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"Every Puzzle has an answer!"
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BRIE LARSON at the Max Mara Resort 2025 Collection runway show in Venice on June 11, 2024
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Move Along
AN: literally just wrote this bc i refuse to journal!! I'm also off a melatonin gummy so all mistakes are mine
Warnings: it's angsty, a little suggestive, probably cursing
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Wanda rides out her high while you watch from below. She falls over with a dreamy sigh, her arm falling across your chest and her fingers curl against your neck. You pull her in closer with a kiss atop her head. You let her mindlessly play with the hairs on the nape of your neck for a few moments until you catch the vacant look on her face.
"S'wrong?" you mumble, not really expecting anything to come of it. Wanda doesn't say anything for a few beats, and that makes you turn towards her, lifting her chin with the softest grip, her eyes choosing to look at the lamp on your nightstand.
"Wanda?"
"Vis asked me to come see him in Hamburg," she's still not looking at you.
"Oh? Like a weekend trip?"
"More than a weekend trip," she shrugs, "for the summer, said I'm too far away for his liking."
"You guys talk like every night, don't you?" you tilt your head, cocking a brow.
"That's not the point," she lightly flicks your ear. You both have had this flirtationship/friends with benefits thing long before Vision ever came into the picture. You weren't used to competing for someone when he came around, you still aren't. Wanda used to think it was cute how you always acted like you were at the top of her roster--because you were--at least until Vision proved to be a top contender. You never hit the gas, but you never hit the brakes either. You've just been cruising like always, and Wanda absolutely factored that in when she was making her decision about Vision.
"Y/n," Wanda eyes finally land on yours, her hand moves down to cup your cheek, her thumb grazing against your skin.
"It's getting serious, between me and him."
"Okay," you knew this is what she was getting at the whole time, she's always been too nice to just come out and say things like this.
"Okay?"
"What am I supposed to do about it?" You gently grasp her hand and prop yourself up on your elbow, "he's sweeping you off your feet from miles and miles away, and I'm just, here I guess."
"There's nothing else you want to say to me?" Wanda sits up too, she wraps the sheets around herself while you sit there at the crossroads you hoped to never reach.
It was always going to end this way.
Maybe, deep down, you hoped that by the time this day would come that you would have figured out the right way to go about things.
But you haven't and that's on you, so you have to take this on the chin and keep it moving like you used to do.
"Y/n?"
"When do you leave?" You turn to face Wanda in time to watch her shoulders droop.
"Thursday," her reply is curt. You wince, it's Tuesday.
"So this is it then?"
"You're not even going to try to keep in touch?" Wanda frowns while you chew on your lip.
"And talk about what, Wanda? How amazing it is to live with the guy that has way too much money to shower you with gifts for so many lifetimes?"
"It's not about the money y/n-"
"It's the effort, I get it. But I've been here, Wanda--more than Vis has, even."
Wanda opens her mouth like she's going to say something, but she just sighs instead. You're right, you've been here, but not in the way she needed, wanted you, and you both know that. You never bothered to evolve beyond a fuck and a flirt, and Wanda realized she had to give up on waiting for you at some point.
She just didn't expect for it to happen so soon.
Wanda reaches for your hand, taking it in hers when you don't pull away.
"I'll always remember this, us," she lifts your hand to her lips and releases it with a kiss. Your jaw twitches with an emotion you thought was long-lost. Wanda moves to get up from the bed, but you still her with a hand on her own.
"Stay? Just for tonight?" You curse yourself with how much that resembles begging, and you barely have the courage to look Wanda in the eyes while you wait for her answer. After tonight, nothing will be the same, so the least you can do is just savor what's left of it now.
Wanda's eyes soften, you'll always be special to her. She wordlessly nods and climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close to her chest. Wanda pretends that she can't feel your tears on her skin. You finally relax and fall asleep after a few minutes of her whispering sweet nothings into your ear while drawing patterns across your shoulders and back.
As much as Wanda wishes things were different between you, she knows that life will leave her behind if she keeps waiting around for something more to happen.
----------------
You wake up, the other side of the bed is the coldest it's ever been.
