professional kate bishop kisser

“Vi!” Your snap knocks Vi out of her perving daze and she forced her gaze back up, meeting your eyes. “Are you even listening to me right now!?”

“No,” Vi mumbles. At least she’s honest.

You open your mouth to retort, to call Vi out for being an asshole, but some of the fire dies out of you as Vi takes a step closer, her gaze now intensely holding yours.

“You could keep scolding me,” Vi rasps. “Or we could just fuck.”

Your heart beats rapidly against your ribcage. There’s so much you haven’t gotten the chance to say yet. You’d been prepared to lay into Vi, to really let her have it, but as she takes another step closer, arms reaching out to hold your waist, none of the things you rehearsed wanna come to mind. God, she was insufferable. But hell if you couldn’t get enough of her.

Vi must see the direction your thoughts are going because she closes the remaining distance, calloused fingers brushing the silk of your nightwear as she pulls you in, crushing her lips against yours. You gasp into it, struggling to get your bearings at first. She tastes like weed and cheap beer, but you wouldn’t be able to stand it if she pulled away right now.

Vi backs you against the nearest wall with a thud that rattles the picture frames. One hand fists into your hair whilst the other grips your hip to hold you up, hard enough to leave marks for tomorrow.

Finally, she breaks the kiss just long enough to mutter against your kiss-swollen lips, “Still mad at me?”

You glare up at Vi, your chest rising fast, but not just from anger anymore. The heat in Vi’s touch coupled with the fiery way she kissed you completely unraveled your need to scold her.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice sharp and defiant, but then you immediately gave yourself away by arching into Vi’s kiss when your mouths met again.

Vi growls low in her throat, biting gently at your bottom lip before dragging wet kisses down your jaw, along that sensitive spot right beneath your ear. Her hands were everywhere: sliding under fabric to feel bare skin, squeezing your thighs through the thin silk.

Your fingers tangle in Vi’s black hair as you pull her back in for another kiss, and that does it. With a low groan, Vi lifts you clean off the ground like you weighed nothing. One arm hooks under your thighs and the other cradles your back as she carries you back toward your shared bedroom.

Vi kicks the bedroom door shut behind the two of you and drops you gently onto the bed, her eyes dark with want. She kicks her boots off and peels off her leather jacket. Then came the tank top, ripped over her head in a haste. You watch her—the broad shoulders, the corded arms marked with scars and fresh bruises. Every now and then, it hits you that Vi is yours. Vi, a woman who seemed wildly out of your league, but who could never get enough of you.

As Vi crawls over you, you reach out to trace a finger over her split lip, more than likely earned in tonight’s brawl. Vi catches your hand, kissing each fingertip. Then she drops your hand again to focus on getting you out of your nightie.

You shiver as the cool air hit newly bared skin. The nightie slipped off one shoulder, then the other, and Vi froze for a heartbeat, just looking at you. The moonlight shone through the window across your body, soft curves glowing in the silver light. Vi tugs the nightie down over your thighs and you can’t help laughing at her haste. But that laughter dies in your throat when Vi kneels between your legs.

She presses a kiss right above your knee, then another and another. Each one lingered like an apology she couldn’t say out loud yet. You exhale sharply when Vi reaches the hem of those delicate silk panties—the same beautiful shade of lavender as your nightie—and kisses your center right through the fabric.

You’re prepared to squirm for more, but then Vi is hooking two fingers into the waistband and tugging your underwear down slowly, watching your face for every flicker of a reaction. The flush creeping up your neck, the parted lips. God, she loved you so damn much it hurt sometimes.

Vi kisses up your bare thigh again, savoring the heat building beneath her lips. When she finally reaches the sweet spot, the center of all the tension, she paused just long enough to glance up at you through thick lashes. A silent question—can I?

You bite your lip and nod, and that’s all Vi needs.

She leans in and presses her mouth to your center—hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses like she’s been starving for it. Because she had. Even after fights where the crowd screamed her name, even when adrenaline pumped in her veins, nothing ever felt as right or made her feel more like a champion than this.

Her hands grip your hips to hold them steady, to keep you from squirming as she explored with slow licks and teasing nips. Each move is calculated to make you arch off the bed with a gasp or a whimper, and that’s exactly what it does. When that first shaky moan leaves your lips, it makes Vi smile against your warm flesh.

She redoubles her efforts, tongue swirling in slow circles before diving deeper. One hand scissors your folds while the other crept upward beneath your back, pulling your body all that much closer. You gasp before tangling both hands in Vi’s hair, holding on like you might float away if you let go.

Vi loved it, the way you tremble under her touch, the little hitches in your breath when something felt just right. She memorized every reaction, memorized which spots made you jolt the most and how hard to press for that perfect whine. And then? Then came that telltale tightening of your thighs around Vi’s head. The first sign that you were close.

