Minors and ageless blogs dni
For keeping
Summary: After a mission that opened up old wounds, Wanda sits you down for a serious discussion.
W/C: 6.492 k
A/N: Special thanks to my mutuals and friends who gave me pointers. This was sitting in my drafts since this summer and I wanted to refine it just a little (a little, a lot). It's longer and softer than what I had planned but you'll see that for yourself. Thank you friends ily <3
Notes: angst, fluff, smut, intimacy, mentions of dynamics
@lotties-ashwagandha for our witch
You were cuddling on the couch, eyes focused on the movie as you held Wanda close to your chest in a shared wrapped blanket. She practically laid on top of you, taking up all of your space but it’s not something you were bothered by at all.
Being with an Avenger did not always mean you had a clear schedule to see each other. So any moments you had, you gratefully took them. Especially when it came to missions.
She had been away for numerous weeks. No calls, no messages, no details. All you learned was that it got ugly with some human trafficker that Wanda went too far with, resulting in a disciplinary hearing from her superiors. Once she returned she had not told you much at all, apart from a warm greeting.
Still…the silence, her silence, did worry you.
The furrow between her brow had not left all the time she was with you. There was a tension in her jaw, anger and frustration in her eyes. Though you did not say anything, you knew you had to wait, you always did when it came to heavy topics with Wanda.
As if she could feel the thoughts running through your mind without even having to use her powers, she leaned up to plant a kiss on your chin.
“I missed you,” she mumbles, nuzzling your neck. “Like an unfair amount. It’s hard being away from you.”
Her words send a pleasant warmth through your chest, soothing your anxieties.
You hum contentedly, kissing the crown of her head “I missed you too. More than you know.”
Silence again.
You shift in a sitting position, carefully moving her with you. Your fingers graze the furrow in her brow, all the way down to the tension in her jaw. She leans into your touch, a soft sigh leaving her lips. It was more than just a physical touch. It was a statement, a reminder that you were here for her, whenever she needed it.
She presses her forehead against yours, wrapping her arms around you.
“Can I ask you something?” she hushes, words rushing through crackled syllables.
You nod, your hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. She hums before pulling away to meet your gaze.
What was anger and frustration seemed to morph into sadness and doubt. You didn’t have to have mind reading powers to recognise that look– the kind that called to have a serious discussion.
A few minutes pass before she clears her throat, taking a deep breath. She grabs the remote, shutting the television off and climbs off your lap.
“Right. Yeah.”
You follow her movements, your anxiety now making your heartbeat pick up to an uneasy pace. “Is everything okay?”
Her shoulders slump at the question. Realising that you might have misphrased what you wanted to say, you swiftly correct yourself only to be interrupted.
“I…I was hoping we could talk. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks and I was just afraid. Whenever I thought I was brave enough to be honest with you, I ended up getting scared and backed away.”
Your heart rate spikes up at her words. You don’t know what she really means, but you try to ignore the frightening signals your brain is already throwing at you.
You don’t say anything. Not for now, at least, waiting for her to fully explain herself.
“It was only after the mission that I told myself I couldn’t keep running from it.” she breathes out, her fingers playing with the threads of the blanket, eyes avoiding yours.
Surely it could not be…was it? No. No it wasn’t. It didn’t make any sense. Couples usually don’t cuddle with each other before breaking up, right? At least from your experience. Maybe this might be a new one.
Maybe. But as much as you want to stick to hypotheticals, everything in this moment is pointing to it.
“Okay,” your voice trembles. “It is terrifying to have uncomfortable conversations. Take all the time you need.”
“You don’t think I’m an idiot?”
“No. I could never think that.”
“You’re always so gentle and patient. It makes me feel…”
Yeah, no. She was definitely breaking up with you because you are too overbearing–
“Safe. Certain.”
“What…what is it that you– I don’t understand. Are you…?”
She turns to meet your gaze, shaking her head, “Hey…No. No, I’m not breaking up with you. We’re okay, I promise.”
A heavy weight leaves your shoulders as soon as the words escape her mouth.
“Yeah...Okay. Sorry. I was just overthinking it.”
She takes your hand, lifting them to her lips, “There is not a world without you in it. When I said you make me feel safe I meant it. You’re my safety. I don’t always have to be in control all the time. It gets so tiring after a while and I just want my mind to shut off. I– I want you to do that for me. To take over when things get too much.”
