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Mommy's Milk ~VH

warnings: dad!vinnie, nipple play, tantrum (child.) request; can you do one where y/n and vinnie have a son that is two years old and him and vinnie always fight over her boobs a/n: changed the age to 4 years old

You giggled, "Vinnie!!" he was chasing you down the hall way as you ran to your shared room of your house. You had moved out of the Hype House when you had gotten pregnant with his child and now you have a four year old son named Matthew. You were wearing one of his shirts and nothing underneath as he chased after you. You had slapped his ass in the kitchen and he was trying to get you back but you ran away. You got to your room and turned around and looked at him as you back up into the bed, letting your legs hit it as you giggled. He walked up to you and smiled as he tackled you onto the bed. You giggled up at him and pulled him down for a kiss. He kissed you back and smiled into the kiss.

He pulled away and smiled, "How much time do we have until Matthew wakes up?"

"Uhm, fifteen minutes I think." you blushed at him.

"Perfect." he takes off your shirt which left you completely naked. He stared at your tits as they were perfectly round and your nipples got hard from the coldness. He leaned down and sucked on your left nipple, he took your right boob into his hand and massaged it. You moaned softly biting your lip closing your eyes.

"So good baby." you moaned as he pulled off your nipple and teasingly licked it. He moved to your other nipple giving it the same treatment. He pulled off your tits and smiled at them as he took them both into his hands massaging them.

"Daddy! Stop it! Those are my boobies!" Matthew whined as he walked into the room which caused you both to jump and look over at them. Vinnie covered them with his hands as he frowns at him.

"Hey! These were mine first before you." he frowned.

You looked at Vinnie, "Don't fight with him."

Vinnie looked at you, "It's true. Before he was born, these were mine." He looked over at Matthew as he climbed up onto the bed.

"Daddy! Mine!" he goes to reach for your boob but Vinnie covers them with his arms.

"No Matthew, they are mine." Vinnie frowned at him as Matthew whined.

"Daddy! Stop!" he whined loudly looking at him, "Mommy!" he makes grabby hands towards you.

"Vin get off." you sit up and grab your shirt putting it back on and he grab Matthew sitting him on your lap. Vinnie lays down on the side of you watching you. You rubbed Matthews back as he cuddled your chest. "Matty baby, did you have a good nap?" he nodded.

"Yes mommy." He cuddled you as you lay down next to Vinnie and you rub Matthews back as you lay him down on your chest. "Mommy, i want milk." he looks up at you pouting.

"Okay, lay here-..." you went to go get up but he whines.

"No mommy from here." he points to your boobs.

You giggled and looked at Vinnie who was smiling at you, "See what you did." you looked at Matt, "Babe mommy doesn't have milk in there."

"That's my milk Matty." Vinnie says chuckling, "Daddy drank all of it."

Matthew whines and sits up on your stomach crossing his arms, "That's not fair, i want some."

"Vinnie! Matthew, mommy doesn't have any in there!" you whined pouting looking at Vinnie, "See what you did, come on."

"What? Come on it's funny. They are mine anyways." Vinnie kisses your cheek.

"You both are so annoying." you groaned.

...

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little cold. You look down and see both Vinnie and Matthew are resting their heads on your naked chest sleeping. Vinnie had one hand over your clothed core and his mouth was open over your tit. Matthew had his mouth on your nipple sleeping. You shook your head sighing, "Weirdos." You moved Matthew off of you and you pushed Vinnie off of you and pulled your shirt down. You turned over so your back was facing Vinnie as you cuddled into Matt pulling him close to your chest. You felt Vinnie wrap his arms around you pulling you close to his chest. He pushed his hard on against your ass as he puts his hand under your shirt squeezing your tit. He kisses your neck as you bite your lip, "Vin..."

"Shhh...let me make you feel good." he whispers in your ear as he kisses your neck more.

"But what about Matty?" you pouted looking back at Vinnie.

He groans, "Fuck fine." he cuddles you closing his eyes.

"I love you Vin."

"I love you too y/n."

a/n: sorry this was so short, i was trying my best to like not make it as sexual and shit. hope you enjoyed it

wait for me to come home

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 14.1k

You and Alexia have been best friends your whole lives. You’re adamant that moving away from Barcelona won’t change a thing between you. Alexia fears otherwise.

or classic best friends to lovers :)

“Can’t believe you’re really leaving.” It was midnight. You were sitting on your usual spot at the beach with Alexia, your head on her shoulder, both of you staring out at the sea. Despite the tightness in her chest, Alexia felt at ease with you next to her.

“I can’t believe it either,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

Alexia took a deep breath. You were only going away for a year, you said. It did nothing to calm the nerves she felt all over. One year, but that would be the longest you've been away from each other. Alexia still didn’t know how to feel, she didn’t know what to feel. She figured it still hadn’t sunk in, that you were leaving. Leaving her.

In the morning when Alexia would drop you off at the airport and you’d wave goodbye, that was probably when she’d feel everything. That was probably when the feeling of emptiness would set.

“I’ll call you everyday,” you said, hugging Alexia’s left arm tightly. “It will be like I’m still in Barcelona with you.”

Alexia chuckled, “You don’t have to call me everyday, cariño.”

You turned your head towards your best friend. “Are you saying you don’t want me to call everyday?”

“Don’t twist my words!” Alexia laughed. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel pressured to have to call me everyday. You’re a busy woman. I’m the one who waits for you whenever you have night shifts and I watch enough of your Meredith Grey shows to know how busy things at the hospital can be.”

You snickered at her mention of Grey’s Anatomy. Alexia would always complain about how unrealistic the show was whenever you put it on, yet she still stayed by your side and watched the damn thing. You placed your head back on her shoulder and sighed. “I don’t care if I’m busy, I’ll always make time for you.”

Alexia gulped. It was the way you said it, your voice small, yet your tone firm, as if a world where you didn’t have time for her was just impossible. “I love you, you know.”

Alexia furrowed her brows when you didn’t answer straight away like you always did. She was about to open her mouth to say something, when you pulled away and stood up, stretching your hand out for her to take.

“Do you want to head back?” Alexia asked.

“No,” you cleared your throat. “Let’s just walk around. The sand is making me itchy.”

“It’s because you’re wearing shorts,” Alexia took your hand and stood up. “I told you you can sit on my lap, you didn’t listen.”

You dusted off the sand from the back of your legs. “Didn’t want to.”

“Why? It’s comfy.”

“How would you know? You’ve never sat on your own lap before,” you said, your tone teasing.

“Idiota.” 

You kept walking along the beach, swinging your arms back and forth. It was quiet, but nice. Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence. Alexia felt her heart twinge when she realized that she didn’t know when she’d have another moment like this with you.

“Y/n,” Alexia spoke up after a few moments.

You hummed in reply.

This felt really nice, the way your hands were intertwined… Your shoulders bumping every now and then… Everything felt so right. Alexia took a deep breath and tried her best to not let herself get too emotional. She didn’t want to cry just yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she did.

“Ale, what were you going to say?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Alexia immediately shook her head, reminding herself not to let those words slip. She looked down and focused on the way her feet were kicking the sand with every step she took forward. “Nothing.”

You brought Alexia’s hand up to your lips and kissed the back of it. It was something you always did, but it still made Alexia’s heart drop every time. 

Maybe it was because the gesture had always made Alexia fall for you even more, or maybe it was because Alexia knew the platonic way it meant to you when Alexia wanted more than that.

“I know you, Ale,” you stopped walking and turned towards her. “You’re thinking about something.”

“Hm? What makes you think so?”

You poked Alexia’s forehead softly. “You have that crinkle between your brows. And you’ve been biting your lip for the past few minutes.”

Alexia hated the fact that you knew her so well, because it meant that she could never hide anything from you. The only thing Alexia successfully kept hidden were her feelings for you. Apart from that, you knew her better than anyone, and she was the same to you. 

Having known each other for more than two decades was a factor, but Alexia felt like it was simply because you were soulmates.

Alexia realized that no matter how hard she tried to move on from you, you would always be the one for her. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, she knew it would never change how she felt about you. She made her peace with it.

“It’s nothing,” Alexia said once more. “I swear.” You seemed to take the hint and didn’t pry further.

You tugged her hand and continued on walking, Alexia turning her head to the side every now and then, observing you. It was dark, the street lights were dim, and the moonlight wasn’t too bright, yet Alexia can still mention every little detail of your face—she had memorized them all after years of looking at you—from your warm eyes, to the delicate bridge of your nose, and the curve of your small lips. You were so beautiful that Alexia always felt breathless every time she looked at you, despite having known you since you were kids.

In that moment, with you humming along to a random song, your right hand interlocked with Alexia’s left one, there was nothing Alexia wanted more than to just confess her feelings for you. But she knew that you didn’t feel the same way, so telling you would just be pointless.

You turned your head to look at Alexia, catching her staring at you with that look on her face, the one look that you never could quite comprehend. When your lips formed a soft smile, Alexia couldn’t help but instantly reciprocate. Your smile was beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your tone bashful.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m so, so in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts every time you smile.”

Alexia shrugged. “Just thinking about how I will miss you a lot.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “So that was what you were thinking about earlier?”

“No. I was thinking about how I’m so hopelessly in love with you.”

“You got me,” Alexia replied instead.

You sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll miss you too. At least you have a million pictures of me in your phone that you can look at if you’re missing me.”

Alexia laughed at that. “You better have a million pictures of me too.”

“Of course, I do,” you snickered. “Even you in diapers, I have them all.”

“No, you don’t!”

“I do! Eli sent them to me.” You had asked Eli for pictures of baby Alexia and she didn’t disappoint. They were adorable, especially the one where Alexia was learning how to crawl, wearing nothing but her diapers.

“You better not show it to anyone.”

“I’ll post it on Instagram before I leave.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, “You’re such a brat sometimes.”

“I’m such a brat?” you let go of Alexia’s hand to pull out your phone from your pocket. You stopped walking so Alexia stopped too, arms crossed, waiting for whatever it was you were doing.

After a few seconds of you scrolling silently through your phone, you flashed your screen to Alexia, showing the picture you mentioned before. “Want to say that again, Putellas?”

“You’re so annoying,” Alexia groaned. “I swear to god if you post that—”

“Watch me.” Your face was smug.

“Y/n,” Alexia said slowly, her tone full of warning.

You grinned, tapping something on the screen before you started running. The sound of your laughter getting smaller and smaller as you ran further away.

“That little—” Alexia cursed under her breath before she started running after you. “Tonta! Come back!”

“No!” Your figure was getting tinier and tinier that Alexia couldn’t help but laugh along.

Eventually, Alexia was able to catch up with you once you stopped running. Your hands were on your hips, trying to catch your breath.

“Why are you making me exercise at one in the morning?” Alexia asked, exhaling loudly.

You shrugged in reply, still out of breath. Alexia had always been the more athletic one out of the two of you. “Just wanted to run.”

“I’m so tired,” Alexia groaned. “Training was tough today.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew she was just being dramatic. “That was nothing. You need to exercise more, Ale.”

“The nerve!” Alexia barked out a laugh. “Who’s the athlete here?”

“Not you if that run tires you out.”

Alexia smiled fondly at you. You get on her nerves a lot. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now what did you do? Did you post that on Instagram? Because I’ll kill you, idiota.”

“Oh no, I’m sooo scared,” you mockingly said, a pout on your lips. “Oh nooo.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at you before she stepped forward and tickled your stomach.

“What are you—Alexia! Ale-Alexia stop it! Stop it right now!”

“Not until you delete that picture!” Alexia kept on tickling you. “Delete it!”

You were both laughing and Alexia didn’t show any signs of stopping until you tripped. You would’ve fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes, her arms immediately encircling around your waist.

You were staring at each other, your breath heavy from all the laughter that had long died out. Alexia felt dizzy. Your lips were so close to hers, Alexia could just lean forward and all her questions about how your lips taste would be answered. Alexia saw you blinking back a couple of times, she even swore she saw your eyes dart to her lips. 

The street lights were illuminating your features perfectly and Alexia could see your lips twitching slightly—as if you wanted to close the distance between you too.

Suddenly your phone rang, breaking you two apart. You cleared your throat and answered your phone. 

Alexia let out the deep breath she was holding, rubbing the back of her neck. She had a feeling that she would kiss you if the phone rang a second too late, which would be a disaster. She was thankful to whoever called, because she would never forgive herself if she ruined your friendship just because of her stupid feelings.

“Sorry,” you said. “That was Leila, just asking what time I’d be at the airport tomorrow.”

“Right.” There it was again, the unsettling feeling in her stomach every time Leila was mentioned. Alexia swallowed hard, trying her best not to show her jealousy. She was the one who introduced you to Leila when you joined a night out with the Barcelona girls. Alexia didn’t know that you two would hit it off. She didn’t know that Leila would move to Manchester and shockingly, you got offered a job at one of the best hospitals in Manchester.

It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke.

Alexia had to keep reminding herself that you weren’t hers, that you had every right to be with whoever you wanted. Alexia had no right to be jealous.

“That’s very cool, by the way,” Alexia said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “How you two are somehow going to the same country, same city.”

“Yeah, Codi said it was fate or something.” 

Fate? Me tripping over your leg at the playground when we were five was fate. Me immediately crying and you wiping my tears away until my mom came was fate. That was meant to happen because it made my mom invite you and your mom over for dinner, and it made us become best friends ever since. That was fate. Leila going to the same city as you was merely a coincidence. 

“Sure,” Alexia said, swallowing the bitterness in her mouth. “If that’s what you think.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or so and I’ll tell you if Leila and I are fated or not.”

Alexia didn’t answer, instead she just kept on staring at you, taking in the sight of you standing in front of her for the last time.

In the morning, you were leaving. You’d have a new life in Manchester, one that Alexia wouldn’t be a big part of, seeing how she was all the way in Barcelona. 

Alexia tried to bury deep, deep inside the pain that kept on reappearing every now and then, but it was getting increasingly difficult with the way you looked back at her—your eyes full of tenderness, as if you felt the same way Alexia did, as if it killed you to not be able to say exactly what you wanted to say. 

But Alexia shrugged it off. There was no time to think about these made-up scenarios in her head. You were leaving soon. 

Alexia stepped forward and hugged you as tight as she could, wanting to remember the way you felt in her embrace.

—

You kept your promise and called Alexia everyday. It lasted for two months before things became more hectic for the two of you and the daily calls stopped. In your defense, you really did try your best, but some days you had late night shifts and when you didn’t, you had date nights with Leila.

“Cariño! I haven’t heard your voice in two days! That is crazy. I was wondering if you were still alive.”

“Ha ha. So funny, Alexia.”

“Such a busy woman.”

Alexia was thriving even more if that was even possible, scoring more goals and assists, earning her more media duties and appearances. She was busy too.

You would catch her on your television sometimes, an interview or replays of her games. You were used to it, you knew Alexia before and after her rise to fame. But without the back and forth texts, without the calls and hearing her voice, without having her next to you, Alexia had never felt so out of reach.

“Hey, is it a bad time?”

“Hola, princessa. ‘m about to sleep. So tired. Call me tomorrow?”

“Okay, Ale. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you.”

Weeks with limited communication turned into months and the next thing you knew, you went from knowing everything about Alexia’s life, to finding out she had a girlfriend from your girlfriend.

Apparently Olga was a mutual friend. Leila had only good things to say about her.

You called Alexia that night, asking her about it. She didn’t have much to say, a tell-tale sign that she was uncomfortable, but why she was uncomfortable you couldn’t decipher it.

“Is she good to you at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she make you happy?”

“Sí.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

For the first time since you’ve known her, you felt like a stranger in Alexia’s life. You couldn’t tell exactly when things changed. It must’ve been the depleting texts sent each day, the less and less phone calls until it went down to none at all for a week or two, and when you two did have time for a call, it felt… awkward.

The first argument started when Alexia casually joked about how you were so busy and you didn’t have time for her anymore, how you have a more exciting life now in Manchester. She was laughing but you just got off a twelve hour shift at work and you were exhausted. 

“Like you’re not the same?” you fired back, feeling a headache coming through.

Instead of changing the subject like you hoped she would, Alexia rebutted your claim. “I do have time for you.”

You let out a laugh. “Between football and your new girlfriend? You don’t, Ale. Don’t act otherwise.”

“Wow. Okay.”

You seemed to instantly snap out of it at the tone of her voice. Alexia sounded hurt and for a second, you felt guilty for starting a fight. But what she said hurt you too, because even though she said it in a joking way, you knew she meant it.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m not in the mood.”

“Right, yeah. Bye.”

The arguments seemed to snowball after that first one. Your calls were still rare, but when you or Alexia forced yourselves to call the other, it didn’t end well.

That should be the first warning sign for you—how you felt forced to call her when you used to want to hear her voice all the time.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine.” 

“Can you at least act like you’re excited to talk to me?”

“If we’re just going to fight, Ale, you shouldn’t have called.”

“Whatever. Good night.”

The next thing you knew, there wasn’t a call that went by without some small, unimportant argument.

It got worse when you told her you weren’t staying for only one year as originally planned. You liked it here in Manchester. You had a good job and you were surrounded by wonderful people.

Alexia ignored you for the whole day only to call you early in the morning, her voice raspier than usual. You knew that meant she spent the night crying.

“You don’t know when you’ll be back?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back in Barcelona, no.”

“How am I supposed to go for… what? Another year without you? Two years? More?”

“You’ve been doing just fine so far. I don’t see the problem, Ale.”

“I miss you every night that you're not here. I don’t think that's doing ‘fine’.”

“Oh c’mon. We haven't been the same.”

“Just because we haven’t been talking as much doesn’t mean that I love you less, but whatever.”

It got even worse when you were supposed to fly back to Spain for Alexia’s birthday, but you had to cancel at the last minute because you were stuck with an emergency case at the hospital.

In hindsight, it was a stupid reason, something you could totally resolve by having one of your co-workers take over for you. But your mind went into overdrive, you somehow convinced yourself that you couldn’t leave the country.

