natasha romanoff smut? nothing specific shes just so gorgeous đ
pairing: natasha romanoff x medic!fem!reader
warnings: smut, kissing, oral (r receiving,) fingering (r receiving,) cocky!nat, an attempt at banter, bad writing.
authorâs note: somehow this ended up being rushed even though it took a million years. blame my teachersâiâm pretty sure theyâre trying to actually kill me with homework.
âone of these days, youâll be able to get through a mission without my help.â
natasha laughs, and you shoot her a glare as youâre pressing band-aids into her cheek. she has no major injuries this time, just minor abrasions. shallow cuts. bruises.
âif i had a nickel,â you say, smearing ointment on a deeper cut on her jaw and then applying a band-aid over it, âfor every time you avenger assholes called me for something entirely unnecessary, i would be on a goddamn yacht and not at your beck and call.â
âmaybe i like seeing your pretty face,â natasha replies with an exaggerated wink. flirting with you seems to bring her such particular joy because of your sardonic reactions.
âyouâre a bastard,â you grumble. âyou canât apply your own bandaids?â
âyou do it better than i do.â
you roll your eyes, and lean back, dropping the spare supplies that are out into your bag. natasha blinks once and runs her fingers over her face. she grins, and looks at you.
âthanks, detka,â she says with a wink.
ânext time you call me and youâre not actively dying, iâm going to let you go to voicemail. iâm going to look at my phone, say, âoh, itâs natasha,â and iâm going to fucking ignore it.â
âone of these days, you wonât be around, and iâm going to die a terrible, tragic death.â
âand iâll go to your funeral and bring you the ugliest goddamn flowers, and i will laugh.â
âi sure as fuck hope not. that would defeat the purpose of my job.â
natasha shakes her head helplessly, and grins at you again. damn that stupid grin. damn her stupid, sparkly eyes. you roll your eyes, looking away as you wipe ointment off your hands.
âcan you check my temperature?â she asks. you glance at her. she raises an eyebrow. âi feel warm.â
âusually, if you have a fever, youâll feel cold,â you reply, reaching and resting the back of your hand on her forehead. she does feel warm. you reach for your kit again, intending to find the thermometer.
natasha catches your hand as you pull away, bringing you back to her and resting your hand on her cheekbone. she presses your palm to her lips, her eyes flickering up to yours, unreadable from below her lashes.
warm static arcs up your arm from your palm, and you find you suddenly canât breathe properly. natashaâs flirting was never something you took seriously; she seemed to flirt with most anyone, if she could. and yetâŠ
âgot something to say, detka?â she asks archly.
you look at her for a moment; at her lips, at her eyes, at her hair, at her collarbone, and back at her again. you look at her, and you feel like youâll never get tired of looking at her, not ever.
âyeah, i do have something to say,â you say, finding your voice again. âwhy kiss my hand when you could kiss my lips?â
natasha laughs, and takes that as the invitation it is. she pulls you down and kisses you. slowly, gently. sheâs barely there at allâand yet sheâs everywhere, a shudder of warmth under your skin and filling you up like a cup of cocoa on a cold day.
she lets out a breath, and kisses you harder, drawing you closer by the back of your neck. she tastes likeâlike natasha, like everything she should taste like, and sheâs so warm, all tongue and lips and teeth. she kisses you over and over and over again, like itâs all sheâs wanted to do and all she ever will do.
when she breaks, itâs like sheâs taken all the breath from your lungs with her. you open your eyes to gaze at her. she looks back, with all the love in the world in her eyes, and kisses you on the very tip of your nose. you let out a startled laugh, the embarrassing, unexpected kind that bursts from your sternum and makes you crinkle your nose.
she leans down and seals her lips against your neck, right where it meets your jaw, and your eyelashes flutter. you feel a thousand times more sensitive, more warm, like youâve had an entire bottle of wine or like youâre under an aphrodisiac. but thatâs just her. thatâs just what natasha does to you.
she kisses your neck again, shifting downwards, and grabs your shirt lightly. gently. questioningly. she looks up at you, asking without asking, and you nod quickly. she pulls your shirt off your head, and her lips are everywhere she can reachâyour neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast, down, down, downâ
she hesitates at your jeans, thumbing the button questioningly, and glances up at you. you nod fervently, and help her pull them off you, your underwear soon following. natasha parts your thighs with ease, and ducks down until sheâs level with your cunt.