Oh. This was entirely different from the spiral you were sent into.
“Take over as in…?”
“Making me forget. I trust you, with everything that I have. I want to be able to slip into a space where I don’t need to think…Just feel. I, uh– did some research on the topic and…”
A wild flush blossoms on her face. You smile affectionately, pulling her closer to you, “And…?”
“And it’s normal for some people. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you take care of me, putting my needs over yours. This is…I have been thinking about it for a while now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t even have to do anything at all. I just wanted to share this vulnerable part of me.”
You carefully weigh your words, your brain conjuring different scenarios. You have never really experimented with Wanda before. You were always soft, gentle and slow. It would be different, but then again, you would do anything to make her happy.
“Have you thought of what you want to do?”
She bites her lip, playing with the rings that adorn your fingers, one of hers that you stole a while back.
“I did. I mean, yeah. I want to– would like to be instructed. And for you to be demanding with me. I want you to give and give until I can’t take anymore.”
“Any…limits? That’s what they’re called, right?”
She nods. “I still want to be able to touch and see you. So I won’t be comfortable with restraints or anything like that. I mean…you can find a way to work around it but– I don’t want to be tied up or whatever.”
You don’t miss a single word, holding on to her every sentence.
“Anything else I need to know? Or I guess have to know?”
“...I don’t want you to hold back. Unless I put a clear stop to it.”
It is clear she has thought over this for more than a while.
Pulling her closer to your chest, you allow her to bury her face at the crook of your neck, shivering as she deeply inhales.
“It means everything for you to share your feelings with me, Wanda. I’m here to make you happy in all the ways that you need.”
“Thank you. Not just for this. But for listening to me, for everything.” She pulls away to look at you, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
You kiss her cheek, lovingly brushing your nose against hers. You feel the soft press of her lips against yours and shudder. It did not matter how many times you kissed, it still felt like the first time. And like always, you latch onto her. It was a spell that she had wrapped around you, one that you don’t want to break free of.
It was nearly shameful you had to part for air because you would let her steal every bit of your oxygen. She giggles at your dazed look, peppering your face with kisses. You can’t help but join her, admiring her flushed appearance.
You won’t lie, you are a little worried of hurting her. Even though she is powerful and your human strength cannot compare to hers at all, there is still an important part of her that remains human.
Then again, you would do anything for her. And if it meant her being safe and letting go, you don’t think you need much time to go over it– all you needed was a bit of guidance.
And she offered you anything you needed to know.
Days passed by with nothing but you and Wanda. The only times you left was when you had to go to work or when she had a meeting to attend, the rest was with you cooking meals for each other or doing house chores. It was fun to stay indoors in the peace of your own worlds but you wanted to take her out– even heroes needed breaks, particularly yours.
Tonight, you planned on helping ease off the stress of her weekdays. There was a place you had been wanting to try out with Wanda. Not too loud, not too busy. A good amount of privacy so that she will not get overwhelmed by strangers who possibly recognise her.
She was off to the compound for the entire day, having told you that she will get ready there and meet you at the restaurant. After a long shower, your nerves took hold of you as you looked at the different outfits folded on the bed, all blends of casual and formal. You finally settled on a classic look, deciding that it will be completed with your jacket– Wanda’s favourite.
Once you tried them on, you picked at every possible imperfection. As much as it was ridiculous, you always wanted to impress her.
“Good. All good,” you mutter, reaching for your phone to send her a text when it buzzed.
It was a call from Wanda. Almost immediately, you picked it up, a quip on the tip of your tongue, with her being a little earlier than what you had initially planned. Though a long, exhausted sigh from the other end stops you.
“Hey…”
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry, my love. There’s a last-minute mission. Relating to the guy I told you about? I…I can’t say much now. I’m so sorry.”
Your heart flipped as you heard her voice trembling, wanting to rush over there to comfort her.
“It’s alright–”
“No, I– I know you wanted to go out. I really wish I could turn it down, but–”
“Wanda. It’s okay, I promise. I’m not angry. Do what you have to do and be safe. I’ll be here for you when you come back, alright?”
You think you hear a sniffle, but you don’t have time to question it before she speaks again.
“Thank you. I…I will find a way to make this work, I swear.”
