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fleeingword · 5 months ago

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Lost Love.

Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing, brief mention of violence, a bittersweet (half) ending, mentions of ed

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, platonic!Emily Prentiss x Reid, platonic!Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader

Word count: around 1.9k

A/N: I got an ask for this but i accidentally deleted it… so here’s a short one, almost two years later haha… 😅 sorry!

English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.

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The moment you heard that Doyle got his slimy hands on Emily you couldn’t think straight. All you wanted to do was to catch him and beat the living shit out of him for hurting the most important person in your life.

The team and you ran inside the building, looking for the dark-haired woman. You decided to break away from your team, searching the rooms by yourself when you stumble upon the worst thing you’ve ever seen.

The love of your life, Emily, was currently on the floor, bleeding out. You stumbled towards her, engulfing her in your arms, putting pressure on her abdomen wound.

“It’s going to be okay babe, you’re okay.” Smiling down at her, you shook her awake seeing her eyes falter.

“It hurts…”

“I know, I know it does, pretty girl. But you have to hold on for me.”

She sighs and reaches out her hand to caress your cheek. “You look so beautiful tonight.

You nod, biting your lip as you don’t trust yourself to not let out a sob. Petting her hair you leaned into her touch, begging the heavens to let her live.

“I’m just going to –” You ripped a piece of your shirt to tie it around her leg, which was cut up badly, making her whine in pain. “I – I know princess, I know.”

The door opened as you heard collective gasps, picking up your head you saw Aaron and JJ rush towards you and your lover. Derek couldn’t move, he didn’t want to see his friend-like sister dying on the floor.

“I tried to do anything to save her some time –” In an instant, you were pulled away and the medical team started to work on Emily. You tried to pull away from the person holding you, wanting to go and be near your girlfriend. “I have to… I need to be next to her.”

“I know you do, but that won’t help her right now.” Hotch pulled you out of the room and out of the building, he needed to get you to safety.

“Hotch, let me ride with her.” You sobbed out when you saw Emily being put into an ambulance. You looked over at him, giving you a small nod. That was the only thing you needed before you ran up to the vehicle and got inside it.

For some weird reason, Hotch told you to stay with them while JJ went to find out if Emily survived. It was weird, sure, but you understood it perfectly, he didn’t want you to break down alone.

So when you saw the blonde come in, where the whole team was sitting, you could tell from her solemn look that your worst nightmare had come true. Spencer stood up before he was engulfed in a hug from the liaison, Derek and Penelope were both crying in their seats.

You looked over at Dave, who was biting his lip to not make a sound, you could tell that the death hit him hard, he thought of Emily as his daughter in a way. But when your watery eyes moved to your side, Hotch seemed oddly put together.

Of course, you knew that he was a rather calm and stoic man but he and your girlfriend always had a special bond, so his reaction was weird. But you decided not to question the man, your mind was soon clouded with depressed thoughts of your late lover.

A couple of days passed, that’s all the time you gave yourself to grieve. Hotch advised you to take a month for yourself but you shrugged him off, knowing that your girlfriend would want you to put yourself back out there to fight and help people.

“Leave me alone Hotch, I told you that I’m fine.” Rolling your eyes at the man in front of you, you turned back towards the papers you needed to fill.

“I know what you said, but that doesn’t mean that I will listen to your lies and go along with them.” Not getting an answer from you, he pushed your chair so that you were face to face. “Listen, I care about you enough to be concerned about not only your mental health but also your physical health. It doesn’t seem like you’ve been eating well these past few days and I can’t have a malnourished agent on the fields.”

You clenched your jaw and picked up your gaze to meet his angry one. Nodding lightly, you knew he was right, and that by your actions you were putting the whole team in danger. “I’ll do better sir.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving you alone with your running thoughts.

There was a hit on Doyle. You and Morgan have been secretly working on his case for some months now. Hiding it from the rest of the team, especially Hotch, you didn’t want him knowing because he would take the whole blame for it — and you didn’t want Strauss to change your unit chief.

“Morgan, we got something.” I strutted into his office holding a few papers, my voice a harsh whisper.

“Please tell me it’s something good.”

“It’s more than that, I think this will help us make a breakthrough.” I tossed the papers over to him, the information was found by Garcia, who was also the only one that knew of our doings.

“This… these are Declan’s foster parents.”

I hummed and crossed my arms, watching as he read over the papers with furrowed eyebrows. His jaw clenched tightly as I saw the gears in his mind work.

“We need to tell Hotch and the rest of the team. If we want to catch him we have to come up clean.”

“So what the two of you are saying is that… for the past few months you’ve been tracking and monitoring a deadly terrorist without the Bureaus' consent?”

“Yes… but Hotch, we couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while he got away Scott free with killing Emily!” Morgan argued, his pulse quickening as you cringed internally at the mention of your dead girlfriends name.

“I don’t like this. And after we’re finished with this case we’re going to have a long and hard talk.”

You both nodded, like little kids that were being told off for getting into trouble. Walking out of the chief office, you follow Hotch into the briefing room smiling at each other.

“I know someone who can help with that.” JJ smiled and moved out of the doorway, revealing… Emily.

Emily Prentiss in all her glory. Though she looked and felt a bit different than before, it was an odd feeling, one that you couldn’t put your finger on. Nonetheless, your heart ached for her as she made her way around the room hugging and saying her hellos. She got to the end of the round table; standing face to face with you, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Hey.” She whispered so softly you barely heard it.

“I— Emily… what? You, you died in my arms Emily.”

“I know, I was dead for a moment or two, but I had to leave. You have to understand—“

“Okay guys, leave that for later, we have to get rolling.” Aaron spoke up, his go bag in his hand as the team began to leave for the plane.

You were sitting outside on Rossis’ patio. The night was warm and the stars were bright, you could still hear faint music coming from the inside of the house. You sighed solemnly as you sipped your drink.

“Is this seat taken?”

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Your shoulders shrugged in response as you felt the couch dip. Clenching your jaw, you didn’t dare to look at her.

“I really am sorry, I didn’t know— I mean, I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just wanted you all to be safe, and you wouldn’t be with me there—“

“You don’t know that.” A bitter whisper left my lips.

“Doyle was targeting families, you are my family.”

“We could’ve protected you, I wouldn’t let that son of a bitch lay another finger on you—“

“You know that’s not true, he probably would’ve killed you if I stayed here.”

You let the words sit in the air before exhaling a sigh. With a shake of your head, you stood up and down your drink.

“Yeah, well that wouldn’t hurt as much as you dying in my arms. The love of my life… dead.”

“Baby, I really am sorry.”

Her warm hand found its way around your bicep, trying to turn you around but you shook her off. “Don’t call me that, we’re not together Emily.”

“We never broke up.”

“That’s because you don’t break up with dead people. Gosh Em… what did you think would happen? That I would forget everything and just run into your arms happily? I— I can’t”.

Your legs started to make their way over to the door, wanting nothing more than to leave and never face your ex lover again.

“I thought you loved me?” Her broken voice left an echo in your head. Your own eyes glossing over with tears, just like hers.

“I thought I loved you. But I can't love someone that I don’t know. You come back, and it’s like you’re a totally different person.”

“I’m still the same girl you met 4 years ago! You know me, we were together for half that time. Baby please—“

“No, I knew my Emily… I don't know who this new Emily is. And quite frankly I’m tired of this bullshit that everyone is pulling, acting like everything is fine and the same.” Shaking your head you turn around to face the dark haired woman.

“I can’t be with you anymore Emily. You broke my trust, and my heart and I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from that. I don’t know how to… I can’t.”

Without a single other word you turned and left. But you didn’t go through the house, instead you took the garden doors. Slipping past the other guests you let out a sigh of relief you began your journey home.

The only thing that was on your mind was Emily’s cries after you, the way her hand fleeting tried to stop your body from moving. How crushed she looked when this time, you were the one to walk away from her. But you didn’t care, or just not enough to stay.

You went through your healing, got better and started to move on, she had no right to come back and act like nothing happened. Not now, not ever, and you were going to do everything in your power to make sure that stays true.

The end.

#emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #Emily Prentiss x male!reader #Emily Prentiss x gn!reader #criminal minds x reader #reader holds grudges #pretty quick paced #I’m back from the dead #maybe a part two someday #emily prentiss angst #angst #angst no comfort #I love spreading sadness

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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i am sad 😔

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (10/22)

Chapter summary: Wanda talks to her therapist about her recent relapse; You discover something about your new girlfriend that puts a damper in your new relationship

Chapter word count: 7k | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: I hope this will dispel the rumors that Yelena is gonna cheat on R with Kate :/

AO3 | Masterlist

Ten

“I relapsed.” Wanda declares as soon as she’s finished filling out a mood questionnaire. She proceeds to recount how a seemingly innocent can of beer quickly escalated into a tequila shot, and before she knew it, she found herself buying a whole bottle for herself.

The floor of Wanda’s therapist’s clinic is covered in a plush carpet, its gentle fibers creating a muted sound as Wanda keeps grazing the heel of her shoes on it.

“I wouldn’t label it as such just yet. I believe a more suitable term would be 'setback'. It's merely what it is - a setback. It doesn't undo all the progress you’ve made, Wanda. Just because you had one drink–"

“It wasn’t just one drink–” Wanda tries to argue.

“One, two, ten drinks in one night, doesn’t make you an alcoholic.”

The air in the room carries a subtle hint of lavender, emanating from scented candles strategically placed on a nearby shelf. The calming scent enhances the ambiance, helping Wanda relax.

Originally planned for the following day, Wanda insisted on meeting today, burdened by guilt over the events of last night. Unlike before, when Wanda would postpone their meeting in the hope of resolving her problems independently, she learned the difficult lesson that trying to handle everything alone can sometimes make matters worse. However, the most challenging lesson she had to learn was simply to ask for help when she needed it.

“So,” Wanda says, scratching her wrist anxiously. “Do we start from the beginning again?”

"Not necessarily," Dr. Williams, or Calliope as she prefers Wanda to call her, adjusts her reading glasses and chuckles. At the age of mid-fifties, Dr. Williams exudes a calming aura that instantly puts Wanda at ease.

"But you haven't told me what prompted you to reach for the bottle last night. Are you comfortable sharing that detail?" Calliope inquires.

Wanda nods, clearing her throat as she reaches for a pillow from the couch. Placing it on her lap, she begins to pinch it at random areas, using it as a makeshift stress ball.

She chooses her words carefully as she begins, "I saw Y/N yesterday." Discussing you in these sessions has never been easy for her, but she pushes through. "But just before that, I actually met her girlfriend."

Wanda pauses, expecting a response from Calliope, but instead, she receives an encouraging smile, urging her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Wanda opens up further.

“Her name is Yelena. She’s the sister of Y/N’s best friend, Natasha. She’s… beautiful. She seems kinda perfect for her.”

Calliope maintains her composure and asks evenly, "How does that make you feel?"

Wanda hesitates for a moment, processing the question. "About my ex-wife moving on with someone new…?"

Calliope nods patiently.

The question hangs in the air for a minute before Wanda can gather what she truly feels about you and Yelena.

"She... Y/N deserves to be happy more than anyone else. If Yelena brings her that happiness, then..." Wanda's voice trails off as her gaze drifts away, lost in her own thoughts. She realizes that Yelena is not just a passing fling or a random person in your life. You've known her since you were kids, and she probably holds a special place in your heart. Wanda understands that you wouldn't enter into a relationship with her if it were just a rebound. Especially considering she’s your best friend's sister.

It’s a real relationship–one where you could see a future and think long term.

And despite Wanda's months of anticipation and worry about being replaced, nothing could prepare her for the intense pain of it actually happening. Tears start welling up in the corners of her eyes, which ironically surprises Wanda considering how thoroughly dehydrated she was from last night.

“I’m asking you how you feel about it, not what you think about it.” Calliope says.

Wanly, she flashes a smile that’s devoid of joy. “What do you think?”

Calliope doesn’t indulge her rhetorical question. "You don't have to rush into feeling a certain way," she assures her, her voice gentle yet resolute. "Allow yourself the time and space to navigate these emotions.”

Wanda falls silent at that, avoiding direct eye contact with her therapist.

"Wanda?" Calliope's voice gently prods her.

After a few moments, Wanda finally looks up, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Calliope has seen enough of Wanda under different types of emotions to take a good guess of what would happen in the next few minutes. A box of tissue sits somewhere in her office, but she doesn’t retrieve them just yet, creating a space where Wanda can freely express herself without any external expectations or assumptions.

“It ripped me apart,” Wanda confesses, her voice trembling. "Seeing her up close, wearing Y/N's clothes, I couldn't help but think, 'that used to be me'. I had my own memories with that exact same shirt." she says, bursting into a teary laugh by the end of her sentence.

Calliope drops her gaze, giving her patient a little room to express herself without feeling scrutinized.

Wanda swallows dryly, taking a moment to compose herself before continuing. "I wasn't exactly surprised," she admits with a hint of resignation. "Deep down, I knew there could be someone special in Y/N's life, but–I guess you could say I was in denial. I fooled myself into believing that if I never met her, I could pretend that I still had a place in Y/N’s heart, and that–that I had a chance of winning it back."

Wanda pauses, grateful that she’s able to hold back her tears so far. “It felt like… like I was being splashed with a bucket of ice water. I was forced to come to terms–again–that she’s no longer my wife, and the possibility that she could be someone else’s…literally stood in front of me.” she says.

Wanda appreciates that Calliope isn't the type of therapist who takes notes during their sessions. The thought of someone immediately jotting down what she says would send her anxiety skyrocketing. It would consume her with thoughts of what could have been written about her. Instead, Calliope simply nods her head, but she’s made it clear from the beginning that this gesture is not necessarily an agreement with what Wanda is saying, but rather a way to show that she is being fully and attentively heard.

"I can only imagine how painful and challenging it must have been for you," Calliope empathizes, clasping her hands together on her lap. "To be confronted with the harsh reality, without any inkling or preparation, it can be incredibly jarring and overwhelming. But you've taken an important step by acknowledging and sharing your feelings."

Wanda weakly nods, appreciating the sentiment.

“With that said, you had a normal reaction to it. But we must work on how you deal with that reaction–and by that I mean the drinking,” Calliope lightly reprimands with a smile, making Wanda let out a brief, self-deprecating laugh. “Another thing for you to reflect on is what it means for you. It’s not very productive to think about what moving on to a new relationship means for Y/N. You can’t keep guessing if it means she’s already moved on from your previous marriage or that she no longer has any lingering feelings for you. Those questions are meant for herself, not you. So, have you had some time to think about it?”

Wanda shakes her head no.

“That’s okay. Now that you’ve experienced your initial reaction on the matter, you can re-evaluate it some time later this week–if it’s what you actually feel,” she advises. “Time can be our ally in gaining clarity and rationality. Often, our judgment is clouded when the fog of emotions hasn't dissipated. So, make use of time wisely to make better decisions in the future."

“I wish I could just have you around all the time to remind me of that.” Wanda jokes lightly, feeling some of the burden on her chest lift.

"You don't need me, or anyone else for that matter, to monitor your every thought and decision, Wanda," Calliope says. “Have faith in yourself. You are more than capable of making the right choices. Always remember that.”

“I’ll try,” Wanda says.

Calliope nods, and then moves on to other topics for the rest of the session.

Your past action doesn’t determine who you are for the rest of your life, Wanda repeats Calliope’s words to her during her first visit weeks ago.

She wonders how much longer it will take for her to truly believe it.

***

Around the same time that Wanda is seeing her therapist, you arrive at her cafe. You’re quite nervous to face Wanda this time, as both of you would be sober, and you've come to realize that your interactions can sometimes be easier when one of you isn't.