cold air parts her lips, making you shudder and gasp, and she leans in and laps lightly at your clit. arousal and pleasure spike up your spine, and warmth blossoms up your lower belly, running feather light touches all over your body.
she presses her pinky inside you first, and you moan, shuddering in on yourself slightly. she lets it just sit for a moment, letting you adjust, and then curls it slowly, before she pulls out completely and adds her ring finger. you canât really stifle the embarrassing noises falling from your lips, and youâre half afraid if you move everything will fall apart like a dream.
this isnât a dream, thoughânatasha feels warm, and soft, but real, and living. her fingers inside of youâpumping and thrustingâare real. very, very real, tugging threads of warmth and pleasure in your body like an instrument.
you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure and warmth, the seconds ticking past both in a slow drag and in a rapid pulse, falling in time with your heartbeat. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer, gradually at first and then faster, and then faster, and then youâre so damn closeâ
âtashaââ you say, your voice cracking somewhat embarrassingly. âi-iâmâreally closeââ
âgood,â she purrs, âcum for me, then, detka.â
natasha crooks her fingers one more time, and with a shaky sort of groan, you cum on her fingers. you gasp and shake all through it, and squirm off when the high fades and the pleasure starts to burn.
âi love you,â natasha says, as if she hasnât been saying with with her eyes and her body and her touch this whole time. âdid i tell you that?â
âin a way,â you reply, pulling her to kiss you again. âyour turn?â
ânah,â natasha replies, shrugging. at your questioning look, she shoots you a smug grin. âyou help me out a lot. figured it was time to return the favor.â
âIâm not scared about her cheating on me. Iâm worried that one day, sheâs going to wake up and see the drool coming from my mouth, the stretch marks littering my thighs and the crater-like pimples that adorn my face and back and realise just how ugly i think i am. The ugly that i hoped that youâd never notice because youâve said from the beginning how beautiful i am and iâve slowly been starting to believe you. The ugliness that i have when iâm overly jealous or insecure or the ugliness when i canât leave the bed and it hurts to breathe. The ugliness when i scream and screech about how you didnât pick up your towel or forgot to wipe down the table, again. So no, to answer your question, iâm not scared about her cheating on me. Iâm scared sheâs going to start seeing me the way i see myself.â
- from the girl that is too scared to tell her loverÂ
Hiya, a big congrats to you!! Here's to your next milestone!! Have you done anything/bought anything to celebrate? What was it like when you found out? So if I may, could I request with mob (or boss) wanda, fluff 15 and smut 7 (her saying both) with yn taking wands strap in her mouth ;3 (um and I dont know if you are comfortable with it, but if the strap could be one of those fake cum ones please that would be just đđ€€đ„”) please and thank you!!!
prompts: 15. âIâm the luckiest person in the world, arenât I?â (fluff) & 7. âGo on, be a good girl for meâ (smut)
a/n: ahh! thank you sm bub! It was v weird to know that a thousand people now follow me but also ,, I feel grateful to know that they enjoy my writing? idk lmaO & I bought myself some cool ass toe stops as a celebratory gift đ
blurb requests are closed! 18+ readers please!
Wanda pulled you close, pressing soft kisses against your jaw and moving down to your neck as you moaned softly, feeling her fingers press into your skin over your shirt.
âGodâ Wanda groaned out, pulling your flush against her as she pulled away. Her hand came up to lay on your cheek as you leaned into her touch, turning your head slightly to kiss her palm.
âIâm the luckiest person in the world, arenât I?â Wanda said as you smiled at her, leaning up and pecking her lips softly. Slowly moving down, you got down on your knees, looking up at Wanda as she gasped softly, looking down at you.
âFuckâ she groaned. Unbuttoning her pants, the silicone strap popped out freely as you pulled her closer by her thighs before grabbing ahold of the silicone in your hand. Spitting on it, you moved your hand diligently up and down as you looked up at Wanda, awaiting your next command.
âBe a good girl for me, go onâ Wanda said, placing her hands softly on your head, her fingers massaging your scalp softly as you placed the strap into your mouth, slowly going down and coming back up, with a pop leaving your mouth.
