#spideywrites

She had been away for numerous weeks. No calls, no messages, no details. All you learned was that it got ugly with some human trafficker that Wanda went too far with, resulting in a disciplinary hearing from her superiors. Once she returned she had not told you much at all, apart from a warm greeting.

Still…the silence, her silence, did worry you.

The furrow between her brow had not left all the time she was with you. There was a tension in her jaw, anger and frustration in her eyes. Though you did not say anything, you knew you had to wait, you always did when it came to heavy topics with Wanda.

As if she could feel the thoughts running through your mind without even having to use her powers, she leaned up to plant a kiss on your chin.

“I missed you,” she mumbles, nuzzling your neck. “Like an unfair amount. It’s hard being away from you.”

Her words send a pleasant warmth through your chest, soothing your anxieties.

You hum contentedly, kissing the crown of her head “I missed you too. More than you know.”

Silence again.

You shift in a sitting position, carefully moving her with you. Your fingers graze the furrow in her brow, all the way down to the tension in her jaw. She leans into your touch, a soft sigh leaving her lips. It was more than just a physical touch. It was a statement, a reminder that you were here for her, whenever she needed it.

She presses her forehead against yours, wrapping her arms around you.

“Can I ask you something?” she hushes, words rushing through crackled syllables.

You nod, your hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. She hums before pulling away to meet your gaze.

What was anger and frustration seemed to morph into sadness and doubt. You didn’t have to have mind reading powers to recognise that look– the kind that called to have a serious discussion.

A few minutes pass before she clears her throat, taking a deep breath. She grabs the remote, shutting the television off and climbs off your lap.

“Right. Yeah.”

You follow her movements, your anxiety now making your heartbeat pick up to an uneasy pace. “Is everything okay?”

Her shoulders slump at the question. Realising that you might have misphrased what you wanted to say, you swiftly correct yourself only to be interrupted.

“I…I was hoping we could talk. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks and I was just afraid. Whenever I thought I was brave enough to be honest with you, I ended up getting scared and backed away.”

Your heart rate spikes up at her words. You don’t know what she really means, but you try to ignore the frightening signals your brain is already throwing at you.

You don’t say anything. Not for now, at least, waiting for her to fully explain herself.

“It was only after the mission that I told myself I couldn’t keep running from it.” she breathes out, her fingers playing with the threads of the blanket, eyes avoiding yours.

Surely it could not be…was it? No. No it wasn’t. It didn’t make any sense. Couples usually don’t cuddle with each other before breaking up, right? At least from your experience. Maybe this might be a new one.

Maybe. But as much as you want to stick to hypotheticals, everything in this moment is pointing to it.

“Okay,” your voice trembles. “It is terrifying to have uncomfortable conversations. Take all the time you need.”

“You don’t think I’m an idiot?”

“No. I could never think that.”

“You’re always so gentle and patient. It makes me feel…”

Yeah, no. She was definitely breaking up with you because you are too overbearing–

“Safe. Certain.”

“What…what is it that you– I don’t understand. Are you…?”

She turns to meet your gaze, shaking her head, “Hey…No. No, I’m not breaking up with you. We’re okay, I promise.”

A heavy weight leaves your shoulders as soon as the words escape her mouth. 

“Yeah...Okay. Sorry. I was just overthinking it.”

She takes your hand, lifting them to her lips, “There is not a world without you in it. When I said you make me feel safe I meant it. You’re my safety. I don’t always have to be in control all the time. It gets so tiring after a while and I just want my mind to shut off. I– I want you to do that for me. To take over when things get too much.”

Oh. This was entirely different from the spiral you were sent into.

“Take over as in…?”

“Making me forget. I trust you, with everything that I have. I want to be able to slip into a space where I don’t need to think…Just feel. I, uh– did some research on the topic and…”

A wild flush blossoms on her face. You smile affectionately, pulling her closer to you, “And…?”

“And it’s normal for some people. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you take care of me, putting my needs over yours. This is…I have been thinking about it for a while now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t even have to do anything at all. I just wanted to share this vulnerable part of me.”

You carefully weigh your words, your brain conjuring different scenarios. You have never really experimented with Wanda before. You were always soft, gentle and slow. It would be different, but then again, you would do anything to make her happy.

“Have you thought of what you want to do?”

She bites her lip, playing with the rings that adorn your fingers, one of hers that you stole a while back.

“I did. I mean, yeah. I want to– would like to be instructed. And for you to be demanding with me. I want you to give and give until I can’t take anymore.”

“Any…limits? That’s what they’re called, right?”

She nods. “I still want to be able to touch and see you. So I won’t be comfortable with restraints or anything like that. I mean…you can find a way to work around it but– I don’t want to be tied up or whatever.”

You don’t miss a single word, holding on to her every sentence. 

“Anything else I need to know? Or I guess have to know?”

“...I don’t want you to hold back. Unless I put a clear stop to it.”

It is clear she has thought over this for more than a while.

Pulling her closer to your chest, you allow her to bury her face at the crook of your neck, shivering as she deeply inhales.

“It means everything for you to share your feelings with me, Wanda. I’m here to make you happy in all the ways that you need.”

“Thank you. Not just for this. But for listening to me, for everything.” She pulls away to look at you, “I love you.”

“I love you.” 

You kiss her cheek, lovingly brushing your nose against hers. You feel the soft press of her lips against yours and shudder. It did not matter how many times you kissed, it still felt like the first time. And like always, you latch onto her. It was a spell that she had wrapped around you, one that you don’t want to break free of.

It was nearly shameful you had to part for air because you would let her steal every bit of your oxygen. She giggles at your dazed look, peppering your face with kisses. You can’t help but join her, admiring her flushed appearance.

You won’t lie, you are a little worried of hurting her. Even though she is powerful and your human strength cannot compare to hers at all, there is still an important part of her that remains human. 

Then again, you would do anything for her. And if it meant her being safe and letting go, you don’t think you need much time to go over it– all you needed was a bit of guidance.

And she offered you anything you needed to know.

Days passed by with nothing but you and Wanda. The only times you left was when you had to go to work or when she had a meeting to attend, the rest was with you cooking meals for each other or doing house chores. It was fun to stay indoors in the peace of your own worlds but you wanted to take her out– even heroes needed breaks, particularly yours.

Tonight, you planned on helping ease off the stress of her weekdays. There was a place you had been wanting to try out with Wanda. Not too loud, not too busy. A good amount of privacy so that she will not get overwhelmed by strangers who possibly recognise her.

She was off to the compound for the entire day, having told you that she will get ready there and meet you at the restaurant. After a long shower, your nerves took hold of you as you looked at the different outfits folded on the bed, all blends of casual and formal. You finally settled on a classic look, deciding that it will be completed with your jacket– Wanda’s favourite.

Once you tried them on, you picked at every possible imperfection. As much as it was ridiculous, you always wanted to impress her.

“Good. All good,” you mutter, reaching for your phone to send her a text when it buzzed.

It was a call from Wanda. Almost immediately, you picked it up, a quip on the tip of your tongue, with her being a little earlier than what you had initially planned. Though a long, exhausted sigh from the other end stops you.