The air is filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, intermingled with the subtle scent of freshly baked pastries. The sound of acoustic Indie music–no doubt one of Wanda’s playlists–fills the cozy space, creating a soothing backdrop for conversations and quiet reflection. There are two customers dining in, too enthralled with each other to notice you or anyone in the room.

In the past few weeks, you haven't set foot inside a coffee shop. Yelena has been responsible for preparing your morning coffee each day, while you handle breakfast duties, having discovered early on that she struggles to operate any sort of small kitchen appliance, even something as simple as a toaster. Furthermore, your work obligations have kept you firmly stationed at your desk, requiring your undivided focus.

You’re equally relieved and disappointed to see Agatha Harkness behind the open kitchen, eyeing you with a unique interest. A new face catches your attention at the register, a friendly-looking high school kid. Curiosity piques within you, wondering about his identity and his relationship with Wanda.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Agatha says with an indiscernible grin, emerging from the staff-only section to greet you. "We didn't get to catch up last time."

You can't help but recall the timing of your last visit and the unspeakable things you did with Wanda then. The memory flushes your cheeks with embarrassment.

“Is Wanda around?” you ask, taking a bar stool seat near the window.

“She had to be somewhere important, but she’ll be back soon.” Agatha replies, and moves to sit next to you, to your mild astonishment. And then, turning to the kid, Agatha yells, “I’ll take five, Peter. Will you be okay there?”

“I got this Ms. Harkness!”

“Charming boy,” Agatha remarks, sensing your curiosity. “He’s just what this cafe needs.”

“He looks too young to be employed.” you comment offhandedly.

"Don't worry, dear, it's just part-time. And in case you're wondering," Agatha says, relishing the conflicted expression on your face. "He and your ex-wife, it's strictly professional."

"I wasn't wondering about that," you reply sharply, squaring your shoulders.

"Oh, sorry, I must have misread the way you're biting your lip so hard as you shoot daggers at the poor boy."

You weren’t. Not exactly. But you admit that you were intrigued because he doesn’t look too far off Vision’s age. Despite harboring these suspicions, you make a conscious effort to keep them to yourself, fully aware of how unfair they may seem to Wanda. Agatha’s efforts to expose them, however, is putting you on the edge more than usual.

"Whatever Wanda chooses to do with her life is her choice." you say.

"Are you sure? If only you knew..." Agatha trails off, a mischievous smile on her lips. Wanda would be furious if she knew Agatha was hinting at her past hospitalization to you, but Agatha couldn't resist testing your claim of indifference towards Wanda's life and choices.

"Knew what?"

"Hm," Agatha muses, teasingly. "I really shouldn't say."

You roll your eyes, growing frustrated with the cryptic nature of the conversation. It's not a guessing game you're interested in playing.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect as the boy–Peter–approaches your table to take your order.

“Can I get your order, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asks with a politeness that you think is rare for kids to possess these days.

“You know me?” you ask, striving to maintain a gentle tone in your voice.

Peter's eyes widen as he realizes his slip-up. Wanda had mentioned your name in passing during conversations with Agatha, and he had been curious to know more about you but too shy to ask Wanda directly. It was Agatha who showed him a picture of you and shortly introduced you as Wanda's ex-wife.

“Uh, no, I don’t?”

You laugh, endeared by his innocence. You decide to let it slide. “I’ll have a medium-sized Spanish Latte. Hot, please.”

“How about a bite to eat? We have new food items on the menu. I recommend the Reuben.” Peter suggests.

You nod with a friendly smile. “Sure, I’ll give it a try.”

He looks pleased as he taps his pen on his notepad and says, “Coming right up!”

“I like him,” you comment lightly to Agatha, watching him hum a song as he prepares your order. “He seems to be genuinely concerned about selling and pleasing the customers.”

“Originally, it was his girlfriend that Wanda hired, but she had to quit due to some personal stuff. She and Peter came to love it here, so he volunteered to take her place.” Agatha explains. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about Wanda’s new staff.”

"No, I didn't," you confirm, maintaining a nonchalant expression, not willing to provide any additional information.

“Have you been dating?” Agatha blurts out all of a sudden.

“That’s really none of your business.” you say as non-offensively as you could.

“Since I started helping out here, Wanda and I have become close,” Agatha says. “I wasn't only being curious with my question. I believe that Wanda respecting your privacy may not be beneficial for her progress. So, if you think I’m nosy for wanting to know whether your presence in her life will be harmful, then so be it."

You consider this for a moment, feeling a small appreciation for Agatha’s loyalty to Wanda. Recognizing that Wanda has few friends in her life, having someone like Agatha who is willing to stand by her side and offer support is truly invaluable.

“Yes, I am.” you confirm, keeping a neutral expression. You're not actively attempting to hide it; it’s just not like you to announce your new relationship to everyone you’re acquainted with.

"Thank you for being honest," Agatha’s gratitude comes across with a smidge of condescension. "However, if you truly cared about Wanda, I believe it would be best for you to distance yourself from her."

The insinuation that you never cared infuriates you, as you feel the situation has been twisted just because you’ve been trying to move on with someone else.

“I’m just here to ask about Sparky,” you say, hating that you feel the need to explain.

"Your eyes tell a different story," Agatha retorts, her words dripping with misplaced superiority. Few things are more aggravating than someone who presumes to know you completely. It's one of the many reasons why you never warmed up to her.

With a dismissive scoff, you pivot in your chair, fully turning to face Agatha.

“Even if they do, it’s still none of your business.” you remind her.

Agatha's smile carries a subtle implication, suggesting that she knows something you don’t; that if you do, you’d have a different opinion altogether.

“I don’t like these games, Agatha,” you say. “If there’s something you want to say to me–”

“Sorry, Y/N. As much as I want to see the look on your face when you find out what you did, it’s not my story to tell.”

You recall leaving the back room and discovering Agatha only a few feet away, observing your actions the last time you were here. It's clear that she had an inkling of what you and Wanda were doing in that tiny room. If they were indeed friends, then as Wanda’s friend, you could understand why she’s being so catty with you at this moment.

Your lips part, deliberating over what to say, until you finally manage to voice what you believe Agatha most likely wants to hear.

"There’s no excuse for how I treated Wanda that week,” you speak slowly, meaning every word. “I’m not here to gain your trust or anything, but I’m not here to hurt Wanda. We’ve both been hurt enough, as you know.”

For a prolonged moment, Agatha looks at you with an unreadable expression, before shaking her head sadly as if she had hoped to hear a different response or perhaps something more substantial.

"No, dear, that's not it," she responds a while later. Her gaze is briefly drawn to someone in the street, prompting her to retreat to the kitchen. However, before leaving, she hints at a game of Hot and Cold and then cryptically utters, "But you're getting warmer."

You follow where her eyes had been and spot the familiar sight of Wanda, making her way towards the cafe. She’s wearing a chunky knit sweater in warm earth tones paired with slim-fitting jeans in a deep indigo hue, presenting a casual yet put-together appearance. Her face appears refreshed and free from the visible traces of the previous night's arduous struggles.

It’s around this time that your heart decides to resume its loud thumping in your chest. In contrast to the previous day, both of you now stand on equal ground, and you keenly feel the burden of how you both left things, looming over your head.

As soon as she steps into the café, your name hesitantly escapes from her lips. She looks unsure and somewhat guarded in your presence, and while it doesn’t–shouldn’t–personally upset you, you can’t help but feel guilty if you’re causing her discomfort.

“Wanda,” you give her a little wave, flashing her a small smile that nonetheless reaches your eyes. Her eyes seem to light up in response, and she mirrors your smile with one of her own that’s equal parts civil and nostalgic.

"What brings you here?" she asks, settling into the seat that Agatha previously occupied. "When you mentioned that we would talk, I didn't expect it to happen so soon. I mean, not that I... the last time you said 'we'll talk,' it never..." Her voice trails off, and she winces, realizing she's unintentionally delving into the past. It's something she's been actively avoiding, as unearthing those details has only intensified the resentment she discovered she also held towards you.

Calliope worked with her on the turbulent feelings of abandonment she went through when you walked out of her apartment–and her life for that matter–that night, despite giving you repeatedly what she thought you wanted. In the end, she managed to reevaluate things and adopt a new perspective, for which she felt immense gratitude towards you for having the courage to walk away when she couldn't. If the tumultuous situation had gone longer, she couldn't help but wonder if her overdose would have been even more severe, and if she’d still be living and breathing and having this normal conversation with you today.

“I’m usually very busy on weekdays. This is the only spare time I have. Not to mention house chores and, well, catching up with life in general.” you reason. “And the matter concerning Sparky seemed urgent and alarming.”

Wanda nods and looks at her watch which she always wears on her right wrist. “I’ve got thirty minutes.” she says.

"Great," you reply, concealing your amusement at the fact that Wanda has you on a tight schedule. She appears to have transformed into an entirely different person compared to the Wanda you encountered last night and more than two months ago.

Just then, Peter arrives with your order, and Wanda gives you some space to eat first. You try not to rush into getting a bite of your Reuben, but you suppose the clock is ticking. It’s good–just how you remember it when Wanda makes it in your own kitchen.

"Is Sparky going to be alright? Where did you take him?" you inquire, licking the sauce residue off your lips, missing a spot. You miss the way Wanda unwittingly follows the movement of your tongue before refocusing her attention on another part of your face.

"I brought him to a clinic near my place. It's just a short walk away, so it's convenient for me to check on him," Wanda explains, pushing a box of napkins towards you and pointing out a spot on your chin. Uttering a shy thank you, you gently wipe the area with a napkin. “His doctor called me this morning. She thinks Sparky could go home today.”

“That’s a relief,” you mutter, taking a sip of your latte. “Should I accompany you later when they discharge him?”

Wanda is taken aback by the offer, her heart leaping with excitement, despite her efforts to maintain control and composure when it comes to you.

"Uh, sure. I think Sparky would benefit from seeing you. The doctor said that seeing their owner does help make them feel better." Wanda replies.

“Oh, I thought he’s recovered since he’s going home?”

“His medications will continue at home. They actually already sent me a long list of it.” she says.

“I can buy them. You've probably already spent a lot on his hospitalization.”

"I really appreciate your willingness to help," Wanda says, her fingers fidgeting with her necklace. She used to habitually fiddle with the wedding band on her left finger, and now she finds herself instinctively touching the necklace, even though the ring has been relocated to her chest. It has become a symbol of comfort for Wanda when she feels the need to quell her anxiety; and right now, she's anxious about not wanting to come across as dismissive of your efforts. She doesn't want to burden you with a responsibility that you may not want to share.

“But?” you prod gently, sensing her hesitation.

"I only wanted to inform you about his condition, just in case it took a turn for the worse," Wanda clarifies. “I didn’t mean for you to feel obliged to share the responsibility. I just thought… If our roles were reversed, I would want to know if a dog, who’s been a part of my family, is not doing so well.”

You contemplate this for a moment, and then let out a sad chuckle. "I've been such an asshole to him, haven't I?"

“Y/N, that’s not what I was implying–”

“It’s okay,” you tell her softly, staring at your half-eaten sandwich. Honestly, you’ve lost your appetite a while ago. “You’re right… I abandoned him. You don’t do that to your family.”

Wanda sighs and carefully says, “Sparky might not understand human language, but I'd like to believe he senses it somehow–that if circumstances were different and it didn't jeopardize your own well-being, you wouldn't just abandon him.”

A strong desire wells up within her to reach out and hold your hand, but she restrains herself, recognizing that it may be too soon. Given the shared history between the two of you when it comes to physical touch, especially now that you're in a relationship with Yelena, she considers that it might be best to refrain from such altogether.

"Thank you," you whisper softly. "I still think I’m an asshole, but thank you for saying that and taking good care of him.”

Wanda’s smile is soft, feeling the sincerity behind your words. “You’re welcome,” she says.

Checking the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, you still have Wanda for a couple of minutes.

“Listen, about what happened last night–” you start, but Wanda hastily cuts you off with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, about that... I can't apologize enough for causing you trouble. It was also bad luck that he was there, and I didn’t know what he was doing until you arrived. He shouldn’t have called you,” Wanda says, drumming her fingers on the surface of the table, eager to escape this topic.

“… And I shouldn’t have been drinking so much either.” Wanda finishes sheepishly.

“Why were you though?” You remember Wanda saying something happened last night. Very briefly, your eyes shift to Agatha, who looks back at you expectantly.

Wanda lowers her head in response; her feelings for you aren't up for discussion.

“I ran into some friends from the gallery and things just got out of hand.” Wanda says, praying that you don’t follow up with more questions knowing how easily you’ll be able to find loopholes in her faux story.

“And they just left you there?”

Wanda curses inwardly, her mind racing to address the detail you brought up. "They had to leave early, but I actually enjoyed having some time to myself," she responds, attempting to downplay any significance behind being alone.

“I see,” you say, and Wanda can clearly tell you’re not buying it. But to her relief, you let it go.

“Wanda, did something happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, not with Agatha lurking in your peripheral vision.

Wanda blinks at you and says, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Wanda, we–” you begin, attempting to broach the subject of the week where you lost sight of who you were. However, as your mind brushes against the memory of Wanda, vulnerable and pleading with you to stay while naked on the floor, the words get stuck in your throat, causing a nauseating sensation to rise from the pit of your stomach. “I treated you very horribly all those weeks ago–”

“I don’t hold it against you,” Wanda whispers, feeling the remnants of shame from being an active participant in that due to her own selfishness. "And you did the right thing by walking away." Wanda’s words are laced with an unspoken sentiment.

Though she hesitates to verbalize the thought of you leaving her, it lingers in the air between you both, a painful reminder of the consequences of her decisions. Every stupid, little thing she did has led to this, and being in therapy helped. For Wanda, her regrets are slowly being replaced with opportunities to rebuild herself on.

“So, when I left that night, nothing happened? Agatha mentioned that something–”

“She said what?” Wanda narrows her eyes. She hopes it isn’t about that night when she had to get her stomach pumped at a public hospital, as a result of her despair for not being able to keep you from leaving. She made Agatha swear never to reveal that information to you.

“She didn’t exactly divulge anything to me,” you say. “But she said I should hear it from you.”

Wanda makes a mental note to discuss it with Agatha later, but for now, her focus is on steering you away from any knowledge of what happened that night.

But before Wanda can come up with something to convince you that nothing significant happened, the familiar sound of your ringtone erupts from your pocket, disrupting the moment.

“Excuse me,” you mumble and Wanda nods, checking the time again on her wrist. “I have to arrange some stocks anyway.” she tells you, taking the chance to excuse herself too.

“I’m on my way home,” you say as soon as you pick up after stepping outside the cafe.

“Would a hello kill you?” you hear Yelena’s teasing tone, making you smile on cue.

“Hello,” you greet her the best way you can.

“Hi,” she says right back with a giggle.

“Hellooo,” you playfully repeat.

“As much as I want to keep this going,” Yelena interjects with a huff. “I kinda have to remind you that you’re not supposed to be on your way home.”

“What? Why?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“The gala is tonight,” Yelena says, and you can tell that she’s refraining from sounding a little annoyed that you apparently forgot.

“Oh, right. I did put that in my calendar. Sorry,” you say. “But I did schedule to pick up my dress today. So, I should get going.”

“Nice save, baby.” Yelena says.

The use of the nickname catches you off guard. It’s the first time Yelena’s called you that, and you fail to respond right away, recalling the last time you affectionately used the term 'baby' with someone as your gaze involuntarily follows Wanda's movements inside the cafe.

Yelena's nervous voice breaks through your thoughts, calling your attention back to the present. "Y/N?" she calls out tentatively.

