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kjupchurch-xx · 4 months ago

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You're Mine (request on Tumblr for a jealousy filled fic featuring Tom Hiddleston)

WARNING: For those that do not like SMUT, I'm sorry, you can skip this one. This is a request I got on Tumblr and I do honor all requests... within reason, LOL.

Today was Hugh and I's third anniversary. The last three years have been amazing to say the least. We met five years ago when I'd stumbled into his coffee shop, Laughing Man Cafe, a coffee and tea shop he owned, located in New York. Hugh had stopped in to sign autographs and meet a few fans, I'd stopped in for a coffee, not realizing Hugh Jackman owned it.

We began dating shortly after, getting married two years later. I'd always been extras in films, but he'd help me kick start my career as being a lead in some smaller films. I was always apprehensive about doing bigger films, so I strayed away from them. Hugh would spend hours going over lines with me to prepare me for various roles over the last few years. I checked my email noticing a script my manager sent over to me. It was a bigger film, of course and I had managed to get the part after a stressful audition. I didn't bother reading the script before auditioning, but I knew it was a rom-com with Tom Hiddleston, who was well known for playing Loki.

"Holy shit." I mumbled, reading over the script. Hugh looked over at me from the opposite end of the couch, wearing his glasses, "What? Did you get dropped?" He asked concerned.

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you automatically assume I was dropped from a film?"

He chuckled, "What's with the 'holy shit' reaction?" He sat his laptop down, scooting beside me to see my phone.

I took a deep breath, "Uh, well... There's a sex scene with Tom and I."

He shrugged, "It's just acting, babe. You'll do fine. Sex scenes are fun to film."

I cocked my brow looking at him, "Really?" I asked sarcastically.

He laughed, shaking his head, "I don't mean it like that. They're awkward. You're wearing these little bags and cover-ups, stimulating sex for hours. It's weird, but the key is to make each other laugh."

He would know. He's the man that's always down for a good sex scene.

I continued skimming the email, "Holy fuck! We're filming it at 5." I said mentally face palming as I jumped up to grab normal clothes, rather than the sweats and over sized t-shirt I was wearing.

Hugh looked at his watch, "Oh fuck, it's 3:45 now. Let's get ready and I'll take you. Tom's a nice dude, you'll be fine, baby." He said as he jumped up to change out of his comfy clothes.

As we got ready and jetted out of the door of our home in NYC, we flew through traffic and made it to the set with 10 minutes to spare. When we arrived on set, I was greeted by my manager, Tom's manager, Tom and a few of the film crew.

"Ooooh, she brought Wolverine with her, Tom. You better be careful." one of the cameramen teased.

Tom chuckled, "I'm always careful." as he made his way to Hugh smiling, "Nice to see you again, Hugh."

Hugh smiled, "Hey Mate, nice to see you."

The director walked over to us, "Okay Jackman, as much as I love your beautiful ass, you're not in my movie. Get off the set." She teased.

Hugh laughed, throwing his hands up, walking towards the side of the set, "You knew it would cost too much to book me." he said jokingly.

Tom and I sat in the middle of the set with the director as she explained the script and how she wanted the intimate scene to take place. "So, we're going to get you two ready for the shot, you'll both be wearing cover-ups, so you won't actually be naked, but you'll appear naked to the audience and to the cameras." We nodded in agreement. "Whenever she comes in, I want you to pin her to the door in a full on make out with second base type thing, but you'll both still be clothed for that scene."

We nodded, "Alright." we said in unison while going our separate ways to get into our character outfits. After about 30 minutes of changing and fixing our hair, we met back on set. A door separating us. This was my first time doing an intimate scene in a movie. I'd had brief kissing scenes over the years, but nothing to this level. I could feel my anxiety building as I took a deep breath, staring towards the door.

"And, action!" The director yelled, slamming a marker.

I grabbed the door, pushing it open to be met with Tom, grabbing me and intensely shoving me against it, pushing his lips onto mine. The kiss was deep, it was messy, there were shots where you see his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Tom wasn't a bad kisser by any means, I will say that. The director decided the scene wasn't her favorite and wanted to re-do it two more times afterwards, wanting Tom to be more aggressive each time we'd kissed.

I glanced over to Hugh, who was on the sidelines, playing on his phone. I could tell he was getting annoyed, but being the professional he is, not wanting to show it. Tom shook me from my thoughts, "You know, kissing you is pretty fun." He said, winking at me. I chuckled, not wanting to cause issues, but also shaking off the uncomfortable feeling his flirting was giving me. Hugh is typically not a jealous man, but I knew if he overheard the flirting, he'd knock this dude's teeth out and make sure he never did another Marvel movie again.

On the third shot of the kissing scene, I felt Tom's hand brush slightly across my breast. Not enough for me to really react, but enough for me to know he did it. Not knowing if this was truly a coincidence, I shrugged it off as we went to get ready for the sex scene. I was completely naked, besides a small skin colored cover-up that literally only covered my vagina. Tom was wearing a skin colored bag that hid his dick.

We wrapped ourselves in robes while we weren't filming to meet the director as she explained how she wanted the sex scene to go and what her expectations were. This was my first big film, and I knew if I wanted to score a good career, I had to sell it regardless of how I was feeling. As we made our way to the bed and stripped our robes, we both laid on the bed, under the comforter. The director wanted Tom on top of me, so he climbed on top of me and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't force myself to look over at Hugh, so I blocked him completely out of my brain and continued looking at the guy that was on top of me.

"And, action!" The director yells, slamming her marker.

Tom looked down at me, "Is this what you want?" He asks seductively, moving his hips in a motion as if he were positioning himself to enter me, throwing the comforter off of us, revealing our naked bodies.

I moaned, biting my lip, "I want you."

Tom stimulated his hips as if he'd slammed into me while I stimulated the scene to make it look as if I were matching his thrusts as both of us moaned. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and began sucking on it while still pretending to thrust into me while I drug my fingernails down his back and cried out his character's name.

The scene in the movie only showed the sex for about two minutes, before cutting to a scene of both of us cuddled in bed talking about how we couldn't let our spouses find out about what we'd done.

Tom giggled, "We can't let them know. This needs to be our dirty little secret."

I smirked, "I know, I know... But you fuck so much better than anyone I've ever been with. He'll be out of town working all week anyways."

Tom leaned down, kissing my head, holding me, "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How hard it is being around you two and having to hide how hard my dick gets when you're around me... We're horrible people." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, "What they don't know won't hurt them." I said as I playfully trailed my fingers down his stomach, "I want more..." I said seductively.

"Cut! That was perfect, guys!" The director exclaimed, running towards us with our robes.

Filming for the day had ended and I hadn't looked at Hugh in hours. I was too afraid to. I know this is what actors do and he knows good and well how acting in films can be, but something in me felt like this was going to be a disaster. As I put my normal clothes back on and told everyone bye, I noticed Hugh was outside on his phone. He looked pissed.

I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, "I'm finished, baby. Do you want to get dinner?" I asked sweetly.

He glanced at me, ending the phone and walking to get in the car, "Not hungry." He grunted.

I opened the door of the car, awkwardly getting in, "We're going home." He said coldly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his arm, only to have him pull away.

He kept his eyes focused on the road, "What's wrong, love? You won't even look at me." I said, starting to tear up.

He scoffed, "What's wrong? You enjoyed that! You were really getting into that wannabe Wolverine motherfucker all over you!" He spat.

My jaw dropped, "Excuse me? What are you talking about? I was doing my job, Hugh!"

He laughed annoyingly, "Really? Your job wasn't to look like you were shooting a motherfucking pornography movie. It was to do a two minute sex scene and you took it too fucking far with him. Do you want to fuck him that bad?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really that jealous by me doing a sex scene in a movie he told me to audition for?

I shook my head, "What are you talking about right now? I did exactly what the director asked me to do." I said in defense.

He looked at me, "Really? Do you realize how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch a younger man, closer to your age all over you, sucking on your tits? Then you're both talking about good thing our spouses don't know. You know you were turned on by it. I know you."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Hugh. Just get me home before I start walking. I'm seriously about to get out of this car."

He scoffed again, "Yeah? Go ring Tom, I'm sure he'll pick you up."

As we got home, he hopped out of the car, making sure he slammed the door and every door inside the house. He was being dramatic. Does seeing me stimulating a fake sex scene with an attractive actor that's younger than him bother him that badly? I'm literally doing what he does with other women, well maybe not that extreme, but does he forget that I have to see him kissing or flirting with other women onscreen in almost every movie or interview he does? I mean shit...Excuse me for just furthering my career.

As the night went on, he seemed to calm down. I found him playing his piano, looking lost in his own thoughts. I walked towards him, "Are you finally calm?" I asked bluntly, bracing myself for the reaction.

He shook his head cheekily, "I'm fine. Do you want to have a cuddle in bed?" He asked, smiling at me.

I nodded, "Of course, love." I said, while grabbing his hand, leading him to our bedroom.

As we approached the bed, he pushed me down, kissing me aggressively, biting and sucking on my bottom lip as if he were going to literally gnaw it off. "You really think he's better than me, huh?" He mumbled against my lips, causing me to roll my eyes.

I brushed the comment off and continued the kiss, "Answer me." He growled while pushing his boner into my hips. "No..." I said lowly. "No, what?" He spat back, pushing himself further into my hips. "No baby, I don't." I said, looking up at him.

"I sat on the side and watched him practically fuck you and touch you for hours. Do you know how fucking bad I wanted to rip his face off for touching my wife?" He asked as yanked my shirt off. "Watching him suck on your perfect tits... You're mine, do you understand that?" He said while pulling my pants off, leaving me in my bra and underwear.

I nodded, "Yours..." He sat back up pulling his own clothes off as he climbed back on top of me, pulling my panties to the side, shoving his fingers inside me, while sucking on my neck. "This is my pussy." He whispered into my ear as his fingers danced inside me.

I couldn't help the moan that escaped from my lips, "Oh fuck... Baby, don't stop." I moaned, while reaching for his boxers. "I want you."

He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock, "You want me? Are you sure you don't want Tom?" He asked, cocking his brow at me as he rubbed my clit.

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, "You're the only one I want..." I said as I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around the length.

"Show me." He said, pulling me on top of him. I slid down his frame, kissing every inch of his torso as I made my way down to his manhood. I felt him place his hand on the back of my head as I took him into my mouth. I sucked hard on the tip while letting my hand work the base as I felt him start roughly thrusting into my mouth as he threw his head back, his moans filling the air.

"That's a good girl. Show me how much you want my dick." He moaned, as I began bobbing my head quicker taking his rough thrusts deep into the back of my throat.

This was not like Hugh, but I was loving every minute of it. It almost makes me wish I'd taken more opportunities to push his buttons. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as he pulled out not wanting to cum just yet. He glanced down at me, motioning for me to get on my knees.

I did as I was told as I felt him push my panties to the side, entering me. His thrusts were fast and rough, not the sweet, romantic I was used to getting. He slapped my ass hard, "Is this what you wanted?" He grunted, "You wanted this cock, you don't want anyone else's cock, do you?" He gave a deeper thrust, "Answer me or I'll stop and you can go ring Tom instead." He yelled.

I threw my head back, trying to form words as the feeling of euphoria overtook my body. "Fuck! Don't stop!" I managed to scream between moans, "I only want you." I said, trying to not let myself go this soon.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, turning my face to look at him, "This is mine. All mine." He moaned. I could tell he was getting close, I could feel him throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel." He said while tugging on my hair.

I let go and exploded on him, literally falling down to the bed as I felt him cum deep inside me. He collapsed beside me, breathless. "Do you feel better now?" I asked him chuckling, sounding a bit amused while trying to catch my breath.

He chuckled, "I do. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked sweetly.

There he was... There was my sweet baby. I smiled, "You didn't hurt me in a bad way, if that's what you're asking. Maybe I should make you jealous more often." I joked.

He laughed, pulling me closer to him, "Maybe so, love."

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wosoamazing · 8 months ago

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Qualifiers

Warnings: Knee Injury, IDK

A/N: Just a bit of a fluffy fic I guess, hope you like it, also I'm currently on mid semester break, so I hopefully will be getting more fics out.

“Steph, have you noticed they’re behaving? Like it’s so quiet” Caitlin remarked as she sat opposite Steph on the bus.

“No, they’re not behaving, they are just asleep.” She replied pointing to the seats where you, Kyra and Charli were all fast asleep, your head leaning on Charli’s shoulder. Everyone shifted their bodies so they could get a view of the three of you, all taking photos, finding the scene in front of them very cute.

“They’re so cute,” “Yeah when they aren't being menaces, Y/N is a really sweet kid though, she just has a lot of energy, I think that stems from….” “Yeah she is great, and such an amazing talent too,” Caitlin rescued Steph as she drifted off, hoping to cover the unfinished sentence, Steph was about to mention your ADHD to the team, all the girls at Arsenal knew about it but Steph hasn't asked you if you were okay with the Matildas knowing.

“How old is Y/N though?” Raso asked

“She turns 17 in June,” “Oh so she is like a baby” “Yeah,” Steph nodded, smiling at you.

“She lives with you and Dean right?” Alanna asked.

“Yeah. Her parents approached us when they found out she was singing for the club and asked if we could take her in, in a way, and we said of course. The club signed off on it and so she moved in with us”

“Wait, how do her parents know you? Or was it random?” “No, we knew them, well more specifically her Dad from our time at Melbourne City, most of you would know him too, he is like on the board or part of the leadership team or something for City as a whole, she explains it much better than I do, but basically he is between all the city clubs and so she couldn’t live with them because they didn’t want her to be alone for long period of time.” They all nodded

“How is she going at Arsenal? She’s been getting a decent amount of minutes hasn't she?”

“Yeah she has. I think she really enjoys it”

“But wait, why does she play for Arsenal if her Dad works for City. Like are they not City fans?”

“Well I don't actually think she is allowed to play for city, but she grew up supporting both Arsenal and City, so I don’t think it really mattered. But I think the main reason is she can't actually play for city.”

“I think she’ll be good for the team, and she is a diverse player, I think Jonas being indecisive has helped that but I mean, it wouldn't hurt to have an all rounder, she is good at everything. I’m just glad she has settled in well, like I know you are all nice and wouldn’t be mean but she is just so much younger, even compared to Kyra. But to be fair she did already know Kyra so that helped. But if anything I’m seeing her more with Charli than Kyra so that is interesting” Caitlin added some food for thought.

“Yeah and something we need to keep an eye on.” Steph said referring to you and Charli spending time together, worried Kyra was getting left out.

_____

You were doing mini drills in teams, so you had a brief break. You walked up to Steph and gave her a hug,

“Hey little one,” she said as she wrapped her arms around you to hug you back “you okay?”

You looked up to her “Yeah, am I not allowed a hug from my Stephy?”

“No, you are, of course you are. I just wanted to check if you were okay. You just seem a little off today that's all. But you know you can always talk to me about anything right?” Tony called both your names out as Steph was finishing what she said, so you let go of the hug rolling your eyes at her, before she put her arm around your shoulders and you walked off to Tony.

“Go have showers and get changed into clean training gear, the media team wants you both. Good work today though, love the effort.”

_____

“Yes Y/N” Tony said as you had your hand up, “Dad is calling me, I’m really sorry but could I answer?”

“Yeah sure, go ahead that is all good, let him know I said hi,” you nodded and walked out, normally Tony wouldn't let such a thing happen, but as you were younger he agreed.

You had just gotten off the phone with your parents, unfortunately they couldn't come to the game tomorrow, City needed your Dad for something, he was very apologetic and he had tried everything he could but City wasn't budging. Steph was right when she said you had seemed off today, because you were, you were just a little overwhelmed by everything that was happening, it was just lots of little things building to form one larger thing. You headed back towards the room feeling nervous for some reason, maybe you just weren't sure, you didn't really know, you hesitated slightly before opening the door, as you took a step in Steph immediately caught your eyes, she nodded to you and you made your way over to her rather than returning to your seat with Mini, Haper, Charlie and Kyra. A few tears left your eyes and Steph sat you down on her lap instead of you sitting down on the empty chair, you dropped your head into your hands and your body shook slightly as you silently cried. Steph rubbed your back as she looked up to Tony, who nodded at her and mouthed ‘go’.