“Hey…” 

“Hey. Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry, my love. There’s a last-minute mission. Relating to the guy I told you about? I…I can’t say much now. I’m so sorry.”

Your heart flipped as you heard her voice trembling, wanting to rush over there to comfort her.

“It’s alright–”

“No, I– I know you wanted to go out. I really wish I could turn it down, but–”

“Wanda. It’s okay, I promise. I’m not angry. Do what you have to do and be safe. I’ll be here for you when you come back, alright?”

You think you hear a sniffle, but you don’t have time to question it before she speaks again.

“Thank you. I…I will find a way to make this work, I swear.”

“There’s nothing you need to do. Just be careful.”

She whispers an apology before hanging up.

There are times when you wonder what it is like to be an Avenger, to have to shoulder responsibilities while still having to live your life. 

While you were part sad, part understanding, you were still adamant about making tonight all about Wanda– you just have to twist it in your own favour. 

Moments after you hear a door slamming brutally, startling you, followed by strings of curses.

In times like this, Wanda usually wanted to be alone to ground herself. You only have to explain that you ordered food and that you will be around if she needs you–

“What is going on?”

All of a sudden, you felt silly for keeping your outerwear on.

You clear your throat. “I…wanted to surprise you? Since we couldn’t go to dinner I brought it to us. Is it too much–”

Her lips were on yours. Urgent, begging. Your gasps are swallowed; she won’t allow you space for oxygen, pulling you back to her every time you merely separate. Her hands are all around you– fisting the collar of your shirt, grazing the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer– like you would disappear. 

“Wanda,” you groan, gently pulling away. “Slow down.”

Your breaths intermingle, heavy and bathed. Her hold lessens its deathly grip on you. Your brain was all over the place, like it always was when Wanda kissed you with a passion that is capable of ending your life. 

Pushing through the haze she put you in, you look at her. There was that same look in her eyes a few days ago– angry, pained.

“I’m sorry.” She steps back, running a hand through her hair, her voice trembling.

“That’s a new way of greeting someone. You told me good evening without even having to say it.” You chuckle.

She playfully rolls her eyes, though a hint of a smile crosses her face. It leaves just as quickly as it appears.

Something was brewing in her mind– it might have been that mission she was on. While most of them were usually extreme, this one was probably too much for her. You heard it in her tone when she called you.

She looks over at the table, then at you. A few seconds passes before she inhales and exhales deeply. It was the bare minimum, but after the day she had, the gesture was enough to make a heat in her chest blossom.

“I’ll set up the plates.”

“That’s alright, I’ll get them.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still capable of moving.”

“I’m not doubting that– but I want you to leave it all to me. You deserve a break, and that means leaving me to set the table.”

She raises an eyebrow but says nothing, listening to you. After you’ve set plates and glasses, you move to unpack the contents of your dinner.

In between bites, she could not stop looking at you. How overdressed you were, but given the context, it was not much of a problem (at all, actually).

Your face heats up at her attention. The way she gazes at you is in a manner that would be close to scandalous if you were in a public setting. You look at her in return, admiring her– her mussed hair, the creases in her clothes. She was still beautiful, in every sense of the word. 

And her eyes.

You swear they could drown you. 

“You’re staring.” 

“You’re staring too,” you point out, your heart skipping.

“Guilty.” She shrugs, “But only because you make it hard not to.”

“I thought that was your job.”

“I have eyebags and look like I fell from two floors, and you’re telling me that I’m…what, pretty?”

“Pretty girls always fall from two floors. It’s kind of my type.”

“Wow, you are easy to please.”

“I don’t ask for much,” you tease. “Eyebags, falling from two floors…Those are my only standards.”

She tries to suppress a smile but fails, laughing as she shakes her head. You join in too, the easiness of the atmosphere making your heart flutter.

After a moment, she leans in, softly brushing her lips against yours. It was softer this time, slow and patient.

“Thank you. For always taking care of me.”

“It’s–”

“No. It’s…it’s more than you know. I have baggage to deal with, but you’re always here for me. Even when I’m like this.” She wrings her fingers, shoulders dropping. “I get tired. Angry. I let it get the best of me, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You don’t interrupt, allowing her all the time she needs to unload the weight she carries. Instead, you hold one of her hands, lightly squeezing it.

“I can’t really tell you much, but…it was just awful. The…the same trafficker that we locked up escaped to some country. Wherever he is now, he’ll just do the same thing. Over and over,” she shudders. “And we let him escape. We let it happen.”

Her voice breaks at the edges. You move closer, and she leans into your touch, letting you hold her. A few stray tears escape her, dampening your shirt, but you don’t care. You let her know, silently, how sorry you were. How terrible it was. And that you were here for her, in any way she needed.

After a moment, she pulls away, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry.” She points to your shirt.

“Don’t bother with it. It adds a certain…je ne sais quoi. Me wearing you.” You chuckle, “How about I run a bath for you? Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” she hushes, not separating away from you.

When you make sure she has properly eaten, you lead her to the bathroom, making a mental note to clear off the table later.

You allow her some privacy to undress while you take care of the bath, picking her favourite scents and checking if the temperature is proper. Once everything was complete, you stepped back, letting Wanda know that the bath was ready for her. She sighed gratefully and walked into the bathroom.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” You kiss her forehead, gasping when she kisses you.

“You’re too sweet.”

“All for you.”

She shyly looks at you as her hands play with the hem of her towel. You smiled in reassurance, leaving to give her the quiet she needed.

You didn’t stay for long in the kitchen, rushing and cleaning up as neatly as you could. Mainly because you never really liked to leave her alone for too long in sensitive times like these, wanting to be in close proximity.

When everything was clean, you did your nightly routine in the guest bathroom and moved to your room. Wanda was still in the bath, allowing herself to sink into the comfort she was basking in. She feels awful for being so needy and weak. 

Oddly enough, you did not make it look that way.

It was almost like you made her stronger for letting her be vulnerable around you. A side she didn’t let anyone see. At the Tower, she had to be strict, stern. Not too harsh, but not too gentle either. She somehow managed to intimidate others, and not only because of her powers. Wanda was the last person you would want to annoy.

At home, in the safety of her universe with you, it was different. She allowed all facets to be exposed, just because she could– a counterbalance to having to be in charge all the time.

She hears the sound of shuffling in the adjacent room, clothes ruffling and drawers opening and closing. 

A thought crosses her mind as she pictured you changing your clothes. It was bad timing, what with the mission and everything happening, but she truly meant it when she said you looked good, beautiful, even to the point where it was unfair.

You smelt of flowers and citrus. Sweet and delicate. Honestly, she would lie to herself if she said she didn’t want you because she really did. To make her feel safe, to reassure her.

She wonders if you truly know what– or rather, how you make her feel.

A few moments pass before she rinses off the soap from her body, sighing as the ache from today leaves her.

She walks into your room, pleasantly greeted by your casual look rather than the one you had on before.

You were impossible not to admire, as much as you always downplayed it.

