#How dare you?! that's very lesbian of you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grotesquevi · 2 months ago

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riva’s side note # i want to take special time on thanking from the bottom of my heart to @mxya-dreams who helped me out in doing the greatest proof read in the universe, not only she's my private editor, but the kindest girl in this place. if my english is better than you recognize in this? may be because she just where art thou why not uponeth me? the fuck of this. hope you guys love loud bark deep bite, im so excited for this also?? iNSANE.

art bellow in one of the windows belongs to blkfairyy0 on x, black hair violet gives me chills idk, edited by your girl aka me wc: 2.5k

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ series masterlist || chapter song || chapter #01

there's a subtle smell of sweat in the gym that makes violet vanderson scrunch her nose in disgust: how is it possible that the unmistakable smell of humans stuck to everything? the ceiling, the machines, the damn walls.

there's a red envelope on the reception table (which she treats like a personal desk) that says in big red letters how's it’s matter of the utmost urgent response. however, as much as it's clearly labelled as important, it seems to be forgotten in an ever growing pile of papers who expose just how shitty her finances were getting lately as all the graphics seemed to go downwards.

why are people suddenly not working out anymore? and more importantly — why are people not working out at her gym? were powder's designs too much for fit stuck-ups? she had a nice place, good rates, every day she blasts hella good music through the speakers only to be cutting expenses for what? three months already? numbers decreasing along with her faith in humanity.

she's recurring to everything at this point. dog walker, worst waiter ever, she even thought about doing porn when she saw an announcement on a website that was calling out for 'lesbians interested in quick money', ticked all the right boxes before backing out the very same day.

so obviously it makes sense she has now come to sell weed. embarrassing herself to the point where she's been offering green to frat kids, who vi wouldn't dare to even talk to if it wasn't out of pure necessity. people in their twenties who look so full of life, meanwhile she wishes she was in bed under twenty blankets and a glass of whiskey gripped in her fingers, shutting the world out just because she wants to.

sweat.

she's thinking about how much she hates other people's sweat when her phone buzzes with a notification that catches her eye immediately. It lights up the empty gym (since there was a storm forecasted that same night) friday night. she's a little curious as to why nobody has reached out to buy when she makes sure to have top-nugs-category: she's selling fucking purple weed, people should be lining up outside.

however, despite her ego being bruised, she reaches for the phone anyway to find a number she doesn't have saved in her contacts.

lena. she makes an effort to remember who exactly this person's talking about before she flashes a good memory from last week, that lena. cute mom she met in a club over the weekend, nice tits, drunk as fuck since she blatantly flirts for fun: good client, safe money. she stumbled upon lena and her group of mom-friends who seemed to be on this crazy-night-out they must pull once every six months or so.

she stares at the phone for a while not really sure what to say — what if it’s a fucking cop? she knows the tactics enforcers use to deal with micro-trafficking, even though vi’s sure her contribution to the drug society is far less intimidating than tony montana’s first years as a baby.

so, logically, she should be saying no. declining cause she doesn't want to go to jail and vi doesn’t want this to blow up in her face: what would powder do if she went to jail? the question makes a shiver run down her spine, she’s definitely not ready to find out. ever.

the owner of ‘the last drop energy’ is ready to make an excuse before another text pops up with a bop sound and she’s looking at the screen again, blue eyes already tired from how much shit she’s been doing the entire day — vi's too old for this.

blame her tender and bruised heart, blame her good will and trust for people cause she knows lena, a mother that seems stressed. maybe it's someone from her bookclub or someone of the sort searching for the good old way to relax, it's coherent after all, makes sense and gives her enough reassurance to back up in words.

despite any warning her brain might give, she needs money. urgently.

she's bad at calculating time cause it's past midnight when vi's parking the motorbike outside your house in the suburbs. her pride and joy, the engine roars loud enough to wake your neighbors as she's taking the helmet off and leaving it against the seat: no one this rich is stealing such a common helmet that looks like it’s barely being held together.

it's a nice neighbourhood anyway, a cute suburb with big houses and a nice design, pretty gardens with porches and thick doors, expensive, nothing like the places she's been living in her whole life — much different from her current place above the gym, her childhood home, as she stares at the garden of roses. it's so distant from her, so strange as she doesn't fit into the whole ‘perfect family life’ painting.

equipped with her trusty leather jacket, there's a two-headed dog design on her back, still on her knee pads securely wrapped around each leg when she's knocking on your door, being judged by your nosy neighbors as she can physically feel the weight of prying eyes on her, even when most of the lights in the other houses are already off.

she's having trouble concentrating for a minute. it catches her off guard, the universe almost calling her out for being so judgemental, so dumb for a minute cause you're not what she thought you were. hair tied in a messy bun, the jeans you're wearing hug your ass so fucking good that she stays silent and stares for a few moments when you're inviting her in, shame written all over your face as you soon state:

"i can't buy weed here, sorry i got gossip-loving-neighbors" and in every other situation, vi would've leave without saying a word cause it's one of her un-written rules: she doesn't go in people's houses, she doesn't do deliveries for new clients and she most definitely doesn't stare at anyone trying to do business with her the way she's doing with you — "you're vi right? sorry for being an awful client, can i offer you anything?"

crap. she thought you were older than you seem to be. it catches her off guard. lena looks older anyway.

"no, no. i'm fine. thank you." you're gesturing the couch, unaware of the whole shitshow vi's already got going on in her own head before getting curious as she looks at the large amount of art you have hanging on your walls, the nice wooden bookshelf with a big stair that seemed to be made to reach the upper shelves, some pictures and a lot of plants that were thriving. it's inevitable, she thinks, when you're this cool, this pleasing to the eye. it doesn't seem like a mom-house at all "got a nice place."

"thanks," you take pride in it, obviously. as you hold a glass of red wine to your lips, there's a knowing smile already tugging on the corners of your mouth. i designed it."

"are you some kind of interior designer or so?"

"architect " you correct her "i mean like, actually designed the house."

well that's hot. power's fucking hot. being in such control's fucking attractive. makes vi wonder if you're still married, searching for a ring on your finger which she doesn't find even when she makes sure of it twice: not married. you're not married.

so that's what it is then? were you trying to impress her? cause vi's such a whore for it already. it’s working damn right when it makes her mouth dry at the thought of it: was she imaging it all? good fuck. is it weird to say she wants you to flirt? that she wants you to try and impress her like a million girls have done before? it's not like the girls from piltover's campus, not like her regulars at the club. no. you're too busy to go out and waste a night drinking away, you have stuff to do, you're always busy and its different. hits her different.

a thousand movies seem to appear in vi's head and she's holding total liability of her actions when pleading guilty in her own brain: boring careers, boring small talk, dull personalities she doesn't really care about when she's selling like this— she forgot the last time she met someone interesting in a similar position. too many dumb fucks.

"lena told me you sell top-quality," you're pouring red wine in the glass cup you're holding between your recently manicured black nails before turning your attention back to her — "i'm really sorry for talking to you out of the blue, my friend told me it was fine."

"i did think you were a cop," vi replies, and the blunt honesty makes you chuckle for a moment. "almost left you on read."

"i knew it" your eyes narrow while she's pulling out an small pink bag of weed that she drops on the small table you have in the center, close to the glass that’s now stained with your lipstick "had to pull the big guns out there and told you it was for my little monster kid, can't leave him alone."

"i figured as much since your friend's also a mom" she understands, she really does. unlike most dealers out there vi got this thing called empathy. fucking hates people who ask to pay later, but kids? she can work with that "i didn't know how much you wanted, but i don't carry much with me usually."

"too much risk" you agree to her words as your fingers take hold of the package that she carefully made for you back at the gym — "its okay. i don't want much either, i didn’t smoke much until like- now."

"i can bring more if you like that. no worries."

she wants to give herself a slap on the back, congratulate her life choices cause she brought less than usual, afraid it was all a trap, but now? now you can call her again, ask for more weed, have her coming again this late to see your pretty face.

"well, that's if you don't hate me, cause i wanted to ask if you have any pre-rolls? i don't think i own a grinder anymore" for fuck's sake. you're looking at her with those eyes, the right corner of your lips pulling into a smile and vi knows, a gut-like omen rising, that you're going to shit on her life even when she tries to avoid it since you have a face people raise religions up on. you're going to make her another one of your worshippers as you're laughing almost in a self-deprecating way.

she doesn't care if you don't have a grinder. if you don't have a lighter, if you don't own papers. hell she'd do it all for you.

"no" she admits only to see the pout in your lips since she's sold way before shaking her head — "but i'll help you out this time."

"this mean you're going to keep on selling me weed?" you ask, head cocking to the side as you question your new go-to dealer "even when i'll probably be an awful client?"

"well, proud to say i have patience" she admits, but not really. vi's saying it to see that smile on your face when she's opening up the package and an earthy smell fills the living room with the soft sound of the television in the background. "it's not like i sell weed to pretty moms in rich neighborhoods every day- i have a feeling you'll actually be a good client."

are you nervous? shit. of course you are.

vi can see it on your lower lip, in the way you try to stay distant even when she experiences the intensity of your gaze as her tongues poking out to lick the glue side of her own rolling papers. fingers swiftly moving to roll the weed you just bought. makes her blush for a moment cause hell — you're intimidating after all, an alluring magnet that seemed to drag her closer like polar opposites, a force in the universe keeping her orbiting around like a moon to your planet.

"that's dylan" your dealer can hear you say, trying to break the ice when catching her staring at the picture of you and your son playfully posing. good to know, but, she was looking at you instead of the kid "he's the six-year-old reason as to why i can’t buy weed in a park."

that makes her laugh which then in turn, makes you laugh.

"he's cute" she replies, leaving the pre-rolls she was rolling on the table "he looks like you."

so it’s awfully clear that vi can't stop herself from flirting with you. can't fight the electric attraction filling the air almost immediately as she knows, by the look on your face that you're considering how bad it is to make out with a potential criminal sitting on your couch from a scale from one to ten.

knows it since she's thinking about it too, only, that in her head the positive outcomes outdo any potential bad ones.