#none of this makes senseeee but i wrote it anywayyyy#works#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x you
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that urge to start a new WIP while you have so many others is very real rn
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If you have Spotify reblog this and tag what your number one song on your “on repeat” playlist is.
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please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!
do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!
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THE SHADOW II
The Shadow 2
Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader
Count: 3691
…
“The nerve!” Jessica snaps when she sees you.
“Hey there, hot stuff.” You smile from her couch against the wall. The action makes you flinch though, and your entire body goes rigid when a new wave of pain washes through you.
“What the hell happened to you?” She asks, picking up on your state and hurrying around her apartment. You keep your eyes closed as you press your hands against your bleeding waist.
“I hate bullet wounds.” You tell her, as you swallow with difficulty. “Through and through though. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
“My couch better not be stained!” She warns you, and you open your eyes to see her carrying a small first aid kit.
You chuckle dryly, and immediately groan in pain right after. You keep your eyes closed and you move your hands away when she nudges you, not so gently.
You grit your teeth as she cleans up the wound. Your entire body is shaking, you can’t ignore the pain that is seeping through, but you endure it quietly.
“There are three holes here.” Jessica tells you with a tone and you smile, your teeth chattering as you look at her.
“Through and through, though.” You tell her with difficulty, and she huffs a smile. She takes off her jacket, and then goes back to cleaning your wounds.
“I haven’t seen you in fourteen months, and you just show up all bloody on my couch.” She dabs at your wounds a little harshly and you hiss in pain, but refuse to open your eyes.
“I’ve missed you too, babes.” You speak but she dabs harder, and you end up pushing her hands away. “I had - nowhere - else to go.” You admit, even though admitting it hurts just as much as the bullet wounds do.
Maybe that’s an exaggeration.
“The Avengers are still looking for you.” She tells you pointedly and you grip her wrist, and glare at her. No.
You’re breathing with difficulty, this pain is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “They keep track of me just in case you show up here. They think I don’t know. The little shits.”
“Wait. What?” You panic, and when she shakes her hand free from your grip easily, you begin to worry. “I don’t think those were average bullets, Jess.”
Coming here was a mistake, but you couldn’t go back to your hideout because they were following you. Maybe Jessica is in danger now too, you don’t know.
“No shit.” She sarcastically says as she continues to wipe away dried blood from your skin. “I thought you could regenerate fast.”
“I can.” You speak as your vision begins to blur. “I always have. Some - some - something’s wrong.”
“Don’t you fucking pass out on me, you hear me?” She tells you harshly and even though you try to stay awake, you pass out.
…
You wake up with your hands and ankles restrained to the bed where you’re laying. You test them but you’re still feeling a bit groggy, although you’re no longer in pain.
“Don’t even try it.” You grin at hearing that voice, but whatever joy you might have felt, quickly vanishes when you see the look on Natasha’s face.
“Hey, you wouldn’t mind letting me out of these things, would ya?” You try to move your hands, but the restraints don’t give an inch.
Natasha is standing by the lone large window, wearing her tactical suit, and the look on her face is almost enough to make you start begging for forgiveness.
Her hair is longer now and she’s braided it to a side, and you’ve missed her so much that the mere sight of her makes you regret a lot of things.
“We tried to find you.” She tells you accusatorily, and you look away from her.
You left for a reason, and of course you knew they were looking for you but you needed to stay away. They’re better off without you in their lives… all of them are.
“You people just don’t give up, do you?” You ask her, and she chuckles humorlessly before walking closer to your bed.
“Spare me the bullshit.” She tells you dryly. You could never hide anything from her before, you don’t know how you believed that you could hide this from her.
“I was made to be alone.” You tell her and her features soften somehow, her eyes take you in with a sadness that you feel so clearly in your bones but there is something more in her eyes too. “I was made to destroy.”
“That’s not - ” She growls, making you flinch with her outburst, but she restrains herself. There’s real anger in her face now, undeniable rage that you should fear, yet it only manages to break your heart.
“I’ve missed you.” You admit out loud and she sighs, hands on her waist as she gathers her thoughts. Your self proclaimed big sister is a force to be reckoned with, and you’ve missed her like crazy.