Your eyebrows, the colour of your eyes, your neck that she loved to adorn with bites…your arms that she held on to, everything about you was mesmerising.

Like you knew she was staring at you, you lift your eyes to hers, the corners of your lips ticking upwards.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” she mumbles, her eyes dropping to your fingers when you turn a page.

She drags her feet towards you, comfortably settling her weight on you. Almost immediately, the book was set aside as her damp hands found their way around your neck as you wrapped your hands around her clothed waist.

Her skin was flushed, glossening. Strands of her hair were glued to her shoulders, droplets of water ran down her collarbones, but neither of you cared. 

“What do you need?” you whispered, afraid that you would ruin the silence.

“You.” Her lips brushed against your jaw, the ghost of her breath sending pleasant shivers through your body. “Please.”

Your heart hammers at the tone of her voice, making you fumble your words. 

At your assumed silence, she dropped her face from your face to cover hers, “I know. It's ridiculous of me to ask–”

You softly hush her, taking her hands from her face, intertwining them in yours. “Your feelings are never ridiculous.”

Her eyes flicker between yours, a warm, patient smile gracing your features. You were trying to enter the space you had to before moving on, for her.

Once the fog in your mind clears, you spoke up again,

 “Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

She nods, leaning to brush her lips against yours, frowning when you gently pull away. “I need your words.”

Your hands go back to her waist, rubbing soothing circles as she took the time she needed.

Her mouth opened and closed as she found the words she wanted, needed to say. “I want you to take over. Make me forget.”

Then you were reminded of your discussion–  how she wanted to be spoken to, what her limits were.

“What are your colours?”

“Green, I’m good to go. Yellow, I want to slow down. Red, I want to stop.”

“Good.”

You leaned closer, eyes flicking to hers, slightly darker than they were before, then to her lips. They parted, waiting for you. Though you listened to her plea, you carried it out in your own way. With your hands still on her hips, you pulled her closer, letting her believe you would give in to her wishes, drawing your lips to hers before retreating.

She mutters your name, pressing  her forehead against yours. You finally take pity on her, her glossy eyes pleading, begging for you to kiss her. There was no reason for you to tease her any further…for now.

With one last look, you press your lips against hers, light and gentle at first, not wanting to rush the moment. She sighs, nearly in relief, allowing you to lead her. From this close, you could smell her shampoo, feel the warmth of her body.

Her hands trembled as they fell to your chest, feeling the tremors of your heart. Her tongue lightly slides along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You groan, your tongues mingling together.

When her hips rolled against yours, all words left you. You could feel her smirking against your lips.

“Are you going to make me wait?” she panted, hands moving up to your shoulders.

“You’re making demands?” Your voice wavered as you tried to keep a calm, leveled tone.

She feigns confusion. “I can’t?”

Now you got her.

You trail your lips on her jaw, “Not if you don’t ask nicely.”

“We both know you always end up– oh…”

Her breath hitches as your lips move to her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point. She tilts her head back, encouraging you to press your lips on her skin.

You loved having her like this, desperate and willing.

“What was that?” you teased, feeling your ego bloom at her words fumbling.

Any attempts at quipping back died when you found another sensitive spot to mark. 

She could not hold back anymore, her movements building a rhythm as she now settled on your thigh. A pang of desire shot through you, setting a fire in your lower abdomen as you felt her on your bare thigh. 

She meets your gaze, the once soft-look now morphed into one she was unfamiliar with. It quickly pulled her in a haze she did not want to escape.

“Are you going to be patient for me?”

“I…”

You tensed your thigh, dragging her hips back and forth. “I asked you a question.”

“Whatever, just don’t– don’t make me have to ask,” she huffs, wishing she would wipe off that ridiculous smile you wore.

She could not even focus anymore as her brain turned to mush, the towel around her loosened as she built a steady rhythm with you guiding her. 

“Fine. Since you want me so badly…use my thigh. And don’t stop until I say so.”

Your words, lightly condescending and intertwined with order, made her heart race. She found herself liking it more than she should.

“Please–”

The grip on her hips slightly tightened, one of your hands sliding up her back to her hair, lightly tugging it back so as to not hurt her. “Now you’re asking?”

An apology tumbles from her lips, her fingers digging in the skin of your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I– I just want you so bad.”

“I know.” You hushed, “I want you too…more than words can even put it.”

Her arms wrapped around you as she drags her lips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, ragged whispers of your name tumbling from her mouth. She feels that familiar heat in the pit of her stomach, one you always guided her to.

You let her take what she needed from you. You had to hold back your groans; seeing her this way never failed to make you weak. 

Pulling her away from your shoulder, you guided her into a kiss, a little messy and uncoordinated. She was too focused on chasing her pleasure, too focused on the feeling of your hands all over her. Each mutter of your praise progressively sent her to the edge and then–

“Stop.”

Everything tumbled. She hopes she misheard, but the retreat of your hands and the expectant look on your face was a clear, unfortunate message.

The cloud of pleasure she had been floating on was abruptly taken from her. All she could see was you.

Admittedly, you felt a little bad. Holding her back was like punishing you, stopping yourself from seeing her chase what was rightfully hers.

Your hands rubbed soothing circles on her bare back. “Colour?” 

“Green…” She sighs, pushing through the fog of confusion.

You smiled, peppering soft kisses all over her face. In one smooth move, you carefully shifted your positions and laid her on the bed.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. She was a scene pulled out of your dreams, a picture only you had the right to take. It was only a call of your name that made you realise this was real. She was real.

“You’re gorgeous,” you blurted out, too drunk on her to think of anything else. “So pretty.”

She blushes, tugging on your shirt, asking a silent question. You moved away to pull it over your head. Not even a few seconds later, her hands were already on you, exploring every bit of your chest. You bite your lip, your desire soaring as she touches you with reverence, in a way no one ever could. 

“You always say that...”

Then, without warning, she pulls you down with her, swallowing your gasps. She captures your bottom lip with her teeth, careful not to hurt you, relishing in your ragged breaths, your burning skin against hers without any barriers. Her hands moved to your shorts, but you quickly caught them, interlacing your fingers as you placed them above her head.

“You’re the right one for me,” you whispered against her lips, trailing kisses against the column of her throat.

If she cannot believe it, you will prove it to her.

Your kisses scattered across her chest, softly nipping at her skin. You whispered praises in between, your hands following wherever your lips touched. You paid attention to each mole, each scar. 

As you made your descent to where she needed you the most, you had to hold yourself back. You wanted her– wanted to worship her, until she forgets about everything.

Her impatience gets the best of her as a groan of your name leaves her lips. “Please…”

It hurts you to elongate her pleasure. You just wanted to give in to her. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to…” She falters, hands hesitantly settling on top of your head. “I want…”

Much to her dismay you took your time, you moved away.

“I can’t do anything unless you tell me in your words, what it is that you want me to do, Wanda.”

She should not be affected by how stern you were. Yet she was, making the ache between her legs deepen.

“I want you to taste me.”

You kissed her stomach, humming in approval. “Good. Keep your hands above your head. If you touch me, I’ll stop.”

