#steamy

Maria nodded with her arms folded across her chest. In honesty, it was more like a shrug before she turned to you. You’d been far too relaxed in your seat since Bucky had walked inside. Just another indicator that you were trouble. And you were smiling. Smirking? 

Maybe a bit of both. 

“I was a Fed.”

“You’re a Fed?”

You shook your head. “Was. Was a Fed.”

Maria continued for you. “She graduated first in her class in everything. Field work and academics, alike. Y/n has been on our radar for a while.”

Because you were trouble.

Bucky felt Sam nudge him. “Subtitles, Buck. You might not be saying anything but we can see it on your face. I can see it on your face.” 

Bucky just scowled more. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Credentials like hers don’t come across my desk too often these days. I wanted to see if she was the real deal so I sent her to tail you two.”

Both men did a double take of Maria and yourself. “Us?!”

You laughed a little at their surprise. “Yes, you. You know, for two of the world's best Avengers you are both terrible at being secretive. In the space of three days I’ve managed to find out your routines.”

“Three-” Sam’s words spat from his mouth. “Three days?! You’ve had her following us for three days?”

Maria shrugged, again. “Told you training was coming soon. Gotta find a way to keep you both of your toes.”

It was then Sam’s turn to scowl. He understood why, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Three days? He and Buck had been followed for three days by-by-by a, a what, a teeneger?

It was only when you replied, “I’m in my 20s.”, did Sam realise he’d said his question out loud. 

“You’re a fetus.” Bucky said before looking at you. Biologically, he might be in his 30s. But his birthday was over a hundred years ago. 

You just smiled at him. 

“Y/n’s gonna be joining your team.” 

“What?” Bucky asked, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned back to Maria. 

“Relax, Sergeant Barnes.” He looked back at you. “I’ll mostly be working alongside Captain Torres. As fun as field work can be, I’m a lot more useful to both of you behind a monitor. So, if you ever need anything hacking. Government secrets? Secret chambers? That dating profile Sam set up in your honour?” 

Nearly giving himself whiplash again, Bucky looked at Sam. And, as guiltless as he tried to look, he failed. He’d set him a dating profile up? When?!

“You just let me know,” you smiled.  “Am I free to go, Director?”

Maria nodded. “Bishop agreed to meet you outside your apartment to help you get settled in.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” Then you turned back to your new teammates. “See you boys on Wednesday.”

That had been almost three years ago. It had taken all of twenty minutes for Bucky to adopt your new nickname. Trouble. In the beginning, it had been because he thought that’s what you were; trouble. Bad news. But, after a while, you started to wear him down. 

It had taken a week for Sam to get used to you, and less than five minutes for Torres. He liked the way you kept “the grump” as you called him, on his toes. 

Eventually the nickname of Trouble moved away from hatred to a little more affectionate. It did take you entering field duty again without letting anyone know, saving both Bucky and Sam’s lives when they got cornered in a run down mansion out in the middle of nowhere. 

But never once had you forced a smile at the nickname. So, when you said “Morning, Buck.”, Bucky stopped in his tracks. He looked up from his clipboard, silently watching you for a moment. 

Even if your entire body wasn’t dripping with sweat as you continued to pummel the swinging punching bag in front of you, and even if your hair hadn’t been frizzing out from your rough ponytail as the back of your head; Bucky still would have known you were stressed. 

You never forced a smile around him. You’d been exasperated, tired, exhausted, angry, kind, loveable, happy, joyful, excited and every other emotion around him. But never once had you faked a smile around him. 

Around others? Sure. That was how he knew this one was fake. 

“Hold your horses.” Bucky said as he walked closer to you. 

You sighed, pulling your punches from the bag before finally standing still. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing-” You started, shaking your head. But he wasn’t biting. 

“No, not nothing. What’s going on? You’re glaring at the bag like it owes you six months rent. What’s going on?”

You sighed, completely exhausted. “Nothing, Buck. It’s fine. I swear.”

“Trouble?”

You looked at Bucky. 

For as long as you’d been alive, you’d been able to read people. Their inner thoughts, their deepest feelings. But nobody had ever been able to read you. 

Until Bucky. 

Sam tried his best, as did Torres. And, credit where credit is due, they did well. But that was only when you weren’t trying to hide it. A long day at work? A show ending the way you didn’t want it to? 

But days like this? 

You’d gone all week without letting people see. And you knew they couldn’t see. But Bucky? It was like he could see right into your soul. 

And it scared the crap outta you. 

“Bucky…” Your voice was soft, pleading for him not to dig. 

It took all of thirty seconds for him to look away from you, looking at the ceiling with a short sigh. “Alright, come on.”

Taking you by the shoulder, he stepped you away from the punching bag and hooked the clipboard under his arm before taking your wrapped hands into his. Then he started to unravel the bandages. He could already see the small bruises on your knuckles. 

“You’re gonna need to ice them.” 

He said nothing else as he unravelled your hands. Then, he took hold of one. He dropped the clipboard on the bench as he walked you both over to your gym bag before dropping your wraps into it. 

“Bucky-”

“Come with me.”

“Buck- Bucky.” You looked around you, confused as to why he was dragging you out of the gym. “James!”

He pulled you beside him before pressing a gentle hand on your lower back. 

“This feels like ‘The Quiet Man’. Where the hell are we going?”

“I’m getting you out of the compound.”

You almost started jogging beside him. “Okay, I get you’ve been trying to fire me since day one but you don’t actually have that authority.”

Well, at least you were still joking with him. Even if he had tried in the early stages, he hadn’t tried to get you fired in over two years. 

Eventually you stopped arguing, simply sighing and saying, “Fuck it.”

Whether he was gonna try and fire you, kidnap you or drag you to a church in Ireland to get married; it was better than staying in the compound, throwing punches hard enough to break the bag for a second time. 

Two hours later, Bucky’s motorbike was parked up in the dirt road behind you both as you sat beside each other, your legs hanging over the edge of the grassy hill. 

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked as you were half way through your food. 

You nodded, a lot calmer than you were back at the compound. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Then after a beat, he spoke up again. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged. “Not much to say.”

“I think the punching bag might disagree.”

Bucky watched as a smile flexed subtly on your face. But after a split second, it disappeared. Your shoulders, somehow, dropped lower and you shook your head. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Then start at the beginning.”

“I’m starting to regret showing you the movies you missed.” 

Bucky chuckled to himself quietly. Since you had become friends…kinda…you’d taken it upon yourself. Or rather, you and Joaquin, had taken it upon yourselves, with Sam’s help, to bring Bucky up to speed on everything he’d missed since being in the ice. 

It was on the nights when it was just you and him; maybe Sam was called away by his sister or his fiance, or Joaquin went to see his family. It was on those nights where you’d show Bucky the true classics. The ones he would have secretly loved if he’d gotten a chance to see them when they first got released. 