Maybe it was out of fear of seeing Alexia again, not wanting to see how the distance had changed your dynamics.

Alexia’s reaction when you told her you weren’t going to be there hurt more than you could admit. 

“You’d never miss my birthday and I’d never miss yours. That was a promise.”

“We were seven, Alexia.”

Alexia didn’t say anything else and you didn’t need to see her face to know how dejected she was. You ignored the pain in your chest, convincing yourself that you were doing the right thing. You didn’t need to fly for more than two hours for someone’s birthday.

The old you would’ve screamed at you if she knew what you were doing. Alexia wasn’t just someone. She was… she was your everything and more. 

When midnight rolled around and you would usually be next to Alexia, wishing her a happy birthday with a present in hand, and instead you were all the way in Manchester, you felt that maybe you were dumb to let the arguments get in your head.

You took a deep breath and texted her a happy birthday. You weren’t sure if she would pick up if you called. 

Alexia didn’t reply to your text until noon that day, saying how she was off to celebrate with her family as usual and she’d call you after dinner. She didn’t mention Olga, but you knew she was there from Alba.

You sat in your apartment alone in the dark, Leila was out with her friends. It was only then that it dawned on you how lonely you were. You couldn’t imagine how Alexia was feeling—that was, if she still cared about you.

You had been there for Alexia’s birthday ever since she turned six years old. You didn’t think that you’d ever miss one, ever. But here you were.

It was weird to see Olga in place of you, seated between Eli and Alba as she grinned at Alexia blowing the candles out.

That used to be you.

Instead, you were in a different country, wishing you were at a place where someone else had claimed your spot. 

When it was way after dinner time and you still hadn’t heard from Alexia even though she said she’d call, you decided to send her a text. Something short and straight to the point: can I call you?

Alexia didn’t reply and you fell asleep with a feeling so hollow in your chest, you wondered if love was supposed to hurt this bad.

stop making promises you can’t keep, alexia

The loud ringing of your phone woke you up. You didn’t think that you’d see an incoming call from Alexia this early.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hello to you too, Ale.” Your tone was curt. In your defense, you had just woken up. 

“You’re picking a fight,” Alexia stated. “I don’t know why, but it’s not nice.”

“Picking a fight?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Is this about my text? I was simply telling you to stop making promises, because you can’t keep them. You told me you’d call me, you didn’t.”

You said it so accusatory that Alexia felt a sudden rush of anger. “You’re being ridiculous. I fell asleep. I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”

“I’m being ridiculous? Is it not me who had to wait for hours for your call?”

Alexia let out a bitter laugh. “Saying all that like I don’t usually have to wait hours and hours for you too?”

“Well, you’re the one with the empty promises. You promised me that things won’t be different between us, well. Look at us now.”

“That’s not entirely my fault and you know it. If we’re playing that game, you said you’d call me everyday, you said you’d always have time for me. Look at us now, cariño!”

Alexia never raised her voice at you. That was how you knew things were truly different now. “I was busy. Some days I have twelve hour shifts, Alexia,” you replied simply, not wanting to raise your voice too.

“Busy,” Alexia scoffed at you. “But you still have time to watch Leila’s games every week.”

You immediately felt defensive at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “Why are you dragging Leila into this?”

Alexia was about to give you a piece of her mind, about how having a quick call with her wasn’t as time consuming as watching a 90-minute football game, but you still had more to say.

“Leila has nothing to do with us turning into… into this mess!” So much for not wanting to raise your voice at her. “Besides, you have Olga too. You spent all your time with her and forgot the plans we made first.” You fired back at her, a part of you hated that Olga took your place, that Olga was able to be in Barcelona next to Alexia, doing all the things you used to do.

People would think you were jealous, but you weren’t. You just didn’t like her. You didn’t like that she was taking up too much of Alexia’s time. That wasn’t jealousy.

“What plans? If I forgot something, then tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader, Y/n.”

“What was I supposed to do? Ask you to pick between Olga and I? Why would I do that when I know you’ll pick her!”

(You might sound a little crazy. But you wouldn't admit that to anyone. In your defense, it was hard being demoted to second choice.)

“What’s your problem with Olga?” Alexia accused you, she knew you all too well.

“I have no problem with her. What's your problem with Leila?”

“Don’t change the subject. I was once your best friend, I know you more than anyone, and I know how you usually are when you don’t like someone.”

The use of past tense shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew things had changed between you. “Glad to know you don’t think we’re best friends anymore.”

Alexia let out an exhale. “You haven’t been acting like you’re my best friend for sometime. Don’t act all innocent.”

“Even though we haven’t been talking much, you’re still my person. But since I don’t seem to matter to you anymore, I’ll just…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for all of this.

Alexia could feel that familiar tug in her heart, the feeling of wanting to make everything in the world right for you.

But for once, she casted it aside. The anger she had at you overpowering everything. “I don’t think I matter to you anymore either, so I guess we’re even.”

There was a pause before you utter your next words. “You matter the most to me.” 

Alexia could only scoff. “Sure, you have done such a great job of showing that I matter to you—you couldn’t even spare five minutes of your precious 24 hours to talk to me!”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that you were guilt-tripping Alexia when you had your faults too.

None of you said anything else. For once, in the two decades that you’ve known each other, you both didn’t know what to say—had nothing else to say.

When all Alexia could come up with was “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re really hurting me this time,” you knew you had to put an end to all of this.

“I think we should just… take a break from all of this.”

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. You didn’t think you had it in you to say those words either. Even though the conversations between you two had diminished, saying that you wanted to stop talking to each other felt so… final. 

“What?”

“I’m tired, Ale.”

“You don’t think I’m tired too?” you could hear the urgency in her voice. “What does that even mean? ‘Take a break from all this’? You want a break from me, you mean? What ever happened to ‘you’re my person, Alexia?’” Alexia mimicked your voice. She was getting angrier by the second, you could tell. 

“You told me I’m hurting you! I’m tired of hurting you. I didn’t even realize it, Ale. I never wanted that. All we’ve been doing is fighting each other. I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t see a solution to this, I really don’t.”

Neither of you knew where it went wrong. One day you two were fine—you two loved each other more than anything in this world—the next thing you knew, you couldn’t hold up a conversation where it didn’t end with exasperated voices and tired sighs.

It was the distance, you assumed.

You and Alexia were attached at the hip. The only time you two went separate ways was when she had away games and international duties.

It was a two and a half hour flight between Barcelona and Manchester, but neither of you had made the trip to see one another. Alexia seemed even more far away as the days went by.

She had Olga to turn to now, you could feel her not needing you anymore. 

It was the distance that took Alexia away from you, you would convince yourself that. It wasn’t the nameless feeling in your chest that felt a lot like yearning, jealousy, and regret all at once.

You ended the call, not knowing whether you’d ever talk to Alexia again.

—

Losing someone that had always been a constant in your life was devastating.

It was miserable. You were the most miserable you had ever been.

Leila kept on asking you what was wrong, your friends in Barcelona updating her that Alexia was in the same state as you. Not that you cared.

You didn’t know how to live without Alexia in your life, but you’d manage. You’d learn. This wasn’t the end of the world.

You steered clear of your social media, not wanting to see any posts of her from your mutual friends or from the Barcelona account.

Leila and a couple of your friends eventually stopped asking you about what went wrong with Alexia, to which you were glad, but the emptiness you felt when no one brought Alexia up to you was starting to make you uneasy.

Alexia used to be in all your conversations, she was a huge part of your life. Now it felt like she was never a part of it.

A few months passed by, your birthday rolled around and you assumed—you wished—that Alexia would break this silence between you two. It was your birthday after all.

But you should’ve known how stubborn she was. 

When you stayed up until the clock strikes midnight and there was no text from Alexia, when she used to pride herself on being the first person to wish you a happy birthday, you knew you had lost her for good. 

You spent your birthday with pain in your chest like no other. You just wanted Alexia back. 

Your friends in Manchester knew something was up with you, Leila figured that it was mostly because of Alexia. None of them could understand why it was upsetting you so much.

That night, you sat on your balcony and looked through the folder of pictures on your phone that contained decades worth of memories of Alexia. With each scroll, you could feel more tears running down your cheeks.

There was a photo of you when you were ten, Alexia next to you laughing at how ugly your haircut was.

Another photo was of you at prom, Alexia as your plus one. Despite the countless promposals you received, you’d rather have Alexia as your date than the stinky boys at your school.

When Alexia got called up for the national team for the first time, you were there with Eli to watch her score her first international goal. The photo you had was of her carrying you on her back. It was after the game ended and Alexia had too much energy that she had to carry you around the field.

The next photo was of Alexia sleeping at the library, you were studying for your exams when you were in University and Alexia had the day off. To her, nothing was better than spending it with you, even if it meant that she had to sit there and watch you study boring stuff. Alexia always had faith that you were going to be the best doctor in Barcelona.

You had a photo of when you flew across continents to watch her win the World Cup, grinning next to Alexia as she kissed your cheek, trophy in hand.

A photo of when she tore her ACL and you were there at her bedside as she was preparing to go into surgery. Alexia didn’t let go of your hand until she was in front of the operating room.

A photo of you and Alexia in a locker room, both in Barcelona jerseys. It was the day before your exam, but it was also the Champions League final. You brought your textbook and Alba kept on laughing when you studied during half-time.

Most photos were of Alexia doing mundane things. They meant the most to you because of how carefree she looked in all of them.

Alexia making stupid faces at you as you grocery shopped together.

Alexia laughing next to you in the driver seat as she drove you to work.

Alexia cooking dinner for the two of you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration as she read the ingredients from her new cookbook.

Alexia sipping coffee in your favourite coffee shop in Barcelona. They served the best banana bread, you never wanted to share them with anyone, not even Alexia.

Alexia watching replays of her games on her iPad. She was laying down on your couch, your throw blanket draped over her feet.

Alexia smiling at you with that look.

As you reached the last picture you had on the album, a photo of Alexia taken by you the morning you left for Manchester—she was on the driver seat, a wistful smile on her face as she turned to look at you during a red light—you suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe.

You were in love with Alexia.

You were so desperately in love with Alexia, you had always been, ever since you let her become your first kiss.

You didn’t like any of Alexia’s relationships, because you were jealous. You thought none of her girlfriends could treat her well, no one lived up to your expectations. You felt like you were the only one who could understand her.

You hugged the blanket around yourself tighter, the gust of wind making your teeth chatter. You wanted Alexia there next to you, she would know that you were never a fan of the cold, always making sure that you were bundled up and warm.

You had a million thoughts running through your mind, mostly about how you missed all the signs of being in love with your best friend. Although deep down, you’ve always known that what you felt for Alexia was too intense to be strictly platonic. 

But when someone kissed you, having it meant the world to you, only for her to wish it never happened, you felt like it was justifiable that you decided to lock your feelings away.

Now that you’ve uncovered them, you didn’t know how to go on and pretend that you were fine with having Alexia out of your life.

—

Barcelona was playing against Manchester City at the Etihad. This wasn’t something you could get out of, you needed to be there to support Leila.

You had some friends traveling to Manchester to watch the match, you decided to sit with them instead of your usual spot at the Friends and Family section. You wanted—no, you needed someone to distract you from the person you hadn’t seen in almost two years.

You ignored your friends’ teasing at your Man City jersey instead of the Blaugrana colour (with Alexia’s name and number) you usually wore. They didn’t mention Alexia to you, having figured out the fallout, but a part of you wanted them to. You wanted them to tell you about Alexia and how she’d been doing.

Your resolve almost crumbled, Alexia’s name on the tip of your tongue. If it wasn’t for the players entering the field and the loud cheers from the audience, you would’ve asked them about Alexia.

Alexia, who was no longer blonde apparently. You saw her run to the field, her brown hair in a neat ponytail. Even from afar you could still see her smile. You hated that you still felt like jumping off a cliff at the sight.

You hated that your gaze was always drawn to her instead of your girlfriend.

Later when the game ended and Barcelona eventually won, you went to meet Leila at the barrier, whispering how great she played despite it all. 

You almost accepted her invite to a night out with some of the Barcelona girls. The temptation to see Alexia again was so strong, but you didn’t think you were ready yet. 

You saw her anyway, in your dreams that night. Maybe it was that deep yearning that caused you to text her as soon as you woke up.

good game yesterday. always proud of you

—

Your reconciliation didn’t happen all at once. 

You didn’t magically go back to being the same as you were before (there was some apprehension from both parties), but it was close enough. 

It was scarily easy to integrate Alexia back into your life even though you hadn’t talked to each other for so long.

First it was the likes on Instagram posts, or a reply to your Instagram story of gloomy Manchester sky, or a comment on Alexia’s post of her match day outfit.

Then the texts started. A simple text from Alexia telling you that she was through to the finals of the Euros. Or a text from you containing a picture of your cat, Mr. Oreo. They were evenly spaced out throughout your week, it wasn’t too often that it felt like you two were rushing back into being friends, but it wasn’t too scarce to leave you wanting more.

It was just perfect.

The striking difference now was that you were letting yourself fall for her. Every joke she made, every selfie she sent you, you took your time to admire her and let yourself fall even more.

Now that you were very much aware of your feelings, it didn’t feel right to continue what you had with Leila.

You loved her, but you must not have loved her enough because you were still able to think of another woman.

You ended it with Leila on a Tuesday. She didn't have a game until Sunday and you figured that was enough time for her to not be distracted. Surprisingly, Leila took it well, as if she knew this was coming all along.

And it felt like the universe was laughing at you, because after you broke up with Leila, you received a text from Alexia.

I’m getting married

You felt your heart drop. You had to put your phone back in your pocket because your hands were trembling badly.

You were suddenly desperate to do something, anything, before it was too late.

Even though a part of you felt like it was already too late.

—

Alexia arrived at the airport three hours early. She spent those three hours walking from one end to the other, flowers in hand. Her hands shaking and her mind racing with the thoughts of finally seeing you again.

She passed by the exact spot you said your goodbyes two years ago, both of you holding back your tears as you exchanged promises that things would be okay. The moment you walked away and went out of sight, Alexia finally let her tears fall, feeling that a part of her left alongside you.

In the middle of pacing around the airport, Olga called, and Alexia felt guilty because her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you. She instantly buried the feeling of discomfort the moment Olga talked about their wedding.

Alexia was getting married to Olga. Her mind shouldn’t picture you the moment weddings are mentioned. She closed her eyes and bid Olga goodbye, not remembering what her fiancé called her about. 

You were her best friend. Nothing more. Why was it that even after years apart, her heart still ached and yearned for you?

Hours later, when you texted her to let her know that you’ve landed, Alexia made her way to the gate. She stood there, flowers tightly in hand, tapping her foot anxiously. 

You two had been slowly rebuilding your friendship. You texted each other, but never a phone call, and Alexia was nervous to hear your voice again after going such a long time without it.

Alexia was the first to spot you. You were dragging your suitcase, looking from side to side, as if urgently searching for something. And the moment your eyes found hers, your entire body lit up—the whole airport could tell that you finally found what you were looking for.

Everything drowned out and to Alexia nothing else seemed to matter anymore, her only focus was on you. On how your eyes shone with happiness and how your lips slowly curved into the smile that Alexia had missed so much. When you were finally in front of her, something clicked within her, and every hurt, every anger, every sadness she had felt because of you disappeared and she was left with the feeling of nothing but love and fondness for the girl standing in front of her. 

You were here and no matter how hard Alexia tried, she couldn’t feel half of what she felt with you with anyone else.

“Alexia, hi.”

Alexia didn’t say anything back, instead she immediately embraced you, hugging you with everything she had. She leaned down and buried her face in the crook of your neck, closing her eyes and squeezing you even more—just savoring the moment of finally having you there again. 

Alexia thought back to the last time she hugged you, trying to remember every single detail—from the way your arms were wrapped around Alexia’s neck, to the way your breath tickled her ear—trying to decide whether anything had changed. 

And when you kissed the side of Alexia’s head, laughing into her ears because she wouldn’t let go, Alexia decided that no matter how many years had passed and no matter how many arguments you two got into, your hug still felt the same.

—

Alexia,

The moment that has always replayed in my head for years is the night of your 18th birthday. We went to the beach after dinner and crashed someone’s party, and we both got really drunk. It was fun but the thing that made that night so memorable was because it was the first time someone kissed me and that person was you. 

The moment it happened, it felt like everything fell into place, you know? I understood why even my five year old self hated seeing you cry and just wanted to protect you from everything so you’ll never cry again. I understood why out of all the people in the room, my eyes always search for yours. I love you, Alexia. It’s always been you.

I was the happiest I’ve ever been that night. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world for being able to be in your arms.  

But when you woke up the next day saying that you wished that night never happened, it felt like the missing puzzle piece in my heart that you completed the night before disappeared again. 

Ever since then, I tried so hard to fill this gaping hole in my heart. I made it my life’s mission to go out there and meet the most perfect girl in the world just to try and replicate what I felt for you. But every time I’m with someone, every time I’m face to face with some perfect girl, your face appears and I’m reminded that they’re not you.

I love you, Alexia. I love you more with all the ups and downs we’ve had. I love every part of you and I love you with every beat of my heart.

I think I’ve always known that I was in love with you. I was just never brave enough to label it as that. So I didn’t. It wasn’t until recently that I realized: I couldn’t just sit here and watch you marry someone else.

You could call it selfish, but I wasn’t going to risk the slightest possibility of you feeling the same way that I do.

I know Olga loves you, but I also know that she’ll never love you as much as I do. 

To quote your favourite poet:

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,    

so close that your eyes close with my dreams”

If you think that this is all wrong, please just ignore it, and I promise I’ll never talk about this again. But if you somehow feel the same, meet me at our usual spot at the beach tonight, 10 p.m.

Yours always, 

y/n

—

It wasn’t like you didn’t know this would happen. This was why you never wanted to risk your friendship because of some silly feelings. You knew Alexia wouldn’t feel the same, your confession would go to waste, and you would be sitting on the beach, alone at night, waiting for someone who was never going to show up.