Wanda moaned, watching you being so compliment only made her head buzz. Suddenly her hands held your head still as she began to slowly fuck your mouth, before picking up the pace as gagging and choking noises left your mouth.
Your skin felt hot as you tapped Wandaâs thighs, hearing shuffling outside Wandaâs office. The fear of someone walking in set in your stomach but it mixed with them finding you like that, seeing whoâs you were.
Pulling back with gasp, you looked up at Wanda as you heard someone walk by. âThe doorâ you managed out, your voice a bit hoarse as Wand a turned to the door and shook her head.
âLet them find us, see how much of a good girl you areâ
Request: Yesssss pls do the part ii to Honey, I Love You!! Like maybe if itâs somewhat angsty, but ends with âIâve never stopped loving youâ vibes? by Anon
maybe âI donât dress up anymore. Thatâs for kidsâ for Mildred (and Gwen?) đ„ș
Okay first of all, this is the first thing Iâve written for Mildred x Gwen and for some reason my brain went âhey you know whatâd be fun? Letâs write it from Gwenâs POVâ so yeah. That happened. And then this happened. I hope you like it!! I got a bit carried away đ
Special thanks to @welshdragonrawr for coming up with this idea and being so kind about me writing it down by accident. And also to @flungoutofspacebelivets for drawing Mildred and Gwen in these costumes and getting that incredible image stuck in my head.
~Happy Halloween, my little peaches! đđâš~
âSheâs Good and Sheâs Bad and Sheâs All Iâve Gotâ -- Gwendolyn Briggs x Mildred Ratched
World Count: ~3,000
Warnings: None
âI donât want to do that.âÂ
It was maybe the fourth time those words had come out of Mildredâs mouth, always directed at Gwendolyn and always spaced out the same way. With the same inflection.Â
And the same hurt followed in their wake every time.Â
âAlright,â Gwendolyn tried, fingers playing over the seam at her knee. âAlright, it was just a suggestion. We donât have toââ
âI donât dress up anymore. Thatâs for children.âÂ
And the way it came out of her mouth, so simple, so nonchalant. Like it was a rule of the universe and Gwendolyn was stupid not to understand.Â
She almost snapped, almost lost her patience. But for some reason the words wouldnât come, and so she sat in silence, staring down into her lap as Mildredâs eyes bored a hole in her head.Â
âI thought it might be fun, thatâs all,â Gwendolyn tried softly.Â
But Mildred didnât respond, and the air hung between them, and it was only after Gwendolyn heard the rustle of fabric being pinched and pulled, the soft scrape of nails against skin, that she looked up.Â
Oh.Â
The heat under Mildredâs eyes was gone, gaze gathered up and toppled off and falling somewhere distant. Not quite past Gwendolyn, not quite at the wall.Â
Her fingers skimmed up the side of her arm, scratching softly as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.Â
âMildred,â Gwendolyn tried carefully, hands smoothing over her knees. And when Mildred didnât respond, Gwendolyn was up, crossing the room to her and bundling her up in her arms.Â
There was a secondâs hesitation. Just like there always was. Where Gwendolyn would pause and search her face and smooth her hands down her arms. But when no resistance came, she had Mildred tucked safely against her in seconds, holding her head against her shoulder and rubbing a hand slowly down her back.Â
Mildred sniffled, fingers finding Gwendolynâs waist and twisting tightly into the extra fabric that pooled there.Â
âItâs alright, youâre okay,â Gwendolyn cooed, shushing Mildred softly and scratching lightly at her scalp.Â
Another sniff, the smallest of whimpers, and then Mildred broke, deflating in Gwendolynâs arms as the tears fell and she shook around gasps.Â
âI donât want to do that,â Mildred whimpered, her voice pitched up that soft way it always did when she cried, thick with tears and sticking against sobs.Â
And as Gwendolyn held her tight and stroked her hair and pushed kisses to her temple, trying any and every way to calm her down, a light went off somewhere in her memory, and everything clicked together.Â
She cleared her throat, pulling away from Mildred just so and ducking to meet her eyes. They were squeezed shut, though, so she hooked a finger under her chin and raised her face to look at her, kissing her nose.Â
Mildredâs eyes fluttered open and Gwendolyn grinned at her, brow pushed up as she brushed a thumb over her bottom lip.Â
Trying to distract herself from that hurt that came springing back into her chest, hot and sour and stabbing. Trying to distract Mildred from the inevitable pity that she couldnât quite keep from her eyes.Â
