanda can't help the moan that escapes her lips as you reach over to touch her covered breasts. She hums in pleasure as your fingers trail to her shoulders, to pull the straps of her bra down. Wanda's eyes are dilated, her breathing has escalated and she now stares at you with a pleading look.
"Y/n... Touch me."
_
_
Another sunny day and Wanda was sitting outside on the pool chairs with her friend next to her. She watched as her boys played in the swimming pool, a water gun in Tommy's hand while Billy held a ball. Agnes, ever the talkative one between the two of them, continued to rant about her husband. Something about his mother coming into town and Agnes wanting nothing more than to run away. But Wanda couldn't pay attention to her.
Not when her thoughts were consumed by you and you only.
"Y/n and I are having sex." She said quietly but loud enough for Agnes to hear.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said."
"Could you perhaps elaborate."
"What is there to elaborate, her and I are..."
"Fucking?"
"Not so loud." Wanda slaps her friend on the shoulder, her eyes scanning at the children before they're back on Agnes.
"But yes."
"How did this begin and... When?"
"It just... Happened."
You kissed Wanda again and again until you had no air to breathe. The older woman was now sprawled on her bed, her chest heaving with anticipation as you slowly slid her panties off. Wanda licked her lips in anticipation, her heart racing as she waited for your first move. And when you finally latched your tongue onto her bundle of nerves, her head was thrown back in pleasure.
"Oh.... Fuck!" The tatse of her sweet nectar had you humming in satisfaction before you greedily began to feast on the blonde woman's pussy.
Wanda's hands were locked in your hair, pulling the coils as her thighs wrapped around your head.
"god y/n just like that!"
"You tatse so amazing Wanda."
"Well it happened the day she helped me fix my sink."
"And when you say 'having sex' you mean that you two are still..."
"Yes."
Another day at the tennis club and instead of doing the actual sport, you were currently doing Wanda in the country clubs bathroom. With the older woman propped onto one of the sinks in one of the country clubs' luxurious bathroom, you had been eagerly eating her out for a long while. Wanda bit her lip in attempt to suppress her moans but with your skilled tongue swiping through her folds and collecting her wetness as if her slick was keeping you alive, and maybe it was.
"Y/n, please S-stop..." She whimpered as you brought her to her third orgasm in that bathroom. You hummed but when you you tried to move an inch away from the woman's pussy, her hand was grabbing your head, pushing you towards her pussy once again.
"You want me to move or stay?" You teased as a finger collected her slick before bringing it up to her face as proof of how wet she was.
"I don't think you want me to stop because your pussy sings otherwise Wanda." The woman groans and the smirk on your face grows before you slip your fingers inside her again.
"Well this is something I didn't expect." Agnes mumbles while downing the last of her drink.
"How is she?"
"She's... indescribable."
"Better than Vision?" The brunette woman asks with a teasing smile that has Wanda scoffing.
"What he did, y/n could probably do in her sleep."
"Well my dear, I just advice you to be careful Wanda. You know how people feel about well you know homosexuality. Besides her mother is a devil so the territory you're playing on is quite dangerous."
Wanda hums in agreement. She knew that Agnes was right but that didn't mean that she would even think about ending whatever it is that you two had. Not when she was having so much fun.
_
_
Sunday services weren't really your favorite thing to attend. That was until you met Wanda. Now it was somewhat tolerable. It's not that you didn't like the word but the environment around you was toxic. You could do without the remarks about homosexuality or the snark comments that were thrown your way at times, that's what you hated the most.
But there you sat, a few rows behind the older woman. Wanda looked as dashing as ever. With her blonde hair styled perfectly, a blue dress adoring her gorgeous figure to which she topped off with a diamond necklace. And right next to her, were her two children, who were dressed in suits. You could tell that it had been a hassle to get both Billy and Tommy into those suits since Tommy could not stop tugging at his tie whenever his mother wasn't looking at him. But nevertheless, they all looked like the perfect family.
"Y/n?" A somewhat familiar voice called your name from behind and you turned to see Sam, a girl who you had once shared intimacy with in the past.
"Sam? What are you doing here?"
"Why are you so shocked to see me huh?" She joked and you shook your head.
"You don't go to church."
"Touché. I'm actually here with my older sister. She thought it would be beneficial you know." You nodded your head in understanding before she moved over to you.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Please, go ahead." She gave you a smile, and once upon a time you would have melted at the sight but now your heart was somewhere else.
Speaking of which, Wanda had been staring at the two of you for some time now. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you. And when Sam sat next to you, she couldn't help but frown at this. It seemed like the two of you knew each other. Especially with the Way Sam was practically undressing you with her eyes.
She should be shameful. Not because she was in a holy place but because she was stepping onto another woman's property. Not that Wanda saw you as property, but she didn't like this at all.
"So do you wanna go out sometime maybe?" Sam asked with her hand on your shoulder as the service had finally ended.
"Uh no." You pushed her hand away, in attempt of getting away from her.
"I'm seeing someone."
"Oh."
"I should go anyway."
_
_
Wanda had told you prior to meet her later that night. She had mentioned how she had wanted to surprise you with something that day a week ago and you could not help the giddy feeling that had been arising in you. Wanda had given you a key to her house some time ago, so it was easy for you to slip into her home without any hassle.
As you walked up the stairs with your hands inside your pocket, you could hear the faint noise of shuffling which you could only assume was from the master bedroom. And when you walked inside, you spotted the blonde woman seated on her bed, a silk robe covering her features.
"Hi." You spoke giddly and Wanda only offered a smile in acknowledgement before beckoning you over with that same smile on her face. You walked over to the woman, who slowly but surely got you to be situated onto your knees in front of her, her hand placing the small strand of hair behind your ear.
"Who was that girl you were with earlier on?" She asked and you frowned in confusion.
"Which girl?"
"Don't play coy with me y/n." You tilted your head, still confused as to what she had been talking about until it dawned you.
"Oh she was just someone."
"Uh huh." Wanda was quiet for a moment before humming.
"Do I look dumb malyshka?"
"W-what no."
"Let me tell you something y/n. I don't like it when someone touches what's mine and sweetie, that friend of yours was touching what was mine."
"Well i-"
"Did mommy say you could talk?" Woah.
"Now it might have been my own fault for letting that cute little head of yours think that you were in charge because my sweet girl, you aren't." Her tone was straight up condescending and you were taken aback by the women's sudden dominance but you'd be a fool if you said you didn't love it.
"I'm sorry." Was all you could mumble as you bowed your head.
"Oh mommy knows you are sweetheart, and you can always make it up to me, right?"
"Yes I can, I promise I can."
"Good girl. Now... " Wanda slipped her robe off, and you were borderline shocked to see a harness attached to her hips.
"Pretty right? And I'm sure it will look even better inside your pussy." She murmured and you couldn't help but let out a small whine.
"Falling into obedience so easily huh?" She chuckled darkly before her hands were in your hair.
"Why don't you get this wet for me huh?" She said while guiding the toy to your lips. And you now being the good girl you are, opened your mouth gladly accepting the toy inside.
"Oh what a precious sight this is." Wanda bit her lip as she watched you suck the red silicone toy in amazement. She was mesmerized with watching it disappear before it reappeared covered in a layer of your spit. Wanda let out a groan once she heard you gag around the toy, she had to hear it again, to see your face become ruined from her ministrations.
Wanda's hips began to raise on their own accord and she cooed as the strap hit the back of your throat countless times.
"That's okay, look how good you're doing for me." And she continued to fuck your mouth until she was satisfied with the results which was your teary half lidded eyes looking up at her.
"How pretty." Wanda commanded you to strip until you were bare before she instructed you to lay down onto her rather comfortable bed. She'd purposefully told you to leave your panties on because she wanted to be the one to slip the garments off. And when she ripped the material apart with a dark look in her eyes, you then realized that you were in for it all. Especially since you had no clue of what lengths Wanda was capable of.
Wanda wasted no time with her fingers. With your slick covered pussy, she maneuvered her two fingers inside before moving them at a moderate pace. Never did you think the woman you had secretly been seeing for almost two months, had this side to her. A feral, dominant and more sadistic side. But you fucking loved it.
"Look at this sweet pussy. What is it that you said huh? Your pussy sings for me..."She reiterated the words you had once told her as she scissored her two digits inside you.
Wanda was fucking you with her fingers. Hard. She just couldn't get the picture of that girl next to you. Wanda would make sure that you knew your body belonged to her. Whenever she would be around, your body would yearn for her subconsciously, your mind would need her. You would need her. She continued with her ministrations, watching as her once dry fingers were now soaked with your arousal.
She smiled to herself, her mind wheeling with all the possibilities she could do with you. And when her mouth latched onto your clit, you were practically gone. The older women fucked you as if she'd known your body for years. You were certain the women knew your body better than you did. You shuddered as her teeth grazed over your clit, a wanton moan escaping your lips from the sensation.
"Oh you like that don't you? Such a pretty girl." She cooed before doing it again. Wanda separated from your pussy, her fingers slipped out of your pussy and you whined which only made her smirk.
"Wanda-"
"Patience dear, you said you'd make it up to me didn't you?" She asked with a raised brow and you let out a huff.
"Don't worry, mommy knows was best for you." She lightly slapped your face before her slick covered fingers were placed inside your mouth.
"Suck. Clean your mess up." And you did. You sucked and licked her fingers as if your life was dependent on it.
"Good girl. If only you could see yourself. You look so fuckable." Wanda's teeth tugged at her lips as her fingers were pulled out of your mouth then slipped inside your pussy again. She began moving them slowly, and your hips started moving on their own accord, needing to feel her fingers slide deeper inside of you.
"Awwe pretty girl, do you want me to fuck you?" A frustrated eye roll was sent her way and within the blink of an eye, Wanda had her hand pressed against your throat, her eyes glimmering with anger, disappointment and lust.
"Don't be a brat now. I don't like brats." She said, her hand tightening around your neck, but not to the point where you couldn't breathe, just as a warning to you.
"M'sorry."
"I'm sure you are." Her hand was still on your neck as the fingers inside you quickened.
"Is this all that you want? To cum?" Her question made you stutter but you nodded your head. Wanda tutted but her fingers still continued to move inside of you.
"Pathetic." Her fingers hit that spongy spot inside you that had you babbling and begging to ask Wanda to cum. She smirked before she made a thinking face.
"You wanna cum detka? Cum for me then."
As the older woman made that final command, your body spasmed and you experienced one of the most toe curling orgasms you'd ever received in your life.
"Fuck."
"There we go, just let go yeah?" Wanda whispered inside your ear as she marked your neck. A reminder that you were hers and anyone that would see these marks would know that you belonged to someone, even if they didn't know it was her.
And when you finally came back from your high, Wanda had already been positioning the strap on inside of you,catching you off guard almost immediately.
"Look how easily it slides in?" She murmured as she slowly began to thrust the toy inside of you.
You could feel it tearing you apart. The silicone toy was longer and girthier than you had expected it to be. But with the way Wanda had been looking at you while her fingers played with your nipples the pain has soon subsided, slowly becoming pleasurable. You moaned and whimpered as Wanda took full control of your body, somehow fucking you into the bed.
"You're mine y/n, don't forget that." She said as she pounded into you. You didn't know what to do with yourself. This pleasure was overwhelming but in a good way.
"Say it."
"I'm yours." With gritted teeth, she continued rutting her hips inside of you and you could feel your orgasm approaching.
"Come on y/n, cum again. And you're gonna keep cumming until I tell you you can stop." Wanda mumbled, her hips never getting tired of pistoning in and out of you, especially with the way your pussy was gripping the toy. Or the way your arousal would spread all over the toy, god it was mesmerizing. And soon enough you had been succumbing the pleasure, your second orgasm of the night hitting you like a tidal wave.
But Wanda Maximoff was a woman of her word. And when she said you'd cum until she was satisfied, she meant it. She was adamant on making your body hers. From the marks to the bites and to your pussy singing for her. Just her.
By the end of the night, your body was hers and her body was yours.
violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"
summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)
a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.
TABLE OF CONTENTS ━
prologue: party people
chapter one: shut up and kiss me
chapter two: fists to a knife fight
chapter three: love's dream
chapter four: for cup's sake
chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)
chapter six: six (nsfw)
─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ
pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!
prologue: party people
─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.
“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.
Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”
She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.
“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.
“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”
And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.
“Vi, it’s your turn!”
Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.
It’s a pretty name.
You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.
You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.
You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —
“— right, ice princess, you ready?”
“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —
“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.
Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.
“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.
“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”
Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.
You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.
“Privacy. Please.”
You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.
“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.
“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”
You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.
“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”
Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.
“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”
Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.
And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.
“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.
A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.
“Oh fuck you.”
She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.
You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.
“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.
You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.
“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”
Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.
“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”
You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.
“Darling, are you —”
“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”
Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”
You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”
Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.
“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”
You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.
You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.
You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.
Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.
Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.
hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]
synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.
content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.
fic soundtrack:
i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi
author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T
i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol
main masterlist | arcane masterlist
VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.
One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, whose rare to come by these days.
Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.
In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.
Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.
Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.
You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.
Until it is.
It all starts at The Afterparty.
Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.
She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.
The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.
