#and it left such a strong impression on her so she couldn't help pausing and staring XDD

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @weptsorrow || yinyue starter call ]

─「银月」─  the ROVER actually had to stop in her tracks when she passed by this person. something tugged at the back of her mind that he looked familiar despite how his outfit didn't quite fit into what one would see from those around jinzhou. where had she seen this man before, though ? she couldn't quite put her finger on it. while deep in thoughts, however, she realized that she had been staring at him for long enough to make him notice. right, that's rude of her.

                " my apologies, i didn't mean to stare. " a faint hint of pink dusted her cheeks as she offered a small bow. " i just feel like i have seen you somewhere before. i was trying to jog my memory. "

[ginnsbaker]

In Silent Screams (2/3)

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.

Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships

Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

Part II

Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together. 

Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.

Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?

Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs. 

To you. 

-

“You’re kidding.”

Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”

He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”

It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”

Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”

Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”

“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”

Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by  a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”

Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her. 

“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.

Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”

Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.

He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.

Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.

She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”

Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.

“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.

Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—

Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—

“...it’s an indemnity.”

It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”

Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together.  It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”

Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”

He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.

After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”

Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately.  “How am I lying?”

There it is—his opening.

“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.

She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”

“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”

A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”

His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly. 

“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.

Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.

His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”

Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”

She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought. 

Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?

Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?

It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.

Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.

But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.

“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.

He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.

“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”

Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.

Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.

“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.

“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”

Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”

“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.

She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”

-

Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.

Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.

“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.

“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.

“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”

He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”

Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”

“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting. 

She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.

Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?

It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.

Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.

He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does. 

-

She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.

-

Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.

She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”

“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”

“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”

“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”

Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.

Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.

“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”

She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.

-

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.

-

When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank.  She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.

So she settles on a quote:

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W

On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.

-

Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.

The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him. 

Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.

“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.

“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop. 

But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.

Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.

-

“D-Did I hurt you?”

Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish. 

She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her. 

Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.

You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”

Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.

Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.

“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”

When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away. 

She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.

-

Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.

-

Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.

You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.

“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.

“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical. 

Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.

“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience. 

She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.

“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.

She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.

She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.

-

Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.

In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.

She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.

-

Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.

“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.

A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.

“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”

You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.

And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.

She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you. 

“Wands?”

“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?” 

Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”

You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants.  She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.

-

She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.

Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”

“You hate cinemas,” she counters.

He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”

​​She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”

His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”

She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.

Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle. 

For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.

-

Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.

It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable. 

There's no way she can allow him to submit this.

His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.

“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.

Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”

She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”

“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”

“You never seemed to mind before.”

Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”

He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”

“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. 

“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”

Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.

“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”

She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”

Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”

“Vis—”

Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.

In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.

As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”

She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her. 

He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.

“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances. 

His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive. 

She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.

She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.

“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.

And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her. 

“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.

“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—

Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”

She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.

Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”

As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.

“Please, at least let me drive you to—”

“To where?” she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”

Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.

“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”

But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”

The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”

But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her. 

-

While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night. 

In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits. 

She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.

Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.

She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.

-

She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.

When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.

She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.

Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.

The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.

-

She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.

As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.

She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward. 

But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope. 

A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.

Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.

“Wanda?”

She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.

“Have you been crying?”

“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”

You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.

Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed. 

She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire. 

“Patience, baby.” 

She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”

And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much. 

“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.

Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?

Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.

“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.

You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”

Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.

[l3m0ngal5]

Multiverse may day 20

(Fulling with strength)

Charact name: Otsana Eirl

___________________________________________

This story starts with a little Wagon Attempting enter are town as the horse troted closer it was Suddenly attacked by by Antet the large ant Creature It's glow Was Intimidating as well as Enchanting, the ant Came from under the wagon Knocking it Into the air although it Was not fast enough To get out of the Way and it Landed on the Beautifully Intimidating Beast. "Antet" my Brothe boming voice calmed the insect The owner of the wagon ran out And started a song to heal Antet After she was done she almost fell over , but was caught " impressive I'm Voslo Kuznet" She seemed a little shocke but with a deep breath she Introduced herself" I am Otsana Eirl And This necklace is The pendant of ever wolf It allows me to heal People Although It makes me dizzy" His carm face smiled and asked " do you need help to the Village" A blush filled her face and she stutterd out a "n,no". The next day My Brother went hunting and Whilst she was Gathering Herbs her gasp Which distracted him and led to a cut she instantly Grabbed at his arm " Don't worry I'm Used to scratchis like this" she looked in to his eyes and Insist "you helped me yesterday so please let me help you" He nodded and she started her song After her healing he couldn't help but Question " How does it work" His eyes were Caught on the blue pendent as she esplanade "inside the Gem There is a wolf spirit that I can harness for its healing power But my body can't Seem to handle it I bet If I was as strong as you , I Doubt there's much that can overpower you" There was a long pause The two of them Just stared at each other until he finally spoke "honey, That Overpowered me I let myself Become dependent on it And lost myself Until there was only so little left, So you see It's not just Physical strength" thay smiled at each other , and Talked for a while Leading to him coming home with a smile Which is how I got involved. "You should court her" His Eyes remained away from me as he Denied my good advice " She is just a nice Maiden Passing through this village" I then may have Implied that I Would ask my Benjamin and dr champagne to Teach me how to make One of those 'powerpoints' That they used to Try and stop us from giving away our muvjwwt. But when I came back he was Not At home , but instead eating with Otsana. The Two of them went out to the forest every day , her gathering herbs and him hunting "Voslo I have to ask how do You cope with helping everyone" He Looked away While answering "I don't think about it often I Like helping people It's one of the only ways I can interact with them without being seen as intimidati", " Well , I guess it's working because I don't Find you intimidated You're strong but So is your heart" He finally looked at her and she looked at him The silence Consumed them in their peace. "You're haert is Equally strong I just wish you could see that" After he Came back from eating with her.He explained this Interaction to me and I then May have screamed That The Two of them were Destined to be together "Voslo You are my older brother.I just want you to be happy" His face softened with a sigh and I promise to talk to Think about it While he set up for the village festival, And he did He

Also continued to think Well into the festival. "Voslo" Otsana's Voice Pulled him from his mind as she Presented him with a small tart " I saw how All of the desserts had honey And decided That With all you've done for This festival You deserve at least a treat" The two once again talked the conversation Turning to places she had been " I've traveled far in my little Wagon hoping to find A place that makes me feel strong and happy as happy as this conversation makes me" Before their sweet conversation could continue , Entered the story, tayrun But as you were fussing over wellamans injurie What you didn't see was her panic as she Insisted " There's no way I could harness enough power to heal A cut like that" Luckily my calm strong brother was ther. He grabbed her arms And forced her eyes on to his "Otsana Your physical strength may not be The best but your heart Is one of the Strongest That's why you can do this" With a deep breath , she put her hands on Your dragon and started Sing We could The The pain she was feeling , and yet she kept sing Ignoring every Even the break of Her jeweler Her voice raised as Her Body was In case with a Wolf made of blue light A form that remained until The song's end where she landed On her feet which instantly failed her Leading to my brother once again Catching her from a Fall. I once again pulled my brother aside telling him that this was his last warnings that His Perfect made on was in front of him and Leaning The next day.

Later when the two of them Once again shared their meal She started a new conversation " I think I found the place I Was looking for I feel so Strong after that And happiness , this place is full of it And as for business , I have the Beast chronicla And his many dragons But also I will always be happy Two heal Any scratch you get wilst helping people" In a moment of Uncharacteristic panic Voslo Bluntly announce" I believe Our souls are intertwined" With no words , she just lay herself in his lap Causing questions to flood his mind She saw them in his eyes and giggled out the answer Without him Needing to ask "I'm Marking you with my sent" He once again didn't Instead choosing to Embrace Her And together they fell Into the calm the night.

(So, the funny thing about this to me is that I have a Main mvt oc, but this one off Oc x Canonical Character fic Came to me Like a vision and I had to write it down)

[mercysought]

@middener @fairb4nks . continued from here

She dressed in red because the vicomte enjoyed the colour on her. Said it brought up the shades in red on her hair, the green on her eyes. He would laugh and say that it even made her sing better. And she would laugh with him.

Red did look good on her; but red was not the colour she would have chosen to wear. It felt wrong, almost as wrong as being barefoot in the middle of a performance. Or while dealing business. Glancing in his direction upon hearing his voice, her eyes do not linger for long, they move towards the discarded boots though pause briefly in the hands that rested in front of his belt, the brief glimpse of red gives her pause but she continues, instead looking beyond him. Taking a moment to look around the floor, she confirms that the damage was minimal, some mud but hopefully the rest of the room would be spared. Still, she felt her mouth twist and a clicking of her tongue filled with a shadow of annoyance.

It was foolish perhaps, that she would consider such things. She had no wish to have anyone else in her room unless she needed it. And she did not wish to have to clean it herself.

Her eyes lift once more to his face, studying him in silence as her head turns to the desk. Brushes two papers aside, she grabs the small cigarette that had been left burning once she had heard the door open. Pulling in until she couldn't breathe anymore. Exhaling, he puts the small heeled slippers on. They disappear beneath the red dress when she gets up.

The templars would only stay away for so long, entertained by the wine and company with the guards - wondering where they could get a warm body to warm up theirs.

Placing the cigarette back down, the now empty hand drags itself over a piece of paper the size of her palm, kept deliberately separate from the rest. Turning the paper, she gives him one last glance, taking now more time on each of his features. She stops only when she reaches the edge of the carpet that he refused to step on. Perhaps it was unfair, that she should refuse to do business without shoes and would demand him to stand in the cold stone.

Dark eyes, strong jaw, dark hair. It was impressive what some portrait artists could do. There was a hint of a smile on this portrait which was absent on the man in front of her. But it was him. A half smile forms on her lips, now taking in his features more freely, tilting her head carefully as to not disturb the decorations upon her hair.

Turning the paper so that he would see its contents, his face looking back at him, she allows it close enough that he may grab it.

  "This is you, yes?" her voice is a husky hum. Turning the paper once more towards her, reading something upon the paper. In thin handwriting, at the bottom right of the portrait, it reads 'Lady Beaumont, Look for Fairbanks, in the Dales. He will help.' "Fairbanks?"

[just-a-random-steven-au-lol]

Chapter 3: Curiosity Peak

On the next day, Fionna is at the cafeteria of her college. She's still thinking about the encounter she had with that guy, Steven.

She's not sure if she should try to find him again or something like that, he just walked away after finishing drinking and didn't tell much more. She sighs and eats her food calmly.

Suddenly, she feels someone sitting next to her and hears a voice next to her. "Don't tell me I got a space in your mind."

Fionna nearly drops her fork in surprise, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of the voice. She looks up to find Steven sitting beside her, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he casually picks up a piece of her uneaten bread and takes a bite.

She stares at him, slightly flustered. "What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice betraying a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Shouldn't you be… I don't know, doing something else?"

Steven shrugs. "Nyeh, I thought on getting fully-high today, but I did that last night, so I decided to follow your track."

Fionna's eyebrows furrow in confusion, unsure of whether she should be annoyed or amused. "Follow my track? Are you stalking me now?"

Steven grins, unbothered. "Stalking is such a strong word. Let's call it... casual observation. I mean, you did make quite an impression on me last night." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at her with a knowing glint in his eyes. "I thought I'd see how the fearless Fionna spends her day after a wild night out."

Fionna can't help but laugh, despite herself. "You really are something else, aren't you?" She sets her fork down, leaning forward slightly. "But seriously, Steven... I didn't think I'd see you again. You kinda disappeared on me last night."

Steven smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement as he picks up another piece of her bread. "Well, I'm not the clingy type," he says nonchalantly, his tone light but with an underlying mystery. "Besides, I didn't exactly think you'd be waiting around for me to come back." He shrugs again, looking almost playful. "But here I am. Couldn't resist seeing how you'd react to me showing up."

Fionna narrows her eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. "You're really full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Hey, life's too short for boring encounters," Steven replies, leaning back in his chair, clearly unfazed by her questioning. "You seemed like the type to appreciate the unexpected." He pauses, his gaze softening for a moment. "Besides, you didn't exactly run away screaming last night. I'm curious to see how far your 'stubborn' attitude goes."

Fionna glances around the cafeteria, realizing that people are starting to notice the unusual presence at her table. She sighs inwardly, feeling a bit self-conscious but unwilling to let Steven off the hook. "I'm not one for drama, you know. And last night was definitely… unusual. But that doesn't mean I'm okay with you popping up out of nowhere like this."

Steven chuckles. "Fair enough. But if you didn't want me here, you'd've already gotten up and left, right?" He raises an eyebrow, challenging her. "You're still sitting here, so clearly, you're not as annoyed as you're pretending to be."

Fionna hesitates, her gaze lingering on him. She wants to be angry at the sudden intrusion, but there's something about Steven that makes her want to understand him more, something she can't quite explain. "I guess you've got a point." She says finally, her voice quieter. "But I don't get you, Steven. You're not like anyone I've ever met. Why are you even talking to me?"

Steven's grin faltered just a bit, and for a moment, something unguarded flickered in his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his tone dropping from playful to something more thoughtful.

"Maybe I don't know either." He admitted, studying her carefully. "But you didn't look at me like I was some kind of freak. Most people do. And that makes you... interesting."

Fionna felt her cheeks warm slightly but held his gaze. "So, what? You decided to hunt me down because I didn't scream and run? That's a pretty low bar."

Steven chuckled, the playful spark returning. "Fair point. But maybe it's more than that. Maybe I'm just curious. You seem... different. Most people wouldn't handle what you saw last night so well."

Fionna leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Curious, huh? Well, curiosity killed the cat. Or in your case, maybe something a little bigger."

Steven smirked. "Good thing I'm not a cat. Besides, you asked a lot of questions last night. Figured it's only fair I get to ask some too."

Fionna raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so now we're playing twenty questions?"

"Nah. Just one for now. Why didn't you run?"

His question caught her off guard. She opened her mouth, then closed it, considering. Why didn't she run? She should have. Any sane person would have. But instead, here she was, talking to him again.

"I guess... I don't know. Maybe I wanted to understand. Maybe I thought there was more to you than some guy with a rock in his head."

Steven's smile softened. "Diamond. It's a diamond. Makes me sound more valuable."

Fionna rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "Right. Diamond. Well, whatever it is, I figured there had to be a story behind it. People don't just end up like you for no reason."

Steven leaned back, watching her. "Smart girl. Most people don't bother thinking that far. But you're right. There's a story. Not sure you'd want to hear it, though. It's not exactly a bedtime tale."

Fionna shrugged. "Try me. I've heard worse."

Steven studied her for a long moment before smirking. "Not today. Gotta keep some mystery, don't I? But maybe... maybe I'll tell you a bit if you hang around."

Fionna sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

Steven laughed. "And yet, here you are. Starting to think you like impossible things."

Fionna couldn't help but shake her head, amused despite herself. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

Steven grinned, unbothered by her teasing. "I get that a lot." He leans back and stretches. "So, is there anything interesting I could know about you?"

Fionna was silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She wasn't used to people asking about her, and certainly not in such an intrusive, unexpected way. It felt different from all the times people had tried to be polite or ask the usual surface-level questions. But there was something about Steven's presence, the way he didn't shy away from the weird or the uncomfortable, that made her feel strangely at ease.

