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codevassie · 4 years

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i've got a request! prinxiety fantasy au. roman became a prince after making a deal with a magical creature (that can be a side but also can remain unnamed, whatever works for you). the deal was: roman would become prince but in exchange, the creature would take his true love when roman would meet them. so roman was always careful not to fall in love with anyone. that worked until he met virgil. aaand i leave the rest up to you! i hope this makes sense lol

CV: Sorry it’s so long and also not long enough and also really late. Thank you so much for your patience! My mind would not stop coming up with ideas for this fic but I wrangled it in enough to get this out. Hope you like it, An!

CW: Weapons, Trauma, Injury [Edit: Angst, Unhappy Ending]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Prince Roman was kind and fair to all who knew him. It was uncanny to his citizens how Disney their prince was. He glowed in all ways–always smiling, exceedingly handsome, eyes gleaming with pride.

He was also a bachelor, sworn to it almost like a monk. He loved to flirt and would dance with many a handsome man; Roman was no stranger to romance and collected kisses like precious stones. He was not one for staying with one person, sweetly turning down those who came back, wanted more. There was guilt in his eyes, but the prince never wavered.

He was determined to rule on his own, with only advisors to lean on and citizens to give his love. This was something that had never happened before, but their kingdom had also never had a prince like Roman before.

Since the day their prince had been crowned heir to the throne by the childless king and queen, things had been very different in their kingdom. Royalty did not have to be blood, and a king did not need a queen, or any spouse at all.

Roman did not want to marry. And no one would have batted an eye at this–but the prince did not seem to want anything at all. Full of love, he had no one to give it. Friendly, but lacked friends. It was a constant source of gossip around the castle–why their beloved prince insisted on being alone.

But the prince knew what he was doing. Roman knew well the dangers of growing close to others.

He didn’t regret the decision he made. As prince, he could make a difference; he had somewhere he belonged. A mother and father who cared. Citizens he adored, and adored him in turn. People to care for, to fight for. Roman now had more than he ever hoped in his once hopeless life.

Most importantly, Roman had his brother back. That was worth more than anything Roman could have gained or given. Worth more than his very life.

So, no. He didn’t regret it. If he had the choice, he’d always go back and face those wild eyes, those scales and wicked lies for the chance to have this.

Whoever he’d meant to love one day would have to find someone else.

-/-

“How are you today, Remus?“

Remus hummed. Roman knew that translated to ‘not very well.’

“Okay,” he said calmly. He moved over into the brightly lit room to where his brother sat at the window. Roman sat across from Remus and said nothing else. Today wasn’t a talking day.

So Roman sat and let his nerves calm, his mind wander like his brother’s must have been. He couldn’t imagine what sort of things Remus saw–flashbacks from the hills and the caves and the fear. Roman grew restless, and he couldn’t imagine how Remus did it for days on end, jolted into another reality that existed in his head, in the past.

He passed a lot of his days like this, sitting quietly by his brother’s side. Probably not enough though. Never enough to help. But it was hard to balance his time now that he was prince, always something more to do, something he could do to help, to plan, to sign, to consider. It was a lot.

But at least they weren’t terrified every day would be their last.

At least Remus was with him again, safe.

“I miss Dee,” Remus surprised Roman by speaking up. Roman looked over, but his brother hadn’t moved. His gaze was towards the hills.

There was nothing Roman could say to that. He stood reluctantly, taking a glance towards the horizon himself, before stepping back. “Sorry I can’t stay very long today.” It had only been twenty minutes Roman noted by the clock on the mantle, but Remus didn’t seem phased. “I’ll come eat dinner with you tonight, though,” Roman offered. Still, nothing. “Alright. Bye, Remus.”

Roman stepped out, careful to not make any loud noises as he shut the door. Days like this were the reason Remus’ room was far away from the hustle and bustle of the castle. The noise was too much for him. There were still plenty of people around to attend to him though, to make sure he didn’t get up to too much trouble during the times he was lucid.

That didn’t stop Roman from stepping away and quietly knocking his head on the opposite wall. Forehead supporting him, Roman sighed, trying to piece himself back together. Once he had built himself up, able to give a winning smile and a confident gait, Roman picked himself up and squared his shoulders.

A prince had very little time to spare already, and he had used what he had to visit with his brother.

Winding through the halls, Roman made his way back to the front study, where his advisor and a handful of guards waited. When he opened the doors, he shot them all his winning smile. “Are we all ready?”

It took them no time at all to get to town, then just a little further to the square, which was under construction. It was a smaller project, but one that Roman loved: a park, with room for community gardening, a playground with outdoor instruments, a couple pieces of exercise equipment, and a small stage for community theater.

It was important to him, but it was something he rarely had the time to see into fruition. There was more pressing matters in the kingdom that Roman had to oversee.: discussions to meditate, economic policies to study, corruption to dig into. When Roman became a prince, he’d known it would be a tough job, but he had never expected what seemed like such a nice kingdom on the outside to have so much else on the inside.

It was exhausting, but this park was where Roman hoped to make a positive influence. He barely had the time for it, but he made the time for it. It was usually what kept him awake at night in his office, going over budgets and blueprints.

He hadn’t been to the site for a month.

When the carriage pulled up, Roman jumped out, guards already on his tail. He didn’t wait for them, though, striding straight towards the ring of architects and construction crew at one side. A quick glance around told Roman they were making decent headway on the tiny amphitheater.

Looking back, he took stock in what he would be dealing with. The kind architect was there, so he’d have to do his best to steer clear. Roman was a sucker for nice guys. The smart one was there too. Damn it; double the threat.

“Hello, Shelby, Logan, David, Patton, Christie,” he greeted the ones he knew by name. “How is everything going?”

Shelby, the team leader, stepped forward, giving a kind smile. “Moving forward at a considerable pace, my prince,” she said, and, from there, they dived in. The architects pointed to blueprints and talked about estimated times for finishing different aspects, as well as possible obstacles and needed materials. They talked for half an hour before they were talking in circles again, and Roman knew he needed to draw a line and make a retreat.

“It sounds like you all are doing splendidly and have things well under control. I would say continue forward with how you’re doing. I trust you to make the right calls.” His smile was wide, and he was beginning to feel the line of business and friendly failing.

All Roman wanted to do was share jokes with Patton. Listen to Logan tell him about the book he was reading. Even hear about Shelby’s family–though she was hardly a threat to the curse inside Roman. Still, Roman felt wrong for staying around, for getting near anyone with the danger he posed.