“There’s nothing you need to do. Just be careful.”
She whispers an apology before hanging up.
There are times when you wonder what it is like to be an Avenger, to have to shoulder responsibilities while still having to live your life.
While you were part sad, part understanding, you were still adamant about making tonight all about Wanda– you just have to twist it in your own favour.
Moments after you hear a door slamming brutally, startling you, followed by strings of curses.
In times like this, Wanda usually wanted to be alone to ground herself. You only have to explain that you ordered food and that you will be around if she needs you–
“What is going on?”
All of a sudden, you felt silly for keeping your outerwear on.
You clear your throat. “I…wanted to surprise you? Since we couldn’t go to dinner I brought it to us. Is it too much–”
Her lips were on yours. Urgent, begging. Your gasps are swallowed; she won’t allow you space for oxygen, pulling you back to her every time you merely separate. Her hands are all around you– fisting the collar of your shirt, grazing the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer– like you would disappear.
“Wanda,” you groan, gently pulling away. “Slow down.”
Your breaths intermingle, heavy and bathed. Her hold lessens its deathly grip on you. Your brain was all over the place, like it always was when Wanda kissed you with a passion that is capable of ending your life.
Pushing through the haze she put you in, you look at her. There was that same look in her eyes a few days ago– angry, pained.
“I’m sorry.” She steps back, running a hand through her hair, her voice trembling.
“That’s a new way of greeting someone. You told me good evening without even having to say it.” You chuckle.
She playfully rolls her eyes, though a hint of a smile crosses her face. It leaves just as quickly as it appears.
Something was brewing in her mind– it might have been that mission she was on. While most of them were usually extreme, this one was probably too much for her. You heard it in her tone when she called you.
She looks over at the table, then at you. A few seconds passes before she inhales and exhales deeply. It was the bare minimum, but after the day she had, the gesture was enough to make a heat in her chest blossom.
“I’ll set up the plates.”
“That’s alright, I’ll get them.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still capable of moving.”
“I’m not doubting that– but I want you to leave it all to me. You deserve a break, and that means leaving me to set the table.”
She raises an eyebrow but says nothing, listening to you. After you’ve set plates and glasses, you move to unpack the contents of your dinner.
In between bites, she could not stop looking at you. How overdressed you were, but given the context, it was not much of a problem (at all, actually).
Your face heats up at her attention. The way she gazes at you is in a manner that would be close to scandalous if you were in a public setting. You look at her in return, admiring her– her mussed hair, the creases in her clothes. She was still beautiful, in every sense of the word.
And her eyes.
You swear they could drown you.
“You’re staring.”
“You’re staring too,” you point out, your heart skipping.
“Guilty.” She shrugs, “But only because you make it hard not to.”
“I thought that was your job.”
“I have eyebags and look like I fell from two floors, and you’re telling me that I’m…what, pretty?”
“Pretty girls always fall from two floors. It’s kind of my type.”
“Wow, you are easy to please.”
“I don’t ask for much,” you tease. “Eyebags, falling from two floors…Those are my only standards.”
She tries to suppress a smile but fails, laughing as she shakes her head. You join in too, the easiness of the atmosphere making your heart flutter.
After a moment, she leans in, softly brushing her lips against yours. It was softer this time, slow and patient.
“Thank you. For always taking care of me.”
“It’s–”
“No. It’s…it’s more than you know. I have baggage to deal with, but you’re always here for me. Even when I’m like this.” She wrings her fingers, shoulders dropping. “I get tired. Angry. I let it get the best of me, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
You don’t interrupt, allowing her all the time she needs to unload the weight she carries. Instead, you hold one of her hands, lightly squeezing it.
“I can’t really tell you much, but…it was just awful. The…the same trafficker that we locked up escaped to some country. Wherever he is now, he’ll just do the same thing. Over and over,” she shudders. “And we let him escape. We let it happen.”
Her voice breaks at the edges. You move closer, and she leans into your touch, letting you hold her. A few stray tears escape her, dampening your shirt, but you don’t care. You let her know, silently, how sorry you were. How terrible it was. And that you were here for her, in any way she needed.
After a moment, she pulls away, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry.” She points to your shirt.
“Don’t bother with it. It adds a certain…je ne sais quoi. Me wearing you.” You chuckle, “How about I run a bath for you? Would you like that?”