"Well," She began slowly, her eyes flicking over to the cafeteria tray in front of her. "I guess I'm studying physics, for one. Not exactly the most exciting thing to lead with, though." She hesitated, then looked back at him, her voice growing a little shy. "And I have this taste for anime and manga."

Steven raised an eyebrow and laughs. "So I'm talking to a weeb? Didn't expect that coming."

Fionna's face flushed at the unexpected comment, her initial embarrassment quickly giving way to a slight smirk. "Hey, don't knock it until you try it," she replied, crossing her arms. "Anime has some pretty deep stuff in it. You wouldn't get it."

Steven's grin only widened, and he leaned in slightly, as if considering her challenge. "A weeb with physics and anime? I think I've found a mystery of my own here." He shook his head. "Honestly, I would've pegged you as more of a straight-laced, textbook kind of person."

Fionna rolled her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, well, there's more to me than just equations and physics problems." She hesitated, then added. "And there's more to you than just a guy with a diamond in his head."

Steven chuckled, giving her a mock salute. "Fair point. You're one of the few who doesn't just see the weird shit and run." He sat back in his chair, regarding her with a renewed sense of interest. "Guess that makes us even, huh? A weeb and a jerk."

Fionna laughed, feeling a warm sense of connection with Steven despite the bizarre nature of their interactions. She'd never imagined that a conversation with someone like him could feel so natural, so easy, even in its strangeness.

"Yeah, I guess we're even." Fionna replied, feeling a little more comfortable in the moment. "But you're still not getting my bread."

Steven's eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for the last piece of her bread anyway. "Oh, I'm definitely getting the bread. This is just the beginning."

Fionna's laughter filled the space between them, but she couldn't help but roll her eyes as Steven grabbed the last piece of bread. She half-heartedly protested, but the playful glint in his eyes made it hard to stay mad. There was something about his easy confidence that was both frustrating and oddly comforting.

"Are you always this obnoxious?" She asked, her tone light but with a hint of challenge.

"Only when it's fun." Steven shot back, taking a slow bite of the bread as though savoring the victory.

Fionna leaned back in her chair, watching him. The cafeteria noise seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble. It felt strange, how easily the walls she usually built around herself were starting to crumble in his presence.

She took a deep breath. "So, what now? You're just gonna hang around and harass me every day?"

Steven laughs and stretches. "Yeah, that's a good idea. But I guess you got better things to do." He rises to his feet and stretches. "Can I see something on your hand?"

Fionna raised an eyebrow at Steven's request. "My hand? What for?"

Steven smirked, his gaze flicking to her hand resting on the table. "Just wanna see something."

Fionna hesitated for a moment before shrugging, figuring it wasn't worth making a big deal out of. She extended her hand toward him. "Fine. You're weird, though."

He grins and take her hand. He pulls a marker from the diamond and quickly write something on her hand before letting go of it. "There's my number. Call me if you want, but if I was you, I wouldn't. See ya, cutie." He turns around and walks away.

The moment Steven walks away, Fionna's mind races, her hand still tingling where his marker touched her skin. She stares at the number written in black ink across her palm, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Part of her is irritated by his cocky, unpredictable behavior, but another part is intrigued, curious about the mysterious person he's revealed himself to be, and unsure of what comes next.

She glances down at the number, as though it might hold some kind of answer. Her heart beats a little faster. Why had she let him do that? Why had she let him in this much already?

Fionna shakes her head and grabs her tray, pushing the confusing thoughts to the back of her mind. She has class in a few minutes, and she needs to focus. But as she walks across campus, her hand still feels warm from where Steven had touched it, and she wonders if she'll ever get the chance to make sense of him, or of what this weird connection could mean.

------------------------

Later that night, Fionna finds herself at her desk, trying to get through her assignments. But every time she looks at her phone, her eyes inevitably drift to the number Steven had written on her hand earlier. It's almost like it's calling to her.

She sighs and places the phone back down, focusing on her homework. But the thought of Steven, his unexpected presence in her life, his playful yet mysterious demeanor, keeps interrupting her thoughts. She stares at her phone for a moment before finally giving in.

With a reluctant breath, Fionna picks it up, unlocking the screen, and taps the number into a new message. Her fingers hover over the keyboard, uncertain of what to say.

"Hey, it's Fionna. You're a pain in the ass, but… I guess I'm curious about that story you mentioned."

She hesitates before sending, her heart pounding in her chest as if it were some huge step.

Almost immediately, the phone buzzes in her hand.

"Didnt expect you to actually text me"

"Im surprised lol"

"Meet me at the park midnight"

"Ill answer whatever you ask"

Fionna reads the messages twice, a mix of excitement and dread rising within her. She looks out of her window, seeing the moon hanging in the sky, and knows that tonight might be the night she finds out more about Steven's strange world.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[riseuplosers]

There is nothing to forgive

(chapter eight added scene pt 1)

The fireplace crackled and she couldn't help but turn to look at it. There had been a time she had revealed in the warmth of flames and ash, a time she had laughed and played with her sister in an attempt to calm her from one of her magical fits. 

A time she hadn't minded getting burnt, not when it was her sister who was scared.

"How's training going?" Dorian asked, leading the conversation. He leaned down and plucked a leftover cookie she had told the maids to leave moments before she retired to bed. "Any competitors giving you trouble?"

"No," she replied, trying to keep her voice void from emotion, " everything has been smooth sailing for the most part. Though..." She paused in thought.

There wasn't a need for him to hear her sad thoughts.

"Though?" he prompted.

"Though nothing. Training is fine." She looked away, eyes roaming the room. Her wrist felt prickly and she knew it was from the way she had been sitting on it.

Not daring to move it, she looked back at the prince. His lips were thinned, eyes welcoming.

"Is someone giving you a hard time? Are they bothering you?"

Annoyance sat in her gaze as she looked back over at him, "Yes, and his name rhymes with Torian."

"Oh, I know him! A lovely fellow. He's quite charming."

There was little energy inside of her to deal with his remarks, much less his playful grin that made her heart do strange things.

"You're scowling again," Dorian pointed out.

She could hear the concern in his voice, though she didn't know if it was because he was concerned for her or for the champion he needed for his victory in the competition.

She couldn't help the sigh that left her lips.

"It's nothing I can't deal with." 

"I have no doubt in your skills," Dorian frowned, "but that doesn't mean you have to do everything alone. I am your sponsor after all."

"I like to think I'm quite good at taking care of myself," She narrowed her eyes in challenge "Have I given you the impression I can't?"

"Quite the opposite, lovely. You and Celaena are the most deadly women I've ever had the privilege of encountering," he leaned forward with a twinkle in his eyes. "I've just sort of joined in. Consider me generous. Let me help."

She chewed on her lip in thought. "It isn't a big deal, it's just..."

It would probably have been a good idea to bring up her hands. The pain that resided in them every morning when she prepared for the day. The way she had healers tending to them nearly every night because she pushed herself too hard that day, trying to prove herself.

Not necessarily to Chaol or to Cain or to any other imbecile that scrutinized her and Celaena.

To herself.

To prove that she could still do this. That she was still strong enough.

Instead, she lied.

Like she had done for years whenever she was backed into a corner. She lied and lied until she was left alone or until she could flee.

But the best lies were often spun with truth so she answered with, "I have nightmares often. Different things mostly, but now... I refuse to go back to those mines. I refuse for Celaena to go back. Maybe that makes me dangerous, I don't care but we're not going back." 

She was all too aware of the way his eyes flickered across her own, down her nose. 

He couldn't possibly be looking at her lips. 

Could he?

"You won't."

He made it almost sound like a vow. 

She gave a grimace, fingers twitching as she shifted, "You can't be sure of that."

"I am." He leaned back against the couch, an easy smile stretching across his lips. "You've come too far to lose now. Besides, I have a great sense of character."

"And about as big of a head as Celaena."

"You wound me, love" Dorian closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the back of the couch, "I was told I have a pretty head."

She snickered and he opened a lazy eye to inspect her. "I'm not sure who's been lying to you, but you should fire them."

"How rude."

"As my mother used to say, the truth seldom comforts our feelings."

"Remarkably smart your mother is."

Mia grinned at that, a sad smile but one that held memories of sunlight and warmth. "Yes, she was."

Dorian grew quiet at that, no doubt remembering the report that Chaol had given him about the twins. About their parents. Instead of allowing the heavy silence that had followed to settle into the room, she continued, "Though Celaena takes a little bit after our father."

"Strong?"

"Arrogant."

They chuckled together as she explained, "Celaena is one of the most arrogant beings I've ever met, but seeing her skill, there isn't much question as to why."

Dorian had a thoughtful expression on his face. He crossed his ankle over his knee, tapping the cushion. 

"You talk about your sister a lot. You respect her."

Mia nodded, "I told you before, she's all I have."

"You didn't have any friends? No honor among thieves?"

A chuckle made its way past her lips as she shook her head, too distracted to continue her book. "The life I lived left very little room for trust and friendship. But...there was one. I ended up trusting him more than I trusted myself."

Dorian lifted his head, sapphire eyes gleaming with interest. "Did you love him?"

She nodded, "Not in the way you're implying, but yes I did love him. He became someone I had looked up to, a brother of sorts, if you will."

A certain heaviness sat on her heart when thinking about Sam.

"He died," Letting out a breath, she continued, "He died and some part of me blames myself. Why didn't I stop it? Why wasn't I fast enough? Why wasn't I smart enough to know that..."

Shaking her head she blinked away the tears that hurt her eyes. "So many questions jumble together and I just can't help but feel like his death was my fault. It was sudden too. I lost him quicker than I could have imagined and then I lost Celaena when we were put in the mines."

"I'm sorry." His voice was heavy, soothing as he said, "I'm sorry because of the mines. Because of the order my father gave that ... no one deserves that."

"Yeah," she said softly, voice barely above a whisper, "me too."

Heavy silence settled around them. She wanted to say something, anything really to tell him it wasn't his fault. That he hadn't played apart in any of it.

But silence was easier than words, easier than formulating what her heart had been speaking.

She glanced back at her book, at the sentences that jumbled together and the world of make believe that was safer than her own. 

"You must hate me," he muttered finally, catching her attention, "Me and my court. For bringing you here, for placing you in front of my father, and for not doing anything for the lives my father so hazardously destroys."

She was silent at that. Never would she have guessed that she would receive acknowledgement, from the Crown Prince of Adarlan much less.

Waving a hand she offered, "It isn't your fault."

Dorian shook his head then. There was something dangerous in his eyes as he stood. Holding her breath, she watched stiffly as he made his way around the table and sat beside her, taking her hand in his own.

Her eyes grew wide when realizing what she had done.

Fighting the urge to yank her hand back to herself and run far away screaming, she breathed heavily, eyes roaming the scars that marred her hands. 

But Dorian didn't look at them, his eyes hadn't even glanced down from her own.

A finger brushed against the back of her hand and she shivered. 

Had he always been this alluring?

The blue in his eyes were beautiful, a shade she had wanted to paint and replicate, though somehow knew she'd come up short.

Dark brows scrunched together and she had chided herself on the impulsive thought that had wanted to touch it.

"I hadn't thought of the reason why you did what you did. Why you and your sister participated in things you had. We were told that criminals were criminals because of the bad things they had done, but no one had ever stopped to ask why."

She froze as he glanced down, eyes roaming her hand.

He didn't flinch.

He didn't flinch.

Instead he used his other hand and grasped her other wrist before bringing her palms up to his lips.

Letting out a breath that had stuck its way in her throat, she fought the sting in her eyes.

"I read about what my father had done to you. What you had to endure. For that, I will always be sorry. There is nothing I can say that will right the injustice that has happened. No one deserves to be whipped like an animal. You certainly didn't."

"Many would disagree." Her throat seemed to tighten.

"Chaol told me you hailed from Terresan, that you had been there when my father had..." He blinked, a furious look in his eyes. "My father and country have done so much to you. I had once asked myself why the Sardothien twins had pillaged my kingdom the way they had but now I understand."

His hands tightened against her own and she reveled in the feeling of his skin against her own.

"I am sorry, Miandia. For my part in it all. Truly."

She was silent at that. Never would she have guessed that she would receive an apology, from the Crown Prince of Adarlan much less. 

"There's nothing to forgive." She paused, trying to find the right words. Her heart stirred and she found herself saying in nothing more than a soft tone, "I don't hate you."

The clock struck midnight before she could say anything else. He was quiet as he surveyed her, eyes roaming her face for any kind of lie. After finding nothing but sincerity, he bowed his head and stood.

"I should get going, you have a test tomorrow."

Murmuring in agreement she trailed after him to the door. 

Silence encompassed them as they got closer to the door leading into the hallway. Just as she thought he would open it and leave, he hesitated. 

A hand rested on the handle before he spun, an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked. There was sort of a desperate sound to the question he posed. "Why don't you hate me, I haven't done anything too..."

As he trailed off she shrugged. There were a lot of reasons she couldn't find it in herself to hate him. 

She enjoyed his company, enjoyed the intelligence that sat behind his eyes.

Yes, there was a time she had wished to kill him, but there was something there that told her he would make for a great king. 

Something far greater than his father could ever be. 

She saw potential and good in his heart, in the way he spoke and the decisions he made. In the way he carried himself and the way he cared for those that served under him.

She had observed him, much to her own chagrin. She hadn't meant too, but somehow her eyes had clung to him whenever he appeared, causing her to realize the relationships he had with his people. 

He cared for them greatly.

Her mother had once taught her that you would know what kind of person a man is by the way he treats his people.

When she looked at Dorian, she saw someone good.

Someone who was trying with what hand of cards he was given. She saw something that she could only wish to become like. 

But instead of saying any of that, she settled on something else that had merely caused her heart to stir.

"Because you didn't flinch."

Something came to life and was laid to rest in his gaze. Reaching forward, she laid her hand in his outstretched palm. Brining it up, he pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles, the place that had been the most horrific to look at.

"My clever thief," he murmured against her skin. Warmth spread across her face and down her neck. Pulling away, his lips tugged upward. "I look forward to your performance tomorrow. Good night, Miandia."

That was the first time he had said her name that night and a small part of herself shivered. 

"Rest well, your majesty." She replied, watching as he gave a heart throbbing grin before turning and walking away.

After watching her door close, she took a step forward and listened as his footsteps faded. Turning, she fell against the door, sinking to the ground as she wondered just what exactly she had gotten herself into.

[midsummernight13]

A Lecture on Ceremorphosis

Her first night in the wilds, Ren is subjected to a lecture on the changes the mindflayer parasite should be putting her through.

Gale didn’t so much as glance in her direction as Ren approached, (a bit rude, she thought, considering he'd been the one to call her over) too absorbed with studying his mirror image. The illusion tilted its head and shifted in perfect sync with its caster, and when Gale did deign to acknowledge her presence the not-Gale spoke too, its voice overlapping with his in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Be with you in a moment."

Of course a wizard couldn't simply look at their reflection in a lake ten feet from them, they had to go about it in the most unsettling way possible. Ren suppressed a shudder and crossed her arms. "Neat trick," she said.

Gale glanced over his shoulder, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Not a trick, magic." He turned his attention back to the illusion, studying it for a moment longer before dismissing it with a wave of his hand. The not-Gale disappeared in a burst of purple light, and Gale turned to her with a serious expression.

"You told Nettie there was nothing odd about our tadpoles."