You take a moment to collect yourself before responding, assuring her, "I'm still here. Uh, I'll pick you up at five? Let's have dinner early. Food at events like these never gets served on time."

Yelena agrees to the plan, and you end the call. Returning inside, you approach Wanda to deliver the news that you won't be able to accompany her to the clinic for Sparky's discharge.

"It's not a problem," Wanda assures you. "You can see him anytime you want, just let me know beforehand–that is, if you're amenable to unblocking my number on your phone. But if you’re not–”

"Actually, I unblocked your number a while ago," you say, trying to brush off the implication that you’ve thought about her enough to take that action. Wanda, on the other hand, does her best not to dwell on it and keeps a straight face.

"Okay, well," Wanda continues, shifting gears and offering you a paper box containing three large cookies. "Thank you for coming. You can take these cookies with you."

“You didn’t have to.” you say, accepting the gift anyway. You were married to Wanda long enough to know how offended she’d be when someone refuses her gift of food.

“You’re welcome,” Wanda says, and then turning on her heel, she goes back to the counter without another word.

After you leave the cafe, Wanda approaches Agatha, whose expression immediately turns guilty as she notices the exasperated look on Wanda's face.

"I told you. Not a word," Wanda says sternly.

"Technically, I didn't say anything," Agatha raises her hands in defense.

Wanda narrows her eyes. "You were dropping hints, though, weren't you?"

Agatha sighs. "Wanda, don't you think this is a bad idea? You’ve been doing so well in the recent months. I just don’t want you to go through that again."

"That was an accident," Wanda responds, rubbing her temple, still feeling the effects of her heavy drinking from the previous night. "I'm not... I won't let it happen again."

"Sorry to break it to you, honey," Agatha says gently, handing Wanda a glass of water along with an ibuprofen. "But with Y/N, you're treading on thin ice."

Wanda takes the water and ibuprofen, looking at Agatha with a mix of gratitude and frustration. She knows deep down that Agatha is right, but when it comes to you, her brain rarely catches up to her heart.

***

Held in one of New York’s most celebrated skyscrapers, the grand formal gala unfolds in an opulent venue that exudes elegance and sophistication. It’s certainly far from what you were expecting, especially since Yelena described it to you as a “little company-wide gathering”.

"Are you ready?" you hear Yelena whisper, her voice filled with exhilaration as she takes a deep breath. You nod in reply and feel the back of your neck start to sweat.

Stepping out of the rented limousine that Yelena was so pleased to surprise you with, you're immediately greeted by a frenzy of flashing lights and clicking cameras, tempting you to seek refuge back in the vehicle. The paparazzi clamors for the perfect angle, their lenses eagerly focused on the red carpet.

The room is a visual spectacle, filled with a sea of elegant fashion and dazzling jewelry. And although this is the most grand you’ve felt in your whole life, you feel a little underdressed for the occasion. The sounds of soft classical music resonate throughout the hall, played by a live orchestra positioned on a raised stage. Clinking glasses and murmurs of conversation intermingle with the melodies, adding a delightful liveliness of an otherwise intimidating ambiance.

That’s when you feel Yelena’s warm hand slot into yours.

“Are you okay?” she inquires quietly, and you can feel her hot breath fanning over the ridges of your ear. She’s wearing a red, backless Valentino gown that’s partly what’s making you nervous.

You interlace your fingers together, automatically putting a smile on Yelena’s face, as you swallow dryly and reply with, “As long as you’re by my side.”

“I’m not gonna leave you”, she promises softly. “Except when they have to call me onstage.”

Your eyebrows furrow in question.

"I'm being honored," Yelena exclaims, her grin spreading across her face as she looks up at you with excitement. "Kate nominated me for the Sydney Award. It's nothing huge, they give it out every month. But, still..." Her words trail off as she notices the intensity of your gaze, and a blush creeps onto her cheeks.

"Baby, you won an award?" you blurt out, unintentionally letting the nickname she used on you earlier slip. But in this moment, your pride for Yelena fills you to the brim, and your affection for her spills over.

Yelena, rendered speechless by the endearment, could only manage a nod in response. Overwhelmed with her desire to be close to you, she takes hold of your face and presses her lips against yours, right in the midst of the crowded room. The atmosphere fades away as her focus narrows down to the connection between the two of you, surrounded by a sea of strangers donned in elegant tuxedos and exquisite gowns, their vibrant colors paling in comparison to the intensity of her feelings for you. The glitz and glamor of the event mean nothing to her in this instance. All that matters is that you're by her side, sharing in one of the proudest and most significant moments of her life.

You’re in a daze when she finally pulls away. “What was that for?” you breathe out, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“That was me claiming my reward early.” Yelena husks out, pecking you once more for good measure. Desire coils in your belly; it takes every ounce of self-control to resist acting on the raw desire that courses through your body, knowing that the time and place aren't quite right.

Your girl still needs to get that damn award she truly deserves.

“I’m gonna go get us some champagne.” she says. You’re not really a fan of champagne but it does seem to fit the occasion.

"Sure, I'll head over there," you gesture with your thumb towards the dessert section adorned with an assortment of cakes and pastries. “I suddenly want something sweet, and I can’t have you yet, so–”

Yelena's cheeks flush a bright shade of red, and you can't help but hope it's not just from embarrassment. Tonight, there's a possibility that you could finally take your relationship to the next level–something you’ve been preparing yourself mentally and emotionally for. You knew that Yelena was patiently waiting for you to be ready, and you understood that there's only so long you can keep her waiting before she starts doubting your feelings for her. The last thing you want is to inadvertently hurt her by not taking the next step; moreso with the recent knowledge that her love language is primarily physical touch.

“If you don’t behave I might have to pass up on that award.” Yelena teases back, biting her lip as she eyes you like one of those cakes that’s been tempting you since you spotted them.

“I wouldn’t want you to miss your moment,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now, about that champagne?”

Yelena lets out a playful laugh and reluctantly pulls herself away from your embrace though she clearly doesn't want to. You take pleasure in watching her walk away, appreciating the elegant curve of her spine and the gentle sway of her back muscles with each graceful step she takes.

A few minutes later, lost in your thoughts of your girlfriend as you pick out the cakes on display, you hear a voice behind you, interrupting your reverie.

“Glad to see you chose to do the right thing.”

You look over your shoulder to find Kate Bishop, radiant in a purple trumpet gown that accentuates her curves in all the right places. She doesn't appear as vexed with you as she did during your initial meeting.

In the short time you’ve been with Yelena, you've made casual attempts to bring up Kate in conversations, but it has always remained focused on work-related topics, even after she moved in with you. You tried to ask how Kate felt about her moving out, but Yelena dismissed it, asking you a similar question when you moved out of Natasha’s.

You're uncertain about what to feel with the fact that Yelena is aware of Kate's feelings for her.

Scratch that. You’re not sure how you feel about Yelena not telling you that she knows.

"Kate," you say, hesitantly extending your hand towards her. "Nice to see you here."

“Y/N,” Kate accepts your hand, her grip firm yet amicable, as the two of you exchange a brief handshake. “You look good.”

“Thanks, you too,” you say, looking down at your own dress. “Never knew I could pull off something this fancy.”

"Get used to it, this is probably not the only black-tie party you'll attend as long as you're dating her," Kate remarks, scanning the room in search of the woman she's referring to.

“She went to get drinks,” you tell her when you awkwardly find yourself just standing there while her eyes dart everywhere for a considerable moment.

“I haven’t missed her awarding, have I?” she asks, her worry evident. And it’s uncomfortable for you to witness this person be so hopelessly in love with your girlfriend.

You shake her head, giving her a tight smile.

“I was the one who sent in her nomination, you know?” Kate says, and you can hear how proud she is of that. A part of you wishes Kate had never revealed her feelings for Yelena to you, seeing that it seems like a trivial matter to Yelena–an unrequited crush that she didn’t feel the need to disclose. You can sense that Kate isn't intentionally gushing over Yelena; she simply can't help it. It's hard to hold back when you feel so strongly for someone; it’s a feeling that’s rather familiar to you.

“Yeah, Yelena told me. Thank you for that. I’ve never seen her so happy.” you say, stuffing yourself with chocolate cake, hoping to avoid any inadvertent questioning about Kate's future plans to move on from Yelena.

"She deserves it. Especially since she's been quite tense at work," Kate continues, and it seems the topic of Yelena isn’t going to be replaced anytime soon. "I try to lighten the mood but my dad jokes aren't as effective as before."

“Dad jokes?”

Kate shrugs and then says, "Yelena's humor is either that or sarcasm." As she speaks, a twinge of insecurity starts to creep into your thoughts. You can't help but wonder if Kate, with her close connection to Yelena, knows her on a deeper level than you do.

“Well, why haven’t you done something about it yet?” Kate asks lightly with a chuckle.

"What do you mean?" you ask, wanting clarification before jumping to conclusions.

Kate lets out a snort, as if she finds it amusing that you're oblivious to what she's insinuating.

"Yelena's always like that when she hasn't, um... taken care of certain needs," Kate explains, her voice momentarily faltering before she dismisses it with a laugh. "You know, gotten some."

Your mind suddenly freezes at the implications of Kate's words, and you feel a jolt of realization.

“And how would you know that?” you say, your voice suddenly rising. “Unless you were previously helping her take care of these ‘certain needs’.”

Kate's eyes widen in surprise, and you observe her gulp nervously.

“Wow, Y/N, aren’t you quite the detective–” Kate attempts to placate you with a joke.

“Answer me,” you say. “Please. I need to know if what you two had was completely one-sided.”

“It was,” Kate insists, giving up on using humor to thread her way out of this confrontation. "I was the one who developed feelings. Yelena didn't feel the same way." She averts her gaze, wearing a pained expression.

You wanted a clearer confirmation of your suspicions. “So you were sleeping together.” you say.

“I think this is a conversation you need to have with her, not me,” Kate says. “But don’t take this out on her, please. If she didn’t tell you she probably has good reason–”

"You're right, I should talk to Yelena not you," you scoff, feeling a sense of unease creeping in. "I'll see you around, Kate."

Yelena finds you in the lounge area near the entrance of the ballroom.

"I've been searching all over for you," she exclaims, her worry palpable in her voice.

Without lifting your gaze, you softly reply, "I'm not feeling well."

Immediately, Yelena springs into action, eager to assist you. “Oh, did something happen? Was it something you ate? I think I can ask Martin, our staff nurse, if he has something for you to–”

You interrupt her with a gentle but firm statement, "I just want to go home."

“Go home?” Yelena repeats your words, slightly taken aback. "But I haven't had the chance to go up on stage yet–"

“I’m sorry,” you say, rising from the couch. The sight of Yelena in that moment, coupled with the new information you've learned from Kate, is literally causing a wave of dizziness.

Yelena gapes at you helplessly; she can't understand the sudden shift in your demeanor. She swears you were ready to jump on each other’s bones half an hour ago.

"Y/N!" she calls out, stopping you in your tracks. "Did I do something wrong?"

Yes, your instinct wants you to tell her, but you don't want to spoil her special night, dampen her excitement, or distract her from accepting the recognition she deserves.

"I'll see you at home," you say, mustering a smile that you hope will convince her to give you some space for now.

With that, you slip off your pumps and make your way barefoot towards the elevator in the lobby, leaving behind a puzzled Yelena.

#first of all calliope!!! i imagined her as dr. torres #second of all its good for wanda to attend therapy #third of all i think that she shouldn’t keep in touch with reader #BUT at the same time i want them to be together and just work it out #this is all so confusing #also why didn’t yelena tell us about her secrets !!!#😡😡😡😡#MASTERPIECE #breaking down in tears on my bathroom floor

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

Text

literally a masterpiece

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (9/22)

Chapter summary: Several weeks later, an unfortunate situation drives Wanda to seek you out, only to be met with someone she least expects.

Chapter word count: 9k

Pairing: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader (heavy in this chapter)

Author's note: And we start the second phase :)

AO3 | Masterlist

Nine

Five Weeks Later

“By the power invested in me, by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister reads from his pamphlet without as much as a glance to the enamored audience.

Wanda hadn’t known that she was going to attend a wedding near the start of autumn; if she had, she’d have been more than ready with an ensemble that’s appropriate for both the event and the cold season. To be fair, Pietro hadn’t known either. Just a week ago, Shannon surprised him with a date, a venue, and a business card of some designer that she commissioned to provide Pietro’s suit for the ceremony. Wanda might have considered it a trap if it hadn't been for the fact that Pietro was the one on his knees with a ring a year ago. Shannon had simply grown tired of his excuses and took matters into her own hands. Wanda still thinks it’s a colossal mistake but his history with women and commitments tracks. She just wants to know how many more of these she’ll have to attend for the rest of her life.

“You may kiss the–”

The minister is cut off by Pietro diving in for a sloppy kiss, and the small crowd of thirty people cheer the newly weds. Wanda claps for the sake of being a good attendant. She almost feels sorry for Shannon, but if she wanted this, she probably wanted it for the wrong reasons.

And, well, karma is a bitch.

Having been sober for exactly thirty-two days, Wanda’s been nursing the same mocktail she’s had before the start of the program, and she finds it difficult to enjoy anything that’s watered-down. A longing to light a cigarette tugs at her, but the establishment's strict no-smoking policy extends even to the outdoor gardens. Pietro asked that she stays until the party’s over, and knowing how much her presence means to him, she reluctantly agreed.

“Stop brooding at my wedding, for god’s sake.”

It’s Shannon, dressed in her second gown, a simpler one that makes it hard to tell her apart from her bridesmaids.

"Hi, Shannon," Wanda drawls, swirling the tiny ice left in her rocks glass.

"It's Mrs. Maximoff now," Shannon mutters proudly, displaying both her wedding and engagement rings.

Wanda hides her grimace behind her drink. “Try not to get used to it though. I’m pretty sure you’re aware that there had been two other Mrs. Maximoffs in his past.”

“Don’t sass me on my wedding day, it’s just disrespectful.”

“Point taken. I’d offer to get you a drink, but I think that’s just gonna push the stick further up your ass.”

Shannon sourly responds with one of her signature fake smiles, but Wanda can see through the facade. She takes pride in having hit a nerve.

Taking the seat next to her, much to Wanda's dismay, Shannon changes the subject. "Anyway, your ex-wife is doing exceptionally well at our company. She's managed to turn around all the bad practices that have been going on for ages."

Wanda’s brows stitch together in confusion. “Your company?”

“Stark Industries.” Shannon says, taking a sip of Wanda’s untouched water.

The revelations throw her off. You didn't appear too thrilled when Wanda saw you right after your interview, so she had assumed you either didn’t get the position or you passed up on the opportunity. But what surprised her even more was discovering that someone like Shannon held a high-ranking position at a popular tech company–which now explains where the extreme confidence comes from.

Shannon smirks. “Don’t look so surprised that I work for the number one company in the world.”

“Number one?” Wanda scoffs, rubbing her nose with her middle finger. “Hardly. And why are you keeping tabs on her?”

“She works in my department and I interviewed her. She was a disaster, by the way,” Shannon says. “But her references were solid. I mean, Scott Lang? I hired her solely by his recommendation.”

Wanda can't help but smile at the mention of Scott, reminiscent of the old days when she used to host dinners for your boss and your co-workers. She doesn’t, however, dwell this time about the people you’ve brought with you when you walked out of her life. The reality is, people take sides, and rightfully, they have chosen yours.

"I'm happy for her. She's brilliant and hardworking. You won't regret having her on your team," Wanda says softly, her voice a little bittersweet; she remembers a time when she used to be the first one to know every little thing about you, and it's a feeling she misses.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re hearing this just now?” Shannon smacks her lips together and then fixes her lipstick that has stained the rim of her drink. “I thought I saw you at our lobby right after her interview.” Shannon gives her a knowing look, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and malice. It's as if she's perfectly aware of the unspeakable things you did to Wanda that day.

