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#chapter 10 will be out very soon!
Better late than never? Hope you’re ready for some Heather action!
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too-much-tma-stuff · 7 months
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Finally Getting Help masterpost
(On Hiatus for the rest of the month while I work on other things)
Soon after Danny takes two of the failed clones into his body his parents let Vlad take him to a Gala in Gotham. When the Bats clock that he is pregnant they work to get him away from Vlad, find out how and why this happened to him, and fix it.
Danny is just relieved to finally have some adults on his side, and be able to relax and focus on himself and the babies.
Part 1 - Gala and discovery
Part 2 - confronting Vlad and calling The Guy
part 3 - Research and meeting Zatana
part 4 - Raiding Amity
part 5 - Jazz and Danny reunite
part 6 - Jazz's power point
part 7- Damian and Danny bond and Jason comes back
Part 8- Jason meets Jazz
Part 9- Jason meets Danny (finally)
Part 10- Danny calls his friends
Part 11- First date (part 1)
part 12- first date (part 2)
Part 13- Danny's doctors appointment
Part 14- Jason and Danny go camping
Part 15- Vlad crashes the party
Part 16- Frostbite comes to give various check ups
Part 17 - meeting the Justice League
Too many people very kindly asked to be tagged so I've made a master post people can subscribe to! I will reply to this post to inform anyone subscribed about new chapters. Thank you
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Honey Girl. Chapter Ten.
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One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Eleven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - The two of you have some time to yourselves for what feels like the first time in forever.
Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x female reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. mention of a panic attack. initial hospital setting. one alcohol mention.
Word Count - 4k
Authors Note - 10!! 10 whole chapters!! can you believe it!! pancake recipe taken from mr carlos sainz - thanks carlito <3. double date next chapter (with protective/jealous bucky, as requested ;)). and the much awaited conversation… coming very soon. thanks for the love and support and kindness. it means the world, always <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”
“… which was?”
He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.
“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“We can’t sit out here forever, honey.”
You stretch out your legs from where they’ve been tucked up against your chest, chin resting on your knees. Bucky places a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles.
“We can.”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head.
“I know it’s scary, but we can’t run from this any longer. We’re just going to have to face it head on.”
“I know,” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just…”
You trail off, leaving words unspoken in the air like particles of dust in the sunlight.
“What are you so afraid of? Is it that they won’t support us? Honey girl, they aren’t gonna have much of a choice. We are literally soulmates.”
You’re trying to find a way to explain, but none of your thoughts are coherent enough to articulate into something comprehensible.
“I don’t know, Buck. At first, I think it was that. But now? Maybe I just feel guilty that we’ve kept something so huge a secret for so long. I used to tell my parents everything - by choice. That’s how we’ve always been. And suddenly, the biggest event of my life happens, and I… didn’t tell them?”
“You’re letting this guilt eat you alive, baby. Listen, I feel it too. You’re not alone in this. Do you know how many times your parents have asked me about dating in these last eighteen months? How many times we’ve talked about soulmates? And I guess I never lied… but I haven’t exactly told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you think you are.”
“I’m sorry,” you confess, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’ve had such tunnel vision with this whole situation. I’ve been selfish. I should have thought about you more.”
“You haven’t had to.”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey baby. You’ve never had to ‘think about me more’, because you’ve known how I felt this whole time. In here.”
He places a hand over your heart. You close your eyes, letting the warmth from his palm bleed into your chest. The weight of it grounds you back down to Earth, tethered to your soulmate in more ways than one.
“That’s the beauty of it,” he continues. “You don’t have to guess how I’m feeling, or when I’m feeling it - because I’m always telling you. And you’re always listening.”
“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand where it’s still linked with yours.
“The Universe disagrees,” he whispers back, leaning in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. “I disagree.”
It’s all so tender, so gentle, so real, that a lump in your throat forms instantly. You blink rapidly, fighting back tears as you press your side into his. If you could sew yourself into his ribcage and live there forever, resting your head on his beating heart, you would.
“Come on,” he coaxes carefully, pulling you to your feet and watching to see if you’re steady enough. “Let’s do this thing.”
You stare up at him, lost in those ocean blue irises. For a moment, you swear you see the waves moving in them, crashing against the shore in a motion so comforting, it reminds you of home.
“I love you.”
Bucky smiles at you, pupils dilating and heart beating that little bit faster. He’ll never get sick of hearing those words.
“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, honey girl. More than anything.”
Tangling your fingers with his, you inhale deeply before taking the first step forwards, towards the front doors of the hospital.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
When you reach your Dad’s room, you drop Bucky’s hand as if by instinct. When he links your fingers once more, you panic momentarily, before realising it’s futile.
They already know. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.
You walk through the door hand in hand, pressed into each others sides as if it’ll keep you standing upright. Maybe it will.
Your Mom instantly bolts out of her chair, coming over to assess you. She looks you up and down, cradling your face in her hands as she checks you over.
“You were gone a long time, sweetheart. You okay? Have you been crying?”
Bucky lets go of you to give you some space, but doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his warmth from behind you as you watch your Mom’s eyebrows furrow with worry.
“I had… I think it was, um… like a - a panic attack, or something. I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed.”
Your voice sounds so small again, so fragile. You mentally chastise yourself for not being stronger for her.
“Oh, honey.”
She pulls you into her chest, stroking your hair just like she did when you were a child and had a nightmare. You’d run across the hall and into your parents room - your Mom would always bolt upright when she heard little feet on the wooden floors, waiting for you with open arms.
“Your Dad is gonna be fine. I promise you, the Doctors have said he’ll make a full recovery.”
“It’s true.”
The voice is croaky and rusted from misuse, but it unmistakably belongs to the man lying in the hospital bed.
You make your way over and sit down carefully, cautious and calculated. Your Dad takes your hand, stroking his thumb across your skin.
“I’m gonna be just fine, kid. I know I scared you, and I’m really sorry. But I’m okay. Promise.”
You smile at him, genuinely this time, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“You guys should go home.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Go home, get some rest. The two of you look almost as exhausted as Lori does.”
Your Mom laughs, shaking her head. You chuckle, watching them. There’s no one funnier than your soulmate.
“I think we should stay a little longer, Jack.”
Bucky’s voice has all three of your heads whipping around to face him.
“Buck, please be on my side here. You’re tired. Go home, sleep it off. All I’m gonna do for the next twenty four hours is sleep anyway. There’s no point in you sitting here watching me like a bunch of creeps.”
You chew your bottom lip, watching your Dad’s face carefully.
“Mom, Dad - we need to talk about-”
“I know, babygirl,” your Dad interrupts. “And we will. But not here, and not now. We’ll do it when I’m home. We can all sit on the couch and drink your Mom’s cherry lemonade and talk about how you and Bucky have been soulmates this entire time.”
“Not this entire time,” you grumble at his attempt at a joke.
“Seriously, you two. I won’t ask again. Go. Home.”
You look at your Dad for a moment, before averting your gaze to your Mom. They’re both wearing the exact same facial expression - the one they used to give you when you’d refuse your bedtime as a six year old on a school night.
“Come on, honey. You heard them. We’re practically dead on our feet.”
You rise from the bed reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your Dad’s cheek before doing the same to your Mom.
“Call me if anything changes, or if you need anything. I mean anything, you guys.”
They both nod as your Dad does a mock salute, laughing at himself.
Bucky extends his hand out for you. This time, you don’t hesitate to take it. You hold it tightly all the way back to his truck, and then all the way back home.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You and Bucky get ready for bed in silence, both of you flitting around your apartment as quickly as possible. You can’t wait to finally get under your duvet and lose the stress of the last twenty four hours.
The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re wide awake.
The exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making you weary but restless. You can’t settle, physically or mentally.
Bucky, on the other hand, is out like a light.
He looks so peaceful like this. The moonlight soaks through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his face like some sort of angel. His hair is a little longer than usual, stubble growing out across his sharp jawline. He looks rugged, a little rough around the edges. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
As if he can feel your gaze on him, he cracks an eye open, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. He has a pillow crease across his skin, cheek flushed pink with a dusty blush.
“You okay, baby?”
His voice is hoarse and all sleep heavy, rumbling through you like gentle summer thunder.
“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, trying to fight back tears. “I’m so tired, Buck. So fucking tired.”
“But you can’t sleep?”
He pulls you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and stroking your hair soothingly.
“It’s like my body is exhausted, but my brain is wide awake,” you mumble into his bare skin. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“Nothing makes sense,” he chuckles lowly. “Nothing in this goddamn world makes sense. Except for me and you.”
Bucky spins you in his arms so your back is to his chest, bodies pressed together without an inch of space between you. Pressing a kiss into your neck, he starts mumbling.
“You just need to turn your brain off, baby. I know it’s easier said than done… so I’m gonna help you. All you need to do is focus on my voice, on my touch. Focus your attention on my hands on you, my lips on your skin. The heat of my body against yours.”
He skims his fingers down your side, gripping at your hips to ground you. He’s still kissing your neck, nipping occasionally to vary the sensation. He slips a hand down your front, cupping you over your underwear as you close your eyes, breathing him in. He smells like salt water and sea air and gasoline and home.
You cant your hips into his touch, trying to get him where you want him. Bucky takes the hint, slipping his hand into your panties and running a finger through your wetness. You groan, throwing your head back into his solid shoulder.
“Just switch off, honey baby. Give in to me.”
Bucky glides a finger into you, crooking it towards him. His palm hits your clit and you keen, whining all high pitched and breathy. His hips buck into your backside at the sound, and he chuckles.
“Fuck, you sound so sweet. Sweetest girl in the world.”
He adds another finger, using his thumb to circle your clit in precise, firm motions. You’re writhing against the mattress like a serpent, unable to stay still as Bucky takes you apart.
“Come for me, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. That’s it, atta girl… ride my hand, take what you need. Wanna hear how pretty you sound when you come.”
Your entire body tightens up as you reach your climax, back arching away from Bucky as he continues to curl his fingers. He pulls you close, anchors you to him as you moan and shudder.
Your head is empty, besides the thought of your soulmate. All you can think about is Bucky.
Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.
You take a stuttered inhale as you try to catch your breath, beads of sweat dripping down your back.
“You okay?”
He’s muttering into your shoulder, mouth never leaving your skin. You nod, linking your fingers with his where they rest on your waist.
“You didn’t come,” you whisper, leaning your head back into Bucky.
He kisses your cheek, chuckling lowly.
“This wasn’t about me,” he reassures. “It’s all about you, baby. Always is.”
The two of you breathe together for a little while, allowing you to come down from your high. Eventually, Bucky taps your thigh, nudging you up.
“Come on, honey. Get up and use the bathroom, and then we’ll sleep for the next week.”
You do as he says, crawling back into bed with limbs that feel like jelly.
“How you feelin’?” he asks as he pulls you into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“Fucking fantastic.”
He laughs and you can’t help but laugh too, as if by reflex.
“Yeah? No more racing thoughts in that pretty head of yours?”
“None. All I can think about is how much I want to sleep right now.”
Pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, Bucky tightens his arms around you.
“Then sleep, baby.”
You snuggle into your soulmates side, relaxing into the mattress.
“I love you,” you mumble into his skin.
“I love you,” he murmurs back. “Sweet dreams, honey girl.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
When you wake, you can’t tell if you’ve slept for five minutes or five days.
The sheets are crumpled, linen strewn across the bed as the pillows sit completely unmoved at the headboard. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, warming your skin that’s exposed to the sea soaked breeze.
You reach over to the other side of the mattress, seeking Bucky’s warmth. You’re met with empty space, and the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the room.
The man in question is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and sun kissed. His boxers are hugging his thighs just right, and you repress the urge to crawl over and sink your teeth into the muscle. Later.
“Morning or afternoon?” You croak out, watching as he softly smiles at your sleep addled voice.
“Morning. Eleven twenty four.”
You stretch your arms above your head, unaware of the way Bucky’s eyes are glued to your bare stomach.
“You want breakfast, or have you eaten?”
“Haven’t eaten yet. Was waiting for you.”
You slide down to the end of the bed where Bucky meets you, leaning down to press a minty kiss to your lips.
“Have you been awake long?”
He shakes his head, stealing another kiss.
“Ten minutes or so.”
“How’d you sleep?”
He moves some hair away from your face gently, the morning affection making you light up inside.
“Like a baby. Don’t think I moved once.”
You laugh, running your fingers over his bare shoulders.
“I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”
“Me neither. I think we need to start prioritising sleep a little more.”
“It’s just… so hard,” you murmur, rising onto your knees on the bed so you’re face to face. “I don’t ever want to sleep when I have the most handsome man alive in my bed. I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing.”
He groans, chuckling lowly.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll keep you in this bed all day. Won’t let you leave.”
“Is that a threat or a promise, Barnes?”
He football tackles you suddenly, both of you falling backwards into the plush sheets. You squeal, caught off guard as his hands squeeze your sides firmly.
“Keep running your mouth and see what happens, angel.”
You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction. When his eyes flutter closed, you breathe out a laugh.
“I’m so scared,” you tease, peppering his face with gentle kisses. “Like, quaking in my boots.”
He goes to retort, but is interrupted by the deafening sound of your stomach rumbling.
“If we weren’t about to get noise complaints from the neighbours about that hunger of yours, I would absolutely continue this. But…”
“We need to eat.”
“Yes, we do.”
You peck his cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching as you make your way to the kitchen. Bucky follows you eagerly. Of course he does.
You click the coffee maker on as you spin to face him where he’s leaning against the counter.
“I’m about to make you the best pancakes you’ll eat in your entire life, James.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Watch and learn, baby.”
When he doesn’t move, you walk him backwards, pulling out the bar stool from underneath the island.
“You just sit there and look pretty.”
He shakes his head with a smirk as you wink, turning on the stove and grabbing your bowls and utensils. He didn’t ask for a cooking lesson, but you’re about to give him one.
“The trick is to separate the egg whites from the yolks, and whip them. When they’re fluffy, you fold them into your mixture, and it makes the pancakes light and airy and gorgeous. Then you add honey, for extra sweetness.”
He watches you flit around the kitchen as if you’re the sun, bright and warm and radiant. He can’t take his eyes off you for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to.
Bucky’s blinking back tears, suddenly, as you sway your hips while flipping the pancakes at the stove. He wants to drop to his knees, yell out to a higher power and ask what the hell he did to deserve someone like you. He’ll beg, if he has to, for someone, something, to make sure that he finds you in every universe, in every version of this crazy life.
“I love you,” you beam at him, as if you’ve read his mind. “I love you more than anything.”
Your grin is so blinding, so utterly brilliant that the entire room lights up with it. Your own form of electricity.
“I… I-”
“I know, Buck.”
It gets like this, sometimes. Too overwhelming to put into words. To love someone more than anything, anyone - a love that knows no bounds - is completely indescribable.
So he doesn’t even try. He just nods at you, watching as your eyes light up at the sight of him.
“Will you pour us some coffee while I put these on a plate?”
“Anything you need,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair as he squeezes past you to grab the mugs. “Always.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You settle down to eat on the balcony, letting the midday sun warm you both up.
“I brought syrup, but, I also brought this.”
You hold out a plastic tub that contains a dark pink mixture, popping the lid off.
“Try it.”
Bucky sticks his little finger in, putting it in his mouth and sighing in contentment at the taste that coats his tongue.
“Good?”
“So good. What is it?”
“My homemade raspberry and lemon coulis. I make it to go on top of pancakes and waffles - it beats maple syrup any day.”
“You’re a genius.”
“So it’s been said,” you laugh, pouring it over your plate. “Now eat before they go cold.”
“Yes ma’am.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“You weren’t lying,” he says when he’s finished. “They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”
You laugh, sliding across to press your side into his.
“There’s a lot more where that came from. I have so many recipes I want you to try.”
“God, I’m so lucky. I have the most perfect soulmate in the world, and she’s a baker. What did I do to deserve you, hmm?”
You lean in to kiss him gently, licking across his lips. He tastes like raspberries and sugar and eight hours of sleep.
You’re sat in comfortable silence when your phone rings, startling you both.
“Hello?”
“Babe?”
“Lacie?”
“Hey!”
“Hi!”
You smile instantly, and Bucky does too, by default.
“Your Mom called me and told me about your Dad. She’s been keeping me updated over text. How are you guys holding up?”
“We’re good, honestly. It was a little touch and go at first, but now… we’re okay. All of us.”
“Good. I love you guys.”
“Love you too. So much.”
She sighs all deep and wistful, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“What’s up, Lace?”
“Well… I’m calling with a proposition. And I feel like you’re gonna say no, but your Mom already told me that I had to force you to do it, so.”
“Oh, God.”
“Come on a double date with me and Cameron tonight. Come for dinner and drinks with us.”
You take a deep breath, looking over at Bucky. He nods in agreement, encouraging you.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
Her surprise is undeniable, the octave of her voice rising ever higher.
“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it’ll be good for me to meet Cameron, finally. Plus, we’re visiting my Dad this afternoon, so we have a free evening.”
“Oh my God, I am so excited! Okay, I’ll text you the address of where we’re eating. Cam knows so much about you already, he can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait to meet Bucky… again? I mean I’ve met him before, but not as your soulmate.”
“Yeah,” you giggle. “It’ll be good for everyone to get… reacquainted.”
“Exactly!”
“Alright, Lace. We’ve gotta get ready to visit my Dad, but I’ll see you later?”
“See you later, babe. I am so excited. See you then!”
She puts the phone down, and you can almost picture the cloud of perfume and pressed powder that’s about to rain down on her bedroom. You wish you were there to watch it happen, like old times.
“Our first double date, huh?”
“It’ll be our last if you don’t behave,” you tease, leaning in to peck Bucky’s lips.
“Don’t tempt me.”
You laugh into his mouth, running your fingers through the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. It’s the longest you’ve seen it, and it’s starting to curl all cute and soft and wispy.
“Come on. Let’s go see my Dad, and then spend hours mentally preparing ourselves for Storm Lacie.”
“I always liked her. Seemed good for you.”
“She is. She’s the best.”
Bucky wraps a strong arm around your shoulder as you swing your legs over his lap, burying yourself in his bare chest.
“You nervous?” he asks into your temple.
“A little, weirdly. Meeting each others soulmate is the kind of thing we’d talk about when we were kids. And now we’re doing it.”
“We can handle it,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing patterns into your arm. “We can handle anything, you and I.”
“Anything?”
“Anything, honey girl. Anything.”
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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dianawinchester03 · 6 months
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Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Book 1 of The Old Testament Series by @dianawinchester03
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=====================================
Season One (Complete!)
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Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N
Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot
Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo
Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water
Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler
Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary
Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin
Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man
Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs
Season 1, Episode 9 - Home
Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum
Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow
Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith
Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666
Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare
Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders
Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow
Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House
Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked
Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance
Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood
Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation
Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap
Season 1 - Gag Reel
Season Two (Ongoing)
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Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying
Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown
Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust
Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things
Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said
Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit
Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects
Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues
Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan
Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted
Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings
Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter
Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy
Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign
Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales
Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill
Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart
Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)
Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)
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Also available on:
📖; ao3
📖; wattpad
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Authors Note:
I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶 I’ll update the list after each chapter release.
Update:
I just want to say thank you to everyone for giving my book a chance. I am very new to writing so I’m no Shakespeare lol, but I’m giving and doing my best. With all the overwhelming endless support and love I’m receiving at this very moment, it’s so much more than I can ask for and so much more than I deserve. I appreciate every single bit from the bottom of my heart🥹
Xoxo
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randomdragonfires · 6 months
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If The Sun Ever Rises | Series Masterlist
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Listen to the song that inspired this series HERE
PAIRING | Aemond Targaryen x Strong-Niece Reader
SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.
Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.
WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY
A/N: Major thanks to @humanpurposes for being the loml, and for helping me figure out critical plot points and being with me when I needed it. I love you. :)
NO TAG LIST. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON POST NOTIFS FOR @randomdragonfics for fic updates!
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Chapter 1 | To See You Again
Chapter 2 | Make Me Feel Alive
Chapter 3 | Live To See Another Day
Chapter 4 | Right Where You Left Me
Chapter 5 | Symptom of Your Touch
Chapter 6 | TBA
Chapter 7 | TBA
Chapter 8 | TBA
Chapter 9 | TBA
Chapter 10 | TBA
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Text Divider by @saradika
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somecallmegin · 5 months
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"The first inkling Kakashi had that something might be wrong with his kids was when he arrived at the academy 3 hours late to find the pink-haired civilian girl systematically dipping senbon in various liquids that he assumed had to be poison, chatting amicably with the two boys, and the loner-revenger-flight-risk was leaning against Naruto’s legs, head practically in the blond boy’s lap while Naruto deftly braided and unbraided the Uchiha’s hair."
Here's the colored version of the fanart sketch I did based on @themidnightguardian 's fanfic called "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me" (chapter 1, first scene specifically). It's a short, funny and slightly unhinged time travel AU I love to read again and again, it always cheers me up.
I honestly wasn't planning on ever rendering the sketch any further, and really thought that I might get out of my yearly Naruto phase soon, but 10 hours on Clip Studio Paint later and here I am. And to be fair, despite everything that still makes me sigh (a desk went missing at some point I think?), I have to admit I'm quite happy with the general feeling & even managed to fix Sakura's face which had been bugging me. Apparently my idea of "poison container" is very much stuck in the cartoon/DnD corner. The text on the posters is absolute gibberish of course.
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bouquetface · 1 month
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PAC: The end of your 2024
Please keep in mind, I am very specific in my readings. Not every reading you come across it for you. Don’t let the content stress or excite you too much. Take it as entertainment.
IF YOU CANT DECIDE BASED ON PHOTO, EACH PILE BEGINS WITH ASTRO PLACEMENTS THAT I PICKED UP ON.
1
WARNING: This reading contains darker topics like death. Please keep in mind tarot isn’t set in stone. It’s a read of the current energies surrounding the topic.
YOUR PLACEMENTS:
Scorpio Asc/First House
Pisces Moon esp @ 10-15 degrees
Libra Moon esp @ 7-9 degrees
Gemini Asc/First House
This reading begins with a change in home and family. This may have already occurred or soon will this Fall.
Some of you may be moving. Some of you may have a family member or roommate moving out. Some of you may experience a death in the family - pet, elder parent or grandparent or aunt/uncle, etc. There is a letting go occurring in the home and family.
For most, this is not a surprise. You may have planned the move for the Fall. You may know this family member or roommate is leaving. You may know someone in the family is very sick - comments about death/dying may have already been made.
This change in home and family will have taken place Aug-October. As a result, late Oct- early Nov, you will now step into a new chapter of life.
Potential changes pile 1 will experience:
❤️‍🔥 You may begin to change/adapt to your new way of living in your new home environment.
❤️‍🔥 You may make changes to your appearance. These changes could be on the face. Ex: New hairstyle, New skincare, Lip filler, Eyelash extensions, etc. Be cautious of impulsive change. Some may regret this change later.
❤️‍🔥 You may feel inspired to embrace sag themes- make plans or take action on travel & higher education. You may feel philosophical - questioning or embracing your religious/spiritual beliefs.
In November, you will meet new people. This could be due to a new career/job, having moved to a new place or school, etc. This person or people could have sag placements, be from a different ethnic, racial, or religious background.
In November, 2nd H is highlighted. Income, possessions, and money in general are prominent. By late Nov - early Dec, you could find a job, be promoted, or make a big financial choice (selling a possession, purchasing something big).
Be sure to read the fine print. Don’t be impulsive with your choices around this time. Rather than a physical appearance change, it may be this financial change you regret. There is a lot of room for error around this time. Regret may be dramatic. It’s more likely you may make a clerical error that will be an inconvenience to go fix.
2
YOUR PLACEMENTS:
Sag South Node esp @ 15-18 degrees
Libra Rising esp @ 6-1 degrees
Cancer Mars esp @ 25-29 degrees
You could have conflict with a family member early Fall. This may be a sibling or someone who acts immaturely. Or they could be a literal child. Major childish energy from this person.
You could be cutting ties with this person. It may not be forever for most of you. Some of you simply need to temporarily let this person go in order to regain your peace of mind.
Nov-Dec, Venus themes are prominent - money, love, beauty. South Node card indicates it’s because there is a decrease/letting go. It may be karmic for some of you.
Some of you could end a relationship (platonic, romantic or business). It won’t be a surprise. You’ll likely feel this connection fading out early Fall. The disappointment or stress from this could make you care less for yourself. You may indulge yourself with food or shopping. However, if you are the person who neglects themselves when sad, you may unintentionally loose weight.
You could feel very drained nov-dec.
Possible EXAMPLES:
💜 You could make financial purchases that literally drain your bank account.
💜 You could feel very tired and unmotivated. Seasonal depression.
💜 For some of you in specific, the drained and tired feeling is due to a health matter - pregnancy, cold/flu, injury, etc.
Unfortunately, mid to late Fall seems to be a lot of deep reflecting. You could feel hopeless. You could question the path you’re on. There will be some good moments - you could be celebrating someone else (birthdays, graduation, weddings, engagement, etc).
Truthfully, it seems seeing this event (in person or on socials) will only make you feel worse about your own situation. There is so much inner turmoil here. None of it seems to be coming as a surprise.
On the bright side, at the end of Dec, it seems you are replanning for the future. Some of you may find a new job or be promoted.
3
YOUR PLACEMENTS:
Aqua Rising/First house esp early degrees
SCORPIO MC esp @ 7-10 degrees
Venus Gemini esp @ 20-25 degrees
Scorpio Placements esp @ 7-19 degrees
🍂🍂🍂 🍂🍂🍂
This reading starts with a shocking & sudden change. You may have already experienced this or soon will.
Possible manifestations of this:
🍂 You could have made sudden changes to your appearance.
🍂 You could be changing your life direction. Your mindset towards life could be changing. It may be initially darker.
🍂 You may have undergone some kind of crisis. You could be having troubles with home or family. You could have experienced a painful ending of some sort.
There are some feelings & thoughts you can’t repress anymore. This will become more clear early Fall.
10th H Card - This suggests this change may have to do with your reputation and career. Late Oct - Early Nov, you may get a fresh start in career - new job, promotion, new role, etc. You may embrace a teacher role regardless of what you do. People may look to you for help around this time.
You could feel powerful. Some of you will seriously be stepping into a higher role/elevated status.
You may meet people especially Nov-Dec. There is potential for romance. Either you or them will approach cautiously due to past experiences. I can’t promise this spark will go far for everyone. Some of you may find this person or you want to keep things casual/friendly.
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chrissdollie · 11 months
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movie night (jess mariano x gilmore reader) ♡.。.:*
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a/n: just letting you know before you read, i wrote this at like 10:30, i was super tired and i did not proofread 😭 i’m just trying to get this out tbh. also this is kinda just bc i may not be able to get out chapters 5 and 6 for iwmflyb this week. ik it’s not billy but maybe i’ll do something for him tmr wc: 1.4k
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“rory! where’s my white sweater?” you yelled to your sister. you walked out of your room and ran downstairs to her room. “can i give it to you tomorrow?” she asked with puppy dog eyes, pouting. you folded your arms in her doorway. “why tomorrow?” you raised an eyebrow. “dean’s coming over tonight.” rory told you , getting up from her bed. “hm, okay. as soon as prince charming leaves, i’m stealing it back!” you sassed. rory stuck out her tongue at you in which you did right back.
then a knock was heard at the door. mom forgot to get luke to fix the doorbell, so everyone had to knock for now. “coming!” you yelled. you ran out of rory’s room to the door. you opened the door to reveal a slightly messy jess. “oh, hey.” you greeted. this was very random. “oh, hey back.” he teased. he welcomed himself into your home and walked to the kitchen. “wait why are you here?” you followed.
he took off his jacket and put it on the back of a chair. “i thought we were hanging out today?” he stated, confused. “no, you’re coming over tomorrow, silly.” you walked over to the fridge and took out a chocolate pudding. “dessert before dinner? naughty, naughty.” jess joked. “shh.” 
“your mom won’t mind right?” he questioned slightly nervously. 
“mind what?” you replied with a mouthful of pudding. rory came out of her room in a rush but stopped in her tracks seeing jess. “um. what’s he doing here?” rory folded her arms and tapped her foot. “hello to you too. i’m great, thanks. how are you?” jess spoke sarcastically. “you guys are bad hosts.”
you ignored jess and turned to rory. “jess forgot that he was coming over tomorrow instead of today, ror.” you explained. “you mind of we change it to today?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “no! dean is coming over today and i don’t want you to ruin it.” rory whined. “how would i ruin it?” he responded highly offended. “yeah, please tell us.” you quipped.
“by being… jess!” 