The statement caught Ren off guard. "I did," she said, suddenly feeling very cautious. She didn't like the way the wizard was looking at her. His expression made her feel like she was a child again, about to be lectured for whatever mischief she'd fallen into. "Why?"

"Because there is something strange about our tadpoles," Gale said. "What do you know about ceremorphosis?"

Ren thought back to the woman they'd found back on the Nautaloid, shortly after she and the githyanki had freed Shadowheart from her pod, and the botched attempted to help her. She'd heard rather than seen the poor soul's transformation, but the sound of her body tearing itself apart and rearranging into an illithid had left a strong impression. 

"I know it's incredibly painful," she said finally. "Which is all I really need to know."

"There is much more to it than pain. Day one," Gale began counting down, ticking his points off on his fingers as he spoke, "fever and memory loss. Day two, hallucinations and graying skin. Day three, hair loss, and blood leaking from all orifices. Need I go on?"

"I suspect you will whether I want you to or not."

The grin she got in return didn't reach his eyes. "Day four is where the real pain starts, as the skeleton and organs start to disolve and rearrange themselves. Day five, the host's personality disappears and their limbs begin to elongate. Day six the flesh around the mouth splits to make way for tentacles, and finally day seven: a mindflayer is born."

"Not the most pleasant of pictures," Ren drawled. She paused, sorting through the information he'd thrust upon her to get to whatever point he'd been trying to make.

"We should have a fever by now," she said, "and probably graying skin as well."

"Exactly right.Yet our thoughts are coherent, our orifices are blissfully unbloodied, and our blood temperature normal. Any expert would agree that this is…abnormal."

The idea that not only was there a mindflayer worm nestled in her brain, but that worm was in fact some sort of mutant did nothing to ease the dread she'd carefully boxed away since she'd first stepped out of the mindflayer pod. Ren crossed her arms, as if the simple gesture could keep the emotion in check and regarded Gale carefully.

"Alright then," she said. "You’re the alleged expert; why do you think we aren't changing?"

"It's not alleged expertise if you've actually done the studying." Gale actually sounded terse; it seemed Ren had managed to hit a nerve. The satisfaction she got from finding a crack in his self-assured facade was short lived however, as Gale sighed and said, "Sadly this is where my knowledge falls short. I'm sure that others would would be quick to label this a miracle or luck but as a pragmatist I only see the calm before the storm." He shook his head as though to clear it. "Just something to think on. We should get some rest."

The dismissal was obvious, and Ren was glad for it. The last thing she needed was the wizard picking up on how much his theories on altered tadpoles and vague portent of doom had rattled her.

[rexisan]

I went off I am so sorry.

He ran. He had to. He couldn't face her not with everyone else present. They couldn't see what he became in front of them.

He scrambled to his room, blind with panic, deaf to the cacophony growing behind him. They couldn't see.

The boys stared after Tim frozen in place. Their Timmy was a lot of things, their Tim did not run with his eyes glazed in terror like that.

A woman stepped from behind Jack, her eyes the same shade of blue as their Tim's, but where Tim's burned with conviction or playfulness or ire, there was only ice in her eyes, flat, cold distance. She was proper, shoulders back, spine straight, even Alfred would have been impressed with her impeccable put together look. She wasn't looking at them, she was looking past them where their Tim had ran.

"I thought we helped him quell that instinct long ago," she pursed her lips just so with displeasure. "We'll help him again."

"He didn't even acknowledge me," Jack muttered to no one and Janet paid him no heed. But raised an imperious eyebrow when Jason took one step towards him, Dick put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jay, take Dami, go to him, now."

Jason bared his teeth looking to Dick only to pause, it had been a long time since he'd seen Dickie like this. Smile unnaturally sharp, eyes unwavering from their target. Shame he wouldn't see the bloodbath. But he had a babybird to protect.

He nodded grabbing Damian's shoulder and pulling him along, "Cmon brat."

They left Dick behind, his hands behind his back, shoulders straight, smiling murder.

Tim shoved himself in the corner of his room, between the dresser and wall staring straight ahead, waiting for the light to shift, waiting and dreading. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, his breathing shallow and quick, his hands gripped his knees so tight he could hear the fabric straining. The light shifted and he choked on a noise. Unable to look away as the light shifted again. He froze, staring ahead unseeing. Until not blue eyes, blue like his own but lacking any light, but green, green green eyes.

He couldn't understand the words but the tone was low and rumbling and soothed some part of him. He didn't feel himself being maneuvered out until he felt small but strong strong arms wrapped around him tight. Holding him close. When did he start shaking?

"They won't touch you again."

Dick waited until he heard the door click shut before staring at the two people in front of him. Bloodthirsty, but polite, smile on his face. He knew those two would calm Tim down well enough, for now he was going to do something he'd been dreaming of, ever since he saw Tim jump at a certain tone of voice. Not Batman's growl, not a villain's cackle, but a cold tone of disdain. And it wasn't even directed at him.

"Move aside and let me see my son."

"No, because as far as I'm concerned, he's nothing of yours, Mrs Drake. You carried him for some time and that is all."

"Grayson you shut your-"

"Jack I'd suggest you shut your worthless yammering mouth before it meets my fist."

Jack spluttered moving to take a step but being stopped by a perfectly manicured hand.

"Timothy is my son."

"No, Tim is my baby brother. He is not your pawn, he is not your doll, he is not something to be polished and shown off like a gem at parties and sold to the next highest bidder. Oh Janet you truly should have kept those emails better hidden. Does Jack even know?"

Dick briefly flicked his eyes to Jack Drake, giving him a cursory once over. Jack puffed his chest to defend himself.

"I'd think not, he's not the brightest bulb, it's truly a miracle you managed to pass Tim off as his you know, Tim is truly nothing like this pompous arrogant weak willed thing. He does take after you, in looks at least. But the rest," he whistles lowly. "Well both of us know where the rest comes from."

Janet's eyes narrowed, jaw clenching slightly, "He's still my son."

"No, my baby brother is mine. You carried him and left him, and when you came to him you made him feel less than. What you are going to do, is turn around and leave, and if I ever see you darken his life again, nothing will keep me from burning your names so no one will come within 50 feet of you. Now leave."

Jack stepped forward swinging wide and Dick let him, and simply caught his fist and squeezed. Jack blanched stumbling back.

"The only good thing you did was taking him to the circus that night and letting him get his first hug from me. Now go."

He watched, posture perfect as the two Drakes turned and left, heels clicking mutterings being exchanged between them. He once more waited until the door clicked before turning on his heel and going to Tim's room.

Tim was bundled in his childhood bed, Damian gripping him tightly beside him, Jason holding his face talking to him. But his eyes snapped to Dick once he walked in.

Eyes Dick remembers being bright and full of wonder at four years old, looking at him like he was the best thing in the world. And now he saw as those eyes filled with tears and Dicks heart broke even more.

Never again would those two call themselves his family. All the family Tim needed was here now.

"Cmon babybird," he tried to soothe. "Let's get you home."

Jason pressed a kiss to his forehead, Damian gave a tight squeeze, and Dick scooped him up in his arms. Never wanting to let him go again.

Jack looked at his son. This was his son? There wasn't any way in hell that this pathetic little kid was his son.

"Timothy."

"Jack."

Jason spoke before Tim did. That was a mistake.

"I addressed him."

He scolded. He was pointing to Tim. This was going to get ugly.

"Father."

He wanted to shrivel away from him, from the dark shadow standing in front of him.

Everything Jack said went over his head. He didn't hear a single word.

"Tim?"

Dick's voice sounded from somewhere behind him. It was difficult to hear.

"Timber?"

"Drake?"

Damian snapped in his face. Trying to bring him back. He was looking into space.

"What's going on?"

Janet's voice boomed. Suddenly Tim was back. But there was a look in his eyes, he was afraid. No... Afraid wasn't the right word.

He was terrified. He shifted. Trying to put as much space between himself and Janet as possible.

"I'm going to my room."

[captains-simp]

Wanda Maximoff ~ Fake It Till You Make It

Wanda version of this fic as requested by @yeetus-thyself

7.7k words

Warnings: shitty family and homophobia

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Pleeaasse, Wan" You pouted once again. You had been begging Wanda for the favour for an hour now; her stubborness was proving hard to overcome.

"I'm busy." Wanda said, her accent strong as she walked around her appartment to collect things for her next mission.

"But will you be busy on the 10th?" You asked from the couch where you watched her disappear into various rooms as she talked.

"I thought you said it was a few days." Wanda quipped, seemingly only giving you half her attention.

"It is." You confirmed with some hope.

"So I'd need to clear my schedule for more than just the 10th." You huffed and rested your head on the back of couch.

"Yes you would. I'm sure Natasha can manage without you for a few days."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." She muttered.

"Please, Wan." You tried. "I need a win." Wanda stopped by the kitchen counter and gave you a long, considering look. You had long given up on your puppy dog eyes and instead copied her expression as you chewed on your bottom lip.

"I'll think about it." Wanda finally said before grabbing something from the cupboard. It was the best response you had gotten all night and you knew you wouldn't get anything more. So you accepted it and hoped for the best.

Your parents had invited you to their cabin for a few days just like they did every year. It was a beautiful place. You could spend your whole visit in the forest along the back. Or swimming in the clear lake that was a short walk away. The cabin itself was the cosiest place you had ever been and had been where some of your best memories had happened as a kid.

As you got older things changed. Being around your family, especially your parents, wasn't as enjoyable. They had high expectations for their children, expectations that your siblings had met without a problem but ones that you had struggled with. You enjoyed your life. You had the kind of relationships you had always hoped for, you loved your job and you had the perfect balance of the two. But you could never shake the feeling that you had failed.

Your brother was a surgeon who always told you all stories of the lives he saved and the close calls he had swooped in to save people from. One of your sisters was some hot shot lawyer who had done great things like help people wrongly convicted but still put dangerous people back on the street. And your other sister was the CEO of an energy company that you never quite understood. They even all had equally successful partners who loved to talk about themselves as much as your siblings did. You didn't have any of that. But you did have Wanda.

Knowing the Avengers was the only thing about you your family took interest in. They were always subtly hinting at wanting to meet your friends. But you knew the Avengers had to endure enough fan service and didn't want to push your family onto them, especially with how annoying they all were.

However as your family's unrealistic expectations reached their all time high you were sure you wouldn't be able to handle another trip with them without a win, and you were far too petty to take the moral high ground and just not go. Not to mention that was a huge part of you that was dying to see what the Wanda girlfriend experience would entail. Yep, that was what you were asking of Wanda. To pretend to be your partner for the duration of the trip.

You knew it wasn't a smart choice. That if Wanda agreed your crush on her could get out of hand. You knew you would end up getting too caught up in the act. You could have, no - should have - asked Natasha or Yelena or even Carol if she was around. But your family knew you were the closest with Wanda and she would be the one it felt the most natural with, and the most believable. At least, that was what you told Wanda.

"When are you going?" You asked, changing the subject in hopes that Wanda wouldn't suddenly conclude she didn't want to do it (then you really would have to ask one of the others).

"Tomorrow." She answered, keeping her focused tone.

"When will you be back?" You attempted to keep the concern out of your voice but the glance the redhead gave you told you you hadn't done a good job.

"The day after." She said, softer this time. You nodded as you looked down at your lap and tried not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong on her mission.

"Be safe." Wanda strolled over to you and placed her hand gently ontop of yours and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Always."

*

"Got any plans Saturday night?" Natasha smirked knowingly at her friend as they preped for their mission.

"No." Wanda replied as she adjusted her earpiece.

"Nothing with y/n then?" Nat asked, partly genuinely but mostly knowing Wanda would still say no.

"Nope." She said again, biting the inside of her cheek in consideration before speaking again. "Not this Saturday."

Natasha raised an eyebrow in surprise and interest. Wanda rarely made any kind of special plans with you as you would always hang out casual and it was never anything fancy or different. She had always wanted to though.

"Plans for another time?" Nat continued as she double checked her pack.

"Maybe, I'm still thinking about it." The redhead turned fully to her friend at her words, confused at why Wanda was hesitant to spend time with you. "She wants me to go to the cabin with her and her family." Nat had heard all about the infamous cabin and your family.

"That sounds fun." Nat nodded. The cabin sounded fun. Your family did not.

"As her girlfriend." Nat's eyes widened excitedly but before she could speak Wanda clarified. "Her pretend girlfriend."

Nat paused and looked as though she was going to speak for several seconds until she stuck to just giving a confused look.

"Yeah." Wanda sighed. "Thinks it would seem impressive." Wanda had tried not to be hurt over that. She knew you weren't just friends with her to show her off to people, because you never did. But it hurt her to think the only time you could see her in a romantic way was when you were pretending.

"Well," Nat muttered as she adjusted the zip along the front of her catsuit. "Fake it till you make it." It was Wanda's turn to give Nat a questioning look. "Maybe it'll be an eye opener for her."

"You think I should do it?" She asked, fully open to hearing and accepting her friend and mentor's advice in that area.

"Definelty." Nat confirmed. She wasn't sure about it for the reasons she said though. Wanda's crush on you was obvious to everyone except you, just as it was vice versa.

*

You had been overjoyed when Wanda told you she would come with you to the cabin and play along as your girlfriend. She had told you when she came back from her mission, in fact it was the first thing she said after she had let herself into your appartment. It was never really brought up after that, but you couldn't deny you were incredibly anxious on the week leading up to the visit.

On the drive up to the cabin you and Wanda stayed in a comfortable silence most of the time, clearly both lost in thought. You had the radio on for background noise more than anything else, but you would occasionally lightly tap the steering wheel if there was a tune you recognised, oblivious to Wanda's acknowledging smiles.

"So what's the plan?" Wanda asked as she looked at you expectantly. Right, of course the Avenger wanted a strategy.

"Keep things simple, I guess. They know how we met already so we can just say at some point we took things a step further than friendship." Wanda didn't seem convinced at the simplicity of that. "Look they're not going to want to hear about us, not much at least. They prefer the sound of their own voices, they'll be trying to impress you is all."

"Impress me?" Wanda asked.

"Yeah, hope you warm up to them so one day they can invite you to their snobby parties." Wanda chuckled her heart warming laugh as she glanced out of the window, knowing there was a lot of truth to what you said.

"And what are those like?" She enquired curiously.

"I wouldn't know, I've never been invited." You said simply. You had gotten over that a long time ago, gotten used to being forgotten. Wanda clearly hadn't though.

"It will be an honour to turn them down." Wanda said. You shook your head and smiled at her. That did sound pretty nice.

When the cabin came into sight between the trees your nerves spiked. You figited in your seat and bit your lip when you saw some of your family gathered outside, their attention instantly on you. You shot Wanda a quick smile which she returned before you got out of the car.

"Y/n! So nice of you to come." You mum said as her eyes flickered to Wanda more than you. She opened her arms for the shortiest hug in human history before turning to Wanda. "You must be Wanda, we've heard so much." You mum insisted as she brought the redhead in for a hug too. She raised her eyebrows at you over your mum's shoulder and you bite back a laugh.

The others came over to greet you and mainly Wanda in a rush, overwhelming both of you.

"You two will be in the upstairs bedroom on the left." Your mum told you as you went to grab your bags. You did a double take, convinced you had heard her wrong. That was the best room in the house. A big difference from being in the small room in the basement every other time you had been there.

"First one on the left." Your dad confirmed. There was no way your parents were going to be in the basement so you wondered who else had been moved around but didn't ask, knowing whoever it was wasn't going to be happy.

