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#Broken Glass Chapter 6
missmaywemeetagain · 1 year
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Broken Glass Chapter 6 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)
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Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)
Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹
TW: Some SMUT (HUZZAH! finally! but it's not what you think, sorry 😇). Anita. Angst. Grief. Temper tantrums/angry E. Some small/little/subby!e & caretaker!Lori. Some historical inaccuracies.
Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.
Rating: Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact   ||      Word Count: 10.9k
A/N: Lord have freakin' mercy, I'm sorry this took so damn long, but the next chapter is FINALLY HERE! For a variety of reasons, this was a doozy for me to get through, so thanks for your patience. ❤️ It's a bit of a rollercoaster of ALL THE THINGS. You want some smut, it's there! Tropes? You got it! Every emotion under the sun? Yep! It is messy? In more ways than one...😏 You've been warned. (And let me know what you think!!)
And thank you SO MUCH for the encouraging comments and support coming in about this work. I was really afraid no one was interested in this one because it's such a slow burn, but y'all are giving it some love and that makes my heart sing! ❤️ Thank you for continuing to reblog, like, comment, and ask! FYI the taglist is being WEIRD and I don't know why so I'm sorry if you don't get tagged and should be!!
Feel free to visit my Wattpad or AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences! xoxoxo
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He can’t stop thinking about you.
It’s annoying, really, considering all he’s got to focus on right now. Smiling for the crowds. Getting home. Interviews and pictures. Staying upright. Breathing.
Elvis closes his eyes and immediately thinks about the way your fingers splayed through his hair.
Stop it.
Your thumb catching his lower lip.
This isn’t the time.
Oh, it most certainly is not. He’s finally a stone’s throw from home, working his way through the waiting crowd at the train station, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing and his breath short.
Your hand presses his lower back, urging him forward.
He swears you have some sort of sixth sense in regard to how he’s feeling, or maybe you are really just that good at your job. Unfortunately, all he can think about is the warmth of your body pressed against him and the cool touch of your soft lips on his.
More than likely, you are just a distraction from how emotional he’s feeling. Being back in Memphis, as unusually cold and snowy as it happens to be, has him some kind of way. Perhaps it is the presence of his hometown fans. Maybe it’s the kindness of Gary Pepper, the young man with cerebral palsy that heads one of his fan clubs, when he says that he’s sorry there aren’t more people to greet him—"It’s a school day, after all.”
Biting his lip, Elvis fears he’s noticeably choked up at that. “I’ll see ya later, pal,” he manages to get out and makes note to find some way to thank the man properly in the future. It’s a testament to people like Gary that he still has fans at all after being away for two years. None of this was promised, neither is it continued to be.
Elvis wonders if he deserves it.
As overwhelmed by the crowds as you’ve been so far, it shocks him when you break ranks to kneel down and introduce yourself to Gary. There is a caring kindness about you in that moment that threatens to break his heart and he’s not sure exactly why. It strikes him that it’s because you have been so walled off behind that tower you’ve built around yourself and for the second time in the last 24 hours, he’s gotten a glimpse of who you might truly be on the other side of it.
And he has the strangest feeling that he is the prodigal prince returning home from a far-off land, with you, his new princess, already tending to his subjects as if they were her own.
A shuddering breath rolls through him at that.
Once again, you notice, shooting him a veiled look of concern. Saying your goodbyes to Gary, you grab Elvis’ hand and press along. You squeeze and he feels like crying all over again.
Get it together, Presley.
He breathes and continues forward, smiling away the feelings that threaten to consume him whole. Bright and cheerful, he plasters a grin across his face as they finally make it to Captain Woodward’s police cruiser. Your hand releases his and he suddenly loathes the fact that he’s pushed into the front seat (Better for the pictures, son, he hears the Colonel say).
But he keeps smiling and waving as they pull away. The truth is, he is happy to be home, it’s just clouded by the unease of the last few days and the fact that he might be goddamn dying. Not to mention the part where he’s not exactly sure what his place in the world is now.
And thirty minutes later, when they roar through the iron music gates, his colonial mansion coming into view for the first time in 18 months, his heart pounds.
Home.
It’s just family and close friends now, which has him sighing with relief as he hugs and kisses them all, yet a tension pulls in his chest. He realizes it’s because one very important person is missing.
Elvis had done a valiant job the past year and a half making sure that he stuffed down his grief in all the right moments and only let it out in lonely hours in the middle of the night. He was too damn sensitive for his own good, and God knows there was no room for that in the US Army, not if he wanted to fit in. So, instead he filled his days with maneuvers and his evenings with music and his nights with getting his dick wet, and there wasn’t much time in between to ponder much else.
But now that he’s here, and she most certainly is not, his mama’s absence hits him with the force of a freight train. A sob threatens to escape, his throat closing around it to keep it at bay, and it feels as though the wind is knocked out of him. Every ounce of exhaustion from the last week seems to close in on him all at once, and the only person who could truly soothe him is dead and gone.
The gentle press of your hand against the small of his back has him blinking and turning to you. He almost forgot your presence in the chaos, which he knows is incredibly rude of him because you are in a strange place with strange people, but somehow, once again, you just seem to know he’s not okay.
He needs space. He needs to breathe. He needs to get his shit together because this day is far from over and he’s already spent.
“Y’all, y’all, I need a minute to get ready for the onslaught of reporters that are on their way. We’ll pick this up tonight!” he shares loudly.  “Lemme give you the grand tour,” he then whispers to you, taking your hand and yanking you past the white columns and into the house.
The smell hits him first. It’s familiar, yet there is something stale about it. Truth be told, he hadn’t lived here long before he was drafted, but it’s the house that called to him, the one meant for his mama. And now that he’s back, he feels certain she’ll reappear the moment he opens a door or rounds a corner.
Your eyes grow wider with every room as he pulls you through hallways and up and down stairs. His speech is as rapid as his tour, and he doesn’t fully stop until he’s in front of his mother’s room, the one he requested remain untouched until he got home. But now that he’s faced with it, he cannot open the door. He falls into a paralyzed silence.
“Elvis?” you ask quietly. “Are you alright?”
After a moment, he clears his throat. “Um, I...this is—was—my mother’s room.”
You pause, then nod. “I know it’s little more than words, but I am so sorry,” you say, squeezing his hand. It prompts him to look at you, and he finds your gaze knowingly, openly solemn. The look of someone who understands loss.
He does little more than tilt his head at you in question, and you sigh deeply in response, as if gathering strength. He knows that sigh, too.
“My mother died when I was fourteen,” you finally speak, “and she was…my everything.”
Fourteen? Dear God. He thought losing mama at 23 was awful, but he has no idea who he’d even be if she’d been gone at fourteen. The weight of just the thought feels impossible.
“Oh, honey,” Elvis manages to get out and suddenly he understands so much more about you, about those walls you keep around yourself. He wants to weep for you.
You shake your head. “It is what it is,” you say, trying to brush away obvious emotion. “I just want to let you know…I understand, is all.”
“Thank you,” he says, squeezing your hand back.
“Is it the same? Her room, I mean?” you ask suddenly.
He’s surprised by the question but nods.
“That’s nice. I mean…it’s nice that you still have some of her here,” you say in a faraway voice, looking at the closed door.
It’s a strange thing to say, and you seem to realize it the moment it’s out of your mouth.
“I’m sorry, that’s…I just…my father got rid of all my mother’s things within days of her passing. I only have a few small things of hers that I managed to steal away before he wiped her existence from our house,” you say so quietly it’s almost a whisper, a lingering bitterness in your tone.
“Little bird…” he starts, but then falters at what to say. His heart aches for you as much as it does for himself, and he feels an anger towards your father that feels awfully similar to the anger at his own when Vernon shacked up with Dee not months after his mother’s death.
A father’s betrayal is no small thing.
It makes more sense to him now why a such a young girl would throw herself into her work and schooling as you have. There’s an inkling of understanding as to why you dropped your entire life on a dime to come work for him when you don’t even care for his music or his fame. But something tells him there’s much more to your story than this tragedy, though by the way you shake your head and shutter off those pesky emotions, he guesses he won’t learn more today.
“What’s next?” you ask, your face now a picture of calm.
“The bedroom,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows to lighten the mood.
Your scoff and eye roll tells him he’s on the right track.
His door is open when they reach the suite, he’s guessing to air it out for his return. He ushers you in quickly, then shuts the door behind him. The plush, dark décor instantly comforts him, the sound proofing of the room shutting out the hustle and bustle downstairs. He can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves his lips.
Suddenly, he can’t get out of his dress uniform fast enough. It’s strangling him. He wrestles out of the jacket, stripping himself of the shirt and tie just as quickly, leaving him in his white undershirt and pants.
“I take it you’re done with the uniform?” you say with a touch of sarcasm and a raise of your brow.
“I’d burn it if I could,” he replies with a snort, “but I gotta wear the damn thing for the Sinatra show in a few weeks.”
You hum and nod. “How are you feeling? Let’s take your vitals,” you say, gesturing to the edge of the bed, and turning round to look for something. You find it in a pile of suitcases left near the door, which must have been brought up while he was giving you the tour.
“Exhausted. Wired,” he answers, flopping on the bed. Oh, how he’s missed his own bed.
“Well, you should get some rest. It’s been a very long few days.” He sits up when you come in close in that serious way you do when it’s time to do your job. His heart begins to race. Faint hints of rose water and jasmine fill his nostrils as you bend down towards him with all your tools in tow. It’s part of the scent that he’s learning is distinctly you and it has him flashing back to holding you close back on the train. When your head leans close to secure the blood pressure cuff, he can almost feel again the way his lips brushed over your skin, how they pressed into your lips…
The thought has him breathless now that he has you in his bedroom.
Elvis shakes the thought away because he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that at all. It was just a rehearsal, a way to get you more comfortable around him, and it had worked. You hadn’t jerked away from him all day and even seemed to tolerate his presence somewhat pleasantly. Or at least without outward distain. He wasn’t about to screw up your progress by having actual feelings towards you. Because that would be ridiculous.
Too bad his body isn’t getting the memo.
“Your pulse and blood pressure are higher than I’d like,” you tsk down at him, “and you seem a little out of breath.”
Case in point.
“You need to rest, Elvis.” You turn away, unknowingly leaving him wanting.
Lord have mercy. He needs to get a grip because right now all he wants is a tussle with you in this big, inviting bed. Instead, he shakes it off and clears his throat.
“No time, little bird. Gotta get ready for all those reporters showing up here in…” he checks his watch, “less than two hours.”
“Another press conference? Elvis, the doctor talked about this—you have to slow down. This isn’t good for you,” you bristle, putting your hands on your hips. For whatever reason, he finds it devastatingly cute. A slow grin begins to spread across his face, but he stops himself before it rankles you.
He rises from the bed, stepping into you, drawn to you in some inexplicable way. He resists the deep urge to grab you by the waist and pull you in tight. You’d probably slap him silly if he did.
“I know, honey, I promise I’ll rest after the party tonight.”
Your brow furrows and the defeated look on your face has him chuckling a little. “There’s a party tonight? You can’t possibly be serious.”
“I never joke about parties,” he says, trying to match your serious face, unable to stop himself from grabbing your upper arms.
You look like you are ready to rip into him but then your demeanor changes completely to one of concern.
“Elvis, this isn’t going to work if you don’t make some concessions. There’s only so much I can do for you if you refuse to help yourself,” you say softly, looking up at him with those crystal blue eyes of yours.
He can deal with your annoyance, but the concern in your tone has him shifting uncomfortably.
You’re right, of course you are, but he doesn’t want to think about how shitty he feels or how dramatically he’s going to need to change things if he wants to get better.
If he wants to live.
“Alright, honey. How ‘bout after the press conference I take a good rest?” he concedes.
“How about that and ending the party at a decent hour?” you add not letting up on the way your eyes bore into him.
A challenge.
It warms his blood the way you stand your ground, bartering with him to get him to do what you want, both in a frustrating way and in a way that doesn’t help his urge of wanting to ravish you with kisses. He pushes that tantalizing thought away as quickly as possible, before it gets him into trouble.
Honestly, Elvis wants to fight you on the subject because it’s his life and his house and his party, dammit, but instead, for whatever reason, he growls out a low, “Fine.”
You nod, seemingly satisfied for the moment.
“Now I have a date with my shower. You can freshen up after I’m done, darlin’,” he says, turning on his heel and stripping off his undershirt as he grabs his kit and heads into the bathroom.
“Okay…wait, what?” he hears your voice pitch up and pokes his head back out as he strips his pants.
“I said you can have the bathroom after me, honey…unless you want to join me?” he quirks a brow. Blood rushes straight to his crotch at the thought of you in the shower with him. He’s very glad for the fact that the rest of his body is concealed by the door, otherwise you might see how Little Elvis perks up at the idea.
“Join y—I—no, Elvis!” you sputter. Your cheeks blaze red, letting him know your mind likely went where his did, which sends a tingle down his spine. “I mean, shouldn’t I just get ready in my room?”
Oh. Well, this should be interesting.
“Honey, you are in your room.”
You blink, looking utterly confused. “Excuse me, what?” You look around, eyes landing on your suitcase in the corner.
“Well, the doc said I needed 24-hour care, little bird. What if somethin’ happens when I’m sleepin’? It’s not gonna do me much good if you are way down the hall when I need ya,” he says matter-of-factly, watching the realization finally hit you. “That and you’re supposed to be my girl, and no girl of mine is sleepin’ in a different room, if we’re bein’ honest,” he chuckles.
The look of fear that crosses your features sobers him quickly, however.
“I-I-I can’t—where will I sleep?” He can tell you are trying to keep your panic at bay, albeit unsuccessfully.
“In that giant bed right over ‘dere,” he points.
Your eyes go wide, the blood draining from your blushed cheeks, and he’s suddenly afraid you might pass out.
Elvis hastily grabs his robe hanging on the back of the door and throws it on over his briefs before crossing the room to you. He doesn’t want to spook you, nor does he want you keeling over, so he leads you to a chair in the corner. Making himself the least threatening he can think to, he kneels in front of you.
You are frozen, staring at the bed with the most trepidation he’s ever seen of a woman in his room.
When he speaks, it’s nice and soft, “Hey, hey, little Lo’, it’s gonna be fine, now. Remember, I ain’t never gonna hurt ya, okay? I’m guessin’ you didn’t think about the particulars when you signed on for the job, now didja? Not an innocent young thing like yourself, ‘course not.”
You shake your head.
“But I promise, I ain’t out to do anythin’ bad to you, honey. I won’t touch you. I won’t hurt you. And just look at that bed—it’s—it’s stupidly big. You can be on one side and me on the other and fit a whole ‘nother bed between us, right?”
You seem to be doing the calculations in your head and finally nod, your shoulders relaxing a little.
“And don’t you worry your little head, I always sleep in pajamas,” he adds, trying to ease you further.
“Oh, Madone, I hadn’t even thought about that…” you start to spiral, wringing your hands in your lap.
“And now ya don’t hafta!” he says a little too cheerfully, trying to steer you back on course.
You keep nodding, as if convincing yourself this is going to work, and he desperately wishes he could put you more at ease. It’s strange, watching you build those walls back up around yourself, brick by brick.
“Yes. Okay. This is fine. This is just part of the job. It makes the most logical sense,” you murmur. Your eyes closed, your chest rises and falls with a few deep breaths.
When your eyes finally open again, they are relatively calm.
“Now, I’m gonna go get ready. There’s room in those drawers over there for your things, and that closet there is yours for the takin’, so you make yourself at home,” he says, showing you what is now your space.
You gulp but nod in understanding.
“Are you gonna be alright, Lo’?” he asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. A desperate part of him wants you to be comfortable here, wants to please you, though he’s not entirely sure why. You’re here to help him, not the other way around.
“Of course. It just…took me aback is all. I’ll adjust,” you say, gallantly, obviously still trying to convince yourself.
“Okay, darlin’.” Elvis pats your hand gently and your eyes meet his with a cautious understanding. Crisis averted, he stands and heads back into the bathroom to clean up.
Based on your hesitation to be intimate on the train, Elvis kicks himself a little for not having the forethought to warn you about the sleeping arrangements, but his mind has been so wrapped up in his own problems, he just didn’t think about it. That and it’s been a while since any girl has so blatantly not wanted to spend the night in the same room with him.
Relishing the heat of the water of the shower unknotting his tired muscles, he tries not to let his ego get in the way about the whole situation. It becomes clearer by the minute that your hesitation around him is less about him specifically and seems much more to do with your experiences and upbringing.
Or so he hopes.
Not that it matters…she’s here for a job, not for romance.
His brain whirrs with a multitude of thoughts as he finishes getting ready. It feels strange being here, dressing in normal clothes, getting ready for a press conference. He thought it would be harder somehow to flip back into being the Elvis Presley. And it’s true, he’s not quite the kid who left. He’s hardened some. There is a man looking back at him in the mirror now, and behind the sparkle of excitement in his deep blues lies the ghost of some cold, hard truths he doesn’t particularly want to face.
Maybe that’s why he chooses an all-black ensemble, playing with texture versus color. He pulls on charcoal trousers, just a little bit lighter than the rest of what he’s picked out. The thick, high-collared black sweater he pulls over his head is offset by the deep, rounded plunge that exposes his chest. Placing a gold medallion there helps add a bit of pizazz to the monochrome get-up, and he finishes with a boxy black jacket that broadens his shoulders and that’s just shy of thick enough to be a coat.
Elvis swoops his chestnut hair up into a somewhat familiar style and notices he doesn’t really need much around the eyes—he’s so damn tired, the darkness that rims them gives him the effect of wearing makeup when he isn’t. His color is up at least, though by the way his heart zips and his body warms, he’s wondering if it is another fever doing the job.
Whatever the cause, he looks pretty damn good, and right now that’s more than he could hope for.
Exiting the bathroom, he sees you hanging the clothes from your suitcase. There aren’t many, he notices.
Gonna have to take her on a shopping spree, he thinks excitedly, by the looks of your simple and conservative wardrobe. If there’s something he loves besides women and music, it’s buying clothes. The thought of dressing you up to match him, fashioning you to him, and being able to give you things you’ve never had sends a thrill vibrating through him. He can only imagine how amazing you’d look all gussied up based on how pretty you already are in your conventional and minimalist style.
You must sense his eyes because you turn and catch his stare. Your eyes widen the slightest bit at his appearance and take him in from head to toe with what he can’t tell if it’s a critical or admiring look.
“Whadya think?” he smiles broadly, turning around with his arms out.
After a moment, you speak, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you in a hospital gown or your uniform, I’d have to say you look…acceptable.” Your eyebrow quirks with a hint of judgement.
Acceptable?
He can’t help but chuckle a little at how unphased you seem to be, and he wonders if you truly see him this way or if you are just hiding behind those walls of yours. Maybe it’s a little of both.
“You might be my toughest audience, little bird, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs.
You nod. Then your eyes flit to the bathroom. It’s subtle, but he takes the hint quickly.
“It’s all yours, darlin’. I-I’ll, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” he says, stumbling through his words the moment he thinks about you being naked in his bathroom. He’s going to have to get over that, quickly, or else he’s gonna get himself in trouble right quick.
He turns to leave the room and is halfway out the door when he hears you speak again.
“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly.
He turns to you, seeing a genuine yet embarrassed look on your face.
“For being so patient with me. I know this can’t be easy, having me…invade your life like this,” you continue, waving a hand.
“I appreciate that little bird, just like I know it ain’t easy for you either. And you…you can invade my life all you want, darlin’,” he says with a flirty grin, trying to lighten the mood, but it comes out more breathless and endearing than kidding.  
Your unreadable but poignant stare rakes over him for a moment, sending a cascade of shivers down his spine. Then, you blink and look away, and it’s gone, whatever it was that ignited this feeling inside him. You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, and he’s not entirely sure how he feels about it, to be honest.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he says, clearing his throat and nodding before leaving you and closing the door behind him.
Sweat has gathered just above his upper lip. Elvis isn’t sure if it’s from knowing that you are currently undressing in his room or if it’s from the fever. Either way, he wipes it away, takes a deep breath, and makes his way downstairs to get ready for the reporters to arrive.
*
The interview itself is relatively short, a bunch of men crammed into Daddy’s office out back, but before and after the cameras follow him around the estate. He’s charming and polite as he eats bits off a huge fan made, guitar-shaped cake. He poses next to a Christmas tree from two years ago. He laughs and is pleasant and does everything he needs to do to make them happy.
Luckily, this part comes relatively easy for him. There’s no need to fake being excited to be home or for the movies and albums and appearances he’s already been signed up to do. No, his trepidation comes from other things. Like if he will be well enough to follow through on his commitments. Or if he can keep his declining health from the very people who surround him, so gleefully eating up his every word and gesture. And then there is the maneuvering around all the questions about the girls.
He knows Cilla ain’t gonna be happy when she sees this interview with the way he’s got to brush her off, but with recent developments and being back stateside, he has bigger fish to fry. Honestly, the little girl that captured his attention so fiercely in Germany feels a world away, almost like he dreamt her. So much has happened, and while he loves her and has a deep need to mold her to him, there is no way she is ready for any of this. Especially not now.
Plus, there is Anita to consider. Lovely little Nita, who promised to be good for him. The woman he wrote sweet promises to from across the sea as he entertained a multitude of other women in the meantime. The girl his mother begged him to settle down with.
Elvis thinks he should feel worse than he does for fooling around, but what was he supposed to do? Be celibate for two years? It wasn’t remotely realistic, and the situation was made worse by his grief over mama. He needed the company. He wasn’t gonna be sorry for that. But he doesn’t feel great about the lying or for quite accidentally falling for Cilla because Nita will most certainly see that as a betrayal. She already suspected as much in their last conversation, and they’ve been awfully cool with each other since, so he’s not even sure there is much of a relationship to come back to. But he has love for Anita, he knows that.
Sex is one thing, and love is another.
Unfortunately for him, he has the bad habit of being in love with more than one woman at once, most of the time. It’s in his DNA or something. But it causes a helluva problem when he’s got girls wanting to settle down because he can never seem to choose, nor can he seem to bring himself to ever actually break up with them. That damn jealous streak in him doesn’t help either.
Proof positive of this is how he’d sent Elisabeth, the young woman he’d fallen for in Germany right after mama died and made his “live-in” secretary, on to Graceland upon his return, even though they weren’t really an item anymore and even though he suspects she and Rex are having an affair. The thought of that boils his blood despite the fact deep down he wants it to be true because then it doesn’t have to be his responsibility to let her go. But it hurts his ego all the same.
Elvis is full of infuriating contradictions and he knows it, although he’s got enough problems as it is without getting caught up in how it all makes him feel.
Seeing Anita is both something he desperately needs yet also dreads, his stomach rolling with just the thought of it. He loves her still, though he’s not entirely sure in what capacity, but he’s certain she will want what he promised in his letters: marriage and a family.
And one thing is for sure—he can’t possibly start a family with a woman he can’t tell his secrets to, not when he’s not one hundred percent sure if that’s what he wants and who he wants it with.
This should tell him all he needs to know about his future with his little Anita, but the need for the comfort of someone familiar overrides all logic in his feverish brain. He can’t help but call her to come immediately, even though initially he planned for a private reunion after things had settled down some.
“Little,” is all he can bring himself to say when his blonde baby makes it through the front door before the party starts. He doesn’t hesitate to scoop her tiny body up into his arms and hold her like his life depends on it.
And she is warm and familiar and comfortable, Elvis thinks, as he buries his head in her hair and she clings to him. But the moment is quickly overridden by the tendril of doubt that climbs up his spine and sinks itself into his psyche. His heart begins to throb in his ears, and he pushes the bile that creeps up his throat back down with a gulp. Pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, he prays it will feel the same as before, that something, anything will be the same as before he was sent overseas.
It isn’t.
Lord, it breaks his heart a little, a flood of searing heat rolling through his chest when he pulls back and forces his best smile to paint his face. He can’t parse out right now why it isn’t, not exactly, not when she’s looking at him so expectantly. But he has a pretty good idea it’s not just the other women that has him feeling off about this, about her.
It’s cuz you’re a damn lying liar, a bitter voice in his head throws up at him, and you know you ain’t gonna tell her shit about all the ways you’ve betrayed her and especially not how you’re dyin’.
Shut the fuck up, he hisses back.
Perhaps this is why he pretends everything is right with the world, folding her into his arms through the evening, petting and patting her like he never left. He so wants everything to be perfect, to fit like it’s supposed to. He wants—no, he needs—a good woman by his side, to take care of him. Mama knew that. And she liked Anita for it.
But the ache in his heart and in his stomach tells him she’s not the one, yet his innate need to please still whispers maybe, maybe, maybe, matching the rhythmic pounding of his heart.
Later, when he pulls Little up to his room, he tells himself he’s gonna be honest with her, tell her everything and then they can start with a clean slate. But the words get trapped in his throat and he kisses her instead.
Elvis lets his body take over, even though it’s burning up, because this he knows how to do right. His lips plunder hers, hoping for salvation, and her mouth opens, ready and willing to take him. Her mewls and sighs, now those are real, those are something he can latch onto. It doesn’t take much at all to get her under him in his huge bed, his hands and lips exploring all the familiar dips and curves of her perfect form.
“You my good baby? Little was good while I’s gone?” he baby talks breathlessly at her, nuzzling her nose as his fingers dance over her body. Yes, this is familiar, this little vulnerability he lets leak through, this need to be insular and small and needy and taken care of.
She nods, furiously, replying breathlessly, “Yes, of course, baby.”
Elvis believes her, mostly. He wants to. She’s a good Southern girl who promised to wait for him, and he takes that for what it is. Because of this, he won’t go all the way with her, he never does, wanting to keep her pure.
But why? You ain’t gonna marry her.
The thought hits him like a truck, causing him to halt his ministrations.
“You alright, Elvis?” Anita asks, those pretty eyes of her clouding with a tinge of concern.
Shaking it off, he covers quickly, “Y-Yeah, o-of course, Little. Just missed ya, is all. Takin’ it all in.” Throwing a dopey grin on his face helps reassure her and his Little smiles back at him, her tiny hands running over his face and neck and chest until he remembers he doesn’t want to think anymore.
By the time he’s inched his hand up her skirt, feeling the center of her panties damp with slick, his mind finally relents, and his arousal takes over fully. It’s blissful, giving himself over to pleasure after so many days of racing thoughts. After having to fight his body at every turn.
No, now Elvis just slides his hand between her legs, grinding his quickly hardening cock into her hip, not a thought in his head other than bringing them both to the brink. He’s gentle, though, when he slips under the cotton, causing a whimper to escape her as he flits his fingertip over her slit and circles the little bundle of nerves at the top.
Anita keens and grinds into his hand, her hip rubbing deliciously against his length. With a moan, he pulls himself up, moving in between her creamy thighs to perch on his knees. This he can control; this he can satisfy.
“Show me how my yittle baby been so good while I’s gone,” he purrs in her ear. The way she’s panting with want and dripping onto his hand will have him finishing too soon if he’s not careful. “With no one to pet yer yittle kitty, ya must be all tight in there for me, right baby?”
“Mm hmm,” she nods, barely able to get the words out, as breathless as she is.
“Lemme see,” he commands. She opens her legs, knees coming up readily to accommodate him, lifting her hips up when he pushes her skirt to her waist. He smirks when he sees her choice of white panties exposed, the dark little curls visible through the thin fabric and the grey damp patch in the center that shows her need for him. The sight sends more blood rushing to his dick and it twitches roughly, scraping against his slacks.
But that will have to wait because he has an inspection to do, one he takes seriously as he hooks the crotch of her panties with one finger and pulls it to the side, revealing her bare, shining pink petals to him.
Oh, Lord have mercy, how he loves pussy, he thinks, swallowing a groan as he bends his head between her legs. She shudders at his proximity and bucks at how he parts her swelling lips with a long finger. He places a hand over her furry mound and presses lightly to still her, thumbing her clit.
Nita whines at that.
“Be a good baby,” he scolds. She stills. He finds himself wanting to rut into the mattress, but keeps himself on his knees instead, needing to see to her first.
He uses two fingers to part her lips, swallowing a moan when he sees her tight entrance leaking for him. “Aw, look at that. Kitty’s weeping for me, needs me so bad,” he coos. It’s a little wicked how he teases her, dragging a finger through the slick, up and down, watching her clench around nothing. But he can’t help but be enamored, can’t help how he brings his finger to his lips to taste the tang of her there.
“Elvis!” she squeaks, a wanton mixture of need and shock. She watches with wide eyes when he smiles at her before putting his entire middle finger in his mouth, lathing it with his tongue.
“The real test, baby,” he says, then takes his spit-soaked digit and slides it right up into that tight little hole. He can’t help the way he groans at just how damn good it feels to sink into her wet heat.
From the way she gasps and writhes and by how her walls clench around his finger, he reckons she’s passed his little test. “Such a good baby. No one’s been in my little kitty, now have they? I can feel it how good you been,” he praises, punctuating his words with a gentle thrust.
Anita cries out at that, the sound going straight between his legs. Slowly (because damn, she really is so very tight), he works his finger in and out, watching how she begins to rock with him, how she scrunches her eyes shut when he couples it with tight circles on her clit. His hand shines with her arousal in the low lighting, and the sloppy sound of her loosening has him clenching his legs together. Elvis wants to see her come apart, but at this rate he’s so aroused that it’s likely he’s gonna finish in his pants if he’s not careful.
Honestly, he’s so mesmerized by it all that he doesn’t even care. He’s dumb with her and can’t stop himself from lying down and pressing his lips to her clit, causing her to sigh out in surprise. This wasn’t part of his foreplay pre-army, so he can understand why she nearly levitates off the bed when he swirls his tongue around her and continues to work her with his finger. The tangy taste of her and the way she’s starting to tense around his finger has him dry humping the comforter, the friction causing his own moans to vibrate her core.
She’s panting his name now and all he wants is to make her scream.
Lapping and lathing and swirling, he bathes her sex with his tongue and he knows she’s close, and damn, he is too. He curves up and finds that little spongy spot deep inside while he sucks on her button and there it is.
“Elvis!” Anita shrieks his name, her hips coming off the bed as she clenches and shudders around him.
He digs his pelvis into the mattress as she soaks his hand in her slick. Removing his finger, a deep need overcomes him to taste her release from the inside. He licks her clean, spreading her open and driving his tongue deep into her as she squirms against him. Elvis moans into her soaking cunt and thrusts again and again into the friction of the bed under him, drunk on pussy.
Which is where you find him as you unsuspectingly walk through the bedroom door.
“Oh—my god! I—Oh!” he hears you gasp, and Lord damn him if his orgasm doesn’t hit him so damn hard that he can barely breathe with the combination of factors at play. For some reason, watching you stand there watching him covered in slick and tonguing pussy as his release erupts through him has him inconceivably turned on. It’s like the dial of his orgasm is suddenly turned up from 10 to 100. His cock pulses violently and he can’t stop the groan that emanates from deep within, can’t stop the hot ropes of seed that soil the inside of his slacks, coating his lower belly.