“Hey, I’m going to take you up to my room, do you want me to carry you or do you want to walk?” You didn’t say anything but started walking, she followed behind, once you were out of the room you stopped and turned around to her, she picked you up and started heading for her room again. You weren't actually rooming with Steph but she knew you would want to be with her tonight, for some familiarity, so she placed you down on her bed before quickly going to get what you needed.

“Oh sorry,” Hayley said as she walked into the room, seeing you and Steph, you were still crying, you were just overwhelmed.

“It’s all good, we’ve both had showers so if you want you can have one.” “Thanks.”

By the time Hayley had finished her shower you were no longer crying however you still let out a shaky breath every now and then and from how you were playing with Steph’s rings she could tell you were still nervous. “Hey, you know you’re going to do amazing tomorrow, and if you make a mistake that's okay we all make them, and if you miss, that's okay as well, it happens, we’re humans we can't be perfect. But no matter what we are all going to be proud of you and the way you perform isn't going to affect how we all view you. You know they asked me how I would classify our relationship today, and I told them you were like my little sister. You know I love you right?” you didn't reply but nodded your head, she was a big sister to you, really everyone at Arsenal was like your big sister too you. A yawn escaped your mouth, “Lets get some sleep hey,” you shuffled around to be in a more comfortable position before you softly spoke “I love you too Steph”.

“Is she okay?” Hayley asked now that you were asleep. “Yeah, her parents just can’t make it to the game tomorrow and I think she is kind of scared, but she will be okay,” “Yeah, she is a great player, like really, I might head off to sleep now if that is okay with you,” “Yeah, see you in the morning.”

___

In the 22nd minute you scored your first national team goal, you were ecstatic however 5 minutes later that feeling disappeared when you were pushed, causing your knee to lock before twisting, you heard a pop in your knee, as a pain of wave rolled over it, the world around you went fuzzy, this couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be your ACL, you couldn’t handle that, this was your first cap and now you might be out for 9+ months. You were quickly pulled back to reality by Tony calling all the girls over, who were surrounding you, they all dispersed except for one, who was wiping your tears away, as the medics assessed you. They gave you a green whistle before they stabilised your knee and moved you onto the stretcher, Steph wiped away the last few tears that appeared on your face, before placing a kiss on your forehead, you were then quickly taken down the tunnel, left in your own thoughts, you were so badly hoping it wasn’t your ACL.

There were about 25 minutes of the game left when there was a knock at the door, “come in” the door opened slightly to reveal Steph, whose eyes immediately melted when she saw you, your knee was heavily strapped and in a hinged brace, a pair of crutches leant against the bed.

“Oh, Y/N/N,” she said as she approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

The physio explained to her that you had dislocated your knee slightly, but they were able to put it back in place, she also explained that you had to keep the tape and brace on at all times, until you saw the specialist back in London, she explained they had booked in an appointment for you as well as an MRI.

“Is there any idea of when she can play again?” Steph said, now holding your hand in hers.

“We aren't able to say anything yet, there is no way of knowing what other damage was done, until she gets the MRI, the specialist will be able to tell you everything though when you see them.”

“Okay, thank you, are we able to head out to the pitch, or does she need to stay in here?”

“No, you’re all good to go out. I’ll give you two some space, just let me know if you need anything.” Steph nodded, you looked up to her, her gaze meeting yours.

“Do you want to go back out?” You nodded, “Okay, let's go.” Steph helped you get off the bed and she walked beside you as you slowly made your way back out.

The full time whistle was blown and the stadium erupted, the Matildas had just qualified for the olympics, Steph picked you up and spun you around, “We’re going to the olympics baby!”, you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t we it was her, their last number 20 did her ACL, maybe the jersey just came with bad luck.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt x reader #auswnt #steph catley x reader #steph catley

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ginnsbaker · 1 year ago

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In Silent Screams (3/3)

Chapter word count: 11.8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision (past) Warnings in this part: Smut (F/F), Angst, Gaslighting, Blackmail, Mild attempted sexual assault

A/N: This is probably the most uncomfortable fic I've written after In Flames (for good reason lol), so I'm nothing short of amazed if you were able to go through every line in this three-parter. P.S. For some reason, third part was the hardest to write for me, I guess it's because a lot of the scenes now are the same ones from In Flames after R found out and switching perspectives was a lot harder than I anticipated :P

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It all feels like a dream, starting from the moment she opens her eyes and a few rays of light have filtered through the slats of the blinds. For a few moments Wanda pretends she’s back to that day—to that first morning she woke up next to you as your wife. She can still vividly recall the setting: your old bedroom in Montauk. Less than a year out of college, both you and Wanda were being frugal about the whole marriage thing, opting out of checking into a hotel after the festivities the night before.

Wanda smiles to herself at the fond memory. She glances to the side, and the alarm clock reads 5:30. It's too early to be waking you up, or anyone in this sleepy town. Nevertheless, she has to talk herself into extricating herself from your arms if she wants to pull off a very special breakfast-in-bed. A hesitant decision, a quiet sigh, and Wanda's slowly pulling herself from the warmth of the bed. The wood floor feels cool against her bare feet, prompting her to reach for one of your used polo shirts hanging over the back of the desk chair.

She enters the kitchen, her hands immediately getting to work. The spinach and mushroom are her first go-to, swiftly layered with day-old bread, and custard mix, forming the base for her strata. Next come the eggs, which she sets to poach, anticipating the smooth burst of yolk that'll cascade over the muffin once all is said and done. And then finally, bacon—your favorite.

Sparky trots into the kitchen, inevitably drawn by the wafting aroma, his tail wagging in tandem with his eagerness. He settles by her feet, watching with those pleading puppy eyes, occasionally letting out a quiet whine that speaks of his impatience and hope. Wanda chuckles, bending down to ruffle his fur. “You think this will get you a piece, huh?” she teases. But, she already knows that she'll give in, sneaking him a piece or two. He's your and Wanda's baby after all.

After she’s finished plating the meal, she sets them on a tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom. The morning sun presents itself more boldly, almost spotlighting you in bed. Your face is tucked beneath a pillow, the sheets haphazardly pooled around your waist, revealing the bare expanse of your back, without a care in the world. Warmth floods Wanda's chest. She places the tray on a nearby desk.

Breakfast can wait.

Slipping into bed behind you, she becomes a shadow to your form. Her fingers gently trace the curve of your shoulder, lightly skimming over your skin. A shiver runs through her, and she lowers her lips to your nape. The temptation is too great, and soon, her tongue joins the fray, drawing a wet path down your spine. And then, unable to stop herself, she begins to rub herself against you, a soft moan escaping her lips. The sheer fabric of the polo shirt she's wearing, infused with your scent, rubs tantalizingly against her sensitized skin, heightening her need.

She can't stop thinking about last night, and the times before. She can't stop thinking about you—having you, being had by you. However, as your muscles start to tense, indicating the micro movements of your awakening body, a soft “fuck” slips from Wanda's lips, distracting her rhythm. She waits, a small smile tugging at her lips, silently asking if you're ready to greet the day—together.

You lazily roll onto your back, causing Wanda to reposition herself, now straddling your abdomen. With a drowsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded, you murmur, “Good morning,” squinting at the enthusiastic goddess—my wife, you think possessively to yourself— hovering above you.

Her face lights up, her morning energy nearly palpable. “Morning,” she chirps back, leaning down to capture your lips in a short but sweet kiss. Breaking away only slightly, she gives you a playful eskimo kiss, her nose rubbing affectionately against yours. A giggle escapes you, and she continues until you feel her nose scrunch up from how hard she’s smiling, all the while relishing the sound of her laughter.

When she's done teasing you, she buries her face in your neck. Drawn to the soft, milky expanse of her thighs, your hands begin to wander. As your fingers brush the curve where her thigh meets her hip, the subtle absence of fabric gives you pause. She's without a stitch beneath your polo. Your thumb ventures further south, discovering the dampness tangled in her soft curls. Heat surges to your cheeks, and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

Wanda notices the slight change in your expression and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. “Seems like you found a little surprise,” she teases.

“Did I?” you smirk, tracing the V-line leading to her hidden treasure, teasing her a little. Wanda's breath catches, her pupils blown. But just as she readies herself for whatever comes next, you suddenly shift upwards, unbalancing her slightly. Reflexively, her legs wrap around your waist, anchoring herself to you. Her hands fly to your shoulders, gripping them for support. With a swift move, you part the front of the polo she’s wearing, exposing the smooth curve of her breast to the cool morning air.

The sudden exposure makes her gasp, but before she can utter a word, you close the distance, taking a hardened nipple into your mouth. Her face contorts in unabashed pleasure, her world spinning as you draw her deeper and deeper into your mouth. It's messy and primal, yet at the same time, it's reverent and sacred—something she has only ever experienced with you. She can't help but squirm, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on.

Keeping an arm firmly around her waist to ensure she stays secure, your free hand travels down her belly, fingers tracing a sultry path to her soaked center. You leisurely trace her slick folds, gathering her arousal, playing with it.

“Please, baby,” she arches and bucks, grinding her hips, “more...I need more.”

Your lips twist into a devious smirk, reveling in her desperation. Drawing back slightly, you gaze at the flushed, vulnerable state of her, taking a moment to commit the image to memory. “I love it when you’re this needy…” you rasp, the tease evident in your tone.

Oh, but she is. She needs you to claim her, time and time again. She never wants to be anything else other than yours once more.

You lean back in, trailing a path of searing kisses from her collarbone, down to the valley between her breasts. Without warning, you nip at her tender flesh, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. Marking her further, you suck and bite gently, leaving a trail of reddened spots, declaring your claim on her. With every purple bruise you leave, Wanda's moans grow more desperate, more wanton.

When you finally lift your head, her chest is littered with bites, then with a wicked grin, you dip your finger into her wetness once more, circling her entrance but never dipping inside.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I... I want you,” she admits breathlessly, biting her lower lip, eyes pleading. “Please, I need you inside.”

Not wanting to make her wait any longer, you slide two fingers into her, curling them expertly. Wanda's body arches off the bed, her inner walls instantly tightening around your digits, pulling them deeper. Every sound that spills from her lips, the way her body arches, trying to get closer, to feel more of you, tells you just how good you’re making her feel.

Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, while your fingers continue to piston in and out of her. The room is filled with the sound of Wanda's ragged breaths and the wet, slick noises of your fingers moving within her. As you feel her body tense further, you take a chance and slide a third finger into her, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation of being so full sends Wanda over the edge.

“Oh, God!” she gasps, her back arching, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands grip your shoulders tightly, knuckles white from the intensity of her climax. Her inner walls spasm around your fingers, coating them with her release, her entire body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

You keep up the pace, not wanting to stop until she's wrung out from pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers sends aftershocks rippling through her. When it finally becomes too much, Wanda grabs your wrist.

“Enough,” she breathes out, a sated smile curling her lips.

You can't resist the allure of the taste she's left on your fingers. You raise them to your lips, deliberately and slowly, letting her watch as you savor her taste. The move earns a flustered gasp from her.

“You taste so good,” you murmur, your voice low and husky.

Wanda's cheeks redden, but her eyes darken once more, filled with a burning intensity. “Your turn,” she whispers, reaching for you.

Thirty minutes before she can call it a day, the sound of a knock on her office door sends a ripple of tension through Wanda.

She knows that knock all too well.

Taking a deep breath, she calls out, “Yes?” even as she mentally braces herself for who might be on the other side.

The person almost immediately steps in, and—unfortunately, she's correct about who she thinks it might be. Before she can utter a word, he says, “You know, I can't just come in without an appointment, right?”

“Exactly, Vision. You shouldn't be here without—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her by triumphantly holding up an appointment slip.

His cheeky grin widens. “Got one right here.”

Wanda eyes the slip, pursing her lips as she thinks of a retort, keeping her guard up. The game has changed, but Vision's audacity, it seems, remains the same.

“Alright, what do you want? And I wouldn’t entertain anything that doesn’t have to do with the course.”

“Just some clarification about our last lecture,” he says as he closes the door behind him, audibly locking it. Wanda maintains her composure, not letting it show that the small act alarms her in the slightest.

“Go on,” Wanda prompts, leaning back slightly against her desk, arms crossed defensively.

But Vision, without missing a beat, launches into something entirely different. “I miss you,” he starts, and Wanda's posture stiffens, her fingernails reactively digging into her arms rather painfully. “I realize I messed up, Wanda. I do. But I can change.”

“Vis—” she warns, trying to interrupt him, but he barrels on, his voice filled with desperation.

“And if, by any chance, you're pregnant, I'll step up. I promise. I'll be responsible,” he continues, his voice quivering slightly. “You have no idea how happy I’ll be if you are.”

“I'm not pregnant,” Wanda whispers, struggling to keep her emotions in check. It's one thing for him to disregard her boundaries and be reckless with his words, but to assume that she would continue a pregnancy, knowing he's the father? Even the thought of it is sickening.

“And I would still choose not to be even if you were successful in your plans,” she adds, just to spite him.

Vision looks as if he might be sick, his complexion turning pallid, and a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Wanda has never seen him struck by her words this hard, and she realizes she doesn't have any idea what he might do next.

“I just... I thought…” he stammers, eyes glistening, “I just wanted to matter to you, b-by—”

“By what, Vision?” She cuts him off, her tone icy. “Hoping you'd lock me down by trying to knock me up?”

Vision’s face crumples further, tears spilling over. For all his stature—tall, lanky yet broad-shouldered—in this moment, he's stripped of that facade. His body shake as he tries to hold back sobs. “I didn't... I didn't think it through,” he manages to say between choked breaths.

Wanda almost pities him, but she shakes her head. “If you’re not here for school, you need to leave.” Her voice is cold, but inside, she's fighting a storm of guilt for the hurt she sees in him.

Just then, the shrill ring of Wanda's phone startles them both simultaneously. Vision's eyes dart to the screen as her caller ID lights up, displaying your name. In a split second, desperation and panic take hold of him. He lunges for the phone, but Wanda is quicker. She swiftly grabs it from her desk, tucking it safely into her purse.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses, her back pressing against the desk.

Vision's eyes burn with an intensity that chills her. Taking slow, deliberate steps, he looms over her, his presence imposing in the small confines of her office. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he demands with barely suppressed jealousy. “She's coming to get you now?”

Wanda backs away slightly, her breathing erratic. “Vision, you need to think—”

“I am thinking.” His voice drops to a low, menacing growl. He tilts his head, eyes never leaving hers. “And maybe I'm thinking of doing something you won't like.”

“No!” Wanda pleads. “Look, Vision—okay, okay, let’s talk. Just not here. We can go to your place.”

His gaze narrows, considering her offer. “When?”

“Soon.”

Vision shakes his head. Not good enough.

“Tomorrow,” he states without room for argument, his eyes drilling into hers. “Same time. Like we used to.” The allusion to their previous meetings isn't lost on her.

Wanda's throat constricts, “Fine,” she whispers, barely audible, a clear note of dread in her voice. She hates the familiarity of this situation. Most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this position to begin with.

Suddenly, Vision reaches out, his fingers nearly brushing the side of her face. Wanda instinctively shrinks back, but the space between the desk and Vision offers her little room to escape. Her back is to the wall, both literally and figuratively. She can feel the cold press of the desk behind her, contrasting with the heat emanating from Vision's body. It’s obvious what he's thinking, what he's restraining himself from doing.

Horrified and trapped, Wanda closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. But instead of the touch she anticipates, she hears Vision's harsh intake of breath. The realization that she's retreated from him seems to strike a nerve.

Without another word, Vision pulls away sharply, as if burnt. He turns on his heel, storming out of her office. As soon as he’s gone, her legs give out from under her and she slides down to the cold floor, clutching her chest as she struggles for air. The walls of her office seem to close in on her, trapping her in her own spiraling thoughts.