They were some of his favourite memories with you. 

Taking in a breath, you tried to work out in your head where the beginning was. 

“Work’s kinda taking its toll on me.” Finally admitting that outloud felt a lot easier than you’d thought it would. Bucky seemed to always have that effect on you. He made things easier. “I, uh, I’ve been asked to guest lecture at my old Training Academy and they keep trying to make me agree to a full time contract. The students apparently have learnt a lot and it makes their attendance records look better than they have done in years. Though, I’m pretty sure they only attended the lecture in the hopes that Joaquin would turn up again.”

Bucky just sat and listened to you as you looked out to the rest of the city. 

“I enjoy doing them, and I know the students like asking questions some of the teachers won’t answer directly. But between the missions, and the intel gathering. That’s taking me a lot longer than it used to, by the way and I hate it. I used to be able to crack open almost anything. But since tech development or whatever…criminals are a lot smarter than they used to be when it comes to their encryption.”

You took a few more breaths before continuing. 

“My family has been calling more and more recently, too. Don’t get me wrong. I-I love em’. But…” You let out a long breath. “It’s everyday. They’re asking for new information and I don’t have it. I’ve had a good day – that’s all I can say. I’m not dead. I spend my day going over lines and lines of data. What the fuck am I meant to say? And then I got an invite through my door last week inviting me to my cousin’s wedding and the phone calls from home have basically tripled. I’ve had to switch my answering machine off. They were filling it; have you got the invite yet? When are you gonna reply? You’re gonna be sitting next to your aunt from your dad’s side, you know I can’t stand that woman. Have you got your dress yet? Your dress is important, you need to look your best for the photos, Grandma will want ten copies, have you got a date yet? Do you need a date? Do you want me to ask your cousin if she has any single friends? Or maybe her fiance knows somebody? You can’t come to a wedding alone. Or maybe it’s best, that way we can help you find someone-”

Bucky laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, okay. Okay, breathe. Deep breaths.”

You took some more deep breaths. 

“It’s a never ending cycle, Buck. I-I go from one extreme to the other and…and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I love my family, but right now I can’t think of anything worse than flying home and seeing them right now. And, as much as I love my work, I’d rather wait before I see another line of data.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a while. He just studied you. The way your shoulders fell, the way your true feelings and pure exhaustion took over your expression, the way your voice dropped from the hurried pace from earlier. 

“You’re burning yourself out.”

Now, you finally looked at him. 

“You need to take a break. Call Hill in the morning and tell her you’re taking two weeks. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you.” 

“But we’ve got-”

“The next mission won’t happen until next month. But you need a break. Y/n. And as for your family, what if I went with you?”

“What?”

“Take me as your date.”

A small laugh escaped you. “Bucky, you don’t-”

“What?” He leaned back, his expression teasing. “Too handsome?”

“It’s not that-”

“Too old?” Bucky gave a short gasp. “I gotta tell ya, that’s ageist.”

You laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Why not? You’re my friend.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?”

Bucky shrugged. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

You smiled, softly. 

“Come on, what could go wrong?”

You nodded, slowly. “My family will meet you and never want to let you go, that’s what.”

Bucky just shrugged again. “Can’t help it. Mom’s love me.”

“Bucky, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And I’m telling you to take the offer.”

You remained silent as you kept your eyes on him. Bucky watched as you bit your bottom lip pensively, like you were running through every worse case scenario before getting to the good ones. 

“Come on,” he whispered. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Finally, you agreed. “Okay.”

For the next two weeks, you spent most of your time relaxing, completing the jobs in your apartment you’d ignored over time and dress shopping for the wedding that would be taking place in two months time. 

By the time you got back to work, things felt less like a tsunami being thrown over you and after the mission, a wedding with your family didn’t seem too terrible. 

“Do I have to wear a bow-tie?” Bucky called out from the hotel room as you remained in the bathroom, fixing your make-up. 

You’d left him twenty minutes ago to get dressed. 

“According to the invite, it’s compulsory.” 

You heard Bucky groan a little before swearing at what you gathered was either himself, the invite or the bow-tie. 

“Why couldn’t it be a normal tie?”

“Because my cousin loves the idea of Old Hollywood.”

“Technically, when I went into the ice it was just known as Hollywood. And we wore ties.”

You chuckled, putting your lipstick brush down before quickly blotting your lips twice. Throwing the tissue into the bin by the door, you walked out of the bathroom, around and around the corner and back into your shared hotel room. 

“Parts of culture have been lost to time sadly, so bow-ties it is,” you said as you came into view. “Come here. I’ll do it.”

Bucky had caught a glimpse of you in the mirror, but seeing the real you. Not the reflected version…that was something else entirely. The colour complimented you in a way he’d never seen before, and the way it hugged and draped on your body was making his mind think things that he shouldn’t be thinking about his friend and co-worker. 

You were stunningly gorgeous. 

As you stood in front of him, so close that if he leaned forward just a touch, he could press his lips to yours,  his senses becoming filled with you and his hands itched to touch you. To hold you by your waist or your hips, just to keep you standing so close to him. 

“There.” You leaned back a little before looking at him with that smile that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, had made him weak at the knees since the first day he’d met you. 

With your hands braced on his shoulders, you turned him around to face the mirror. “You look handsome.”

It wasn’t a genuine compliment covered up by a joke. You weren’t teasing him. 

You were being genuinely honest. 

And you tried to ignore the way he looked at you and the feelings it gave you in your chest, but meeting his eyes in the mirror only seemed to make that feeling grow. 

You hadn’t missed the way Bucky had stopped as you entered the room and how it took him a moment before his body kicked back into gear in order to stand in front of you. But you tried to ignore what you were feeling at seeing him dressed the way he was. 

Often he was in henley t-shirts and jeans when he wasn’t in his field uniform. So, seeing him all clean cut and in a tux was making you feel things. Since the henley’s were almost every day, you’d been able to, over the years, make yourself slightly immune to the feelings they gave you. 

But you’d never seen him in a tux. 

Even if you didn’t know he’d been in his 20s in the forties, seeing him dressed like this would have given you the feeling that he definitely had been in a past life. 

“We better go before we’re late.”

Bucky tried to find comprehensible words to say. The best he could come up with was, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t until the reception that he would finally be able to tell you how beautiful he found you. 

The wedding had been beautiful, every corner of the wedding venue being draped in silk. The dinner had gone off without a hitch. You and Bucky were seated together and despite the judgy comments from your aunt, Bucky held your hand throughout the entire thing, answering each question your aunt threw at him. 

And by the time people were invited onto the dance floor after the bride and groom, your aunt, happy with your choice of a date, nudged him to ask you to do as much. 