“Yeah,” she hushes, not separating away from you.
When you make sure she has properly eaten, you lead her to the bathroom, making a mental note to clear off the table later.
You allow her some privacy to undress while you take care of the bath, picking her favourite scents and checking if the temperature is proper. Once everything was complete, you stepped back, letting Wanda know that the bath was ready for her. She sighed gratefully and walked into the bathroom.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” You kiss her forehead, gasping when she kisses you.
“You’re too sweet.”
“All for you.”
She shyly looks at you as her hands play with the hem of her towel. You smiled in reassurance, leaving to give her the quiet she needed.
You didn’t stay for long in the kitchen, rushing and cleaning up as neatly as you could. Mainly because you never really liked to leave her alone for too long in sensitive times like these, wanting to be in close proximity.
When everything was clean, you did your nightly routine in the guest bathroom and moved to your room. Wanda was still in the bath, allowing herself to sink into the comfort she was basking in. She feels awful for being so needy and weak.
Oddly enough, you did not make it look that way.
It was almost like you made her stronger for letting her be vulnerable around you. A side she didn’t let anyone see. At the Tower, she had to be strict, stern. Not too harsh, but not too gentle either. She somehow managed to intimidate others, and not only because of her powers. Wanda was the last person you would want to annoy.
At home, in the safety of her universe with you, it was different. She allowed all facets to be exposed, just because she could– a counterbalance to having to be in charge all the time.
She hears the sound of shuffling in the adjacent room, clothes ruffling and drawers opening and closing.
A thought crosses her mind as she pictured you changing your clothes. It was bad timing, what with the mission and everything happening, but she truly meant it when she said you looked good, beautiful, even to the point where it was unfair.
You smelt of flowers and citrus. Sweet and delicate. Honestly, she would lie to herself if she said she didn’t want you because she really did. To make her feel safe, to reassure her.
She wonders if you truly know what– or rather, how you make her feel.
A few moments pass before she rinses off the soap from her body, sighing as the ache from today leaves her.
She walks into your room, pleasantly greeted by your casual look rather than the one you had on before.
You were impossible not to admire, as much as you always downplayed it.
Your eyebrows, the colour of your eyes, your neck that she loved to adorn with bites…your arms that she held on to, everything about you was mesmerising.
Like you knew she was staring at you, you lift your eyes to hers, the corners of your lips ticking upwards.
“Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” she mumbles, her eyes dropping to your fingers when you turn a page.
She drags her feet towards you, comfortably settling her weight on you. Almost immediately, the book was set aside as her damp hands found their way around your neck as you wrapped your hands around her clothed waist.
Her skin was flushed, glossening. Strands of her hair were glued to her shoulders, droplets of water ran down her collarbones, but neither of you cared.
“What do you need?” you whispered, afraid that you would ruin the silence.
“You.” Her lips brushed against your jaw, the ghost of her breath sending pleasant shivers through your body. “Please.”
Your heart hammers at the tone of her voice, making you fumble your words.
At your assumed silence, she dropped her face from your face to cover hers, “I know. It's ridiculous of me to ask–”
You softly hush her, taking her hands from her face, intertwining them in yours. “Your feelings are never ridiculous.”
Her eyes flicker between yours, a warm, patient smile gracing your features. You were trying to enter the space you had to before moving on, for her.
Once the fog in your mind clears, you spoke up again,
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She nods, leaning to brush her lips against yours, frowning when you gently pull away. “I need your words.”
Your hands go back to her waist, rubbing soothing circles as she took the time she needed.
Her mouth opened and closed as she found the words she wanted, needed to say. “I want you to take over. Make me forget.”
Then you were reminded of your discussion– how she wanted to be spoken to, what her limits were.
“What are your colours?”
“Green, I’m good to go. Yellow, I want to slow down. Red, I want to stop.”
“Good.”
You leaned closer, eyes flicking to hers, slightly darker than they were before, then to her lips. They parted, waiting for you. Though you listened to her plea, you carried it out in your own way. With your hands still on her hips, you pulled her closer, letting her believe you would give in to her wishes, drawing your lips to hers before retreating.
She mutters your name, pressing her forehead against yours. You finally take pity on her, her glossy eyes pleading, begging for you to kiss her. There was no reason for you to tease her any further…for now.