As the room begins to blur, the sharp buzz of her phone breaks through her spiraling thoughts. Instinctively, she reaches into her purse, pulling out the phone. Your name illuminates the screen, and with it comes a flood of emotions—relief, safety, love.

The mere thought of you—so close, just beyond these walls—stops a panic attack from consuming her.

“Would you like to go bowling?” Wanda asks you as soon as she fastens her seat belt.

The randomness of the suggestion takes you aback, and a hearty laugh escapes your lips. But as you glance over to see Wanda's reaction, expecting to see her sharing in the moment's levity, you're met with a pained expression.

Your smile fades immediately, replaced by concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

Wanda mentally curses herself, realizing just how easily you can read her, see past her defenses. Needing to come up with something plausible, she quickly blurts out, “I had something super spicy when you called earlier. Didn't handle it too well, it seems.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up in a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, hoping you'd buy the lie, or at least not press further.

You don’t. “Hmm… how about we take Sparky out for a stroll today?” you suggest.

“A walk sounds great,” Wanda replies, her voice softening.

“Good,” you say, starting the car. “Let's head to the park. A bit of nature might do us both some good.”

The engine rumbles softly as you shift the gears, transitioning smoothly from one to the next. And then, almost instinctively, you reach out to take Wanda's hand, your fingers lacing with hers in a gentle yet firm grip. You hold her hand throughout the entire ride home, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze whenever you feel them tremble between yours.

That night, while you sleep soundly beside her, she finds herself unable to sleep. She spends the empty hours simply studying your peaceful face. There's a childlike innocence in the way your lips part slightly, a soft snore escaping occasionally. It's endearing, and it makes Wanda smile, even through her turmoil. She imagines traces of age on your face—the lines that will mark years of laughter, the silver that will streak through your hair. She tries to picture herself beside you, her own face carrying the weight of the years, both of you holding on to each other until the last breath. Her smile is teary as she hopes and hopes that this is where she's headed—to this future.

Because tomorrow, she will have to see Vision, and if everything goes well, she'll never have to see him again. Then she will finally express how she needs you to take her back to Manhattan or anywhere far from here, so she'll never have to relive this nightmare she’s created.

The next day comes like any regular day of the week. She kisses you goodbye as you head off to work, and she feeds Sparky to his heart's content before getting into a pinstripe blue blazer set. She fails to notice just how good she looks in this well-fitted ensemble, the fabric hugging her waist perfectly. Her focus is solely on feeling powerful, as she knows she'll need all the strength to finally put an end to things with Vision.

Wanda takes a deep breath, then another, and then two more, before she finally gathers enough courage to knock on the door. Vision answers almost immediately, as though he had been anticipating her knock down to the very second.

The man before her now looks wholly different from the one she had encountered just yesterday. His blue eyes are bright and clear, his face clean shaven. The scent of a cologne she doesn't recognize wafts to her. New, she thinks. It's heady and distinctly masculine, unsettling her slightly.

“Wanda,” he greets with a charming smile, one that reaches his eyes, but doesn’t quite touch the soul behind them. For a moment, she's transported to the countless afternoons she spent here, entangled with him with nothing—not even air—separating their sweating, writhing bodies. His lips quirk into a sly, familiar smile, as if he too remembers those days and expects this visit to be a similar occasion.

“Vision.” Gripping her shoulder bag tighter, almost using it as a shield, she quickly sidesteps him. “May I?” she asks, though it sounds more like a statement as she makes her way into his apartment.

He chuckles softly behind her, the sound dripping with memories she would rather forget. “Of course. After all, you've always felt at home here.”

Wanda's stride falters for a fraction of a second at his words, the implication threatening to pull her under. But she needed to keep her wits about her. If she wants this conversation to go her way.

“Let’s just get to the point, Vision,” she says curtly.

“I intend to,” he replies, closing the door behind them with an intentional finality. Wanda allows herself to glance around, seeking even a brief distraction from what's about to unfold. His apartment is in disarray, a stark contrast to his appearance. Her eyes are drawn to one particular piece amongst the chaos—the finished nude painting he had made of her. The realization catches in her throat. It appears he’s finished it.

Wanda shoots him an expectant look, urging him to speak first.

Vision clears his throat, attempting to sound casual but failing. “Wine? Or should we skip the formalities?”

Her eyes narrow, her patience waning. “We skip.”

“Alright.”

He sighs and drops onto the couch. “Look, I've said sorry over and over, but I’ll say it again. I'm sorry, Wanda. I'm sorry for being careless that night.” His voice lowers, “But I don't regret it.”

Wanda's eyes flash with disbelief. “You don't regret it?”

“No,” he murmurs. “What I regret is that it didn't result in... well, you know.”

The implication is clear, and Wanda feels bile rise in her throat. How could he say something so audacious?

She opens her mouth to retort but he continues, raising a hand as if to hold off her words, “I want to keep seeing you. I can’t stop. Because, believe it or not, I'm in love with you.”

Wanda feels as though the ground has been pulled from under her feet. Every instinct tells her to run, but she knows that this won’t have an ending if she does. Wanda swallows dryly and closes her eyes, trying to piece together a strategy, a way to get through him, a way to get out of this unscathed, a way to ensure he won’t tell anyone about this when she leaves.

“I-I believe you,” she starts. “I think I’ve always known, no—felt, that you l-love me.” Vision nods to her words, his lips curling into a hopeful smile.

“But I have to be honest with you, too,” she continues, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I took advantage of those feelings, Vision. I knew, deep down, that you felt this way and I still... I still let it happen. And for that, I'm deeply sorry.”

He stiffens at her words, a frown forming on his brow. “Wanda—”

She raises her hand, signaling for him to let her finish. “I don’t love you. It's Y/N. It's always been her. From the very start. What happened between us, it was a mistake, one that I haven't forgiven myself for. Especially because of what it means for Y/N.”

She takes a shaky breath, looking into his eyes earnestly, “You deserve someone who can return your feelings, who can love you wholeheartedly. You're a handsome, intelligent, passionate young man. There are many out there who would consider themselves lucky to be with you—”

But Vision vehemently shakes his head, unwilling to accept it, refusing to acknowledge their end. “I want to keep seeing you.”

“You can't,” Wanda insists, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “It's over.”

Vision's eyes flash dangerously, the calm veneer shattering in an instant. He takes a step forward, trapping Wanda with a threatening look.

“You think you can just fuck me and then discard me like nothing?!” he hisses.

Wanda backs up, startled. She feels her control starting to slip away. “Of course not. I… you were my friend. I cared—I care about you. But I shouldn't have let it get this far.”

He scoffs, not a word of hers reaching his ears. “So, it's all a game to you? You get to decide when to play and when to stop?”

“No, it's not a game,” she replies, desperate for him to understand. “But I can't keep lying to myself or to you. I can't keep hurting Y/N or you.”

His gaze snaps back to hers, and there's a glint of something dark and foreboding in his eyes. “Maybe you should've considered the consequences of your actions, Wanda.”

She swallows hard, sensing the danger in his voice. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe Y/N should know the truth,” he surmises, his voice dripping with malice. “Maybe she should know exactly who she's been sharing her bed with.”

Wanda feels like she might faint anytime. Panic rises, threatening to choke her. “Vision, please,” she pleads, “you can't do that.”

His eyes remain steely. “Why not? She deserves to know, doesn't she?”

Wanda takes a shaky breath, grappling for words, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. “Yes, she does. But not like this. Not from you. If anyone should tell her, it's me.”

“But you'll never tell her,” Vision says, his voice laced with accusation. “I see it in your eyes, Wanda. You don't have the balls to be honest with her. Because you're afraid. You're afraid she'll walk away.”

Both are poised in this high-stakes game, each waiting, anticipating, guessing what card the other will play next. For a heartbeat, Wanda feels disarmed, Vision's threat too sharp and too real. But as the seconds tick by, something shifts in her. She straightens up, pulling herself to her full height, and when she speaks, there’s no fear or hesitation in her voice.

“You’re not going to tell her,” she declares.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because you know I'll hate you,” she says. “And if there's even the slightest chance that I'll change my mind, then doing that wouldn't be it.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, but the look in his eyes betrays his indifference. “You think there's a chance you'll change your mind?”

“No,” Wanda says firmly. “It's over.”

The defiant look that had been painted across Vision's face begins to crack. He looks smaller somehow, like he's shrinking back into himself. His shoulders slump, and the facade of control and confidence he'd donned earlier dissolves. The boy from yesterday, the one who seemed so heartbroken, returns in full force.

“Wanda,” his voice trembles, almost as if he's on the verge of tears. “Please, I’m all alone. I told you my life, I told you about my parents, nobody in this world cares about me! And I know I said I’m fine and I can survive without them, but why should I when I have you, Wanda—”

She can't help but pity him, his brokenness tugging at her heartstrings. But she knows that relenting now would mean drowning in the same cycle all over again.

“Vis, you will find someone. Someone who isn't me, someone better for you. Trust that.”

“How can I want someone else when I had you,” he insists with unwavering stubbornness, his eyes growing more frenzied, and Wanda shivers at the unsettling sight before her.

“Maybe you had me,” she says tearfully as she decides to finally drive a stake into his heart. “But not in every way like Y/N has me.”

Before she can register what's happening, Vision's hands are suddenly around her waist, pulling her forcefully against him. The initial shock and his assertiveness make her freeze for a split second. As he starts rubbing himself against her, she feels the unmistakable hardness growing between them.

“Vision, stop!” she protests, trying to wriggle free.

“Can you feel that?” he whispers hoarsely, clearly misinterpreting her struggle, mistaking it for their first time together and all the other times she eventually gave in to his advances. “That's how much I want you. Need you.”

Tears of frustration and fear spill from her eyes. “This isn't right, Vision. Let go,” she pleads, placing her hands against his chest and pushing with all her might.

“Wanda, just—maybe if we—you’ll see. You’ll see that you love me, just let me—”

Her fist connects with his cheek, causing him to stumble a few steps away. For a while, they both freeze in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in. In his moment of delirium, Vision comprehends what he was about to do to the woman he claims to love, and guilt claws at his guts, wrenching his insides.

On the other end, Wanda's chest heaves with shock and distress. She stands there momentarily paralyzed, the aftershocks of the ordeal still rippling through her. Tears blur her vision, but she refuses to let them fall, not now, not when she needs all her strength. Her gaze meets Vision's only briefly before she pulls herself together. She wraps her arms around herself, and then rushes to the front door.

He yells, “No, Wanda! I…please let’s just—”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears.

Wanda goes straight home after the whole fiasco with Vision. She locks herself in the bedroom, crying for hours, paying no attention to Sparky's worried barks from outside the door. She tells herself that it could be worse, trying to talk herself out of going to the police. If she goes to the authorities, she'll have to give a statement. This would inevitably lead to an investigation into their past, revealing things she doesn't want you to know.

Drained from crying, Wanda's eyelids grow heavy. As sleep overtakes her, vivid dreams flood her mind, each presenting an alternate reality. In one dream she’s back in Vision’s apartment, his arms wrapped around her like a chain, and every time she tries to pull away, the chains grow tighter, pulling her back into his prison. A cold dread settles in her heart, as she struggles and fights, desperate to wrench herself free from his grasp.

The next scenario places her in a world without Vision. It's a life untouched by his influence, where she walks unfamiliar streets and meets faces that do not recognize her. Then, in a sudden shift, she's back at her office on that fateful evening, but the events unfurl differently. The temptation of Vision never materializes. She leaves, unburdened by the weight of a choice she didn't make.

But the relief is short-lived. These dreams meld into a harrowing nightmare, saturated in hues of red and black, where you discover her secret. She tries to call out, to explain, to mend, but her voice is swallowed by the deafening silence of the dreamscape.

In her seemingly endless silent screams, Wanda wakes up. The remnants of her haunting dreams still clutching at her, making her jolt upright. The fabric of the sheets sticks to her body, drenched in a cold sweat. Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if she's been submerged underwater and has just broken the surface.

The bedside clock reads half past six and panic sets anew. You could be home in an hour, given that you haven't been extending your hours at the office lately. The realization pushes her into a frenzied urgency. Throwing off the sheets, Wanda rushes to the ensuite bathroom. The cold stream from the shower brings a semblance of clarity, washing away the residues of her nightmares.

Wrapped in a towel, with droplets still cascading down her skin, she dashes to the kitchen. She pulls out ingredients, her hands working methodically, albeit with a haste that speaks of her need to keep busy, to keep the demons of her subconscious at bay. She manages to prepare a simple but appetizing meal, but the mere thought of taking a bite threatens to turn her stomach inside out.

The dining table is set, and she seats herself, her gaze distant once again. And she stays there, lost in her own head.

It’s how you find her when you get home at 9:15 in the evening.

You’re quiet tonight. Alarmingly so.

She asks you how your day was, and you respond tersely with a simple, “Good.” She attempts to get you to elaborate, maybe share an anecdote like you usually do, but you dismiss her efforts, attributing your lack of interest in conversation to fatigue.

But Wanda can’t stand the silence. When it’s quiet, the voices in her head are even louder.

So she decides to tell you about her day instead. She swears to herself this is the last day she’ll ever lie to you with a straight face. She talks about the final projects her students have begun submitting. As she describes her favorites, your interest particularly sharpens when she mentions the portrait projects. You pepper her with questions, mostly about who made which, and Wanda offers names that probably wouldn't mean much to you.

After you finish eating, you thank her with a small smile. It's only then that Wanda feels she can breathe again. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her longing evident. However, just as she tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Showered without me?” you tease, but it lacks the usual lilt in your voice. She simply nods in response. You playfully tap her nose, whispering, “Naughty girl.” Then, without another word, you're on your feet and heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

She proceeds to clear the table and wash the dishes, all while the sound of the shower fills her ears. She allows herself a small smile, chiding herself for being overly affected by her dream.

By the time she makes her way up to join you, she discovers you've already drifted off, turned away from the vacant space beside you that's meant for her.

She’s positively shaking as she takes the short walk from the parking lot to the classroom, the dread building up inside her like a swelling storm. The thought of facing her class, and especially Vision, sends shivers down her spine. The recent events—the horrifically inappropriate advances and Vision's glaring sense of entitlement—play over and over in her mind.

Her feet eventually take her to her destination, but she remains outside for a full minute. The thought of facing Vision again is almost enough to turn her around. But another, stronger, voice reminds her of her duty, her commitment to her other students, and her own integrity. Moreover, she doesn't want to be alone today, here the haunting events with Vision could replay in her mind without any distractions.

She pushes open the door. It appears to be a typical day, with her students clustered in small groups, engrossed in conversation and seemingly oblivious to her arrival. She swiftly surveys the room and, to her relief, doesn't spot the familiar blue eyes that usually fixate on her by this time.

When she starts her lecture on the final topic of the semester, it flows seamlessly. Still, the end of the course can't come soon enough; continuing here is untenable. She can’t keep teaching here, when these hallways keep reminding her of the mistake that almost cost her everything.

You've been leaving the side of your bed cold for almost two weeks now. Sometimes, your careful movements stir her awake, and she watches you, bleary-eyed, as you go through the motions of prepping for a run, a habit you've picked up quite recently. At first, Wanda would always ask where you’re headed and if she can accompany you. But you'd consistently dismiss her offer, always seeming in a rush to hit the pavement.

She thinks it’s good for you—the exercise. The only aspect of your new hobby that she dislikes is that you typically go before sunrise, where everywhere is still too dark and eerily quiet, and her imagination runs wild of all the worst things that could happen to you while you’re out on your run.

And Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she can't help but internalize the consistent rejection of her offers to join you. She wonders if there's a deeper reason behind it. When you're out and she's left alone with her thoughts, Wanda can't help but let the guilt seep in. Has she become too transparent? Has something given her secret away? Did you find out about her affair? How would she even begin to explain?

But then you return after your run, with a sense of tranquility, as though the exercise had been a cathartic release of some pent-up tension. However, something still feels amiss. Perhaps it's because she hasn't slept with you since the night she discovered she wasn't pregnant with Vision's child, and all that has passed between you are brief, perfunctory kisses here and there. She wants to discuss it with you, but she doesn't want to appear too eager or guilty. Instead, she remains committed to being a good wife. And even though being a good wife was never about housework, Wanda ensures that every corner of the house sparkles and shines.