Roman needed to get somewhere safe. He needed just a breath of fresh air–somewhere without pretense, where he wasn’t constantly tottling between unnecessary rudeness and letting his traitorous heart do what it does and fall far too quickly.

He had always fallen fast and hard, always one for all or nothing. Never at a mere glance, no. He may be a romantic, but love at first sight simply wasn’t real. Deep longing at first sight was something Roman was prone to, though.

But Roman was careful. Never would he let an innocent soul pay for his deeds. If the price he had to pay was his love, then he would simply never fall in love.

And, since love at first sight wasn’t a thing, Roman could simply stay away from anyone he might have liked. If Logan’s smart words made him blush, if Patton’s puns made him giggle-

Off Roman went. If he didn’t stay around them, he couldn’t fall in love with them. Easy enough.

That may have been a reason Roman rarely made his way to the park construction or spent too much time at any of his projects. He cycled through advisors. He exchanged polite greetings with guards and nothing else. He was an amiable prince, who reached out to his citizens, but he couldn’t afford to be too friendly, to get attached.

He knew he could be better. Without this fear, he could be so much better. He’d be friends with everyone he knew, not acquaintances. He’d be a personal ruler, not a distant one.

He couldn’t risk the lives of his citizens though.

So, at the nearest chance, Roman ducked away. The others invited him to coffee, but he declined.

Instead, he went somewhere he’d normally never go. He marched into the library, waltzed straight up to the most infuriating person he knew.

Not even Roman was hopeless enough to fall for Virgil.

“My prince,” the librarian greeted lazily, not even standing from his slumped position across the desk. “What can I do for you today?“

He picked up a pen and scrawled across a paper, deigning to not even look Roman in the eye. Whatever pleasantness Roman had felt upon seeing a familiar, unexpectant face, soured at the blatant rudeness.

This callousness was what had sealed the deal for Roman in the first place though. The absolute zero percent chance that Roman could like, much less love, this man. Roman never thought he could hate one of his own citizens, but this guy… He was the worst.

Roman could have never fallen in love with someone so… Virgil. So condescending and sarcastic and pessimistic. Virgil brought with him a stormy cloud of hatred everywhere he went. The mere thought of being around him was deplorable.

Which made him perfect.

“I just came to see your lovely face, my chemical woe-mance,” Roman said breezily. He had taken to maliciously flirting with the library assistant. It satisfied both his need to flirt with someone and his abhorrence of the man’s face.

And tone.

And personality.

And the way he pointed out every security detail his guards had missed by walking in there.

And how he always pointed out the measures Roman was slow to take with his policies, and ones that he missed, redirecting Roman’s attention to needed areas.

And when his hair fell in his eyes because, damn it, Roman wasn’t blind.

And when he laughed at something because he wasn’t horrible all the time and those were the times Roman panicked the most because shit did he mess up by letting himself talk to Virgil so much-

And his fashion sense was also horrible, so there.

But, of course, Roman was above such things. If the gloomy broody wanted to stoop, Roman would not-

“Forget how to say your own name again?” Virgil asked, and Roman stopped in his tracks, shooting him a confused look. “Hate to break it to you, but Roman doesn’t have a W.”

Roman’s face lit up red and he straightened faster than a cat struck by lightning.

“I am your prince,” Roman said, hands curling into fists. The guards behind him didn’t react, however. By this point, they were all used to Roman and Virgil’s arguing.

They thought it was ‘banter.’ Roman often reminded them it was a verbal battle of wits. They asked why he kept coming back.

He never answered that.

“I don’t need reminding every time you’re here, my prince,” Virgil rolled his eyes. It was ironic how the honorific fit in his mouth, like a bad taste.

“Don’t call me that,” Roman snapped. Virgil raised a brow.

“What do you expect me to call you then?” he asked. “Your excellency? Your highness? General pain in my ass?”

“You make all of those sound like ‘general pain in my ass.’” Roman shot back with fire.

“Then what?” Virgil crossed his arms.

Roman spoke without thinking. “My name.”

One of the guards coughed behind him. Virgil looked stunned.

“You want me to call you…” he said, and all anger had dissipated. If Roman had known this was all it would take to knock Virgil off his high horse, he would have done it so much sooner.

“Yes,” Roman said, feeling awfully proud of himself. “Call me Roman.”

Another cough behind him. What was it with the guards today? He hoped no one was coming down with anything.

“Roman?” Virgil asked, and it was said quickly, like he was still shocked at everything going on. This, however, is where Roman realized his mistake.

His name on Virgil’s tongue did not, in fact, sound like ‘general pain in my ass.‘

His name sounded….

Softer.

Sweeter.

Like a melody he’d never heard,

And one he’d kill to hear again.

Roman was suddenly hit with a sadness so unmistakable it was as if it had always lived in him. Something that felt lonely, something that felt like… goodbye.

Goodbye to this. Goodbye to the only person he had left that saw him as something that wasn’t a prince, or a stranger.

Oh gods, not Virgil too.

Roman straightened up, clearing his throat suddenly. “Um, yes?” he said, voice coming out squeaky. He cleared it again. “I mean, yes. Yes. Of course. If you’re going to insist on butchering everything else…”

“Might as well butcher the real thing?” Virgil asked, and he finally broke out of his shock to snicker. Roman’s heart thumped.

Fuck.

“Yeah, well. I actually have to go now, but it was nice seeing you and-”

“Nice seeing me?” Virgil asked, thrown off guard by Roman’s sudden departure. Roman hadn’t been there five minutes, but he had to get out of there.

“As ever. Terrible to see you as always, hot topic, and, if you’d just excuse me-” Roman was backing away, making his way to the door. He assumed the guards would follow.

“Hot topic…” Virgil seemed to be asking, but Roman didn’t give an answer.

“See ya!” were his final words before he ducked out.

Roman paid no mind to the knowing glances his guards shared behind him as he rushed off to the carriage.

He could only think of the heart in his chest.

And the noose it could lasso around Virgil.

-/-

“It’s not Virgil, right?” Roman asked pacing around his brother’s room. “Anyone but Virgil, surely.”

Remus continued to look out the window, mind probably elsewhere.

“It wouldn’t be. Virgil is… Virgil.” Roman shook his head. “He’s Virgil.”

“Virgil?” Remus spoke up, but he didn’t look at Roman. Maybe he was present, just a bit.