âTell me?â Gwendolyn whispered, searching Mildredâs eyes. Because she knew. This was delicate. This fraction of a moment, where Mildredâs past was right here, consuming her from bottom to top. She had pulled her walls up tight, she had let them crumble down. And now, this was the third part.Â
Either she would take a deep breath and open her mouth and let everything fall out, completely raw, or her hand would slide into Gwendolynâs and she would close her eyes and close off her heart, and Gwendolyn would take her to bed or to the couch and hold her until she fell asleep.Â
It hadnât happened many times. Gwendolyn could probably count them on one hand. But there was something about this woman, something about the way she built herself up from ground level and pulled her layers on, starting deep around her heart and finishing with gloves and a matching hat. Gwendolyn couldnât take her eyes off of her. And maybe she was going crazy. Maybe Mildred made her crazy. But she wanted to memorize every tiny detail until Mildred blinked and Gwendolyn knew exactly what she was thinking.Â
So she made it a point to pay attention. Deep down, she had this instinct that it was what Mildred needed. Wanted. Someone to pay attention, who was desperate to learn. Someone who took the time and took the care and wanted all of her, no matter what.Â
And so she tried her best with the masterpiece before her. Tried her best to be patient and kind and never push too far. Not after Mildred had been so vulnerable with her.Â
It was almost funny, given how easy it had been to lose her temper with her at the beginning. When they had just started and she didnât know hardly anything about her, had never seen those deep layers. That day her whole life had flashed before her eyes, Mildred standing right there in her sitting room, in the same shirt she had worn when she had broken Gwendolynâs heart. When she had stormed out of that bar and looked at Gwendolyn with such... disgust. And then she was back, and so much time had gone by, so much had happened, and Gwendolyn was preparing to die. Slowly. Alone. And Mildred had walked straight through her front door and saved her.Â
And from that moment, she had always tried to do her best with her. Had always tried to be patient, as Mildred always was with her. And she had always tried to understand, even though she knew she never could.Â
Which is why, when Mildredâs fingers started falling from her waist down towards her hand, Gwendolyn mentally prepared herself to hold Mildred through the night, turning their porch lights off and cooing at her every time she inevitably jumped when the neighborhood children knocked on the door.Â
Gwendolyn was already thinking about how quickly she could scoop Mildred up and take her upstairs before she completely shut down, when Mildred stopped, fingers skimming over her wrist, and took a long breath in.Â
Gwendolyn froze, pulling back just so and waiting. Waiting.Â
Mildred worried her lip between her teeth, fingers brushing absently over Gwendolynâs arm and eyes pinned to the floor. And when she sighed the breath out and raised her eyes to Gwendolyn, pupils dilated and opening deep windows into her soul, Gwendolyn swallowed. Centered herself. And threw every single thought out of her mind until she was centered entirely in this moment, in this woman.Â
âDo you remember,â Mildred started slowly, eyes flicking down to Gwendolynâs shoulder as her fingers found the line of her blazer and rubbed up and down and up again. âWhen I told you about the puppet theatre...â
Gwendolyn nodded, that searing heat back with a vengeance and pressing against her heart.Â
âAnd do you remember when I told you that Edmund used to have toââ
She cut off and Gwendolyn threaded their fingers together, nodded as she cupped Mildredâs cheek with her other hand.Â
âI remember, darling. I remember everything.â
Mildred leaned into her hand, eyes dropping shut against tears that fell too fast and too hard against her cheeks. And when Gwendolyn reached out to swipe them with her thumb, Mildred bit into her lip and her fingers tapped over Gwendolynâs jacket, pushing and pricking and letting out all of her nervous energy.Â
âI never had a Halloween. Edmund nor I. Not until we got to their house. Sometimes, at the old houses, we would sneak a chocolate from the kitchen or go to the local store, and Edmund would distract the cashier while I grabbed a candy bar or two. I would hide them in my coat, under my bed, beneath a floorboard. Anywhere, as long as no one would find them. And then we would share them, deep into the night. Save them for those bad days where the future seemed impossible. Just for a piece of hope.â
Gwendolyn barely moved, barely breathed. Tried as hard as she could to keep herself still and let Mildred get everything out.Â