“You’re an idiot.” She pointedly tells you with a nod of her head. You look away again, she’s hurt and she seems troubled, but you weren’t ready to come back here. “Where did they find you?”
Her question makes you take a pause, that serves to silently curse yourself.
“What?” You ask her.
“Hydra, where did they find you?” When all you can do is stare at her in shock, she shakes her head before sitting on the edge of your bed. “Despite your incredible skill set, you’re not exactly subtle.”
“You knew they were after me?” You ask her, now understanding their actions a bit better.
For the last six months you’ve had to dodge the Avengers just as much as you dodged Hydra, and now you know why.
“They came for Barnes. Almost took him, we took a hit that day. Tony broke his arms and Clint officially retired the morning after." Her voice is entirely monotone, but it still leaves you breathless. You can only see her profile from this angle, but that’s enough.
“Are they - Tasha, are they okay now?”
“Barnes is in Wakanda.” She tells you without looking back at you. “Tony is, well, he’s Tony. Clint lost his footing off the roof - if Wanda hadn’t - ” she chokes up, and you feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face.
The team, your team, your friends… These are the people that once saved you, and you left them to fight their battles alone. Worse than that, you left them to fight your battles on their own.
“If Wanda hadn't seen him falling, he’d be dead.” She clears her throat with finality, and she turns to look at you. “We tried to find you to warn you, or to bring you in.”
“I’m sorry.” You apologize, but you know it won’t be enough. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Hmm.” She frowns but she schools her expression immediately after, and you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You were poisoned. Bruce made an antidote. Your body healed as soon as it took effect. You’re fine to go.”
She tells you all this while untying you. You watch her go about setting you free, but when she’s done all you can do is blink.
“If you ever need medical assistance again, you know where to find us.” She walks out of the room without another word before you have the chance to respond.
…
Guilt embraces you like it never has before. This is exactly why they should just let you leave, forget about you. This is exactly what you do, destroy, it's what you were built for.
You curse the moment they came to love you. The moment that you came to love them. Their lives would be a lot easier if they could just stop caring… or if you had never crossed their paths.
You leave the bed, and head straight towards the small ensuite. After a quick shower you stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom to inspect your wounds. There are barely any scars now, whatever poison they shot you with was nothing more than a warning.
They were just letting you know that they’re right on your tail, and you don’t know how to feel about it.
You don’t want to go back to Hydra. You promised yourself that you’d die first before that ever happens. You can’t go back to being their slave. You won’t.
You take your pick from the small closet, and end up wearing custom made avengers sweats and shirt. Even the underwear has their logo on it. You’d smile if you weren’t absolutely terrified of facing each and every single one of them again.
“It’s true then.” Tony enters the room you’re in, hands behind his back and looking warily at you. “The prodigal daughter returns.”
“More like dragged in while I was unconscious, but yeah.” You quickly reply, and he grins at you with a fondness that’s quickly replaced by something else.
“Nobody is expecting you to stay. I just wanted you to know that.” The way he says it, as if he’s trying to take a weight off your shoulders, makes you want to drive your head through the nearest wall.
“Shouldn’t you be arresting me?” You ask him as you dig for shoes in the closet, that you thankfully find. You’ll have to ask about your own shoes later.
“Why did you do it?” He asks you, and you refuse to look at him while you put on some socks and sneakers. “Why did you just disappear like that? I thought - we all thought that you were part of the team.”
He sure as hell gave you a hard time about it in the past. You relationship with Stark has always been complicated, and you both know you do better by walking around the edges. Still.
“Don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of me, Stark. ‘Cause I remember you hating the idea of having a former Hydra agent on your precious little team.”
The atmosphere takes a sharp turn after your reply, whatever neutral ground was reached in those first few minutes of interaction gives in beneath your feet and when you notice it, it’s already too late.
“You proved me right.” He spits at you angrily, and you grit your teeth in anger as you stand to face him properly. “Did you ever take a moment to think about Rogers or Romanoff while you were running away? About Danvers, and what your little stunt did to her?”
He gets in your face as he spits all that at you, and while you were prepared to take whatever he threw at you, the mention of Carol’s name makes you snap.