With one last look, you press your lips against hers, light and gentle at first, not wanting to rush the moment. She sighs, nearly in relief, allowing you to lead her. From this close, you could smell her shampoo, feel the warmth of her body.
Her hands trembled as they fell to your chest, feeling the tremors of your heart. Her tongue lightly slides along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You groan, your tongues mingling together.
When her hips rolled against yours, all words left you. You could feel her smirking against your lips.
“Are you going to make me wait?” she panted, hands moving up to your shoulders.
“You’re making demands?” Your voice wavered as you tried to keep a calm, leveled tone.
She feigns confusion. “I can’t?”
Now you got her.
You trail your lips on her jaw, “Not if you don’t ask nicely.”
“We both know you always end up– oh…”
Her breath hitches as your lips move to her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point. She tilts her head back, encouraging you to press your lips on her skin.
You loved having her like this, desperate and willing.
“What was that?” you teased, feeling your ego bloom at her words fumbling.
Any attempts at quipping back died when you found another sensitive spot to mark.
She could not hold back anymore, her movements building a rhythm as she now settled on your thigh. A pang of desire shot through you, setting a fire in your lower abdomen as you felt her on your bare thigh.
She meets your gaze, the once soft-look now morphed into one she was unfamiliar with. It quickly pulled her in a haze she did not want to escape.
“Are you going to be patient for me?”
“I…”
You tensed your thigh, dragging her hips back and forth. “I asked you a question.”
“Whatever, just don’t– don’t make me have to ask,” she huffs, wishing she would wipe off that ridiculous smile you wore.
She could not even focus anymore as her brain turned to mush, the towel around her loosened as she built a steady rhythm with you guiding her.
“Fine. Since you want me so badly…use my thigh. And don’t stop until I say so.”
Your words, lightly condescending and intertwined with order, made her heart race. She found herself liking it more than she should.
“Please–”
The grip on her hips slightly tightened, one of your hands sliding up her back to her hair, lightly tugging it back so as to not hurt her. “Now you’re asking?”
An apology tumbles from her lips, her fingers digging in the skin of your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I– I just want you so bad.”
“I know.” You hushed, “I want you too…more than words can even put it.”
Her arms wrapped around you as she drags her lips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, ragged whispers of your name tumbling from her mouth. She feels that familiar heat in the pit of her stomach, one you always guided her to.
You let her take what she needed from you. You had to hold back your groans; seeing her this way never failed to make you weak.
Pulling her away from your shoulder, you guided her into a kiss, a little messy and uncoordinated. She was too focused on chasing her pleasure, too focused on the feeling of your hands all over her. Each mutter of your praise progressively sent her to the edge and then–
“Stop.”
Everything tumbled. She hopes she misheard, but the retreat of your hands and the expectant look on your face was a clear, unfortunate message.
The cloud of pleasure she had been floating on was abruptly taken from her. All she could see was you.
Admittedly, you felt a little bad. Holding her back was like punishing you, stopping yourself from seeing her chase what was rightfully hers.
Your hands rubbed soothing circles on her bare back. “Colour?”
“Green…” She sighs, pushing through the fog of confusion.
You smiled, peppering soft kisses all over her face. In one smooth move, you carefully shifted your positions and laid her on the bed.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. She was a scene pulled out of your dreams, a picture only you had the right to take. It was only a call of your name that made you realise this was real. She was real.
“You’re gorgeous,” you blurted out, too drunk on her to think of anything else. “So pretty.”
She blushes, tugging on your shirt, asking a silent question. You moved away to pull it over your head. Not even a few seconds later, her hands were already on you, exploring every bit of your chest. You bite your lip, your desire soaring as she touches you with reverence, in a way no one ever could.
“You always say that...”
Then, without warning, she pulls you down with her, swallowing your gasps. She captures your bottom lip with her teeth, careful not to hurt you, relishing in your ragged breaths, your burning skin against hers without any barriers. Her hands moved to your shorts, but you quickly caught them, interlacing your fingers as you placed them above her head.
“You’re the right one for me,” you whispered against her lips, trailing kisses against the column of her throat.
If she cannot believe it, you will prove it to her.
Your kisses scattered across her chest, softly nipping at her skin. You whispered praises in between, your hands following wherever your lips touched. You paid attention to each mole, each scar.
