Iga Swiatek - Possessive Sex
overview: You and your girlfriend Iga Swiatek go out on a date at a Parisian cafe after some hitting. You get recognized by the barista as one of the top WTA and begin chatting/flirting. Iga notices, and gets jelly. She won't make you forget how she felt.
tags: !jealous iga x !needy afab/fem reader, tension as foreplay, super dommy iga, edging/orgasm denial, praise, possessive behaviors obviously
a/n: happy rg season to iganation!! also, finals season is finally over so get ready for a surplus of content!!
The bells to the cafe jingled, a gentle breeze skating into the cafe. The summer air paired nicely with the warm aroma of the croissants and other sweet French delicacies. You and Iga find your way to the line, skimming over the menu on the TVs behind the counter.
“A hot chocolate does sound good right now.” You suggest.
“Now?” She smiled, “it's like, steaming outside.”
“Mm? That's not the impression I got from last night.”
You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks redden at her quick quip.
“Next!” You hear, a chirpy barista greeting you at the register. Her gaze, unfaltered, welcomed you, sweet brown eyes widening.
“Hi, could I just get a medium hot chocolate?” You smile politely.
“Of course. Anything for my favorite tennis player.” You can't help but grin, a small gesture of flattery always welcome. The nice feeling in your stomach was shortcoming, feeling Iga’s pearly blue eyes glaring at the side of your head.
“And for you?” She says, turning to Iga.
“An espresso is just fine.” She answers, her soft voice now stern.
“That’s it.” Iga replies, fast enough before you can elicit a response. The two of you walk to a small table near the corner of the cafe, placing down your bags.
“What's got you in a sour mood?” You tease, sliding a foot by her calf under the table. She shrugs, shaking her head,
“Nothing.” She waits a beat before adding, “I'm just gonna use the restroom real quick.” You smile, watching her toned legs walk away. You felt your cheeks redden again, a soft heat developing in your core.
Soon, the barista brings over your drinks, leaving the hot chocolate right in front of you.
“Of course.” She pauses momentarily before adding, “Can I just say, your match the other night was extraordinary, you played so well.”
“Oh, thanks.” You beam, “I appreciate it, I didn't think I played too well.”
“Are you kidding me?” She buzzed, earning a chuckle from you. “You were 2 and 4 against a top ten player. That match was so fun to watch.”
“I'm flattered really.” You cheese, unable to formulate a proper response. Iga noticed. She walked back to the table, dragging out her chair and clearing her throat.
“Right. Enjoy your drinks.” She smiled and returned to the counter.
“What was that about?” You ask.
“You were being rude.” You sighed.
“How?” She sneered. You rolled your eyes again, this time not out of pleasure.
“You're being jealous.” You assert, taking a sip from your chocolate.
“You're-” She started, distracted by the way your tongue cleared the chocolate from your lips. “I'm not jealous.”
“Hmm? Yeah? I bet you’re jealous that the barista didn't compliment you on your match yesterday.”
“You're reading this totally wrong.” She scruffed.
“Mm. Yeah.” You tut your lips. “I'm sure.”
She wasn't lying though. She wasn't jealous that the barista didn't have anything to say about her game, she couldn't care less about what she thought. She was too busy thinking about the way your eyes glistened at her, the way you giggled at her compliments, worst of all the color of your face when you talked to her. She hated it. She wanted to make sure you knew, and she was willing to go further than just a few petty little comments to let you know.
The summer draft skimmed through your hair as you walked side by side down the streets of Paris. The drink was filling, but something still felt missing. Something was clearly awry.
Iga was nearly silent on the way back to the hotel, only responding to your questions and never really asking any. She refused to catch your eye either. Still, the two of you headed back to Iga’s room.
You shut the door, hearing the lock click behind you. You were ready to put your dirty laundry in a bag and take your things back to your room, leave without saying a word, like how she had refused to formulate a sentence on the walk back. Not letting you catch a breath before you made it two steps into the room, Iga stopped you right in your path.
“You really think I noticed the way you looked at her?”
“Shut up, I saw it. It was so obvious”
“There was nothing malicious about it, Iga.”
“Yeah? I never said anything about maliciousness. That’s what’s on your own conscience.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed with Iga’s attitude.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You lied, not giving in just yet.
“Keep it up, and that won't be the last time you roll your eyes.”
“Keep what up?” You pushed, pointing into Iga’s chest. She was left flustered, like it was the first time you had put your fingers on her all over again. She mumbled something under her breath before pushing her lips onto yours, her tongue rigorously giving in. She pushed you aggressively onto the bed, giving you no room to react as she started to unbuckle your belt.