Anita screams, and in trying to cover herself, ends up driving his face deeper into her core. His eyes roll back into his head, and he finishes with another moan and an aggressive shudder.
In his post-coital haze, Elvis slowly removes himself from between Anita’s quivering thighs, sitting back on his heels. He sees you standing there in the doorway, frozen stiff with those crystal blue eyes blown wide and your hand covering your mouth. He’s not sure if he wants to laugh, cry with embarrassment, or invite you into the bed. Mostly the latter, he thinks, by the way his softening cock twitches at the thought. Regardless, as improper as it is, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you, and neither can you stop staring at him. Refracting and locked in this strange and intimate gaze with you, he knows he should do something to stop it, to stop this wild desire of his to try bring you into this decidedly pornographic scenario. His breath heaves from exertion and lingering arousal but he remains still, watching you, cum dripping down to his legs and seeping through his pants.
Anita is the first one to move, shoving a pillow on top of her lap with a yelp.
That seems to break the spell and set things in motion. “I-I-I-I’m so, so sorry,” you finally stutter out, covering your eyes, finally looking away.
“What are you even doing in here?!” Anita almost wails.
Oh shit.
When his clouded brain finally realizes the variety of bad implications your appearance brings, he shoots a warning, pleading glare in your direction. But in your mortification, you don’t see it.
“I—I was just coming to get—” you stop, eyes darting, finally catching the wild look on his face.
Anita wiggles around him and pulls her skirt down as fast as possible. “To get what? What could you possibly need to get in Elvis’ private bedroom? You can’t just come in here!” she huffs.
There’s no way that you could know that no one enters this room without express permission, and regardless, he had told you to make yourself at home. He hadn’t been thinking when he brought Anita up here because, well, this had never been an issue before.
You look at him for guidance, but his brain is barely functioning, so he has none to give, sputtering himself. He watches the wheels turn in your brain, how you go to speak, but stop yourself when realizing you can’t reveal that you’ve likely come up to check his vitals or come to bed. Any remotely truthful response is unacceptable, and because you are indeed no actress, it all reads on your face.
Anita jumps to standing, smoothing her skirt. Her eyes narrow, darting from him to you and back again.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding!” Anita seethes, turning on him. “Elvis Presley, what have you done?”
It’s like a bucket of ice has poured over what should be post-orgasmic bliss.
“I ain’t done nothin’, I swear, Little!” he placates, throwing up his hands.
“Oh, don’t you ‘Little’ me!” she points scathingly at him. “You told me she was fixin’ to see some friends down here and y’all were doing her a favor cuz she’d helped you after you hit your head! I should’ve known. I’m such a fool.” Anita’s eyes fill with tears as she shakes her head.
“I didn’t—it’s not—,” you start, trying to salvage the situation.
“Shut your mouth and get out, you silly girl!” Anita snaps.
You look horrified, but he watches as that unshakable face you get when doing your job suddenly slides into place. The look in your eyes when they meet his is apologetic, and then you leave quietly, the door clicking shut behind you.
“This isn’t what you think, Anita.”
“Don’t. Just—don’t. I’m not an idiot, Elvis,” she says, angrily wiping tears off her cheeks. “I just knew there were others…but you were tellin’ all your stories. I just never thought you’d bring them home…”
It both breaks his heart and pisses him off.
“Aw, shit, that’s not the way it is, that’s not the way it is at all, you know how I feel about you…”
“Elvis, I know we were cool to each other last time we talked, but—but you brought home a girlfriend!”
Her tone sets something off in him, flipping that switch inside that always makes him regret his actions later. Maybe it’s because he’s exhausted, sick and because his life doesn’t feel like his own and hasn’t for a long time. Or it’s because he’s truly trapped in this situation and knows there’s next to nothing that he can say to mend this without telling the truth, and that’s out of the question. But he can’t stop the wave of heat that boils through his veins, the one that wants him to burn it all to the ground.
Elvis rounds on her, defensive as can be, the words pouring out of him before he even has a chance to think on them. “You know why—you know why I was cool to you? This very reason, right here. I-I-I-can’t talk to you hon. You mess with my damn head, man. I-I-can’t count on a decent conversation with ya. Ya start throwin’ up all kinds of shit to me. Talkin’ about ‘girlfriends’ and all that nonsense. Been the same since I landed in Germany. You’re just a fuckin nag, that’s all, you’re just a nagger that’s all.”
It's cruel and he knows it by the way she looks like she’s been slapped in the face.
“Are—are you kidding me? It’s one thing when it’s across the ocean, Elvis, but quite another when you bring one of your whores home with you and in the same breath try and seduce me!” she spits.
Irrational, red-hot anger rolls over him at that. He chuckles darkly, livid, “Oh, I didn’t try, honey, I succeeded. And you shut your damn mouth about her. Don’t you dare call her—she’s no whore.”
“Oh, please. I didn’t want to believe it when I overheard Lamar talking about walking in on you two on the train. I wanted to think that you’d left it all behind. You said as much, but you and your never-ending parade of lies…” she says, her voice pitching up and grating on his last nerve.
His jaw clenches, ticking. “Why can’t you be sweet instead of bitchin’ like an old naggin’ ass wife, huh?” he says viciously. “I can’t stand that, I can’t stand it. Baby you’ve got me crazy, you know that? You get worse a-all the damn time, a-and th-th-that’s why I—"
“If you feel so strongly, Elvis, then I—” she starts in again.
“Well, that’s the way I feel about it a-a-and y-y-y-you don’t have to be that way either. Not to the extent that you are.”
Anita tries to interject but he’s countering her every move before she can even play it. They’ve danced this dance before, enough that he knows just how far to push before he breaks her, breaks them.
And he knows that’s what he’s got to do.
“No, you don’t have to be that bad,” he says vehemently, pointing at her, silencing her. “I just know you’re gonna start throwin’ something up to me a-and I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fuckin’ exhausted and try and try to give you what you want, but it’s never enough, is it? You turn me the fuck up, you know that? All the damn time! I-I-I can’t stand it. I-I can’t stand it Anita, I swear I can’t stand it.”
“Well, if you’d do right by me, this wouldn’t be an issue!” She’s crying now, the tears running down her pretty cheeks, smearing her makeup.
Still, he charges forward, his words brutal and cutting. He wants to tell himself this is just an act, but it’s as if every ounce of frustration he’s had the past week, the past few years, is pouring out of him all at once, directed squarely right at Anita. Elvis knows there’s enough truth in all this to make it real. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew the moment he saw her walk in the door that this was through, that it has to be. And that makes him even angrier.
“Naw, if I saw you every damn day, you’d still start that shit.” He raises his voice, tinny and high, horribly mocking her, “’Who’d you see today? You g-got a girlfriend? I’m surprised at you, blah blah, blah,’ and all that bullshit,” he spits.
“That’s a lie!” she wails.
“Naw, it ain’t no lie. Naw, you bring it up every time I talk to you.”
“Maybe if you didn’t make me a fool by flaunting them all in front of me, in the papers and the magazines, and bringin’ your whores into the house, I wouldn’t have to bother you about it!”
There it is again—that word, associated with you, the woman who’s done nothing to deserve such slander, no matter what you have to pretend—and his heart thunders in his ears. Rage fully consumes him. He goes nearly blind with it.
“She’s not a fuckin’ whore! I want her here, and it’s MY GODDAMN HOUSE!” he screams, kicking a nearby suitcase and sending clothes flying. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his now-wheezing breath. “And I ain’t gotta justify anything to you!”
Anita looks as wrecked as he feels, but she manages to straighten and pull herself together in the heavy silence that follows his outburst. “Fine. Then you ain’t got to worry about me botherin’ you anymore, Elvis. This is over.”
There it is.
He closes his eyes as she storms out of the room, the logical, non-enraged part of him hating how he’s treated her, how he’s failed her.
It had to be done.
Letting out a choking breath, his heart feels like it’s about ready to pound out of his ribcage and race right out of his chest. His body is railing against him the way he railed against Anita.
Serves you right, you sonnofabitch.
It’s as if everything is colliding in him at once. The weight of his responsibilities coupled with that of his treacherous body on top of having to push away someone he cares for makes it all feel like much too much. A faraway feeling comes over him, as though he’s watching the way he rampages through the room, tearing through unpacked suitcases like a starving dog in a dumpster, from someone else’s eyes.
Lord, he doesn’t want to care. He desperately wants to pretend it’s all been one of his night terrors—that he’ll wake up in some bizarre place and find out the last few years, since mama died, have all been a figment of his imagination.
But no, he’s knows it’s real. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if it wasn’t. His body wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t true.
Racing thoughts mimic his racing heart, his labored breath: Why, God? Why am I given these trials? Is this the terrible price I gotta pay for the fame and idolatry that I never truly asked for?
Elvis hears a mournful, roaring wail before realizing it’s coming from him, that the horrible sound is emanating and rumbling out of his chest. His vision swims with tears and the room spins around him, but there is a terrifying calm in the center of this storm where he finds himself now, watching the wreckage, unable to change anything.
No one will ever understand. I am utterly…alone.
And then the hideous whisper of his self-destructive streak: Burn it all to the ground.
“Elvis!” The door flings open as you barrel through, calling his name, your eyes wide with worry.
Lamar clamors in after you, putting himself between you and Elvis. “You don’t wanna be here for this, girly,” he says, trying to push you back out.
The overwhelming churning ocean inside him agrees. He wants you nowhere near him when he’s monstrous like this. The plea starts in his head… Get out, get out, “Get out!” Elvis bellows throwing whatever is nearest to him at the wall with a crash.
You jump, wincing at the sound, but when you open your eyes, they are filled with determination and something else he can’t parse through in his state.
“Let me go!” you snap at Lamar, fiercely enough to surprise him into releasing you. Then, you are in front of Elvis, your eyes piercing through the cloud of his anger.
“No. I will not go. Elvis, look at me. I will not go.”
The room snaps back into focus so suddenly he feels whiplash.
Blinking, he flounders under your stare. Part of him is livid at your audacity, for not obeying, for simply existing because it reminds him of his dire situation. But another part is desperate for you to make this stop.
Something between a growl and a whimper escapes him as he tries to turn away, but you pull him back. Your cool hands are like aloe against his burning, sticky cheeks. He slaps your hands away, suddenly ashamed that you’ve touched the evidence of Anita’s arousal that still covers his face, that he subjected you to that intimate act, that he got off on it.
“Just leave!” he shouts, heaving, tears of frustration now spilling down his cheeks. He’s dizzy with emotion and from not being able to catch his damn breath. His knees maddeningly buckle under him, and finally, he gives in, sinking his knees into the plush carpet.
“No,” you respond calmly, coming down with him. You turn your head, addressing Lamar, “You can go.”
The quiet order you have given has Lamar leaving and shutting the door without question. If he was thinking straight, Elvis might be amazed at your confidence, but the world is still swirling like mad around him. He doesn’t want you to see him weak or feeble. He closes his eyes, wanting it all just to stop, hoping to disappear.
“Elvis. Elvis, I need you to breathe as deep as you can for me.”
Your tone has him obeying even though he feels petulant about it.
“Again. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”
He does, oxygen shuddering through him.
You guide him like this for God knows how long, your presence a balm to his gaping hole of a heart. His shoulders slump and he starts to feel boneless, the fire of his anger cooling with each inhale and exhale.
Eventually, he can feel you begin to rise, and his eyes fly open in a panic. His hand grasps your arm, and he shakes his head violently.
“I’m not leaving, I’m just going to grab some things from my bag. Keep breathing.” You remove his hand gently, with a soft smile.
Elvis nods, closing his eyes again because it all still feels too big and the exhaustion he’s pushed off for too long is winning the battle. He hears rustling and the tap in the bathroom turn on, then off, before the padding of your feet on the carpet reaches him again. Sensing you before him, he opens his eyes and looks up at you mournfully through tear-soaked lashes.
You bring a dampened washcloth to his face, gently wiping away the salt of his tears and the arousal left from his romp with Anita. Then you wipe his hands, one by one. He wants to be embarrassed about it all, but all the fight has drained out of him and the action is so soothing that he can’t help but let you continue. He doesn’t deserve this quiet comfort, he thinks, yet is powerless to stop it.
“Up,” you instruct. There’s a softness to it that makes him want to do whatever you ask. You hold out your hands to help him off the ground, then wrap an arm around his middle which he is thankful for when he realizes he’s not steady on his feet. The few steps to the bed are conquered slowly and he falls to the edge quite ungracefully once you release him.
When you seem satisfied that he’s not going to slide off and back onto the floor, you pop a thermometer in his mouth and wrap a cuff around his bicep, taking to task without a fuss. He tries to not let his thoughts spiral again, focusing instead on the swish of your skirt against his knees.
“Hmm, 102.4,” you tut softly, looking down at him with compassion and an eyebrow quirk that intonates an I told you so without it being uttered. “And your blood pressure is too high. Probably from all that…exertion.”
It’s all he can do to just meet your eye, apologies for the multitude of bad behaviors you’ve witnessed tonight caught in his throat. He’s never been good at saying he’s sorry, but he wants to, he does, but he can’t seem to get anything out, much less an apology. Instead, he just looks up at you and hopes his eyes convey the words he cannot say.
You blink in response, your crinkled brow the only fissure in your currently calm exterior. Pushing it away as fast as it appeared, you reach into your bag to retrieve what looks like a bottle of aspirin, handing him two and a glass of water that you must have gotten from the bathroom.
“Swallow those down, and then let’s get you into some pajamas and into bed,” you say, looking at him for guidance on where his pajamas might reside.
He points to the set of drawers across the room. Popping the pills in his mouth, the taste is acrid on his tongue, and he washes them down quickly with the water.
There is something about how you’ve taken over the situation so deftly and completely that has Elvis at your mercy. No one, not even his mama, was ever very good at bringing him down from his bouts of temper, his explosive emotions usually being too big for anyone to handle. But somehow, you employed such a calming presence that he almost wonders if you hypnotized him.
Regardless, you hadn’t run in the opposite direction or turned into a trembling mess before him, and this shocks him, based on what he knows of you and knows of those unfortunate enough to be subjected to his temper. He has not scared you away, and that is something strange indeed.
A sudden and unwavering need for you courses through his tired body and weary soul. It’s different from his attraction to you, something more. It makes him feel raw, vulnerable, and a little afraid at how deeply he craves comfort from you, how he wants to anchor himself to you because he feels so adrift.
Perhaps this is why he gives himself over to your firm but quiet orders, finally deferring to you in a way that is both relieving and disconcerting because he feels so damn small. But he’s just so drained and worn and for once, doesn’t want to be in charge anymore.
His shoulders slump and his limbs feel heavy, so he does not resist when you begin to strip him of his top layers. In fact, the only help he gives is to lift his leaden arms to allow you to pull his sweater up and off, leaving him bare-chested before you. He finds himself desiring the intimacy of letting you take care of him, watching you sleepily through heavy lidded eyes as you move around him. The feel of your fingers brushing lightly against him when you lean close to remove the medallion from around his neck sends his heart fluttering.
You are singularly focused on doing your job, that professional concentration of yours playing over your features, assisting you in your goal of getting him comfortable and resting. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’ve helped others like this in your work based on your deftness, despite your lack of experience with men in general, but part of him wishes he were special—that he alone receives this level of care from you. The possessiveness of the thought swims away and he’s left feeling glad there are no expectations of him, other than to let you work. He relishes in this, letting you maneuver him like a child into his dark, silky pajama top. Frankly, he feels nearly catatonic, so your assistance is both necessary and pacifying.
It's when you undo his belt that a sense of bashfulness heats his cheeks. He’s not wearing any underwear, but that’s the least of his worries. No, it’s the fact that, in his burst of dramatic temper, he had forgotten he came in his pants, causing a sticky, musky mess from his waist to his knee. He only has time to suck in a sharp breath before you’ve already made quick work of his buttons and zipper.
Oh, God.
Elvis’ entire body flushes pink and he bites his lower lip with enough force to draw blood. But you are too engrossed in your task to catch his sudden embarrassment, and you manage to unearth the mess before he has a chance to stop you. He’s gotta give you credit in that you only pause for a moment, almost immediately reaching for the discarded washcloth from earlier and handing it to him wordlessly before continuing with your job of removing his soiled slacks leg by leg. The only hint that belies your composure is the bit of red that tinges your cheeks quite abruptly, but otherwise, you show no reaction to his nakedness or the mess.
Grateful that your eyes are actively avoidinghow he’s frantically wiping his pecker and surrounding areas, he forces his slow and heavy limbs to move as fast as possible. It proves difficult in his unwell state, and by the time he finishes, you are already pulling legs of his pajamas up his knees. You are so efficient that he barely has time to balk at the fact that you are between his legs and eye level with his bareness before he’s raising his hips and you are slipping the silk up to his waist.
A deep relief washes over him, not just for his modesty, but because he feels like he can truly rest for the first time in a long time. For some reason, with you here, he finally feels safe to do so. There is something incredibly soothing in having you take care of him like this. He’s not sure why he ever tried to fight it in the first place.
“Time to sleep,” you say gently, pulling back the covers on the bed.
Elvis is so drowsy and needy that he very much wants to surround himself in your soft embrace and finds himself unable to resist doing so. He unabashedly throws his arms around your hips, drawing you close, and buries his head into your stomach.
“Oh!” you gasp quietly in surprise, tensing under his sudden and intimate touch.
He does not relent, however, only nuzzling deeper into your body and pulling you in between his legs to bring you closer. This need of his to be held and coddled is strong on a good day, and right now it takes over what little is left of his conscious thought. The security of your soft, nurturing warmth is all he craves.
You relax, seeming to realize his intentions are pure, and Elvis feels your fingers begin to cart through his hair and rub his back. He sighs into it. It’s better for him than any medicine and that scares him a little. How could it not when he barely knows you? Yet you manage to soothe something deep inside him that no one else can seem to reach. Maybe he can’t stop thinking about you because you are meant for more in his life.
God has a plan…
The thought settles pleasantly, deep within the recesses of his mind. As you lay him down, covering him with the duvet and he drifts into sleep, he snuggles into the safety of knowing he is in your capable, beautiful hands.
*
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andvys · 9 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6
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Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3
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Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 
He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.
How will he keep going? 
Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 
The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 
“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 
The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 
“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 
The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 
“Hey Tony.” 
Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 
“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 
Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 
Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 
“With what?” 
Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.
“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 
“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 
“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 
Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 
“Get lost, freak.” 
“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.
Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 
“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 
Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 
“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 
Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 
It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 
Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 
Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 
Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 
How did you even meet him? 
You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 
“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 
Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 
“Tell your old man to come by too.”
“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 
“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 
“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 
Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 
“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 
Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 
“What do you want, Harrington?” 
Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.
“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 
Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 
Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 
“You’re the stoner.”
Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 
Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 
Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 
“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 
A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 
“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 
“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 
“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 
The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 
Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 
“Put those keys away, dude.”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 
“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”
Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 
“I’ll walk.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”
It’s not about that, it’s about you. 
Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 
“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 
Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 
Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”
Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 
“Your music sucks.”
“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.
Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 
The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 
“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 
“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 
You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 
“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 
“By David Bowie?” 
“Yeah.” 
You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.
“Isn’t it sad though?” 
Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 
“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,
and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 
Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 
He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”
“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 
 “Then keep going.”
“No,” you giggled. 
“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 
“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 
You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 
“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 
“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 
Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 
Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 
“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 
Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 
“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 
Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 
He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 
He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 
“We’re here.” 
Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 
“I miss her.”
Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 
“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”
“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 
Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 
“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”
Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 
“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”
Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 
“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 
Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 
“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 
Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 
Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 
“Spit it out, dude.” 
Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 
“T-Take care of her?” 
Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.
“I will.”
Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 
He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 
He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 
He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 
How? 
-
You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 
How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 
Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 
Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 
She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 
Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 
“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 
“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.
She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 
“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 
Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 
“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”
You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”
“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.
“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 
“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”
“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 
She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.
You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 
“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 
You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 
She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.
The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.
The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 
Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 
“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 
You nod, smiling at her. 
“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 
“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 
“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 
Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 
“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 
He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 
“As always,” you snort.  
“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 
“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”
She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.
“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 
“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 
He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 
“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 
“Have fun, babe.” 
You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 
You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 
A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 
“Hey.”
You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 
“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”
You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 
He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 
“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 
“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 
He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”
You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 
You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 
You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 
You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 
You wish you would have stayed at home. 
You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 
You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.
His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 
He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 
None of it makes sense to you. 
If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 
Why is he still with her? 
Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 
The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 
Are they already going downhill? 
Is that why he told you he still loves you? 
So that he has someone to come back to? 
You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 
Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 
It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 
You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 
“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 
Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.
A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”
“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”
You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 
“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 
He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” 
He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 
“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 
He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 
You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 
“You look amazing, Eddie.”
He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 
“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.
You can’t even help but giggle. 
“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 
He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”
Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 
He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 
“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 
He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 
A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 
"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 
“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.
“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 
Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 
The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.
Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 
Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.
You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”
Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”
“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 
“Okay,” she smiles. 
When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 
But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 
His are filled with longing and sadness. 
Yours are filled with indifference. 
You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 
Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
"Yes, please." 
next part
only tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can
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brain-rot-central · 3 months
Text
Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal
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A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.
Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex
Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.
♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3
“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”
The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 
A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.
A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.
With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.
It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.
Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 
She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.
As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.
Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.
It is him.
And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.
“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.
Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 
“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”
Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.
“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 
A cold shudder shoots down her spine.
There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.
Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.
Love.
“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”
His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.
That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.
The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 
Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.
Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 
Pop, pop, pop.
Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.
Finally comes Cazador's turn.
He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.
Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.
The Ascension… is complete.
The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 
He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.
Her lover is no more.
She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.
And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.
Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”
Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”
“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.
Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.
Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”
The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 
Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.
“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.
She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.
But that was long ago.
Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.
“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”
A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”
Tav’s pupils blow wide.
Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.
She will not rise to it.
“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”
With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”
Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.
“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”
Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.
“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.
Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.
“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”
Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…
His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.
In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.
Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.
“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.
Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”
His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.
Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.
“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”
Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.
“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”
“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”
Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.
Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 
Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.
“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”
Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.
Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.
Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.
“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.
Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”
Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.
This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 
“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”
His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.
“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”
“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.
With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 
His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.
Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.
A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.
With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.
“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.
It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.
Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.
Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.
“You can move,” she tells him meekly.
He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 
Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.
Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.
Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.
Just… having sex.
“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”
He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”
“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”
Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”
“I-”
Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.
“Astarion, I-” 
Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”
Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”
Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”
Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”
A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.
Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.
Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.
Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”
The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.
Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.
She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.
Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.
Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.
Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 
Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 
Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.
She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.
Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”
He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.
Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.
Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.
Tavaria.
The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.
Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.
“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”
Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”
Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.
Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.
Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.
They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.
The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.
“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.
-------------------------------------------
Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.
Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 
Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 
Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.
No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.
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anki-of-beleriand · 11 days
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A heart Made of Glass ch.12
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Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.
Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.
Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.
Okay, this chapter had some tricks in it that are surronding Reader and Wanda, this is their story and this time around Reader would need to make the right decision if she wants to get what she wants and what she needs.
Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chpter 12 - Chapter 13
Chapter 12
In a different world
The universe started with a spark of bright golden light.
Loki Odinson had seen it several times, he had witnessed the birth and death of multiple universes and timelines that were destined to perish in a myriad of colours that would soon be forgotten. He had sat on the throne, and while he was not a King himself, he could recall the faces of all of those poor souls that disappeared into the nothingness, just as he could remember the beauty behind the first spark of life.
However, what he was experimenting right now was nothing like it.
Whatever, or whoever had decided to intervene had messed up with his own spell and everything had exploded into nothingness. A single spark of red, green and golden then, nothingness. Black spaces that disappeared without any traces left behind.
Loki started at the empty space that was Wanda and Y/N’s basement before he sighed. He sat down shaking his head, a headache approaching just as he thought on the oncoming conversation he would need to sustain with the Avengers.
“Fuck.” The word rolled out of his lips in such a natural way, he could do nothing but leaned back against the wall.
What the hell just happened?
What did he do?
What did Wanda and Y/N do to get this reaction?
The silence soon became deafening, Loki located the book Strange had died trying to recover. He frowned while leaning over to pick it up, the spell was done correctly with all the right wording as well as the right drawings on the ground. So, why did it go wrong? His eyes scanned the pages, re-reading the passages over and over until his heart dropped at one particular line, something he had overlooked the very first time he read that passage.
“…this, however, may be counterproductive if there is a magical or multiversal energy interference, the amount of energy converging at one point may created an unexpected result and…”
Loki knew the rest by heart, he knew there could be troubles but…well, how many energies were involved in the spell? He had counted on those signatures coming from Wanda and Y/N, he had even counted on his but…was there anybody else out there? Was there anybody else at the other side of the multiverse?
“Shit.” Loki stood up fixing up his clothes before flickering his hand to open a portal. He needed to face the consequences of his acts, and the first stop would be the Avengers Tower and Steve Roger’s office.
The former Captain America was going to enjoy telling Loki ‘I told you so’, just before hitting him in the face.
With one last glance to the basement, Loki turned around and left the place.
He never worried to test the energy fields around, or to tap into the timelines flickering in front of his eyes. It never occurred to him that, as soon as the explosion happened, a new singular timeline appeared right before his eyes just to blend itself with the other timelines flickering in front of Loki.
No one but the Watcher could see it, The Watcher stood in the sidelines furrowing his brows and waiting.
The world would either collapse in itself, or it would fix the anomalies by itself.
Either way, he was watching history, and the future of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.
_________________________________________
Darkness had always been your friend.
You were born in it, and it had been your weapon and your refugee in the hardest of times. That was the main reason you didn’t panic at first, everything around you was filled with the purest form of darkness with a single touch of coldness that sneaked inside your clothes. The hairs on your arms stood up, a shiver went right through your muscles making you groan as you finally experience the pain in your body.
Your mouth opened inhaling deeply filling your lungs with gusts of cold air, your chest contracting itself just before you started coughing. It was then you opened your eyes, and the darkness that you had experienced moments ago was nothing but you woke up from unconsciousness.
The first thing you noticed were different white dots in the sky winking back at you. You tried to grasp a single thought, seeking around your mind for a coherent idea but it was almost impossible to do so when the rest of your body was finally receiving different stimulus in the way of pain and coldness.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice called to your left, you tried to sit up but a single hand placed itself on your shoulder pressing you to the ground.
“Ease there, pal, you were really hurt back there.”
Even if you didn’t get a chance to sit up, your world started spinning around. The voice was so familiar, yet so different to what you were used to; with some reluctance you turned your face to the right and soon you found yourself looking at yourself.
The other woman offered a tentative smile, though the way she was squinting her eyes and the pursed of her lips told you she was just as confused as you were at the moment. Soft footsteps approached you, America Chavez was wearing a single cut on her cheek and a bruised eye, this time around you didn’t let you counterpart to stop you, you sat up to check over the teen kneeling beside you.
“America, are you alright?” Your eyes rolled back for a moment, your knees fell harshly on the ground while you held yourself with a single hand placed on your leg.
“Y/N, please…” America winced lightly glancing at you then at your counterpart. “I think you were the one that suffered the most…”
“It was my fault, actually. So, sorry?”
You blinked a couple of times, shaking your head made the headache worse and the dizziness settled on your lower abdomen. You lifted your face blinking a couple of times before checking America over, the young woman softened her features with her cheeks colouring pink while her lips tried to offer a single smile. You tried to ignore the other Y/N for as long as you could before turning around to settle your eyes on her.
Just like America, she was wearing a single cut on her forehead with her clothes dishevelled but otherwise nothing else. With some reluctance you lifted your eyes looking deep into those eyes that you knew so well.
“This is the weirdest shit I have ever had to live to date.” You finally said shaking your head, “I hope it is the last weird shit ever.”
“Agreed.” Y/N tilted her head furrowing her brows while giving you a quick glance. “Before this happened, I’m afraid I was in your body fighting with someone that got lucky…so…”
“So, that’s why I feel like this?” You cracked smile, your counterpart nodded mirroring the smile on your face. “Okay, got it, so…what the hell is going on?”
America and Y/N glanced at one another then at you, it wasn’t until then that you decided to take a good look at the surrounding area. The place in itself was nothing strange, yet you got a feeling that this was not your universe or even that of your counterpart.
The sky was completely dark filled stars but as you got to observe them above your head you realized there were not your stars. The constellations you had come to know thanks to Natasha and Carol had been changed and were replaced by different forms you did not recognize. With a single frown you lowered your eyes to find yourself in a plain of land filled with dried grass that extended beyond what the eyes could see. It was an empty land, with nothing beyond the darkness of the night without any moon it was hard to actually see something that could give you an idea of your location.
The sound of whistling called your attention, and soon you found yourself being wrapped tightly by two pair of arms. Before you could protest or ask what they were doing, you experience the sharp bite of wind, A cold, merciless breeze that soon turned into a whirlwind that left as suddenly as it had come.
“Wh-what the hell?” Your eyes opened wide, your teeth chattering while America and Y/N leaned back wincing.
“We need to move.”
You furrowed your brows shaking your head, “move where? I can barely see you two, how are we going to see the path or…where the hell are we?”
America sighed standing up, she stretched her hand to you offering a tender smile.
“You haven’t figured it out?”
You stood on weakened legs, your mouth opened ready to protest until you finally realised it. While it was true there was nothing much to see beyond the darkness and the starry night, you could see America and your counterpart just fine. It took you but a few minutes until, you lifted your hand and the shadows followed you giving you a good glance of what was around you.
“We can manipulate shadows, the night in itself is darkness and filled with the main source of our power.” Y/N stated matter-of-factly while standing before you, you nodded curtly feeling foolish for not even thinking about it.
“Are you guys going to tell me what’s going on?”
America grabbed your hand, then turning to Y/N she shrugged also grabbing her hand as well.
“We may as well update her while we continue walking.”
“We saw lights coming from what we think was a village a few kilometres away, were trying to get there until these weird whirlwinds came in and we couldn’t carry you anymore.” Y/N explained shrugging. “We’re guessing once we get to some sort of place filled with civilization we will know more…”
“Why didn’t you try to travel through the shadows?” You asked ready to do so when the warning tone from your own voice stopped you.
“I couldn’t do it without leaving America here, and I have a bad feeling as soon as I tried it…so…” Y/N shrugged looking ahead of her, “I always follow my instincts, they have never failed me.”
The comment sent a sharp pain straight to your heart.
Your instincts had never failed you either.
Nothing else was said after this, the three of you were following the direction America had pointed out but you were just lost not really knowing if this was the right path or just a wild guess. The temperature was dropping even more, soon your teeth were chattering alongside those of America and the other you. You felt a sharp pain through your head, whatever had happened before you woke up had left your body quite bruised and right now all you wanted was to find a bed, an analgesic and something to eat. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought came forward in the form of Wanda, panic rose through your chest and filled your mind but before you could ask anything about her your counterpart spoke.