She doesn’t slow down. Her mouth works faster now while her thumb brushes gently over your clit over and over to amplify the sensation. Your breath hitches sharply, fingers twisting tighter in Vi’s hair. Your hips lift as if they’ve got a mind of their own, rocking greedily against Vi’s mouth, chasing more of her, more of this perfect pressure. And then a choked cry escapes you as you come undone beneath your girlfriend’s touch.

Vi felt the tremors in your body as she worked you through the aftershocks. Her lips were soft now, sweet against your over sensitive skin. Gentle kisses followed by slow licks to savor every lingering pulse of pleasure still humming through your core. She let the rhythm ease into something tender, gentle petting with her lips and small nuzzles that said I’ve got you without words.

You’re breathing hard beneath Vi, a mess of tangled hair and flushed cheeks, and it made Vi feel stupidly proud and impossibly fond.

Finally, Vi pulls away, lips glistening and says, “I’m not nearly done with you, baby,” Then before you could reply (not that you could find your voice right now anyway), Vi leans over you, caging you in her arms and claims your lips in a deep kiss. It wasn’t gentle by any means, instead, it was bruising. A messy slide of mouths where you could taste yourself on Vi’s tongue. You’ve never melted before, but you imagined it felt a lot like this—sinking further, boneless on your mattress while your hot butch girlfriend attacked your lips with her own.

And just when you were about to fall completely under, Vi whispers, “Wait here,” against your lips before using her arms to push herself off the bed. You watch as she sheds her boxers with one hand and grabs her strap with the other in two smooth steps.

She fastens the strap around strong thighs, smiling down at the look of pure awe on her face. “Lube or no lube tonight, baby?”

“Lube, please,” you manage.

Vi nods and concedes, grabbing lube from the middle drawer of the night stand and slathering an appropriate amount around the tip. And your breath catches, because for some reason, you could never get used to it. You could never get used to the sight of Vi standing there in just the harness, her toned body on full display under soft light. It sends a fresh wave of heat straight through you.

“Want you on top, baby,” Vi says, holding her palm out, an invitation wrapped in that low, commanding tone you couldn’t resist.

You take Vi’s hand and let yourself be pulled into a sitting position before swinging one leg over her. Now straddling Vi’s lap, the harness cool against bare thighs, you higher there for a second, studying her face: those sharp cheekbones flushed with arousal, dark eyes full of want, but still tender at their core. You initiate the kiss this time, kissing Vi deeply and melting into the contact like you had all night, and thank god you did.

Vi’s hands grip your hips and lift you just enough before guiding you back down onto the strap. A quiet groan rumbles from her chest as she feels you sink over it, warmth and pressure in perfect sync. She tilts her head back against the pillows for a second, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

When Vi opens them again, she’s hyperfocused as she starts moving, small upward rolls of her body to meet each descent of your hips above her. Her thumbs brush the sensitive skin near your waistline, a contrast to the firm hold elsewhere as if reminding herself: this is mine, while worshipping every inch at once.

Your combined breathless moans and gasps fill the room as you move together. Vi keeps her hands locked on your hips, helping guide the pace. Your head tips back as you try and fail to conceal a louder moan and Vi loves that sound. Knows it means she’s doing something right. She leans up, capturing one peaked nipple with her mouth, a wet kiss turned bite, and feels you shiver above her.

“Fuck, Vi!” You swear, eyes rolling back.

Vi works both your breasts with equal devotion, one under her mouth and the other squeezes gently in her rough but careful hand. The contrast was electric: cool air against wet skin where she’d kissed and bitten; warm pressure from Vi’s palm rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger. She alternates—lips on one side, fingers teasing the other—never letting either go unattended for long.

Each hum she makes vibrated through your chest directly into that sensitive peak still pressed to Vi's lips…sending little shockwaves of pleasure straight down your spine. And you whimper above her—a broken sound—and instinctively grind down harder onto the strap, chasing more friction. Your thighs tremble around Vi’s waist; breath coming faster now in short, needy bursts.

“You like that, sweets?” Vi murmurs against your breast. “Do I make you so fucking wet?” Her voice drips with honey and sin all at once.

She nips gently at your breast when you don’t respond, lifting her head just enough to look up at you through her lashes, the picture of wicked charm.

“Answer me,” she murmurs, thumb brushing over the peaked nipple again while her other hand slides down your side to rest possessively on your hip. The strap beneath you is slick now with your own arousal.