Of course you won’t. But you don’t let her know that. The most powerful woman was at your mercy, and that was enough to satisfy you alone.

“I won’t be able to…”

“You will.”

Your hands spread her thighs apart, and you could not hold back your sighs. She was perfect, and you were grateful to have her like this, grateful that she trusted you with her body.

You placed her legs on either side of your head, looking up at her. “Ready?”

Her fingers twitch as she looks down at you, voicing her answer with a hushed yes. At her permission, your tongue carefully swipes through her labia. You did not want to rush it, taking your time as you flicked against her bundle of nerves. It did not matter how many times you had her like this; you willed yourself to remember her taste, her breathy moans.

It took everything in her to keep her hands where they were, not wanting to be robbed out of her pleasure again. Your movements slowly built a rhythm as you hummed, making her shamelessly grind against your face. 

“You’re perfect…always perfect. So good for me,” you whispered, unable to speak up.

“More. I need more,” she cries out.

“Bossy,” you chuckled, “I thought I said you had to wait.”

“You’re being unfair.”

“Just lie back and relax.” You nip her thigh.

Your hand slides up her body, pressing her lower abdomen. She grabs the pillows above her in a harsh grip, nearly ripping them in the process. Each press and flick brought her back to the edge again, nearly tipping over it. Hisses and curse words tumbled from her, a blend of English and a language you could not really understand but always vowed to pay attention to. Your name never sounded better than when she uttered it. 

She felt it– an overwhelmingly pleasant heat blossoming, threatening to break loose. Your hums pushed it, your occasional praises and your tongue unrelenting.

“I’m close, please don’t–”

Your hand eased the pressure on her abdomen, the steady-paced rhythm you built slowing down.

She sobs, nearly trashing wildly, looking down at you with anger. Honestly, if she really had it in her to order you, you think you would listen to her. She was especially beautiful when she was borderline terrifying.

You gently remove her legs from your head, leaving small kisses in the process, making your way up to her heaving chest. Her hands let go of the pillows. You think you see a red hue, but it might have been a trick of the lights.

Or from the oxygen you were slightly deprived of.

If she was not flushed then, she was now. It never failed to make her blush, to see you climbing up from between her legs with her arousal glistening your lips.

“Colour?” You pushed back her hair, waiting for her breathing to get back to normal.

“Green,” she exhales, “Can I…Can I touch you now?”

You looked at her hands, still placed where you left them.

“Yeah.” You smiled.

Not needing to be told twice, her hands find your hips, pulling you down against her. She kisses you, moaning at her own taste.

She could not think, just feel you– the comfort and love you were willingly giving her.

“Please…please touch me,” She moans tiredly. “I want– need you.”

Deciding that she was good and surprisingly patient, you wanted to offer her what you stole. 

“You’ll have me.”

Your hands slipped down between your bodies at an aching pace. You cupped her heat, groaning when you felt her desire for you.

You won’t make her wait this time. Her fingers dug into the skin of your shoulders, her thighs trapping your hand, making you stifle a groan. Gently circling her bundle of nerves, you slide in your index finger, giving her a moment to adjust to the intrusion before pumping your digit, her gasps sending an ache between your legs.

It was addicting, hearing her like this, feeling her this way, how she wanted you.

“You feel so good– please don’t stop.”

As if you could ever deny her again. It’ll be torture for you.

“You have me,” you softly hushed her, “You always do.”

You had no choice but to carry out her pleasure in the way that she wanted, without restrictions. You listened to every breath, feeling a blissful stir at the pit of her stomach at the rise of her hips.

“Can you take another?” you panted, trying to speak and without focusing on how good she feels for you.

“Yeah– yeah. Please.”

You listen, sliding another finger, not disrupting the rhythm you built so far. She is like a beautiful wildfire, something you could not look away from. Her mind went blank as she felt that pressure again, ears only registering your pants, your praises, and unrelenting touch. She felt your teeth retracing her neck, a sharp sting rapidly soothed by the trace of your tongue.

“I meant it when I said you were perfect. You’re the right one for me.” 

She wasn’t able to answer, choosing instead to guide you back to her lips, leading you in a heated kiss. Your reverence did not go unnoticed; it never will. Even in moments like these, where she asked that you take complete control, you would always treat her like she was your only person.

Each pump of your fingers, each circle of your thumb, and your praises made a fire grow rapidly. She broke the kiss with a sob of your name.

“Please, I’m close, I–”

You softly hushed her, kissing her jaw. “Let go for me.” 

She cries your name, like it was the only word she could utter. The ground was shaking, the lights were flickering, but you were too caught up on guiding her over the edge to notice. It was only after you felt…something.

A strange, euphoric energy zapped through your entire body before the room was blinded entirely in red. You gasp, having never seen her like this before. It was the first time you had ever seen her powers like this, a beautiful sort of chaos.

The room was filled with your pants. You carefully pulled back, softly apologising when she winced. Her eyes fluttered open to you rubbing circles on her thigh, then the room.

“What the…” Her chest was heaving, but now for an entirely different reason. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I…I usually try to…control myself.”

“Don’t apologise.” You kiss her, “It’s beautiful.”

She frowns, her lips trembling. “I could have hurt you…”

You shake your head. “I didn’t feel any pain. The opposite, actually. It was…It felt amazing. Like I could almost feel you. And you felt good.”

She thought that she scared you away, that you would look at her and see her as someone else you did not recognise. She did not expect to meet reverence and complete wonder. 

Her hand grazed your cheek as you looked down at her. You turned your head, kissing her wrist, before lying down next to her. You pulled her in your arms, letting her rest her head on your chest.

Your pants and racing heartbeats filled the silence. You looked at the room, still coloured in a red hue.

“Are you feeling okay?” you mumbled once you could speak again.

“Yeah, I just…can’t feel my legs.”

“You have that to blame me for.”

She playfully slaps your chest. “You’re too arrogant for your own good.”

“I think I have the right to be proud…” You gesture to the room. “That was sexy.”

“You’re so weird.”

You share a laugh as she buries her head in your chest. After a moment, she grows serious.

“But, really…you weren’t, y’know, creeped out?”

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know…because my powers are scary. You’ve seen what happens with them when I don’t handle them properly. It just…pushes people away. I don’t– I don’t want that to happen with you.”

“Hey…I’m not scared. You’ll never be able to push me away.” You gently lift her chin, your heart sinking at the tremor of her voice, “I’m with you until the very end.”

She kisses you, tiredly and uncoordinated, pulling back with a shy smile. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’ll always have me,” you echoed your words from earlier, holding her close to you, “I love you.”

“I love you.” She mumbles back, the voice in her brain dying down.

Her eyes drifted shut, falling asleep to your hands soothingly scratching her scalp and your soft promises that she will remember, even in her sleep.

A little while later, you moved to clean yourselves, grabbing a rag for each of you. You carefully wiped down her skin, admiring the marks you left behind and praising her, thanking her for trusting you with her body then got comfortable clothes for you to wear, choosing one of your old sweatshirts. 

As much as she wanted to help you told her to stay put. You did everything to take care of her, preparing a quick platter of snacks, bringing back water and helping her take small sips. She leaned back against your chest, chewing on grapes, occasionally feeding you some.

