She had a smile on her face that told the world she was in love with you, that nothing could bring her down as long as she was with you.
But things changed, people changed.
it was no longer your job to carry the weight of Abby's sins on your shoulders.
Now it was Owen's job, who would be assisted by the white slippers that Abby had found in her late mother's closet.
And all you could do was watch.
Watch as Abby became the wife of some man she had promised to never marry in a field full of daisys.
Watch as Abby smiled through the ceremony and kissed Owen like you had never existed in her life—like you hadn't promised your heart to her.
Watch through the eyes of somebody else as she found yours through a sea of people and her smile warped into one of guilt.
—You smiled and nodded every time someone asked you, "aren't they perfect?"
But you could barely stand to look at them, or else, the makeup on your face would end up in ruins—just like your relationship with Abby had.
"Y/n-"No. No, no, no, not Abby's father.."- Look at you! The last time I saw you, Abby and you were graduating college!" Jerry smiled and pulled you into a tight hug, as if he was trying to squeeze all the sadness out of you with it.
"How are you doing?" He asked, patting your back.
You put on your best fake smile, finding the courage to make it seem believable. "Okay, I guess. What about you?"
Jerry replied. "I'm glad to hear you're doing okay, I'm fine, as well-Physically, of course. On the outside, I'm an emotional wreck-"
Me too, Jerry.
"—I can't believe my little girl is married."
And there was your reminder, that Abby Anderson was no longer yours to keep.
No longer allowed to be the one star that shined too bright in your eyes as you stared up at the sky.
You frowned, looking back at the sweetheart table that obnoxiously featured Owen handfeeding Abby cake from his plate.
Your shoulders shrugged without your consent. "Yeah, I...I never pictured her getting married, Y'know?"
"I'm surprised that Abby chose Nora as her best woman—Abby and you were so close...she talked about you all the time, over the phone, and when she came home to visit too."
Your eyebrows furrowed, your 11's becoming noticeable as you stared at Jerry.
"She did?"
He watched Abby take the dance floor with Owen as Sleeping At Last's Turning Page played; The bride & Groom's first dance.
"Abby talked about you for hours over the phone, it was like you had hung the moon for her—It's funny, The way Owen looks at her, was the way Abby looked, when talking about you, y/n."
The back of your throat burned—You couldn't process the remainder of Jerry's words as the sight of Owen and Abby dancing blurred beyond the point of recognition.
Abby had talked about you? To Jerry?
Even after everything?
Your hands felt cold as you touched your face, wiping away the tears that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Every moment from that last summer replayed in your head—it weakened your knees and the wall behind you was barely enough to keep you from falling.
You swallowed the hurt that was rising from your chest, again and again, like your mind was supposed to magically get rid of it.
But like everything else in your life, it won and forced you to excuse yourself to the bathroom.
You barely made it, collapsing in the private bathroom as the hurt finally came out of your mouth, barely reaching the toilet in milliseconds.
The sobs left your throat in awkward pauses between the bile, the sage green dress you wore was only a dark reminder of the hell you were stuck in.
The matching initial hand towels were worse.
You vomited thrice.
One for the regret of that last summer.
one for the special occasion.
And one from the mere fantasy you had conjured up in your head, that included you replacing Owen on the dance floor for Abby's first dance.
Your heels had been kicked off long ago, spread out across the white tile like a mockery of your mental state, a quid pro quo that added to the oh so romantic thoughts in your head.
"y/n...are you in there?" You shivered over the toilet, goosebumps appearing on your forearms.