“I still don’t understand how everything came to be,” she spoke with a tone of voice you were familiar with, you let your eyes wandered around the landscape holding onto every word resounding into the darkness of the night.”
“I remembered when Wanda and I saved America the first time, and then trying to safe her from these creatures chasing her down.” Y/N trailed off with her memories making her falter, with a single shake of her head she continued, “I know I was out for a while, so you can guess how surprised I was to wake up in the arms of someone that wasn’t my wife…”
“Not really.” Your reply was filled with coldness, tension building up in your body, “I have always had the luxury of waking up alone in my bed.”
America winced lifting her head to glance at you, her dark eyes begging you to listen before jumping in whatever discussion you wanted to start.
“Agatha Harkness.” The name reached the inside of your mind with the memory of the file you read on her, not only that, but also the different videos you saw surrounding her story inside of Wanda’s world.
“That was the woman you woke up to every day, Y/N.” America chimed in shyly, she lowered her gaze squeezing your hand tenderly. “She had been dragging Scarlet and Wanda around, draining them of their powers and leaving them defenceless for quite some time, and since…well, since Y/N was under her spell…”
You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to say something but finding your counterpart’s eyes on you whatever argument you had built inside your mind came crumbling down and soon you were given their side of their story.  Little by little the story started making sense, the building of a different world and the intrusive dreams you were having in the last couple of weeks, the purple and red magic surrounding you on that day as well as the mixed-up realities that ended up with you thrown into another’s body. You had always known that Wanda was special, and powerful, you never imagined just how much.
America had been a part of the plan, of course. Her powers would be very beneficial to someone like Agatha, and your powers would make sure no one would ever find her. Everything was about the most basic reason of all: Power. You pursed your lips disgusted; you were dragged into a confrontation with Wanda because there was a woman chasing after power. You had been running from Wanda for more than ten years, and all it took was this woman to ruin everything.
And now, now you were walking down the darkness of the night with a girl that could travel through different universes and your counterpart, a woman that got the life you had dreamt of a long time ago.
“Life is not fair.” Y/N stated glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but it is what we have, and we must…”
“…deal with it, take what it is being offered and try to be happy with it.” You finished shaking your head.
“Ah, so not everything is lost, I see.” Y/N allowed a single smile to break on her face, you pursed your lips snorting.
“You don’t know the story.”
“But she does, that’s why she told you those very same words, didn’t she?” Your counterpart stopped all of a sudden, you let out a heavy sigh before turning to face her.
America was standing in between the both of you, her brows knitted together with her gaze travelling around the terrain before settling on the both of you.
“Look, I know that you and Wanda had a different experience than mine, I’m glad you did because…” You trailed off holding onto your emotions, “I don’t wish on you the pain I went through…”
For the very first time ever you saw your own face breaking into a broken-hearted smile, with those eyes losing all light and those lips curving into a crooked smile. It was you looking back, and you understood right there and then that you weren’t the only one.
“You forgive her?” You asked with a hint of hope in your voice, you hated how the question left your lips and how your counterpart understood what you meant.
“How could I not if my heart beats for her?” She replied clenching her eyes closed, her hands rested upon your shoulders before you found yourself looking into your eyes. “There is a difference, though, isn’t it?”
“You guys were not together…” You started but she merely tilted her head.
“You know it wouldn’t matter if we were a couple or not, she chose someone else when we have always chosen her.” Y/N squeezed your shoulders lightly. “The difference is that I gave her a chance because I want to do so, you didn’t because…”
“I don’t believe in second chances! If I have done so she would have broken my heart all over again when she went into her imaginary world with Vision!” You exclaimed enraged, surprising Y/N and America.
The other woman furrowed her brows, she was ready to argue back with you and asked questions about the imaginary world. It was quite evident a lot of things had happened in this strange world and Y/N could only imagine the pain and rage engulfing your heart at the moment.
America could see darkness surrounding the three of you her eyes opening wide almost losing into the shadows until her eyes caught glimpses of red and purple right ahead.
“Guys?” America stuttered lifting her hand and pointing to the distance.
You two stopped your discussion turning around to see the same sparkles of red and purple. It was a formation of dusty colouring breaking into the darkness of the night sky, you turned to the left to see Y/N frowning with determination and America shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
“It’s not that far away, I mean it could be at least one kilometre?” Y/N faced you holding onto the previous tension of your conversation with her, you clenched your fist shrugging.
“Looks that way.”
“Are we…” America started but you lifted a hand to silence her.
“Before we jump in to do something I think we need more information, we don’t even know what we are going to find over there.” You looked out of the corner of your eyes; the lights were still gleaming pretty much intensely but you could tell your two companions didn’t want to stay still and do any planning.
“What do you propose?” Y/N asked lifting her chin, “you know pretty well those sparks of crimson are Wanda’s, and we know this woman, this Agatha has been using purple magic. Are you really suggesting we stand here or keep walking in circles?”
“No! All I am asking is to first think about what we are going to do! We’re not even sure where we are much less what we are going to find there.” You asked back lifting your hands in the air and stepping back, the pain you had forgotten in favour of the discussion came back making you winced.
“Look I know you guys think the world of Wanda, and that’s cool, I guess your Wanda,” this time around you pointed to your counterpart trying to remain calm, “she is all love and kindness and that’s fine. The Wanda in world had a total breakdown that enslaved a bunch of people in a reality she created for herself and that microwave she called husband, so forgive me if I’m not going to jump in without any additional information.”
Your tirade echoed through the night, your voice carried by the wind with a dropped in the temperature. The moon that had been travelling with the three of you flickered all of a sudden, and the darkness grew around the three of you. America didn’t miss the flickering lights of crimson and purple, but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing your hand in hers, the warm she shared with you made you shivered and with some reluctance you lower you stare to her. Even in such a darkness you could see her brown eyes gleaming with emotions.
“You still love her.” America mumbled squeezing your hand tenderly.
You clenched your jaw tilting your head to the side, America bit her lower lip glancing from you to Y/N.
“I don’t know why this has to be so complicated, but she needs you.” America took a deep breath stepping closer to you. “Wanda is sad, and I know she messed up and that forgiveness should not be given just because you feel that way. But she really needs you, she and Scarlet.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened between the both of you.” Y/N stepped in making sure you could not look away from your own eyes. “But the woman I love is out there, being it in this dimension or another Wanda Maximoff would always be MY Wanda and I won’t leave her out there to get hurt. If not for you, then at least do it for me.”
It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness and coldness that your heart finally gave in. With a nod, your dropped your shoulders in defeat missing the smile coming from America but never missing the satisfied glance coming from your counterpart. The three of you finally turned to the source of the magic, and without a simple plan you three started making your way to the source.
You were not prepared for what was waiting for you over there.
Agatha Harkness smirked at the woman kneeling before her.
In less than a year she had made it possible to crumble away the legend of the Scarlet Witch while placing herself as the most powerful witch in the multiverse. Her smile never faltered, not even when the world spined around changing into a familiar setting; a place and time Agatha had suffered before but that now she could alter with a single flicker of her hand.
The place was filled with passersby ignoring the presence of the two women; nobody seemed to care that one of them was on her knees with a single neck shackle made of light red and blue tied to a crimson necklace Agatha wore on her chest.
“What do you think about this arrangement, dear?” The dark-haired woman asked, her eyes dropping to the kneeling Wanda who was shooting her a stare filled with anger. “Personally, I think this could be more lively, but don't worry soon enough we will have a show to die for.”
Her laughter was accompanied by a flash of violet, and soon the scene changed and they were transferred to a great marketplace located at the centre of the village. Everyone had reunited around four pillared pyres that were guarded by at least ten knights all dressed in black.
Wanda lifted her face, her ears twitched hearing the sound of angry screams cursing someone she couldn't make out yet. Agatha stirred in excitement; her smile grew until it was a crooked grin with just a hint of madness behind it.
“Here they come…”
The crowd spread around just as four figures came in walking on naked feet wearing red robes and bruised faces. The hatred and fear coming from the crowd was quite evident as the torches and the pitchforks drew wild patterns above the townspeople’s heads. The light of the torches ignited the night, Wanda tensed under the grip of the woman standing beside her, the hairs on her arms raising up while her eyes narrowed to follow the events unfolding in front of her.
The four women were pushed forward, each one of them had a single knight standing behind them with heavy hands they were dragged to the four pillars tied to them facing the crowd. It didn’t take her too long to guess what was about to happen, and what exactly were those pillars; the pyres had been set up to ensure everyone could see the women died. The crowd cheered cruelly, laughing and cursing while the four women glared at the people with more bravery than they actually felt. 
“This was my coven.” Agatha spat out, her hands sparkling with a mixture of red and purple, “they saw my power, they read my intentions and instead of supporting me they dared to try and stop me…”
“I wonder why.” Wanda couldn’t hold the sarcasm behind her voice, Agatha pulled harshly on the ropes holding her neck making Wanda fall on her back.
“You really are more daring than your counterparts, dear. I would be careful, if I were to be honest I don’t need you alive.” 
Agatha caressed the necklace smirking at Wanda, the woman couldn’t hide her anger and the magic that was pulsating inside her was not enough to protect her from Agatha’s anger. Soon Wanda let out a scream of pain, her body twitching painfully until he couldn’t keep her eyes open and all she could think about was the searing pain on her limbs.
“It has been so long since I was just a lowly witch like them, afraid of fire and the angry crowd. I grew to be magnificent, to have power beyond anyone’s imagination…” Agatha continued with his rambling observing with gleaming eyes as the Major of the town stood forward proclaiming the sins of the four women.
“I just had to find you, Wanda, you and that so-called Scarlet Witch.” Wanda took a deep breath, half hearing the woman while watching with horror as the night above her head flickered from one setting to another.
“It was not easy, you know?”
Agatha flickered her hand to the right and soon Wanda was on her knees watching as the world around her changed. It was like watching a movie in a dome. The world changed to day and night flickering images of Agatha dragging her burnt body through the ground whispering spells that only she could hear. The image soon changed showing the passing of time, Agatha looking around the world and stealing the magic of others while seeking something out of desperation.
She finally found it after more than a century.
Wanda opened her eyes at the familiar setting, Kamar Taj stood under stormy winds and heavy snow. Agatha sneaked around, distracting the inhabitants of the temple by provoking landslides that would certainly have killed innocent people if it hadn’t been by the protectors of the temple. She had enough time to steal a single book.
“Y-you…you stole the..th-e…the Drakhold.” Wanda leaned forward resting her hands on the ground, she was shocked to find the snow under her hands was real and that everything she was seeing was not an illusion but a real event.
Her mind was trying to comprehend what was really happening. Her knowledge of the Darkhold had not been as broad as it had been for Strange and even Loki. But she did know one thing or two about the origins of her powers, Chaos Magic had been called and it gave her the power to bend reality and life in ways not many could access to. The darkness inside her had been contained by her family and her loved ones, but the same could not be said by others, apparently.
“I did.” Agatha finally answered tilting her head, soon the scene changed and they were taken to a place Wanda was familiar with.
Westview.
“Yet, I was still not strong enough, or the only one with powers beyond our imaginations.” Agatha made a face, stepping forward strolling down the streets with Wanda following her. “When the Avengers showed up it was quite evident that people with powers could no longer be hidden. It was my time to shine until you, my dear Wanda, showed up.”
Wanda saw herself in a building in Sokovia, it was a place she was familiar with yet the story that was unfolding in front of her had nothing to do with what she had lived once. Her other self struggled to control her powers, to live her life, to be who she was supposed to be but failed every single time. Agatha had never been too far from those events, and whenever Wanda failed, Agatha would clutch the young woman closer to her. The red and purple magic intertwined without anyone noticing.
“What did you do?” Wanda asked, finding herself in the middle of the square in Westview. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining right above their heads and not a single cloud in sight. 
Agatha smirked, her eyes changing colours to one of deep crimson, “I finally became who I am supposed to be, and soon my dear I will have all the power to bend the universes at my will. And now, I will finish what I started all those months ago with your pathetic counterpart and you will help me out with this.”
The world suddenly exploded around them, Wanda clenched her jaw closed, lifting her eyes to the sky to see the runes above her head.
“You…” She gritted her teeth, her eyes closing right away trying to gather her thoughts and power to stop the woman standing beside her.
Agatha chuckled darkly, her gripped on Wanda tightened allowing the influx of memories to invade the mind of the redhead. It was a life she was no familiar with, a suffering she had not experiment in the same way but that generate in her an understanding of the mess this world was in. She could see the moment Agatha entered the story, the failures and the almost victories until finally she got what she wanted.
A weakened Wanda Maximoff without anyone in the world to stand by her side.
Power.
And a way to get away with her plan.
“You…you won’t win.” Wanda finally got out; her eyes gleaming dangerously at the other woman who made a face rolling her eyes.
“I already did, dear. You just haven’t realized it yet.” Agatha let go of Wanda stepping away.
The brunette straightened up lifting her arms in front of her, her hands creating a purple mist while the necklace she wore zealously around her neck gleamed with intensity. Those eyes that moment’s ago had been brown, were now a deep black and the world around Wanda trembled under the electric shift of power the witch was gathering around her.
“Now, I have all the pieces in place, in my world…under my rules.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, “I will bend everyone to my will…and you, Wanda, will be nothing but a bad memory.”
The sky above their heads changed into darkness, the temperature dropped and Wanda felt the heavy weight of the atmosphere overwhelming her. She could sense her counterpart weakening inside the prison Agatha had chosen for her, her thoughts were still a mixture of memories she couldn’t quite place while the heavy emotions running through her soul threaten to overwhelm. Wanda could read the intentions behind the woman standing before her, she could read the hatred and violence behind those dark eyes. Lifting her chin to the sky, and her eyes showing off her own magic she decided if this was going to be her end, she would face it with defiance.
The ball of energy flickered in Agatha’s hand, the world stood still and the with smirked ready to give the final blow.
Agatha was so concentrated in her final goal, she never noticed she was no longer alone and what she though was illusions of her own invention were actually three people she didn’t think would be a problem until one of them stood right in front of her shielding Wanda from an imminent dead.
You had crossed the protective barrier around the strange town with a single thought in mind. Your intention was to get this over with and go back to your life on Norway, your heart beating fast while your mind protest for the easiness in which you were trying to go back to a life in which you were ignoring the woman that had never left your heart. It looked easy, just do your thing and then fixed whatever mess you were in and then…go back.
But the universe and the Powers That Be decided that it wouldn’t be just as easy as a flickered of your hand.
As soon as the three of you crossed the barrier you were face to face with flashes of memories that presented you with a film of the lives of Wanda and Agatha. The stories of the coven and the search for power, as well as the fall of Sokovia and Wanda’s struggles with her powers and her life.
“This is so wrong.” Y/N stated clenching her fist while stepping forward until she was finally standing beside you, the both of you stood on an empty street hearing the sounds of muffled conversation.
“Any plan?” You finally stated ignoring the piercing pain in your heart, your counterpart shrugged nodding to the darkened street that was flashing a mixture of red and purple.
“I think the best approach is a straightforward one.”
“Humph, so go there and just start fighting?” You replied with your lips breaking into a single smirk.
“Yep, pretty much.”
“That doesn’t sound like a solid plan.” America mumbled unsure, she furrowed her brows turning to you and then to your counterpart.
You turned to America placing a hand on her shoulder, “but it is what we have. You are going to stay here and wait.”
“But…I can fight! I can help!” America stepped back frowning, “I won’t be left behind…”
“I know you can fight, kiddo.” You replied tilting your head, “and that’s why you are staying behind.”
America opened her mouth to protest but Y/N came forth shaking her head.
“You are our backup, America. If anything were to happen to us and Wanda…” Y/N stated dropping her gaze for a moment, she turned to you until finally she locked eyes with America. “You need to do anything you can to ensure Agatha won’t scape, you understand?”
America pursed her lips, a part of her understood the mission but another part wanted to go straight ahead and face the woman that had been chasing her through the multiverse. America clenched her fists before nodding curtly and stepping back. You offered a single smile, your hand squeezing comfortingly the shoulder of the teen.
“There would be time, America, for now just watch our backs.”
“I will.”
“Good then, let’s go.”
You nodded curtly allowing your powers to spread in front of you, there was resistance when trying to reach the shadows and for the very first time you understood what your counterpart meant about your instinct. Everything in your body was screaming danger as soon as you came into contact with the shadows, your body shivered under the piercing weight of a million needles. You clenched your jaw closed stepping into the shadows with a single thought in mind.
Wanda.
Without any hesitation and moving through the invisible obstacles in that universe you appeared right before Wanda and Agatha just in time. Your eyes went black with your right arm lifting in front of you and creating a protective barrier just as Agatha’s hand came into contact with your shadows.
There was a flickering of power, the older woman snarled a curse lifting her left arm in the same fashion and launching a second attack. Your eyes opened slightly only for your shadows to slithered away grabbing the woman’s midsection to pull her away.
The world crumbled for an instant; Agatha was completely shocked to see not only you but your counterpart standing right in front of her. The woman straightened up, sweat rolling down her forehead while her right hand closed around her necklace and her other hand summoned the Darkhold.
“You really are a pain in my behind, but at least I won’t have to go around looking for you.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, her annoyance giving way to a confident smile. “Now, how about the two of you are good girls and give up, I would hate to spend my time submitting you to get what I want.”
You spread your feet positioning yourself in a fighting pose, your eyes narrowing slightly while the woman in front of you got her magic ready. But before Agatha could do anything at all, another set of shadows grabbed her arms putting them back making her woman lose her grip on the necklace and the Darkhold, your body tensed when Wanda stood up behind you, her voice quivering slightly as she pronounced your name with reverence and love.
“Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about me, Agatha dear.” Your counterpart said winking at Wanda while flickering her hands away, Agatha grunted freeing herself with a blast of energy and stepping a few feet away.
“Hn, I didn’t expect this.” She stated summoning the Darkhold, the world around the four of you changed, shaping itself in a familiar setting you had come to hate in your mind.
Westview.
Agatha never wavered in her confidence, if anything it seemed to grow the same way her magic was doing at the moment. You took a fighting stance, your shadows flickering around waiting for your command. You glanced out of the corner of your eye, Wanda had been trying to stand up but her knees and feet seemed uncooperative. Before you could offer any help, your counterpart came in wrapping her arms around Wanda while placing her forehead against Wanda’s one.
“Hey, love.”
“Hi.” Wanda replied with easiness, Y/N sighed in relief before placing a single kiss on her wife’s cheek.
“I miss you.” Y/N said softly, your heart shrank with emotion when your mind caught up with what was really happening.
You furrowed your brows, sweeping around the place until your darkened eyes fell on Agatha who was smiling playfully at you, her right hand playing absentmindedly with the necklace.
“Where is…Wanda?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda and Y/N both glanced at one another before they set their eyes on you.
A sinking feeling settled on your lower stomach, you were afraid of the answer when you realized this Wanda was trying to look everywhere but you. Tilting your head, you finally got a good look at your surroundings where the suburban houses filled out the imaginary world; the Wanda you had come to know from another universe held onto your counterpart tightly though right now her green eyes had been focusing straight ahead of you.
“Where is she? Wanda?” You asked again, this time around there was a demanding undertone that the other woman couldn’t ignore.
“Agatha has them under her control, she is using a powerful and dangerous book, Y/N.” Wanda could tell her answer was not of your liking, she stepped forward ready to join you and her wife in the fight glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes.
“You don’t know where she has Wanda?” You asked again never taking your eyes off of the older woman standing before you.
“I have my suspicions but I’m not sure how to interfere with that.” Wanda winced trying to ease out the pain on her neck, you frowned pursing your lips while taking a closer look at Agatha before your eyes found the same house you had come to know as Wanda’s place.
“Well, then let’s get this over with and get Wanda back.” Your arms stretched to the sides, the silent command spurred into action the shadows around you flying straight ahead to try and get Agatha.
Before your counterpart and the other Wanda could help you out, the creatures summoned by Agatha launched their first attack. A great explosion was heard while you evaded the flashing balls of power sent over by the witch.
The fight soon broke over, you didn’t notice it but the dome surrounding this part of the universe tremble sending waves of energy all through the world until they came into contact with the timeline and America. The young woman lifted her head, her eyes gleaming brightly as she tapped into her powers; bouncing on the balls of her feet she waited. America could hear the sound of explosions and the muffled sound of conversations and screams, she glanced at her hands thinking about the lessons she had been learning in the last couple of months. She closed her fists, opening them again before lifting her face. This people had been putting their lives on the line for her, they had been trying to protect her without expecting anything in exchanged. It was about time she helped them.
With a glance to the sky, America took a deep breath closing her eyes for a brief moment. As soon as she opened them, her lips curled into a single smile.
Time for payback.
The street had been completely destroyed during the fight.
There were no more homes standing up, or nice cosy gardens decorating the suburban setting. The world soon became a mixture of nothingness with the flickering holograms of reality that you could not touch. Agatha had learnt a thing or two since fighting with Wanda, you could see her ability to hold onto her powers while also making use of those she had stolen from your Wanda.
You shook your head hating the thoughts running around in your head, the overwhelming emotions that seemed to try and govern your decisions. You tried to focus your energy on what was right in front of you, the problem you were facing went beyond your own emotions. There would be a time for you to deal with them.
Agatha lifted her left hand above her head before letting it fall fast to her side, the sharp pain of your skin being pierce made you grunted. You could feel the wounds on your arms, your eyes igniting in a deep black that soon went right ahead to engulf the witch in front of you.
At some point, Agatha had become faster than your attacks, she stepped aside flickering her hands and soon two more creatures appeared out of nowhere.
“Is that all you got?” You asked almost losing your concentration when you heard the voice of your counterpart in the back.
“Get away from my wife!”
Agatha smirked grabbing her necklace, tilting her head she settled her eyes on you.
“Oh, dear, you would be surprised with the number of tricks I can bring on you.” Agatha stepped forward, her feet never touching the ground. “I could make your dreams come true; I can be what Wanda never was for you.”
You pressed your lips together taking into a fighting stance.
“You know nothing about my dreams, and I am certainly not looking for a replacement.”
Agatha snorted her hand gripping tightly on the necklace, soon a red mist grew from the space between her neck and chest and the world around her turned crimson. Agatha stretched out her arms and the whole world vibrate around you changing in the blink of an eye.
“Are you sure? I can tell by the pathetic way you are always looking at her, but the way you talk about her that there is nothing else you want more than her…” Agatha’s voice rose above the new scene, your eyes flickered around while your stomach dropped when you realized where she had taken you to.
For a brief moment you could make out the screams and grunts of the fight going on right outside this small world. You took a deep breath trying to get a hold of your powers ignoring the runes glowed above your head a clear sign that this was still being controlled by Agatha. You creased your brows knowing that your options were limited if the other woman decided to use her magic at its full potential. She was playing with you, leading you on and one until it was quite clear she was mocking you by placing you right in front of a memory that had broken your heart at some point.
It was playing in slow motion, the video and the room with everyone just as shocked as you were to see Wanda in the arm’s of another. The passing of time, every single moment that you had suffered the betrayal while facing your sadness alone in a world of pure darkness. Your fit closed, the shadows on your feet stirred violently sensing your anger when you heard Agatha laughing. Mocking you.
“How did it make you feel knowing she was happier with a man?” Agatha purred making sure to be as far away from you as she could. “How did it feel knowing you were never going to be chosen in this world? In this universe? I bet it pierce your soul knowing you were the one destined to be alone.”
“Shut up.”
“I can make it go away, I can help you out…say the words, and I will make sure you get what you want.”
Your knees gave under your weight, furrowing your brows you tried to close yourself to the mocking film playing around you trying to focus on the fight. Agatha chuckled tilting her head, this time around the runes above her head pulsated and the two creatures grew before your eyes attacking viciously at your counterpart and Wanda making sure that your conversation and fight with Agatha wouldn’t be interrupted. Agatha centred her eyes on you, her hand grabbing the necklace while the same video seemed to be on replay.
“She won’t be a problem for you anymore, and after I’m done with you…you won’t have to worry about the pain of your broken heart, dear.” The laughter sent shivers down your back, but it was everything you were waiting for.
Your lips curled into a smile, your right hand twirled clockwise and the shadows broke into waves catching up with the witch. Just as you had located her, ready to give her a lesson, the woman was ready to use the magic Wanda and Scarlet were giving to her to make sure the next stage of her plan could be completed.
It never happened, though.
Your attack never stopped reaching out to your objective, while Agatha tried to return the hit she was surprised by a sudden punch to her face. The punch glow white, and her body bounced back and forth until she lost the hold on the necklace, America Chavez didn’t stop there and your shadows went straight to hold onto the witch to bring her down.
Everything happened so fast, your eyes went from America to Agatha and finally to the object on the ground. The necklace bounced on the ground, and without thinking too much you went right ahead to grab it. The object was warm to the touch, you could tell by the vibrations that magic had been contained between the object and this magic could only belong to one person. You closed your hand around it, you could sense Scarlet deep inside your mind. It didn’t take you too long to recognize the woman that had been haunting your dreams as of late, right with her you could also sense Wanda trying to hide, trying to survive.
“NO!”
The scream coming from Agatha was everything you needed to drop the necklace and stomp on the piece of jewellery creating an explosion that blew you and everyone around you away.
“Humph…” Your mouth opened letting out a shaky breath, your body hurt all over while your eyes got use to the sparkling lights that appeared before them when your head hit the ground.
“Y/N!!” You tried to sit up, a pair of arms held onto you for a brief moment until you were capable of making out the figure sitting beside you.
America had her brows creased; her eyes shone with worry while she tried to hold you up. The fighting was still ringing inside your ears, your counterpart was finishing the last of the dimensional creatures while you could spot her Wanda holding back against Agatha. For a brief moment, panic rose inside you the sudden need to throw up became almost to much just as you leaned forward trying to stand up your eyes looking frantically for the women that had been haunting your dreams and reality as of late.
“They are unconscious…” America started but she could not finish her sentence as you stood up without any warning.
“Wanda…” Her name escaped your lips without meaning to, at that moment with your body exhausted and your mind already carrying the weight of so many memories and thoughts all you could do was staggered forward until you reached both women.
You stood on shaky legs glancing from Wanda to Scarlet, both of them unconscious wearing the same bags under their eyes and the bruises all over their faces and arms. You hesitated not really knowing where you should focus your attention until, as an afterthought you went to Wanda. Turning her to the side you ensure she was comfortable, her lip had a deep cut and her forehead had traces of a scratch that left her with blood and dirt. She looked thinner than you remember, with her face wearing still the same defeated expression she wore to your home all those months ago.
“Wanda.” You said her name again, this time around firmer and demanding, your hand trying to help her out until you heard her exclamation of pain. “Wanda, are you alright?”
The young woman stirred in your arms, her eyes flickering slightly until she opened her lips and let out an exclamation of pain. You put her back on the ground, turning around you could see Scarlet was stirring awake as well while the fight seemed to have no end.
“Y/N…” You turned to see Wanda’s eyes fluttering open, her green orbs looking back at you with sadness and tenderness that had your heart beating a tad bit faster.
“Hey, are you alright?” You leaned in but Wanda looked away helping herself up, you tired to assist her but your body froze for a moment unsure on how to proceed with the woman sitting before you.
“I…I am a little sore.” She replied, her eyes never leaving the form of Scarlet, Wanda furrowed her brows glancing at her hands then back at the other woman. “She…she is…Scarlet Witch.”
Her words trembled as she pronounced them, her face lowered thinking to herself knowing full well your attention was on her. She remembered the moment she had separated herself from the legend, the words of Agatha had haunted her at that moment when she realized there was something inside her giving her powers a deeper meaning. She had hated that idea, and the world that had been created out of it.
When Wanda finally dared to look up she found herself looking into your eyes. Her heart stirred with emotion, the words that wanted to pour out of her mouth entangled around her throat for she knew it was not the time for a heart-to-heart conversation. She wished everything had turned out different, but after her confrontation with Agatha and everything she had discovered whiled trapped in that reality she knew what she needed to do.
“Can you…help me up?” She asked shyly, you nodded curtly stretching your hands for her to take them.
She was cold under your touch, and a little sweaty.
Her cheeks coloured pink, and her eyes glanced everywhere but at you. You felt a piercing pain going through your chest, but you ignored it while helping the other woman up. For a brief moment, you thought she could walk on her on until Wanda’s legs trembled and almost gave up on her. You caught her just on time, her body pressing against yours making your traitorous heart stopped for a brief moment.
“How convenient, Wanda.” Scarlet was on her knees; she had sweat falling down her face breathing hard and glaring at the two of you though her eyes were completely focused on Wanda. “You…you don’t do nothing, yet you get to be with her.”
Wanda tensed in your arms, she took a deep breath while pushing you away taking one step at a time until she was standing before Scarlet. You lifted your eyes to see America just as focused on the two women as you were, the sound of the fighting was till rumbling in your ears but it was almost impossible to pay attention to something else that wasn’t the scene playing out in front of you.
Wanda held herself up, conscious of the hatred inside the eyes of Scarlet.
Inside her own eyes.
“We don’t get to be with her.” Wanda mumbled dropping her shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to make amends but I just…”
“You always failed, and you make it worse.” Scarlet spat out lifting her chin in defiance, her position on the ground was not an inconvenience. If anything, it gave her the power that Wanda couldn’t show at the moment.
“I tried to reach out to her, to make her world and mine…to…”
“I know.” Wanda offered a weakened smile, looking out of the corner of her eyes she could see you had your attention on the both of them. “I tried to do the same. I just…I can’t do it alone, and I’m tired of failing every time. I don’t…”
Wanda swallowed down her tears, she leaned in lifting her left hand until she was cupping Scarlet’s cheek. Red mist appeared in Wanda’s hand, and soon her eyes as much as those of Scarlet were shining brightly.
“It hurts so much.” Scarlet said letting the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just…
“I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be without her.” Wanda finally said her own tears falling down her face.
You clenched your jaw, looking away for a moment while your chest felt a myriad of butterflies fluttering inside.
“But I can’t keep fighting alone, or divided.” Wanda stated, she wiped away Scarlet’s tears before adding. “I think we need to be one, you saw just how powerful we are together and…”
“You need to fix this, or we would never…”
“I know, but this may not end the way you want it.”
Scarlet drifted her attention to you, her eyes found those of yours and in there you could read everything you had been so afraid to interpret the first time. There was pain and sadness, emotions that broke into her heart in ways you could only imagine, and then there was love. You looked away stepping back under the intensity of such a stare, you missed the broken smile on Scarlet’s face and the defeat she wore while facing Wanda again.
“I know, I think we will cope when the time for that comes.” Wanda nodded in understanding; her hands gleamed brighter than ever while Scarlet placed her hand on top of hers.
“I promised you I won’t give up.”
“Good, then let’s do this.”