“I found out something,” she mutters, “Want to hear it?’

“What is it?”

She smiles, wiping a crumb from your lips, “I have an amazing partner.”

“Oh? I’d have to meet them some time soon.”

“You’re silly.”

“You love it.”

She hums, resting back against you. Her mind felt at ease, like it always did with you. Her doubts, her fears, would always be silenced by your security, by your love. For the first time, she found herself breathing, without being scared– that she could be herself, strong and capable, while still allowing you to take over when things got too much to handle.

loves to ride your face. it gives her a sense of control. especially if she is jealous— which she will never admit, of course. so what better way there is to interrupt your conversation with someone you swear was only a colleague by taking you straight to your room (she knows you were being truthful)

and speaking of…she is greedy about her pleasure. when you're between her thighs all she can focus on is the feel of your tongue and how obedient you were being, willingly letting yourself get used. she loves to tease you— not in a completely degrading manner. but she will mock you for being so desperate for dropping to your knees. will coax you to beg her to taste her first

won't be afraid to ride your thigh while you're writing down reports. she wants your attention, so it's only fair that she takes it. and if you're risky enough she will even do it on call

is willing to switch up dynamics every once in a while. of course she won't make a big deal out of it but you would always feel particularly cocky— which obviously results into her showing you who is really in control. tease her and it will come with a pushback. which means her touching herself, which meant you keeping your hands to yourself. it's torture, obviously

definitely leaves marks on your neck. after your most intimate moments, she traces them with her fingers. she loves how bashful you get when you look at them in the mirror. however if someone else points them out she will tell them off, saying that it is none of their business. also loves to receive marks in return. especially in places she won’t think of looking at, like her thighs, her collarbones and her chest...

i mentioned riding before and can i say how much she loves to ride your strap. her hands would be everywhere. on your chest above your breasts, on your shoulders…she would guide you into a heated kiss, only breaking it to drag her lips to your neck, biting your pulse point, relishing in your pleas

has entertained the idea of calling herself a certain…specific honorific but always backtracked. though it still runs through her mind, heavily, at all times. she even dreamed about it and was not able to look at you without blushing red for the entire day

she loves to call you pet names in sokovian. gets on an ego trip whenever you fumble your words and loves to trace your face, feeling the heat under your skin at her sentences. she knows the effect she has on you and she uses it to her full advantage. she wants to receive praise in return. she nearly goes haywire when you worship her body. sex is intimate and not just a physical act to her, so this act of love pushes her through the edge

has thought of using her powers to enhance both of your pleasure. again, those were one of the things she never really got the courage to talk to you about but…maybe one day she will. the spell books she borrowed from agatha was growing in a pile and they had to be put to good use after all, right?

wore lingerie once and your brain straight up blanked out. you seriously had no idea what to say, your body expressing your thoughts as your hands traced the lace of her underwear, eyes already pleading to taste her, for her to ride your strap, your face, your fingers— anything. you just needed her, needed to please her like it was your only responsibility

sets reminders that you’re together. whether it’s her stealing your clothes, or spraying her perfume on you, or even you giving her one of your rings— it’s enough for her. it’s a subtle message that holds meaning. bless anyone that does not understand you’re together

hooks her fingers under your belt loops to pull you closer in your most passionate moments and guides you anywhere she wants to. it doesn’t matter if it’s your bed, against the wall or the couch, even the bathroom. any corner she pulls you to, you happily follow. you’re right where you want to be.

makes you ask what you want before anything else. she’s all for consent and she wants to hear it from you, verbally. so, nods and hums aren’t enough. a vocal ‘yes’ works, a ‘please’ allows you to drop to your knees and do anything you want and she wants.

takes her time with every kiss and touch. it feels like forever, but you don’t complain. your impatience is what she’s looking for and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you love the drag of it. you don’t want if it’s that easy.

messes with your mind, specifically during meetings. she’s able to conjure scenarios. this one time, she plunged you into one—the office was empty, except for you two. bruce even had to ask you if you needed a break when, in fact, you were stuck in a dream where you were tasting her, over and over, as she cried out your name, her nails lightly scratching the back of your neck. you felt every sensation.

relishes in your sounds. every hitch of your breath, every moan, every praise, feeds the fodder of her brain. she’s not afraid to be vocal too. her praises are in mixes of sokovian and english and her whimpers encourage you to please her. whether that is with your strap, your fingers or your mouth. whatever the both of you want goes.

loves to know her pleasure is yours. at first, you were nervous to bring up the topic with her because not everyone necessarily wants to only be on the receiving end. but with lots of communication, you managed to find what you liked and disliked. the first time you dropped to your knees and moaned into her heat, her legs nearly gave out. as much as she felt selfish, you told her that’s what you wanted and needed. it’s safe to say she was entirely spoiled.

reaches for your hand whenever she can. contact is important to her. it’s intimate and reassures her that what you have is real and not just a fantasy. 

speaking of fantasies…she might or might not have had a few dreams about you before your relationship. can you really blame her? your exhausted appearance after an intense training always found a way into her subconscious. who knew that a simple thing such as drinking from the water fountain could be attractive?

can be as rough as she is gentle, but only with your permission. if you allow her to be slightly mocking or degrading, she won’t be afraid to cross that line, teasing you for how needy you are to please her.

can’t help but whisper she loves you before she approaches her edge of pleasure. it’s something you can’t escape. you guide her wave after wave, echoing how much you love her.

loses control of her powers when you guide her to the peak of her pleasure. she broke half the headboard once while riding your strap—but you were quick to reassure her, telling her it was beautiful. and it truly was—your room was engulfed in red sparks and knowing that you made her felt that way? it was something you’d never forget. meanwhile she was ashamed and mortified.

before your official relationship, she touched herself to you, canting her hips up as she pictured you hovering over her. she definitely felt guilty afterwards. now, she doesn’t. all she has to be is honest with you. your sputter and surprise are what she lives for.

needs reassurance. whether that is by touch or words. it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual. whenever you hold her gaze from across a crowded room, help her change into clean clothes, or pepper kisses all over her face—it affects her more than you know. and whenever you whisper praises, she could almost cry. your devotion means everything to her, and she does her best to return it.

loves it when you get jealous. it’s usually subtle—a frown of your brows when a shield agent flirts with her, a roll of your eyes when they courageously ask her out in front of your face. that’s when you take control, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to you with a smirk that says, “clearly she’s not interested in you.” your confidence soars later on. you pin her hands above her head, breathing out orders as you extend her pleasure…it’s definitely something she’ll think of. she even asks herself if she should provoke you to that point again.

is against any form of restraints. it brings her back to a bad place (hydra and the raft), of course, you understand this. you respect her every wishes and demands.

always asks to take off your binder (shoutout afab readers). her movements are slow-paced; as her fingers slide under it with a silent question. when you give your permission, she carefully takes it off, worshipping you in a way you’d never let anyone else do. and her mouth? your mind shuts down at how her tongue circles your nipples, how her hand squeezes your breasts, how she thanks you for trusting her with your body…she’s the only one you’d ever let touch you like this.