You push him off without holding back, and his back crashes against the nearest wall with so much force that fear washes over him, in the second it takes you to crowd over to him.
“Do not fucking pretend to know me, Stark.” You warn him but he still tries to push you back, only for you to grab a hold of his shirt and push him against the wall again, hard.
“Hey, hey, hey! Back off.” Rhodey enters the room and although he doesn’t touch you, he still tries to put himself in between you and Tony. “Back off.” He tells you again, softer than before, his eyes pleading with you.
You glare daggers at Tony, but guilt quickly takes over you again when he touches the back of his head and winces slightly.
“I know you.” He nods, snarling, he’s glaring right back. “You’re nothing more than a scared child. You’re that afraid of being loved? Of having a home? What the hell did they do to you?”
His questions make your blood boil. He’s advancing towards you again, angrier and completely ignoring Rhodey’s attempts to keep him back.
“Tough luck, princess.” He’s a couple of inches away from you, his finger digging into your shoulder as you refuse to look into his eyes, focused on the wrinkled collar of his dress shirt to avoid him from seeing what he already knows reflected in your eyes.
“We gave you a safe haven despite our feelings, despite the impressive resume that you came along with. We made you part of our family, and trusted you.”
You fist your hands on your sides and will yourself to endure whatever he wants to throw at you, even while your heart is breaking the longer he lists your flaws. It’s nothing you don’t already know, you tell yourself.
You deserve his anger, you wanted their anger when you last walked away. You never planned to be here again.
“We never pretended to keep you chained inside these four walls. Didn’t we deserve at least a phone call?”
You don’t look up, even when he tries to catch your eyes when you refuse to look up.
You never should have gone to Jessica’s.
“You could have saved us a lot of problems, but you were never that interested in the team, were you? You never cared for the work we do or the sacrifices we make every day to be able to protect earth.”
“I left because of the team.” You reply to that, and he laughs mockingly. His smile resembles a snarl more than anything, but you don’t take the bait this time.
“You were never a hero, and we should have known better.” He spits with venom, and you push him away again when he gets too close. This time Rhodey doesn’t try to intervene, not even when Tony advances again and you grip his shirt to keep him at arm's length.
“I left because of the team, Stark. I left so that Carol could stay. I left so that Steve and Natasha could move on.”
“Oh, we should be grateful then.” Tony struggles to speak against the hold you have on his shirt and the second you realize, you let him go.
“Don’t you get it?” You ask him as he tries to catch his breath. “All I ever do is hurt people. Everyone around me always ends up paying the price of knowing me.”
...
Steve levels you with a look that you've familiarized yourself with very well in the past. Disappointment.
For a moment you’re tempted to shower him with explanations, but the only thing you can do is look away from him.
“Nice sweats.” Wanda tells you when you walk inside the meeting room, and she might be the only one who’s smiling genuinely at you.
“That face.” You smile and when you realize you’re smiling, you can’t stop doing it. You wrap her in a hug and aren’t completely surprised when that feels like coming home. You’ve missed her dearly.
“You’re hard to find.” She tells you and you nod, if a bit sadly. “You’re here now, come on.” She pulls you further inside, and sits next to you, never letting go of your hand.
The moment you look up though you see Carol walk inside, and her eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments before she looks away. You try to control your emotions but you’re suddenly back on that roof, walking away from her.
The things you told her… God. The lies you said to push her away.
“Long time, no see.” She speaks, and with a start you realize that she’s talking to you.
“Yeah.” You say as you take her in. She looks - she looks great.
It feels like an out of body experience, to be here sitting across from her. You never expected to ever talk to her again, not after the things you told her.
“How've you been?” She asks, and you swallow with difficulty. Is that who you two are now? People that make small talk, and pretend that one of you didn’t say horrible things to push the other one away?
“You look great.” You tell her, avoiding answering her question, and she looks down at her feet with a frown on her face. You’ve been on the run, and she knows it. You’ve been barely surviving, and there’s nothing great about that.
The meeting concerns you directly. Steve is laying out a plan that has been meticulously thought out for months, and you should be paying attention, you should be focusing.