“Yes…yes!” you gasp. “I…I’m close again, Vi, please,”

Vi’s pulse spikes at your plea, the single word unraveling the last thread of her restraint. She kisses up your chest, over your collarbone, along that delicate throat—leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and soft bites until she reached those parted lips. Then she crashes your mouths together again while rolling her hips up in time with each thrust down from above. Now, it was go. Harder. Faster. Deeper friction exactly where you both needed it most.

It all happened in the blink of an eye: one minute, you’re is teetering precariously on the edge of ecstasy, and the next, white-hot, blinding pleasure crashes over you.

The moment you shattered, Vi felt it like a lightning strike, your entire body tensing above her, a sharp cry tearing from your throat that echoes through the quiet room.

Vi holds on tight—arms locking around your shaking form as wave after wave of pleasure wracks through you. She could feel every spasm; the way your thighs clenched involuntarily around Vi's hips; how you buried her face in Vi's neck to muffle whimpers; even the hot tears that dampened the junction of Vi’s shoulder from sheer overwhelming sensation.

And still, Vi kept moving, kept grinding, gentle now to ride out every pulse until finally…you went limp and boneless against her chest. Vi guides you down onto your side, not bothering to pull out yet. Just wraps her arms around you and kisses your temple. “You were perfect,” she says.

She presses soft kisses to your temple. Once, twice, then another at the corner of your eye where tear tracks may have gathered from your earlier overstimulation. A couple minutes of silence go by. It’s so comforting that you nearly drift off until you hear Vi speak. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know I promised you I’d be back earlier and then I wasn’t. You had every reason to be pissed off at me. I know I need to get my shit together.”

“I know I messed up,” she goes on, fingers tracing miscellaneous patterns on your arm. “Being late, coming home drunk, disregarding your feelings. You mean everything to me and I never want to take that for granted,”

You sigh into Vi’s neck. “All I want is to spend time with you,”

“I’ll do better,” Vi says. “I swear on my life,” she then squeezes you closer, brushing another kiss against your temple before carefully pulling away, climbing out of bed to discard her strap while you watch sleepily from the bed.

Vi climbs back into bed a second later, smiling at the way you’re struggling against your heavy lids. “Wore you out, huh?” She chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Go ahead and sleep, baby. I’ll be right here.”

You lift your hand to her cheek and her breath hitches just for a moment before she leans into your touch. Soft wind blows around you, amplifying Wanda’s addicting cherry blossom scent. Wanda looks up at you through her lashes and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

You press your other hand to Wanda’s other cheek, wanting to frame her face in your hands. But suddenly, your sense of touch has grown weaker and she doesn’t feel real.

Tears prick your eyes and the wetness of Wanda’s eyes mirror yours.

“Wanda…” you manage around the thickness of your throat. “Why can’t I…why can’t I feel you?”

Wanda shakes her head and a single tear slips down her left cheek, gleaming in the setting sunlight. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Sorry? For what? Why—“ but you cut off as the field begins to dissolve around you. Colors blur. The sky melts. Wanda’s eyes flash red and then everything goes dark.

And then, you wake up. Bolt awake is more like it as you sit up quickly in your bed, gasping for breath. The room comes into focus slowly. Morning light spills through your blinds. Your heart is still pounding against your ribs. For several seconds, you just stare into the middle distance, trying to get your breath back to normal.

You try to shake off the remnants of your last dream, but the waking world isn’t much better. Your bedroom feels charged, staticky, like the air before an impending thunderstorm. A faint prickling sensation still dances across your skin.

You rub a hand down your face and groan. Another incredibly vivid dream to add to the tally. Since your breakup with the other woman three months prior, it seemed to be the only thing you were dreaming about, and to say it was driving you crazy would be an understatement.

They’ve become impossible to ignore, the dreams. Sometimes, they’re simple: you and Wanda merely standing across from one another, a silent standoff. Other nights, they’re far worse. Wanda crying, collapsing into your arms, begging you not to leave her, begging you to forgive her. Dreams so vivid that they leave you emotionally exhausted for your entire day.

You sigh heavily. Your apartment was quiet except for the ticking of the analog clock on your wall. You hated that silence. It was times like these that you wish you’d insisted on Glitch staying with you. Glitch was the calico that you and Wanda had adopted together soon after your one-year anniversary. Glitch had immediately stood out to you because of his heterochromia—one gray eye and one brown eye.

Wanda has sort of gotten custody of Glitch in the breakup. You figured it was for the best since you were actually just the slightest bit allergic to the little guy. But man, what you wouldn’t give for Glitch’s company right about now.

Dragging yourself from your bed, you pad down the hallway toward your kitchen, your stomach growling the entire way. The moment you open your refrigerator, you groan. There wasn’t much in the way of sustenance aside from half a carton of milk and one container of meatballs that have probably since gone bad. Fantastic.