And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.
The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.
With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.
She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.
“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”
You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.
“Sorry,” you hum passively.
She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.
The step creaks under pure muscle.
Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.
The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.
But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.
It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.
“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.
Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.
“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.
“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.
And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.
“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”
She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.
You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.
“________,” you offer.
She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.
“And you go to school here?” she asks.
You nod once.
“Neuroscience, fourth year.”
“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.
“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”
Vi’s floored.
“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.
“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”
“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”
You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.
“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”
“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.
And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.
Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.
“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.
No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.
The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.
You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.
“Maybe.”
Vi decides that she needs to see you again.
You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.
“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.
“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”
“So?”
“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”
Her teammate snorts.
“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”
The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.
Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.
From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.
“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”
Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.
“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.
“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.
“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”
And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.
Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.
You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.
“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.
Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.
“Violet,” you acknowledge.
And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.
The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.
“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.
“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”
You don’t even bat an eye.
“I did.”
“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”
“I am.”
“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.
Especially when you look up at her like that.
You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.
“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.
Vi could melt.
“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”
“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.
Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.
“So I can get paid?” you fill in.
“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”
You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.
“You’re fucking joking!”
The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Maddie,” you whisper.
“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.
“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”
“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”
You look around in disbelief.
“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”
“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”
“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”
It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.
“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”
“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Don’t start.”
“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”
You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.
Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.
“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.
If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.
Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.
“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.
“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.
“Maddie,” you warn.
“Love you, see you at home!”
Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.
“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.
“Hi.”
A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.
“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”
Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.
Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.
“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.
Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.
“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.
“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.
It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.
You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.
“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.
“Huh?”
Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.
“Am I going too fast?”
“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”
You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.
Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.
You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.
You decide to fold your cards first.
“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”
No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”
You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.
“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”
She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.
“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”
And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.
But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.
You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.
You refresh for good measure.
“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”
You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.
Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.
You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.
A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.
When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.
Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.
“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.
Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.
“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”
And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.
The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.
“Violet.”
Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.
She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.
“V—”
“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”
“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”
Vi’s smile is crooked.
“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”
“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?
You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.
She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.
“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”
Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.
“N-No,” you stammer.
“Great, see you tomorrow?“
You swallow.
“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”
Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.
Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.
“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.
You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.
“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”
And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.
“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.
“Jack shit,” she laughs.
And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.
“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.
“Sure, anything.”
“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”
And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.
Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.
“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.
You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.
“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”
Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.
It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.
“Hungry?” you ask.
“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.
Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.
“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.
“Not since breakfast,” you admit.
“You like pizza?”
“Only the good kind,” you challenge.
“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”
Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.
“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.
You shake your head.
“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.
It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.
Vi’s desperate for more.
“As in?”
You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.
“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”
Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.
“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”
And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.
“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.
“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”
“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”
“God, marry me now.”
She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.
“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.
“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”
Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.
“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”
You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.
“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.
“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.
You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.
“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”
“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”
And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.
That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?
Like cigarettes?
no, weed, dummy.
Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.
She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.
And then she gets the invite.
Ellie swears it’s her in.
“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.
“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.
“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”
“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.
“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”
“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.
You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.
If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.
“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”
Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.
You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.
“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”
Vi raises a brow.
“My cat,” you clarify.
“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.
But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.
Cute. So fucking cute.
You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.
“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”
You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.
“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”
And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.
“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.
You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.
“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”
“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”
She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.
“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”
You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.
“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.
“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”
It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.
Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.
“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.
“Vi,” you whimper.
And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.
She resists a smile.
“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”
You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.
“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.
Test the waters, cop a feel.
Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.
She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.
“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.
“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.
Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.
“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”
You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.
“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”
A small little laugh puffs from your lips.
“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.
Vi deflates in relief.
“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”
Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.
Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.
Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.
It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.
It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.
5—4.
The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.
She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.
You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.
They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.
Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.
The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.
“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.
Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.
“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.
Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.
So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.
She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.
“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.
“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.
She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.
“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”
You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.
“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”
She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.
Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.
“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.
When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.
“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.
You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.
She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.
“Maybe,” you whisper finally.
“Maybe what?” Vi teases.
“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.
“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.
It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.
You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.
You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.
“Puck off.”
Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.
“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.
You whine.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”
And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.
You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.
“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.
Violet only snorts a laugh.
“Whatever, good game,” she calls.
Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.
“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”
“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.
She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.
“Leave it.”
Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.
The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.
She winks.
You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.
You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.
You should come, I can pick you up.
But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.
Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.
“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.
You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!
“Yeah?”
Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.
“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.
Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.
You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.
You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.
“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.
Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.
“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.
You breath out a little laugh.
“Here I am.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”
Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—
“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”
You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.
“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”
I wanted you to want me.
“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.
She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.
“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”
It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.
You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.
“You okay?” she hums.
Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.
You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.
“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.
When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.
You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.
You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.
Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.
As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.
You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.
“What do you like to do?” she asks you.
All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.
“Uh.”
Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.
But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.
Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.
It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.
You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.
“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”
Ellie laughs benevolently.
“You have a cat?”
“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”
“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”
And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.
“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”
“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”
It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.
She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.
“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”
Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.
She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.
This is getting fucking ridiculous.
The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.
It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.
“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.
She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.
And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.
“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.
She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.
“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”
Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.
You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.
“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.
A nervous giggle bubbles.
“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.
“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”
You bite.
“If you ask nicely.”
She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.
“Can I?” she husks.
You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”
The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.
“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”
To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.
Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.
Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.
You’re staring, hard.
Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.
She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.
You relax a fraction.
“Everything okay?”
You smile, something small.
“Yeah, good,” you assure her.
The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.
You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.
“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”
Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.
“Like right now?”
You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.
“Like right now,” you confirm.
She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—
“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”
She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.
“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”
Your heartbeat skips.
“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.
Vi’s grinning wide.
“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”
And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.
It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.
“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”
You think for a moment before shaking your head.
“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”
“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.
“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.
She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”
“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”
“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”
“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.
“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”
Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.
“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.
“I admit it was a little strange, but—”
“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”
And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.
You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.
“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”
And you’re running.
Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.
She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.
sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.
Her expression screws up.
everything ok? can i do anything for you?
sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.
I’ll see you next week.
But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.
She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.
She sighs. Hard.
You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.
It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.
violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3
You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.
Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?
.
.
.
Then you add, We can smoke.
Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.
You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.
Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.
She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.
“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.
It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.
You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.
Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.
“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.
“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.
“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.
Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.
This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.
“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”
“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.
“Like?”
“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”
You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.
“Uh-huh?”
“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”
You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.
Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.
You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.
“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”
You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.
“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”
And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.
Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.
“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”
She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.
“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”
I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—
“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”
Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”
One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.
“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”
Oh.
Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.
“But?”
The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.
“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.
“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.
“Violet,” you sigh.
“Abuse what?” she husks.
“I know you—”
“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”
“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”
“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”
Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.
“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”
And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.
She clambers back into the driver’s seat.
“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.
“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”
Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.
“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”
“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”
Your breath catches.
“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.
“Why?”
“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”
It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.
“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”
“You really believe that?”
“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”
Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.
“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”
Vi’s brows furrow.
“You’re what?”
“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”
And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.
“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.
You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.
“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”
It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.
“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”
“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”
Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.
“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.
Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.
You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.
sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.
She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.
thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.
“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.
Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.
And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.
It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.
“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.
“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.
“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”
Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.
“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.
Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.
“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”
You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.
violet <3: can i see you this week?
You open Instagram.
sev.94 has requested to follow you!
sev.94 has sent you a message request!
Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.
sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this.
sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is
sev.94 sent a video.
sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.
You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.
You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.
The bracelet.
Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.
(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.
She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.
“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.
“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.
Ellie’s face scrunches.
“Huh?”
“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”
Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.
“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”
Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.
It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.
This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.
You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.
And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.
You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.
xxxx: i really miss you.
You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.
You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.
“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”
You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.
“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.
“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.
“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”
“Fuck you,” you whisper.
“What?”
“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”
Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.
“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”
You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.
“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”
Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.
The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.
You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.
The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.
Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.
“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”
You humph.
“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”
“And that’s my problem because...?”
“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”
“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”
“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”
You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.
“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”
Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.
“Violet’s in love with you.”
And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.
“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.
Ellie’s brows shoot up.
“Whoa, what?”
“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.
“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”
“There’s a video.”
Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.
Her reaches a palm out.
Show me.
You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.
She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.
“She’s fucking dead.”
When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.
It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.
Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.
She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.
“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”
The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.
Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.
It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.
And there, front and center of the student section is you.
Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.
At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.
“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”
Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.
“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.
And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.
7—5.
The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.
She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.
Her bracelet.
You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.
The crowd cheers.
Fight, fight fight!
You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.
Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.
Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.
“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.
“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.
Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”
Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.
She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.
“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.
“Hi,” you squeak.
A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.
“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.
And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.
“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”
You swallow.
“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”
“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”
You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.
“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.
“I know.”
She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.
“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”
Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.
“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”
“I don’t,” you admit.
Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.
“We could start off with the obvious.”
One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.
“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”
You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.
“Vi.”
“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.
She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.
“Pl—ease.”
“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”
“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”
Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.
The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.
Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.
“Maddie home?” she breathes.
“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”
“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”
“Oh–”
One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.
You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.
Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.
“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.
Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.
“Fuck.”
“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.
And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.
“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”
“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”
You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.
“Vi.”
Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.
“F...F—uck,” you sigh.
“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”
You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.
And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.
She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.
“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”
She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.
You cry out when her fingers slip out.
She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.
You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.
She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.
You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.
“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”
Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.
“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.
“Nnngh, fuck!”
“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”
“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”
She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.
“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.
And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.
Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”
You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”
“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”
She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.
The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.
It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.
Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.
“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”
She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.
You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.
You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.
“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.
“I know, I know.”
You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.
“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”
The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.
You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.
You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.
Everything except Vi.
Oh, you think to yourself.
Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.
But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.
The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.
You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.
You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.
“Babe?”
Your gaze snaps up.
Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.
She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”
You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.
“Thought you left,” you croak.
Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.
“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”
You whine.
“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”
Violet groans.
“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.
“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.
“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.
Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.
She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.
Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.
One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.
Can you write a fic where reader and Natasha are best friends and one day reader comes back from a mission and Nat helps reader relax by giving her a massage and reader accidentally lets out a moan turning Nat on, and things get heated ending in sex?
(You can make Nat G!P or not it’s up to you, and sorry if this is bad, it’s my first time requesting something)
You stepped into Natasha's apartment, the weight of the mission still clinging to you like a heavy shroud. Your muscles ached from the effort, and you felt utterly exhausted. Natasha, ever perceptive, immediately noticed the tension in your posture as you sank onto the couch. "You look like you've been through hell." Natasha observed, her voice gentle but teasing as she approached you.
"That's exactly how it feels.." you replied with a tired smile, leaning back against the cushions. "Everything hurts." Natasha's eyes softened as she stood behind you, her hands hovering just above your shoulders. "Let me help,." she offered, her voice a soft murmur as she began to knead the tight muscles in your shoulders.
The moment Natasha's hands touched you, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Her fingers were strong and skillful, effortlessly working out the knots. You sighed and sank deeper into the sofa as the tension in your shoulders began to melt away. "You always know exactly where the knots are.." you murmured, closing your eyes as you surrendered to the soothing rhythm of Natasha's touch.
Natasha chuckled quietly, her hands moving lower, tracing the line of your spine with deliberate pressure. "I can practically feel the tension radiating off you." she said, "You need to relax more." You nodded slightly, too content to form words. Natasha's hands were like magic, taking away the stress and exhaustion that had accumulated throughout the day. But as her hands moved lower and gently pressed the small of your back, your body responded in a way you hadn't expected. When Natasha applied a bit more pressure to a particularly tense spot, you couldn't suppress the soft moan that escaped your lips. The sound was quiet, almost involuntary, but it hung in the air between you, laden with unspoken tension.
Your eyes snapped open, your face flushing with embarrassment as you realized what had just happened. "I-I'm sorry..!" you stammered, your heart racing as you tried to pull back slightly, embarrassed that such a sound had slipped out. But Natasha didn't retreat. Instead, she paused for just a moment before continuing, her hands now moving with a new, deliberate slowness. "Don't be embarrassed." Natasha murmured, her voice taking on a seductive tone. "I like knowing that I'm making you feel good."
Your breath caught at her words, your mind spinning with the implications of what Natasha had just said. There was something in Natasha's voice, a subtle change that made it clear she had noticed more than just the moa..she had felt how your body had reacted, how you hadn't really pulled away. Her hands resumed their work, but now there was a different kind of tension in the air, one that made your pulse quicken. The touch was no longer just about relieving tension, it was intentional, exploratory, as if Natasha was testing the waters to see how far she could go.
As Natasha's hands glided lower, tracing the curve of your hips, she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "You don't have to hide anything from me." Natasha whispered, her voice soft and full of intent. "I know what you want, even if you're too shy to ask for it." Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel Natasha's hands hovering just above your hips, waiting for your response. But instead of pulling away, you found yourself leaning into the touch, your body silently encouraging Natasha to continue.
Natasha's lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as she felt your reaction. "That's right.." Natasha whispered, her voice a soft, seductive purr. "Just relax..let me take care of you."