You and Wanda made your way up to the room and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the spacious room and the door you knew led to your en suite.

"That was...a lot." Wanda summarised as she said her bag under the bed.

"I would tell you it gets better but I don't want to get your hopes up." You sighed as you got a couple of things out.

"It's just a few days." Wanda said despite the fact you should have been assuring her.

"Yeah." You nodded and stared down at the floor. "Now c'mon." You suddenly said as you took ahold of Wanda's hand and laced your fingers together. You missed the startled blush that crept onto her cheeks when you turned around.

Your family were sat outside whispering amongst themselves when you returned. Their interested gaze fell to your entwined hands in an instant.

"So you work with the Avengers?" Your brother, Dalton, said as soon as you both sat down.

"I do, I'm one myself." Wanda said as she continued to hold onto your hand.

"Must be crazy, what are they like?" He enquired.

"They're good." Wanda said simply. Everyone clearly expected something more but Wanda pretended not to notice making you smile.

"I almost did business with Stark once, decided against it in the end." Claire announced proudly. You and Wanda exchanged knowing glances. Stark had told you all about his encounter with your sister, it definetly wasn't her turning him down.

"I was invited to one of his parties." Anna said quickly. "I was busy that night unfortunately."

Bull. Shit.

"Yes I remember working with Doctor Strange when he was still in the medical profession." You gave Wanda an I-told-you-so look as your family erupted into conversation over who had the most contact with the heroes. That had to be a new record of how quickly they started talking about themselves.

They continued like that until your mum called everyone in for dinner. The food smelt undeniably amazing as you took your place at the table next to Wanda and eyed the dishes infront of you. Your parents efforts to impress the redhead weren't all that bad.

Your family continued to catch up and and you and Wanda half listened as you ate. They were all doing as well for themselves as ever and still hadn't learnt any modesty.

Although you were proud of your siblings for what they had all achieved, Wanda had contained four potentially devastating bombs from going off in the space of half an hour a week before but she wasn't going to bring that up anytime soon. Eventually though, the attention turned to you to bring you out of your silence.

"And you're still working in that little café, y/n?" Your mum asked curiously.

"I own it, mum." You corrected quietly as you stabbed some pieces on your plate.

"Ah yes, quite the contrast though, isn't it. Between you two." She said as she pointed at you and Wanda with her fork. You didn't say anything to that because you felt there really wasn't anything to say in response. It wasn't like you hadn't thought that exact thing every now and then.

"The team loves it." Wanda said suddenly making everyone, including you, look at her in slight surprise from speaking up. It hadn't taken your family long to learn Wabda wasn't much of a talker, not to them anyway. You couldn't get her to shut up half the time. "At least one of us goes everyday. If we're lucky we all can. Nothing beats it." She defended simply before turning back to her food to show she wasn't going to say anymore. You smiled down at your plate at her words and the truth of them.

No one said anything in response, clearly shocked from this new information until Dalton spoke up.

"But doesn't Stark like fancy, top of the line, restaurants? I can't imagine him in some random coffee shop, no offence sis." He nodded towards you though you knew he didn't mean it. He couldn't let you have just one win.

"That random coffee shop has catered some of Stark's parties. Not that many though." A smug smile crept onto Dalton's face as he opened his mouth to make a snarky remark but Wanda cut him down again. "Because y/n's invited to the rest as a guest and a close friend." Your family stared at you with open mouths.

"You've been invited to Stark's parties?!" Anna exclaimed. In your defence, your family never wanted to hear about your life so you never got the chance to tell them anything.

"It's not really my crowd." You shrugged. "I just go to hang out with them after." Dalton's jaw clenched in annoyance and he didn't say anything for the rest of dinner. It was only really your mum who kept talking. Telling everyone about her latest travels that fell on death ears.

It was certainly a first for your family.

When everyone had finished their food you and Wanda excused yourselves and said goodnight before retiring to your room. Wanda shut the door gently as you collapsed onto the bed on your back and glared at the ceiling. The redhead shuffled around quietly to get her toothbrush and toothpaste and some other things you weren't really paying attention to and went into the bathroom.

When she came back out she was in her bedclothes and lifted your feet off the floor to turn you so you could fully lay on the bed. You smiled at her weakly.

"You should go get changed." Wanda said as she got her laptop out her bag. "Then you can pick a movie." She announced when she had gotten under the covers and started her laptop. You smiled more and nodded.

You tried not to think about your family and everything they had said at dinner as you got changed but it proved difficult. Everything they had said echoed around in your head but most of all you couldn't shake the disregarding ways they said it. It was as though you could do no right with them. Maybe they would never be proud no matter what you did.

You placed your toothbrush back I'm the holder and rinsed your mouth before heading back into the bedroom to an awaiting Wanda.

You got under the covers next to her and rested your head on her shoulder as you glanced at the Netflix screen and pointed to one of the comedy movies.

About ten minutes into the movie Wanda spoke. "You okay?" She whispered as she continued to look at the screen although that wasn't where her focus was.

"Yeah." You whispered back.

"You can talk to me." She said after a second." You moved your head away so you could see Wanda clearly.

"I'm so glad you're here." You said honestly. She smiled and nodded as her eyes searched yours.

"I'm glad I'm here too." You knew Wanda wasn't glad she had to spend the time with your family. She was glad that she could support you despite their efforts to bring you down. You were incredibly lucky to have her.

You rested your head back on her shoulder and neither of you spoke for the rest of the movie. Or the rest of the night. You must have fallen asleep about half an hour in.

*

Wanda was one of the most intimate people you had ever met. It was mainly something she aimed towards you and Natasha but didn't refrain from comforting others and giving hugs to anyone who would take one. She never held back at all with you, as far as you knew. But when you woke up and couldn't tell where your limbs started and Wanda's ended, you were still surprised to find yourselves like that. Butterflies flew around in your stomach in a way you knew was dangerous but couldn't help but love.

You were resting your head on her rising chest and had your arm slung across her stomach. Your legs were tangled together and her arms were holding onto your waist. A warmth spread through you and you decided to settle back into her hold and closed your eyes with a content smile.

You had about ten minutes to enjoy that before Wanda woke up. You could feel the moment she realized you were so close, she physically froze. You waited in anticipation for something for several moments until your friend very slowly unhooked her legs and guided your body to lay against the mattress and pillows as she slipped out of bed towards the bathroom.

You sighed when you heard the door close and rubbed your eyes slowly, knowing you should get up but wishing more than anything that you could return to how you woke up.

"Morning." Wanda croaked when she left the bathroom and saw you sitting up in bed.

"Morning." You said back with a smile and tried not to focus on how ridiculously attractive her voice sounded.

You gathered some random clothes into a bundle and went into the bathroom to change again and brush your teeth. When you came out Wanda was pulling her shirt over her head and gave you a generous view of her toned stomach. That training with Natasha really was paying off. Your face heated up when you saw it and you turned away to pretend you hadn't seen when Wanda noticed you.

"Don't make a sound." Wanda warned. You glanced up at her with some confusion. "I don't think your family's awake yet, that means we get the kitchen to ourselves." She grinned and you did too.

You and Wanda had gotten so used to getting up early for your jobs you forgot other people would still be sleeping. It was hard to break out of the habit but it proved useful.

The pair of you made a quick breakfast and ate it outside thanks to the warm weather even at that time. But soon enough your parents came downstairs and ruined the peaceful atmosphere with the clanging of pots and loud convosations.

You wandered around the side of the house and saw the old table tennis table that bad been folded away years ago and hadn't been set up since. You went over and started setting it up when Wanda joined you and eyed the table with a glimmer of mischief.

The redhead wasn't all that competitive, in fact you were pretty sure she let other people win games on the regular to make them feel better about themselves. But there was an undeniable spark of mischief in her eyes when she saw the table.

"You played this before?" You asked convosationally.

"I have." She said as you both automatically took up your positions of opposite ends of the table.

"Me too." You said confidently. "A lot." Wanda hummed in acknowledgment and swivelled her bat in her hand and stood ready. You smiled at her seriousness for the game.

You served surprisingly well for someone who hadn't played in a few years and Wanda was able to hit it back with ease. Once you had developed a steady pace you started hitting the ball more daringly to Wanda who was caught off guard before she started doing the same.

The moment you missed the ball a small smile tugged at the corner of Wanda's lips, her celebration was short lived when you suddenly sent the ball back her way until it was too late.

"That wasn't fair!" She exclaimed childishly.

"That was tables tennis." You said seriously but started smiling again.

Wanda huffed dramatically and flipped you off as she trudged back to the table and served the ball with force. You managed to send it back but took a step away from the table in caution.

You continued like that for a while. The competition tension rising as you picked up the pace, one of you occasionally getting a point before the other evened it out.

At one point you were vaguely aware of Dalton sauntering over to see what you were doing and arched his brow at the sight of the table.

"We still have this thing?" He questioned and you hummed quietly in response, too focused on the game.

"Hey Claire! Get over here, we're playing table tennis." You rolled your eyes at the intrusive and could sense Wanda refraining from doing the same until an idea popped into your head.

You caught the ball in your hand and smiled at Wanda's protests as you moved round to her side of the table just as your sister came out.

"I didn't even know we still had this." Claire laughed as she picked up another bat from the box.

"Maybe we should take it back with us." Wanda whispered to you and you bit your lip to contain your smile because yes, yes you should.

Inevitably, your siblings sucked at table tennis. You had suspected as much you just never thought they would be as bad as they were. They missed almost every hit and everytime they did they got increasingly angry, which meant they ended up flaring their arms around like idiots. It was a memory you would be sure to treasure.

"Stupid game" and "probably broken" kept echoing across the table until your siblings finally stormed off to throw a tantrum.

The rest of the day went by quietly. You and Wanda sat by the lake for most of the afternoon to enjoy the sun and heat. You reveled in the most recent memories of your siblings embarrassment and had to keep hushing down to childish whispered whenever one of them was nearby.

Surprisingly, dinner went by peacefully too.

You weren't asked anymore questions at the table. Instead, your family were content with talking about their upcoming plans between stealing glances at you and Wanda that the redhead never failed to notice.

The pair of you slipped off to your room the first moment you got and easily fell into bed besides one another. Wanda picked out a DVD from her bag of an old Sokovian show she used to watch as a child and had you hooked on as well as teaching you the language.

She settled down beside you and within the first few scenes she wrapped an arm around your shoulder so you could sink into her further like she did sometimes when you watched things together. You were barely paying attention to the series after that.

Despite trying to keep your focus on understanding what was happening in scenes of the show, you couldn't help but want to melt under the warmth of your best friend. You hoped it was something you got to experience more, you felt safer than you ever had in Wanda's arms.

Little did you know that having you in her arms was the most comforting feeling Wanda ever experienced and she always tried to do it as little as possible to refrain from falling for you more. It never worked.

*

You had thought waking up in Wanda's arms the morning before had been the best thing to awake to. But that day when you woke up not only were your legs tangled together again but the redhead was slowly stroking your hair while your head rested on her chest.

It was a gradual gesture that maintained a perfect rhythm and made you want to fall back asleep. But you were afraid you would mistake it for a dream later on. No, it was definitely real.

Luckily, your head was already tilted upwards slightly so when you secretly opened your eyes to risk a peek at your friend you saw her staring out the window as though she was in a trance. She was clearly so deep in thought she hadn't noticed you wake up, you had never seen her like it. But the feeling was too good to ignore, too compelling.

Soon enough, you found yourself drifting off back to sleep.

*

When you woke up again Wanda was gone. Her absence left an emptiness you knew wasn't good for you. As the days of your visit went on your fake relationship with Wanda was going to effect you even more when it was over.

Over...you couldn't think about that.

Once you got up and got changed you found Wanda in the kitchen looking at the news on her phone as she sipped her coffee.

"Morning, honey." You grinned. Wanda blushed slightly into her coffee, something you thought was undeniably adorable.

"Morning yourself." She tried to play off smoothly making you grin more.

You made breakfast for you both just as your mum came into the kitchen and greeted you both with an overplayed smile, already talking to Wanda about an upcoming party that she should go to. Wanda mumbled something about a busy schedule as you managed to whisp her away outside with your food.

Eventually, you and Wanda became bored with sitting around in the house when you had such amazing surroundings on your doorstep. You declared that you were going on a walk with the redhead and left before any of your family could invite themselves to go with you. Especially as you had told your friend to wear her swimwear underneath her clothing as you had a surprise for her.

You made a point of holding Wanda's hand as you left and once you were far away from the house went to take it back only for her to hold on tighter.

"You never know where they could be lurking." She joked as an excuse, so you starting swinging your arms playfully as to assure her you wanted your hands to stay linked together too.

You spent hours in those woods and was thankful for having a spy best friend who of course knew to pack the essentials like food and drinks so you could stay away from the house as long as you wanted.

The redhead brought so much you were able to have a small picnic on top of a hill that overlooked the large lake that stretched out all the way back to the house. You remembered thinking up stories as to explain the strange shape and curves to it as a child.

"It's beautiful here." Wanda said as she picked some grapes from the bunch between you.

"It is." You agreed with a fond smile.

"I used to want to live in a place like this." She muttered, sparking your interest.

"In the woods?" You asked curiously and she nodded.

"I thought I could retire to the woods and get a small cabin and I could grow my own food and that was all I needed." You hummed with a smile as you studied Wanda's features.

"Sounds lonely." You thought aloud.

"I'd have a cat." She said simply making you laugh. "I never used to think that but now when it crosses my mind and I picture that life... I picture someone else there with me." You knew she was imagining it as she spoke and you wished you could see exactly what it was she wanted.

"We could always downgrade the holiday house." You half joked as you nodded in the vague direction of the house. "Make it a simple cabin."

"We?" Wanda asked hopefully, the emotion clear before she had a chance to conceal it.

"There's no one I'd rather run away and live in the forest with." You joked although there was a lot of truth to your words. The redhead considered you for a while before smiling and nodded as though she had reached her own internal conclusion.

"Come on." You said suddenly as you stood up and dusted yourself off.

"You want to go back?" Wanda asked and you grinned.

"I'm going to show you that surprise." You declared and packed the remaining food away. Wanda did the same, eager to see the surprise you kept secret the whole way.

It was quite a way back to the house. The whole time Wanda kept asking more questions about it but you wouldn't say. She could only make guesses based on the swim wear which should have left only a few options, non of which she got right.

Finally, you arrived where you wanted to and grinned at Wabda before starting towards the edge. The redhead frowned as she watched you approach the ledge and became worried when she invisioned the steep slope that didn't always lead to water straight down. If you were to fall... your friend didn't have to wait long to see that. You slipped along the edge and disappeared from her view as she gave a startled cry and sprinted towards the edge and knelt over with wide eyes, expecting to see something that could haunt her forever but instead she saw you on a wide ledge but seven feet below her.

To your left was part of the ledge that had been dug into randomly and acted as perfect aid to get back into the woods above.

"Come down here." You beckoned as you starter to take your top off. Wanda's eyes widened more and quickly turned around and dropped down next to you steadily.

She glanced over the side of the small ledge to glance at the fifty foot drop into the water. There was nothing in the way to fall onto but there was no telling how deep that water was.

"You can't go in like that." You laughed as you kicked off your shorts and pushed them to the side.

Wanda's face heated up at the sight of you in your y/f/c bikini as you assessed the view. But even in her flustered state she was able to put it all together.