The crimson mist grew around them glowing with a bright, red light making you trembled under the intensity of the magic. You could see America kneeling down, her eyes going wide open as they stare the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Wanda and Scarlet were no longer two different entities.
Standing before you was a single woman, her head was adorned with a red crown that made match with the bodice and the black leggings. Wanda stood there with magic coming from her hands, her eyes a deep shade of red that gathered the power you had always known she had in her. The woman stood still for a moment, she glanced at her body and her hands before her face lifted to stare at you.
You tried to hide your expression, your lips parting to speak but not words came out. Wanda hesitated before nodding her feet moving slowly until she turned around making her way to the fight.
“Is she gonna be okay?” America stood right beside you, squirting at the woman now using her magic to help her counterpart in the fight against Agatha.
“I think so…” You trailed off finally realizing that even though the both of them had finally become one, Wanda was still wearing the bruises and the exhaustion on her face.
“Are you okay?” America asked quite concern, you turned to her offering a half smile.
“I will be.” You sighed scratching the back of your neck. “Stay here and be careful.”
“What are you gonna do?” The teen asked slightly scare, you offered her a half smile turning towards the fight that was a tied between the Wandas and Agatha.
“What we came to do, just stay out of trouble and be ready to help us go back home, okay kiddo?”
America doubt there was anything she could do, but she didn’t contradict you. With a single nodded of her head she watched as you ran towards the fight, your shadows already creating a protective barrier around you and Wanda. Something, America though, you probably were not aware of.
_____________________________________________________________
Loki rolled his eyes once more, he was tired of hearing the fight going on in the meeting room while he stood by the window waiting for the right moment to intervene.
The world outside was highly active, Monday had always been one of the busiest days in the calendar and that day was not the exception. The young god leaned forward, his fingertips touching the window while his eyes observed the golden and green lights of the timelines. His eyes soon fell upon the one he did not recognise, a red line that he could not tamper with but that he was certain contained the answers to the questions everyone in the room were posing.
Loki turned around his eyes finding those of Billy who had not leave his side ever since Pietro brought him into the Avenger’s Tower. The young boy had his eyes narrowed, his hands playing with invisible threats only he could see.
For a brief moment, Loki stood there observing the child with growing curiosity. Billy was tapping the air with his fingertips, concentrated in something only visible to him. Loki frowned with his mind already forming an idea of what exactly was happening.
“Billy, what are you doing?” The question was low enough for the child to hear it but not for the rest of the room to notice it.
Billy lifted his face this time around his eyes went wide opened showing off the innocence of his age, but also the brightness he had inherited from both his mothers.
“Mommy always says to follow my instincts.” There was conviction in his tone, his hands tapping still as if waiting for something.
“And, what are they telling you?” Loki knelt to be on the same height of the child, Billy tilted his head creasing his brows before answering.
“Uncle Loki, momma and mommy need my help…look!”
Loki looked in the direction Billy was pointing to, he gasped with his eyes wide open and a smile forming on his lips.
“Billy you are a genius.” Billy offered a timid smile glancing at Loki shyly.
“Really?”
“Yes, and I think thanks to you we are going to be able to help Wanda and Y/N.” Loki could see the excitement in the little boy, he couldn’t help but smile back.
Without giving to much attention to the room, Loki sat right beside Billy closing his eyes before letting his magic to spread around. Billy was slightly confused at first, he had continued working on invisible threads trying to get into contact with them. Now there was something different, with his uncle sitting beside him Billy could sense the magic. He pressed his lips together before sitting down and, imitating Loki, he closed his eyes and just went with his instincts.
_____________________________________________________________
Whatever power she had tried to drain from Wanda and even Scarlet was no longer active to give her the stamina or even the strength to keep up with the fight. She was not even up to sustain the world she had created by tampering on the Chaos magic she could barely tolerate.
Wanda Maximoff gathered her power while circling the woman in front of her, she could feel the hurt she had created for her counterpart had reached out beyond the boundaries of the multiverse and it was something she would not tolerate. Beside her she could sense Y/N, a close shadow that was ready to jump in when necessary to offer protection and support; Wanda couldn’t help but smile.
“You won’t win.” Agatha tried to put up with a fight, she tried to hold onto the last threads of power inside her to get into the fight but she could no longer hold onto her powers for far too long.
You came from behind her your hands wrapping around her wrists while your shadows covered her feet spreading through her legs and body. Agatha was struggling, her eyes going wide open just as she started chanting in a language you did not recognize. Wanda opened her eyes wide, she stepped closer spreading her arms and chanting just the same, the runes trembling right above your head just before a myriad of images surrounded you breaking the darkness before going completely white.
“NO!” Agatha let out a guttural exclamation, her elbow hitting you square in the face but whatever strength she had in her to fight was haltered by your counterpart finishing what you started.
Wanda knew at that moment why she had been feared by Agatha, the power that was held inside her sent electric waves through her body. The power concentrated on her hand, and soon a single jewel showed on her palm while her counterpart continued with the ritual. The runes appeared right above her head, and without any indications, she started chanting as well.
You stepped back falling on your ass, blood rolling down your nose just as you saw the black figured being swallowed by the jewel. There was a moment of flickering lights and then, it stopped. Both Wanda’s stood right in front of the other, the jewel resting comfortably on the hand of Y/N’s wife.
The jewel took into a purplish colour, falling to the ground with a single thump.
The world went silent.
The darkness around you grew, with the stars twinkling right above your head.
Everything was still, with only your hard breathing breaking the tension around your ears. Your body was aching, your mind filled with memories of the past and the present all of them pilling up to overwhelmed you line of thoughts. You closed your eyes trying to forget and wait for everything to be back the way it was in the last year.
But you knew it was just an illusion.
Your world had been shaken up the moment Wanda and America showed up at your doorstep. The fight with Agatha brought back the memories you had tried to forget, it brought with it the truths you were not ready to face. You had always thought that you could outrun your motions, but the world has always taught you this was not possible. Not for someone like you, and certainly not for someone like Wanda.
When you opened your eyes you saw Wanda, your Wanda staring at you, but before anything could be done or said her eyes rolled back passing out of exhaustion. You caught up to her on time, her body falling on yours your face a mask of pure concern just as you ensure she rested comfortably on the ground.
You knew everyone was looking at you, but you decided to ignore them while checking Wanda over to make sure nothing else happened to her.
“Are you alright?” The other Wanda came to you, her voice sent shivers down your back, you didn’t dare to lift your eyes for fear of revealing far too much.
Instead, you nodded taking deep breaths while feeling the ground under your knees, without thinking too much about it, your hand brushed Wanda’s hair tenderly. The attention you were giving to her was something you never thought you would do again. The woman standing beside you shifted her weight and soon she was sitting right beside you; this time around you did turn around only to see her staring at you with big, curious eyes.
“She is still unconscious, but I believe she is no longer two halves of the same person.” Wanda lifted her face to the sky, her lips parting slightly. “Her magic is still erratic, but I believe she would be okay.”
“What about Agatha?” Your question entangled in your throat, scrunching up your nose you decided to conceal your emotions not ready to face the conversation or to address the white elephant hanging around you two.
“She will be trapped in this jewel until you and her decided what should be done with her.” Wanda handed over the jewel, you pursed your lips in disgust before grabbing the artifact.
“The book she had with her, it is the Darkhold, isn’t it?”
“It is.” You nodded this time around locking your eyes with hers.
“Are you taking it with you?”
Wanda broke into an easy smile shaking her head, “it’s not mine but yours. It would be better off in your world, where it belongs.”
“It should be destroyed.” You leaned back resting your hands on the ground.
“It should, but that would be your prerogative not ours.”
Your eyes drifted around the place before they settled on America and Y/N, both of them were engaged in a heavy discussion and you could teel this was the moment America had been waiting for a very long time. The feelings of guiltiness and sadness had been quite evident in her when you two met, right now this was the chance the young woman was waiting for to make amends. To reach for forgiveness.
“So, any idea how we are going to leave this place?”
Wanda nodded leaning back until she pointed to America and your counterpart.
“She is ready to use her powers, I believe she is the only one that can help us right now.”
Not sooner had Wanda said this the world started to tremble, the light of the stars flickered until they disappeared one by one. You straightened up with Wanda standing up as soon as she noticed this.
“I guess…we should try it right now.” You stood up turning to glance at the darkened world, everything was coming in and out of reality with the ground shaking for small periods of time.
“It was a matter of time.” Wanda placed a hand on your forearm, you couldn’t help the tension on your muscles the other woman softened her features stepping closer. “You will be back, and she will need help to recover from this.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready for that?” The question caught you off guard, you knew what was expected of you and what you could do with the woman that had broken your heart at some point.
You could hide behind that excuse until the end of time, but it would run out of any validity at some point. Sooner or later, you knew you would have to face Wanda and decisions must be made. The Wanda standing before you softened her features, her words would made your mind pound with the imminent decisions you would need to make.
“How deep is your anger, and how deep goes your love for you to not face what your heart already knows?” Wanda leaned in and you found yourself in a embrace you didn’t know you miss. Her voice was just a whisper, but it was everything you needed at the moment. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you my love to follow your instincts. They had never failed you.”
America glanced around the group with a nervous smile.
She glanced at her hands then back at you and Y/N, the words of encouragement were ringing inside her head while she tried to gather the courage to move onto the next step.
“Just think about it, kiddo.” Y/N stated grabbing the hand of her wife, America almost winced at those words because her mind had been a myriad of thoughts since they delegate the task of going back home on her.
You fixed the unconscious woman in your arms, putting her closer to you while looking over at America. The young woman closed her eyes, ready to open the portal when Wanda stopped her.
“Wait, America.” The redhead stepped closer placing her hand on America’s shoulder. “Remember, it is more than opening a portal, is about opening the right one.”
“I know, I know…it’s just…easier said than done.” America pursed her lips, she took a deep breath closing her eyes.
“Then, let yourself be guided by your emotions and what you remember of the place you want to go to.” Wanda squeezed the shoulder of the teen tenderly, and for that brief moment America felt it.
It was vague but it was there.
The same kind of energy she had felt on Wanda and Y/N, it was familiar yet different. She had felt it when she first fell upon that universe, the twins had carried with them a strange kind of energy that seemed to engulf the best of Wanda and Y/N.
America closed her eyes and, without thinking to much, she followed the familiarity of that energy. Her mind bringing over the memories of her time in that land, finally easing out her fears and trusting in the women she had surrounding her.
The young woman clenched her fist, and with a single punch she opened the star-shaped portal.
All of them were ready to go home.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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coffeebeanwriting · 1 year
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15 Writing Tips from Authors
1) “You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are.” - Joss Whedon
2) “First, find out what your hero wants, then just follow them.” - Ray Bradbury 
Coffee bean’s analysis: Letting your characters lead the story can result in an authentic, character-driven story, full of real conflicts and natural emotion.
3) “Turn up for work. Discipline allows creative freedom. No discipline equals no freedom.” - Jeanette Winterson
4) “Show up, show up, show up, and after a while the muse shows up, too.” - Isabel Allende 
Coffee bean’s analysis: In order to write or eventually share your story with the world, you have to sit down and do the work, even if your brain is empty. Once you show up, the creativity has a chance to spark.
5) “All bad writers are in love with the epic.” - Ernest Hemingway
6) "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." - Leonardo Da Vinci
Coffee bean’s analysis: Being able to turn a complex idea into simple words is harder than one might think— but can elevate your writing. Not everything needs to be epic or overly flowery.
7) “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life.” - Anne Lamott
8) “I went for years not finishing anything. Because, of course, when you finish something you can be judged.” - Erica Jong
9) “Don’t write at first for anyone but yourself.” - T.S Eliot
Coffee bean’s analysis: Perfectionism will kill any chance you have at having fun and finishing your novel. Let go of that pressure of being perfect and do not worry about being judged. Write for you.
10) “Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.” -Henry Miller
Coffee bean’s analysis: Don’t overwhelm your schedule with trying to write a ton of projects at once. Focus your energy into one (or two) at a time.
11) "A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it." - Edgar Allen Poe
12) “Every sentence must do one of two things— reveal character or advance the action." - Kurt Vonnegut
Coffee bean’s analysis: Even if you’re writing a novel, this advice is brilliant. Whether it’s a sentence, paragraph or whole chapter... make sure they are meant to be in your story. Keep your scenes tidy and thematic, building towards something.
13) “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” - Anton Chekhov
Coffee bean’s analysis: When writing a novel, give your reader details so that they can picture the scene in their head. Don’t do too much telling (though it has it’s places).
14) “It is perfectly okay to write garbage— as long as you edit brilliantly.” - C.J Cherry
15) “If it sounds like writing … rewrite it.” - Elmore Leonard
Coffee bean’s analysis: Allow yourself to write messily and worry about editing later. Once in the editing phase, if your writing sounds stiff, rewrite it so that it sounds natural.
Instagram: coffeebeanwriting  
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st-eve-barnes · 6 months
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Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)
Chapter 1
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Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?
Word count: +2300
Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.
Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.
Chapter 2 will be posted next week and the plan is to post weekly, there will be 4-5 chapters (depending on how far the muse takes me)
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All my fics are also on AO3
***
You should have known something was off the second Ben sat down in front of you in the library that morning. You two hadn’t spoken since you’d broken up, some 6 months ago now. The split had been amicable but neither of you had felt the need to pretend to remain friends afterwards. He was a stranger to you now and you preferred it that way.
You both moved in different social circles in the university these days, meaning he was living his dream as a popular fuck boy getting drunk every night and you spent most nights in your dorm room focusing on your studying.
“I need a favor,” he bluntly started the conversation.
“No,” you answered without looking up from your book.
“I think you should hear me out first.”
“Ben, we haven’t spoken in months,” you sighed,”What makes you think I would help you now?”
He leaned closer to you over the table, making you lean back to keep the distance between you two.
“The firm I’ve been dreaming of getting into is offering an internship to whoever scores highest on this upcoming test,” he explained.
“Great, you should start hitting the books then.”
“It’s no use.”
“Why not? I thought you were so smart?”
“I am so smart,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes,”But not as smart as him.”
You looked up and noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore but his gaze was drawn to the guy sitting a few tables away. You recognized him instantly: ugly outdated shirt, even uglier beige cargo pants and big glasses on his nose, buried into his books as usual. The biggest nerd on campus and beyond: Michael Gavey.
“He’s your competition?” you snorted,”Good luck with that!”
“Luck won’t help me, that’s why I need your help.”
“What on earth am I going to do? I suck at math, you know that.”
“That’s not why I need you,” he shook his head and sighed,”A job at that firm is my dream, it’s what I’ve always wanted and worked towards for the past two years.”
“And if you pass that test you’ll get it.”
“Nobody can beat Gavey, everyone knows the guy’s a fucking genius.”
“Then he deserves the internship, don’t you think?”
”He can literally get any job he chooses, I need this one and I won’t let that freak take it from me.”
For the first time you leaned forward and looked into his eyes, indulging him and giving into your own curiosity.”What do you want from me then?”
“Look at him, I bet that guy’s never even had a girl look at him twice, especially not a pretty girl like you, that dude’s got virgin written all over him, hasn’t he?”
“How is that any of your business, Ben? Maybe he’s not even interested in girls, you ever though of that?” you opted, deliberately ignoring his compliment.
“Oh, believe me he’s interested, I’ve seen him stare when he thinks nobody’s looking. He may pretend to be above all that but the fucker is just as horny as the rest of us.”
“Speak for yourself.” You leaned back and kept your eyes on him while you crossed your arms,”You still haven’t told me what you want from me.”
“I was thinking, having a pretty girl like you pay attention to him might take his mind off all this studying, a distraction like that could kill a man’s entire focus.”
“Only a man who thinks with his dick.”
He smirked at you,”Or a man who’s never had his dick touched.”
“You’re fucking disgusting."
He lifted his hands in innocence,”I just want you to distract the guy a little, make him forget about stupid tests and internships so I can have a fighting chance.”
”You want me to fuck him,” you realized.
He gave you a lazy smirk, his gaze hardening suddenly,“I want you to do whatever it takes to ruin him.”
The words left his mouth so casually and easily it was making you nervous.
“You’re mad, there’s no way. Ask one of the whores you always hang out with, I’m sure there’s plenty…”
“I’ve asked, none of them want him.”
You sighed, annoyed.”Of course they don’t.”
“I need it to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only one I can convince to do this.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that and you shook your head,”You’re out of your mind if you think I would even consider…”
He didn’t let you finish your sentence but instead shoved a photo towards you on the table.
“What is this?”
“This is what I would call leverage.”
You looked at him in confusion,”This is just a blurry picture, what am I supposed to be looking at?”
He smirked at you,”Do you remember that one night we got insanely crazy drunk and I borrowed my roommate’s camera?”
It was only then that you realized what you were watching. It was a picture of a video. A video of a night you had tried very hard to erase from your memory, a night you wished had never happened.
“You kept that?” you asked quietly, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach quickly growing. 
“It never left my computer,” he said as if it was something to be proud of,”And I guess…we’d both like it to stay on there wouldn’t we? And not…get lost on the internet or around university or something, I mean…I imagine you wouldn’t want that, right?”
You looked at him in complete disbelief and your voice was shaking with your next words,”You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t do that.”
His dark eyes stayed locked on yours,”Don’t doubt that I will do whatever it takes to get what I want, sweetheart.”
You shivered at the cold determination in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” he added,” but I need you to do what I ask if you want that video to stay with me. Get to know Gavey, make him believe you’re interested, how far you take it…is entirely up to you. Just make it work.”
****
You found Michael in his same spot in the library the next day, leaning on his elbow while he was taking notes in one of his many text books. 
For a few moments you just watched him from a distance, watched how enthralled he was in his work, how focussed his eyes were on the pages in front of him, how he kept pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in concentration. If the world around him caught on fire right now he probably wouldn’t even notice, all he had eyes for were the numbers in front of him. Ben was right to fear him, this guy’s focus was top-tier, it would take a lot more than a silly girl like yourself to break it. 
But what choice did you have? You had to try.
You stood frozen for a while, uncertain as to how you were going to proceed. You didn’t want to be here and just the thought of what you had to do made your stomach turn. But Ben had left you with no other choice. If that video ever saw the light of day it was over for you.
You swallowed your nerves and walked up to Michael’s table and took a seat opposite him, trying to act both casual and confident. But you were too nervous to pull either of those off.
You cleared your throat before you spoke,”Hey.”
Michael didn’t react, he didn’t even flinch, making you think he hadn’t heard you at all. 
You opened your mouth to speak again but he beat you to it,”What do you want?”
He was still writing and didn’t bother to look up at you.
“Michael?” you asked carefully,”Michael Gavey?”
“You know my name, congratulations, what do you want?”
Your heart sank. How were you ever going to distract this guy when he didn’t even acknowledge your presence? How were you in any position to get his attention when he wasn’t even interested enough to grant you a simple glance?
This was going to be a lot harder than you thought.
“I need a tutor,” you blurted out.
“I’m not your guy,” he answered immediately with a small shake of his head.
“So you’re not the smartest guy on campus then? Shit, I must have been misinformed,” you tried to lighten the mood and it seemed to work.
His lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles but it was gone as quickly as it appeared,”Flattery doesn’t work on me.”
“Flattery works on everyone. Come on.”
He was shaking his head again all the while still writing things down in his notebook, determined to keep up his act of ignoring you and it was starting to piss you off.
“It’s rude not to look at people when they talk to you, you know?” 
Michael just shrugged his shoulders,”Tutoring is a waste of my time, go find someone else.”
“You’re the smartest guy here.”
“I already told you, flattery will get you nowhere.”
“I can pay you,” you blurted out and just like that you had his attention. He stopped writing and put his pen down, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
“Right,” he sighed,”Because money opens every door, does it?” 
His gaze was hard and his lips pursed in a thin line, he was clearly annoyed with you.
“No, that’s not…”
”You rich pricks think money will buy you everything your little heart desires. It’s fucking pathetic.”
“That’s not what I meant…I’m not…” you sighed, defeated as you watched Michael pack up his notebooks and rise from his seat.
“Piss off, spoilt little rich girl and ask one of your rich friends to tutor you. I am not your guy.”
And that was it. You failed before you even had the chance to really try. You weren’t one to give up easily but after that interaction you had no hope of ever getting close to Michael Gavey. The guy was rude and insufferable and clearly not interested in you in any way.
You tried to carry on with your days after that but the weight of Ben’s threat was hanging over your shoulders and dragging you down, making you anxious every day. You were frustrated at the power he still held over you. And even more frustrated by the fact that there was nothing you could do about it.
Your mind was somewhere else entirely when you started your shift at the local pizza place that Thursday night. At least work gave you something to do and keep yourself busy instead of eating yourself up with worry every night. When the manager called asking if you were available for some extra shifts that week you jumped at the chance.
You were working on automatic pilot that night, making your way through the tables and taking clients orders when you arrived at his table.
“Good evening, sir, how may I help you tonight?”
It was only when you looked up and the person in front of you lowered his menu that you recognized him. Gavey.
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when his eyes met yours, a flash of recognition running across his face.
“It’s…you,” he realized and looking at your name plate he called you by your name.
“Yes, it’s me, hi,” you sighed, trying to stay polite even though he had been so rude to you last time. God, please, don’t let him be a difficult customer, you were not in the mood for this tonight. “What can I get for you, Michael?” you asked with your best customer service smile.
Much to your surprise Michael returned your smile with one of his own, a little awkward and probably as forced as yours but at least he wasn’t calling you names or yelling at you this time. And instead of avoiding your eyes he couldn’t seem to look away from you tonight.
“You…work here?” he asked, confused,”I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I usually only work the weekends, I’m filling in for a sick colleague tonight,” you explained,”The extra money is always welcome, you know.”
“You’re not…you’re not one of them,” he realized, his voice softer than you had ever heard it.
“One of who?” 
“Those vapid rich cunts you always hang out with.”
And just like that he was making it harder to remain polite again.
“They’re just my class mates, Michael, they’re not friends. Unlike some people I am mature enough to be civilized and polite to people even if I don’t like them much. It’s called being an adult, you should try it some time.”
Michael was quiet, his eyes dropping down to the menu before he gave you his order and sank back down into his seat. You almost felt sorry for him seeing him sit there all alone while most people were out with friends tonight.
Almost. Maybe if the guy wasn’t such a dick all the time he’d have friends to have dinner with and not look like such a loser.
When you returned with his food shortly after he just gave you a polite nod and a quiet “Thank you”, which you reciprocated with a quick nod of your own.
“You didn’t spit into my food, did you?” he then asked, making you turn back around.
“No,” you sighed,”I wouldn’t do that. Not even to you.”
He smiled weakly,“Not even when I deserve it?”
You couldn’t help your lips from curling up into a little smile at his unexpected admission of guilt,”No, not even then.”
“Thanks,” he nodded quickly.
“Enjoy your food.”
When you came to his table later to clean up you found a napkin properly folded with your name written on it. You opened it to find a generous tip inside and a message: “Food was excellent, customer service needs some work”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes,”Fucking asshole.” But then you read the next line:
“PS If you still want that tutor meet me in the library tomorrow night at 8”
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mrsnancywheeler · 5 months
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the lakes (4) // finnick odair x f. reader
summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.
previous chapter / next chapter
midnight rain
2.6k words
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warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and allusions of trafficking and sexualization of reader/finnick by capitol, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions of past break up, allusions to death/violence, playful banter, no use of y/n, UNEDITED, me trying to write peeta, trauma, allusions to mental illness, survivors guilt
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The couch in all its neon greeness had been the same over the last 6 years. With the same garishly neon blue pillows in obnoxious shapes and as you stared at it it brought back when you and Conway had anxiously sat on it. When you began nervously sucking up to him, playing his sensitive side.
“I'm worried about you." Finnick popped a grape into his mouth as he sat on one of the velvety seats at the table. Honesty was his new approach, to tell you exactly what he was thinking especially if it was about you to force you to do the same. You were only a couple hours into the morning and this was evident.
“Why, Finnick?" You sighed, not in annoyance, well maybe a little bit in annoyance, but mostly the sigh had been one of love.
“I know we've both been back before, but not as tributes. You're going to start thinking about your games again as we go through the same steps. I'm worried you won't stay grounded."
“Yeah, well, I have you and as long as I can be in your arms I'll be okay."
He nodded observing you carefully, to make sure you weren't repressing anything deep within you, but he seemed satisfied for now. “It's not just you, I'm sure we're all going to be thinking a lot about the first time we were in this position." Finnick shrugged, grabbing another handful of grapes.
“Are you gonna be able to stay grounded?" You asked, putting down the knife you were using to butter your toast.
"I've managed this long.” He smirked, leaning forward, "Plus I've got you, angel.” 
You rolled your eyes,"You're so cheesy.”
"What? So it's cheesy when I do it, but not when you do it?”
"Exactly.” You laughed. "Second day of married life and you're already catching on!”
"I'm a fast learner.” He raised his eyebrows, grinning.
The door opened and in came your escort. “Good morning, you two! Glad to see you've broken no more glasses, Finnick." She tutted, her dress was an eyesore to look at. You loved color, but her clashing bright ones made your head hurt.
“Nope, I've remembered my manners, Koalema.” 
"Well that's good! Oh look, we're so close to arrival.” She kept babbling about something probably nonsensical. Koalema, why had you never been able to recall that name? You felt bad for not remembering, but it was so hard when she was flurry of chaos and overstimulation. 
Finnick stood up and held his hand out for you, “Well here we go, angel. Be ready to put on that beloved smile and have those tears ready to spill. They love that about you." You took his hand and pulled yourself out of your seat.
“You don't need any instruction from me, always the charmer."
“Yeah, well I've had longer." The two of you prepared to greet the vultures waiting to eat up upon arrival. Standing in front of the window, hands tightly clasped together ready to gracefully swoop up your audience in their desired fantasy for the final time. 
To smile at the people who had taken everything from you and completely controlled every aspect in your life. How people saw you, your relationship with Finnick, your relationship with yourself and your body, anything that you could think of they had somehow pulled strings in it. All of your life was under their thumb and you realized the lengths you would go to stop that, what would life be like when all you had left was memories that never needed to be reopened?
              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
It was beautiful. There was more food than you'd ever be able to eat and not a single scent of the salty seafood you were used to. Bright colors etched into your brain and everything was so modern, so clean. You had no idea what you'd expected, but it blew you away.
“This is where you two will be staying on our way to the Capitol! Isn't it beautiful? No expense has been spared, District 4 has a pretty good reputation of course and we'd like to keep that! So be in awe, but not so much that you forget about that." The garish woman said so cheerfully you were convinced you misheard her.
“No we wouldn't want that." Conway muttered and the woman gave him a sharp smile.
“Make yourselves at home, I do believe the two of you are very lucky and get the one, the only Finnick Odair as one of your mentors this year. Let me check on that and possibly, Odine." Her heels clicked out the room which inexplicably opened just as she stood in front of it.
Home. You'd never see home again, never swim in the comfort of its waters, see your family, lay in the warm sand. Yes, you would if you could win this, but you couldn't. And Finnick, how were you supposed to think about strategy when he would be right there?
“Are you okay?" A soft hand landed on your shoulder and Conway's deep, brown eyes spoke as much comfort as they could for you. Of course you weren't okay, how could you be? But saying that wouldn't endear him into you, so you melted into his touch.
You shook your head, closing your eyes, and sniffling. “What about you? How was your family?" 
“Well at least I'm here with you and they'll be okay, at least they have each other too." Yes, at least you had someone you knew, yet also didn't that make it more difficult? He didn't ask about your family though, maybe if you kept a tally you'd feel less guilty by the end.
“Yeah, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have someone I trusted. I'm just so scared, Conway.” With that you'd erupted into tears and he pulled his arms around you. They weren't stiff, but weren't comforting, not that you really needed his comfort.
“It's okay, we've got each other."
You already hated yourself.
With that the automatic door slid open, but you didn't tear yourself away. You knew who it would be, but he wouldn't believe you if you jumped from him. So you slowly moved your hands to wipe your face and made your voice shake as you let out your sweetest, “Thank you."
He nodded eagerly, he didn't say of course but you could see it in his eyes. A warm, but brisk voice interrupted the moment. “Glad you've already decided to ally with each other, makes it much more difficult when the tributes won't talk to one another." Finnick’s honeycomb sweet voice finally drew your eyes to his.
“Yes, it's an easier angle to work with." A tall woman beside him agreed, you recognized her from the screens, Ondine Afron, she sounded more tired then you'd remembered.
“We’ll be your mentors, teaching you with our experience the best ways to survive, how to get sponsors, and whatever else could help." Finnick grabbed a sugar cube from the bowl by the teapot, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.
Yes and him being a mentor could throw a wrench in your plans. Conway had heard every bit of the emotional rollercoaster that had been Finnick Odair, how could you convince him you loved him instead when the man of all your affections was right there.
“Nice to meet you both." Conway said curtly, he let himself glare slightly at the other man. Usually you'd scold him for this, you weren't the type to want tension, but you needed him to trust you. So you leaned into his side, looking up at him as innocently as you could. Willingly him with every molecule to believe you and for Finnick to leave you alone enough to make your performance more outstanding.
Later that night when you'd wandered the train's halls in a nightgown with a softness like you'd never experienced before, you'd passed by Finnick who had nothing but praise for the plan we could tell you were hatching. Of course he could tell, he knew every morsel of your being. 
“You're so smart, angel, the way you came up with that in a matter of seconds. Being good on your feet like that could save you in the arena." He'd whispered, softly above the mechanical noises your brain had hyper fixated on since your arrival. 
“Don't call me that." You muttered.
He sighed, looking down, “I'm sorry. I'm just-"
“Yeah, I know."
“You know I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if I haven't always been able to tell you what and now I've failed, but here you are, I mean the way you manipulated your eyes like that was brilliant. The audience is going to be under your finger just keep doing what you're doing." Suddenly his hands were around yours, a movement so familiar it made you shudder.
“Finnick, please don't." You tugged your hands, half-heartedly, not really letting them escape his loose grip.
“I'm sorry, I know you don't understand why I hurt you, but it'll all make sense once you win this thing."
“Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, this was a tiring waltz between the two of you. Him claiming it was to protect you while you couldn't know from what, even now when you were on the brink of inevitable death.
“I promise." He stilled all his shifting and movements, sea green eyes boring so deeply into the depths of your heart there was no choice but to trust him. You couldn't help yourself and leaned in, delicately letting your lips graze his cheek.
“I have to go find his room. You know, do what I can." There was slight laughter behind your tone and Finnick nodded, softly smiling.
"My smart girl.” He muttered, glowing in the lamp light. I miss you, your brain screamed as you gazed at him, suddenly the tears you were trying to force up to sell your act were easier to conjure up. So you left him in the dim lights of the train car to convince Conway of how badly you needed his comfort now that you were away from home.
               𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“Secret wedding is all anyone can talk about." Your designer, Cambrie, sounded like bright citrus, drinking orange juice for breakfast. “Especially those seaweed rings, so bolstering for my ideas to run their course!" She smiled, clearly full of anticipation for her idea to be revealed to you.