With that, Natasha's hands glided lower, her fingers brushing the tops of your thighs, lingering just a bit too long. Your breath quickened, your body tensing slightly under the intensity of Natasha's touch. You knew you should say something, should stop this before it went any further, but the truth was..you didn't want to. The realization hit you like a wave, and you felt a warm blush creep across your skin. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the tension between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. Natasha's touch, her voice, the way she was slowly breaking down your defenses, it was all too much, too intoxicating to resist.
As Natasha's fingers slipped just under the hem of your shorts, you let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling with the intensity of the moment. "N-Natasha.." you whispered and her hands paused for a moment, her fingers gently caressing the skin just above your thighs. "Do you want me to stop?"
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. You could feel every nerve in your body yearning for Natasha's touch, the need inside you growing until it was almost unbearable. "No.." you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. "Don't stop."
That was all the encouragement Natasha needed. Her hands resumed their slow, deliberate exploration, sliding lower, closer to your center. The touch was gentle, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body, drawing another soft, involuntary moan from you. Natasha's breath was warm against your ear as she whispered, "Good girl."
Natasha's fingers moved skillfully at your entrance, drawing soft moans and shivers from you. The intensity of the moment was palpable, each touch and whisper pulling you deeper into a state of desire you hadn't fully realized. As Natasha continued, you could feel the tension building in your body, and you knew you couldn't hold out much longer without wanting more. Needing more.
"Natasha.." Your voice was a breathless whisper, filled with a mix of need and uncertainty. But Natasha didn't give you time to think. Instead, she pressed a firm, demanding kiss to your lips, silencing you with a possessive hunger that left no doubt about how much she wanted this. Natasha's hands roamed over your body with a confidence born from years of desire, her touch firm and determined, as if staking a claim.
"Shh.." Natasha murmured against your lips, her voice deep and thick with desire. "You're mine tonight." Her hands were no longer gentle as they moved lower, roughly pulling down your clothing, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. You gasped at the sudden roughness, your body tensing for a moment before surrendering to the sensation of Natasha's demanding touch. Natasha's breath was hot against your neck as she trailed kisses and nibbles down your skin, each touch filled with an intensity that spoke of her pent-up desire. She had waited far too long for this moment, and now that she had you in her arms, she wasn't going to hold back.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted this.." Natasha growled, her voice a mix of frustration and longing as she pressed harder against you, drawing a soft moan from you. Your mind was spinning, caught up in the roughness of Natasha's touch, in the way she seemed to unravel as she gave in to her desires. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, you felt a surge of excitement and power. You could feel Natasha's need, her raw, unbridled lust, and it awakened something deep within you.
When Natasha thrust into you with a hard, unrelenting stroke, you cried out, your body arching under her as she filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, Natasha was thick, stretching you in a way that made you feel utterly possessed. But it wasn't just the physical feeling that made your heart race, it was the way Natasha moved, the raw, animalistic lust that fueled every rough thrust, every satisfied growl.
"Fuck, you feel so good.." Natasha moaned, her voice hoarse as she set a merciless pace, pounding into you with a ferocity that spoke of her desperate need. "You're so fucking tight."
"Natasha..G-God..!" your words were cut off by another deep thrust, your back arching as Natasha hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Please.. don't stop!" Natasha's grip on your hips tightened, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you closer, your bodies colliding with each thrust. The roughness, the dominance, it was exactly what you had craved, what you hadn't even known you needed until now.
You moaned loudly, your voice trembling as Natasha's pace grew faster and harder, each thrust more intense than the last. "Is this what you wanted?" Natasha growled, her voice dark and commanding as she leaned down, her lips brushing your ear. "Tell me. Tell me how much you wanted this."
"Yes..Y-Yes! Natasha..I wanted this..I wanted you- fuck!" your words came out breathless, your mind barely able to keep up with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel yourself losing control, as Natasha pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Her lips curled into a wicked smile at your confession, her thrusts growing even more intense as she drove herself into you with a force that left you gasping for breath. "Good." Natasha purred, her voice deep and full of satisfaction. "Because now that I have you, I'm not letting you go." Natasha whispered, "I'm going to make sure you feel every single inch of me.
Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as you tried to hold on, to maintain control, but Natasha gave you no chance. Every movement, every thrust was designed to break you, to drive you deeper into the pleasure that Natasha so skillfully conjured.
“You belong to me..” Natasha growled, her hand burying itself in your hair, pulling your head back as she leaned over you, her breath hot against your neck. “Say it. Say that you belong to me.”
“I’m-I’m yours, Natasha..!” you gasped, your voice trembling under the intensity of the sensations crashing over you. “I’m yours..Godd..” These words seemed to drive Natasha even further. With a deep, wild growl, she turned you onto your stomach, her movements rough and demanding as she positioned you exactly how she wanted. Natasha’s hands gripped your hips firmly, her nails digging into your skin as she aligned herself with you again, thrusting into you with a force that made you cry out loudly in both pleasure and surprise.
“Damn, yes..” Natasha moaned, her voice filled with raw lust as she pounded into you with a brutal pace, each thrust hitting deep and eliciting loud, desperate moans from you. “You feel so damn good, so tight..so perfect..” Your mind was a haze of lust and pain, the roughness of Natasha’s thrusts sending shockwaves through your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. “Natasha..please, I can’t..I-I’m going to..”
Natasha’s hand slid between your legs, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing it with a rough, practiced touch that made your whole body tense in response. “That’s right.” Natasha murmured, her voice filled with command and satisfaction as she felt you tighten around her. “Come for me, I want to feel it.”
Your breath caught, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. You could feel yourself losing control, the roughness, the intensity of Natasha’s thrusts, her fingers working on your clit, it was too much, too good, and you could feel yourself falling, the climax rushing towards you with unstoppable force.
Natasha’s thrusts became more erratic, more desperate as she neared her own climax, her breath hot and uneven against your ear. “You belong to me.” she growled, her voice rough with need. “Completely mine.”
With one last, deep thrust, your world shattered. You screamed Natasha’s name, your body convulsing under the weight of your orgasm as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in Natasha’s arms. Natasha continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm with rough, powerful movements that extended the pleasure until you thought you might pass out from the intensity.
Natasha’s own orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her entire body shaking as she buried herself deep inside you, her orgasm hitting her with a force that left her gasping for air. For a moment, you were both lost in the intensity of your climax, your bodies trembling in the aftershocks. When Natasha finally pulled out of you, she collapsed beside you, pulling you into her arms with a tenderness that stood in stark contrast to the roughness of her earlier actions. You were still catching your breath, your body tingling from the aftereffects of your intense encounter.
Natasha looked down at you, her expression softening as she brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice now filled with gentle concern. You smiled up at her, your heart still racing, but filled with a deep sense of satisfaction. “More than okay..” you whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Natasha’s lips.
Natasha returned the kiss, this one slow and tender, filled with the unspoken promise of many more moments like this. As you lay there, in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel that you had crossed a linem, one that had been waiting far too long to be crossed by the two of you. And now that you had, there was no going back.
You should totally write reader being an actor too and being in avengers and her character is a love interest of Natasha but her and Lizzie have been dating forever anyway. So her character has to be in a scene where Scarlett x R are lovey dovey and kissing and she’s a little :( Like she knows it’s the job but also upsets her to see her kissing other women, even if it is a friend that’s Scarlett. After she’s so possessive, she drags her off to the dressing room to claim her🤭
Jealousy, Jealousy | Elizabeth Olsen
Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: strap usage, dirty talk, mommy kink
Word count: 1.9k
•
“Kiss me.” I whispered softly, my girlfriend looking deeply into my eyes before gently pressing her lips to mine, mindful of my injury so she didn’t hurt me.
I held her face in my hands and closed my eyes, the soft feel of her lips against mine almost bringing tears to my eyes.
Natasha pulled away and rested her forehead against my own, sighing as she realized this would probably be our last kiss.
“Cut! Beautiful, girls! Absolutely fantastic!”
The cast and crew applauded and Scarlett and I parted, smiling at each other proudly. The scene had been stressful, emotional and draining, but now it was over and it had been completed perfectly.
I looked over at my girlfriend who was watching from the sidelines, looking a little pouty. She was adorable, standing there by herself in her Wanda costume, eyeing us silently.
I made a move to walk over to her when the director caught Scarlett’s and my attention.
“Ladies, we’d like to do scene 22 again, if that’s okay with you both?”
“Sure, that’s fine.” I said, looking towards Scarlett who nodded in agreement.
We went back to our places, Lizzie’s pout deepening as Scarlett got on top of me on the makeshift bed, caressing my face softly.
“And … action!”
“You’ll be okay, I promise.”
“You can’t keep that promise.” I said softly.
“They won’t find you here.”
“They’ll never stop looking for me, Natasha.”
“I’ll kill them all before they touch you.”
“Stop,” I spoke against her lips, inching closer to her. “Just …”
She pressed herself against me, kissing me softly, slipping her tongue into my mouth. I let out a whimper, pulling her down on top of me and grabbing at her greedily.
She began to take off my shirt, kissing my neck as she groped at me.
“Cut! Thank you both! We’re done for today!”
Scarlett handed me back my costume and I smiled in thanks, slipping it back on before getting off of the bed. I rushed over to Elizabeth, excited to be done with filming and would finally be able to spend some time with her.
“Hi, baby.” I said smiling up at her, before realizing she wasn’t smiling back at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She averted her eyes, looking down at the ground instead of at me.
“Hey,” I said gently, encouraging her to look at me. “Talk to me.”
“Can we talk in my trailer? I really don’t wanna do this in front of everyone.”
“Do what?” I was afraid of her answer.
“Please, just, let’s go.”
She took me by the hand and practically stormed off with me. We made it to my trailer in record time, and I followed in behind her, closing the door behind us.
“What’s going on, Lizzie?”
She turned to face me, her chest heaving, her eyes dark.
“You seemed to really enjoy those scenes you were doing.”
I stared at her blankly, not following her.
“What do you mean?”
“It looked like you had forgotten who you belonged to.”
When her words finally registered in my brain, I flushed a deep red, realizing what she was saying.
“I would never …”
“Are you sure? Because I heard you moan for her.”
“Lizzie, I was just …”
“You were just what, hm, baby?” She approached me slowly, like a cat going after small prey.
“I was acting.” My voice was small, trembling as she pinned me up against the door, caging me in with an arm on either side of me.
“Sounded too real to just be acting.”
“P-please,” I whispered softly. “Lizzie …”
“Please what?”
I could feel her hot breath on my face and I couldn’t help but tremble with need underneath her. She was jealous and it was fucking hot.
“Show me who I belong to.”
“Have you forgotten?”
I shook my head.
She crashed her lips against my own and I melted against her, my mouth opening for her to claim me. She wasted no time in slipping her tongue past my lips and exploring my mouth. I moaned softly, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling myself up against her.
She pressed her knee between my legs and my breath hitched, pulse racing as my hips moved against her strong thigh.
“Look how needy you are. Is that for me?”
“Yes,” I whined. “Only you.”
“I shouldn’t even touch you, the way you moaned for Scarlett.”
“I-I didn’t.” I whimpered softly, looking up into her eyes desperately.
“Oh no? Shall I ask them to play back the footage?”
“No,” I blushed deeply, knowing she was right. “Don’t do that.”
“Hm.” She put pressure on my core and I let out a whine. “Sounds like you already know what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry.” I bucked against her and she pulled her leg away from me.
“You know, you’ll have to be punished now, right?”
I nodded, but pouted up at her, hoping to earn some sympathy points with her.
“Use your words, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl. Now,” she took my hand and led me over to the couch, sitting down and patting her lap. “Lay down.”
I took a deep breath and laid myself down, my ass propped up on her lap. She ran her hand over the swell of my ass before tugging on my pants and bringing them down to my knees.
“Count.”
She rested her hand on my legs before smacking my ass.
“One!” I cried out.
Another smack.
“Two!” I could feel my tears building up in my eyes.
Another hit, and another and another before I lost count and I cried, grabbing at the pillows underneath me, sobbing into them. My panties were soaked and her hand slipping between my legs to check only made them wetter.
“You liked that, huh?”
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
“You’re completely soaked.”
I was so embarrassed. My hips jerked and my body trembled as she touched me through my panties, featherlike touches that I could just barely feel.
“Poor baby. Do you need me to touch you?”
“Yes!” My voice was muffled by the cushion.
She pulled my panties down my legs, letting them meet my pants and slipped her hand between my thighs, her fingers dipping in my heat.
“You’re wet like this just from getting punished?” I nodded sheepishly. “I should punish you more often.”
“No.” I whined. “I want love and kisses.”
“Is that what you want?”
I nodded again.
“What makes you think you deserve it?”
“I’m a good girl.” I said softly. “I counted just like you asked.”
“You did.” She agreed. “But, you also lost count.”
“That’s because you did too many.”
“I did too many?” She asked with faux sympathy. “Well, how many do you think you deserved?” Her fingers moved inside me and I bit back a moan.
“None.”
“None?” Her quiet voice came out surprised. “I don’t think that’s the right answer.”
“Two?”
She pumped her fingers in and out of me twice before she stopped moving completely.
“That’s it?”
“No, more!”