âWhen she told me... that I got to dress up? I was elated. I was finally going to get to be a normal little girl. I was finally going to feel special. Pretty.â
âMildred...â Gwendolyn murmured, thumb tracing her cheekbone almost against her will.Â
But Mildred only shook her head, patting Gwendolynâs jacket with a sad smile and moving towards the couch.Â
She sat down effortlessly, just like she always did, and Gwendolyn had to physically stop herself from going into that deep introspective place, where she wondered and worried and wanted to understand just how someone so broken could seem so perfectly composed day after day, year after year.Â
Impossible.Â
Gwendolyn hadnât realized she had hesitated until Mildred whispered her name, eyes wide and pleading as she pulled her knees to her chest and burrowed herself down into the corner of the couch.Â
But then she snapped back to reality, to Mildredâs hand reaching for her and tears clouding her eyes with unasked pleas.Â
Sit with me. Stay with me. Donât leave me when I love you like this.Â
Gwendolynâs fingers were threading with hers in an instant, sitting down opposite her on the couch and holding her hand between them. Thumb brushing lightly over her wrist. But she didnât dare pull Mildred closer. Not yet. She needed space to breathe if she was going to finish this.Â
âI did feel pretty, you know. That first time.â Mildredâs chin wobbled, but she held her composure, nails digging just a bit too hard into Gwendolynâs hand. âShe came to my room with the biggest, kindest smile I can remember. Dressed me up in a beautifully simple white nightgown and sat me down at the vanity and brushed my hair.â
Her fingers came up and touched the neat little bun at the base of her neck, delicately, like she could still feel the womanâs hands threading through it.Â
âI looked like a perfect little doll,â Mildred whispered, and suddenly Gwendolyn felt tears in her own eyes. Because oh this woman. This poor little girl trapped inside of a fully formed human. Still so broken and wanting and needy, grabbing for anything and everything to hold herself still and hold herself together.Â
It had taken too long, but Gwendolyn had found the vulnerable little bird fluttering around in Mildredâs heart, almost too weak to fly anymore. Her hope almost extinguished. The darkness of those cages she had placed around it enough to suffocate the fragile thing and stop its wings from beating.Â
And yet here she was. Never stopping. Never giving up, no matter how impossible life seemed. So strong and optimistic and brave from such a young age. Gwendolyn didnât think she could have done it. Not when she was that little, focusing on things that seemed so trivial now, like school and friends and trick or treatingâÂ
A knot twisted in Gwendolynâs stomach and she cleared her throat softly, her other hand coming to cover Mildredâs.Â
âWe donât have to do anything today,â Gwendolyn tried softly. âI am so sorry. I had no idea.â
But to her surprise, Mildred shook her head. âNo, itâs not thatâ I want to dress up, Gwendolyn. I want to have the Halloween that I never got as a child. I want to do it because you want to do it. And I think... I think it could be fun.â
And just like that, it happened again. Gwendolyn was completely surprised by this woman. Shocked and flipped on her head and completely lost. Completely in awe.Â
âYou do?â She asked softly, afraid to scare her off, afraid to push her too hard and trigger something and hurt her in any way, however unintentional.Â
But Mildred only nodded, a small smile playing across her lips.Â
Gwendolyn was across the couch in a second, bundling Mildred up in her arms. And Mildred broke. Just like that. The tears came hard and fast and then she was clinging to Gwendolyn, fingers gripped so tightly into her arm that there would absolutely be bruises tomorrow. But Gwendolyn hardly noticed. All she comprehended was this enigma before her, so raw and open and vulnerable after closing herself off so many times, after shutting so many people out. She always let Gwendolyn in. She always tried. Somehow, after Gwendolyn had been shot, everything had changed. She was softer, she put so much effort into every decision that she made. Â
Gwendolyn could see the way she constantly warred with herself. Could see it behind her eyes or in the little way her fingers would pick at her sleeve or pull at the seam of the couch or fidget on her fork when they ate.Â
But no matter what happened, no matter how closed off she seemed, Mildred always tried, and she was opening up, slower and slower. Bit by bit.Â
Mildred gasped against her chest and Gwendolyn cooed at her, stroking her hair so softly it could have been glass. She pressed kisses anywhere she could reach, her hair or her temple or her cheek. And eventually Mildredâs breathing steadied out.