"You want to jump down there?" She exclaimed making you laugh.

"I've done it tones of times." You assured. "It's fun."

"It's a death wish! What if the waters not deep enough?" She questioned making you laugh more.

"Are you scared, Wan?" You teased as you took a step towards her making her avert her eyes from your form. She scoffed to play it off.

"Of course not." You hummed in faux belief.

"Well then I'll see you down there." You grinned and took a couple of steps back until your feet were no longer on the platform and you were plummeting down towards the water where you landed with a splash.

Wanda held her breath as she waited for you to resurface for a few agonising seconds. When you did with a gasp and started kicking around frantically to keep yourself afloat with your built up adrenaline the redhead sighed in relief and started taking off her own shorts and shirt and placed them next to your things.

You've jumped from higher. She told herself as she rocked on her feet. And you have powers! She argued back before she shoved those thoughts aside and threw herself off the ledge and into the water below. You laughed as she came back up and pushed her hair away from her way. You swam closer to her and saw her wide smile.

"Fuck." Wanda whispered with a laugh as she looked back up from where you had both come.

"Told you it was fun." You teased as you tried not to focus on the low cut on her bikini bra.

"Yeah yeah." She laughed and paused when she looked past you and saw you were surprisingly close to the house. She could see the outline of your family sat outside.

"They're looking." Wanda muttered. You could tell by the look on her face who she was talking about. It wasn't like there was anyone else around either.

"Do you think they've caught on?" You asked nervously as you stared at Wanda's brown eyes to stop you looking at your family.

"Maybe..." She considered and glanced around. "It's not like we've been acting like that much of a couple." You scoffed at that.

"At home everyone assumes we're dating and the one time we need it be believable it isn't." You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile.

"I know." Wanda laughed for a second but then paused. "Then let's give them something believable." She gently placed both her hands on your waist and pulled you slowly towards her. You let her guide you and took extra notice of the water droplets across her face. You almost trembled when your bare stomachs pressed together in the water lightly.

Wanda's soft hands left your waist and gripped your thighs to pull you up to wrap your legs around her own waist. You couldn't help but giggle at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around the redhead's neck and held onto her waist with your legs in a lock.

"Can I?" Wanda whispered when she lifted your chin with her finger and her other hand came round the back of your neck.

"Just shut up and kiss me." You demanded with a playful smile and leaned in to do it yourself.

You smiled into the kiss and felt Wanda do the same. It was everything you had ever imagined it to be. Her lips were soft and fell into place perfectly against your own as they moved together. Your mind was hazey and your stomach was doing flips at the realisation that you were actually kissing your long time crush. You forced yourself to remember that it was all a show. That Wanda didn't mean it. But she put on a believable act and kissed passionately, even slipping her tongue through your parter lips to explore your mouth further.

When she eventually pulled away you rested your foreheads together to catch your breath and grinned as you closed your eyes.

"You're a really good kisser." You blurted out making Wanda chuckle.

"Not too bad yourself." She teased.

"I hope not, we're gonna have to do that again." You smiled and instantly realized that sounded like a confession you desperetly wished you could claim. "You know because...Once probably wasn't enough to make it entirely believable." You rambled and Wanda nodded somewhat stiffly and let your legs drop back down. You wanted to say something to her, anything but it was all stuck on the tip of your tongue.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small murmurarion of starlings flew across the lake, some of them skimming the water then gaining height again as they got closer to you and Wanda. You both ducked instinctively as they flew over your heads and off towards the forest again as you watched them in awe until they disappeared. You glanced up at the sky and noticed the sun had gone behind a cloud, ableing you to continue looking up at the other birds higher up.

You kicked your legs up slightly so you could lay on your back and outstretch your arms to keep you afloat in the water so you could stare up at the sky without hurting your neck.

You didn't realise Wanda mimicked you until her hands brushed against yours. She withdrew it as soon as you touched and went to murmmer an apology but you smiled and held onto her hand as you both lay watching the birds.

Neither of you had to say anything. It was a comfortable and peaceful silence that was occasionally filled with birds chirping or the sound of a calm breeze. Of all the things you expected to feel on that trip, relaxed was not one of them.

You stayed like that for a while until you were both snapped out of your daydreams by the distant yell that declared dinner. Well, you had to go back to them eventually.

Both of you took your time swimming back to dry land and only felt a shiver when you left the water and the breeze hit you. Wanda spotted and reached the towels before you and wrapped yours around you tightly. You thanked her with a small blush as you both sauntered up to the house where the mouthwatering smell of a barbecue greeted you. Your dad was leaning over it while shooing your brother away as he tried to offer his 'help'.

You and Wanda went inside to change swiftly and came back outside as the food was being placed on plates and your mum finished setting up the buffet. Everyone starter helping themselves and you piled as much food as you could onto the plate. You parents had asked what food Wanda liked and when you gave them a brief list you added in a few things you knew you both loved.

"You gonna eat all that?" Anna asked as she eyed all the food on your plate. Guilt and insecurities washed over you until Wanda purposefully grabbed a large handful of small sausage rolls and put them on her plate that was piled with a considerable amount more food than your own. You smiled at the reassuring gesture as she sat down with a satisfied grin on her face when she saw Anna close her mouth to stay quiet.

"Thanks." You whispered to her as you sat down.

"If you don't eat all that I will." She declared. You were pretty sure she went back for seconds.

Instead of disappearing back to your room like you did the previous nights, you and Wanda stayed with your family for a while after dinner. It wasn't to do with their company, more the mesmerising fire in the firepit you all sat around. You were cuddled up into Wanda's side with a blanket over both of you as you stared at the flames, smiling at their small flickers and dances.

"So Wanda," one of your sisters began, "are any of the other Avengers...you know." She nodded her head in the direction of you both.

Oh boy you though.

"I don't think it's my place to say." Wanda said because yes, a lot of the Avengers were queer.

"Oh come on, you can tell us." Anna encouraged as she sat forward eagerly.

"I could, but I'm not going to." Wanda continued to defy.

"Lay off it guys." You mumbled but was ignored. Your family took it in turns saying her teammates names in hopes of sparking a reaction, clearly forgetting they were facing someone who had been trained by Natasha Romanoff.

"Stark!" Claire said but was instantly shut down by the others.

"He's married!" Dalton objected.

"Could still be bi though." Claire tried but Dalton just scoffed.

"I suppose there's going to be more surprises."

"What does that mean?" Wanda asked with narrowed eyes, feeling protective of her teammates. Dalton met her gaze with his own challenging one.

"I just never thought one of the Avengers would be a dyke." You felt Wanda stiffen as you all held your breath. There was no way to tell what was going through the redhead's mind, especially as after all those years of friendship you still didn't even know what team she batted for. She was an ally at least, but would she see this as her battle to fight?

Upon getting no reaction, Dalton continued. "It makes sense why you'd hang out with y/n though, we always knew something was wrong with her but-"

"That's enough." Your mum snapped with a guilty expression she failed to mask. You swallowed hard and moved to get up, deciding you had heard enough.

"Then you're idiots." Wanda stated as she glared daggers at your brother while you sunk down.

"I'll have you know I have a doctorate-"

"Your idiots." She repeated. "There's nothing wrong with y/n, which is impressive considering she's grown up around you lot." You looked at your friend in awe as she continued.

"She's the most amazing person I've ever known, including any of the Avengers. She's everything that you're not and I'm lucky to call her my girlfriend. It doesn't matter what any of you think of her, I love her and I always will." She declared as shot daggers at each individual family member who had fallen silent. She took your hand and pulled you up from your seat to take you inside.

You couldn't get her saying she loved you out of your head. You reminded yourself over and over again on the way to your room that it was just an act. That the redhead was making her point. But God, how you wished it was real.

She was so gentle with you as she guided you through the house. When you got to your room and broke down sobbing she held you on the bed for a long time until your cries turned to sniffles. The thing was, you weren't sure what you were crying over. Sure, what Dalton had said had hurt. As did the confirmation that your whole family had always looked down on you. But you had known that was the case for a long time, you had moved on from it.

Instead, you may have being crying over what you didn't know and didn't have. How much of what Wanda said was true? It was all based off of something that wasn't real. What if she saw you the same way your family did?

When you stopped crying you became aware of Wanda gently stroking your hair as she rested her head on yours and held you close to her. You remembered the memories you had accumulated over the past few days with her. The kisses, the hand holding, the nights together, how she stood up for you like no one ever had. You loved her so much.

"I think we should go tomorrow." Wanda mumbled and you nodded into her shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you though, you know that right? You can stay at mine and we'll watch more of those crappy American movies you like." She mocked lightly making you chuckle against her. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you." You said honestly. You knew you shouldn't have said that, but you were too emotionally drained to care.

"I just want you too, y/n." You pulled away from the redhead to look at her clearly.

"I don't think you know what I mean." You sniffed and she smiled at you fondly.

"I mean what I said earlier, around the fire." Your eyes widened slightly and you held your breath.

"It was all an act though." You whispered and Wanda chuckled as she exhaled sharply.

"No y/n." "I think I am inlove with you." She said as she took ahold of your hand and searched your face for any signs of a reaction to her confession.

"Me?" You questioned, not quite believing it.

"Yes you, idiot." You smiled and sighed in relief, not being able to find the words to express your overflowing happiness and numerous other emotions you couldn't quite pinpoint. You let go of Wanda's hand and brought them both up to cup her cheeks. You had done a lot more handholding than kissing in the previous few days. It needed to be evened out.

You closed the gap between you and kissed Wanda with just as much passion as you had in the lake, except all hesitation and questions were gone. Because you knew she loved you. Oh God she loved you. You grinned into the kiss at the thought and felt her hand fall to your hip while the other caressed the side of your neck in the most gentle manner you had ever seen from her.

When you eventually pulled away you rested your forehead against hers, a smile still playing on both your lips.

"Told you we'd have to do that again." You said and and laughed. "I love you too."

"Well I hoped that wasn't a pity kiss." She joked and you smacked her arm playfully.

"It definetly was not and I'll prove it to you by taking you on a date when we get back." You promised as you sat back to look at her clearly.

"Oh yeah?" She asked with a playful smirk and leaned over so her face was inches away from yours.

"Yeah." You said back.

"Well until then, my real girlfriend should definetly just keep kissing me." She said as she pushed you down gently and kissed you again. You smiled against her gleefully.

"Your girlfriend would love to."

[whimsicallyreading]

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

[clairecrive]

“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]

A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.5K

Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too. 

At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.

And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.

“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”

“You mean, romantically?”

He nodded.

“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”

“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”

“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”

She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.

“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.

“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.

“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.

Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.

Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.

"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re  sending me away?"

"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."

"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"

"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?

Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?

Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.

Wait a minute...

He went to meet Talia.

"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.

"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise." 

Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled. 

In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that. 

"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion. 

"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit." 

"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard. 

As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.

“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?” 

They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.” 

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.

Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.

And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned. 

Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.

But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating. 

Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.

They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married. 

While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage. 

She hadn’t considered Talia though. 

Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her. 

Turns out that she really was foolish.

“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat. 

“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”

“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.” 

And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.

It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t? 

It may take a while but she would be okay,

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 01 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Word count: 3K

Next part (02) ->

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

First Sight

The minivan stops right before entering the set as the driver speaks with one of the security guards. A huge structure was built around the area, and if it wasn't for the strong lights, you'd be in complete darkness. It's late at night, but yet, there are some journalists and a lot of cameras. They immediately surround the car, trying to see who's inside.

“Vicki, do you think I should go out and talk to them?” You decide to ask her first, because you're not as known as the other actors, and you're not sure if they'd want to talk to you.

“Sure. But don't take long.” She nods, touching the drive's shoulder and telling him to wait.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, a smile on your face as the cameras quickly find you. Running a hand through your hair, to make sure it's not messed up, you take in all the microphones and smartphones pointed at your face.

“(Y/N), could you answer some questions?” A short, dark-haired guy asks, a camera flashing.

“It depends on the question, but I'll try my best.” This seems to please them, and you wonder if the others couldn't afford a few minutes.

“Your posted on your Instagram account that you were a Stranger Things fan from season one.” A woman asks. “How was the transition from being a fan to acting on the show?”

“It was fantastic.” The first season of the show was still driving people crazy when you got the call for an audition for the role of Amy Whitehall, for seasons two and three. Vicky, you have no idea how, got in touch with some friends when she heard they were searching of someone with physical traits similar to yours. Thankfully, the audition went well and you got the job. “It's an honor to be part of this masterpiece. The only bad part is that now I have some spoilers.”

“Your character's scene by the end of season two had any interaction with Billy Hargrove, Hawking's bad boy. Does that mean she'll be in any kind of relationship with him?”

For that, you have to think, careful not to say anything that will expose the plot.

People are very interested in Billy, not sure exactly where the character will go from now on, after his introduction on season two. He stole many hearts, for love or hate, dividing opinions. And your character had a short appearance by very end of the last episode, shown in an interaction with him. On her way to the ball, to help Nancy, Billy almost runs her over with his car, after dropping his sister. They had a small dialogue, him asking her to get out of the way and her telling him to look where he was going. Then a pause, a little bit of tension, and that was it.

“I'm not allowed to answer that, but Amy's scene was just an introduction. Her character will be around throughout season three.” Offering another smile, you turn around, giving attention to someone else.

“What will be a new threat? The season finale raised a lot of questions about–”

“Excuse me, excuse me.” Vicky pokes her head out, a hand raised. “I'm sorry, but we have to get going.”

“Aright.” You mumble. “Thank you, guys. Bye.” Politely, you wave at the reporters before going back into the van.

You're soon moving again, leaving the entrance behind and driving in darkness for some minutes before more lights come into your sight until they're all around you. The set was built around a piece of the road, where you already shot earlier this week.

“C'mon, (Y/N). Hair and make-up." Vicky urgers, stepping out of the van with you.

You easily find your way around the set, chatting with people as they do your hair and put the makeup on. There will be a tiny cut above your left eyebrow, and Ron, the guy who always take care of the fake wounds around here, takes only fifteen minutes to get it done. Once you're ready, Vicky guides you to the filming area, and you sit on your chair a few feet away, under one of the many huge tents scattered around the place.

“Hi.” Someone says, and you abruptly look up from your phone, finding your co-star. The only co-star of the day, Dacre. He's already full Billy, with the mullet wig and the leather jacket. “I didn't mean to startle you. Just thought I'd come to say hello before the scene.”

You haven't properly spoken to Dacre. The single scene you made was quick, one of the last, and the set was a mess. So you didn't have the chance to talk, and ever since, you haven't crossed paths with him. But today's scene is all about your characters. Amy's first appearance on season three will have her running from something in the woods, the Mind Flayer, and she crashes her car on Billy's, while he's on the way to meet Mrs. Wheeler. That's it for today, their first meeting.

“Hi.” Smiling back, you shake his hand. “I'm (Y/N).” You decide to remind him.

“I know.” He simply says. “Do you want to go over the lines before the real thing?”

He has such a nice voice, it's impressive. You've watched some of his movies, and he's really good. It's not like you haven't acted before, but nothing so important or famous as Stranger Things. You can't help but be a little nervous. “Sure.” Blocking your phone, you stand up, leaving it on your seat.

“Alright. Let's–”

“(Y/N)! Dacre! It's time, c'mon!” The director calls, cutting you off.