"thank you, vi," you reply, cornered by a sword to your neck and a wall at your back. politely talking cause you desperately need to keep distance between you two to be on your best behavior; not fall for your cute drug dealer as you walk her to the door tipping a good amount of money in a way of showing appreciation for her rolling you enough supplies to last at least a week. "can i save your number?"

"yeah" she states when walking down the front entrance before turning halfway around on the way to the motorbike, helmet still resting in the seat cause you live in a happy world, one with no thieves, no danger or menace — "see you around ma'."

so you lean against the door. arms crossed against your chest, you stare at her like a guard dog until she's leaving the property (can your neighbors be this crazy? or is it that you don't trust people easily?) and the deep sound of the bike disappears into the distance with the stars still shining up in the sky.

she's officially making plans on the first red light back home, not really caring about a husband, a kid or a rich neighbor aware of everything you do.

it's official when violet vanderson decides on making her business, absolutely yours.

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤGROTESQUEVI, MMXXV © DO NOT FEED MY STUFF TO SHITTY AI, NOR TRANSLATE OR COPY TO ANOTHER PAGES.

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bililyy · 2 months ago

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IF IT'S FOREVER IT'S EVEN BETTER | PAIGE BUECKERS

𝜗𝜚 Summary: Y/n is having a hard time coming out to her parents about her relationship with Paige, but well, it had to happen eventually, right?

𝜗𝜚 Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Fem!Reader WC: 2.921

𝜗𝜚 Warnings!: Internalized homophobia, use of Y/n, Reader is having difficulty coming out to parents, crying, minor argument, Happy ending.

GUYS! My native language is not English, so you will probably find some mistakes, I'm sorry, I promise I will improve. NOW! Please comment your opinion on this, I love interacting with you. :)

"So, how's Christmas going to be for you guys?" KK asks looking at Y/n and Piage who are sitting side by side holding hands on the couch.

"Actually, we won't be spending Christmas together." This seems to take everyone by surprise. Except Paige, the two had already talked about it a few nights before.

"No?"

"No, me... I'll spend it with my family and Paige with hers." Y/n says this a little awkwardly and feels Paige's grip on her hand tighten.

"But... Why? Don't your families know each other or something?" Azzi asks half laughing.

"No, they've known each other since childhood actually but..." Yes, Y/n was feeling tortured.

"What happened?"

"It's just that her parents still don't know that we... are together." The girls look at their girlfriends with their jaws dropped.

"What?"

"Actually, they don't even know I'm..."

"Your parents don't know you're a lesbian?!" KK says in disbelief.

"Not yet." Y/n says feeling her throat close up a little.

"Wow, we had no idea, Paige is always hanging around you, don't they suspect?"Azzi asks and Paige looks down.

This was a difficult thing for both sides.

"They think she's my best friend, well she is, but they think that's all." This makes the other girl smile a little.

"But it's okay, you'll tell eles when the time is right." Paige says kissing Y/n's knuckles.

"Isn't that hard?" KK asks and Y/n scoffs.

"Torture."

"We'll find a way."

But during that Christmas morning, all Y/n wanted was for Paige to be with her at that table, having coffee together in matching ugly sweaters.

Damn, she's 22 years old, why did she have to live her love in hiding?

"You're so quiet, honey, are you okay?" Y/n's mother asks, a little worried, when she sees her daughter appear in the kitchen with a tired expression.

"Yes, I'm just... I'm thinking about work." She gives a half smile, but Y/n's older brother Luke looks at her suspiciously.

"Can you help me get some bags from the car?" He asks seriously and she just nods following him.

He hadn't been able to get there on time the night before on Christmas Eve, so he arrived this morning to have coffee and spend the day with his family.

As soon as they leave the house, Luke looks at her with an amused expression.

"So, who is he?" He asks trying to read his sister.

"There's no him, brother." Y/n says kicking the snow on the ground next to Luke's car.

"So… her?" he asks, unlocking the car. Y/n stands still, not daring to look at her brother’s face.

"I-"

"It’s Paige, isn’t it?" That makes Y/n catch her breath. When she looks at Luke, she sees him smiling with an 'got you' expression.

"I knew it."

"What? Luke you can't say that." She says opening the car door and grabbing the bags from the back seat.

"What?"

"Saying 'I already knew' like it was something very obvious." She says dropping the bags and running her hands over her face.

"But it was... To me."

"You guys are always together, and I actually don't think I've ever seen you interested in a guy."

They are silent for a while, Y/n looking at the floor with her hands in her coat pocket and Luke looking at his sister affectionately.

"Hey, come here." He says pulling his sister into a tight hug.

"It's okay, I promise you." This makes Y/n feel her eyes burn, she closes them tightly just feeling her brother's arms.

"Luke, I'm scared." She says this hugging him tighter and crying into his chest.

"Please God, don't let my parents go out that door." That was all she thought.

"I know, but we're in this together now, I promise I'm on your side regardless of their reaction." He says giving her a loving kiss on the head.

"How long has it been?"

"That I'm... gay?" She asks letting go of him and wiping her tears.

Luke chuckles when he hears that.

"No, silly, you and Paige are together."

"It's been almost a year." She says smiling as she remembers her girlfriend.

He looks at her a little surprised.

"All of this?"

"I know, I should have told them already but-"

"Calm down, it's okay sister." He says interrupting the girl before she has a fit.

"This must be really hard, it's okay."

He sighs and looks at his sister fidgeting with her hands nervously.

"I don't love you any less because of that, you know?" This makes her want to cry again.

"And if they love you any less because of it, it's not your fault."

"How can it not be my fault?" She says softly.

"Love doesn't work that way, sister."

He's right, love doesn't reject.

"Are you happy?"

"Very happy."

"Then it works for me."

Luke smiles when he sees that the woman's expression has improved a little.

"Let's go inside, I'm freezing." He says handing her some bags, and taking the rest, closing the door with his foot, and activating the alarm on the remote.

"Race to see who gets there first?" He says smiling.

"On three... Three!" The younger sister runs before he can think.

"You cheater!'

Anyway, Luke won.

"Come on kids, they're almost here." Their mother says as they enter the kitchen with their bags.

"Who, mom?"

"I invited some of your friends to have coffee with us."

"What friends?" She says, motionless

"I invited Paige and Tom."

"What?! What do you mean you invited Paige? And Tom? I don't even talk to him anymore, mom!"

"Yes, but he liked you when you were teenagers, what if something happens."

"No, mom, damn it, I don't want anything to happen to me and Tom."

"And why not?"

"How did you manage to talk to Paige?"

"I had her number since that day when your battery was dead, remember?"

Damn

"Mom, please tell me that's a lie." The older woman opens her mouth to answer when the doorbell echoes through the house.

"I'll open it." Her father says, getting up from the table and going to the door with his wife following behind, excited to welcome the guests.

"I'm ruined."

Y/n says, sitting at the table with her hands on her face and her head down.

"Are you ruined? I'm going to have to pretend to like that bastard." Luke says, rolling his eyes.

She looks up as soon as she hears Tom's voice.

"Can you believe Paige and I got here together? It's been a long time since I've seen her." He says, laughing, entering the kitchen and greeting Luke.

Paige looks at her girlfriend with a hopeful look, but her face falls a little when she sees her trying to avoid eye contact.

"Long time no see, kitten." Tom says, kissing Y/n's cheek and sitting next to her.

Paige frowns at this and reluctantly sits down in the chair next to Luke, facing Y/n.

"Hi Paige." Luke says with a mischievous smile and she smiles back suspiciously.

"It's great to have you here, Tom, I know how busy you've been at that new job of yours." The older woman says with bright eyes as she looks at the boy, and Paige feels like throwing up.

"Yes, I was going to bring you flowers Y/n, but I didn't have time-"

"She's allergic." Paige says without another word to the boy.

"Excuse me?"

"Y/n is allergic to flowers." She finally says looking at the boy who raises his eyebrows.

"Really? Well, maybe some artificial ones then-"

"She doesn't like the fake ones." Luke answers this time making the other boy's cheeks red.

"So..."

"It's okay Tom, I didn't need anything." Y/n answers giving a slight look to Paige, who looks upset.

"I always hoped you two would get together, you know?" Her mother says smiling.

"Mom stop." Luke tries

"It's true Son, they're so cute together." Paige clutches the glass in her hand staring at the plate.

"Stop, honey, don't make them embarrassed."

And when she thinks it can't get any worse...

"So Paige, are you still... In that basketball thing or...?" Tom says almost mocking the blue-eyed woman.

"Yeah, I'm still in that basketball thing."

"That's cool, but are you in college or something real, right?"

What the hell is this?

"What do you mean 'Something real'? Paige is trying really hard and achieving her things on her own, Not everyone starts straight at the top by being a daddy's boy." Y/n says this making a silence settle over the table.

"Y/n!" Her mother says slamming her hands on the table.

"Trying hard? Come on Y/n!"

"Look, I'm going now." Paige says getting up from the table making Y/n look at her with wide eyes.

"Paige."

"Thanks for the invitation, sorry about anything." She gives a weak smile and leaves the kitchen.

"I'll... Walk her to the door." Y/n gets up quickly and goes after her girlfriend.

She catches up with Paige outside the house, the snow is no longer falling, but the street is completely silent and empty.

"Paige, please wait!" She turns around abruptly with tears in her eyes.

"Look, I don't want to be... Fuck!" Paige says, running her hand through her hair.

"It's okay, please tell me how you feel." This seems to encourage Paige, who looks at her girlfriend with tears falling.

"I don't want to be the bitchy girlfriend who pulls you out of the closet, but I... I need to know if you'll ever come out to them... that you are with me." She says the last part quietly and the other girl takes a few steps closer.

"I will, I promise I will, I just... I need some time." Paige looks into her girlfriend's eyes.

"When I saw... you and him in there, I saw your family so proud, just with the possibility of him being around, as if... only that would be good for you, I felt like a mistake, the wrong thing you're afraid of." Paige says, pointing to the house and crying more.

"No, honey, don't say that, you're the love of my life, my soulmate, don't talk like that."

Y/n approaches her girlfriend and holds her face, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry, I swear I don't want to upset you, I just-" Paige is interrupted by Y/n's lips on hers.