She huffed out long breaths as her fingers loosened on Gwendolynâs arms and then she was skimming them down, across, over her shoulders. Pulling Gwendolyn into a proper hug.Â
âI want to do this for you...â Mildred whispered, and Gwendolynâs heart skipped a beat.
âWe donât have to, darling. We donât have to do anything youâre not comfortable with. We can go upstairs and I can get a bottle of wine and we can have a nice night inââ
And this time it was Mildred who shushed her, pulling back to look her in the eye.Â
âI want to. I want to at least try.âÂ
Gwendolyn found herself nodding at the sincerity of Mildredâs gaze. The soft, pliable way her words came out of her. So honest.Â
âAlright.â
And Mildred smiled again. This time bigger. Wider. Her tongue peeked out behind her teeth and her eyes crinkled at the corners.Â
âGood.â
And Gwendolyn found herself beaming, in spite of everything.Â
âGood.â
~~~Â
It hadnât taken long to get her upstairs and sat in the vanity chair. Hadnât taken long to convince her to unpin the bottom of her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders.Â
It had taken a bit of convincing for Mildred to put on the dress Gwendolyn had bought for her, black and velvet and just a bit shorter than it should have been.Â
It had taken even more convincing to get her into the fishnet stockings, Mildred looking at her like she had three heads before Gwendolyn smirked and laid them out on the bed, an idea forming.Â
Gwendolyn had left her there with a small kiss to her lips, pulling her costume on quickly in the bathroom and fluffing out her curls. And when she returned, witchâs hat in hand, Mildredâs mouth practically fell open. And suddenly she didnât seem to have an issue with the stockings, as long as Gwendolyn was kissing up her leg as she pulled them on for her.Â
After that it had been easy. The heels, the little black ribbon tied around her throat. And Mildred even ducked her head with a small smirk as Gwendolyn set the cat-eared headband atop her head, careful to mind her pins and her curls and not to pull anything too tight.Â
She had placed Mildred in front of the vanity mirror, pressing soft kisses to her neck as Mildred admired herself.Â
âSee? Youâre beautiful.â
Mildred had scoffed, shaking her head and lowering her gaze, but Gwendolyn was right there, reaching around her and tilting her chin back up and turning Mildredâs head to the side so that she could kiss her properly.Â
âYouâre stunning.â
The doorbell rang before Gwendolyn could get Mildredâs dress off, as heated as the kiss had gotten, and Mildred had giggled as Gwendolyn huffed and fussed over her hair and her hat, trying to get it into something presentable after Mildredâs hands had torn through it like a lifeline.Â
Gwendolyn was just at the base of the stairs, stopping in her tracks as Mildredâs eyes widened and she took a small step back, almost twenty kids piled on their doorstep.Â
But instead of yelling âtrick or treatâ, they all stood silent, eyes big as saucers as they stared at her. And then one girl, no more than seven or eight, spoke up.Â
âWow... youâre beautiful.â
Mildred stiffened for a moment, glancing back at Gwendolyn for reassurance. But Gwendolyn only smiled, brow raised as she dared Mildred to question the child.Â
And then Mildred beamed, reaching over to the credenza and grabbing the bowl of candy Gwendolyn had set out. She let out a soft âthank youâ before dropping candy in the little girlâs bag, in each of the bags, one by one, complimenting the childrenâs costumes like she had done this a million times.Â
And somehow, when Mildred waved goodbye and shut the door and set the candy bowl down, turning to face Gwendolyn with the biggest smile in the universe plastered across her face, almost dazed by the compliment and the experience and the normalcy of it all, Gwendolyn thought that they might just share a million more Halloweens after all.Â
And that might just be the best thing in the world.Â
Tag List: @thatgirlintheleatherjacket @shineestark @duchessfics @darling-dontforgetme @midnight-lestrange @nerdaroo @pradababey @mssallymckenna
Summary: Youâre Cordeliaâs wife, and unfortunately your mother in law - and Supreme - Fiona Goode isnât happy about your relationship.