"It's a—it's me."
b's note: #baby's first abby fic!! with # slight (big) comphet! abby... anyways I'm surprised at how good this turned out, especially since I wrote this on a WHIM while listening to music at 1 am😭so that's why it's more in reader's perspective than anything else, and just mentionsbof abby's behavior! please do tell me what you think about this, even if i say it's a whim, cause I love hearing feedback! I am EXTREMELY sick tho so it will take me a hot minute to read thru all asks😭
synopsis - It's finally the end of your senior year, and your best friend is hosting the end-of-the-year party. The party in which you hope to God Ellie finally attends. You spend the night trying your best to stay away from your boyfriend, and you end up bumping into Ellie, almost like a reward for your avoidance. Possibly against your better judgement, you get her to take you home and wake up the following morning with her in your bed, leading to an entanglement that lasts just over a month.
cw - comphet, reader’s bf calls her a slur, homophobia, kissing, descriptions of (lesbian) sex/sensual imagery but i technically wouldn’t call it smut, all characters are 18, cheating, ellie could be read as slightly ooc towards the end if you’re a loser!ellie truther, reader is kind of evil but she makes up for it in later chapters, beginnings of angst at the end
wc - 8.8k
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙 ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
✦•┈๑⋅⋯𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗. 𝒂𝒐3 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
"Which one looks better?" Your best friend Kelsey asked, holding up two outfits to her body. Her bedroom was full of a buzz, an excitement only two eighteen year olds can have about a party. You looked over from where you sat at her vanity, busy packing eyeshadow on your lid, you craned your neck to see the options she laid out: a black dress with delicate lace adorning the hem and the plunging neckline, or a red tube top with light washed skinny jeans, rips cascading down the legs.
"Wear the dress." You replied simply, glancing over the options a few times before going back to swiping a brush over your eyes. Rap lilted from a speaker nestled in the corner of the windowsill, the volume low enough for you to hear your best friend humming along with the tune. She pulled her phone up from beside the speaker, and her eyes lit up.
"Brandon said him and Chase are gonna come early to pregame and help set up for the party!" She beamed, smile reaching her eyes. The girl was obsessed with her boyfriend, you on the other hand just rolled your eyes. You never did quite grow out of the 'boys are gross' phase, and only reluctantly started dating them since it's what everyone else did. You never truly liked any of your boyfriends, you viewed them as more of a convenient way to get people off your back about dating than a genuine partnership. Plus, everyone always talked about how their boyfriends were annoying, so were you truly that different?
"Ugh, do they have to?" You griped, not wanting to deal with Chase until you absolutely had to. The mere thought of him being at your side all night formed a thick coil of dread, smack in the middle of your chest.
You would never admit it to anyone, but his presence irked you to your core. He was far too clingy; always wanting to know how your day was, always checking in. Your friends said he was nice, and your parents loved him. You always thought there was just something wrong with you when it came to romance, well maybe not wrong, but you were different. You didn't quite know what was different until you took physics in spring of your sophomore year.
You’d been with Chase since the fall of junior year, and he truly was the perfect boyfriend. Your parents would always tell you how they liked him so much more than the other boys you've dated. You, on the contrary, had liked your previous endeavours better; sure almost all of them cheated, but you honestly couldn’t have cared less. It didn't hurt you, you didn't feel a hot rage at all, it was more of a cold pool of embarrassment in your gut, creeping through your veins for a moment before quelling the moment you realized this was one way to keep guys off your back: date a cheater, he leaves you alone for the most part, and you don't get unwanted attention.
So that's what you did, until Chase asked you to the Halloween formal with him. He stood with a couple other guys in the middle of the busy school cafeteria as conversations overlapped, one of his friends holding a pumpkin plushy, the other holding a bouquet of Halloween themed flowers. He looked pathetic, sloppy letters decorating the comically large poster: I know it's Haloween —he had spelled the holiday wrong— but I would never ghost you. Come with me to the dance? You cringed internally, the pickup line was insanely corny, but you also felt bad for him since he did have the guts to do this in front of the whole cafeteria. And it would be rude to turn him down in front of all your friends. So you agreed, painting your face with a smile you knew worked wonders, giving him a hug. And the rest was history.
If you had to be truthful, you had eyes for someone else. The kind of feelings that developed over the course of several months back in your sophomore year, a slow brewing of longing as you sat across from that auburn-haired girl in physics. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone but yourself. You had an image to uphold, though now that you've graduated you felt less pressure from peers and more pressure from your parents. Regardless, girls like you fell for boys, not girls. So you kept your secret desire locked away, pushed back into the depths of your brain: only pulling it out whenever you begrudgingly allowed Chase's lips to meet yours, only ever letting images of her flood your mind as his hands made their way down your body like he owned it. Picturing her was the only way you could let it happen without feeling like you were going to vomit, it was the only way to get through any intimate act.