Roman nodded, pacing again to the other side of the room. “I can’t see him again. That’s it. It’s too dangerous. Even if there’s absolutely no way I’d fall for that guy, I can’t risk it.”

Remus turned Roman’s way, eyes looking troubled. Roman’s mind was spinning out of control.

“But it couldn’t be Virgil. I wouldn’t fall for him. I can still talk to him. It’ll be fine, right?”

Roman paused, thinking through his words before groaning.

“Oh my gods, I want to talk to him!” he lamented, then sat down heavily on his brother’s bed. Remus continued to watch him, looking for all the world like there was a puzzle in front of him, very close to being solved.

“Remus, what am I going to do?” Roman asked, covering his face. “I like Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Remus mumbled.

“I can’t ever see him again. This is the end. We were never even friends! He was the asshole in the library. That’s it. That’s all he’ll ever be. And, somehow, I like him. What the fuck, heart? What the actual fuck?”

“Virgil,” Remus repeated, brows furrowing. Something was there, but Roman was too distracted to consider it.

“Gosh, but I can see it now. He’s got the warmest brown eyes to go with his shit personality. He’s so sarcastic. He actually makes me laugh. How dare he?! How dare he make me like him and all his assholeness?”

Roman stood from the bed. One look Remus’ way and he immediately regretted everything.

“Rem? What’s wrong?” he rushed to his brother, who had the most distressed look on his face, fingers sparking green. Roman folded his hands over them, not minding the slight sting. It was better than someone walking in and seeing the magic. “Remus?” Roman asked again, kneeling before his brother.

Remus blinked. Looked down at his hands and frowned. “Sorry, Ro,” he said, then looked back at the window. Whatever he’d been thinking, it was gone. Roman couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.

One second of lucidity and Roman was glad it was gone. What kind of brother was he? Watching Remus look out the window again, lost to everything but the hills past the kingdom, Roman felt a deep sinking loss in his chest.

But, with that look that’d been on Remus’ face… how could he not be relieved?

He sighed again. Roman did that a lot in this room. He wished he could help it, for Remus’ sake.

But Remus probably didn’t hear it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he breathed, words lost to his brother. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Roman retracted his hands, absently noting the singe marks across his palms. He’d wear some gloves to cover them.

“Sorry,” he repeated. The word rang in his head, begging to be said again and again, until his sins were carried off with them, somewhere far away in the wind of those words. “Sorry.”

-/-

The next time Roman visited the park, he didn’t go to the library. However, it seemed he didn’t have to.

“Thank you so much, kiddo!” Roman absently heard from Patton as he scanned over some of the construction plans. “I can’t believe I forgot this.”

Roman heard one of his guards cough, stifling what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Funny, they usually only did that when-

“No problem, Pat,” a deep, vaguely uncomfortable sounding voice replied, and Roman shot straight up. There was another noise that was definitely a laugh this time, but he didn’t pay mind to it. His eyes shot to the interaction happening not five feet from him.

Virgil.

He was standing a bit slouched, hands stuffed into his pockets and nodding along to Patton’s excited gibbering. It was sort of adorable, how patient Virgil was, the way he hid his smile when Patton punned, how out of place he seemed to feel, but comfortable around his friend.

Roman hadn’t known Virgil and Patton were friends. That was adorable.

Okay, Roman should really stop thinking of Virgil as adorable. Soon. Now.

But his eyeshadow was slightly smudged–probably from wiping it on accident–and that was adorable too.

No. Stopping now.

Roman dipped his head back down, boring his eyes into the blueprints. He absorbed none of it, but he acted the part like a champ. Looking busy sure came handy when a prince wanted to avoid people. You couldn’t argue that a prince wasn’t doing important work.

Well, perhaps a lesser prince. But everyone knew how seriously Roman took his job (whether he lived up to expectation or not. Virgil saw past that. Virgil pointed out exactly where Roman lacked…. but he also commented on the good things too. He’d said how much safer it was to walk home lately–how the children were excited about the park–how some patrons of the library complained about the tax increases, but Virgil argued with them about the necessities of the kingdom; all the community works, roads paved, safety measures).

“Ro?” Patton asked, and, even if it weren’t for his voice and bubbly nature, Roman would have known it was him. Patton was the only one on the construction crew that had taken him up on his offer to not use ‘my prince’ every time they referred to him.

“Hm?” Roman asked, pretending to be busy. He saw Patton from the corner of his eye, dragging another person by his side–no doubt Virgil. Roman swallowed harshly.

“This is my friend Virgil. Sorry to interrupt work and all, but I try to introduce him to everyone around here. He doesn’t get around too often and-”

“Pat!” Virgil hissed beside him, and Roman couldn’t help it. He looked up.

And they locked eyes.

Virgil’s cheeks were a dull pink, furiously trying to escape the bounds of the pale foundation he’d applied. For a moment, they were suspended there, Virgil and Roman just looking at each other.

Then, Virgil looked away. “Patton, you can’t just drag me around everywhere.”

Patton, the dear, had the good grace to look sheepish. “I just thought you’d want to meet the prince is all.”

“We’ve already met,” Roman said, against the wishes of his panicked nerves. It felt like something he wanted to keep for himself, something he could hold secret and close to his chest. He forced the words out though. Surely there was no valid reason to keep it secret.

Virgil flinched as Patton whipped around to face him. “Really?!”

He shifted a bit on his feet, and Roman noticed how considerably less confident he was outside the library. Maybe it was the new space, or the unknown gazes, but it worried Roman how much smaller Virgil appeared outside his familiar walls.

While Patton excitedly talked to Virgil about this new development, Roman was able to take a second to himself. It was Roman’s first time around him knowing how he felt about Virgil–without the panic of last time, mind spinning with Do I like him? Do I like him? Do I like him? Roman could examine those feelings up close here, scrutinizing them for what they were. He definitely liked Virgil, that much was definite by then, but how much? Roman fell quickly, but, as long as he was even still a bit afloat, it was fine. Virgil was safe.

And Roman understood with relief that this was indeed the case. He wasn’t in love with Virgil. It was still frightening how easily he’d fallen in deep like with the man, but Roman could remedy the situation. It just… took a bit of… severing of their relationship. Just a dash of distancing, a pinch of avoidance and rigid politeness.

It was less than a minute that Roman had to think on this, Patton and Virgil’s conversation ending abruptly when Virgil started to get visibly overwhelmed. That worried Roman too, but it only seemed to embarrass Virgil.