"Y-You did?" Wanda stammers, her blood rushing to her face.

“I assumed you were seeing each other again. You looked like a lost little housewife in your little jeans and little shirt.”

“I stopped by to bring her food. I didn’t know I had to dress up for that.”

“How sweet,” Shannon says, though her tone is barely mocking. “Well, if you’re not back together, then I have a piece of information you might find useful.”

Wanda leans back on her chair and crosses her arms in front of her. “And what makes you think I’m interested?”

“Because despite my wrong assumptions earlier, it’s clear that you’re still head over heels in love with her,” Shannon says. “Or am I wrong?”

Wanda looks away and takes a sip of her watered-down mocktail and tries to hide the displeasure on her face.

Shannon takes this as her cue to continue. “She recently changed her address in our database. I know because those things usually undergo my approval.”

You moved out? Wanda hadn't attempted to contact you, but while running errands for her cafe, she had found herself in your area a couple of times. Each time, she observed that your curtains were drawn and the lights in the living room were always turned off.

Wanda looks on quietly as Shannon reaches into her purse, retrieves an eye pencil, and grabs a napkin from the table. With deliberate movements, she begins to scribble on the napkin.

“Here,” Shannon hands Wanda the napkin with your address scrawled neatly on it. “You’re welcome.”

Wanda hesitantly accepts it, and then asks, “Why are you doing this?”

"Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic," Shannon shrugs, though the glint in her eye betrays her nonchalant demeanor. It almost penetrates Wanda’s defenses, but then she says, “Or I’m supporting your unhealthy obsession knowing it won’t lead anywhere.”

Wanda finds herself laughing. Unlike Pietro, Shannon had never treated Wanda delicately, even after her hospitalization. She finds it oddly refreshing and, in a peculiar way, endearing.

Shannon adopts a small, awkward smile herself.

“Fair enough.” Wanda says, folding the napkin carefully before putting it inside her bag.

Shannon gets up and runs her palms over the creases on her gown. “Good luck, Wanda. I’m sure you’ll be needing a lot of it.”

Pietro finds her in the gardens, rubbing her arms to keep herself warm. The nighttime breeze isn’t particularly chilly, but Wanda’s always been susceptible to the cold regardless of the season. He looks particularly dashing in the dark blue suit that Shannon picked for him; and with his hair back to its natural brunette color, the similarities between them have become uncanny once again.

“Sorry about that.” Pietro mutters as he approaches.

Wanda tilts her head at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Sorry about what?" she quips, her voice laced with humor. "You mean this wedding?"

Pietro laughs and then shakes his head. “I saw you talking to Shannon and I could tell you weren’t having the best time.”

Wanda doesn't hold back as she speaks her mind. "She's still a bitch," she says bluntly, not mincing her words. "No offense."

“Do I hear fondness in the way you said ‘bitch’?”

“Not a chance.”

“Between me and her, you forget I’m actually the asshole, right? I know she told you I cheated on her countless times.” Pietro says, somewhat seriously.

“You are,” Wanda says. “But I stand by what I said.”

Pietro sighs. “Anyway, I’m not here to negotiate how you feel towards my wife. I’m here to say goodbye.”

Wanda sobers at that. She’s been so used to having her brother in the same city, a call and a cab away.

“You’re returning to LA?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Pietro confirms with a nod.

“Doesn’t she work at Stark Industries?”

“Oh, did I tell you that?”

“She told me a while ago.” Wanda says.

“She can work remotely,” Pietro explains. “And she prefers doing that from our home in LA.”

The wind begins to pick up, its gentle breeze evolving into a stronger gust. The air becomes alive, stirring the surroundings and causing leaves to dance and swirl in a mesmerizing display.

Wanda sweeps her hair back from her face, and asks, “Tell me, honestly, why did you stay here for so long? Even before the–” Wanda finds herself having difficulty naming the accident she had more than a month ago.

But if there’s something she’s learned from therapy so far, it’s that confronting her inner demons requires acknowledging their existence.

“Before my overdose.” Wanda finishes, managing to keep her tone even.

Pietro regards her with a tender look that conveys his immense pride in her recent growth and progress.

“At first, I just wanted to check in on you,” he says, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit. “And when I saw you and the cafe, I thought ‘see, she doesn’t need you’. But at the same time I also realized it was me–I needed you.”

Pietro pauses and rubs the back of his neck–something he does a lot when he’s trying not to be emotional.

"I missed you, Wands. These past few months, I've felt more like myself than I have in years. I know I'm free to visit you anytime, even when you and Y/N were still together, but it's just not the same when–"

“–when it’s just us.” Wanda finishes for him, her voice thick with emotions that her brother is trying so hard to hold at bay.

“Yeah. I had a really great time with you here, it was good to be home after so many years.”

“LA is your home.” Wanda reminds him.

"You're my family, Wands," Pietro says, wrapping an arm around her and giving her a warm side hug. "You're my home too."

“I love you, Piet.”

“I love you too, sis,” Pietro says. “I’m rooting for you–your happiness. Whether it’s with Y/N or someone else or no one. You deserve to be happy. You have a big heart–I know this because you love me just as I am.”

“Then why don’t you just stay here so we can be close to each other all the time?” Wanda sniffs. So many losses. So many changes. Wanda craves normalcy and consistency–things you used to provide in her life with your steady presence.

“Shannon’s family lives in LA, and we’ve already talked about settling there once we’re married.”

Wanda shakes her head, smiling in contempt.

Pietro notices the change in her demeanor and starts rubbing her arm in comfort. “Don’t blame Shannon for this. I suggested it because she’s more comfortable living there if we’re going to start a family.”

“You’re already talking about babies? Piet, that’s a huge step.” she says.

Pietro falls into a thoughtful silence, weighing the decision of whether to share the news with Wanda now or wait a little longer. However, the anticipation and joy of becoming a father soon overpowers his doubts.

With a burst of excitement, he finally speaks up. "Actually, she's pregnant."

"Wow," Wanda exclaims, embracing him tightly, more than thrilled at the news. But as suspicion creeps in, she pulls away abruptly. "Hold on, is that why you rushed into marriage? Because she's pregnant?"

“No. She actually just told me last night, as a wedding gift.” Pietro says.

“I’m going to be an aunt?” Wanda giggles. “I mean, congratulations! You’re going to be a dad!”

"Thank you, Wands," Pietro says, returning the hug.

Wanda pauses for a moment, a realization dawning on her. "I should stop being mean to her," she admits.

Pietro chuckles. "My advice is to take everything she says or does with a grain of salt."

Wanda's expression softens. "I'm going to miss you, you know? Your future kid, and, fuck it–even Shannon. I'll try to visit this Christmas, okay?"

"You better. I already got you plane tickets."

“Oh, and Piet?”

“Yep?”

“I’ll cut your balls off if you cheat on your wife again this time. Not because she’s having your child, but because it’s… not normal. It’s fucked up. We’re fucked up. The stakes are higher for you now, but even if it wasn’t, it just ruins everything in its wake. it's the biggest regret of my life," Wanda states firmly. Although she feels like a hypocrite as the words escape her lips, she feels compelled to express her feelings in the hope that it carries some weight.

“I know,” Pietro says, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been seeing a professional for two months now.”

“You are?”

Pietro smiles and takes Wanda’s hand, leading her back inside the reception. “Where do you think I got your therapist from?”

***

"You've really nailed it with this restaurant choice," Natasha exclaims at you, her fork stabbing into the juicy medium-rare steak. Her mouth waters as the meat releases its flavorful juices. She’s sitting to your left and Yelena’s right, and when you haven’t developed a psychic link with your partner yet, navigating a delicate situation feels like a sailor and a pilot has come together to figure out how a tractor works.

Natasha had phoned you earlier today, informing you that her flight from Washington D.C. was scheduled to depart in a mere two hours. This left you with approximately three hours to prepare for her arrival, as well as to have a conversation with Yelena on how you’re both going to break the news to her unsuspecting sister. However, due to Yelena's demanding work schedule, it was difficult to abruptly pull her away from her assignment and so you took it upon yourself to organize this impromptu dinner.

Your girlfriend, in a state of panic, had only just read your texts an hour ago and arrived late. Since then, there has been absolutely zero opportunity to discuss what your relationship entails for Natasha.

Delaying the inevitable, you focus on other topics.

“So, how was your flight?” you ask Natasha.

“Quick.”

“When did you find out you’re coming home?” you inquire, eyebrows wiggling at Yelena, attempting to seek her support in engaging in the conversation

“The other day.” Natasha says.

“How do you like your steak?”

Natasha gives you a funny look.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you try to think of more questions to ask, but Yelena beats you to it.

“We’ve been seeing each other.” she announces over her plate of untouched meatballs.

Your eyes widen in alarm as you look at Yelena, but she nonchalantly shrugs at you, then whispers, "I thought that's what you were trying to tell me with your eyes."

Natasha serenely savors her steak, taking a graceful sip of wine before responding, "Yes, I'm aware."

Surprised, you murmur, "How did you...?"

With a hint of amusement, Natasha replies, "If I were to reveal my skills, I would be violating at least ten pages of a non-disclosure agreement."

"Right," Yelena huffs, a feeling of ease finally settling over her. She indulges in her own plate, eagerly digging in and savoring each bite.

“You know,” You start, shoulders dropping and feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I thought I’m used to what you do, but it’s still weird that you disappear for several weeks and then you come back like,” you snap your fingers. “And we can’t ask you questions.”

“It’s why I love my job so much. People are literally not allowed to ask questions,” Natasha says with a satisfied smirk, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “But I can. So, how did this happen?” she says, motioning between you and Yelena with her finger.

“Didn’t you already know?” you say with a teasing smile.

Natasha fixes you with a piercing gaze, the kind she typically reserves for her job, making you retreat but not before a nervous gulp catches in your throat.

"Yelena?" she prompts, noticing the uncharacteristic silence.

“I, uh–”

"Hotdog sandwich," you blurt out abruptly, interrupting Yelena's non-existent train of thought, while your mind drifts back to the night when you and Yelena officially started dating. Two pairs of eyes fixate on you, their faces a mix of surprise and bewilderment, as if questioning your sanity. Realizing the awkwardness of your outburst, you quickly clear your throat and gather yourself to continue, "I asked her out one night, shortly after I started my new job, and we kind of just decided to give it a shot while eating a hotdog."

When you look up, Yelena’s eyes carry a fondness, effectively deepening the blush on your cheeks.

“That’s a nice story, Y/N, but I didn’t mean literally. More like… how did you arrive at the decision to be together?” Natasha says, her gaze on you unwavering. You avoid her eyes, suddenly determined to finish the remaining vegetables in your dish.

“It came to us organically, Nat. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding a bit cheesy.” Yelena says.

“I don’t mind cheesy. Cheesy is good. Love is often cheesy, right?” Natasha says, her gaze directed at you. The mention of the word 'love' catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your peas. Although you feel it deep in your heart that you love Yelena, neither of you have actually said those words to each other.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "Okay, then. It happened because we still have deep feelings for each other, and we felt it was necessary to give it a chance."

You smile, fully understanding and appreciating Yelena's sentiment. "I agree."

“Can I speak to Y/N in private?” She tells Yelena, who just shrugs, and then turning to you, Natasha says, “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” you reply, rising from your seat.

You and Natasha emerge from the cozy Italian restaurant, deciding to take a leisurely walk through the neighborhood. The rain has just subsided, leaving behind glistening streets and puddles that dot the pavement, making each step a bit precarious. The dampness in the air seems to mirror the tension in your chest, and you can't shake off the feeling that this walk holds more weight than just enjoying the post-rain atmosphere. The droplets on the ground reflect the streetlights, creating a mesmerizing shimmer that momentarily distracts you from your unease.

Yet, as you walk alongside Natasha, the silence between you only heightens your anticipation for the impending "sister talk."

You value your friendship with Natasha deeply, and the prospect of jeopardizing that bond fills you with uncertainty.

Just as your pulse falls into a steadier rhythm, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice filled with a sense of pride. "I'm proud of you," she declares. "Honestly, I half-expected to return and find you still unemployed, living in my apartment. But look at you now: a new job, a new place... and a new girlfriend," she adds, without a trace of animosity in her words.

“I was the crutch you had to get rid of after all.” Natasha says.

You laugh nervously at the ‘girlfriend’ remark, appreciating the genuine support from your best friend. "I suppose I relied on you heavily after my divorce," you admit. "It was easy to succumb to self-pity and a meaningless routine because you were there to take care of me. Eventually, I knew I was rotting away no matter how indulgent these Netflix shows are,” you laugh a little. “And well, things simply worked out, you know?”

“Yeah, I can see that it worked out pretty well with my sister.” Natasha quips.

"I care about her, Nat. I always have." you say, coming to a stop to face Natasha and properly look her in the eye.

Natasha nods and takes hold of your elbow, urging you to continue walking. "I know," she acknowledges, a knowing smile touching the corners of her lips. "She may not have shown it earlier, but she’s giddy as fuck. Kind of grosses me out seeing her eyeing you like a piece of candy.”

“But kidding aside, you have my blessing.” Natasha says, and you give her a soft smile in return.

A slight pang of guilt tugs at your heart as you decide not to mention your encounters with Wanda. You understand why Natasha requested this private conversation, and you don't wish to complicate matters by bringing up the brief rupture caused by your connection with Wanda. You and Yelena had reached a mutual understanding regarding Wanda, recognizing that your current relationship should not be overshadowed by your past with your ex-wife.

Besides, you haven’t talked to Wanda since you and Yelena entered into a relationship. Things have been going well; consequently, you see no justifiable reason to stir up any unnecessary complications or rock the boat.

But nobody reads you the way Natasha does, as she brings up the person you’ve been trying to forget all this time.

“And Wanda? Is that over?”

Lying to Natasha is akin to attempting to deceive a lie detector machine; there’s just no way out of it but the truth–or at least some of it.

“We were briefly in touch,” you admit, carefully filtering the story in your mind as you speak. "Coincidentally, she happened to be at the same club where Clint organized your going-away party."

Natasha raises an eyebrow; you read her well enough too, and it tells you that she hadn’t had an inkling that Wanda had reentered your life at one point.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asks, the level of her tone masking how she feels about that new information.

“Because you hate her?” You say, daring her to deny it but Natasha only rolls her eyes. “And, uh, I don’t know… Maybe because I knew you’d be disappointed?”

Natasha takes a deep breath, the crisp evening air filling her lungs as she gathers her thoughts. "Did I," she begins, "did I push you into making choices in the past that you weren't entirely comfortable with?"

"Why would you say that?" you inquire, puzzled by Natasha's question.

Natasha's gaze softens, and she replies with earnest sincerity, "Because I never wanted you to feel like you couldn't be completely open with me about anything. I never wanted you to fear my judgment regarding your decisions."

You wonder if Natasha would say the same thing if she knew you had fallen into Wanda’s bed post-divorce. You think about how Natasha urged you to file for it in the first place, how she helped in preparing everything from finding a suitable lawyer to ironing out the details of the agreement. Despite your emotional state during that period, you acknowledge that you made those decisions and chose to take responsibility for them.

“You’re like family to me, Nat. Of course your opinion of me will always matter.” you say.

“I’m happy you stood by your decision without me,” Natasha says. “I was worried you’d go back to her as soon as I was gone.”

A nervous smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flit to anywhere but your best friend; the weight of deliberately concealing a significant portion of the story makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Now more than ever, you regret being with Wanda that way. It had every potential to jeopardize your friendship with Natasha.