The blonde woman held her lit cigarette between two gloved fingers, dressed in a black dress that hugged her body tightly.
âYou see, my daughter has always been my biggest disappointment,â She started after a minute of silently contemplating you, the harsh words making you furrow your eyebrows as you looked up at her from the place where you sat on one of the kitchenâs chair. âCordelia has so much potential, but here she is,â She waved one nonchalant hand towards the white walls of the Academy that surrounded you as if she couldnât quite believe that Cordelia wouldâve settled for a quiet life in a place like this.
You took one breath in, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible while under the scrutinizing gaze of Fiona Goode herself.
This was between her and Cordelia, you had no use telling your Supreme - and, unfortunately, mother in law - off for the things she was saying to you, no matter how much you hated every word she spoke with a seething rage as she insisted on offending the woman you love.
âI can see potential in you, too, but I must admit that this particular thing going on between you two doesnât please me in the slightest.â Great way to say just how much she doesnât like the fact that youâre with her daughter, such a nice person she is to her family. âYou hold her back.â
Yeah, Y/N, she really is out here telling you just how your potential doesnât matter because you hold your wife back from achieving her full potential. This woman is never around her daughter, this is the first time youâre meeting her after five years of being with Cordelia, and this is one of the first things she decides to tell you.
âIs that so?â You drawl in a disinterested voice, already feeling tired of her bullshit. Fionaâs eyes narrowed in response as she looked down at you with such a dangerous glint in her eyes that it had you uncomfortably leaning farther away from her in your chair, knowing of her awful habit of throwing witches against the walls in rage.
She pressed the cigarette against the clean counter without minding about the way she was dirtying the white piece of furniture. âListen here, little witch-â
âWhat is happening here?â The soft voice of your girlfriend interrupted what looked like some very terrifying threat, glaring at her mother and looking like she knew exactly what was about to happen.
Fiona chuckled lowly, turning around to smirk at her daughter without giving much mind about being caught giving you a warning. âI was just having a conversation with Miss Y/N here, but we can talk later.â
Cordelia arched one eyebrow, watching her mother leave with disapproving eyes. You sighed in relief once the Supreme was out of sight, leaning your head back against the chair.
It was mentally and physically exhaustive to be in the same room as Fiona Goode.
Now you understood exactly why Cordelia would rather you never meet the woman.
âWhat did she tell you?â Cordelia inquired, approaching your tired form with worry in her bright eyes.
You look up at her, hooking two fingers in the waistband of her pants and using them to pull her closer. âShe thinks I hold you back from achieving your full potential.â
You speak with a mocking tone, way too confident in your relationship with your wife to fall for the words of a woman that clearly did not approve of this marriage and would say anything to ruin it. However, contrary to you, Cordelia seems to take it a little more seriously than you did.
âYou donât believe this, do you?â Your favorite witch scoffs exasperatedly, frowning. âYou could never hold me back. Never. You make me stronger, you make me want to be better, you know that, right?â
Your eyes widen in surprise at the small outburst of her feelings, surprised to see just how much something that didnât bother you at all had Cordelia so worked up.
âOf course I do, Delia.â Your hand slips away from her pants to, instead, intertwine your fingers together as you held her hand, softening your voice to reassure her. Against your skin, you fell the cold touch of the wedding ring that never left her finger, and you lean in to kiss her ringed finger with reverence. âWhat she says doesnât matter, I know better than believing her words.â
Cordelia sighed. âShe insists that the way I live is a mistake.â The blonde huffs, shaking her head. âBut I love you, you make me the happiest woman alive.â
She didnât have to say it again for you to believe it. Cordeliaâs words were the truth for you always, you trusted your wife with your whole being without ever doubting her, Cordelia meant the world to you.
You smile, pulling her down by the hand until she bends over to kiss you, pouring in this one touch all of your feelings for her. âI love you, too.â
Such a shame Fiona couldnât let go of her resolve.
Nothing beats the feeling when you start getting comments on every fic in a fandom or ship from one person, and itâs clear that theyâre going on a fic-binge.Â
hnnng, I love watching people binge my fic. Like watching the kudos notifs for three days of âX left kudos on Yâ and the notifs of comments on like⊠multiple chapters from them and multiple fics. I love that shit