“now that’s a great answer if i’ve ever heard one.” you giggled. “i mean it though, dean doesn’t like him, he doesn’t like dean. you see the pattern?” she tried to convince you. “oh hush, you.” you silenced her, turning to face jess. “sure, you can stay. as long as you bring us the goods from Luke’s.” you ordered, standing taller. “i’ll go get them right now.” he winked.
rory rolled her eyes as soon as he left. you put your spoon in the sink. “why are you being so mean today? you’re friends with him!”
“okay, i’m sorry, but dean really doesn’t like him. i just don’t want him to ruin anything between us.” she confessed. “MOMMY! RORY’S HAVING BOY PROBLEMS!” you yelled very loudly. “shut up!” rory grinned, laughing. “NO IM NOT!” she yelled back upstairs.
the thudding of lorelai’s loud boots was heard as she ran into the living room. “spill it, sister.” she sat down excitedly. rory turned back to you. “he’s bringing Luke’s! i think it’s a pretty fair deal. and it’ll be like a double date!” you reasoned. “oooohhh. a double date!” lorelai’s eyes shone brightly like a cartoon character. “well fine, but what am i supposed to tell him? ‘oh, hi dean! do you mind if your least favorite person on earth joins us for our very romantic date tonight? thanks!’” she overdramatically acted out. 
“ooh, ooh, i’ll be dean!” lorelai turned her chair. she furrowed her brows and her voice changed to a deep tone. “oh no way, rory, i repeat, NO. WAY.” you giggled at your mother’s impression. 
“he doesn’t sound like that!” she tried to hide it, but rory couldn’t help grinning. “just don’t tell him.” you simply put. you nodded while rory scoffed. “whatever you say.” she walked back into her room. lorelai looked at you.
“she seems excited.”
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the first knock of the night was heard at 7pm. “knock knock!” rory went running to the door hoping it was dean first. but she was disappointed as it was jess instead with a box. “food!” rory cheered, grabbing the box from him. “thanks.”
jess closed the door and stepped inside. you were spread on the couch with a soft blanket on top of you. he walked over to where you were and bent over to kiss your head. “someone looks cozy.” 
“i am.” you grinned. “what are we watching tonight?” he asked sitting on your feet. “Donna Reed!” rory yelled from the kitchen. jess rolled his eyes smiling. “that’s not a movie. this is supposed to be a movie night.”
“whatever. she still deserves to be seen.” you sat up and leaned onto jess’ shoulder. “dean says he’s gonna be here in five minutes.” rory announced walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. “ooh, ooh!! you should hide and scare him.” you giggled mischievously. 
“no, that’s a terrible idea. that’ll make it even worse for him.” rory sympathized. she wasn’t wrong, dean would probably get super mad. “fine.” you shrugged. it’s alright, there will always be next time!
the second knock of the night was heard a few minutes later to which rory got up to answer the door. “hi, dean.” she leaned up to kiss him. he walked in and gave her the tub of ice cream. “what flavor did you get?” you asked him, shouting. 
he chuckled and walked into the living room. “hey-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw jess’ face staring back at him. he turned to rory. “wh- is this some kind of joke?” you could see the anger starting to rise.
“y/n wanted him over tonight. he said he’s going to behave.” rory soothed, handing you the ice cream and sitting down on the couch. his mouth formed a straight line when jess gave his little wave. 
dean walked over and sat next to rory with his arms crossed. you gasped. “neapolitan!” you cheered. jess grabbed a spoon from the table and dug in with you. “what are we gonna watch?” dean questioned, taking some popcorn. “donna reed.” you and rory answered simultaneously.
“what’s that?” he manspread on the couch. “i’m sorry, what? you’ve never seen it?” you exaggerated, putting a hand to your heart making jess grin. “that’s a sin.” rory gasped. “that’s a cruel statement.” you quipped.
“so it’s like a show?” he asked, smiling softly. he was slightly nervous with jess being here. part of him didn’t know how to act. “it’s more than a show. it’s a lifestyle!” rory boasted and turned to you. “it’s a religion.” you pointed with your spoon and a mouthful of ice cream. rory nodded with you.
“oh jeez, can you put it on already? i’m dying over here.” jess groaned dramatically. you stuck your tongue out at him and pressed play.
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“bye dean!” you waved goodbye after watching a few episodes of the great donna reed. rory was quite upset, though. jess fell asleep on the couch while you guys were watching so you decided to leave him there for a few minutes to talk to rory privately. “how could he like that kind of stuff?” she whispered. “i think he just meant that the idea of a wife cooking for her husband is nice.” you reasoned.
“but i don’t think he understands the time period. what it was like for women at this time, you know?” she continued whispering. you nodded your head in understanding. you think she was being a little extra, but you kept that to yourself. “i’m tired i’m going to sleep.” rory kissed your cheek and walked to her room. “nighty night!” you whisper yelled.
you crawled onto jess and he shifted over slightly. “jess,” you shook him slightly. “wake up for a sec, babe.” you needed to quickly make sure he was allowed to sleepover without luke going into a frenzy before you could sleep comfortably.
you could hear him awakening from his slumber. “yeah, what’s up? you okay?” he sat up quickly. “i’m alright, are you able to sleepover?” you asked, rubbing his arm. he nodded and laid back down, bringing you with him. he stroked your hair as you covered yourself with the blanket. “goodnight!” you kissed his neck before snuggling into him. “goodnight y/n.” 
you sat up all of a sudden. “my sweater!” you whisper-yelled out. “huh??” jess hummed. “i need to get my sweater back from rory!” you got up and ran down the hall to her room, slamming her door open. jess chuckled to himself. “I WANT MY SWEATER BACK!”
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adelheidvonschicksal · 7 months
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⋆。°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?
“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”
Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.
Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.
Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work
A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.
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“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 
Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.
“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 
Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 
There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.
“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”
The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.
“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 
“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”
When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 
When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 
“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 
“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 
“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 
“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”
“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 
It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 
As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.
“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.
“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 
And, well, Xavier…
“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”
Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.
You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.
You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.
The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.
So, you choose to wake him up.
“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.
Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.
Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.
“Mm…what?” he groans out.
Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”
A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.
“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”
Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.
“Red…” he mumbles.
You repeat after him. “Red?”
“Red…extra spicy.”
You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”
Oh. The hot pot restaurant.
“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.
“Yes?” you ask.
Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.
“Come home…with me…”
There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.
Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?
These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?
The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.
There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.
When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.
“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.
“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”
Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”
“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”
“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?
“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.
His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”
You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.
“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.
“I did? What did I get?”
“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”
“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”
“I do?”
He nods, his expression softening.
”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 
“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.
What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.
Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.
Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.
“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 
“How do you know?” you mumble against him.
“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”
”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.
Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.
When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.
“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”
You nod. “Real well actually."
Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.
“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 
“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”
For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.
“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”
Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”
“If we watch it together…”
He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 
“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 
“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”
“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 
“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”
“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”
When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 
“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”
Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 
“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.
Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”
You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.
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Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 
It's late when it happens.
The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.
The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.
It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.
He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.
Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.
Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.
You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.
“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.
“You always use that excuse.”
“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.
Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.
“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”
“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”
“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”
There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.
You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.
It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.
However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.
“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”
“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.
“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”
“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”
His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 
“I might end up falling asleep here.”
It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.
It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.
Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?
But it was his choice to agree.
Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.
When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.
“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”
The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.
“About what?”
The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.
“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”
You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.
“How would it be easier?”
“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”
There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.
But then, Xavier smiles.
“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”
Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.
“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”
“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.
“Do roommates sleep together too?”
There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.
“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”
“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”
“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”
“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”
“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”
Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.
“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”
Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”
He nods.
“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”
His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.
“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."
“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”
“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.
You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.
“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”
Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.
Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.
“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”
“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.
“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”
“And then?”
“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.
“Then, happily ever after?”
“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”
Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.
“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”
You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”
Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"
"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."
"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"
You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.
“Good night, roommate.”
“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.
Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.
When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.
“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.
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Chapter 10 might be out sooner! I plan on splitting the chapter in half for the sake of time and a few other things. I have a party to go to this weekend, and I won't be able to edit anything until Sunday morning. So, for the sake of reaching my goal, I'm just going to post a chapter today! So expect Chapter 10 part 1 to be posted.
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cosmonadarovicarts · 6 months
Text
IN THE TIME OF EDEN
Fanfic Comic Hazbin Hotel
Part 16
(Eve meets Lilith)
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It took me a while to publish because there were 10 pages of many dialogues!! Also sorry for the bunch of speech bubbles! I tried my best to reduce it, but I wanted to make Lilith as angry as possible, so she could become the femme fatale that we know - in fact we don't know yet haha ​​come soon second season!!-.
I probably drew the first humans with belly buttons -force of habit- but I paid attention to that in this chapter and it turned out very strange haha
Part 17
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Text
Summertime Sadness
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Warnings: Smut MDNI (18+), riding, love making? angst, love confession
Words: 5.6k
Synopsis: Simon has to leave again...
You are currently reading chapter 10 of The Roommate Series
You woke up to the sound of talking. 
You thought nothing of it for a moment, your mind too tired as you attempted to go back to sleep for a couple more minutes. You stayed up late last night talking with Simon about anything and everything, the conversation not really ending until you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.
It was the most he had ever spoken to you about himself since you’ve known him. Of course, throughout the years he would tell you about where he grew up and small things about his life before he met you, but this had been entirely different. You learned much more about his family and his life than you ever would’ve thought to know from someone as private as him. 
You got as close to being inside of his mind as you could because he willingly let you in.
Simon Riley broke down his walls for you.
It warmed your heart but twisted it all the same. The things you learned connected a few of the dots on why he was the man you had fallen in love with and you would never change that, but that didn’t mean it hurt to think about what he went through.
His father, the torture…
You were cuddled together in his bed, your entire body laying on top of him while he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You had lightly dragged your fingers through his hair, caressing the scars on his face while the two of you continued to talk.
“Why do you stay if it hurt you so bad?” You had asked him while listening to his heartbeat. 
“Someone has to make them scared of the dark.” He had held you close to him and ghosted his lips across your hairline. “Want to keep you safe too.”
You learned very little else about his job, except that ‘them’ were terrorists, and suddenly his paranoia made sense. Everything about him surrounding his job made sense but that didn’t make you feel any better about the thought of him leaving again. 
In fact, it only made you more anxious. 
He had already been captured once, had more scars from injuries and wounds from his work and had crawled back to you nearly bleeding out to death. It was clear his job was dangerous, just like he said, but it only set in now that anytime he left you alone it might be the last time you’ll ever see him.
That didn’t sit well with you, but instead of expressing that to him last night you kept it in. 
You crack your eyes open and peered at the empty spot on the bed behind you, slight disappointment filling your stomach. 
Simon had woken up before you again but unfortunately didn’t wake you up with him this time. He probably didn’t want to wake you up, valuing your sleep more than you do, especially since you didn’t mind the morning sex with him, especially because it was him.
It took you a moment to realize that the talking inside the apartment wasn’t from the TV, considering that Simon rarely ever turned it up higher than a single digit, but from Simon and someone else. Their voices were hushed but the thin walls made it so you could almost make out what they were saying.
You slipped out of bed and slowly made your way out into the kitchen, curious about who Simon had invited inside the apartment.
Your curiosity disappeared when you saw Price sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand.
The conversation died as soon as you walked in. You felt like a deer in headlights as the two men stared at you as if you were an unexpected guest. 
“Good morning.” Price greeted with a soft smile that made your chest tighten.
“Morning, love.” Simon mumbled to you as he came up to you with a plate of breakfast.
“Morning…”
You stared at him with uncertainty and a heavyweight settled on your shoulders. He gave you a knowing look, his dark eyes full of guilt as he handed you the plate and gave you a gentle squeeze on your waist. 
You gave him the best smile you could as you pushed the negative feelings down and if it weren’t for the fact that Price was in the room, you would’ve given him a kiss.
Simon moved away from you and went back to the stove where he began to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
You sat across from Price and continued to smile. You didn’t hate him, even when you had only met him once, but you couldn’t help but feel some dread knowing that he was here to bring bad news. 
“Sleep well?” He asked and you gave him a polite smile.
“I did.” You glanced at Simon and though you tried your hardest to keep your stomach from churning, you found that you weren’t at all hungry.
“I’m sorry about coming by unexpectedly again, I promise I’ll be better about it next time.”
You shook your head and gave him a small laugh. You assumed he was trying to soften the blow by trying to make conversation but you would much rather him get to the point so you could worry about what to do in the aftermath.
What were you going to do while he was gone? How much longer will he be gone for this time? He had come back unexpectedly, in the middle of whatever it is that he does, that’s what was told to you, so you had no clue. Would you be back in school by the time he got back? Would the next semester end before he got back?
“I came by to check on Simon-”
“I’m assuming to see if he can go back, right?” You looked at him and his face fell slightly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”
Price scoffed and he looked slightly amused, though you could see the cold seriousness hidden within his eyes. You were probably doing him a favor for cutting the conversation short, making it easier for him to break the news without having to deal with the hysterics slowly building up inside you. 
Simon stopped cleaning the dishes and frowned, his eyes burning into you but you refused to look at him.
“It shouldn’t be for too long, just tying up loose ends.” He explained and you nodded, unsure of how true that statement was.
“You’ll keep him from getting stabbed again, I hope?” You teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Price flashed a quick smile while Simon huffed. 
“I can watch my own back.” He grumbled and Price raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Don’t make me embarrass you in front of her.” Price threatened and if it were any other time you would’ve laughed, maybe played into it as well but you didn’t have the energy for it.
“Please?”
Price looked back at you, his face stern now, and he nodded. He didn’t have to say anything because you could see it in his eyes that he meant it and it should’ve made you feel better but all you could think was that you couldn’t go through what you did again.
“Thank you.” You breathed out.
“Of course.” He said solemnly and the kitchen became quiet.
Price didn’t linger. He took another sip of his coffee from the mug he had before he stood up and handed it to Simon with a pat on his shoulder. 
You went to stand up as well so you could see him out but Simon stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Eat. I’ll be back.” He assured you and you nodded.
You gave a polite smile to Price that he returned before the two of them disappeared, their voices hushed once more. You heard the front door open and suddenly the emotions began to bear their weight down on you.
The air was thick as you stared down at your plate, your stomach churning with so much anxiety that you felt so much nauseous you were sure that you were about to throw up. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hiding your face behind your shaky hands as you tried to gain control of your body. 
Simon was leaving you again. He was going to put himself in harm's way and he might die, you might never see him again, he might get captured again.
Your throat tightened and you struggled to breathe. You had to have faith in him but you couldn’t help but think of the what ifs and the worst case scenarios, especially when every single one of them ended in death.
You don’t know what you’d do without him. You’re not sure if you could live with him being truly gone…
You heard his footsteps approaching and quickly tried to regain composure. At least you knew ahead of time, at least you had more time to prepare yourself for when he left and you weren’t going to waste what little time there was ruining it with your anxieties.
Before he came back in the kitchen you put on a face and pretended to be fine while you picked around your plate.
Simon said your name as soon as he walked through the door, his voice soft and  nearly remorseful before you looked at him with a fake smile. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes hardened when you walked over to him.
“I was thinking we should invite him over when it’s not work related.” You told him before you pulled him into a hug. “And John and Kyle.”
“If that’s what you want, we can find the time.” He mumbled and hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.
You almost wanted to melt into his touch, to have him hold you and let you cry how unfair it was to make him go back after being injured, but you stopped yourself. You knew what it would do to him, the guilt that he would feel for just doing his job, so you pulled away from him.
You stared at him, taking in everything about his features that you could in case you wouldn’t be able to remember them when he was gone. You had mapped out the scars every night, the way the bridge of his nose was crooked and the way his eyes drooped tiredly. You counted the small freckles and traced the wrinkles, finding your heart warmed when you noticed the crows feet on the corners of his eyes.
You lifted a hand and traced your thumb over the scar close to his eye causing him to lean into your touch with a soft, saddened expression.
“When?” You could barely ask the question above a mumble but you kept your face as cheery as you could.
“Tonight.” He told you as he caressed your cheek with calloused fingers. “I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”
You nodded slowly as your heart sank. You only had the rest of the day to spend with him and it felt like you had wasted so much time already. It wasn’t like you could’ve known but it felt like you should’ve, so now you had it in your mind that you had to fix the mistake. 
You wanted to spend as much time with him today as possible and to make his last night here worth it.
“I-”
“How about we have an inside date later?” You offered, already coming up with a plan. “Dinner and a movie, the classic.”
Simon’s face fell and he stared at you with that same guilty look he had earlier. He continued to hold you close to him as if you’d move away while he stared deep into your eyes as if he could read your mind with just a look. He had a frown on his face as he rubbed his thumbs into your hips in an attempt to calm you both, but your mind had already set itself on ignoring your feelings and fixing the problem.
You ran your hands down his arms and gave him a reassuring squeeze, in hopes that maybe it would be enough to distract him to forget about looking more into it.
“What do you say? I think we have enough food to make something,” you offered again and gave him a smile in hopes it would win him over.
He was quiet for a moment. He was in deep thought as the frown on his face didn’t go away. A quiet, but long sigh left his chest before he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and he gave you a firm squeeze.
“As long as I get to help you cook.” He said and you gave him a look that made the corner of his lips twitch.
“You never let me spoil you.” You grumbled and he rubbed his thumb into your hip.
“Don’t need it.”
You couldn’t help but frown at that. You knew that he wasn’t joking, it was hard enough to get him to accept your help most of the time so you knew that he truly thought he didn’t need you to spoil or take care of him. It made your chest tighten and your heart twist in ways that hurt when he spoke of himself that way now. 
He had told you it had been years ago, way before he had posted an ad for a roommate. He had told you he was better, that what you saw on the days where he rarely left his room or when he was more quiet, more angry, those were remnants of time much darker than now, but that didn’t change anything.
You still wondered if he knew the extent you would go to alleviate that pain. How much you were willing to take care of him as much as he was willing to take care of you. 
You hoped he would know tonight. You wanted to make his last night here for the next few months the best it could be and if that meant stubbornly forcing him to let you take care of him you didn’t care.
“Alright?” Simon squeezed your hip and you placed a kiss on his cheek. “You should eat.”
“I need to get ready for the day, but thank you.”
His eyebrows knitted together and somehow you managed to slip out of his hold before he could stop you. He didn’t say anything but watched you make your way to your room with your thoughts already taking over most of your senses. 
~
The rest of the day went by in a blur. 
You spent every moment with him that you could and luckily he didn’t seem to mind. It was one of those days where neither of you left the apartment for any reason even if you thought of something that needed to be done.
Simon piddled around the apartment doing the chores that needed to be done for the week. He refused to leave them for you to do, once again using the excuse that since you were there more often than he was he might as well make it so you didn’t have to do anything for the first week he was gone.
You didn’t want to admit to him that he had saved you from living in a squalor for the next couple of days.
It had become harder each time he left to make yourself do the things that needed to be done the first couple of days he was gone. The apartment would usually be a wreck for a couple of days while you struggled to get over the heartache you felt from him leaving. 
You knew tomorrow would be rough. You were sure you were going to be in tears the entire day, especially since you were struggling to keep your emotions in now as the two of you finished dinner.
You were quiet all evening. The closer the day went to night, the more anxious you became and the more you began to overthink everything about him leaving.
This was the first time you had time to prepare for it and yet you felt completely lost. Even when you knew how to handle him disappearing, right now it felt like everything was falling apart as you waited for the time when he was gone. Somehow it was worse knowing he was leaving this time, knowing that maybe he wouldn’t make it back.
Simon said your name and you turned to him.
“Hm?”
His eyebrows were knitted together and it was hard to tell whether or not he was upset at you or upset about something else as he gently took the dirty dishes that you were about to clean from your hands. 
“I said I could do them.” He told you and you chewed on your inner lip.
“Oh,” you didn’t protest as he took them to the sink. “Do you want me to help?”
Simon shook his head and you frowned. You hesitated to leave and he noticed the look on your face. He wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a firm squeeze in hopes that maybe it would help you.
“I’ll meet you in there.” He gave you a soft pat on your lower back before he went back to washing the dishes.
You sat on the couch in the  living room and didn’t make a move to turn on the TV to find a movie. Instead you began to stare off into space again, your thoughts taking over as you watched the black screen with indifference. His departure was all you could think about, it was unfortunately the only thing that mattered to you right now.
You tensed up and took a shaky breath. You could feel yourself barreling towards an explosion of emotions that you had pushed down since this morning. You didn’t want to cause a scene or to make the last few hours of Simon’s time home until he would come back, whenever that would be, dealing with the fact that even after so many years you still couldn’t handle him being gone.
Your vision blurred and you placed your hands over your eyes, wiping away any tears.
“Love.” 
You jumped at the sound of Simon’s voice and you very quickly tried to pull yourself together. You gave him a weak smile, one that didn’t convince him as he sat down next to you with a heavy sigh. 
You saw the concern in his eyes and you immediately set on getting his attention away from you.
“I’m okay.” 
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
Simon said your name again, a little more stern than before and suddenly shame settled in your stomach. You turned your body away from him, keeping your eyes on the floor as you did while your stomach twisted up in knots.
You didn't want him to know how upset you were and yet being found out, him knowing that you were keeping it from him made you feel stupid. You could’ve done better at hiding it, you were better at hiding it, at least you thought you were but this time it was hard.
Hard because you opened your heart to the feelings you had once pushed away. Hard because he had reciprocated them tenfold, like it was what he was made to do, to love you like you were the moon, the sun and everything else in the universe. 
You didn’t want this to be the last time you could ever return that.
Simon grabbed your wrist and tried to get you to look at him. When you didn’t, he placed a careful kiss on your pulse and gently tugged you close to him. 
You moved closer to him, leaning some of your weight against him but still kept your eyes on the floor.
“Look at me.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek and turned your head towards him.
You had no choice but to meet your eyes with his. You shrunk under his serious gaze unsure if he was truly upset at you or if he was upset about the current circumstances that had come about because of the way he had returned. 
He stroked his thumb across your cheek, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made heat pool at your stomach while also making you feel incredibly vulnerable , like he could see into your mind and into your soul, to the very inner workings of who you were.
He stayed quiet for a long moment, drinking you in and taking in every detail on your face, while you did the same, before he spoke.
“This is how it’s going to be.” His voice was low and calm as he spoke, his thumb still caressing your skin. “If you can’t live with it, you have to tell me now.”
You could live with it, you already have. 
It had crossed your mind a few times that maybe it was too much waiting for him to come home, that maybe the constant loneliness that came with his absence would hurt too much to the point that you weren’t sure if you could wait for him to return however many months it took for him to get the job done. And with the added reality that he might not come home after all of that, you wondered if you could handle it. 
But when he did come home, when he finally pulled you into his embrace and let you feed him and showed you that he was back it made the wait worth it.
Simon made everything worth it.
“I can.” You were just as serious as him as you placed a hand overtop of his. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not hard to watch you go.”
“Coulda said that earlier.” His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out a short breath.
“I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”
“I’m always going to feel guilty, especially if you keep it from me.”
You nodded and your eyes dropped. You scooted onto his lap where he wrapped his arms around you and situated the both of you in a more comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest while he rested his chin on the top of your head, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your hips.
You let out a shaky sigh.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.
“...Thank you for staying.” He whispered back and you nodded.
You both said nothing for a long while. You relaxed against him and for a moment you felt like you could fall asleep here, his arms were safe and loving to the point that after all of the emotional turmoil he was putting you to sleep. 
You would’ve if it didn’t mean that he would disappear.
Instead, you took a deep breath and focused on the present.
“Do you hate leaving?” You wondered out loud, the questions finally pouring out after being kept in for so long.
“Every time.” He said without missing a beat.
You hummed and listened to his steady heartbeat. Relief washed over you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It was easy to tell he liked being back home, that he enjoyed your presence, but being told that was something entirely different. 
It felt good to know that he hated leaving just as much you hated watching him go.
For a moment you wondered if you shouldn’t ask anything else but you figured it was best to get it out of the way now rather than wait until years down the line.
“Would you ever want to quit?”
“Love…”
“I’m not trying to convince you, I just want to know.”
Simon was quiet for a long time. He was deep in thought yet he never stopped his ministrations as he kept a firm hold on you. He took a deep breath and squeezed you gently.
“Hard to say. Probably not.”
You’re not sure what you expected. Maybe you wanted him to completely change his mind and tell you that soon he would quit his job to get something less dangerous that would keep him home so you didn’t have to worry about him dying. That he finally realized he didn’t have to stay, he didn’t have to fight, but that was selfish of you.
From what he had told you, from what you could infer, his job had been the only thing that kept him together until he could on his own. It was stable enough for him, enough to give him a purpose, so you couldn’t take that away from him. 
“I’ll always come back to you.” He reassured you as if he could read your mind.
“What if you dont?” You could barely say it.
It was a possibility. There were only so many times he could run back to you on death's door, so many times he gets lucky and avoids capture or death before he made one mistake. One mistake and he’d be gone from you forever, and you’d be left alone to pick up the pieces he’d leave behind.
You trusted him, you were sure he was good at his job, but people died in the force all the time. 
“Then I hope you’ll forgive me.” He said softly, almost as if there would be a possibility that you wouldn’t.
Your throat tightened and tears threatened to form. You clenched your jaw and in that moment you knew that you had to tell him just in case this would be the only time you could.
Before you could even think, you shot up and looked him in the eyes.
“I love you.”
Simon’s eyes widened and his body stiffened underneath you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips and he stared at you with an unreadable expression on his face while his eyes bounced around your face. He barely let you move on his lap as he stared at you like you had grown another head or that you had said something outrageous.
It sent your stomach into knots and you chewed on your lip. You didn’t regret saying it but maybe it was too early, maybe for him it was too much especially since he was leaving in a couple hours. It took him three years to tell you just a fraction about his past, maybe it was too intimate-
“Say it again.” He practically demanded.
You blinked but he pulled you closer to him. You placed your hands on chest and felt his racing heartbeat as he eyes softened, peering deep into you as he kept you firmly against him.
“I love you.” You repeated, softer this time and he swallowed hard.
A light blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Instead of averting his gaze however, he leaned forward and ghosted his lips across yours. It was soft and almost hesitant before you reciprocated it. 
The kiss was slow, blooming into something more as his hands began to roam across your body as if he were touching marble. He sighed heavily, his hand settled as the base of your neck to deepen the kiss while you straddled his lap.
You gasped into his mouth when you felt his hard cock rub against your heat and pushed your hips further down. You swallowed the grunt that escaped his lips and clutched his shirt tighter as he broke the kiss.
Simon rested his forehead against yours as the two of you caught your breath. He massaged his fingertips into your neck, causing your eyes to flutter shut while he pressed a few quick kisses against your skin.
“Again.” He whispered against your lips desperately as if the words were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.
“I love you.” You whispered back and he shuddered. 
He locked you lips in another kiss that was more heated than the last but just as slow. He kept you against him before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and began to take it off.
You pulled away from him, light headed as you tossed your shirt on the floor somewhere. You shivered when his hands touched your bare skin, the heat from his palms raising goosebumps as he unclasped your bra and tossed it away as well.
Simon didn’t hesitate to kiss your breasts, leaving hot kisses against the plump flesh before he took a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh only because you let out short whines that made his cock impossibly harder.
Your hands grasped his hair and you tugged on the strands, your hips grinding your clothed cunt against him for any kind of friction. Your panties were wet as he moved to your other nipple while his hands traveled to your ass. 
He moved your hips for you and the more he touched you, the more he kissed your skin and revered you, the more you yearned for him.
You needed him inside you, in your heart and in your soul. You needed him to stay even though you knew he wouldn’t and you needed him to show you how much he loved you back despite that. You needed him fully, with every part of him that he tried to hide from you.
“Need you.” You panted as you tugged on his shirt with pleading eyes. “Please, I need to feel you.”
Simon didn’t hesitate to throw off his shirt, a heavy sigh falling from his mouth when your hands pressed against his skin. He helped you throw off your shorts and panties, the rest of his clothes following, leaving the two of you laying naked against each other.
It was all the two of you needed for a moment. You would’ve been content laying against him like this any other day, just feeling him and holding onto him, but you need more.
His cock hard and red, beads of precum on the tip, rested in between your legs on your soaking cunt. He bucked his hips up a few times, dragging it across your slit where the tip eventually caught onto your entrance and you both gasped.
“Simon…”
“Fucking hell, love.”
You raised your hips and slowly began to sink down on him.
You whimpered, still not used to the size of him, though you were sure you never would be, and dug your fingernails into his skin. You already felt dizzy and you barely had the tip inside of you, your walls clenching around him like he would disappear.