You thought of calling Alexia, to ask her what she thought of your letter. But you decided against it, this was humiliating enough.

Maybe Alexia was embarrassed? Maybe she felt bad for you. Maybe she didn’t know how to talk to you now, knowing that you had all these feelings for her. Or maybe Alexia just didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

You let out a big sigh and buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All those years of friendship… that was all it was: friendship. You should’ve known.

You checked your phone again. Nothing. No texts or calls.

You let out a laugh. Alexia wasn’t stuck in traffic nor was she late, she was simply not coming.

Feeling your eyes start to well up with tears, you took a deep breath before standing up. You didn’t plan on going back to your parents’ house just yet, stupidly enough a part of you still had hope that Alexia was going to show up. You needed to walk around and distract yourself, sitting in the same spot that contained so many memories of her wasn’t helping.

You took another glance at your phone, and when there was still nothing, you wished your heart wasn’t so weak when it came to Alexia.

—

Alexia never believed in fate or anything.

To be fair, she was five years old and watching movies where the princess always ended up with the prince and lived happily ever after seemed too good to be true.

That was until she met you.

You, who had your little legs outstretched on the grass as you snack on your cookies. You, who didn’t hesitate to wipe away Alexia’s tears when she tripped on your legs. You, who kept on apologizing even though it wasn’t your fault that Alexia wasn’t looking at where she was going, but you were trying to make her feel better.

You had been a constant in her life ever since then, with your wise wisdoms and never-ending ability to make Alexia laugh.

Alexia then understood that fate and destiny really did exist, because it was fate that brought Alexia to the playground at that exact moment—at that exact second—so she could meet you.

When Alexia lost you, she didn’t want to believe in fate anymore, because why was the universe so cruel that it left her on the floor of her apartment, crying and begging for you to come back.

You disappeared from Alexia’s life and Alexia saw firsthand how the world became gloomier, how her days seemed to drag on longer without your presence. 

Just when Alexia completely lost all hope, the universe had other plans, and it was destiny that she left her phone in her hotel room that morning, because if she didn’t, her phone would be in her pocket as she was thrown to the swimming pool because Vicky and Esmee decided that playing a prank on their captain was a brilliant idea. Her phone would be ruined and she wouldn’t be greeted with a text message from you.

A simple text telling Alexia that you were proud of her, but it left her breathless because she hadn’t talked to you in a year. You two had no contact for a year, yet you were still proud of her. Like always.

Fate, destiny, the universe, and all of that had brought you to her, took you away, then brought you back.

It was also fate that made Alexia reach down into her purse and open the envelope you’d given her before parting ways earlier—something tugging in her heart, screaming at her to read the letter you wrote to her, even though she told herself that she would do it after you’ve left the city.

And sometimes, the universe had a sense of humour, because at that moment, as Alexia finished reading the last sentence of your handwriting, her fiancé appeared in the doorway of their shared bedroom.

“Alexia?”

“I’m sorry.”

—

The only thought Alexia had as she drove over the speed limit was to hope that you were still there, waiting for her. Just like what you had been doing all of these years.

All of those wasted years where you two could be together if it weren’t for the doubts that forbade you from truly loving each other the way you were meant to.

“You’ve always loved her more than anything, Alexia. Even when she’s a thousand miles away, even when you two weren’t on speaking terms… She’s still the one you love the most. I could never compete with her.”

From this whole thing, Alexia was just sorry that she had to drag someone else into her mess. She would never forgive herself for saying “yes” to someone, knowing that her heart wasn’t fully in it.

“Olga, I never meant to make you feel like you were at constant competition with her. I really do love you.”

“But not as much as you love her.”

“I never planned on staying in love with her forever, I really did try to love someone else—with you. And I did. All these years together, I meant everything I said and everything I did.”

“I’ve always known that she would always come first to you, yet I still convinced myself that that would change one day. I know it made me a shitty person, but I was happy when you fought with her, because I thought that was finally it, you know? Finally you’d move on from her. But not even the fall out made you love her any less.”

Alexia would take whatever life will throw at her for hurting someone so deeply like she did to Olga.

But the only thing she could do right now was to find you and hoped that you were the happy ending fate had in store for her. The happy ending she’d dreamt of all this time.

—

When Alexia couldn’t find you at the beach, she figured she was too late. She tried calling and texting, but you weren’t replying to any of it.

So she went to your parents’ place, taking a slight detour to your favourite florist, picking up the bouquet they had ready, not wanting to waste another second away from you. Alexia figured you must’ve left thinking that she was rejecting you. Even if Alexia wasn’t in love with you anymore, she wouldn't have just let you sit there all alone, fearing the worst. She needed you to know that.

Your childhood home was dark and quiet. All the lights were off and Alexia remembered that your parents were in Mollet del Vallés, visiting your grandparents.

You weren’t here but Alexia wasn’t going anywhere else. She would just be there and wait for you—she had waited decades for you, a few hours would mean nothing. She sat down on the pavement, not caring how dirty her jeans were going to be, and pulled out her phone from her pocket. She called the only person she could think of.

It took a few more tries for Mapi to pick up, and once the call got connected, Alexia spoke into the phone, “I have a problem.” 

Mapi’s voice was groggy. “It’s midnight, you dumbass. Can you call me later?”

“No, this is urgent.”

Alexia can feel Mapi roll her eyes on the other end of the line, “When Ingrid kills me for being too noisy and waking her up, I’m blaming it on you.”

“Well, in that case, I hope she does wake up then.”

“Tonta.”

“María,” Alexia let out a tired exhale. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

Mapi groaned in reply. “Estúpida. I was asleep, how should I know?”

Alexia pressed her hand over her eyes and groaned, “I think I screwed up.”

Just when Alexia was about to elaborate further, even though she knew Mapi was half asleep, someone called out her name. Someone whose voice sounded exactly like you.

“Ale?” 

Alexia quickly opened her eyes. It really was you.

“Y/n.”

And there you were, standing in front of Alexia, head cocked to the side as if trying to figure out why Alexia was sitting there in front of your house at midnight.

Alexia quickly put her phone back to her ear, “Uhm, I’ll call you back—Tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, María.” As soon as she ended the call, she quickly stood up.

Your arms were crossed over your chest, you were making yourself smaller, you looked so unsure of yourself that Alexia wanted nothing but to hug you and tell you that she loved you more than she’d ever loved anyone.

But all you had was apprehension written all over your face. Alexia understood. You must’ve thought that by her not showing up, Alexia didn’t feel the way you did. “What are you doing here?”

Alexia gulped. Now that you were in front of her, Alexia didn’t know what to say. “Did we really kiss on my 18th birthday?” Alexia blurted out.

“What?” You were confused and still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole thing. You couldn’t process what she said.

“I don’t remember it,” Alexia continued. “I swear. I swear on Messi.”

“What?” Your tone was full of surprise. “You don’t remember?” 

“No,” Alexia sighed, looking at you wistfully. “I would never stop talking about it if I did.”

You went silent for a few seconds, your face full of confusion. Alexia let you take it all in. “You don’t remember,” you stated in a questioning tone. “But you said you wished it never happened.”

“I couldn’t have said that, because I don’t remember—”

“Oh my god, you don’t remember?” It was like you finally realized what that meant. “Oh my god,” you groaned, placing your hands over your face. “I spent years thinking—I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with you because you rejected me—”

“I didn’t!” Alexia interjected. “I would never– I was so hopelessly in love with you.”

You looked at her and your face turned paler if that was even possible. Your mouth agape, as if you wanted to say something but you couldn’t. How could you? When your best friend was telling you that she—

“Wait,” you realized something. “Did you say ‘was’? As in past tense?” You felt the hope that grew plummet to the bottom of the stomach. You knew it was too good to be true. “Is that why you didn’t meet me earlier?”

“No… No, Y/n, I read your letter too late. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I would’ve dropped everything in a heartbeat to get to you.”

“Oh.” 

Suddenly you were laughing. Your laughter echoing throughout the empty neighbourhood. Alexia stared at you, unsure of what this meant but she couldn’t help the growing happiness in her heart with every laugh that escaped your lips. “I should’ve just texted you, right? I wanted to be romantic with the letter.”

Alexia shot you a comforting smile. At least fate brought you both here, to this moment.

After your laughter died down, you took a hesitant step forward. “But… do you really feel… the way that I do?”

Alexia sighed, being the one to close the gap between you and took your hands in hers. “If my years and years of pining weren't obvious, I feel the same. I’m in love with you. I still am. I never stopped, if we’re being honest. I broke things off with Olga, it wasn’t right to stay with her if my heart belonged to someone else. She deserves way better than some girl who was too much of a coward to confess that she’s in love with her best friend and ended up stringing her along for years, knowing that she would never love her the same.”

“So you…” you were at loss for words.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Alexia continued. “This whole thing is a mess. I need to cancel my wedding preparations, I have to talk to a lot of people, but the only thing I know right now is that… I can’t let you go again. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it. I’ve been sure of it ever since we were kids. I won’t love someone as much and as deeply as I love you. So… yeah.”

You didn’t reply to Alexia’s statement, instead you placed one hand on the back of Alexia’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Once your lips met, Alexia’s mind went to two things: how she never wanted to kiss anyone else in her life and how exactly did she forget your soft lips when they tasted like heaven? 

Alexia’s hands wandered to rest on your neck, caressing the smooth skin that felt electric under her touch. Alexia’s mind was full with thoughts of you. Your lips on hers. Your hands around her waist. Your perfume engulfing her. Your nose brushing against hers. Your laugh vibrating against her lips.

Your lips curved upwards into a grin and Alexia could taste the happiness on your lips. She leaned forward once more for a peck on your smile and when you scrunch your nose in response, Alexia pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“That was… everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” Alexia hoped that you couldn’t hear how erratic her heart was beating. 

“We can take things slow,” you whispered against her lips.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to take it slow,” Alexia whispered back. “But… I agree. We don’t have to rush this. We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.”

Suddenly your eyes drifted to the flowers on the pavement, raising your eyes at that. “Is that supposed to be for me?”

Alexia’s eyes widened when she realized the discarded flowers, quickly taking them and shoving them to you. “Uhm. Yes. These… these are for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you replied, taking the flowers from her but your gaze never leaving her face. “Thank you.”

She pouted when she realized you hadn’t even glanced at it. “You didn’t even look at it!”

You grinned at her, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around her waist. Your face back in its favourite spot against her neck. “I bet they’re beautiful, just like you.”

“Okay, flirt.” 

Alexia quickly stepped back when she noticed that the flowers were squeezed in between you two. “You’re ruining my flowers.”

“I’m not,” you scoffed. You looked down and scrunched your nose at the sight. At least they still had the beautiful pink colour intact, your favourite. “Okay, kind of. But that was your fault.”

Alexia took your hand that wasn’t holding the flower and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “How was it my fault?” 

“I couldn’t resist hugging you.”

Alexia laughed and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. Swaying you side to side and sighing in content. Everything felt good. It felt like everything had fallen into place.

“Now you’re ruining the flowers even more!” your voice muffled with the way your face was squeezed into Alexia’s neck.

“I’ll get you new ones, mi amor. In fact, I’ll get you the whole shop.”

You laughed into her neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “I’m holding you on to that.”

Alexia hummed. “I love you, cariño. I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you replied. 

“Say it back,” Alexia prodded, placing her cheek on the top of your head.

“Huh?”

“I… love… you.” Alexia said slowly.

Alexia felt your giggles tickle her neck.

“Princessa, say it back.”

“You already know the answer anyway.”

“Mi vida.”

“Alexia. I love you too.”

Alexia did know the answer—she had heard you say it a million times over and over. Despite that, Alexia still wanted to hear it a million times more.

—

Alexia had been to Manchester before but it was still hard to keep up with how busy the airport was. She couldn’t spot you—not at first. All she could see was people rushing to get somewhere despite it being the early hours of the morning. 

Alexia dragged her luggage to a secluded corner and pulled out her phone to give you a call. She put her phone to her ear and kept on looking around while waiting for you to pick up.

It was on the second ring when Alexia spotted you. You were sandwiched between people and you looked so small that Alexia would’ve missed you if she didn’t see the giant flower bouquet you were holding. 

Once you answered the call, Alexia laughed into the speaker, feeling her heart grow ten times bigger with the amount of love she felt for you. Alexia still couldn’t believe she was finally here, just a few steps away from the person she had missed so much.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” Alexia sighed in content. How did she spend so long convincing herself that she would be fine settling for someone other than you? “That bouquet is way bigger than you.”

As soon as Alexia said that, she saw you move your head in all directions trying to locate her. “You’re here. Where are you?”

“I am here.” Alexia stated, enjoying how clueless you looked. 

“Alexia.” 

“You always complain about how tall I am, how can you not see me?” Alexia kept her eyes on you—from your furrowed eyebrows to the small pout on your lips, one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other holding the flowers. She laughed even more when you kept on whining and your pout kept getting bigger as each second passed.

“You are annoying,” you groaned. “Can you just tell me where you are? I’m hungry.”

“Not because you miss me?” Alexia teased. “You only want me because I spoil you with lots of food.”

“Yes, that’s true!” you laughed. “So hurry up and tell me where you are so we can get food, Alexia Putellas Segura.”

“Ooh she’s using my full name now.” 

“It’s because I’m getting impatient!”

Alexia laughed, finally dragging her luggage and walking towards your direction.

Once she was behind you, Alexia ended the call and tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. Alexia chuckled to herself at how ridiculous she was for finding everything you did adorable.

You immediately turned around and once recognition settled in, you squealed and jumped to hug her. “Alexia! You’re blonde again!”

“Mi amor! I missed you.” 

When you broke apart, Alexia’s eyes started to well with tears. You were finally in front of her, smiling at her with your big smile and sparkly eyes. Two months without having you near felt so long.

“Baby,” you cooed. “Why are you crying?” 

“Just emotional,” Alexia squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. “I missed your stupid face.”

“No one will be able to guess that you're the crybaby in this relationship.”

Alexia scowled at you. She would never admit that she cried more than you. Besides, no one would be able to verify this fact because she never cried in front of anyone, except you. “I am not.”

“Sure. Can we get that breakfast now?”

Looking at you behind your big flower bouquet, Alexia felt breathless, only because she still couldn’t believe that you were hers. At the same time though, she felt like she was able to properly breathe again, because you were finally back in her arms.

—

“Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

You sat on the passenger seat, absentmindedly playing with Alexia’s hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

Alexia gave you a side glance. “Are you questioning my driving abilities? When it was me who drove you around most of your life.”

“Maybe,” you kissed the back of Alexia’s hand. “You’ve never driven outside of Spain before. I’m kind of scared right now. For my life and for my brand new car.”

Alexia laughed, “Driving is the same everywhere, amor.”

“Fine,” you leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to Alexia’s cheek. “I trust you.”

Alexia scrunched her nose in response. “Stop kissing me and tell me where I should go next instead.”

“Just keep on going straight,” you responded. “Then turn left.”

“Now?”

“Are you seeing any left turns right now?”

“You just told me to turn left,” Alexia whined. “You’re such a bad navigator.”

“You should’ve let me drive.”

“You must be tired from work,” Alexia let go of her hand that was in your grip to caress your face. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

You looked at Alexia, taking the her hand in yours again. “So thoughtful, always a gentlewoman. Thank you, Ale.”

“I am thoughtful huh.”

You poked your tongue out at her in response. “I should stop before your ego gets too big.”

Alexia grinned at you. “I think my ego has been big ever since I knew I was your first kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re my first kiss, Alexia Putellas Segura. Just like I am yours.”

“The one I don’t have a single memory of,” Alexia noted. “How could you let me forget what would be the most meaningful experience of my life?”

“It’s not my fault you’re a lightweight,” you pinched Alexia’s cheeks to which the blonde laughed in response. “But hey, at least I tried to remind you of that night, didn’t I? About a thousand times these past few days if I remember correctly.”

Alexia hummed in thought, puckering her lips. “I think I need the reminder once again.” 

You giggled and kissed the palm of Alexia’s hand instead. “Later at home, okay? I can’t have you crashing my car.”

“I’d like that.” Alexia took a quick glance at you and smiled—one that reached her eyes, one that showed you just how happy she was. 

But you were suddenly thinking of home and how you used it to describe your Manchester apartment, even though you never thought of it that way. That was, until Alexia came to visit, leaving her things scattered around like she always did in your old place in Barcelona.

You yearned for days like this, with Alexia driving you back home, eating takeout on the couch as you watched a football match you couldn’t care less about. You let Alexia talk your ear off, giving her commentary on the game, you nodding along like you were totally invested in it too.

Home. 

Manchester had never felt like home. It was an apartment with all of your things, where you slept and showered and ate, but you never considered it to be your home.

Alexia visited one day and changed the meaning of the place entirely.

You lived here for years without Alexia, but you couldn’t imagine it without her anymore. 

You looked at your best friend as she sang along to a Spanish song, she was so off-key. A grin instantly made its way to your lips.

Home was wherever Alexia was. 

—

It was a no-brainer, really.

There was no reason to stay in Manchester when your heart lived in Barcelona.

It had been on your mind since you had to leave Alexia again as you boarded the plane back to Manchester a few months ago. It was the only thing you could think of as you waved goodbye to Alexia as she went back to Barcelona, her black cap and sunglasses covering her face, but you could tell there were tears running down her cheeks.

You knew she was scared that history would repeat itself and you two would argue again. But you also knew that it was different this time. There were no uncertain feelings in your chest, no other girl next to Alexia making you feel replaced. You were certain of your love for Alexia.

But it was time to come home. You knew that the moment Alexia kissed you for the second time.

You hadn’t told Alexia, but you were planning on coming back in a couple of months. You wanted it to be a surprise.

But the night before Alexia left, as you savoured the feeling of her pressed up against you, you came to the conclusion that you need to come back to Barcelona sooner than planned.