The pantry isn’t much better: a single pack of ramen and what’s left of a family size bag of tortilla chips (that might’ve been your salty snack of choice when your breakup was fresh). You stare at your shelves, then at your reflection in the microwave, and once again back at your shelves. You hadn’t intended to leave the house today, but a grocery errand would need to be made soon unless you wanted to starve. With a sigh, you head back to your room to grab your keys.

***

The grocery store is packed, which you suppose you should’ve anticipated for a Saturday morning. You maneuver your cart through the store, avoiding the cereal aisle altogether where three young children are wreaking havoc with their parents or guardians nowhere insight. You remember just how much you hate grocery shopping, and grocery stores in general. And with a pang, you realize that Wanda used to do the shopping. Not because she had to, but because she genuinely liked it, and she knew you dreaded it.

You remember the detailed lists she used to make, the snacks and foods that she knew to be your favorites always at the top of the list. You shove the thought away and head toward the pasta aisle. But then, you freeze, your heart stuttering painfully in your chest. There, standing halfway down the aisle, was the very woman who’d been haunting all your dreams. Wanda.

For one terrifying second, you think you must be dreaming again. As if sensing your stare, Wanda looks up, and her gaze zeroes on you. That look. The same one she’d given you in last night’s dream. You swallow hard, your pulse roaring in your ears. You have every inclination of ditching your cart altogether and making a break for it. But you can’t move your feet.

You see Wanda’s lips part, as if maybe she wants to say something. But then, a man pushes a shopping cart between you. The interruption lasts maybe two seconds, three at most. But after he passes, Wanda is gone.

You blink, turning a full 360, glimpsing your surroundings for any sign of the auburn-haired woman. But there’s no sign of her. Just more strangers everywhere you look.

A small, disbelieving laugh escapes you. “Okay,” you say to yourself. “So, there is a very real possibility that I’m losing my fucking mind,” Maybe dreaming about your ex-girlfriend every night has officially broken your brain. Maybe you’d just seen Wanda in a random woman, and from her perspective, you were just some creep in Hello Kitty pajama pants staring her down and freaking her out. That would explain how quickly she disappeared. She’d probably never feel safe shopping here again, and it would be your fault. Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t stop your hands from trembling for the rest of your shopping trip.

By evening, you’re no closer to convincing yourself that you imagined it, so instead, you’ve switched tactics, which is to say doing anything you can to push the weirdness of the day out of your mind. You finally clean your apartment, which includes scrubbing the baseboards. (Here, you hear Wanda’s voice in your head saying, “You know your house is clean if even the baseboards are spotless,”). You make yourself a home-cooked meal so you wouldn’t fall on your crutch of ordering in. And finally, you put on a movie.

Finding a movie to watch isn’t easy, though. You’re in the mood for a comfort movie, but it’s hard to find one that you haven’t also watched with Wanda. So you finally settle on a silly buddy-cop movie that will be easy to turn your mind off to. Eventually, exhaustion wins, and the film becomes background noise as your eyes drift shut.

~

You’re at home. Not in your current apartment, but your old one. The one you shared with Wanda. The realization hits immediately. The walls, the furniture, the photographs, everything is exactly as it used to be. Except the apartment is a mess. Books litter the floor, cabinets hang open, blankets spill from the couch. Red motes of magic drift through the air.

You startle as you feel something brush up against your legs, and you look down to find Glitch staring up at you with one gray eye and one brown eye. He meows at you.

“Hey guy,” you say, reaching down to brush the knuckle of your index finger against his tiny, furry head. Glitch purrs, leaning into the touch. It’s only for a few seconds though and then he dashes away as if he’d just spotted a mouse or a bird.

You watch Glitch go, but then a voice comes back to you in reverb. Wanda’s voice saying your name, “Y/n…”

Your stomach twists. “Wanda?” You call. No answer.

You move deeper into the apartment, feeling the magic dust thickening around you. There’s a familiar hum in your ears, Wanda’s voice again, you know, but now you can’t make out what she’s saying.

And then, you find her. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed the two of you used to share, her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly together. Your heart breaks for her immediately because she looks so vulnerable like that. Like someone who’s been carrying the weight of the world for too long. Probably just as emotionally spent as you’ve been feeling for weeks on end.

“Wanda?”

Slowly, she lifts her head. Her eyes find yours, and the relief on her face is immediate. “Hi,” she says.

You swallow. “…Hi,” You don’t know why tears are suddenly burning behind your eyes. Maybe because this is the most real, the most lucid that these dreams have ever felt. Maybe because you’ve just missed her. Maybe because you still love her and you know you’ve never stopped.

“I saw you today,” Wanda says quietly.

You blink at her.

“In the grocery store,” Wanda explains.