Simon pressed his lips to your pulse and kissed it gently. He moved his lips across your neck, sucking marks into your skin as he rubbed his hands soothingly into your body. 
“Breath, love.” He kissed underneath your jaw and you moaned when you sank further down on his cock. “That’s it.”
He continued to whisper sweet encouragements in your ears until you were fully seated on him, a tight moan escaping his mouth. Both of you were out of breath, pressed together and panting as the head rested against your cervix. 
You looked deep with his eyes and raised your hips, beginning to bounce on his cock as soft whines escaped you. You didn’t break eye contact with him as you did, heat coursing through your body and sending electric shocks through your nerves as you rode him.
He thrust up into you slowly but deep. Each thrust from his hips matched the rhythm you set as the air was knocked out of your lungs and your head suddenly became light. You were so full of him, stretched out by his massive cock that nearly all coherent thought had been lost to you, the only thing now were the soft moans and whines that escaped your throat.
He stared up at you with heady lovesick eyes. He let out soft grunts and groans as you rode him with the love you proclaimed that struck him in his cold heart, that gently took away the walls and the constant need for survival, leaving him feeling incredibly different.
All that was left was Simon Riley, vulnerable and in love with you.
His cock dragged in and out of you, hitting the spot that had your legs quivering and you squirming on top of him. Your stomach pulled and you curled your toes, the all too familiar sensation building up inside as he continued to thrust into you.
You were close and he could feel it. You gasped when he sped up his thrusts just enough to make you see stars while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut and for a moment you let yourself feel the sensation of your bodies together.
Simon gently cupped your face and you forced your eyes open to look at him. He stared at you with heavy eyelids and caressed his thumb across your cheek. He leaned forward and pressed chaste kisses against your lips while his other hands fumbled with the dog tags around his neck. 
You barely noticed him slip it around your neck until the heated metal bounced against your chest. 
You came immediately, your cunt fluttering around his thick length as your vision went out. You wrapped your arms around his neck, falling limp against him as he held your waist while he fucked you through your orgasm.
His thrusts became sloppy and it only took a few more deep ones before you felt him release hot ropes of cum inside you. He hugged you close, both of you waiting to come down from the high while he left soft kisses on your shoulder.
The two of you stay like that for a while, unable to separate from each other and even finding yourselves riling each other up again when you just had to utter those three words again.
“I love you.”
Link to part 11
A/N: I needed this tbh. Should've been doing work but I got stressed. Lowkey smut, I tried but lost some steam
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
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@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
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hwaslayer · 21 days
Text
vivrant thing (jwy) | two.
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—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST
—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 
—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader
—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, eventual smut
—WORD COUNT: 8.8k
—CHAPTER WARNINGS: cussing/mature language, ponytail wooyoung !!!, alcohol consumption / intoxication, party at the winery!, dancing, sweet affectionate moments, songs mentioned are in the playlist, wooyoung is very sweet and will take care of his date 10/10 recommend 🥰
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"Wait, wait, wait." San shakes his head in disbelief. "You're going to your sister's company summer party? With Y/N?"
"Mhm." Wooyoung responds nonchalantly.
"I thought her car was already getting fixed at the shop though, what does that have to do with you?"
"You think my sister is gonna leave it at that?" Wooyoung cocks a brow before putting down the navy button-up shirt back on the rack. "I'm just doing her the favor so she can let me be. I know she'll continue to hang it over my head if I don't."
"Wow, you're strong."
"I only agreed cause it's one night. And cause of the whole thing with my sis. Believe it or not, I don't always want her finding reasons to nag at me."
"Wouldn't that be weird, though?"
"What?"
"Being Y/N's date."
"Sure, but it's whatever."
"What're you even gonna talk about all night?"
"I don't know? Am I supposed to have a list ready and check it off as I go?" He gives San a weird look. "I'll figure it out. Who knows, it might not even be that bad."
"I'm not gonna lie, she did look pretty cute at your parents' bbq."
"She's always been cute. She's just shy as hell."
"Mm, yeah." San starts to eye the sweaters on the rack, pulling out a few and hanging it against his chest to see how they'd look on him. "So, what are you guys wearing?"
"I'm not sure." San's forehead crinkles when he turns to look at Wooyoung.
"Aren't you supposed to be sure? You're going together. You have to match."
"Well, we don't really have to. We're not dating, we're just going to a party together as friends."
"Acquaintances."
"Yeah, okay Merriam-Webster." Wooyoung scoffs and pulls out a black button-up shirt that he probably already has in his closet— but it wouldn't hit the same as buying a new one for a summer party. "Stop trying to make it seem like it's super complicated when it's not."
"I'm not. I'm just having a hard time imagining it."
"Then, don't. She's really not that bad."
"Wish she wasn't so shy." Wooyoung turns to San.
"Or.. what?"
"Maybe I would've tried getting to know her more."
"Fuck outta here, Choi San. You're only saying that shit because I'm taking her out to a party." Wooyoung points towards the front of the shop. "Wait. You see that right there?"
"What?" San leans over to try and get a good look at what Wooyoung is pointing at.
"Look closely." He ushers him to get closer. "If you look straight ahead, you'll see the front door. You can take your exit there."
"Fuck you."
"Shut up then. Don't start saying that stuff about Y/N." Wooyoung rolls his eyes as he continues to flip through the racks, trying to spot more clothes to buy and fill his closet with. He's not really sure why he feels the sudden need to be protective of you, especially with San. Hearing him say things like that rubs Wooyoung the wrong way and he's not sure if it's because he's known you for years, or because of something else that he doesn't really wanna think about right now. In the end, Wooyoung doesn't deal with feelings. They're too complicated, and they tie him down. 
"Oh my god! Those dresses are so cute, you'll definitely find one here!" Wooyoung overhears from nearby.
"Whoever that is, sounds exactly like my sister." Woo does a slight head tilt and pretends to shiver. "Can't escape—"
"Because it is your little sister, dummy." San nods his head towards your direction, the both of them watching as you, Jiwoo and Hongjoong walk into the same store. It's almost like the sibling radar goes off for Jiwoo because it doesn't take long before her eyes meet his.
"Why are you here?" She asks, slowly approaching them.
"Waiting for security to take your ass out." Wooyoung looks at the security guard and pretends to call him over. "Excuse me. The nuisance is right here, sir. Please escort her out." Jiwoo rolls her eyes and walks closer to him, giving Hongjoong the opportunity to greet him and San. "Whattup!"
"Taking these girls shopping for the party." Hongjoong responds.
"Me too!" Wooyoung points at San, causing him to click his teeth in response. "Hey Y/N." He smiles down at you and pulls you into a hug before San does the same. 
"Are you wearing black to the party?" Jiwoo holds out the shirt Wooyoung has in his hand.
"And if I am?"
"It's a summer party."
"Black goes with everything?" Jiwoo gives him a look that he reciprocates. "You know, now that you're here Y/N, maybe we can shop for our outfits together."
"Sure, okay—" You respond softly, about to step closer to him when Jiwoo holds your hand and tugs you back.
"I'm shopping with her."
"I have better taste than you."
"I think not." She looks down at the shirt again before looking back up at her brother. "Anyway, we'll be off to find our dresses." She links her arm with yours as you quietly continue to shift your attention between Jiwoo and her brother. "Byeeeee!" She swings you around and drags you towards the dresses in the back corner of the store. Hongjoong lingers around the boys for a little longer, shopping for new shirts himself. The boys talk about their upcoming plans before the summer party, also throwing in some guesses about how the summer party is going to turn out.
Meanwhile, when you and Jiwoo head to the dresses, your eyes automatically land on a strapless corset midi dress— it has a simple black and gold abstract print on it, the fabric mainly mesh. It'll be a little tighter than you'd like, the side slit a little higher than you'd like, but you thought it'd go with the vibe best. There are a few other dresses that caught your eye, and Jiwoo encouraged you to try them on in order to decide which one worked best. 
You could like the way one looks, but it could be completely different when you put it on.
But, your decision remains the same; the abstract dress fits you well, and you can't lie, you feel the sexiest in it. The corset bodice, along with the bodycon fit, provides enough support and shape to hug you in all the right places. Jiwoo squeals when she sees you in the dress, completely agreeing with your decision [she would've any other way]. She jokes that her brother better keep his hands to himself with how good you look and all you can do is shyly shake your head with a tiny giggle before heading back into the room to slip it off.
"Did you find your dresses?" Hongjoong comes, eyeing the dress Jiwoo has in her hands.
"Mhm! Is my pain in the ass brother still here?" Hongjoong shakes his head.
"Him and San just left."
"Good. The dress Y/N has is to be kept a secret until the party. She's gonna look so good, I might have to tell Wooyoung to keep his hands to himself." You come out of the dressing room with the dress tucked closely to your chest, hanging the rest on the go-back rack.
"Hongjoong, please tell her she doesn't have to do all of that." You look at him and he chuckles. "Remember? You're the one who put your brother up to all of this just so I could go to the party. I'm quite positive it's just a favor and nothing else." You all walk towards the register to pay for your items. 
"Still, okay? You're gonna look amazing. I gotta give him a little warning and make sure he doesn't get super handsy with you." She shivers, making you playfully roll your eyes in response.
"Jiwoo, are you gonna help me with hair and makeup? Cause I literally won't know what to do that'll go well with this dress."
"Of course, bae! We'll make it pop, but keep it simple. Trust me on this." She squeezes your wrist just before handing her card over to the cashier. Once her and Hongjoong finish paying, you follow them down to the food court, ordering some friend chicken to munch on before sharing a huge bowl of bingsu with the two. You catch San and Wooyoung passing through the food court, now accompanied by two other girls. They don't look familiar, at least you don't think. In any case, it doesn't make you feel any better knowing Wooyoung simply agreed to go to the party with you as a favor to his sister.
The harsh reality settles that this meant nothing more, nothing less.
You were just a favor.
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The day of the party comes quicker than expected. Work had been so busy that the days had flown by, bringing you to your present:
Which is, Jiwoo helping you pop in some hazel colored contacts before doing your makeup and hair.
"Keep your eye open!"
"Ugh, I hate contacts. Jiwoo, you know I hate the feeling!" 
"I know, but I promise it'll be over quick! Just keep it open and don't blink. The more you resist, the longer it'll bother you!" You groan again, gaining the last bit of courage to keep your eye open for Jiwoo as she aligns the contact and gently places it in. "Close and blink for me?" She watches and claps. "Perfect, now do the same for the other eye."
"Jiwoo." You whine.
"I know you can't do it yourself!"
"I can go without them!"
"But, the colored contacts give you a pop and it's cute!"
"I'm literally crying." You point at the tear strolling down your cheek.
"Beauty is pain, my dear! Just for one night! Now, keep still—" She pauses, the both of you holding your breaths while she pops in the last contact into your left eye. You flinch the moment it settles, dabbing at the tears that stream down your cheeks.
"Never again. Wooyoung is literally not gonna care."
"Who said this is about Wooyoung? It's your first summer party, forget my brother. You're gonna be the hottest thing to walk that winery." You shake your head, letting Jiwoo dab some powder onto your cheeks. "You look good, girly! Look at you!" She shoves the mirror in your face. Jiwoo did some loose curls on your hair, and a very natural look for your makeup. Fake lashes, a shade of blush that pops on your cheeks, clear gloss, natural eyeshadow— just enough razzle dazzle, but nothing too extra, as Jiwoo says.
You don't really recognize yourself, though. But, in a good way. You like the change. You normally don't wear makeup, you don't do your hair. You like to think you're simple, maybe too simple, but you don't mind it one bit. That was you, and you've come to embrace it. The change, though? It was nice to see on you once in awhile.
"Thank you." You smile at her and she squeals before checking her phone.
"Okay, my brother should be here in a bit. We're gonna take off and meet you there?"
"Why are you going so early?! You're not gonna leave at the same time as me and Wooyoung?!"
"Nope. We gotta get parking and get first dibs on the wine." She snorts before flashing her phone, screen signaling a call from Hongjoong. "You'll be fine, okay? Granted, as long as Wooyoung doesn't fucking text and drive again but I'm sure he won't with you in the car." 
"Jiwoo!"
"I'll see you in a bit! I love you, mwah!" She says, grabbing her things and rushing out of your studio; heels click-clacking away on the pavement before she squeals even louder seeing her boyfriend. You shake your head, dabbing a bit more highlighter across your collarbone just like Jiwoo taught you.
Within the next 25 minutes or so, you munch on some apple slices you already had in the fridge, somewhat satisfying both your hunger and sweet tooth. Just as you're re-applying lip gloss, Wooyoung's call comes through on your phone, startling you and causing you to drop the wand onto the floor.
"Oh shoot." You grab the wand and blow it off, submerging it back into the tube. "Hello?"
"Yo— everything okay?" He laughs a bit hearing the rustling in the back. "I'm downstairs."
"Sorry, just dropped my lip gloss." You whine a bit away from the phone. "I'll be down in a second."
"Ah, hate when that happens. See you in a bit!" You hang up the call and spray on another spritz of perfume before grabbing your purse, shutting off your lights and closing up your studio. You slowly climb down the steps, Wooyoung probably questioning why you're taking each step 2 miles per hour and sideways. 
You make it down in one piece. Slowly, carefully.
You shyly slip into the passenger's seat, and you almost pause mid-way when you glance at Wooyoung in the driver's seat. As promised, he's in a simple black-on-black fit— a crisp black button up with the sleeves rolled up ever so slightly, black dress pants and black boots. His hair is tucked back in a ponytail with a few strands framing his face. The car smells like his cologne, and he's chewing away at some gum while waiting. You've seen Wooyoung formally dressed before for special occasions, but there hasn't been one time you found yourself ogling at him the way you are right now.
You've never seen him like this, or maybe you just never paid attention? You didn't really have a reason to until tonight. Well, you didn't really have a reason because he was your bestfriend's brother.
"Hi." He says, setting his phone down in the middle console. Thank god he didn't catch you staring at him the way you were. But now, he's doing the same and you're not sure why he's staring. Do you look weird? Is something on your face?
"Hi." He softly smiles, eyes still exploring your body from head to toe and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.  "What? Is it cause my eyes are kinda red?" You pout, immediately looking through the passenger mirror. "I swear I'm not like, high or anything. Jiwoo helped me put the contacts in earlier—"
"She, what?" He chuckles before shaking his head. "No, nothing. I just— you look beautiful, Y/N. Was taking it in, that's all." 
"O-oh." You tuck a strand behind your ear before settling back into your seat. "Thank you, Wooyoung."
"Of course. You ready?" He glances at your seatbelt and you give him a nod to drive off. "Alright, lehgo." He says, shifting the gear and turning up his music a bit. The familiar voices of Blaque comes through on the speakers, Wooyoung softly singing along to JC Chasez's part in Bring It All To Me. You knew Wooyoung could sing, but it still blows your mind every time you hear his voice. He has one hand gripping tightly onto the wheel, the other resting on the gear. "Do you know if my sister and Hongjoong left already?"
"Yeah, they did about 30 minutes ago."
"She's deadass gonna be the first person there." 
"She said she wanted dibs on parking and the wine."
"Gonna be the first person there and drunk. Free entertainment." You chuckle. "Your dress." He points at your dress before shifting his attention back to the road. "It's pretty. It looks good on you." You smile.
"I picked it."
"I figured. You've always had better taste than Jiwoo."
"Stop." You chuckle. "She did my hair and makeup."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." He nods in approval, bottom lip poking out. He really does think you look incredibly pretty— he's always thought you were cute, beautiful. But tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you and that'll be bad news for him as the evening continues. First and foremost though, his goal is to keep you comfortable and happy tonight. His goal is to make sure you have fun, and that's what he'll do with your pretty little self.
"Okay, I'll give her that. But, that stays between us." You snort. 
"Sure, Woo." He chuckles.
"Warm enough? Music too loud?"
"No, it's all fine. I'm good. Promise."
"Okay, cause we still have about another 30 minutes to go before we get to the winery."
"I'm fine." You reassure him with the prettiest smile before returning your attention outside the window.
"So, does Yeosang know you're going?"
"No."
"Mm, okay. Definitely not prepared for him to beat my ass tonight. I did wear my good socks though, so.. he can try it if he wants." He shrugs.
"He's not like that." You respond softly with a giggle. "Besides, it's my fault. I withheld it from him intentionally."
"Well, what's the deal? If you don't mind me asking." You sigh. "My sister said it'd be weird for you two to go to the party together so I'm suspecting it's a one-sided thing."
"I just.. don't see him that way."
"Why don't you just tell him?"
"I don't know. I'm not really good at these things. I don't know how to say it and I don't wanna hurt his feelings."
"You'll hurt him more by letting it slide like this, you know?" Wooyoung shrugs. "It's okay if you don't feel the same. No one can ever force you to feel a certain way and he'll understand that. But, it'll make it easier on everyone if you're just honest from the get."
"Mmyeah."
"I promise. It'll be tough to get it out, but he'll appreciate it."
"I know, I know."
"In the meantime, are we avoiding him tonight? Lemme know the plan." You shrug.
"If he comes up to me, I'll just explain. Then.. go from there. Wherever that is." You pout a bit.
"Hm." Wooyoung hums when he sees the worried look on your face. "Don't worry about it too much, okay? We'll have fun tonight."
"I feel bad that you're here."
"Ouch, why? Don't want me here?"
"It's not that. You were basically forced to be here so Jiwoo wouldn't get on you for her car."
"Eh, well. Her car is fixed. She can't always force me into things. Besides, it's free entrance to a winery with unlimited wine. Why would I say no to that?" You chuckle.
"You say that now."
"We'll enjoy it together, yeah?" He looks at you and you meet his eyes, nodding quietly in agreement. You hope you'll be able to enjoy with Wooyoung, but as of right now, you're a bit anxious and scared for what the night will bring.
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When Wooyoung pulls up into the main lot of the winery, the parking attendant signals for him to follow the rest of the cars into the extended lot. He jokes under his breath that maybe, he should've followed his sister's lead with this one and left earlier. But, it doesn't last long when he's able to snag a spot right by the back entrance near the winery's lawn area— aka, where the party would mostly take place.
"Alright. If we ever need to dine and dash, just say the word. We'll leave." He says, hopping out of the car while you laugh to yourself. He swings your door open and holds out his hand for you to take, shutting it close after he's gotten you out of the car. He looks at you up and down once again, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks— this time, at a new intensity. "Yeeeesh, I gotta say, you look fine, 'lil mama." He smirks. Cause yes, that dress falls along your curves, your body, so beautifully. That dress pushes up your tits so nicely. 
And that dress hugs the curves of your ass so, so perfectly.
"Wooyoung." You whine a bit before playfully [and very softly] punching his bicep.
"Ah—" He laughs, holding out his arm for you to take. "I'm just being honest as your date." 
"You're making me shy."
"Am I?" He looks down at you with another shit-eating smirk. "What else can I do in the next few hours?" You squeeze his bicep as you enter through the back door, greeting familiar faces. To your surprise [or not], Wooyoung immediately introduces himself as your date and Jiwoo's brother, causing your colleagues and everyone around you to hype you both up as a good-looking couple. You don't even know how to respond besides a 'thank you,' letting Wooyoung take on most of the work with his 'yeah, i know we do's' or 'i know, she's just a little shy about it though's.'
"Shoulda left 30 minutes earlier." Jiwoo says, pulling you into a hug before Hongjoong follows suit. "The baddie herself has finally arrived!"
"Shoulda left on time 30 minutes later." Wooyoung retorts, still properly hugging his sister and greeting Hongjoong. 
"Time to catch up!" Jiwoo raises her glass and taps it. "The wine is pretty good, can't complain."
"Coming from the person who likes Svedka Vodka." 
"Hey! It's cheap and does the job quick!"
"That's why my bar closed a long time ago for you." Wooyoung winces before turning to you. "Wanna go find the right wine for you to sip on?"
"Charcuterie board was just replenished, too!" Jiwoo yells, just as she watches her brother hold your hand and lead you into the winery. "It's so weird to see him doing all that with her."
"Well, he is her date." Hongjoong says with a laugh, sipping on his wine while he holds her by the waist. "He's taking good care of her. Let 'em enjoy it tonight, hm? Just like we will." He hums as she giggles, placing a kiss on her temple before whisking her away to the other finger foods that were just set out. 
As you approach the table with endless different wine bottles set on the surface, you keep yourself close to Wooyoung especially with how packed the room has gotten. Wooyoung sets himself in between a red wine, a white wine and a bottle filled with some sort of pink-ish liquid, his hands grabbing two wine glasses and setting them down on the edge of the table.
"There's so much wine."
"Yup. It's nice that you don't have to pay for a dime. These things get costly."
"Which one is good?"
"Hm, let me check. I've heard of this winery but I've never tasted their wine before." He says as you continue to keep close behind him, looking over his shoulder. He picks up the bottle of red wine and takes it to his nose. "This smells hella bitter." Wooyoung says, smelling the red wine. "You probably won't like this one." He sets it back down and picks up the bottle of white wine. "Chardonnay might not be too bad." He pours a bit in his glass and hands it to you. "Taste it." You take the white wine into your mouth and make a face. "No?"
"Kinda bitter still."
"That's okay." He laughs and points to the pink bottle. "That might be good! Can never go wrong with Rosé. Wanna try it?"
"Can you taste it first?" Wooyoung nods, pouring himself some rosé— enough for a little sip. He nods in approval, shifting his attention back to you.
"It's good! You'll like it. I'll pour you a bit again and you can let me know if you want more or not." You nod. He hands you the glass, watching intently as you take a sip and nod in approval.
"Oh, this is good!"
"Yeah? Glad you like it." He pours some more in your glass, a little more heavy-handed than you like but you'll go along with it for tonight.
"What're you gonna drink?"
"I'm just gonna take some of this Cabernet and babysit it for the night." He reaches over to grab another bottle of red wine a couple of buckets away. He pours himself about half a glass before he's sipping it and humming in approval himself. "Yeah, that's pretty good." He sets his glass out, giving you the opportunity to taste his wine of choice. You take a little sip, shaking your head after giving him his glass back.
"Yeah, no." He laughs.
"It's okay. Red wine is tough to work with. At least we found you some good rosé, though. You gotta take those drinks for the both of us."
"Just one glass will do."
"Mm, a couple sounds better, though." He teases, lacing his hand back with yours as you both walk towards Jiwoo and Hongjoong, sharing a table with your other coworker and.. Yeosang.
"Y/N?" Yeosang looks up at you in confusion, and it almost breaks your heart the way he looks at you. You catch his eyes dart from you to your hand that's currently intertwined with Wooyoung's. "Wooyoung."
"What's up." Is all Wooyoung says as he looks at him over the edge of his glass, taking another sip.
"It's nice to see you—" Yeosang pauses and looks at you; you can't help but give him a pursed smile in return. "Together?"
"Mmyeah—"
"I see you went with the rosé! Nice choice!" Jiwoo cuts in, giving you a look to go along with it. "It's good, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is. We tried the others, wasn't a fan of them."
"They can get kinda strong." She says, downing the rest of the Chardonnay in her glass. "Welp, it's a good thing we have refills right at the table! Seems like we're gonna need it." She pours herself more Chardonnay before pouring you a bit more rosé.
"Jiwoo! I haven't even finished the first glass yet!"
"It was getting warm, you needed the refill." She smirks. You squint your eyes at her before briefly scanning the table, Yeosang now occupied with your coworker. He doesn't seem to want to make eye contact with you any time soon, and that particular unsettling feeling hits you in the gut. You're scared you've already ruined your friendship for pulling this stunt, for not being honest in the first place. You're scared you might've lost your other bestfriend because you were too busy hiding.
"Good?" Wooyoung leans forward to look at you, his soft eyes trailing over your features. He can already sense the shift in your mood and he doesn't want you to start overthinking and getting in your head, especially tonight.
"I think so." 
"You sure? Got my good socks on." He points down to his boots. You smile at his reminder and it instantly eases him. 
"I'm sure." He nods, slipping his arm behind you to rest on the back of your chair. Luckily, the CEO kicks off the dinner portion of the evening. He starts off his speech that lasts about a good minute, thanking everyone for their hardwork and dedication this point in the year. Once finished, he calls on a table to begin lining up for dinner. You, Wooyoung, Jiwoo, Hongjoong, Yeosang and your other coworker patiently fall in line for the buffet-style catering. Wooyoung makes sure to slip in behind you, creating a barrier between you and Yeosang even if there's no obvious hostility. It does help knowing he's creating some distance and you appreciate him for it. You fill your plate with a good scoop of food before settling back down in your seat.
The table enjoys dinner; thankfully, everyone is in good spirits and is cracking jokes despite the awkward moment that fell between you and Yeosang earlier. Even if he was upset, he'd never show you [or anyone] how he was truly feeling, and that could very well become an issue, too.
When it's time for the dance portion, Jiwoo fills your glass along with hers. Even though you had eaten a good amount of food, the alcohol was quick to seep back into your system and loosen you up. But, even with the liquid courage, you couldn't help but still feel shy around her brother.
He just looked so good tonight, you were afraid of looking like a damn fool in front of him. 
In your favor, all Wooyoung cares about is making sure you have a good time. He can see how much you're trying to hold back, even when Jiwoo drunkly throws her arm around you and starts vibing to the music. At some point, the crowd splits you and Wooyoung from Hongjoong and Jiwoo, leaving you to your date to enjoy you all to himself. The DJ starts spinning familiar songs from the 90s, bringing a huge smile on Wooyoung's face.
"Come here." He says, pulling you closer to him as you dance around with him. "It's just me. Don't worry about anything or anyone else." He gives you a reassuring look, his hands loosely laced with yours. You start to feel more comfortable with his reassurance, singing and dancing along with Wooyoung. You find yourself laughing and playfully teasing Wooyoung when he shows off his dance moves and pulls you along into his shenanigans. Your worries seem to be a distant thought at this point, no longer being concerned about every little thing, every little detail.
You're having tons of fun with Wooyoung. You're no longer trying to control what can't be controlled, letting the night take care of the rest on its own.
In between, Jiwoo ends up finding you in the crowd, shoving more rosé your way to get you at a good drunk. And sure as hell, the trick works. Wooyoung finds himself smiling in pure adoration over you, letting you lazily wrap your arms around his neck while singing along to the songs and keeping you close—
Until there's a shift in the air and you feel the liquid courage finally kicking in the way it should.
Wooyoung takes your hand and turns you around, a hand resting on your hip as you dance against him. You don't even care that you've backed yourself up against him and are dancing on him the way you are, thoroughly enjoying how he grips your hips and pulls you flush against him.
It's a little much for someone like you, but you find that it gets you going. Almost has your brain going on overdrive, fixating on the fact that Wooyoung has you like this— wants you like this.
You continue to dance against him, loving the way he holds you and keeps up with your rhythm perfectly. It goes on for a few more songs, Wooyoung shifting to the side to get a good look and hype you up. He's had his fair share of dancing with women at clubs, but he can say hands down, he has never had as much fun as he did tonight. You didn't dance like you were out to prove yourself or something to anyone, to forcefully catch his attention or be someone you're not for all the wrong reasons— you just danced to have fun with him, trusted him to take care of you and help you loosen up. It was all genuine fun and good vibes; he's at the point of wishing the night would never end just so he could stay right here with you.
There is literally no care in the world; just you and Wooyoung, enjoying each other's company at this summer party you didn't even wanna go to. In the end, you're glad you ended up here with Wooyoung because it truly was one of the best nights you've had in such a long time.
"Woo." You turn, tired from all the dancing you've been doing with your handsome date. 
"Yeah, babygirl?"
"I gotta pee." He snorts.
"You should definitely break the seal if you wanna start sobering up."
"I should, huh?" He laughs and nods. 
"I'll wait out here for you, okay?"
"Mmkay." You part from him and it almost aches you to leave him for a second to relieve yourself. The need to pee becomes urgent, your feet rushing you along to the bathroom for a release. Good thing there isn't a line, and that the bathrooms are practically empty— you can sigh away in peace before washing your hands and freshening up a bit. You're excited to get back to Wooyoung, and it shows with the way you giddily pace out of the bathroom and down the hall—
Only to be stopped in the process by none other than your other bestfriend, Kang Yeosang.
You turn and find him there, a small smile plastered on his lips. Your heart immediately drops seeing him, and the guilt comes rushing back. You can't help but frown a bit, pursing your lips together before responding properly.
"Yeo, hi." You look at him with doe-eyes and he isn't sure if he should be more upset over the situation or sad. Maybe sad, because it's clear where you stand with him. And it sucks, but what is he to do? If you're happier elsewhere, who is he to prevent you from having that happiness?
"Hey you." He says softly. "I've barely seen you all night."