does your makeup while sitting on your hips, only to ruin it afterwards. maybe it was part of her plan. in one instance, she helped you get ready before one of tony’s galas, only to ruin you with smudged lipstick, the corners of your mouth painted with burgundy red. not that you complained.

never really understood the appeal of hickeys. if anything, she thought it was tacky. it all changed when she got bolder in the first moments of your relationship. the pressure of her teeth against your pulse point, how her tongue slid over to soothe the sting…all you could do was grip her hips and do the same, leaving marks on her collarbones and her chest.

places aftercare above anything else. asks you if she was rough or not. wants to take care of you because, after all, you placed her priorities over yours. but in the end, it’s mutual. you wipe her clean, thanking her as you kiss every inch of her skin with each drag of the rag, asking her if you did good.

wears fishnets and short skirts for herself, but also for you (emo wanda please save us), your eyes wander everywhere, your mouth opening and closing as you try to speak. you lose every sense of yourself when she settles on your lap, her eyebrows raising in amusement as she traces the heat of your face.

also wears your belongings. it doesn’t matter if it’s your shirt or rings—trust she will steal them. you allow her to, of course. you two even go as far as to have matching perfume and one of your fingers painted in the other’s respective nail polish, like that it sends a clear message to everyone in the compound.

will go above to protect you. it scares her how much she is willing to go to defend you, but she will do all it takes to make sure you’re safe. she knows you’ll do the same for her. the way you stood up for her to tony during the sokovian accords was proof enough. it was more than just bias; it was a testimony to your love.

sketches some of your moments. there’s notes with dates attached to them. one is of your eyes lost in thought, others of your hands, some of when you’re doing mundane chores. it’s all kept in a diary, hidden away from you.

talks to you about her past. it’s not always an easy discussion, what with the death of her family, but you always listen. you pay attention to her childhood stories of her brother and her parents, not interrupting her. you share some details of yourself when she asks, and the moment brings you closer than you already are. trust is important to her.

already has your life outside the avengers planned out. as much as her tone is all jest you can tell she’s serious. it’s mostly a discussion you have when you’re alone, either on a date or after a particularly difficult day. the thought of settling in a house with children is not just a mere wish. it’s something you seriously think of. you even found a house big enough for a family of four in a peaceful neighbourhood.

Ever since her visit at the temple your life had a strange turn of events. Your griefs and losses brought you closer. You exchanged your own knowledge of the world, of your powers. Everyone saw and took notice of your relationship with her. You couldn’t really explain why you felt close to her. It was just this need of wanting to protect someone, of maintaining that they are a good person despite a couple of midsjudgements. And you swore that you would retrace your every step to the decision you have made to stay with her. 

What you would never allow to happen, however, is for her to get led down the path the Darkhold had been leading her. It was frightening. To see how it called to her, the words plaguing her mind as it did with her fingers. And though she has told you time and time that she ‘has it under control’ you are not sure if she was or is being truthful with herself. She’d stay in that place for long periods of hours, without any water or food. The more you tried to read into it the more it was confusing and rightfully so, worrying.

She insisted you to not go down the basement at these times, saying it’s none of your concern and that you might get hurt. You were stubborn enough to ignore her qualms because deep down, she never could hurt you. And even if her powers were to lose control your abilities are able to block them. 

At least you’d try to.

As you walked down the stairs, her powers entrapped you, red threads of energy flowed through the door. When you opened it, it was a beautiful disaster, her back turned to you as she floated in the air and sat cross-legged, murmuring chants, like she was in a meditative state.

While you were caught between whether you should interrupt or not, her voice sharply called your name and like a Pavlovian response, you listened.

“You know it is rude to not knock,” her voice husks out, her accent flowing between the syllables.

It distracted you, for just a bit.

“I uh…I just thought if you needed anything?” 

Like maybe some fresh air and light, for one.

“I don’t, you can leave. I won’t be here for too long, anyway,” she dismissed you as if you were annoying her, implicitly asking you to leave her alone.

And for a minute you do.

But you didn’t listen as you sat on the nearest armchair. You felt the hairs on your arms rising, feeling as though something is probing around you. She sighs and floats back down, stretching her body and you try not to let it get to you, how elegant she looks.

“It seems as though you have a hard time listening.”

“I’m just worried, Wanda. If it were anything else I would leave you at it but this is…I’m just concerned.” You stammered, figuring out how to approach the situation without it ending in an argument.

Apparently she did not take it that way with the manner in which she scoffed and climbed up the stairs with the book following her. Maybe you were overstepping. Did it stop you from blasting a thread of energy to try to pull the book towards you, only to be met with a blast of red energy from it? No.

She rushed to your side as you tried to catch the air that had been knocked out of you. The feeling of her hands on you, checking where you might’ve been hurt sent you into a haze that was not because of the impact.

“Do you have some kind of death wish?”

“If it means protecting and understanding you, I do. I want to know what’s going on,” You tried to carefully choose your words, still feeling dizzy “You lock yourself in that room, I barely get to see you and when I do you’re too…you’re…”

“Too what? Preoccupied and busy with getting back my family? I know it’s not on your priorities anymore but it is on mine. And just because I’m letting you stay here does not mean you have a free pass at getting curious.”

Without another word she stands up, her irises turning red. Her words get crueler, harsher, her voice mixing with something bizarre, strange.

“That has nothing to do with— it’s not the point.” The subject had now changed and turned personal, your voice wavering as you followed her.

You had no idea she would use your own vulnerabilities against you. The rational response would be to ignore her and go your own separate ways but this felt like a hot knife was plunged into your heart.

“I think it has everything to do with it. You’ve lost your family and you’re scrambling to save everyone and you’re projecting yourself onto others. I don’t need your help and if that’s something you can’t live with then I’ll be glad to send you back to that temple.”

It didn’t matter who was right at this point. You weren’t having it anymore, following her to the hallway. It took everything in her to hold back her temper.

“I know you don’t need saving, I’m not treating you or anyone like some damsel in distress. I want to know what is happening to you, Strange says–”

“Alright. Fine. Let’s say I did entertain your idea of helping me. So what, then? What would you do? Offer me promises? It does not work that way,” she paused and turned around, nearly making you fall on your back.

Tears welled into your eyes but you held yourself back, willing yourself to stay calm but failing to when her eyes meet yours, brows furrowed in either frustration, anger or sadness. You couldn’t exactly tell.

“I just thought you’ve already lost so much that you don’t deserve to have to go through that pain anymore.”

She’s fighting herself back from tracing your tears, fighting herself back from letting her own fall. It’s too much of her. Too much to think of.

“I am not a replacement for what you’ve lost.”

“What?”

You don’t say anything for a while and Wanda knew she took it too far, at least this time.

“I’m not what you once lost. You can’t have…have what you’re looking for with me. Not every person you meet is going to end up in some freak accident.”

“I’m not looking for anything,” you desperately sighed, everything in you telling you to just drop it but you were just as stubborn as the person in front of you.