Your breath catches. “So, that was you,”

A shaky laugh escapes her. “I thought maybe I’d imagined you,”

The admission pulls a reluctant smile from you. “Funny. I thought the same thing, actually,”

Wanda smiles back, but it wanes just as fast. Neither of you look away.

“I miss you,” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

Wanda’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “I miss you too,” her voice cracks halfway through her sentence. The sound nearly destroys you.

Wanda stands slowly, crosses the room, and stops directly in front of you. Close enough to touch. Her hands reach up to frame your face, mirroring your actions from last night’s dream. Your breath catches and you lean into the touch, placing your hands over hers. You close your eyes as your forehead presses gently against hers.

Wanda’s thumb strokes your cheekbone, and then she pulls back, far before you’re ready for her to. “Wake up,” she says softly.

“Wanda—“

“Shhh,” she squeezes your hand. “Wake up. I’ll see you soon,”

~

Your eyes snap open and you bolt upright on the couch, heart racing. On the TV, the ending credits for the movie you’d put on roll across a black screen. You stare at the credits, trying to process what just happened. You weren’t sure how you didn’t put the prices together before, but now you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that wasn’t just a normal dream. And the hundreds you’d had before weren’t normal either. Wanda had infiltrated your dreams. She’d been trying to talk to you, trying to find you.

You exhale heavily and rise from the couch, and despite the late hour, you needed to go for a jog. You needed to think.

The air outside is cool, perfect jogging whether. You typically liked your jogs during daylight hours, but this would have to suffice. You needed literally anything wise from your own thoughts. Halfway through your run, your phone rings. You fish it out of your pocket, taking note of Natasha’s contact name.

You slow to a stop and accept Natasha’s call. “Hi,” you greet her, slightly winded from the run.

“How bad is it?” Natasha asks by way of a greeting.

You blink. “Huh? How bad is what?”

“The breakup.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Nat, please don’t—“

“You deflecting tells me everything I need to know.”

“Why are you even asking, Nat?” you huff, defensive.

“Wanda talked to me.”

You shed your defenses immediately like a chrysalis. Of course Wanda spoke to her, you didn’t blame her. Natasha had somehow become the unofficial mediator for every relationship within the Avengers.

When you don’t reply immediately, Natasha goes on to say, “She’s hanging on by a thread, y/n,”

Your chest tightens. But of course, you didn’t need to be told this. Wanda manipulating all your dreams was proof enough of that.

“I’m guessing you’re not doing much better, no offense,” Natasha says.

“Well, that’s offensive,” you huff. “What would you say if I said the opposite? If I said that I’m actually doing okay right now?”

“Then I’d strongly advise you not to bullshit me because you know I have a low tolerance for it.” Natasha counters.

You let out a dry chuckle. “Right.”

“Look, I know you’re a grown adult and I don’t run your life. But I’m also your friend and I don’t want you to suffer, so…just consider it, alright?” Natasha says.

You feel that telltale prickle in the back of your eyes. God, you were so sick of crying. “Okay,” you sigh. “Okay, yeah, I will,”

The call ends and you continue jogging, but if you think there’s any hope of clearing your mind now, you’re sorely mistaken.

The last thing you’re expecting to find when you return from your jog is someone standing outside your apartment door. You slow immediately, on edge. The figure turns, and startles at the sight of you, and suddenly your heart is trying to escape your chest. “Wanda?”

Wanda looks equally shocked. You approach carefully. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s okay, I just…thought you were inside. I just rang the doorbell,” Wanda says, her words coming out a little breathless.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, though you think it’s fair to say that’s a dumb question.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Wanda replies. “Can we? Please? I’ll even be quick,”

You smile and step past Wanda to unlock your door. “Of course. Come on in,”

Several minutes later, you’re sitting on opposite ends of your couch. The irony isn’t lost on either of you. There was a time when sitting this far apart would’ve been blasphemy. Wanda was a snuggler, and so were you.

Wanda fidgets with her hands. “I did want to see you, but first, I wanted to apologize for…the dreams. I’m sure you’ve picked up on the fact that—“

“You’ve been causing them,” you fill in the blanks.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathes. She looks up, meeting your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure it freaked you out. At first, I was just trying to cope. I told myself I’d only do it once, just once to make sure you were okay. But then…I sort of got addicted. I wanted to see you and I couldn’t stop.”

The confession hangs between you. Wanda studied your face, her shoulders hun he’d like she’s waiting for you to yell, to throw her out, to say how violated you felt. But the truth was that you weren’t surprised. You’d already figured it out. It would be hard not to know after that last dream you had. But moreover, you weren’t mad. You were honestly sort of relieved. Shaken, but relieved.

“It’s okay,” you say finally.

“You’re really not mad?” The question comes out so small. So uncertain.