"Yeah, just been on the dance floor. My feet kinda hurt now that I think about it." He chuckles a bit.
"Sounds like you're having a good time."
"Um, yeah. Yeah." You repeat. "It's been good. Hope you're having a good night?"
"Can't complain, I guess?" There's a pause before you break the silence.
"Yeo, I'm sorry. It all happened last minute, I really wasn't trying to go but Jiwoo asked her brother and—"
"It's okay, seriously. It's fine. You don't have to explain." He says waving it off, probably trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal when yeah, maybe it isn't. But, you know he's still hurt. You know he still feels a hint of betrayal by the way this all went down— for saying no, for turning down the party, for not telling him you were all of a sudden gonna be here with Jiwoo's brother. For brushing his feelings under the rug.
"Is it?" You ask, still pretty drunk. If this were any other circumstance, you'd probably run away and hide. 
"Uh, yeah, it will be." Yeosang shrugs, unsure of what to say because he is sad about it, now that he truly thinks about it and lets the situation settle in his head.
"I'm sorry." Is all you say as a small frown builds on your lips. Just as you're about to turn to get back to Wooyoung, Yeosang catches your wrist and gently tugs you back. You look up at him, eyes full of curiosity as to why he's holding you back. You're scared for what's to come next, but you give him the opportunity to tell you whatever it is anyway.
"Maybe we can talk about this over dinner? Just me and you?" And as much as you should stand your ground and say no, you can't help but feel like you owe it to him. Maybe this would be it— the doorway to being honest, to telling him the truth. Maybe you two could have a good, friendly dinner and get past this without ruining what's already there; as friends. 
As for Wooyoung, he sees the whole thing with Yeosang. He can't help but watch, either. His eyes were scanning the crowd tough, a little too eager to have you back in his arms on the dance floor. When he finally caught your figure, your dress, standing in the main hall talking to Yeosang, he felt his heart drop. He's not sure what's going on, can't really make sense of what's being exchanged between the two of you. Yeosang still hasn't let go of your wrist, but Wooyoung catches you nodding before he does. Whatever it was, he's hoping you aren't hurt or anything along those lines.
"Hi." You smile toothlessly at him and he has the sudden urge to cup your cheeks, to pull you into his arms and hold onto you. At least you're smiling at him, that's all he could ask for.
"Hey." He smiles back. "I almost thought the toilet swallowed you." You laugh and shake your head.
"What if it did?"
"Then I'd have to go in there and save you, right? Who would I be if I didn't?" He holds out his hand as the next song plays, a little bit of that Jon B. with his They Don't Know. "Mm, I really like this song. Can we head back to the dance floor? I mean, if you don't wanna it's fine but please don't make me slow dance by myself." You giggle, taking his hand and letting him lead you back to the dance floor. He gently wraps his arms around you while you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands firmly keeping you pressed close to him. 
"Wooyoung."
"Mhm?" He maintains eye contact with you as you sway to the song, following along to the beat. 
"Thank you. For tonight. I've had a lot of fun."
"I'm glad. That's all I wanted." He smirks. "Assuming I'll get a free ride to next year's party, too?" You laugh.
"We'll see."
"No seriously though, I'm glad you had fun."
"I did. I really did." You tilt your head ever so slightly and the lighting from the string lights, the moon, hits you perfectly in this angle that Wooyoung feels his heart skip. The highlighter on your collarbone provides an extra layer of glow to everything about you and he honestly doesn't know how to act right now. You feel his hand gently rub at your lower back, his eyes moving from your nose, down to your lips. You catch his Adam's apple bob in an attempt to swallow this sudden nervousness down.
And you could be wrong, you don't really know what's going on in his head and vice versa. But, the moment his face starts edging towards yours, you can't help but follow his motions. In a sudden turn of events, you find yourself wanting, even needing to kiss him; you really hope to—
"If I didn't know any better, it actually looks like you two like each other a lot annnnd iono about all that." Jiwoo says, carrying the rosé bottle in her hand while Hongjoong tries to tug her away. Wooyoung rolls his eyes and tries to move you two away in tiny steps, fighting the annoyance within him when his sister [of course] butted in at a very pivotal moment. Cause yeah, he would've kissed you, and he would've genuinely enjoyed it. He wanted this, too. "Babe, I got the bottle. Open up—"
"Baby." Hongjoong says. "Stop, put it down. Let's go! Leave them alone!"
"Jiwoo, the hell. Are you trying to poison her?! She's good." Wooyoung says lowly with his brows furrowed, subtly brushing his sister off.
"Ew, fun police!" She looks at both Wooyoung and Hongjoong.
"Can you like, get yourself together? What's fun about drowning my date in rosé?"
"All of a sudden he cares." She snorts.
"Baby—sorry, sorry." Hongjoong has a sympathetic expression on his face while looking at you two. "I got this." Hongjoong whisks her away and grabs the bottle, successfully placing it down on another table before bringing her to get water.
"Jiwoo." You laugh, resting your head against Wooyoung's cheek, his grip on you only tightening as you softly sway back and forth to the music.
"Literally couldn't have been the worst time." 
"It's okay. Hongjoong's got her now."
"Sorry." He says, placing a gentle, feathery kiss to your cheek. "Just know that was not how I wanted that to play out." He rubs at your sides as you giggle, continuing to slow dance with Wooyoung under the starlit sky.
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When the event officially concludes, the CEO and leadership team come back to the stage to thank everyone for the successful event, wishing everyone safe travels back home. Jiwoo runs to you and hugs you, asking if you had fun tonight. You tell her that you did and that you owe it to her and her brother for all of it. She laughs, happy everything turned out well and that her brother took good care of you.
"Take care of her." Jiwoo glares at Wooyoung while Hongjoong chuckles to the side and shakes his head.
"Okay, go."
"I mean it."
"I do, too!"
"Babe, text me when this big head brings you home. I might not answer though cause I'll be at Joong's but still—" You nod, completely ignoring what she's insinuating.
"Ew, no one fucking asked Jiwoo. Just go." Wooyoung mumbles under his breath, giving her a look. Your eyes widen when you feel Wooyoung slip his hand into yours and grip it tightly, leading you through the crowd of people building around the back of the winery saying their goodbye's. You both head into the car with ease, giving Wooyoung the opportunity to catch a minute before driving off.
"Hm, how do you feel right now?" Wooyoung spreads in his seat, scrolling through his phone.
"I'm fine."
"Not too tired?"
"Not really."
"Still kinda tipsy?"
"Still kinda tipsy." You reaffirm and he chuckles.
"Wanna get some food and hang out somewhere? No pressure. Can take you home if that's what you prefer."
"Um, yeah sure! Let's go."
"Yeah?" He smiles and buckles up, shifting the gear to drive. "Sick. I know just the place to get you some good snacks."
Said place ends up being a convenience store nearby that has the best egg sandwiches, spicy tuna onigiri, and Wooyoung's favorite grab n' go corndogs.
You enjoy the experience nonetheless. Wooyoung parks his car right at the front of the store, helping you hop out of the car before slipping his hand in yours. It almost feels way too natural for two people who were merely attending a party together as acquaintances, [per Choi San] but Wooyoung likes the way your hand feels in his. The way it fits perfectly, and how you seem to put all your trust in him this way. He shuffles towards the back and tosses a few things into the basket you're holding with your other arm, giggling when he debates between a regular corndog or a flaming hot cheeto corndog.
"I don't want my ass to be on fire though, so." He says out loud in the very empty convenience store.
"Wooyoung!" You whisper, more embarrassed on his behalf than himself. 
"I'm just saying Y/N, sometimes that shit is outta my control. I don't want it to be one of those nights." You laugh as he looks into the basket. "Is that all you want? A corndog?"
"Mhm. I'm still pretty full."
"Okay then." He takes the items to the register and quickly pays for it, giving you zero chance to slide in some cash. He smirks when he grabs the bag and heads back to the car, letting you know that he'd never let you pay anyway.
The drive to Wooyoung's endpoint is about 20 minutes away from the store, and up a dark hill. If it had been any other situation, it would've looked incredibly scary and suspicious. But since it's Wooyoung, you trust him wholeheartedly to bring you somewhere you'd enjoy.
"It gets better, okay. I know what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking?" You squeak.
"You're probably wondering why my punkass is taking you up a dark hill. I promise the view up there is worth it. You trust me, yeah?"
"I do. Don't disappoint me, Jung Wooyoung."
"Nah, never that." He takes you further up the curvy road, finally pulling into a small lot off to the side. There aren't any other cars parked besides Wooyoung's, so it makes it easy for him to back into the spot. He leaves enough space to pop open the trunk freely, allowing you two to sit and enjoy the sideview of the city. "Careful." He says, bringing you to the trunk and making sure you're seated comfortably before grabbing the snacks. He plops into the space next to you and hands you your corndog, the both of you indulging in your snacks in pure silence.
"There's a path down there. You get a better view of the city." He covers his mouth while chewing on his corndog.
"Hm." You hum, looking up at the sky. "The stars are so bright tonight."
"I know, I don't remember the last time I've seen so many stars." Wooyoung points to the right. "Look! There's the big dipper." You chomp on your corndog as you look up to where he's pointing at.
"No, it's not?"
"Y/N. Please. That's the big dipper."
"I'm looking! I don't see it." He scoots closer and points again. At this point, Wooyoung is only inches away from your face. If you were to turn at the wrong time, you'd land a kiss on his lips unintentionally. 
"There!" He says. Lo and behold, Wooyoung's right. You finally see the shape of the big dipper up ahead, even if you're slightly distracted with Wooyoung's face being in such close proximity again. 
"Okay, you're right. I see it, I'll give that to you." You respond with a tiny smile.
"Haven't seen one in a long time." He smiles proudly before digging into his other snacks and powering through them. Wooyoung doesn't even move away from you after showing you the big dipper, but you aren't complaining. You've come to learn that you enjoy having him near, close. "You're done eating?" You nod, tossing your trash into the bag.
"Mhm." You hum contently. "Wooyoung." He looks at you with a brow cocked up, shoving the last bit of the onigiri in his mouth. He shouldn't like the way you say his name so softly, so delicately, but he does. Especially after tonight, he really, really does.
"Yeah?"
"I wanna walk down the path and look at the view." You stand and start walking towards the path, where it'll take you to a beautiful view of the city.
"Wait, hold up!" He says, grabbing his jacket and locking up his car. "Why does she walk so fast? Miss Quicksilver." He mumbles to himself. When he catches up to you, you feel him drape his jacket over your shoulders before coming to your side. "It's getting kinda chilly out." You look up at him with a small smile on your face, hugging the jacket closely around your frame.
"Thank you."
"Course." He holds out his hand. "It's dark, let me lead the way? You've got your pretty heels on and everything. You sure you wanna do this?"
"Yeah, please?" Wooyoung almost buckles at the knees when he hears you plead the way you do, instantly locking hands while he walks in front to lead the way. You stay close to him, especially when the path has lower visibility than you expected. He tightens the grip on your hand, carefully navigating around the bushes along the way. When he finally reaches the end and brings you to the view, you take a few steps forward toward the edge of the overlook. There's a small board off to the side that outlines the history of the city ahead and when the overlook was created. You let go of Wooyoung's hand completely to rest on the edge, taking in the city lights. The crisp night air. The sound of the stream nearby. You rest your elbows on the stone, chin resting on the palms of your hands. Wooyoung smiles to himself as he admires you from behind, coming right by your side to enjoy the view. "It's so pretty."
"Yeah, it is."
"The crickets are loud. Kinda soothing to listen to, though."
"Louder than Jiwoo, that's for sure." You laugh, continuing to look at the view. 
"How'd you know about this spot, Woo? Do you take girls here on dates?"
"God, no. I just come here to chill when I need to get my mind together. I don't really share this spot with anyone." He rests his chin on your head and you don't budge, appreciating the extra body heat from behind.
"You shared it with me."
"That's cause I genuinely wanted to take you here. I know you'd appreciate it."
"Can I start coming here, too?" You look up at him with a smile.
"Only if you let me tag along." Wooyoung teases. "I am heavily equipped with the exact location details and everything."
"Mmkay, fair enough." You let out a content sigh. "I wonder what everyone's doing in the city. What their stories are like and what's happening in their lives right now. Do you ever think about stuff like that?"
"I do."
"It's crazy to think about, isn't it? Being in one place at the same time with all these people, filled with millions of different stories."
"It is." You look at the view with a small pout and Wooyoung feels his knees getting weaker over that damn pout. "Anyway." You turn to look at Wooyoung, who is very much still staring down at you in adoration. "What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" 
"What, can I not? You're just really cute, shit, sue me." You roll your eyes playfully before a yawn comes out, and Wooyoung frowns a bit.
"Yikes." You say just as you shake off the yawn.
"Tired?"
"Mm, it's hitting me now."
"The post-drunk crash." He sighs, cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes. "Come on, let's get you home." 
"What if—" You cover another yawn again. "I don't wanna?" He drops his hands back down before grabbing your hand, slowly trailing back to the car.
"Then babygirl, I dunno. I definitely do not recommend sleeping out here, though." He jokes. He could technically take you back home and do all the things he would normally do if this were any other circumstance, any other person. He could have you right where he wants you and have you stay the night.
But, he won't. 
He won't do that to you because that's not what you are to him. You aren't just a body, and you aren't a temporary thing. On top of that, he probably should sort through his feelings, his emotions because he's not sure what the fuck he's been feeling all night; he just knows it's kinda different and kinda alarming for someone like him. 
Feels serious, too vulnerable.
"Yeah, I agree." You say sleepily, clinging onto Wooyoung's arm as you walk back to the car.
The ride home is quiet, and exhaustion almost completely consumes your body that you barely realize Wooyoung's thumb gently caressing the surface of your hand. You shouldn't get used to the feeling so much, knowing this is might all be for show especially over a summer party. It hurts to think about, but it's not like Wooyoung willingly wanted to be here. Maybe a small part of him did, but at the end of the day, this was purely a favor for his sister. You didn't think he'd catch feelings over one night, no. It wasn't in his nature to. You didn't expect that whatsoever, either. But, you also couldn't help but feel things after the way he treated you tonight. After the way he took care of you so, so well. 
Was it wrong to feel infatuated? Was it wrong to feel happy, giddy, after the time you shared? Being in close proximity all evening, sharing little subtle affectionate moments together?
The voice in your head tells you yes, and that you should know better than to think it'd last past this night. 
You are you, and Wooyoung is Wooyoung. 
"Y/N?" Wooyoung softly taps your thigh. You turn to face him, recognizing the awfully familiar neighborhood behind him. You had been deep in your thoughts, along with the mix of exhaustion, that you didn't know you've already made it home. "Thought you fell asleep. We're here."
"Already?" You give him a tiny, soft smile that he reciprocates before running to your side and helping you out of the car.
"You don't have to walk me."
"Y/N, please. Don't start spitting out nonsense." He says, unbuckling his seatbelt and running over to your door. He tucks a hand into his pocket while waiting for you to step out, shutting it gently behind you. He walks you up the steps to your studio, silently trailing behind even as you fiddle with your keys to open your door. Once you get it open, you turn to him with that angelic smile he's mesmerized by, causing him to smile in return.
"Hope you had a good time tonight."
"I did. I really, really did. Thank you for.. you know? Accompanying me and what not. Everything, really."
"It was fun." He pulls you into a hug, squeezing you gently. When he pulls away, he keeps an arm wrapped around your neck, planting a kiss on your temple. It lights a fire within you, the heat rising to your cheeks when he pulls back and looks down at you. "Get some sleep, okay?"
"You too. Drive safely." You feel the need to reciprocate the kiss somehow, and it doesn't help that Wooyoung lingers around for a second— mainly to make sure you make it inside your studio. With all your thoughts, you still find yourself reasoning with the giddiness you're feeling. You find the courage to tippy-toe and place a chaste kiss on his cheek, rushing into your studio with a soft: "Goodnight!" before shutting the door. Wooyoung silently laughs to himself as he digs his hands into his pocket, nibbling on his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big at the action.
But, his heart is damn near beating out of his chest, another thing that feels pretty unfamiliar but familiar at the same time. The only thing he knows for certain is that it probably can't be good for him—
To feel this way. Forcing himself to walk away from your studio after spending a good evening together. To want to call you even though he's just in his car downstairs. To keep you company until the next morning.
After all, you were starting to feel more than just a favor to him.
Those feelings can't be good for him.
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anki-of-beleriand · 4 months
Text
A heart Made of Glass ch.12
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Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.
Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.
Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.
Okay, this chapter had some tricks in it that are surronding Reader and Wanda, this is their story and this time around Reader would need to make the right decision if she wants to get what she wants and what she needs.
Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue
Chapter 12
In a different world
The universe started with a spark of bright golden light.
Loki Odinson had seen it several times, he had witnessed the birth and death of multiple universes and timelines that were destined to perish in a myriad of colours that would soon be forgotten. He had sat on the throne, and while he was not a King himself, he could recall the faces of all of those poor souls that disappeared into the nothingness, just as he could remember the beauty behind the first spark of life.
However, what he was experimenting right now was nothing like it.
Whatever, or whoever had decided to intervene had messed up with his own spell and everything had exploded into nothingness. A single spark of red, green and golden then, nothingness. Black spaces that disappeared without any traces left behind.
Loki started at the empty space that was Wanda and Y/N’s basement before he sighed. He sat down shaking his head, a headache approaching just as he thought on the oncoming conversation he would need to sustain with the Avengers.
“Fuck.” The word rolled out of his lips in such a natural way, he could do nothing but leaned back against the wall.
What the hell just happened?
What did he do?
What did Wanda and Y/N do to get this reaction?
The silence soon became deafening, Loki located the book Strange had died trying to recover. He frowned while leaning over to pick it up, the spell was done correctly with all the right wording as well as the right drawings on the ground. So, why did it go wrong? His eyes scanned the pages, re-reading the passages over and over until his heart dropped at one particular line, something he had overlooked the very first time he read that passage.
“…this, however, may be counterproductive if there is a magical or multiversal energy interference, the amount of energy converging at one point may created an unexpected result and…”
Loki knew the rest by heart, he knew there could be troubles but…well, how many energies were involved in the spell? He had counted on those signatures coming from Wanda and Y/N, he had even counted on his but…was there anybody else out there? Was there anybody else at the other side of the multiverse?
“Shit.” Loki stood up fixing up his clothes before flickering his hand to open a portal. He needed to face the consequences of his acts, and the first stop would be the Avengers Tower and Steve Roger’s office.
The former Captain America was going to enjoy telling Loki ‘I told you so’, just before hitting him in the face.
With one last glance to the basement, Loki turned around and left the place.
He never worried to test the energy fields around, or to tap into the timelines flickering in front of his eyes. It never occurred to him that, as soon as the explosion happened, a new singular timeline appeared right before his eyes just to blend itself with the other timelines flickering in front of Loki.
No one but the Watcher could see it, The Watcher stood in the sidelines furrowing his brows and waiting.
The world would either collapse in itself, or it would fix the anomalies by itself.
Either way, he was watching history, and the future of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.
_________________________________________
Darkness had always been your friend.
You were born in it, and it had been your weapon and your refugee in the hardest of times. That was the main reason you didn’t panic at first, everything around you was filled with the purest form of darkness with a single touch of coldness that sneaked inside your clothes. The hairs on your arms stood up, a shiver went right through your muscles making you groan as you finally experience the pain in your body.
Your mouth opened inhaling deeply filling your lungs with gusts of cold air, your chest contracting itself just before you started coughing. It was then you opened your eyes, and the darkness that you had experienced moments ago was nothing but you woke up from unconsciousness.
The first thing you noticed were different white dots in the sky winking back at you. You tried to grasp a single thought, seeking around your mind for a coherent idea but it was almost impossible to do so when the rest of your body was finally receiving different stimulus in the way of pain and coldness.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice called to your left, you tried to sit up but a single hand placed itself on your shoulder pressing you to the ground.
“Ease there, pal, you were really hurt back there.”
Even if you didn’t get a chance to sit up, your world started spinning around. The voice was so familiar, yet so different to what you were used to; with some reluctance you turned your face to the right and soon you found yourself looking at yourself.
The other woman offered a tentative smile, though the way she was squinting her eyes and the pursed of her lips told you she was just as confused as you were at the moment. Soft footsteps approached you, America Chavez was wearing a single cut on her cheek and a bruised eye, this time around you didn’t let you counterpart to stop you, you sat up to check over the teen kneeling beside you.
“America, are you alright?” Your eyes rolled back for a moment, your knees fell harshly on the ground while you held yourself with a single hand placed on your leg.
“Y/N, please…” America winced lightly glancing at you then at your counterpart. “I think you were the one that suffered the most…”
“It was my fault, actually. So, sorry?”
You blinked a couple of times, shaking your head made the headache worse and the dizziness settled on your lower abdomen. You lifted your face blinking a couple of times before checking America over, the young woman softened her features with her cheeks colouring pink while her lips tried to offer a single smile. You tried to ignore the other Y/N for as long as you could before turning around to settle your eyes on her.
Just like America, she was wearing a single cut on her forehead with her clothes dishevelled but otherwise nothing else. With some reluctance you lifted your eyes looking deep into those eyes that you knew so well.
“This is the weirdest shit I have ever had to live to date.” You finally said shaking your head, “I hope it is the last weird shit ever.”
“Agreed.” Y/N tilted her head furrowing her brows while giving you a quick glance. “Before this happened, I’m afraid I was in your body fighting with someone that got lucky…so…”
“So, that’s why I feel like this?” You cracked smile, your counterpart nodded mirroring the smile on your face. “Okay, got it, so…what the hell is going on?”
America and Y/N glanced at one another then at you, it wasn’t until then that you decided to take a good look at the surrounding area. The place in itself was nothing strange, yet you got a feeling that this was not your universe or even that of your counterpart.
The sky was completely dark filled stars but as you got to observe them above your head you realized there were not your stars. The constellations you had come to know thanks to Natasha and Carol had been changed and were replaced by different forms you did not recognize. With a single frown you lowered your eyes to find yourself in a plain of land filled with dried grass that extended beyond what the eyes could see. It was an empty land, with nothing beyond the darkness of the night without any moon it was hard to actually see something that could give you an idea of your location.
The sound of whistling called your attention, and soon you found yourself being wrapped tightly by two pair of arms. Before you could protest or ask what they were doing, you experience the sharp bite of wind, A cold, merciless breeze that soon turned into a whirlwind that left as suddenly as it had come.
“Wh-what the hell?” Your eyes opened wide, your teeth chattering while America and Y/N leaned back wincing.
“We need to move.”
You furrowed your brows shaking your head, “move where? I can barely see you two, how are we going to see the path or…where the hell are we?”
America sighed standing up, she stretched her hand to you offering a tender smile.
“You haven’t figured it out?”
You stood on weakened legs, your mouth opened ready to protest until you finally realised it. While it was true there was nothing much to see beyond the darkness and the starry night, you could see America and your counterpart just fine. It took you but a few minutes until, you lifted your hand and the shadows followed you giving you a good glance of what was around you.
“We can manipulate shadows, the night in itself is darkness and filled with the main source of our power.” Y/N stated matter-of-factly while standing before you, you nodded curtly feeling foolish for not even thinking about it.
“Are you guys going to tell me what’s going on?”
America grabbed your hand, then turning to Y/N she shrugged also grabbing her hand as well.
“We may as well update her while we continue walking.”
“We saw lights coming from what we think was a village a few kilometres away, were trying to get there until these weird whirlwinds came in and we couldn’t carry you anymore.” Y/N explained shrugging. “We’re guessing once we get to some sort of place filled with civilization we will know more…”
“Why didn’t you try to travel through the shadows?” You asked ready to do so when the warning tone from your own voice stopped you.
“I couldn’t do it without leaving America here, and I have a bad feeling as soon as I tried it…so…” Y/N shrugged looking ahead of her, “I always follow my instincts, they have never failed me.”
The comment sent a sharp pain straight to your heart.
Your instincts had never failed you either.
Nothing else was said after this, the three of you were following the direction America had pointed out but you were just lost not really knowing if this was the right path or just a wild guess. The temperature was dropping even more, soon your teeth were chattering alongside those of America and the other you. You felt a sharp pain through your head, whatever had happened before you woke up had left your body quite bruised and right now all you wanted was to find a bed, an analgesic and something to eat. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought came forward in the form of Wanda, panic rose through your chest and filled your mind but before you could ask anything about her your counterpart spoke.
“I still don’t understand how everything came to be,” she spoke with a tone of voice you were familiar with, you let your eyes wandered around the landscape holding onto every word resounding into the darkness of the night.”
“I remembered when Wanda and I saved America the first time, and then trying to safe her from these creatures chasing her down.” Y/N trailed off with her memories making her falter, with a single shake of her head she continued, “I know I was out for a while, so you can guess how surprised I was to wake up in the arms of someone that wasn’t my wife…”
“Not really.” Your reply was filled with coldness, tension building up in your body, “I have always had the luxury of waking up alone in my bed.”
America winced lifting her head to glance at you, her dark eyes begging you to listen before jumping in whatever discussion you wanted to start.
“Agatha Harkness.” The name reached the inside of your mind with the memory of the file you read on her, not only that, but also the different videos you saw surrounding her story inside of Wanda’s world.
“That was the woman you woke up to every day, Y/N.” America chimed in shyly, she lowered her gaze squeezing your hand tenderly. “She had been dragging Scarlet and Wanda around, draining them of their powers and leaving them defenceless for quite some time, and since…well, since Y/N was under her spell…”
You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to say something but finding your counterpart’s eyes on you whatever argument you had built inside your mind came crumbling down and soon you were given their side of their story.  Little by little the story started making sense, the building of a different world and the intrusive dreams you were having in the last couple of weeks, the purple and red magic surrounding you on that day as well as the mixed-up realities that ended up with you thrown into another’s body. You had always known that Wanda was special, and powerful, you never imagined just how much.
America had been a part of the plan, of course. Her powers would be very beneficial to someone like Agatha, and your powers would make sure no one would ever find her. Everything was about the most basic reason of all: Power. You pursed your lips disgusted; you were dragged into a confrontation with Wanda because there was a woman chasing after power. You had been running from Wanda for more than ten years, and all it took was this woman to ruin everything.
And now, now you were walking down the darkness of the night with a girl that could travel through different universes and your counterpart, a woman that got the life you had dreamt of a long time ago.
“Life is not fair.” Y/N stated glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but it is what we have, and we must…”
“…deal with it, take what it is being offered and try to be happy with it.” You finished shaking your head.
“Ah, so not everything is lost, I see.” Y/N allowed a single smile to break on her face, you pursed your lips snorting.
“You don’t know the story.”
“But she does, that’s why she told you those very same words, didn’t she?” Your counterpart stopped all of a sudden, you let out a heavy sigh before turning to face her.
America was standing in between the both of you, her brows knitted together with her gaze travelling around the terrain before settling on the both of you.
“Look, I know that you and Wanda had a different experience than mine, I’m glad you did because…” You trailed off holding onto your emotions, “I don’t wish on you the pain I went through…”
For the very first time ever you saw your own face breaking into a broken-hearted smile, with those eyes losing all light and those lips curving into a crooked smile. It was you looking back, and you understood right there and then that you weren’t the only one.
“You forgive her?” You asked with a hint of hope in your voice, you hated how the question left your lips and how your counterpart understood what you meant.
“How could I not if my heart beats for her?” She replied clenching her eyes closed, her hands rested upon your shoulders before you found yourself looking into your eyes. “There is a difference, though, isn’t it?”
“You guys were not together…” You started but she merely tilted her head.
“You know it wouldn’t matter if we were a couple or not, she chose someone else when we have always chosen her.” Y/N squeezed your shoulders lightly. “The difference is that I gave her a chance because I want to do so, you didn’t because…”
“I don’t believe in second chances! If I have done so she would have broken my heart all over again when she went into her imaginary world with Vision!” You exclaimed enraged, surprising Y/N and America.
The other woman furrowed her brows, she was ready to argue back with you and asked questions about the imaginary world. It was quite evident a lot of things had happened in this strange world and Y/N could only imagine the pain and rage engulfing your heart at the moment.
America could see darkness surrounding the three of you her eyes opening wide almost losing into the shadows until her eyes caught glimpses of red and purple right ahead.
“Guys?” America stuttered lifting her hand and pointing to the distance.
You two stopped your discussion turning around to see the same sparkles of red and purple. It was a formation of dusty colouring breaking into the darkness of the night sky, you turned to the left to see Y/N frowning with determination and America shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
“It’s not that far away, I mean it could be at least one kilometre?” Y/N faced you holding onto the previous tension of your conversation with her, you clenched your fist shrugging.