“Virge? Buddy?” Patton asked, but Virgil’s red face shook back and forth.

“It’s fine, Pat. Let’s just moveonrightnow,” Virgil spoke without a lot of breath, words coming out quick. He was different outside the library, like he was constantly afraid of… something. He was jumpy, and Roman was sure that if someone were to sneak up on him right now, purposefully or not, they would be socked in the jaw.

“Yes,” Roman spoke up, seeing his opportunity. “I’m afraid I’ve actually ran out of time here, but we got a lot done here today. Great job, all of you.”

“You’re leaving?” Patton asked, looking disappointed.

And Roman realized what he’d tried to avoid for so long. Patton was cute. He was funny and kind and made Roman feel like the world had light. But Roman really had nothing to be scared of. He looked at Logan too, clever and full of passion for his work and interests, and thought the same. He’d been avoiding all the wrong people–people who could’ve been his friends.

So to Patton Roman gave a sad smile of his own. He gave his excuses–the many duties of a prince, how busy things have been lately, that he really should let them get back to work instead of hovering over their shoulders so often–he was just a prince, after all.

It all paled to the real reason, nestled deep in his chest where he hoped no one would look, see his obvious lie.

Roman couldn’t be near Virgil.

Too risky.

-/-

The thing with falling for someone–it doesn’t stop when you don’t see them.

What was the saying? Distance makes the heart grow fonder?

That saying existed because days without those you’re infatuated with just make you think about them more. And Roman, the chronic dreamer he was, could not stop thinking about Virgil. He dreamed in his sleep about pushing the hair from Virgil’s face, curling it around his ears and leaning down for a gentle kiss. He day-dreamed about Virgil in his library, slouched over his desk, waiting for patrons and passing the day in boredom.

Roman thought of his snarky quips, eyerolls, insistent gestures when he was trying to tell Roman something. Those milliseconds of a softer look that Roman would ignore, trying to convince himself he loathed Virgil, so he wouldn’t have to go away.

He realized now how too late it was.

Virgil’s laugh was stuck in his ears–Virgil’s nervous voice outside the library–Virgil’s stories of friends he’d never see again, growing up in a distant place.

And Roman hadn’t realized how much of himself he’d given as well. Virgil had been an ear to Roman’s rants, a backboard to spring off horrible ideas. Virgil could be ruthless, and Roman could be idyllic, but, somewhere in there, it actually worked. He’d told Virgil about spreading himself thin, about the demands of a prince he hadn’t expected when the king and queen had adopted him. He told him about how much he cared, cared so much, about the people of this kingdom, even while he’d only been there for three years himself.

There was so much, now that Roman considered it. And still so much he wanted to share. He’d never told Virgil about his brother–no one knew about Remus. He wasn’t fit to be in the public eye. That much scrutiny and pressure, after everything he’d been through, would destroy him.

But he found himself wanting to tell Virgil. Found that he trusted him with the information.

And he wanted to tell Virgil about where he and his brother grew up, about the night he woke up and Remus wasn’t by his side, and it took two years of searching and loneliness to find him and save him. Roman wanted to tell Virgil his favorite color was red, that his favorite stories as a kid were about knights, not princes, that he spent his free time–or what freetime he used to have–writing poetry, and he had a secret love for theater that he’d never had the opportunity to explore.

Roman felt his heart pulling pulling pulling. It wouldn’t rest, wouldn’t relinquish the hold it had over him, would not forget him- him-

Virgil.

His heart was a selfish thing. It stuck like glue to those who didn’t want it. It kept its love in a cage, never to let go.

But Roman had to stop thinking of him. It would only lead to heartbreak. It would only lead to Virgil’s doom.

That should make it easier on his heart–knowing the person it longed for was at risk for its choice–but nothing did sway it. It was up to Roman to wrangle it in, suppress, push it down down down.

A sound at the door of his office snapped Roman out of his thoughts–spiralling, an hourly occurrence at this rate, sending him straight to a world far away, spinning in purple irises. The door creaked open, and there stood an odd sight.

“Remus?” Roman asked, concerned. He was already standing, walking around the desk and across the room. “Is everything alright? Why are you on this side of the castle?”

Remus was very far from his room, and the castle was pretty confusing. It was a surprise his brother had found him at all.

“Virgil,” was all Remus said, like it held all the answers he’d ever been looking for. Roman paused, eyebrows furrowing.

“What about him?”

“It’s him.”

“What?” Roman asked, and Remus reached out, grabbed his hand. Before he knew it, Roman was being pulled along. Remus was leading them down the corridor, looking more sure of himself than Roman had seen since they were kids. “Remus, what are you doing? Where are we going?”

Remus didn’t answer him. In fact, Roman was thrown into even more confusion when he was steered into a random room at the end of the corridor, his brother huffing as he shut the door behind them. “Walking takes too long,” he seemed to be realizing. His hand was glowing and, when he reached out for Roman again, it was a blink of an eye before they were standing somewhere completely new.

“Remus, what the hell?” Roman asked, retracting his hand. “You shouldn’t use your magic like that! Anyone could see you.”

But Remus wasn’t listening. Was he ever? Instead, he was looking around. “Not where I would have picked.” He was sounding… like himself. Roman stared, wide-eyed. If he wasn’t so confused, he’d be elated. He’d long since thought getting his brother back to any normalcy–or whatever was normalcy for Remus–was impossible.

“Who’s there?” a voice interrupted his thoughts, carrying across the library stacks. Roman recognized it and cursed internally. Why had Remus taken them there?

Slowly, Roman put up his hands and crept out of the small alcove Remus had taken them to, ready to come up with an explanation for their sudden appearance on the fly. “Do not be afraid,” Roman said, as any prince would. He stood in the open and found Virgil’s gaze. All Virgil had to protect him were his own fists–not the best tactic, Roman thought. Then again, it was only the other day that Roman had been afraid Virgil would sock the nearest person.

Still, just his fists didn’t seem like a great defense against swords or knives or any number of weapons a burglar could have. There was a pang in Roman’s heart as he thought of what might have happened if it wasn’t just him and Remus in there. Virgil would have been defenseless.

As realization dawned on Virgil’s face, they stood at a stand still, both almost afraid to move. When Virgil’s eyes drifted to his raised fists–loose, not really fists at all, who had taught Virgil to fight?–he dropped them like hot coals, stuffing them in his pockets.