“How about you and Bruce?” you say, taking the spotlight away from yourself.

Natasha’s smile is sad as she shakes her head. “That ship has sailed. For good.”

“I’m sorry.” you say.

“Don’t be. He can finally allow himself to be happy. He’s a good man. He deserves more than I can give him.”

“What about you?”

“I’d like to believe I deserve more than he’s willing to give,” Natasha says, her voice not harboring any resentment; but it’s clear that she has accepted the fact that their desires and needs diverged, leading them down separate paths.

“Are you happy?” you ask suddenly, widely curious.

Natasha takes a moment to reflect, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "As happy as I can be," she contemplates. "I've learned that life shouldn't solely revolve around falling in love, you know? I have my work, my sister, my friends, and well, you're not that bad either," she adds with a light-hearted chuckle.

Turning the last corner back to the restaurant, you both bump into Yelena who’s wearing a frown after being left for so long.

“You were both gone for a while already so I thought I’d settle the bill and join you guys for a walk.” Yelena says. “You guys are okay, right?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” you say, taking her hand and interlacing your fingers together.

Natasha ignores Yelena’s question and says, “How much do I owe you for the food?”

Yelena pushes the receipt in her sister’s hand and says, “Everything.”

Settling beside Yelena on the bed, you reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch it off. The room is cast in a soft, bluish glow, as the moon's radiance filters through the blinds. It hasn’t been too long since you and Yelena started sharing this room, and despite initially intending to take things slow, the pace of your relationship accelerated naturally. With busy careers, it felt right to embrace the opportunity to spend more time together without the added complexities of planning and scheduling dates.

“It was weird introducing you to Nat as my girlfriend,” Yelena says, turning on her side to face you as soon as your head hits the pillow.

"I think you handled that quite smoothly," you say with a quiet chortle, the sarcasm failing to come across as strongly as intended.

"You were absolutely perfect though," Yelena whispers, her hand gently cupping your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss. It begins with a slow, tentative pace, reminiscent of the other kisses you have shared since becoming a couple.

Tonight, however, there's an undeniable intensity in Yelena's kisses that sends a fiery sensation rippling through your body. Her touch, tracing the skin below your belly button, ignites a rush of heat that intertwines with the passion of the moment. With your hands threaded in her hair, you boldly deepen the kiss, your tongue exploring the depths of her mouth, eliciting a surprised moan that you eagerly swallow.

As Yelena's fingers venture past the waistband of your underwear, a sudden jolt of surprise shoots through your body, causing you to abruptly sit upright. In the process, Yelena loses her balance and falls back onto the bed.

“Y/N?”

"Sorry," you stammer, attempting to calm your nerves and the racing of your heart. "I just remembered I have an important work email I haven't sent yet and..."

Yelena nods understandingly. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I've got some editing to do anyway."

You offer a grateful smile and lean in to press a tender kiss on her forehead. Then, you trail another moist kiss just below her ear, eliciting a soft sigh from Yelena's lips.

“I’ll wait up, okay? Hurry,” Yelena purrs against your neck.

“I’ll be back.” you say.

At half past midnight, you return to a snoring Yelena, her arm sprawled over the empty spot where you’re supposed to be. It was one email and you got carried away. And even if Yelena’s awake, you’re too exhausted to continue earlier’s steamy exchange.

Carefully, you remove her arm from your side of the bed and mold yourself to Yelena’s sleeping form.

You haven’t had sex with her yet. The desire is there–a hot burning coal of it–and you have entertained the thought numerous times, but each time the moment draws near, you find yourself hesitant and not quite ready to take that step. It's a decision you have consciously made, respecting your own boundaries and wanting to ensure that the timing feels right for both of you.

Kissing the back of Yelena's head, you savor the softness of her hair against your lips. With a contented sigh, you nuzzle your nose into her locks, finding comfort in her presence as sleep gradually envelops you.

***

“Ms. Maximoff? Over here.”

Wanda looks up to find Sparky’s doctor motioning for her to come inside the check-up room. She gets up and hurries to where Sparky has disappeared into for almost twenty minutes now, and sees him hooked up to an IV, dozing off on his side.

“Is he going to be okay?” Wanda asks immediately.

“The results of Sparky’s blood test don't look good. His liver is significantly higher than the normal range, and that could be the cause of his recent vomiting. For now, we’ll keep him confined here for one or two more days, depending on his condition, and if he’s responding to medication, you can continue giving them at home.”

“And what if he doesn’t respond to his medication?”

“We will conduct further tests to see what’s going on there. Surgery could be an option, depending on the outcome. While liver diseases in dogs can be treated and managed, there is always the possibility of expiration, I’m afraid.”

Expiration. Dogs have significantly shorter lives; Wanda knows this. But hearing it spoken so soon directly shatters Wanda’s heart. “W-What could have caused this?” she asks.

This is her fault, Wanda makes the conclusion, even before the doctor is done explaining the common causes in detail. She successfully fucked up another important thing in her life.

In the absence of a little furry baby wagging its tail to greet her, Wanda returns home to a dark and empty apartment. Seeking solace, Wanda clings to the hopeful possibility that Sparky may return home in the next few days.

Without bothering to turn on the lights, she kicks off her shoes and curls up into a ball on the couch. Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, eventually focusing on the small desk where the potted chrysanthemums you gifted her rest. The faint light casts a peculiar shadow on the wall, capturing her attention. Yet, it is the piece of napkin discreetly slipped beneath the pot that her mind is apprehensively fixated to; a thin, fragile thing that would ultimately lead her to you.

It has remained tucked away in Wanda's study, for a month now, as she couldn't bear to disrupt your life once again. She imagines that you are likely doing well, leading a quieter and less tumultuous existence without her. As for Wanda, she has been diligently working on herself, taking each day as it comes. However, the passage of time hasn't diminished her feelings for you, not even in the slightest. The void in her heart, shaped by your absence, remains steadfast, but she has learned to adapt and coexist with it, allowing herself to grow while carrying its weight.

And she wouldn't—not even for a moment—consider disturbing your peace if it weren't for the dog. If your roles were reversed, and you were the one keeping him, Wanda would undoubtedly want to be informed if his brief existence was endangered by an illness.

But then again, you've made your choice. You didn’t want anything to do with her. It was evident in your absence, when you stopped your visits to her apartment, her café; when Wanda's phone could no longer detect any recent online activity from you. You had simply vanished without a trace.

It would be unjust to intrude on your decision when you clearly didn't want to be found.

…And she’s still, quite literally, debating it when she finds herself at your doorstep an hour later.

Your new building looks lavish, Wanda can only imagine how much you’ve spent on the deposit alone. It was a little intimidating when she was asked to leave an ID and the receptionist had to ring your unit to inform you that you had a visitor–dropping her name to you in the process. More interesting than that, however, is that she gave Wanda the go signal to proceed to the elevators, meaning that you gave your consent for her to see you.

There's a sense of relief in realizing that you wouldn't go to the extent of turning her away just to avoid her altogether. She sets aside the questions that her heart desperately wants to ask, knowing they would only thwart the initial intention she has of seeing you.

She is fully aware of how guarded and cautious you were the last time; memories of her well-crafted plans to lure you and get close to you for the obvious reason of winning you back are still fresh in her mind. Wanda understands that she needs to approach this meeting with sensitivity and genuine concern, keeping her intentions clear and focused on Sparky's well-being.

But as she’s about to knock, the door swings open.

“Hi, I–” Wanda’s words die on her tongue and the nervous smile on her face fades into uncertainty.

Standing there, clad in nothing but a t-shirt (which she recognizes having bought it for you) that goes past her thighs, is the woman from the club. The woman who drew the curtains for you in your living room. Her blonde hair cascades in messy beach waves, framing her face and reaching her shoulders.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

But what strikes Wanda the most is how effortlessly the woman seems to blend into the space, appearing more like a tenant than a mere guest who just happened to visit you at this particular time.

Does she live with you?

“Is Y/N home? I’m Wan–”

"Wanda. I know. I’m Yelena," Yelena interrupts, her tone firm yet not unkind, like she’s struggling as much as the brunette. "She's still at work. Is there something you need from her?"

“You’re Yelena? Natasha’s sister?” Wanda asks.

Yelena nods tentatively, her eyes studying Wanda's reaction; she was surprised to get a call from the reception that a certain Wanda Maximoff wanted to come up to her unit. Despite the nagging question of whether you've been seeing Wanda all this time behind her back, she makes a conscious effort to maintain her composure in front of your ex-wife.

Meanwhile, something in Wanda's mind clicks. It's Yelena, not you, who allowed herself to go up to your floor. It's her, not you, who wanted to meet her. Wanda's mind races with questions. Does Yelena know about her? Did Yelena feel the need to introduce herself to your ex-wife?

"Uh..." Wanda's voice trembles with the onset of a panic attack. It turns out, coming here was a mistake, and she’s just grateful you’re not around to witness it. "I'm sorry. Please forget that I came here. Don't let her know I was here, please? I'm really sorry. I'll just go."

Yelena sucks in her cheeks as she reads into Wanda’s sudden panic. "Sure," she replies before softly closing the door on Wanda.

The nights are longer at Stark Industries. You knew what you signed up for when you accepted the job, but now you're starting to feel the repercussions. The stress is taking its toll not only on your work-life balance but also on your relationship with Yelena. You haven’t had dinner together recently, much less a conversation that lasted longer than a few exchanges of “how are you” and “I’m fine”. There’s a lot to make up for, but no date in sight to actually start doing so.

The office is empty except for you and the maintenance worker assigned to the night shift, so when your ringtone cuts through the stillness, the sound of it reverberates off the walls of the empty room, making it too loud for you to ignore.

With your eyes concentrated on a formula on your spreadsheet, you answer your phone without looking at the caller.

“Hey, I’ll be home soon.” you say, assuming it’s Yelena on the line.

“Y/N.” A vaguely familiar voice that’s definitely not Yelena greets you. That’s when you remove your phone from your ear and notice the unknown number on the screen.

“Who’s this?”

The caller doesn’t answer right away. Instead, you can hear rain pouring heavily in the background, something you haven’t been aware of due to the thick windows of the office blocking out outside noises.

“It’s Vision,” The voice cracks over the speaker before you can decide to drop the call. “Wanda needs your help.”

The rain had been relentless throughout the day according to the weather app on your phone. You’ve just been too busy to notice, and so you find yourself without an umbrella. Thankfully, by the time you arrive at the location Vision instructed, the downpour has subsided into a gentle drizzle.

“Jesus, it’s freezing.” you mumble to yourself, wrapping your jacket tighter around your body.

You recognize this part of the city, having gone here numerous times in the past to visit your favorite dive bar where you, Natasha, Clint, and Wanda would hang out for hours just talking and having a good time. Although Natasha and Wanda don’t really talk, they engage in group shots, and Wanda would always challenge you to a game of pool, and you would win one or two matches in a best of seven, because your wife–ex-wife–is just so gifted in just about all kinds of sports.

However, it's not the same bar where you find Wanda. Instead, it’s near a dead-end street and you stumble upon her slumped against a light post in a sorry state. It's obvious that she has consumed a significant amount of alcohol, leaving her almost blacked out. It makes you suspicious if this happens often–Wanda getting shitfaced in random places with Vision in tow.

The sight of Vision doesn’t bother you as much as before, but it still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth to see them together in the same place. Vision, to his credit, keeps a respectful distance, yet the yearning in his face is unmistakable. It's a familiar look, one you've witnessed on Wanda's previous boyfriends when they believed you weren't paying attention.

As you draw closer, Wanda's head tilts back, and her intoxicated eyes, heavy-lidded and unfocused, widen ever so slightly in recognition as they lock with yours.

“Y/N? Is that really you?” Wanda drunkenly slurs, her struggling eyes attempting to focus on your face. “If you’re not, please tell Y/N that I’m not with him,” Wanda says, pointing her thumb in his direction, refusing to even look at Vision. “He just showed up out of nowhere and I told him to stay away. I swear, I’m telling the truth. Vision, tell her, please. Tell her to tell Y/N.”

The street lights become too much for Wanda to bear, and she buries her head into her arms, her knees drawn to her chest. She looks so small and insignificant against the backdrop of a vibrant metropolis.

Steeling yourself against her sorrowful pleas, you turn to Vision instead. “How did you find her?” you demand.

“I was out with my friends, and happened to pass by this area on our way back,” Vision recounts. “I saw two men trying to take her home, and we intervened. I tried asking Wanda where she lives so I can take her home myself, but she refuses to tell me. I tried calling you using her phone, but I think you blocked her number, so I tried calling you myself.”

You’re inclined to believe him, but there will always be bouts of suspicion lingering on the surface when it concerns Wanda. Though as your eyes return to Wanda’s shivering form, you can’t help but wonder if she would truly rather die in the ditches than accept help from him. For the first time, you find yourself contemplating the possibility of believing her, although a part of you wonders if it's simply your enduring soft spot for her attempting to sway your judgment.

“Thank you,” you say to Vision, surprised to find a little sincerity in your voice.

“If I find out you’re the reason why she’s this miserable, I’m putting everything on the line to make sure you stay away from her.” he declares, igniting a cigarette as you support Wanda, draping one of her arms over your shoulder and lifting her up. In that moment, she feels noticeably lighter than before, and your hand can discern the protrusion of her ribs as you secure her against your side.

“Is that a threat?” you say, clenching your jaw, your own clothes getting soaked fast, not realizing early on just how drenched Wanda is from the rain.

“It’s a warning,” Vision answers coolly. “As far as I know, you haven’t atoned for anything. And it’s not because you don’t deserve it. It’s because of her.”

He’s right–you walked out of that bloodied room unscathed from the law. All along you thought the consequences of what you’ve done to Vision just miraculously resolved on its own with the help of Natasha, but if Wanda had anything to do with how you’re not being served with at least damages for physical assault, what price did she have to pay in return?

It’s a conversation for later–you don’t need Wanda to protect you, especially if it means being coerced into complying with Vision's demands.

“I’m ready for anything,” you tell him, goading him with a smirk as you feel Wanda nestle closer to you, seeking your warmth. “Now, get your jacket off her and I’ll take it from here.”

As Vision gently takes off the garment from Wanda's shoulders, your eyes catch sight of a distinct mark on her finger, a faded indentation left by a ring that she no longer adorns.

Upon arriving at Wanda's place, there is no sign of Sparky. You feel a twinge of disappointment, as you had been somewhat anticipating him despite the circumstances. However, your attention swiftly turns to Wanda, who appears even worse now that you have brought her home: her lips are dry and pale, the flush all over her face down to her neck is still there, and she feels excessively warm to touch, almost as if she is–

“Shit, you’re burning up,” you mutter as you place your hand on her damp forehead.

Then all of a sudden, Wanda forcefully pushes you away, her hand covering her mouth, as she rushes towards the bathroom. In her haste, the straps of her sandals snap, breaking under the pressure. Swiftly, you trail behind her, conscientiously removing your shoes along the way to prevent leaving any dirt tracks on her pristine floor.

When you enter the bathroom, you find Wanda hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach. Grimacing at the sight, you kneel beside her and carefully gather her dark hair, holding it up while you wait for her to finish. Once she's done, you flush it down for her. Wanda, seemingly drained, rolls away from the toilet and crawls towards the shower where she simply sits in one corner, closing her eyes with the clear intention of settling down for the night right there.

Faced with a decision, you find yourself contemplating your next course of action. You weigh the responsibilities you had undertaken which was to get Wanda to her apartment safely. What happens to her thereafter should no longer be your concern. After all, Yelena is most likely still waiting for you back at home.