Truthfully you couldn't care less about it, you wanted to be back at Finnick's side. As the years passed being alone with people from the Capitol no matter who they were or what they intended nauseated you. “Oh come on, Cambrie, I'm going to die of anticipation!" You proclaimed with as much drama as you could, pouting.
"Oh you're adorable.” She clapped like you were some sort of performing dog and pinched your cheeks, actually pinched your cheeks. The infantilization made you want to retreat but that would never be an option. “Reignbaugh was going to go with a fishing net to look for Finnick to pay homage to the District of course, and similarly with you I was thinking to draw it together, but the seaweed combined to call back to the rings. Everyone will eat it up, and oh I have a lovely pearl headdress you are going to be stunning!” 
You gushed to her, but internally felt your stomach turn. This really meant she was going to try and show as much as you off as she could. Of course this turned out to be true. The outfit could have been beautiful if in reality it wasn't so dehumanizing. The seaweed running through the fishing net dress that adorned you barely covered your nipples and much of your body was clearly visible to those who stood close enough.
"And of course for the Capitol Princess.” Cambrie announced, placing her elegantly made crown, you had to admit it was beautiful. The way each pearl shined between the seaweed. Although you did think the seaweed usage was over the top, the choice of it for the rings hadn't really been significant, it was just there in a place you both loved. It was marketable though. Her and your other stylists had also gone to great effort to make your eyes look as watery as possible, even adding pearly effects to make it look like you were crying them. It was too all too much, but you oohh’d and awed which they adored you even more for. 
“Don't you look handsome." You remarked all too sarcastically as you approached Finnick and his bare chest. 
“Oh just smile and wave, angel, they're savoring the last time they'll see either of us like this.” It was lighthearted and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, but it did comfort you. Eventually your body would simply be yours again." There she is.” He whispered, your eyes followed him to her, Katniss Everdeen.
“Well you better go make your introduction then."
“Well ladies first." He gestured, expectantly.
“No, I don't think my first introduction should be like this." You pointed up and down the outfit. "You go, it'll seem perfectly on brand for you.”
Finnick nodded, you could tell he had more he wanted to say, to lecture on but there wasn't much time. You looked around the room, toying with the fishnet nervously before you heard someone call your name and looked in the direction.
"Didn't expect you to be the type with nerves.” A voice quickly caught your attention. Peeta Mellark.
"Only at the worst times.” You grimaced, shaking your head. 
Peeta smiled, "Well I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who gets them.” 
"Oh far from it, I bet you 75% of the people in here are trying not to throw up right now.” 
“Which one's are fine then?" He stood by you observing the occupants.
“While obviously it's neither of us, I'm thinking District 11 too many years in for either of them to be worrying."
“1 & 2?"
“Bingo!" You announced, tilting your head.
“Surprised you didn't say Katniss." He remarked.
"Surprised you didn't say Finnick.” You countered.
"The thrills of pretending to not be shaking.” He shook his head with a smirk.
"Masters of that game. In fact she looks like she might just kill him now.” You tried not to laugh at how Katniss looked at Finnick who you knew was trying desperately to work his charms.
"Well, I'd best go save him then.”
"Oh, yes it would only be mildly entertaining.”
"It was nice meeting you, considering the circumstances.” Peeta exuded kindness in a way you could only aspire too, it genuinely hurt your soul.
“Yes, a mind numbing extravaganza thrown here would have been much more enjoyable, as horrendous as that is to say." 
"I only ever attended one and just from that, I ever so gravely attest to that. I better go break the two up before she attacks.”
"Oh please do, can't have him squabbling already.” Peeta smiled and soon enough Finnick was stalking back your way.
"She'll come around.” He assured before you could even open your mouth as the two of you stepped into the carriage.
"I'm sure she will. Peeta and I could feel the tension from a room away.”
"Everybody likes me.”
"I'm sure talking like that is exactly why she doesn't.” You nudged him playfully.
"Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.
"That's no way to talk to your wife, Mr. Odair.” 
“I apologize, Mrs. Odair." He pulled you in for a kiss just as the carriage came into the bright sunlight, the screaming proved its effectiveness to you. It was sure to leave an impact on them when they looked back on the tribute parade. 
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
thank you all again for your continued reading and support, especially since I feel like this is so slow paced but there's so much I want to get in there. if you enjoyed feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated, as always my inbox is wide open for any thoughts y'all have! so excited for getting into the training parts and some rebellion planning in the next part. love y'all so much, thank you again 💕💋
taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight
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burntheedges · 2 months
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Worth It For Once
Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3  chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!
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summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.
a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡
tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall
...
You could hear them talking about you.
You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.
It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.
You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”
As always, it didn't really help.
You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.
Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 
“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.
“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left. 
“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.
Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”
You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.
Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”
You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”
With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”
You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.
But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene. 
“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”
You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”
She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”
You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.
“My offer to punch him still stands.” 
Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.
“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”
Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.
The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.
Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.
You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.
You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take. 
It was him.
Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.
Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop. 
As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.
Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.
“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.
“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.
“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.
You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.
There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.
Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.
One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.
His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.
Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.
Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.
“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”
You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless. 
“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?
Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look. 
“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.
“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.
Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.” 
You winced.
“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”
You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”
Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”
You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”
“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”
You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”
“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”
You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”
Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.
“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”
You nodded and started to smile. 
He smiled back. “When are you free?” 
“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”
He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”
Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.
You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.
Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together. 
Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)
You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.
“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.
You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”
She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”
“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.
“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach. 
“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”
He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”
You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.
“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”
The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.” 
It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.
Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.
Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.
“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.
“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner. 
Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”
She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around. 
“Great,” you muttered.
She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.
Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him. 
He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”
“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”
Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”
You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.
“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”
“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”
“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed. 
He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”
You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”
You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.
“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.
He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.” 
You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.
A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her. 
“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you. 
He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him. 
You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”
You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking. 
“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.
“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.
“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.
Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–” 
You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”
He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”
Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough. 
“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”
“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”
Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”
You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.
“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”
“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”
“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”
He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.
You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”
The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him. 
Frankie smiled. “You sure?”
“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”
Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.
“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch. 
“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you. 
“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this. 
You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.” 
“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled. 
“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”
“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand. 
“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.
You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”
Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”
Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”
You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”
Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”
You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”
He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”
You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”
“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”
Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”
You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”
He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”
Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”
The next night, you were anxious.
Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.
He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.
You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.
Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.
Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat. 
“Frankie, you look–”
“Hermosa, te–”
You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together. 
“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered. 
“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”
Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.
“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked. 
“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”
You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.” 
On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.
“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned. 
“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. 
When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant. 
“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date. 
The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.
“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard. 
You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better. 
Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –
But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.
You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.” 
He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.
You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table. 
“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.” 
He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.” 
You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”
Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”
You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last. 
The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.
By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.
He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.
But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner. 
They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.
You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door. 
Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.
“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.
“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”
He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.
After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”
You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”
He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”
You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful. 
“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again. 
“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.
Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.
By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch. 
As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.
You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.” 
You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.
“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you. 
Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.
He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.
“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours. 
“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.
You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”
He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.
“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”
You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”
“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”
You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words. 
He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes. 
“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.
Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”
“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”
You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.” 
He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)
You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.
“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 
Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.
“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.
“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”
You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.
He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them. 
“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”
“Frankie–” you started, breathless.
He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise. 
You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.
“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.
You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there. 
You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.
“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning. 
“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”
You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.
“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched. 
Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.” 
His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled. 
“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.” 
He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”
He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.
You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.
As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”
You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.” 
As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.
He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”
You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed. 
“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.” 
“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss. 
He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.
“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.
He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.
“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation. 
“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.
“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)
You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.
“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”
You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.
“Hey, look at me.”
You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.
He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.
He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.
“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”
You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.
On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.
He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.
After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.
“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”
You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.
“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)
On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.
He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.
It was beautiful.
His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..
“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”
You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.
“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.
“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.
You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”
“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.
After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.
“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.
You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”
You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.” 
You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.” 
He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”
As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again. 
Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.
...
a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡
tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese
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back2bluesidex · 28 days
Text
Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)
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Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut
Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!
Word count: 4.1k+
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.
Main Masterlist
Chapters:- 
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
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It’s been long since you had any physical action. 
Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches. 
And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release. 
So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light. 
Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life. 
“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you. 
“Should I?” you reply breathlessly. 
And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally. 
“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation. 
Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him. 
Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified. 
You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes. 
You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that. 
No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own. 
And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments. 
But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy. 
You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms. 
You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.
You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts. 
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you. 
“Am I?” you mirror his actions. 
“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.” 
Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.
His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book. 
Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?” 
His skin is smooth much like his words. 
Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible. 
“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.” 
You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more. 
Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?” 
“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?” 
“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his. 
“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.”  as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours. 
This time the kiss is slow. 
Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter. 
You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well. 
Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin. 
His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.
Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat. 
“Hoseok” you moan breathily. 
Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core. 
Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in. 
Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance. 
“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be. 
Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside. 
You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he. 
“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.
You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.  
“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in. 
“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you. 
“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now. 
“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?” 
“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.” 
“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity. 
Hoseok looks at you. 
Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed. 
So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-” 
“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off. 
Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend? 
When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.” 
You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier. 
His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet. 
Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself. 
As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating. 
“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso. 
“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly. 
“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat. 
He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.” 
He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.  
“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.
“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!” 
His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine. 
He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so. 
“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom. 
“B-but Sua is-”
“Her room is upstairs, remember?” 
“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence. 
Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again. 
“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan. 
When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises. 
Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom. 
On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers. 
He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks. 
His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin. 
“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views. 
Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips. 
“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat. 
As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars. 
He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it. 
And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building. 
His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.” 
“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth. 
“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets. 
You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.
When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again. 
“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat. 
Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch. 
But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?” 
Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.” 
Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth. 
He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.  
“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly. 
He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving. 
“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist. 
The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!” 
“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you. 
Within a moment you are on your fours. 
He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.
His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again. 
The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again. 
“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply. 
“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom. 
Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself. 
But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly. 
Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues. 
Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep. 
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He still can’t believe it. 
Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you. 
Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.
He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.
Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep. 
You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles. 
“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect. 
“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname. 
“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone. 
“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose. 
“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that. 
“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed. 
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“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that. 
“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion. 
Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.” 
“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you. 
He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?” 
He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips. 
“If you say so.” you murmur. 
Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye. 
“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?” 
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” 
“Great then.” 
And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days. 
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Saturday comes painfully slowly. 
But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement. 
You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why. 
You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat. 
The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival. 
So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm. 
As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.
“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside. 
He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles. 
“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk. 
“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.” 
“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud. 
Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him. 
He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans. 
“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace. 
“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days. 
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“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak. 
“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second. 
“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt. 
He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.” 
“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit. 
“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that. 
“Don’t tease me, Y/N!”  his nails dig into the flesh of your waist. 
“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”  
“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips. 
And just then the doorbell rings. 
You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss. 
“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door. 
“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer. 
Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not. 
“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies. 
You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat. 
So you open the door. 
But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend. 
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The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.
He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door. 
“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth. 
This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. 
Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.  
“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday. 
Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.  
“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.
“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-” 
For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then? 
But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off. 
“Y/N, please.” 
“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.” 
“Y/N, listen to me-”
“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you. 
You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”. 
Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already. 
“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom. 
“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger. 
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Taglist 1:-
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika
Taglist 2:-
@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx
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talewrites · 2 months
Text
Fragile Part 7
Sorry for the wait! It was hard to focus while writing this chapter, so I might be editing it for mistakes here and there. I hope you like it! :] <3
Generation: Bayverse TMNT
Tmnt x Reader Fanfic
Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)
Warnings: injury, broken limbs, violence, drowning, not proof read
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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You were laying dazed on the cold metal floor. In too much pain to focus on anything else besides breathing. You heard a commotion, voices muffled through the thick glass. At least inside this tube they couldn’t touch you anymore. Your mind strayed to the turtles. You weren’t able to save them. You weren’t able to do anything. You just hope they can somehow get away safely. That April and Casey can somehow save them.
“I won’t ask again…. Where’s (y/n).” Leo growled. He grit his teeth as he lowered his stance, ready to strike.
Baxter Stockman was quickly typing commands into the program on his computer. Karai stepped in front of him and drew her katana.
“Out of your reach, Turtles.” 
“Aaaaand, there!” Stockman hit one last key on this computer and a red light started to flash on the tank, bringing the turtle’s attention to the crumpled form inside the glass. At the same time a multitude of files and programs started closing on the screen one after another, Stockman’s signature digital self-destruct program. Baxter stepped away from his computer and lifted his arms up triumphantly.
The sound of rattling pipes overhead catches your attention. 
“Ha! You’re too late, Turtles. For years, the Foot Clan has sought out the means to fight you mutants on equal footing. And now, we have our secret weapon! An endless supply of pure mutagen!!!” 
You heard a loud beeping sound, then a click, and the squeak of metal.
A gush of icy water pours down on you from above. The sudden cold shocks you and marginally distracts you from the pain. You pull yourself to the edge of the glass away from the heavy stream of water coming down from above, slowly starting to fill the base. You take a shaky deep breath and bang a fist on the glass. No use. Dizzy and numb, you look outside the tank for someone, something, anything that might help you. That’s when you see them.
And with dawning horror, they see you.
“Guys….?” You press your wet hand up against the glass. They’re here! They’re safe!!!
“(Y/n)....? (Y/N)!!!!” Leo shouts and lunges towards the tank. He tries to rush up to the glass but Rocksteady blocks his path. There’s blood on your cheek, and even a good distance away he can tell you’re in bad shape. 
“OUT OF OUR WAY!” Raph roared at Bebop and Rocksteady, crossing his sai in preparation for a fight.
“Uuuh hey guys? Why is (y/n) in a giant fish bowl…?” Mikey asked, nunchucks at the ready.
“They ain’t comin’ out anytime soon, short stack.” Bebop said with an evil grin. 
“You turtles totally fell for our trap!” Rocksteady chuckled.
Donnie immediately noticed the computer hooked up to the tank’s controls. He tried to subtly sneak past Bebop to get to Stockman but Karai stepped forward and blocked his path.
Karai pointed her sword at Donnie. “The Foot will be unstoppable.”
“And I will FINALLY get the recognition I deserve, for single-handedly creating an entire race of superhumans that will rule over the city!!!” 
“You’re crazy!! You don’t even know what kind of side effects that mutation will have on regular humans!” Donnie activated the electricity at the end of his bo staff, ready to fight Karai to get to Stockman. 
“I do have to thank you turtles for activating their mutant gene. Without your help, none of this would be possible!” Stockman’s laugh echoed through the large room. He waltz over to the canister filling up with the distilled mutagen from your blood. “We originally got (y/n) by a…. foreseeable mistake. But to our surprise, they survived where others had failed. And yet- their results were incomplete. Their animal DNA wasn’t materializing no matter what we did to them. So we came back to New York, where the population could supply us with countless more test subjects.” Baxter said cheerfully, popping the lid off the canister. “But now that we have the results we wanted, we have no need of them! We can preserve (y/n)’s body in a special chemical compound that will put them into a permanent hibernation. No need to worry, their body will be harnessed for science!” Stockman’s laugh was deep and evil, and to everyone’s shock-
He dumped the canister of mutagen over his own head.
Karai lept back out of the trajectory of the splash. Baxter’s laugh increased in volume as he began to morph and change. His head and eyes grew large, his body shrank, little papery wings sprouted from his back, and he mutated into a giant mutant fly. 
Bebop and Rocksteady were stunned by the transformation. “Eeeeewwww… he turned into a bug?” Bebop whined.
“Nasty!” Rocksteady shook his head. Neither of them were paying attention to the turtles so Raph and Donnie covered for Leo and Mikey to make a break for the tank you were in. By now it had filled enough that you were starting to float.
“We’re here babe! We’re gonna get you out!” Mikey reassured you. 
You whimpered helplessly. You were having a hard time keeping your head above water, not really able to swim with a broken dislocated arm and broken ankle. 
“Stay back!” Leo sliced at the glass, and Mikey hit it with his nunchucks as hard as he could, but their attacks barely left a scratch!
“Guys! We have incoming!” Donnie yelled as Stockman had started flying around the room, maniacally laughing as he swooped down and kicked the back of Mikey’s shell, almost knocking him over. 
“Dude, gross!” Mikey protested. Stockman looked to be drooling some kind of acid substance from his mouth.
Bebop and Rocksteady had recovered and started to charge towards them. Leo and Mikey had to jump away from your tank to avoid getting trampled. 
“Donnie, that glass is as hard as steel!!” Leo jumped up and kicked Rocksteady across his cheek, then retreated.
“What’re we gonna do? (Y/n)’s tank is already half full!” Raph shouted. He was using his sai to hold back Bebop’s tusks as he tried to charge them. 
You were doing your best to calm your breathing enough that you could float, but every time your head ducked below water you panicked. Your body was exhausted and protested against your desperate movements, but you needed to survive long enough for the boys to break you out.
“Donnie! See if you can turn off the water!!! I’ve got Karai.” Leo ordered
“Mikey! It’s you and me!” Raph called over, clanging his sai together and shouted a war cry running up to strike Rocksteady. 
“What?! What about the bug brained dude??!! Eep!” Mikey ducked as Stockman flew over his head. He looked down and realized he was kneeling at the feet of Bebop, who had taken the black taser out of his pocket.
“You wanna taste too, little man?” 
When Bebop flicked on the taser, Mikey saw the small stains of fresh blood on the pointed tips that buzzed with electricity. He looked back over to you struggling in the tank and how heavily injured you looked.
He saw red.
Mikey had a rare moment of true anger as he jumped to his feet and knocked the taser out of Bebop’s hand with his nunchucks, and in a flurry of rapid hits he beat back the warthog. He finished him off with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head.
“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING WITH MY BAE!” He shouted triumphantly.
Raph looked back to Mikey with wide eyes, proud of his little bro for letting loose. “Woah. Way to go Mikey!” He ducked a hit from Rocksteady and punched him hard under his chin. Knocking him out cold. 
Leo was crossing swords with Karai. She was a skilled fighter. But he was much stronger than her. While he pushed her back with a heavy strike, she slipped on some of the mutagen that had spilled on the floor, allowing Leo to take advantage of the opening and disarmed her. He flicked her sword out of her hand and knocked her back. She glared daggers at him, quickly recovering. But seeing as Bebop and Rocksteady were knocked out, she opted for a tactical retreat.
“This is just the beginning.” She hissed and ran out of the lab door. 
Stockman was buzzing around your tank, still laughing maniacally. 
“You turtlezzzzz cannot defeat the mighty Dr Stockman!! I am invincible!! I am-“
Donnie turned on the taser at the end of his bo staff and vaulted it at the annoying human insect, striking him and electrocuting him, knocking him out of the air to fall on the floor with a gross splat.
“Good thing I always carry a bug zapper.” He deadpanned.
Donnie went back to trying to hack into Stockmans computer. He managed to get past the firewall with his hacking program, but he discovered that all of the interfaces connected to the tank control had been erased. 
There was no way to stop the tank from filling up completely. Donnie would have to write a whole new interface from scratch to control the tank.
There was no time.
You were running out of air, trying desperately to keep your head above water as the tank was almost full to the top. You took in one last deep breath just as the water consumed the last of the space. You held your good hand over your mouth and nose hard, trying to hold in the air, and floated down towards the bottom of the tank. 
No more air.
“(Y/N)!!!” 
“ANGEL CAKES!!!” Donnie and Mikey yelled out in panic.
Your eyes snapped open, hearing their muffled voices outside the tank. You swam over to the glass and met eyes with Raphael. He had picked a spot and began punching at the glass over and over again with his sai in his fists.
The needled jabs just managed to scratch the surface. 
You looked at him sadly through the glass. He was stressed, sweating and desperate to break through. Mikey had grabbed a chair and had chucked it at the glass from another spot but it just bounced off and broke on the floor.
Leo was standing behind Donnie with his hand on his shoulder, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. 
Time was running out. You were choking on the stale air in your lungs. Head getting dizzy from lack of oxygen. You removed your hand from your mouth and pressed it up to the glass, some bubbles of air escaping your mouth. Your eyebrows knit together to concentrate on not breathing in the fluid in the tank. But you were suffocating and in pain. 
It was hard.
You looked back up at Raph, and forced a smile on your face. You felt sad. You didn’t want them to see you like this. They felt so far away. 
Darkness was consuming your vision. The last remaining bubbles of air escaped from your mouth and your eyes slipped closed. 
“NO!!! NO-! (Y/N), STAY WITH US.” Raph pounded his fist hard against the glass. 
“DAMN IT.” Donnie frustratingly slammed his fist down next to the keyboard, his head falling into his hands. None of the lines of command coding he was typing in were working.
Leo left Donnie’s side and strode up to the tank.
“Move.” Leo ordered as he came up behind Raph. He unsheathed his swords and began slicing at the glass again. It was barely making a scratch. But combined with the small dents Raph had been making, he was slowly chipping away at the surface.
“Leo! If you can manage to cut 1.2 centimeters deep, it should weaken the glass enough to shatter with enough force!” Donnie yelled from where he was still furiously typing into the stationed keyboard. His attempts to unlock the system all in vain. 
Leo and Raph worked together to stab and slice at the weakest point in the glass until finally-
*crack*
A small fracture appeared in the glass. 
“There!!” Donnie called out. Raph and Leo switched to charging at the door and ramming it full force with their shoulders. Over and over as the cracks grew wider and wider.
Mikey came over, and with a hand on Leo’s shoulder, the leader stepped aside to let his little brother help. Mikey joined Raph and rammed the glass again with such force the crack split all the way across the glass. One more strike-
The glass shattered on impact.
The gush of water that burst through swept Mikey and Raph off their feet. The floor of the lab flooded, and your body washed up on the floor. Lifeless and unmoving.
“(Y/N)!!!!!!” The boys all yelled. 
Leo reached you first, falling into a kneel at your side. He ripped out the two needles from your back and held you in his arms. Donnie rushed over and slid down into the other spot at your side, his goggles pulled into place as he quickly checked you over.
“They’re not breathing. Put them down flat, now.” Leo obeyed and laid you on your back. Donnie first pressed down on your diaphragm to check for water blocking your lungs, then began compressions. 
The room was dead quiet all except for the sounds of Donnie’s whispered counting as he pressed down on your chest. He paused, opened your mouth, pinched your nose, and breathed into your lungs. 
Mikey was nervously walking around you back and forth, and Raph watched you from a distance, a vacant expression as he watched your face for any sign of movement, pleading with himself for you to be okay. 
After what felt like an eternity, you coughed. Leo quickly rolled you lay on your side. You spit up water, gasping for air. You felt like you were coughing up a lung full of ethanol. 
Mikey cheered and Raph took a deep breath, covering his face with his hands. Donnie fell backwards onto his butt and pulled his goggles off his head, so incredibly relieved you were breathing. Leo rubbed your back comfortingly as you got your breathing back under control.
Once you got a suitable amount of oxygen back in your lungs, you whimpered. Your throat was burning and a pain in your stomach and chest made it hard to breathe.
Leo picked you up again, and held you close to his chest. Your eyes fluttered open and you winced at the bright light from the ceiling.
“Welcome back.” Leo said with a smile on his face.
“Leo…?” Your voice was quiet and scratchy. You looked around at Donnie, Mikey, and Raph that all came into view around you and Leo.
“Guys….?” You felt barely conscious. Head foggy and tired like you were under water.
“We’re right here.” Donnie assured you, reaching down to pick up your good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
All the fear and emotion of drowning and being captured suddenly crashed down on you all at once. You sniffed and big tears gathered in your eyes.
“I was… so scared… I thought I was going to lose you….!” You hiccuped and sobbed as Leo held your trembling form tightly against his chest.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here. We got you.” Leo soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. He buried his nose into your damp hair and held you tight.
“You had us worried there for a minute!” Donnie was smiling at you, soft and relieved. Mikey was standing behind him rubbing tears out of his eyes.
“Let’s get you home.” Raph said, kneeling down behind you. 
“Wait. I need to splint their arm and their ankle first. Mikey, can you find me some-“
*crack*
“Will this work?” 
Mikey had already broken off the thin legs of a chair across the room. 
“Yeah that works fine.” He pulled out two rolls of gauze from one of the pockets on his belt, and took the offered sticks from Mikey, who knelt down by your feet. 
“What’re we gonna do about him?” He asked, motioning over to Stockman’s twitching form across the room.
The brothers all sneered at the fly mutant with similar levels of disgust on their faces, finding him rather gross. You smiled.
“Just leave him there, we can worry about him another time.” Leo offered, adjusting you in his grip. You winced terribly when your arm was moved. 
“….Is ...your arm dislocated?” Leo asked you, holding you upright in a sitting position, now thoroughly checking you over. 
Donnie and Mikey were working together to splint your ankle, Mikey holding up your foot while Donnie wrapped the splint to it.
“Let me see that.” Raph placed his hands on your shoulder and you clenched your teeth and whined quietly at the sharp pain.
“Leo, hold them still for a minute.” 
“Just hold onto me tightly, it’ll be over in a second.” Leo hugged you close, wrapping an arm around your good side.
Raph got hold of your tender arm, and with practiced ease, popped your shoulder back into place. You cried out loudly and buried your face in Leo’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. 
Raph tried to rub the soreness out of your poor shoulder. “Good job, princess. Now let Donnie get a look at that break.”
You hesitantly detached yourself from Leo, your shaking red and swollen arm was carefully picked up by Donnie, who set the splint and carefully wrapped the bandages.
“I’ll be able to get a better look at it with the x-ray machine back at home. For now we just have to be really careful not to jostle them too much when carrying them back.”
“I got em.” Raph volunteered. Leo looked to Raph, wordlessly nodding his head for his brother to take you from his arms.
“Careful of their arm….”
“Got it.” 
Without much effort, Raph scooped you up in his big arms. You winced as a sharp stabbing pain radiated through your stomach as you were held close to Raph’s chest.
Something was definitely wrong.
“I’m sorry, princess. It’s just until we get you home.” Raph apologized. Leo led everyone quickly out of the lab. 
Once back out in the hallway you had entered from, you noticed with visible shock the literal sea of bodies that covered the floor. Foot ninja. They fought through all of them, just to get to you.
Everyone exited the lab, careful to stick to the shadows as the sun began to rise. As the turtles made their way for their home, your stomach burned worse and worse with a white hot pain that radiated through your body. The movement of the city passing you by made you become dizzy, and your head felt like it was spinning. You felt nauseous and incredibly tired. 
“Hey Raph….?”
“Yeah princess?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you guys…. You had to save me instead….” You weren’t making any sense. Raph could barely hear you as the wind whipped past his head. You just felt so tired.
“Hey, stay with me, princess. We’re almost there. It’s okay.” Raph didn’t know what the right thing to say was. But your eyes were starting to slide closed.
“Can we…. Can we watch Princess Bride again…. When we get home….?”
Raph smiled at that.
“Yeah. We’ll watch it as many times as you want, short stack.” He didn’t care if his brothers teased him for secretly liking your girly movie. He didn’t care if he had to watch it with you a hundred times. He just wanted you to get better.
“We’re almost there. How you holding up?” 
Silence. 
“(Y/n)…?”
“Mmh?” 
Your eyes were closed.
“Come on, wake up, we’re almost there.”
He was desperate. 
“Mm…hm…” 
You hummed, but your eyelids felt too heavy to lift. You felt yourself sinking into a dark liquid abyss. You could no longer fight the pull.
“(Y/n)….. (y/n)? Hey…! Hey, no no no no no, you gotta stay awake. Come on princess…! (Y/N)!!!”
You felt Raph try to shake you awake, felt his muscles tense as he pushed himself to go faster. 
“We’re almost there, hold on…!”
“Hold on….”
Darkness overtook you.
Part 8
@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x @leonardo-dabitchy @sh1ga-to3s
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whereflowerswenttodie · 2 months
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prologue.
houses without fathers seldom count for happy endings
[ft. gojo satoru] [angst]
you are both six when you meet satoru, megumi is six when he brings the boy and his sister to you for the first time, and it’s 6:00 pm on a mundane evening when satoru says goodbye to you.
content warning: child abuse, female reader, abandonment, implied infidelity (for minor characters), fear of commitment, religious themes, deaths, heavy angst, gojo being a huge idiot.
spoilers: jjk vol. 0 & gojo’s past arc.
series masterlist | next chapter
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You write your poems in red ink, you have always used red ink, and he asks you why red every-time you ask him to buy you access ink on his way back home before he steps out in the morning to go to work.
You smile and tell him just because.
Red looks pretty, you think. Red is also the color of the blood that flows in your veins. You like red.
You and Gojo Satoru share a routine like you share your bed, neither of you has ever agreed to it, but living together came to you as naturally as light through stained glass; the different shades made it look more beautiful than it was. You are both products of your own failures, and of those who came before you. You think in another world you and Satoru could have made for more than a routine — a balanced morning and another balanced night — in another life Satoru would bring home red roses, not red ink like you ask of him. You wonder if you’d write your poems with love in some other life. And you think a lot, and wish for much more.
You know, you daydream by the window of his room; you find home in his sky-high apartment more than in your own. You suppose you must be in love, but you don’t know what love is supposed to feel like because nobody has loved you before. He tells you he loves you most nights. Some nights he is not home. Some nights, there is a faint, putrid scent of blood on his otherwise white shirt that gets red patches on it. He tells you not to worry about it, but you think you know better because most nights your mother fretted by the old coffee-stained couch in your living room while you cried in your bed. But you nod to him because he is not yours; you don’t think he owes you his truths when he lies to you. But in every universe, you will always want Gojo Satoru to come home safe and sound.
When he comes home, you watch him cook dinner as you cut vegetables and set the plates, he cleans the table and you do the dishes. You both fall asleep in the same bed, and wake up in each other’s arms, and it’s beautiful he tells you. He says he likes lying beside you; it reminds him of better days, and you believe him because you have always had him. You lay in his lap at seven, he slept in your bed at fourteen. The routine has been constant, even when he wasn’t with you; the ghost of his promises haunted you at seventeen.
You have known each other since you were six. Six is a fickle age, you know? Mama calls what you have with him fickle too, but you sing songs of him every time she holds you when he hurts you, and you don’t feel the blood that gushes out of your wounds.
Blood that should be red like the ink you use to pen down your poetry.
You write about broken people, like yourself and Satoru, even more so on hot summer days like today. You’re both fighting again. You don’t remember who started it, you think you were angry first and then Satoru threw a tantrum.
“You cannot understand the plight of a jujutsu sorcerer,” he’d screamed at you, partly out of frustration, mostly fueled by unresolved emotions. Tsumiki had to intervene and pull the two of you apart. Both of you breathing hard through rage and exhaustion alike as your other kid stood by, silent as he observed the two of you. You wonder if loving Gojo Satoru was always meant to be an endless cycle of blazing passion and icy detachment. You can only hope for a middle ground amongst the tumultuous pattern of your relationship.