“Fuck, Roman, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Virgil said, and Roman knew he shouldn’t be focusing on this–but Virgil had said his name again, and his heart was singing.

“My dearest apologies,” Roman bowed, and, going by the weirded out look on Virgil’s face, that was not of norm between them. He supposed they had never been quite civil with each other–even at the beginning. “I wanted to show my brother the library and you weren’t at the front desk, so we just came in.”

“I’ve been at the front desk this whole time,” Virgil said, not defensive, but confused. Well, at least Virgil wasn’t in a bad mood.

“Funny. We didn’t see you.”

“Wait wait wait,” Virgil said, backing up a second. “You said brother?”

Shit.

Looked like Roman would have to explain that sooner than he’d thought. Or, really, at all. Wanting to tell Virgil and telling him had been on two separate lists entirely. Roman wasn’t actually supposed to be talking to Virgil at all.

“Okay, so-” Roman went to start, but he was caught off by a twin set of gasps, one shortly after the other. The first had come from behind him, so that’s where he looked.

“It is you,” Remus said. Roman’s eyes widened, finally catching on to what his brother had been trying to tell him.

“Wait, do you know each other?”

“Remus?” Virgil’s reply answered that question well enough. Roman turned back to him, eyes darting between the two. Virgil sputtered, “What- How-”

“It’s too late,” Remus mumbled. It sounded a bit more like he had over the past year–less like himself, but his eyes were present; he looked to be considering something–something he didn’t seem to favor. “It was a trap.”

“A trap?” Roman asked. “What do you mean? A trap for who? Who’s trapping?”

“Remus, what the fuck? How are you here? How did you get away?” Virgil asked, walking closer, but not too close, like there was still a part of him that couldn’t believe what was in front of him.

“Get away?” Roman said, pieces further slipping into place. He didn’t like where this was going.

“What about Dee?”

“Dee…” Roman mumbled, the name familiar in his ears. I miss Dee, Remus had said. I miss Dee I miss Dee I miss Dee…

“It’s too late,” Remus repeated. “Of course it was you.”

Then, the room erupted into chaos.

-/-

Books flew, shelves rocked, windows clattered. From the corners of his eyes, Roman could see flashes of purple and green. Past the wind in his ears, he heard vague shouts from Virgil and a round of fuckfuckfuckfuckfucks from Remus. He couldn’t recall if he was saying anything himself, but he knew what he was feeling. Scared.

Roman had no idea what was happening, but, from the flashes of light, he deduced it must have been magic. This made him turn toward his brother, suddenly scared that all of this had gotten to him. Being outside the castle, some place unfamiliar, not to mention Remus had always been kind of a loose cannon with his magic–it could have caused Remus to panic.

But one look at him and Roman knew his brother wasn’t the one doing it. He turned to Virgil, remembering what he’d been saying, how he’d known Remus, how he’d raised his hands in a stance that made no sense in traditional fighting–but, with magic?

Purple sparks flew across Virgil’s skin, like they were doing on Remus too, but his eyes weren’t aglow. He wasn’t doing it either.

What was happening?

Then, abruptly, it stopped.

Shelves balanced back to their places and books dropped to the floor, lifeless. It was all they could do to just stand there before movement caught Roman’s eye at the top of one of the shelves.

Someone sat there, legs folded elegantly over one another where they balanced precariously. Roman recognized the one glowing eye peering down at them, the scaly hands, the knowing smirk.

“What a lovely reunion,” she purred. Roman was stricken, fear clenching his gut. Instinctively, however, he stepped forward in front of Remus and Virgil. He watched as her eyes traveled over each of them, finally landing behind Roman’s left shoulder, lips curling further into her face. “I was hoping it would be you.”

“How- How did you-” Virgil stuttered, but his voice died out. Roman narrowed his eyes, something protective overpowering his fear.

“You should not be here,” Roman stated.

“But, my prince,” she said, “We made a deal.”

“A deal that hasn’t come to fruition,” he said.

“I see someone’s still in denial,” the woman leered. “A witch’s curse knows all, though. You can’t scam the Dragon Witch of her hoard, my prince.” The way she said ‘my prince’ infuriated him, but nothing like Virgil’s had. The Dragon Witch said it like it was nothing, like it was delectable and sweet and hers to keep.

“What is she talking about?” Virgil asked, and Roman turned. Instead of scared, he now looked confused. He was watching the two of them, apprehensive, but ready to fight. His hands were up again in those loose fists, purple sparking off of them. Magic. Virgil had magic. “You made a deal with the witch?”

“Not that he had much choice.” The witch shrugged. It seemed casual, despite the manic glee in her eyes. “I was going to kill him and keep Remus. But he wanted his brother, and he got to be prince of a kingdom! Fair trade, if you ask me.”

“It’s not fair,” Remus said, and the witch seemed to remember he was there. “You can’t take him-”

“Shut up, Remus,” she said offhandedly and Remus flinched. Rage filled Roman, and he stomped further toward the witch.

“Don’t you dare-”

“Don’t I dare what, sweetie?” she asked, folding her legs up onto the bookshelf with her, where Roman couldn’t reach. He was ready to topple the whole shelf when her words caught him. “I’m only here for what I’m due. I was hoping you’d choose Virgil.”

“What?” he asked, and his voice echoed. He turned around and saw Virgil’s ghostly face, mouth open, having spoken at the same time.

“There’s so many possibilities, you know,” she said and sighed like she was bored. “There’s some realities where you fall for the architects, but there were quite a few where we’d end up here and that was certainly a risk I was willing to take. So glad it paid off.”

“But I’m not-” Roman protested, and when he was cut off again he felt ready to pull his sword. It would do nothing against her magic–something he knew well–but she was really getting to him.

“Not in love? Please,” the Dragon Witch scoffed. “It’s not my problem you haven’t realized it yet.”

“Wait!” a voice suddenly tore through their conversation, and Roman looked back at Virgil, something tightening his gut. Virgil looked simultaneously angry and afraid and lost. “Hold on for a second. What the fuck is going on?”

With a grace that shouldn’t have belonged to someone so wicked, the witch floated down from the bookshelf, jumping right over Roman and landing in front of Virgil. Virgil seemed to have masked everything in those few seconds, standing defiant and tall before the woman. It mystified Roman. It was nothing he had ever seen before–nothing like Virgil’s comfortable confidence in the library. Virgil lowered his hands, appearing defenseless and unafraid under her manic gaze.