Home. A year ago, the extent to which your definition of it has changed would have been unimaginable.

“Y/N,” Wanda’s weak voice draws your attention away from your thoughts. “You should g-go.” she says hoarsely.

Your fingers close around the doorknob, silent and unmoving, as anger wells up within you; Anger at Wanda for getting herself into this mess. Anger towards Vision for asking you to come to her rescue. Anger at yourself for feeling unable to leave Wanda behind, despite everything.

"Did she tell you about me? I told her not to, Y/N. I'm so sorry..." Wanda's whisper reaches your ears, her eyes remaining shut and her head tilted back, revealing the graceful column of her neck. You instinctively avert your gaze.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“I-I went to see you. But she said you were still working. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted you to know about Sparky…”

She? Yelena? You didn’t think Yelena would allow Wanda to go up to your apartment just like that.

"He's not well," Wanda continues, her gaze focused on your face as she takes in every detail of it, as if trying to capture the memory of you in case this is the only opportunity she gets.

Your grip on the doorknob tightens. So that explains why Sparky is nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened? Is he okay?”

Wanda hiccups, thoughts too jumbled to put together anything coherent. "Liver–not normal," she manages to say, her voice trailing off. She had convinced herself that she wanted to see you for a legitimate reason, but as she gazes at you now, it becomes painfully clear that it was her deep longing for you that has ultimately prevailed.

"Is there anything I could-" you start to offer your help, your concern for Sparky overriding whatever tension lingers between you and Wanda.

"You should leave, Y/N," Wanda interrupts, mustering the strength to open her eyes and meet yours. The shame and despair swirling in those green orbs are hard to ignore, but you try to remain steadfast. "She's probably worried about you."

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, and then, instead of doing as she says, you close the door behind you. Silently, you begin removing your own clothes, stripping down to your underwear.

"I have to dry them anyway," you mumble after feeling the weight of Wanda's stare. "Come on, let's fix you up and get you ready for bed."

Wanda reaches for the hem of her shirt, her hesitation evident as she refrains from removing it. Sensing her struggle, you take the initiative, hoping to expedite the process so you can attend to her needs and leave soon. With gentle care, you lift her shirt up and over her head, exposing her trembling form.

That's when you notice it–her wedding ring that Wanda used to wear on her finger, even after your divorce. But now it has taken on a new form, transformed into a pendant hanging delicately from a chain around her neck. It rests there, nestled between her breasts, a symbol of a past chapter in her life–and yours–that she carries with her, in a different way.

Wanda notices where your eyes are lingering and removes the necklace herself when you remain passive and unmoving.

The next task is unclipping her bra, and as your fingers reach for the hooks, Wanda's hand covers yours, halting your actions.

“Is this–I mean, do you think should…?” she stammers out, and you’re unsure if the blush on her face is still from the alcohol.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," you say, feeling your own face heat up. "I think you have a fever. I need to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?"

Wanda nods meekly, giving her consent.

A few seconds later, Wanda is naked except for the pink she wears on her cheeks. You help her get up and move under the shower. You twist and turn the knob of the shower until you find the desirable temperature, and then start shampooing Wanda’s hair.

As the water cascades over her and rinses away her self-loathing, Wanda finds herself surrendering to your care, allowing her to cherish this rare, tender moment she never knew she’d get to experience again. She is grateful for the water, realizing how weary you must be of seeing her cry; it’s just not possible to restrain herself from it when you’re this gentle with her.

“Can you handle the rest?” you ask Wanda, putting your hands under the shower to get rid of the soap.

“Yes,” she answers.

“Okay. I’ll go get some towels.”

Collecting both yours and Wanda's clothes from the floor, you quickly step out of the bathroom before you can start processing what you’ve just done.

Don’t think, just do, you say to yourself as you put the clothes in the dryer.

Don’t think, just do, you repeat as you get fresh towels from the cabinet.

Don’t think.

When you’re both dry and you’re back in your work clothes and Wanda in her pajamas, you accompany her to her bedroom. You tuck her in and touch her forehead once again to check her temperature. The heat still radiates from her body, and it becomes clear that her fever isn't letting up soon. It won’t go down unless she takes something, but with alcohol still in her system, you don’t think that’s a good idea.

Here, drink this," you offer, extending a sports drink to Wanda.

"Thank you," Wanda murmurs, taking a generous sip before returning the bottle to you.

"Try to finish it. You're likely dehydrated," you suggest. Wanda, acknowledging your advice, obediently continues to drink.

“Better?”

Wanda nods with a small smile. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry you had to go through all that trouble. I didn’t think Vision would–”

“You’re welcome,” you interject as soon as she mentions his name. “We’ll talk soon.”

Wanda's gaze remains fixed on her folded hands in her lap. "You don't have to," she whispers. "You don't have to talk to me or see me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. This doesn't happen a lot anymore—not as often as you might think. Just something happened, and... I didn't mean to involve you, Y/N. I'm really sorry."

Something? What exactly happened? Regardless, you don't think it's healthy for Wanda to subject herself to such a high level of intoxication, no matter what the circumstances may be.

"We'll talk soon," you repeat, keeping your tone firm but gentle. "Take care, Wanda. Good night."

Yelena is wide awake in the living room, her attention focused on a book resting on her lap as you arrive home. The soft glow of a lamp illuminates her features, casting a gentle light on her face. There's a stillness in the room, interrupted only by the turning of pages and the sound of your footsteps.

You hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of her.

"Hey," you greet her wearily. "You're still awake?"

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” she says, somewhat bashfully. "There's salad in the fridge if you haven't eaten." she offers.

You pause for a moment, and then meeting her gaze, you ask, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Yelena levels you with a look, putting her book down, she says, “No. Do you?”

Taking a deep breath, you tell her you do. “I took Wanda home,” you declare, bracing yourself for Yelena’s reaction but her face remains stoic. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, almost as if she had been anticipating your words.

“Can you clarify?” Yelena finally speaks up when you make no further effort to elaborate.

"In the office, I received a call from Vision," you explain. “He said Wanda needed my help. She was in no condition to go home on her own so I took her.”

“Why didn’t he take her home himself?”

You shrug slightly. "Wanda refused to go with him.”

There's a quiet intensity in her eyes, a depth of emotions that she holds back, yet you can sense them lingering beneath the surface. And then, she asks, “And nothing happened?”

“I helped her get change and manage her fever,” you say. “Nothing else happened.”

Yelena's gaze softens, and any trace of her being bothered by your confession finally reveals itself in the form of a soft sigh that escapes her lips.

"Thank you for telling me," Yelena says, wrapping her arms around your neck. "In that case, I should have mentioned that Wanda came by, and I let her come up here."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask curiously.

"She told me not to let you know," Yelena reveals quite casually. "And I didn't think it was important anyway."

You hum in response, grateful for her honesty and openness at least. Although, you sense that there might be more to the story than meets the eye.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I've been in touch with her?" you inquire, unable to ignore the nagging curiosity in your mind. Yelena's seemingly mild reactions in response to her encounter with Wanda is slightly unsettling.

“I wasn’t going to,” Yelena confesses, lowering her gaze before they come back up with a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. “But have you?”

You shake your head in response, indicating the truth. Yelena’s shoulder slackens and she steps closer to you. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I missed you,” Yelena mumbles the words like a secret, before capturing your lips in a short, sweet kiss, effectively stealing you away from your thoughts.

"Me too," you whisper back, feeling the day's events weighing on you, you take her hand and guide her towards the bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

#can this get any better???#crying throwing up #my heart is broken #no one talk to me #wanda x reader stan4ever

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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Ran Right Into You pt.1

Wanda maximoff x fem! reader

Wanda Masterlist Series Masterlist

Warnings: legal age gap,

Words:2.5k

Summary: Wanda’s a newly divorced mother. You’re a big sister fresh home from college and you’ve started taking your little brother to soccer practice. -you two meet on the bleachers<3

Both of your parents were pretty busy, that’s not to say they didn’t have enough time to take care of you- because they did, in fact, they often took you and your little brother out for sweets or to amusement parks on their days off, but their jobs keep them busy 6 out of 7 days a week from 7 am to 7 pm.

Having pretty recently graduated college, you spend a lot of time sitting at home doing nothing and occasionally meeting up with friends not already busy with work, You liked to take advantage of your newfound freedom, and apparently, so did your parents, so now you have to wake up way-too-early every morning to take your brother to school.

You groaned as your alarm went off, your brother’s spring break had just ended and it was your first time doing the morning commute.

You got ready to go and tiredly waited by the door, dinosaur lunch box in hand, for your brother to come downstairs.

Not even two seconds later does he come stumbling down the stairs, nearly tripping on his own feet, your brother had always been more on the clumsy side, not that you were much different, always tripping on nothing or bumping into people.

“C’mon kiddo we’re going to be late!” You pointed out, he just nodded and tried to put on his shoes faster- it was velcro, how can someone be slow putting on velcro!? Your brother looked a lot like you in some ways, you shared the same hair color and many of the same facial features, but if anyone asked, you were the cuter baby.

When you’d finally managed to get yourselves out the door and get on the road your brother decided he was finally awake enough to converse with you

“What did you pack me for lunch today?”

You grinned mischievously, “A broccoli salad with lots of walnuts and snap peas”

You glanced in the rearview mirror to see your brother scrunch up his face in disgust

“Ewww! Those are the grossest”

You knew those were your brother’s least favorite foods, you just wanted to mess with him

“I know bud, Mom actually made you a sandwich last night that I packed for you, and I grabbed you lots of snacks”

You kept your eyes on the road but you could hear his little ‘yes!’ from behind you and it made you smile. You and your brother were best friends and his excitement was contagious.

You pulled up to the school and watched as your brother got out, saying goodbye quickly as he shut the door.

You were about to pull away when you remembered the weather forecast from this morning saying it was supposed to get pretty windy, you glanced to the backseat where your brother’s coat sat comfortably on the seat, you immediately grabbed it and got out of the car, calling his name, luckily he hadn’t gotten very far yet, small feet equal small steps.

He turned around and you approached him, putting the coat into his backpack for later

“Don’t ever say I never did anything for you” You joked to him and he nodded half-heartedly before running off to play with a pair of twins that had just arrived, at least now you could relax for the rest of the day.

You, in fact, could not relax the rest of the day. It turns out the woman who usually takes your brother to soccer practice with her son had gotten sick and now it was up to you to pick up your brother and take him. You paused the show that you were watching and glanced at the clock, there were about 30 minutes until his school got out.

That left enough time for you to eat lunch and then leave, perfect.

Picking up your brother from school was the easy part, it was listening to him talk nonstop the entire way to the soccer field that was the hard part, normally he was tuckered out by the time he got home- now you had to experience the after-school energy rush.

As much as you loved the little bugger he had a tendency to ramble on about things.

“And then the teacher said that my art project was super cool and It was a drawing of a superhero so obviously it was cool and then during snack time Jonah had a pudding cup and I had goldfish and so we traded snacks and I got a pudding cup!” You could hear the soft excited kicking of his feet against the seat as he told you about his day

“That’s pretty cool” you hummed, glancing again at the GPS on your phone

“Yeah! then during recess, it was my turn to get to pick the game to play, I wanted to play bikes but we didn’t have enough bikes for everyone so we just played tag” He didn’t sound the least bit upset about it, it’s funny how kids can either be entirely fine or go completely nuts when things don’t go their way.

“Did you have fun?” you watched him in the rearview mirror, his feet swung back and forth and he was distracted by watching something outside the window.

Maybe he was watching the Shadowman do parkour to race the car-

“Mhmm, I was winning actually but-”

“Oop, we’re here” You interrupted, not that your brother cared, he was already bursting out of the car and onto the field. Soccer was his favorite thing next to his favorite tv show and you obviously.

“Wait you forgot your- oh never mind” You grabbed his coat that he forgot again and rubbed your shoulders as a breeze hit you, it was getting chilly already. You’d thrown on a light long sleeve shirt but it didn’t seem like it would be enough. You glanced up at the light grey clouds above you, it didn’t seem like it would rain but the weather was still cold.

Why did they have to have soccer practice outside? There were plenty of indoor soccer fields…

You walked up to the little bleachers they had set up for parents and took a seat, you could leave but that would be a waste of gas so you opted to stay and watch instead.

There weren’t a lot of parents here, a few of them were scattered on the bleachers, one or two standing up, and you were sure you could see a few parents still sitting in their cars with the heaters on, too afraid to go out and sit in the cold. You’d have to congratulate them on their genius, maybe being that smart comes with age. You were pretty much zoning out watching the kids when a figure sat down next to you.

“Oh sorry!” you scooted over a bit to make more room for her. Despite there being plenty of room still left on the bleachers anywhere else she decided to come over and sit right next to you.

“Don’t worry about it darling” Replied her accented voice, accompanied by a gentle smile. You found yourself smiling back at her. It was hard not to, with her beautiful brown hair that looked like it would shine red in the sunlight, and her bright curious eyes that looked at you with such sincerity. She was by far one of the prettiest women you’d ever met.

You both sat and watched the boys for a while, you tried your best not to glance at her too many times, resisting the urge to full-on stare- you didn’t know if you’d get the chance to be this close to a literal Goddess again. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself-

Eventually, she turned to you, effectively spooking you into thinking you’d been caught, you knew you should’ve put a little more time in between those last two glances.

“Are you a nanny?” She inquired, tilting her head a little, it was a simple gesture that made your stomach twist.

“I’m sorry?” you responded when you finally snapped back to reality

“Oh I didn’t mean to offend you, I’ve just not seen you around here before and I was wondering if you were a nanny” she quickly explained, and you shook your head at her question

“I mean I can definitely babysit but I’m here with my brother” You pointed at the kid right as he tripped over a soccer ball, and you grimaced

“You ok?” you shouted out to him, he picked himself up and dusted the grass off of his outfit before grinning at you with a thumbs up, you grinned back at him

“Oh! So was that you that I saw this morning then?” Your attention turned back to the woman next to you and you shivered. Whether it was because of the wind or her unwavering gaze you couldn’t tell

“I dropped him off at school this morning yeah”

“That’s sweet of you” You blushed at her words but shrugged it off, playing it cool

“ I’m Wanda” She held her hand out for you to shake and you took it, her hand was surprisingly warm for how cold the environment was, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish you could hold it for a little while longer. Even her rings were warm- maybe she was hiding heat packs in her coat pockets

“Y/n,” a small smile appeared on her face at the introduction. To Wanda, you were probably another random teen who takes care of their sibling but for some odd reason, she seemed entirely content to sit here and talk to you the entire time, occasionally glancing at the kids playing soccer every time some of the other parents cheered

“Are you around here often?” it felt like a stupid question to ask, she literally had kids on the team why wouldn’t she be here? God you were awful at small talk, to make matters worse the small smile that adorned her face fell a little at your words, you wanted to smack yourself for making her upset

“No actually, my husband used to be the one who would take the boys to practice while I was at work- well I guess Ex-Husband now”

“Oh! I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, it was for the best” The way she said it made you feel like it was something she was upset about but didn’t really regret.

An especially strong breeze blew by and you could hear the chorus of complaints from the little boys as you shivered, ironically enough, you forgot to grab your own jacket on your way out to pick up your brother.

“Are you cold дорогой?” You didn’t know what the word meant but it made you blush nonetheless, what was it about other languages that was just so…

“No, I’m fine I promise, thank you though” Wanda gave you a look that let you know she didn’t believe you and you quickly tried to think of a way to reassure her. You rubbed your arm a bit and it felt warm so you grabbed her hand and placed it on your forearm to show her you were fine.