It was a slow and affectionate kiss, she hoped to be able to show all the love she felt for Paige through this kiss.

The two separate their lips, a little breathless, and Paige moans, pulling her girlfriend by the coat for another kiss, this time deeper, with tongue and some whimpering from both of them, it was a kiss full of longing and fear.

Y/n separates the two by giving her girlfriend a kiss on the mouth, who smiles fondly.

"Don't ever say that again, we're not a mistake."

"Y/n?" They listen and the girl lets out a "Fuck" with her eyes closed before turning to the voice that called her.

When she looks, she sees her parents at the door watching the scene in disbelief, Tom with his eyes wide open and his mouth open, while her brother looks worried.

"Mom, I-"

"I'm the one who kissed her, I've loved her for a long time and-"

"Stop Paige, it's okay." She says smiling sadly at her girlfriend.

When she turns her gaze back to her family, her parents come back into the house in silence and Luke sighs.

"I think it's better I..." Tom says awkwardly.

"Yeah, I think it's better if you go." Luke says patting the young man on the back.

Paige looks worriedly at her girlfriend who is breathing heavily.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault, it's not our fault." Paige pulls her girlfriend into a tight hug.

"I'm here, I swear I'm here forever." She whispers in her ear.

"I know."

Luke approaches the two with his hands in his coat pocket.

"It'll be okay, sister, if anything, I'm your new dad." He says jokingly, making the two laugh softly as they let go.

"Please never say that again." She says, punching her brother's arm as she walks past him.

"Good luck with that, sister."

"Good luck, my love." Paige quietly watches her girlfriend go back inside the house.

"So, is this the time I scare you?" He says jokingly, making Paige smile awkwardly.

"I guess so."

Y/n enters the house and sees her parents in the living room, silent.

"Mom, I-"

"Since when?"

The girl sighs and closes her eyes.

"We've been together for almost a year." She can't tell from her parents' expressions what they were thinking.

"One year?"

"I was going to tell you... I was scared, mom, I don't want to lose you guys, but I also... I can't lose her." This makes them both look at her.

"I've never loved anyone as much as I love her, and in the beginning it was so hard, and Paige was so patient and... She helped me so much."

"Mom, I don't want Tom, I don't want any boy, I... I don't even like them."

Her mother looked at her intently.

"I love her, I see my future with her and only her, I'm sorry if this makes you two unhappy, but I'm happy, I'm happy now."

"You don't need to apologize." Her father speaks for the first time.

"This is something different, we didn't grow up like this and we're not used to it but... I see how happy you seem now, more confident and lighter too, and that's how we want to see you." Y/n feels her eyes burn when she hears this.

"Dad." She says, already crying.

"It's okay, daughter, it's okay." He says, pulling his daughter into a tight hug.

That was a moment she had imagined and dreamed of so much.

"Your brother knows, doesn't he?" Y/n's mother says softly.

"He found out a few hours before you did." The girl says, laughing softly and letting go of her father.

I'll call them, and I think you two need to talk too." The older man says, giving his daughter a little kiss on the head and leaving the room.

The girl looks at her mother a little nervously, she understands that it would be something difficult to accept, every mother has that dream of seeing her daughter marry a prince charming and stuff like that.

"I think I already suspected." This makes Y/n look at her in surprise.

"Really?"

"I saw how you were always together, I noticed the way she always analyzed and took care of you, I just... I don't think I wanted to accept it." Y/n feels her heart break with that.

"Today... The way you defended her and the details she already knew about you." She laughed softly.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you." The older woman looks at her daughter in surprise.

"Don't say that, daughter, you've always been my greatest pride and you continue to be, you will always be." She says smiling.

"Mom, I love her so much."

"I know, my love."

She closes her eyes in her mother's arms, finally letting out one last breath.

Finally, damn it.

"I want a hug too!" The moment is interrupted by Luke's annoying voice.

They let go and see Luke at the door smiling, Y/n's father next to him and Paige, a little shy, at the door, practically on the street.

Their eyes meet and there is nothing but love and affection.

"Well, family." Y/n says, going to her girlfriend and holding her hand, pulling her inside. "You already know her as my friend, but... This is my girlfriend, Paige."

"I... I didn't want it to be like this but-"

"It's okay Paige, everyone is a little crazy in this family." Luke says patting Paige on the shoulder.

"And another thing, we had a talk, right Paige?" This makes Y/n look at him angrily.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He says raising his hands in surrender.

"Well, I guess we can have our coffee in peace, huh?" Y/n's father smiles at the younger woman.

"Yeah, after all this family drama, we deserve some coffee." Luke says holding his parents by the shoulders and leading them to the kitchen.

He looks over his mother's shoulder and winks at both of them, who smile.

Paige looks at her girlfriend a little shyly, it seemed like the first time.

"Hi"

"Hi" Y/n answers softly.

"Sorry again, I didn't mean to force this on you." Paige says, tucking a strand of her girlfriend's hair behind her ear.

"You didn't do it." She answers, taking her girlfriend's hands and intertwining their fingers.

"Why do I still feel like I did it?" Paige asks, looking deep into her girlfriend's eyes.

She sighs at the athlete's stubbornness and pulls her by her clothes until her mouth is close to her ear.

"Then I guess I'll have to make you forget about this later, huh?" she rolls her eyes and opens her mouth in surprise.

"You didn't do it..."

"Yes, I did."

The two of them press their foreheads together with their eyes closed.

"I love you," they say together and laugh when they realize it.

Finally, fuck.

#lesbian #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #fanfics

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killiaia · 8 months ago

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Brat II.

Huh Yunjin and Kazuha x Male reader. 2.7K words

TW : Anal, Ass play, Ass to mouth, Lesbian sex, brat kink, sub Kazuha and more.

It's hard for you to watch your girlfriend dance like that with someone else, but you're professional and keep your cool.

Yunjin finishes her dance and you're called to the middle of the stage with Kazuha.

"Ready Zuha?" You ask.

"I'm ready Oppa. "

The choreographer starts the music and you grab Kazuha by the waist. The young woman puts her hands against your chest and stops her face very close to yours.

Kazuha is beautiful, but you continue the dance. The young woman turns and sticks to you. You do the choreography glued to each other. Your hands on her pelvis, you guide her steps.

You're the center of attention, everyone's looking at you, but only one person is glowering at you, and that's Yunjin.

She's angry, no, it's not anger, it's jealousy. If Yunjin could, she'd separate you from Kazuha. You can see it in her eyes, Yunjin only wants to catch you and keep you for herself.

But that's not how it works.

You finish your choreography with Kazuha and the Japanese girl places a kiss on your cheek in thanks.

You return to your seat and feel Yunjin's gaze on you.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you? " Yunjin asks Kazuha.

"Yes. I wanted him to fuck me on stage in front of everyone. "Kazuha replies. "Relax, I'm kidding. It was just to thank him, we dance well together. "

Yunjin just turns her head and looks at you. You chat with other dancers and the choreographer announces the end of rehearsals.

Everyone applauds and leaves the room. You grab your things and leave the room. You plan to go to the hotel and rest in your room.

After a few minutes' walk, you arrive at the hotel. You greet the staff and go up to your room. You open your door and close it behind you.

You drop your things and don't dare say another word. The sight before you is magnificent. Yunjin and Kazuha are standing in front of you, naked.

"Shall I explain? " Yunjin says.

You nod.

"I want your cock, she wants your cock, you want our pussies. So you're going to fuck us. ",

"You Huh Yunjin ready to share me? "You ask incredulously

"Oh I want to show her that I'm your little slut and then you won't be able to do without my Pussy."

"I think you're far too trusting. " You say. "Who says I won't prefer Zuha's pussy?"

"Because I'm your brat. I'm your cock-addicted slut. " Done Yunjin.

Excited by Yunjin's words you grab her and kiss her. Yunjin sticks to you and takes your hand and puts it on her pussy...

"Look how wet I am. "

"It's true." You reply, sliding a finger over the folds of her pussy. "Was it when Kazuha stuck her ass against me that made you like this? "

Yunjin wants to answer but you slide a finger inside her. Yunjin moans and you stifle the moan by kissing her.

You withdraw your finger and Yunjin protests but you present her with your finger and Yunjin sucks your finger. With your other hand, you beckon Kazuha to come closer. You grab her by the waist and kiss her. Kazuha responds immediately, you caress her pretty ass. With your fingers, you spread her buttocks and want to titillate her asshole, but something stops you.

"You naughty girl. Zuha has a plug in her ass."

Zuha blushes.

"Yunjin too... " Zuha denounces.

"Hey! This was supposed to be a surprise! " protests Yunjin.

To verify Kazuha's words, you slide your hand down to Yunjin's buttocks.

"I want you to fuck my ass tonight “ Yunjin replies.

"We're going to the shower. Now. " You order and both women run to it.

You undress and head for the bathroom. You hear the water running and enter the bathroom.

Kazuha and Yunjin are kissing.

"Did I say you could kiss? "You do.

The two girls part immediately. It was as if they'd made a big mistake.

"Sorry," both singers say.

Caught up in a surge of affection, you soften and sit in a chair.

"Continue. Daddy gives you permission to do whatever you want. "

"Really? " Yunjin says with a high-pitched tone and a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Yup. Daddy will just jerk off watching you. Go ahead."

The two women waste no time. Yunjin grabs Zuha and kisses her. The American brings her hand down and starts fingering the Japanese woman.

"Don't go too fast, baby. " You say to Yunjin. "Be gentle with Zuha."

" Sorry Daddy. " Yunjin replies.

"Ask her what she wants."

"What do you want? “ Yunjin asks, glued to Zuha's lips.

"I want you to finger me and then I want you to lick my pussy in front of Daddy. " Kazuha says shyly.

"That's good, Zuha. " You're encouraging Zuha. "Finger her gently. " You say to Yunjin.

Yunjin nods and begins to finger Zuha.

"Express yourself, Zuha. Look at me. " You say.

"It's so good. " replies the Japanese woman.

Yunjin turns Zuha's head and kisses her. You continue the strokes on your cock.

"Zuha. Finger Yunjin. " You command.

Zuha listens to you and moves her hand down to Yunjin's vagina. She caresses her clit and inserts her finger inside her. Both young women moan their mouths against each other.