“Long story,” she said, tossing her head side to side. “But I’ll tell you the ending if you want. My little happily ever after… minus dear Remus over there. I’d rather have all three of you but Remus turned weak. This. This was the outcome I was betting on.”

She leaned in, centimeters from Virgil’s face and anyone else might have missed the minute flinch in the man’s body, but Roman saw–tuned into it. Virgil’s eyes were hard. He said nothing.

Even as he was sentenced to his doom–to a doom brought to him because of Roman–because of a heart he couldn’t control–because Roman had signed away another’s life–a life that wasn’t Roman’s to give–a life Roman hadn’t yet met–that he was destined to love and hate and damn forever.

And it’d been a trap.

“Virgil, my long lost terror, you belong to me again. The End.”

#sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts creativity #ts anxiety #ts #tw weapons #tw trauma #tw injury #minor edits: realized the italics didn't copy over #but that's fixed #also i'm going to lose my shit if people don't stop walking behind me while i have writing on my screen #i have an allergic reaction to people seeing my writing when i'm not ready for them to #which for irl people is next to never #requests #tw angst #tw unhappy ending #ahhcc

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widowshaze · 2 years

Text

i wish i were… | n. romanoff & w. maximoff

pairing: natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff

summary: wishing she was the brunette perched atop the redheads lap was all wanda could think of since that one fateful night that changed everything.

warnings: 18+ minors dni! cursing, angst, cheating, a bit toxic if you ask me, mentions of smut, and if you see anything else let me know!

word count: 4k

authors note: well, well , well, and what do we have here? the first post in almost a month? a wandanat post to be exact, and coming back with a banger, a banger of a hesrt break because let me tell you, damn, it hurt rereading this to edit it, i wish you best of luck with your trek ahead, happy reading <3

italics are things that happened in the past

you do not have permission to translate, copy or post my work elsewhere!

navigation | wandanat masterlist | main masterlist

She looked up when she saw movement, hands filling with her red wisps of energy but it quickly faded away as she saw Natasha, Clint, and her brother turn the corner and enter the area.

Wanda let out a breath at seeing her brother still alive, before moving to him quickly and wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I’m alright baby sister.” Wanda huffed slightly but didn’t bother to make a comment about the nickname, she was just happy that he was safe, and she was thanking Clint and Natasha in her head as she did so for protecting him.

“Does anyone know where Tony and Bruce went?” Steve asked as the pair approached him, Wanda stayed behind with Pietro as they watched from afar. No matter how much Steve may have assured her that they were no longer the enemy, that they trusted them and wanted them a part of the team, she was still wary about the whole idea.

It’s only ever been the two of them since their parents died. They relied on each other for everything. Pietro always made sure he had Wanda’s best interests at hand when making decisions for them. She knew she could trust her brother's judgement, she knew that if he thought the Avengers weren’t trustworthy then he would have taken off with her by now.

“Is that my jacket?” She heard the words fall easily off of the lips of the Russian, who’s stare was on her, she felt the gaze and looked up, making eye contact with Natasha before quickly diverting her gaze back to the ground.

“She’s with us.” Steve stated quickly.

“That still doesn’t explain the jacket.” Natasha shot back, eyes still trained on Wanda‘s figure as she watched the woman shift uncomfortably under her gaze, avoiding all eye contact. Natasha smirked slightly, she liked that she made the girl uncomfortable. She liked that she was able to get under the girl’s skin so easily. What she didn’t expect, was to also like the way the jacket looked on Wanda.

Natasha shook her head slightly, trying to get the thoughts out of her head, but as they made their way out of the covered area and back into the fighting zone, she couldn’t help herself as her eyes stayed trained to Wanda the whole time. The way the jacket moved with her perfectly, hugged her curves just right and the fact that she couldn’t zip the jacket over her breasts had Natasha almost drooling. Natasha was fucked.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

It wasn’t until a few days later, Natasha returning from her morning run, wiping her forehead with a towel as she entered her room, completely ready for the nice cold shower she was about to have. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed a neatly folded article of clothing placed on her bed with a piece of paper on it. That wasn’t there when she left this morning.

She approached the bed and picked up the article of clothing, only to realize that it was her jacket from a few days ago. The jacket that Wanda was wearing as she fought Ultron. The jacket she didn't want back because she’d rather see Wanda wear it.

She picked up the note that fell and her eyes grazed across the letter, a small smile forming across her face as she did so.

Natasha,

 I hope that this is in any way an apology for the other day. Steve never mentioned it was your jacket. I don’t think I would have taken it knowing it was yours, I’m not going to lie, you intimidate me. But I’m sorry if I upset you, I never meant to. So here’s your jacket back. I washed it and sprayed some perfume on it so it smells nice.

— Wanda

Natasha just smiled at the letter as she gripped the jacket in her hand. Reading over the letter again and again, looking over the beautiful cursive that was written by the brunette. Loving how she could hear her accent as she read the words.

She lifted the jacket to her nose and breathed in, the warm scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled her nostrils and she immediately knew this was the perfume that Wanda always seemed to frequent. She thought it was cute that Wanda wanted to wash the jacket and leave a spritz of herself on it, even if she thought Natasha would still be upset over the jacket situation.

She set the jacket down on her bed and made her way into the bathroom before hopping in the shower to quickly rid herself of the sweat that was on her body. Or maybe she wanted to take a shower so that way when she went to go see Wanda, she could smell just as good as that jacket did.

She finished her shower and got dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, her usual loungewear attire if she didn’t have any plans for the day, or if there weren’t any missions to attend to. She grabbed the jacket and the letter off of her bed before making her way out of her room and taking the short walk across the hall to Wanda’s room.

The two women were the only ones that resided on the top floor, it made sense, both being women and all, Tony thought Wanda could use the company and the “estrogen” as he put it.

She let out a breath before softly knocking on the door. She heard movement on the other side of the door, followed by a thud and a soft spoken “fuck” as footsteps approached the door and it swung open, revealing a very unprepared Wanda as she was struggling to put her sweatshirt over her head.

Natasha just giggled at the sight as she stood and watched Wanda successfully pull the hoodie over her head and let out a breath.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.” Wanda breathed out, spent from trying to get that damn hoodie over her head.

Natasha smiled and walked past Wanda into her room. “It’s okay little witch.” She spoke softly as she looked around the room, it was modern for the most part but also had homey vibes to it. She looked over at the desk that was in the corner and smiled at the pictures she saw, most were of her and her brother and there was one of them when they were younger with their parents.