But Carol’s hair is longer than you remember, and it frames her face in a way that makes her look soft, approachable. She’s wearing an oversized yellow sweater, her hands fisting the ends of the sleeves as she listens to the captain, and your heart aches at the sight of her.
You remember what it was like to kiss her, and the way it made you feel. You remember what it was like to touch her, and the hunger that always overtook you when she was at your reach. You remember what it was like to laugh with her, and how easy it was to spend time with her.
You remember the hurt in her face when she thought you didn’t love her, and how it devastated you to leave. You remember the tears gathering in her eyes when you told her she was nothing more than a fuckbuddy, on the rooftop of a building in Berlin fourteen months ago.
You remember how it hurt to walk away, and how badly you wanted to return - for her.
You remember loving her in secret, and you remember her loving you the best way she could.
“You in?” She suddenly turns to you, and you watch her struggling to keep eye contact with you.
You blink yourself back to the present, and focus on what she’s asking. You’ll never be able to erase the past and you both know it. But out of all the things you’ve done, you regret losing her the most.
You’re a weapon. You were made to be a weapon. You were trained to be a monster. You were wired to be heartless. You are destruction, and not even she could change that.
“All the way.” You still answer, because even if you can’t change the past you need her to know that she could never be nothing… not to you.
…
You’re dismissed, and Vision is asked to shadow you while you settle. You’re a flight risk, or at least they think you are.
You’re not going anywhere, not until Hydra is buried once again, and the mark on your back is erased for good.
It’s almost midnight by the time you finally enter your room, or what it used to be your room. Everything looks the same, of course, your old clothes are in the closet and the few photographs of the team you liked best are still tucked neatly on the edge of the mirror frame atop the vanity.
You haven’t missed this room until this very moment, and you want to come back with renewed intensity. You had a family, you had a place where you were beginning to think that you might belong.
“Is everything alright?” Vision asks, and with a start you remember that he’s still following you.
“Sure.” You nod at his direction, and he nods back.
“I know this must be - uncomfortable.” He says, and you send him an agreeing look. “Captain’s orders.” He shrugs, apologetic and perhaps even a little embarrassed to be here with you.
“You’ll watch me sleep?” You ask him teasingly, and he smiles.
“I’ll turn around.” He jokes back, and you’re laughing when a knock on your door has you both looking over.
Vision answers, and then he turns to smile softly at you. Carol is standing awkwardly on the other side of the door, and you begin to panic.
“I think I’ll - I’ll wait outside.” Vision says before he retreats, sensing something.
“Hey.” You wave, and Carol breathes in deeply as she looks at you.
You want, and you want.
“Can we talk?” She asks, and you’re nodding when she walks inside your room with hesitation in her every step.
You remember her crossing the same door frame countless times in the past, but never looking as uncomfortable as she does now.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” She starts as you close the door. The tension that has been building up in the pit of your stomach is quick to unleash, and you turn to her.
God! You can’t believe she’s here and you can’t believe - you can’t understand why you do the things that you do.
“I’m sorry.” You tell her, and she pulls at the sleeves of her sweater.
For a phrase you have never been fond of saying, it sure keeps slipping past your tongue rather easily today.
“I need to tell you something.” She says again and you take two steps closer to her. God, you love her. You do but you can’t - you don’t even know who you really are. You’re no good for her. You don’t know how to love right.
“I love you. I do.” You tell her in a rush, and her face morphs into an expression of pain. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” She asks, and you look down at your feet. You feel so awkward, so ashamed and so incredibly vulnerable.
It’s been fourteen months, you have no right to be telling her this now.
“I’m not… good. I’m not good, Carol.”
She stares at you, as if analyzing you, and you refuse to look away. You can’t know what goes through her mind the longer she looks at you, you only hope that she believes you.
“What do you mean?” She asks softly, and you don’t know how to answer that. “I didn’t come here looking for an explanation for what happened between us. That’s in the past.”
She frowns when you continue to be quiet, and it’s between watching her and waiting for her to continue that you catch a glimpse of the necklace she’s wearing, and the pendants resting against her collarbone.
You try not to stare, but the hour glass and the R are all you can suddenly see.
Realization washes over you slowly, and so incredibly heavily that you’re almost tempted to sit on the floor.