“No more?” She pulled her fingers out of me and I let out a whimpering cry, my hips bucking towards her.
“No, keep going, please!”
“I’m not sure you deserve it.”
“I do. I’m your good girl.” I wiggled my ass, trying to get her to touch me again. “I’ll be so good for you.”
“I’m sure you will.” She rubbed my ass, sure to be gentle. “Do you wanna suck my cock so I can fuck you, love?”
“Yes.” I sniffled and she helped me stand up.
I kicked off my shoes, pants and panties and went over to her bag, digging around inside for the strap I knew she kept in there for situations just like this. I brought it back over to her and got on my knees, making sure to not put too much pressure on my raw ass. She stood from the couch and slipped herself out of her own costume, dropping it on the floor beside mine and stepped into the harness I was holding out for her to get into. She secured it tightly around her hips, moaning as she sat down and stroked the cock at the apex of her thighs.
“Come here, pretty girl.” She said as she grabbed me gently by the hair, pulling me towards her.
I licked my lips excitedly as I approached her, sticking my tongue out so I could lick the tip of the cock.
“That's right, baby,” she guided my head down so I would take the shaft completely in my mouth. “Take mommy’s cock.”
I tried to relax as I took her into my mouth, breathing out of my nose and closing my eyes as she hit the back of my throat. From the sounds she was making, it was almost as if she could feel what I was doing to her. Her hips were jerking upward towards me and she was moaning softly, her fingers threaded through my hair, gripping at it tightly. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she was close to release.
“I could cum just from watching that pretty mouth wrap around my cock.”
I squeezed my legs together, another gush of wetness spreading between my thighs. Sometimes I couldn’t believe the things she said to me, she was always so fucking hot.
She pulled me off of her, a trail of saliva went from my lips to the tip of her cock and she groaned at the sight.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” She helped me stand and brought me onto her lap, my legs on either side of her and her cock pressing against my core. “You’re gonna ride me, aren’t you, my pretty girl?”
“Yes, mommy,” I took a deep breath and led her to my heat, taking her slowly. “I’m gonna fuck myself on you.”
She leaned back, watching as I took her inch by delicious inch. She bit her lip and took hold of my hips, guiding me down onto her slowly.
“Look at that hungry pussy.” She said, almost in awe. “Look at how well you take me.”
I braced myself on her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin, as I fucked her. The coil in my belly tightened as I rolled my hips against her, her hands sliding down from my thighs to my pussy where she played with my clit.
My hips jerked and bucked as she thrust up into me, pulling me down onto her and filling me up with her length. I clenched around her as I came, bringing myself closer to her and capturing her lips with my own, kissing her as I rode out my high.
She kissed me back and slapped my raw ass, making me jerk against her.
“Mommy, I’m gonna cum again.” I whispered against her lips and she smiled.
“Cum for me again, baby. Cum for mommy.”
Almost on command, my body shook with pleasure, and I came against her again. She thrust up into me hard, prolonging my high and milking her cock with my greedy cunt.
“You did so good for me, baby.” She breathed against me, peppering kisses all along my face.
I smiled and nuzzled against her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, still inside me.
“You ready for a nap?” I nodded at her words and she held onto me tightly as she adjusted us on the couch, laying us down and cradling me close.
“Stay inside me.” I said softly and she nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing against me.
I sighed happily, kissing her chin and getting comfortable. Maybe scenes with Scarlett had its advantages.
Summary: Meeting an older woman through a dating app wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, especially one that’s newly divorced and experimenting.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Inexperienced!WandaxFem!Reader, fingering(r receiving), oral(r receiving), fingers in mouth, overstimulation, soft sex that turns rough, Servicetop!Wanda, fluff and angst, matched each others freak tbh
Sunlight shone through the thick glass of the car with the two of you inside, hitting your back as it accompanied the warm sensation within your body. Heat escaped your lips and into the other woman’s mouth, a constant motion for trying to find air between the deep exchange in which led to the sound of a device loudly announcing itself in the front pocket of Wanda’s pants. As you were positioned on top of her, straddling her lap, you felt the buzz beneath you.
She pulled away from you with a huff, evidently flushed whilst she looked down to the direction of her phone, waiting for you to lift yourself up so she could pull it out. Your eyes wandered down as well to the screen, wondering what it was to have disturbed the session. While she checked the notification she received, her fingers lightly and comfortingly traced your skin by the free hand pressed against the side of your thigh.
Another sigh left Wanda before she looked back up at you. The clatter of her phone being gently tossed inside the cup holder disrupted the quiet space. “Sorry, it’s the kids.”
“It’s fine,” you replied almost aloof, a faint frown present. Getting tugged toward the other seat of the car by the disappointed force of your body, she looked over to you with an unreadable expression. “It’s not like we don’t do this all the time.”
There was a certain underlying bitterness to your tone, yet it went unnoticed Wanda’s oblivious front. She hummed a response, averting her gaze from you as her rosy cheeks eased up after the practical make out. You took the wheel of the vehicle and started the engine before backing out of the secluded area in which became a routine.
The drive was overall peaceful— or so one would think from the point of view of anyone besides you two. The silence besides the noises of the pebbly road and the blasting AC was dreadful as it led you deeper into your thoughts. Thoughts of this relationship if you could even call it that.
For the past month, you and Wanda had been nothing more than what felt like two friends who happen to dabble in kissing. It was ridiculous, but how could you have any say if you weren’t outright protesting against it.
Ever since you met her outside of the app you first saw her from, you knew what you were getting into. The words of her interests and what she looked for in her bio below the picture that caught your attention more than anybody else haunted you throughout. To not have anything serious. It constantly made your stomach churn as the reminder was only forcing you to either leave or stay put in this hooked position. Wanda’s charming yet confusing character brought you to the latter.
From when you saw her through just a blinding square in the darkness of your room, she sparked something in you. The way you trailed and raked over every feature that was shown in millions of pixels, from her prominent smile lines to her perfectly refined clothing. Everything about her made you swipe right, overriding the contrasting wants between the two of you.
Yet there you were, stuck in a repeated process of being nothing more or less than whatever this was. It made your head spin how she’d at times be obviously tempted in doing more with you, but stop herself. You’ve noticed it countless of times. The acts of service in which had bundles of flowers in your hands to sudden cold turns that leave you on read. Or the way she would often fumble around with the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants only to pull away and keep up at the same pace of only locking lips. She led you nowhere but a pitiful hole that left you trapped.
As you began to drive past the many houses you became familiar with down the street, your eyes spotted a foreign car parked in the driveway of Wanda’s home. Behind the tinted windows, you saw a man sitting in front while two smaller heads peeked up from behind him in the back. You parked on the side of the sidewalk, turning to Wanda who had a subtle smile on hers.
“So I’ll see you… Saturday?”
“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you,” you responded in more a friendly but forced voice, a small smile played as you waited for her to exit the car. But surprisingly, she leaned forward and placed a short yet lasting kiss on your lips, the softness of hers making you flush. It felt sweeter than most, meaningful even. As she pulled away and swiftly turned to open the door and leave, you almost missed the matching flustered expression. Again, you were met with another puzzling action that made you internally groan.
Watching her round the corner of your car and walking to the other, the door opened with two boys the same age jumping out. Smiles on both of them as they ran over to their mom was a warming sight, along with seeing the white between her lips as she grinned brightly looking down to them hugging either side of her body.
Wanda waved a slight bye to the man as you educatedly guessed it was her ex husband dropping off the kids for their few days with her. She had told you about the shared custody, something you knew that partially bothered her as conversations upon that topic resulted in noticeable downturns of her mouth.
A tired exhale came out before you turned away and started to drive again, not wanting to deal with the emotions spinning.
——————
Few days passed by since you last saw Wanda. You two only messaged each other at random times, like now when you were headed to bed. Already lying down and under the blankets, your eyes closed for the night until a disturbance occurred.
You stirred, feeling the buzz beside your head as you laid on the sunken pillow. Lazily reaching a hand up to take hold of your phone, it lit up in your squinted eyes, revealing a message that made your heart stutter with a following swallow of nerves.
“I want to see you.”
Your thumbs twiddled above the keyboard, not knowing how or what to respond with considering how it was still before the day you two planned to meet up. But you soon typed a reply back, wanting to seem casual about it. “Right now?”
Her reply came in an instant, a certain eagerness radiating off a single word. “Please?”
Your legs moved without a thought and dragged yourself out of bed. You were focused on the request, not bothering to care about the doubts about Wanda. But then again, you were also completely unaware of the state that she was in.
On the other end of the phone, she bit her tongue. A message sent out of pure desire and impulse. In honesty, she had no idea of what she was doing with you. These common meet ups and ‘dates’ came out as a way for her to release some sort of pent up tension.
It was her first time being with someone who wasn’t her ex, the man she’d often grimace at the thought of as she began to revel in ones of you instead, and since the day she found you on a simple free app which piqued her interest. She knew most wouldn’t have been fond with the idea of doing what she had in mind, yet she lucked out as an attractive individual like you willingly followed along.
It all started off very slow, subtle gestures and small compliments that could’ve been perceived as platonic. Or atleast until a random night where she ended a simple day with a sudden first move, kissing you with a particular urgency. And then only that continued for the next counting weeks.
She was just so comfortable in where you both were, able to do things at the steady pace she wanted while you stayed compliant. Yet, now she couldn’t have helped but felt that there was maybe more that she wanted in spite of the fear and nerves of doing something she wasn’t familiar with.
The sound of the doorbell disturbed her thinking. Her body moved at a quick pace to the front door revealing the face she grew to yearn seeing everyday.
You walked in hesitantly as you watched her eyes lit up, a small exchange of greetings between you. Her hand came to the small of your back to gesture you in her home which was welcoming with ambiance. Looking around, you saw littered and deserted toys in the living room, a long train along with futuristic and faux weapons you’d see in movies. “They went back with him already?”
“Yeah, I know. So soon,” she replied sighing, closing and locking the door before facing you. “They’ll be back soon enough though.”
Wanda walked towards you, taking your hand gently as she led you upstairs. You followed with no complaint, sensing what it was that she wanted. The usual.
Stepping into her room and trailing behind, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. Everything that you had thought about over the past week stirred up inside your head, and while she closed the door behind you, her eyes roamed your body without a clue. You sat on her bed, hands clinging onto the covers hanging off. The soft click of the door was heard. And then the unexpected blurt of your nervous voice.
“Wanda?” You called out to her without thinking as she turned her head around to look at you curiously with a small hum in return. “Could we talk about us?”
Her face dropped from your question, matching the feeling of her heart as she fully untwisted her body to properly talk to you. She muttered an answer. “Yeah, what about?”
You shifted nervously on the edge of her bed, your eyes flickering between her and floor as you spoke at a low level. “I just feel like this isn’t for me.”
“W-What do you mean? Everything’s been going so well between us,” Wanda responded, her voice laced with worry and disbelief.
“Wanda, it’s been over a month of… I don’t even know what. You’ve been giving me mixed signals. And honestly, I’m not sure why I willingly agreed to do this- thing like I’m some experiment,” you retorted with an undertone of sadness along side the confusion you’ve brought to the top.
“You’re not- trust me,” she tried to keep the wavering in her voice at bay until it lowered to same wavelength of regret. “You know I’m new to this…” Her brows pulled together while she took steps towards you, her feet reaching the bed and side beside you. The mattress sunk under her weight to your right. “I-I was just worried about what you’d think if I didn’t meet your expectations, and I knew you liked doing what we did so I figured I’d get enough out of that while also maybe keeping you interested-”
You heard her rant helplessly, the nonstop shaking of her leg then concerning you. She caught the way your eyes softened, and stopped herself from furthering her disquieting explanation. Her lip quivered as she let only a few more words sum it up. “I’m serious about you, I promise.”
The beating of your heart was loud against your chest, and you kept quiet letting her words sink in. All the doubts and nights you spent overthinking disappeared in your mind at the reassurance. You looked at her, your eyes wide with yearning as she gently trailed her fingertips along your jaw after her hand came up. Your skin heated up under her touch, only prompting her to then let her smoothly tilt your head further up.
Wanda took in the expression on you, how she sensed the feeling of security as you only gazed at her with want but not making any move to make her uncomfortable. So she took the chance to initialize it instead, now knowing that she no longer wanted to keep it steady. Leaning down, she pressed her plump lips against yours and kept her hand at your cheek as her other one crept up to caress the other side.
In response, you let out sigh through your parted mouth before you felt her tongue slowly probe and enter it. A noise of both surprise and desperation left you at her sudden movements, causing her to lightly groan and press against your warm body. She moved her hands to run down your shoulders to your waist, softly but firmly holding you there. And with moments of her kissing you breathlessly, she pushed you down against the mattress as her lips chased after yours in a longing manner.
“I want you,” she whispered after parting for only a second until she came back down a lot more eagerly. You reach up for her with your hands running through her soft untangled hair as another small moan left you. Wanda continued to intertwine her tongue with yours which only let her take control and you followed her lead. Lasting for only a minute or so, she teared herself away from you, staring down at your frazzled state. Heavy breaths huffed out from both of you, hers a lot more erratic.