"Faster. "

Both young women increase the speed with their fingers.

"You're good girls."

You do the same and speed up the movements on your cock. Yunjin and Kazuha, still glued together, finger each other faster.

"I'm going to cum. " Kazuha announces.

"Make her cum. " You order Yunjin.

Yunjin smiles at you and enters a second finger into Kazuha. The Japanese woman, overwhelmed by pleasure, slams herself against the glass wall, moaning.

"Oh my god. I'm going to cum. "

You stand up, open the door and grab Kazuha's face to kiss her. Yunjin continues to finger her and you insert your tongue into her mouth. The Japanese girl is about to crack. With your hand, you reach down to her ass and grab one of her buttocks.

This is stimulation too far for Zuha, who orgasms. Her whole body starts shaking and you have to catch her. You carry her and see that Kazuha has trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Do you want to rest, little heart? "

Zuha nods and you ask Yunjin to grab you a bathrobe. She helps you put it on Kazuha and you go to lay the young woman on the bed.

"Have a rest. "

"Thanks Daddy. "

You place a kiss on Kazuha's forehead and see Yunjin glaring at you. You follow her into the bathroom and close the door behind you.

"What's with that look? " You ask.

"You have no right to be soft on her. "Yunjin replies. "Oh, you want to lie down, sweetheart. "Yunjin imitates you.

"Don't be a brat. "you warn Yunjin.

"I'm a brat. I'm your fucking brat. You only have the right to be gentle with me. I'm your girlfriend. " Yunjin does.

"Baby... Are you jealous? "

"YES!" Yells Yunjin.

"Baby it was your idea! " You retort.

"It's not that. It's being sweet to her like she's your girlfriend. She isn't. I am. "

"Okay okay. I'm sorry, okay? " You say. " Get in the shower, I'll make it up to you. "

Yunjin listens to you and goes into the shower. She runs the water again and you get in with her. Gently, as if afraid of breaking her, you kiss her. Yunjin wraps her arms around your neck and you put your hand on her cheek.

I'm sorry," you murmur against her mouth. "You whisper against his mouth.

"It's okay," Yunjin replies softly.

"Do you want Daddy to eat your pussy?"

Shyly, Yunjin nods. You kiss her nose and start to work your way down. You kiss her neck, her breasts, her belly, her belly button.

You find yourself in front of her pussy. And you place a kiss on her clitoris.

"You have the most beautiful pussy Yunjin. "

You start by licking her folds. With your hands, you grab her buttocks and push her against your mouth, drawing a moan from Yunjin.

Oh god", says Yunjin.

You knead her ass and with your mouth move up to her clit. You start tonguing her and Yunjin holds herself against the wall. You continue your assault on her clit, alternating licks and nibbles.

You push her against your mouth and Yunjin puts her hand in your hair. You look up at her and plant your gaze in hers. You flick your tongue down to her clitoris, and Yunjin begins to undulate her pelvis against your mouth. You help her by grabbing her buttocks and pressing her against your mouth. Yunjin fucks your mouth with her pussy.

"Daddy... I'm going to cum. "

"In my mouth. "

You resume your oral assault and Yunjin tries to cum as fast as possible. The young woman passes her legs over your shoulders and you're inches away from carrying her against the wall.

"My God, my God..."

With one of your fingers, you start to touch Yunjin's anal plug. And that's just what Yunjin needed to cum.

You receive all her pussy juices into your mouth and Yunjin lets out a cry of pleasure. You feel Yunjin's legs trembling and quickly take them off your shoulders so she doesn't fall. Gently, you press her against you.

"Are you okay?" You ask Yunjin.

"Yes," Yunjin says feverishly.

You kiss her nose and Yunjin snuggles up against you.

"I'm going to see if Zuha's asleep. " Yunjin says.

You nod and Yunjin comes out of the bathroom, so you take the opportunity to start washing.

But it's short-lived as you hear Yunjin screaming.

You quickly get out of the shower and go into the bedroom.

But you're stopped dead in your tracks by what's in front of you.

Yunjin and Kazuha are on all fours on the bed, their hands spreading their asses, giving you a view of their holes.

You don't know what to do, both women have removed their plugs.

It's like you're being pulled by a magnet. You advance toward Yunjin, your cock toward her asshole.

"We've already put in lube Daddy." Yunjin says. "All you have to do now is put your big cock inside us. "

"And who do I start with?"

"Zuha. " Done Yunjin. "Destroy her little slutty ass. "

You listen to your girlfriend and line up your dick with Kazuha's asshole.

"Ready Zuha?"

"Yes daddy. "

You start by putting the tip in.

"Relax Zuha. " You say.

Zuha controls her breathing and you enter gently. You feel her hole relax and enter more.

You start to move back and forth and Zuha starts to moan. To your left, Yunjin starts fingering her ass in preparation. Playfully, you slap her bottom, making her moan.

You bring your attention back to Zuha and start to increase the pace.

"Are you okay, Kazuha?"

"Yes.." moans Kazuha. "Faster. "

You listen to the Japanese woman and increase the pace. Your cock enters completely into the Japanese woman's ass, who screams with pleasure.

"Fuck her ass! " Yunjin does

You listen to your girlfriend and grab the Japanese girl's hips, violently thrusting your cock into her.

"Slap my ass! " Kazuha says

You raise your hand and slap Kazuha's ass. One hand on her hip, the other slamming into her ass, Kazuha starts to increase her speed. She helps you with the licks and the pleasure is intense for both of you.

"I've got an idea. " Yunjin says.

Yunjin starts to get up and stand in front of Kazuha. The Japanese woman questions her with her eyes and Yunjin gives her a smile. She grabs Zuha's face and puts her head in her pussy.

Although surprised, Zuha begins to eat her member's pussy.

"You brat. " you throw at Yunjin.

"I'm Daddy's brat. " Yunjin replies.

"We'll make her come and then I'll take care of your ass," you say to Yunjin.

In response, Yunjin presses Kazuha's face against her pussy and you increase the speed.

Kazuha would like to moan but her mouth is too busy licking Yunjin's pussy.

You slap Kazuha's ass and lean over her. You reach the Japanese woman's ear and whisper.

"You're going to come, Zuha. You're going to cum so hard on my cock like the pretty toy you are. "

Kazuha likes it so much.

"Don't be shy, cum. Look at Yunjin. "

Kazuha looks up at her member and Yunjin winks at her. You accentuate the slaps on her ass and the strokes of your cock in her ass.

"Zuha is going to cum. Zuha's gonna come. " You hum in the Japanese woman's ear.

Zuha pulls out of Yunjin's vagina and lets out a cry of pleasure. You feel her ass tighten around your dick and it's a good thing you're experienced, because with the sensation you could very well have cum.

You pull your cock out of Kazuha's ass and the japanese collapses. You slap her ass and say.

"Good girl. "

You look at Yunjin.

"Lie on your back on me."

You lie on your back and Yunjin lies on her back on top of you. Without warning you grab her legs and lift them.

"Zuha. Put my cock in Yunjin's ass. "

Zuha listens and grabs your cock. You lift Yunjin a little and Zuha slides your cock into the singer's ass.

Your cock went in so easily.

"Kazuha. Lick Yunjin's pussy. "

Kazuha listens to you again and places her lips on her member's vagina while you fuck Yunjin's ass. In this position, Yunjin is vulnerable. Lying on her back on top of you, legs in the air, your cock in her ass and Kazuha licking her pussy, Yunjin's moans can be heard.

You decide not to be nice to her and quickly fuck her ass. Yunjin likes it, she likes to be fucked hard. This has the desired effect, as Yunjin turns her head to kiss you.

However, you're also taken by surprise when you feel Kazuha's tongue against your balls.

"Oh fuck. " You let go.

"Your balls are so full. You're so going to fill Yunjin's ass. " Kazuha does.

God, the sensuality in Kazuha's voice mixed with Yunjin's moans could make you cum.

Kazuha alternates between your Etballs and Yunjin's pussy. It's as if Kazuha controls the pleasure of you and Yunjin.

A lick on Yunjin's clit, a lick on your balls. You're stimulated all over. Your mouth is occupied by Yunjin's mouth, your cock is in Yunjin's ass and your balls are in Kazuha's mouth.

You're not Superman, you're not going to last long so you decide to make Yunjin cum.

"Concentrate on Yunjin's pussy, Zuha. We're going to make her come. "

Zuha listens to you and stops licking your balls and goes back up to licking Yunjin's pussy. To help her cum, Zuha puts a finger in Yunjin's pussy.

"I'm so full. " Yunjin shouts.

"You like having both your holes filled? You like it little brat. " You do sensually to Yunjin.

"I fucking love it. " Yunjin does.

You speed up the movements and Yunjin howls with pleasure. Kazuha increases the pressure with her tongue and finger.

"I'm going to cum so hard..." screams Yunjin. "Oh my god. "

Yunjin's orgasm is so powerful that your cock is propelled out of her ass.

And Kazuha does something that startles you. The young woman takes your cock and starts sucking it.

"Oh my god, Kazuha. "

Yunjin takes the opportunity to kiss you. You can't moan any more, Yunjin stops you with his tongue.

Kazuha jerks you off as she sucks you. Yunjin climbs off you and joins Kazuha. The two young women share your cock. Kazuha sucks you off and then Yunjin takes her place.

"Cum on our faces. " Yunjin says.

You straighten up and Yunjin and Kazuha get down on their knees in front of you. You masturbate, and Yunjin and Kazuha take turns sucking your balls.

"Paint our faces Daddy. " says Kazuha.

You speed up the movement and feel yourself coming, the two young women approach and you cum on their faces.

Kazuha receives your cum on her lips and opens her mouth to drink as much as possible. Yunjin does the same and after you've let go, the two women share your cum.

"Thanks Daddy" say Yunjin and Kazuha together.