“Guess we'll go straight to the real thing,” Dacre says as you start making your way to where the cars are positioned.

Billy's Camaro and Amy's light green Toyota are placed a few inches apart, the front part already wrecked and a light smoke coming off from under the hood.

“The mechanism will push the cars on each other and the rest you already know.” Your stylist comes to check on you one last time, making sure everything is perfect. When she steps away, you get inside the car.

A few days ago you shot Amy's way over here, driving insanely fast, running from the shadows creeping. Most of the scenes where Amy will be alone were already made since there weren't many. She will be around the others a lot, as the events are unrevealed.

Once you're in the car, you take your time to get into character, ignoring the orders being yelled outside. The lights are turned off, and the road before you is almost completely dark.

“Let's get it started, everyone!” The director shouts. “Action!”

At his command, the car jerks forward.

Letting your head fall on the wheel, you breathe fast, wide eyes acknowledging what just happened, the crash, the smoke, the other car that collided with yours. Looking over your shoulder, you imagine, you picture it coming, moving through the threes, growing closer.

“What the hell!” The voice yells as you try to make your car start again, uselessly. “You could've killed me!”

“Damn it.” Cursing under your breath, overcome by terror, you step out of the car, running around it and into the other one, which is still working, opening the passenger door and rushing inside.

“What do you think you're doing? Get the hell out of my car!” Dacre shouts at your face, in Billy's voice, a little deeper.

“There's something in the woods!” You yell, looking through the rear windshield. “It's coming!”

“Are you crazy or something?! You almost wrecked my car!” As he speaks, you imagine it once again, the tentacles coming from the sky, taking over the road behind you.

Then you grab his arm, squeezing the muscle underneath the jacket. He's in the middle of a sentence when he looks back too, immediately going silent as he's eyes meet the same inexistent thing you're seeing.

“What the–”

“Drive!” You burst out, and the car starts moving.

“Cut!” The director's voice reaches both of you and Dacre hits the brakes.

Relaxing, you let go of his arm.

“That was great, but I want another take. Ryan, turn those lights down.”

The scene is repeated three more times, with different lighting until they finally decide it's perfect. Then the whole set starts moving to the next scene, which is the sequence to what just played out. It'll be shot in a street Northeast from the road, and since it'll play out from the Camaro, you're told to stay in the car as Dacre drives there, following the other cars.

“You did well back there,” Dacre says as you move, taking a different turn from the other cars to reach your mark. The street has a few small houses on one side, which will have their lights on and some people moving inside and on their balconies, and tall threes on the other.

“You too. Hope I didn't hurt your arm, but Amy was terrified.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile to hear his giggle.

“I noticed.” He says. “But my arm will survive.”

Looking his way, you're able to have a good look at him now. It's a little dark, but you can take in his features. Dacre makes the mullet look good, which is impressive since you absolutely hate the hairstyle. But not on him. Clearing your throat, you look away. “Make sure it will. You'll need it.”

Dacre stops by the mark, everyone apparently already on their positions. “Things are about to get tense for Billy and Amy now.”

“First fight.” You say, taking a look at your outfit to make sure nothing is out of place. “Enemies to lovers is quite a good arch.”

“I like it too.”

“(Y/N). Dacre. Are you ready?” The director asks and both of you give him a thumbs up, hands off the window. The crew with the microphones and cameras are already positioned, ready for the scene. “Alright then. Ready... Action!”

Dacre moves the car forward, just enough to fake it as he hits the breaks. “What was that?” Billy asks, annoyed for some reason Amy wouldn't know.

“I don't know.” With a hand on your hair, shaking a little, you breathe fast, terrified. “Just take me home.”

“Now I gotta drive you home too?”

“Screw you.” The sudden outburst and the disgust in his voice makes you bolt out of the car, keeping in mind not to look at the cameras following you.

“Are you going to walk?” Billy yells, but you don't look back, walking fast, crossing your arms. “Wait.”

“Screw. You.”

“Don't be an idiot.” You roll your eyes when you notice he's coming closer. Dacre grabs your arm, forcing you to turn around. “Are you really going to walk home with that... Thing out there?”

You're confused at his change of moods, pushing your arm away. “Does it look like I have a choice? You just saw that–” You gesture at the threes on the other side of the road. “–and you still couldn't bring yourself to drive a lady home. You're such a gentleman.” Raising your voice, you put the same tone of disgust in your voice that you heard in his. The cameras move a little closer, and you know why. That's when the tension starts, when Amy stands up to Billy. Stepping forward, lifting your head to try and look him in the eye, you put a single finger in his chest. “You're far worse than what people say you are.” You don't get why his eyes make you nervous. Maybe this whole thing is more than you're used to, too big of a production for you after a few years away from the cameras. As much as Dacre's face being so close makes you feel funny, you gotta keep it cool, don't let it show. You're scared, terrified of a monster in the woods.

“Cut the bullshit and let's go.” He takes your arm again, but you refuse to follow him, standing your ground.

“Let go!” You struggle a bit on his grip, noticing how you actually need to act as if it's tighter than it really is. When he turns to face you again, as you struggle, his face comes close again, his eyes filled with Billy's annoyance.

“Get your butt–” Exactly in time, a crack reaches your ears, and both you and Dacre look at the woods with wide eyes, your breaths caught in your throats, unsure of what made that noise, but not excited to find out. “Let's get out of here.”

“Yeah.” You mumble, heading back into the car.

“And cut!” The director yells as soon as you close the door shut. “That was good, but I want another take. I want the same tension you both built on season 2, only now it's stronger, you're face to face. And Dacre, work this out because people need to be convinced Billy likes someone for something else than just fool around.”

You both nod, repeating the same thumbs-up gesture. Taking a deep breath you wait for the sign and starts moving, doing pretty much the same until you're both out of the car, but this time, when Dacre pulls your arm, you act as if the pull was stronger then it actually was, letting yourself collide against his chest before stepping away. “Are you really going to walk home with that... Thing out there?”

“Does it look like I have a choice? You just saw that and you still couldn't bring yourself to drive a lady home. You're such a gentleman.” Instead of just putting a finger on his chest, you push him away with both hands, not keeping the normal distance as doing so, and letting your eyes fall on his unbuttoned shirt for a couple of seconds before raising your them again. You feel the heat on your cheeks, and you know you're blushing. Checking him out was not the intention.

Dacre's eyes meet yours, and for a second they soften before the usual annoyance comes back. You wonder if he's trying to say something, give you a hint about something he wants to do, but you have no idea what it might be. “Cut the bullshit and let's go, princess.” The weight on the last word is different, lower, meant as in insult, an irony.

“Let go!” You whisper-yell, trying to pull away, but you stop when Dacre holds the other arm, trying to drag you to the car. His stare is intense, and the cameras move a little, coming closer, and you know they're focusing on your faces. “Let go.” You repeat, much lower this time, trying to put some distance between you and him, since your bodies are way too close already.

“Get your butt–” The crack again, the stare at the woods, and the sudden change of moods. Run now, fight later. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

Nodding in agreement, you give your arms one last push, and Drace's eyes come back to you as if remembering he was still holding you, finally releasing his grip. You both run to the car and the scene is over.

Despite saying it was perfect, the director wanted two more takes. He wants proximity, touching, anger mixed with a sudden, recently discovered passion from an unexpected connection at first sight. You're happy to hear that you did achieve that, not sure if it came from your skills or the funny feeling you had in your stomach through the scene. It's weird to have someone you basically just met so close, only inches away.

When it's all done, you take off the outfit and put your clothes back on after washing the make-up away. Then you wait for Vicky, leaning against the minivan, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

“Hi again.” You see Dacre approaching through the corner of your eyes, raising your head to look at him. “Have you checked in at the hotel yet?”

“Yes, just before coming here.” All the actors are staying at the same hotel, just so it's easier to gather everyone around when needed, and be sure of the time it gets for them to get on set.

“I came in my car. I can give you a ride there if you like.” As he speaks, you see Vicky coming, talking with the director. Which you still don't know the name yet.

“I came with Vicky, my agent.” Gesturing at her, you feel embarrassed to decline, and you hope Vicky will say something to help you out as she usually does. “Right, Vi?”

“Oh, no.” Waving her hand in a fast motion, she puts a lock of her blond hair behind her ear. “Remember what I told you? Make connections, friends. Don't stick with me during the whole production.” She reaches out her hand and Dacre politely shakes it. “I'm Victoria Klein. (Y/N)'s agent and her mother's oldest friend.”

“Dacre Montgomery.” He simply says.

“You may take her to the hotel. I have some things to do and she needs to rest. Long day tomorrow.”

You just watch as Vicky sets you up as if you're not even there to make your own call. But you're too shy to say anything else, to still refuse Dacre's kindness. “Ok then. See you, Vicky.”

“Have a good night.” She says after giving you a quick hug.

Silently, you follow Dacre through the set to the parking lot. His car is among several different trucks, some of them already leaving. “Nice car.” You tell him as you get into the passenger seat.

“It's rented.” Dacre turns the ignition and the car comes to life. “I can't be without a car. What if I need to go somewhere?”

“Fair enough.”

He drives through the huge set and you fall into a comfortable silence, not sure of that to say. It would help if you could see some kind of landscape or anything at all through the window. Then you wouldn't look like an idiot with eyes glued at nothing but darkness.

“Did you stop to speak to the journalists?” Dacre asks when you reach the exit, waving at one of the guards.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah. What did they ask?”

“Spoilers.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a glance, and he does the same. “About Amy's and Billy's relationship. What can be expected after their meeting in the season finale.”

A low giggle escapes his lips. “Wait until they know.”

“But they will have to wait until next year.”

“You did well back there. You actually blushed. How did you do that?” He stops at the red light, and you feel when he looks at you. Running a hand through your hair, you meet his eyes.

You weren't trying to blush. You just did. “I'm a very good actress.” Giving him a sassy smirk, you see when his lips break into a smile. It's different from Billy's smile, he doesn't act like he's trying to hide some unknown meaning behind it.

“You sure are.” The red light turns green and you start moving again. “Uhm... There will be a kissing scene, you know.” Oh. The kissing scene. You read through it, of course, you just didn't give much thought about it. “Have you ever done a kissing scene?”

“No.” The answer is quick, you don't have to think much. “In my long list of three movies, in two of them my character didn't have any romantic interests and in the other one it was platonic.” Dacre had done it, you remember from some movie, not sure which one. Your mother insisted on watching some of his movies, just so you'd ‘get to know your co-star skills’ before actually having to work with him. But it's different. It's completely different watching a character on screen and then meeting the person behind it.

“Oh, ok. I hope I won't make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Don't worry about that.” You're a professional, and that's your job. It's just a kiss anyways, and the scene won't be shot any time soon. You'll have time to get used to the idea.

“I just think that since our characters arch is connected from now on, it would be good to get to know each other. It helps a lot when the co-stars are somehow friends.”

“Of course.” He has way more experience in this than you, so whatever he says, you agree.

When you get to the hotel, Dacre leaves his car on the underground parking lot, and, despite having his room key, he insists on accompanying you to the reception to get your card. Once you're in the elevator, you rest your back against the mirror, watching the numbers as they light up.

“We should exchange numbers,” Dacre says, turning to look at you. “In case some of us need to go through the lines or work on something.” He shrugs his shoulders, the light fabric of his white shirt moving. “It's a thing among us. You'll be invited to a lot of parties like that.”

“Sure.” Taking your phone off your pocket you unlock it and hand it over to him as he does the same. Quickly, you type your number and save if on his contacts list.

“That's my stop.” He says when you reach the 14th floor. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” You mumble, waving at him as the elevator door closes again.

The first thing you do when you get to your room is kick off your shoes, already undressing to hit the shower before throwing yourself on bed. It's very late and you won't have many hours of sleep. You're halfway to the bathroom when you take your phone to put on some music. But you don't recognize the object in your hand. After a moment of confusion, you realize it's Dacre's phone.

“What now?” Stopping on your tracks, you start making the way back and gathering the clothes you left on the floor, putting them on again. Since you don't know the number of his room and knocking from door to door is ridiculous, you decide to call reception and just ask. But on your way to the landline they have near the couch, Dacre's phone starts ringing. You were wondering who would it be when you read your own name on the screen.

“Oh, hi.” You're quick to pick up. “I guess you have my phone.”

“Yeah, I got lucky it didn't lock, or else I'd have to call reception asking for your room.” His voice gets a lot darker through the phone. “Would you tell me which one is it? I'm already heading to your floor.”

“1703.” Already making your way to the door, you hear the soft beep of the elevator's doors opening.

“I'm almost there.” He's still speaking when he turns the corner, getting into your sight. You hang up, a shy smile on your face. “Sorry about that.” He hands you over your phone and you give him back his.

“It's alright. We're both tired.” You expect him to just say good night and leave, but he doesn't, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“Have you met the others yet? Natalia, Joe, Millie...?”

“No, not yet.” You've heard they are very close, and you're the new girl in set. Saying you're nervous doesn't get anywhere close.

“I'm your only friend so far then.” Dacre states. “I'll break the ice with the others, don't worry.” He smiles again, and now, under the bright lights of the hotel hall, you can see his face perfectly. His blue eyes, a lot kinder then they were earlier today when he was Billy.

“Thanks. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then... Pool scenes.”

“Pool scenes.” He repeats. “I'll leave you to sleep now. Good night, (Y/N). Again.”

“Good night, Dacre.” Standing by the door, you watch as the walks away, towards the elevators.

You're about to head inside when, just before he turns around the corner, Dacre gives you one last look, a smile coming to his lips when his eyes meet yours.

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittysstuff

[ruinedsoulsrp]

Hannah nodded slightly when he thanked her, her teeth darting out to bite at her lip slightly when she noticed the way he winced. She really did feel badly that he'd taken such a beating. Though at the face he made after taking a drink, she couldn't help the slight chuckle that left her lips before she took the bottle from where he'd placed it on the table. "Maybe you just can't handle your liquor, ever think of that." she teased softly, tipping the bottle to her lips and swallowing the strong dark liquid, the face she made far more minimal than his had been.

"Looks can be deceiving." she countered with a shrug as she set the bottle back down on the table between them, blue hues watching the liquid slosh slightly inside the large glass container before they were pulled back toward him when he uttered her name. She didn't expect him to be looking at her, and whatever energy passed between them as their eyes connected surprised her. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound followed. Thankfully he filled the silence, though she wasn't expecting his words. A slight hint of an embarrassed smile crossed her features as her hand came to run through her hair before her eyes glanced down and then lifted back toward him. "It's not.." she paused, shaking her head, a soft chuckle falling from her lips. "Dislike is a strong work." she offered with a shrug. She was surprised to hear he didn't feel the same considering he had always seemed so...abrasive, whenever they'd had to interact, or maybe she'd just interpreted it that way considering her trust level for anyone besides her sister rested at an all time low.

"You just have somehow found a way to always get on my last nerve." she explained. "How you do it every time is actually a little impressive." she offered with a slight teasing tone as she realized he hadn't done so at all in this entire interaction. She reached for the bottle and took another sip, setting it back down before she looked back at him. "I'm sorry...I know I can be kind of a bitch in my own right." she admitted softly with a slight shrug. "I don't plan on leaving you here alone though, and," she looked closer at his face. The cut above his eye had definitely caused some swelling. "You probably shouldn't be driving." she said matter of factly. "I can give you a ride home?" she offered, surprising herself with the kind gesture.