Meanwhile, you go about fulfilling your own household responsibilities seamlessly. From tending to minor repairs to ensuring that bills are paid on time, you continue with the routines that have always defined the dynamic of your relationship. There's no sign of resentment or dissatisfaction in your actions. It's almost as if everything is back to normal. This confounds Wanda even more. She starts to question her own memory, wondering if perhaps this distance, this new version of you, has always been present and she just never realized it. It's possible that you've become this way while she was preoccupied with her affair, and she didn't notice how you slowly adjusted to her unavailability.

Of course, she only has herself to blame. She's determined, however, to rectify it and make it up to you.

Which is when the idea strikes her. The dream vacation to Hawaii that both of you often fantasized about but never took due to financial constraints and a tight schedule. With the money from her teaching job, she now has the means to turn that dream into a reality. A surprise trip might be the perfect remedy to rekindle the connection that has worn out due to your busy lives and... her unfaithfulness.

She knows it doesn't atone for her sins, but it's a step in the right direction.

It should have been the perfect day for her surprises. She has two of them—the surprise trip and the news of her resignation from the university. She had just handed you the box with all the Hawaii trip details, and you were about to dive in, when there was a knock at the door.

Two men in dark suits have arrived at the house, looking for her. Detectives—Rogers and Barnes. Wanda uncovers the real reason behind Vision's absence from school, and it wasn't due to personal family matters or a decision to pursue education elsewhere.

He's been in an accident, and they suspect foul play.

Their questions start off simple, touching on the basics. But soon, they feel like piercing arrows as they delve into the phone calls between them, how close they were, and if she ever set foot in his apartment. Throughout the interrogation, Wanda manages to keep a straight face, though deep down she knows she probably can't fool detectives of their caliber. Yet, she silently prays that you don't see past her mask.

“That’s enough,” you interject firmly. “My wife has answered your questions. Unless there’s anything else directly related to your investigation, I believe we’ve covered everything.”

Your intervention when their questions grow more intrusive suggests she's managed to keep you in the dark. The realization that you're still on her side floods her with immense relief.

“Very well. Thank you both for your time,” Rogers says.

But Wanda isn’t done. She has her own questions. She needs to know if Vision's involvement with her is the reason they're here, probing. She wonders if he might have informed the authorities about their inappropriate relationship, and if that somehow relates to his current situation.

“Wait!” Wanda exclaims, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She contemplates asking her burning questions, but with you observing from the side, she suppresses her urge to do so. Instead, she conveys her worry—she is, after all, his teacher.

“Is he… is he okay?”

Wanda's complexion turns ashen upon catching the look on Barnes' face, instantly realizing he's fully aware of her and Vision's relationship. She can barely hear Roger's response, her blood rushing in her ears.

“…that he’s stable. However, he remains in a coma. It’s uncertain when or if he’ll wake up, but let's hold onto hope.”

Oh.

Her secret's safe—for now. But she... she has to be certain. She needs to tie up any loose ends, if there are any.

It's reckless to visit Vision's apartment in daylight, especially right after a visit from the police.

Exiting her car, Wanda's sandals softly scrape against the ground. She pauses to scan her surroundings, her gaze flitting from one building to another. The neighboring houses and apartment complexes stand silent, their stillness almost eerie, as if they've been forsaken. She knows that not many reside in this part of the town, a fact that had made Vision's apartment an ideal hideaway for their secret meetings.

She cautiously approaches Vision's unit, her hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the door knob: locked. A memory surges—Vision handing her a spare key during one of their early encounters. Retrieving it from her bag, she hesitantly fits it into the lock, preparing herself for what she might find beyond the door.

It opens with a muted creak, and a blanket of darkness envelops her. Hesitating at the threshold, she fumbles for a light switch, her fingers brushing against the cool wall before finding it. She'd half-expected Vision's belongings to be packed up, perhaps by a landlord who wanted to move on from the situation. But everything appears untouched, as if frozen in time; dust hasn't settled, and the items scattered about give no indication that the place has been vacant for weeks. It occurs to her that the ongoing investigation might be the reason the apartment remains untouched.

Wanda moves quickly, knowing she shouldn’t linger. Heading straight to the bathroom, she swiftly gathers her toothbrush and a few other personal items she had left behind. As she emerges, her gaze is drawn to the corner where Vision's easel stands. It used to hold a portrait of her, a work he'd wanted to submit for his final project, capturing her in a light she had never seen herself. But now, it’s empty.

A cold rush of panic seizes her. She clutches the edge of a table, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Had Vision decided to move the painting for some reason? Or worse, had the detectives seen it and taken it as evidence? The painting wasn’t just art; it was tangible evidence of their affair.

But then, in the midst of her mounting fear, a memory jolts her—there was another painting, the one Vision had purchased from the gallery where she used to work. With a newfound urgency, she hurries to his bedroom. The scene is disarrayed, with sheets and pillows strewn about. Ignoring the mess, Wanda goes directly to the cabinet where she remembered he last stored it. She yanks open the doors, and her eyes dart around, searching, but the painting is nowhere to be found.

Desperation grips her. If the detectives come across either painting, they'd have more reasons to scrutinize her further than she's comfortable with. Such involvement would be near-impossible to hide from you. Wanda proceeds with caution, scanning the apartment for any lingering items that could connect her to Vision. Unexpectedly, she finds a piece of her lingerie nestled within his sock drawer. Swiftly, she snatches it up. Before departing, she meticulously wipes away any fingerprints from the surfaces she's touched, then dashes to her car.

Once inside, she pauses to draw several deep, steadying breaths. It's overwhelming to think that this is now her reality, teetering on the brink of exposure.

She eventually finds herself falling off the edge when she discovers Natasha’s email on your laptop, mere moments after the crushing realization that you hadn’t bothered to open her gift.

Her instinct is to craft a lie. She searches her mind rapidly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for the intimate handhold. Maybe she could say it was an old friend from the past, or perhaps a distressed student she was comforting. But one glance at the photo and she knows, deep down, that any excuse would fall flat. The way Vision looks at her, with such unmistakable affection and wonder, betrays any innocence she might claim. Trying to explain this to you or anyone else would be an exercise in futility.

Wanda had played out various scenarios in her mind about how you might discover the truth, but she never imagined it would be through seeking the expertise of your best friend. It was perhaps naive, but she had hoped you wouldn’t notice anything or, if you did, that you'd confront her about it.

But why would you come to her? She's been pushing you away for months, and the only time she truly showed you how much you mean to her was when she was so relieved that she wouldn't be carrying the consequences of her indiscretions in her womb.

In case you need them, the subject of the email says. Need them for what? Wanda wonders. From the way Natasha worded the message accompanying the photos, it doesn't appear you're just discovering the truth now.

No, it seems that you’ve known for a while. Which means—

The pieces fall into place, a chilling realization creeping over her. Wanda's breath catches as she pushes the laptop away, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The way you had carried yourself, especially around the police—it was far too serene, too measured. When they mentioned Vision's name, you didn't so much as flinch or even show a flicker of surprise.

Her heart beats painfully against her ribs. The calm demeanor, the calculated way you’d been moving about—it wasn't out of ignorance. You knew. And for how long? The thought terrifies her. How many days or weeks has she been living this lie while you watched, silently knowing everything?

Your silence, amplifying her betrayal, eats away at her conscience. The quiet before the storm, she thinks. And she's right in the middle of it.

“Wanda?”

She’s hiding in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, practicing a smile and a thousand more expressions even though she's barely holding it together.

“Wanda.”

She couldn't shake the thought of you knowing. Did you have any involvement in Vision's accident? You've never intentionally hurt even the smallest creature, let alone another human being, right?

“Wanda!”

She nearly leaps out of her skin as the bathroom door slams open, and you stare back at her, looking just as startled and taken aback.

“Hey,” she says, forcing a smile.

You narrow your eyes at her, and she shivers under your intense scrutiny.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in here for almost an hour.”

Wanda nods quickly. “I'm fine.”

You continue to watch her for a moment, before saying, “Alright.”

Just as you're about to step away, Wanda remembers the plans for later. “About the dinner tonight,” she starts hesitantly, “with your colleagues from the bank... should we cancel?”

She's desperately hoping you'd say yes. She can't bear not knowing what's going on in your mind. The way you act as if everything's normal is suffocating her. Does she even still know the real you? Every moment you're not cursing her out or confronting her betrayal feels like an eternity.

But you shake your head. “No, let's do it. We already promised them.”

Wanda's heart sinks a little, but she nods in understanding.

“I'll go grab some wine real quick,” you say before leaving the bathroom, leaving Wanda alone once again with her thoughts.

Later, as the last of the guests leave, she's certain you've picked up on her distress, noticing how you kept glancing at your watch and drifting out of conversations. She senses your gaze on her as she escorts Scott and his wife to the car, acutely aware you're observing her every move from the bedroom window.

Though they're older than both you and Wanda, they've only been hitched for two years. Wanda can't help but wonder if maybe things are smoother for them because they waited to get married. But then a familiar warmth washes over her. The memory of how deeply in love she was with you surfaces. Even if you had waited six years to propose, she’s sure that had you suggested it within the first few months of dating, she would've said yes in a heartbeat.

Truth be told, she doesn't regret it now, the timing of it, and everything in between.

All she's uncertain of is how tonight will unfold.

The house lies shrouded in an inky stillness, almost like it’s holding its breath. She carefully climbs the stairs to the bedroom you both share, one uncertain step at a time. The door is slightly open, and you're standing by the window, your silhouette thin and brittle.

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks as she stops a few feet from you. Your eyes are closed, and your body trembles. Though she should be consumed by fear, her only desire is for you to open your eyes, hoping to find the person she fell in love with over a decade ago still there.

“What did you do? Did you cause his ‘accident’?” she continues. But you remain silent, unmoving. “Y/N?”

Still, nothing. Wanda is slowly but surely losing her sanity.

“Did you hurt him? You did, didn’t you? Jesus, Y/N. Talk to me,” Wanda pleads, and then out of desperation she screams, “Tell me what you did!”

“No!” You roar with a primal intensity, reminiscent of a wounded animal in the wild, and the sheer force of it makes Wanda recoil. But she doesn't move away from you. Not at this crucial moment, when she senses how close she is to losing you. “You tell me what you did!”

You stalk towards her menacingly, until you're mere breaths away, and Wanda wants to reach out and touch you, but she knows she'll be burned.

“How you fucked him over and over and over! How you lied to me… over and over and over,” you tell her brokenly.

“Y/N, please–”

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me now,” you say, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “You didn’t think I’d know? I wouldn’t feel it? I knew from the very first night. Because I know you, Wanda. Every thought. Every look. Every fiber of your being. I know you and I fucking hate you! I didn’t want to hurt him, I wanted to hurt you!”

The confirmation she's been dreading, along with the murderous glint in your eyes, saps the color from Wanda’s face. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, hand clamping over her mouth in horror. “Y/N…”

You try to walk away, but your legs give out, and you crumple to the ground, knees first, like a puppet with its strings cut. The tears flow freely now, unburdened by pride or anger. A raw, guttural sob escapes your lips, echoing the pain in your chest. Wanda, too, collapses, a mirror reflection of your despair, her body shaking as sobs rack her frame.

How could she have ever been afraid of you, especially knowing what you've been through? Beneath it all, she sees the woman she deeply loves, now appearing so fragile and torn apart, all because of her own mistakes. “I'm so sorry...” she whispers, her apology a mere drop in the ocean of hurt between you.

“Was there anyone else aside from him?” you ask suddenly, looking at the carpeted floor before you.

“No,” Wanda answers earnestly.

You offer a wry smile. “He must be really special then.”

She frantically shakes her head. He's not. No one is. It's always been—

“Do you love him?”

“No,” Wanda responds hastily, almost too hastily for your taste. And by the look on your face, she's crushed by the realization that no matter what she says next, your trust in her words may be irrevocably broken. “I thought I did, but no,” she admits. She can't bear the thought of deceiving you further and aims to leave no question unanswered.

“Did you…” you start, staring intently at the ceiling, and Wanda knows exactly what you’re asking even before it comes out of your mouth. The fact that you have to ask leaves her utterly heartbroken.

“...ever love me?”

This was her doing. The very second she acted on impulse and succumbed to temptation was when she truly lost you.

“I love you,” Wanda murmurs, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours, stubborn for her words to reach you. “I know how fucked up that sounds to you right now. But I do, I love you, Y/N.”

“You love me?” your voice falters, making you wince. “You have a truly unique way of showing it.”

How does she prove it? How can she make you believe? Wanda scrambles for tactics, for miracles, for a do-over.

“After all this,” you continue, “you might as well have killed me. Being dead might be painless compared to this.”

“Baby, please don't say that,” Wanda's voice breaks, choked by tears she can't hold back. She feels the urge to reach out, her fingers itching to touch you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Even hearing you say my name makes me sick.” Your voice is steady, each word dripping with cold resentment.

“You can stay,” you say after a while. Wanda senses a fragile hint of hope blossoming within her. But it's quickly crushed when you add, “Stay in this house, for as long as you need. But I'm leaving.”

And it’s here where the panic sets in. The realization that she's on the brink of losing you entirely, not just emotionally but physically as well, hits Wanda like a freight train. The walls of the room seem to close in on her, and the weight of her decisions and mistakes press heavily on her shoulders, making her feel as if she's sinking.

“No,” she whispers. “Please, don't go.”

You start to slide your wedding ring off, and that’s when Wanda loses it. She launches herself at you, capturing your lips into a heated kiss. In the split-second it takes for the golden loop to slip off your finger, a flood of memories rushes over Wanda—the scent of rain as it patters on the roof of the reception, the song playing in the background as you and Wanda sway to your first dance as a married couple, the warmth of your hand intertwined with hers. Those fragments play in a demented, rapid slideshow, and time stretches and contracts, maddeningly so.

For Wanda, it feels like someone's drilled a hole in the base of her skull, letting all the sorrow rush in like a merciless flood. Everything else is white noise. For that brief instant when her lips slot against yours, you don’t push her away. Wanda pours everything she has into this kiss, hoping you'll feel her truth in it. But then, before she even has the chance to deepen it, you’re pulling away and it’s—

It’s over.

Stubborn as always, Wanda tries to hide in your neck, and you feel her tears sliding down your throat. She clings to you with all her might, holding on for as long as she can. But when she feels you gently place your wedding ring into her palm, her face crumples with a pain so profound, she knows she may never recover from it. And then you begin to rise, lifting yourself from the floor. As she instinctively clings to your leg, you take another step, causing Wanda to stumble forward from the sudden loss of support.

“This can't be the end. It just can't,” Wanda murmurs to herself like a mantra, as if repeating it will change the course of reality. She's almost certain you hear her, but it doesn't change your stride; you just keep walking away.

The ring burns in her palm, a searing reminder that her promise of loving and cherishing you always means nothing to you now.

Wanda can't quite figure out how, but you've chosen to remain in the guest bedroom for the evening. She'd heard the engine of your car roar to life, but then it fell silent after just a few moments. Peering out, she’d seen you stepping out of the car, phone pressed to your ear.

Who had you been talking to? An intense curiosity had consumed Wanda, making her wonder who had been on the other end of that call. In the short window they'd been estranged—no, just temporarily separated, because Wanda refused to believe that you'd entirely lost your affection for her—could there have been someone else? Someone waiting in line for their turn?

Now, she stands hesitantly in front of the guest bedroom door, hands clenched in her sides, torn between giving you space and continuing to fight for her marriage. She's torn, but not clueless. It's not just about barging in or holding back; it's about the aftermath. She stands there, frozen, trying to figure out which move won't blow everything to smithereens. Because the time she has with you is running out and there might not be a tomorrow.

Or a you and her. Ever again.