#kpop #kpop smut #smut #male reader #male reader smut #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin #kazuha #le sserafim #lesserafim smut

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chaos0pikachu · 1 year ago

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word of honor is a comfort show specifically for scenes like when Cheng Ling the accidently adopted child of two mass murderers gets kidnapped by Soft Butch Assassin and her girlfriend High Femme Assassin for a piece of the glazed donut when Zhou Zi Shu shows up like "UNHAND MY CHILD!!" And CL is all "omg I'm your son 🥺🥺" and ZZS is like "I suddenly can't read I don't know mariah carey.gif" meanwhile our lesbian assassins are like "god people have no respect for torture time anymore" and they all have a swirly twirly fight b/c everyone is dressed to the NINES b/c if you're gonna be a murderer in a wuxia show you are also gonna look PEAK FABULOUS thank you very fucking much and then ZZS is like "oh no my nipple nails of cancer are acting up" and whenever his nipples are aching who shows up but Wen Ke Xing busting through the door like the koolaid man with the energy of a queen lip syncing for her life on Rupaul all "HOW DARE YOU HARM MY HUSBAND AND OUR CHILD" and ZZS is like "he's not our child!!" and another swirly twirly fight happens and the lesbians dip so our marital arts family chases them outside only to be confronted by ZOMBIES or crackheads whichever and WKX is like "husband, take our child and run" and ZZS is obviously not gonna do that cause like both a feral cat & a millennial he's always Down to Fight and also lacks general self-preservation so WKX is like "dying alongside you is also a beautiful way to die" meanwhile CL in the back wondering if they could all just not die like he didn't stick a piece of the glazed donut in his stomach and hang out with his boring, beige, busted uncles for 2 weeks just get eaten train to busan style the fuck

and then Scorpion King (not the rock) floats down from the sky in slow mo like a Jrock act floating down onto the stage playing his little guitar like "HELLOOOOOOOO ANCIENT CHINA!! HOW WE FEELING TONIGHT?" and ZZS is like "not a fucking band kid" so he throws smoke bombs naruto style and they all dip

and in the end of all~~~ of this CL is like "so I'm your son right?" and ZZS is like, "fuck it, fine" and signs the adoption papers while wwx is like planning an autumn wedding

#word of honor #faraway wanderers #wenzhou #chaos pikachu speaks #pikachu's chaotic recaps

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wandasaura · 18 days ago

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CRUSH CULTURE

summary — yelena’s never had the freedom of considering her sexual orientation, but she knows that girls like boys, and she knows her sister likes girls, but even when you’re the only person on her mind, she can’t succumb to the suffocating standardized crush culture

warning(s) — established queer-platonic relationships, asexual yelena belova, self-acceptance, pride parade, established blackhill, caught fucking, internalized homophobia, childhood trauma, past sexual assault, mention of the red room, yelena’s first pride, coming to terms with sexuality, crying, light banter, alcohol consumption, pre-gaming, day drinking, men/minors dni

authors note — based off of ‘i’ll never need a reason to show the world how much i love you’ from this prompt list! a little asexual representation for pride!

“Hey Nat,” There’s a soft smile on your face. You brace your hand on the bedroom door, a question on the top of your mind. There’s sunshine spilling in from every corner. Everywhere you turn, one window or another is open wide, and the breeze that sweeps inside dances sweetly with the sheer curtains that don’t block out much light. They weren’t purchased to block light, just to soften it, and keep private moments from the windows of other apartments across the way. Today though, they’re pulled to the side, and anyone who dares to be nosey and glance into your two bedroom Manhattan apartment is welcome to watch the show unfold.

Seven months ago, you’d first thrown this idea around. A year ago, you’d first begun to set the groundwork and lay the expectations. Natasha and Maria, for the most part, had been following your color coded agenda down to the very T. They’d done pride events before, many of them, some of them even with you tucked into their side as a third wheel, still taking everything in, still figuring out who you were. How General Dreykov’s prized possession recognized her calling to lesbianism before you did, you would never know, but years later, it’s your turn to teach somebody else the beauty of being unconditionally and unapologetically free.

“I thought we still had vodka—“ Your eyes sweep across the furniture in your guest bedroom. Unlike Yelena, who lives out of a suitcase, Natasha unpacks whenever she gets somewhere. It’s interesting to watch them handle trauma individually. It’s interesting to witness how Natasha overcompensates with allowing the world into her heart and her mannerisms, and Yelena can’t seem to close herself far enough off from it completely. “Oh my god, Nat!” It takes you a moment to glance at the bed in the center of the room. You’d been captivated by a ripped strip of film sitting on top of the dresser. It’s not yours. It’s the other half of Yelena’s. It’s a photo booth film reel from the years in their life where family had been a core value. Yelena’s cheesy smile is missing a couple of teeth, her hair is wild, falling down her shoulders and her back just until it reaches her breastbone. She’s so little. So full of radiance and innocence. It’s hard to imagine that she’d been only a few months away from the end of her life at that point. It’s hard to swallow that her little face hadn’t ever smiled that sincerely since.

It’s like somebody dumps a bucket of ice water on you — to one minute be considering how Yelena Belova had overcome the worst fate imaginable, and then the next lay eyes on her naked big sister whom you’d established a relationship with before you’d even known of her existence was shocking. It was only subconscious that your eyes raked up Maria’s toned back in the initial shock.

The brunette straddled the redhead, using two pride flags as restraints that kept the reformed assassins hands pinned above her head. The sunset colors looked pretty against Natasha’s skin, and the green of her eyes seemed incandescent as she raised her head from the pillows and tugged her hands out of the restraints like they’d never really held her down anyways. Maria glanced down at her when hands looped around her warm waist, a gleam of annoyance on her face.

“You’re supposed to tell me when they’re too loose, not just force yourself still. Will you tell her that it’s about letting go completely? She won’t let me drill it through that thick skull.” Your cheeks flame at Maria’s brazen question. She doesn’t seem to mind that your eyes glance down at her nipples, or that you flicker back to Natasha with a compulsive need to memorize the way her pasty skin looks speckled with love bites and bruises. This isn’t the first time you’ve walked in on Natasha and Maria like this. This isn’t even the first time Maria’s roped you into a conversation about their sex life, but it’s the first time it’s happened with Yelena down the hall, getting ready in the bathroom with your blow dryer on its quietest setting. It’s still a trigger for her; the sudden loud noise and inescapable heat. She can’t tell you specifically what it reminds you of, you don’t think she knows, or at least can’t distinguish a specific memory through the haze in her mind, but nonetheless it triggers her, and that response is as real as anything else.

“Um, it’s about letting go completely.” You tell Natasha, because you’ll do anything Maria tells you to when she uses that tone of voice. Natasha snorts, sitting up fully, until Maria is cradled in her lap. The veteran. who you’ve never known to be the one getting held in their relationship, wiggles off of Natasha’s lap and stalks toward the closet like she’s equally as uncomfortable. She has a pair of black underwear on, nothing scandalous, but you watch Natasha watch her swing her hips with every step.

Both of them are entirely unphased that their marked skin is exposed to the sunlight and your gaze. Neither of them care that their nipples peak before your attention, either subconsciously or not. Maria’s a veteran, she spent six years stripping naked in communal showers and whatever their sleeping arrangements looked like on base. She’d been deployed to the field, where it’s not a guarantee you come out alive, so stripping a couple layers to pee isn't so embarrassing in front of company. Natasha, she’s just never known privacy a day in her life. Sex has been normalized since she’d sprouted her first pubic hair, and probably before then too, but she’s never told you that, and you’ve always avoided asking. Even when she’d joined Shield, she’d been a lower level agent who wasn’t yet above the communal showers and locker rooms. She might know that her body is her own now, she might value that, but some morals aren’t relearnable. Yelena’s the same way. You’d seen her completely naked before she’d even let you in enough to stop constantly threatening your life. Despite naked Russians and veterans being in your life for years, it never fails to make you blush.

Natasha loves to watch you squirm. That’s just the kind of person she is. Now is no different. Her hair might be pulled up into some kind of intricate half-up half-down style, two little sections pulled away from her face, lifting her hairline and pulling the corners of her eyes just the slightest bit taut, but that doesn’t discredit her natural edge. There’s glitter sprayed into her red hair, there’s a shimmer on her skin from the body oil you’d set out on the counter for anyone to grab, but she’s still deadly. There’s still a knife beneath the pillow she leans against, it might just happen to be wrapped in pink, white, and orange duct tape. That’s one thing Natasha’s learned how to do that Yelena still hasn’t. Natasha welcomes life into her trauma in ways that are beautiful and tragic. She still can’t walk around without a weapon. She feels too vulnerable, like she’s practically asking for an ambush, but she decorates the handles of her blades when there’s something worth celebrating in the near future. Not all of them, not the ones that she’s going to be the most inclined to use in a fight, but the ones that she’ll only reach for if she really needs them; if it's her life on the line. Natasha Romanoff may not be entirely free of the trauma imparted on her aggressively in childhood and adolescence, but she’s free enough to know she wants to die with character, because she’s not made of marble, she’s made of flesh, and blood, and bones, and she’s not just another widow in the endless sea of assassins, she’s a person with a girlfriend and a sister, and a best friend that she considers another little sister at points, but only when she has clothes on and isn’t flush from a third round with her girlfriend.

“What did you need?” Natasha rises from the bed, your bed, the one that you paid for and dressed in silk sheets specifically for her because you know cotton against her thighs reminds her too much of the red rooms' wool blankets after a nightmare. She might have a better grip on reality now, she might not be as prone to flashbacks and panic attacks as Yelena still is, but she’s still a woman living with more PTSD than anyone in your history books. She still deserves to be cared for like she’s delicate and irreplaceable.

She has an outfit already laid out. Maria’s in the closet, and you make a note of how the blue-eyed latina is halfway hidden behind the door as she shimmies into whatever clothes she and Natasha packed with enthusiasm before they came down from the upstate Campus. You giggled as you watched Natasha hold up a white baby-tee with black and red letters. Treat Her Right. It was so boldly on the nose for her. Not in your face pride, not cheesy enough to elicit an eye roll or a grimace, but just casually enforcing that she’s in fact a lady lover when she’s not saving the world. Sometimes even when she is. You recall a few kisses or two happening beneath falling rubble and alien weapons.