All he did was hold out his hand and looking from him, to the dance floor and back again, you took his hand. 

“I, uh, I don’t-” 

Bucky said nothing. With a light smirk on his face, he did what he’d wanted to do all night. Well, one of the things. 

Stepping into you, his hand firmly on your waist, he gently threw one of your hands to his shoulder before holding your other one firmly in his. 

“Okay.” Bucky heard you say quietly. 

His light smirk formed a small smile. “I might not know how to tie a bow-tie, but I do know how to dance.”

You nodded. “That. Is. Clear.”

You felt a little awkward, trying to keep your head away from the thoughts it was spilling into. 

Bucky chuckled and you felt his gravelly breath by the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, doll. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

You did, eventually, manage to relax a little as the song bled on. And, just as it started to feel easy and natural to be held by him in this way, his words sent both your head and your heart into a spin. 

“You’re gorgeous, by the way.” You leaned your head back a little to look at him. Was he fucking with you? “Stunning.”

You were thankful the lights were dimmer than they had been at dinner. It gave you at least a little cover for the heat that overtook your cheeks. 

“Thank you.”

Nothing else was said after that. You couldn’t keep looking at him, in fear that if you looked at him for too long, he’d be able to see right through you. 

So, with your temple resting against his, you let him lead you in a slow dance along with the rest of the couples. 

A little ways through the dance, you felt Bucky’s hand on your waist dip a little lower and onto your hip before moving to your back where you could feel his fingers softly trailing up and down your back against your dress. 

You felt yourself shiver at his touch. 

Bucky smirked a little by the shell of your ear. “Cold?”

When you spoke, your voice felt a little strangled to your ears. “No.”

You heard a small hum from his chest before he pulled you closer, or maybe you stepped closer to him, and his fingers softly continued to trail up and down. 

A few songs later, both you and Bucky sitting at a new table that your mother had dragged you to, you were asked to dance with someone your uncle had dragged over to meet you. And throughout your entire dance with the new guy, you just wished you were back in Bucky’s arms. 

However, as you danced, you failed to notice the way he was looking at you. But your cousin hadn’t. When Bucky’s eyes fell on you, he had a mixed look in them. Complete adoration and love, and that he could eat you alive. But when his eyes fell on the guy you were slightly awkwardly dancing with, a darker look took over. 

Jealousy. 

You’d told her that you’d be bringing a date, and from what your family had told her, your date was just a friend. But having watched both of you dance, and the way Bucky was looking at you…you certainly were not ‘just’ friends. 

And even if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. 

Then Bucky stood, carefully making his way over to you. And the look in your eyes when you spotted him making his way over…

Your cousin was certain the next wedding she would be attending would be yours.

“Mind me cutting in?”

The guy shook his head and stepped back, saying quiet words of kindness to you. But once you found yourself in Bucky’s arms, you felt yourself melt. 

“Thank you.”

“You looked like you had a stone in your shoes, trying to dance with him.”

“That’s kinda what it felt like. Glad to know I’ve got acting skills to fall back on if I ever want to quit. Or if you get me fired.”

“I’ll only get you fired if you start causing trouble, Trouble.”

A light smile appeared on your lips for a few seconds before you disappeared into his shoulder to hide your face from him. 

Two more dances and a conversation split between three different groups later, you were ready to go home. You said goodbye to your cousin, both you and Bucky complimenting her and the wedding before taking your leave. 

By the time you got back to the hotel, taking your heels off in the lobby, thankful to feel the cold marble floor beneath your feet, the clock was starting to reach midnight. 

Bucky took your hand in his, leading you to the elevator. And where you both could have stood opposite each other, without thinking, he pulled you into his side. Both of you stood in the centre of the elevator, Bucky leaned over and pressed the button to your floor. 

In the silence, Bucky watching the numbers climb higher and higher, you took time to look at him. The shape of him, his jawline. He’d taken his jacket off and given it to you on the walk inside to the hotel. The bow-tie was now loose and around his neck. 

“You’re staring.”

For the first time that night, you didn’t look away from him. 

“Can’t help it.”

Bucky looked back at you just before the doors to the elevator rang open. There was a soft smirk resting on his lips. 

“Come on, Trouble.”

Leading you out of the elevator, you pulled the hotel room key from your purse before sliding it into the door. With a beep, the latch unlocked itself and you pushed the handle down and Bucky helped you push the door open. 

The entire room was quiet. The moonlight floated behind the soft curtains, lighting up a few spaces on the carpet. The room remained quiet as you and Bucky walked around before he opened up the two dividing doors that led to his bedroom. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watched the muscles in his back tense as he opened the two doors and walked inside. And, despite wishing to stay and watch the show of Bucky getting undressed, you moved towards your bathroom. Zipping down the side panel zip, you let the gown fall to the floor before you pulled the clean pajamas you’d left on the counter over your head and up your legs. 

Despite the hour, you and Bucky stayed up a little longer to talk. He was back in a henley shirt and some long plaid pajama bottoms. 

The same ones you’d bought him when you’d been his Secret Santa two years ago. 

Your make-up had long been washed away and you and Bucky spent at least forty minutes gossiping about what the third cousin on your mom’s side had been wearing in replace of a hat. 

Then you had to say your goodnights. 

Only, as he closed the dividing door behind him, you felt like something was missing. You wanted him to stay. You wanted to keep talking to him. You wanted him…you wanted him to touch you the same way he had done on the dance floor, his voice gravelly by your ear, sending goosebumps across your body in a way nobody had ever done before. 

Little did you know, Bucky wanted the same. 

He could hear your footsteps on the carpet behind the door. The soft light from the lamp in your room shone under the door and he could see your shadow walking back and forth. Each time you walked back to the door, so did he. Only to then see it walk away, so he did the same. 

For the fifth time, you walked back towards Bucky’s door. Except, before you could walk back across the rest of your room, the door opened. 

And there he was. In the glow of moonlight from his own room, barely six feet from you. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just letting the silent conversation pass between you. 

“I don’t want tonight to end.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them, or reword them. But you didn’t need to. If anyone understood you, it was Bucky. 

You didn’t know who moved first, but barely a second later, Bucky’s hands were pushing through your hair, pulling you closer as his lips crashed against yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you pulled him closer before fisting his t-shirt. 

A moan vibrated from his chest as you pulled him closer, letting his kiss deepen. His finger ran through the lengths of your hair, gently pulling. 

As his steps carried him forward, yours carried you back until eventually he spun you, lifting you into his arms. Feeling your back secure against the wall, his hands supporting you, your body rocked against his hips as he leaned forward, driving your own further into the wall. 

You moaned a little as his tongue slipped past your lips and his fingers squeezed at your flesh. 

“Seriously,” he muttered out, just at a whisper, “don’t touch me like that Y/N.” 

You look at him with confusion. “Like what?” 