Wanda stood nervously by the door as she watched Natasha, playing with her fingers as she watched her move around her room.

“It’s very cute in here..” Natasha finally spoke and Wanda smiled.

“Thanks, I uhm, I’m still working on getting things organized, but I like it for now.” She said shyly, sitting on the edge of her bed, which in turn was followed by Natasha sitting next to her.

She nervously played with the rings that littered her fingers, she had close to eleven, but who was counting? She stared down at her hands until she felt Natasha move next to her, she lifted her gaze and saw her pulling the jacket she had just returned earlier that morning in her hands.

“When I first saw you in this, I was annoyed, it was my favorite jacket, and there you were, wearing it.” She spoke softly as she played with the fabric of the jacket between her fingers. “But then I watched you more, I watched you while you were wearing the jacket and I realized it looked way better on you than it did me.” Wanda blushed at her words as she looked up to meet Natasha’s gaze.

“I want you to keep it..” She said softly, placing the jacket in Wanda’s hands who shook her head slightly.

“This is your jacket Nat, I can’t just take it.” Wanda said, trying to push the jacket back into Natasha’s hands but it was to no use when Natasha stopped her hands with her own.

“It’s not taking if I’m giving it to you, little witch.” Natasha said, rubbing the cheek of the younger woman as she spoke, Wanda instinctively leaned into the touch of the older woman, loving the warm and soft skin of her hand caressing her cheek.

Natasha smiled as she gazed adoringly at the woman before her, she was so tiny and fragile and had so many experiences ahead of her, and she could only hope that she would get the chance to be a part of them.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

A few weeks had passed and the pair grew closer every day. They did everything together, from training to eating every meal to sleeping in each other’s beds, to showering together, yes, showering together.

Despite it being only a few weeks, the two had grown close. They tried to take it slow at first, small flirts here and there, little touches and caresses during training and eventually Natasha could not keep her hands to herself. After she had slammed Wanda down on the mat during training and her name fell out of her mouth in the most delicate way, accent thick, and moan following.

Natasha fucked her right there on the mat.

They didn’t have a label on their relationship, they didn’t find the need to have a label, they just knew that they belonged to each other, and no one else, they didn’t want anyone else.

That was until Wanda went on a mission.

That was until Wanda went on a mission and was gone for six months.

That was until it was three months after Wanda had left, three months of no Wanda, no sex, no cuddling, and no kisses. Three months where Natasha had to fuck herself to sleep if she wanted to get a decent night’s rest.

 That was until one night, with her hand between her legs and vibrator pressed tightly against her clit that a certain brunette opened the door to the room. Natasha moaned and squealed at the same time as the door flung open and in the doorway stood Maria Hill, who by the looks of it could not take her eyes off of the sight in front of her.

Natasha quickly removed her hands from between her legs as she scrambled to find something to cover herself with. Maria used the distraction to her advantage and made her way over to Natasha, grabbed her wrists and stopped her movements.

“Let me help..” Maria whispered out and before Natasha could protest, her head was between her legs and Natasha’s head was leaning back, eyes rolled into the back of her head in pure pleasure.

She knew the second she didn’t scream at Maria to leave or the second she didn’t try to push her away when she felt her head drifting downwards to her heat that it was wrong, my god it was so wrong but it felt so good.

She missed the touch of her girlfriend, she missed the feeling of lips being wrapped around her clit and sucking relentlessly that when Maria Hill offered to help, she couldn’t decline.  And after Maria had finished her off, Natasha took it upon herself to help Maria out too, returning the favor so you could say.

This continued on for months.

This continued on until the day that Wanda arrived home.

This continued on until the day that Wanda arrived home and was not greeted by her girlfriend at the landing platform.

This continued on until the day that Wanda arrived home and was not greeted by her girlfriend at the landing platform, and instead was met with no one besides her brother who brought her in for a tight hug and expressed how much he had missed her.

This continued on until the second Wanda opened the door to their bedroom and saw Maria Hill, head deep between Natasha’s legs.

A small gasp left her lips as she dropped her bag to the floor, frozen in her spot as she watched the scene before her unfold.

The thud of the bag turned both women away from each other and both of them looked at the door, eyes locked with Wanda’s, who at this point didn’t know if she should cry, scream or do both.

What shocked the two women the most was how calm Wanda was about the situation. Red mist filled her fingers as she pointed her gaze towards Maria, head tilted to the side and the red tendrils of magic ready to make its way of attack. Maria got the message and fled the room before Wanda could kill her.

No words were spoken as Natasha scrambled to throw on some clothes. She eyed Wanda carefully, who kept the same spot she did when she entered the room, she hadn’t moved a muscle nor had she looked Natasha’s way, and Natasha felt guilty.

God, she fucked up.

“Fucked up? All you think you did was fuck up?” Wanda seethed as she finally looked over at Natasha, who mentally cursed herself forgetting that she could read minds.

“Wanda, I-“

“No, you don’t get to speak. You don’t get to speak a single fucking word to me. Do you understand, Natasha?!” Wanda yelled and Natasha shrunk back, tilting her head down to look at the ground.

“I’m so so-“

“Save it.” She spit out. “I don’t want to hear your fucking excuse of an apology.” She continued, fingers running through her hair as the tears she was once holding back began to fall freely down her face.

You’re damn right it’s your fault.” Wanda sniffed out as she wiped at her face, turning to look at Natasha who had barely glanced up enough to meet her eyes.

“You’re damn right it’s your fault.” Wanda sniffed out as she wiped at her face, turning to look at Natasha who had barely glanced up enough to meet her eyes.

“Tell me, what in the fuck was going through your mind when you thought it was okay to sleep with fucking Maria Hill?!” Wanda spat and Natasha flinched, she wasn’t one to get scared, nor to be afraid of someone but this was a side of Wanda she had never seen, this was the side of Wanda she never wanted to see. And yet, she was the reason why this side was brought out.

“Are you going to say anything?” Wanda pushed on, staring at Natasha who stayed silent, staring down at her feet as she did so. “No.” Wanda said softly while choking back a sob.

“Now get the fuck out.” Wanda stated, and Natasha was quick to look up, panic filling her eyes as the reality of the situation finally kicked in and she realized what she had done.

“Wands, please, let me explain.” Natasha begged through a choked sob and Wanda just shook her head.

“What I saw when I walked in this bedroom was enough explanation for me. Now get the fuck out before I make you get out.” She snapped and Natasha went to go speak but the red wisps of energy that were floating between her fingertips made her close her mouth and nod silently.