Having Alexia next to you felt so good. You missed it a lot. You knew you couldn’t stand even another month being away from her, so you changed your entire timeline and decided to move it up so you were coming back in two weeks.

You had a lot on your to-do list. It was a hassle to move away from the place you’ve lived in for years. It was even harder when you wanted to do it within a few weeks.

Alexia thought it was starting again—the space between you.

You didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“Ale, you're just being a distraction right now.”

Which was true—you had less time to reply to texts and calls in between trying to get rid of your furniture and trying to cut your lease short—but Alexia didn't know that so it wasn’t the right word to use.

Out of context, it sounded harsh, and you figured you could’ve said it better. 

Alexia ended the call abruptly and ignored all your texts for the rest of the day. 

—

Turns out, Alexia decided to ignore you for a whole week. It was understandable, you royally screwed up, but the only thing that kept you from flying to Barcelona as soon as you figured out she was ignoring you was the thought that you were coming back soon. For good.

You left Manchester and years worth of memories behind on a Monday. Your parents welcomed you back with open arms and you spent the night eating your mother’s home cooked meal.

The next day, you knew Alexia had training until noon. So you went to a florist, bought the biggest bouquet of Alexia’s favourite flowers, and you met up with a Barcelona staff member with clear instructions that he was to give it to Alexia. And to make sure that she actually read the note attached to it.

Alexia, my love

Meet me at our spot at 4pm

You’re going to be done by that time, so you better show up

Yours,

y/n

—

You sat at your usual spot by the beach, the same spot where you got your heart broken a few months ago when Alexia didn’t show up. This time, instead of waiting for Alexia with dread and a heavy heart, all you felt was excitement at getting to see her again. 

This time, you knew that Alexia loved you too and you didn’t have to worry about her not showing up.

Alexia loved you too and you weren't going to let her go. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head, the one that propelled you to leave Manchester behind and come back to Barcelona. As much as you loved it over there, you knew it would never beat the feeling of having Alexia next to you. 

You couldn’t wait to be with Alexia. Really be with her, not through a phone screen where her sleeping face would disappear once her phone ran out of battery.

“Amor?”

You craned your head as soon as you heard that voice. Alexia was still as beautiful as ever, despite only wearing some sweatpants and a hoodie that she stole from you when you were still in high school. 

“Hi.” Alexia put her hand up in a little wave. You smiled because Alexia looked so nervous, it was adorable. 

You stood up and walked towards her slowly, your face still amused at the way she was biting her lips—a nervous habit of hers. When you were inches apart you spoke, “Hi back. Why do you look so nervous?”

Alexia’s eyes drifted anywhere but you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You totally are,” you said, trying to catch her eyes. “Can I hug you?”

Alexia finally returned your stare and once your eyes met, Alexia’s entire posture softened and she leaned forward to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you,” Alexia exhaled deeply. “It’s only been a few weeks but I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around her neck, whispering that you missed her too. You breathed in her familiar scent and sighed. You felt at home.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Alexia said once you broke apart.

You shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I am very surprised.” Alexia took your hands in hers. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Can I kiss you now? Or are you still too nervous to do that?” you asked, your tone teasing. “ I can’t have you passing out on me.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “I’m not nervous.”

“So can I kiss you or not?” you asked once more, a grin on her face.

“Of course you can.”

And that was all you needed before you leaned forward and captured her lips with yours.

You kissed your girlfriend gently, you kissed her slowly while trying to convey just how much you missed her—how lonely your nights were without her to cuddle you to sleep and how cold your mornings were without her warm smile.

And when Alexia traced your bottom lip with her tongue, you couldn’t comprehend how fast your heart was beating. After countless kisses, you still felt the same way you did when Alexia first kissed you at eighteen—all fluttery as a thousand butterflies rummaged around your stomach.

Alexia’s lips on yours felt tingly, and Alexia’s hands that were caressing your waist felt like they had belonged there all along.

When you broke apart, Alexia’s hands stayed where they were, her forehead resting against yours while you both tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” Alexia whispered. “I know I say that a lot, but I mean it every time.”

You hummed, your lips curling up into a smile. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, cariño, for ignoring you. I was just… sad, I guess.”

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have called you a distraction.”

“It’s just–” Alexia sighed, she was really beating herself up over this. “You’re supposed to tell me if you’re unhappy. I’m your girlfriend.”

You immediately shake your head. “I’m not unhappy—I could never be unhappy with you.”

“Then?”

You took a deep breath before continuing, “You were a distraction, but only because—Ale?”

Alexia blinked back, as if she didn’t quite understand what you said. She took a step away from your touch and turned her back towards you.

You were confused for a moment before you remembered how much of an overthinker she was.

“Ale. Baby,” you gently placed your hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Your heart broke at the sight of Alexia’s furrowed brows and the slight tremble in her bottom lips.

“Are you—Did you come back to break up with me?”

“Of course not,” you laughed. “Alexia—”

“Don’t—” Alexia tried to turn back around and leave, but you quickly grabbed her arms to prevent her from leaving.

“Alexia,” your hand travelled down to her hands, intertwining them with yours. “Look at me.”

You could see tears starting to well in her and you sighed at how much she resembled a kicked puppy. “Baby,” you cooed. “It’s nothing bad, c’mon, please don’t cry.”

“It’s not?” Alexia whispered out.

“No,” you flashed her a comforting smile. “I would never break up with you, you should know that by now.”

“Oh,” Alexia looked down, sniffling. “Then why? I’m a distraction to you?”

You lifted Alexia’s chin up with your finger. “Moving across countries isn’t an easy thing to do, you know. I have to talk to the hospital about my contract, I have to talk to my agent about my lease, I have to sell all my furniture, I have to meet with my friends to say goodbye—”

“What—”

“That’s why you were kind of distracting me, because I need to get a lot of things done if I want to come home to my girlfriend as soon as possible.”

When realization dawned on Alexia, her eyes widened and you laughed at how comical she looked. Alexia placed her hand on your mouth, muffling your laughs. “Stop laughing at me. You’re coming back?”

You took Alexia’s hand away from your mouth and grinned at her. Alexia’s eyebrows were raised, her face expectant as she waited for an answer.

You smiled fondly at her expressions before you answered her question with a kiss.

One second into the kiss, a giggle escaped your mouth, causing Alexia to break you apart, narrowing her eyes at your interruption. “Sorry, you were just too adorable.”

“Glad to know you think me crying is adorable.”

You placed a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t like seeing you cry but I wasn’t even breaking up with you, you big baby.”

“You’re so mean,” Alexia pouted. “But you’re really coming back? For good?”

“I am. I can’t be apart from you anymore. I love you and I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.”

“Cheesy.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Shut up. I’m trying to be cute.”

“So… will you be asking me to move in with you then?”

“Well…” you gave a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you would be the one to ask me that, since I don’t exactly have a place here anymore. Unless you want to move in with my parents, that’s okay too.”

Alexia laughed and pecked your lips. You felt warm all over. “Let’s go look for a new place. My place is too small for all our kids anyway.”

“Kids?” you looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “Alexia. Did you skip the entire wedding?”

Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m talking about Nala. And Mr. Oreo, your stinky cat. Add Vicky, Jana, Esmee to the list too.”

You slapped Alexia’s arm in response. “You scared me there for a second. We need to get married first, you know. No skipping a chapter.”

Alexia laughed, kissing the top of your head. You looked at her and the sight of your girlfriend with a big smile and eyes that displayed so much happiness gave you the sudden urge to kiss her again. So you did.

With the feeling of Alexia smiling against your lips, you knew that no matter where life takes you, you’d always come home to her.

—

Y/n,

I still remember the moment you left to go to Manchester. I remember watching you leave and I remember feeling so helpless because I knew that things would change. I saw you walk away and I have never wanted to scream your name so badly—just so you would look at me one last time. But I didn’t. 

I didn’t, because you were off to do amazing things and I couldn’t keep you here as much as I wanted to. And because a part of me felt relieved that we’d be spending less time together because it would give me the time I needed to move on from you.

It worked for a while. My heart didn’t break into pieces every time I saw you and Leila on social media, and my heart didn’t feel like it’s being squeezed every time you talked about her.

My daydreams about you stopped, I didn’t hear your laugh in the back of my head at random times of the day anymore. I thought that was it. I was moving on, and I started to swallow the bitter truth that we weren’t meant to be together.

But then one night you called me. It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t stop laughing because of a joke you just thought of. You asked if I was asleep, and I knew you’d tell me to go back to sleep if I said yes, so I lied. Only because I missed your voice and because hearing your laugh again after so long made my heart feel whole again when I didn’t even realize it had a missing piece.

I realized that, no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I would never love anyone as much as I love you.

I started to spend each night cursing at the stars, being angry and asking why the universe gave you to me, but at the same time, never letting me completely have you. 

I settled for someone else because I thought that you’d never look at me the way I looked at you. I loved someone else and their name tasted just fine on my lips but I kept on wishing that it was your name that I was whispering into the dark nights instead. And I had to come to terms that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with you in the way that I’d hoped, so I said ‘yes’ to someone else.

But things happened, and I found out that you had been looking at me the same way all along—hidden glances, longing gazes, the desperate yearning to know how it feels like to love each other in ways no one but us can understand.

You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had and now, instead of cursing at the stars, I thank them each night because the universe gave you to me and now I have the chance to be able to love and admire every part of you.

Now your name is the only one I’d whisper into the nights—the nights where it’s just us two and your face that’s illuminated by the moonlight is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Now you’re the person I said ‘yes’ to because you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I never would have thought that we’d be here, and that in a few hours I’d get to call you my wife. 

I love you, mi amor. I have loved you since I was five and didn’t know anything about the world. I have loved you when we were apart, when nothing else was left to say between us, when the mornings without your texts turned my world darker.

And I have loved you when we’re together, when I look to the side and you’re always there next to me, when your hands feel like they’re my long-lost limb—your hands holding mine, your hands around my waist, your hands tangled through my hair, your hands around my neck, your hands holding me at night when it’s quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in sync with mine.

I have loved you for so long that it’s now a part of me and I know that I would never go a day without loving you.

And despite knowing you for most of my life, I still get nervous around you. So I’m writing this letter in case I couldn’t blurt out my vows because of how you’d be looking at me—as if I’m the only star in your sky. I hope that by reading this, you know just how much I love you and how I don’t ever plan to stop.

You make me the happiest. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re the happiest too.

I’ll see you in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle :)

Yours forever and ever and ever, 

Alexia

----

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my longest fic yet, please let me know your thoughts!<3

---

IM SORRY WHAT- THE END IS SO FUNNY PLZ

Flustered | Wanda Maximoff x Romanoff!Reader

a/n: y’all have heard of having a crush on your best friend’s mum but what about having a crush on your mum’s best friend? wanda and vision are divorced in this bc i can’t deal w cheating 🤧

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by anon: “soft mommy!wanda smut with her being your mothers (nats) best friend??? 👀”

warnings: alcohol. smut - mommy kink, strap-on, praise, fingering/oral (r receiving), light overstimulation, kinda dubcon bc wanda used her powers

word count: 3.5k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

You had always been flustered around Wanda.

She was stunningly beautiful and so ethereal that how could anyone not stare at her out of awe?

She’d even caught you lingering over her once or twice though she just simply smiled in response, believing that you’d been staring out of adoration or something along the like; whilst you were forced to tear your eyes away in mortification. Practically bolting out of the room you were both in lest she see your cheeks flushed with both arousal and embarrassment.

Besides, it was an unrequited crush. There wasn’t any way that she liked you like that nor would she assume that you liked her in that manner either.

After all, she was your mother’s best friend.

You were currently sat in your room reading a book, trying to distract yourself from the fact that your mother had invited Wanda over for dinner.

You could barely keep your emotions in check around the redhead; it was a wonder she hadn’t grown suspicious of your wariness to be around her.

You were disturbed by a faint knock at your door and with a soft ‘come in’, your Mum entered your room with a smile.

“Hey, honey. Dinner’s ready. Do you mind making some of your brownies later for dessert?”

“Sure thing, Mum. I’ll be right down.” You said, returning her smile.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Natasha closed the door, once again, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Okay, breathe. It’s fine. It’s just a small crush. You’ll get over it. Breathe.

You murmured to yourself as if saying the words aloud would make them a reality.

Clearing your throat, you left your bedroom and descended down the stairs to greet Wanda.

She looked up from the foot of the stairs and beamed at you, “Hi, honey. How are you?”

Even just the gentle tone of her voice and the endearment term had you feeling warm. Exchanging pleasantries as you walked, you then all sat down at the dinner table.

You barely spoke as you ate your meal, instead, you were daydreaming about the redhead sitting opposite you. It was risky, you knew. After all, she did have the ability to read minds but you seemed to forget about that as she fell into easy conversation with Natasha.

As you pushed your broccoli around your plate with your fork, you suddenly felt a jolt on your skin that made you drop the cutlery. The clattering of the metal against the plate breaking your Mum’s and Wanda’s current conversation about how Sam and Bucky were training with Steve’s old shield.

“Honey, are you alright?” Natasha looked over at you, concerned at the abrupt action.

“Yeah, um, sorry. It just slipped out my hand.” You said, lying easily through your teeth.

That seemed to be enough for your mother as she continued her previously interrupted conversation with Wanda.

You mentally shook your head, not wanting to embarrass yourself further and took a sip from your glass of water when you felt a warm tingle between your thighs.

Quickly swallowing the liquid in your mouth - to stop yourself from choking on it - you furrowed your brows at the feeling.

It was a familiar feeling but also kind of different. Often something that you felt when you were horny and playing with yourself. But you certainly weren’t doing that right now so what on Earth was going on with you?

The sensation travelled further up your thighs, directly between your legs where your growing sensitive nub was. You felt pressure being applied to your clit forcing you to fight back a moan from slipping past your lips.

You reached for your glass and took another swig of the drink in an attempt to maintain some sense of control and occupy your mind with something other than the sensation.

But when something, that could only be described as phantom-like, brushed up against your folds, teasing your entrance, you pushed your chair back and stood up abruptly.

“I’m gonna get started on the brownies.” You stated when Wanda and Natasha both looked at you with their brows raised.

“Okay, sweetie.” Your Mum replied as you gathered the plates and took them to the kitchen.

Placing them in the sink, you ran water over them as you watched the remnants wash away down the drain. Switching off the running tap, you then braced yourself on the countertop.

“What the fuck was that?” You whispered to yourself, steadying your breathing.

If only you had looked up to face Wanda. You would have seen her eyes grow a faint hue; small red tendrils swirling around her fingers.

Mixing the ingredients in the plastic bowl, you placed it on the table and dipped a spoon in the brownie mixture to taste it.

Licking your lips, you decided it needed some more sugar so you walked to the cupboard and reached up to grab the sweetener.

Your hand roamed aimlessly in the open door as you stood on your tiptoes to try to pick up the ingredient.

You stilled when you felt a pair of hands enclose on your hips.

“Here. Let me get that for you, honey.”

A shiver ran deliciously down your spine as the person behind you spoke. There was no need to turn around. You knew who the voice belonged to.

Wanda gently moved you but not before you grazed up against her and felt something hard against the small of your back.

Oh god, she was packing.

Your legs threatened to shake beneath you as you grabbed onto the marble island in an attempt to steady yourself.

Wanda turned around to face you, handing the sugar to you with a smile on her face, appearing to have been unaware of what you’d just realised.

“T-Thanks.” You took the sugar from her hand and generously measured it out before stirring it into your brownie mixture.

You were painfully aware that Wanda was still standing there, watching you as her lips tugged into a smirk.

Wanda walked up beside you, leaning against the counter before dipping two of her fingers into the mix.

Your mouth went dry as she placed them in her mouth and licked them clean. The action making you wet as you imagined her doing that under very different circumstances.

“Wanda, I’ve found the wine. You coming?”

Both of your heads turned to the door that led to the living room.

You were hot all over, a combination of arousal and embarrassment - feeling as though you’d been caught by your mother whilst doing something sinful when the act itself was not.

“Coming.” Wanda replied. She then glanced back over at you.

“I can’t wait to have a taste.” She said sultrily, licking her lips.

Your mouth fell open as you were unable to hide your shocked expression, “w-what?”

“Of the brownies, baby. Why? What did you think I meant?”

Wanda said sweetly, her brow raised in amusement and she continued to smirk at you, remaining unabashed at how flustered you were right now.

“Oh, I-um, I didn’t-”

You silently cursed yourself as you continued to fumble over your words, not able to form even one coherent sentence under her watchful gaze.

“I’m just pulling your leg, baby. I’m gonna go join your mother now.”

She finished on a cheery tone and when you saw her figure disappear from the door frame, you slumped against the kitchen drawers.

She’d called you ‘baby’ twice and yet, didn’t seem to realise how flushed the pet name made you.

Shaking your head, you willed yourself to get a grip on your feelings and to continue making the chocolate dessert.

Stop reading into things.

She doesn’t like you like that.

She’s just being kind.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Over the next few weeks, you felt yourself slowly being driven insane with how much you were lusting after Wanda.

She seemed to be over at your house much more often than before and each time, she unwittingly left you aroused and flushed. Though she appeared to have no indication of the effect she had on you.

Well, that was until you’d turned up drunk at her house late one night.

You’d been out partying with some of your friends from university and when you realised you’d had too much to drink, you had decided to head to Wanda’s house - she only lived a 10 minute walk away from where the party took place - and crash there for the night.

You rapped your knuckles on the wooden frame and greeted Wanda with a bright beam, your words slightly slurring.

“Hey, Wanda. Mind if I stay here tonight? I don’t wanna drive and Mum’s outta town.”

“Sure thing.” Wanda hurried you inside as she returned your smile.

She led you into the kitchen where she began fixing you a plate of things to eat.

“It’s some leftovers from what I made the twins last night.”

“Oh god, are they here? I’m so sorry.” You said quickly, worrying that your loud demeanour would wake them up.