"You really don't want them over? We could use the help." Kelsey frowned as she walked over to the vanity, feet sinking in the plush carpet beneath her. She swiped a lip kit that sat in front of you, biting her cheek as if she wanted to say something more, but she held her tongue. You felt your face pale, shame curling in your chest for a moment before you put on the almost-perfectly polished mask you had developed over the years.
"I love Chase, I really do," a lie, but one that slid off your tongue with ease, "but he can be a bit much sometimes." You explained, blowing on a wispy lash to get the glue tacky. Kelsey just mumbled something about using the bathroom, and left the room; blonde hair pulled back without a flyaway in sight, block heels in her hands as she shut the door with a soft click behind her.
Soon enough, the guys were at Kelsey's front door, bottles upon bottles of alcohol clanging together in the grocery bags held in their hands. Real subtle, as always. Kelsey went downstairs first, letting you finish your hair. The guys were so loud, so obnoxious. You grit your teeth as you finished braiding your hair, fingers moving as slow as possible to prolong your stay in Kelsey's room. The lush velvet covering the stool beneath you practically begging you to stay here the entire night to avoid your boyfriend. Eventually, you joined the three of them down in the living room, air already turning caustic from the excess of alcohol poured into a big punch bowl—along with a few splashes of kool-aid to offset it. Chase turned to you with a big smile on his face as you walked down the stairs, each step bringing you closer the performance you dreaded so much, the grueling yet necessary mask that could never stay put for too long.
The moment your bare feet met the chestnut floors, he pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. The smell of some overly masculine cologne invaded your nose, almost making your eyes water. Why did he have to put on so much? You give a small smile, mask on, performing to the best of your abilities, even though you knew your face would be falling and your annoyance would set in within the next hour, as it always did. But for now, you had to be happy to see him.
As the four of you set up tables, drinks, and food, Chase couldn't seem to leave you alone for more than two seconds, resulting in your annoyance making an appearance sooner than you thought. You were in the middle of placing red solo cups on the shellacked dining table when his hands snaked around your waist.
"Can you not." You stiffened, tone bordering on livid, but you held back. He didn't move, his hands stayed on your waist.
"Oh come on, babe," you shuddered when the name left his lips, not in a good way, "I just got here, be nice for like five minutes."
You reluctantly allowed him to stay around you, rolling your eyes, but letting him follow you through the halls of house as you continued setting up—placing plates in certain spots, picking up any family belongings you knew Kelsey's parents would lose their minds over if random schoolmates touched them. You allowed Chase's hands to brush your body like it was his right. And every time, you closed your eyes and pictured it was her instead of him. Just like you always did.
~~~
By the time the party had gotten into full swing, you were already tired of Chase's incessant need to touch you. The house smelled of desperation, cheap booze, and something metallic; a humid cloud encompassing everything and everyone, it you feeling muggy. You were scanning the room, hoping you would see the one person you desperately wanted—no, needed— to be in attendance. You doubted she would come, it wasn't necessarily like her to come to parties, you had always tried to invite her back in sophomore year, but she would refuse, telling you it wasn't her thing. The string of your patience regarding your boyfriend had worn thin by now, pulled taut, fraying down the middle. You were about to tell Chase off with an eye roll when you saw her walk through the door. Ellie Williams.
Your heart somersaulted in your chest, beating against your sternum in rapid thumps. You focused in on her face; the way the bridge of her nose complimented her cheek bones, you found yourself needing to see the freckles you could only ever count when you were up close. Freckles you hadn't counted since she sat across from you two years ago, since she generously offered to tutor you, free of cost. The tutoring which led to a relationship that constantly danced along the line between acquaintance and friend and maybe something else. If you were anybody else, you would have let it go further than what it was, instead, you stayed friendly once the semester had ended despite the tension, and had a boyfriend by October.