"Thank you," he uttered, taking the icepack from her and gingerly placed it on his bruised middle. The cold stung against his skin but Landon braced against it. No matter how many times he had done this, he wasn't numb to it. At her teasing, Landon chuckled, wincing at the same time. "Deal." He reached out to take the bottle from her hands, taking a swig before pulling back and made a face. Letting out a throaty bleurgh, Landon put the bottle down on the table with a thud. The bitter liquid burned down his throat. "That's a.... sipping... whiskey..." he sputtered, coughing. "Shit," he chuckled, coughing again. "You'd think I'd figure that out just by the look of it by now."

Landon shook his head, letting it rest against the back of the booth. "Hannah." He stilled for a moment, eyeing the redhead. He had always found her pretty and the wariness she carries with her when they have to interact for work was warranted. "You don't have to stay here with me." His words came out soft, reassuring. "I know you don't particularly like me," he offered a half smile but it faltered. Harbouring a crush on a colleague in this line of work was childish but sometimes, it can't be helped. "It's not mutual, though," he admitted.

[jeskier-the-starstruck]

Hello Commander... Part 2

** Illustration by: https://www.deviantart.com/theelfscauldron **

A very confident and strong beauty that came from a woman with a mission. The girl you remembered Shepard as grew to become an impressive and stunning woman. Though you never imagined Shepard would have had the time or interest for make-up or hair styling… and yet-

She stood tall with a straight back. Infallible posture. The black party dress she wore in this scene seemed to be meant to impress. You thought that, unfortunately, the dress didn’t compliment the muscles and tenseness in a way that should have been more flattering.

She seemed to be wearing the skin-tight get-up more out of necessity rather than pleasure… and that made you severely uncomfortable.

“Shepard..."

She leaned onto the bar and ordered her own drink. You couldn't even believe your eyes. You just stared at her in disbelief.

"I thought I recognised you... It took me a while. I wanted to talk to you to make sure I was right. It's good to see you again," she smiled before downing her shot.

You tried to blink the image of Shepard away and gestured to the Turian to give you another drink. "I can't be that drunk yet, but maybe another will kick the sense back into me."

Shepard paused before putting her glass down.

"I know you're not the first or only person to doubt it - but I am alive. And I need to ask you for your help."

This couldn't get weirder. Part of you thought it was true. The more reasonable, more sober part of you knew this must've been some sort of con.

"Shepard, this is - God, this is complicated. We haven't known one another for long enough or well enough for me to just see your face after all this time and believe this is really happening."

You turned on your seat to fully face mankind's saviour. Mankind's not-so-deceased saviour.

"This is crazy. I'm not in the correct frame of mind right now and you're asking for my help? Do you know how much of a scam this seems to be?"

"I know. It's a wild universe out there. I did die. As awful as dying felt, we are, unfortunately, in for a lot worse. Saren's Geth and Sovereign aren't the end. My crew and I are investigating the disappearances of the human colonies. I've been given another chance to fix this crazy mess of a universe, but I can't do it alone. I'm recruiting the best for my team and hopefully - hopefully, we can actually make some kind of a difference. From one Spacer Kid to another, no one knows what it's like to grow up out there as much as we do. We owe it to each other to make this universe better."

"Woah... hang on a moment. You can't seriously be springing another galactic incident on me in the middle of a bar... Have you considered that maybe I left that life behind for a reason? I like being a normal person... I like not worrying about dying - about people disappearing."

You turn to look at something else. You knew this speech. Get told how awful everything is and then BAM! Here comes the 'I've got the thing we need' pitch. Which never seemed to help at all. It never convinced you to do or change anything before. Why should it now?

"The 'ignorance is bliss' thing only works if you're ignorant to the horrors of the universe, you know? You and I both know you can't forget the things we've seen and experienced. I won't bother to tell you what you already know - you can't be happy here like this, and you're not normal. You never will be."

Shepard could understand that this wasn't the time or place to be having a recruitment interview and resigned herself to try again later.

"Look. I mean it when I say I could really use your help. You're clever and resourceful. Seen your files."

"You've been doing background checks on me?"

"Of course. Extraordinary people have a tendency to cause problems in the places where they don't belong. You can't help it. You're too brilliant for a cubicle job and you know it. You were born for life among the stars. When you have a clear enough head to think about it, please consider my invitation."

Shepard motioned over her omni-tool and your comm tablet pinged.

"I've forwarded my contact and the contacts of pertinent members of my crew. When you want further details, or if you have any questions at all - message to set up a meeting."

She orders and downs one last drink before standing up, and placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I really hope to hear from you. Missions and life-changing situations aside... It would be good to catch up with you as a friend sometime."

You look up from your drink only once her hand leaves your shoulder and the thump of club music drowns out your own racing heart.

Shepard's voice rings in your mind long after you've left the bar. The quiet life and peace of mind were replaced by the same humming and echo of ship engines and captains and other higher-ups barking orders.

Your hands meet your eyes in an attempt to quiet the memories.

"This is the life she's asking me to go back to?"

The more you tried to tell yourself you didn't want to talk to Shepard again, the more you became convinced that you had to. She was right about it all and it was maddening. Your quiet and peaceful life in the Citadel could only be that if you were truly and utterly ignorant. Unfortunately, once you know - you know.

A few more drinks at home drunkenly contemplating the meaninglessness of life and existence, a sleepless night and a couple of sobering medications later, you were waiting on hold to contact Commander Shepard's private terminal.

"To be honest, I didn't think I'd hear back from you."

"Your stupid speech ruined my life, Shepard, and I'll kick your arse for it one day... but you're right. The point is... I want to know what I'm getting myself into if I agree to help you. Do you have time to talk?"

Without even the slightest hint of hesitation and Shepard replied, "I do, but let's catch up in person, okay?"

With an agreed time and place, you cut the line and slumped your body down. You couldn't believe that you were doing this. Maybe you weren't sober enough to make good decisions yet. You massaged your temples and resigned yourself to just take the plunge.

You knew that things were going arse over elbow in this universe for a long time. You never did anything about it because you never thought you could. That you were alone.

Maybe Shepard could remedy that and, in time, you could actually put higher meaning into your life.

At the very least you'd be able to live with yourself knowing you tried.

[allegra-writes]

“Small talk”

Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Like wolves, we've run wild, let passion get too much, let ourselves get burned by the fire"

Small Talk - Niall Horan

Peter knows it's a bad idea, you are nothing but trouble. But just because he has spidey sense, doesn't mean he has common sense... 🔥

MY MASTERLIST

"Bad idea kid" Tony's voice reached his ears from somewhere at his left, but not even then did he broke eye contact with you. He couldn't. He was paralized, mesmerized, drawn like a moth to a flame. You had been looking at him across the ballroom all night, a vision in your little white number, like an angel with lightning in her eyes… He wanted you, the realization hitting him like a brick.

A hand was waved in front of his face,

"Peter, are you even listening to me?"

He made a non committal hum.

Tony sighed, 

"Look, I know you've been through a lot lately. I mean, Michelle practically left you on the altar-"

"Do not" He finally turned to his mentor, tone as cold as his gaze, "say her name. Ever." 

"Ok, kid, I won't" Tony raised his hands in surrender, "All I'm saying is, I know everything sucks right now, and you might be feeling a little... reckless and self destructive. And normally I would say go for it, a little rebound sex never killed anyone but in that case" he motioned in your direction with his head, "in that case it just might" 

"What do you mean?" You were dancing now, and Tony was loosing Peter's attention fast,

"They call her Cut-Throat" he said, straight to the point, "and she's with those wackjobs from Hell's Kitchen. EDITH identified her right away. Trust me on this one, kid. She's got the wrong kind of crazy" 

Yes, Peter could feel that, his spidey sense had been going haywire all night. But he liked it. He liked the dress you were wearing, and he liked the way you talked, and he liked the way you were dancing. He liked you, and he hadn't felt that way about anyone in a while.

He hadn't felt that way about anything actually, ever since MJ… 

But now? Now he wanted to run wild, wanted to misbehave at least once in his responsibility filled existence. He wanted to know what it was like to let the passion get the best of him. 

He wanted to play with fire, and get burned. 

"I'm not a kid anymore, Tony" He cut his mentor off, a little harshly "I have a PhD, I think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing" 

"One would think so, and yet…" Tony muttered, grumpily, watching his protegee disappear in the ocean of people on the dance floor. 

Peter, on the other hand, was trying not to freak out. Despite his big talk, he was half expecting Tony to follow him, to stop him, but it was too late now: You had seen him making his way to you and now you were walking to him, still staring at him like he was something to eat. And he couldn't run, couldn't hide, not when he wanted so badly to be devoured. Looking at your wolfish smile, he couldn't help but wonder if that's what rabbits felt, right before being gobbled up.

"Hello"

"Hi"

"Want to get out of here?"

Just like that, no small talk. Before he even knew it, the elevator doors were closing behind him and you were on him, smashing your lips against his, pushing him back against the wall, setting his skin on fire everywhere it met yours. And god help him, but the burn was better, so much better than the raw, biting cold he had felt ever since MJ had left him on his knees in the dark. Helpless, with nothing but that unforgiving, bone freezing emptiness.

He fisted his hands on the silk of your dress, bringing you closer, impossibly closer, holding onto your heat as his mouth left yours to suck a bruise on your neck. The helpless little noise that left your throat made his head swim, lips traveling south in their quest to coax more of those pretty noises out of you. 

"Fuck!" You cursed as his mouth closed around your nipple over the flimsy fabric. 

Peter smiled. He had been wanting to do that all night, his super sight letting him see everything through the sheer fabric of your dress when the light hitted you just right. Your fingers tangled in his soft curls, trying to keep his head where you wanted it, but he was strong, almost unnaturally so. In an instant you were the one against the steel wall, caged between it and his hard body. 

One hand at the back of your knee, and soon he was lifting your leg, wrapping it around his hips, opening you up to him, as he grinded his pelvis against yours, making you moan, the sound resonating in the tiny elevator.

"Bet I can make you come just like this" He breathed out, hot against your ear, "rubbing my cock against your pussy through our clothes"

"Fuck yes!" 

"You want that, don't you angel?" Peter bit back a moan of his own, still rolling his hips, "Want to be a good girl and come for me…"

"Not really a good girl" 

You pushed back against the wall, angling your hips, rocking them faster, chasing your peak. Peter's eyes rolled back inside his head, hands flying to your hip bones, helping you move. 

"But you're still gonna come for me, aren't you?"

There it was again, the sharp smile, all teeth and danger,

"Make me"

He attacked your lips again, tongue slipping inside your mouth as his hand slipped underneath your skirt. He found his goal, fingers teasing you over your panties,

"So wet for me already, angel?" He marveled, and you gulped for air. God, he knew how to kiss. You couldn't wait to see what else that talented tongue of his could do. 

"You made me wait too long…" You pouted, watching in satisfaction as his eyes zeroed on your lips and his eyes turned even darker. He retaliated by tugging your thong to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet, velvety heat. Your pretty lips opened in a perfect little O, and he had the dirtiest of visions, of you on your knees, taking his length into that gorgeous, delicious mouth of yours. He licked into your open mouth, filthily. 

"It's ok, angel, I got you now" 

He could feel it coming, you muscles tensing, your fingers digging into his shoulders, wetness bathing his hand… 

But the elevator came to a halt, and a ding announced you had arrived to your floor. He took his fingers out of you, licking them clean one by one, chuckling when you cried out your frustration. 

"Shut up" You snickered, grabbing him by his tie, dragging him like a puppy on a leash all the way to your room.

Peter plastered himself to your back as soon as you both reached your door, making the task of unlocking it rather difficult, with him nibbling on the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulders, lowering the straps of your dress… 

You felt his impressive hardness against your lower back, and you couldn't hold back the wanton whimper that left your lips. 

"Hurry up, angel, or I'm taking you right here against this door" You believed him, what with his hands slowly bunching your skirt up. 

The door opened abruptly, making you practically fall into the room, but with quick reflexes, he caught you in his arms. 

"I told you I got you, angel" 

You scoffed, deciding to make use of your full strength, surprising him by turning the both of you around and pushing him, so he fell flat on his back on the bed.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm no angel, baby boy"

Peter wholeheartedly disagreed. He didn't think he had ever seen something more beautiful than you right then, eyes on fire as you let your dress fall, mischievous smirk promising a world of trouble. 

You straddled his waist, helping him get rid of his suit coat and his shirt, stopping short at the wide shoulders and defined chest you found underneath. It was his turn to smirk, as he snaked his big, big arms around your waist and twirled you on the bed, so you were the one trapped between the mattress and his powerful body.

"And I am no boy"

His mouth found yours again, Irresistible and addictive, something long forgotten inside him reawakening with every drag of your soft lips against his, every taste of your tongue on his. Your hands grabbed onto his biceps as he went for your neck again, making sure of sucking hard enough to break blood vessels under your skin and leave behind a dark, deep mark that would not fade quickly. He continued his way south, until he reached the top of your breast. He admired the softness and the color of your skin there, a perfect blank canvass. He bit down, with bruising force. 

Peter didn't know why he was being so rough with you, he had always been so careful, so tender with MJ. Always letting her take the lead, so aware of her fragility compared to him, always afraid of hurting her if he let himself get too carried away. He shook himself, he had already spent too many nights, to many hours, too many thoughts on her. He didn't want to waste another, not with your exquisite body under his, so pliant and willing. So eager to take all he was capable of giving you. 

Your hands had gone to his head again as soon as he had dug his teeth in, not pushing him away but pulling him closer. Yeah, you could definitely take it. 

You were a sobbing, squirming mess, as he trailed kisses and bites down your body, 

"Stay still for me, angel" he quipped, annoyed at having to pause on his way to his ultimate goal, "or I'll have to tie you to the bed"

You chuckled,

"Kiny. But sadly I don't have any ropes…"

A whooshing sound was the only warning you had before you found your right hand stuck to the headboard with what looked suspiciously like a spider web. You turned your wide eyes on him.

"Spider-man?" You gasped, astonished. He offered you his wrist, and you took it with your free hand, turning it this way and the other, examining the sophisticated device you had first mistaken for a bracelet. 

"Peter"

"What?" Your gaze returned to his handsome face in the dark.

"My name is Peter" He smiled, and you could swear the room lit up.

"Y/n" You confessed, giving him your real name instead of the false identity you had used to enter the party. 

"Y/n" He repeated, trying it out "Much prettier than Cut-throat" 

He knew who you were. Of course. But you knew who he was too, so maybe it wasn't so bad. He could have kept silent, kept the advantage, but instead he had evened the field. You were equals now, in every way. But more than that, something inside you told you you could trust him. A gut feeling, like those Matt kept talking about. 

He was one of the good guys after all.

You offered him your free hand, and if his smile had been bright before, now it was blinding. He kissed your open palm reverently, before sticking it to the headboard next to the other one. 

Peter kneeled on the bed, between your open legs, admiring you.

"Have you got any idea" he whispered, fingertips tracing your body, "how beautiful you look like this, all tied up and naked, just for me?" 

His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs playing with your nipples with just the right pressure to send shivers up and down your body.

"I wanted to play with you, to tease you, make you beg for it" like a spider playing with the helpless fly trapped in its web, "but I don't think I can wait any longer. I want you so bad…"

"But I am begging," You breathed out, arching your back, pushing yourself into his hands, "please, Peter. Please just fuck me" 

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your ruined underwear.