“No, no. Vision has them for the weekend. Come on, baby, you need to eat to soak up some of that alcohol.”

Wanda picked up some of the food with a fork she’d gotten from the drawer and gently held onto your chin until you opened it so she could put the food in.

Scraping your teeth against the metal to pull the food off, you closed your mouth and chewed.

“Good girl.” Wanda murmured softly, her hand that previously held your chin now dropping to rest comfortably on your arm as you continued to eat.

With your inhibitions lowered, you found it increasingly difficult to maintain a calm exterior around the redhead, and soon found yourself blushing at the praise.

Something that did not go unnoticed by Wanda.

When she was happy that you’d eaten enough, she took your hand and led you to one of her guest rooms.

Using her magic, she pulled some fresh linen from the closet and quickly worked to make up the bed. Then she left you alone for a few moments before coming back with a large t-shirt.

When she came back into the room, you’d just finished texting your mum to let her know that you were staying at Wanda’s and that you’d call her tomorrow.

“Here.”

Placing your phone on the table, you stood up from where you were sitting on the bed and walked up to Wanda.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” Wanda interrupted, “What’s wrong, baby?”

She asked when you continued to stand there, clean clothes in your hand.

“Sorry, I’m still kinda tipsy. Do you mind helping me take this dress off? I-I can’t reach the zip.”

You turned around, your back facing the redhead, hoping to get her help.

You weren’t trying to be flirtatious or push any boundaries but you couldn’t help it. Your inebriated state had seemed to lower what little control you had left.

All that could be heard in the room was the faint unzipping of the metal down your outfit. But you could practically hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as they burned red at how intimate the two of you were getting without having actually done anything.

Slipping out of the dress, you whispered a soft “thank you,” and pulled the t-shirt over your head and down your waist.

You resisted the urge to tug the shirt to your nose as the smell of Wanda’s clothes threatened to overwhelm you.

You wearing her clothes made you all warm and fuzzy inside; as if she was claiming you, marking you with this one piece of clothing.

Finally, you turned back around to face Wanda who silently stood there, the bright moonlight shining through the window, lighting up part of her face, allowing you to see how her eyes were black with lust but speckled with a red glow.

You swallowed hardly, as if now aware of the fact that you had just brazenly bared your practically naked body to her.

“Thank you for the clothes, Wanda.” You murmured, after gathering enough courage to speak.

Though, whatever steadiness you had been able to muster in your voice was surely eradicated at Wanda’s next words.

“Thank you, Mommy.”

Wanda corrected you, her hand raising up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your mouth went dry as you simply nodded, “Thank you for the clothes, Mommy.”

The moment those words left your mouth, a growl rumbled from Wanda’s throat and that was the only warning you had before her lips were on yours.

The kiss was passionate but short-lived. She’d pulled away to guide you backwards, the back of your knees hitting the bed behind you. She carefully laid you down, the soft duvet enveloping you both the moment your bodies touched it.

Then Wanda began kissing you again, this time, longer than the kiss before. Her hands roamed your body before resting comfortably on your hips. Her grip was bruising but not painful. With her flush against you, you could feel her strap through the thin sweatpants she’d been wearing when you first arrived.

You started to moan at the feel of her against you as, with each kiss, you sobered up. Instead, drinking in all that was Wanda. When Wanda ripped her lips from yours with another growl, a whine slipped from your throat before you could stop it.

Wanda smiled, her green eyes hypnotising, “I’m gonna make you feel good, baby.”

Wanda planted kisses on your bare skin as she travelled down your body. Lifting her shirt that you were wearing, she softly kissed your stomach and your breasts before lightly nipping at your skin. You winced when she tugged on your nipples, the pain quickly melting into pleasure.

Your hands flew up to tangle in her hair as you lifted your hips up to try to gain some relief from the burning arousal between your thighs.

“Please.”

Wanda tsked at you but said nothing more as she went further down your body, reaching your thighs. With a breath caught in your throat, you slowly opened your legs to accommodate for the redhead.

Wanda placed gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs, the feeling only serving to increase your arousal. Wanda then tugged your panties off down your thighs before throwing them out onto the floor. You were surely dripping now.

Your hips had a mind of their own as they started to lift slowly, trying to get some form of relief, hoping Wanda would brush her lips further up to where you needed it most.

“Shh, detka.” Wanda soothed, resting one of her hands on your stomach, pushing it back down on the duvet.

You groaned as she slipped into her Sokovian dialect; her warm breath against your soft skin.

You whined, your hips unable to move as they were still under Wanda’s hold, “Mommy, please.”

You let out a sigh when Wanda finally latched her lips onto your pussy. She licked and sucked as you twisted beneath her, moaning at the pleasure that travelled through your body.

Your hands went back to Wanda’s hair, pulling at the strands when she gently grazed her teeth against your clit before attaching her lips to it to soothe the pleasurable pain.

A string of curses fell from your lips as you begged her not to stop, your high within sight. You started to rut your hips against her face, riding her lips as she kitten licked your folds.

“You taste so good, baby.” She hummed. The vibration of her words coupled with her eating you out allowed you to reach your peak.

“Fuck, right there. Right there.” You groaned, arching off the bed and further into her mouth.

“Come for Mommy.” Wanda ordered.

Your climax washed over you like a warm ocean wave; the tingling spreading all through your body. Gasping, your body fell back to the bed. A light sheen of sweat lining your face.

“Good girl.” Wanda praised, kissing your clit one final time before moving upwards back to your face.

Wanda brought your lips in for a kiss and you revelled in your taste on her mouth. As her lips continued to move against yours, you jolted when you felt her fingers slide through your folds.

“Shhh, baby. I just need to get you ready for my strap.” Wanda murmured, kissing your neck.

Her fingers teased your entrance. Her fingertips pushing in just slightly before she pulled them back out again.

Your legs started to close, your first orgasm leaving you sensitive. But they were suddenly spread apart again. Looking up at Wanda, you saw her green eyes now sparkled red as she used her powers to keep them open for her.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for Mommy?”

You nodded frantically, catching your lip between your teeth.

Wanda didn’t reply and instead, thrust two fingers into you. She captured your lips in another kiss, swallowing the groan that would have fell from your mouth.

She continued moving her fingers in you before adding another. With her other hand, she gripped your chin forcing you to gaze directly into her eyes.

She placed another kiss on you and then leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl.”

Your legs starting to shake as her fingers, that were still inside you, made a beckoning gesture, pressing against the most sensitive part in you. With another few thrusts and brushes against that sweet spot inside you, you clenched around her fingers as you came; your arousal drenching her fingers.

You shivered when Wanda dipped her fingers between your folds to gather your wetness and rub them over her now exposed strap. She must have somehow used her powers to remove her sweatpants without you realising.

In a swift motion, you found yourself hovering above Wanda’s hips, her red strap beneath you, ready to drive itself into you.

“I’ve heard all your dirty thoughts, baby. It’s pained me to refrain from doing anything about it. But now we can. So go ahead, babygirl, ride me. Just like you’ve always wanted.”

You were too far gone to even think about the fact that Wanda had heard about your every thought. So, instead, you reached between the both of you and lined her strap with your entrance. Then with a moan, you enveloped her in your pussy until she’d bottomed out. The both of you groaned at the feeling.

You gave yourself a few moments to adjust to the feeling of your walls being stretched before you began riding her. Wanda’s hands rested on your hips, helping you as you bounced on her cock.

One of her hands balled up the t-shirt you were still wearing; the material creasing in her fist.

“As much as I wanted you naked, you look so pretty in my t-shirt, detka. You’re mine. Do you understand that? You belong to me.”

“I’m yours, Mommy.” You muttered as your thrusts started to become more frantic as your neediness grew.

Wanda looked up at you when you whined and saw your half-lidden eyes, black with lust. Grabbing at your hips, she flipped you over so she was back on top of you.

She then started to fuck you hard, her thighs slapping against yours, the crude sound filling the walls. As she increased her pace, it was all you could do to wrap your legs around her waist to meet each thrust.

She whispered sweet nothings in your ear as she praised you when you continued to beg, “Mommy, faster. God, please. There. Right there.”

With each rough thrust, the leather of the harness the strap was attached to, rubbed against Wanda’s clit. She fucked you without cause, the both of you chasing your own highs.

“Come on, baby. Be a good girl and come for Mommy.”

Wanda pushed harder into you a few more times before you came around her strap, the orgasm almost painful as your back arched off the duvet. Wanda’s climax soon followed as she kissed you passionately, needing to feel your mouth on hers again.

When she slowed and finally pulled out, you winced at the emptiness. Wanda hummed to quieten you before pulling you into her arms as you both caught your breath.

When she felt your breathing steady against her chest, she lay you on your side and left to remove the strap and get you a glass of water.

You gulped the liquid down, relishing when the coolness soothed your throat; the sounds Wanda had pulled from you leaving it raw.

The two of you then lay in each other’s arms, a calm silence filling the air as you started to drift off.

A ping of a phone rang out disturbing you both. You reached over the nightstand to grab your phone; your heart racing when you saw the screen.

You looked over to Wanda who was laying beneath you, red hair streaked with orange tussled around her face accentuating her perfect jaw line.

Noticing you staring at her with wide eyes, she furrowed her brows. “What?”

Instead of answering, you muttered under your breath, “Shit.”

Your audio message to ‘Mum’ has been delivered successfully.

GODDDDDDDDDDDD

“R.”

Lady Lesso x Ever Reader

cw : very light angst // my take on jealous and possessive leo with a little twist // just a sprinkle of spice // age gap // older woman x younger woman

ao3 — https://archiveofourown.org/works/43127551

it’s funny that aside from lady lesso’s scenes and edits, i still haven’t watched the film. it just goes to show how hopeless i am, i think :'))

both the name and the overall feel is inspired by the song K. by Cigarettes after Sex

“M’lady, will you attend tonight’s ball with me?”

Here, you, the final year student at the school for good, are being asked by a first year Prince to go to the ball on his arm. He is charming and all but, to be brutally honest, you are just not interested. You may be physically present in front of him, but mentally, you are anywhere but here, or more precisely, your mind is busy floating about the school for evil in search of one evil dean with hair the hue of deep rosé.

That perpetually kind face of yours has its own perks as well as drawbacks. In this instance, it has brought about an undesired outcome. Perhaps he must have mistaken the beginning of polite rejection on your face as meekness, because you are on the verge of expressing your disinterest when you suddenly find his lips a hair’s breadth away from yours. You swivel your head as soon as you realise, though he still manages to catch you at the corner of your mouth.

Quickly taking a few steps back, and re-establishing a good distance between the two of your bodies, repulsed though you are by his insensitive behaviour, you will the desire to slap him away, instead mustering a professional smile.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer. I already have someone I want to go to the ball with.”

With that, you leave, neither waiting nor wanting to see his reaction or hear his response.

Despite your mind being away from your body, your feet successfully, dutifully carry you towards the woman who reigns over your very mind.

Once you arrive at your destination, the woman in question whom you have been painstakingly trying to romance all these years is locked in a gentle waltz with another girl. The more rational part of you reasons that the dean is just coaching her students, but in the end, the green eyed monster outmatches logic.

And when the girl in those elegantly long arms inches closer to your woman than what is deemed appropriate, you decide that you hate this girl. The bubbling jealousy mingled with hatred may or may not have accidentally on purpose trigger a harmless spell from your lips. You watch, secretly amused, as she trips over her feet, falling onto her buttocks in a hilarious display. As evil as it will make you sound, to your relief, the dean makes no moves to prevent her student from falling even though she could very well have.

No sooner has she dismissed the nevers, leaving only the pair of you in the room, than you approach her, a grin on your face, and voice cheery as you ask, “So Lady Lesso, have you decided who you’re going to the ball with?”

You will not go as far as to say that she is fond of you, though you are relatively confident that after all your steadfast efforts, she has grown to fancy you even if only a teeny tiny bit. So, it is like a punch to the gut when you hear her say, “Whether I have decided or not, or whoever I’m attending the ball with is none of your business,-” Her words are laced with venom, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, and when she forces the next sentence, a scowl on her face, as if it repulses her to even say it out loud, you brace yourself for the worst. “-just as it is certainly not my concern whose tongue you allow to shove down your throat.”

And worst it is indeed.

“I- you-” The revelation that she must have seen you in that scandalous position renders you speechless. On the other hand, the possibility that, contrary to what she says, and judging by her way of wording, she could very well be jealous makes you jubilantly jittery.

A terrible mistake.

She must have interpreted your hesitation to reply as anxiousness for being caught red-handed. Her disappointed little sigh is the only trigger you need to pull yourself together, crying after her as she moves to walk away.

“No, wait! Please.”

Nothing.

Her back glares mockingly back at you.

“Please, Leo.”

That does it. The dean’s signature cane descends onto the floor with a resounding thud.

Her voice is stone cold, as she hisses the cutting retort through gritted teeth.

“You have no right calling me that!”

“I swear it’s nothing of that sort. Whatever you think happened did not happen.”

It earns you no acknowledgements: no retorts, no movements; only silence so loud and thick that it suffocates you.

She is slowly slipping through your fingers, and you feel utterly helpless.

Three years of pining over your sweetheart just for her to simply walk away from you, possibly forever.

Like hell you will allow that!

You have come across a peculiarly interesting topic in the library of virtue the other day.

An oath.

The lover’s demise, so it is labelled.

It should be obvious by the name alone that the oath poses a threat to anyone and everyone who dares use it.

Despite what the name suggests, despite what the instructions read, several instances have been recorded of people willingly exposing themselves to the thing that can very well lead them to their downfall.

The lover’s demise, or known once upon a time as the heart blood oath, is a curse in its essence, which requires for the user to get direct access to their heart by way of sticking a knife, a dagger or whatever is convenient, to their chests, and once done, by chanting a special spell, the user will then be able to prove whatever they wish to prove.

Little good comes from the oath.

According to the records, formerly, the oath is used to prove one’s innocence, most commonly seen in thievery and murder cases. The way it works is that if one’s confession, usually the accused, is false, one’s heart will immediately cease to beat. If it is indeed true, as long as one keeps leading an honest life, true to one’s words, no harms will befall them. However, once one commits a thievery, either unknowingly or deliberately, as opposed to their confession, one’s heart will begin to shrivel, eventually disintegrating.

Evidences further show that at one point in time, the heart blood oath has become a way for lovers to prove their love. Not only will the oath tell whether the feelings are true or not, but the user will also bear the brunt of the curse if their feelings are to waver in the future.

The most important information here is that the feelings of both parties involved are to be taken into consideration. Even when the oath user stays true to their feelings for the rest of their life, if whoever they are confessing their love to, does not reciprocate their feelings, or if their partner eventually falls out of love with them further down the road, the curse will still show its effects. However, only the one, whose person has been directly exposed to the oath, will meet their demise.

Hence, it is deemed the grandest gesture of love, and the name “the lover’s demise” comes to be.

It is said that only those with the bravest of souls and biggest of hearts dare take the oath, but “what lunacy” , you have thought, exasperated. Only the most foolish of fools can find such absurdity an act of bravery.

How ironic it is that right at this moment you are entertaining the idea of using the very thing which, until just a while ago, you have believed to be an extremely nonsensical stupidity.

Somehow, you find it woefully poetic that love holds the ultimate power of reducing even the most pragmatic of people to reckless fools.

Alas, one of those fools is you.

As soon as you extend your arm towards the weapon rack, a dainty dagger flies into your open palm.

The rustling of fabric as you cut open your corset in half attracts the dean’s attention back towards you. The razor sharp tip of a dagger has only just rested betwixt your bosoms when all of a sudden, your hands are pried away, wrists firmly locked in long unyielding fingers.

“Let me go.” Fuelled by stubborn determination, you struggle in her vice-like grip, “Let me go. I’ll prove to you now with whom my heart truly lies.” but the woman in front of you does not so much as budge. Instead, following a loud clatter of the dagger as it slips through your fingers, you are yanked into her arms, restrained against her chest.

“Are you mad?” Her query is glazed with irritation, and a sprinkle of, dare you say it, concerned disbelief.

“If falling in love with you is your version of mad, then yes, in fact, I am absolutely, irrevocably mad.”

Your resolute confession seems to render her speechless. Her brows unravel and she gazes down at you with something akin to hunger in her eyes.

Only then do you register, with burnt cheeks and a maniacally galloping heart, that all your fruitless attempts to struggle free from her hands have left your ruined corset more undone than it is supposed to be, making you more exposed to sultry green eyes than you have realised. The air has suddenly become awfully thick. It does little to help either that your chest, as good as bare, is pressed flush against the dean’s.

“I want to kiss you.” When she murmurs, her breath is warm on your face. You can almost feel the delightful throbs of her heart beating in harmony with your own.

“Kiss me.” Your response to her is as equally soft, breathless. “Kiss me, Leo.” And then, her lips are descending upon yours.

The kiss is both sweet and spicy as is she, both downy and desperate, sucking your lips rosy together with the breath out of your lungs, and leading your tongue in a soul-stirring, spine-tingling waltz. Once a need for air becomes too strong for you, it is with great reluctance that she frees your lips, a glistening string of saliva crumbling as she moves, but bodies remain melting into each other.

“I want you in my arms during tonight’s ball.”

“I do not wish to be anywhere else.”

By the time twilight comes, you are already dressed and ready for the ball.

Lady Lesso has sent you back to your dormitory with her coat atop your shoulders, subsequently dusting your cheeks maroon by remarking that you are for her eyes only. You have decided to incorporate the luxurious midnight piece into your outfit, layering it over your pearly white satin gown, giving it that yin and yang look which you think is only fitting considering that you and the dean are from opposite sides.

The banquet hall is anything but empty when you arrive, and yet, it is lacking the one person that you are most anticipating to see. After an exchange of pleasantries with some of your friends and familiar faces, with the red head whom you dearly adore still nowhere in sight, you excuse yourself to get a breath of fresh air. It is on the balcony, amidst tracing the twinkling little stars, where you are, once again, approached by the prince whose offer you have just declined earlier today.