“I’m sorry,” the words escape you in a mere whisper as you glance at Tsumiki halting your car at the red light, the last one before their school. Within that soft utterance, you yearn for her to discern the weight of shame and the sting of embarrassment that accompany your apology. You always tell Satoru that decency is the least you owe to these siblings who’d already witnessed another set of parents walk out of their lives.
“We are fine, don’t worry about us!” Her voice, a cheerful melody that always seems to uplift even the darkest moments, fills the car. You turn to look at Megumi, sitting in the back seat, silent as he always is. As the light turns green, you focus back on the road, guiding the car towards the school.
“Take care, finish your lunch, and Megumi,” you turn to look at the boy, “no fighting please.”
Pausing momentarily, you search for words that convey both authority and understanding in order to reprimand him for adhering to impromptu decisions of your white-haired friend without informing you.
“Next time, call me,” you finally instruct, sternly, but with a touch of gentleness, and you know he will.
As you continue your journey back to your home, you can’t help but feel grateful for this life. With its lack of stability and foundation, you still find this little life that you’ve built with them beautiful, this is the happiest you’ve ever felt. And you would never trade it for anything else, except for maybe the desires of Satoru. The beautiful, the strongest Satoru.
“Message from Satoru,” Siri speaks through your radio, “We are going out for Mochi, no kids.” And you know it’s an olive branch, the only one he knows how to extend. Because Gojo Satoru is an enigma too. One that you have learned and accepted. Integrated as an intrinsic part of yourself. Much like your routine, he too has become habitual and you cherish him.
He is beautiful like red ink on paper, you think he is even prettier than the moon, and so, so far away like the moon. You can see him like the moon. You can’t hold the moon, so you hold him and call him your moonlight.
Gojo Satoru calls you his north star, but he has not gone home in six years.
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i’m so nervous about this, oh my gosh, also thanks to @nanamis-baker and @hayakawalove for having a sneak peak and helping me out with this!
divider credits: @/benkeibear, @/saradika-graphics.
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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months
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Duel of Knowledge
Pairing: Uni Student!Coriolanus Snow x Uni Student!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: The Rival
Warning: academic rivalry, elitism, morally gray reader, greed, Dr. Gaul's laboratory, mentions of mutated animals, Capitol cruelty, nepotism, spoilers
Word Count: 2487
2 of 6
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It was a fresh start for Coriolanus Snow.  A life in the university, studying under Dr. Volumnia Gaul. 
After District 12.  He was a different man.  His purpose now was clearer, his actions more calculated, more dangerous.
Society welcomed him with open arms.  The star mentor, the academy protégé, and Crassus Snow’s legacy.
Life was also serving him well.  He no longer had to wear buttons made from the bathroom tiles.  No poisoned rats to dispose of.
Sejanus Plinth’s parents invite him for a luncheon on weekends.  He also met the president a couple of times because of the said couple.  Dr. Gaul has also been most helpful.
Had it not been for her, Coriolanus would still be rotting away in District 12.
The university was almost similar to the academy, only better.
He was with the same set of people he studied with.  Although, Clemensia Dovecot steers away from him now.  Two small scars from sharp fangs reminded her what happens when she crosses Coriolanus Snow.
The lessons are much more difficult than what was taught in the Academy but it was nothing he cannot conquer.  He was blessed with the most brilliant minds.
Connections made in the University are better too.  The people he meets are the ones who are currently the ones ruling the world.
The secrets he learns about them, invaluable.
Coriolanus understands the power that a piece of information can hold.
Information saved his tribute in the games.
Information nearly got him hanged.
Information nearly drove him mad.
There were all sorts of it.  Right, wrong.  It was up to you how you use it.  And use it well, he did.
And then, there was you.
The daughter of Thanatos Swansworth, a former associate of his late father.
He had gotten to know you as the girl who craved his attention and thirsted for his validation.
The last time he saw you, he knew he might have broken your heart.  You were just good at covering it up with your smiles.
And until today, he is seeing that exact same smile from across the room.
The air around you is different.  You are more mature, more sure of yourself.  You carry yourself with confidence like how a real Capitol woman does.
“While ethical implication might raise some concerns about the modified epigenetics, the boldness of the concept and the possibility of pioneering a breakthrough is reason enough to continue this research.  My study can advance the frontiers of science in a way that benefits humanity on a broader scale.”  You spoke calmly to Dr. Volumnia Gaul as she cross examined you for your research.
Coriolanus sat with his back resting against the chair, his calculating eyes watching your firm yet inviting demeanor.
A few more questions from Dr. Gaul did not make you falter, you managed to make every query an opportunity to showcase your work.  It was something that he can commend.
“Miss Swansworth, I would like you to come to my office later on to further discuss these ideas of yours.”  Dr. Gaul grins at you.
A glint of pride is visible in your eyes, making Coriolanus narrow his.
“Of course, Dr. Gaul.”
It seems he has competition for Dr. Gaul’s odd fascinations.
Coriolanus watches you return to your seat, his finger tapping atop his desk.
A focused look was plastered on Coriolanus’ face the entire day, he almost cannot wait to meet you by Dr. Gaul’s lab later.
When classes are over, he makes his way to the secured lab of Dr. Gaul.  The strong smell of formaldehyde greets his nose, he has come to get used to it.
His steps are long and purposeful but he was careful enough to silence his glide.
And he was glad he did.
He finds you crouched in a corner, your skirt touching the floor, you are too engrossed with a mutated animal that was trapped behind the glass.
“You found Thumper.”
The startled squeak you made had a sadistic smile spreading on Coriolanus’ lips. 
You glare up at him before standing up.  “Do not sneak up on me.”  You say coldly.  “Especially here.”
The mutated rabbit in front of you gives a jolt with the sound of your voice, its eyes trained on you.
“What did she do to it?”  You ask silently, looking at the mutated animal with chin slightly tipped higher.
Coriolanus stands next to you to eye the poor rabbit. 
Its once soft fur was replaced with a coarse beard-like iridescent coat.  Its paws were bigger with ears larger than normal, and its eyes, ghostly pale.
“Nothing.  The rabbit was exposed to the toxic aftermath of an outdoor experiment.  We had it captured in case it proved dangerous.”
“Is it?”  You ask, trying to maintain your indifference.
“Do you pity that mutt, Miss Swansworth?”
Both you and Coriolanus straighten your posture as Dr. Gaul saunters inside her lab.
“It simply piqued my curiosity.”  You respond carefully.
Coriolanus leaves your side to sit himself in a desk set off for him and your eyes squint at how he acts so casually in the place.
“That was a good presentation you gave earlier.”  Dr. Gaul says as she cuts open what you think is-...was a salamander.
“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.”  You try to not to sound too giddy, you must have failed as you hear a snicker from Coriolanus.
Her hand stills and she looks at you with those dangerous eyes of hers making you hold your breath.
“You mentioned earlier that your study can advance the frontiers of science and that humanity can benefit on a broader scale.”  She looks at you fully now.  “To whom are you referring to, with this…‘humanity’?”  She waves her blood red glove in the air as she asks.
The scratching of pen stills from Coriolanus’ desk and you match Dr. Gaul’s intense stare with yours.
“Who else but us, Dr. Gaul.  The outcomes of my research will contribute to the collective well-being of the Capitol.  Subsequently, the Districts can derive…some advantages from the positive outcomes we achieve.  We cannot reap the same rewards.”  You tilt your head to the side, looking at her coyly from under your eyelashes.  “Afterall, anyone who is not us is an enemy.”
Coriolanus looks up from his desk to eye you.  Dr. Gaul recognizes the look.  It was the same one Crassus Snow had when he married his wife, and the exact same when he submitted the idea he had stolen from Casca Highbottom.  Dr. Gaul only laughs as she resumes her work.
“Would you be interested in studying under me?”  She asks after calming down from her crazed outburst.  “I see potential in you, just like Mr. Snow.  I would love to watch the two of you rise to power.”
You glance at him from your shoulder and find him already looking at you with so much intensity.  You had your eyes on him as you uttered your next words.  “I would love to, Dr. Gaul.”  With much satisfaction, you watched his jaw tighten, bringing a sly smile to your lips.
Having to work after classes in the laboratory gave Coriolanus a chance to observe you.
You were very much like the person you were before he left, but ironically, also really different.
He recognizes the way your eyes narrow and how your hand finds your chin when you encounter a setback.  You also became really proper.  The smiles you gladly throw at everyone back in the academy are gone.  You attended the social events alone too, no longer following Coriolanus around to get him to ask you to come as his date.
There was also the swarm of boys he loathed.
You did not entertain them of course, kindly declining their invites for coffees and luncheons.
“You seem awfully popular with the male population of the Capitol.”
The comment did not stop your movements, not even for a second.  The decadent caramel tart was far too good to waste a moment.
“Mmh, it appears so.”  You reply to Corioalanus who seated himself in front of you at your table.  You preferred having lunch alone, it gave you time to think.  But apparently, that was too much to ask.
You saw this a mile away.  He was coming to talk to you sooner than later, and here he is.  His caramel tart ignored as the polished man found you more interesting.
Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you reach for your coffee as you locked eyes with him.  Almost taunting him to say something about it.
Now, with his slicked back platinum hair, tight jaw, and eyes so cold and calculating.  He looks every bit like his father.
“Is that all you are here for? To talk about my suitors?”  You lean back in your chair, careful to keep your posture straight.
Certainly, that is not all he is here for.  You have witnessed this all around you, even back in the academy.  Protégés sizing up their enemies and rooting out possible competition.  It was not your fault Dr. Gaul was interested in how your mind works, although you have to be responsible for your mischievous glances after you win an argument against him.
Winning arguments, if only you knew how much he was holding back, to save you the embarrassment, to not scare you away with his twisted arguments.
He is letting you go as you please, letting you think you are winning, it would be far more rewarding when he steals the prize right before your eyes.
Coriolanus wonders if he can get you to cry.
“No.”  He grins charmingly, making your blood freeze.  “The Plinths invited me to golf this Sunday.  They asked me to bring a friend.”
Your eyes dart all around his face, trying to search for something that would give him away.
“What are you playing at?”  You spoke slowly.
Coriolanus only laughs heartily, a hand placed over his chest in feign hurt.  “You wound me.  I simply wanted to catch up.  Afterall…”  His eyes dart to the family crest pinned on your chest, his eyes suddenly darkening, smile sharpening dangerously as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.  “We’re childhood friends, aren’t we?”
He can be very persuasive. 
Especially those eyes of his.
You heave a sigh and gently bring your cup to your lips, taking your time to sip. 
“Alright.”
“Perfect.”  He beams brightly.  There is something awfully unsettling about it.
Coriolanus Snow finds your distrustful nature inviting.  You are right to be wary of him. 
Sunday comes faster than you would have appreciated. 
The Plinths were very kind people.  Partly because they oh so wanted to be accepted in the Capitol. 
You are leaning on the golf cart, arms folded as you watch Coriolanus laugh with Sejanus Plinth’s parents.
Your thinking posture returns as you observe them.  Back in the academy, you do not recall Coriolanus and Sejanus to be very close.  They were acquaintances, yes.  Nothing beyond that.  In retrospect, Sejanus was a really lonely kid.  Everybody loved his money but friendship with him was something the Capitol kids never crossed.  The kindness Coriolanus showed him, he must have mistaken it for bond.
Poor Sejanus.
“Y/N.”  Mrs. Plinth calls you over and you fix your sunglasses back on and you head their way.
“Sorry, needed to cool off a bit.”  You smile at them.
“Oh, of course.  Would you like some refreshments?”  She asked, worried.  You smile at her, watching closely if this is real or not.  It might be.
Coriolanus swings his club and sends the ball flying to the cup.
Mr. Plinth slaps his back showering the young boy with compliments.
You are unaware that it was you who is being watched now.
“It has been difficult for my husband and I.”  Mrs. Plinth says softly as she guides you under the shade and pours you a tall glass of lemonade.
You thank her but are not letting your guard down for whatever she may spring at you.
“Our son is gone but that boy.”  She smiles in the direction of Coriolanus.  “Our son loved him like a brother.  It may be selfish on my part but I see my boy in him.”
You drop your head, watching your reflection in the lemonade.
“And he has the Plinths’ full support for his endeavors.”
This catches your attention and the woman smiles at your expression.
“In every victory Panem has, there is always a Snow behind it.”  She raises her chin to gauge your reaction.  “And a Swansworth to help them see it through.”
You tip your own chin up and watch Coriolanus do a perfect swing.
“And so there is.”  You give her a sly smile and she returns it with her own.
You might have just met an ally.
The day ends and you cannot be upset with how it turned out.
“In a better mood, are we?”  Coriolanus says cooly, lips tugging up to one side.
You shrug as you both enter the building where you both live.  “Mrs. Plinth is not an awful company.”  A playful smile is also thrown his way.  “I also enjoyed the view.”
There it is.
“Oh, you did, didn’t you?”  He stops you dead on your tracks, preventing you from getting in the elevator.
You did not let his height be a great advantage as you met him with a proud smile.  “The golf course, I mean.”
“Indeed, the golf course.”  He nods as he looks down at you, a smirk tugging on his lips.  “The golf course with its blistering heat and dry wind, that golf course.”
“Exactly.”  You smile sardonically.  “Now, if you don’t mind, I must get to my apartment.”
He lets you inside the elevator and he follows closely.
You stand next to him in silence as the elevator ascends.
A couple of times, your gazes meet in your reflection.
“I’m running as president.”
You sigh as your back meets the cold elevator wall.
“I know.”
He looks at you now, arm leaning on the handrail.
“I want you with me.”
You roll your eyes, arms crossing.
“I was afraid you’d ask.”
He chuckles lowly.
For a moment, only the soft whirring of the elevator accompanied by the classical tune playing was the only noise filling the space.
“Forgive me.”  He finally says.
It is long overdue but you appreciate it still.
“There is nothing to forgive.”
The elevator dings and you get off.  He walks you to your apartment. 
“Good night, Y/N Swansworth.”
“Good night, Coriolanus Snow.”
And you gently close the door, your eye contact never breaking until all you see is the hardwood door.
You stand there for a long time, contemplating.  Your apartment is cold and empty but the lights from Capitol reflect inside your apartment, casting a soft glow in your family portrait and you look at your father in the eyes.
“Snow will land on top.”
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Hunt for Glory
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hypnoneghoul · 11 days
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Sundown: Chapter 6
WC: 1,1K
Relationship: SwissAlps
Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain,Transfeminine Mountain, Angst, Lies, Identity Reveal, Heartbreak, Hurt no Comfort (in this chapter)
“No,” Mounty gasps, finally realizing. He scared her. “Swiss, no, that’s not–it can’t be–”
Read chapter 1 here or on AO3.
Read chapter 6 under the cut or on AO3.
It took five months for Swiss’ past to catch up to him.
He knew it would—sooner rather than later, knowing his luck—but he really thought he would have more time to…come up with a plan. Anything, he would do anything to avoid more heartbreak, he had promised himself. And yet he failed at a simple task of being honest.
Life just never seems to have any mercy in store for him, so why would he even have hope?
It’s a busy evening in Mounty’s bar; it’s warm—the most important reason—but the word cozy also comes to mind. Even despite the spiderwebs, broken furniture and a distant smell of rotten wood. There are flowers, though, all year long, so very clearly Mounty’s touch. It’s her home and she loves it as it is—which makes Swiss love it, too—and such an atmosphere is inviting.
The cowboy is, as usual, hanging out by the bar, watching his girl work. She’s happy, he’s happy and it’s all good, until he hears a name he has been praying for months not to hear ever again.
“He ain’t so scary anymore!” a man from the other side of the bar laughs, and the people surrounding him follow. “He was a cunt, no idea where he got all that reputation from. The mighty Shadow nearly pissed himself!”
Another wave of booming laughter sounds and it hurts Swiss’ eardrums. He tenses, hands going clammy around the glass he’s holding, and listens in, despite his better judgment.
“He’s been hiding like a coward for months after that one failed heist, from what I’ve heard,” the man continues. “Snatched a chance when he peaked his ugly head out and now the bitch is done!”
Swiss’ blood boils and freezes in his veins at the same time. Mounty doesn’t notice; she’s too busy, and the man is grateful. The stranger in the corner keeps laughing with his companions as he insults the infamous Shadow and gloats about something he most definitely didn’t do.
Of course he didn’t.
Swiss doesn’t know what makes him snap. He only notices that he stood up when he feels the pulse of a man he’s holding against the wall by his neck under his hand.
“Swiss!” he hears Mounty call from behind the bar. The whole place is so quiet all of a sudden. “Let him go!”
The cowboy chokes the stranger slowly for a bit longer, staring into his terrified eyes. If he…if he actually were to finish off the Shadow, he would be the one to piss himself. He is about to prove it.
“You’re the cunt here,” he mutters before letting go.
Swiss storms off without sparing a glance in anyone’s direction again, not even Mounty. He all but runs out of the saloon and behind it, into the cold and dark where he sits on the wet ground and hangs his head. His eyes sting and he wants to just cry, but he can’t. He ran out of tears a long time ago.
He hears the squeak of the saloon’s batwing door and the shuffle of its additional covering that they have put on for the cold nights and he prays to anyone who’s willing to listen that it’s not–
“Swiss, darling,” Mounty whispers and the tone of it the–the fear in it breaks the man’s heart in half. He scared her. 
He scared her.
He doesn’t reply, he can’t speak; it’s like there’s something lodged in his throat. Shame, most likely.
Despite her visible apprehension, the barmaid comes closer. She crouches by Swiss and just…waits. She waits for whatever may happen and she looks determined to do so for however long it may take.
He scared her.
Swiss simply breathes for a while before he dares to open his mouth again, “The–the Shadow. What do you know about…him?”
“Just the rumors,” Mounty shrugs, doing her very best to seem unbothered; casual about the whole ordeal, “but I don’t think I’d like to meet him. That won’t be a problem, though, ‘cause apparently he’s dead. Nobody’s seen him or heard of him for months and that man that you just…”
“He’s not dead,” Swiss interrupts—too sharp, too loud. He immediately hates himself for it, even more than he already did. 
He scared her.
“How do you know?” she asks, much quieter.
The man swallows audibly against that mysterious something that’s suffocating him, “How many months do you think it’s been since…since he was last seen?”
“Hm…” The barmaid thinks for a moment, counting silently. “Something like five, probably. 
Swiss chuckles sadly, locking his eyes on Mounty’s. He doesn’t speak—doesn’t explain—but he doesn’t need to. She’s a smart girl, and the sorrow, regret and shame in Swiss’ eyes are speaking louder and clearer than he ever could.
“No,” Mounty gasps, finally realizing.
He scared her.
“Swiss, no, that’s not–it can’t be–”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” is all he can say. He should have so much more to say, beg for forgiveness, but he can’t. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, that this is simply too big.
He gives up.
Mounty’s thoughts are racing, her breathing picks up, and her eyes widen. She’s an image of pure horror as she connects more and more dots. Swiss feels like throwing up.
“I’ve been…for months I’ve been dating–I’ve been sleeping with the world’s most famous criminal, I’ve–I’ve been…” she rambles, more to herself than the man. His whole body hurts. “I’m–I’m in love with the world’s most famous murderer.”
He scared her.
“Sweetheart, please, just–just hear me out, gimme a chance to explain before…” before he leaves, he wanted to say, because there is nothing else that can be done. He has to get the fuck out and away from her, from the most precious creature on the entire planet. One that he stained with his touch, with his lies. No hands that have so much blood on them should ever be allowed to touch something as pure as Mounty.
Thankfully, she doesn’t let him finish, “Explain what? That you lied to me and put on a whole ass fake personality to just…to just what, exactly?”
“It’s not like that, I just–” Swiss tires, but he’s not sure what it is that he’s trying to do. “I was running away! The Shadow…me, I–it’s not me, Mounty, please, let me–”
He scared her.
“Maybe I will,” she spits. “But certainly not now.”
“Momo, please,” the man falters and he’s about to fall to his knees and grab onto the barmaid’s feet and beg when she moves away. “Please, don’t be scared of me.”
“Too late, Shadow.” Mounty leaves him there, out in the cold darkness.
And Swiss finally cries.
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anki-of-beleriand · 3 days
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A heart Made of Glass ch. 13
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Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.
Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.
Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.
Oh, I am back and this chapter is a wrap-up for the confrontation between Reader and Wanda. They had been given a moment of solitude before going back to their own reality, can they really get past through everyting that happened to them in the past?
Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chpter 12 - Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Can we change the past?
You never imagined this ordeal would end in the way it did.
The universe you left behind came crumbling down under the weight of its own shaky foundations, it became a cold unfitting world that disappear the moment you and the others touched the land of another Universe.
Everything was kind of blurry from the on.
You knew Wanda was taken away, and soon after you were also being carried to a room in which you lost consciousness after your body finally gave up. Your mind didn’t have the time to think about what had happened or what would happen after you were completely recover. You let things happened, and in that time you gave yourself to a blissful mindfulness in which you knew, sooner or later, you would need to face everything you had been running from.
It soon became evident that time was running out, with people coming in and out of your room checking over your physical and mental well-being before asking uneasy questions. Sometimes you would evade those questions, and some others you would give vague answers that would tell the others you were no fool.
You stretched out grasping thin air in your fist, tilting your head you started making a small sequence of Tai Chi you had learnt from Yelena. After more than a week of being in the hospital, you were finally able to feel your body as yours again. Your muscles flexed, and the shadows under your feet stirred with the silent command of your thoughts. You smiled glancing at your reflection through the window, everything was working just fine and you knew you were ready to go back home.
The door behind you cracked, and the knob turned to the left revealing the single figure of Doctor Jean Grey. The woman was beautiful, and her smile was infectious always putting your mind at ease.
“Hello, Y/N, how are you this morning?”
“Doc, I’m doing better now, thank you.” You spined around slowly, the shadows wavering around until they covered your feet, your smile grew cocking your head to follow the lead of your left arm then your right one.
“I certainly felt much better now.”
“I can see that.” The woman smile stepping closer to your bed while placing a single file on the breakfast table.
“Tell me you cam here with good news.”
Jean offered a single smile while taking a seat, she sat waiting for you to settle down on the bed. The room soon filled with silence that was only broken by the busy morning routine right outside your room. You had learnt your room was in one of the busiest wings in the hospital back in the Tower. Wanda had not been that lucky, though.
“Well, I do come with news, if they are good or not depend entirely on you.” Jean could see the change in you, even through the easy smile you wore the young doctor could see you were being overly cautious.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
Doctor Jean Gray sauntered inside the room with a light blush on her cheeks. Her eyes twinkling merrily glancing at the chart in her hands before settling then on you.
For some reason, the reaction of the woman made you squirm uncomfortably. You had been in this universe for two days now, but it wasn't until now that you were forced to go inside the examination room and get yourself a quick check-up. It was quite evident that in this world mutants and superpowered individuals were treated differently, and the rules governing each one of them were set to get control on the population. 
“You seemed rather chirp today, Doc, good news for you or me?”
Jean chuckled, placing the chart on the bed before putting a chair close to the bed.
“It's my anniversary, and I received quite the news today.” She stated tilting her head, you smiled back at her.
“Congratulations, then.” 
Jean nodded, putting a strand of hair out of her face, “thank you.”
“So that would be for you, what about me?” You finally asked leaning forward, your eyes drifting to the chart in your bed.
“Everything seems to be okay.”
“But…?” You arched a brow when Jean leaned back on the chair offering a serious facade.
“You had been quite silent in the last couple of days, keeping yourself out of everyone's way and most importantly,” here Jean stopped as if measuring her words, “your avoidance of your particular predicament has raised some concerns on our end.”
Silence followed such a declaration, you dared to lock eyes with the woman sitting in front of you well-aware of her ability to read beyond your initial thoughts. Jean didn't move nor did she give any indication of breaking into small talk, I stead she seemed to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak.
“I’m not sure I want to have this conversation.” You sighed, lifting a hand to the back of your head, scratching the nape of your neck. “But I guess it is inevitable.”
“It is.” Jean softened her features, grabbing the file she left on your bed, she opened it in a single page while presenting the form to you.
“How…how is she?” Your voice was above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jean to hear it.
The woman leaned back letting you read the file while she started talking. 
“She is doing better now, trying to recover her magical core had been quite the challenge but our own team of witches and healers had come together to help around.” 
There was nothing much you could do but nod, your eyes drifted to the file with your thoughts trying to focus on a single issue at a time. Ever since the five of you got to that universe everything had been but a blur; your Wanda was taken straight to the hospital and she had been looked after Tony's team back in the Avengers Tower. 
“That's good.”
“I just want to do one last check-up before clearing you up, America has been waiting for you and the twins are very excited as well.” Jean chuckled, standing up making her way to the closest drawer and putting some surgical gloves out. “They seemed to think that having a pair of moms at their disposal would give them some kind of advantage in their mischief.”
You tried to hide your expression from the other woman, but it was inevitable. Jean offered a sympathetic smile while getting to work. 
“They are just children…” you mumbled feeling your body warm up, your muscles twitching just as Jean started testing your reflex. “I don't think they understand that much.”
“Mm, you would be surprised how much Billy and Tommy understand about the situation.” Jean leaned back, lifting her left hand and letting it hover right on top of your forehead. “They are pretty smart, and sensitive.”
You pressed your lips together not wanting to go into a discussion. Not that you could raise any arguments against that statement, you had noticed just how sensitive they were and how smart they were. They had come that first time into your room calling you mom without a care in the world, telling you about their day while also making you aware of how they had sneaked in to see you and Wanda.
Your counterpart had been amused by your reaction, while her Wanda had been just a tad bit concerned about the confusion the whole situation could create in the children. 
“If I were to be honest, you look more confused than them.”
“You told me you don't read minds unless you have permission.” You replied furrowing your brows, Jean had the sense of looking embarrassed but never lost her smile when looking back at you.
“You kind of scream that thought at me, sometimes it is inevitable.”
Jean then leaned back, grabbing your file and writing some notes down. 
“I think you're ready to go.” Jean cocked her head when the first thing you did was jump down the bed and go to the closest chair holding your clothes. “But Wanda…”
You winced, grabbing your clothes tightly before turning around, this time around Jean was looking serious, her eyes gleaming lightly.
“What about Wanda?”
The silence grew around the both of you, your body was already tensing the muscles you would need to run. Jean opened her mouth only to close it again as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it. 
“I think you should visit her, it can make a difference in her recovery.”
At the end of the day, this last visit from Jean Grey was just that, another attempt from these people to go to Wanda and make sure she was okay. For you to stop running and face her taking ownership of what would happen next.
It was complicated.
And you were unsure as to how to proceed or what was expected of you.
“Look, I just…”
“MOM!!!!”
Not sooner had you heard such a scream, you found yourself being tackled by a pair of bouncing kids. Your heart skipped a beat with your arms lifted at your shoulders height while the kids had their faces up to look at you with toothy grins. They were quite adorable, and in reality a part of you seemed to just instantly loved them, noticing the likeness they had to Wanda and yourself.
“Okay, guys let’s back up a little, remember what we talked to you about?” 
The room was suddenly very crowded, your counterpart came right in followed by America and Pietro. It became quite apparent that everyone was waiting for Jean to finish her last check-up on you before getting into the room and see how you were doing. You placed your hands on the twin’s heads ruffling their hair playfully while offering a tentative smile. 
“That’s okay, I’m getting used to the enthusiastic greeting.”
“And them calling you mom?” Pietro inquired, quaking his brow while placing his hands in his pockets.
You couldn’t help the little wince, recoiling from the comment with your body turning to the chair and grabbing your clothes once more. Billy and Tommy glanced at one another, with Billy opening his eyes really big while making a gesture with his head. 
“Anyway, I’m just glad to know your good to go, because I was thinking we can go right ahead and get a look around and perhaps…” America started babbling making her way to your bed.
You nodded absentmindedly, your attention drifting for a moment to your counterpart and Jean that had decided to step out of the room to have a small conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on, and what they were discussing with your thoughts going over and over to the woman that was still unconscious somewhere inside the building. 
Everything was strange in this universe. 
A part of you knew that sooner or later the conversation of Wanda and you going back to your respective reality would come; but it was quite evident everyone was waiting for the right moment to intervene and perhaps get something done. 
“Well, I think you better change so we can get out of here,” Pietro broke your line of thoughts, his eyes gleaming mischievously with his lips curling into a familiar expression. “Billy and Tommy prepare something for you, and I bet you are dying to eat something that isn’t hospital food.”
“You are completely right on that one, I’m going to change and then…you guys can show me a good time.”
You offered a tentative smile, your heart dropping for a moment when the twins cheered babbling non-stop to America and Pietro. For a brief moment you wondered…
…was this what you were missing back home?
_______________
You had been welcomed inside the household of your counterpart. 
This time around, the guest room had been prepared and you could enjoy the joys of a soft bed and a nice view of the backyard while trying to get some sleep. The day had been quite unexpected, with the twins and America being active participants in different forms of conversations and different sets of games and rambles that you were not prepared to share with these people.
You had tried to get away from it, but Billy and Tommy were very adamant on having you close and including you in every single moment of their afternoon. You didn’t fight too hard to not be there, though. After a while you realised Wanda would not be joining the family outing and actually your counterpart ended up being just a good source of geek material that differed from the one you had in your own world. 
Not for a single moment did anyone mention the white elephant in the room.
And for that you were quite grateful.
But now, in the middle of the night with the stars twinkling above your head and everyone sleeping in the house you couldn't help but think about it. Time was running out, sooner or later you would need to go back and face the consequences of what happened back in Norway and in that other universe. 
Sooner or later you would need to face Wanda once more.
“It is pretty late for you to be thinking so loud.” 
You kept your attention on the stars, the room was completely dark which was one of the reasons as to why you knew she had come home already. The young woman took a few steps forward until she was standing beside you, her face turned to the sky with her arms hugging her tightly.
“I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged leaning against the wall, your head tilted to the side. “It was quite an exciting day, I think I’m still in a sugar rush.”
Wanda chuckled, lowering her head, her eyes gleaming lightly, turning her attention to you.
“So I heard. The twins really took you everywhere and made sure you taste everything back in the restaurant, didn’t they?”
Your face fell when the memories of that day came back, the twins had never left your side while telling you stories about their adventures. Not for a single moment did they think or even entertained the idea of them not being part of your life in your other world. For them it had been natural to make sure that you and Wanda did not forget about them. That was one of the reasons why it had been a shock for them to find out you and they didn’t know about that restaurant.
“You should tell our other selves about this place, mom! I know they will love it!”
“Yeah, we love it, and you love bringing us here!”
It still burnt that this life was not yours, but there was nothing you could do. 