He swallowed hard. Eyes with desperation. 

“Like you would care,” he said, breath warm against your cheek. 

“Because it’s doing something to me and I can’t tell if it's the bite or-” 

Your heart thumped fastly. “Or what?” 

He lifted a trembling hand, like he had wanted to touch your face but kept hovering an inch from you.  

“Or the way I already feel about you,” Steve admitted, voice shaking from honesty.  

Your chest had tightened, but you held fixed.  

“Steve you are burning up. The bite is messing with your head.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed loudly, leaning closer to your face. Noses brushing against each other with tension. “It’s making everything feel stronger. Every instinct, Every feeling. When you’re this close I-” 

Steve broke with a shudder, squeezing his eyes shut to hold something overpowering back. 

“Please,” he whispered, “just... Just hurry before I lose it.”  

Not “lose control” in a dangerous way but in the way someone does when they can’t hide something they want anymore.  

You swallowed, nodding in agreement. 

“Okay. I’m going to tighten this fabric so stay with me.” 

Your touch was wary as you tightened the fabric around his waist. Steve still trembled under your touch. Every brush of a fingertip sent him into this intense reaction. His breath hitched; shoulders tense with him. 

“Y/N,” he murmured, voice thick, “you don’t know what you are doing to me.” 

Oh, but you did.  

You felt exactly the same way. 

This moment was more about saving his life. The tension between you two crackled hotter than anything in the Upside down.  

You finish tightening the fabric when Steve's hand suddenly closes around your wrist.  

Not tight. 

But just enough to catch you in your movement. 

Your breath catches. 

He’s looking at you again -the same desperate, conflicted, overwhelmed look. He seems to be fighting between leaning in or holding himself back.  

“Y/N..” he murmurs, voice gravelly. “You’re really close.” 

“I have to be Steve,” you whisper. “You’re hurt, remember.” 

Steve shakes his head, eyes flicking to your lips without being subtle.  

“No. Not for that. I-” 

He cuts himself off, jaw tense, like the words are trying to force themselves out.  

You feel his fingers slide slowly from your wrist up your arm, leaving this trail of warmth. His touch is hesitant but desperate at the same time. It’s almost guided by this instinct he clearly isn’t used to. You inhale sharply, and that makes him snap.  

Steve leans forward. 

Not lunging. 

In the way of being drawn to you.  

Your gravity pulls him into you. 

His forehead is so close to yours.  

Breath hitting your lips.  

Your heart is thumping so loudly you’re almost sure he can hear it. 

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers. 

You don’t. 

You can’t. 

His other hand lifts, shaking, and he cups your cheek with a softness that condricts this raw desperation that is in his eyes. His thumb brushes across your skin, and you swear every nerve in your body is lighting up. 

“Steve...” you breathe. 

He dips closer. 

So, close his nose brushes against yours, so close you feel the unspoken tension tightening between you like a wire pulled to its limit. 

Then. 

“STEVE? Y/N?!” 

You both jolt and jump away from each other like you’ve been electrocuted. 

Steve pulls back so quickly he winces in pain. You scramble to your feet, face burning, heart racing. Robin bursts through the trees. Crazy eyed and breathless. 

“There you guys are, if you wandered off to-” 

She freezes. 

Looks at Steve. 

Looks at You. 

Looks back at Steve’s flushed face and the way he’s staring at you like he forgot everything else in the world. 

Her eyebrows slowly rose. 

“Oh. Did I interrupt something?” 

“NO.” you say immediately. 

“Yes.” Steve mumbles under his breath. 

You shoot him a glance with firmness, but he gives a helpless, heated, flustered smile that says he absolutely meant it. 

Robin blinks, then claps her hands together. “Okay! Great! Love that for you two. But maybe can we flirt after we aren’t in mortal danger?” 

You help Steve to his feet, trying not to notice how he sways toward you like his body is being attracted to you like a magnet. 

He notices your stare and leans in just enough that only you can hear him. 

“This isn’t over.” He whispers. 

And the worst part? 

Pov y/n

It's hard to contain myself when I hear Wanda's key jiggling outside of our door. I try to look nonchalant as I sit on our couch in the living room.

I'm always excited to see Wanda after a day of work, even more so when we didn't have lunch together. Today, she was out with a colleague to have lunch, which was totally okay with me as it gave me plenty of time to plan my prank on her. 

When it comes to pranks, I am always careful as I know there are some pranks that go too far and I would never want to cross any boundaries Wanda has. Most of them I know, some I don't, so I make sure the pranks I pull, which are very, very few, are never too bad. 

The front door opens and Wanda walks into the hallway, closing the door and locking it behind her. None of us has any plans this evening, so we might as well lock the door right away. I grab my phone from where I threw it onto the couch and pretend to be scrolling, just a normal evening.

"Honey, I'm home," Wanda calls, her soft voice almost instantly making me smile. While I'm used to being alone in our apartment, most of the time I'm in home office, it feels different once I am done with work and waiting for her return.

"I'm in the living room," I call back and turn my head when Wanda enters. Her red hair falls softly around her face, her eyes bright and lips pulled into a radiant smile when our eyes meet.

"I missed you today," she tells me and tilts her head down to give me a kiss in greeting. I kiss her back and hum, pulling my legs up so she can settle on the couch as well.

"I missed you too. How was lunch?" I drape my legs back over hers, relaxing into the cushions. Wanda's hand mindlessly traces up and down my shin, her touch soft. She's still wearing her rings, so she came in here without a short stop in our bedroom. I've always admired her rings as they look crazy sexy on her fingers and I've never been able to wear more than one. Otherwise, it feels like there is too much going on between my fingers and I feel like I'm not appreciating the single ring properly. 

Wanda tells me about lunch, going into details while I nod and hum along, offering little questions in between. All the while, her hands continue to trace lines and shapes on my legs and I relax even further. Apart from all the other things I love about her, I love her subconscious little actions so much. Could be the twisting of one of her rings around her finger, or a soft humming while cooking, the pursing of her lips when she concentrates, the way she twirls a strand of my hair around her finger when we watch a movie and she plays with my hair, or her soft touches whenever I'm close. 

She says so much with so little actions and I love it. 

"How was your day?" She asks in return, her green eyes meeting mine with softness that always makes my heart melt. I always thought I was tough and wouldn't budge for anyone, but Wanda has me wrapped around her finger as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Whatever she wants, she gets and I will move mountains if I have to. Making my girl happy is one of my favorite things to do. 

Not that we never fight, we do sometimes, but that's normal in relationships and we always work it out.

"Pretty calm. Had a few meetings in the morning, which were rather boring. I'm telling you, online meetings are not it," I sigh and shake my head. While I like working from home, it does come with a few disadvantages. "My concentration just doesn't last as long and I feel like I am speaking to nobody in particular and just to an audience of people who don't like it either."