“Just where is this someone you were speaking of, I wonder.”

“They’re on their way.”

He does not seem entirely convinced at your terse reply, incredulity evident on his features despite his understanding hum.

“If you’d like, and if you’ve changed your mind, my Princess, I am more than happy to accompany you.”

The way he addresses you, albeit not being uncommon amongst royalty, perturbs you, so much so that you intend to blatantly spell it out to this dunce of a Prince that you are absolutely, positively, utterly not interested in him at all, except that someone beats you to it.

There is an almost tangible presence behind your back. You immediately know whose without needing to turn, and you are subsequently proven true when her cadence, like warm whiskey, trickles down the length of your spine.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Care to enlighten me what the commotion is all about, hmm?”

“With all due respect Lady Lesso, I don’t think whatever happens between the two of us, evers, is of no concern to you.”

His face that you have once considered objectively charming, now looks very punchable all of a sudden.

“No?”

You can feel that her front is now pressed against your back.

“Oh dear me, I certainly believed that my partner’s safety and well-being was positively my concern.” Arms are suddenly slithering along your waist, fitting you like a well-tailored belt. “You’ve tested my patience enough with that little display of yours in the hallway. I don’t care that you’re not my student, certainly not that you’re an ever. I will personally shepherd you to the doom room and most delightedly demonstrate you just what villainy I am capable of, if you touch so much as a hair on her head again. This Princess, my Princess, right here is strictly off limits.”

She has addressed you exactly the same as the prince has mere moments ago, yet at the same time, it is entirely different somehow. Being called hers has a delightful effect both on and inside your body as the tips of your ears burn, and flowers of various shapes and hues thrive beneath your ribcage.

Meanwhile, the dean, whose arm around you never relents, commands with finality. “Now. back. off.” Instead, you can feel it tightening a touch as she pulls you into her, and following every word, she pokes the ever in front of you with the tip of her trusty cane, intentionally applying more force which leads to the poor thing unceremoniously falling onto his bums.

And as he leaves you two be, you get to behold your woman for the very first time tonight. Unabashedly, you stare, enthralled all over again, at her standing elegantly tall and regal in a dark body hugging gown that fits her like a glove. Not an inch of her body is left unhidden by the fabric, neckline high and sleeves long, and yet, you find it tantalisingly provocative that it is clinging to her body in all the right places.

“I think I like you best when you’re dressed in black.” Your voice is but a breathy whisper, and she lets out a delicious chuckle, a warm sound that pulsates deep within you, for you are still pressed against each other, now chest to chest. “I always dress in black, darling.”

“Indeed, and oh how well you dress it!”

“I think I like you best-” Her hand cradles your jaw in the same manner as her arm cradling your waist. “-when you’re just with me and no one else.”

“My my professor, is this your way of saying you love me?”

“No.” She denies, parks her forehead on yours, “This is my way of saying I love you.” , and then come her lips crashing down onto your lips, kissing you with a ferocity that is certain to leave bruises come morning.

---

making bestfriend!ethan cum in his pants <3

it’s a random monday night and ethan came over to yours, to do his homework. you distract him, of course, and he ends up on the floor on his knees, painting your toenails for you. you’re sat at the edge of the bed, and ethan nervously take your left foot in his hand, his soft caresses making your spine tingle.

he’s almost halfway done with your first foot, when you decide to lay flat on the bed. he looks up at you as you do so, your crop top rising slightly, and he’s able to just see the bottom of your breasts. his face flushes a deep red, and he quickly looks away in embarrassment, and returns to painting your toes. he knows you can’t see him, though, and takes quick glances back up to your breasts every now and then.

you try to get comfortable at the awkward angle, and shift your upper body slight, causing your right foot to accidentally graze over ethan’s crotch. this causes his breath to audibly hitch.

“sorry!” you say, thinking you just hit his leg with your foot.

he takes a second to get himself together, and finally responds. “it’s okay..” he says lowly. another second passes by, and he mutters a “i didn’t mind” under his breath.

this causes you to lift yourself up on your elbows. “huh? what did you say?” you ask, genuinely not able to hear what the boy just said.

“oh- uh- uh… nothing. it’s not important.” he says quickly, and you notice how red his face is. you question it, but decide not to say anything out loud this time. you plop back down on the bed, and ethan watches as your upper half bounces, which makes your boobs bounce as well.

“christ,” he curses under his breath. you sit up quickly, and catch ethan staring at your tits. he returns back to painting your toes, not realizing that you had just caught him. you notice there’s a growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, and you can’t help but smirk. you lay back down on the bed while ethan continues.

you pick up your right foot again, this time, placing it directly on ethan’s bulge. his mouth opens, but doesn’t say anything, afraid you’ll realize what your doing and stop.

after a bit, and he still doesn’t say anything, you begin moving your foot back and forth on his now fully hard dick.

ethan seems to forget how to think. he doesn’t move, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. the feeling of your foot is driving him wild from the bottom up, the feeling sending shudders down his spine. he doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle after a while. his face is flush and he’s starting to breathe heavily, trying in vain to think of the right words. his heart is pumping wildly in his chest, his body still going tingly and sending chills down his spine as little whines and moans come out of his mouth.

you lift your crop top up just a little, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. this makes him fold even more. the poor boy is already so close, just the feeling of your foot and the sight of your bare chest is enough for him.

he feels paralyzed at this point, realizing he’s teetering on the edge of an orgasm. he begins to rock back and forth, in tandem with your foot. he can no longer hide his moans from you, starting to get loud, even though he’s so embarrassed.

“fuck, y/n… please…” he begs. you smirk, but don’t say anything, just adding more pressure with your foot.

“i’m.. im gonna… i’m gonna cum..” he says the last word harshly, still feeling so ashamed at the sinful act. “please.. i cant cum like this, y/n… please, baby..” the pet name makes your stomach drop, and arousal forms in your panties.

“it’s okay, e..” you sit up on your elbows. “i want you to cum in your pants, sweet boy… make a mess for mommy.”

he groans at that, and quickly reaches his high, rocking back and forth against your foot, his head shooting up to look at the ceiling, letting out soft “ah, ah, ahs” as he paints the inside of his boxers with thick cum. you instantly feel the wetness seep through, it showing up nicely on the gray he’s wearing. you smile sweetly at him.

once he returns back to earth, he looks back down at his pants, feeling so hot and humiliated, but he loved every second of it. he looks back up to your pretty face.

“t-thank you, mommy…”

ADUJCSIACBQW9AUDGCB

A goddess

Summary: Mysterious girl with an assassin mother.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!Romanoff!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader

Warnings: mother bear Natasha

Word count: 1328

a/n: thank you for the request! I loved writing this :) repost, tags didn’t work

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Request: can you please do a Kate Bishop x Romanoff!Reader? Where Kate doesn't know who Reader is because she's only seen her once, so she tries to describe Reader to Clint. Then Natasha comes over and Clint is like "Natasha, Kate was telling me about her new crush, and you should have heard how many creative words she used to describe your daughter" and a little bit of mother bear!Natasha? 🥺🥺🥺 thank you, i really love your work

”Hey, Clint.” Kate walks into the common room where Clint is watching the television. “Can you help me with something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“So, I have a crush on this girl.” Kate starts as she sits down next to Clint, letting out a sigh with a dreamy look on her face. “She is the most beautiful girl ever. Her face was like a damn painting, even though I only saw a glimpse of it, her body looked like it belonged to a goddess I should worship and my god...her ass looked great in the skirt she was wearing.” She leans against the couch, smiling at the short memory of the girl walking past her and smiling at her. “I thought I was gonna pass out when she looked at me.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.” Clint grumbles. “And that description told me absolutely nothing.”

“She was here two days ago. She was wearing a blue skirt and a white top. Her Y/H/C hair was in a braid.” Clint’s face turns into a knowing one. “Do you know her?” Kate sits straighter when she sees the look on his face.

“Oh, I know her.”

“Know who?” Natasha walks into the common room, holding a book in her hand.

Clint turns to look at her with a smirk. "Natasha, Kate was telling me about her new crush, and you should have heard how many creative words she used to describe your daughter.” Kate’s face falls and her eyes widen. “You said you wanted to worship her body, right? And what did you say about her behind?”

“What?” Natasha furrows her brows as she stares at very panicky looking Kate.

“I-“ Kate looks between the two older adults. “Natasha’s daughter?” She whispers.

“Yeah. Her name is Y/N. She was visiting Natasha two days ago.” He turns to Natasha, loving the situation. “What do you think, Nat? Should we give Kate your daughter’s number so she can do some body worshiping?”

“Absolutely not.” Natasha crosses her arms over her chest. Her glare makes Kate shrink in her seat. If she knew the unknown beauty was Natasha’s daughter she would’ve never brought it up. “I’m going to ban her from ever coming back here.” She mumbles to herself, shaking her head before walking to her room.

Clint chuckles, taking out his phone. “Here. Her number.” He shows the contact to Kate.

“Are you sure? Won’t Natasha be mad?” Kate glances at the way Natasha went to, making sure she isn’t somewhere there lurking around.

“Yes.” Clint shrugs. “But I’m her godfather, I can give her number to you. She’ll be happy.”

Kate stares at the number. “Okay.” She takes out her own phone to write it down. “You won’t tell Natasha?”

“I won’t, but when she finds out I’m not going to protect.”

“Right.” She mumbles, pressing the number to text her. “Guess I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t find out.”

After two weeks of nonstop talking and few dates, Y/N and Kate finally hanging out at the tower together as Natasha left to a three day mission yesterday. The other Avengers promised not to say anything as long as Natasha didn’t start threatening them.

They aren’t dating just yet, but they do share occasional kisses and touches between each other. Like right now, they are sitting on the common room’s couch, watching a movies together while cuddling under a blanket. Kate is holding Y/N in her arms, rubbing her side with her thumb.

“You know, I’m glad I decided to text you.” Kate mumbles.

“You almost didn’t?” Y/N turns around to see her, now sitting on her lap. Kate shakes her head, gripping onto her waist. “How come?”

“Your mom.” She scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer.

Y/N giggles. “She can be a little overprotective, sure, but she means well. The whole process of getting me was very hard on the both of us and she just wants to make sure I’m safe.”

“I’m pretty sure she wanted to murder me.”

Y/N frowns. Her mother doesn’t know about them. She starts smirking. “Are you the reason I’m not allowed to come here without her supervision anymore?” Kate’s eyes widen as her whole face turns red. “You are!” She laughs. “What did you say? My mom said you said some disgustingly inappropriate things.”

“I- well..” Kate stammers, looking anywhere else but her. “I complimented you.” Y/N’s brow raises. It’s scary how much she looks like Natasha when doing that. “I said you ass looked great in your skirt and I wish I could worship your body.” She mumbles quietly. Y/N’s face feels warm. She looks down with a small smile. Now it’s Kate’s turn to smirk. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t complain.” Y/N mutters, playing with the shorter hairs in Kate’s neck.

Kate’s hands slide under her shirt, going up and down her bare skin. “Good to know.” Whispering, she starts nipping the skin of her neck, leaving little love marks there. Y/N moves her hair deeper into Kate’s hair, pushing her face closer.

“Y/N?” A voice stops them from going any further. Y/N scrambles off of Kate’s lap and the other girl turns her head around in panic. “Kate?” Natasha stares at the two with a very clear glare on her face. “What are you two doing?” She asks even though it’s very clear.

“Nothing.” They state at the same time.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home, Y/N?”

“Well...you weren’t supposed to be home yet.” Y/N mumbles, rubbing her hands together.

“That’s your reasoning? I wasn’t supposed to come home yet?” Her pointed look moves to Kate. “And what are you doing with my daughter? I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you seeing her.”

“Mom.” Y/N walks closer to her before Kate can answer. “If it came to you nobody could see me. You’d wrap me up in bubble wrap and never let me leave.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Barely.”

“I like Kate, mom.” Y/N lets out an annoyed sigh. “Wouldn’t you rather I was with someone who is an Avenger rather than someone you don’t know?”

Natasha stays quiet as her gaze moves between the two. Kate stands up, still staying on her spot so she wouldn’t anger the older woman. “I’m sorry, Ms Romanoff. We know we should’ve told you, but we were scared.” Y/N nods. “I really do like Y/N and I wish I could keep seeing her. With your permission.” She adds quickly.

“She won’t take me away from you, mom.” Y/N gives her a small smile.

Natasha sighs. Rolling her eyes she walks up to Y/N to pull her into a tight hug. Y/N giggles and wraps her arms around her while Natasha kisses the top of her head. “If I have to see you two without your clothes on even one time, I’m kicking you both out.” She grumbles. She isn’t actually that mad or annoyed, she just wishes her daughter would be her little girl forever. “And if even one hair is out of her head I’m going to hunt you down. Do you understand, Kate?”

“Yes!” Kate nods rapidly. “I understand.”

“Good.” Natasha pulls away, holding her hands on Y/N’s cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We’ll talk later about the whole disobeying my rules part.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but nods either way. “Yes, mom.” Natasha grins, giving one more kiss to her cheek before walking away. “See?” Y/N turns to Kate. “She isn’t that bad.”

Kate giggles quietly, still fearing Natasha will rip her head off if she is too loud. “I guess.” She wraps her arms around Y/N’s waist and kisses her. “You wanna continue in my room?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

DRESS

| you and abby are hiding your relationship from your friends, but you can't deny the sexual tension in the car before nora's end of summer party

| cw: 18+, mommy kink, friends with benefits situation, car sex, use of strap (r!receiving), pet names, public sex i suppose but it's said that they're in a very secluded area, happy ending

| wc: 2.5k

Maybe if Abby didn’t want you to get turned on on the way to the party, she shouldn’t have worn her hair down with a baseball cap turned around. Not to mention the black cutoff she was wearing. You feel like you're going insane. Your thighs press together in the passenger seat as she lights another cigarette, holding it slightly out the window so that the smoke doesn't get inside. 

When you heard Nora was finally throwing her end of summer kickback, you and Abby jumped at the opportunity to attend. It was always nice to see everyone after the summer had kept everyone busy. But you didn’t even care about that anymore. The only thing you could care about was how large Abby’s arms looked in her shirt, and how small the cigarette looked between her fingers.

You had been casually seeing each other, emphasis on casually. You had been friends for a very long time. You had grown up together, and when you went to college you moved in together. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you weren’t with Abby. But, getting together was difficult. It would be weird to announce it to your friends. You were both scared that it would become too much, and it would ruin your friendship. So you decided to take it slow– really slow. You mainly had sex, and then didn’t talk about the sex after. So, you especially didn’t want to walk into the party with all your other friends smelling like sex.

“You need something?” She says, snapping you out of your daze.

You shake your head, scared of the words that would come out if you tell her what you were thinking. You pull the dress you're wearing down out of a nervous habit; mainly hoping that it'll hide the way your thighs are moving together every time she looks over at you. It's embarrassing, honestly. She hasn't even done anything. You’ve seen her in an outfit like this countless times. But there’s something about tonight; something about the way she’s driving and the way she’s carrying herself. So easily confident. You’re captivated by her. 

What you didn’t know is that you were driving Abby equally as crazy. The red dress you had picked out specifically for this party hugged your body in all the right ways. It accentuates her favorite parts of you. When you walked out into the living room all dolled up, she swore she almost came in her pants. She immediately went back into the room and threw on the strap under her shorts. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. But with the way you were pressing your thighs together, she knew something was working for you tonight. She decided that she didn’t want to make it easy for you though. You would have to beg; you would have to get really desperate for Abby to consider fucking you on the side of the road.

“Do you think Mel will be there?” You say, trying to ease the sexual tension in the car.

“Hmm– I’m not sure. I know Owen said she wasn’t feeling the best the past few days. I don’t even know if he’ll be there, honestly.” 

“Oh, I hope she feels better.” You reply. Abby nods her head and hums, signaling the end of the conversation.

You wish she would make small talk, you wish she would do anything to distract the way you were thinking. She can hear you thinking, but it doesn’t work in your favor. Abby puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in the car. Then, she puts a rough hand onto your thigh, rubbing her thumb back and forth on the skin there. You almost scream. Your back straightens and you let out a small puff of air, showing your displeasure of the act. You want her to take away her hand, you don’t want to ask her to fuck you on the side of the road. But you also think you may die if she does. She inches her hand further up, the side of her palm almost touches where you need her. You look over at her; panicked. She has her tongue in her cheek, like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Abby,” you mumble.

“What, baby?” She says, pinky twitching towards you.

“Stop trying to turn me on.”

“I’m not trying to do anything. If you get turned on, that’s not my fault.” She knows it doesn't work like that, but she also knows that you love when she pretended it did. 

Abby 100% knew what she was doing. It was purely selfish. She wants to fuck you. Now. She wants to take you to the backseat and have her way with you. But she was never going to pull over the car. You would hang it over her head for years to come. ‘Remember that time you got so horny we were late to Nora’s party?’ She can practically hear your voice in her head. She knows you can't take it; knows that you will have to ask her to pull over.

Abby’s hand moves up far enough that she’s finally touching your cunt. You can’t help the small noise that escapes from your mouth. A whine; a plea. Whatever it was, Abby laughs, then moves her hand back down.

“No more teasing, please.”

“Why not?” She questions, smug look on her face when she turns to look at you.

You decide to be honest to her, “I will make you pull over the car if you keep teasing me.”

“So, make me pull over the car.” Abby says nonchalantly, putting her eyes back on the road.

You suck in a deep breath and pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “They’ll know,”

“They’re not gonna know. Just ask me to pull over. We’re in the middle of nowhere; there’s not even any streetlights. It’s two words, sweetheart, you know I’m up for it.”

The silence is deafening. You try to work up the courage as best as you can; opening and closing your mouth repeatedly. 

Her hand pushes up towards your clit again. “Pull over.” You moan out, before even knowing what you’re saying.