Wanda could read your thoughts; she could sense your pain and it was something she couldn’t take. Not with you. Wanda dropped her arms, stepping closer to you. Her hand felt warm on your face, brushing away your hair and mapping out the form of your jaw. It was so unexpected you couldn’t help but freeze in place the tension evident in the contraction of your muscles, your left foot stepping back and stopping waiting for the other foot to join. It didn’t happen, though, you stood there waiting for something else to happen. 
“They are good kids.” Your voice trembled at the very end of that sentence, but your eyes never waver in their hold of those green irises.
“They are. They are very much your children as much as they are mine.” Wanda offered a timid smile that soon vanished, whatever hold she had on you broke and the young woman turned around as if ready to leave. 
The tension in your body didn’t leave, and your mind was poking at you uncomfortably pressing over for you to speak. To say something, to ask the question you were dying to ask but didn’t dare to do so. It looked as if nothing else was going to be said that day, as if nothing else was going to happen and you were trying to get a hold of your beating heart when Wanda stopped by the door turning to the side and locking her eyes with yours.
“You will need to face her sooner or later, Y/N.” Wanda let her words sink in, her eyes softening lightly when she could sense the conflict inside of you. 
“Do I have to?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda lifted her shoulder stepping back. 
“I think you know the answer to that question,” she stated letting out a tired yawn, “what you really need to ask yourself, though is what would happen if that confrontation doesn’t come the way you expect it to be? What if it becomes everything you thought impossible with her? Are you ready to face that conversation? Are you ready to make a decision for you and her?”
You hated the fact this Wanda was so insightful and you hated even more that she was right. That was the real reason as to why you couldn’t sleep, as to why you were trying to bury your emotions and your memories, while also running away from what you were experimenting with. Of the changes that had come knocking on your door all those months ago.
“Have a good night, Y/N, rest and follow your instincts on this one because they…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, and it was you the one to finish it.
“They had never failed me.”
There was a flash of a smile and then Wanda left, closing the door behind her. 
___________________
But trying to follow your instincts was easier said than done.
A part of you knew the meeting was inevitable, after all, the both of you needed to go back to your respective Universe and this would never happen if you two kept on avoiding one another. But then, there was another part, the one you had been carrying with you for far too long, that was afraid of a confrontation that might broke your heart all over again.  
You played with time for as long as you could, taking advantage of Tony’s curiosity and Loki’s infinite questions. You became very helpful of Wong and Hank’s questions, and you couldn’t help but give in the twin’s whims every night before going to bed. Nevertheless, you had the days count on that universe, and it wasn’t as if you really wished to stay. You missed home, and you missed your friends and family; but the final step to get everything ready to go back was something you had never felt ready to do.
On the fifth morning you woke up on a guest room, you knew you couldn't run anymore. America had finished her breakfast and Y/N was reading the paper, no one did or said anything for a moment until you sat at the table with the coffee warming up the mug in your hands.
“Wanda is fully recovered.” Your counterpart stated, never leaving her eyes from the page she was reading, “she is confused, a little weak but ready to talk and go back home.”
“Talk?” You asked a little harsher than you were meant to.
Y/N lifted a single brow, her lips pursing tightly.
“With you.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but a kick on your leg made you stop. America was glaring at you, her head shaking slightly opening her eyes and glancing meaningfully at your counterpart.
“I know, I just…”
Y/N sighed, closing the paper and placing it slowly on the counter. Her eyes pierced you with a gaze filled with emotion, you shifted on the chair trying to look away but unable to do so.
“Whether you want it or not, you will need to have this confrontation. Whatever you are afraid of facing…I think you should get your shit together and face it right away. You are running out of time, and excuses.”
Your counterpart finished her tirade with a slap to the table, shaking her head as she stood up and left the kitchen. You cocked your head until you found America glancing at you.
“I guess there is no running from this, is it?”
America shrugged, biting her lower lip, “I guess not.”
You lowered your eyes to the counter before lifting them to ensure America was paying attention to you.
“Once this is over, are you staying or are you coming back with us?” The question caught her off of guard, America was looking shocked and her mouth tried to form a specific thought but was unable to respond right away.
You chuckled standing up, your hand on her shoulder.
“You would be more than welcome back home, but I know you missed this place greatly.” You squeezed her shoulder before walking away, a single wall of dark shadows spreading before you. “Think about it, America, I'll be back in a few hours and we will talk about me and Wanda going back home.”
“I will think about it.” America mumbled offering a half smile. “Good luck.”
You winked at her trying to show more confidence than you actually felt before crossing over the shadows and disappearing into them. The trip was short, with the shadows embracing you with a cold hold leading through the space until you stepped inside a dimly lit hall.
The place was completely silent, though you could make out the sound of chatter in the distance. You lowered your gaze to the floor, our ears twitching lightly ignoring the rest of the sounds and focusing on your heartbeat.
The last couple of months have been a complete rollercoaster for you. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that Wanda would show at your doorstep with a young woman asking for help. For a very long time, you had put in the back of your mind the confrontation with Wanda. A part of you knew it would come, eventually. But you never intended to be the one to take the first step for the meeting to happen.
When you got to see Wanda face to face, and actually talk to her, your world came crumbling down around you. The barriers you had built around your heart and mind ended up not being as strong and resilient as thought them to be. Your heart still missed a beat at the sound of her laughter, and your hardened façade went away as soon as you saw the suffering and the heartbreak in those green eyes.
Wanda would always be one of your greatest weaknesses. 
And you hated yourself for that.
It was as if your own suffering didn't matter, as long as Wanda was fine and didn't have to feel what you felt. Yet you refused to believe her words or even offer forgiveness for the wrong doings in the past. All of this came crashing down in a single meeting, all the doubts and pain came back, but also the yearning and the confusion you were threatening to overwhelm you and leave you without a way out. 
You took a deep breath, your hand running through your hair helping your uneasiness. You closed for a brief moment, and your mind went blank emptying any thoughts that might come in and make you falter in your actions. The last couple of days, and actually the last couple of months, you had thought about this moment; you had given yourself and her a chance to step aside and let the past in the past and for the both of you ready to face the present without thinking too much about the future.
The room was in complete darkness, the lights were out and the curtains were still closed. You could hear the monitor in the corner, the bed occupied the left side of the room leaving a big sofa and a couple of chairs on the right. Hanging from the wall you could see the TV that was huge enough to almost cover the wall, the only thing that prevented this from happening was the side door leading to the bathroom. Tony was really into luxury, you closed the door behind you a little unsure on how to proceed.
The tension around the room only increased when you felt a pair of eyes on you. It didn't take too long for you to know who it was, you stepped forward making your way to the curtains. 
“Would you mind if I open them up? I prefer the natural light of the day instead of the artificial ones.” You turned lightly, finally locking your eyes with those of Wanda.
Your Wanda.
“That's fine.” She replied, her voice was but a whisper but you could get the strong laced tone that Scarlet used whenever she talked to you.
The room changed under the light of the day, while there was not much sun the sky was cloudless and the position of the tower as well as the floor you two were currently in allowed for the perfect setting for natural light. You glanced around a city that was familiar yet strange, the weight of that stare didn't leave you, not even when you finally turned around to lock eyes with her.
“You look fine.” Wanda lowered her chin, her fingers twitching on top of the bed wanting to do or say something else but unsure where her relationship with you stood at the moment.
“I wasn't that badly injured, but I think I did need the rest.” You took a step forward, then another until you were actually standing beside Wanda.
Wanda hesitated for a moment before moving to the left, she chewed on her lower lip before patting the spot on the bed.
“You can sit here, if … if you want, there is also a chair and…” whatever else Wanda was going to say was cut off by you taking her initial offer of sitting on the bed.
Wanda felt her heart do somersaults, her body tingling at your closeness and the little voice she had come to recognize as Scarlet’s whispering to her telling her to close the distance, to grab your hand, to not let you go. But she held back knowing that her position was precarious at best and whatever you had come to discuss with her needed to be addressed first. 
“How are you?” You fixed your position on the bed, well aware that the only thing you needed was to lower your arm and your hand would be touching Wanda's one. 
“I'm better now, a little sore and getting use to…” here Wanda trailed off with her brows creasing a little, “to be complete, I guess. It's difficult, but I think I am ready.”
Her words held a decisive tone, but her eyes were flashing the doubts running inside her mind. You realised right there and then that nothing much had changed in the last couple of years, there were things you could still read about her. 
“Ready for what?” You asked quietly, Wanda sighed shrugging.
“Going back.” She replied simply. “Getting out of your way, out of your life…I did promise you after all of this was over I wouldn't bother you any more…”
Her words stung your heart, spreading an electrifying pain all through your body until it hit your brain. You didn't understand why, exactly. That had been the deal, to help her out and then get her out of your life. Then, if you knew what was going to happen, how it would end, why were you having these doubts? Why did it hurt?
Wanda was in her own thoughts, a part of her she had tried to suppress, the one she tried to deny stirred in anger. Wanda wanted to speak out, to tell you she didn't want to go and that she certainly didn't want to pretend nothing had happened in the last couple of months. That seeing you had been one of her greatest joys in life, but it had also brought pain and sadness, that being in this universe seeing the twins and facing what could have been…
Without really noticing, tears started falling rolling down her cheeks while her heart shrank with the weight of her emotions. Wanda refused to give in, her fists closing tightly and her tears breaking her composure and without really wanting to she finally broke in front of you.
You observed the full process, the way her face changed and the tears pilling up her eyes. Wanda was trying to bottle up whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking. It was so easy to ignore everything the other woman was experiencing; it was easy to hold onto your shared past. 
But this was Wanda.
And you couldn't ignore her. That was the reason why you had to disappear after the breakup.
With a tentative touch, you let your hand fall on top of hers. Your thumb drew circles before leaning in and wrapping her in a hug. Wanda held onto you, her sobs filling the room while her hands tried to grasp your clothes. You didn't say anything, but for some reason you could feel it.
The apology you never allowed her to share with you. The broken heart she had been wearing ever since that day. 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”
Wanda cried and once she started she couldn't stop. Fixing your position on the bed you made sure she was comfortably resting her weight on your left side, putting comforting arms around her while soothing her body with sweet caresses you had dared to make in anyone but her.
Whatever conversation you were meant to have with her, whatever it was you had come to talk to her about soon crumbled under the pressure of her tears and your own feelings for her. 
And just like that, you knew you couldn't let her go.
Not without a real conversation.
And not without a fight.
______________________
Wanda was not completely sure when she fell asleep, but right now she was completely aware of being awake resting on top of you with the warmth and comfort of your presence soothing her soul.
Her body tensed right away, though soon she relaxed into the embrace having noticed your even breathing and the relaxed posture of your body. You had fallen asleep as well and, at some point the both of you had ended up sharing the small hospital bed without anyone coming over to interrupt that moment.
Wanda nuzzled her face against your neck, she wished this was something she would share with you every day. How she had missed waking up in your arms, to see your smile in the mornings and your hyperactive body demand for the morning routine. Everything was so messed up, and she didn't know when she allowed her world to crumble into nothingness.
Her heart trembled with emotion, and her thoughts formed an idea Wanda knew was not completely hers but a figment of Scarlet. 
You have to fight back! You need to get her back! You need to tell her everything we discovered! Everything we know!
Her voice was demanding, yet it held a hint of desperation that Wanda was familiar with. It was the same voice she had woken up to back in the battlefield after the snap, the same one she had heard countless of times whenever she thought about you or a way to recover her life. Everything had been so complicated, yet it could had been so easy to recover her life to actually try to make a change and reconcile with everyone.
There were no more tears in her eyes, and the sadness and sorrow she had lived with all her life was a burden she was tired to carry with her. With some reluctance, Wanda let go of you stirring in the bed while trying to be careful in her movements, she missed your closeness and the warm that your body had provided but it was time for her to stand up.
You need to fight for her, you cannot lose her. Not again.
The voice echoed inside her head, and Wanda knew this time around she couldn’t allow her fears to stop her from at least getting a chance to be your friend. With that thought in mind, Wanda stood on weakened feet gathering her strength before walking towards the closes wardrobe and grabbing some clothes. She gave you one last glance before making her way to the bathroom, she would need to get ready for what would come next.
It was the cold what wake you up.
The cold and the fact you missed the weight of someone resting on your left side, you sighed blinking owlishly while patting the side of the bed where you were pretty sure your companion had been resting. In those glorious moments between being awake and asleep, you were trying to grasp the reality of the woman you had been holding. Your memory groggily moving through the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin and then…
You remembered.
Wanda had been crying, you had held her, you had fallen asleep…
You stood up so fast that you fell of the bed hitting your head against the night table, while hitting your ass on the ground.
“Ugh, fuck…”
“Are you…are you alright? What…did you fall off the bed?”
You wished you could hide, but instead of that you lifted your face to see Wanda standing by the bed trying to hold back her laughter just as her eyes gleamed with worry. You could sense the blush forming on your cheeks, while your whole body seemed to protest under the pain of the hits you got when falling.
“I…yes, I just…woke up too fast and…I fell off the bed.”
That was all that Wanda needed to start laughing, she couldn’t help herself. She had seen you woke up and then lose all control while getting your feet entangled on the sheets and falling on your ass. It had been funny, and the fact that you now looked all embarrassed and were pouting made for the scene not only something funny but quite adorable.
You huffed trying to stand up, rolling your eyes while the other woman held against the bed trying to control her laughter.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, little witch…” the nickname slipped your lips without giving it a second thought. That made the laughter died and once more the room was filled with a tension neither one of you were ready to maintain.
“I’m sorry it’s just…your face, and the way you fell, so full of grace…”
“I bet.” You rolled your eyes trying to check your head and body before settling your eyes on Wanda.
The young woman had put on some jeans and a white blouse, while her hair was still wet after the bath. You furrowed your brows looking away while catching the time on the clock on the wall. It was almost midday, which would explain why you were so hungry all of a sudden.
“I guess you really are feeling better.”
Wanda bounced lightly checking her hands and body, she wouldn’t say she felt better but she certainly was tired of being in bed while letting everyone come in and out to check her over. This world had a peculiar way to treat people with powers and having so many people with magical abilities come in and check her magical core had been extenuating and rather uncomfortable. The only time she had felt at ease had been with her counterpart, and that had been a whole different situation.
“I just need to get out of here.” Wanda finally revealed offering a half smile, “I heard from one of the nurses they have a nice restaurant right across the street, it has sandwiches and pizza…perhaps…”
You blinked a couple of times at the suggestion, your hand went right away to your pocket and your wallet. You hope the money you carried with you had some sort of value on this place, with a shrugged you nodded your agreement.
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, then.”
Wanda couldn’t hide her smile at the acceptance, she turned around and grabbing a jacket dragged you out of the room making her way directly to the elevator at the end of the hall. None of them noticed the camera watching their every move or the shadowy figure hidden in a close-by room. Your counterpart smirked shaking her head, she owed her wife a nice dinner. Wanda had always been right. Always.
In the security room, Wanda Maximoff allowed a tiny smile on her face, she lifted her stare to Tony and Loki, both of them shook their heads still slightly confused about the interaction.
“Now, what?” Tony finally asked staring at Wanda then at Loki.
“Now, we wait.” Loki replied waving away his hand. “For now, I think they are right, I’m starving and you ought to feed us, Stark.”
“Why is it always my responsibility?”
“You’re the one with money.” Loki replied ignoring the indignant huff coming from the older man, and the amused chuckled from Wanda.
_________________________
The restaurant was almost empty.
There were a few empty tables in the back, the one you chose was perfect for a nice conversation by hiding you two away from imprudent ears. The place was cosy, with decorations of blue and green creating a magical atmosphere with the dim lights around the establishment and the sweet aroma of spices that made you remembered home. You sat down facing Wanda who was looking troubled at the moment.
The waitress dedicated you a timid smile while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Welcome to the Sandwich Emporium, what can I get you today?” Her question was directed at you, and her eyes never even bothered to look away as you grabbed the menu she was offering.
“I’m not sure, what do you recommend?” You glanced at the menu then back at Wanda, the redhead was glaring at the menu pursing her lips lightly while you merely frowned.
“Well, that depends on what are you looking for,” her tone of voice didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and you couldn’t help but raise a single eyebrow at that. The young woman opened her eyes wide blushing profusely. “I mean…I…”
“She is having La Tricolore and I’m having La Tartuffo.” Wanda point two pictures on the menu, before handing it over to the waitress, her eyes gleaming strangely while you just blinked slightly confused. “And I’m having some water, and she is having a cappuccino.”
“Very well, I’ll be right back.” The young woman left rather quickly, her ears burning red after having come across the redhead.
You had your eyebrows raised glancing over at Wanda who was trying rally hard to ignore you. After a moment she finally let out a heavy sigh, her head turned away from you.
“La Tricolore has beef, cheese, some hazelnuts, and that pistachio cream you…” here Wanda trailed off opening her eyes when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, I…”
“I like it, sounds delicious.” You placed your hands on the table not really bothered by what had happened but rather confused. “I’m surprised you remember.”
“I never forget.” Wanda brushed her hair away lifting her face to finally lock her eyes with yours. “I always…remember, Y/N.”
“I remembered too, Wanda. I remembered everything.” You stated but whatever anger you had held it had given way to bitterness and sadness.
Wanda winced tapping on the table before wiggling her hands together.
“I…I never got to…” She tilted her head, and you could see the tears hidden behind those green eyes. “I’m sorry.”
It didn’t even cover what had happened, all the pain she had caused on that day. But those words made your soul tremble, you scoffed shaking your head leaning back on the seat.
“It is too late, don’t you think?” You could see your words hurt her, and everything you had lived up to that point came rushing in piling up inside your mind until you just put everything away and left what was important.
Wanda nodded defeated, “I know, I just…I never got to say it to you.”
But it wasn’t about asking for forgiveness, and you knew that. And Wanda was also well aware of the fact. The question was not about forgiveness, the question was if you could move forward after everything that had happened.
“I never got to say it, I messed up. I was so afraid, I just…I didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to…deal with everything.”
Wanda spoke with a clear desperation tinge in her words, you could see the crumbling behind her eyes, how her soul would tremble while trying to tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear ten years ago.
“Vision was convenient.” Wanda said, this time around she grabbed the seat tightly her body completely tensed making her neck hurt as she forced herself to keep her head up and look at you. “I was so afraid, so lost and…and It’s not an excuse! I deserve your hatred! I deserved your anger! I just…”
“You could have told me, you know?” You finally said when it was obvious Wanda couldn’t continue talking. “I was there for you, and I could have helped. I thought you trusted me but instead of telling me whatever was happening you…”
This was not the conversation the both of you were supposed to have, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You weren’t supposed to understand, but to stand your ground and tell Wanda how much of a bitch she had been. But the last couple of days had taught you something about yourself, about Wanda and what could have been. And if Wanda was confused you weren’t fairing any better.
“I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay because you grew with Natasha and then you have Fury and Maria and Yelena…” Wanda waved her hand weakly, her tears rolling down while her eyes revealed the deep sadness she had always carried with herself.
“I lost everything, and I didn’t know how to deal…and you were strong, and brave, you were not afraid of anything and I was only me.” Wanda broke into a sob, with a crooked smile that showed you just how broken she was. How lost she was still feeling.
“I…after it happened I never…” Wanda started but couldn’t finish, you perked up at her words because this was something you hadn’t bothered to find out.
“What happened after I left? Were you happy? Did he make you happy?” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but your words carry with them poison that you had been holding for far too long.
“I didn’t stay with him, Y/N. I tried to look for you, to reach out for you but…but I couldn’t and I didn’t stay with Vision, I didn’t feel anything I just… I messed up! Okay? That’s what I did, and I didn’t know how to make it better and I’ve been trying to be good to make it better all these years…”
You wouldn't know about that.
Just as she was trying to do some good, you were trying to forget. It was one of the reasons why you kept yourself out of everyone's business and dealt with the superhero work alone. When Tony and Steve got into that quarrel and you saw what happened back in Lagos you knew you had made the right decision. Then, everything became more complicated and you just busy yourself with other problems, always trying to keep the team away while trying to get glimpses of news about Wanda. You knew it had been hard for her, and you also knew she was never alone.
Vision.
That had always been the main issue, wasn't it?
“I was on the run with the others, but I just wanted to disappear. Vision…he was helping me with getting a new identity.” Wanda leaned back tilting her head to the wall to hide the tears rolling down her cheek.
It was an answer to an unasked question. The conversation died for a moment, the waitress eyed Wanda before offering a smile to you placing the different orders on the table.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
“Well, if there is anything I can do, I'm Anne.” The waitress offered one last smile walking backwards and then leaving you two alone.
The food smelled delicious; you grabbed your sandwich allowing Wanda the moment of privacy. The silence grew heavier just as you distracted yourself glancing around the place while taking another bite from your lunch.  
“I was just trying to live my life, and then when Thanos happened…” Wanda huffed turning to her food, she was no longer hungry if anything she wanted to disappear. 
Everything seemed so pointless, the look in your eyes would never leave, and she would go back to a world in which she was despised by the only woman she had ever been in love with.
“This is really delicious; you should try it.” You interrupted her, offering a full smile while grabbing another bite.
Wanda blinked confused; she kept her eyes on you then back on her food. For a brief moment, she hesitated, she was no longer hungry and if she were to be honest she felt tired. You took a sip from your cappuccino, placing your hand on the table, dangerously close to hers.
“I know you are hungry, Wanda. And I also know…I didn't want to know, but I get it.” You passed your hand on your hair pressing your back on the seat. “I'm tired of this, I just…”
“I can't take it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” You crunched up your nose, Wanda lowered her eyes grabbing her food.
“As if I am nothing to you, as if you…you hate me and…”
She trailed off putting the food in her mouth and silencing her words. You frowned, pursing your lips while playing those words inside your head. 
“I don't hate you.” You softened your features, your eyes glistening under the weight of memories. “I could never hate you.”
Silence followed your statement, the shivering discomfort of what your words could mean infused the atmosphere with questions Wanda didn't dare to ask. You lowered your gaze and focused completely on the sandwich that was still on the plate, and for a good half hour that was all you and Wanda did. 
When there was nothing else coming in between the unfinished conversation, Wanda put her hands on the table her eyes down casted. This was actually the very first time the both of you came face to face without anyone or anything coming in between. It was a confrontation you never thought would happen about something you had always imagined. It always came with different scenarios, but the outcome had always been the same. With you finally finding peace and never looking back, and with Wanda filled with regret for what she had lost.
This conversation though was completely different. You lifted your face finding those green eyes staring back at you with longing and a deep sadness that had become characteristic of Wanda. 
“How did you end up in Westview?” The question rolled out of your lips with a hint of bitterness you could not hide.
Wanda winced playing the napkin on the table, you waited until the woman started talking again.
“I found the box you hid in your room back at the Avenger's compound.” She stated simply, her lips breaking into a grimace. “I never…after you left I never went back there until after the battle with Thanos and Steve’s funeral.”
Your eyes opened lightly in realisation; you remembered the box in which you had hidden the future you hoped to share with Wanda. The ring, the map, and the picture…everything made sense now; now you understood why Wanda had chosen that place and how everything had fit at one point or another. The only thing that was out of place had been Vision, your expression hardened and Wanda could tell you were thinking about Westview the life she had created there.
“I never thought of him, you know? I went there because I wanted to…” Wanda snorted lifting her face to the ceiling, her voice trembling under the weight of the memories. “I wanted to understand, and in a way, I wanted to find a way to go back to you. Not as…I mean, I wanted to at least be…be your friend.”
You shifted on the chair hearing as Wanda finally tell you her part of the story, how she had been completely alone after coming back from the Blip. Steve’s funeral showed her just how alone she was, and how lost she really felt; she didn’t have a work or a home or even family and friends. She spent her time driving around until she decided to ask for help and went to the only person she could think of: Tony.
In all this time you could see the story behind her eyes, you could read the suffering and the deep sadness in the gestures and the words that carried with them the flashbacks of those days in which you were ignorant of Wanda’s fate.
“I went there to punish myself.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “I guess I did a good job.”
“Wanda…” You started but the words tangled in your throat, the other woman waited expectantly but after a moment her face fell.
“You don’t have to…”
“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” You frowned lowering your gaze to the empty dishes on the table, you were fully aware of her eyes on you. “All this time, isolating yourself while unable to reach out to anyone…then, finding yourself in Westview with this Agatha…”
Wanda swallowed down her tears, she was trembling with a flame of hope flickering inside her heart. Wanda knew she had created the world around Westview, she knew that her isolation and her grief had broken out into an explosion of her magic to create a reality she could deal with. But she also knew her magic had been tampered with, and her illusion had been corrupted.
“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered with her hands grabbing the chair tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
You nodded standing up while making your way to where she was sitting, you offered your hand though your face never changed. For a brief moment, Wanda hesitated, she glanced at your hand and then with a trembling hand accepted it.
“They do look like us, you know?” You stated flatly, your hand warm against hers.
Wanda furrowed her brows, her tears rolling down her cheeks but her eyes gleaming in confusion.
“Why?”
“Billy and Tommy.” You stated simply. “They do look like us.”
_______________________________________
That night you sat right outside the house.
Music and conversation could be heard in the backyard, with the lights of the kitchen projecting shadows on the grass. The sky above hour head was still showered with white dots that resulted familiar yet so different to what you were used to; the air was cold but nothing you couldn’t take in a night like that one.
You took a deep breath filling your lungs with cold air, inside your mind thoughts came crashing down into a myriad of possibilities and plans yet to be executed. The conversation with Wanda had gone unexpectedly well, yet you knew a lot of things needed to be done and said before things would be okay.
“Aren’t you a little cold out here?” America crunched up her nose trying to balance the two glasses she was carrying with her.
You turned to her, chuckling before stretching a little to help her out.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a part of this great celebration?”
America shrugged offering a tiny smile, “the twins are distracted with Wanda, both of them, and the rest is just chattering around.”
“So you decided to come to me?” You shook your head taking a sip from the beverage the young woman had brought with her. “You’re crazy.”
“Not as crazy as you are.” America wrapped her hands around the glass eyeing you out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you?”
“I guess I’m okay, how about you?” You pointed with your head to the house behind you, “this is what you missed, isn’t it? Now that you are back, well…”
America nodded turning her body to yours, “I feel happy, but I also feel lost. I know that I found them again, and I have so many possibilities right now, I just…”
 “Don’t know what to do?” You asked, America shrugged lowering her eyes.
“I’m finally starting to understand my powers and to get some control over them, if I keep working on them I would be able to travel without getting lost.” America let out a sigh dropping her shoulders, “those are a lot of possibilities and right now I think I need stability and keep learning.”
“Wise words, you have grown some, kiddo.” You bumped against her shoulder; the young woman blushed lightly offering a timid smile. “It may take time, but I’m pretty sure you will learn to control them.”
None of you mentioned the possibility of America finding her way back home, while it was an option it didn’t mean that America would find it once she had some control on her abilities. But for now, the young woman was happy to learn more about her powers and herself, her heart and soul finally finding a place she could call home.
“You don’t mind me coming back with you and Wanda?” America finally asked biting her lower lip while taking the last sip of her drink to her lips.
“No, I think it’s going to be fun.” You replied glancing at the young woman, “but I have to tell you right now, the training is going to be brutal.”
“I didn’t expect anything else.”
You chuckled nodding, “good.”
America straightened up tilting her head to glance at you then back at the house. You knew what the question was she wanted to ask, but you didn’t rush it.
“Are you and Wanda going to be okay?”
“I don’t know.” The honesty with which you answered that surprised even you, you turned to America with a serious face. “I’m not sure what would happen, America, but I guess I’m willing to find out.”
“That’s good, right?”
You shrugged, and the young woman went back to rest her head on your shoulder still highly confused by your answer. The sound of laughter, music and conversation filling out the sudden silence that embrace the both of you, your thoughts coming back to Wanda and the day you had spent with her.
Only time would tell what would happen next, and you were waiting anxiously what would happen next.
_______________________________
Billy and Tommy were talking non-stop, they were excited showing Wanda the latest project they had been working on back at school. The young woman could hardly hold her tears while letting her children talk to her about school and their lives as if she had always been there.
At first, it had hurt.
Wanda knew they were not hers, and yet she couldn’t help but love them and see them with the same eyes she had seen the twins back in her universe. A part of her never thought she would see Billy and Tommy again, the moment the illusion had fallen around her and she discovered what she had done to Westview she knew there wouldn’t be a way for her to recover her children.
Yet here they were.
 In another world, in another universe looking the same as she had imagined them once.
This time around everything was as it was supposed to be, with you by her side raising two children being a happy family.  A part of Wanda felt envy for everything her counterpart had and she couldn’t have.
“Are you sure you can’t have a family of your own?”
Wanda huffed turning to the source of the voice, her counterpart stood right beside her with softened eyes staring at the twins that were getting ready for bed. Wanda dropped her arms to her sides, her eyes glancing back into the room then back to the woman standing beside her.
“I’m pretty sure, she…” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself furrowing her brows, “she doesn’t love me anymore. I am nothing more than…and ally, and even that would be to stretch out our relationship.”
The other Wanda pursed her lips, she stepped closer never letting go of those green eyes she was so familiar with.
“You don’t believe that.” Wanda stated holding back a smile when the other woman stepped back scowling.
“I have to believe it, I can’t…” Wanda sighed lifting her chin to the ceiling holding back her weakness, she didn’t want the twins to see her cry. “I have to believe it or I will break my heart once more and I can’t lose control of my magic, I…last time it didn’t go well.”
The room filled with laughter, Billy ran to the bed jumping up and down with Tommy trying to follow up before falling down on his face. Wanda couldn’t help but gasp ready to help out but stopping when a gentle hand wrapped tenderly on her forearm. It was strange to see herself staring at her looking the same yet being so different than she was.
The twins were back in the game, falling on bed while discussing some subject Wanda couldn’t hear pretty well. The fall was soon forgotten and both of them were ready to go to sleep.
“Go on, you can put them to be and I will wait for you here.”
“Thank you.” Wanda whispered to her counterpart entering the room and going to Billy first.
The woman offered a shaky smile, her trembling hand brushing away his dark hair while her lips curved into a smile. Billy smiled back blinking slowly.
“Are you okay, mom?”
Wanda nodded leaning in placing a single kiss on his forehead, “more than okay, Billy. Have a good night, baby.”
“Good night, mommy.”
Then, Wanda went to Tommy who was looking at her differently, he wrapped his arms around her hugging her tightly and this time around she couldn’t help but cry.
“I love you, mom.”
“I love you too, Tommy, now go to sleep.” Once more she placed a kiss on Tommy’s forehead and with that she stepped back walking towards the door. “Sleep well, guys.”
“Night, mom!”
The door close behind her, and Wanda stood there allowing herself the goodbye she had longed to have with the twins. She tried to give the right closure to her emotions knowing full well she would go back a world in which she would be all alone. No twins, no Y/N, only her.