"Say it again baby"

"Fuck me, Peter, please" 

He dragged your panties down your legs, helping you untangle them when they got stuck on your hills. He truly had never seen something so sexy, so sinful. And neither had you, once he had made quick work of his pants and underwear, wrapping his own hand around his impressive member, pumping once, twice, three times when he noticed your unwavering, unabashed stare. 

"Now you're just showing off…"

Peter laughed,

"Maybe. Like what you see?"

Your eyes traveled to the sharp, popping veins of his hands, perfectly matching the ones on his angry red length. 

"Yeah" You admitted, "yeah, I do"

His boyish grin had no place in a situation like this, but somehow it fitted better than any lecherous look could.

"I changed my mind" he declared, pushing your legs open, "maybe just a taste"

"What? Peter no" you whined, petulant, "I want to feel you! Now!"

"I don't think you understand, baby:" his hot breath fanned over your center, "You're mine tonight. Completely at my mercy…" 

He flattened his tongue, licking a long strip over your slit before closing his lips around your pearl and sucking softly, tearing a surprised cry out of you. He was every bit as good as you thought he would be, but you had something else in mind.

"Please, please Peter… I want-" You were panting as he kept on devouring you, the movements of the mattress near your feet making it quite obvious he was touching himself as he ate you, "I want your cock… I want to… I want to come around your cock" 

He mumbled something unintelligible, burying his face deeper, sucking harder. You felt his strong, thick tongue make its way inside you, eagerly lapping at your overly sweet juices. It was too much, and you tried to close your legs, to make him stop, but only succeeded in bringing him closer, deeper. You couldn't handle it, the way he was playing your body like a well loved instrument, coaxing the pleasure out of you too fast. And he didn't even need to stop for air. You tried to hold back your orgasm, tried to control it but it was in vain, soon it was crashing over you like a wave, a tsunami, leaving you exhausted, muscles aching by the sudden onslaught of inhuman bliss thrusted upon them. 

You were still riding high on your crest when Peter crawled his way up your body, burying himself inside you in one thrust, hissing at the way your walls squeezed him almost too tight. He only gave the both of you a couple of seconds to get used to it before starting to move. Like in the elevator, you tilted your hips to him, offering yourself up, giving him more access. It was the sweetest torture, feeling him so big, so deep, every thrust electrifying your body, making it come alight again, for him. 

And he, he couldn't get enough, couldn't control himself, not when you felt so heavenly. He wanted, no, he needed, to give it to you. Every last, shattered piece of what was left of him. Until it was all gone. Until he couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember her name. Until all that was left was you, and the way you felt around his cock, the way your body fitted in his hands, the way your screamed his name into the night, over and over and over again. Cause it sounded different from your lips, sounded brand new, sounded… pure. 

There, covered in sweat, grunting obscenely, debasing both you and himself in the dirtiest, most animalistic fucking, he felt alive like he hadn't in years. Maybe ever.

Peter's gaze fixed on you again, tugging at your restraints, hair a halo around your head, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen. Breathing hard. The loveliest thing he had ever caught in his web. Your sobs and moans inter mingling with his own, were the most pornographic thing he had heard in his life, your hips moving to meet his, wet sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room… and you still looked like an angel. 

"Peter…" You cried out. He was so deep you could feel him in every cell of your body, his cock touching places you didn't even knew you had, stretching you almost painfully but not quite, just enough to make you question your sanity, to drive you wild, to keep you begging for more even if you couldn't really take it. 

"You feel so good angel" he was talking in your ear, hips never stopping, cock pounding into you without mercy, "gonna come for me again? Gonna let me feel it?..." 

You wanted to shake your head, to say no, you weren't that kind of woman, the kind that could come more than once, but you wanted so badly to be good for him. For once in your life, you wanted to be good.

"Ugh… come on, give it to me baby girl… fuck you feel so good… like heaven on my cock" 

"Peter!"

His thumb found your clit, rubbing messily, with no rhythm or finesse. No, he was too close for that, but he wanted you to come with him, needed the both of you to fall together. 

"You still have one more to give, don't you angel? You said it… said you wanted to come on my cock…"

You sobbed, weakly. You could feel all the muscles in your body lock again, the coil inside you tightening. You were at his mercy, just like he had said, there was nothing you could do to resist it, and you knew, you just knew that by the time this orgasm hitted you, there were gonna be tears in your eyes, for the sheer intensity, the-

"Yeah, like that… just like that… I can feel it… come for me angel, now!"

As on command, you felt your muscles contract and relax, every single one of your nerve endings exploding with bone shattering force. One last thrust and grunt above you, and Peter went lax, falling bonelessly next to you.

"Oh… oh, god!.. That was…"

You gigled, breathlessly,

"Yeah… I know…" 

"How… how do you feel? Are you ok? How are your arms?"

"Peter, stop freaking out, I'm ok, I promise" You tried to reach for his face but your hands were still tied to the headboard.

"You sure?" 

You stretched on the bed, arching your back like a cat and Peter couldn't help the way his eyes wandered to your breasts.

"I'm better than ever" 

He got up anyway, fetching a wet towel to clean you up and a bottle of orange juice from the minibar that he helped you drink. He then threw the cover over both your bodies, cuddling with you.

"So" you started, trying to get a look up at your still bound hands, "how long does this thing usually lasts"

Peter flinched,

"About three hours…"

"THREE HOURS??"

He drowned your indignant cry with a kiss, not stopping until he felt you relax under his body again.

"I'm sure I can find ways to keep you entertained until then…"

You captured his bottom lip, nibbling softly before releasing him,

"And I was thinking, you don't have to leave after. I mean, it's gonna be way too late for you to go, this city is kinda dangerous at night…" 

Peter smirked,

"I know… lot of baddies out there at night…"

"And weirdos in costume…" He swallowed the rest of your sentence, coaxing your mouth open with his gifted tongue, deepening the kiss. And you knew.

He was going to stay forever.

The end.

[bubblemiya]

Ace of Spades ~ Natsuo Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 1 : First day disaster

Next | Masterlist

Warnings: blood mention, abduction mention

word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first fic on my new blog and I am so excited about it! I hope you enjoy

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You knew hero work wasn't going to be easy but there was still a tiny part of you that thought you'd be snatched up by a top agency right away with your flashy suit and unique quirk. That wasn't quite the case. 

In fact the opposite happened, your strong quirk had very little drawbacks and many people saw it as dangerous, the nature of your quirk drew villain organisations to you. You defeated them, reported, even 'disposed' of some of them but there was one organisation you couldn't quite shake.

It was your loyalty to the side of heroes and your impressive skill set showcased in your fights that caught the eye of the Endeavour agency. Today was your first day at the agency, it had been a full year since your graduation from shiketsu, and it hadn't properly sank in yet until you were pulling on your hero suit in the women's changing room and a fiery haired sidekick basically pounced on you.

"Aren't you the new girl? I'm Moe Kamiji, my hero name is Burnin'" 

She was beautiful, her hair was unique and her loud personality made you envy her. Her inquisitive staring distracted you and you almost tripped pulling up your body suit. She chuckled and helped steady you before offering to help you zip up.

"I'm y/n l/n, my hero name is Phantom Light"

"from what I've seen of your quirk, you're like a ghost type pokemon! that's so cool"

If she sensed your nervousness or felt the heat rising in your face, she didn't mention it. She instead just waited for you to tug on your boots and rambled about how much she loves working at the agency. Her bright attitude was nowhere near what you expected walking into a workplace run by the most intimidating man you've ever seen. She had a natural warmth to her that seemed to calm your fears. You guessed that they sic her on all the newbies at the agency because of that. 

"well I'll show you around, newbie"

She looked confident and comfortable as she showed you around the main floors and you only hoped to feel the same way soon. You had already seen the reception and social media/pr team offices as they were on the way to the changing room but Moe had shown you the gyms with in-house saunas, break rooms, conferences rooms, and investigation rooms. The place was huge and despite being full of people, felt empty. It was terrifying, but still exactly what you expected from the new number one. Moe's phone beeped as you passed into another hallway and she pulled it from her bra to check.

"I regret not asking for pockets on this thing" she growled "shit, I'm being called to a villain attack not far from here, you're on your own for now, newbie." she turned to run down the hallway.

"Thank you Kami-"

"Call me Moe!" and before you could even respond she was gone. Your nerves suddenly came flooding back without your new friend there to ease them. With your 'almost fall' in the changing room and Moe leaving when you needed her most, it seemed lady luck was not on your side today. Right as you turned the corner you smacked right into someone exiting an office and they spilled their coffee down your shirt.

“Oh i’m so sorry!” 

“It's ok, my hero suit is quite thick so it's not that bad” you attempted to laugh it off but paused as you finally looked up. Your blood ran cold as you realised who you bumped into. The six foot five figure of your boss loomed over you. On your first day you just so happened to bump into Endeavour's son and cause a coffee spill right in front of the man himself. “I-it was my fault any-”

“You just started today and you’re already causing problems, we scouted you because of your impressive skill set but -”

“Shut up, old man” Endeavour's face immediately twitched in anger but he listened to his son, not wanting to cause a scene with him. “It was an accident and it was both of our faults” Endeavour looked embarrassed but grunted something inaudible under his breath. “I'm Natsuo, I'm sorry about your suit, take this” he held his jacket out to you.  

 “Its ok, it's just a stain”

“Please I insist”

You took it, not wanting him to be offended, and you got a chance to get a proper look at him. He awkwardly scratched his neck as you put on the jacket. There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Endeavour pushed Natsuo past you and carried on walking down the hall. You shook your head to try and rid you of your shame, you hoped you had not just ruined your big shot in the hero world. You walked back down to the offices, keeping your head down as you passed Endeavour and Natsuo to avoid the awkward eye contact. Endeavour was immensely intimidating so you wanted to avoid getting further onto his bad side as much as possible. You filled out the last of your paperwork and set out on your daily patrol.

You kept the jacket on during your patrol and kept in mind that you should take it off to fight but hoped that wouldn't be necessary. You wandered your designated streets, taking in the general hustle and bustle of the town. Bike bells and shop doors opening were sounds you considered comforting. You nodded at people as you passed them, even stopping to say hi to some kids, and stopped at a cafe for a drink. You walked with your drink, hoping for a peaceful end to your work day, until the bird chirping and happy kids turned to screams for help. Your feet, as if on autopilot, followed the sounds until you turned a corner and came face to face with a guy harassing a group of high school girls. You recognised his face from the news, he was a low level villain who had abducted some high school students over the last 3 weeks. He didn't have any strong quirk that you knew of so you went straight in with a strong punch. However, in your haste, you failed to notice the knife he had concealed until he swung it in your direction and he caught your stomach. It wasn't so deep that it needed immediate attention so you continued to fight him off. you had shouted at the girls to leave the alley but they were frozen in place. Fear sometimes acts as an invisible paralytic, 

one that we can't or struggle to fight against.

He had gotten in a couple of good swings but once you knocked the knife out of his hand he was pretty much useless. You gave him a harsh elbow to the nose that definitely broke it, a noise that you didn't wanna admit made you feel good and all but knocked him out with the hardest punch you could throw. While he was incapacitated you leaned down to slip him under your control into his body to possess him to make him easier to carry. Your quirk was called 'ghost' which not only gave you the ghostly ability to walk through walls but also to possess people and communicate with the dead. Your possession ability works like a telepathically controlled puppet instead of a typical spirit possession. Once you had his unconscious form up and ready to walk himself to the nearby police you made an attempt to calm the girls and make sure they followed you to the police so police could do safety checks and collect statements. You found it was easy to keep them distracted from their feelings by talking to them and answering questions they might have. You learned one of the girls, a short girl with black hair and black bunny ears, was named Hoshi.

"Are you a pro hero?"

"yup! I started at the Endeavour agency today!"

"Saturday is a weird day to start a new job"  

"There's no such thing as weekends when you're a hero" you chuckled at the way she rolled her eyes.

"Don't I know it. My dad is a pro too" 

"oh really?"

"yeah but he's away visiting my stepdad"

Your conversation abruptly stopped when police arrived on the scene and took both the unconscious villain and Hoshi away from your custody. The only thing left to do now was find where you had left Natsuo's jacket and head back to the agency to get stitched up. You ran back to a bench you passed to luckily find Natsuo's jacket still there. you didn't wanna get blood on it so you carried it back to the agency instead.

When you walked back in the agency building, Endeavour was standing in the office, handing paperwork to the receptionist, and he noticed you almost immediately.

"Phantom Light, what happened?"

"I got that guy who was abducting high school kids, the one that's been all over local news" Your chest felt heavy as you struggled to pant out your sentence. You were holding your free hand over the wound, putting as much pressure as possible on it to reduce bleeding.

"You're gonna need stitches, I'll take you to our in house doctor" He seemed a lot less tense than he did earlier and Natsuo was nowhere to be seen. You muttered a thank you and slowly walked behind him. He led you to a white door with a black metal name plate on it reading 'Dr.Kita'. You thanked Endeavour again and wandered into the room.

"Good work today, Phantom Light'' was the last thing he said before he shut the door behind you. He was being a lot nicer and even attempting to be encouraging which you figured was his own way of apologising for yelling at you earlier. 

The doctor was a tall guy around forty with yellow eyes and brunette hair that was already starting to grey. He welcomed you and got you to lie down on the bench so that he could stitch you back up. He was very talkative, as most doctors are as a way to distract from pain, and he asked about a couple other visible scars to focus your mind elsewhere. 

"I got the skin graft about a year ago, I got in a fight with some villain who had a fire quirk. I wasn't even at an agency yet, I was still looking to get scouted, but I walked past him harassing this man for money and I couldn't just walk past it" The doctor nodded as you told the story of the man with white hair and some nasty facial scars who burned you last year. You hissed as the final stitch went through and the doctor clasped his hands together.

"that's you all fixed up, now you just need to change and go home" he said, helping you off the bench and shaking your hand.

You walked back to the changing room and shoved your coffee and blood stained clothes in a bag and changed into your normal clothes. On your way out the building you passed Moe who all but begged for your phone number before you left.

The walk home was quiet and peaceful, The sunset was pretty and nice to watch as you made your way to the train station. The subway ride home had very few people and it was nice to have some time to yourself. You almost missed your stop though because your mind kept drifting back to white fluffy hair and pretty grey eyes. Natsuo was all you could think about. It didn't help that you had his jacket wrapped around you. The smell of an expensive cologne lingered around the collar, it was faint and softer than the cologne you expected him to wear. It was nice and comforting, a smell you could get used to.

Once you got back to your house you used your quirk to pass through the door - which is always locked because you used your quirk and had no reason to open it unless you were expecting food delivery. When you turned around to kick off your shoes you noticed the chain lock had been busted open. You quickly looked around the entrance to your house to check if anything was missing but everything was exactly as you left it in the morning. You dumped your duffle bag full of dirty clothes on the floor and went to check around the rest of the house. You upturned cushions, sifted through cupboards and looked underneath your copious number of house plants but everything seemed normal and in its right place. The only place left to check was your bedroom. Your hand shook as you grasped the door handle nervous to see if anything had been taken but when you walked in you couldn't see anything out of place until you turned your head to the dresser and there it was. Tucked into the frame of a photo of you and your brother sat a playing card, the ace of spades to be exact, with a time written on it.

"2:30 pm"