Abby speeds onto the shoulder of the road, not bothering to turn her hazards on since you’re in such a secluded area. The good part about the drive to Nora’s house was that there was barely a road. It was mainly dirt, the yellow lines that were once painted had been long forgotten. You and Abby had made fun of her for moving out in the middle of nowhere; now you wanted to personally thank her for it. 

Abby moves her seat all the way back. Before you move into her lap, you take off your panties and leave them in the passenger seat. She groans and takes off her hat. You sit right down onto her lap and moan when you feel the hard silicone that’s under her shorts.

“Why’d you wear that? Did you plan this?” You say accusingly. 

“Knew I’d need it. That’s all.”

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you say before smashing your lips onto hers.

Her hands meld into your ass. She uses her strength to move you back and forth on her lap, which forces you to grind into her. You whine into her mouth. She moves her kisses onto your neck and continues to rock you back and forth on her.

“Please, I want it.” You say, feeling yourself getting close from the way her pants are rubbing on your clit.

“Want what, sweetheart? C’mon, tell me.”

“Want your cock; don’t wanna cum like this.”

“You always ask me so politely. Love getting you worked up. S’the only time you’re not a brat.”

You pout at her and she smiles; knowing that her words are driving you crazy.

“C’mon, hips up,”

You shoot up off of her lap, causing her to laugh again. Of course, she takes her time taking off her shorts and boxers. When she finally does, she strokes the strap a few times, like she can actually feel it. She gives you a pointed look, and you know she’s ready for you to sit down on her. You’re careful, knowing that her strap can be painful; no matter how wet you are. When you finally do, you let out a small gasp. Tears immediately spring to your eyes as you start moving up and down on Abby. She wraps a strong arm around your waist; helping you. You shift and the backend of the strap hits her clit, causing her to moan out.

“Fuck, there y’go, baby. Taking it like a champ.”

The praise makes you move faster. You know that the strap is getting her off too. You fall into her neck and shudder, trying to roll your hips. You can’t deny you’re getting tired though.

“Always make mommy do all the fucking work, hm?” Abby says, catching onto your hints. “That’s okay. Y’know I’ll always take care of you.”

She starts moving your hips and up and down again.

She finds the spot that makes your hips twitch and your breath catch, “Oh, there it is– just needed me to find it, huh?” 

You bob your head up and down; your mouth hangs open. Abby closes it for you, wiping off the small dribble of spit that slipped out.

You feel your head grow fuzzier and fuzzier every time she moves your hips on her cock. You’re practically braindead. From her outfit, to the teasing, and how she wore the fucking strap under her clothes. You knew that you were in for. If you had a thought in your head that wasn’t about Abby’s cock, you’d be worried about how you’re gonna look at the party; how Abby is going to look. There’s no way that there’s not a wet spot on her pants. And you have to put back on your panties, that are soaked, after this. You want to beg her to start the car and take you back home. You want her to fuck you all night long. You feel a tear fall out of your eye and onto Abby’s shoulder.

“Y’cryin, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whine into her neck, the word gets caught up in a moan.

“My poor girl, what’s wrong?” Abby pushes you up so she can see your face. She pouts at you when she sees the tears. Never once does she stop moving your hips on top of hers. I mean– she’s not gonna delay her orgasm just because you’re a crybaby.

“Don’t wanna go to the party. Wanna stay like this forever.”

She tries to quiet a laugh, “I know. Mommy’s cock is so good, huh? Just wanna sit on it for eternity.”

You nod your head sincerely.

“Just focus on cumming, then we can talk about round two, yeah? Go on, rub your clit, sweetheart.”

You do as she says, reaching your hand between your bodies and rubbing the sensitive spot in rhythm with Abby’s movements. 

Obviously this wasn’t enough for her though. Before you know it Abby’s holding your hips off her lap and thrusting the strap into you. You almost cum just thinking about how strong she is. You look over at her arm and watch the muscle bulge as she holds you up into the air. You try to focus on your hand that’s supposed to be rubbing your clit, but you can’t. You press them both onto her chest, trying to feel her tits under the sports bra she’s wearing.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, taking one of your hands and moving the hair off your sweaty forehead. 

The windows were completely fogged. Abby had turned off the car, which meant she turned off the A/C. You don’t even care. At this point, she could fuck you on the side of a busy highway with a state trooper ten feet away, and you would let her.

“You look so pretty right now. So fucking pretty, doll. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” 

This is how you know the strap is still hitting Abby’s clit– she’s rambling. No matter how cool she tries to act, the second the words start tumbling out of her mouth and she’s letting out low grunts, she’s done for.

You decide to be bold. “Am I making you feel good, mommy?”

She lets out a noise that borders on a growl, “Y’know you are, princess. Just keep being my little fuckdoll and I’ll cum, yeah?”

Her words do more damage to you than yours did to her. You’re a mess again, whimpering and clawing at her arms.

“I know you’re close,” she teases, “Cum for me, mommy’s gonna cum with you.”

With her permission, you let go. You feel yourself fall into her neck, but it feels like slow motion. You think you can actually hear your heart beating. The thick blood pumps inside of your ears, and it takes you a second to realize you’re still in the car, on top of Abby’s strap.

Abby rubs your back as you lay on top of her, pressing a kiss to your forehead a few times. “You’re alright, baby.” She says reassuringly, shushing you when you whine into her.

You sit up. Your brain is still mush– mush enough that you can finally voice your feelings. “I don’t wanna do this… thing anymore.”

Abby’s face goes blank, “Was it bad? Or too much? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck it up. Oh jesus I’m such–”

You cut her off, “No. It was really good. That’s why I wanna date. I don’t wanna just be friends who fuck anymore. I wanna be with you.”

“You wanna be with me because I fucked you in a car in the middle of nowhere?”

You scoff and hit her chest, moving off of her into the passenger seat.

“Come back here,” Abby says. You deny her, pressing your back to the door. Abby grabs your leg instead, massaging the muscles in your calf.

“You really wanna do it?” She asks. “What if it’s weird?” Her face scrunches up.

“I think this is definitely weirder than us dating.”

She laughs and nods her head. She goes to say something, then her phone rings, “Shit, it’s Nora.”

You try to listen to the conversation, but Abby’s phone is turned down, “What’s she saying?” You whisper.

Abby takes the phone off of her ear and puts it on speakerphone. Nora’s voice comes out clear, “Listen, we all know you’re fucking! You’re probably late because you’re fucking! No one cares, just get here.”

Abby goes red and immediately takes the phone off speakerphone. She gives Nora a quick ‘alright’ and hangs up the phone.

“We are not as smooth as we thought we were.” You say, trying to giggle your way through the embarrassment.  

“Well, now we have to tell them we’re dating, so buckle up. And put your panties back on.” Abby says while starting the car. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

GIRL WAIT WAIT WAIT-

"König is very envious. He envies people with higher position, people with better skills (even though these are rare ones)" what about a fem reader, who is exactly this?

Higher position, and better than him somehow??? For the event, please! What about some hatred sex, enemies to lovers maybe. He is attracted but drowning in envy.

Pairing: König x fem! sniper! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, König being a lil bitch

A/n: did I write this thing in 20 mins? Hell yes I did. Also, sorry it’s not exactly how you requested it, but well, I write whatever I want I guess. Referring to this post

Your Colonel hates you.

König hates you with blazing fierce, even despite the fact that it was him who hand picked you into his team, him who trained you hours to no end to make you into a perfect sniper. He loathes your mere existence, gritting his teeth at the sound of your voice greeting him every morning, your bright smile addressed at him.

At your young age of 23 you completed 26 missions as a sniper, every single one of them successful. You were a natural, truly. Your smaller size and flexibility were perfect for position of a sniper, making it way easier for you to hide, able to move from one spot to another without being noticed by enemy. And König loathed it. Why the fuck were you living his dream? Just because you were born smaller? Such an injustice.

And he trained you even harder; until your right shoulder was all bruised from the kickback of a rifle, until your eyes were sharper than eagle’s, until you instinctively felt where to shoot, considering weather conditions, to aim perfectly. König shaped your skills with great precision and sternness, making a shiny diamond out of rough rock.

And sometimes König hated himself for treating you so unjustly. It wasn’t your fault that you were small, nor was it his fault that he was so huge. You were always so sweet and polite, never once talking back, no matter how harsh his words and actions were. You always treated König with respect that was borderline childish awe, taking in his every word, complying with his every demand. And he adored you for that.

Adoration on a verge on hatred - how unhealthy. You seemed to be perfect - too perfect, and König wanted to break you down, to make you look horrible, to open you up and take a look at all the disgusting things that you were hiding within so skillfully. Everyone had a bad side, right?

And that’s why he called you into his office, bending you over his desk, fucking his huge throbbing cock into your welcoming heat. Velvety walls clamped down onto his hard length desperately as you fought back all the pretty moans that threatened to fall from your lips. You way smaller body plunged forward slightly with each of König’s ferocious thrusts, your plump ass rippling at the impact of his hips against it, back arching oh so beautifully. And that’s when König finally realized.

It was him who was the fucked up one.

All this time, König believed it was your fault - that you stole his dream, taunted him with your excellent skills, teased him for failing his career as a sniper. And that moment he realized that you were the sweetest creature out there, basically worshipping your harsh and mean Colonel who treated you so harshly, who expanded your mind and abilities even further.

And König was just a pathetic envious piece of shit.

His movements halted as he watched from behind your ribs move as you breathed rapidly; he couldn’t see your face, but he noted that your ears were a few shades redder; your small hands were clinging to the shiny surface of his desk, trying to find some grounding with little success. König crouched over, resting his forehead on the table next to your head, his nose buried into the dip between your neck and shoulder, inhaling lungfuls of your sweet scent through dense fabric of his balaclava.

One of your trembling hands came to cup side of his head, rubbing it soothingly - your movements were a bit awkward due to your positioning, but sweet nevertheless. How could you be like this? Despite all harsh treatment you received before, mean words and actions, you still were so sweet with him.

- I’m sorry, - König murmured quietly, placing a kiss on your shoulder. His mouth was still covered by black balaclava, but you understood what he meant to do. - I’m so sorry.

- It’s okay, - you uttered, you voice shaky and small, arousal muddling up your thoughts.

You wriggled your hips impatiently, prompting your Colonel to move. And he complied, wringing one mind blowing orgasm out of you after another, throwing you around the table however he pleased, trying to make amends for all of his bitching to you.

Surely, it was not enough to pay you off for his horrible behavior, but König try his hardest to make it up to his sweet little sniper<3

i want to live above a bookstore café and have a little balcony garden you can see from the street that is all

a taste of honey || natasha romanov

summary: your intended date isn’t the one who’s actually sitting across from you. or gifting you a bottle of wine while eye fucking you.

words: 5.5k

pairing: ceo!natasha x ceo!fem!woc!readerthemes/ warnings: smut of the gay variety, finger fucking, getting ate out in a fancy bathroom, nipple play, pet name kink in russian (kitten, my love), pet name kink in english (honey, bunny, kitten), blink and you’ll miss it pain kink, allusions to dom/sub relationship, a misogynist WASP-y asshole named John (yeahhhhh, lol, that John), mentions of biphobia/homophobia, mentions of arranged marriages, reader’s mom is like Mr. Bennett from P&P.

note: a repost from my old account. thank you v v much to @cap-n-stuff for making this mood board the first time around and letting me carry it over here.

Not for the first time that night, you reluctantly tear your eyes away from the alluring red headed woman that was sitting at the bar and at your phone again to check the time. 

9 pm. 

It had already been an entire hour that you’ve reluctantly decided to stay for a date you reluctantly agreed to even more. When you weren’t too busy essentially eye fucking the red headed woman that kept sending smiles your way, you were checking your phone to see if the son of your mother’s work friend had even bothered to send a smoke signal of any kind. 

Both of your mothers were really adamant (well, his more than yours, because even your own mother had her limits) about you going on this already disastrous date. It was something you had successfully avoided for months, until your mother had bamboozled you into the other night over Sunday dinner. 

It was to be beneficial for everyone’s sake, especially for both families considering how well off everyone involved was. But you didn’t give a shit about doing things for other people’s benefit. You weren’t interested in becoming someone’s trophy wife, and you definitely already had a very successful business of your own to tend to. 

Please do me this favor, little bird. You could practically hear your mother’s voice right in your ear as you sipped on another glass of finely aged Bordeaux, glancing at the mysterious woman yet again. As you swallow the carefully savored wine, you tilt your glass over to her in thanks before checking your phone for the umpteenth time in that moment. 

You sigh, clearly annoyed that the guy hadn’t considered that your own time was equally as valuable. 

“Sorry I’m late.” 

The sudden intrusion shakes your attention, making you grimace. The guy removes his jacket and shakes it slightly, making a few raindrops fall into the half eaten bread basket, making you grimace.

Though the contents were no longer as warm as your initial outlook on this date, you had been planning on at least having one thing to eat for coming all the way out here. 

“I’m John.” He’s already a little too posh for your liking. From his borderline condescending tone down to the way he extends a hand for you to shake (or kiss like he was some sort of mafia don, if you had to take a guess)--he’s rubbing you in all sorts of wrong ways. He looks like he stepped right out of a Men’s Health magazine--the epitome of picture perfect to most conventional people.

But you weren’t conventional, and you weren’t interested in picture perfect. 

It takes a Herculean effort not to roll your eyes as you shake his hand in an impersonal way, also introducing yourself, before settling back in the respective seats again. You make a mental note about thoroughly washing your hands if you ever managed to make a clean break for the bathroom. 

John hadn’t really done much of anything with a lot of effort. But you figured that was his thing--doing not a whole lot while blowing the effort out of proportion when it seemed most convenient to him. He hadn’t even bothered to ask if you had arrived to the date well, or if you had even looked forward to this inconvenience at all. 

He was on just this side of icy with the waiter, all but shooing him off with his drink order. But most of all, he had interrupted the intense eye fucking that had been going on between you and the ridiculously attractive lady at the bar, currently surrounded by the menagerie of her friends. 

You’re hoping he doesn’t mistake the shiver and flush you’re suddenly overcome with as something of his doing. 

“I see you already helped yourself.” He says, eyeing the open bottle of Saint-Emilion that was already half empty along with the bread basket, “I hope you’re not too expensive down the line.”

Leaning back in your seat as you take another sip of wine, you glance over at your not so secretive admirer. Unlike you, it looks like she’s clearly enjoying herself with the company she has, an arm draped around one of them in what was hopefully a friendly way.. Part of you wishes that it had been her instead of John sitting in front of you. Lord only knows how much you would’ve enjoyed yourself more with her. 

“Are you normally this quiet, or do you just save it for the bedroom?” 

Turning back to your intended company of the evening, you couldn’t stifle the budding frustration in your stomach at John’s question. It was like no part of him was redeemable the longer you sat in his presence: misogynistic, condescending, and much too aloof for someone who’s probably had the silver spoon up his ass since the umbilical cord formed. 

It’s also as if he’s been scrutinizing you the entire night. He’s got too much of an eagle eye on the way you hold your fork. The way you chew and wipe your lips with the cloth napkin. You can’t really get a word in while he’s talking about mostly himself and what he does at his family’s company. But it’s not like you’re really all that interested in having any sort of conversation with him anyway. 

That’s why you feel no remorse when your gaze flitters back to the redhead again. 

The weight of her stare doesn’t pass you by entirely. Another glance proves your guess correct, making you smirk a little. You tear your eyes away knowing you were looking a little too long, struggling to stifle a laugh when you look at the quizzical expression on John’s face. 

The date clearly wasn’t between you and John anymore. It hadn’t been for the perpetual drone of his stuffy drawl, and the fact that he hadn’t realized it clearly amused you most of all. 

It was clear that the not so foreign stranger was still interested in you by the way your skin prickled in goosebumps. It was also clear that in all his talking, John hadn’t even bothered to compliment your dress. For all you knew, it could’ve been too inappropriate for his tastes. 

Fuck this guy, you thought. He clearly didn’t have any good tastes in clothes to even compliment you. He could fucking choke on his own self importance for all you cared. 

Seeing as one out of the two of them seemed to genuinely enjoy your outfit, you figured it would be a shame to let your dress go to waste. You had put in great effort, as you do with most things in your life, and you were determined to get your much deserved validation from someone who’d truly appreciate it, and you. 

You lean forward to rest your elbows on the table, resting your chin on top of your laced fingers to try and fight the urge to keep the slit of your dress revealing any more of your leg. You subtly cross one over the other, clenching your legs slightly, pushing your cleavage out a little to give a lovely view. Clearly none of it was for John’s enjoyment in any kind of way. 

By some miracle, the message you were trying to send reached its intended recipient. 

“Someone you know?” He asks, finally looking at you fully for the first time that night. 

“Hm?” You cooly glance at your intended participant in this date, awful at hiding the sparkling interest in your eyes. “Oh, not at all.” 

Not yet, at least.

You always were an awful liar.

For the first time that night, John gives you a semblance of an unrehearsed smile. He waits for you to elaborate, giving you time to sip and appreciate the wine you were gifted. 

“I suppose it’s not too ridiculous to owe our admirer a thank you,” he adds after a poignant, uncomfortable silence. He was clearly feeling ignored, having trouble getting you to look at him longer than he liked you too. 

“You mean my admirer.” You correct a little too quickly for his liking. 

“I’m sorry?” He raises a brow, his expression matching the incredulous tone. 

“You were late to this dinner by more than an hour, nowhere to be found. Didn’t even send so much as a courtesy text, so you could’ve stood me up for all I’ve cared.” The words came out a little more vehemently that you meant them too, but if he noticed it would be news to you. “So she is my admirer” 

It doesn’t take anyone with half a brain cell to figure out what someone like John would react like when hearing that his “competition” was another woman. Someone as smug as he is, you can only brace yourself for the incredibly disgusting response you’ve received a million times before. 

“Oh, then I have nothing to worry about.” John waves his hand as if to shoo away some superfluous thing flying around, laughing easily. 

The very phrase itself makes you chortle loud enough to make him look at you weirdly again. Knowing that he was waiting for you to clarify yourself once more, you sigh and roll your eyes. 