You noticed the way the strobing lights caught her auburn hair, which was messily pulled back in a low bun. You didn't realize how long you were staring until Kelsey pulled you out of the trance by calling your name a few times, just audible enough over the sound of teenagers who thought they were grown and hip-hop. You glanced up to find her standing by the stairs, and excused yourself from Chase, rising quickly as to not give him a chance to follow; the sticky leather from the couch beneath your thighs trying to keep you sat, clinging to your skin before reluctantly letting you stand with a schlick. You brushed away the hand that lingered against your ass, nausea curling deep in your gut at the motion. Finally getting the hint, Chase turned to a friend and started a conversation. Thank the lord.
As you weave through the sea of people in the hallway, as trying your best to avoid being bumped into a back covered in sweat, you accidentally bumped into Ellie, and your eyes locked with hers. Your shoulders brushed, and that feeling you hadn't felt in forever—that hot burst of want— flooded through your core. You feigned casualness instead of letting the sensation get the best of you.
"Hey! Didn't know if you'd make it or not." You said, a grin adorning your face. Your eyes traced her features again, the slit in her brow, the shine in her eyes, then down to her parted lips. You wished you could give her some lip gloss or balm, she was always licking them.
She looked at you for a second, standing still, almost shocked, before shrugging; "I got dragged here against my will." She gestured to Dina who was a few feet ahead, pulling Jesse along with her like a rag doll. Ellie sounded less than pleased to be in a room full of perspiration, bass, and make outs, but she had a flush on her cheeks that you were almost certain wasn't there before you two collided.
You smiled at her, and placed a hand on her elbow without a second thought, thumb running against her skin absentmindedly. "If it gets to be too much, text me, I'll take you home. You've still got my number right?"
Ellie stuttered, ears turning pink—almost unnoticeable in the dark, but when the lights changed from red to green, you could see the darker shade making its way down her neck and dusting her ears. "I- uh. Yeah. Sure." Her embarrassment made your heart race again, and you bit back a giggle, lip between your teeth.
"Perfect." As Ellie walked away, you felt a new hand on your shoulder, manicured nails brushing the straps of your tank top.
"Do you wanna get more drinks with me? We're running low." Kelsey asked, not even giving you a chance to answer before she dragged you over to her kitchen, opening the doors to a (thankfully) barren room, glamourous cream-coloured tiles decorating the floor and the walls, along with scattered bottles over top of the counter. Your heart began to calm down as you settled your back against the cool marble. The two of you stood in silence for a moment or two, grabbing vodka sodas from the fridge as the music shook the floor. You peer out the serving window and see Chase laughing with a friend before his eyes meet yours. You move swiftly, out of sight and overly dramatic.
“Oh my god Kels. Can you like get Brandon to fake blackout so Chase leaves me alone? They’re sorta friends right? I need to be alone for like ten minutes.” You complained, a frown on your face as you cracked open a can for yourself.
“You’re so strange. Chase is so attentive, it's amazing. Do you know how rare it is to find a guy from the football team who isn’t a total ass?” Kelsey asked as she cracked open a water bottle for herself before lugging a step-stool across the tile, reaching the liquor cabinet to pull out some cheap vodka her parents never touched.
“He’s too nice. It’s kind of gross.” You shrugged, eyeing the bottle, quickly grabbing it from her once she holds it out. You took one long swig of the disgusting clear liquor before setting it back down. Kelsey laughed, she always looked at you like she knew something whenever you decided to complain about your relationship. You truly hoped she didn't see right through you. She would have definitely said something by now, and you didn't have the time nor energy to figure it all out.
“I think you need to do some thinking about this relationship, my love.” Kelsey’s voice was soft, as it always is when it comes to your relationship. And without meaning to, your mind floated back to Ellie. Your mind found her, and how—after you talked to her in physics during the miserable spring of grade ten—she had been the one you saw behind your lids whenever you closed your eyes to receive a kiss from Chase, how she became the only way kissing him didn’t make you feel like you were dirty. Most people would think the opposite, most people would feel some level of guilt for emotional cheating, but you saw it as more of a strategy to keep your relationship happy. You took a breath, your free hand squeezing closed a couple times to get her out of your mind. It didn't work, so you spoke.