Wanda finally sinks to the floor, her back flush against the cold, indifferent wood of the door. Sparky, pads over, his little claws making almost no sound against the floor. He nestles himself on her lap, making his bed there for the night. She wraps her fingers around his soft fur, his warmth seeping into her, but his presence is a double-edged sword. As much as she adores him, he's going to be the only thing of you she gets to keep, and it's going to be a painful reminder from here on out.

In an act of despair, she presses an ear flat against the door, searching for the tiniest murmur, the faintest shuffle. Anything to tell her what's happening on the other side of this barrier. A barrier that was never there before. She's on the outside, and the thought that you're moving on, building a life sans her, is terrifying.

It's a cruel irony, she realizes. Here she is, just a few inches from you, yet completely and utterly in the dark. And so, she sits, hoping against hope, that at some point during the night, she'd hear the door creak open, and you’d scoop her in your arms and take her back.

She waits, because that's what love does—it waits, even in the darkest of times.

The next morning, Wanda wakes up, surprised to find herself in a bed instead of on the hard, cold floor. She doesn't recall making the trip, but the idea that you cared enough to ensure she slept on something warm and comfortable almost makes her heart leap out of her chest.

However, her happiness is short-lived as she opens the closet and discovers that some of your things are missing. To a stranger, the differences wouldn't be obvious, but she knows which shirt and trousers you chose, and she understands the implication. It means you won't be returning tonight, and perhaps not tomorrow either. When she goes to the bathroom, she finds only one toothbrush, and that's enough to make tears well up in her swollen eyes once more.

“Thanks for picking up,” Wanda says, her fingers gripping the phone tight, holding onto it like she’s drowning and it’s her only lifeline.

“Well, you've called enough times. Figured I'd give you a break,” Natasha's voice, though distant, is biting, as frigid as the coldness that Wanda has been feeling in her bones these past days.

“I need to know where she is. Please.”

A sigh on the other end, followed by a chilling silence. “You think after everything, you still have the right to know her whereabouts?”

“She's still my wife,” Wanda counters, but it’s weak.

“She was your wife,” Natasha fires back, unrelenting. “The last I checked, people who love their partners don't sleep with college kids.”

The words hit Wanda harder than any physical blow could. She's taken aback, gasping for air as if she's been sucker-punched.

“I—”

“She loved you,” Natasha continues ruthlessly, “more than you ever deserved. And you threw it away, for what? Some fleeting thrill?”

Loved? Past tense? Had Natasha just assumed—

Or was that word coming directly from you?

Pushing down the slightest twinge of sympathy that threatens to surface, Natasha picks up on Wanda's faint, broken breaths on the other end. She can tell Wanda's on the verge, and it's familiar, too familiar. It's almost exactly the sound she caught when she was on the phone with you the other night.

“I never meant for this to happen,” Wanda barely manages to say.

“Well, it did,” Natasha snaps, her voice cold. “Intentions don’t change actions. And actions have consequences.”

Wanda’s voice comes off a little strong this time, thick with conviction. “Maybe I deserve this, Natasha. Maybe it’s my time to pay for all the wrongs I’ve done.”

“You think?” Natasha scoffs.

“But you... you’ll never get it. You’ll never understand why I can’t just let go, why I can’t give up on her,” Wanda says.

“And why’s that?”

Wanda's voice trembles with the knowledge that what she's about to say is a cheap blow. “Because you've never been married. You've never committed yourself to someone in the way I have with her.”

That stings, and Natasha can feel her own anger rising.

“Don’t think for a second that just because I’m not married, I don’t understand commitment, pain, or betrayal,” she says, voice low and measured.

Wanda swallows hard. “I didn't mean to—”

“Of course you didn't. But here we are, yet again,” Natasha cuts her off. She sighs, leaning back in her chair, “I’m not telling you where she is. She needs time, Wanda. Time away from you. If she wants to talk, she’ll find you.”

That's the last thing Wanda wants. She worries that distance will solidify your resolve, turning her from an immediate regret to a distant afterthought.

“I need to see her, Natasha,” Wanda pleads, “Just tell me where she is.”

“Why? So you can make things even worse?”

After a tense pause, Wanda plays her last card, “Remember that night after we all went out? The night you and Bruce...” she trails off, not needing to complete the sentence.

Natasha stiffens, instantly knowing where this is headed. “Don’t you dare, Wanda.”

Wanda forges on, “I never told anyone, never used it against you. I kept your secret. You owe me, Natasha.”

The feeling of Bruce's hand against her cheek, the humiliation, the denial—all of it comes rushing back. She never thought Wanda would throw that night back in her face.

“You're really going there?” Natasha laughs hollowly.

“I’m desperate, Natasha. I love her. I can’t lose her,” Wanda’s voice breaks.

The line goes quiet, stretching seconds into what seems like hours. Finally, Natasha exhales heavily, the weight of the decision clear in her tone. “I'll give you an address. Show up, try to talk to her, but if she asks you to leave, you respect her wishes. Understand?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She knows Natasha can enforce her terms if she wants, which means she has no other choice but to comply. “Understood.”

Natasha's parting words would later linger in her mind for hours.

“This doesn't mean I've forgiven you or that she ever will. But you get your shot. Make it count.”

Wanda’s been standing outside the diner for what feels like a long time. She hopes her outfit—a parka over a crisp white v-neck and high-waisted jeans—makes a good impression. A glance in the reflection of the diner’s window confirms her red hair looks glossy and radiant, cascading in waves down her back.

Time and time again, Wanda had turned over every conceivable strategy to win you back. But in the end, they all hinged on the one thing she feared most: agreeing to a divorce. The very thought threatened to break her from the inside, but her desperation to make things right, to show you that she's changed, made this painful decision a necessary one. Wanda had taken so much from you, taken everything you had to offer and discarded it carelessly. Now, it was her turn to give something back, even if it meant letting you go, legally.

She tells herself, repeatedly, that their love story isn't defined by a marriage certificate. They won't end just because their marriage does. She had to believe this; it was the only way she could find the strength to move forward.

Steeling herself, Wanda takes one step forward. Another. Until finally, she’s there.

“Hey,” Wanda greets, doing her best to sound casual as she slides into the booth opposite you.

You give a nonchalant nod, mouth full of your Reuben sandwich. “Hi, Wanda.”

The scent of your cologne is the first thing that hits her, and it’s... different. This one's sharper, crisper, with a hint of citrus, perhaps. It's as if you're purposely shedding parts of yourself that she's grown accustomed to, distancing yourself in the most elemental ways. There's a new watch on your wrist, sleeker than the one she gifted you on your last anniversary. Even the way you hold yourself seems altered, shoulders squared and posture more rigid. Every detail screams of a transformation, a conscious effort to morph into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But why? To hurt her? To move on? To forget? All of the above? It's been just a week, yet the differences are already evident. Wanda dreads to think how much more will change if she goes months without seeing you.

This isn’t going to be easy, and that’s putting it mildly. “Sorry for cornering you like this. You rarely return my calls and it’s been almost impossible to match our schedules,” Wanda admits.

You concentrate on chewing your food, trying to appear perfectly disinterested in what she’s saying. As you take another bite of your sandwich, Wanda studies her intently, looking for any fleeting sign of emotion, but there’s nothing there but a chilling detachment.

“Natasha told me you’re already talking to divorce lawyers,” she continues. She's woken up next to you for more than a decade; she’s not easily deterred by the display of indifference. “If you’re decided that it’s what you really want, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll cooperate.”

“Okay.”

Wanda notices the fleeting moment your eyes dart to her left ring finger before you quickly look away.

“I, uh, got something for you,” she says.

“No, thanks.”

Wanda’s heart sinks as you dismiss her before even knowing what it is. Determined, she pulls out the small ring box and places it on the table, feeling a pang in her chest. “But it belongs to you,” she murmurs.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your wedding ring,” she says, pointing out what you already know. Your expression darkens, frustrated that she misses the underlying meaning of your question—not about the ring itself, but rather its significance right now.

For a split second, Wanda harbored a fragile hope that seeing the ring might stir something within you.

But then you're shaking your head, beginning to say, “I don’t want—”

“I understand,” she says, her shoulders sagging as she leans back into the booth. “But I'm returning it to you, and I’m keeping mine. What you decide to do with it is up to you. However, holding onto it on your behalf isn't something I can do.”

The ring she slipped onto your finger five years ago held all her promises, all her devotion to you. So it hurt that you no longer accepted that, no longer recognized it as yours. And she didn't want to be the guardian of that pain anymore.

“Fine,” you say, reaching for the tiny box and Wanda releases a heavy sigh of relief.

“So, you've got your ring back, and I'll sign the divorce papers once they're drawn up,” she says, mustering all her courage for what she's going to say next. “And then, I'll come for you.”

She watches in surprise as you nearly spit out your coffee, a few droplets escaping past your lips. As you hurriedly reach for a napkin, Wanda can't help but offer a gentle smile, always finding your occasional clumsiness endearing even in the middle of breaking her heart.

Your wide-eyed stare meets hers, speechless.

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by a melancholic self-awareness. “I didn’t want to believe you when you told me that night that you hated me. But I guess that’s better than indifference.”

“I don't hate you, Wanda,” you say. She can tell you're telling the truth, and she smiles a little at that.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she laments. “Thank you.”

She takes a deep breath, knowing she needs to be clear, to lay everything on the table. “I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. On us. What we have, and I’ve thought a lot about it, is something I’ll never find in another.”

“I’m not telling you this to get a reaction out of you,” she continues, “I know you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of me pursuing you, but,” she falters, the first sign of her vulnerability. “This time, I want you to know everything. I don’t want you to be blindsided by my intentions, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”

“Wands,” you say, the nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips, and she has to fight the instinctual urge to reach for your hand across the table. “You can’t torture yourself like this.”

“I’m not,” she assures you. “I just refuse to give up on my dream.” She senses the skepticism in your eyes, and she can't blame you, not after everything that happened in the recent weeks. You’re my dream, Wanda had confidently and lovingly written in her vows. The memory of that day, with the weight of those words, is as vivid in your mind as it is in hers.

She's always been the type to hold onto what she loves, never letting go without a fight. But seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the sunken weight of your cheeks, she knows the very sight of her is taking a toll on you. And so, she’s leaving, for your sake.

“I'll see you soon,” Wanda says, getting up to leave. She hesitates for a moment, considering whether to go for your cheek, if you'll allow her. However, the lack of response from you pushes her to take small, shaky steps toward the door and out of the restaurant.

It isn’t over. Wanda’s made up her mind: she won't give up on you. Maybe she's the villain in this story; and hell, there's probably someone out there, all primed and polished, perfectly poised to love you without the scars and rough edges. Except, she doesn’t care, even if she knows she’ll be diving headfirst into the storm.

She swears that someday she'll be on her knees, asking you to marry her again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #natasha romanoff #vision

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lee-laurent · 6 months ago

Text

Summer Boy Pt. 2 - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn and Elwyn find themselves caught in a web of lies as they attempt to hide their feelings from their friends. Luke, however, still wants the girl and he's willing to overlook his morals to get her.

Content: angst, fluff, (sort of) unrequited love, mentions of sex, slut-shaming, panic attacks, luke being an ass

Part 1

notes: ok ok, you guys are amazing! i could never expect my first post to do that well! (also if you haven't seen my about me post, english is NOT my first language!! so spelling errors and stuff i try catch but i'm learning :)) i had a lot of ppl ask for a part 2, which is awesome cause i was planning on doing it regardless of how much attention the first part got! i haven't written in years, like since high school so this is me attempting to get back into it :D thank you again everyone, much love! - lee

p.s. ppl that asked for part 2 are tagged at the end :))

Quinn was infatuated with Elwyn. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes. Even when she'd get a little too drunk and trip over herself, he still thought she was graceful. If he wasn't in love with her already, then he definitely was now. And he wanted to shout him from the rooftops, he wanted everyone on the lake to know how much he loved Elwyn... however there was a small issue: his brothers.

Jack and Elwyn had been friends their entire lives. They were attached at the hip. Twin flames. Growing up adults always said they'd end up married, which both of them thought was disgusting. Sure, they'd been each others' first kiss, but after "learning" how to make out together they decided it wasn't meant to be. They could never see each other in a romantic light. Although Jack could never be with Elwyn, he had made it clear that his brothers couldn't either. Elwyn had been off limits since they were ten and Quinn gave her a puck at one of his games.

Luke. Where to start with Luke? Luke hadn't found Elwyn cute until she came to visit in Jersey after he signed. She'd walked into Jack's apartment, a smile on her face and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. When did Elwyn get... hot? She'd always just been his older brother's best friend. Sure, he knew of the crush his eldest brother harboured, but he was positive Quinn would never act on it. Plus, she lived closer to Luke. If he could convince Jack, maybe he'd have a chance. A chance he was still begging for.

"Come on, Jack. Let me take her on one date!" Luke pleaded, following his brother around the pool table.

"No. You're my brother and I love you, but El can do way better."

"I- I'm not going to break her heart, Jack. One date."

"Maybe she doesn't want to date you," Jack shrugged, lining up his shot.

"Okay, then she'll reject me and I can move on. But we all saw her when we played beer pong."

"Don't be cocky, Rusty. El is a touchy drunk, always has been."

"So I can ask her on a date?"

"No."

Luke groaned, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"Who's he not asking out?" Quinn asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Elwyn."

Quinn choked on his spit, "You want to ask out, Winnie?"

"Yeah! You've seen her. She's a smokeshow."

"Ew. Don't talk about El like that," Jack grimaced.

"I mean have you seen her ti-"

"Luke! Ew! Dude."

"Shut up, Jack. If she wasn't your best friend, you'd also think she's hot."

Quinn remained silent, watching the scene unfold. He felt gross listening to Luke talk about Elwyn like that. He'd be the first to admit she was fine as hell, but hearing someone else say it felt wrong. The two younger brothers continued to bicker about the attractiveness of the girl, when Quinn finally piped up.

"Are you letting him?"

"Letting him what?" Jack's brow furrowed.

"Ask her out."

"Hell no! Winnie is off limits for brothers."

"So if I asked her out?" Trevor smirked, joining the three brothers.

"No. That applies to friends and teammates too."

"Lame," Trevor whined, leaving to find Cole.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Anyway. No one is asking out Elwyn. She doesn't even like hockey boys."

Quinn felt his heartdrop. She doesn't like hockey boys? Was she just stringing him along cause she was horny? He thought she liked him, though she'd never explicitly said it, he thought the moments they'd shared were proof enough.

Elwyn was humming along to the song playing from her phone, while she attempted to do her hair. A knock came from the door behind her, leading to press pause on the melodies of Chappell Roan.

"Come in!"

"You don't like hockey boys?"

"Huh?" She swiveled around on her chair to face the boy in her doorway. There stood a sheepish looking Quinn, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I said, 'you don't like hockey boys?'"

"Who told you that?"

"Jack."

"Oh, um, I mean... they're not normally my type."

"So you don't like me?"

"Quinn, I didn't say that. Don't twist my words," she sighed, turning back towards the mirror.

"But you haven't said otherwise."

"Neither have you."

Quinn sighed, quietly shutting the door behind him. He stood behind her and pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, wrapping his arms around her.

"Elwyn, I like you. I like you a lot."

She pursed her lips and nodded, leaning back into his chest.

"I like you too, Quinn."

"Is this the part where we have the best sex of our lives?" he smirked, earning a gasp and slap to his peck.

"Quinn!"

"Sorry, sorry. So... later?"

"Get out!" she giggled, pushing him away.

Fifteen minutes later, El left her room, running straight into someone's chest.

"Oof."

"Hey, Ellie."

"Oh, hey, Luke," she smiled, stepping back.

"Some of the guys and I are gonna watch a movie, if you want to join."

"Sure."

"Sick. Basement in 10?"

"Sounds good."

However, when she got down to the basement, there were no spots left. The guys had taken up the couch and all the chairs, even the floor was occupied. El looked around awkwardly, noticing the lack of both Quinn and Jack, who she was told went to the grocery store.

"Here," Luke smiled, scooting over slightly. She responded with a tight-lipped smile, sitting "next" to him. It was more like she was sitting on him. El could've sworn she heard Ethan snicker when she sat down.