“You’re not really going to wear those jeans are you? Skinny jeans, Natasha? Really?” You deadpanned, glancing at the black skinny jeans she hasn’t been able to let out of her sight since she’d first been given a shield credit card and stocked up on whatever she thought fit Western style at the time. She’s gotten more accustomed to comply with fashion trends, and she officially has the coziest oversized hoodie out of everyone you know, but those damn skinny jeans are looking like they’re going to have to be clawed out of her dead, cold hands.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “What did you need, detka?” She reiterates, and you grin at the term of endearment that rolls off of her lips in exasperation. Natasha rolls her eyes at your reaction, throwing the jeans aside again and plopping down onto the edges of the bed in only a pair of underwear and the baby-tee.

Maria finally steps out of the closet, and you manage an amused laugh at her lesbian flag cargo shorts and self-cropped wife beater with rainbow letters that spelled out ‘a little bit fruity’. Sometimes you just couldn’t with them. Sometimes it was impossibly hard to remember that they were the only reason the entire world was still spinning, and that they couldn’t sleep soundly at night because of it.

“Oh! Vodka.” You grinned, perking up slightly as you remembered why you initially entered the guest bedroom. “Yelena used the rest of it to make Jell-O shots last night, and didn’t think to tell me that before we went to bed.” You sighed, trying hard not to let the little inconvenience ruin your entire mood now that you remembered it had happened at all. You wanted this to be perfect for her. You needed this to be perfect for her. Natsaha’s first pride had been perfect. She tells you that every year. She’d gone with Maria and Carol Danvers, and a rather excited Clint who had dragged Laura Barton around New York City pregnant and all. Carol hadn’t known that. She’d just thought Laura was strategically sober and knew how to have a good time without alcohol. Natasha had told you that was the pride she realized she didn’t like men at all; that she only associated feelings of love with them because it was drilled into her head in the red room that men are the ultimate honey trap. Women are harder to break, harder to seduce. Men are easy if you show enough skin. “I think she’s on the verge of a breakdown in the bathroom. So, if I give you money, can you run down to the corner and pick up another bottle?”

“I brought some.” Natasha shrugs, nodding toward her duffle bag that's placed in the corner of the room between the nightstand and the wall. Your eyes trail over to the black bag embroidered with her Red hourglass symbol, a ‘seasons end’ gift from Tony the last time they’d momentarily gone their separate ways after a crisis.

“Oh, great!” You beam, a bright smile on your lips before her words catch up to you. “You brought your own vodka to my apparent? When worst case scenario there’s a liquor store on the corner?” You stare at her, lips fluttering. Sometimes, Natasha Romanoff can still catch you off guard after all these years.

“I’m Russian.” Natasha shrugs, and Maria just shakes her head from the corner of the room, willing you to go with it, to just accept that Natasha is a lotta bit weird and a little bit a certified functioning alcoholic. ”Do you want to do a shot?” She changes tune, and you grin eagerly, bouncing on your feet.

Your head bobs up and down, and your eyes glance at the clock on the wall. It’s eight in the morning, almost nine if you consider that it’s exactly thirty-seven after, but the premise stands that people are still down below rushing to work or somewhere prestigious, and here you are, preparing to start the day with a shot a vodka as breakfast. “Yeah. I’ll just bring one to Yelena. I think she needs a minute to just…take in what she’s getting herself into.” You say, knowing Natasha was going to tell you to find her sister before she broke into the bottle of Grey Goose.

Natasha frowns, and Maria inches toward her compassionately. Her fingers rub at spots of collecting tension in Natasha’s shoulders, and while the ginger relaxes, it doesn’t entirely quell her accumulating resentment. “Is she going to be okay?” Natasha’s voice cracks. She knows what it feels like to stare straight down the barrel of a gun pointed at your identity. She knows what its like to battle for control, what it’s like when the first brush of brass against your fingertips shoots through every nerve in your body. Yelena is strong, but Natasha doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to face something like this only a year after getting out. ”I can hang back with her today. You and Maria can go.”

You shake your head, because while Yelena would appreciate having the option, you don't even want that suggestion anywhere near her. “She’s never going to let me help her if you’re always there to guard her corner.” You smile wistfully, because you know that Natasha means well, that she’s only looking out for her baby sister the way she wishes she could’ve all their lives. You know this means a lot to her too. It means a lot that her entire life hasn’t been for nothing. If she never got out, Yelena may never have even had the chance at all to figure out who she loves when her body isn’t being used for profit or murder. Natasha wants today to go okay, for Yelena’s sake, but if it doesn’t, her sacrifice was already worth it for getting them this far. “She just needs a minute to herself. I got her a flag pin and I think she just…I think this is the first time she’s realizing she’s not who she thought she would stay after you killed Dreykov. We both know she doesn’t give herself enough credit as it is, let alone does she ever stand far enough back to realize she’s entirely reinvented herself how she wants to be perceived.” You smile. Yelena’s changed so much since the first time you met her. She’s a sarcastic little shit, she always has been, but she’s less defensive with it now. She doesn’t guard her every feeling like you might use them against her. She cut her hair, painted her nails for a while before she decided she doesn’t like when it chips, and she pierced her ears. She bought a vest, and then she bought a dress, and she realized she hates dresses when she has the option to wear pants instead. Yelena has changed. She has grown. She has healed. You smile knowing that all of that is unconditionally true. “It’s not a bad meltdown, it's just… well it’s the inevitable one.”

“Your meltdown was rather cute.” Maria hums, reminding Natasha that this was normal, this was just another step to Yelena establishing herself as a free agent, not just a hive mind. ”Has she ever told you the story?” Maria’s eyes sparkle as she glances at you, stepping up to be Natasha’s voice of reason before the Russian can convince herself they should just abort while they’re ahead, while Yelena’s still in one piece.

Your lips curve upwards. It’s not often you witness Natasha Romanoff blushing, especially not regarding a story of her recent past. You can’t pass this up, so you shake your head eagerly. Natasha Romanoff can break anyone she wants, but she wouldn’t dream of touching the pure light that shines in your eyes. “What? No. Tell me! Please, please, please!” You gasp, and Maria laughs like you’ve just made her day.

“Oh, I could have so much fun with you.” She notes, and your cheeks flame. Maria is undeniably attractive, Natasha as well. Their sly comments unmake you every time they hit the air, and when Yelena’s around to overhear them, she bustles with laughter that you think could shake the frame of every building in the world.

“You have to stop saying shit like that.” You groan, your hands coming up to hide your blushing cheeks from their equally strong gazes. Natasha and Maria don’t know that you’re not just Yelena’s best friend. They have no reason to assume you’re anything more when all they’ve ever witnessed is an intimate brush of hand against the small of your back that could’ve just been mutually needed at the time. You’ve had no reason to run your mouth and share the news anyway, not when it doesn’t hold any weight in your relationship with them, but a world of difference in theirs with Yelena. Natasha knows her sister is gay. Yelena had told her that before she’d even known there were more umbrella terms and categories to shift through and understand. She doesn’t know that Yelena’s finally found a label that she thinks fits her, or that you happened to be intertwined in the existence of her identity. Even if Natasha knew that Yelena was your partner, you know it wouldn’t stop the comments. It’s just the kind of relationship you have, and you knew her ten years before she ever told you Yelena existed at all. “Will you just tell me the story?”

“Laura kissed me.” Natasha deadpans and your eyes widen, because surely Laura Barton, mother of three, ex-shield agent, long-term committed wife hadn’t kissed Natasha Romanoff three months pregnant in the middle of New York City at the parade, but Natasha was telling you it happened, and Maria was nodding enthusiastically behind her. Maria and Natasha lie, but never to you. ”And I freaked out.”

“She turned to me with the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen and said ‘I think I love women.’ and then proceeded to break down crying about how many years she’d wasted fucking men on her own volition. Clint had to peel her off the corner and apologize to the Drag Queen she fell into while he pulled her away.” Maria laughs and Natasha reaches a hand back to slap at her waist, huffing beneath her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. It still took you a year to ask me out after that.” Natasha huffs petulantly and Maria laughs, shooing her up and off the bed. “Shots, right. I almost forgot.” Natasha nods, racing toward her duffle bag with wiggling fingers. “I don’t want anything super loose.” She says randomly, and it takes you a moment to remember you’d thrown a fit about her skinny jeans, and she’d thrown in the towel and put them aside. Her easy compliance was questionable in retrospect, but you didn’t care enough to wade through potential intentions.

“I have denim shorts I was going to wear before I found the skirt I was originally looking for.” You wave her worries off, “I’ll grab them. Don’t start without me! The Jell-O shots on the door, not the shelf, are doubles!” It’s a jumble of words and instructions, but Natasha salutes dutifully as you buzz out of the guest bedroom like a bumblebee — entirely harmless.

The hair dryer is still whirling in the bathroom, the door closed. You can’t hear anything concerning, there’s no crying or soft whimpering, so you assume Yelena’s fine, just taking her time, wrapping her head around all of this as best she can before she lets it all assault her without walls to deflect the contact of the hits. She’s going to go into this with an open mind. She’s going to let herself just be in the moment with you. If Natasha can do it, Yelena knows that she can do it, but she has to get herself to that point first. You let her have however long she needs. After a year of walking this tightrope with her, you know what works best for her now. You know that sometimes, she needs to be alone for a while with her thoughts.

When you return to the kitchen, Natasha’s tipping back what looks like a third Jell-O shot and Maria’s leaning over your countertop, her fingers scrolling through the iPad you have perched against the backsplash. You laugh brightly when Lady Gaga starts playing through the speakers, and quickly you tell her to add another song to the queue, one by a newer artist you and Yelena discovered on a walk through central park a month ago. The little things that remind you of Yelena are your favorite. This song. Kraft. Hot sauce. American Pie. Curly fries. Lightning bugs. She’s everywhere and nowhere, in the little things, not the bigger picture. You think that explains Yelena’s impact on the world and your fragile heart beautifully. After all, even if you’re in the shadows, you’re around for someone to hold onto and protect; darkness can be a beautifully warm blanket when it’s not a death sentence.

Natasha pours you a double, and she slides it down the counter toward you with a lively grin on her lips. There’s a pink Jell-O shot on the counter too, waiting for your touch like it’s meant to be a chaser. It’s another one of the doubles, and you roll your eyes at her intentions to get you drunk before you even step out on the confetti littered streets.