Wanda nods, gently squeezing my leg. It's not the first time I told her about this, however, she always stays patient and allows me to talk about it as much as I need or want to.

"The afternoon was calmer though and I got everything done. I did some chores around the house and finally cleaned our windows." At that, Wanda chuckles. I've been putting that off forever as I hate the extra work of clearing the windowsill and having to climb onto a step ladder to reach the top of the windows. Wanda is taller than me, so she reaches them easier, but hates the way her hands smell afterwards, even through gloves. So, it's my responsibility to clean the windows while hers lay elsewhere.

"I did feel like there was more light coming into the room," she teases and stretches her face towards the window, as if there was any light coming in now. It's dark outside as she had a later day at work and got caught up talking to a co-worker of hers. I received a short message about is, so I wouldn't worry about her whereabouts. 

I poke her thigh with my toe and hold back a smile.

"I also added a few things to our grocery list. We definitely need to go tomorrow." Wanda nods, hands trailing over my legs again. It might sound stupid, but I love doing chores with her. It makes them so much better because nothing with her is ever boring or dull.

"What did you have for lunch?" I bite back another grin, knowing we're getting to the point I was hoping for. 

"I bought something while I was out." Wanda hums, if a little surprised. "You were out for lunch?" 

I shake my head, linking my hands together to prevent them from fidgeting and giving me away. "No, I went out for something else and grabbed a bite to eat on my way back home." Wanda just nods, waiting for me to continue. Keep it cool, pretend like this is actually true.

"I went to a tattoo parlor." Wanda's eyes widen, lips parting.

"To accompany a friend, I hope?" 

I shake my head and her hands stop on my legs, gripping them. I know how she views tattoos. She doesn't like them, which never bothered me as I was never planning on getting a tattoo anyway and if I was, I would talk to her about it beforehand. She doesn't like the thought of pain being caused to have something inked on your body forever. Something, you can't just remove if you dislike it. Piercings are okay, as you can remove those and carry on, but tattoos will stay forever. 

While I don't share that dislike, I also don't mind it. Today, I am playing with it though.

"Y/n," she says, voice carrying an edge. She has a friend who got a tattoo as a teenager and since she couldn't go to an official place without a parent's slip, she did it somewhere else and it got badly infected. Apparently, she had her boyfriends handprint tattooed to her hip. Wanda never told me the reason and I think she doesn't really know it either. Anyway, they broke up and her friend ended up hating the tattoo as her boyfriend had cheated on her. Ever since, Wanda dislikes tattoos, even more so tattoos that are connected to people in your life.

Maybe this prank is a little mean, but I'm sure she can laugh about it once she knows the truth. "I got a tattoo. Do you want to see it?" I try my best innocent voice, as if I wasn't aware of whatever is going on inside her. Even if I wasn't, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out as it mirrors very clearly on her face. 

After a long breath, she rolls her shoulders back and nods. "Sure." 

I pull my legs off her lap and stand up, loosening my pants to push them down, exposing my hip right above where it meets my thigh. A risky place, I am well aware. 

Wanda's eyes grow even bigger and I can see the shock on her face. In curved letters, her name is staring back at her from my hip. To set this up, I asked a friend of mine who works at a tattoo parlor, if she could help me with it. They do a drawing of the tattoo first, to make sure it's in the right place and she assured me, it can look like a real tattoo and doesn't rub off easily either. 

"Do you like it?" I put on a smile and look at Wanda. She clearly doesn't and is struggling for words. If this was a real tattoo, there wasn't anything she could do about it and talking badly about it would only make the whole situation more difficult.

"Why did you get my name?" 

Solid question. One I expected. I know her very well after being her girlfriend for two years and went through all possible questions or comments she could make to be prepared.

"Because I'm yours," I beam, tracing the outside of the 'tattoo' with my finger. "I figured, I'd carry it on my hip. It's like when you make a hickey, just permanently." Wanda's eyes flicker from the tattoo to my face.

"That is not the same, y/n. I make hickeys because I like the way they look on you and because I like marking you in that sense." She gestures almost helplessly at the tattoo. "That's totally different. It's permanent and it will always link you to me. I can't imagine a life without you and still, it feels too..." She flings her hand around, voice now almost desperate as she searches for words. I almost feel bad about my prank. Almost.

"I know, but I thought this would be like one of your markings too. It will just not vanish after a few days. Don't you like it?"

She rubs her hand over her face and meets my eyes again. Then she reaches out and gently touches the skin on my hip that isn't carrying her name.

"I wish, you would have told me beforehand," she stirs away from my question before leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss above the tattoo. I shiver slightly at the touch, it's in one of my most sensitive areas. Perhaps, that plays into Wanda's assessing too. 

"Do you hate it?" 

She glances up at me. "I don't hate anything about your body, baby."

She's too sweet about this, I can't fool her any longer. I cup her cheek with one hand. "It's okay if you hated it, it's not real."

"What?" 

"It's not real, it's drawn on. After a shower or two it'll be gone again." Wanda sits back, staring at me as if she was trying to comprehend my words. "It's a fake tattoo. April fools!" I grin, rubbing over the writing of her name. "It'll be gone soon, nothing that'll stay forever."

Wanda still stares at me, though the confusion makes room for another emotion. She shakes her head before locking eyes with me, raising an eyebrow. "You really had me thinking you got a tattoo of my name."

Now I grin for real. "Yeah, duh. That was the whole point."

Her eyes flash with something and her hands grab my hips, pulling me onto her lap in a quick motion. I almost stumble into her but catch myself with my hands on her shoulders.

"You like the thought of being marked as mine that much, my darling?" Her voice is lower now, almost raspy and sends a shiver down my spine. 

"Well, you are the one marking me, so I figured you are the one enjoying it," I say with a cocky grin. Wanda tilts her head ever so slightly to the side, hands holding on to me tighter.

"Didn't answer my question." My teeth sink into my lip and I have to contain a noise at the tone in her voice. Am I puddy in her hands? Totally. Will I still try to stand my ground? ... maybe?

"I thought you-" I cut myself off at the look in her eyes. They are darker now, but not a dangerous kind of dark. Well not really anyway. "Yes," I whisper, caving in the end. 

Wanda smirks and captures my lips in a deep kiss. I kiss her right back, slightly surprised by the fever of this kiss. Her tongue sweeps over my lips and I happily grant her entrance, which she takes advantage of instantly, swirling her tongue around my mouth and taking my breath away with the way she kisses me. I gasp into her mouth when her hands squeeze my hips and she pulls me into her, pressing her hands into my back and me against her, leaving close to no room between us. 

"So, you like the thought of me marking you, huh?" Wanda murmurs against my lips, trailing kisses from my lips up my jaw and to my ear. My breath catches in my throat when she kisses the sensitive spot right beneath my ear.