“Looks that way.”
“Are we…” America started but you lifted a hand to silence her.
“Before we jump in to do something I think we need more information, we don’t even know what we are going to find over there.” You looked out of the corner of your eyes; the lights were still gleaming pretty much intensely but you could tell your two companions didn’t want to stay still and do any planning.
“What do you propose?” Y/N asked lifting her chin, “you know pretty well those sparks of crimson are Wanda’s, and we know this woman, this Agatha has been using purple magic. Are you really suggesting we stand here or keep walking in circles?”
“No! All I am asking is to first think about what we are going to do! We’re not even sure where we are much less what we are going to find there.” You asked back lifting your hands in the air and stepping back, the pain you had forgotten in favour of the discussion came back making you winced.
“Look I know you guys think the world of Wanda, and that’s cool, I guess your Wanda,” this time around you pointed to your counterpart trying to remain calm, “she is all love and kindness and that’s fine. The Wanda in world had a total breakdown that enslaved a bunch of people in a reality she created for herself and that microwave she called husband, so forgive me if I’m not going to jump in without any additional information.”
Your tirade echoed through the night, your voice carried by the wind with a dropped in the temperature. The moon that had been travelling with the three of you flickered all of a sudden, and the darkness grew around the three of you. America didn’t miss the flickering lights of crimson and purple, but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing your hand in hers, the warm she shared with you made you shivered and with some reluctance you lower you stare to her. Even in such a darkness you could see her brown eyes gleaming with emotions.
“You still love her.” America mumbled squeezing your hand tenderly.
You clenched your jaw tilting your head to the side, America bit her lower lip glancing from you to Y/N.
“I don’t know why this has to be so complicated, but she needs you.” America took a deep breath stepping closer to you. “Wanda is sad, and I know she messed up and that forgiveness should not be given just because you feel that way. But she really needs you, she and Scarlet.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened between the both of you.” Y/N stepped in making sure you could not look away from your own eyes. “But the woman I love is out there, being it in this dimension or another Wanda Maximoff would always be MY Wanda and I won’t leave her out there to get hurt. If not for you, then at least do it for me.”
It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness and coldness that your heart finally gave in. With a nod, your dropped your shoulders in defeat missing the smile coming from America but never missing the satisfied glance coming from your counterpart. The three of you finally turned to the source of the magic, and without a simple plan you three started making your way to the source.
You were not prepared for what was waiting for you over there.
Agatha Harkness smirked at the woman kneeling before her.
In less than a year she had made it possible to crumble away the legend of the Scarlet Witch while placing herself as the most powerful witch in the multiverse. Her smile never faltered, not even when the world spined around changing into a familiar setting; a place and time Agatha had suffered before but that now she could alter with a single flicker of her hand.
The place was filled with passersby ignoring the presence of the two women; nobody seemed to care that one of them was on her knees with a single neck shackle made of light red and blue tied to a crimson necklace Agatha wore on her chest.
“What do you think about this arrangement, dear?” The dark-haired woman asked, her eyes dropping to the kneeling Wanda who was shooting her a stare filled with anger. “Personally, I think this could be more lively, but don't worry soon enough we will have a show to die for.”
Her laughter was accompanied by a flash of violet, and soon the scene changed and they were transferred to a great marketplace located at the centre of the village. Everyone had reunited around four pillared pyres that were guarded by at least ten knights all dressed in black.
Wanda lifted her face, her ears twitched hearing the sound of angry screams cursing someone she couldn't make out yet. Agatha stirred in excitement; her smile grew until it was a crooked grin with just a hint of madness behind it.
“Here they come…”
The crowd spread around just as four figures came in walking on naked feet wearing red robes and bruised faces. The hatred and fear coming from the crowd was quite evident as the torches and the pitchforks drew wild patterns above the townspeople’s heads. The light of the torches ignited the night, Wanda tensed under the grip of the woman standing beside her, the hairs on her arms raising up while her eyes narrowed to follow the events unfolding in front of her.
The four women were pushed forward, each one of them had a single knight standing behind them with heavy hands they were dragged to the four pillars tied to them facing the crowd. It didn’t take her too long to guess what was about to happen, and what exactly were those pillars; the pyres had been set up to ensure everyone could see the women died. The crowd cheered cruelly, laughing and cursing while the four women glared at the people with more bravery than they actually felt. 
“This was my coven.” Agatha spat out, her hands sparkling with a mixture of red and purple, “they saw my power, they read my intentions and instead of supporting me they dared to try and stop me…”
“I wonder why.” Wanda couldn’t hold the sarcasm behind her voice, Agatha pulled harshly on the ropes holding her neck making Wanda fall on her back.
“You really are more daring than your counterparts, dear. I would be careful, if I were to be honest I don’t need you alive.” 
Agatha caressed the necklace smirking at Wanda, the woman couldn’t hide her anger and the magic that was pulsating inside her was not enough to protect her from Agatha’s anger. Soon Wanda let out a scream of pain, her body twitching painfully until he couldn’t keep her eyes open and all she could think about was the searing pain on her limbs.
“It has been so long since I was just a lowly witch like them, afraid of fire and the angry crowd. I grew to be magnificent, to have power beyond anyone’s imagination…” Agatha continued with his rambling observing with gleaming eyes as the Major of the town stood forward proclaiming the sins of the four women.
“I just had to find you, Wanda, you and that so-called Scarlet Witch.” Wanda took a deep breath, half hearing the woman while watching with horror as the night above her head flickered from one setting to another.
“It was not easy, you know?”
Agatha flickered her hand to the right and soon Wanda was on her knees watching as the world around her changed. It was like watching a movie in a dome. The world changed to day and night flickering images of Agatha dragging her burnt body through the ground whispering spells that only she could hear. The image soon changed showing the passing of time, Agatha looking around the world and stealing the magic of others while seeking something out of desperation.
She finally found it after more than a century.
Wanda opened her eyes at the familiar setting, Kamar Taj stood under stormy winds and heavy snow. Agatha sneaked around, distracting the inhabitants of the temple by provoking landslides that would certainly have killed innocent people if it hadn’t been by the protectors of the temple. She had enough time to steal a single book.
“Y-you…you stole the..th-e…the Drakhold.” Wanda leaned forward resting her hands on the ground, she was shocked to find the snow under her hands was real and that everything she was seeing was not an illusion but a real event.
Her mind was trying to comprehend what was really happening. Her knowledge of the Darkhold had not been as broad as it had been for Strange and even Loki. But she did know one thing or two about the origins of her powers, Chaos Magic had been called and it gave her the power to bend reality and life in ways not many could access to. The darkness inside her had been contained by her family and her loved ones, but the same could not be said by others, apparently.
“I did.” Agatha finally answered tilting her head, soon the scene changed and they were taken to a place Wanda was familiar with.
Westview.
“Yet, I was still not strong enough, or the only one with powers beyond our imaginations.” Agatha made a face, stepping forward strolling down the streets with Wanda following her. “When the Avengers showed up it was quite evident that people with powers could no longer be hidden. It was my time to shine until you, my dear Wanda, showed up.”
Wanda saw herself in a building in Sokovia, it was a place she was familiar with yet the story that was unfolding in front of her had nothing to do with what she had lived once. Her other self struggled to control her powers, to live her life, to be who she was supposed to be but failed every single time. Agatha had never been too far from those events, and whenever Wanda failed, Agatha would clutch the young woman closer to her. The red and purple magic intertwined without anyone noticing.
“What did you do?” Wanda asked, finding herself in the middle of the square in Westview. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining right above their heads and not a single cloud in sight. 
Agatha smirked, her eyes changing colours to one of deep crimson, “I finally became who I am supposed to be, and soon my dear I will have all the power to bend the universes at my will. And now, I will finish what I started all those months ago with your pathetic counterpart and you will help me out with this.”
The world suddenly exploded around them, Wanda clenched her jaw closed, lifting her eyes to the sky to see the runes above her head.
“You…” She gritted her teeth, her eyes closing right away trying to gather her thoughts and power to stop the woman standing beside her.
Agatha chuckled darkly, her gripped on Wanda tightened allowing the influx of memories to invade the mind of the redhead. It was a life she was no familiar with, a suffering she had not experiment in the same way but that generate in her an understanding of the mess this world was in. She could see the moment Agatha entered the story, the failures and the almost victories until finally she got what she wanted.
A weakened Wanda Maximoff without anyone in the world to stand by her side.
Power.
And a way to get away with her plan.
“You…you won’t win.” Wanda finally got out; her eyes gleaming dangerously at the other woman who made a face rolling her eyes.
“I already did, dear. You just haven’t realized it yet.” Agatha let go of Wanda stepping away.
The brunette straightened up lifting her arms in front of her, her hands creating a purple mist while the necklace she wore zealously around her neck gleamed with intensity. Those eyes that moment’s ago had been brown, were now a deep black and the world around Wanda trembled under the electric shift of power the witch was gathering around her.
“Now, I have all the pieces in place, in my world…under my rules.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, “I will bend everyone to my will…and you, Wanda, will be nothing but a bad memory.”
The sky above their heads changed into darkness, the temperature dropped and Wanda felt the heavy weight of the atmosphere overwhelming her. She could sense her counterpart weakening inside the prison Agatha had chosen for her, her thoughts were still a mixture of memories she couldn’t quite place while the heavy emotions running through her soul threaten to overwhelm. Wanda could read the intentions behind the woman standing before her, she could read the hatred and violence behind those dark eyes. Lifting her chin to the sky, and her eyes showing off her own magic she decided if this was going to be her end, she would face it with defiance.
The ball of energy flickered in Agatha’s hand, the world stood still and the with smirked ready to give the final blow.
Agatha was so concentrated in her final goal, she never noticed she was no longer alone and what she though was illusions of her own invention were actually three people she didn’t think would be a problem until one of them stood right in front of her shielding Wanda from an imminent dead.
You had crossed the protective barrier around the strange town with a single thought in mind. Your intention was to get this over with and go back to your life on Norway, your heart beating fast while your mind protest for the easiness in which you were trying to go back to a life in which you were ignoring the woman that had never left your heart. It looked easy, just do your thing and then fixed whatever mess you were in and then…go back.
But the universe and the Powers That Be decided that it wouldn’t be just as easy as a flickered of your hand.
As soon as the three of you crossed the barrier you were face to face with flashes of memories that presented you with a film of the lives of Wanda and Agatha. The stories of the coven and the search for power, as well as the fall of Sokovia and Wanda’s struggles with her powers and her life.
“This is so wrong.” Y/N stated clenching her fist while stepping forward until she was finally standing beside you, the both of you stood on an empty street hearing the sounds of muffled conversation.
“Any plan?” You finally stated ignoring the piercing pain in your heart, your counterpart shrugged nodding to the darkened street that was flashing a mixture of red and purple.
“I think the best approach is a straightforward one.”
“Humph, so go there and just start fighting?” You replied with your lips breaking into a single smirk.
“Yep, pretty much.”
“That doesn’t sound like a solid plan.” America mumbled unsure, she furrowed her brows turning to you and then to your counterpart.
You turned to America placing a hand on her shoulder, “but it is what we have. You are going to stay here and wait.”
“But…I can fight! I can help!” America stepped back frowning, “I won’t be left behind…”
“I know you can fight, kiddo.” You replied tilting your head, “and that’s why you are staying behind.”
America opened her mouth to protest but Y/N came forth shaking her head.
“You are our backup, America. If anything were to happen to us and Wanda…” Y/N stated dropping her gaze for a moment, she turned to you until finally she locked eyes with America. “You need to do anything you can to ensure Agatha won’t scape, you understand?”
America pursed her lips, a part of her understood the mission but another part wanted to go straight ahead and face the woman that had been chasing her through the multiverse. America clenched her fists before nodding curtly and stepping back. You offered a single smile, your hand squeezing comfortingly the shoulder of the teen.
“There would be time, America, for now just watch our backs.”
“I will.”
“Good then, let’s go.”
You nodded curtly allowing your powers to spread in front of you, there was resistance when trying to reach the shadows and for the very first time you understood what your counterpart meant about your instinct. Everything in your body was screaming danger as soon as you came into contact with the shadows, your body shivered under the piercing weight of a million needles. You clenched your jaw closed stepping into the shadows with a single thought in mind.
Wanda.
Without any hesitation and moving through the invisible obstacles in that universe you appeared right before Wanda and Agatha just in time. Your eyes went black with your right arm lifting in front of you and creating a protective barrier just as Agatha’s hand came into contact with your shadows.
There was a flickering of power, the older woman snarled a curse lifting her left arm in the same fashion and launching a second attack. Your eyes opened slightly only for your shadows to slithered away grabbing the woman’s midsection to pull her away.
The world crumbled for an instant; Agatha was completely shocked to see not only you but your counterpart standing right in front of her. The woman straightened up, sweat rolling down her forehead while her right hand closed around her necklace and her other hand summoned the Darkhold.
“You really are a pain in my behind, but at least I won’t have to go around looking for you.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, her annoyance giving way to a confident smile. “Now, how about the two of you are good girls and give up, I would hate to spend my time submitting you to get what I want.”
You spread your feet positioning yourself in a fighting pose, your eyes narrowing slightly while the woman in front of you got her magic ready. But before Agatha could do anything at all, another set of shadows grabbed her arms putting them back making her woman lose her grip on the necklace and the Darkhold, your body tensed when Wanda stood up behind you, her voice quivering slightly as she pronounced your name with reverence and love.
“Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about me, Agatha dear.” Your counterpart said winking at Wanda while flickering her hands away, Agatha grunted freeing herself with a blast of energy and stepping a few feet away.
“Hn, I didn’t expect this.” She stated summoning the Darkhold, the world around the four of you changed, shaping itself in a familiar setting you had come to hate in your mind.
Westview.
Agatha never wavered in her confidence, if anything it seemed to grow the same way her magic was doing at the moment. You took a fighting stance, your shadows flickering around waiting for your command. You glanced out of the corner of your eye, Wanda had been trying to stand up but her knees and feet seemed uncooperative. Before you could offer any help, your counterpart came in wrapping her arms around Wanda while placing her forehead against Wanda’s one.
“Hey, love.”
“Hi.” Wanda replied with easiness, Y/N sighed in relief before placing a single kiss on her wife’s cheek.
“I miss you.” Y/N said softly, your heart shrank with emotion when your mind caught up with what was really happening.
You furrowed your brows, sweeping around the place until your darkened eyes fell on Agatha who was smiling playfully at you, her right hand playing absentmindedly with the necklace.
“Where is…Wanda?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda and Y/N both glanced at one another before they set their eyes on you.
A sinking feeling settled on your lower stomach, you were afraid of the answer when you realized this Wanda was trying to look everywhere but you. Tilting your head, you finally got a good look at your surroundings where the suburban houses filled out the imaginary world; the Wanda you had come to know from another universe held onto your counterpart tightly though right now her green eyes had been focusing straight ahead of you.
“Where is she? Wanda?” You asked again, this time around there was a demanding undertone that the other woman couldn’t ignore.
“Agatha has them under her control, she is using a powerful and dangerous book, Y/N.” Wanda could tell her answer was not of your liking, she stepped forward ready to join you and her wife in the fight glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes.
“You don’t know where she has Wanda?” You asked again never taking your eyes off of the older woman standing before you.
“I have my suspicions but I’m not sure how to interfere with that.” Wanda winced trying to ease out the pain on her neck, you frowned pursing your lips while taking a closer look at Agatha before your eyes found the same house you had come to know as Wanda’s place.
“Well, then let’s get this over with and get Wanda back.” Your arms stretched to the sides, the silent command spurred into action the shadows around you flying straight ahead to try and get Agatha.
Before your counterpart and the other Wanda could help you out, the creatures summoned by Agatha launched their first attack. A great explosion was heard while you evaded the flashing balls of power sent over by the witch.
The fight soon broke over, you didn’t notice it but the dome surrounding this part of the universe tremble sending waves of energy all through the world until they came into contact with the timeline and America. The young woman lifted her head, her eyes gleaming brightly as she tapped into her powers; bouncing on the balls of her feet she waited. America could hear the sound of explosions and the muffled sound of conversations and screams, she glanced at her hands thinking about the lessons she had been learning in the last couple of months. She closed her fists, opening them again before lifting her face. This people had been putting their lives on the line for her, they had been trying to protect her without expecting anything in exchanged. It was about time she helped them.
With a glance to the sky, America took a deep breath closing her eyes for a brief moment. As soon as she opened them, her lips curled into a single smile.
Time for payback.
The street had been completely destroyed during the fight.
There were no more homes standing up, or nice cosy gardens decorating the suburban setting. The world soon became a mixture of nothingness with the flickering holograms of reality that you could not touch. Agatha had learnt a thing or two since fighting with Wanda, you could see her ability to hold onto her powers while also making use of those she had stolen from your Wanda.
You shook your head hating the thoughts running around in your head, the overwhelming emotions that seemed to try and govern your decisions. You tried to focus your energy on what was right in front of you, the problem you were facing went beyond your own emotions. There would be a time for you to deal with them.
Agatha lifted her left hand above her head before letting it fall fast to her side, the sharp pain of your skin being pierce made you grunted. You could feel the wounds on your arms, your eyes igniting in a deep black that soon went right ahead to engulf the witch in front of you.
At some point, Agatha had become faster than your attacks, she stepped aside flickering her hands and soon two more creatures appeared out of nowhere.
“Is that all you got?” You asked almost losing your concentration when you heard the voice of your counterpart in the back.
“Get away from my wife!”
Agatha smirked grabbing her necklace, tilting her head she settled her eyes on you.
“Oh, dear, you would be surprised with the number of tricks I can bring on you.” Agatha stepped forward, her feet never touching the ground. “I could make your dreams come true; I can be what Wanda never was for you.”
You pressed your lips together taking into a fighting stance.
“You know nothing about my dreams, and I am certainly not looking for a replacement.”
Agatha snorted her hand gripping tightly on the necklace, soon a red mist grew from the space between her neck and chest and the world around her turned crimson. Agatha stretched out her arms and the whole world vibrate around you changing in the blink of an eye.
“Are you sure? I can tell by the pathetic way you are always looking at her, but the way you talk about her that there is nothing else you want more than her…” Agatha’s voice rose above the new scene, your eyes flickered around while your stomach dropped when you realized where she had taken you to.
For a brief moment you could make out the screams and grunts of the fight going on right outside this small world. You took a deep breath trying to get a hold of your powers ignoring the runes glowed above your head a clear sign that this was still being controlled by Agatha. You creased your brows knowing that your options were limited if the other woman decided to use her magic at its full potential. She was playing with you, leading you on and one until it was quite clear she was mocking you by placing you right in front of a memory that had broken your heart at some point.
It was playing in slow motion, the video and the room with everyone just as shocked as you were to see Wanda in the arm’s of another. The passing of time, every single moment that you had suffered the betrayal while facing your sadness alone in a world of pure darkness. Your fit closed, the shadows on your feet stirred violently sensing your anger when you heard Agatha laughing. Mocking you.
“How did it make you feel knowing she was happier with a man?” Agatha purred making sure to be as far away from you as she could. “How did it feel knowing you were never going to be chosen in this world? In this universe? I bet it pierce your soul knowing you were the one destined to be alone.”
“Shut up.”
“I can make it go away, I can help you out…say the words, and I will make sure you get what you want.”
Your knees gave under your weight, furrowing your brows you tried to close yourself to the mocking film playing around you trying to focus on the fight. Agatha chuckled tilting her head, this time around the runes above her head pulsated and the two creatures grew before your eyes attacking viciously at your counterpart and Wanda making sure that your conversation and fight with Agatha wouldn’t be interrupted. Agatha centred her eyes on you, her hand grabbing the necklace while the same video seemed to be on replay.
“She won’t be a problem for you anymore, and after I’m done with you…you won’t have to worry about the pain of your broken heart, dear.” The laughter sent shivers down your back, but it was everything you were waiting for.
Your lips curled into a smile, your right hand twirled clockwise and the shadows broke into waves catching up with the witch. Just as you had located her, ready to give her a lesson, the woman was ready to use the magic Wanda and Scarlet were giving to her to make sure the next stage of her plan could be completed.
It never happened, though.
Your attack never stopped reaching out to your objective, while Agatha tried to return the hit she was surprised by a sudden punch to her face. The punch glow white, and her body bounced back and forth until she lost the hold on the necklace, America Chavez didn’t stop there and your shadows went straight to hold onto the witch to bring her down.
Everything happened so fast, your eyes went from America to Agatha and finally to the object on the ground. The necklace bounced on the ground, and without thinking too much you went right ahead to grab it. The object was warm to the touch, you could tell by the vibrations that magic had been contained between the object and this magic could only belong to one person. You closed your hand around it, you could sense Scarlet deep inside your mind. It didn’t take you too long to recognize the woman that had been haunting your dreams as of late, right with her you could also sense Wanda trying to hide, trying to survive.
“NO!”
The scream coming from Agatha was everything you needed to drop the necklace and stomp on the piece of jewellery creating an explosion that blew you and everyone around you away.
“Humph…” Your mouth opened letting out a shaky breath, your body hurt all over while your eyes got use to the sparkling lights that appeared before them when your head hit the ground.
“Y/N!!” You tried to sit up, a pair of arms held onto you for a brief moment until you were capable of making out the figure sitting beside you.
America had her brows creased; her eyes shone with worry while she tried to hold you up. The fighting was still ringing inside your ears, your counterpart was finishing the last of the dimensional creatures while you could spot her Wanda holding back against Agatha. For a brief moment, panic rose inside you the sudden need to throw up became almost to much just as you leaned forward trying to stand up your eyes looking frantically for the women that had been haunting your dreams and reality as of late.
“They are unconscious…” America started but she could not finish her sentence as you stood up without any warning.
“Wanda…” Her name escaped your lips without meaning to, at that moment with your body exhausted and your mind already carrying the weight of so many memories and thoughts all you could do was staggered forward until you reached both women.
You stood on shaky legs glancing from Wanda to Scarlet, both of them unconscious wearing the same bags under their eyes and the bruises all over their faces and arms. You hesitated not really knowing where you should focus your attention until, as an afterthought you went to Wanda. Turning her to the side you ensure she was comfortable, her lip had a deep cut and her forehead had traces of a scratch that left her with blood and dirt. She looked thinner than you remember, with her face wearing still the same defeated expression she wore to your home all those months ago.
“Wanda.” You said her name again, this time around firmer and demanding, your hand trying to help her out until you heard her exclamation of pain. “Wanda, are you alright?”
The young woman stirred in your arms, her eyes flickering slightly until she opened her lips and let out an exclamation of pain. You put her back on the ground, turning around you could see Scarlet was stirring awake as well while the fight seemed to have no end.
“Y/N…” You turned to see Wanda’s eyes fluttering open, her green orbs looking back at you with sadness and tenderness that had your heart beating a tad bit faster.
“Hey, are you alright?” You leaned in but Wanda looked away helping herself up, you tired to assist her but your body froze for a moment unsure on how to proceed with the woman sitting before you.
“I…I am a little sore.” She replied, her eyes never leaving the form of Scarlet, Wanda furrowed her brows glancing at her hands then back at the other woman. “She…she is…Scarlet Witch.”
Her words trembled as she pronounced them, her face lowered thinking to herself knowing full well your attention was on her. She remembered the moment she had separated herself from the legend, the words of Agatha had haunted her at that moment when she realized there was something inside her giving her powers a deeper meaning. She had hated that idea, and the world that had been created out of it.
When Wanda finally dared to look up she found herself looking into your eyes. Her heart stirred with emotion, the words that wanted to pour out of her mouth entangled around her throat for she knew it was not the time for a heart-to-heart conversation. She wished everything had turned out different, but after her confrontation with Agatha and everything she had discovered whiled trapped in that reality she knew what she needed to do.
“Can you…help me up?” She asked shyly, you nodded curtly stretching your hands for her to take them.
She was cold under your touch, and a little sweaty.
Her cheeks coloured pink, and her eyes glanced everywhere but at you. You felt a piercing pain going through your chest, but you ignored it while helping the other woman up. For a brief moment, you thought she could walk on her on until Wanda’s legs trembled and almost gave up on her. You caught her just on time, her body pressing against yours making your traitorous heart stopped for a brief moment.
“How convenient, Wanda.” Scarlet was on her knees; she had sweat falling down her face breathing hard and glaring at the two of you though her eyes were completely focused on Wanda. “You…you don’t do nothing, yet you get to be with her.”
Wanda tensed in your arms, she took a deep breath while pushing you away taking one step at a time until she was standing before Scarlet. You lifted your eyes to see America just as focused on the two women as you were, the sound of the fighting was till rumbling in your ears but it was almost impossible to pay attention to something else that wasn’t the scene playing out in front of you.
Wanda held herself up, conscious of the hatred inside the eyes of Scarlet.
Inside her own eyes.
“We don’t get to be with her.” Wanda mumbled dropping her shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to make amends but I just…”
“You always failed, and you make it worse.” Scarlet spat out lifting her chin in defiance, her position on the ground was not an inconvenience. If anything, it gave her the power that Wanda couldn’t show at the moment.
“I tried to reach out to her, to make her world and mine…to…”
“I know.” Wanda offered a weakened smile, looking out of the corner of her eyes she could see you had your attention on the both of them. “I tried to do the same. I just…I can’t do it alone, and I’m tired of failing every time. I don’t…”
Wanda swallowed down her tears, she leaned in lifting her left hand until she was cupping Scarlet’s cheek. Red mist appeared in Wanda’s hand, and soon her eyes as much as those of Scarlet were shining brightly.
“It hurts so much.” Scarlet said letting the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just…
“I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be without her.” Wanda finally said her own tears falling down her face.
You clenched your jaw, looking away for a moment while your chest felt a myriad of butterflies fluttering inside.
“But I can’t keep fighting alone, or divided.” Wanda stated, she wiped away Scarlet’s tears before adding. “I think we need to be one, you saw just how powerful we are together and…”
“You need to fix this, or we would never…”
“I know, but this may not end the way you want it.”
Scarlet drifted her attention to you, her eyes found those of yours and in there you could read everything you had been so afraid to interpret the first time. There was pain and sadness, emotions that broke into her heart in ways you could only imagine, and then there was love. You looked away stepping back under the intensity of such a stare, you missed the broken smile on Scarlet’s face and the defeat she wore while facing Wanda again.
“I know, I think we will cope when the time for that comes.” Wanda nodded in understanding; her hands gleamed brighter than ever while Scarlet placed her hand on top of hers.
“I promised you I won’t give up.”
“Good, then let’s do this.”
The crimson mist grew around them glowing with a bright, red light making you trembled under the intensity of the magic. You could see America kneeling down, her eyes going wide open as they stare the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Wanda and Scarlet were no longer two different entities.
Standing before you was a single woman, her head was adorned with a red crown that made match with the bodice and the black leggings. Wanda stood there with magic coming from her hands, her eyes a deep shade of red that gathered the power you had always known she had in her. The woman stood still for a moment, she glanced at her body and her hands before her face lifted to stare at you.
You tried to hide your expression, your lips parting to speak but not words came out. Wanda hesitated before nodding her feet moving slowly until she turned around making her way to the fight.
“Is she gonna be okay?” America stood right beside you, squirting at the woman now using her magic to help her counterpart in the fight against Agatha.
“I think so…” You trailed off finally realizing that even though the both of them had finally become one, Wanda was still wearing the bruises and the exhaustion on her face.
“Are you okay?” America asked quite concern, you turned to her offering a half smile.
“I will be.” You sighed scratching the back of your neck. “Stay here and be careful.”
“What are you gonna do?” The teen asked slightly scare, you offered her a half smile turning towards the fight that was a tied between the Wandas and Agatha.
“What we came to do, just stay out of trouble and be ready to help us go back home, okay kiddo?”
America doubt there was anything she could do, but she didn’t contradict you. With a single nodded of her head she watched as you ran towards the fight, your shadows already creating a protective barrier around you and Wanda. Something, America though, you probably were not aware of.
_____________________________________________________________
Loki rolled his eyes once more, he was tired of hearing the fight going on in the meeting room while he stood by the window waiting for the right moment to intervene.
The world outside was highly active, Monday had always been one of the busiest days in the calendar and that day was not the exception. The young god leaned forward, his fingertips touching the window while his eyes observed the golden and green lights of the timelines. His eyes soon fell upon the one he did not recognise, a red line that he could not tamper with but that he was certain contained the answers to the questions everyone in the room were posing.