“Ready?” She smirks at you over the rim of her shot glass, her lips curved into a challenging smirk while her eyes throw daggers at you tauntingly. She drips with danger, and it swallows you entirely as you attempt to match her glare and slam the bottom of the shot glass against the counter, and then tip it down your throat. The swallow that comes after all of it sloshes down is thick and unpleasant, and your nose scrunches to avoid coughing at the splatter of a burn against your uvula. Your hand reaches for the jell-o shot, and without breaking eye contact with Natasha, still determined though you’re not sure about what, your tongue eases the gelatin away from the plastic container and flicks it onto your tongue with a hum of readiness. It’s sweet and bitter, it burns when you swallow before it’s soothed by the temperature of the Jell-O. You grin, cheeks flush, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

Maria, who had evidently taken a shot when your back was turned, comes to you with a High Noon already cracked open. You grin, reaching for it eagerly. It’s pineapple, one of your favorite flavors, and she knows that after many years of supplying it to you beneath tables at Stark events. It soothes the remainder of the burn when you take a sip, and you hum eventually in satisfaction.

“They might be a bit big around your waist.” You hum informatively, glancing at Natasha who's finally stepping into the denim shorts you’d handed over and concealing the lovebites left on her thighs from Maria. She takes a moment to consider your advice, fixing the button and the zipper, pulling the waistband up to her mid-belly. “They look good.” You decide before she can share her own opinion, and Natasha nods agreeingly.

“You’re ass looks great.” Maria interjects suavely, and her pinches her thumb and pointer finger together in a smooth motion, her lips pursing into a pleased frown as she bobs her head. You giggle, taking another sip of your high noon. Natasha rolls her eyes, turning toward the counter again.

”Detka!” You hear Yelena’s voice over the music, and you grin with delight. Natasha’s poured you another shot, and it sits next to one that’s been intended for Yelena all along. Her eyebrows pull together at the endearment that rolls off of her sister's lips and echoes through your quaint little home. Yelena’s not the nickname kind. She’s even less the petnames kind. Natasha can count on one hand the amount of people Yelena’s ever called anything other than their name. The list is short because it doesn’t exist. Yelena doesn’t even call her anything other than a variant of her name.

Your lips curve into a sly grin, and you down the second shot she poured without flinching. “Told you you should stop saying shit like that.” You winked, leaving any direct conclusion up for her to draw herself. Maria laughs, and you grin all the way to the bathroom, not wasting your time with knocking before you enter.

Yelena’s hair is entirely dry, but your hairdryer is on the floor by the toilet, still humming, still blowing hot air into the room at a quiet volume that still sounds too loud. You frown, setting the shot glass down on the counter to reach for it instead, turning it off once its between your soft fingertips.

Yelena yanks you into her chest, her arms wrapping around your body until you’re certain she’s trying to fuse the two of you together. It’s only been half an hour since you left her alone, but it feels like a million years whenever you're away from her. Your head rests on her chest, and the faint pulse of her heart beneath your ear is soothing. The music plays overhead, Maria and Natasha are singing along in the kitchen, but it hardly penetrates this moment with Yelena.

She has a white t-shirt on, and black shorts with silver chains hanging from the pockets. The pin you’d given her is secured to the patch of fabric on the front of her thigh, you can feel the cold metal against your bare skin. It makes you smile, and you know it lightens her heart when you reach down to brush your finger against it.

“Does it feel good? To have a little piece of you to touch? To share with other people without having to explain?” You whisper softly, not wanting to scare her off when you can see that she’s doing her absolute best to open up to you right now. No walls. There’s not a single wall in her usually guarded green stare, and you know just how much effort it takes for her to come at any conversation with a fully open mind and fragile emotions.

“I’m asexual.” She whispers as an answer. You don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of hearing Yelena whisper her sexuality into the limited space between your bodies. You don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of knowing you’re the only person she trusts enough to explore this with; to confide in. “I..I do not—”

“Yelena, you don’t have to.” You shake your head, because you know she’s been trying to find a reason for this in her life. If that doesn’t make sense, it because it doesn’t make sense. You’ve tried to tell her that no single event made her this way, that asexuality isn’t something born of natural consequences and trauma responses, but she’s never been quite able to accept that she was born this way. She’s never been able to accept that Dreykov took something for her that she never had any intention or thought of giving away at all. It’s one thing to take her virginity, to take Natasha’s virginity, to take the virginity of every widow that’s come through its doors, but she feels impossibly violated sitting with the newfound reflection that if she’d never been forced into sex and honey trap missions, she might’ve never even had sex at all.

“I need to tell you why I can’t love you.” She whispers. Her words are a desperate plea, but you can’t give into them no matter how easily you typically crumble. “I want to explain to you. You show me all of this love, and I can’t do more than hold your hand. I— I don’t want to do more!” She’s never been allowed to choose how she expresses emotion. She’s never been allowed to decide whether a victim is sliced with her smallest blade, or ripped apart by her bare hands. She never got to pick who she seduced, or when it happened. It’s been a year, but that’s not enough time to unlearn everything you’ve ever known. Yelena still thinks she needs to be worthy of your love in physical ways. She still tries to tether herself to physicalities to express what she doesn’t know how to say. It’s worked for an entire year, but it’s failing her now.

“You don’t have to do more.” You whisper, because it feels important to match her energy right now, even with Born This Way blaring through the speakers overhead. “Yelena, I’ll never need a reason to show the world how much I love you. Never. Sex isn’t everything in a relationship. Not to me. I love you because I love you. I was just always meant to.”

“Natasha was… Natasha was raped too, and she still enjoys having sex with her girlfriend.” It feels wrong to talk about Natasha’s trauma without her present, but it’s the only way Yelena knows how to encapsulate everything she’s feeling in a way that you can digest. She’s glad that you have no idea what it’s like to attempt to move on with your life when so much of it is haunted, but it puts her even farther out in a sea of isolation when you just have no real way of knowing what she means fully.

“Natasha, is also a lesbian. She’s also something that the General never would’ve allowed either of you to be.” You crane your head to the side, your hands gently cupping Yelena’s cheeks. She thinks so highly of her sister, you don’t think she even realizes that she’s so much like her. “She’s sacrificing normative relationship culture just to call Maria her girlfriend. Natasha’s also had fourteen years to adapt to society, and freedom, and accepting her sexuality. Believe me, she didn’t always have a healthy relationship with sex. I was still with the IT department when her and Maria started sleeping together. Every single day, multiple times a day, like she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. She had a meltdown the first time Maria told her to wait until after their mission debrief. I thought someone had died, she stormed out, slammed the door, didn’t come out of her quarters for two days. She was breaking down, Yelena.”

Yelena looks surprised, like she can’t imagine Natasha ever being in a position any less stable than she is now. You’re happy she doesn’t know what it was like to experience Natasha Romanoff before she’d decided to let the world into her heart again. It would’ve destroyed her to realize how truly broken she’d been all those years ago.

“I am asexual.” She says it again, and you nod just as acceptingly as you’d done the first time. “I was raped. I have sexual trauma, but that did not make me asexual. I was born this way. It is just who I am.”

“You were born this way. It’s who you are — at your best and your worst.” You parot, and a single tear leaks from Yelena’s eyes and she lets her forehead fall into yours. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.” You whisper, your lips brushing her cheek. Yelena shivers, she curls her fingers into your top. She holds you tightly against her chest.

“You don’t mean that.” Yelena whispers. It breaks your heart. She breaks your heart just as much as she fixes it. “There’s no way you could mean that.” Her voice is hoarse. Her eyes are wet.

“I mean it with every fiber of my being, Yelena Belova. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. I wouldn’t change a single thing about how we met, or this last year we’ve had together. None of it. I don’t need your body to have you. You’ve let me have the best and worst parts of yourself without it. What more could I ask for from you?” Your fingers curl into the hair at the name of her neck, and Yelena sighs softly as she deflates into your touch, nodding like what you’ve been telling her for months is finally, finally setting in. “And we both know I have my own methods.” You wiggle your eyebrows, and Yelena goes flush, chuckling softly as she dips her head and agrees that you definitely do have your methods with still finding pleasure.

“Yelena!” Natasha yells, and you shake your head. “Did you take the shot!” Yelena rolls her eyes, but glances down at the counter where you’d placed the counter. Her lips curve into a grin, and she reaches for it as she untangles her limbs from yours. You nod once, glance that she’s in better spirits already.

“Yes!” She calls back once it’s down her throat, and you laugh as she makes a face at you in the mirror as she reaches for your practically empty High Noon. Whatever was left is very quickly gone, and the can makes its way into the garbage can besides an empty bottle of Nair. Only Maria Hill would nail her legs. “I’m excited.” She tells you eventually, when she leans in close to the mirror and takes an eyeshadow brush to her waterline. She sketched in deep purple shadows, and you smile at her willful acceptance of the asexual flag. You know that once the novelty has expired and she doesn’t feel so fragile exposed she’ll find comfort in the community and freedom, but for now she’s just taking it one minute at a time.

“I’m excited.” You tell her, fixing the hem of your skirt. “Nat’s the best to come with. I’m thinking we let her and Maria blindly lead us around, and see how long it takes for her to get pissed that we're not keeping up quick enough.” You get caught in the purple eyeshadow. It’s captivating, but so are her eyes without it. Yelena smiles softly, her hands frame your face.

“YA tebya lyublyu.” She breathes, sweeping down to peck your lips. Your belly buzzes every time she kisses you, no matter if it’s intended to take your breath away or not. Yelena’s kisses are rare, beams of sunshine that spontaneously fall from the sky onto your skin. They’re not something she can give you a lot of the time, trauma to sift through still a priority ahead of romantic relationships, but when she finds the strength to have comfort in her own freedom your heart soars higher than all the lives lost to get here. Phil Coulson would adore Yelena Belova. You think she’d have a friend in him too.

“I love you more.” You whisper, dropping your head to her chest. You press a chaste kiss to her chest where the fabric of her t-shirt covers soft freckles. “So much more than you’ll ever know.”