Soon enough you felt her tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to pull it off of yourself. In a swift motion, you did while she then took the time to take your other article of clothing off from below and leaving you in just your underwear.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to see you like this…” Wanda’s voice came out muttered and deep, like she was really lost in your presence. She gradually crawled on top of you, her knee between your thighs as it pressed against your clothed center. You gasped at the sudden friction, already feeling as if you soaked through and made evidence of your wetness on her pants. As Wanda kneeled for a second, she took off her shirt and tossed it to the same direction of your clothes. She came and lowered back down to make contact with your lips again, her arms supporting her at the sides of your head.
You ushered a response to her, breathing heavily once you were able to part from the heated interaction. “Longer than me?”
“Probably,” she cracked a smile at your reply, your soft tone sounding sweeter than ever through her ears. “I just didn’t know it yet.”
With her hand coming down between your legs, she pulled her knee away and looked down to see the damp fabric. Her fingers grazed the darker spot of your panties, applying a light pressure to feel you more. You let out a moan in return, the sensation only heightening as she started to kiss and suck at the pulse of your neck.
The teasing lasted shortly before you felt her pull the cotton to the side to access your pussy. Two fingers pushed between your folds, a slight intake of air heard from Wanda due to your arousal leaking on her. You basked in the feeling of her gently rubbing against your sensitive areas before probing your entrance which welcomed her greatly.
She let one finger slip in, your walls already clenching around it. You bit your lip after the long anticipation, muffling another sound of pleasure as she continued to go in and out at a slow pace before stretching you out with another finger. She watched you from above to check for any signs of discomfort. “Does this feel okay?”
Her sweet and soft tone made you pay more attention to her expression, noting the furrow of her eyebrows. You were reminded of her inexperience as she showed concern over what she was doing. The careful movements inside your walls took some time to turn into light curling against that one spongey spot. “Mhm… you’re doing really good.” Your muttered and hushed words caused a sudden spur in Wanda. The praise fueled her to go deeper, hitting another point that drove you further in heat.
More wetness pooled beneath you and on her hand, making the sounds from below anything but innocent. Her lips returned to your neck, peppering lower to your collarbone and nibbling against the soft skin. You jerked up to meet her hand to find more friction which led to her thumb to then go upward to your clit, smoothly bringing you closer to the built up tension within your lower tummy. She didn’t stop her ministrations at all, ignoring the growing soreness of the muscles as the tip of her tongue ran over the dark marks she created.
The rise of volume and the desperate grip you had on Wanda had her in a daze as she found it all so addicting. It made her question why she didn’t give in sooner.
“W-Wanda, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, throwing your head back as she pumped into you harder. Tears welled up at the pressure, climbing up to the feeling of ecstasy. And the hum of her deep voice brought you over the edge.
“Uh huh, cum for me,” her breath fanned your flesh before her teeth dug into it, another mark made that well represented her possession over you.
At her soft demand, you squeezed around her fingers which forced their way to keep curling at your g-spot. Mixed moans left both of you, and filled up the room until she slowly came to stop, letting you ride out your orgasm before her fingers stilled.
As the tense feeling began to wash away, you were met with light kisses pattered around the side of your neck, trailing slowly up your jaw. You smiled faintly as Wanda’s lips separated from your skin to instead look down at your hazed expression. Again, her smile lines deepened as she couldn’t help but show more satisfaction of what she made you do. Carefully, her fingers left your drenched hole, causing you to also inwardly pout in disappointment at the emptiness following.
Wanda’s hand came from between your legs and you stared at it with earnest, noticing how a slick layer covered mainly two of her long thin fingers. Without thinking, your own hand came to gradually capture her wrist, making her caught off guard before your weak hold left her content. She gazed down at you curiously and watched with intent at how you sluggishly dragged it to your face. Eyes widening just enough for you spot it, Wanda clenched her teeth as she swallowed down a breath seeing you open your mouth and elope around her digits.
You continued to look up at her with doe-like eyes, desperation filling them and only making the warm sensation in her stomach on the verge of bursting. The feeling of your tongue moving against her and the tip running through crevices combined with the tear stains shimmering from the soft hue of light beginning to dry up pushed her in a state she didn’t recognize. Like an unknown switch was turned on in the back her mind.
Through your blurry vision, you saw the way her green orbs shifted side to side in a shaky but subtle manner, likely studying every feature on your face which kindled her further. With her still in your mouth, you sucked lightly, taking off and tasting all of your arousal. Once you were done, the grip on her wrist tightened loosely to pull her fingers back out, a line of spit connecting you both as the two of you witness each other’s reactions to everything.
Wanda let out an unstable breath. Her bottom lip shook lightly before being trapped between her teeth. Letting the silence sink in for only a few more moments, her muttering voice broke the building suspense. “God, you’re so pretty… I can’t fucking take it.”
With your lips still parted, she leans back in to eagerly capture them, her tongue immediately darting in to taste your arousal. Her hand came up to firmly yet gently hold your face in place by your jaw. Smalls gasps left the two of you and into each other’s mouths, leaving hardly any room to breathe. You could tell how much more she wanted this by the way she hungrily roamed the open spaces inside.
Laying weak underneath Wanda’s body, you felt her lift herself up steadily as she lightly grazed your bottom lip with her front teeth before separating. While you were still in a daze, she let go of you momentarily to lower herself. Her knee between your legs moved down as she placed and trailed light kisses from your neck to all the way to your tummy. “So perfect, baby.”
You felt your spine shudder from her hushed words, feeling the heat radiating off of her as she continued teasing you down to your inner thighs. Smaller bites led to her canines being sunk into your soft flesh as she marveled at the way you let out quiet but effective sounds and held onto the pillow you laid on. Spit followed from her lazily dragging her tongue dangerously close to your cunt, causing a subtle huff leaving you from the rising frustration of not getting straight to the point. The corners of Wanda’s lips tugged upward smugly at your growing desperation. She pulled just millimeters away for a moment and looked up at you, observing the slight frown on you from the loss of contact.
“Wanda, please,” your tone comes out as whiney, tempted to just grab onto her soft locks to pull her into the source of slickness she caused. “Please, I need you so bad.”
Her eyes noticeably darkened as she glared at the pleading expression, taking in the way your brows were creased together along with the lower lip just slightly sticking out. But your voice just pulled everything together.
Her hands pulled down your panties completely and threw them down to the floor. Opening her mouth again and not wasting anymore time, Wanda’s tongue was quickly coated with the taste of you again. A soft moan escaped her because of it as her arms came up to wrap around your thighs securely. Her tongue ran up and between your folds, each stride becoming more tantalizing. She barely reached your sensitive bud, and you only responded with another needy sound.
“Shh, just let me make you feel good,” Wanda shushed you, keeping her pace slow as she relished the taste. After a few more strokes up your folds, she made contact with your clit and lapped in an unhurried and deliberate manner. You gasped in response as the feeling pushed you further back into a heightening pressure within your lower body. She continued the ministrations, quickly pulling you close into another orgasm as she switched lightly sucking and licking your bundle of nerves to plunging back into your dripping hole.
Wanda feels you tightening around her tongue as she delved deeper into you, reaching spots that made you writhe beneath her. “Mhm, are you close again baby?”
You hear her soft voice alongside feeling the hum against your pussy. Pathetically, you nod with vigor and tug at her hair in your grip, feeling the impending climax the more she continued her movements. Despite her lack of experience and without your guidance, she was unexpectedly able to hit all your favorite spots.
“Beg for it.”
Her words came out more firm, prompting another twitch from your clit in her mouth. “P-Please, Wanda please. I wanna cum on your tongue.”
She smirked inwardly at the desperation reeking from you and worked on helping you to fall off the edge a second time. By the quickened pace and the ability to meet her lips by moving your hips with abandon, it wasn’t long until the pressure was released and left your body shuddering. The sounds that came out of you were loud and pleasant to Wanda’s ears. She lapped at you at a slower pace to drag out your pleasure, feeling the constant push as you kept grinding against her stained mouth.
Brought back to reality as you came down, the feeling of Wanda’s tongue was still relentless. She didn’t pull away at all but rather began to pace herself back to the previous speed. You whimpered noisily, trying to move away from her tongue attacking your extremely sensitive nub again. Yet, you were met with an aggressive tug as she tightened her hold around thighs and had your lower half hit the bed again. “Mm-mm, stay still for me.”
You felt yourself throb again at the sternness of her tone despite the growing and almost overwhelming overstimulation. Yet, it wasn’t like it mattered since her hold on you was anything but easy to get out of. You were only able to cry out as your weak arms pushed at her head to no avail. “Wanda, fuck- I can’t…”
She didn’t once falter under your straining whine to have her stop, triggering another upcoming sensation. Your futile attempt soon turned into a performance of need, your back arching from the heat of the sheets under you while her hands pinned your hips down, and the dull nails clung onto you. Moans spilling got increasingly louder from both of you, and for Wanda mostly from the little pain she received by your continuous pulling at her bunched up strands in your grasp.
She sensed how close you were again by the way you sounded and the way your body reacted. All of it becoming more recognizable under her touch. Your swollen clit was between her lips while her hand crept back between your closing thighs around her head, pushing her fingers into your pussy again. And rather starting off slow inside of you, she kept up a speed and force that matched her suckling, bringing you to a third high that left you shaking and moaning pitiably.
Wanda licked your cunt slowly as she pulled out again, her face willingly trapped because of you squeezing around her without control. She eased up on you, her hold less tight though leaving evidence of her nails that dug into you. It took a moment for you to regulate your breathing, pants filling the now silent room.
You sighed out heavily and your hands loosened their grip to allow Wanda to get up from between your trembling legs. With her face in view, you saw her mouth and chin covered with a mix of your wetness and her own saliva. A small laugh of adoration found its way out you at the sight, even if you felt exhausted. “You’re a mess.”
“Like you look any better,” she playfully countered while grinning at your disheveled appearance laid out underneath. As she crawled up to meet you eye to eye, your hand raised up to her chin, gently wiping it with your thumb. She stayed still for you and looked down lovingly, feeling like it was only you two who were present in the world, staring at each other longingly with no disruption. Though shortly, she softly spoke again, worry etched on her without warning. “That wasn’t actually too much for you, was it?”
“No, don’t worry. It wasn’t,” I quickly hushed her concern, your hand coming down as your arm wrapped around her neck to pull down. “It was perfect.”
You felt Wanda’s body loosen as tension left her shoulders, following with a warm smile. Matching her expression, your arm continued to apply a light pressure for her to lower herself, only stopping once your lips met in another loving peck.
“Stay here. I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Wanda said as she got up from you, excusing the look of disappointment from pulling away that she saw. Once you muttered the word of approval, she stood up from the bed and towards the bathroom where you heard water running for a short amount before she swiftly came back.
Wanda approached with a wet hand towel. You lifted your head to watch her intently as she settled back on the mattress, kneeling between the small space between your legs.
“Open up for me,” she commanded with a sweet tone, patting your thigh lightly before you spread a bit more, revealing the mess that was left surrounding your core. “Good girl.”
Splayed out before her, you couldn’t have helped but felt a little too exposed. You looked down at how she gazed at your sensitive area, wiping and soothing your skin with the warm cloth. Her eyes were full of admiration and love replacing the previous lust as she only now yearned to take care of every part of you, all while being able to see the vulnerable state your in despite how she thought of how beautiful you were.
You looked away and shyly waited for Wanda to finish, a growing warmth on your cheeks evident. She took a good portion of time slowly getting you all cleaned up. And once you noticed the longer period without the feeling of anything against you, your head turned back to see her toss the towel to the side carelessly as she never once averted her eyes from you.
You expected her to come forward and lay beside you, but instead she leaned down again with her head between your two limbs. It caught you off guard until you felt a gentle but firm pressure from her soft lips against your pussy, causing your stomach to flare up once again with an intense fluttering. The feeling of the kiss lingered after she pulled away, leaving you in a more patterned daze. She came back up soon and slowly made her way to your side as she quickly snaked her arms around your waist to have you pressed up to her chest, and ignored your flustered self.
“My pretty girl,” Wanda murmured, her hand to your head as she patted down the frizzed up hair. Your scent filled her senses, and she wanted nothing else than to bask in the moment with you. “You did so well for me.”
In response, you smiled against her skin and only clung onto her tighter. Until a teasing remark leaves you at the thought of her unexpected skill and care. “Now I’m starting to think you’re lying about this being your first time with a woman.”
“Oh please, I’m not lying,” she chuckled a bit, tracing your bare skin at the curve of your side. It’s true though, being with you made everything come natural to her, similar to how you’ve been a big factor of her life flowing so much easier. Even if it’s been barely a month.
A moment of silence passed through while the two of you soaked in the feeling of being tangled comfortably under the covers. The subtle grazing of her fingertips soothing you into a state of sleepiness. Yet, you only wanted to stay awake and appreciate it longer. Wanda sighed at your constant shuffling and pulled your head away from her body, tilting it up so she could see you. She observed your tired features and lightly rubbed the side of your cheek. “Why don’t you fall asleep? You look tired, sweetheart.”
“I wanna be awake with you.”