“I’m warm, see?” As soon as her palm made contact with your arm she sharply inhaled, perhaps your freezing hands weren’t the best dictators of warmth

“Jesus” She exclaimed “You and I must have very different definitions of warm Y/n” She breathily laughed, meanwhile your stomach did a cartwheel at the way she said your name. Mentally you decided you would absolutely only marry someone from overseas, the way her accent pronounced your name was like liquid gold and warm honey gliding down your throat to produce a warm protective layer around your heart. You already felt warmer… or maybe you were experiencing signs of hypothermia.

You barely registered it when Wanda took off her coat, only noticing when the black cloth was draped around your shoulders, her smell immediately enveloped your whole body, she smelled amazing.

“Wanda no-” You saw her eyes sparkle at your protest “I can go sit in my car or something I-”

“And deprive me of my talking buddy? I don’t think so” she interrupted, humor lacing her voice as she playfully grinned at you. If she kept looking at you like that you’d have no other choice but to stay

“I don’t want you to be cold” You attempted to remove her coat, pushing it from your shoulder but her hand clasped over yours keeping it in place

“Please Y/n, I was born in Sokovia I can handle a little cold weather” Her thumb began rubbing lightly on your skin, effectively stopping you from being able to focus

“S-sokovia?” you managed to get out, you wondered for a brief second if she knew what she was doing to you, but you quickly shook the thought from your mind, she was obviously just being friendly.

“Yes I was born there”

The two of you continued talking for a while, you couldn’t remember the last time you had a long conversation with someone and it felt nice, it made you forget about the cold for a little bit, and before you knew it soccer practice was over.

You had just finished telling Wanda about your awkward high school experience when your brother bounded up to you.

“Y/n I’m cold” he complained, but then he noticed the other person sitting with you and shyly hid against your shoulder

Wanda’s boy ran up to her and you immediately recognized them as the twins your brother liked to play with before school started, he immediately lit up at the sight of them.

The three boys began talking animatedly about things you weren’t even going to try to understand as you and Wanda stood to leave.

“I think I’m gonna head home before either of us catch hypothermia” you joked, it really shouldn’t be this cold for April but the weather gets more and more unpredictable every year. That was New Jersey for you.

You handed Wanda her coat and she nodded and turned to leave before hesitating and turning back to you

“You said you would be available for babysitting right?”

You nodded your head and she quickly pulled out her phone, trying not to have to stay in the cold for longer than necessary.

“Do you think I could get your number?”

You blamed the cold for the flush on your cheeks, you knew it was out of context but hey it had been a while since a pretty girl asked you for your number

“Just- with my Husband out of the picture I need someone to look after the boys some of the time while I’m at work and I’d prefer it to be someone who I trust instead of someone off of the internet you know?”

You understood her reasoning and shyly grabbed the phone she was offering to you, you typed in your number and saved it to her contacts under “Y/n⚽” before handing it back to her.

She chuckled at the name you put before tucking her phone away and bidding you goodbye.

It was safe to say you were not going to be able to survive seeing her again.

Дорогой- Darling

Pt.2

I love writing relatable witty Y/n she’s my favorite. What do you guys think? ~Starry

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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it’s always ‘spencer reid’ this, ‘spencer reid’ that…what about emily prentiss? tara lewis? penelope garcia, jordan todd, elle greenaway, jennifer jareau? alex blake? kate callahan? hell, derek morgan?

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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Criminal Minds PRIDE Fic Challenge!

Here we go! First writing challenge ever and I'm even more excited about the theme. During June I ask fic writers to challenge themselves a little bit by writing a piece that is LGBTQ+ inclusive!!! Don't let the topic intimidate you; If you want to participate, but don't know where to start, there are prompts to help. All the fics will be collected in a Masterlist that will be avalible by July 1st.

Note: if you have accessibility issues with this post (or any of my posts!) let me know and I can send you the information in an accessible format.

Prompts and rules are under the cut!

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These prompts are only ideas to help get you started! You can write any LGBTQ+ centered fic you want! Feel free to modify any of the more specific prompts to your liking.

Prompts:

Character coming out to their friends/family/the team.

Character's found family is more supportive than biological family when they come out.

Characters go to a pride parade/festival/event!

Characters discuss queer coding in media.

Character(s) explains their new, queer relationship to a child.

Character 1's child comes out to them. They go to Character 2 to ask what they wish their parents would have done.

Character 1 is having an identity crisis (gender or sexuality). They go to Character 2 for help.

Character 1 is confident about their identity. Character 2 isn't, so they ask for some advice.

Character 1 takes Character 2 to a gay bar for the first time to act as their wingman/wingwoman/wingperson.

Character 1 is unsure if they're attracted to or envious of Character 2's confidence in their identity.

Character has been dating Morgan, but realizes they're not attracted to men. He isn't sure how he ended up in this situation twice, but it's the perfect opportunity for him to play matchmaker for his ex girlfriends.

Character comes out to the team (or it's just pride month) and Penelope goes a bit overboard with decorations.

For the writers who are intimidated by this topic or unsure if they can write it: write something with GN!reader. It's less intimidating than you think, and it can make someone's day to be able to read a fic they might otherwise not relate to!

Bi and Pan Prompts:

Character 1 has always thought they were straight, but they realize their feelings for their best friend, Character 2, are more than platonic.

Character 1 is in a straight passing relationship and worries about the visibility of their queer identity. Their partner is incredibly supportive in helping them express themselves.

(NSFW) What does Emily really do during a sin to win weekend?

Trans and Nonbinary Prompts:

Character 1 gives Character 2 a gender affirming haircut.

Hotch teaches Character how to shave.

JJ teaches Character how to do make up.

Character finds themselves needing gender affirming clothes. Rossi makes sure they have the best of the best.

(NSFW) Character 1 gifts Character 2 gender affirming lingerie and it gives them quite the confidence boost.

Aro and Ace Prompts:

Character 1 keeps trying to set up Character 2 with people/telling them to find someone to help ease their stress. Character 2 has had enough of it.

Character has a monthly spike in libido and it makes them question their identity. Spencer tries to help with a ramble about science (NSFW add on: and a few other ways).

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Rules:

The fic can reader insert, OC, character x character, general fic, etc. as long as the character(s) is from Criminal Minds (yes, even the ones I don't write for).

Fics can be any genre and can be platonic or romantic in nature... and yes, this includes smut (I know, I know my brand is ruined. Oh well). You must be 18+ if you are going to submit smut. You all know I love platonic fics very much if not more!

You can write something new or dig up something you've already written! I'm also happy to add on fics that are sent to me after the masterlist is posted.

Tag me in your fic or message me the link. Please list the ship, content warnings, and have a 1-2 sentence summary of your piece! If you have multiple pieces, you can submit a mini masterlist.

Be kind and respectful! Reach out to me if you have any concerns. This blog is a safe space!

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Thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins for the support and for sending some of the prompts from discord! (and telling me it's safe to tag @foxy-eva for this too)

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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are you planning on making a part 2 to stone cold? i love the fic!!

well I didn't plan on doing one, but if you have any suggestions I am open to writing a part 2!!

#ask me #answered #anon ask

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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AM I SUPPOSE TO BE OKAY AFTER THOSE???

I NEED MILF WANDA IDEAS SOMEONE SEND ME IDEAS PLEASEEE

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fleeingword · 2 years ago

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Stone Cold.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Summary: You and Emily have been dating for over 2 years but that all ends when out of nowhere she breaks up with you. This is your journey of trying to get over her and finding out the reason for the break up in the time of around 2 months.

Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing,

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, Emily Prentiss x JJ, platonic!Penelope Garcia x Gn!reader

Word count: around 3k words

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Stone cold, stone cold

You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor

After Emily broke up with you, you were a wreck for days. You asked Hotch for some time off and he, unhappily, gave you two weeks off without pay. You knew that he didn’t like being a member short especially if you had a case, but it was an emergency. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Everything was going fine until a month ago when she became distant, not answering your non-work calls and texts. It confused you to no end. Ever since you and Emily started dating she always made sure to text you back, to come check on you after work, and to go out for lunch with you.

All of that was gone, and at first you didn’t think much of it, or maybe you were too scared to ask in case your overthinking thoughts were right this time.

Then one day, one particularly hard day after a long and tiring case Emily Prentiss showed up at your door. You were confused, but relieved, maybe it was going to go back to normal? Maybe she came to explain her behavior and apologize? Boy were you wrong.

“We need to talk.” Her expression was stone cold, you couldn’t read her. Hell you hardly could on a normal day, but today it was extra hard.

“What-” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice crack. What is it?”

“Better for you if we sit down.” With that she walked into your small apartment, the memories of your happy relationship came flooding into her head.

As you sat down on the couch you noticed her linger next to the photos of the two of you on the beach, during your vacation. A soft smile gracing her lips made you less worried. All thoughts about her needing to break up with you left you, and you sat there waiting on her with ease.

“This is not something that is easy to do, and I hope you don’t hate me…” Emilys voice faltered at the end of the sentence. Picking up her gaze from the floor she eyed your face with guilt.

With a small smile you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure I won't, love.”

“And I’m sure you will.” Echoed in Emilys’ head as she let out a breath, sitting down next to you. “I… I don’t love you anymore.”

Your heart rate picked up as you stared at her with your eyes wide open, both in shock and hurt. You didn’t know what to do exactly, do you cry? Scream? Beg for her to stay? Get angry with her? No one prepared you for this moment, and without any pointers you weren’t sure how to act.

“Oh.”

“Oh? I thought- I thought you’d be mad!” She stood up quickly, her face changing from guilty to annoyed.

“Well what do you want me to do Emily? I can’t control you. You’re your own person.” Shrugging, you kept your eyes on the spot that she had just been occupying. You didn’t hear a reply from her, instead you heard a loud banging sound, notifying you that she had left.

When you couldn’t hear her angry footsteps anymore you broke down. The love of your life just left you after admitting that she didn’t feel anything for you anymore.

That day you cried the whole time, you don’t think there was a moment where tears weren’t streaming down your cheeks.

Stone cold, stone cold

Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore

When the second week of your temporary leaving started to come to an end you decided to stop. Stop crying. Stop obsessing over Emily. Stop caring.

You got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, wanting to make yourself a good and healthy breakfast.

After that you took a long and steamy shower, you loved the way it made your muscles relax and temporarily helped you forget about your ex. Your plan was to go out for a run, test your limits, test your drive, your power.

And that is exactly what you did. You ran 21 kilometers, a half marathon. Which took you around an hour and forty minutes, give or take. By no means were you shitty at sports, but you weren’t really keen on them. Yes, you did work out a lot, but that was only due to the fact that you were obsessed with being in a good shape.

Successfully you managed to not think about Emily Prentiss and her good looks for a whole day. And you started to think that maybe you can do this, maybe you can get over this obstacle in your life and be happy again.

Stone cold, baby

God knows I try to feel

Happy for you

Know that I am, even if I

Can't understand,

Finally you were able to go back to your job that you loved dearly, even if a certain person’s name left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were ready to move past that and continue saving lives and kicking ass.

Just as you stepped into the office you were attacked with a “Welcome Back!” banner and Garcia running towards you with a tray full of colorful cupcakes. You loved her baking, sometimes it could even match Rossi’s, which was a huge compliment.

“OH! EM! GEE! You’re back my lovely, little pumpkin!” With one hand around you and one hand still holding the pastries, she jumped up a little, not being able to hold in her excitement.

She has been calling you pumpkin since last Halloween when you decided that the best idea is dressing up as a pumpkin. “A hot pumpkin” as Emily said it. Speaking of Emily, your eyes searched the office area but you couldn’t find her. Weird.

“I heard about everything, and I wanted to apologize that I wasn’t there for you, but we had a big case and it took a toll on me and you said to leave you alone and I did but I wanted to –”

You cut her off by engulfing her into a deep hug, having to lean into her more since you were taller. She was truly one of your best friends, in work and out of work. You wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Clearing your throat you pull away, being back face to face with Penelope handing you the plate with the cupcakes. “I know that you don’t usually eat unhealthy food like this but I think moments like these call for stuff like this. Y’know?’

“Thank you babes, you’re an angel. Did y’know that?” Kissing her on the cheek you walked further in, setting all your belongings on the desk, Garcia following you.

“There is something you must know.”

“What is it?”

“Em –”

But she was cut off by Derek yelling out your name from the entrance, his sunglasses on top of his head and his arm around Spencer. The two men smiling widely at you, you guys were close but not as close as you and your little hacker girl.

“It’s been so long, why didn’t you come in sooner?” As per usual Reid looked at you with a very confused gaze, his eyes traveling towards the cupcakes. “Are these yours? You don’t usually eat stuff like this, is everything all right? Did someone die?”

The sweet concern in his voice made you chuckle lowly, standing up as you went to greet the both of them. “Dr. Reid! No one died. I’m just going through some things, nothing major though.”

He nodded and Garcia gave you a knowing look, one that informed you that Emily didn’t tell everyone about the two of you breaking up. Which was so not like her.

“Hey, have you seen Prentiss? She’s usually one of the first ones here.” Hotch asked while walking towards us from his office, Rossi close behind. The latter gives you a sorrowful look.

“Mmm nope, haven't seen her.” Derek was the first one to speak up, quickly followed by the rest that denied seeing her.

“Okay well we can’t wait for long, we have a case.”

Nodding we all walked into the briefing office, sitting down in our seats we waited for JJ to walk in with the remote to the TV while giving us the run down of the case. Seeing as she didn’t appear, Hotch told Pen to present for us.

After we were done he was basically fuming, with the two girls gone we were down two agents on field and that was a dangerous situation for us to be in.

“Does anyone know where the hell –”

Loud and happy laughter from the entrance drowned his words out, all of us turning to see who it was. Your heart shattered for the second time in the past month, seeing them so happy, so free. Without any care they stride into this place, arms around each other with visible lipstick marks on the others lips. It all made sense now, and you were a fool for not seeing it earlier.

Either that, or you were so scared that you didn’t want to see it.

I'll take the pain

Give me the truth, me and my heart

We'll make it through

If happy is her, I'm happy for you

“I just want to know how long.”

“How long what?”

“Don’t act dumb Prentiss.” Her name rolled off your tongue with pure venom, your eyes narrowing down at her. “How long have you had feelings for that homewrecker?”

“Don’t.” Rolling her eyes she made a move to walk out of the small room but you stopped her with a small shove.

“No, you don't get to just walk out after you broke my heart. I deserve answers Emily.” You kept your voice a mere whisper but every new word came out with more pressure.

She sighed heavily, grabbing her head with her hands. You knew that she felt even more guilty than she did that night, but you couldn’t care less. She broke your heart, so she’s in no position of denying you answers.

“It was… Probably two months ago.”

“Two- Two MONTHS AGO?”

“Keep your voice down.”

With a scoff you pulled your hand away from her reach as she tried to get a hold of you. “Look, I would’ve understood if you broke up with me the minute you figured out you loved another. But you– you waited two months. Two fucking months Prentiss.”

Looking at her with disgust you shook your head, not believing any sorry ass excuse that came out of her mouth. “I hope that you’re happy with her.” This time, you left her.

Stone cold, stone cold

You're dancing with her, while I'm staring at my phone

Penelope told you that going out for drinks with the team would brighten you up. But she must’ve forgotten that if she meant team, she also meant Jennifer And Prentiss. So you told her no a million times but finally caved in after she told you that the first two rounds were on her.

“I am going to get laid tonight.”

“And how do you know that?” The blonde looked at me from her seat as she sipped her sweet drink.

“Well it hasn’t been even five minutes and that dark haired woman over there has been eyeing me up and down.”

Pen giggled and looked over where the mentioned girl was sitting. Gasping, she looked back at you and nodded eagerly. “Oh you’re so getting that pussy Pumpkin.”