You shake your head, a small huff escaping you. “How could I be?” you say, searching Wanda’s face too. “Knowing that you missed me just as damn much as I missed you,”

Tears immediately gather in Wanda’s eyes and in a flash, you closed the distance, scooting closer until your thigh brushed hers. You reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear.

“You don’t hate me?” She asks, her voice catching.

“God Wanda, no,” you reply, your own voice catching now. “I could never hate you,”

Wanda sniffles as tears begin to chase each other down her cheeks. “I could never hate you either,”

Your chest aches because of course she couldn’t. If either of you hated the other, moving on would’ve been easy. Instead, you spent months loving each other from separate apartments, separate beds, separate lives. Both remaining miserable the entire time.

A watery laugh escapes Wanda and she finally lets her head drop on your shoulder. Your wrap your arms around her, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head.

“Can we try again?” Wanda asks. The question is barely audible.

You don’t answer immediately, but you know what you’ll say. You’ve known for months what you’d say if faced with this decision.

You take Wanda’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing your joined hands to your lips to kiss her knuckles. “Only if we’re both honest this time,”

She nods quickly. “Always.”

“And we actually lean on each other,” you add. “No more suffering in silence,”

“No more,” Wanda parrots.

You smile at her. “In that case, I’d love to,”

“Uh…” you swallow hard. “…home.”

“Home?” Vi snorts before reaching for the bedside table and flicking on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. She runs slender fingers through her reddish hair and fixes you with a tired gaze. “C’mon, sunshine, it’s like the middle of the night,” she pats the empty side of her bed.

“It’s 8:30, Vi,” you can’t help your soft giggle. “You just think it’s nighttime still because your room is so dark,”

“Alright, smartass, 8:30 then,” Vi moves to lie on her side. “Now that we both know we can tell time, can you bring your cute ass back to bed?”

You stare at Vi, biting your lip. She’s nothing short of tantalizing—long, shaggy hair falling down her back, muscles on full display and torso shamelessly bare whilst the duvet pools around her lower half. It’s all you can do to hold back from climbing back into bed with her and letting her make you see stars all over again. But that’s the very reason you need to get the hell out of here. Because Vi was too tempting.

“Vi, I just have to go, okay?” you say, deflecting Vi’s gaze as you pick yesterday’s jeans up off the floor.

"But why, though?" Vi whines as she pushes herself into a seated position. She hits you with a theatrical pout, her arms crossed over her chest. "I don’t understand why you can’t just come back to bed."

"You know why I can't,"

"Why can't you?"

"Because I shouldn't have even come here to begin with," you gripe, stepping into your jeans. "You know that."

Vi sighs heavily, frustration creeping into her voice. "Then why did you?" She asks as she watches you get dressed. "You say you shouldn't be here, but you always end up in my bed again and again.”

You hesitate, not having an immediate answer to that. "I don't know...maybe 'cause I like you??"

Vi watches your face. "You kind of have a weird way of showing it, Sunshine,"

"Can you blame me? You know you have a track record, Vi," you fidget with your hands.

Vi bristles at the mention. She knew what people said about her, what they thought about her. And yes, she'd been known to play into the role from time to time. But...there wasn't a moment that she spent with you that felt like that. Not a second of it felt inauthentic. She might even go as far as to say you were her first genuine crush in…forever. That is, if she was known to get mushy like that. Which she wasn’t.

"Well...you're one to talk," Vi finally conjures up a response. "You know you're not exactly brave for always running off like this,"

"Because I know if I don't, it'll just hurt more when you don't call me tomorrow," you snap.

Ouch.

Vi falls silent, knowing you hit the nail on the head. Knowing that she was the type to hook up with someone and then move on when the thrill faded. But she hasn't wanted to do that with you. In fact, she hasn't hooked up with anyone else since you. Hadn’t been able to stomach the thought. But she doubted you’d believe it if she told you that.

"That's not...it wouldn't..." Vi is uncharacteristically flustered, struggling to come up with a comeback.

"It would. You've done it before. That's why my friends don't trust you. Why I know I shouldn't trust you. But then, you come back around and you say the sweetest things and you...do that thing with your tongue..." your cheeks heat up and you avert your gaze again. "...and I fall into the booby trap all over again. No pun intended."

Vi watches your cheeks flush, and despite everything, she feels like her ego was being stroked. Even though she knows she shouldn't, she can't help but tease you just a bit. "You like the thing I do with my tongue, huh?"

You feel your tummy flutter pitifully at the question. "Obviously,"

Vi's smirk widens at your mumbled admission. She leans back on her elbows again, her gaze locked on you, enjoying the reaction she's pulling from you. "Well, come here, then," she pats your spot on her bed again. "I can show you a few more tongue tricks if you want,"

"God, you're not even listening to me right now, are you?" you scoff.