“I’ll be right here next to you in the morning. We’ll have all the time tomorrow, okay?” She smiled at your adorable demeanor, slightly wanting to pamper you more in spite of your sleepy self. In response, you nod up and down before leaning up for another quick kiss. Her smile grew into a grin as you pulled away, and she snuggled you into the crook of her neck as you felt your eyelids finally drop. Wanda muttered a few last words in your ear and caressed your upper body, pulling you into unconsciousness without a single worry.
Warnings: dubcon, noncon, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pet names
Summary: She looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep. And then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. Wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder.
Masterlist
Sometimes, Wanda sees the future.
The glimpses catch her off guard, always appearing without a warning, always vague and always too short to properly comprehend. She only understands them once they come true, after hours of contemplation. That doesn't apply to you.
The first vision you bring her is short and simple to understand - a glimpse into a few days after the New Year's, you, laughing at some silly joke, and her, watching you from afar with a content smile on her lips.
It brings her a sense of comfort. A sense of peace.
The second vision brings nothing, but trouble.
She's late to one of Team-bonding nights Steve made everyone attend, and you're already there, sitting on the floor with your legs tucked under you. She walks up to you, intending to sit by your side, only to gasp when a vision hits her just as her hand comes to rest on your shoulder.
Your face is a mess of mascara and tears, you lips red and swollen, wide open, with saliva and who knows what else dripping down your chin.
She blinks out of it, nearly falling to the floor. You look at her with concern in your eyes, frowning. She struggles to breathe, avoiding your eyes, her face burning with shame.
“What's wrong?” Your voice rings in her ears.
What's wrong? It echoes insides her head and she shuts her eyes forcefully, but the image of you on your knees is still there.
She manages a strangled smile, one that does nothing to convince you, and abruptly walks away, planting herself on the couch near Sam instead.
She avoids you for the rest of the week, hiding in her room. The image of you on your knees for her, your pupils blown with arousal, haunts her, makes her treacherous fingers skim past her underwear and slide inside.
She would be the last to admit her attraction to you, no matter what Nat says about you returning her feelings. The spy claims she sees what the witch doesn't, but her words were never enough for Wanda to muster up the courage to admit her feelings. Now, though, she knows for sure. Her visions are always true.
The information makes her chest flutter. You will be hers. Soon.
Another vision hits her months later, when she finally got over the first one, finally able to stay in your vicinity without completely drenching her panties.
You're cuddling on her bed, watching one of those slashers you're so obsessed with. She grinds her jaw every time you comment on how hot the lead actress is. But then, long after midnight when the movie is almost over, you grow quiet, your body limp in her arms. She looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep.
And then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. Wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder. Your tank top is pushed down to reveal your supple breasts, pink nipples glistening with her saliva. She pinched one between her fingers, enjoying the way your back arches, your ass pressing against her pelvis.
The vision disappears as quickly as it came, leaving her out of breath and painfully aroused. She gulps, praying her hammering heart does not wake you, her hands hovering over you, unsure.
She closes her eyes, biting her lip hard. She needs to get a grip before she does something she'll regret.
But you're right there, nestled between her legs. The tank top is the one from the vision. She can see your hardened nipples strain against the fabric.
Would it be so bad to tug it down and touch? You will be hers soon, she knows it, so what would it matter if she gets a glimpse before it happens? She hisses in a breath, fighting with herself. It isn't right, but the temptation is too strong.
She'll just look, she decides. One small peak to satisfy her curiosity. It won't be any different from seeing one of her visions, she tells herself.
Slowly her fingers clasp the hem of your top, gently tugging it down. She licks her lips, swallowing down a moan when she finally sees your perfect breasts, so soft and oh so perfect.
How can she help herself now?
She cups your left breast, enjoying the weight of it in her hand, and squeezes softly, her thumb circling your perky nipple. You shift between her legs, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck, and sigh contentedly. She lets out a breath, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her other hand playing with the hem of your shorts almost unconsciously.
She'll stop herself before she gets too far, she's sure of it.
A thought occurs in her head, and she releases your breast and licks her thumb, coating it in her spit. It's not the same as having her mouth on you, but it's the next best thing, so she presses her wet thumb against your nipple, smearing her saliva.
You whine in your sleep, and she sees your legs clench. She startles, and grips you harder, making your hips buckle.
“Shh,” she whispers in your ear, pressing a wet kiss just under it, “it's alright, kitten. It's just a dream.” She can't stop herself now, continuing a wet path of kisses down your throat, biting gently at the juncture of your neck. “Fuck,” she breathes, when you arch into her, your breast spilling from her hand. Her fingers disappear under the waistband of your shorts.
She closes her eyes tightly when she's met with slick, wet heat, her finger gently circling your clit, teasing. You gasp, your brows furrowed, but you don't wake, mumbling something incomprehensible in your sleep.
“Good girl,” she praises your sleeping form, daring to push her fingers inside, stretching your tight pussy around her long digits. “Good fucking girl,” she rasps, panting in your ear, grinding against your ass in search of relief.
She finds the right angle, buckling her hips and thrusting inside you. Slowly and carefully. Holding you tight against her front.
You can't wake up, not now.
Your whines turn into strangled moans and your hips move against her hand. She savour the sight of you. You're hers.
Your cunt clenches as you come, your breathing short and ragged. She's follows suit, burrowing her face in your hair, her walls clenching around nothing.
You turn in her arms, throwing your leg over her hips, and her hand slips out of your shorts. You look so perfect like this, your chest rising with each panting breath you take, your nipples begging for her mouth. Your face scrunches up when she presses her thigh between her legs, and you try to move away, but she doesn't let you. She touches your lower lip with her wet fingers, and pushes inside the heat of your mouth.
“Good kitten,” she whispers feverishly, “You did good, my darling.”
You sag against her, and she feels your wetness drip down her leg. Wands frowns, feeling an undeniable evidence of what she's done.
You'll have questions when you wake up.
That simply won't do.
She shifts, placing you on her pillows, pushing your hair away from your face. She hovers over you, drinking in the sight.
She kisses your chest once, twice, thrice and now she can't stop herself. She needs to worship.
She takes a nipple into her mouth, sucking gently, and moans around it. So fucking perfect. She stays playing with your breasts, nibbling and sucking and licking, leaving it red and wet with her spit.
Your shift away, and she pushes up on her elbows, watching your eyes flutter. Panic explodes in her chest. She rises, face to face with you, and watches your eyes open.
“Wands?” You mumble, your eyes falling shut again.
“It's alright, baby, go back to sleep,” she cooes, nuzzling your cheek, “it's just a dream.”
You nod sleepily, and turn to lay on your stomach, snoring lightly.
She waits a few moments, watching you sleep, and battles with herself. She almost got caught, should she continue?
She licks her lips, and traces patterns at the low of your back. She can't leave you like this now, she decides.
She tugs down your shorts along with your underwear, and pushes a pillow under your hips, gulping when she finally sees your drenched pussy, your pink lips glistening with arousal.
She doesn't waste another moment and presses her mouth against your heat, moaning at the taste. You shudder, your whimpers muffled against the pillow, but she can't be stopped now. She licks your folds, drinking in your wetness, her tongue circling your entrance. She pushes inside without a second thought, and presses her thumb against your clit.
You're simply devine.
Her tongue moves inside you, filling you up, and you're so close already, she can feel your walls clenching around the wet muscle. She hums, palmimg your ass hard enough to leave a bruise, and plays with your clit. Wetness gushes out of you and she cleans you right up, starved.
She licks her way out of your tight cunt, sucking in your clit and pushing her finger inside instead. You moan loudly, grinding against her face, and with one last thrust you come, shaking in her hold.
She pulls out carefully, pressing tiny kisses to your folds, collecting the last bits of your arousal, before sliding your shorts and underwear back up. She wipes her mouth, not bothering to hide her wide smile and lays down beside you, almost purring when you latch onto her.
She pulls you against her chest, enveloping you in her arms, and closes her eyes. She'll worry about the consequences tomorrow.
What about Nat taking you for the first time, being soft and careful but losing control for a bit and filling you up to the brim 🥴
sorry for the wait anon, i needed to get rid of my uni things, but here we go! it came out longer than i imagined, hope you enjoy either way!
warnings: sex scenes, dom/sub dynamic, g!p nat, daddy!nat, p in v, gxg, breeding, blowjob, fingering, orgasm, age gap, dirty talks.
daddy! nat was a completely a soft bear during your first time. you weren’t nothing but an inexperienced little virgin thing and natasha was this older woman who clearly had lots of sex in the past.
she took so much care of everything. the bed had towels for the eventuality of blood loss, bottles of water were lined up on the bedside table, the room was in the right temperature, a hand towel ready to wipe you off and she already set items ready for the aftercare. everything was under her control and ready to assure every of your comfort.
wet, needy and ready you were on her big bed being eaten and stretched out for the first time, at every whimper of discomfort natasha would softly hush you and press a kiss on your thighs. she was slow, lovely, giving you time to process and let her taste you in the most delicate ways.
natasha could’ve swear she would have been happy to die between your milky thighs with her mouth and fingers deep inside you, the sweet taste of your juices tempting and the most sinful sounds rolling off your tongue were driving the older woman drunk and lustful.
she was there with you, living the moment, living the passion, living the love flowing between you. starting to memorise your body that eventually became her favourite place to be, to mark, to own.
her knee sunk into the bed and while you were worshipping her plump breasts, she was jerking herself off with grunts and moans. your pussy was soaked thanks to the two orgasms she already gave you.
she shifted both of you on the bed, her back propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed. fully naked, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. her breath came in shallow gasps as natasha watched you, who was positioned between her legs.
natasha’s cock was standing erect and ready as you leaned closer, breath hot against the warm flesh. you kissed the tip hesitating, lips soft and teasing. your daddy eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips.
“oh, bunny,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire.
your tongue darted out, feeling bolder to giving the tip a series of playful kitty licks looking up at the redhead for guidance which was immediately given as big veiny hands found their way into your curls, gently tugging to guiding your movements.
“look at me, baby girl,” natasha commanded, her voice firm yet tender. you obeyed, gaze locking with her and slowly taking the cock in your mouth starting with just the tip, tongue swirling around it before starting to take more, inch by inch like a drug.
the woman’s hips bucked involuntarily, desperate to thrust deeper into your wet and welcoming mouth, hands tightened in your hairs, trying to maintain control. “take it all, bunny. I want you to take every inch.”
your eyes filled eventually with tears as the cock reached the back of the throat, but you didn’t pull away because you wanted to make your daddy proud, so you relished the sensation of pleasing her, the power and submission blending into a heady mix that made your own body tingle with arousal. bobbing head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, tongue working the length of the massive venous cock.
natasha’s breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate. “fuck–you’re amazing, baby girl. just like that.” her fingers twisted in your hairs holding you in place firmly.
you could feel the twitching of the prick as the heavy balls of the woman prepared to release its contents, you redoubled efforts, mouth moving faster, eyes never leaving natasha’s. the connection between you was electric, the intensity almost overwhelming.
“daddy needs you to swallow, bunny,” natasha growled, her hips trembling with the effort to stay still, she was so close and only god knows how she wanted to pin you down and fuck your mouth with mercy. “can you do that for me?”
you nodded as best you could, eyes filled with determination and devotion. with one final, deep thrust, natasha released her load, filling your mouth with the warm, sticky cum. you gagged slightly but quickly composed yourself, swallowing every drop as your daddy had commanded.
the redhead whole body shuddered with pleasure as she watched you. “that’s my good girl. you took it so well, baby.” pulling you up for a kiss, your mouths meeting in a passionate, messy collision. the taste of the cum was still on your lips, and natasha licked it off, savoring the flavor.
"you're so beautiful, baby," natasha murmured against your lips. she kissed her way down to your body again and her thumb found your clit, teasing your folds. you moaned softly, body arching towards the woman.
natasha made sure you was wet enough, she was so worried to hurt you like you were made of glass. patting the tip of her cock against her pussy and brushing the tip gently over her entrance, she breathed softly "are you ready, my little one?.”
you nodded with eyes filled with trust and need. "yes, daddy. please."
the redhead positioned herself and slowly pushed the tip inside you, inch by inch, ensuring you didn't feel too much pain, her lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, muffling your mutual groans of pleasure and then finally she bottomed fully inside you.