She grabbed the few things she would need for the night before she exited the room, the door swiftly slamming shut behind her as she had barely stepped foot out of the door. Red energy seemed to overtake the door to not allow access to anyone to the room. A scream of what one would call agony came from inside the room as it was followed by sobs that racked the witch's body as she cried. She cried harder than she had ever cried before on that night.

Natasha couldn’t even make it across the hallway to her room before she collapsed to the floor, sobs racking her body as she gasped to catch her breath. She felt like she was suffocating, like the air was suddenly ripped from her lungs and she was drowning, drowning in her own fears and her own sorrows as she listened to Wanda sobbing from across the hall.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

A hand shaking her shoulder brought her back to reality, she blinked a few times as she trained her eyes away from Natasha and Maria, who were sat across the room, Maria sitting in Natasha’s lap as her arm was laced around the back of her neck and Natasha had an arm securely wrapped around her waist.

Her gaze finally fell on the person who’s hand was still on her shoulder, Steve. Wanda and Steve had grown close over the last few months, both using their grief of losing someone close to them to bond in a way and be the support system for the other.

Peggy’s death hit Steve harder than he ever thought it would, and it wasn’t long before the whole compound knew about the situation between Wanda, Natasha, and Maria. So, Steve confronted Wanda one night, offered her solace and a place where she could feel safe to let her emotions out and the two haven’t looked back since. Their growing friendship was the only thing holding the hole together that was in Wanda’s heart.

“You okay Wands? I think we lost you there for a second.” Steve asked as her gaze lifted and everyone in the room, including Natasha, had their eyes on her, concern written in each of their faces.

Wanda looked down from their gazes and played with the rings on her fingers, she had thirteen now, she loved playing with them, they eased her anxiety. But if you were to ask her on a bad day, she would tell you that she only wore them because she knew Natasha loved her rings and the way they looked on her hands.

Wanda just shook her head some and let out a small laugh, wiping away at the tear that fell quickly from her eye as she stood up from her seat.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night.” She said quickly, not allowing anyone to protest as she made her way out of the living room. Walking as fast as she could down the hallway and to the elevator. She just wanted to disappear, she couldn’t take seeing them together anymore.

Natasha frowned at the quick exit of Wanda as she swiftly removed Maria from her lap and stood.

“I’m going to go check on Wanda.” She said, moving to leave the room before a hand was placed in her bicep, stopping her movements.

“Is that really the best thing for you to do? Haven’t you done enough?” Steve said as his grip remained on her bicep, Natasha yanked her arm out of his hand before glaring at him.

“You don’t get a say in what’s best for me or for her, now back off Rogers.” She seethed as she made her way out of the living room and down the hall to try and find Wanda.

She turned the corner and spotted her waiting by the elevator, she was rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet as she waited, hands stuffed into her pockets as she did.

“Wanda..” Natasha spoke softly from behind, Wanda jumped in the slightest at the sound of the voice from behind her, causing her to turn quickly on her heel and face the intruder. She was, in a way, hoping it was Natasha who had come after her, but that doesn’t mean her heart didn’t break any less when she did turn to find her there.

Wanda looked back down at her feet, tears filling her eyes as everything came crashing down on her once again like a tidal wave. The love and the happiness the two shared in the relationship to the hurt and betrayal Wanda felt when she walked in on Natasha and Maria.

A soft hand found its way to Wanda’s cheek, caressing it softly as it brought her face back up to meet Natasha’s eye, and that alone was enough to have Wanda breaking down into a fit of sobs.

Natasha wrapped her arms tightly around the woman and pulled her close against her, laying her head on her shoulder as she let the witch cry against her. She rubbed her back and did her best to soothe her, whispering soft words in her ear.

“I’m so sorry Wanda..” Natasha choked out, holding back tears of her own and she continued to hold the woman she once loved, no, the woman she still loves in her arms.

It was as if both needed this moment, a moment to let all of the pent up months of emotions out in front of one another. Neither had spoken to the other, unless it was in passing, after the events that occurred.

Both avoided the other stealthily as they tried to get over it, but there was no getting over it. You don’t just fall out of love that easily.

Wanda was the first to pull away from the embrace, dropping her hands from Natasha as she wiped at her face, the tears already beginning to form streaks in her makeup and at this point she didn’t give a fuck what she looked like.

Natasha stood there as she watched Wanda, eyes trained on her movements as she tried to read her. Wanda was always a hard person for Natasha to read.

The two locked eyes for a split second, a split second too long as Natasha surged forward and pressed their lips together in a needy and desperate kiss, hands finding the sides of Wanda’s face easily as she held her there.

A squeal was emitted from Wanda as she felt Natasha’s lips on hers, but that squeal soon turned into a whimper as her hands gripped at her sides, kissing back with as much need and love and desperation as she was given, god she missed those lips more than she could admit.

She could taste the saltiness of their tears and their lips continuously folded together, tongues battling for dominance as they did. It wasn’t until Wanda heard the smallest moan escape from Natasha that she pushed her away so forcefully with her magic that it almost sent her flying down the hallway.

“No.” Wanda said. “No.” She repeated.

Natasha regained her balance as she tried to take a step towards Wanda but was held in place by what seemed to be an invisible shield, but was actually her magic.

“After all of these months you do not get to kiss me like that.” Wanda stated. “You do not get to kiss me like that when I’ve been sitting here on the sidelines asking myself everyday what I could have done better! Asking myself why you chose her, what was so mesmerizing about her huh? Was I not good enough for you Natasha? I guess you liked her better huh?! All of this time it was her all along! Did I not give you enough pleasure?! My god what did you think I was going to do?! Forgive and forget and just move on and fall back in your arms?” She seethed and Natasha just looked down, a laugh leaving Wanda’s mouth as she did so.

“God you’re pathetic. All of this is so pathetic!” She practically yelled as she released her hold on Natasha as she pressed the elevator button again.

“Wanda please..” Natahsa begged and Wanda just held up her hand.

“Natalia no, we’re done. We were done the second you decided to cheat. Nothing you say or do will ever get me back. You chose her, so go fucking have her.” Wanda said, as the elevator doors opened as she stepped inside, turning to press the button to her floor, looking up at the last second to meet Natasha’s gaze.

“Wanda wait-“ But she was cut off by the doors closing and she was left standing there, a crying, heartbroken mess.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

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