"I am listening. I heard every word you said, okay?" Vi retorts. "You're worried I'm going to drop you, ghost you just like I've done with...admittedly, a lot of other girls. But newsflash, baby—you're not just another girl to me. I've told you that about a million times already, but you never let it stick."

"And have you ever noticed that you always say stuff like that before we have sex, not after? So how am I ever supposed to believe it?"

Now, it’s Vi’s turn to be temporarily speechless. She immediately rolls back through every single hookup, every single time she was lucky enough to have you in her apartment, in her bed. She would say the sweetest things to get your heart racing, to get you comfortable. She thought it then to be just foreplay. Just build up. Never once getting it through her thick skull what that would mean to you.

She falters, her earlier nagging annoyance fading quickly, replaced with a pang of guilt. "I...it wasn't supposed to come off that way. I meant every word, I just..." she rakes a hand through her messy hair, letting out a deep sigh.

"I really like you, Vi," you say. "Probably more than I should, but...if this is just fun to you—“

"It's not!" Vi's reply comes out as a snap, but she softens her tone as she continues. "Damnit, Sunshine, you know I'm not good at this, but...you've gotta know how into you I am. You've never been just some girl to me. You're stubborn and feisty and unbelievably sexy, and you don't let me get away with my bullshit, and I...I like you. Fuck, Sunshine, I like you so much."

You exhale softly. "That’s really how you feel?"

"God, yes," Vi declares. "I know I have a shitty track record, okay? I know I'm not the most reliable, and I'm rough around the edges, and I'm probably all the things your friends say about me. But all I ask for is a chance. Let me show you that this can be different, that it is different, and I'll do anything to prevent losing you."

You take a tentative step toward the bed, then another. Vi watches your movement closely, and when she realizes what's happening, she ushers you closer with a gentle curl of her index finger. "C'mere, baby," she coaxes. "It's just me,"

You swallow hard, moving even closer, and once you're right at the bed's edge, Vi's hands move to your waist and gently guide you down onto the mattress. It doesn't take much for you to melt into her, letting her tug you into her lap. She buries her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent. Her hands begin to wander, tracing slow, comforting circles on your back.

"You're still so tense, I can tell," Vi whispers gently against your skin.

"I just...I don't want my friends to be right about you, Vi. Please don't let them be right," you plead.

"Your friends don't know me like you do," Vi murmurs, her lips grazing over your shoulder. "They only see what's on the surface. They don't see...this." She runs her fingers through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. You practically purr at the touch.

"...Or this..." her lips run along your jawline and then down your neck. She's hunting for the sweet spot, and it's not long until she finds it, nipping at the skin just below your ear. The soft whimper you let out is immediate.

"Let me prove them wrong, Sunshine," Vi says. "Let me prove to you that you're beautiful and special and mine,"

You sigh, letting your head fall back. Vi hums against your skin. Her hands go to your jeans—unbuttoned because you hadn’t fastened them yet—and slip inside.

“You’re so soft,” Vi whispers, her fingers tracing gently over your abdomen. Her mouth begins to move down, pressing another trail of kisses along your jawline.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and rough as she nibbles at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You moan softly and Vi smirks at the sound. “That’s it. You’re getting excited for me, aren’t you?” Her fingers move beneath your shirt, tracing the curves of your rib cage as she kisses a path along your collarbone. She nips and sucks at the sensitive skin there, wanting to taste every inch of you. One of her hands sneaks to the clasp of your bra, toying with it.

“You like that?” She has the nerve to ask.

“Yeah…” you breathe.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Vi replies, a hint of smugness in her voice. She captures your ear lobe between her teeth for a moment, giving it a gentle bite before moving downward to your collar. “You’re making it really hard to not take you right here and now, you know,”

“So then, what are you waiting for?” You challenge, chest heaving and heart racing. “Take me,”

“You sure about that, Sunshine?” Vi husks, her body already pressing closer, already subtly grinding against you and letting her neediness show. “Because once I start, I don’t think I could stop,”

“I wouldn’t tell you to,” you whisper in Vi’s ear, your hands trailing down the other girl’s defined muscles.

That’s all Vi needs to hear. “You’ll be the death of me,” she breathes. And then, she’s pushing you back into the mattress, pinning you down, her expression a combination of need and lust.

Every time before where Vi’s made you needy pails in comparison to how you feel now as you lift your hips so she can help you out of those pesky jeans a second time.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” Vi muses once you’re lying mostly bare for her again.

You look up at Vi, smitten. And you have just enough time to breathe her name before she’s kissing you hard, working the kisses down your neck and chest. She sucks at the delicate skin, leaving marks where she sees fit.