As you made your descent to where she needed you the most, you had to hold yourself back. You wanted her– wanted to worship her, until she forgets about everything.
Her impatience gets the best of her as a groan of your name leaves her lips. “Please…”
It hurts you to elongate her pleasure. You just wanted to give in to her.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to…” She falters, hands hesitantly settling on top of your head. “I want…”
Much to her dismay you took your time, you moved away.
“I can’t do anything unless you tell me in your words, what it is that you want me to do, Wanda.”
She should not be affected by how stern you were. Yet she was, making the ache between her legs deepen.
“I want you to taste me.”
You kissed her stomach, humming in approval. “Good. Keep your hands above your head. If you touch me, I’ll stop.”
Of course you won’t. But you don’t let her know that. The most powerful woman was at your mercy, and that was enough to satisfy you alone.
“I won’t be able to…”
“You will.”
Your hands spread her thighs apart, and you could not hold back your sighs. She was perfect, and you were grateful to have her like this, grateful that she trusted you with her body.
You placed her legs on either side of your head, looking up at her. “Ready?”
Her fingers twitch as she looks down at you, voicing her answer with a hushed yes. At her permission, your tongue carefully swipes through her labia. You did not want to rush it, taking your time as you flicked against her bundle of nerves. It did not matter how many times you had her like this; you willed yourself to remember her taste, her breathy moans.
It took everything in her to keep her hands where they were, not wanting to be robbed out of her pleasure again. Your movements slowly built a rhythm as you hummed, making her shamelessly grind against your face.
“You’re perfect…always perfect. So good for me,” you whispered, unable to speak up.
“More. I need more,” she cries out.
“Bossy,” you chuckled, “I thought I said you had to wait.”
“You’re being unfair.”
“Just lie back and relax.” You nip her thigh.
Your hand slides up her body, pressing her lower abdomen. She grabs the pillows above her in a harsh grip, nearly ripping them in the process. Each press and flick brought her back to the edge again, nearly tipping over it. Hisses and curse words tumbled from her, a blend of English and a language you could not really understand but always vowed to pay attention to. Your name never sounded better than when she uttered it.
She felt it– an overwhelmingly pleasant heat blossoming, threatening to break loose. Your hums pushed it, your occasional praises and your tongue unrelenting.
“I’m close, please don’t–”
Your hand eased the pressure on her abdomen, the steady-paced rhythm you built slowing down.
She sobs, nearly trashing wildly, looking down at you with anger. Honestly, if she really had it in her to order you, you think you would listen to her. She was especially beautiful when she was borderline terrifying.
You gently remove her legs from your head, leaving small kisses in the process, making your way up to her heaving chest. Her hands let go of the pillows. You think you see a red hue, but it might have been a trick of the lights.
Or from the oxygen you were slightly deprived of.
If she was not flushed then, she was now. It never failed to make her blush, to see you climbing up from between her legs with her arousal glistening your lips.
“Colour?” You pushed back her hair, waiting for her breathing to get back to normal.
“Green,” she exhales, “Can I…Can I touch you now?”
You looked at her hands, still placed where you left them.
“Yeah.” You smiled.
Not needing to be told twice, her hands find your hips, pulling you down against her. She kisses you, moaning at her own taste.
She could not think, just feel you– the comfort and love you were willingly giving her.
“Please…please touch me,” She moans tiredly. “I want– need you.”
Deciding that she was good and surprisingly patient, you wanted to offer her what you stole.
“You’ll have me.”
Your hands slipped down between your bodies at an aching pace. You cupped her heat, groaning when you felt her desire for you.
You won’t make her wait this time. Her fingers dug into the skin of your shoulders, her thighs trapping your hand, making you stifle a groan. Gently circling her bundle of nerves, you slide in your index finger, giving her a moment to adjust to the intrusion before pumping your digit, her gasps sending an ache between your legs.
It was addicting, hearing her like this, feeling her this way, how she wanted you.
“You feel so good– please don’t stop.”
As if you could ever deny her again. It’ll be torture for you.
“You have me,” you softly hushed her, “You always do.”
You had no choice but to carry out her pleasure in the way that she wanted, without restrictions. You listened to every breath, feeling a blissful stir at the pit of her stomach at the rise of her hips.
“Can you take another?” you panted, trying to speak and without focusing on how good she feels for you.