"you're doing so well, princess," she praised, her voice tender and head resting on your neck, you were so warm and tight and natasha was already on the brick of blowing. she kissed you softly while you gripped at her back with nails digging in slightly.
natasha, once sure the pain went away, began to thrust gently, setting a slow and intimate pace. each movement was filled with love and adoration, her hips moving rhythmically against yours. "you feel so good, bunny. so perfect.”
you whimpered, body trembling with pleasure and need for more. "daddy! oh–more, more. please!”
natasha increased her pace gradually, her thrusts becoming more intense. "fuck–baby, i need to cum inside of you. i need to fill you up, sweet girl. daddy needs to claim you." she continued to move, her body pressed intimately against yours until she felt the climax building.
with a final thrust, the redhead released the cum inside your warm pussy, humping softly to ensure it stayed within you. "take it all, princess. you're so good for me," natasha praised, her voice full of pride and affection.
foreheads touching, breath ragged and sweet smiles painted your lips and bodies locked close, natasha caressed your hair, kissed you gently, and whispered sweet nothings. "you're my everything, bunny. you did so well," her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
she kissed you deeply again and again. your connection building stronger than ever, as you held each other close, the world outside fading away in the warmth of your shared love.
hey! m curious what quiet!r and Wanda would look like? like during sex but also during softer moments too? like a more reserved r who doesn't really show emotions but she is grateful for whatever she gets so she kinda puts on an act to make sure the person who gave her the gift knows she appreciates it, but with Wanda she can see right through that and is like "u don't have to do all this honey , i know you like it <3" but also alsooo in sexual context , i feel like she'd feed off the silenter cues as well like biting ur lip, letting out little shaky breaths, trying to keep ur eyes open..
sorry this concept just came to me 😵💫 -🐇
i love this concept so much as it speaks to me ❤️🩹
sooo on a daily basis when it is just the two of you, she really feels complete with you since she is a yapper (lol) and you're just the perfect listener!
she doesn't mind it if you don't talk that much or just like talk to her about your day in a few details, but sometimes when she snaps out of her train of thoughts and rambling and she feels kinda of bad for not allowing you a chance to express yourself and just carrying the conversations on her own talking about herself. she would encourage you to speak for a bit, and giving you the chance to express yourself.
on those times where she'd just want to hear you talk about your day and when you try to match her energy by laying out as much details as you remember. however, she is just so good at seeing rigt through you and she notices the nervousness and the uneasiness you feel when your speaking while she looks at you so attentively, following each and every word coming out of your mouth.
not being used to talking about yourself that much, or at all, really made you believe that your words aren't that important nor are they that interesting, and ultimately leading you to be more reserved and not much of a talker. but with wanda there for you, you slowly started to like talking about alot of things that you never shared with anyone else before, speaking to her truly warms your heart, and she feels so proud of herself for finally getting you to trust her and be comfortable around her enough to talk about whatever with her.
and if the two of you are out, hanging out with friends and others, she wouldn't really cling to you, as to not appear too controlling of you, tho she likes to be by your side just so she can do most of the talking on your behalf, so you don't get too overwhelmed and overstimulated. she knows how often it can be mentally exhausting for you to engage in so many conversations and especially with new people so she likes to step in to save you :( and if your tired from listening to people she notices that two and she'd immediately excuse the two of you to somewhere more private so you can loosen up a little bit.
nsfw under the cut!
the first few times when you and wanda had sex, she did not mind you being quiet as it was normal for you to feel nervous at the start of your relationship, and she did not want to push you out of your comfort zone, but with time it became her life mission to make you trust her and be comfortable with her enough as to be more vocal during more intimate times.
her being able to make you moan and beg for her hit different when you're not usually vocal on a daily basis, and so it truly excite her when she gets to turn you into a moaning mess for her.
wanda thrusted her strap into you as she had you under her in missionary, your legs over her hips caging her, and urging her to go deeper. her words so sweet, contrary to her brutal movements. and the pleasure she was giving you showed you stars.
you burry your head deeper into the crook of her neck to muffle your noises, while she had her mouth inches away from your ear, whispering about how of a good girl you are for her. wanda tends to be even more vocal during intimate times, even when she is the one pleasuring you, her moans and encouraging words are the only sounds to be heard, alongside the slapping sounds of her hips on your hips of course.
you felt so good when all your senses where invaded by her, you bit your lips as to hold back your whines, however, she was fucking into you just right, hitting that sweet spot of yours repeatedly and her hands roamed your body so possessively, you felt so overwhelmed with desire. you panted lowly. and as your hands snaked around her upper half, your naked chest rubbed against hers, and that was your last straw as you little out a weak whimper. wanda quickly turned her head to look to your now flushed red face, you felt so small under her gaze, she smiled so proudly when she was finally able to make you let out any lewd noises. you quickly raised your hands to hide your face behind them but wanda was quick to hold your hands in hers, and she looked down at you with so much adoration.
"no baby please, no need to be embarrassed,"
"please you sound so damn hot, i want to hear more, please baby,"
Warnings: Smut, Wanda and Nat have a penis, Soft!Nat, Rough!Wanda, Heat, Mating mark, Knotting, Breeding, Someone tries to attack reader but Wanda and Nat stop them, Hints to lactation kink, I really don't think there is much else.
A/n: I really hope this isn't shit. I really liked writing this. Wanda isn't too rough in this one but definitely rougher than Nat. Just sweet alphas who don't treat their sweet Omega like shit.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The door chimes causing your gaze to lift to the opening door. You’re shocked to see the people walking through the door. The Avengers have just walked through the door of your small bakery. Leading the group is the pack leader along with her mate. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, two alpha’s. The rest of the mostly alpha pack followed close behind. Normally so many alpha’s in an area won’t bother you but with you so close to your heat and being an unmated omega is making it difficult with all of them around. You put on a mask knowing you need to be your best when the most famous people in the world are in your bakery.
With a wide smile you greet the group. “Hi, I’m Y/n. We have a wide array of baked goods for you to choose from. Just let me know what you would like and I’ll get them all ready for you.” Wanda tilts her head looking at you curiously but you just give her soft smile back. Nat is also watching you but you can’t seem to read her. The gaze of both the alpha’s on you causes a light dusting of pink to cover your cheeks. The rest of the group looked around to see what they wanted to eat.
Nat clears her throat. “Everyone wait outside.” She demands the rest. “But I want to look.” Tony whines. Nat turns to look at the rest. “I said wait outside. We will get everyone something.” Nat’s demanding tone has your inner omega wanting to submit causing you to shrink in on yourself. As the rest go to wait outside the two alpha’s turn back to you noticing you’re dropped head and smaller form. “I’m so sorry mega. I thought it would be easier without everyone.”
You wanted to be thankful for what she did but at the same time you need to be able to handle a room full of alpha’s if you want to have a successful business. But you know she just meant well by her actions. You lift your head and give her a small smile. Brushing off your previous distress and ready to help the two women with everything they need.
With less alpha’s in the room their scents invade your senses. One of their scents laced with cinnamon and spices, reminding you of fall. The other smelling of sweet vanilla. Both of their scents are intoxicating already. Both women are very attractive but you know you can’t think like that they are already a mated pair and they probably wouldn’t want an omega like you. So you push it out of your mind and focus on running your business.
“What can I get for you?” You ask the women. They look around for a minute before Nat speaks up. “Two of everything.” You can’t help the look of shock at the woman's order. “A-are you sure?” She gives you a kind smile. “Yes please.” You nod and start moving around to get everything you need. “Of course. I’ll have everything ready for you in a few minutes.” You move around the area gracefully. Throwing in a few extras as you go. Wanting nothing more than to satisfy the Avengers.
You can feel their eyes following you but you are in your groove currently. Once you are done with everything they come up to the counter and Natasha pulls out her wallet. You wave your hands and shake your head. “No, no, no. It’s on the house, my treat. You guys do so much for the city. The least I can do is give you guys some food.” Nat shakes her head back at you. “I’m not sure your boss would like that. Also I insist.” She starts pulling out money ready to pay. “I’m actually the owner so I can give you whatever I want.” You tell the alpha. You would normally never talk back to an alpha, especially an Avenger but you want to get your point across. But neither of them are going to take no for an answer. Wanda takes some money out of Nat’s hands and gives it to you. You look down at the cash and back up at the alpha’s. You can tell by the looks on their faces that they will not take no for an answer. So you look back down at the cash in your hand and gasps. “This is way too much.” In your hand is almost $500 dollars, way more than what it cost to get everything.
Both alpha’s shake their heads. “Keep it. You deserve it.” Wanda says. She has the softest and kindest smile you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t think I can take this.” You stutter trying to hand some of the money back but neither of them will have it. Wanda takes your hands in hers. “Please take it.” You look at her hands around yours and then back up to her face. A small blush covering your face when you nod. “Okay.” You say barely above a whisper. She smiles before she and Nat take the baked goods, making their way out leaving you shocked.
That is how your friendship with the Avengers started. After that day you saw at least one of them once a week. Sometimes alone and sometimes the whole team would come in. You built a friendship with each member but as they continue to come a crush on the two women formed. They were always so sweet and kind with you. Nat plays up a big persona of being hard and little emotion but you can see right through that facade. Which only makes your crush grow stronger, but you know you can’t act on it. So you leave it at that just a crush.
With the Avengers frequenting your bakery your business picks up exponentially. You had to hire more employees to help you keep up. One of those being your best friend Kate Bishop. You thank the Avengers for their business and the fact they have brought in more customers for you. Always trying to give them free food but none of them ever take it.
Today wasn’t like other days. You had 3 call offs and your heat was quickly approaching. You thought that you had a few more days but as the day drags on you know you won’t make it. You have already called Kate who had the day off hoping she could cover. She of course said she would but it would take her some time to get there. So now you’re fighting your heat and just waiting for her to get here.
The room is filled with alpha's, some of them pausing to look at you. A hungry look in their eyes as they realize what is going on with you. You want to run and hide but you can’t leave the store unattended so you suck it up the best you can. That is until a wave of burning stabbing pain hits your lower abdomen. You wrap your arms around your stomach, hunching over as you hold in a whimper. You don’t even hear the ringing of the bell as another patron enters the building. Another stronger wave has you crumbling to the ground, a whimper escaping your lips.
You can now faintly hear a commotion but you can’t focus on the words or voices. You look up seeing an alpha about to jump over the counter when they are pulled back harshly. There is a commanding roar of an alpha that causes you to whine and bare your neck waiting for the alpha to approach. You wish your inner omega was stronger but with your heat here you can’t control it. Two alpha’s approach you quickly crouching down next to you. You let out another whine and strain your neck more.
“Oh milaya, none of that.” Wanda’s hand cups your cheek. Both of their scents invade your senses, calming you down slightly. You can’t help but nuzzle her hand causing her and the other woman to smile at you. A whimper escapes as another wave of pain courses through you. Leaving the women concerned for you. They have been falling for you just as much as you for them but they were worried you wouldn’t like them back or want to be involved with Avengers.
Just then Kate rushes in the door, her eyes scanning the room seeing that there had been a scuffle. Concerned for your safety when she can’t see you. She knows your heat is close, that is until she catches a whiff of your scent. She knows that you have gone into heat and how dangerous it is for you to have been here. She rushes around the counter stopping when she sees you curled in on yourself as Nat and Wanda crouch next to you. Wanda’s hand is still on your cheek. She lets out a growl at the woman. She knows that you aren’t in any danger with them but she instinctively wants to protect you while you’re so vulnerable. Neither of them move their concern only on you.
“Kate, we are here to help. We don’t want to hurt her.” Nat speaks calmly to the other omega. Kate looks from them back to you. She can see you, how you're trying to nuzzle in further to Wanda. She lets out a sigh. “Sorry alpha.” She puts her head down. Becoming part of the Avengers pack as Yelena’s omega has gotten her close to them and she didn’t want to disrespect the pack leader. “It’s ok. I know you are only trying to protect your friend.” Nat moves closer to you leaning down and moving to pick you up. She acts slowly to give you the chance to pull away but you don’t. It makes the woman smile as she picks you up. You quickly wrap yourself tightly around her and nuzzle into her scent gland. Breathing in her cinnamon scent that calms you.
“I think we will take her to the compound, she will be safe there. I don’t trust that after those alphas coming after her that she will be safe. They could easily follow her home.” Nat speaks to both Wanda and Kate. They both nod in agreement. “Kate, do you have this here?” Nat asks as she holds you closer to her. “Yeah I think I got this.” Kate replies before the door chimes. All three women go on defense growling at the scent of another alpha but all calm when they realize who it is. Kate’s mate Yelena struts through the door holding up her hands in surrender to the three as you whimper in Nat’s arms.
Yelena smirks at the older alpha when she sees you in her arms, wrapped tightly around the woman like a koala. Nat rolls her eyes when she sees how her sister is looking at her. “Lena!” Kate says bouncing over to her and throwing her arms around her neck pecking her lips. Yelena’s hands placed firmly on Kate’s hips. “Yel help Kate out here we are taking Y/n to the compound. Some alphas attacked so maybe help her clean up a bit.” Yelena looks around at the mess brows furrowed as Nat speaks. That is until she catches your sweet scent. Instantly understanding your predicament and understanding why the three were growling at her as she came in the door.
“Please be careful you two.” Wanda tells the alpha and her omega, handing Kate some money. Kate looks at the money and then back up to Wanda confused. “For damages.” Wanda explains. Kate is about to argue back about that but the look Wanda gives her tells her there is no room for that. She is second in command of the pack and will not take no for an answer. So Kate gives her a nod moving to start cleaning up the place, Yelena helping her mate clean as the two women leave with you.
Once the alphas get you to the compound they take you to the spare bedroom next to theirs not wanting to overstep any boundaries you might have. It has been hard for them to fight their inner alphas to not to just claim you as theirs. You’re currently wrapped around Wanda tightly as she walks into the room. She goes to put you on the bed but you don’t let go. “Malyshka can you let go?” She asks softly, but your only response is to shake your head and whine. Being in their arms is the most comfort you have had in a long time dulling the ache.