Loki turned around his eyes finding those of Billy who had not leave his side ever since Pietro brought him into the Avenger’s Tower. The young boy had his eyes narrowed, his hands playing with invisible threats only he could see.
For a brief moment, Loki stood there observing the child with growing curiosity. Billy was tapping the air with his fingertips, concentrated in something only visible to him. Loki frowned with his mind already forming an idea of what exactly was happening.
“Billy, what are you doing?” The question was low enough for the child to hear it but not for the rest of the room to notice it.
Billy lifted his face this time around his eyes went wide opened showing off the innocence of his age, but also the brightness he had inherited from both his mothers.
“Mommy always says to follow my instincts.” There was conviction in his tone, his hands tapping still as if waiting for something.
“And, what are they telling you?” Loki knelt to be on the same height of the child, Billy tilted his head creasing his brows before answering.
“Uncle Loki, momma and mommy need my help…look!”
Loki looked in the direction Billy was pointing to, he gasped with his eyes wide open and a smile forming on his lips.
“Billy you are a genius.” Billy offered a timid smile glancing at Loki shyly.
“Really?”
“Yes, and I think thanks to you we are going to be able to help Wanda and Y/N.” Loki could see the excitement in the little boy, he couldn’t help but smile back.
Without giving to much attention to the room, Loki sat right beside Billy closing his eyes before letting his magic to spread around. Billy was slightly confused at first, he had continued working on invisible threads trying to get into contact with them. Now there was something different, with his uncle sitting beside him Billy could sense the magic. He pressed his lips together before sitting down and, imitating Loki, he closed his eyes and just went with his instincts.
_____________________________________________________________
Whatever power she had tried to drain from Wanda and even Scarlet was no longer active to give her the stamina or even the strength to keep up with the fight. She was not even up to sustain the world she had created by tampering on the Chaos magic she could barely tolerate.
Wanda Maximoff gathered her power while circling the woman in front of her, she could feel the hurt she had created for her counterpart had reached out beyond the boundaries of the multiverse and it was something she would not tolerate. Beside her she could sense Y/N, a close shadow that was ready to jump in when necessary to offer protection and support; Wanda couldn’t help but smile.
“You won’t win.” Agatha tried to put up with a fight, she tried to hold onto the last threads of power inside her to get into the fight but she could no longer hold onto her powers for far too long.
You came from behind her your hands wrapping around her wrists while your shadows covered her feet spreading through her legs and body. Agatha was struggling, her eyes going wide open just as she started chanting in a language you did not recognize. Wanda opened her eyes wide, she stepped closer spreading her arms and chanting just the same, the runes trembling right above your head just before a myriad of images surrounded you breaking the darkness before going completely white.
“NO!” Agatha let out a guttural exclamation, her elbow hitting you square in the face but whatever strength she had in her to fight was haltered by your counterpart finishing what you started.
Wanda knew at that moment why she had been feared by Agatha, the power that was held inside her sent electric waves through her body. The power concentrated on her hand, and soon a single jewel showed on her palm while her counterpart continued with the ritual. The runes appeared right above her head, and without any indications, she started chanting as well.
You stepped back falling on your ass, blood rolling down your nose just as you saw the black figured being swallowed by the jewel. There was a moment of flickering lights and then, it stopped. Both Wanda’s stood right in front of the other, the jewel resting comfortably on the hand of Y/N’s wife.
The jewel took into a purplish colour, falling to the ground with a single thump.
The world went silent.
The darkness around you grew, with the stars twinkling right above your head.
Everything was still, with only your hard breathing breaking the tension around your ears. Your body was aching, your mind filled with memories of the past and the present all of them pilling up to overwhelmed you line of thoughts. You closed your eyes trying to forget and wait for everything to be back the way it was in the last year.
But you knew it was just an illusion.
Your world had been shaken up the moment Wanda and America showed up at your doorstep. The fight with Agatha brought back the memories you had tried to forget, it brought with it the truths you were not ready to face. You had always thought that you could outrun your motions, but the world has always taught you this was not possible. Not for someone like you, and certainly not for someone like Wanda.
When you opened your eyes you saw Wanda, your Wanda staring at you, but before anything could be done or said her eyes rolled back passing out of exhaustion. You caught up to her on time, her body falling on yours your face a mask of pure concern just as you ensure she rested comfortably on the ground.
You knew everyone was looking at you, but you decided to ignore them while checking Wanda over to make sure nothing else happened to her.
“Are you alright?” The other Wanda came to you, her voice sent shivers down your back, you didn’t dare to lift your eyes for fear of revealing far too much.
Instead, you nodded taking deep breaths while feeling the ground under your knees, without thinking too much about it, your hand brushed Wanda’s hair tenderly. The attention you were giving to her was something you never thought you would do again. The woman standing beside you shifted her weight and soon she was sitting right beside you; this time around you did turn around only to see her staring at you with big, curious eyes.
“She is still unconscious, but I believe she is no longer two halves of the same person.” Wanda lifted her face to the sky, her lips parting slightly. “Her magic is still erratic, but I believe she would be okay.”
“What about Agatha?” Your question entangled in your throat, scrunching up your nose you decided to conceal your emotions not ready to face the conversation or to address the white elephant hanging around you two.
“She will be trapped in this jewel until you and her decided what should be done with her.” Wanda handed over the jewel, you pursed your lips in disgust before grabbing the artifact.
“The book she had with her, it is the Darkhold, isn’t it?”
“It is.” You nodded this time around locking your eyes with hers.
“Are you taking it with you?”
Wanda broke into an easy smile shaking her head, “it’s not mine but yours. It would be better off in your world, where it belongs.”
“It should be destroyed.” You leaned back resting your hands on the ground.
“It should, but that would be your prerogative not ours.”
Your eyes drifted around the place before they settled on America and Y/N, both of them were engaged in a heavy discussion and you could teel this was the moment America had been waiting for a very long time. The feelings of guiltiness and sadness had been quite evident in her when you two met, right now this was the chance the young woman was waiting for to make amends. To reach for forgiveness.
“So, any idea how we are going to leave this place?”
Wanda nodded leaning back until she pointed to America and your counterpart.
“She is ready to use her powers, I believe she is the only one that can help us right now.”
Not sooner had Wanda said this the world started to tremble, the light of the stars flickered until they disappeared one by one. You straightened up with Wanda standing up as soon as she noticed this.
“I guess…we should try it right now.” You stood up turning to glance at the darkened world, everything was coming in and out of reality with the ground shaking for small periods of time.
“It was a matter of time.” Wanda placed a hand on your forearm, you couldn’t help the tension on your muscles the other woman softened her features stepping closer. “You will be back, and she will need help to recover from this.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready for that?” The question caught you off guard, you knew what was expected of you and what you could do with the woman that had broken your heart at some point.
You could hide behind that excuse until the end of time, but it would run out of any validity at some point. Sooner or later, you knew you would have to face Wanda and decisions must be made. The Wanda standing before you softened her features, her words would made your mind pound with the imminent decisions you would need to make.
“How deep is your anger, and how deep goes your love for you to not face what your heart already knows?” Wanda leaned in and you found yourself in a embrace you didn’t know you miss. Her voice was just a whisper, but it was everything you needed at the moment. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you my love to follow your instincts. They had never failed you.”
America glanced around the group with a nervous smile.
She glanced at her hands then back at you and Y/N, the words of encouragement were ringing inside her head while she tried to gather the courage to move onto the next step.
“Just think about it, kiddo.” Y/N stated grabbing the hand of her wife, America almost winced at those words because her mind had been a myriad of thoughts since they delegate the task of going back home on her.
You fixed the unconscious woman in your arms, putting her closer to you while looking over at America. The young woman closed her eyes, ready to open the portal when Wanda stopped her.
“Wait, America.” The redhead stepped closer placing her hand on America’s shoulder. “Remember, it is more than opening a portal, is about opening the right one.”
“I know, I know…it’s just…easier said than done.” America pursed her lips, she took a deep breath closing her eyes.
“Then, let yourself be guided by your emotions and what you remember of the place you want to go to.” Wanda squeezed the shoulder of the teen tenderly, and for that brief moment America felt it.
It was vague but it was there.
The same kind of energy she had felt on Wanda and Y/N, it was familiar yet different. She had felt it when she first fell upon that universe, the twins had carried with them a strange kind of energy that seemed to engulf the best of Wanda and Y/N.
America closed her eyes and, without thinking to much, she followed the familiarity of that energy. Her mind bringing over the memories of her time in that land, finally easing out her fears and trusting in the women she had surrounding her.
The young woman clenched her fist, and with a single punch she opened the star-shaped portal.
All of them were ready to go home.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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hidden-poet · 2 months
Text
Commander Snow: 10
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Commander Snow
Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.
Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault, child birth, Capitol bullies.
Editor: @hotline-to-hell
chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
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The bed you were asleep on felt like a cloud under you. 
The bedding was fresh, and smelt slightly of lavender scented washing powder. It held a  crispness that could only be given by drying in the sun. 
Pillows surrounded you, giving you a sense of security while heavy blankets nearly pinned you to the mattress from their weight. 
You slept easy despite your predicament. Only the morning sun, as it streamed through the airy curtains, woke you. Still, you don’t move. Too comfortable, and too tired to face the day. 
Coriolanus was not next to you. The large bed was only occupied by yourself. You wondered how long he had been missing, and how much longer he would stay away. 
You were in an entirely new world, only he was familiar. And even he had changed. He was President of Panem, not Commander of District 12. His hair was long, and his clothes were fashionable. He even held himself taller and talked slower. 
Still, he was what you knew. Your lifeline in an alien world. 
Would you change too? You supposed you had. 
A District girl, now wife of the President. Soon the weight of the diamond on your hand would become unrecognizable. You would get used to the strange people here. Tigris and Grandma’am would become family and not Capitol enemies. 
So quickly, your life was snatched from under you. Everything you have ever known has been replaced. Even the air felt different upon your skin. The people around you ate differently, talked differently, dressed differently. Would anything be left of you? Would you be able to keep anything of your home inside of you?
Your heart hurts to think of your mother and brother. Were you to trust Coriolanus when he said he had released them? He was likely to have had them 
released and then shot outside of the gates. How could you ensure their safety? Would he let you call them? What would it cost you?
The quiet turning of the door knob broke your train of thought. 
You wondered if it was a maid or Coriolanus but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look. 
You didn’t want to face either one so you closed your eyes hoping that they would leave you. 
Coriolanus did not. He gently shook your shoulder, and you rolled over from your fake sleep. 
“Good morning,” he pushes back your hair, tucking it behind your ear, “Did you sleep okay?”
You brush his hand away. Your ring scratches the skin of his hand as you do. 
“I have a doctor on standby. Are you in any pain?” 
You sit up and surprisingly find very little pain. More tightness from a muscle that had never been used before. You were quite wet already, and he was slow. Allowing you time to adjust. 
“I feel fine,” you respond, “What time is it?” 
“It’s early. I’m sorry. The sign-in is at noon, so you need to start getting dressed. Just like yesterday, some women are going to come in and help you.” 
“The same women?” You hoped not. They were so Capitol. You felt repulsed at the thought of sharing a room with them again. 
“I don’t know. Was there a problem with them yesterday?” His Commander's face was put on. A displeased stone expression that made you feel like a scolded child. 
“No.” You deny. Your eyes go to your ring that sprays out a pale rainbow from the sunlight. 
He pulls your attention back to him with a hold on your chin. 
“You’re my wife. First Lady of Panem.” 
Him calling you wife made your heart curdle. 
“You hold the power over them. If there’s an issue you need to tell me.”
“There was no issue,” you insist. 
He doesn’t push you on it.
“They will be here soon. Come outside for breakfast.”
He gives your arm a tap before rising from the bed to retrieve a warm dressing gown from the closet. 
It was soft around your body and brought a surprising amount of warmth. 
The journey to the dining room table was simple. Just past a long hallway, it opened into the living room, where to the right an elevated platform formed the dining area. 
The Snow women were not dressed as casually as you were. Fine dresses and jewels were worn for breakfast. 
You looked to Coriolanus to see he was also dressed fashionably and felt embarrassed that he had brought you out in last night's worn make-up and a dressing gown. 
The women seemed unbothered to see you. 
“Good morning, Y/N.” Tigris greeted you. 
“Good morning.” You offer back. 
Coriolanus holds out a chair for you amongst the 12 available. 
“Did you have a good time last night?” she asks. 
You looked at her and saw no vindictiveness in her eyes. It was a genuine question, offered to make you feel at ease. 
It was, in fact, the worst night of your life. But you were a stranger at her table, you would not repay her kindness with scorn. 
“Yes,” you say instead, “Did you?” 
Tigris nods her head, as she pours out coffee from a pot into the small white tea cups. 
“Bet you never saw anything like that in the Districts.” Grandma’am quipped. 
You weren’t sure if she intended for her comment to be a way of reminding you of your place, or as an encouragement to how great the Capitol could be. 
“No, I haven’t.” You agree. 
There was food displayed on the table, across a long white cover. Coriolanus picked food from and dropped it onto the gold plate in front of you. 
You had no appetite. It was all so ghastly rich. There was no need for this amount of excess. 
Coriolanus did not share your off-put. He ate his plate, while you examined the strange contents of yours. 
Grandma’am doted on her grandson. Telling stories of his younger years. He always had leadership skills, she said. His presidential future was never in any doubt. 
“Even when-” Grandma’am stopped herself, suddenly looking at and pushing her food around on the plate. 
You were eager to hear what she had to say. Even when he was sent to be a Peacekeeper? Even when he got involved with Lucy Gray? Was there something else that Coriolanus has kept hidden?
“If only your father could see you now,” she redirects, “Oh he would be so proud.” 
“We’re so proud,” Tigris states. Trying to defuse the somber mood. 
Coriolanus smiles at Tigris under her praise. 
“And you?” he asks, turning to you. 
You nod your head, unsure on what he wanted to hear. 
“Congratulations, President Snow.”  You offer. 
“It sounds right, doesn’t it?” Grandma’am squeals. 
You wait until the rest of the company has finished their breakfast between idle chatter. 
Coriolanus was on his second cup of coffee. His arm slung over the back of your chair, as he sits casually, talking to Tigris. 
He leans down to your ear, the second Tigris is occupied with Grandma’am.
“Can you eat something, please? The stylists will be here soon,” he whispers. 
 His casual demeanor returns as Tigris’s attention does. 
You follow his request, taking a bite of some sort of breakfast biscuit. It was fresh, and soft, even stone-cold. You could taste the butter in it. Real butter, not the imitation type found in the Districts. 
“I am going to miss you,” Tigris sighed. 
“We’re not staying here?” You turn to Coriolanus who had just taken another sip of his drink. 
Your stomach fills with knots thinking about a new place. You didn’t want to move. 
He swallows quickly, trying to answer you before anyone else. 
“No. We’re going to the presidential estate, but we’ll come back and visit. And you're both always welcomed at the Presidential Palace.” 
You jump as a ringing sound breaks through the air, looking around to try and see the small bell hidden in the room. 
Coriolanus’s hand comes from the back of your chair to the back of your neck. “It’s okay,” he soothes. 
He reaches for a panel of buttons built into the table and holds one in. 
“Yes?” He answers the call. 
“Mr. President, the PR team is here,” a voice spoke back. 
“Send them up.” His hand returns from you, back to the chair. 
“You don’t have long. Try to have another bite,” he commands. 
You finish the breakfast biscuit by the time the two Peacekeepers escort a whole team of people up to the penthouse. It sat heavy in your stomach. 
You see the same two women in the group. They stand side by side in ridiculous outfits. The one who had burnt you with a curling iron had a spiky, purple hat that reached tall into the sky. 
Two racks of clothing, and four big black boxes on wheels, were carted behind them. 
Coriolanus walks to the living room to greet them. They all congratulate him on his win, which he brushes off quickly to talk to the head stylist about the plan for today. They mutter between themselves, and the stylist shows Coriolanus a large book, pointing to the pictures. Coriolanus points down the hall, explaining the layout of the apartment. 
The book shuts with a heavy snap, and the stylist turns to his workers directing them to their places. 
The team split up behind Coriolanus, as he walked back over to you. 
“You’ll go back to the bedroom. I’ll use one of the spares. If there are any problems, you come and find me.” He tells you. 
You nod in response, noting that three other women follow the two women from yesterday down the hall. 
Coriolanus says goodbye to Grandma’am and Tigris, before leading you back to the bedroom where he lets you go without a word. As he closes the door behind you, the women in the room snap their attention to you. 
They all begin talking to you. Not one voice is heard but hands are felt all around you as they pull you into the bathroom. 
They bicker amongst themselves on what needs to be done first. You had many faults that needed to be fixed before the signing. Your skin wasn’t tight or dewy enough. You needed a facial, and eyelash lift. Your chipped nails were disgusting. Your hair was dull and lifeless. 
You feel vulnerable as hands dig harshly into your clothing, pulling it off your body. As you push hands away, more hands take their place. They call you difficult as you beg them to allow you to do it yourself. 
The shower is turned on too hot, you could feel the heat of it standing five feet away. 
Stripped, you notice the mess of semen still between your legs. Others notice it too and begin to giggle to themselves. Coriolanus had run a wet towel over you so you could sleep comfortably, but it wasn’t enough. 
The shower was boiling as you were pushed under it. Your skin instantly turned red. The women themselves didn’t want to get wet, standing outside of the shower screen, and pulling you by your hair to bring you closer. 
One lathers a strong-smelling liquid into your hair without much care, while another scrubs a hard brush against your skin to rid the old skin. 
It hurt as it raked across your body without soap. The woman's rings got caught in your hair as she scrubbed your head, it yanked as she pulled back. 
With a cry of pain, you are pushed back under the stream of hot water. 
You think about running to find Coriolanus, but they are here now. Another team would not be sent. He would only reprimand them, and then you would be left alone with their wrath. 
You sob instead. You should be at home. It was Wednesday. You were pretty sure. You should be at work, making idle chatter with your co-workers. 
“Wash it out!” The woman commands, “We don’t have much time.” 
Trying to appease her, you do a quick rinse under the water. 
“All of it,” she sighs. 
‘'The water’s too hot,’’ you cry. You felt like a cornered animal.
She looks at her co-workers annoyed. “Turn the water down,” she commands. 
The water is turned ice-cold but you make no further complaint. 
Another round of the strong-smelling liquid is harshly rubbed into your hair, and a nice-smelling lotion is rubbed into your skin. 
The cold water makes you shiver as you stand under it, trying to wash everything off you. 
The water is turned off leaving you standing shivering in the shower. 
“Come on” the women demanded, “hurry”. 
You go to her, and she throws a towel at you. It helps to dry the cold water off you, bringing back a little warmth. 
They watch you as you dry yourself making you feel self conscious. The attempt to cover yourself with the towel is ripped from you, and thrown to the floor. You are once again being pushed instead of asked to do something. 
You were laid flat on a table they had brought. Bare under their eye. Nothing was given so you could cover yourself. 
Five women stand above you and begin work. 
You close your eyes trying to dissociate from everything. A mask is put on your face, leaving space around your eyebrows so they can be waxed. Another oil is put on your hair and skin. 
You could hear the buzzing of the laser and feel its zap as it took the hair off your body. She scaled the length of you with the laser, paying extra attention to your most private parts. 
Only a reprimand was spoken to you as tears ran down your face. You were wasting the product with your tears. 
For a long time, you laid still against the table as they worked. Your body became sore and stiff before they told you to get up and into the bedroom.
It was there you were given back your dressing gown and placed in front of a vanity. 
The women talk amongst themselves as they work. Not one of them asks you anything. You tune them out, thinking about home. 
It felt overstimulating to have so many people working on you at once. Someone cut your hair, while the other women took one hand or one leg. They massage more oil into your skin, before shaping and painting your nails. Your ring is given a shine, and they speak about how beautiful it was. 
You feel their jealousy as they work. Your fingers were twisted into unnatural positions as they were filed. Your hair was pulled ruthlessly as it was cut. One woman stepped on your toes as she rose from the floor for some polish. 
In your head, you were at home, baking for your market stall. Your mother would keep you company in the kitchen, reading a letter from your brother. He had found someone. A nice girl, who treats him well. He wasn’t lonely anymore and had plenty to eat. Edmund was alive, and you would see him when he finished work. He would be joyed at the news that his best friend found a girl, and after dinner that night you would sit with him and draft a letter explaining your new relationship. 
It was a surprise when they all stopped to address the President. 
You turn to see Coriolanus standing in the doorway with a large mug in his hands. He had been taken from his clothes this morning and undressed into a white singlet. He had no shoes on his feet, and his dress pants still had pins in them from the tailoring. 
“It’s time for a break,” he announced. His hair appeared to be cut back, and slightly curled more. His skin glowed with treatment. 
You had never been thankful to see him until that moment. A tear slipped from your eye and you quickly wiped it away.
“Sir, we still have lots to do,” one of the stylists said. 
“Leave the room,” he commanded. 
Tools are dropped as they follow his request.
The five women pass him through the door, and he kicks it closed as the last one leaves. 
You get up from the vanities chair with a headache from all the pulling. 
“I came to check on you. Are you okay?” he says. 
The tea in his hands was a welcomed surprise. The hot shower had dehydrated you, and your crying left your throat scratchy. You take it from him and take three large gulps. 
He takes your waist into his hands once they are free from the cup. 
“Yeah,” you lie. Your voice was quiet and broken from having not spoken for a long period of time. 
The tea was hot, burning your throat as you drank it, but it was good. You broke away from his hold, going to sit on the ottoman by the bed. He followed you as you sat. 
Certain parts of your head felt like they were burning from the harsh treatment, You reached up to soothe the sore spots. Coriolanus’s hands follow yours. You knock them away, wanting nothing more than not to be touched. 
He moves onto the bed behind you, sitting with either leg by your sides. His strong fingers reach into your hair and massage your scalp. It felt nice as his fingers dug into your head so you allowed him to do it. 
You lean back into him, the hot cup burning your lap. 
“Do you want to tell me something?” he gently asks. 
His fingers press into a very sore spot on your head, causing you to wince and pull forward out of his hold. 
He doesn’t let you sit up, pulling you back by your shoulders into him. His fingers go back to your hair once more, but he rakes his nails through your hair instead of pushing in. 
He rakes his nails in a continuous backward motion, soothingly as he talks. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That shouldn’t have hurt.” 
A gentle kiss is placed against your ear. 
“Are you alright? Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay.” He offers. 
You think about it. The women would surely be kinder with Coriolanus in the room. But you didn’t want to admit you needed him. Worse, you didn’t want to feel indebted to him. After all, it was because of him you were going through this.  
You get up from him once more, and he allows you to create distance as you go back to the vanity set. 
“Leave me alone, Coriolanus,” you demanded. 
You wipe the tears harshly away from your face, and he sits there watching you. 
A gentle knock is heard at the door. Coriolanus rises to answer it. 
“Come in,” he orders. 
The women single file in, past him. Only he stops the women who had been barking orders at everyone all day. 
You watch him in the mirror as he brings his hand down across her face.  
A gasp leaves your lips as you watch her fall to the ground from the force. 
“I entrusted her to you. If you make me regret it, I’ll make you regret it,” he warns, staring down at her with eyes that spoke of his anger. 
He steps over her and back to his room. 
“What did you say?” the woman in the purple hat hisses at you. 
“Nothing,” you admit, “I said nothing. I promise.” 
The woman who was hit gathers herself from the floor, coming over to you and pinching the skin on your arm between her long, fake nails. 
“Well say less.” she rasped. 
“It wasn’t my fault. He’s like that,” you contend, rubbing the skin she had pinched. 
“Maybe to District scum, but not to us.” 
“Your red cheek would suggest otherwise,” you sass. 
It earns you a harsh tug on your hair as it is yanked to one side.
“Just do as you are told and face forward,” she spat.
She spins you by your hair towards the mirror. No more tears fall from your eyes, but a satisfied smirk stretches across your lips. The moment had made you feel powerful. 
While their nail files dug into your skin, and your hair was gripped too tightly just to be cut, they no longer spoke. Coriolanus had scared them into silence. 
A few moments later he reappears with his own styling crew as they struggle to bring everything they need into the room. 
He sets up next to you, and under the watchful eye of Coriolanus, your stylists turn gentle. With your body done, they move to your hair and make-up. 
The large room is crowded with all the people and equipment. The head stylist tries to persuade Coriolanus back to his own room, but he would hear none of it. 
As your hair is curled and pinned into a loose bun, the iron used slipped slightly from her hands as she pinned. It burnt behind your ear, causing you to jump from the hot touch, but no sound escaped you. 
Coriolanus noticed anyway. 
“Be careful. Watch what you are doing”, he reprimanded.  
“Yes, President Snow” the woman apologizes. 
With a spray all over your hair, the woman steps back to admire her work. 
“Alright. We are fifteen minutes behind schedule. We need to get her in her dress”, the woman with the red cheek called out. 
Coriolanus was done. Only one stylist was there with him, shining his shoes. 
They lead you to the bathroom with a dress bag. 
As soon as the door was closed, one of the stylists who had remained quiet all morning began to speak. 
“Yes, President Snow,” she mocked. 
“Shut up,” the hair stylist barked. 
The dress was pulled from the bag without a wrinkle. 
It was a sweetheart, white satin, strapless gown. The bodice had pearls strung along it, and it curved up in the middle into a line of pearls. 
It was matched with a pair of white heels with pearl straps and a jacket of the same material that was only meant to go around your shoulders and not to be worn, you learned. 
The shoulders of the jacket clipped into the dress so it didn’t move.
“There,” the head woman snapped, “You’re done.” 
You quickly rushed from her presence, back out to the bedroom where Coriolanus stood alone. 
You turn back as you walk to him, expecting the woman to come from the bathroom. But they never do.
He takes you into his arms, gaining your attention from the door
“You look beautiful,” he comments. 
He did too, but you wouldn’t admit it. He wore black instead of white, but his shirt and pocket square matched the material of your dress. 
“Thank you,” you reply. 
A slight squeak of the bathroom door had you pulling back. You would hate for them to see you so cozy in his arms. But the door never opens. 
Coriolanus pulls you tight against him again, leaning down to whisper something to you. 
“Do you want me to have them killed?” He asks. 
“No,” you say, astonished that he could think of no other solution.
“It’s up to you,” he states, “Come on. We are late.” 
He leads you back to the living room where Tigris and Grandma’am stood waiting amongst the stylists packing up. 
“Give us time to settle in before you come to visit,” Coriolanus spoke to his family. He leans his tall frame down to kiss each of them. 
“Of course,” Tigris answered. After she had kissed him, she moved over to you. Wrapping her arms around your shoulder, and placing a kiss on the corner of your head. 
“We’ll see each other again soon,” she promises. 
You smile back at her before she is replaced with Grandma’am. The older woman's hug is shorter and less affectionate. 
With a final goodbye, you follow Coriolanus and a series of Peacekeepers to the elevator and down to the car park. 
A sleek black car was waiting. A driver held out the back door, and Coriolanus placed you in the car first. 
The Peacekeepers piled into a large truck. Only one sat in the front of your car with the driver.
The divider was raised so you couldn’t see them, but you could have sworn you had seen the Peacekeeper before. You wondered if Coriolanus had brought back men from District 12. 
The car ride passed through the city. You had never seen such buzz. Colors and colors flew past you. Buildings that reached the sky gleamed. Tall statues were littered across the drive. You counted seven, and a possible eighth that flew past too fast to see more than a gray figure. 
You wanted to put the window down for a better view as the tint from the window dulled some of the colors. But Coriolanus denied your request. The wind would undo the work done on your hair, and it was important that you arrived looking your best. He had promised to take you out again later with the windows down. 
When you arrived at the presidential estate, it was surrounded by supporters of Coriolanus holding banners and sticks with a picture of Coriolanus’s face attached. They waited outside of the tall gates guarded by peacekeepers. 
As the car passed them, screams and cheers deafened you. 
It got worse when you entered the gates, the screaming was matched with flashes of white light. 
Coriolanus was unbothered by it all. His focus is all on the approaching building in front of him. 
The building was grand, surrounded by meticulously kept gardens. Large Panem flags hung on flag poles on either side of the staircase that led to the entrance. A line of staff stands at the top of the staircase. All of them were dressed in expensive white material that formed around their bodies in a long coat, and pants. Gold detailing was added to the stitches and a gold pin fashioned into the Panem symbol was pinned across their chest to keep their jacket closed. 
Even the servants dressed nicer than the high society of District 12. They looked better fed too. 
The car stopped as close as it could to the stairs and Coriolanus turned to you, taking your hand in his. 
“Stay close to me. People are excited and that can cause them to act mindless.” 