“You are not what Hydra made you to be.” She tells you, but you have a hard time processing her words. “You are good, and you are enough.”
You’ve surely had stab wounds hurt less than this.
She’s moved on, of course she has. Isn’t that what you wanted for her? You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to be with someone worth loving.
“I have something important to tell you.” She says again, and you blink yourself back to this moment. You know exactly what she’s gonna say, and you don’t know what to do.
“Natasha and I - ” she trails off to clear her throat, and you’re not even sure if you have the right to react. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months now.”
Hearing her say it is by far the hardest thing that you’ve ever endured. It makes you feel sick, the thought of her with someone else, even though you have no right.
She’s moved on with the person you admire the most. She’s dating the one person that you can actually be thankful for.
“That’s - ” you speak with a dry throat, and you’re forced to swallow down with difficulty. “That’s great.”
“I looked for you and I found you, remember?” She goes on, and you shake your head. She says it as if justifying her reasons, which she doesn’t need to do.
“You don’t have to explain anything - ”
“You told me you love me two minutes ago.” She cuts you off. “You made it very clear that you never felt the same way about me before.”
“I did say those things.” You admit, just as tears gather in her eyes. You hurt her, and you know it.
You have no right to act this way.
This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted her away, you wanted her safe from you… and now she is.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That you love me, or that I was nothing more than a good fuck?”
The anger in her voice is subtle, but it’s there and it makes you want to recoil, but you meet her stare anyway.
“Both.” You tell her, and she cleans her tears away in a rush.
“I don’t even know why I came here.” She says, and you look away. The more you see her, the more you realize that you just want to reach out, and touch her.
You want her for yourself, but you know that you’re no good, and you never will be. You still need her away because you’re not certain of who - or what you are.
Some things never change, you conclude. You’re still destruction, and no matter where you go or what you do, destruction is all you’re good at. It's all you always bring, even to yourself.
…
Tagging: @graniairish @thiskingdomwillendure @unicorniusfallapatorius
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HAVANA ROSE LIU
— ELLE’s Hollywood Rising Class of 2024
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I’m sorry, but this shot makes me laugh so hard. Lottie is just a giant compared to everyone else and it amuses me endlessly.
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routine | wanda maximoff
synopsis: a routine to follow; to secretly navigate the delicate balance of your double lives, you and wanda risk it all for just a clandestine affair teetering on the edge of discovery.
wanda maximoff x reader
word count: 2.1k words
warnings: infidelity, angst
a/n: it's only time, and fair, to write for wanda too :)
it all falls into routine pretty quickly; the late-night creaks of her front door, your feet tapping against the solid hardwood of her living room, her arms wrapping themselves around your body, lips finding your own.
to build a unique relationship that defied categorisation, and to then allow the relationship to morph until it just about justified itself – you weren’t sure who started it first. perhaps it could have been wanda’s lingering glances, could have been your own sharp tongue. either way, you were seeing a colleague that shouldn’t have been your solace, and she hadn’t stopped it either.
it had been a long day at the office. or two days, you weren’t too sure. with a new product launch in the next week, everyone had been working overtime, you didn’t remember the last time you had seen your own wife, and you certainly didn’t remember her reminder to pick up the dry cleaning if you were on your way home. maybe she had even said it last week instead of this one.
but you did remember the familiar steps to wanda’s house, the ding of her doorbell, the smell of vanilla and wood behind the door. it was already all beckoning to you, the comfort of a place that wasn’t even your own.
as usual, she opened the door, already dressed in her satin nightgown, hair half-dry from her shower. and you collapsed right into her. wanda stumbled holding you up for a moment, but hearing your satisfied sighs and whimpers from her fingers threading themselves into your hair, followed with your arms melding your two bodies together, she too, couldn’t control the relief she exhaled.
“you’re late.”
“i know, tom held me back today.”
wanda clicked her tongue. “i saw you asleep in your office last night. wanted to bring you home, but your assistant was working late too.”
she felt you nuzzle your face into her neck, breathing in the lavender and honey from her bath. “mmh. i did.”