“Who’s getting who’s pussy now?” Derek’s deep voice came from behind you which made you jump in surprise. “Sorry.” He patted you on the back as you began to lightly choke.

“Now back to my question, who’s getting laid?”

“This charmer over here.” You blushed while rolling your eyes softly.

“Eh, it’s not even certain. It’s just that this lady has been staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Derek whooped quietly as he said something along the lines of going to get a drink and find Spencer.

“I’m telling you, if the doctor won’t hit it, I will.” You laughed at her words as you fell into small gossip in your own, two-person bubble.

Which burst when she left to order another round for the two of you. As you waited, you scanned the small club, your eyes lingering at the woman near the bar that seemed to be now occupied with someone else. Well there goes your choice.

Moving on your gaze falls onto the dance floor, seemingly being pulled onto the blonde and dark haired woman dancing together. Dancing like there was no tomorrow, moving their bodies like they’re one, not ones to shy away from an accidental intimate touch.

Clenching your jaw, you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. You knew this was a bad idea, and that just proved it. Standing up you brought one of your hands to your eyes to wipe them away as you walked out of the noisy place. Breathing in the fresh air you told yourself that she wasn’t worth it, that you deserved better. But you’d be lying if you said that you believed those words.

Stone cold, stone cold

I was your amber, but now she's your shade of gold

You noticed that ever since they got together Emily has been so much happier. She’d always come in with a bright smile and two coffees in her hand, sometimes you’d even look up hope stirring in your eyes, thinking that one is for you and all of this was one big nightmare, that is until she walks towards JJ and gives her a quick kiss along with her coffee.

Since the day she broke up with you, you counted that your heart broke approximately fifty-four times in the span of two months. Which is probably not a healthy amount, especially since you told yourself that you were moving on, that you were going to forget about Emily.

It’s easier said than done, because every day when you see the two of them you imagine yourself in her arms. That it’s you who’s making her laugh, causing her to blush profoundly and stare at her phone while biting her lip, cheering her up after a long and tiring case, that it’s your shoulder that she rests her head on. Not her.

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep longer than most nights. And it was only because of one question. One simple question that you never got the answer to. “Why her not me?”

Is she prettier? Funnier? Bolder? More confident? Would she prefer if I had a good up-bringing like JJ? Was she embarrassed of you? Disgusted by you?

All these questions made you more insecure than before. You started to hide your body more, even on hot days you’d cover every inch of your skin. No one questioned it and when they shot you a look of concern you’d simply look away. If Emily didn’t see you as something beautiful like a diamond or gold, then it meant you weren’t and you had to accept it.

You would always be simple amber to Emily Prentiss

Unlike Jennifer Jareau who was her gold.

Don't wanna be stone cold, stone

I wish I could mean this, but here's my goodbye

You softly ran your finger across the picture that had the whole team on it. A smile was gracing your lips but your eyes couldn't stop the tears from flowing. That's how you ended up sitting at your desk, crying like a baby. You were so deep into your meltdown that you didn’t hear the frantic feet that moved closer and closer towards you.

You didn’t recognize the person until they leaned in, your nose catching the perfume you once loved. Emily.

Pulling yourself up, you wiped the tears that were left on your cheeks as you looked up at her with a fake smile. “Can I help you with anything agent Prentiss?”

“Uhm– Are you okay? You were literally crying not even a second ago.” Before you could reply she gave you a stern look that shut you up. “And don’t even try and lie to me, I know all your tricks.”

“It’s nothing. Really.” You held up your hands when you saw her narrow her eyes at you, giving you the famous “Prentiss when she knows you’re lying” look. Sighing while you put the picture in a box, keeping your head down.

“I requested for a transfer and they agreed. The only person who was supposed to know was Hotch, but I guess you caught me in a bad time.” laughing lightly you tried to steady your breathing, knowing that having another breakdown in front of Emily was not something that you wanted to do.

“What? What the hell? Why did you do that?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t go to work without being reminded of you, I can’t stand the two of you always snuggling or sharing secret kisses here and there. Always caring for each other even when the moment doesn’t call for it. I–” Taking a deep breath you finally looked into her eyes. “I can’t stand to see the love of my life with another. So this is a goodbye.”

You stood up slowly, grabbing the box and leaning it against your left hip. Your gaze traveled back to the dark haired woman, catching her already staring at you. Not really knowing what to do, you leaned in planting a soft and brief kiss on her cheek.

“Goodbye Emily Prentiss.”

If happy is her. If happy is her. I'm happy for you.

291 notes · View notes

fleeingword · 2 years ago

Text

Stone Cold.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing,

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, Emily Prentiss x JJ, platonic!Penelope Garcia x Gn!reader

Word count: around 3k words

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Stone cold, stone cold

You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor

All of that was gone, and at first you didn’t think much of it, or maybe you were too scared to ask in case your overthinking thoughts were right this time.

“We need to talk.” Her expression was stone cold, you couldn’t read her. Hell you hardly could on a normal day, but today it was extra hard.

“What-” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice crack. What is it?”

“Better for you if we sit down.” With that she walked into your small apartment, the memories of your happy relationship came flooding into her head.

“This is not something that is easy to do, and I hope you don’t hate me…” Emilys voice faltered at the end of the sentence. Picking up her gaze from the floor she eyed your face with guilt.

With a small smile you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure I won't, love.”

“And I’m sure you will.” Echoed in Emilys’ head as she let out a breath, sitting down next to you. “I… I don’t love you anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? I thought- I thought you’d be mad!” She stood up quickly, her face changing from guilty to annoyed.

When you couldn’t hear her angry footsteps anymore you broke down. The love of your life just left you after admitting that she didn’t feel anything for you anymore.

That day you cried the whole time, you don’t think there was a moment where tears weren’t streaming down your cheeks.

Stone cold, stone cold

Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore

When the second week of your temporary leaving started to come to an end you decided to stop. Stop crying. Stop obsessing over Emily. Stop caring.

You got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, wanting to make yourself a good and healthy breakfast.

Stone cold, baby

God knows I try to feel

Happy for you

Know that I am, even if I

Can't understand,

“OH! EM! GEE! You’re back my lovely, little pumpkin!” With one hand around you and one hand still holding the pastries, she jumped up a little, not being able to hold in her excitement.

“I heard about everything, and I wanted to apologize that I wasn’t there for you, but we had a big case and it took a toll on me and you said to leave you alone and I did but I wanted to –”

“Thank you babes, you’re an angel. Did y’know that?” Kissing her on the cheek you walked further in, setting all your belongings on the desk, Garcia following you.

“There is something you must know.”

“What is it?”

“Em –”

The sweet concern in his voice made you chuckle lowly, standing up as you went to greet the both of them. “Dr. Reid! No one died. I’m just going through some things, nothing major though.”

He nodded and Garcia gave you a knowing look, one that informed you that Emily didn’t tell everyone about the two of you breaking up. Which was so not like her.

“Hey, have you seen Prentiss? She’s usually one of the first ones here.” Hotch asked while walking towards us from his office, Rossi close behind. The latter gives you a sorrowful look.

“Mmm nope, haven't seen her.” Derek was the first one to speak up, quickly followed by the rest that denied seeing her.

“Okay well we can’t wait for long, we have a case.”

After we were done he was basically fuming, with the two girls gone we were down two agents on field and that was a dangerous situation for us to be in.

“Does anyone know where the hell –”

Either that, or you were so scared that you didn’t want to see it.

I'll take the pain

Give me the truth, me and my heart

We'll make it through

If happy is her, I'm happy for you

“I just want to know how long.”

“How long what?”

“Don’t act dumb Prentiss.” Her name rolled off your tongue with pure venom, your eyes narrowing down at her. “How long have you had feelings for that homewrecker?”

“Don’t.” Rolling her eyes she made a move to walk out of the small room but you stopped her with a small shove.

“No, you don't get to just walk out after you broke my heart. I deserve answers Emily.” You kept your voice a mere whisper but every new word came out with more pressure.

“It was… Probably two months ago.”

“Two- Two MONTHS AGO?”

“Keep your voice down.”

Looking at her with disgust you shook your head, not believing any sorry ass excuse that came out of her mouth. “I hope that you’re happy with her.” This time, you left her.

Stone cold, stone cold

You're dancing with her, while I'm staring at my phone

“I am going to get laid tonight.”

“And how do you know that?” The blonde looked at me from her seat as she sipped her sweet drink.

“Well it hasn’t been even five minutes and that dark haired woman over there has been eyeing me up and down.”

Pen giggled and looked over where the mentioned girl was sitting. Gasping, she looked back at you and nodded eagerly. “Oh you’re so getting that pussy Pumpkin.”

“Who’s getting who’s pussy now?” Derek’s deep voice came from behind you which made you jump in surprise. “Sorry.” He patted you on the back as you began to lightly choke.

“Now back to my question, who’s getting laid?”

“This charmer over here.” You blushed while rolling your eyes softly.

“Eh, it’s not even certain. It’s just that this lady has been staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Derek whooped quietly as he said something along the lines of going to get a drink and find Spencer.

“I’m telling you, if the doctor won’t hit it, I will.” You laughed at her words as you fell into small gossip in your own, two-person bubble.

Stone cold, stone cold

I was your amber, but now she's your shade of gold

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep longer than most nights. And it was only because of one question. One simple question that you never got the answer to. “Why her not me?”

Is she prettier? Funnier? Bolder? More confident? Would she prefer if I had a good up-bringing like JJ? Was she embarrassed of you? Disgusted by you?

You would always be simple amber to Emily Prentiss

Unlike Jennifer Jareau who was her gold.

Don't wanna be stone cold, stone

I wish I could mean this, but here's my goodbye

You didn’t recognize the person until they leaned in, your nose catching the perfume you once loved. Emily.

Pulling yourself up, you wiped the tears that were left on your cheeks as you looked up at her with a fake smile. “Can I help you with anything agent Prentiss?”

“What? What the hell? Why did you do that?”

“Goodbye Emily Prentiss.”

If happy is her. If happy is her. I'm happy for you.

291 notes · View notes

fleeingword · 2 years ago

Text

Commenters are the real MVPs

20K notes · View notes

fleeingword · 2 years ago

Text

Stone Cold.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing,

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, Emily Prentiss x JJ, platonic!Penelope Garcia x Gn!reader

Word count: around 3k words

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Stone cold, stone cold

You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor

All of that was gone, and at first you didn’t think much of it, or maybe you were too scared to ask in case your overthinking thoughts were right this time.

“We need to talk.” Her expression was stone cold, you couldn’t read her. Hell you hardly could on a normal day, but today it was extra hard.

“What-” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice crack. What is it?”

“Better for you if we sit down.” With that she walked into your small apartment, the memories of your happy relationship came flooding into her head.

“This is not something that is easy to do, and I hope you don’t hate me…” Emilys voice faltered at the end of the sentence. Picking up her gaze from the floor she eyed your face with guilt.

With a small smile you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure I won't, love.”

“And I’m sure you will.” Echoed in Emilys’ head as she let out a breath, sitting down next to you. “I… I don’t love you anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? I thought- I thought you’d be mad!” She stood up quickly, her face changing from guilty to annoyed.

When you couldn’t hear her angry footsteps anymore you broke down. The love of your life just left you after admitting that she didn’t feel anything for you anymore.

That day you cried the whole time, you don’t think there was a moment where tears weren’t streaming down your cheeks.

Stone cold, stone cold

Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore

When the second week of your temporary leaving started to come to an end you decided to stop. Stop crying. Stop obsessing over Emily. Stop caring.

You got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, wanting to make yourself a good and healthy breakfast.

Stone cold, baby

God knows I try to feel

Happy for you

Know that I am, even if I

Can't understand,

“OH! EM! GEE! You’re back my lovely, little pumpkin!” With one hand around you and one hand still holding the pastries, she jumped up a little, not being able to hold in her excitement.

“I heard about everything, and I wanted to apologize that I wasn’t there for you, but we had a big case and it took a toll on me and you said to leave you alone and I did but I wanted to –”

“Thank you babes, you’re an angel. Did y’know that?” Kissing her on the cheek you walked further in, setting all your belongings on the desk, Garcia following you.

“There is something you must know.”

“What is it?”

“Em –”

The sweet concern in his voice made you chuckle lowly, standing up as you went to greet the both of them. “Dr. Reid! No one died. I’m just going through some things, nothing major though.”

He nodded and Garcia gave you a knowing look, one that informed you that Emily didn’t tell everyone about the two of you breaking up. Which was so not like her.

“Hey, have you seen Prentiss? She’s usually one of the first ones here.” Hotch asked while walking towards us from his office, Rossi close behind. The latter gives you a sorrowful look.

“Mmm nope, haven't seen her.” Derek was the first one to speak up, quickly followed by the rest that denied seeing her.

“Okay well we can’t wait for long, we have a case.”

After we were done he was basically fuming, with the two girls gone we were down two agents on field and that was a dangerous situation for us to be in.

“Does anyone know where the hell –”

Either that, or you were so scared that you didn’t want to see it.

I'll take the pain

Give me the truth, me and my heart

We'll make it through

If happy is her, I'm happy for you

“I just want to know how long.”

“How long what?”

“Don’t act dumb Prentiss.” Her name rolled off your tongue with pure venom, your eyes narrowing down at her. “How long have you had feelings for that homewrecker?”

“Don’t.” Rolling her eyes she made a move to walk out of the small room but you stopped her with a small shove.

“No, you don't get to just walk out after you broke my heart. I deserve answers Emily.” You kept your voice a mere whisper but every new word came out with more pressure.

“It was… Probably two months ago.”

“Two- Two MONTHS AGO?”

“Keep your voice down.”

Looking at her with disgust you shook your head, not believing any sorry ass excuse that came out of her mouth. “I hope that you’re happy with her.” This time, you left her.

Stone cold, stone cold

You're dancing with her, while I'm staring at my phone

“I am going to get laid tonight.”

“And how do you know that?” The blonde looked at me from her seat as she sipped her sweet drink.

“Well it hasn’t been even five minutes and that dark haired woman over there has been eyeing me up and down.”

Pen giggled and looked over where the mentioned girl was sitting. Gasping, she looked back at you and nodded eagerly. “Oh you’re so getting that pussy Pumpkin.”

“Who’s getting who’s pussy now?” Derek’s deep voice came from behind you which made you jump in surprise. “Sorry.” He patted you on the back as you began to lightly choke.

“Now back to my question, who’s getting laid?”

“This charmer over here.” You blushed while rolling your eyes softly.

“Eh, it’s not even certain. It’s just that this lady has been staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Derek whooped quietly as he said something along the lines of going to get a drink and find Spencer.

“I’m telling you, if the doctor won’t hit it, I will.” You laughed at her words as you fell into small gossip in your own, two-person bubble.

Stone cold, stone cold

I was your amber, but now she's your shade of gold

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep longer than most nights. And it was only because of one question. One simple question that you never got the answer to. “Why her not me?”

Is she prettier? Funnier? Bolder? More confident? Would she prefer if I had a good up-bringing like JJ? Was she embarrassed of you? Disgusted by you?

You would always be simple amber to Emily Prentiss

Unlike Jennifer Jareau who was her gold.

Don't wanna be stone cold, stone

I wish I could mean this, but here's my goodbye

You didn’t recognize the person until they leaned in, your nose catching the perfume you once loved. Emily.

Pulling yourself up, you wiped the tears that were left on your cheeks as you looked up at her with a fake smile. “Can I help you with anything agent Prentiss?”

“What? What the hell? Why did you do that?”

“Goodbye Emily Prentiss.”

If happy is her. If happy is her. I'm happy for you.

291 notes · View notes