“I’m bisexual, John.” 

“Oh!” he pipes up, eyes shining bright like he found some new toy to play with. Once again you feel your stomach roiling at the idea that was cooking up in his gelled up head. “So that means you--” 

“Yes.” 

“Would you be--” 

“Absolutely fucking not.” You snap immediately, cutting off whatever fuckery he was already forming up in his brain. 

Whether it was a request for a threesome or a request for you to not be…”obvious” (whatever the fuck that meant), you weren’t going to put up with it. You never had to, and you weren’t about to start tonight.  Especially not from another guy who couldn’t even keep dinner appointments the least bit interested in what he had to say. 

John doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything, jumping a little when you toss the cloth napkin a little too hard on the table. You didn’t give a fuck if it knocked anything over, you were sure he could afford it. He could complain about it to both of your mothers too, for all you fucking cared. 

Snatching your clutch bag, you give him a murderous glare before shoving the chair back and making your way to the ladie’s room to cool off. Under any other circumstance, maybe one where you didn’t have any semblance of sanity or taste in actual human beings, you might’ve entertained your mother’s idea of becoming someone’s trophy wife. 

You knew you’d get yelled at for ditching him with a mouth gaping like a fish struggling for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a fuck about it or him. 

It’s not like you’re against the idea of threesomes, or inexperienced with them by any stretch of the imagination. But you just didn’t like it when men did this shit to you, or when women declared you gay by virtue of being with them. You knew exactly who you were, and you weren’t ever going to entertain anyone’s bullshit.

You’re determined not to have your resolve whittle away when you see that you have to pass by the enticing burgundy haired stranger to get to the women’s bathroom. She’s probably not paying attention to you anymore, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your stomach any less floppy. 

You try to keep the knowing smirk at a minimum as you pass her by, squaring your shoulders and swaying your hips confidently as you pass her by, muttering a small “excuse me” to avoid bumping into another patron. You don’t see her green eyes following you, but you can sure feel them on your back. 

Even if you never spoke tonight, she’d supplied you with plenty to fantasize about later over more wine and a nice, hot bath. Cliché, yeah, but you couldn’t help it. 

Barreling into the surprisingly empty bathroom, you let the door slam in on itself as you let out a deep breath. You set your clutch down on the marbled countertop, turning the knob for the cold water to dip your hands into, and cool yourself--and the rage you were feeling, off. 

You wondered about the mysterious woman back at the bar, and how she seemed to be having a genuinely fun time with what seemed like the rest of her friends. You figured you could probably scrawl your number on one of the thick, fancy gold embossed napkins--maybe pass it off to a waiter to give to her if you wanted to be mysterious about it all. 

You’d make your way back home while it was all happening. Maybe start a nice warm bath that you were pondering earlier, with even more wine while spending some quality time with the plug and the vibrator; thinking about the woman that had already enraptured you so easily while you dragged out your own climax and pretending your fingers were here own, fantasizing about her voice. 

Blinking at your reflection in the massive and well lit mirror, you pondered at the kind of compliment the woman would tell you. But you let out a hum of disappointment, knowing that the interaction the two of you had back outside was just a one off thing, a fantasy never to actually be acted upon. 

You shrug, figuring you could at least take a decent selfie of yourself before making your way out the back. You adjust the imaginary wrinkles in your Dior dress, letting your hands linger on your waist for a moment before they travel up to your chest.Taking advantage of an empty bathroom, you shamelessly adjust your plush breasts. You let your palms linger, gently squeezing and caressing, once again wondering what it’d feel like to have her hands on your body instead of your own. 

The door suddenly swings open, startling you out of your intimate hype session. But you’re too surprised to even let go of your own breasts, your brain trying to decide on what to do or what excuse to come up with. 

Natasha’s sparkling hazel-green eyes hold your eye contact in the mirror, letting the door shut behind her. 

“Hi there.” She all but coos, voice as smoky and husky as the mezcal she had been drinking earlier. She hums in approval as she looks, her glossy lips curling into a smirk when her gaze travels from your face down to your breasts. You can’t help the way they harden beneath her stare, nor the heat and the slick blooming between your legs. 

She’s only said two words to you, and she already has you feeling a lustful weakness in her presence. 

You let out something of an embarrassed whine, your agape mouth snapping shut in shame. Natasha saunters over to you while keeping eye contact, reaching over to turn off the faucet that was still trickling. 

“I’m Natasha.” She says in lieu of a hello, resting her hip against the marble counter, angling her body towards your own as she tucked her hair behind her ear. 

Your breath hitches, hands slowly coming back down to your sides as you imagine running your fingers across the smooth skin of her neck. 

You swallow hard, almost struggling to say your own name. “Hi, Natasha.” 

Fuck, you wanted to absolutely melt beneath her with the way she was looking at you like you were her dinner. You’re certain that the lascivious enthusiasm in her eyes is something that must’ve come naturally to her. 

“Did you like the wine?” Natasha asks, as if she was asking a lover if they liked what she was doing to them in bed. She’s so close to you, standing just there, but she doesn’t do anything. She only looks, waiting for your next move. 

“You have fine taste.” You said, nervously wiping your palms on your dress. It takes you a second to catch onto the innuendo of your words, and you’re flushing all over when you realize what you said as Natasha bursts out a beautiful, melodic laugh. 

“I-I meant the wine…” You huff out, feeling quite embarrassed of your inability to keep a coherent sentence formed around someone attractive. 

You were never usually like this around people, especially men. But then again, you had been ensconced in work for so long to even bother going on a date for who knows how long. Natasha was the first woman you had been this close to in such a long time, you’d be surprised if you hadn’t turned into a puddle of mush already. 

Natasha licks her lips, and your eyes can’t help but focus on the burgundy colored gloss that left behind a nice stain. It looks just as inviting and tantalizing and sweet as the bottle of Bordeaux she had sent over to your table, that had now long been abandoned along with your tragically awful date. 

She catches on to you glancing at the clock above the door, because the next thing she asks you is how much time you’ve got left until you have to go back. She could tell you were trying to plan your escape, even if it meant walking out of the front door and pretending like you couldn’t see him at all. 

You swallow again as you feel your pulse quicken, angling your neck to rid yourself of the discomfort. You wondered if you could get Natasha to come home with you, or if you could get her to take you home with her. The low huskiness of Natasha’s voice and the sparkle of mischief in her eyes reel you in even more, and you knew then that you were a goner. 

“Honestly? I don’t give a fuck.” 

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly at your frankness for the first time that night. For a moment you wonder if you fucked up, if you came onto her too strong or too desperately. 

But you’re not left wondering about her intentions with you for much longer at all. 

It all happens too fast and too slow at the same time. In a single moment, your feet, ensconced in matching Dior heels, are still on the floor as Natasha backs you up further and further until your lower back is pressing into the edge of the counter.

Her soft, perfectly manicured hands roam your torso until she keeps one on your waist while the other one reaches up to softly cradle your jaw, thumb softly tracing your full lips--as if asking for your consent before she proceeds to do anything to you, with you. 

You release another whine, unable to hide the way you squeeze your thighs together to keep your slick from escaping the confines of your body and your underwear any more than you could help. Natasha keeps your eye contact, humming softly when she feels your lips kiss the pad of her thumb just so before wrapping your lips around it and taking it into your mouth a little, experimenting with how far you could go. 

As much as Natasha liked the feeling of your tongue around her fingers and how much it made her think what other parts of her could get your lips on and around, she was desperate to kiss you. She slots her lips across your own, hands cradling your head to kiss you more, deeper.

The kiss is all kinds of messy and desperate, hot breaths and moans and please 's and oh fuck 's escaping both of you as hips grind into each other. Your hands finally touch her, roaming everywhere to be able to feel everything, until they reach her chest, slightly smaller but no less plentiful. You knead them softly, thumbs running over her nipples, experimenting with just how much she liked, earning a shaky moan out of her that you swallow in the kiss. 

“Can I--” Her words are slightly shaky as you knead her breasts again, a little more firmly this time, as she rucks up the skirt of your dress. 

“I will literally cry if you don’t.” 

Natasha beams, “Oh. You’ll see.” As much as she loved the way you played with her breasts, she was eager to make you see stars now that she had your attention. 

“Up.” She commands, nearly making you come right there and then with the authoritative tone of her voice, “I want to see just how fine my taste is.” 

You’re able to steal one more kiss from Natasha before she growls, making you quickly place your hands on the counter for support as you hop up with some help from her. You let out a small squeal at the feel of the cool marble on your bare ass, giggling when you see her shake her head. 

Natasha gently quiets you with a small squeeze to your lush hips, nudging her nose with yours. 

“You trust me?” She asks, hands fiddling with the straps of your lacy thong, “Because I’ve got you.” 

You dig your teeth into your lips, nodding desperately. A shaky moan escapes you as she unzips your dress slightly so she can pull it down, revealing your bare chest to her. 

“Naughty girl.” She coos, eyeing the nipple piercings adorning your chest. A delicate, red gem adorning each end of the metal studs. Natasha bends down as she pulls the top of your dress down, practically unwrapping you like a gift, and takes a nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as if savoring a fine ice cream. 

You hiss at the arousal that sizzles through your body, nearly already lost in the heat of it all until you remember an important detail.

“W-wait, Natasha--” 

Natasha instantly stops, thinking she did something wrong. 

“The door..” You gasp out, “Someone will--” 

That predatory smile that had you melting returns to her face. “Maybe they will. I can lock it, if you want.” Natasha’s fingers dance across your waist, toying with the fabric of your dress as she pushes it further up slowly.

“But isn’t it more exciting, knowing that anyone, even that asshole date of yours, could walk in here while I’m eating you out, my tongue deep in your cunt?” 

Natasha’s words nearly have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pulse fluttering as much as your lashes. 

Eyes, and lips, meet again. Crashing messily and consuming each other with determination. Natasha searches every inch of your soft, lightly cocoa lotion scented skin. Her lips and teeth latch onto whatever part of you will make you shudder and melt underneath her touch. Your fingers hook themselves together behind her neck while she practically unwraps your dress from your body like a gift, letting it pool and gather around your waist. 

At this point, your outfit stops resembling a dress entirely--tucked up above the swell of your ass and completely exposing almost your whole body to her. The cool air of the bathroom pebbles your nipples, both of which Natasha plays with teasingly, mouth and hand switching breasts. The metal of your piercings amplifies the feeling electrifying your veins, making you eager for more with each lick and nip. 

“You’re not playing fair…” You whine, throwing your head back as your knuckles strain with your tightening hold of the counter’s edge. 

Natasha draws her lips away with a soft pop, kissing the swell of your breast, then your sternum until the ephemeral kisses reach right below your ear. “I’m not really one to follow the rules. But I like making an art out of breaking them.” 

“You’re also wearing too much.” You groan, pouting when Natasha tuts at your grabby hands. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, Китти.” She murmurs, loving how you wiggle underneath her touch as she slides the thong over your soft things and further down your legs until she can actually take them off and pocket them in her pants. Her hands are on your knees again, massaging them softly. “Spread your legs for me nice and wide, baby.” 

The praises were already doing you in, doing wonderful things to the arousal crackling like electricity throughout your body. Your stomach swoops and flutters when Natasha glides down to her knees without any hesitation, determined to make you see stars. 

You moan softly, head lolling to the side against the mirror, nibbling on your bottom lip  as you eagerly spread yourself open for her. 

“That’s it, honey.” She coos, rubbing your legs encouragingly before sliding your legs over her shoulders. Her warm breath on your center practically has you shuddering.

She makes a whole show of it: sucking and licking her fingers to lubricate them with enough spit. Both of you were sure you were pretty wet as it is, but Natasha enjoys making a whole thing of the pleasure she wants to give you. And you enjoyed the pretty show she was giving you. 

“Relax for me, bunny.” She says in between soft kisses on your inner thighs, “We’re both going to enjoy the hell out of this.” 

You whine even more when Natasha softly blows some air over your center, teasing you just over your slit by kissing you everywhere but directly where you want. She looks up at you, enjoying the way she watches you squirm, desperate for her to fuck you. 

“Please, ‘tasha…” You whine, “Want it, want you.” 

Natasha finally decides to indulge you, and herself. Holding on to your legs that were over her shoulders, she opens you a little wider and makes sure you’re not going anywhere before she digs in. Her tongue softly laps at your folds to spread the arousal. She hums at the taste of you, the sounds vibrating against you. 

Natasha is absolutely driving you insane with need, each soft kiss and lick stoking the fire hotter. She explores your cunt like she did the rest of you, tongue lapping at you from your hole to your clit until she pushes her face in, determined to make good on her promise to make you cry. 

When you feel her slide in a finger, then another in, you slap a hand against the marble counter, squealing when she begins to curl her fingers in the way she could tell you liked. Just like with your nipples, she takes your clit into her lips, softly rolling it with her tongue while her fingers play you like a game she’s played thousands of times before. 

Your hips start to squeeze her head, making Natasha hum loudly against your clit. The sensation gets you to start rolling your hips, wanting her fingers to go in as deep as they could. Natasha learns fast, loving the way you preen at the way she touches that spot that has you melting and your mouth dropping open. She slides in a third finger, and you moan at how full you feel. You let out the most embarrassing noises, sobbing at how very little effort it takes Natasha to get you to the precipice of your orgasm. Sagging breaths leave your lungs when you feel her fingers come to a still. 

“Shhh, baby, keep quiet for me.” She digs her free fingers into your thigh when you try to move and seek more pleasure. “You don’t want anyone checking in on us because of the noise and walking in, do you?” She moans when she feels your velvety walls clench around her fingers, letting her feel just how wet she was making you. “Oh, you like it when people watch,” —tsk-tsk— “naughty girl.” 

“Maybe next time we can get someone to join, huh? Would you like that, kitten? Have someone watch us while I ruin your pussy with a toy?” 

“I-I..Nat..” Your body starts to shake, hips meeting the thrusts of her fingers. You prop your leg up on her shoulder, keening at the groan she releases when she feels your heel dig into her slightly. “Please, I want it. I’m gonna--’mgonna cum soon. Fuck. I wanna cum so bad, please.” —”You wanna cum, baby? Wanna make a mess all over me?” — “Pleasepleaseplease.” — “That’s my girl, there you go. You’re doing so good for me, honey.” 

You thread your fingers through Natasha’s hair, tugging at her roots the more your orgasm builds and builds inside of you. You think you’re being too rough on her, but you’re proven wrong by the way Natasha groans at the pull of her hair in pleasure the more she eats you out like a woman starved. It makes her actions on you grow more enthusiastic than before. 

That familiar flutter in the pit of your belly comes alive again when Natasha keeps her fingers in you, rolling her tongue harder against your clit, curling her knuckles deeper in your weeping slit as the tips of her fingers toy with the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Fuck, that’s it…’m so close.” You moan, “s’little more…” 

A loud, sharp knock rattles the door and you gasp, sweaty body trembling as your shocking climax leaves you boneless and breathless. You groan loudly, feeling yourself make a mess all over the counter and on Natasha’s face. You bite your lip harshly to try and muffle the moans the best you can, even if it meant tasting copper on your tongue. 

Natasha is careful to slow down her movements, cooing to you about how good of a job you did making a mess all over her as you tremble and come down from your high. 

The voices from behind the door grow more desperate and instant. You start to scramble to get your dress back on you, but Natasha is already on it, helping you zip up. She pulls away after kissing your forehead to bark orders at the people behind the door, “Give us a damn minute! Dealing with some issues if you couldn’t tell!” 

Leaning into Natasha’s arms as she rubs your back while zipping up your dress, you chortle into her shoulder.

Natasha listens for a few more moments, making sure the footsteps faded away for sure before getting her attention back onto you. She hums softly, small smile on her lips when she sees the dopey, soft look on your face as you practically curl yourself into her embrace. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, cradling your face after tossing the napkin used to clean your smudged makeup into the bin. “You okay?”  

“Mm,” you purr, closing your eyes for a moment as you appreciate the feel of her caressing your face, “I just need a moment.” 

“Been a long time?” Natasha jokes, chuckling when she sees you nod bashfully. 

Despite regaining the feeling back in your legs, you’re feeling much too self indulgent to even think of forcing yourself out of Natasha’s arms. It wasn’t like she was forcing you to get off her either, so the both of you indulge yourselves in a close embrace, soft coos and whispers in between short kisses and giggles.

You can’t help yourself but shiver at the way Natasha licks the remainder of your climax from the corner of her lips, so you try to regain some composure by holding her hand after hopping down from the counter. 

“When can I return the favor?” You ask her, glancing at yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked the most presentable as you could. 

“Is this your way of trying to get my number?” She teases, squeezing your hand before cleaning up herself. 

Your cheeks heat up again, using your tongue to soothe your swollen lips. “I was actually hoping you’d wanna come home to mine, or uh..me to yours. Whatever works.” 

One step, then another, and Natasha is in front of you again. There’s something about the way she towers over you despite being almost the same height as her that has you feeling small, protected by her enough to be able to let your guard down. 

“I like it when you’re bold.” She says in a hushed tone, holding your chin with her thumb and forefinger. Natasha’s always been used to the women that are much too shy for her own liking. She can see that you're someone to be discovered.

“Not as bold as fucking someone else’s date on the bathroom counter.” Already, you were thinking about taking her thumb into your mouth again. 

“Touché. But you’re going to break that guy’s heart, you leaving with me.” 

You roll your eyes, “It was an arranged date. We only met an hour ago.” 

“So did we.” 

“So what if we did?” You ask, holding her wrist as she cradles your jaw, kissing the pad of her thumb softly. “You ditched your friends too.” 

“That I did.” She conceded. 

“Then, I’d like to find out what you’d be like on a proper date, Natasha.” You say, before sticking close to her as you two weasel your way out of the restaurant. 

“I think I’d like to find out too, моя любовь.” She agrees, arm around you as she unashamedly rests her hand on your butt.