“don’t overwork yourself.” her words, and replies, had always been curt. straight to the point, but never malicious. she cared about you, but she couldn’t show so much that she would give you the wrong idea. she knew what this was, after all. a relationship of convenience; a companionship made from two lonely, desperate people.
she brings you to bed after allowing you to use her shower, your eyes drooping as you lay yourself over her, while she switches on the sitcoms on her television. fingers glide over the splay of your back, absentmindedly tracing the taut muscles there while you relish in her touch. the weight on her own body wasn’t uncomfortable, but more of a reassurance, a reminder, that she was grounded, and so were you, in the present moment. wanda pulls you in even further when the show cuts to a commercial.
there was a notification from your phone, in the bedside table next to wanda. glancing over at it, she feels a certain sting in her chest. she’s not sure why. it wasn’t like it was anything new; she had always known about it, she had full access to your phone anytime she wanted to check on it.
still, the i love you that you had gotten from someone other than her, while not unfamiliar, irked her. she didn’t know what was up with herself, to only be irritated by something she knew from the start was her reality only now. must be the hormones, it was that time of the month after all. she had already rejected your advances to join you in her shower, and you understood. thankfully.
you missed the quick swipe of her fingers across your phone, clicking on the message and deleting it. it wasn’t something she wanted you to see tonight. she inspected a few earlier messages, saw that they were causing even more pain to simmer in her chest, and hurriedly shoves it back to where it came from.
you whined for her fingers to return to where they were, and thankfully, she came back. you mumbled sleepily, “how was your day?”
“we work in the same office, don’t we?” wanda replied, amused.
“well, different departments.”
“fine,” she quickly said, but at your woeful gaze, she softened, “it was fine. kate invited me for yoga after work. then i got home, tried out a new recipe from the cookbook he got me, and waited for you.”
your fingers interlaced with hers, looking up at her like she put the stars in the sky. wanda found it difficult to swallow the lump in her throat. “you made dinner?”
she nodded. “it’s in the microwave, i can heat it up for you if you want.”
“no, no, it’s okay,” you reassured her, pushing her back down when she tried getting up, “i’m too tired to eat it now. and besides, it’s for him. i shouldn’t…be eating his food.”
“you know–”
“–i know. but i have my boundaries.”
wanda pinches the skin at the nape of your neck for cutting her off. you wince, and she leans down to kiss it, tongue lapping at it quickly after as a way of saying sorry. “it’s that paprikash you like. the one you keep going on and on about. i made it for you.”
a smile crept to your cheeks. “the one jane from legal made for me once.”
the pinch came again, and wanda felt almost guilty at the angry red welt it formed in the wake of her anger. “right. you still fucking her, or…?”
wanda didn’t find the chuckle from your lips even the slightest bit funny. you propped yourself on your elbows, kissing wanda’s neck slowly. “wands…it’s not like that. come on.”
“she wants you. i just know it. everybody knows it.”
“she did invite me out for drinks today,” you quipped, to which wanda sighed irritatedly, but you were quick to recover with, “but i said no. was too tired.”
“because you’re coming home to me.”
“because i’m coming home to you,” you affirmed. it was only then that wanda let go of the frown on her face, allowing you to come close enough to kiss her, chest rising and falling beneath yours. you held her face as you let her take control, and she brought you down even further to her, as if never letting you go. it was comfortable, and safe, and leaving you lightheaded and giddy, when it really shouldn’t be.
you really shouldn’t be doing this. but wanda was enjoying this so much, and it would be futile to deny that you weren’t. her skin so soft, her hair silky smooth, there was something just so irresistible about the woman underneath you. she’s got you right in the palm of her hand.
your phone rang this time, and while wanda instinctively shot out her hand to silence it, you were quicker, and took it from her right as her fingers clasped around the device. she groaned in annoyance when you sat up and checked who had been calling you.
“it’s my sister,” you announced, to alleviate some of the jealousy and tension evident in her face.
wanda listened as you spoke, forcing you to put her on loudspeaker, while her hands ran up and down your thighs, impatient for you to end the call and carry on with what you had been doing to her. she sighed irritatedly each time her name was said, each time your lips even formed the shape of pronouncing it.