The door is opened by a Peacekeeper and Coriolanus leads you along the slim path through the sea of people. 
People reach out to touch him, yelling out to gain his attention. But his mind stayed focused on the approaching building. A look of smug satisfaction and determination played across his features. You must have looked terrified as you followed him.
These people looked like animals. They frenzied around you with only a few Peacekeepers to keep them in check. 
You stay as close as you can to Coriolanus, taking the back of his shirt into your spare hand. 
The path ends as it comes to the bottom of the step. Coriolanus reaches his hand back to release you from his shirt, bringing you to stand by him as you climb the steps. 
One woman in an all-black ensemble stood out in front of the line of staff. She greeted Coriolanus as he reached her on the steps. 
“President Snow, an honor to serve you as your head of staff.”
She reached out her right hand but his right hand was latched around yours. He was hesitant to let it go.
She pauses when he doesn’t react but quickly switches out hands which Coriolanus accepts in a handshake. 
Upon realizing your importance to him, she turns to you in a curtsy. 
“And you, Mistress.” 
The crowd cheers once more for President Snow. White roses are thrown from the crowd, falling on the road and upon the bottom of the stairs. 
Peacekeepers push back against the crowd. Things were not to be thrown at the President. 
“A pleasure. Perhaps we should get inside before the crowd decides to see how close they can get.” Coriolanus suggests. 
The woman steps back, nodding her head quickly and too many times. 
“Of course. If you would follow me, I will take you to the signing.” 
The rest of the staff remain on the steps as you and Coriolanus follow the woman.
The loudness of the crowd was shut out from the big, heavy doors. It offered you two seconds of relief before taking in the vastness of the house. 
The floors were polished and matched the furniture.  A big lush thick carpet was laid out to add some warmth to the room. It was dark red and had cream accents that splayed out in intricate designs. The entryway must have been 50 feet in width and length but the red carpet covered nearly all of it. 
Both you and Coriolanus looked around in wonder. Only Coriolanus was better at hiding his amazement. He acted indifferent as the women explained the history of the house. But you could see his eyes linger on the expensive and well-decorated decor of the house. 
Staircases were everywhere, leading up and down in all different forms of design. The house was too big. It would be easy for a person to get lost but the woman led you without stumbling. 
You wonder about her. How long had she been here? Was it a choice to serve the house? 
She didn’t seem scared or upset. There were no marks upon her cream skin suggesting a lifetime of servitude. She wore make-up, and her thick, black hair was styled fashionably. But looks could be deceiving in the Capitol. 
They liked to hide behind their fine things and sharp appearances. 
She leads you into a large office. The original flag of Panem hung framed behind a large desk. The dirt and blood that had gathered on it during the war blotted the bright colors. 
Only five reporters were allowed into the room, amongst a few other important people. They all greeted Coriolanus with a firm handshake. Only one reporter was female, and she towered over the men, assisted by her six-inch heels. She looks at your ring, and you notice an absence of one on hers. 
She was too smart to get trapped by the Capitol men. 
Coriolanus thanked them for being here with his dazzling smile while you stood behind him mute, and useless. 
The women who brought you in interrupted the polite conversation between the group. 
“President Snow, it is custom to sit in the chair while signing,” she directed. 
“Yes,” Coriolanus obliged, leading you behind the large oak desk. 
You tug your hand from him as he sits. They wanted him, not you. 
A dark green plush couch with colorful cushions called out to you. You needed to sit as your legs felt like jelly. 
“President Snow, did you want the picture with or without your First Lady?” The woman reporter asked as she readied her camera. 
“With.” Coriolanus beckoned you closer but your legs would not cooperate. 
You stood until the head of staff pushed you forward. 
“Alright, dear, you stand behind your husband and don’t forget to smile. Big smile!” She commands. 
You are thankful that her hands moved you into position. The referral to Coriolanus as your husband froze you. She told you once more to smile which activated your lips into a thin smile.
“Okay, Mr. President when you’re ready,” one of the male reporters called. 
The cameras flash blinding you as Coriolanus signs his name on the parchment. 
His signature is a series of neat loops finished by a long line that curled underneath his name. 
It was official. Coriolanus Snow would now rule over Panem. With the hopes that it was over, you go to move back out of the camera frames but it only caught the attention of the journalists. 
“Mrs. Snow, how about a kiss for the President?” One of the reporters called out. The comment frenzied the rest who shouted out encouragements. 
Coriolanus turns out to you in his chair, permitting you to follow the command. 
So you do. Bending down to his height and placing a kiss on his lips. He steadies you with a hand on the side of your face so that the kiss deepens. 
The cameras liked that. You pull away, but Coriolanus' hand keeps you in place. 
His thumb brushes against the lipstick that had smudged getting rid of it before wiping his hand over his mouth. 
A make-up artist comes over to him, helping him to rid the lipstick off his face and reapplying power from a compact. 
“Okay, can we get a shot of just the President staring down the lens with the flag in the background?” The woman once more directs. 
You move quickly out of the way as the journalists kneel on the floor for the shot, and point their cameras up. 
You find comfort on the couch and watch as Coriolanus is directed for the magazine shots. 
When he is not directed to stare into a camera his eyes are on you, making sure that you are still in the room. 
A deep regret sets on your posed photos. You should have said no. Coriolanus would be too cautious to correct you in front of what constituted the entirety of Panem. You could have gotten away with it. Now your family was sure to see the photos of you happily smiling behind him. Kissing him, with a diamond ring on your finger. 
What would Edmund's family think? Your own family would think of you as a traitor. What would the family who lost everything due to you think? Edmund was keeping them afloat. How would they get by now? Would your brother take care of them as Edmund took care of his family? Would they accept the help of a traitor's brother?
Coriolanus stands from the desk in front of the reporters. 
“As you can imagine, yesterday was a long day. If you are satisfied with the photos I would like to settle in with my new wife.” 
“Of course, Mr. President,” was the resounding response. 
He comes to collect you on the couch as the head of staff briefs the people in the room on what is to happen now. 
“No one is to leave this room. Peacekeepers will come and escort you out. You and your equipment will be searched before you are released back to your firm. The President thanks you for your time and service to your country.” 
Coriolanus brings your arm to loop through his as you follow the woman back out into the vast space of the house. 
She takes you up a large, twin staircase back at the main entrance of the house, and along a corridor lined with a long carpet. At the very end came a double-door entrance that stretched from the very bottom, all the way to the top. 
This was the President's quarters. She unlocks the door with a key that was passed to Coriolanus, and swings open the doors so you can see the space. 
Another enormous space was filled with plush rugs and expensive furniture. Back home a house consisted of the bare necessities. In the Capitol, they had space for every activity and filled it with unnecessary furniture. 
A breakfast nook, a long dinner table, a sitting area, a living room, a walk-in coat closet, two full bathrooms, a tall wine fridge, and a set-up bar were all contained within the floor. A staircase that led up suggested that there was more to the living space. 
The woman asks if she can do anymore, but Coriolanus assures her there is nothing to be done but rest now. 
She shows Coriolanus a button he could push to call for a servant before bidding him goodbye. 
He was quick to shut the door behind her as you wandered into the apartment. 
“What do you think?” He asks. 
“People live like this?” You run a hand over a soft blanket draped over the couch. 
“I never have,” he admits. 
 From a war-ruined boy, to a Peacekeeper, to Commander of District 12, Coriolanus lived far from the luxury of the Capitol. 
He got nights of Capitol living when he came to visit from District 12 but his home had always been rat-infested slums. 
“It’ll feel more like home when you settle in, and make it your own.”
“It’ll never feel like home,” you remark snidely. 
Coriolanus picks up a small decorative statue and examines it. 
“Well not your home back in District 12, but your home in the Capitol.” 
He places the statue back down and holds out his hand for you to take. 
“Shall we see upstairs?” 
Upstairs was as impressive as down. Six spare bedrooms each with their own bathrooms and ready for guests, a sizable private study that conjoined to a lavish sleeping arrangement. 
You open the doors to your closet to find that it already had been filled with clothing. A pair of comfortable-looking pants and a singlet call out to you, and you ask Coriolanus if you could change. 
He gives you permission, telling you that he was going to look around the estate but he would be back soon. 
The bathroom had heated tiles which helped to keep you warm as you tried to figure out the shower. There was a pad with buttons that had too many commands to work.
You finally figure it out with pure luck and a heavy stream of water shoots out from the shower head. 
You shower off the make-up and hair spray. Some glitter that had been dusted on your skin had to be scrubbed off which left you red, and pruny from the time it took. 
Another battle to turn off the water, before you could reach for a white fluffy towel off the rack. It was warm too from the heated rack.
With Coriolanus gone, you explored the room. Everything was set up as if you already lived here. 
You find a book about the history of Panem in the bookcase and flick through it. It talked about the Dark Days. How District people were dangerous and out to ruin Capitol life. 
Large black and white pictures taken during the war were displayed in large form across the page. The Capitol during the war looked like District 12 now. 
The next page showed a photo of rebels being lined up to be shot. The page after that had a photo of a man. A general during the war. The name shocked you. 
General Crassus Snow. He looked a little like Coriolanus. Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but without the name, you wouldn’t have known.
A hero they called him. It turned out Coriolanus wasn’t lying to you when he said his father was killed in 12. You wondered how that must have felt for him, to go back there and rule over the place that left him fatherless. 
A little blurb read that Crassus Snow was known to have an excellent head for strategy and nerves of steel. With a commanding presence that rose him quickly through the military ranks before he was cowardly killed in an ambush. 
Coriolanus had followed in his father’s footsteps. The page could have been Coriolanus' autobiography. 
Your fingers trace the photo of the man standing tall in his uniform. If he was alive, you doubt he would have let Coriolanus get involved with you. But he wasn’t, and you were here, trapped in the Capitol, while he was buried somewhere in District 12. 
You continue with the book, scoffing as they skew history to fit their narrative. War was never one-sided. 
You hear him as he enters the study. The door was heavy and loud. 
Expecting him to appear, you continue flipping through the pages of the book. 
But time passes with no appearance.
You finish the book and go to find out what he is doing. 
Taking the side door, you could see his back as it faced a large painting on the far wall. You knew from school that the picture was of the past President Ravenstill.
He gazes at the portrait with his hands clasped behind his back. 
“Coriolanus?” You call. It breaks his concentration, and he unhooks himself from his rigid posture to extend his hand out to you. But he never faces away from the painting. 
You rush to accept his hand, looking up at the painting with him. There was nothing special about it. An oil painting that depicted a hateful man in a powerful position. 
But something about it captivates Coriolanus. 
“Are you alright?” you ask. His broody eyes normally meant bad things for you.
“You see this?” He bends his forehead to your level and points to a faint scar on the top corner of his head. 
“During the war, I went looking for scraps around the Presidential palace. I found a great big bucket full of half-eaten bones with meat still on them just sitting there over the fence, so I reached my hand in to try and get one. I was found by a Peacekeeper who informed me that the President said they were for his dogs and left me with a scar from the butt of his rifle.” 
He looks away from you and back to the painting. You were grateful for it. There was a darkness in his eyes that scared you. 
“Now I am the man in the palace,” he mutters. 
“I am sorry that happened to you.” 
He smiles at your words. Pity was something he wanted from no one but you. 
“You can do a lot of good, Coriolanus,” you temper with a squeeze to his hand. 
He nods his head in agreement, “I will. The Capitol will flourish under me.”
“You could do good in the Districts too. You saw the disadvantages there.”
His grip around your hand tightened, and his jaw locked in place. The painting was no longer of any interest. You now bore his intense stare. 
“I saw a bunch of animals clawing at each other to get ahead. You should be thankful that I saved you.”
“Saved me?” You questioned. 
He had not saved you from a burning building but taken you from your bed at night. 
“It wouldn’t have been long before the animals tore into you.”
The hold on your hand loosens and he takes a step back from you. 
“I’ll ring down for lunch.” He disappears from the room, leaving you in front of the painting. That night it was replaced with one of Coriolanus. The painting of him was still wet but hung proudly in the room. 
The next morning after a luxurious breakfast you went straight back to bed and stayed there until Coriolanus returned home. 
You had no idea if he locked the door on his way out, you never checked. There was nothing out there for you. No family or friends to shield you in their arms. No familiar faces, or sense of community. 
Tigris and Grandma’am visited on the weekend, wanting to be shown around. But you only knew the bed, and Coriolanus spent too many hours at the official office downstairs to know the little details of the apartment. The head of staff was called again to show the group around the property. It took nearly half an hour to explore the place. 
Grandma’am was too old to do that much walking but she wouldn’t slow down. She had dreamt about this day, longer than Coriolanus had. She held on to him as he assisted her in walking, and you held her handbag. 
They stayed for coffee and cake which delighted Coriolanus. You spoke very little, even as Tigris tried to coax a conversation out of you. The crushing weight of defeat was hindering your ability to be social. 
When they left, you got an earful from Coriolanus, who was disappointed in your behavior. All was forgiven, however, when the lights turned off and you were alone in bed with him.
The staff thought it was odd when you insisted that you would do the cleaning and cooking for yourself and Coriolanus. He took great pride in it. Feeling as if it was a testimony of your love. But in truth, your days were so much longer without it.
Sometimes there were visitors from the Academy or acquaintances from high society. Grandma’am and Tigris came over consistently but most of the time you were left completely alone. 
For a brief period, while the facilities for you to cook and clean were installed, you lived back in the Snow Penthouse. 
You enjoyed other company besides Coriolanus. One night after he was finished with you, you asked him if home could be here instead of the Presidential Palace. 
He gave a laundry list of reasons as to why that wouldn’t be possible. The Presidential Palace was safer. It was the place where the President and the First Lady were supposed to live. Besides he didn’t want Tigris, and Grandma’am around while he adjusted to married life. You knew it all boiled down to the fact he simply didn’t want to. 
—------------------
The night you return to the Presidential Palace, he comes to bed with a stack of papers.
“Look,” he leans closer to you, holding out a bit of paper that you couldn’t read under the sporadic flashes of light from the Tv. 
“My first official act as President. Schools will now provide breakfast and lunch free of charge for every school student.”
“I thought children in the Capitol never had to worry about food”. 
“Some do,” he responds, “There are poorer and richer classes in the Capitol too. Not to the extent of the Districts, but we have our own troubles in the Capitol.” 
The Capitol people, no matter how poor, were not treated like animals, and terrorized by a militant group. They were still Capitol, and thus worthy of respect. 
“And university is free for those in the top 10% of their cohort. I’ll make the announcement first thing tomorrow morning.”
“That’s wonderful” you praise, although you cared little for the new change. 
He felt as if the bill would rewind the clock. Damn the Hunger Games, and the Plinth Prize. If he could bury the mistakes of his past, they never happened. 
—----------------
Coriolanus grew desperate for a baby after his first month of presidency. He wished he had gotten you pregnant back in District 12 so he could have a baby halfway through his first term. But he didn’t dwell on the past when he could focus on the future. 
He tried desperately every night to put a baby in you, but nothing stuck.
He grew worried that time in the Districts had made you barren. After a very uncomfortable examination by a doctor who assured him that you were able to bear children, but simply have not. 
The thought of children made you feel sick. You had no idea how you would manage it on top of everything. You did not want his children, but how could you stop him? He was the one who decided your future. 
Every morning he would wait outside of the bathroom door for you to do a test. You would bring a negative result back, and his face would sag. 
His frustration was rough in form. Since election night, fun was the only objective for Coriolanus. But as his want for a child grew, teasing and pleasing you were secondary to his need. Again and again, in the same night, he would manhandle you in positions he thought were best. They left him with a sore wife and no baby to show for it. 
A doctor had suggested that extreme stress can disrupt the ovulation cycle making it difficult to plan strategic timing of sex. This had annoyed Coriolanus greatly. You went on only a few official obligations in which you stayed by Coriolanus. You were fed, clothed, and rested. There was no extreme stress in your life that would hinder you from his baby. 
You verbally agreed with his rant but laughed in private at his delusional hissy fit. 
Every night when he was finished, he would sleep thinking tomorrow he would wake with good news. 
One day he did. He was getting ready to go down to the office, waiting for you to present him with the test. 
You expect the same as before, but as you expect the test, you notice an instant difference. 
Scrambling for the box, you check the instructions. A cold shot through you as you looked back to see the indication of pregnancy. 
In hope you take another one. 
Coriolanus knocks on the door, telling you he has to leave soon. 
You don’t care, you stare at the test waiting for a negative result. 
It appeared the same as the other.
Coriolanus calls out again. On auto-pilot, you unlock the door and show him the test. He knew from your expression that it was positive but he looks anyway. 
He kisses you deeply, but you can’t move against him. You were going to be a mother. Die nursing Coriolanus’s babies. 
“A baby,” he says joyously. He brings his hand to your stomach and smiles, “A Snow.” 
He ushers you back into bed, and calls for a maid to come tend to you while he is at work. All day you only move to throw up once. 
The maid annoys you all day by asking you to do things. You just wanted to cry in bed without an audience. 
As soon as the news was announced, floods of gifts came piling into the apartment. Designer clothes, a gold crib, flowers, and chocolate were sent for you. You threw them all out. 
Every day you spend organizing and putting away presents only for more to come. 
If you had thought your life was miserable before pregnancy, your life was unbearable while you were pregnant. Coriolanus was anxious about losing the baby. 
The whole nine months at breakfast each morning a doctor checked for any complications. It made it difficult to eat which frustrated you as you woke every morning with great hunger. Only to throw it up again by mid-morning. 
You were young and healthy so the pregnancy was low risk. Due to the rations in the Districts, your iron was low, but with your meals now being made by qualified chefs and nutritionists it quickly came back up to an acceptable level. 
Coriolanus insisted that everything was a risk. Cooking over a hot stove, or bending to clean.  You came to work with him like you did at the Compound. It was then you realized that he was more worried about you self-sabotaging the pregnancy than he was about the chemicals in cleaning products. 
You grew big and uncomfortable. With the hormones raging in your body you would cry randomly during the day. One time when Tigris came to drop off the baby clothes she had made you, Coriolanus insisted she stayed for tea in the garden. 
It was a beautiful day, and you had company other than Coriolanus. It was one of your better days. But upon seeing a dead baby bird at the edge of the garden, you began to cry uncontrollably. 
You resisted Coriolanus' hold as he shouted for the bird to be taken away. The scene greatly shocked Tigres who quickly left when Coriolanus returned you to your room. 
In addition to the mood swings, your baby kicked all day long giving you little rest. It took a toll on your appearance, leaving you looking half-dead.
Everywhere you turned someone was handing you a pillow and a blanket or offering you food. You felt like the main attraction at a circus. The only good thing about the pregnancy was that no meant no.
Coriolanus was far more respectful of your boundaries. All you had to put up with was his interactions with his unborn child. He liked to speak to it in your stomach and feel it kick. On daily walks for the baby's health, he would hold the bump as he accompanied you around the grounds. He was excited to be a father but you were terrified of being a mother in an entirely different world than your own. 
Both you and Coriolanus attended parenting classes to help with the transition. Even raising babies was different in the Capitol. Mothers were not supposed to leave the house for 40 days after the birth. District women went back to work before the week was out. 
The teachers talked about safe sleeping practices in a cot, District babies slept in a basket cushioned with rags. 
Special food was designed for every stage of toddler life here. Babies back home ate what was available. 
The classes made you grateful that your child was Capitol. At least you could give them a happy, comfortable life.
Coriolanus would ensure the best for his child that you were sure of. 
—--------
Nine months passed quickly. One early morning you woke up in a great deal of pain. Coriolanus was still asleep next to you. You knew the baby was ready to come, but you were not ready for the baby. 
You try to delay the baby. The midwife said you had another week. 
A hot bath stops the pain for a little while, but the sound of running water wakes Coriolanus. You’re in the bath for thirty minutes before he rises from bed to join you.
He doesn’t knock as he enters. There was a time when you would have tried to cover up, but those days were long gone.
Coriolanus kneels by the bathtub and places a hand on your rounded stomach. 
“Kicking, is he?” Coriolanus asks. 
“Yeah. Something like that,” you state. 
“He’s just excited to be here next week.” 
As if it was a call to action, your stomach begins to contract painfully tight. You wince, trying hard to keep a sound from coming out. 
“Are you alright?” He asks with concern. 
“Yes. Can you help me out of the tub?” 
The plug is pulled by twisting a round knob to your left, and the water drains quickly. 
He helps you out of the tub gently, wrapping you in a towel and helping you walk to your wardrobe. 
All of your pregnancy clothes were loose dresses that fell down to your ankles. You picked a light blue one but as the fabric fell around your body, your stomach gave a harsh twist. It felt as if your stomach muscles were being pulled from your stomach. 
You feel Coriolanus place a hand on your back. 
“I’ll call for the doctor,” he says. 
The doctor and his nurses had been moved into the presidential palace for the pregnancy. Coriolanus wanted to be sure that if anything went wrong, a team of experts was at hand. 
“No,” you moan, “He’s just moving that’s all.” 
The next contraction had you yelling and kneeling over in pain. 
“Is he coming?” His voice carried an excitement that could only be found in a person not about to give birth. 
“To the bed,” he demands, “Come on.” 
The team is quickly called up, bringing with them scary-looking machines. Your doctor had previously explained what they did and how he would deliver the baby. But none of it mattered now. You were terrified. 
Coriolanus only left your side to get dressed. The labor was nearly fourteen hours, during which Coriolanus held your hand and waited for the contractions to get closer together. 
He tried his best to make you comfortable. Hard pillows were brought in for you so you could sit up, and he held a water bottle close, ready for you. 
As you enter the second stage of labor, the pain intensifies as your body gets ready for the push. Your fear spikes, knowing that a baby would soon be placed in your care. 
“No, no,” you mutter. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, You were supposed to be married to the love of your life, and have your mother to coach you through this. 
“You’re alright, darling. He is almost here,” Coriolanus dabbed an ice-cold rag over your forehead as he spoke. 
“No,” you state more forcibly, “I want my mother.”
“Mrs. Snow, you need to start pushing,” the doctor instructs. Your body pushes automatically, causing a painful groan to resound around the room. 
Coriolanus gives you words of encouragement but they buzz in your ear. The sound of your mother's name coming from your lips was the only thing you heard.  
“You don’t need her. Just keep going.” He soothes. 
You scream at the pain. The room felt as if it was on fire around you, but you knew it was cold outside. The world began to blur, the beeping of the machines and talk of the medical team lapped. 
You look towards the doorway as your body begins to push again. You swear you see your mother peeking in. 
“Mum!” you scream, “Mum, please, don’t leave me.”
“No, No.” Coriolanus consoles. 
“No. Coriolanus, I want my mother. Where’s my brother?” You ask in a state of panic that brings tears to your eyes. 
“Mrs. Snow, push.” The doctor bids. 
“No!” you scream back, “Not without my mum.”
“Mrs. Snow, this baby is coming. You don’t have time,” the doctor says. 
“Push,” Coriolanus tells you. 
“Please, Coriolanus, please,” you beg. All you wanted was to see her. If he didn’t want you to speak that would be fine. You just needed to see your mother as you delivered your first child.
“What have you done?” You sob, looking at his worried face. 
“I haven’t done anything,” he defends, “You need to start pushing.”
Pain ripples through your body and you push to ease it. 
Three big pushes that burn, and suddenly the pressure in your stomach is gone. 
A loud cry fills the room, in constellation with your heavy panting. 
The crying buddle is brought to you by the doctor, but you push his hands away. One peak at his light blonde hair had you feeling sick. He was supposed to have dark hair like Edmund’s. He was supposed to be Edmund’s child. 
Instead, the child was given to Coriolanus who accepted him into his arms. 
“Coriolanus, where is my mother?” You ask. 
“She’s not here. You know that,” he answers. 
Still, you scream for her to save you. 
“Commander Snow, please! Just let me see her,” you beg. 
He looks down at you puzzled, with the screaming child in his arms. 
Despite feeling as if you had been hit by a train, you attempt to rise which is discouraged by everyone in the room.
 Coriolanus steps forward to stop you, but won’t release his hands from his son. 
You feel the pressure from the nurses on your shoulder as they press you back into the mattress. 
“Sir, can I administer a sedative to calm her?” a nurse asks. 
Coriolanus nods at the nurse, and she inserts a needle into your IV drip. 
“Get off. No!” You try to tug against the IV connection, but your hands are pinned down. 
“Mum!” you shout, “Archie!” 
The sedative works fast. You soon find yourself unable to hold your head up. The fight kicked out from under you. 
You watch as Coriolanus holds tight to the small blanket. 
“Commander, please.” You mumble, but hear no response as you slip into a deep sleep.  
—-----------
When you wake it feels as if each limb has been torn from your body, and you have been hastily stitched together again. 
The room is blurred but your eyes are opened. You could feel their sting as you failed to blink. 
You had a son, you think, but where is he? Why can’t I hear him crying?
With newfound motivation you will yourself to get your bearings. 
Your muscles move at your control once more, and your eyes focus on the lamp on the table. 
As you regain control, you hear footsteps by the end of the bed. Your head rolls on the pillow to see Coriolanus as he stands over a bassinet, still for a second, before he reaches down and picks up your baby, wrapped tightly and swaddled. 
You wanted to call out and demand that he place your baby back down but you were still hazy from the drugs. You're too slow to gain back your voice. 
He sits in a nearby rocking chair with the baby tightly in his arms, beginning to rock gently as he gazes down at the small bundle. 
The baby fusses slightly but is soon soothed back to sleep. 
Seeing your baby in no harm, you try and sit up 
“Coriolanus,” you call. His eyes shoot up to watch you as you rise into a sitting position but go back to your baby as he speaks. 
“Take it easy. He’s okay,” he consoles. 
“Is he healthy?” You ask. 
Coriolanus smiles down at his son, as he rocks back and forth. 
“He’s perfect. I’ve named him, Crassus Alexander Snow, after my father.”
You hate that your son is named after the man in the book. You hate that Coriolanus has named him without your approval. Your son wasn’t a doll for him to play with. He had taken enough from you, now it felt as if he was after your son too. 
“You named him?” Your voice was hard with your displeasure. 
“I had to. The nurses needed a name. Don’t worry you can have the next one.”
The next one. Not even 24 hours after an excruciating labor, and he was talking about the next one. 
Looking around, you see that you only felt like you had just given birth. The machines, apart from your IV drip next to you, had been taken back. The bed was fresh under you, and you had been changed into comfortable pajamas.  
You lean back into the bed, silent. This was not how you pictured your first child. You wanted your mother and brother to see him.  
You picture seeing them again. Just one last time to say goodbye. 
The thought of it makes you break the silence you otherwise never would have broken. 
“Coriolanus, do you think I could write to my mother to let her know I had a child?” You ask quietly. 
He is quiet which worries you. Your mother would know when the Capitol news circulated through the District, but you were hoping to at least let her know you tried to tell her. 
“Yes, you should,” he finally spoke.
He gets up from the rocker and walks slowly towards your bed. 
“Here, do you want to hold him?” 
You open your arms for Coriolanus to place your son into. 
He fits perfectly and doesn’t wake.
You stare at him. He didn’t feel like your son. Crassus was a small baby, with light blonde hair. Not how you imagined him. 
Coriolanus lays on the bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so he could bring you close. 
“Thank you,” he says, “I know how scared you were. You called for your mother. Do you remember?”
You were hoping that he wouldn’t mention it. That it could just be something that happened and then forgotten.
“Did I?” you fawn. 
You're careful to keep your eyes on your son, and not to look anywhere that could gain Coriolanus's attention. 
He captures it anyway by bringing your chin up to his height. 
“You did so well, and I am so proud of you,” he praises. He places a quick kiss on your lips before drawing his head back. 
“I love you.” He states. His eyes look at you expecting. 
“I love you too, Coriolanus.”
You never know if the letter you write is sent home. No return was ever given. 
—--------------
A week later your baby boy lay between you and Coriolanus on the bed. He was sleeping after you had just fed him. It took a while for you to feel connected to him but now a mother's bond was established, and you could watch him sleep for hours. 
Coriolanus ran his finger down the side of his baby's face and down to his little belly, rubbing soothing circles to try and help him digest the milk. 
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Coriolanus spoke to you but kept his gaze on his child. 
“Yes,” you agree. 
You wished your mother could see your baby. To hold him as is her right as a grandmother. You had wanted to ask Coriolanus, but you knew the answer. Still, you had to ask. Maybe he would be kinder to you after birthing his child. 
“Coriolanus, I was wondering if I might be able to take him back home to see my family?”
His eyes shot up at you. The answer was more than no, it was how dare you. 
“Don’t you ever ask me that again.” he seethes. 