The movie the boys at chosen was terrifying. Elwyn could normally do scary movies, but this one was getting to her. She jumped as the villain appeared on screen again. Luke wrapped his arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.

"You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm good," she smiled politely.

Another jumpscare and Elwyn had fallen completely onto Luke's lap. She wasn't upset about it though, it was comforting in the moment. Dylan had taken notice of the position that Luke was in and elbowed Mark and Ethan. They all "discreetly" turned to look at the two, who looked rather comfortable. Elwyn jumped again, hiding her face in Luke's neck.

"This movie is terrifying," she whispered.

"It's ok, Winnie. I've got you."

It was in that moment that she realized the position she was in. Fully cuddled up on Luke's lap, one of his hands on her waist, the other on her thigh. What would Quinn think if he walked in right now? What would Jack think?

"I need to use the bathroom," she scrambled to get off of Luke.

"Oh, we can pause the movie."

"No, it's okay. I'll, uh, I'll be back."

She ran up the stairs, locking herself in Jack's ensuite. What was she doing? She couldn't let Luke get any ideas. She really liked Quinn. But oh my god, what would Jack think? Would he kick her out? Surely, he'd murder her before his brothers. They were his family, she was replaceable. Maybe she should end things with Quinn. Tell him it wasn't worth the strain it would cause on their relationships with Jack. But then again she'd already done things with him, would Jack even forgive her for that?

"Oh my god. I can't breathe," she gasped, splashing cold water on her face.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour. She had to stop seeing Quinn. Maybe she could just avoid him. Jack was more important. She had too. The more she thought about it, the more difficult it became to breathe.

She sat down on the floor, trying her breathing exercise again.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Finally she felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing return to normal. She wasn't going to let boys ruin her trip with her best friend. Nope. Plan: Avoid Quinn Hughes at All Costs, starts now!

"What did I do?" Quinn mumbled as he watched Elwyn interact with Jack. She hadn't even shot him a smile when he walked in the door from shopping, she'd gone straight to Jack. They were giggling amongst themselves while they cut up fruit for dinner.

She looked just as happy as she had this morning, but now she was pretending he didn't exist. He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her and she flinched, scooting closer to Jack.

As the night progressed, it became more obvious to the boy that she was ignoring him. She hadn't even looked his way once all night. Too busy keeping up with Jack, following him around like a lost puppy. He even tried shooting her a text, which was ultimately left on read.

Q: Hey, is everything okay? You seem off tonight.

Nothing.

It wasn't until she was closing her bedroom door to get changed that he caught a moment alone with her. She shrieked when her door opened, clutching her shirt to chest.

"Oh my god! Have you ever heard of knocking? I'm getting changed!"

"Why have you been ignoring me?"

Elwyn rolled her eyes, turning her back to him. so she could continue getting changed.

"Winnie?"

She exhaled loudly.

"Elwyn?"

"Maybe I just don't want to talk to you, Quinn."

"But- what did I do?"

"I'm trying to get ready for bed."

"El, just talk to me. Please. I thought we were getting somewhere."

She could hear the sadness and disappointment dripping from his words. It made her want to cry, knowing it was her fault he was feeling that way.

"I'd like to go to sleep now."

"El," he reached forward, grabbing her wrist and spinning her to face him. "What is going on? If I did something, I'm sorry."

"We can't, Quinn."

"Wha- we can't what?"

"We can't do this. We can't be together. Fling or not. It's not fair to Jack."

"Not fair to Jack? You shutting me out, isn't fair to me! Not everything revolves around Jack! You're an adult, he doesn't get to make decisions for you!" Quinn seethed, his face heating up.

"Don't yell at me."

"Don't yell at you?! Then don't be Jack's mindless little minion, Elwyn! Jesus fucking Christ!"

"I- I'm not," she whispered, blinking away tears.

"Yeah, well you sure fucking act like you are," he left, slamming the door behind him.

"What was that?!" she heard Jack yell.

"The wind!" Quinn lied, storming off to his room.

Elwyn couldn't hold back her tears anymore, sliding to the floor. She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. How could he say that to her? She thought she was doing the right thing. She never imagined it could've gone that poorly.

Quinn couldn't sleep, he was too angry. Why did Elwyn let Jack dictate her life? She could be with whoever she wanted, she was a grown woman. So what if Jack was mad at them for a day? He'd get over it. If he could just get her to realize that he was there for her, no matter what happened-

A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. Elwyn quietly opened and shut the door, sitting herself on the edge of his bed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I thought I was doing what was right."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you, El. But you have to communicate with me. You can't just shut me out, especially if you want to make this work."

"But what about Jack?"

"Elwyn. He loves you. You're his best friend. He'll get over it. I promise."

"I hate lying to him."

"Keeping a secret isn't lying."

"I just-"

"Come here," he opened his arms, Elwyn climbing into the bed next to him. He kissed her slowly. He wanted to show her how much he cared about her. Loved her even. She ran a hand through his hair, giggling when he nipped at her bottom lip.

"Think we can stay quiet?" she whispered.

"Easily."

"Quinn! Wake up! The boys wanna go out on the boat! And have you seen El? Jack said she isn't in her-" Luke stopped dead in his tracks. A bare back faced him, the sheets barely covering her waist. "Holy shit."

Luke ran down the stairs, taking his place at the table.

"You okay, Rusty? Looks like you've seen a ghost," Trevor joked.

"Hm? Yep. All good. Great even."

"Okay? Did you wake up Quinn?"

"Um... yeah. Yeah. He'll be down soon."

"Did you find El? I'm getting worried," Jack mentioned, sitting next to his brother.

"I-"

"Morning!" Elwyn smiled.

"There you are! You weren't in your room, I was worried," Jack hugged her.

"Yeah, fell asleep in the basement watching TV. Was having trouble falling asleep."

"All good! Glad you're okay. Is Quinn awake up there?"

Luke watched something flicker in her eyes at the mention of Quinn.

"Yep, he's just brushing his teeth."

As if on cue, Quinn came thumping down the stiars. A smile plastered on his face. Luke felt sick. It seemed that Quinn had finally gotten his dream girl, but at the expense of both of his brothers' feelings.

"Sorry, guys. Didn't sleep well," Quinn explained, grabbing some cereal.

"That's funny. Neither did Elwyn," Luke smirked.

"Oh. Funny coincidece," El shrugged, eyes darting everywhere but at the youngest Hughes.

"Must've been something in the air last night," he continued.

El furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What was Luke going on about? Surely he didn't know that she'd slept with Quinn last night? Quinn had assured her they'd been silent. They even put a pillow behind the headboard like teenagers hiding from their parents.

"So... boat day?" Quinn offered, feeling the growing tension in the kitchen

"Yes!" Jack cheered, "Come on, El. I'll help you with your sunscreen."

"Coming," she followed after him, shooting a concerned look at Quinn, who just shrugged in response.

"So, Quinn... anything you want to share with the class?" Luke asked.

"Um? No?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah?"

"Positive? Nothing you want to share about Elwyn?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know."

"Luke, I don't know what you're implying."

"So, why was Elwyn naked in your bed this morning when I went to wake you up?"

"She wasn't," Quinn replied quickly, maybe too quickly.

"I know Elwyn when I see her, Quinn."

"Luke, I didn't sleep with Elwyn."

"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack's voice joined the conversation and suddenly you could hear a pin drop.

"I-"

"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack repeated, his voice increasing in volume.

"No, I know your rules, Jack."

"He's lying! I saw her in his bed this morning! That's why you couldn't find her!"

"Shut up, Luke!" Quinn sneered.

"No, please continue, Luke. I'd love to know what else Quinn is hiding from me."

"That's it, I think. I just saw her in his bed when I went to wake him up. Looking less than dressed."

"Jack, I don't know what he's talking about," Quinn pleaded.

"Bullshit! I-"

"Why's everyone yelling?" Elwyn's voice was soft compared to the rest of the conversation. Her nails were dug into her palms, surely leaving behind little crescent shaped indents. Worry filled her eyes.

"El..." Quinn breathed.

"Care to explain yourself, Elwyn?" Jack snapped.

"I'm confused."

"Don't act all innocent now when you were spreading your fucking legs for my brother last night!"

"I-"

"You what? Are acting like a slut?! Then yeah, you're right."

"I'm not a slut," her bottom lip quivered. Quinn was quick to get in front of her, feeling the sudden need to protect her from his brother's vicious words.

"She's not a slut, Jack. You don't control her."

Jack was at a loss for words. Quinn was right he didn't control her, but he could still be pissed at his brother.

"Fine, I don't control, Elwyn. She's a grown woman. But you, Quinn, you- you broke my rules! You took advantage of her!"

"How did I 'take at advantage of her'?" he air quoted.

"You-you..."

"You have no argument here, Jack. And you, Luke... what gives you the right to tell him? When you were trying to get with Elwyn too?"

"I'M NOT AN OBJECT!" her outburst made everyone jump, "Stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here! God! You're acting like children! Quinn, give me your car keys?"

"What? Why?"

"I'm going home."

"You're-"

"El, no. Please," Jack pleaded.

"You just called me a slut! You think I want to stay here with you? Ha! You are crazy."

"Babe, please."

"Don't 'babe' me, Quintin. Give me your keys," she demanded, reaching her hand out.

"No. You're angry. You shouldn't drive like this."

"Fine. I'll fucking walk home!" she threw her arms up, storming out the front door.

The group of boys stood around the kitchen staring at the Hughes brothers. Were they not going to go after her? Apologize? Boat day definitely wasn't happening.

It was getting dark out, Quinn and Jack were beyond worried. Jack was pacing the living room, his head snapping to the door every time there was a noise outside. Quinn was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, sending text after text to El. No answers. Luke and their friends were in the back, drinking and pretending all was well.

"Should we go looking for her?" Jack asked.

"I think that'd just scare her off."

"But what if someone snatches her off the street? It's getting dark out. She's been gone all day, Quinn."

"She'll come back."

"Stop pretending like you know her better than I do just because you slept with her! I know my best friend."

"Jack, can we not fight right now? We have more important things to worry about."

Jack just sighed. He was worried about El, but her sleeping with Quinn was still in the background of all his thoughts.

"Can I just ask why? Like was it to rub it in my face? To get back at me for something?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Jack. It's about Elwyn. I really like El. I've liked El since we were kids. And she finally showed me that she feels the same way. I'm- I'm happy with her."

"She- you love her, don't you?"

"It's too soon to say that."

"Quinn..."

"Yeah... I do. I... I do."

"Shit. She probably hates me."

"I mean, you did slut-shame your best friend."

"Right."

"If we're giong to blame anyone for this mess though, I think we blame Luke. El and I were going to tell you. But Luke kind of jumped the gun."

"Really? You were going to tell me?"

"Yeah, I mean last night... we talked about it."

"I guess that makes me feel a bit better."

Quinn was about to apologize, but the front door creaked open. A sniffle and the sound of shoes hitting the ground made Quinn jump up.

"El?"

She just stared at them, arms crossed over her chest.

"El. I'm so sorry," Jack wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't reciprocate the hug.

"That's nice. Are you done calling me a whore?"

"I didn't mean it, El. I was mad. It was heat of the moment."

"Yeah, well, I don't fucking appreciate it."

"Do- d'you think you can forgive me?"

"Yes, Jack. I'll forgive you," she chuckled.

El finally hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She turned her attention to Quinn, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hi, El."

"Quinn."

"I'll give you guys some space," Jack shot them finger guns, walking out backwards.

"El, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like an object. You're not an object. You're... you're Elwyn. And I- I love you."

"You love me?"

"Yeah, I do. I love you."

She bit back her smile, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

"Of course." Their lips met in a sweet, languid kiss. "I love you too, Quinn Hughes."

And their lips met again, smiles on their faces breaking it, ending in a fit of giggles. They finally had each other.

Tags:

@h0e4fictionalme-n @toasttt11 @homestylehughes @laheyxlover @dontknowhockey

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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bairdthereader · 6 months ago

Text

Charlie Spring, An Appreciation: Part 1, Courage

Nick Nelson gets a lot of love, and justifiably so; I'll be the first to admit that he's amazing (see my many Nick-related posts as evidence). But I hear all too often that Charlie is leveling up by being with Nick, or that Nick is too good for Charlie. I beg to differ—vehemently—and here's why, part 1 (of 3, maybe?).

I often find myself in awe of Charlie during some of the quietest and least dramatic parts of the Heartstopper show and comics, because his bravery, resilience, and tenacity are displayed in ways that seem inconsequential, but are actually incredibly meaningful and telling. This boy has a thread of steel running through him, whether it's obvious at first glance or not.

We see this almost from the very beginning, when Charlie is assigned to a new form and told that he'll be sitting next to Nick, "one of the rugby boys," and, "I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly." Here is not only Charlie's worst personal nightmare, but also a teacher who is blithely unaware of the terrible position he's just put Charlie in--being placed in close, daily proximity to the type of person Charlie associates with the darkest time of his life. But we don't see fear on his face, or even that much dread—this tells us so much about him in just a nanosecond. There's resignation and bitterness, yes, but Charlie knows he can withstand this, because he's been there before and survived. This is borne out in later conversations with Nick where Charlie assures him that "I'm used to it." This is a horrifying injustice, one Nick rightly calls out, and it shows Charlie's resilience in the face of a degree of cruelty that many people never experience.

This little moment outside of the changing room is another revealing scene. Charlie knows exactly what he's walking into, exactly the kinds of comments and sly bullying he's going to experience in that room. He knows he will have to have his guard up every second, that he will have to prove himself to this group, even though he shouldn't have to. He also knows he'll be fighting his own self-doubt, and so this experience will be a battle on two fronts. (Three fronts, if you include trying to hide his feelings for Nick.) But he does it anyway. Sure, you could argue he's doing it solely to be near Nick, but I think this is also his way of making sure that those boys don't dictate his actions or his life. This is Charlie taking a stand. And this is just one example—he does this over and over and over again, in many different settings and situations.

Case in point, calling it off with Ben. Charlie has been the victim of what is essentially brainwashing and abuse from Ben for months. Ben has told Charlie verbally and shown him physically that Charlie means less than nothing to Ben, and that Charlie can never expect anyone to ever want him or care for him. And Charlie often, tragically, believes him. That Charlie is able to break free of this vicious cycle and take the steps to distance himself from Ben shows his immense inner strength. You can see on Charlie's face (thanks to Joe Locke's inimitable talent) that he can't even believe he's done it. And we have to keep in mind that this happens long before Nick is a real possibility, so we can't say Charlie does this for Nick. He does it for himself.

I do have to include one of the more iconic scenes, because this ⬇️is Charlie's clarion call, his hope, his banner, for the rest of this story. He knows he has a lot of problems to work through, that he's complicated and sometimes hard to interpret, so it's easy to see this scene and think Charlie's words come from a place of insecurity (and of course that is some of what's happening here). But he's strong enough to both acknowledge it and ask honestly that Nick not let those parts of Charlie become the focus of their relationship. He requests, even during this moment of almost brutal honesty and vulnerability, that Nick see him completely, as the whole person he can be, because Charlie knows that person is there inside himself. The self awareness and bravery this takes is enormous.

There are a million other moments like this that I could write about, both big and small:

But I'll end this already lengthy post with this: When one considers the amount of sheer courage Charlie has to exert just to live his daily life, it almost defies understanding. Charlie Spring is a gladiator of the mind and heart, completely worthy of any good thing.

#charlie is strength personified #he deserves the world #heartstopper #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper series #alice oseman #osemanverse #charlie spring #joe locke #nick nelson #narlie #nick x charlie #nick and charlie #kit connor

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talaok · 1 year ago

Note

An idea for pedro and reader

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: ahh this is amazing how do you come up with stuff like this

"I know that face," he said, busting you immediately as you emerged from the bedroom.

He was sat on the couch, lazily half-reading something on his phone.

"what is it sweetheart?" he asked, as with a soft click, his phone went black

You bit back a smile "How do you know there is something?"

"Because you're very easy to read" he explained "Now tell me what you need"

"Excuse me? I'm not easy to read" you gasped

"No?" he asked rhetorically "Then what's up with the script in your hand?"