“yeah, of course, i know,” you assured your nagging sister, “flight’s at six-thirty. we can’t be late. you’ve booked us business class seats. i got it. natasha and i will be there, sis. we wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”
you felt wanda’s hands lift up your t-shirt, to which you tried pulling her away, but she swatted your hands off first. you reluctantly obliged, as she found your breasts, and began her ministrations on them as you stayed on the phone. she heard her name again, and sat up, lips latching on to your skin, and biting hard. you sucked in a harsh breath, feeling the skin tear before wanda was licking it up again, marking you and then apologising for it.
“i know,” you continued, wanda kissing up your neck now, purposely as loud as she could. she wanted you to get caught, “look, it’s supposed to be nerve-wrecking. it’s your wedding, for heaven’s sake. i remember when i was getting married to natasha, i couldn’t sleep for weeks! i was just so excited, and–fuck!”
“what was that?” came the voice from the other end. wanda smiled. success.
“n-nothing,” you regained your composure, glaring daggers at her this time, “look, i have to go, but we’ll be there. first thing tomorrow. no, natasha’s not with me right now, i’m sleeping in my office because i have to tie up the loose ends at work before we spend the next two weeks with you for your wedding. i’ll see you soon, alright?’
two weeks. two weeks is far too long. wanda doesn’t want to wait two weeks to see you again. it was her turn to have her glare turn murderous when you ended the call, snatching your phone away from you and shoving it under the drawer. you sighed, indulging her. “six-thirty?”
“i have to go by four, alright? i have to pick up natasha,” a bite to your shoulder, “and get a ride to the airport,” another angry teeth mark.
it was nearly midnight already. wanda couldn’t believe you failed to tell her you barely had four hours together. “fuck you.”
“wands…”
“seriously, fuck you,” she emphasised, tears already beginning to form at the ends of her eyes. the bitter, choking feeling in her throat too raw to voice out her anger and jealousy.
“come on, don’t be like this,” you begged, holding her thrashing hands as she tried to buck you off the bed. she refused to let you see her cry angry tears, but you had done so anyway. you held her hands against your chest, kissing them all over until she gave up fighting altogether, until she could only shut her eyes, and face away from you in shame. “you’re always like this.”
“is–it–so–wrong–” she was hiccuping, voice broken, “–to want you around? to have you with me?”
she knows it is. you know it is as well. but neither of you tell the truth around it. you both were too attached to each other to face the reality. “i’ll be back soon, alright? just two weeks. then you’ll have me, for as long as you want. as long as he’s not around.”
wanda let out a cry, heartbreaking and raw; and you bite your own lip in guilt. you hated to see her like this. she never had a problem letting her guard down with you, and you didn’t want her to think it would be a mistake doing so. she cried then, frustrated and angry, “i want to break up! i hate you, i never want to see you again!”
“come on wands…”
“i hate y–” your lips were on hers then, soothing her, placating her, like one would an insolent child. you had released her hands, and they had clawed at your arms, scratching down red, angry lines down your skin. she was doing to you what she couldn’t say out loud. how betrayed she felt, how wrong it was that you were taking her to your sister’s wedding, and not wanda. never wanda.
“just two weeks. i promise. i’ll text you everyday.”
“i want to break up.”
sighing, you challenged her. “...do you really?”
but then wanda’s lips trembled, her eyes fully glossy now. there were tears streaming down her face, and her nose was turning red. her nails dug into your skin, feeling almost like claws. and after a minute, she shook her head, slowly, sadly.
you knew it. she could never end it; and neither could you. you always come back. or she does. neither of you want to acknowledge the dirty situation you were in, the games you were playing with each other, and your spouses. how attached wanda was to you, how soft you were for her. it had gained traction, spiralled, and crashed and burned long ago. there was no going back now.
she would threaten ending things with you, you asking her if she really would, and her pulling back just seconds later. the two of you would make up after, never acknowledging how much you actually meant to each other, never saying a word about the other’s feelings. then you would go back home to your wife, and she would wait for her husband to return, and pretend like you were never anything more than colleagues. not even friends, barely acquaintances.
“she’s just someone from work,” you both would say to your spouses, a lie cooked up and chewed and spat out like a routine. and it works, everytime.
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