“I'm gonna make sure you never forget who you come home to.” She whispered, lightly biting your ear. “Not some fucking barista. Me.” She looked you right in your eyes, her contact not wavering. She grabbed you by the chin forcing a response out of you, “Say it.”
“Say what?” You whispered cautiously, worried that a different tone of voice might just make Iga even more aggressive. She scoffed, and rolled her eyes, turning you on your stomach, the strength of her body, and the sound of her voice making it so easy to do whatever she wanted to you.
“Maybe I can fuck the answer out of you.” She scolded, heat from her lips radiating onto the shell of your ear.
She got up, letting you turn around, hovering over the bed, watching you like a hawk stalks its prey. She watched as you carefully removed your blouse. And then your jeans. And then your bra. Your arousal was evident as you delicately slid the lacy panties from your soft hips.
“Already so wet for me, huh?” She teased, smirking. Her eyes looked needy with desperation, but she refused to let her mask slip. “Haven't even touched you yet.”
You watched her sturdy figure wander into the other room, her delicate footsteps fading. Her strength and the power she possessed could definitely instill fear into anyone, but her ability to channel her frustrations into you until you were weak and trembling was even more frightening than anything else. You turned over, dismissively trying to sneak under the sheets.
Out of nowhere, you felt Iga's dainty fingers run across the nape of your neck before straining against the front, leaving your body shuddering. Frozen in place, you felt Iga's hot breath dance on the back of your neck as she left rough kisses, being sure to leave a mark and prove her place.
“Im gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
Her strong legs caved you in, and her fingers ran down your back until they met the tenderflesh of your ass. Even though you couldn't see her, you could feel the heat like it was going to burn a hole right through. She dragged your hips up, so you were on your knees, and without warning, she shoved nearly the full length of their thick strap through you.
“Iga!” You cried out. She dug her fingers into your hair, pushing your head into the pillow.
“This is what you wanted right?” She asked, her figure leaning over you, carving you out perfectly. All you could do was whimper in response, trying to nod. The sudden change beneath your core felt strained, but after leaving her dick still within you for just a moment, and moving in painfully slowly, her strap inside you felt all the more necessary. You tried to wiggle words out of your mouth, your face still mushed into the pillow. Her hips started snapping against yours, filling the room with the sound of sultry smacking noises. She lifted your head, pulling your hair, leaving your mouth gaping. Your erotic moans almost sounded pornographic the way Iga had melted you.
“Iga!” You pleaded, a tear sliding down your face. “It's too much.” You whined. She disregarded your pleas for mercy and continued to buck her hips without consideration. Your whines continued to fill the room, pathetic cries accompanied by Iga’s aggressive slaps, definitely being made aware to any weary neighbors. Arousal dripping from your legs onto the sheet, and sheen of sweat already coating your body made Iga even more confident, her power over you alike to no other.
“You're mine.” She grunted. “Nobody else gets to fuck you like this.” You continued to whine, Iga’s thrusts becoming stronger and pushing even deeper. Her grunts and groans melted into your ears, a sound sweet like honey. Her strap seemed to fill a well that would be otherwise empty, and you felt as if any lack of her would leave you helpless. You felt your legs beginning to falter, trembling in weakness, your body telling Iga how close you were. Suddenly, the aggression stopped and the thrusts faded.
“Why'd you stop?” You desperately asked, turning as much as you could to see her. Her face was flushed, and her chest was dripping with beads of sweat. She looked like a stoic statue. She leaned down and whispered, “Say something I wanna hear.”
“Iga! Please.” You groaned, voice cracking in desperation. “I'm so close.” You whined.
“You know what I wanna hear.” She scolded, refusing to let her hips move in anyway that might bring you any closer to your climax.
“I’m yours.” You whispered.
“I’m yours, Iga.” You whimpered.
“Good girl.” She chuckled, dramatically bucking her gives again, giving you no time to react before stars clouded your eyes and all you could hear were the sounds of your own cries as you came all over Iga’s dick. Your legs trembled and shook before finally giving out and collapsing. You tried catching your breath, huffs and sighs echoing as the noises of the thrusts began to fade.
“You sound so pretty.” She praised you. “Now you know who you belong to, yeah?” You managed a nod. You groaned as she pulled the strap out, your pussy feeling seemingly empty. You sighed, burying your head in the pillow again, before Iga came back with a warm towel, rubbing in along your slick thighs.
“Open your legs a bit.” She left a few delicate kisses before handing you one of her sweatshirts and a pair of her boxers, smiling. She watched you slip into her clothes, another reminder you were hers.
“I like it when you get all jealous.” You admitted. “It’s cute.” She tilted her head and glared. “Maybe I should make you jealous more often. She pushed you down on the bed smiling, making you giggle.
“Don’t make me prove it to you again.”