“Thank you.” Wanda whispered locking her eyes with those of her counterpart, the other woman nodded curtly.
“I knew it was important for you.” The woman hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but you shouldn’t lose any hope, Wanda. You and Y/N…”
“Don’t, please.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t give me hope, don’t tell me it is possible because…god, I’ve been breaking my heart over and over again and I just…I can’t take it anymore.”
“Then don’t let it go, don’t let it go without a fight.”
Wanda lifted her face to see her counterpart dead serious, the woman came closer wrapping her hands on her forearms making sure Wanda could not look away.
“You love her, and I am pretty sure she loves you as well, whatever happened in the past it shall stay there.” Wanda then softened letting go of her grip. “Don’t give up just yet, you may be surprised.”
Wanda wanted to talk, she wanted to believe but at the moment she was just tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, everything she had lived up to that point. She was overwhelmed by the fact that you were so close to her yet so far away, that she would go back to a world in which the twins were not there and she would be, once more, alone.
________________________________________
It was a sunny day.
America went over the contents of her backpack, her body was tingling all over while a void filled with butterflies settled in her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, her hands trembling while she secured the zipper on the backpack.
“You look nervous, you know you don’t have to go, right?” Y/N came into the room glancing around before settling her eyes on America, the young woman turned around offering a tiny smile.
“I know.” She replied shrugging, her hands played with the band on her wrist she tried to look everywhere but at Y/N but at the end of the day she couldn’t help it, she lifted her face and let the tears fall down.
“I’m sorry.” America whispered waiting for a recrimination on her part, for Y/N to finally tell her how bad she had messed up the first time she had fallen on their Universe.
But it never came, nor from her or Wanda, or anyone for that matter. America surrendered to the warm embrace of Y/N’s arms, she let the tears and sobs she had been holding to scape and finally liberated her mind of the guiltiness she had been feeling all this time.
“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Y/N whispered soothingly her hand drawing circles with a half-smile showing on her face.
“I just…I shouldn’t have run the way I did, I should have fight or something.” America replied, leaning back, she was furrowing her brows while lifting her hands. “I could have stayed and helped around.”
“It wasn’t optional, though. You had to keep going to survive, that’s rule number one in this line of work, America.” Y/N put her hands on her pockets, her hair falling to the side with an easy smile adorning her lips. “You did what you have to at that point and no one should ever blame you for that. If it hadn’t been that way well, I wouldn’t be here telling the story.”
America doubted very much that it would have happened in such a way, but she would never really know it for certain. Ever since she started travelling through universes consciously she had learnt to deal with the different realities, trying to adapt to them and survive them. She never thought she would settle in a single universe, much less that she would get attach to the people in it.
The sound of conversation broke the sudden silence in the room, the twins laughing with Pietro and Wanda yelling for everyone to go to the backyard was the signal America had been waiting for. She stepped closer to give Y/N one last hug.
“Thank you for everything you did for me, Y/N. I couldn’t say this the last time due to the circumstances…”
“Us running for our lives?” Y/N chimed in chuckling, America snorted rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, that, I mean you guys received me in your home and gave me a chance to a family, I just..I will always carry that with me.”
Y/N softened while giving the teen another hug, “anytime kid, you are welcome in our household whenever you decided to come back.”
“I know, I just think I am needed it elsewhere.”
“I think so to.” Y/N stepped back glancing to the open door. “Watch over them, make sure that they are okay.”
“I will.” America smiled grabbing her backpack ready to go.
It was almost midday by the time America and Y/n came out of the house.
The backyard was full with Tony and Loki working around the logistics and the twins just running around between the two Wanda’s and everyone else. You stood by the garden, the conversation that Loki was having with Tony, Wong, Hank and America had lost all meaning as you entertained yourself with the last sight of the world that could have been. Your body was completely tensed, your eyes drifting around until they fell on the form of Wanda, your Wanda.
“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, you turned to her shaking your head.
“Were you?”
“No, I was never ready whenever she was around.” Y/N replied shrugging, “but once we had made our mind there was nothing that could stop us.”
You snorted nodding, “that’s right.”
“Are you going to fight?” Y/N stepped closer, her eyes going from you to Wanda then back again.
“I am going to make things right, I’m not sure if they will end up the same way it did here.” You replied placing your hands inside your pockets. “I guess only time will tell.”
Y/N nodded stretching her right hand to you, an easy smile forming on her lips.
“I hope everything goes well for you and Wanda, Y/N, just remember what’s really important.” Y/N said grabbing your hand with a friendly squeezed. “Please, be happy.”
“Protect them and be for them whenever they need you.” You replied squeezing back.
“I will.”
“Well, I guess we can try the portal once more, are you guys ready? Did you say your good-byes?” Tony clapped before rubbing his hands, everyone went to get in position until the cries of two boys reached them over.
Tommy and Billy came running with Wanda following them close behind, Billy went directly to Wanda wrapping his arms around her while Tommy went to you.
“I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled looking up at you.
You chuckled ruffling his hair playfully, “I doubt it, pal. You have your mom’s here, but I am gonna miss you.”
“Say hi to your Tommy for me, please? Tell him he has the best mom in the whole universe!”
Those words pierced deeply inside your heart, but the innocence and the smile in Tommy’s face made you held back any reaction that wasn’t one of agreement.
“I will, Tommy, be good.”
At the other side of the yard Wanda and Billy were having a similar conversation, Wanda hugged him tightly before trying to let go. Billy called to her, looking around before wrapping his arms around Wanda’s neck, his lips close to her ear.
“Everything is gonna be okay, mommy, don’t worry, mom will come around.” Billy offered a toothy grin to Wanda who was too shocked to talk. “say hi to your billy for me, love you mom!”
Wanda watched as Billy joined his brother right beside their mother, Wanda locked eyes with her counterpart who offered a half smile and a vision Wanda Maximoff would not talk about until several years later. For now, she was just filled with doubts, and hopes, and uncertainties and soon Wanda was drowned by the voices surrounding her.
“Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult, everyone remembers their roles?” Loki asked once more standing to the side while pointing at America who rolled her eyes.
“I do, I remember.”
“Good, because if you fail the three of you are going to be traveling around without a proper destination and probably die a horrible dead.”
“That’s so comforting, Loki.” You replied rolling your eyes. 2Stop scaring America and do your job.”
Loki rolled his eyes flickering his hands while putting the golden book out of thin air, he sat down crossing his legs while looking to an invisible spot in front of him.
“Very well, your timeline is not that hard to find, it is the only one with a latent anomaly.”
“How can you tell is ours and not a random one?”
Loki glared at you before going back to his work, “I can sense it, and this one lack something, it is missing something, I guess that would be both of you.”
Soon everyone was taking positions, Wanda stood beside you shifting from one foot to the other, her hands wiggling nervously while she tried to keep her eyes right ahead of herself. You could sense her uneasiness, her hands twitching biting her lower lip. America came forward, she was showing off a frown filled with confusion that Tony helped erased with a whispered explanation.
You eyed Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, the woman was completely tensed still bouncing trying to hold onto something but unable to find herself at ease. You doubted it for a moment before you grabbed her hand in yours.
Her hand was warm and soft, at first she was completely tensed and rigid but as soon as she sensed it was you her hand started to relax and give in the feeling.
“It’s gonna be okay.” You whispered; Wanda offered a smile nodding.
“I know.” Wanda knew that as long as you kept holding her hand everything would be okay, she didn’t dare to say anything else but in a bold move she spread her fingers and soon her hand was intertwined with yours.
You jerked around but Wanda was completely focused on America, after a moment of hesitation you straightened up frowning lightly though your hand clasped tenderly Wanda’s hand.
“Okay, it was nice meeting you all, now let’s begin.” Loki closed his eyes and soon the golden light of his magic started gleaming powerfully forming a tight circle that surrounded you and Wanda alongside America.
America could feel the power, she was sensing it through her muscles and her fingertips while her mind became a mask of pure blankness trying to form an idea. She remembered the lesson, to follow the magic around her while also joining her energy with that of Wanda and Y/N, her power running through her arm in electric jolts and then igniting her eyes until she was finally ready to make it explode.
Pulling her arm back, closing her fist America stretched her arm hitting the space in between her and the backyard creating an explosion in the form of a Star. The portal opened until it was as big as America, you peeked in watching the white plains of Norway, or at least that was what you thought.
With a last glance to your counterpart and Wanda, you squeezed the hand you were holding tenderly.
“Ready?” It was all you could say before the young woman nodded and with a single step she dragged you right through the portal.
The world you three had left behind was waiting for you.
And you were not sure what would happen next, the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t want to let go of the hand holding yours.
The portal closed behind the three of you leaving everyone behind with many questions and little to no answers.
Billy and Tommy hugged Wanda still glancing the place where the portal had been moments ago. The woman glanced at her children knowing there was something bothering greatly.
“Mommy, do you think they will love us?” Tommy asked lifting his face to Wanda, Wanda furrowed her brows tilting her head.
“What do you mean, baby?”
Billy scrunched up his nose, “You think they will love Billy and Tommy the way you love us?”
Wanda softened at the question; she knelt in front of her boys not really knowing how to explain that in their world they both didn’t even exist.
“Billy, I’m pretty sure that they would be very lucky to have children like the both of you, and they would absolutely love you very much.” This answer seemed to satisfy the boys, and just when Wanda thought the topic was over Tommy talked again.
“They are gonna love us very much, mommy.” Tommy smiled snugging closer to Wanda. “Just like they love one another very much, that’s how you and mommy made us, right?”
Wanda didn’t answer, but a part of her certainly hope that Tommy was not wrong. She had always hoped that her love for you would survive in every universe, Wanda lifted her face to see Y/N looking at her with tenderness and love, and Wanda knew right there and then that her counterpart would be okay.
You never stopped looking at her like that, you just learnt how to hide it pretty well.
You were still pretty much in love with your Wanda.
And now that you were gone with her, only time would tell if love was still possible.
Wanda sighed wishing you would let go of your resentment and doubts and give yourself and her counterpart a chance.
With a last glance to the space where you and the others had been standing, Wanda turned around hopeful that the past would stay in the past.
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Next Chapter: You are finally back to your universe, everything seems surreal as you and the others are taken to interrogation rooms before resuming your normal lives. Carol doesn't want to leave your side, and Wanda knows she needs to step aside even though that's the last thing she wants to do.
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sorchathered · 2 months
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Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 8
A/N- thank you guys so much for being patient with me, I know that cliffhanger shook everyone up but I promise your patience will be rewarded!
Pairing- Jake Seresin x Reader (OC Stormy)
Warnings- injuries, cursing, smut
Song inspo- “Like I’m gonna lose you” - Meghan Trainor
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It had been nearly 6 weeks since your accident, ejecting over the ocean in an aircraft during a dogfight which resulted in your shoot not properly deploying, sending you spiraling towards the ocean at a speed that thankfully didn’t kill you or your pilot. The emergency team that life flighted you to Maryland had to sedate you heavily to manage your pain, so excruciating that it required what the doctor had called a medically induced coma. Broken collarbone, broken left wrist, fractured femur and a gnarly concussion that had you out for several days, waking up alive certainly not what you were expecting; the first thing that caught your eyes was the golden blonde hair and green eyes of the man you loved. Jake had been there through it all, every sleepless night, surgery, pt until you were finally released to go back to your home in Pensacola. You knew your godfather had facilitated some sort of miracle to allow Jake so much time away from his job and for that you couldn’t be more grateful, Uncle Beau couldn’t be your support team so he made sure you had everything you needed.
You were exhausted, the plane ride had been painful and as much as you’d tried to put on a brave face Jake could tell you were suffering, he got you inside and settled in bed and refused to let you do anything other than rest, you knew he had to be running on fumes but if he was he didn’t show it. You weren’t wrong, he was wrung out both emotionally and physically but if he stopped pushing forward he knew he’d break down, there had been nights when you were sedated that he worried you wouldn’t get through it and having to face life alone without you was too much for his heart to bear. Now that he had you home and safe he couldn’t imagine going back to North Island, let alone watching you get back into your jet, the thought sent a shudder through him; losing you was never something he’d imagined before all of this but now it consumed his every waking moment. It wasn’t healthy, and he was a bad liar so he knew you could tell he was fraying at the edges, your doctor had suggested that it would be beneficial for you both to do therapy together or separate and he was sure that was an option that needed to be explored. He started a load of laundry and as the clothes swirled in the washer he scrolled through his phone to find admiral Simpsons number, maybe requesting a transfer could give him the peace he needed to sleep at night.
A week goes by, pt is going well, your godfather has extended Jake’s leave once again but his request for transfer was denied (which you expected and told him at least 1,000 times you didn’t need him to move across the country to babysit you), but you could tell his nerves were shot. when you woke up most nights he wasn’t in the bed, usually in the living room reading or watching tv, sometimes on a run that would last for hours. Therapy hadn’t been easy the first session, you’d rehashed the drama of your crash and had ended it in tears, you’d been assured it would get easier but it felt like it never would, especially with the walls it felt like Jake was building around you. He treated you like glass and it was becoming more and more frustrating, he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his head, he definitely wouldn’t sleep with you and all you’d gotten were a handful of kisses and hand holding since you’d come back to Florida. It felt like he was pushing you away and that was what you knew would push you over the edge, injuries you could heal from but losing him? That would destroy you.
Jake of course is clueless to your fears, he is just pushing through each day trying to make sure you are healthy and getting better, the thought hasn’t even occurred to him that he’s been distant, how could he be? He’s with you all the time! But when he gets back from his nearly 10 mile run the tension he hadn’t noticed is palpable, you’ve somehow showered and changed without him and when he catches your eyes from your spot on the couch he knows you are ready for a fight. He’s seen that look over a dozen times but never aimed at him, the storm is raging in your features, jaw clenched and eyes red rimmed with tears; you’ve been crying and somehow it’s his fault.
“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you wait for me? You shouldn’t be doing anything by yourself-“ he started but you waved your hand dismissively and continued to scowl and tear up, he didn’t know what was going on but whatever he’d done he would get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. “I’m not hurt, I managed to take my brace off to shower and put it back on by myself, that’s not the problem. The problem is us.” You said the last part in almost a whisper as you burst into tears, you’d never been much for crying when you were upset but everything had gotten so overwhelming and you couldn’t get your thoughts together, Jake surged forward to scoop you up and it didn’t matter that he was sweaty and gross you needed his touch more than you could say. You clawed at his skin and gasped out as you tried to stall your tears, pulling at his face to kiss you and he reciprocated but continued to hold you as gently as possible, afraid to jostle you too much and hurt your leg. Your eyes looked wild as he pulled you back a little to calm you down, but you kept clinging to him and trying to pull him closer, he didn’t want to stop but the fear of hurting you was prevalent so he pulled back completely and stood up, only to be met with another round of tears. “Hey hey, you gotta talk to me sugar I don’t understand what’s going on? You’re scaring me baby, just tell me what it is and I’ll fix it ok?” You looked at him and huffed like a petulant child and he almost laughed but knew it would only make it worse, something was eating you up and he didn’t have a clue where to start. “I don’t understand how you don’t get it, you’re doing it to me right now! You’re pushing me away, I’m not made of glass Jake! You’ve barely touched me since we got home, it’s like you don’t even want me anymore and I can’t stand it!” You wailed out and he had never felt more idiotic in his life. He had been so focused on your recovery that it had never even occurred to him that you would want him like that right now, but of course you did; you needed him physically just like he always had when things were hard and somehow he’d completely missed it. You were still sniffling as he ran his hand over his face and chuckled, which made you scrunch your face up angrily at him because how was this funny? He had been acting like an ass, of course he’d done everything to be your caretaker but damnit you wanted your boyfriend.
“Oh sweet thing I’m so sorry, I really have been stupid huh?” He said as he stepped back into your space and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t realize, baby, can I fix it? Take you to bed and show you how sorry I am?” You nodded furiously and put your hands out for him to scoop you up, letting him carry you down the hall to the bedroom as you kissed his face and neck, running your hands through his sweaty hair and down his shoulders. He still treats you like your fragile, but it’s in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses placed all over your body as he removes your clothes, there’s a reverence in the way he loves you, you’d missed the intimacy of being with him so much it hurt, and now that he knew what you needed you knew he’d give you everything. He could tell you were irritated by the leg brace, couldn’t quite get close to him the way you wanted, you were terrible at hiding it with your furrowed brows and frustrated huffs as you tried to gain leverage and push up against him. He stilled you with a hand on your hips and kissed you sweetly on the forehead trying to smooth away the irritation. “You’re so stubborn, lay still and be a good girl ok baby girl I’m gonna get you there I promise, be sweet for me like I know you can.” You huffed out again but did what he asked, watching as he kissed down your torso and hitched your good leg over his shoulder, you were already so wet and gasping for him but he was going to draw this out as long as possible, you said you needed him to touch you so he would until you couldn’t take it anymore.
He was so damn lucky, and he knew it. He could’ve lost you, missed out on moments like this, watching you come undone for him as he tasted you over and over again until you were a crying mess, taking you to the precipice as you writhed and begged for him to let you cum, but he wouldn't let you just yet, white knuckling the sheets and sobbing his name, pussy leaking all over his hands and mouth as your beautiful eyes rolled back, it was heaven on earth being with you like this and he’d never take it for granted. You were positive that you’d come out of your own skin if he didn’t let you come soon, pulling at his hair and pleading him with wasn’t working, and soon you were too far gone to even do that, just letting little noises out as you rolled your head back and forth and gasped his name, and finally he pulled away from you, climbing back up your body to sloppily lick into your mouth, he was covered in you and it was sinful, you couldn’t stop bucking into him and squirming and he just chuckled as he groped your chest and kissed your neck. “Jake- I get it ok, I was being a brat just- just please please fuck me, need it oh fuck please please” you couldn’t stop babbling even as he began to glide his cock through your slick, and he slid into you with no resistance, your body so wound up that you couldn’t stop, immediately clamping down on him and succumbing to your orgasm. He growled into your neck at how good you were, continuing to fuck you through it as you gushed all over him and onto the sheets, he’d been so turned on by edging you that he was hopeless to hold back his own orgasm, thrusting into you hard a few times and spilling into you, both of you sweat slicked and sated, finally feeling like maybe you’d made it through the worst of this season of life.
You’d fallen asleep shortly after, going in and out as he cleaned you up and tucked you in, promises to come back after he started the laundry. You knew it hadn’t been long because the sun was still out but when you woke his side of the bed was still made and cold, so you hobbled down the hall until you could hear him talking to someone on the phone. “I know Mama, she’s gonna be alright but I don’t know how to leave her, I’m scared to death to let her out of my sight let alone in her jet again. Yeah, they’re sending me back next week, I’m gonna do everything I can to make things easier but- I don’t know mama I can ask if she wants the company, she’s got an extra room but I don’t want to overwhelm her, I just want to keep her safe.” You could hear the rawness in his voice, and your heart broke, you weren’t ready to be without him either but he had to go back, you’d already been given too many favors and the navy wasn’t likely to give anymore. “Jake” you called to him and he fumbled with the phone and swiped his eyes, looking up at you with the saddest smile you’d ever seen. “Tell your mama I’d love to have her here, you’re right I could use the company and we are definitely overdue for the girl time.” There it was, his thousand watt smile you fell in love with, he crossed the room to scoop you in his arms and you could see the relief on his face. You swiped the phone from his hand and laughed, “Hey Mama Leigh, how about we order you that plane ticket? We’ve got all sorts of catching up to do, and you can fill me in on all Jake’s most embarrassing stories.”
Leigh Seresin was the very picture of a southern grandma, styled blonde hair and perfect makeup, but none of the catty attitude, just warmth and kindness. When you and Jake picked her up from the airport she pulled you both up into a hug, fussing at you for not using your crutches and producing a big container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She reminded you so much of your grandmother in so many ways, she wasn’t pushy but she wouldn’t let you lift a finger, making sure you were settled and then ushering Jake into the kitchen to help her make dinner as you dozed on the couch. She knew you were the one for her son, could see it on his face months ago when he’d admitted that you two were together, she wasn’t surprised one bit, she’d known for years that he had a thing for you and eventually you two would figure it out. Checking to make sure you were still asleep she dug through her never ending coach bag (Jake always called her Mary poppins because she seemed to have everything) and produced a small velvet box. “You said you wanted me to give this to you when you were ready, and I know right now may not be the right time but son one day it will be. She’s the right one sweetheart, I can feel it in my bones.” There inside the little green box was the thing he’d dreamed about putting on your finger from that very first weekend, Grandma Seresin’s vintage engagement ring. He knew he’d have to wait a little while, let you heal up all the way and see where your career took you but holding it in his hand and watching you sleep on the couch he couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place.
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Jake Seresin masterlist
Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @djs8891 @mygyn @pinkdaisies9285 @mrsevans90 @seitmai @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @86laura11 @its-the-pilot @jostan456 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @kmc1989 @nouis-bum @dempy @floydsglasses
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madaqueue · 2 months
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Dripping in Gold | Chapter 6
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synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.
pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader [suguru geto x f!reader]
themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, angst, smut. alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of oral (f receiving). 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.2k
a/n: tbh writing this chapter has started turning me into a geto girlie lmao i may have to do some more content for him later teehee
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The warmth of the bar greets your skin as the buzz of conversation fills your ears. You’re too exhausted to wonder if you’re overdressed, your black dress hanging loosely off you after your encounter with Toji. Making your way past sticky, sweaty bodies, you finally find an open seat and sit down on the swivelling stools.
You order a beer and a shot of the cheapest liquor they have, anything to clear your mind of the day. More than anything, though, you’re just trying to clear your thoughts of Gojo. He has this insidious way of popping up when you least expect it, when you let the noise in your head get a bit too quiet.
Knocking back the shot quickly, you sip your drink as you wait for it to kick in, hoping to blur the edges of the turmoil inside you.
An arm reaches across the bar in front of you as a man leans against the counter. “You know, some places consider it rude to take shots by yourself,” he opens, his voice airy. “They’re made to bring people together, but here you are, looking so lonely.”
“Well, good thing that’s not here,” you retort, not bothering to look up at him. You don’t want to be talked to right now, all you want is to sit, drink, get a taxi home, and go to bed.
“I’ll take two more of whatever she just ordered,” the man requests from the bartender, talking to him over your shoulder. “Cheers,” he turns back to you, holding out the two small glasses of liquor.
Your eyes finally move up to him, sluggishly scanning the black dress shirt over his torso, to his arms, one of which is covered in a full sleeve tattoo depicting what seems to be a dragon (it’s hard to tell under the dim light of the bar, and you can only see his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up to, anyways). Finally, your gaze meets his face and your heart flutters for a moment. His dark eyes are partially covered by a few loose strands as his bangs escape the bun that holds most of his black hair.
Oh my god, he’s fucking hot.
Maybe it’s the alcohol finally hitting you or maybe it’s the fact that one of the most gorgeous people you’ve ever seen is standing in front of you, but your cheeks suddenly get hot as you try to avert your gaze from the man you were just ogling.
A soft laugh escapes his lips as he watches you become visibly flustered. “Aw c’mon now angel, you’re really gonna turn down a free drink?”
The nickname only furthers your bashfulness as you try to regain a semblance of self-respect. “N-no,” you mutter, still not able to look back up at him as you reach out your hand to accept the glass.
Before you realize it, the glass slips through your fingers, tumbling to the floor as it spills its contents over you.
“Shit,” you exclaim as the glass shatters beneath you, suddenly covered in liquor.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, grabbing napkins off the bar to try and pat you dry.
You sigh. “It’s fine, honestly with how this day was going I’m not surprised something like this would happen,” you reply with a sarcastic chuckle.
The man squats down to collect the broken glass, and something about him practically kneeling between your legs as he does so sends shivers through your body. Once he’s carefully placed all the pieces in a napkin, he turns his attention back up to you, still between your thighs.
“I know this isn’t very romantic, but I live about a block from here, I can get you a change of clothes and wash your dress for you if you’d like,” he offers.
“Is this your attempt at flirting with me?” you tease, trying to shove down the images your brain flashes you of what he would look like if he just leaned forward a bit, tongue against your pussy, eating you out.
No, I’m not doing this again. I’m just getting over Gojo, and the stuff with Toji. No.
“Oh, angel,” he purrs through a low voice, standing up, his body suddenly so close to yours, “if I was flirting with you, you’d know.”
Okay, nevermind.
Unable to discern if it’s the heat of his body or the warmth of the bar, something hot builds in your stomach. You need him.
“Okay, let’s go” you huff, hopping off the stool and grabbing him by the wrist as you lead him out of the bar. You can’t see behind you, but he’s grinning ear to ear.
On the walk to his place, you realize you’re about to willingly go home with a complete stranger. Maybe the whole situation with Gojo made your morals slip a little more than you cared to admit - after all, you did just fuck Toji a few hours earlier, but you at least had his address and pictures in case something were to happen. As the dark-haired man leads you down an unknown street, nervousness builds inside you.
“I-um, I just realized I never got your name,” you observe, trying to quiet your nerves.
He smiles, so genuine that it almost immediately puts you back at ease. “I’m Suguru Geto.”
Okay, a name is at least something, and honestly you weren’t getting any threatening vibes from him. I’m sure it’ll be fine, you reassure yourself as he stops in front of a door, reaching into his pocket to grab a collection of keys.
Unlocking the door, you step inside to the nicest apartment you’ve ever seen as Suguru flicks the lights on for you. The white granite countertop of the kitchen greets you first as your eyes move past it to the living room, decorated with a perfectly clean white couch and light wood coffee table, a gold vase with fresh roses sitting in the middle.
You try to stifle a laugh at how impeccable everything is. No way a guy lives here. Especially not a single guy. This is the opposite of whatever a bachelor pad is, it almost looks professionally designed.
“I can show you to my room to get that dress off for you, if you’d like,” Geto murmurs behind you, forcing your attention back to him.
You nod and he leads you down a hallway to the right of the living room, turning into the first door on his left. It seems like the hallway just keeps going, maybe to an office? You really don’t know enough about Geto to even make an educated guess on his living situation, but you honestly don’t really care. You just want to be out of this dress and under him.
His room is just as perfect as the rest of the apartment, a neatly made bed in the middle with a black comforter, plants decorating the corners of the space.
He clicks on a lamp to provide some lighting before turning around. “I’ll be in the living room, just take whatever clothes you need and come get me when you’re done,” he says as he reaches a hand up to his hair, undoing the bun and letting his shoulder-length locks fall.
Your arm shoots out to grab his wrist, freezing him in place. “Suguru,” you hum, voice low and full of lust, “why don’t you stay in here? I might need help finding something to change into.”
Slowly, he turns back to you, a sly grin on his face. “If you insist, angel.”
With that, his hands are on you. His palms grab your waist and lift you up, gently tossing you onto the bed. Your lips meet his as he lays on top of you, his breath smokey with the taste of liquor. “Let’s get this dress off you, hm?” he purrs against your mouth.
Snaking his hands behind you he undoes the zipper and slides it down your legs without breaking the kiss. While he does so, your hands are on his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt. He pulls it off his shoulders and tosses it across the room before leaning back down, his lips now tracing down your neck.
You open your eyes slightly, taking in the muscles lining his shoulders and back. So, it is a dragon tattoo, you think to yourself as you mentally trace the outline of it down his arm.
Suguru continues working his way down your body, leaving trails of sloppy kisses along the way, until he finds himself between your thighs. The image of him from the bar flashes into your mind and you smile to yourself in anticipation.
A realization suddenly comes to you: this is about to be the first time in months that you’ve fucked someone and haven’t gotten paid. Hell, it was probably closer to a year since your sex life wasn’t particularly active before Gojo.
Suguru seems to sense the shift in you, pausing from where he was gently sucking on the flesh of your inner thighs. “You okay there, angel?”
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, unsure of what emotion you’re feeling as you grapple with the need to understand why you’re about to hook up with Geto. Is it because you want to? Is that even allowed? The concept feels foreign, especially after Toji. But then again, you kept seeing Satoru long after you had enough money - besides, there was that day when he forgot to pay you, and you didn’t seem to care. What did you want?
“M’kay, if you say so, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
Your heart drops. Images of Satoru come flooding back to you as the word repeats in your mind, only this time in his voice. The way he’d laugh through it as he teased you, how he’d whine it when you’d suck a little too hard on the skin of his neck, when he’d whisper it to you as he placed a kiss on your forehead before you both drifted into sleep.
Fuck. Fuck. No, not this, not now.
You were just starting to get over him, you were finally hoping to forget about him.
“I-I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you mutter, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
Suguru immediately sits up and moves to your side, eyes scanning your face. “Okay, that’s okay,” he reassures, gently rubbing your arm as panic begins to take over you.
“Y-you didn’t do anything wrong,” your voice waivers as you wipe away the first few tears starting to fall. “Sorry I just…” you sigh, “I have feelings for someone else.”
The words leaving your mouth feel like a surprise even to you, but some part of you deep down knows it’s true. In everything you’ve been doing you’ve been trying to push Satoru out of your mind, but with each shove it seems like he digs his heels into you further, unable to tear yourselves apart.
“Oh,” Geto chuckles softly, “I get it. I’ve been there.” He squeezes your hand and hops off the bed with a gentle grin, moving towards his closet. Grabbing a large black t-shirt, he tosses it to you before grabbing your dress off the floor. “Why don’t you put this on, and I’ll get this in the wash for you. You’re welcome to stay here tonight since it’s pretty late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
A smile forms on your face from his kindness as your tears begin to slow. “Thanks, Suguru.”
He nods, still grinning, and heads out of the room. Now alone, you’re able to try working through what just happened with him.
You still have feelings for Gojo? No, that can’t be right, because he doesn’t have feelings for you. Besides, you haven’t seen him in months, and you’ve been completely no-contact since you confessed to him.
But then, why would you turn down hooking up with Geto? There weren’t even supposed to be any emotions involved in it, at least not like there were with Gojo. Wait, were there emotions with Gojo?
Thinking back, you remember the way he’d look at you, eyes soft and full of love. He looked at you like you made everything good in the universe, as if you single handedly hung the sun in the sky and painted the clouds just for him. His gentleness with you, even when he was rough, was tender. The way his lips would linger on yours just a moment longer when you said goodbye after each date, how he’d watch you walk back into your apartment building because he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you, how he’d purposely leave sweatshirts laying around for you to borrow so you could remember him even when you were apart.
Those are feelings. They have to be, right?
Too tired and too confused to think any more, you put on the t-shirt Suguru gave you and pass out in his bed, wishing Satoru’s arms were around you.
In the morning, you awake to the smell of pancakes. How sweet of Geto to cook. Sliding out of the covers, your bare feet make their way over to the door before opening it and stepping into the hallway.
Your eyes close as you stretch your arms up above your head. “G’morning,” you yawn.
“Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart,” a voice calls from across the kitchen.
Your eyes shoot open, body frozen in place, as your gaze meets the man who you fell asleep wishing for.
“Satoru?”
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