“Really? Then why do you always try to save everyone and everything when there is nothing to do,” she cries out, a grave voice intertwining with hers, as if it’s trying to take over.

“I can’t give up on you.”

Even as you were hurt, you didn’t leave. You carefully took a step closer to her, her eyes now wild, her fingers at her side in fists as if she’s afraid she might blast her powers at you. Your hands slowly reached for hers, giving her time to step away if she wanted.

Almost immediately her hands hold yours. You traced her tinted knuckles, your heart sinking at the sight of them. Then, your eyes meet hers. Tears were running down her face and you wiped them away.

 “You’re not going to be alone again. I promise.”

The dark voice in her head is trying to pull her back but your gaze, your touch, was silencing it. She leaned towards you, holding you close as much as she could. Her thumbs moved at your face to wipe away your tears in return.

She couldn’t deflect anymore. She knew you were being truthful. What she feared was what might happen if, when she will lose control all over again and you’ll see her true nature.

She had already lost so much. Losing you would be like losing herself.

You were too caught up to realise what you were doing, your touches not retracting. It’s like you were gravitating towards the other, attracted and magnified. Her gaze was on yours, dropping lower to your lips. You were doing the same, asking a silent question. As her nose nudges against yours you close your eyes, able to feel the warmth radiating from her.

Your lips temptingly grazed against hers, each touch featherlight. You drew in and back as your hands laced around her waist and hers reached for the back of your neck, following your every move. With one last look you leaned into each other, pressing your mouths together in a gentle embrace. Surprisingly, your first kiss with her is not rough like the careless words that had been thrown. It’s sweet, soft and so tender you feel you are about to melt into her and you don’t want this to end. It was quickly becoming addicting.

When you pulled back for air there was a different look in her eyes, and you’re sure yours were the same. Her thumb traced your lips before you captured her lips with yours again. You built a rhythm, gently sliding your tongue alongside hers before trapping her bottom lip between your teeth, swallowing her gasps.

She breathed your name against your lips, your body going weak at how desperate she calls out for you. Even though you wanted to focus on her sounds you couldn’t, her lips were moving to press kisses against the column of your throat, completely overwhelming you with pleasure. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair, lightly pulling her back, a low hum escaping her lips. When her piercing eyes looked into yours as if they wanted to undress you right then and there, you feel that you could blindly give her anything she asks of you.

She moved away and before you asked if she wanted to stop with a wave of her hand you found yourself in a room. Yours.

“Show off,” you playfully chuckled, laughing when she rolled her eyes.

“You can’t stay quiet for just a minute?”

“Why don’t you shut me up then?”

At her raised eyebrow you stop talking, your breath catching when she pushed you backwards until your knees hit the back of the bed. When she straddles your lap you lose any capacity to speak.

She doesn’t know what to make of it. What might happen after. This was crossing the line. 

But your scent, your sighs, your touch, overpowers her. You were in the same state as you stared at her, million questions running through your mind. They’re interrupted when her hands slid under your shirt, roaming across your chest. She kissed you again, eagerly, desperately and uncoordinated. You gasped into her mouth, earning a chuckle from her but you didn’t let her get too confident, pulling away from her to trail a path of kisses from her chin, to her jaw, to her neck, finding all her sweet spots. It’s only when she breathes your name that you look at her again, reality finally settling in, knocking you down.

Minutes ago you were arguing, now you were seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes. You pull back with clumsy apologies but she didn’t let you utter another word, her mouth pressing against yours like she has been deprived of you. She only lets you go when you’re in need of air, her fingers tracing your face, your once sad eyes now blown with desire and hunger.

“I want this. But only if you do,” She murmurs, melting when your eyes flit between hers and her lips.

You nod but it’s not enough for her. Her fingers grazed your lips as she got lost in your gaze.

“I need to hear you say it.”

It’s a demand, stern but affectionate, one that shoots a pang of desire to your core.

“I want you.”

Your courage takes over your nerves and voice what she needs, feeling your face heat at her smile of approval. Even more when she kisses you.

Your hands moved to her sides before inching for her shirt, trembling when you felt how warm her skin was. You skimmed higher as your teeth sweetly nips her jaw, your pleasure growing as her sighs get heavier.

“I want to make you feel good. Is that…do you want that,” you panted, your hands stopping short at the button of her pants, waiting for her permission.

The level of attention and devotion made a warmth bloom in her chest. It could be the heat of the moment  to get what you feel for the other out of your systems, but she’s too far gone to give it any further thought.

“Please.”

As much as you want to tease how needy she is, you knew that wasting time would deprive her and you of what you want.

She shifts her position and pulls you down with her. You’re then rushing to undress, reaching for your shirts, laughing at your clumsiness or stopping to kiss wherever you can, forgetting to strip off your clothes. Seeing how impatient she was you unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them down, your lips following their path. Feeling her skin against yours was not something you would be able to ever describe. It felt relieving, like you were deprived of the other.

Your hands ran across her inner thighs, your brain trying to remember every single detail of this moment, you don’t care if it’ll only happen once, you don’t want to forget this.

You softly bit her neck, smiling at her whines, “What is it?”

“Just touch me already,” she grunts, embarrassed at her desperation, her hips bucking up into yours.

And yet you still wouldn’t listen to her even though your senses were screaming to listen, your fingers still remaining on her thighs, moving towards where she wanted at a torturing pace. 

If only she knew you were frozen because your own body felt so many things. How you were thinking of all the ways you could please her, that you couldn’t believe she was beneath you looking so beautiful. At her complaints you were brought back to where you were, your fingers hooking on the hem of her panties, slowly sliding them down.

“I’m sorry, you’re just…so beautiful,” you couldn’t help but whisper your admiration. It was unexpected, making her break your intense gaze but you lift her face towards yours again. “How could I ever deny you?”

Carefully watching her, you cupped her heat, humming in pleasure when you felt her want for you.

Her heart raced wildly at your words. She never imagined it coming out of your mouth but she tries to memorise every pronunciation and tone.

“Please just—just touch me. I need it, need you,” her words were stumbling on each other, not bothering with being aware of how desperate she is anymore. “I won’t say it again,” she corrected and this puts an end to your prolonged slow paced touches, setting you to do what she craved.

Your fingers lightly touch between her folds, gathering her arousal until they meet her bundle of nerves. You slide your index finger, groaning with her as you feel her trap you in. You slowly pumped your digit, waiting for her to adjust before adding another.

“Oh, fuck—” she cried out as you set a steady rhythm, her hand clawing your arm while the other is on your back.

“So wet and pretty for me,” you couldn’t control yourself from holding back your admiration anymore. Not that you’d ever thought about it.

You curl your fingers as your thumb finds her bundle of nerves, circling it, and carrying out her pleasure in the way she wants. She couldn’t stop herself from crying your name, her hips bucking up to meet your touch. One of her hands grasp the sheets while the other holds on to your shoulder.

“You feel good, please don’t stop…”

No one and nothing would be able to make you to, your heart racing at the sight of her face twisted with pleasure. At each rise of her hips to meet your touch you felt a blissful stir in your abdomen, your body going wild with pleasure at seeing her chase her own. You kept every note of the way she twitches, how her breathing stutters when you change your rhythm. Watching her was like art, something only reserved for you.