I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side, allowing her better access. My hands aimlessly grab her shoulders and twirl her hair. My body feels hot, her breath even hotter against my skin. "You like being mine?" 

I whimper ever so softly when her teeth graze over my sensitive spot, my heartrate picking up and I have trouble thinking about anything but her lips on my neck and her hands on my back.

"Yes, Wanda," I whine and gasp when her teeth dig into my skin. 

"And you thought it would be a good idea to prank me in getting that fake tattoo?" Her hand moves to my hip, pushes into my pants to trace the writing of her name. I'm ready to scream, the heat pooling between my legs. I want her so badly. It's almost embarrassing how quickly she can turn me on and how little it takes to get me to want her more than anything else.

"I thought it would be fun," I admit with ragged breaths. She traces her tongue over where she just bit my skin and places a kiss there, which feels way too intense, making me want to melt.

"Oh, we can do something fun," she husks into my ear and I almost moan.

"Yeah?" I whisper back in a hoarse voice.

"Mh-hm," she hums and nibbles at my earlobe, sending little electric bolts through me. 

"Go to the bedroom and strip. Wait for me." I meet her eyes, the green in them overtaken by her blown pupils, and squirm. Someone is aroused. 

"Okay," I agree and lean forward to steal another kiss before scooting off her lap and standing up. Wanda watches me, raising an eyebrow when I continue to stand. I playfully roll my eyes and make my way to the bedroom. It takes less than a minute until I'm undressed and ready for her to return.

I can hear her walk around the apartment and to the bathroom. Listening very closely, I hear water running and nod to myself. Then I turn to our bed and roll the duvet to the side, making room for whatever Wanda has planned. Whatever it is, I highly doubt it's the kind of love-making we will do under the sheets. Those times are always very soft and filled with gentle touches. Yearning and pressing to reach each other, grinding to get that perfect friction. Fingers dancing over skin, lips ghosting over my body. 

This doesn't feel like it will be that kind of night and I am totally on board. While I love the soft sex we have, I love it just as much when she takes charge and gives me that almost stern look that has me melting. I also like it, when it's the other way around. When she winds underneath me, whining to be touched while I pin her wrists above her head. She trusts me fully in those moments and I love watching her falls apart when I fuck her like that. So yeah, it's pretty equal, but I know very well what kind of sex we are approaching today and I am excited. Evidently. 

I crawl onto the bed and flop down in the middle, rolling to be on my back, pushing myself up onto my elbows to have the door insight. Just lying here, waiting for her to return adds to my excitement and I have to keep myself from squirming and touching myself. Something tells me, Wanda wants to be the one to touch me tonight and I am more than okay with it, as she can play quite the cruel game. 

One time, she had me all naked on bed and told me to touch myself, fuck myself while she was watching and telling me what to do. It was so hot and at the same time, I was so desperate. We got a little caught up in the whole thing and I ended up exhausted and spent, her fingers buried inside me and her tongue invading my mouth, swallowing every moan. Just thinking about that night heats my skin up and I press the backs of my hands against my cheeks in a weak attempt to cool them. 

Upon hearing steps, my attention returns to the door and my mouth falls open when I see Wanda again. She is wearing a black bra with matching underwear and nothing else. I can see every curve of her body, almost all of her beautiful skin. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, giving her a somewhat stern look. 

Her eyes are hot as they scan my body while she steps closer and I do not miss the flicker of affection in her eyes, hiding under the smirk. No matter how steamy, or partwise kinky we get, I can always tell she loves me so much and appreciates me in every possible way. Which is one of the reasons I don't worry about trying something new with her. I trust her with my life and know she will always understand and stop if I didn't like something. 

"You look so pretty," she compliments me, the hint of affection now wavering in her voice too. I smile, a blush forming on my lips. It doesn't matter how long we are together and how often she told me this already, I think I will always blush when she tells me how beautiful I look when I am at my most vulnerable and bare. Not once has she ever hesitated about anything concerning my body, showing me, she truly loves every part of me and wouldn't change anything. 

Her hands slide over my feet and up my shins and I have to fight the urge to squirm really hard. Slowly and sexily elegant, she gets on the bed, hands trailing over my knees and thighs and I bite my lip hard from containing a sigh. Her touch can be so innocent at times and then in moments like this, every small connection between our bodies makes me crave her so much more and to an extend that feels impossible.

"Are you up for some fun, my love?" she asks, hands reaching my hips, thumb following the lines of her name. 

"Yes," I whisper, trying to find more of my voice but it's lost somewhere in my throat. 

Her eyes flicker up to mine and despite the situation and my desire for her touch, I smile and reach out a hand to pull her in, kissing her softly. Wanda kisses me back just like that, soft and lovingly, as if she wasn't just causing my body to burn up like fire.

"Good. You remember your safe word and everything?" She mutters against my lips.

"I do and I will let you know if I need it," I promise, which earns me another soft kiss. I never had to use my safe word, never even got close as I trust she will not overdo it. Wanda is the person who knows my body better than me and can read most of my body language perfectly. She will notice a twitch of my fingers, the pinching of my mouth, a lift in my eyebrow and always know what it's about. There is no one I could be safer with than her.

"Good," she hums and pecks my lips again before pulling away. Her hands still rest on my waist, touch soft and hot. Then she leans back, eyes traveling over my body before settling on the tattoo again. 

"If you wanted to be marked as mine, you could've just said so," she says in that seductive voice of hers that always gets me going. I reach down, sliding my hand over hers.

"It's the first of April, I had to have a little bit of fun." I feel a hint of boldness, which Wanda meets with a raised eyebrow and a tip of her head. 

"Then I think it's my time to have some fun," she decides and in a swift motion grabs both my wrists and pins them next to my head. I squeak in surprise and let a giggle slip. Wanda grins at that and gently squeezes my wrists. 

"Those stay here." 

"What if I move them down?" Down implying touching myself. 

"Then I will bend you over my knee and spank your ass."

"You won't." 

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, I wouldn't, but I would just walk away and let you deal with this on your own."

I pout at her words, that would truly be mean. "Fine," I agree and get a quick smile and another kiss. "Good girl."

Wanda scoots to sit next to my legs and hooks her hands underneath my knees to pull my feet up. Then she tilts them open, gently pushing my legs apart to bare me to her. I squirm in pure excitement, watching her face closely. 

"Does the thought of being mine turn you on?" She asks, settling between my legs and I feel a second pulse starting down there, aching for her to touch me.

"It does," I admit, hands curling the sheets underneath me. She hums approvingly, hands running down my thighs and dangerously close to where I want her. One hand moves closer and she pushes a single finger between my folds, moving it around my wetness and making me very aware of how turned on I am for her.