So the women decide to take you into their own room. If it provides you the comfort you need they will take the suffering to make you feel even the slightest bit better. Wanda sits down on the bed with you still wrapped around her. Your head in her neck as you let her scent drown out your senses. Nat walked away from the two of you for a few minutes before coming back. In her arms is a plethora of blankets. She sets them on the bed next to Wanda. “Detka?” She crouches down in front of you two and says softly. “Can you please come out? I brought you blankets for a nest.” Her voice is still soft, watching you for any movement.
Slowly you pull your head out, eyes landing on the pile. You hesitantly move not wanting to leave the comfort of the alpha but your inner omega is telling you to build your nest. “Thank you Nat.” You whisper, taking the blankets and moving to a corner of the room. It has been a losing battle to fight your inner omega who just craves the women. But you don’t want to overstep too much so you build your nest in the corner. You crawl into it moving things around till you’re comfortable.
Being around the alphas has dulled your pain. It is still there but in less intense waves, but the slick has increased. You can now feel it coating your thighs. The two have watched you intently, hard uncomfortable bulges in their pants. Wanting nothing more than to claim you as their own. It isn’t until your small voice breaks the silence in the room that they break from the trance. “Alphas?” You whimper. The women quickly move over to you concerned that something could be wrong. You look up to them with tears in your eyes, scared to ask anything more of them but craving their comfort.
Wanda’s hand gently cups your face, her thumb rubbing over your cheek gently. “Yes, omega. Do you need anything?” Wanda’s softness makes you purr as you nuzzle. “Please stay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they hear you. The women share a look before they agree. Nat gets in front of you which you instantly cuddle into her side, your head instinctively nuzzling into her neck. Wanda slots herself behind you. Both of them cuddle you tightly.
Nat notices it instantly, your warm slick slowly coating her thigh. You start grinding against her thigh. Your brain is not even registering it until you let out a soft moan. A look of panic crossing your face when you realize what you are doing. “I-I-I’m sorry.” You try to pull away but their arms wrapping around you tightly keeps you in place. “What do you need mega?” Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles. You let out another whine at her words wanting to beg them to use you, breed you, mark you, to become their mate. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, sweet girl.” Nat kisses your forehead letting her lips linger there.
You look up to the woman in front of you. “I want you, both of you.” You whisper. They are both slightly shocked but not entirely due to your recent actions. Nat’s hand cups your cheek. “Are you sure? This isn’t just your heat?” You shake your head no at her words. “Wanted you for a while. Didn’t think you wanted me. I’m nothing special.” You look down out of embarrassment waiting for the rejection, but it doesn’t come. Nat’s finger hooks under your chin, making you look back up at her. She gently kisses your lips before pulling back your breaths mingling together in the open space. “We want you too, and you are special. You are the most kind and gentle person we have ever met.”
It’s so quick that you don’t even notice. Wanda’s arms are removed from you and Nat has pushed you on your back hovering over you. “If you want us to stop or you change your mind you can tell us.” Nat tells you gently pecking your lips. “Are you sure you want this mega?” Wanda asks you. You nod your head. “We need words pretty girl.” You look at Wanda who is laying on her side with her head propped on her hand. “Want you.” Was the only words that slipped past your lips. In an instant with red whisps all of your clothes are gone. You look at Wanda a bit shocked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Soon the alphas' clothes soon follow. Their rock hard cocks springing free of their confines. You feel Nat’s slap against your stomach causing you to look down. Your eyes widen at her sheer size wondering how she will fit. Your eyes then trail to Wanda. She looks even bigger than Nat, not by much but a noticeable difference. You can feel more of your slick coating your thighs as you whine.
Nat kisses your head as her hand guides her cock to your folds. Swiping through them coating herself in your arousal, her tip nudging against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a moan as she keeps nudging. When she is satisfied, she moves the tip down to your entrance, looking at you for your confirmation that you're still ok. When you give her a nod, she slowly starts to push in. Slowly sinking her cock into your wet and warm cunt.
“Fuck so tight.” Nat moans as your walls clamp around her member. You’re so thankful for your heat, your slick allowing her to slip in easily. You wrap your legs around her waist as she sinks in further. When her thighs meet your ass you gasp at the fullness. You’ve never felt this full in your life and it feels so right.
Nat gives you some time to adjust to the stretch fighting her inner alpha to just pound into you mercilessly. Wanda turns your head leaning in to kiss you. Her hands reach between your bodies as she finds your breasts. Her fingers expertly tweaking your nipples causing you to moan in her mouth distracting you from the fact that Nat has pulled almost all the way out before sinking back in. Her pace is slow at first just getting used to you. You feel so good and she doesn’t want to cum too early.
When Nat feels like she can, her pace quickens. She fucks into you gently, her thrust deep as she angle just right. Hitting your spot deep inside. Wanda’s mouth is still on yours as she swallows all of your moans. Enjoying your full breast in her hands, groping at pinching her nipples as her mate fucks into you.
You don’t expect the alpha to be so gentle as she fucks you but it feels so good from her. Her caring and soft side showed through with every thrust of her hips. She leans up grabbing your hips watching as her cock disappears into your hole. Entranced by your sweet scent and how you take her so well. How your hips buck into her to meet her thrust trying to get her that much deeper. The outline of her cock bulging from your skin, she presses down and a loud moan is escaping you. She looks back up to watch as Wanda devours you, catching every whimper and moan until you can’t keep up anymore.
“So pretty and made for us. Taking me so well.” Nat praises you. “So perfectly wrapped around my cock squeezing me so tight. Fuck.” She moans when you clench. Your panting, eyes closed as your orgasm builds. One of Wanda’s hands drifting down between both of your bodies finding your bundle of nerves pinching it between her fingers. You cry out in pleasure and pain as she continues. Both women bring you so close to the edge. Your walls squeezing Nat tight, her grunts and moans filling your ears. Her knot starts to form hitting against your entrance, just begging to fill you.
Wanda’s hand continues toying with your clit as Nat drives her hips into you. Your legs are slightly shaking around Nat’s hips. She leans back down the more her knot swells. You're both close to cumming. She kisses your scent gland sending small waves of pleasure. Her hips become more erratic when her knot fully forms. Slamming against your entrance. With a few more thrust her knot pops in and her teeth sink into your neck. You cry out in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. She marks you claiming you as her omega. Filling you with her cum as your back arches. Grinding into you as white hot ropes of cum fill you. Your cum coating her cock as your walls squeeze her knot, milking her dry. She lets your neck go and licks your wound clean. You look up at her curious and hopeful eyes. She smiles and leans her head giving you access to the opposite side from where Wanda bit. You lean up sinking your teeth in her scent gland. She moans out and you don’t know how it is possible but you can feel a few more spurts of cum filling you. Which just causes you to moan around her bite. You release her and lick it clean just as she had done for you.
You’re both panting, Nat’s knot locking you together until it deflates. Wanda’s hands move away giving you two a chance to bond. Nat takes the time to gently move you both so that you are on your side. You feel the bond growing strong as you bask in the aftermath. She gently kisses your lips before leaning her forehead against yours. The room is silent until you break it. “Thank you.” You whisper between you two. Nat smiles. “No need to thank me detka. I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” The three of you laugh. It’s funny how you all wanted each other but none of you thought the other would. “Me too.” You smile, your breath still heavy between you two.
When Nat’s knot finally deflates she removes herself from you. You let out a whimper at the lost feeling empty as your mixed cum leaks out of you. Wanda kisses your shoulder and mumbles against the naked skin. “My turn malyshka. I want you to ride me.” You look back at her, your eyes wide. “I-I’ve never.” You stutter a little having never ridden anyone before. She kisses your shoulder again. “That’s ok detka. You’re going to look so beautiful bouncing on my cock.”
You feel Wanda shift as she lays on her back. You turn yourself to look at her. She has her hands behind her head and her cock standing proud. You don’t know how she was so patient when you look at her cock. Her tip is angry red and pre-cum has leaked all down her shaft. Her hand moves to wrap around and gently jerk herself. She had wanted to save all of her cum for you to fill you even fuller than you already were. You hesitate for a moment before getting up and shifting. Throwing your leg over her hips hovering over her cock. Her hand is firmly around her cock lining it up with your entrance. You look at her for a second when she gives you a reassuring smile. You give her a small smile before you start to slowly sink down on her.
Wanda moves her hand back behind her head as she watches you sink down. “Fuck your right Natty. So fucking tight. Fuck even after you fucked her she is tight.” You blush at her words, finally sitting fully in her lap. You didn’t think you could feel this full. Both of them fit you so perfectly like they were made just for you.
You grind your hips experimentally, the movement causing you and Wanda to moan. You can see the cocky smirk on her face as she waits for you to fuck yourself on her cock. “Fuck I can feel both of your cums leaking all over my cock.” She bucks her hips up, enticing you to move. You groan, taking her hint as you lift yourself up before slamming yourself down. You set a slow and steady pace as you figure out your moments. Bringing yourself up before dropping back down. Wanda enjoys the sight of your breast bouncing every time you sink back down.
But your pace is a bit slow for the woman. “Ride me like you mean it detka. I want to see you fuck yourself on my cock.” You whimper, nodding your head and picking up the pace. Bouncing on her cock and grinding your hips when you meet her pelvis. The sight in front of her is perfect as the perfect omega rides her. Even at this angle Wanda can see a perfect outline of her cock filling your tight hole. Moaning knowing that you're so full of her and that she is going to fill you even more.
Whimpers and moans fill the room as you continue to fuck yourself on her cock. Soon you feel hands on your waist as Nat moves closer to you two she helps guid you quicker on fucking her mate. Wanda’s hands moving to your plush thighs digging her fingers into the soft flesh. Starting to buck her hips up to meet you. Fucking you harder than Nat did.
“Such a whore for us already. Taking our fat cocks in your tight little hole. Look at that.” Wanda presses her hand down hard on the bulge that appears on your lower abdomen. You cry out from the pleasure and her words, looking down to see her cock moving inside of you. Your walls clench her tightly at the sights. “Oh fuck you like that don’t you little whore. Love being fucked by your alpha’s.” Wanda’s moans, her words a stark contrast to Nat’s praises. She is rougher with her thrusts. Showing a different side to each woman.
Nat turns your head towards her and kisses you hungrily. Wanda sits up planting her feet and thrusting up hard and rough. You love the difference between the two. A gentle Nat and a rougher Wanda. It turns you on immensely more slick coating Wanda’s cock the harder she drives her hips up into you. Nat still helping you fuck yourself down on her cock.
“Such a perfect cock drunk whore for us. So pretty being our little cum dump, just for us to use.” With every word that Wanda speaks it sends you closer to the edge, your walls clamping down on her. You don’t know how she can keep her rough pace as your walls suffocate her cock. She moans as your walls tighten, her knot forming and pressing against your entrance begging to slip in. Wanda nibbles at your perky nipples. “Want to be bred full of our cum? Fill you with our pups?” You moan into Nat’s mouth mumbling a yes.
“These tits would look so perfect, full of milk, your belly swollen with our pups.” She bites down on your nipple causing you to break the kiss from nat and cry out. “Mmm.” You whimper, her thrust becoming erratic as your knot fully forms. Nat lets your waist go and Wanda wraps her arms around you thrusting up harder and faster. You didn’t think she could go any harder or faster but it has you moaning louder. Your arms tightly wrapped around her as your nails dig into her back causing her to moan at the sting.
Wanda moves her head to the other side of your neck biting into your other scent gland as her knot slips inside locking you two together. You scream out and throw your head back as your vision blurs, cumming harder than you ever have before. Wanda’s cum joins Nat’s deep inside you filling the void and feeding the desires of your inner omega. Your whole body trembles in her hold as your bond forms. She pulls away, licking your wound. She lets you take the side opposite of Nat’s mark cementing your bond to both women. Small spurts of cum still fill you as Wanda grinds helping you both to ride out your highs.
When you come down your rigid body slumps into Wanda nuzzling into her neck. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, kissing the side of your head. Her fingers gently rubbing at your back. Your arms loosely wrapped around her exhaustion taking over as you close your eyes.
“Are you ok sweet girl?” Wanda questions kissing your head again. You hum in response, throat raw from your previous actions. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” You could hear the concern in her voice. So you pull back a soft smile playing on your lips. “No, it was perfect. Both of you.” Your voice is hoarse. You look back at Nat who pecks your lips. You would think that Nat would be jealous of how your body reacted to Wanda but all you can see is the love in her eyes. The stark contrast between the two is something you already love. How gentle Nat praising you as she fucked into you and how Wanda was rougher degrading you.
When Wanda’s knot deflates they both help you up on wobbly legs taking you to a warm bath and cleaning you up. Your heat subsiding for the moment, a relief you thought you would never have. You’re all now cuddled up in your nest, your head on Nat’s chest, Wanda’s arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes droop shut as exhaustion from the day's events gets to you. If someone had told you that you would end up being the omega mate to two Avengers you would have laughed in their face but right now wrapped up with them is all you could have ever wished for. The love of two powerful and amazing alphas and they are all yours. “I love you two.” You mumble so close to sleep. Both women were smiling. “We love you too.” Wanda kisses your shoulder and Nat kisses your head. “Our omega.”