You held little hope that he would agree so his denial hurt less. 
“Can we video call them?” you try to compromise.
“No,” his answer was hard and cold, “Put him in his bassinet and come back.” He commanded. 
Crassus’s bassinet was only at the end of your bed. Coriolanus wanted to keep him close. 
Your baby stirs as you gently pick him up but settles back into his mother's arms. He was so milk-drunk that the normal fight to set him into his bassinet was won with a gentle rock. 
You knew you were in trouble with Coriolanus. The only time you had wished that your baby fought sleep was so you could avoid Coriolanus’ wrath. 
He holds his tongue until you are back lying next to him. 
“I don’t want you speaking about your family ever again. I don’t want our son to know that you are District. Think about them if you must, but if you continue to speak about them, I will have them killed.” 
“They are my family,” you spat. 
“We are your family. Us. Your son and your husband.”
You get up from next to him, even though you know you shouldn’t. 
“Lay back down,” he demands. 
“I’ve done everything you have asked of me,” you snivel, “Gone to every event where they look at me like a trained animal. Cooked your meals, washed your clothes. Gave you a son, just like you wanted.” 
Your voice was wobbly and raised. The hormones that were still raging through your body from birth trapped you between uncontrollable sadness and an unquenchable fury. 
“Be quiet. You’ll wake Crassus,” Coriolanus scolded. 
“I don’t care!” You yell. 
Coriolanus looks to the bassinet at the end of the bed, expecting his son to wake, crying. 
All is silent. You lower your voice as you continue speaking. If you upset Crassus all conversation would stop. 
“Crassus doesn’t have to come. I can have a one-hour phone call a month without him. He doesn’t have to know, but I can’t live like this.” 
His eyes snapped to you as he lay in the bed. “Can’t live like this? I have given you a life so terrible that you can’t bear it?”
He rises from the bed, and you take a step back. You were in a bad condition after birth. There was no way you could defend yourself against him. 
“Nothing I do for you is ever good enough for you” he exclaims. His eyes squint at you but his voice is calm and collected, “You know how dangerous it was for me to help you in 12? A Commander, and a District girl. How that looked for me in my presidential run? But I didn’t care. From the day I met you, I have looked after you. And you want me to feel in debt to you, because why? You cook the food I give you? Wash the clothes I buy? Birthed a beautiful son that you never would have had without me.” 
“You didn’t ‘take care of me’, Coriolanus. You took me. I never asked for any of it. I want to go home to my family.”
Coriolanus stood across from you, his face unmoving and hard. 
“You’re right. Family is important,” he suddenly says. His face relaxes, and body unwinded. 
He moves quickly to the end of the bed where Crassus lies. 
“Your brother had a child. A little girl, named after you,” he rocks the bassinet gently despite his threatening words. 
“You want to see her? I can bring her here,” he taunts. 
“No,” you whisper. 
“No? All this talk of family, and the answer is no?’’ 
He looks down at his sleeping baby, checking for any signs of distress. 
“I could bring them all here. They could work in the presidential estate. You’re the only one who doesn’t have to earn their keep”.
You imagine them dressed in the same white uniforms as the other servants. How much control Coriolanus would have over their lives daily. 
“That’s not what I am asking,” you state. 
“You’re asking to have your family around you, and I couldn’t agree more. Unless you don’t consider them family?” 
“Well?” he pushes after a moment of silence. 
“No.”
“Who do you consider family then?”
“You and Crasuss,” you gave the answer he wanted to hear. 
“That’s right!” He cooed, running a hand over Crassus’s head, “Just us. All you need is us.”
He straightens once more, giving his full attention back to you. 
“I am not asking you to be grateful, but I will not allow you to be thankless,” he shoves his hands in his pockets in a casual manner. 
“You should sleep as he sleeps,” he suggests. He wanted the fight to be over, and the newborn bliss to continue. 
“Lay back down, and go to sleep. No more talk of Districts.”
He leaves you in the room with your son, retreating from any further fighting. 
You wondered if it was true. Did Archie have a baby? 
Some part of you hoped it was true, and that she would fill the void of you in their lives. Just as Crassus filled the void for you. 
—-----------
With the success of Crasuss, Coriolanus was eager to have another one. You were still getting used to motherhood. You weren’t sure if you could deal with this one, let alone another one. 
Coriolanus stayed home with you for the 40 days that you were supposed to be on bed rest. He was up late with work, and then during the night with Crasuss. 
He tried to give you as much rest as he could. But Crassus needed you for feedings, and sometimes he would only settle if he was in your arms. 
Coriolanus was unversed in assessing others' needs. He would bounce Crassus when he needed to be held, change his diaper when he needed to be fed, and give him toys that were too old for him. 
He couldn’t decipher his cries like you could, leaving him frustrated. 
You knew he tried, which was more than you expected of him. 
You wake from the sound of your son crying from what feels like a two second nap. Coriolanus tried to prolong it for you by trying to soothe the baby himself. 
“He needs to be burped,” you tell Coriolanus, “Put him up on your shoulder and pat his back.”
He had only just fed so you knew it was just tummy pain. 
Coriolanus does as you say. Crassus settles as he is put upright but no burp comes. 
“It’s not working,” Coriolanus panics. Every little thing the doctor was to be called to check it out. 
“Keep going,” you encourage. 
Coriolanus sighs in relief when Crassus lets out a little burp and returns to being a happy baby. 
“You’re good at this,” he commented, “ A natural.” 
He always knew you would be, but to see it in action filled him with great joy and admiration. 
You huff in response, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 
Coriolanus had to go back to his usual duties, leaving you with the full responsibilities of being a mother. 
It was overwhelming to have no one else to talk to but a baby. You spent your days in the apartment which drove you crazy. 
You eye the door. Coriolanus never told you to stay in the apartment. It was just an assumption you made. You knew you would never get outside of the gates, but you would settle for the gardens. 
With your baby in your arms, you cautiously twist the knob. 
There is no booby trap as you step out. No alarm rings. So you continue your journey. 
You vaguely remember the way from when you were out of the apartment with Coriolanus. 
A maid was polishing the wood of the staircase you needed to go down. You curse but try to act casual as you approach her. 
“Mrs. Snow,” the maid seemed surprised to see you, “Can I do something for you?” 
“No. I am just going to the gardens,” you justify. 
You walk quickly away from her. You hear her calling your name but you don’t stop. 
The house is large and echos as you make your way across it. The entrance out into the gardens was almost hidden. 
You wanted to run, but you were careful not to shake your baby too much. 
The big door comes into view. A sense of excitement and apprehension overcame you. You had never been outside of the Presidential quarters without Coriolanus. Now you were stepping outside. It felt as if you were gaining some independence back. 
When you open the door, you are confronted with a Peacekeeper, who stands aside out of your way. 
You thank him as you move past him, but he follows wordlessly as you cross the field. 
The maid had called the Peacekeeper on you, who called Coriolanus on you, and Coriolanus had told the Peacekeeper to keep an eye on what you were doing.
You find a spot under a tree in the lowest field, the Peacekeeper stands ten feet away to give you and your baby some privacy. 
You play with your baby in the short grass. He liked the feeling of it.
Some maids come, bringing a picnic blanket, and a glass of lemonade. 
You thank them although you wanted none of their assistance. 
Crassus has some tummy time listening to the birds. You lay back on the grass and watch the sun as it goes down. It was comforting to know that your mother and brother would be looking at the same sun. As far away as they were, at least something still connected you. 
You tell Crassus about them and he babbles back as if he was trying to talk. You tell him about Edmund in the prime of his life. You don’t discuss Edmund’s death or his father's involvement. 
You begin to explain District 12 to him just as the sun disappears behind the trees, when you hear the Peacekeeper stand to attention in greeting. You shut up immediately.
“It’s time to come inside” Coriolanus’s voice is heard. 
He picks his son up and places him on his shoulder after a quick kiss. 
You get up with the blanket and cup as you follow him back to the house. 
Coriolanus takes the items from you and gives them to the Peacekeeper in passing. 
“Look at this,” Coriolanus pulls out a small doll from his pocket,  “A senator's little girl gave it to me. She was so cute. We should try for a girl next.” 
You still had four weeks before the doctor gave you the go-ahead to engage in intercourse. But you knew Coriolanus would push the limits on that time frame. 
“I want to wait at least a year before another one,” you tell him. 
It already was so difficult, you wouldn’t survive having to care for another one. 
“No,” Coriolanus protested, “I would like a girl before the years out.”
You knew how obsessive Coriolanus could be when he had a thought trapped in his head. You also knew that nothing you said was going to change his mind. 
You wait until Crassus is asleep, and your shift with Coriolanus starts. 
He was waiting for you like he usually is. After Crassus was asleep, it was his turn to have his wife. 
He had opened a bottle of wine and was flicking through the tv channels. It surprised him when you dropped to your knees in front of him. 
Your hands reach for his trousers, and he eagerly helps you to take them off. During pregnancy he didn’t want to force you to do anything, thinking that it might harm the baby. After he was born, there was a recovery period that he had to wait through. It left Coriolanus pent up and hungry for your touch. 
Your lips were warm on him and worked so well. 
After all of your experience, you knew what Coriolanus liked. You swatted his hands off you as he tried to take control. He relents, bringing his hands to his thighs in a tight grip. 
You feel it grow in your mouth with your attention. It twitches under your tongue and you knew it as a sign he was close.
Just as he is reaching his high, you drag your lips back and off. 
He gasps as you do, throwing his head back onto the couch. 
“What are you doing?” He groans. He was irritated, which was not your desired effect. 
“Crassus turns one before another baby,” you demand. 
His hands curl into the couch as he counters, “Eight months.” 
You move to get up but his hands stop you, “Okay, okay, a year. Just finish.” He begs. 
You do finish him off, with the smug satisfaction that Coriolanus Snow is just a man. 
The day Crassus turns one, Coriolanus keeps you to your bargain. 
Coriolanus was determined to have a girl. Clothes and bows had already been brought. 
While Capitol technology allowed you to artificially change the sex of your baby, Coriolanus was more interested in conceiving the natural way. 
He researched old myths to increase his chances, and he tried all of them. 
He made you drink lemon juice before sex. He initiated sex on even days of the week. You were on a diet of fish, eggs, and vegetables. And you had to leave your legs raised for a couple of minutes after he was finished. 
You were slow to conceive like you were with Crassus. But one of the old wives' tales worked, for nearly nine months after Crassus turned one, you fell pregnant with a baby girl. 
You named her Aurora meaning dawn. A silent homage to your family back home, and the sun that connects you. 
—-------------------- 
Having children strangely settled you. You had five children in total within years of each other.  Your fifth child was your last. After you had lost too much blood during the birth of your next boy, Coriolanus put off plans to have a sixth. It scared him, seeing you so pale, laying half dead in a bed like his mother. The goal of children was to bring you closer, not to use you up. 
They gave your life purpose and little room to think about anything else but their needs. As they grew, you got more freedom to explore the city. Always under an army of guards. Coriolanus wanted them to have a full life, even if it meant granting you  access to be far from him. 
His children were not to miss out on anything the Capitol had to offer. Their names were on the top of the list for any attractions, child star concerts, and plays. The world was at their fingertips, and you got to experience Capitol life through them. 
He went when he could but his work was demanding. In his absence, a team of Peacekeepers escorted you and your kids around the Capitol. 
Despite his many faults, Coriolanus was a doting father. His children were first, sometimes before you. Where once his hold was tight around you all night, now you wake to find that one of your children had escaped their bed and taken your place. 
You always worried about his temper. He hasn’t hit you in years. You figure it was partly because you gave him little reason to, and partly because if you weren’t physically holding a child in your arms, you had one in your belly. 
But as your children grew would they be in the same danger as you if they acted out?
They all had the signature blonde hair of a Snow, but only the firstborn had Coriolanus’s blue eyes. Your other two boys and girls had your eyes. Something to tell you that they weren’t all Coriolanus. 
Date night normally consisted of an official event. They were far and few between as Coriolanus preferred you to be home with the babies. He disliked nannies but conceded to their usefulness. 
Tonight was a charity event to raise money for a new public swimming pool. Vapid and silly. At this stage, only Crassus and Aurona were born to be left crying as you tried to leave for the event. 
They were not used to being parted from you, and you were not used to being parted from them. 
“It’s okay,” you hush, “Mummy will be back soon, and she will check on you.”
Aurora was too young to know what your words meant. Her only cue that something was wrong was Crassus as he screamed. 
“No, Mummy, no!” His face was bright red from tears. You worried that he was short on breath from his screaming. 
He knew when you dressed up, you were leaving. He was four but a smart little thing.  As soon as the stylist crew arrived, his meltdown began. 
You held him as they did your hair and make-up, trying to soothe him. Coriolanus was still at work. All he needed to do was change his suit when he arrived home. 
He arrived home to chaos he could not settle. 
He stood behind you, watching as your son tried to tug off your elbow-length glove. 
“It’s alright, it’s okay. Mum will be back,” you promise. 
Aurora throws her head back, throwing her body off balance in your hold. 
The two nannies try to gain the kids' attention by holding out new toys, and calling out to them. 
“Once you leave they will settle,” one of the nannies promised. 
With teary eyes, you kiss both of your crying children, Coriolanus does the same, and Aurora is handed over. 
Crassus’s little hands claw onto your dress, he has to be picked up and yanked away by his nanny. 
You try not to let your tears fall as you walk to the car. It would ruin your make-up, and once you started to cry, you weren’t sure you would be able to stop. 
“They will be fine,” Coriolanus promises on the way to the event. 
“Why do I have to go tonight?” It was a silly thing that would survive without you. 
“Because you’re my wife. That’s why.”
Despite many years in the Capitol, events like this reminded you that you don’t belong. 
People would only talk to you in an attempt to gain an audience with Coriolanus. 
You would remain civil but not overly friendly. 
They all thought you were shy and timid as you were rarely seen, and always by Coriolanus’s side. 
Your relationship with Coriolanus had changed over the years but his overprotectiveness never dissolved.
His hand was always on you in some form. Where he went, you went. Who he talked to, you talked to. You were only an extension of him in public. At least at home, you were your own person to your kids. 
Tonight it seemed to all children. Only one person spoke to you apart from Coriolanus. 
It was a little girl, who passed you a flower in thanks. The public pool didn’t seem so silly in your eyes anymore. You bent down to talk to her, thanking her for the flower. You asked her about school and her siblings. You told her about your own children who were too young to attend a party like her. 
You were disappointed when her nanny came to collect her. She scolds the child for running away and bothering the President. 
Tucking the flower behind your ear, you blow the girl a kiss as she is carted off.
The rest of the night was dull as you acted as Coriolanus’s shadow. 
Coriolanus had just finished a speech on stage, you were walking back down the hallway to the party with him. You passed a few people running the events. They tried to talk to him, but he seemed in a rush. 
He turns off the direction of the party, and tugs you down an empty hallway. 
You ask him what he is doing as he checks the doors until he finds one that is opened and ushers you inside. It was a supply closest. Small and smelling slightly damp. 
He pushes you up against the wall, knocking over a broom and a bucket. 
“You’re such a good mother. Such a good little wife. I don’t tell you that enough,” he says. 
“Okay,” you respond, pushing back on his shoulders. 
“I love you so much.” He kisses you so hard, that your head is knocked painfully back into the cement wall. 
It reminded you of the harsh and needy kisses he used to give you as a Commander.
You feel his hands slide up your dress and grip the flesh of your butt. 
“Coriolanus, not here,” you beg. 
His lips go to your throat in slow, sexual kisses.
“I want another baby,” he requests. 
“Not here. Someone could find us.” 
“Not if you are quiet.” 
“Coryo,” You try. A bit too loud for this liking. He clamps a hand over your mouth, and shushes you with a hard look that tells you he was serious. 
“It would not look good if they found the President and First Lady fucking in a closet.”
He kneels on the floor in front of you, going under your dress and up your legs, bringing down your underwear. 
You feel him put his mouth on you, and you try to relax. It took you months to fall pregnant the last two times. This time wasn’t anything special. 
His fingers dig into the back of your thighs, keeping you close as he works. 
Soon a lapping sound is heard, and Coriolanus leaves your cunt with a kiss.
You try one more time to dissuade him. Telling him to wait until home. But he unbuckles his belt and hoists you up around his waist. 
Your arms circle his shoulders as he pins you to the wall.
You can feel how hard he is against your heat. He bucks up against your wetness in desperation before he lines himself up properly. 
You engulf him in your wetness as he thrusts his hips up into you. 
With no way to hold yourself up, you feel yourself sink and then be thrusted up into.
“Are you going to give me a baby?” He grunts.
He is fast and rough as he slams up into you. His words were heard but your mind was far from them.  
“Yeah?” He teases. His lips go to your neck again, trapping you head against the wall. 
He seemed to continuously hit the spot that you liked, no matter how you moved your hips. 
The pressure means you come too quickly. Coriolanus was nowhere close so would continue. 
You can’t help to groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. 
He reminds you to be quiet once more, and you bite his shoulder to stop the sounds you couldn’t stop coming. 
He knew you had come from the way you clenched around him. 
Taking the back of your neck, he leans you into his shoulder and wraps an arm around your waist. 
He delivers you to the floor, releasing you gently into the tight confines of the cluttered room.
“Think you can manage another one?” He asks. 
You shake your head ‘No’, your words failed you as he continued his brutal pace. 
“I think you could,” he states. 
He uses two fingers to circle your pearl as he drives into you.
The door had no lock. Anyone could open it and see you. 
You were being too loud. You knew you were. But he forced the sounds from you. Your whole body tingled under his touch, your legs shook with pleasure. 
He was not being entirely quiet himself. He grunted and shutters above you feeling his own end coming. 
You feel him twitch in your preceding his exploding into you. 
He beats you but doesn’t stop swirling his fingers, determined to have you finish again. 
You come too loudly causing Coriolanus to cover your mouth with an open palm and look to the door, expecting detection. 
His hand is pulled and with a kiss, Coriolanus pulls back on his ankles with a stupid grin. 
He uses your panties to clean up the excess cum from you before placing the underwear back on you. 
If you had any energy, you would have taken them back off but all you could do was lie there, watching him transform back into a respectable gentleman. 
“We have to get back out there before they send Peacekeepers looking for us.” 
He finishes tucking his shirt back into his pants before reaching down to help you to your feet. 
You’re a little wobbly at first but Coriolanus keeps a firm grip to keep you upright. 
You spend the rest of the fundraiser with damp panties and shaky legs which causes you to bump into Coriolanus as he stands next to you. 
The stupid grin never leaves his face, even in the car ride home. 
Your children are asleep when you arrive home. 
You leave them with a kiss, before going back to your room and rushing to beat Coriolanus to bed while he is occupied going through the messages left for him. 
He joins you in the shower but it’s quick and with the intention of going to bed. 
He talks about the night. Recalling things he enjoyed and disliked. 
He asks you what you think but you shrug. All Capitol events were the same to you. 
You finish your shower while Coriolanus washes his hair. Giving you time to dress and get into bed before him. 
You roll to your side, hoping that the supply closet tryst fulfilled him enough. 
You feel him as he moves in the bed to come over to your side, his arm wraps around your shoulder and his head rests against yours. 
“We should take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. I’ll have it cleared out.”
“Okay,” you reply, knowing that there wasn’t any other option. 
The zoo was large, and there were too many animals to see before nap time. 
Crassus got whiny and tired from all the walking and climbing on things. He demanded to be carried. Instead of using his words, he would scream when he got sick of looking at the same animal. 
Normally you would have returned home to put him down for a nap, but Coriolanus enjoyed having his son rest on his shoulder. Crassus was a mommy’s boy and very rarely wanted to be held by anyone else. 
It was not your first time at the zoo. You had taken Crassus while you were six months pregnant with Aurora. It still amazed you, however. You could spend hours just looking and learning about the animals, but Crassus was lucky to push a five hour awake period. 
It was a blessing to visit the penguins where the sound of the gentle flowing water, and cool air sent him to sleep on Coriolanus' shoulder. 
You pushed the pram that Aurora was asleep in as you and Coriolanus searched for a comfortable resting place.
Finding a canopy, you sit with your family in the shade. Coriolanus had successfully transferred Crassus from his shoulder to the bench with his head resting on his father's thigh. 
Coriolanus’s other leg went out to gently rock the pram with his expensive shoe. 
You lay back resting your eyes yourself. Crassus had woken you up from a nightmare. With him in your bed, you got very little sleep as he tossed and spread out. 
Coriolanus disturbs your peace by reaching out to place a hand on your stomach as if there was something already inside. 
“What do you think it will be?” he asks. 
“We don’t know there is anything in there.” 
Coriolanus had wanted you to take a test this morning but it was chaos trying to get the children ready for the day. 
“I don’t care what it is myself. I was thinking Marcellus for a boy, and Lillian for a girl”. 
You cry at the thought of being pregnant again. It was a horrible experience. It was uncomfortable, tiring, and you suffered great nausea all throughout the nine months. That's all before the recovery period while you run around after two other children.
“Hey,” his voice is soft and reassuring. He stops rocking the pram to reach his hand to yours. 
The hand that wasn’t captured by Coriolanus went to your mouth to quieten your blathering. You were always cautious about what the children saw.
“If it’s too much I’ll let you get a nanny to help during the day” he offers. 
You rip your hand out from under him in anger, “I don’t want a nanny.” 
You didn’t trust Capitol people to be around your children. Only when you were forced to where you parted from them. They were too young. They needed their mother. 
“You’re tired,” he pandered. His hand wraps around your shoulder to pull you down to his lap. You rest your head on his thigh like your son, and find your eyes shut by themselves. 
You feel his fingers itch your head until you are asleep. Coriolanus waits until your breath evens before returning to rock the pram with his hand. With his arm rested over his oldest child, and his hand lulling his baby girl to sleep, Coriolanus felt a swell of pride.  
His family slept under his protection and lead. Pamen had entered into a new golden age. All paths led him here. 
You woke to the sound of Aurona crying which woke and upset Crassus. 
On instinct, you shoot up from Coriolanus to retrieve your baby girl. She needed to be fed again, but Crassus was now rejecting Coriolanus’s hold, wanting to be picked up by you. 
You oblige him when his face starts to turn red from crying. You feel their tears on either side of your collarbones. Their screams rang in your ear. 
Coriolanus stretches his dead legs, slowly easing himself up to place a hand on Crassus' back.
“Let's get ice cream,” he bribes. 
Crasuss turns his head to look at his father and nods.
With a bright smile, Coriolanus claps his hands together before opening them wide, “Come to daddy?” He asks. 
You never let him get ice cream at the zoo. It was too close to nap time. So with the promise Crassus eagerly goes into his father's arms. 
At the ice cream shop you could feed Aurona but it took far longer than normal with the anxiety that you were pregnant with your third. Something told you that you were.
It was a boy. A gorgeous baby boy. Doll was your nickname for him, but Coriolanus officially names him Adrianus. He cried very little, and at six weeks old he slept through the night. He latched easily, and from 3 to 4 in the afternoon, he would laugh insatiably at everything. He was a dream child. You were very happy with him, despite his initial undesired conception. 
Life settled for a little bit as Coriolanus worked to quell a quiet rebellion brewing in the Districts. 
For a year Coriolanus was kept busy. His mind off expanding his family. 
For the moment he was happy with the three wonderful kids you had given him. Something you could share. Three young kids, five and under,  left you exhausted by the end of the day, yet when the day was over and the kids were asleep, Coriolanus demanded your attention. 
Coriolanus was not immune to jealousy even from his own kids. You had learnt to give him enough attention during the day when he was around but it only starved him off until night time. He rarely talked about work. Only upcoming events that concern you. He was more interested in you recounting every single thing the kids did. 
After having the kids hang off you all day, your least favorite thing to do was have Coriolanus all over you. But when it was his time, he followed you everywhere you went. Insisting that you sat on the couch with him for an hour. He didn’t feel like it was much, but you felt as if it was the last bit of energy zapped out of you. 
You normally got a break when Coriolanus returned home from work. He started early so normally he was home in the late afternoon. While you had lots of staff to help you with chores and cooking, you preferred to do it yourself. It gave you a routine that you could go auto-pilot on. 
From five to six every day you were in your kitchen while Coriolanus watched the children. Capitol food took some getting used to. Half of the meat you had never even seen before. Coriolanus organized cooking lessons to help you as a Mother’s Day gift. 
Dinner was often followed by free play if they weren’t too messy, allowing you time to feed Adrianus. It was important that he had your full attention as you fed as he was so quiet that you might miss a cue of his discomfort. 
Crassus sat coloring at the kitchen table while you were in the kitchen trying to feed your youngest boy, Adrianus, who had just turned one
Coriolanus sat next to his son watching as your daughter Aurora showed off her expensive ball gown that her father had brought her simply because she wanted it. ‘No’ was not in Coriolanus’s vocabulary when it came to his children. 
He held out accessories in his palm for her as she explained what they were and where they went. 
Despite ruling a country with an iron fist, at home, it was you who disciplined the children. He let them run wild, while you tried to raise them to be respectable, and moral children. Your work mostly paid off. They were good children. 
Aurora having free reign over her father and older brother, who both bent over backwards to please her, was spoiled. Her tantrums were something you were yet to stop, but she was sweet when not disappointed which was more often than not. 
She only had to cry and Coriolanus would pick her up, giving her what she wanted. It annoyed you to no end. If your marriage was equal, you would push more for him to discipline the kids, but Coriolanus only ever gave you the illusion of partnership. 
“Mummy, how did you meet Daddy?” Crassus asks out of nowhere as he draws. 
The small spoon in your hand drops to the floor as memories that you had buried spring up. The stalking, the harassment, the loss of freedom. You remember the late nights as your mother cried out from pain from the flogging that he ordered. 
“Mummy used to own a cake shop, and Daddy would go by every morning before University to buy one.” Coriolanus answered for you. He reaches out and brushes Crassus' hair lovingly. 
“Dad, you can’t have cake for breakfast!” Aurora exclaimed. 
“Oh, but I did! Your mother would make them special for me.” 
You close your eyes remembering the words, ‘Can you make me some more of those oat bars.’ A demand, not a gesture on your behalf. You remember the hard wall behind you as he pressed you there. Just the thought of it brought your heart back into your throat as if it was happening all over again.
“She doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast!” Aurora complained. Tears sprang to her eyes causing Crassus to push a lollypop you had given him for eating his dinner across the table, trying to fight off his sister's tears. 
Coriolanus picks her up from the floor and places her on his knee so she can cry into his arms. 
“Darling, these are special cakes. Ones you give to someone you want to marry.” 
You remember the cakes you used to make Edmund. Edmund, you hadn’t thought about him in years, yet the scar on your heart never healed. 
“Not growing little girls.” Still, your daughter cried, which displeased Coriolanus. 
He rises from the table with Aurora in his arms and heads into the fridge. 
“Let's see if Mum baked any for you”. 
Your youngest son begins to cry from hunger which snaps you out of your spiraling. With your daughter receiving a cupcake and your son resuming feeding, the room is calm once more. But your hand shook as your mind flooded with memories of Commander Snow. 
Moments later, Crassus presented you with a picture of two stick figures surrounded by out-of-proportion cupcakes. You stared at it with the weight of your baby resting on your hip. 
Just like that Coriolanus had rewritten history. Commander Snow was a distant dream. District 12 a vague thought. Lucy Gray no longer haunted the woods. No longer made Coriolanus Snow the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. The war scar had faded. He had fixed history’s mistakes. 
He had taken his rightful place as President of Pamen. Only you were left to remember him as Commander Snow. 
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The end!
Thank you all for reading, and coming along for the journey. Especially to those who commented and motivated me to write. This story would not have been complete without you.
A HUGE thank you to @hotline-to-hell for editing the work, and restructuring the mess.
And a HUGE thank you to @thaleleah and (who i assume is the same) anon who took the time out to encourage me with their long, and hilarious feedback.
Hope to see you all in my other works!
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worseforwords · 7 months
Text
The Arrangement
(Alessia Russo x Reader)
Chapter I of Marshmallow
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“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”
You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.
Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”
The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.
Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”
“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”
“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 
“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.
A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.
The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?
"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.
“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”
You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.
“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”
Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.
“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 
“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.
“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 
Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.
You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.
“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.
The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”
Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.
Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”
Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.
The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.
The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.
She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”
Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.
“Too stiff!”
“More like you mean it!”
“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”
You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”
As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.
“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”
That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.
As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.
“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”
“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.
“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 
“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 
“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.
The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 
Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”
Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.
By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.
“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.
You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”
The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.
As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.
Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 
“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?
The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?
You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 
“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”
“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.
“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.
You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.
Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.
-> Chapter II
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