You glanced down at the papers between your fingers, feeling a soft veil of defeat land on top of you.

"Fine" you gave up, "Can you help with a scene?"

It wasn't unusual for you to run lines with each other, god only knows how many times he made you go through that scene from The Last of Us...

"of course" he nodded "What's it about?"

"Break up scene," you told him as you joined him on the sofa "I just feel like I'm missing something"

"What?"

"well I don't know" you laughed "That's why you're here"

"All right," he said, as you handed him the script.

"You just have to read the ones not underlined" you pointed to the paper

"Can do" he smiled, watching as you stood from the couch and ran your hands soothingly down your jeans.

"ok" you breathed closing your eyes for a moment to get in character.

Pedro took it as his cue to start

"baby I love you" he murmured as written.

"And I-" you stopped, your forehead creasing as if your next words physically pained you "I... I don't know if I do anymore" you spoke "I don't think so"

"what are you saying?" Pedro read again, his tone more clipped now, but you were too focused on your performance to notice the way his eyes had changed, had... saddened.

"I'm saying I don't feel that spark anymore, that-that I miss walking faster when I come home because I know that's where you are, that I can't remember the last time my heart swelled like it did on our first date"

Three long beats passed, before Pedro realized that was his cue

Something was happening inside of him.

He knew this all was fake, but a part of him couldn't help but wander on its own... sure it's just a scene now, but it's so real, people fall out of love constantly, and you- well, Pedro realized for an interminable, terrifying moment, that you weren't immune to it, that what was happening to Jeff in this scene could very well happen to him any day now.

He had always known he didn't deserve you, that you were too much, too perfect, too good, too kind to be with him.

And for the first time in a while, a dreaded thought crossed his mind.

What happens when she realizes it?

"Rose" he called, pulling himself out of his own thoughts

"I know" you sniffled, your eyes filled with tears now "I'm sorry jeff-I really am- I don't know what happened, I don't know what's wrong with me, I just know... I just know I don't love you anymore... I can't bring myself to anymore"

And that was it.

Pedro had to glance out the window to take his mind off of whatever was happening.

"It's perfect" he said, after taking a lungful of air "There's nothing missing sweetheart, you nailed it"

"but" you stuttered "the scene is not done baby, there's still-"

"I know" he shook his head, closing the script.

He didn't want that thing in his hands anymore

"But trust me it's perfect, you don't need any more practice"

"a-are you sure?" you asked, wiping away a leftover tear

"I am" he nodded "don't worry, you were incredible" he forced a smile "as always"

You grinned now "Oh well, if the Emmy nominee says so..." you considered, sitting back next to him "I guess I'm gonna have to believe you"

__ __ __

the rhythmic thumps of his heartbeat were the only sound you could hear from your place on the bed.

You were curled up against him, your head on his chest, and his fingers playing with your hair as his ability to emanate warmth better than any thermostat ever could, proved itself once again even on such a cold winter night.

"You've been quiet today" you finally spoke the thought that had been eating at you for hours.

He really had been.

When he didn't answer, you looked up at him, stopping drawing circles on his belly.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, wishing you could have had a clearer image of his face than the one the soft streetlamp from outside the window granted.

"No sweetheart, nothing's wrong," he said... but there was something in his tone that felt off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze.

"You know, I'm not the only one who's easy to read..." you murmured gently, as your right hand went to stroke his pecs soothingly "You can tell me whatever it is, you know?"

A beat passed, and then two, as silence spread around the darkness of the room

"I know baby, it's just" he sighed "it's stupid"

"I'm sure it's not" you reassured him "and it's not like I haven't told you my fair share of stupid things"

He let out a weak chuckle.

"c'mon" you urged sweetly

He looked at you for a moment, before finally making up his mind.

"it's just- " he breathed "the scene you wanted my help with..."

"what about it?" you asked, after he didn't finish the sentence.

"I-It made me think"

Oh shit, your heart faltered, was he about to break up with you?

"That that could happen in real life too, you know?" he swallowed thickly "that one day you could stop loving me"

"oh"

"and the thought of you leaving... of- of not having you by my side anymore... it just- I wouldn't know how to do it"

"Baby" you whispered, "what are you talking about?"

"you're too good for me y/n, and I guess I'm just scared that one day you'll realize it and just... leave"

"stop" You placed a hand on his lips to silence his nonsense "Baby, that was just a scene from a play"

"Yeah but stuff like that happens"

"well not to us" you promised "You're stuck with me forever, pretty boy, whether you want it or not"

"but-"

"no" you stopped him "no but. Pedro I love you" you breathed "I love you so much it actually hurts sometimes. So no, I'm not leaving"

You could now hear his heartbeat even if your ear wasn't placed above it anymore.

he looked at you, really looked at you, and slowly you watched the doubts melt from his irids.

"thank you" he said simply, leaning closer to you "and baby…I love you more"

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 11 months ago

Text

01/15/2024 Crew Recap

Hey all, today has been a very very very long day. I’m typing this with my eyeballs glazed over and half open. However, so much has happened in such a little amount of time I wanted share a few things before I pass out I know a lot of you are in different timezones, are busy with life, and taking a break, so maybe this will help with parsing through some of the crazy stuff the crew has been up to.

The petition hit 50K, and is at 52.5K at the moment

Fundraisers: I didn’t even realize there were two different fundraisers for Palestine/Gaza going on but we blew both out of the water. (Note: the second picture is from a November campaign but I think its just as important to highlight— ty for the correction anon!)

The Emmys hashtag turn out was great tonight. There was some pretty amazing and creative stuff going on across all the platforms. Some can be seen on IG, but if you wanna see the majority of it, check out twitter #SaveOFMD #75thEmmys

---We have new ways of protesting and advocating for our show, see here for the thread on tumblr (from twitter):---

And to support that @saltpepperbeard was kind enough to put together a wonderful guide on how to Call It Through as a Crew: Alleviating Some Phone Anxiety which as someone who is socially anxious and sometimes verbally vomits on people when on the phone, is AMAZING and thank you so much for doing that to help.

-- > There is also this new thread on some new places to call into. Don't quote me on that being an official thing we should do, I'm sure @renewasacrew and others will have more in the AM, I just wanted to share it so people could follow if they wanted to.

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

New Articles!

Our Flag Means Death: Here’s why season three deserves to be aired

Petition to save BBC show with rare Rotten Tomatoes score gets 50,000 signatures

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

There's so much more that's happened today-- but I can't write it all down because my brain is couscous.

<---So instead, I'm going to use this last part to gush over you all and your amazing contributions in all your unique ways. The community support the last few days has been SO INCREDIBLY UPLIFTING.-->

I saw (and experienced) people reblogging asks where random followers, anons, and mutuals just reached out and sent love because they could tell people were struggling.

I've seen comments all over the place on Tumblr, IG, Twitter, and Facebook where each and every person is encouraging each other to speak their mind, or complimenting their artwork, encouraging them if they were feeling uncomfortable with things outside their comfort zones, coming up with new and exciting ways to fight back, people reaching out to the cast/crew just to say hi and remind them we love them.

I've seen Self-Care checkpoints all over, reminding people to drink water, take a break, block your notifications for a while, not engaging in negative behavior.

I've seen people being so nice on instagram posts that the people who were being dicks about all our comments turned around and decided to watch OFMD!

I saw so many people doing new analysis of scenes and characters, and having really deep and friendly discussions that make everyone think in new ways.

I saw people digging through old tumblrs to bring life back to old posts and artwork.

I saw so much NEW artwork, new FICS! New GIFS! So much new art and love!

I could literally go on and on, but I've just...I had to dump this out of my brain otherwise I'd explode. I've just seen so much today that continues to make me so proud of our little safe space ship and so happy to be apart of this community.

You all continue to be the best of the best of humans, and I am so very grateful to get to witness and be apart of it. Rest up lovelies and have a good day / night, wherever you may be. May you dream of sexy middle-aged gay men kissing, or hugging, or whatever else you want them to be getting into.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #renew as a crew #rhys darby #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #save ofmd #ofmd s3 #renew our flag means death #renew ofmd #ofmd daily recap

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helloalycia · 9 months ago

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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: after Jackie humiliates you at a school party, you realise that she'll only ever see you as a kid and nothing more.

warning/s: mentions of cheating and underage drinking.

author's note: here’s part 2! glad you’re all liking it, this one was fun to write haha 🥰

I was supposed to be getting over Jackie, but it was impossible. Even when I was reminded that she was Jeff's girlfriend, I still couldn't seem to move on.

One time after a Yellowjackets game, Jeff and I were going on the pitch to congratulate her for leading her team to victory, and then she was reminding him to pick her up later for the after party and that was my cue to leave, but she asked me if I wanted to come.

"Oh, erm...," I started to answer, not really sure if I even wanted to go, but the look Jeff was giving me over Jackie's shoulder was answer enough. "It's not really my scene."

Jackie tried not to laugh as she studied me curiously. "You're in a band but you don't like parties?"

I smiled awkwardly. "A paradox, I'm aware."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully, before looking back to Jeff. "Guess it's just us."

"What a shame," he said sarcastically, before pulling her close, and they began to kiss and I tried not to throw up as I left them to it.

Six months of dating and I still wasn't used to it. I prayed and prayed I could be put off, trying to find a new girl to hyper-fixate on, at least long enough for me to get over Jackie, but it never seemed to work.

Another time, I was at home practicing with the band in the garage when I saw Jackie out front, getting out of Jeff's truck with him. I recalled my mum saying she was coming over today, but didn't really remember until now. It didn't matter anyway because I found myself subtly checking her out as she walked across the front pathway with him, listening intently to whatever he was saying. It couldn't have been very interesting – I loved my brother, but he could drone on sometimes – but she was eating it up anyway, smile tugging at her lips as she nodded along.

Today, she was wearing some denim shorts, a strappy top and a jacket, making me forget what anything and everything was as I followed her movement, possibly drooling a little. I couldn't help it! She was everything.

The feeling of something hitting the side of my head pulled me back into reality and I let out a yelp, looking in the direction it came from.

"Wipe your mouth and pay attention," Y/BF/N said with a teasing grin, and I realised she'd hit me with one of her drumsticks.

Aaron and Tommy stifled their laughter as I cleared my throat and embarrassingly picked up the drumstick. We continued to practice some songs we'd learnt, both original and more covers, preparing for a gig Tommy had scored us at some birthday party in the fancy side of town. It was going well for a while, and I almost forgot about the Jackie distraction, until she decided to stop by.

"Hey, Jackie," the others greeted her as she stopped before the open garage door, smiling at us all.

"Hey," she returned, before her eyes fell to me. "Y/N, hey. I could hear you all performing upstairs – you sound awesome!"

We all mumbled our thanks as she chuckled at our bashfulness.

"So, is it cheeky of me to ask if I can watch you practice?" she asked, tilting her head and fluttering her eyelashes convincingly.

It didn't matter whether you had a crush on Jackie Taylor or not, she simply had the power of compulsion, and none of us could deny her request. So, we performed a few songs for Jackie as she complimented each and every one, amazed by our massive improvement since she'd heard us perform that first time at the dance.

As Aaron and Tommy went to get some drinks from the kitchen for us, Jackie approached me with an impressed look.

"Every time I think you can't get cooler, you prove me wrong," she said jokingly. "And you have a pretty voice. You should sing more if you can."

I smiled awkwardly. "It's not that good. I prefer backing vocals. But thanks."

She laughed. "Humble too, love it. Well, you're nailing it on the keyboard and guitar."

"Yep, that's our Y/N for you," Y/BF/N butted in with a cheeky smile, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Super talented this one."

"That she is," Jackie agreed, looking at me knowingly.

"You're talented with your feet, but this one is talented with her fingers," Y/BF/N continued, and I knew what she was trying to say, but god, it came out so wrong.

As I tried to recover from her words, certain my cheeks were hotter than the sun, Jackie suppressed the urge to laugh and Y/BF/N stumbled over her next words.

"Not like that," she said quickly, "like with instruments, y'know? I mean– the keyboard and–"

I had never wanted to die so badly in my life.

"You saw her at soccer tryouts!" Y/BF/N settled with, only doing more to embarrass me as I remembered getting hit in the face. "It's why she didn't make the team."

At this, Jackie finally let out a laugh, covering her mouth to contain it when she saw my reaction.

"It's okay, clearly music was your calling," she assured me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Like Y/BF/N said. Better with your hands than your feet."

Oh, God.

The two of them laughing had me wanting the earth to swallow me up there and then.

—

The down side of having a sibling so close in age was being invited to the same parties, which meant seeing him and his girlfriend there when you really didn't want to.

My friends and I were at some house party, word having spread through my grade and Jeff's, and even though we hadn't talked to each other about going, I still bumped into him and Jackie in the kitchen.

"Y/N?" Jackie spoke first, surprised to see me. "I thought parties weren't your thing."

I paused, trying to think up something intelligible. "Just trying something new," I finally spoke.

She smiled with confusion. "Right... take care, yeah? There's seniors here and alcohol and–"

"I'm a year younger than you," I reminded her, a little annoyed she was treating me like a child, especially in front of my friends. "I'll be fine."

She sighed, unconvinced. "Right. Of course."

After exchanging a look with Jeff that meant 'avoid me at all cost', we all went our separate ways. Despite our distance from one another though, I felt like Jackie was keeping an eye out on me most of the evening. It was growing annoying, making me feel like a child whose mum was watching her play. I knew she probably meant it from a place of kindness, but it was frustrating.

Aside from that, the party was fun and I was having a blast with my friends. It was inevitable that we had a little to drink, but nothing that would have us regretting anything in the morning. At one point, I needed some air, feeling a little warm in the house and a bit tipsier than I probably should have been.

"You look hot," a girl said behind me, making me turn around, not recognising her. She must have seen my expression, as she amended with a laugh, "I meant warm, like sweaty. But yeah, you're hot, too."

Her confidence had me taken aback and I blinked, trying to let her words register in my glazed thoughts.

"I'm Eve," she introduced, before sitting one of the deck chairs in the garden.

"Y/N," I felt the need to do the same, sitting beside her. "I don't think I've seen you at school before."

"Same here," she said with a relaxed smile, no doubt as tipsy as I was. "I think I'd remember a pretty face like yours."

Again, I was surprised at how confident she was, and I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, but I wanted to give it a go myself. "You're pretty cute yourself, Eve."

She laughed. "Smooth."

I smiled with amusement, waving a hand. "I'm usually smoother, but you caught me on a bad day."

She snorted at my joke. "Sure I did."

We stayed chatting for a while, a little more flirtatiously than sober me could have ever managed, and I was very attracted to the dark haired girl who was the only thing on my mind right now. After about ten minutes, we somehow found ourselves leaning in, any chatter going out the window, and just when I thought I was about to get my first kiss off a really hot girl, someone interrupted.

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

I jumped apart from Eve with surprise, my eyes narrowing when I saw it was Jackie stood there, hands on her hips and fixing Eve with a glare.

"Jackie Taylor," Eve realised, looking to her with surprise that soon transformed into annoyance.

"Eve Perkins," Jackie said bitterly.

Now I was confused, standing up as Eve did. "Wait. How do you two know each other?"

Still glaring at Eve, Jackie answered, "Eve plays for the Lions soccer team."

I raised my brows with surprise. That explained why I'd never seen her at school before – she went to our rival school. Not that that mattered, but clearly it did to the captain of the Yellowjackets.

"Really? Making moves on sophomores?" Jackie asked Eve accusingly, and all it did was infantilise me and humiliate me.

"Jackie!" I scolded, to which she gave me a disapproving look.

"What? You're a kid, Y/N!" she told me in a manner that she definitely didn't have the right. "You shouldn't be here with her."

Eve, who clearly didn't sign up for any of this, rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She glanced at me before she left, adding, "See you around."

The alcohol was starting to make me nauseous, in addition to the utter humiliation I'd just suffered, and I instantly fixed Jackie with a glare.

"What the fuck, Jackie?!"

Dropping her arms by her side, she said, "What?"