“Yeah– yeah. Please.”
You listen, sliding another finger, not disrupting the rhythm you built so far. She is like a beautiful wildfire, something you could not look away from. Her mind went blank as she felt that pressure again, ears only registering your pants, your praises, and unrelenting touch. She felt your teeth retracing her neck, a sharp sting rapidly soothed by the trace of your tongue.
“I meant it when I said you were perfect. You’re the right one for me.”
She wasn’t able to answer, choosing instead to guide you back to her lips, leading you in a heated kiss. Your reverence did not go unnoticed; it never will. Even in moments like these, where she asked that you take complete control, you would always treat her like she was your only person.
Each pump of your fingers, each circle of your thumb, and your praises made a fire grow rapidly. She broke the kiss with a sob of your name.
“Please, I’m close, I–”
You softly hushed her, kissing her jaw. “Let go for me.”
She cries your name, like it was the only word she could utter. The ground was shaking, the lights were flickering, but you were too caught up on guiding her over the edge to notice. It was only after you felt…something.
A strange, euphoric energy zapped through your entire body before the room was blinded entirely in red. You gasp, having never seen her like this before. It was the first time you had ever seen her powers like this, a beautiful sort of chaos.
The room was filled with your pants. You carefully pulled back, softly apologising when she winced. Her eyes fluttered open to you rubbing circles on her thigh, then the room.
“What the…” Her chest was heaving, but now for an entirely different reason. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I…I usually try to…control myself.”
“Don’t apologise.” You kiss her, “It’s beautiful.”
She frowns, her lips trembling. “I could have hurt you…”
You shake your head. “I didn’t feel any pain. The opposite, actually. It was…It felt amazing. Like I could almost feel you. And you felt good.”
She thought that she scared you away, that you would look at her and see her as someone else you did not recognise. She did not expect to meet reverence and complete wonder.
Her hand grazed your cheek as you looked down at her. You turned your head, kissing her wrist, before lying down next to her. You pulled her in your arms, letting her rest her head on your chest.
Your pants and racing heartbeats filled the silence. You looked at the room, still coloured in a red hue.
“Are you feeling okay?” you mumbled once you could speak again.
“Yeah, I just…can’t feel my legs.”
“You have that to blame me for.”
She playfully slaps your chest. “You’re too arrogant for your own good.”
“I think I have the right to be proud…” You gesture to the room. “That was sexy.”
“You’re so weird.”
You share a laugh as she buries her head in your chest. After a moment, she grows serious.
“But, really…you weren’t, y’know, creeped out?”
“Why would I be?”
“I don’t know…because my powers are scary. You’ve seen what happens with them when I don’t handle them properly. It just…pushes people away. I don’t– I don’t want that to happen with you.”
“Hey…I’m not scared. You’ll never be able to push me away.” You gently lift her chin, your heart sinking at the tremor of her voice, “I’m with you until the very end.”
She kisses you, tiredly and uncoordinated, pulling back with a shy smile. “Thank you. For everything.”
“You’ll always have me,” you echoed your words from earlier, holding her close to you, “I love you.”
“I love you.” She mumbles back, the voice in her brain dying down.
Her eyes drifted shut, falling asleep to your hands soothingly scratching her scalp and your soft promises that she will remember, even in her sleep.
A little while later, you moved to clean yourselves, grabbing a rag for each of you. You carefully wiped down her skin, admiring the marks you left behind and praising her, thanking her for trusting you with her body then got comfortable clothes for you to wear, choosing one of your old sweatshirts.
As much as she wanted to help you told her to stay put. You did everything to take care of her, preparing a quick platter of snacks, bringing back water and helping her take small sips. She leaned back against your chest, chewing on grapes, occasionally feeding you some.
“I found out something,” she mutters, “Want to hear it?’
“What is it?”
She smiles, wiping a crumb from your lips, “I have an amazing partner.”
“Oh? I’d have to meet them some time soon.”
“You’re silly.”
“You love it.”
She hums, resting back against you. Her mind felt at ease, like it always did with you. Her doubts, her fears, would always be silenced by your security, by your love. For the first time, she found herself breathing, without being scared– that she could be herself, strong and capable, while still allowing you to take over when things got too much to handle.
Because it is what you told her. What you promised her. She will always have you.