"It really does." She grins, pressing her finger against my clit and I hum. I whine when she pulls her finger away and sucks it into her mouth, cleaning it.

"Wanda, please," I whine, wanting more of her delicious touch.

"You got to have your fun, now I get to have mine," she simply states and lowers herself to be on her belly, facing my core. I want to reach down, tangle my hands in her hair and push her into me, but I know, that would not be smart. Right now, Wanda is in charge and I have to accept that. It exhilarates me and while a part of me wants to rebel and defy her, the rest of me wants her to praise me and do whatever she has come up with. 

Her breath is hot against me, adding to the need I feel for her. But instead of eating me out, she turns her head and kisses my inner thigh. 

I open my mouth, about to say something, when instead I gasp and clench the sheets in my hands. Wanda grins up at me, a devilish expression in her face as she lets go of my skin, just to run her tongue down my thigh and bite at another spot. It stings, sure, but it's also hot and causes another rush of heat to curse through my body. I wasn't lying when I said I like being marked, as long as it's reasonable. Which it always is as I know Wanda would never mark me permanently. While I like it when she leaves bite marks and hickeys, I would never agree to knife play or such things. We got our limits and I am glad, we share those.

"Fuck," I gasp when her teeth dig into my skin and she sucks harshly. My back arches at the sensation and I have trouble keeping my eyes on her. Watching her nibbling and biting at my skin is so hot and erotic, I would kick myself if I closed my eyes. 

The way her hands roam my skin, holding me in place with a gentleness that makes my head spin while her mouth adds the roughness... it creates sharp longing inside of me, a desire for her and only her. 

Her tongue always soothes the spots and as she moves lower, her nose nudges them. They sting a little but that just adds to the whole experience. The only rule we have about marking is that it has to stay in areas that aren't visible in public. Wanda never marks my neck as we don't want to stumble into conversations that would make everyone uncomfortable. She only ever bit at the base of my neck in winter as I wore hoodies and high necks anyway. With it getting warmer, that's no longer an area for her to mark, but the rest of my body pretty much is. And she sure takes advantage of it.

It's difficult to keep my breathing even when each of her bites or nibbles or sucks only adds to the flame inside of me and I am ready to burst. 

My thighs are now fairly covered in little hickeys and bites, my arousal dripping out of me at this point, which doesn't seem to bother Wanda much. It bothers me though because I am trembling with need.

"Please, Wanda, please," I beg, squirming underneath her. She only holds my hips down with her hands and gives me an amused look.

"What do you want, baby?" I whine, totally desperate for her. 

"I'm ruining the sheets, please," I whine. That's not at all my main concern, it's just a try to get her to pay attention to where I need her.

"Go ahead, ruin them," she shrugs with a sly smile. "I planned on changing them anyway."

I groan at her words and her endless teasing. "I will get you back for this," I mutter and then gasp when her teeth tuck at my skin.

"Will you now?"

"Yes," I hiss at a particularly sharp bite. Wanda just chuckles and trails kisses up my thigh to my hips, stopping at my tattoo.

"Let me show you how a proper mark looks." Her lips press against my skin and she sucks. I hum, the sensitivity of that spot making it so much more intense. 

"Careful with the ink," I warn between heavy breaths. 

"I couldn't care less," she mumbles and sinks her teeth into my skin. I let out a soft cry and fight not to squirm at how hot she is. I need her so fucking badly and she takes her sweet time marking up my body. Maybe I should have seen this coming when getting the fake tattoo.

She sucks harshly, teeth scrapping and biting at my skin over and over again and I can do nothing but gasp and whine and drip. Finally, she pulls away and looks down at her work. I glance down too, spotting a large hickey covering the whole of the tattoo. 

"Mine," she mumbles and soothes the sore spot with her tongue before placing various kisses on it. I whimper but can't deny that it's hot. I like these little reminders of our time together. Sometimes, they make me feel naughty to a point where I end up touching myself while pressing a finger to one of the marks, letting the whole thing replay in my head. 

One time, I called Wanda about it and within fifteen minutes, she was home and made sure I had another couple of hours to remember and remember them I did. It started off at my desk, went over to the kitchen, then the kitchen floor, armrest of the sofa and eventually the bathroom. Both of us were positively sore afterwards but it was absolutely worth it.

"All yours," I agree, letting out a shaky breath. My mind swirls, not allowing me to properly reach for any other thought beyond the need for her.

"So pretty," she whispers, softly kissing my skin and leaning back to admire her work. I blush softly, though that might as well be because of how aroused I am.

"Wanda?"

She meets my eyes, hands gently tracing over my thighs and the hickeys and bite marks. "Hm?" "Please, I need you." 

"If you ask so nicely," she grins and leans down to kiss my pelvis before kissing my thigh again and shifting her position to be comfortable. She moves up, her body now resting beside me and I hum happily when she kisses me, one of her hands slowly but surely moving towards my aching core. 

"I love you so much," she mumbles into the kiss and my heart melts at her words. She can fuck me raw, mark me up and have me begging her and will still tell me how much she loves me. God, this woman is driving me insane in the possibly best way. 

"I love you- yes there," I gasp when her hand finally reaches my core. Wanda smirks at my interruption and kisses my cheek. 

"You can move one of your hands," she grants me and I instantly grab her back, holding on to her.

If I wasn't with my love, I would be embarrassed by how wet I am, the sounds of it loud in the quiet room and Wanda grins even more. Her fingers dip low to where I'm dripping before tracing up again, sliding between my folds and moving up to my clit. I clench around nothing at the mere second she touches my entrance. 

"I'm a mess for you." I'm not sure if I said that out loud or just thought it. Either way, it is the very truth. 

"I know, and I love it," Wanda replies near my ear, her breath tickling my neck.

Her thumb finds my clit and she starts circling it in the way I like best. I hum and lean my head back, finally getting that friction I was craving. Wanda is the best at teasing in any way and while I am working on my patience, it is pretty hot and I can't resist enjoying it each time.

"All mine and forever safe with me," she whispers into my ear while picking up the speed and pressure of her thumb. My breath catches in my throat and I manage only a soft whimper. I'm so aroused and needy from all her teasing, I'm already close, despite her not having touched me before. I squirm and spread my legs further, giving her all the space she needs. 

"Feels so good," I mumble, back arching a little and hips bucking every now and then. I can't exactly grind against her, there's just her thumb and it's already doing a great job. 

"Yeah, it makes you feel good? Makes you want to come?" Wanda coos and I nod, eyes fluttering shut as the pressure builds and I crave for it to pop more than anything else right now. Well, almost.

"Please finger me," I breathe out. 

"All in good time, darling," she promises and the thought of a second orgasm excites me even more. I nod and moan softly when she presses a little harder against my clit. 

"I'm so close," I gasp.