"You had no right to do that!" I shouted at her, jabbing my finger in her shoulder. "You're only one year older than me, not my mum!"

Indifferent, she straightened up and held her stance. "I was just looking out for you, Y/N. You're–"

"No," I snapped, my head starting to hurt. "You're treating me like a fucking child."

Calmly, she said, "You're Jeff's little sister–"

"But not yours," I reminded her before rolling my eyes and storming off.

"Y/N, wait!" she called, but I ignored her as I headed back inside.

—

My first hangover wasn't one I wanted to remember, especially when I woke up with memories of every horrifying thing that occurred the night before. How the hell could Jackie do that to me in front of another girl? I couldn't believe she'd overstepped like that, treating me like a kid. I hated it. I hated that she only saw me as her boyfriend's little sister. Someone to look out for. Nothing more.

The Saturday after the party was spent with me wallowing in self pity and recuperating, but then the Sunday was even more annoying because Jackie was visiting Jeff. Just the sound of her voice frustrated me and I resorted to hiding in my room just to avoid her. Of course, she couldn't take the hint.

"Go away," I snapped at her when she let herself in my room when I didn't answer to her knocks. "Just because Jeff wants you here doesn't mean I do."

"Y/N, please, I'm so sorry," she said quickly, and I rolled my eyes, looking back to my notebook and pretending she wasn't here. "I was out of line."

Unable to stay quiet, I said, "Funny how you realise that now, huh? After you humiliated me?"

"It wasn't fair," she said guiltily.

I lowered my notebook, glaring at her. "I know it wasn't. But what could I expect from someone who only sees me as a kid?"

She rubbed the crease between her forehead as she sighed regretfully. "I didn't mean that."

I rolled my eyes and looked back to my notebook, ready to ignore her again, but she suddenly took a seat on my bed and took my notebook from my lap. Before I could protest, she gazed at me with her stupidly big convincing apologetic eyes.

"You're more mature than anyone in my grade," she told me truthfully. "It's nothing to do with age, the way I acted. I was just looking out for you because I care."

"Because of obligation," I corrected her bitterly, crossing my arms.

"No," she said with certainty. "Because I care. But... I shouldn't have reacted like that. Even if it was... Eve."

I considered her words, hating that she was already wearing me down. But she seemed sincere, and I never doubted it was from a place of kindness, though it was executed in the worst way possible. And to know she didn't view me as the kid I thought she did... it was reassuring.

"Why are you so bitter about Eve?" I asked, feeling like I'd missed something.

She pushed her hair out of her face as she struggled to find the words. "It's just a feud we've always had. She's captain of the Lions, the Yellowjackets' number one enemy. It's not your problem though."

I didn't know what to say, nor how to react, and she must've taken it the wrong way as she reluctantly glanced at me.

"If you like her, go for it," she said quietly. "I won't get involved again."

She sounded almost... disappointed. And now I felt stupid because it wasn't even about Eve, not really, and it was certainly not worth ruining my friendship – however circumstantial it was – with Jackie over.

"It was just flirting," I admitted, avoiding her eyes. "A kiss. Or almost kiss. I don't like her. I don't even know her. It was just a momentary thing... it's hard having someone be interested in me. Not everybody turns heads like you, Jackie."

Jackie pulled a face. "Are you crazy? Y/N, you're beautiful."

I rolled my eyes, not even sure why I was telling her this. "You're biased."

"No," she disagreed firmly. "You are."

Not in the mood to go back and forth about this, I said, "Look, it doesn't matter. Just... please stop treating me like this. It was humiliating."

"I promise," she said, resting a hand on my lap, palm facing upwards hopefully. "Do you forgive me?"

I glanced at her, seeing the puppy eyes she was giving me, probably without even realising. Yeah, she was always a head turner, and she'd never understand what it was like to be the opposite.

"Sure," I said, placing my hand in hers, eliciting a smile from her.

"Do you wanna join Jeff and I for a movie?" she asked, squeezing my hand before standing up.

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out."

She laughed, bringing a small smile to my lips. "Fair enough. Well... I'll see you later, Y/N."

"See you later."

—

16 years old.

Jeff and Jackie had been dating for a few years now, on and off and breaking up even more than usual lately, but I didn't doubt it any more than I usually did. That was where my first mistake laid.

He'd been out to a party with Jackie and Shauna, getting a ride with Shauna because his truck was getting a repair, and they'd pulled up outside the house about ten minutes ago. I couldn't care less, but my mum sent me outside to check what was up and also invite Shauna in for dinner, so that was why I headed out in the dark to knock on.

When I reached Shauna's truck, I lifted my hand to knock on the passenger door window, only to widen my eyes when I saw the impossible. Jeff and Shauna were kissing– no, that would be an understatement. They were full blown making out, her straddling him in the passenger's seat with their tongues down each other's throats.

They must have sensed my presence because they pulled apart with confusion before their eyes widened at the sight of me. Shocked, like I was the one who'd been caught, I lowered my hand and spun around to return to the house, but then I heard the door opening behind me and Jeff was calling after me.

"Y/N, just wait!" he shouted, before skidding to a halt before me. "It's not what you think."

I was still reeling from what I'd seen, glancing over my shoulder to see a mortified Shauna avoiding my eyes and driving away. Looking back to my brother, I saw the guilt in his eyes and knew it was exactly what I thought.

"You can't say anything," he pleaded, and that snapped me out of my silence.

"You're cheating," I said aloud, still in disbelief. "You're cheating on Jackie. With her best friend."

"It just happened," he tried to explain, but all I could think about was Jackie and how distraught she'd be if she found out.

"How long?" I asked him, as if it would make a difference.

He avoided my stare. "A few months."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled, and he quickly covered my mouth to lower my volume, but I shoved him off me. "How could you do this to Jackie?!"

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he said quickly. "You have to believe me, Y/N."

My casually cool, slightly nerdy brother whom I'd looked up to my whole life was here, caught out for cheating on his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it.

"A few months," I repeated slowly. "You've been cheating on her for a few months."

She was gonna be hurt, but she deserved to know. He was my brother, but I couldn't just let her be in the dark. She deserved to know.

"You can't tell her," he said when he practically read my mind. And when I gave him a disgusted look, he grabbed my hands and continued, "No, Y/N, you can't. You–"

"Jeff, what the fuck?!" I shouted, pulling my hands from his. "I have to!"

"Think about her, about Jackie," he tried to make me see reason. "And Shauna. They're best friends. You tell her and you ruin that! Is that what you want?"

"You already did!" I yelled.

Panicking, he swallowed thickly. "Will you tell her?"

"She deserves to know," I muttered harshly. "You should've just ended it with her first. What the hell were you thinking?"

He didn't answer, and I was too ashamed of him to stand looking at him anymore, instead shoving past and heading back inside. I needed to tell Jackie, but he had a point. Her and Shauna were practically sisters – this would destroy her.

—

I was planning to tell her, I really was. She deserved to know the truth and I certainly wasn't condoning my idiot brother's actions, but wanting to tell her and actually telling her were two very different things.

Every time I thought about it, having the perfect opportunity at school to pull her aside or even when she visited the house during the week after I found out, my words got stuck in my throat and I choked. It wasn't an excuse, and I swore to myself I'd find her after school to tell her in private. But the worst thing happened.

She beat me to it.

It was lunchtime and I was grabbing some things from my locker, the hallway relatively empty as everybody was in the canteen, when I was suddenly pushed back into my locker. Surprised, I turned to see it was Jackie, stood before me with tears streaming down her face, her mascara a mess.

"You knew?!" she got straight to it, eyes searching mine.

Realisation crossed my expression, and before I could even answer, her eyes welled up even more.

"Fuck," she scoffed, hand on her hip as her other pushed her fringe from her eyes. "What a fool I've been. He said you knew and I thought maybe he was trying to upset me, but..."

Fucking Jeff and his big fucking mouth. Why wasn't I surprised he'd thrown me under the bus to make himself look better?

She turned to leave, but I tried to stop her desperately, awfully aware of how I probably looked like Jeff only a week earlier.

"Wait, please, Jackie," I said in a rushed tone, heart breaking when she looked to me with hurt. "I wanted to tell you–"

"Being an asshole must run in the family, huh?" she cut me off, before clenching her jaw. "And here I was thinking I could trust you."

"Jackie, you can, you–"

"You had your brother's back and I shouldn't have expected different," she sneered.

Guilt swallowed me whole as she turned to leave, her sniffling ricocheting off the empty halls and echoing into my ears like bullets. It was somewhat my fault for not going to her sooner, but I wasn't seeing reason as the only thing I could think of was my stupid brother and his big mouth.

I gritted my teeth as I searched the school for him, finding him hanging outside in the parking lot with some friends. As soon as I set my eyes on him, he seemed to notice and the colour drained from his face.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted at him, shoving him into his truck door.

"Woah, Y/N, just chill–"

"Fuck off, Randy!" I silenced his best friend.

"It's okay," Jeff assured his friends, who left us to our good old sibling dispute.

"You told her," I said between a glare. "You finally told her the truth."

"I did," he confirmed.

I shoved him again, making him clench his jaw slightly. "You told her I knew! Why the fuck did you do that?"

Wincing, he said, "I didn't mean to. It slipped out, Y/N. She was upset and talking about who knew and then said your name and I didn't mean to agree but–"

"But you did and now she fucking hates me," I finished for him bitterly. "She thinks I condone your stupid ass actions and that I only cared about protecting my brother."

Defensive, he straightened up. "Well, didn't you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No, you idiot. I just didn't know how to tell her! Fuck."

He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily as I massaged the throbbing point on my forehead. As much as I hated Jeff right now, I knew it was partially my fault. If I'd just gone to her straight away, then she could have found out the truth when she deserved, and in a way less hurtful than she did.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Jeff said with a sigh.

"Yeah, me too," I mumbled, before leaving him be.

It was up to me to fix this now.

—

Jackie really hated me. No matter how hard I tried to get her attention or find a moment to speak with her, she'd completely avoid, glare at me or outright ignore me. I wasn't sure if anyone knew the reality behind her and Jeff's breakup, but her team were certainly suspicious when they saw the unusual distance between her and Shauna.

Only a week had passed, yet it was impossible to speak to her. The one time I believed I might have the opportunity was when I was going to the nurse's office during Music class because I needed to pick up a carpal tunnel wrist brace – turns out all that keyboard and guitar playing was taking its toll. It wasn't anything serious, but I definitely didn't expect to find Jackie in the nurse's office too, sat on the bed and holding some gauze to her forehead.

I had to do a double take when I spotted her, eyes widening immediately as I rushed to her side. "Oh my god, Jackie, what happened?"

She rolled her eyes, traces of tears on her cheeks. "None of your business. Just leave."

I took in the sight of her, noticing she was in her soccer uniform, probably practicing, but it was a little muddier than usual and her face had a little dirt on it. Did she fall?

"Jackie, please–"

"I said leave me alone!" she snapped, before wincing and readjusting so she could look away.

"Is there a problem in here?" the nurse returned to the room, as I was about to try again. She glanced between a teary-eyed Jackie and I, adding, "Can I help you, Miss Sadecki?"

For now, I accepted defeat and reluctantly stepped back from Jackie. "No, I... I mean, yeah. I was told I could get a wrist brace? My wrist has been hurting. Carpal tunnel."

"Over there," the nurse instructed, nodding to the opposite side of the room where some drawers were. "You should find one that fits."

I nodded sadly before going over there to look around. Meanwhile, I heard the nurse helping Jackie with her head, and then they began to talk and I may or may not have been slowing down my actions to listen in.

"Lucky for you, dear, it's just a scratch, but you banged your head pretty well," she was saying to Jackie. "Take these for the headache."

There was some movement as Jackie probably took her painkillers, and I glanced over briefly to see the nurse cleaning her cut and covering it.

"So, what happened to land this?" the nurse made conversation.

"Was playing soccer, just fell," Jackie mumbled uncharacteristically.

"That's unlike you, Miss Taylor," the nurse noticed.

Jackie exhaled deeply. "I've just been distracted lately, I guess."

I frowned to myself, not realising how all of this drama could be affecting Jackie's dynamic with the team, especially Shauna.

"You found what you're looking for yet, Miss Sadecki?" the nurse asked, startling me.

I grabbed the wrist brace and waved it in the air with an awkward smile. "Yes. Got it. Thanks."

She watched me over her glasses as I was forced to leave the room, but not before shooting Jackie an apologetic glance.

—

A week had passed with Jackie still avoiding me like the plague, and that was when I knew I couldn't let it go on any longer. The only way to get her attention was to show her that I genuinely didn't mean to hide the truth from her, to show her that I didn't condone Jeff's actions. And I had the perfect idea.

Once I was certain everyone at home was asleep one night, I snuck outside and used some permanent markers to graffiti the back of Jeff's truck. It was enough of an inconvenience to teach him a lesson and act as a little revenge for Jackie's sake, but not too much that it would cause world war 3. I was pretty chuffed with my idea to be completely honest, smiling at my handiwork.

The next morning, I knew Jeff would head straight into his truck without looking at the back, not far behind me, so I had no concerns in that area. Instead, I drove to school as usual, eyes scanning the parking lot for Jackie. As soon as I spotted her stood by her teammate Lottie's car, the two of them chatting, I headed straight over to her. Lottie saw me first, conversation ceasing, and then Jackie looked over and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not in the mood, Y/N," she said dismissively.

"I know, but just wait–"

"Take a hint," she said rudely, and Lottie dismissed herself, detecting the tension between us.

"You don't have to talk to me," I said quickly, before she decided to leave too, "but just wait and see. Please."

"Y/N–"

I turned around, quickly looking at the entrance of the parking lot to see if Jeff was here yet, and just on time, I saw his familiar truck driving in.

"Just look!" I told Jackie, holding her arm to stop her from leaving.

She furrowed her brows, curious and annoyed, and followed my gaze. The honking that followed his entrance was enough to hold her attention, and I held back a smile as everybody began to see what the commotion was. He drove past to find a parking spot quickly, and I caught sight of his red face in the driver's seat. Then the back of his truck was in full view, earning laughter from every student present, and I pursed my lips to hold my own in.

'HONK IF I HAVE A TINY WIENER' was written in thick black ink on the back of his truck, with a somewhat questionable doodle beside it. Some of my best work, I won't lie.

"You did that?" Jackie asked, and I looked at her with an apologetic smile.

"I did. I'm sorry, Jackie. I don't like what he did at all. I just want to talk to you."

Her expression softened, finally free of the hurt she'd harboured for me this past week, and I anticipated her response before Jeff suddenly appeared, worked up and embarrassed.

"Are you o–"

"Did you do this?!" he cut me off hysterically, looking to Jackie.

People were still honking their horns and it was very difficult for me to not burst into laughter.

"I didn't–" Jackie started, surprised, but I interrupted.

"Seriously, Jeff?" I said casually. "How would she have done that? Walk all the way across town to our house and do it in the night?"

He pressed his lips together, flustered, knowing I was right. And saying nothing more, he stormed off, steam practically coming from his ears. Only when he was out of hearing distance did Jackie finally let out a laugh.

"You didn't need to do that," she told me, though her expression said otherwise.

"I did," I said knowingly, holding her gaze.

She sighed, smile fading a little.

"I was going to tell you the truth, I swear," I said, using this as my opportunity to speak, but voice speeding up the more nervous I got. "I only knew for a week. I was planning to tell you as soon as I found out, but then he begged me not to and I was confused and I didn't want to hurt you and you found out and it was out of my control."

Frowning at the memory, she looked down at her shoes, lost in thought. The longer she stayed quiet, the worse I felt.

"Please, Jackie," I pleaded, "I'm so sorry."

"I believe you," she murmured, though still not meeting my gaze.

I wasn't optimistic – what if she wanted to leave it at that and never talk to me again? What if she couldn't hang around with me anymore because I reminded her of Jeff? What if–

She hugged me, silencing my doubts in an instant, and I sighed with relief as I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tight.

"I'm here for you," I promised her. "I hope you know that."

She nodded in my shoulder, not quite letting go just yet. "I know. Thank you."

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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