“You taste so good,” she says when she reaches your stomach, her tongue darting out to tease your navel. “I could devour you whole.”

You gasp, hips bucking. “Fuck! That’s the tongue thing I was talking about!”

A low chuckle rumbles in Vi’s chest. “So, you like it when I use it like this, huh?” She sucks at the skin just above the waistband of your panties, her tongue tracing a slow, languid path. “…like it when I taste you?”

“…yes, yes, yes!” you moan.

Vi grins against your heated skin, her fingers hooking into the elastic of your panties. “Say it again. Tell me how much you like it.” She starts to drag the underwear down your hips at an agonizing pace, watching every single expression pass across your face. “Say my name, baby. Tell me what you want right now.”

“Vi, oh Vi…” you feel your back arch even though Vi’s barely starting touching you. “Please…taste me…”

Vi pushes herself down, burying her face between your thighs, inhaling the heady, tantalizing scent of your arousal. “Like this…?” she murmurs, her tongue darting out for a taste. “You want me to taste you, baby? Want me to make you squirm? Want to call out my name?”

You can’t answer any of Vi’s questions. Not when Vi’s face is between your legs, her tongue sliding in and out of you at dizzying intervals.

The sight of you lost in the pleasure she’s giving you, is all the answer Vi needs. It drives her wild, makes her want to take you higher and higher. Her tongue moves faster, harder, tasting and teasing and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your eyes begin to roll as you rock your hips against Vi’s mouth, moaning her name in the process. You’ve reached the point where you’re grabbing onto everything within reach—Vi’s hair, Vi’s arms, the bedsheets beside you—desperately trying to anchor yourself to the present moment.

And then, Vi was flicking her tongue just right against your clit, and you’re done for. Body shuddering and fireworks bursting in your brain, you’re wracked with the most intense release you’ve ever felt. And Vi doesn’t relent immediately, eating until she felt every spasm and shudder cede your body.

“That’s it,” Vi gasps, coming up for air with a ragged breath. “You’re so good for me, Sunshine, you’re a fucking vision,”

She lets you catch your breath, her hand tracing lazy circles on your hip. She studies your face, the flush of pleasure and satisfaction clear on your features.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Vi whispers softly. “All flushed and satisfied…because of me. I love getting to do this for you. I love…” Vi’s eyes trail down your body, her own body buzzing with barely-contained desire.

You take Vi in, in all her glory—her mouth wet and her pupils dilated. You know in that moment that you don’t want the fun to stop. So you promptly grab Vi’s face and kiss her hard.

“Mmm…someone wants more,” Vi mumbles against your lips.

“Tell me,” you breathe. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you wanna give me everything,”

“Baby, I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my entire life. I wanna give you everything. Wanna make you forget your name,” Vi growls against your skin.

“Fuck, Vi,” you breathe, climbing on top, straddling her hips. Vi’s own hips immediately buck up, seeking friction against yours.

“Ride me, baby,” she pants, by now, her voice is thick with need. “Show me what you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Vi repeats. Her hands slide up your thighs to your hips, gripping tightly, guiding your movements. “I wanna feel you, baby. Wanna watch you take what you need from me,”

Well you didn’t need any further direction, wrists draping over Vi’s well-defined shoulders as your hips start a sensual grind against hers.

Vi’s head immediately falls back from the friction. “God…” she breathes. You take advantage of the beautiful skin provided to you, peppering kisses along Vi’s throat as you writhe on top of her. She groans in response, fingers digging deeper into your hips, her body snapping up to meet every thrust. “…you feel so good,”

You bite your lip to conceal a moan as you rock forward, then back, then forward again, chasing that delicious friction. And Vi guides you through every movement, murmuring profanities into your skin.

She knows when you’re close, feels your walls clench around her, and she’s devious in bringing you there—letting her hand slide between your two bodies, fingers curling right where you need her, and catapulting you into that white-hot release.

You slow to a stop as the room comes back into focus around you, uttering soft “oh gods” against Vi’s neck while she holds you through it.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “You were so good for me. So damn good.”

You try to speak, but your breath still hasn’t returned to you, and the best you can do is incoherent mumbles, which make Vi chuckle. “Yeah? Tell me about it,” she teases, which makes you giggle.

A comfortable hush falls over the two of you then as Vi holds you. The space that you occupy feels different. Rather than feeling ready to sneak out after your tryst, to return to your life and forget about Vi, it feels right letting her hold you. Letting her breath tickle the crown of your head.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Vi says, “Not thinking about fleeing, are you?” whilst scratching her hands up and down your back.

You shake your head. “Legs wouldn’t get me there anyway,” you quip.

Vi chuckles. “Yeah, I did do a number, didn’t I?” and then softer, she adds, “I’m glad you’re staying, Sunshine,”