"You want to come?"

"Yes, god yes."

She kisses my jaw and I prepare to let go, feeling the first bits of my orgasm reaching for me, stretching out to roll over me and then...

"April Fools." Wanda pulls away and I cry out. "NO!"

My eyes lock onto hers as I desperately try to grab her hand and push it back between my legs. But Wanda is stronger than me, simply grinning and catching my hand, pinning it to the bed. 

"That's so mean," I whine, rubbing my thighs together in hopes of it bringing any friction, but it doesn't. My orgasm fades without having reached me and frustration takes place. It's not as strong as the desperation though.

"We can both pull pranks, baby," Wanda whispers softly as if she just snatched away a candy bar and not my orgasm. I look at her, whining and pleading.

"Please no, I need it, I feel so...ugh."

"Riled up; horny; fuckable; wet; empty; full?" Wanda supplies. I give her a pouty look. I suppose all of the above are fitting.

She relents and presses her lips to mine while moving her hand back between my legs, pushing them apart to slip her hand between and drag her fingers through my folds. I'm soaking for her and wouldn't even be surprised if she could fit our biggest strap in there without any lube. But I don't want a strap, I want to feel her. 

"Do you want me here?" She asks, as if able to read my thoughts, and prods at my entrance.

"Yes!" I exclaim and groan when she easily slips two fingers inside. 

"You really are riled up," she notes with delight and a hint of pride. Without much of a problem, she slides another finger in, filling me up and stretching me out but fuck, it feels good!

Her fingers have always been long and slender and so perfect, fitting into me as if they were made for that. It is only now that I notice in my haze that she isn't wearing any rings anymore. Probably for the best, at this point, it would slide right off with how wet I am.

Slowly, she extracts a finger before starting to move and I moan happily, clenching around her, still sensitive.

"You feel so good," I gasp, moving my hips to meet her thrusts and urge her on. Wanda does so gladly and fucks me, pace increasing until I can only bite my lip, my hand clawing at her back, likely leaving little marks. Which is her favorite way of being marked. 

"Yes, yes," I chant, pushing my hips against her hand and closing my eyes as I feel the orgasm rushing towards me again. At this point, I think nothing would take long to bring me to orgasm with how sensitive and riled up I am.

"Oh fuck, Wanda!" I cry out, the bliss only a second away.

"NO!" I cry out, this time for a different reason. Wanda gives me an evil grin, her fingers no further inside of me, the orgasm pulling back. 

"April Fools the second," she chuckles lowly and kisses my lips to shut my protest up. I scratch her lightly for an entirely different reason, only receiving another little laugh and a kiss.

"You can't leave me like this," I almost sob, the empty feeling causing my thoughts to jumble without a clear grip on anything.

"I won't." Wanda's voice is soft again and she cups my face with her clean hand and places little kisses all over my face.

"This was just payback, I promise I'm done with edging you." I lean into her touch and meet her eyes, finding only the truth in them. She can be mean, but in the end, she is always sweet and would never truly want to leave me feeling like this. 

"Okay," I whisper and take another kiss off her lips before allowing her to pull back. Just like before, she settles herself between my legs, eyes meeting mine, a silent promise in them.

Then, she leans forward and finally drags her tongue through me and I groan. This time, my hands move to her hair and her back, holding on to her, making sure she will finish the job this time.

Without hesitation, Wanda starts circling my clit with her tongue, sucking it and playing with it in a way that has me trembling with how good it feels. I am crazy sensitive from all her teasing and the edges and feel like I could come on the spot. And to our both surprise, I do.

"Oh!" I almost gasp, not expecting the orgasm to hit me so quickly but welcoming it. My back arches, my body pushing further into her and my hand in her hair tightening. Wanda keeps licking me, helps me through every wave of the orgasm.

"Good girl," she mumbles quietly against me and I shudder. I shudder once more, when she doesn't stop and instead I feel her two fingers back at my entrance. 

"Yes!" I chant when she pushes them in and resumes a similar pace to before, deliciously fucking me towards a second orgasm that I totally deserve. 

My entire body feels shaky and my legs twitch as I work up towards that second release that already feels so much stronger than the first one. One of her hands loops around my hips, holding me down while she presses her face further into me and I positively cry out. Her fingers curl and she hits that spot inside me that always makes me see stars. I cry out her name, dancing on the very edge of my orgasm before she throws me right in there and my entire body goes rigid. My toes curl, my back arches, my hand scratches her back and I see stars for a good minute. 

I continue moaning, calling out her name, for what, I am not sure. 

Slowly, the orgasm ebbs off and I try to catch my breath while a tear runs down my cheek. Wanda glances up, her mouth detaching from my clit as she takes me in. I give her an exhausted smile, assure her these are tears of pleasure. 

Gently, I tug at her hair to pull her away from me, feeling overly sensitive. She does so without a question and pulls out, only licking one last stripe through me, groaning at it. I pull her up to meet my lips and taste myself on her, my chest still rising and falling quickly.

"Such a good girl," she hums and sucks her fingers clean before brushing sweaty hair out of my face. My legs are still opened and twitching while I try to return back to earth. Wanda pulls me to snuggle into her, her hand returning to my thigh to draw mindless circles, grounding me ever so slowly. 

I breathe in her perfume, which mixes with the heavy scent of sex and sigh contently. I'm thoroughly fucked and couldn't be more satisfied. This was certainly not my plan for today, but I can't complain at all.

"You did so well," she mumbles, kissing my temple and running her hand through my hair. I smile lazily into her shoulder and place a kiss there. 

We stay cuddled up for a while, exchanging sweet nothings and sharing lazy and gentle kisses. Wanda declines the offer to be touched, telling me to rest for now. I don't fight her on it, not sure if I would've had the energy to repay the favor anyway.

Eventually, I roll back onto my back, smiling softly. Wanda returns the smile and sits up, hand still on my thigh. She looks over all the marks she left, pride sparkling in her eyes and I giggle and swat at her shoulder. There are scratch marks on her back, none bleeding though and she doesn't seem bothered by them at all.

Her eyes fall between my legs and she grins. I roll my eyes and sit up, seeing what she is grinning about. If I hadn't felt it before, this would be clear evidence of my dripping. Underneath me is a large wet spot, my arousal and cum pooling on the sheets. I blush and gain a kiss from Wanda. 

"Told ya, I wanted to change them anyway." She gets up and helps me to stand on my slightly weak legs as well, leading me into the bathroom to use the toilet and afterwards have a long bath with her. 

There's nothing of the fake tattoo left, as far as I can tell. There's only a large hickey, marking me as hers, but that will be gone in a while and will certainly remind me of a really fucking great night.

A/n: A little mix of fun and spice for you ;) Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I have nothing against tattoos, I just needed a proper prank for this chapter.