“You know I do not like that.” Yelena frowns, and you laugh softly, inching out of her arms again to grab the gleaming silver knob in the door. “Natalia brought vodka?” She questions when it dawns on her that she’d never heard anybody leave.

“Yeah.” You snort and Yelena nods, something you only see through the reflection in the mirror before you pull the door open.

“Ah, I knew she would.” Yelena praises and you shake your head, guiding her down the hallway where Natasha and Maria are both working through the Jell-O shots. You assume they’ve made it their mission to individually try every flavor, so when Natasha hands you an orange one without any hesitation and Maria bats a yellow one at Yelena, neither of you hesitate. You trust that they know that you’ll like best, not that you’d complain either way.

“What’s that?” Natasha asks around a mouthful of Jell-O, swallowing after it’s off her tongue and the weight of her curiosity is distributed to Yelena.

“I am an asexual lesbian.” Yelena says simply, shifting her stance to show Natasha the asexual pride pin she’s secured to her shorts proudly. Natasha closes her eyes for a moment, slightly shocked that the first time Yelena’s brought up specifics for her sexuality it’s two terms she wasn’t even sure the blonde knew, but her heart swells with pride and you can tell by the way she shrugs haphazardly.

“Okay.” Natasha nods, and Yelena nods too before her eyes flicker to Maria seeking approval she didn’t know she wanted. Maria offers the same nonchalance and you can visibly see Yelena relax more than she has in the last month.

“Okay.” Yelena whispers softly, a smile on her lips that doesn’t dwindle once throughout the remainder of your day.

#yelena belova #natasha romanoff #maria hill #blackhill #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill x reader #yelena belova x you #maria hill x natasha romanoff #yelena belova comfort #yelena belova oneshot #yelena belova fic #yelena belova hurt/comfort

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florencebirdsong · 2 months ago

Text

Fake Marriage, Real Hands

Agatha Harkness x Reader x Voyeur!Wanda Maximoff

Agatha All Along Week 2025 - Day 2: Fake Marriage

Summary: Wanda wants some off-air entertainment. Her fake married neighbours are encouraged to fulfil that want.

Tags: fake marriage, dubious consent, fingering, voyeurism, telepathy, Dom Agatha, Voyeur Wanda, Sub Reader

No pronouns used to refer to Reader. Reader is wearing a skirt and refers to themself as a lesbian.

Words: 1,648

Authors note: why did no one say my masterlist was super out of order...idk how I even did it that badly

ao3 | masterlist

“Darling,” Agatha calls from the window bay.

You’re on the couch, looking over the newspaper for any inaccuracies or magical hiccups. The level of detail it has is a little scary to think about. With the way Agatha has described Wanda’s life being a television show, you had originally thought that everything was a prop. Yet the only thing off about the newspaper Agatha took from Wanda’s house is how new it looks.

“Sweetheart,” you call back in a deadpan voice.

You’re right there. She could just turn around and talk to you.

“Don’t be like that,” she says and sashays over. “I know you missed your little get together with your friends but meeting the new neighbour is more important, wouldn’t you say?”

You sit up straighter the second you hear her voice. It’s different. Higher, and softer. You paste a smile on when she mentions your friends. You’re stuck in here. Beholden first to the whims of the witch who had saved you and taken up residence in your home, and second to your witch neighbour. Who happens to be insanely powerful and has brainwashed the whole town.

You aren’t sure how powerful Agatha is in comparison to Wanda but she has finangled her way into the main storyline without suspicion and dragged you along with her as her wife. Being single is too big of an inaccuracy for the time period but two lesbians is apparently just fine.

Agatha hasn’t really explained the logic or magic to you. Only that Wanda can see what happens inside the house thanks to her magic but Agatha can always tell when Wanda’s paying attention. Agatha can protect her and your thoughts from being read. Which is a blessing because she had very flippantly told you where you would have been staying otherwise and your attic hasn’t been cleaned in a very long time. Being Wanda’s slave stuck motionlessly in one room hadn’t sounded any better.

She’s watching, Agatha says needlessly into your mind.

“I’m not that sad,” you say, the script Agatha gives you feels natural to follow now. “You know how the girls get when someone new moves to town.”

“Don’t I ever,” Agatha says as she plops down beside you. “You sure you aren’t upset hon? I thought of something that might cheer you up.”

“Oh?” you must be misinterpreting her tone. Her eyes drop to your lips. “Oh.” You were not. Well, the show has kept well away from anything explicitly sexual. Wanda will get bored soon. You can play along. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“We haven’t got anywhere to be.”

Agatha leans closer. You haven’t really talked about this part of the pretend relationship. With shows back in the day not daring to even air handholding, you hadn’t thought you needed to. That doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it. Agatha is magnetic and Agnes is flirty enough to have you burning up.

She’s starting to get suspicious, Agatha says. You’re not sure what’s nerves and what’s fear but you lean in and kiss her. Your goal was to keep it light. Barely more than a brush of your lips to keep Wanda reassured. Agatha has different plans.

She presses closer. A hand lands on your thigh and quickly climbs higher. You almost pull back but instead of diving under your skirt she uses it to pull you closer. The moment you lean into it her other hand reaches out and she drags you onto her lap, slotting a thigh between your own. You make a surprised sound but she doesn’t let your lips part for long. You indulge in the feeling for a few moments longer before pulling back, needing to breathe.

“Someone’s eager,” you say. Is she still paying attention? you ask.

Yes. Agatha drags you across her thigh. You moan into her mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” Agatha murmurs as she trails a line of slow kisses down your neck.

“We’re barely ever apart.”

“I’ve missed this. We’ve been so busy with the new neighbour.”

You feel a wave of— of something, outside of yourself, the moment Wanda is referenced. You pull back again.

“Save it for tonight, hound dog,” that’s a nickname people used around this time, right? You have no idea. “I’ll plan something special. Right now I need to finish this.”

You push yourself up. Agatha lets you go with an exaggerated pout. You’re about to make a joke when you blink.

Agatha is above you, straddling you. Her dress is gone. Your shirt is gone. The cold leather of the couch is a shock to your warm skin. You gape up at her for the half-second you get before she’s kissing you again.

She really wants to watch this happen, she says and you can feel her amusement. Your brain hasn’t caught up with the sudden change yet. Agatha bites your lip and the slight shock of pain has you present enough to remember you need to try and follow whatever blocked directions Wanda is giving you. Agatha normally tells you what the script is but the wordless commands are absent.

You kiss her back. You hope Wanda assumes something benign about your frozen moment but that thought quickly disappears when Agatha licks into your mouth. Fuck. You moan again.

Agatha’s hands grasp your hips. They’re cold and you shiver. You can’t really think passed her lips. Her hands skim up your sides and settle to play with your tits. You tremble below her.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this it’s almost overwhelming. It’s hard to think but Wanda is watching. You need to perform.

You hesitantly raise your hands and rest them on Agatha’s shoulders. You feel her amusement.

“Don’t be shy, hon. You’ve seen it all before.”

Right. Totally. Except you haven’t and you have no idea how you’re meant to act like you are. You reach behind her and undo the clasp of her bra. Agatha pushes past your hesitation by pulling it off herself. You gape at her.

“And here I thought you were exaggerating when you said every time you see me naked it’s like the first time.”

You’d think it’s a good save if you could think at all. Agatha is above you, on you, in all her naked glory.

“You can touch,” Agatha prompts you. Swallowing hard, you do. Agatha hums and pushes her chest forward. You get a little braver, pinching and rolling her nipples until Agatha’s face relaxes into one of pleasure. You’re wondering if you should find a way to stop or brave reaching lower when Agatha makes the decision for you. She grasps your wrists and guides your hands to her hips.

“Good job, hon,” she smiles. You try not to visibly react. Her smile growing tells you you’ve failed. “Need a hand?”

You don’t need to ask if Wanda is still watching. You can feel her, like a pressure building against your skin. Is Agatha losing control or is it only your thoughts and autonomy she protects?

You nod mutely. Your brain isn’t quite online yet. Agatha looks almost eager as she helps you out of your bra. Is that what she’s really feeling or is she playing your wife Agnes? Her hands drop to your skirt and she runs her fingers over it.

“How do you feel about leaving this on? Make everything a bit more naughty,” she gives you a wink. Definitely Agnes.

“Okay,” you breathe. Agatha flips your skirt up and tugs off your underwear. She doesn’t give you time to feel self-conscious. Her hands slide up your thighs and her fingers slide through your wetness. Your legs open wider subconsciously. You hadn’t realised how wet you were. “Oh,” you gasp when she finds your clit.

Her fingers start slow, her eyes intent on your expression. You try to hold still as long as possible but it’s not long until you’re squirming below her. Agatha smirks and trails her fingers lower. Your hips twitch when they nudge your entrance. She quirks a brow in question. Wanda’s presence is a pulsing pressure and it’s been a long time since you’ve felt an ache like this. You nod.

Agatha slips one finger inside of you. She gives you a few experimental pumps before slipping in a second. You moan.

Agatha supports herself with one hand by your shoulder before she leans down to lick and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck. You tense but her hand never slows and the added electricity has you sinking into the feeling. When you’ve relaxed back into her, she scrapes her teeth over the now tender spot before biting down.

Fuck. How did she know you’d like that?

I’m in your head, dear, comes her voice, I know exactly what you like.

Shit.

Agatha sucks and you whimper. She laves her tongue over the new mark after she releases you. Your hips move to meet her thrusting fingers. You don’t remember when they started.

Agatha continues to nip and suck down your neck, sending sparks along your spine and to your core. Wanda’s presence gets stronger the tighter the coil winds inside of you yet you can’t reach your peak. The awareness of someone watching has given your orgasm stage fright. Can you fake it?

You feel something be pulled deep in your mind. Moments later the wave of pleasure crashes. You arch into Agatha with a loud moan. She guides you through it.

Fuck. That might’ve been the hardest you’ve ever come. Agatha’s smirk tells you she caught the thought.

“Alright hon?”

Your voice cracks in the middle of your hum. You can still feel the after effects of Wanda’s own orgasm.

“I think it’s your turn to try and tame this tiger,” Agatha says.

“I’ll try my best,” you say weakly. “I’d never want to leave my wife wanting.”

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