“You’re doing so good for me.” 

At your praises she mutters a mixture of pleas along with your name, her mind, her senses, all focused on you. It was unfair how quick her mind was going blank and yet you happened to be the only thing that was left. Maybe it’s because you were evidently touching her or maybe it was something that ran deeper than that.

As much as you wanted to let her chase her pleasure you wanted to prolong it, not wanting it this soon. Your pace slowed down, the action not going unnoticed by her.

“Please— why did you…”

She was breathless, out of words, feeling shameful for the hint of plea in her voice. It was difficult resisting her but you didn’t let it get to you, retracting your touch from her.

“I said I’d make you feel good didn’t I,” you softly whispered, kissing her collarbones. “I want you to feel more than just that.”

Your reverence did not go unnoticed. If anything it only worsened the feelings she was trying to push down at the very back of her mind. When your gazes met, her hands traced your face. Her smile was so endearing you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her any longer. 

You buried your head at the crook of her neck, your hand inching between her legs before allowing her to feel your fingers again, having to fight back your own moans.

Her body heated up as she approached her orgasm, closely tipping over the edge, she just needed more. More of you. She pulled you away from your path of kisses on her neck back to her lips. It’s filthy, uncoordinated and clumsy but so addictive. Just as she’s tipping over the edge you pull back again, her hips lifting uselessly in the air. You gently push them back, tracing patterns on her hipbones.

“I swear you’re driving me insane,” she choked out, her mind swirling between confusion and delirious pleasure.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” you took pity on her, tracing soothing circles on her hips.

“Then do it.”

You leave kisses all over her face, to the point she’s wondering if you’re lulling her into a false sense of security. Your lips travelled towards her chest but never lower, your heart racing in anticipation as you built the courage to ask her the question that has been now plaguing your mind.

“Can I…I want to taste you,” the words rush over each other, your face flaming at the sight of her darkened gaze.

“I’d…I’d like that.”

It’s getting difficult to push down whatever feelings she has for you when you’re looking at her like that, so much that it's unfair.

Almost as if you have read her mind you kissed the tip of her nose, her lips, her chin, now confidently moving lower towards her chest and at her body. Her hips jolted up with the first careful flick of your tongue against the bundle of nerves. You pressed your hand at her lower abdomen to help stabilise her, the pressure now intertwining every time you circle your tongue around her. Your fingers found her entrance again, slowly sliding themselves into her as you curl them. Her hand held yours on her lower abdomen, holding on to it as the other found guidance at the back of your head as her legs shook around you.  

Her heart was racing at your devotion, a thought that never crossed her mind once when you were friends. Not even in her wildest dreams. Not even when you would smile at her, or brush your fingers against hers. Nothing would take you away from her, ever. Especially with the way you’re worshipping her. 

You’re sure she’s your new favourite thing to taste. You’re too caught up to even notice that she’s talking to you, her pants bringing your attention back to her face. You wanted to tease her a bit more, just once. But her glassy eyes won you over.

“I’m…I have to,” she begged, her voice broken as she’s having trouble speaking.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Let go for me. Please.”

You didn’t separate your mouth from her, your hips grinding against the bed as your groans are freely voiced, unable to control them at each of hisses of pleasure. You didn’t stop at anything, your tongue and fingers working on her, needing to see her fall apart more than anything. Before her, you had no idea your own name would sound so beautiful from someone else’s lips.

She felt so close to the edge of pleasure she’s been craving for. It came like an electroshock, her eyes fluttering close and eyebrows furrowed as curses left her mouth when you finally gave her what she’s been waiting for, your name falling over and over out of her lips.

You guided her over, slowing down your pace and carefully pulling away. Her hair is sprawled across the pillows, chest rising and falling, sweat beading on her forehead. You kissed her cheek, her jaw, waiting for her senses to come back to her. When she opens her eyes to meet yours, you are ready to get her going for you again. 

Her pleasure was still coating your fingers and you shamelessly tasted them, her thighs rubbing together at the sight. Without warning she pulled you down for a kiss that felt as intimate as when you undressed her, moaning at the remnants of her pleasure on your lips. It’s soft and like a kiss of a hidden confession. 

You smiled down at her when she pulled back for air, humming blissfully as you brushed back her hair.

“Do you need anything,” you barely even whispered, afraid that you’d ruin the calm silence.

She tried to find her voice again, her brain slowly shutting down, “But you didn’t…”

“Don’t need to. I wanted to take care of you,” you tried joking, but it was the honest truth. The thought of receiving wasn’t even on your mind, blinded by her pleasure that was simultaneously yours, “Which is also me saying whatever you want, I’ll get it.”

The way she looked at you was enough to make you crumble, countless images of her running through your mind.

Instead of answering she tiredly kissed you, moving you so that she could comfortably rest on your chest. And strangely enough you had no idea how to handle this part. 

follows you around, texts you asking you where you are. not in a clingy way, just the right sane amount of it. she wants to be reassured. it is normal, is it not? may or may not try to convince you to skip your lecture because she found a new show to hatewatch and she needs you to be here with takeout

is very affectionate. after having been deprived of touch and outside contact, she needs to give and receive love. so do not be surprised when she climbs on your lap like it is her right (it is) or when she asks you to hold her in your arms, with your hands running through her hair as you talk about your respective days. also this is not new but she absolutely loves to hold your hand, especially in public spaces. it means so much that you are not scared of her and it is somewhat of a special statement

loves to hear your praises. words of affirmation are important to her, especially moments when she self-doubts. whenever she hears a compliment, or the slightest of encouragement, it would be enough to momentarily forget about what worried her in the first place. you are her best supporter. even in her "idc outfit" days you will be the person that hypes her up at her lowest

gets so shy and flustered when she kisses you, like it is the first time all over again. usually it starts out sweet but if you were apart for too long because of training, classes or revisions, your touches would grow bolder, heated. it is embarrassing how quickly she begs but can she really be blamed? just do not tease her too much for it. she is already mortified as it is

cate dunlap pillow princess agenda. she can be a little demanding at times but you never complain. you were naturally a giver in your relationship so it was in your nature to listen. although you do have your stubborn moments, much to her (dis)pleasure

if you are an introvert you were definitely her lucky victim, the same way extroverts choose to befriend their quieter counterparts. you do go out together but she knows when your social battery is about to give out or when you are in the mood for social outings. if you happen to be an extrovert your energies are so fused together. you never really get tired and you are damn near unstoppable

the same goes if you are a reserved type of person. she will speak up for you and possibly threaten whoever it was that bothered you. we all need a protective cate in our life

steals your clothes. at some point you thought you were getting robbed but the culprit was in your dorm all along, casually wearing your sweatshirt. of course you allowed her to take what she wanted. it is practically in the girlfriend contract that she made you sign

is too gentle and sweet, it truly makes you wonder how can anyone be scared of her. because as much as she likes to put up somewhat of a tough girl look she is the kindest person ever. loves the idea of adopting a pet so that you two could be parents