"Did you see Ellie walk in?" You asked, trying your best to sound indifferent, almost disgusted, despite the fluttering in your stomach when her name leaves your mouth.
"I did. Why?" Kelsey asked, she cocked her brow and began placing cans in a bucket of ice she scooped out from the freezer.
"I didn't expect to see her here is all."
"She probably came with Dina. I don't mind, I made it open invite for a reason," Kelsey said as she gave you an almost knowing look. You shook your head as you shot her a glare, there's no way she knew how you felt about Ellie—hell, you weren't even entirely sure how you felt—you'd been extremely cognizant of how you talk about her, at least you thought you were.
"What are you talking about?" You asked as a line formed between your brows. Kelsey almost smiled, teeth barely showing between her lips.
"I just think you need to reevaluate yourself." She mumbled as the two of you headed back out to the horde of people that crowded her living room. You kept scanning the room as Kelsey began to drift away, eyeing somewhere to put the drinks out, but you clung to her.
“I want Chase to go. Please Kels? I just don’t want to be around him right now. And he won’t listen unless I blow up at him.” You whispered through gritted teeth as if anyone else could have heard through the pounding music.
Kelsey just sighed, “I can start a beer pong game in the basement. He likes beer pong right?” You shrugged, to be honest you knew nothing about the guy.
You never asked him much, weren’t bothered to. “I think so.” You mumbled. So Kelsey rounded up the football guys, her boyfriend Brandon, and a handful of girls and led them downstairs. Thank God. You shot her a grateful look and mouthed ‘I love you’ as she disappeared down the stairs before going to sit back down on the couch. At least now there were less people crowding the main floor, which made your goal of finding Ellie again much easier.
You took another deep breath, scanning the room for her. You conversed with a few others in the living room as you nursed your drink before fully realizing she wasn't inside. So you went out to the porch. There were less people in the backyard, making it easy to spot her, smoking with a small group that included Jesse and Dina; they were all huddled near the back wall to the house. The wind wafted the somewhat unfamiliar tang of weed your direction. Ellie’s eyes found yours as you stared from the deck doors, back against the glass as you tried your best to look casual. You took another swig from the almost-empty can in your hands. Pausing for a moment, then looking to your left to see a few people you were decently close with, and you decided to talk to them first. Otherwise it would have looked like you came outside to find Ellie.
You joined the group, who was talking about what most of your conversations consisted since you were all graduated: What are you doing after school? The answers floated around; nursing, business, gap year. Some of them were staying in Jackson, someone was going to Europe, and quite a few were scattered around the country. When they asked you, a swell of pride bloomed in your chest as you told them about pre-law in New York. The conversation eventually came to a lull after around five minutes, and you noticed that Ellie’s smoke circle was still going on further down the yard; lawn chairs sprawled out along the grass, a few people sitting down, others, including Ellie, leaning casually against the siding. They were all laughing, and it didn't smell horrible either. So in your mind, it sounded like tonight was a great night to try weed for the first time. Plus, maybe you kind of saw it as a perfect opportunity to talk to Ellie one on one.
You didn't really care how it would look, your last day of school was yesterday, you were never seeing any of the people who were out in the yard ever again. You sauntered over, almost tripping over your feet in the grass. When the group realized you were approaching them, a few people raised their brows, but no one said anything to make you feel unwelcome. Not that you had expected them to, since you were pretty popular, friends with most people regardless of their unspoken social designation. You took the free spot beside Ellie, joining her against the porcelain-coloured wall, leaning back casually.
“Can I try?” You asked, voice lower than usual as you gestured to the joint between her fingers. You noticed how her ears were turning pink again, and she laughed awkwardly, sort of excusing herself from the group to speak with you. She guided you away from the group, closer to the outer corner overlooking the neighbourhood.
“You want to smoke?” She asked, giving you a once over as the two of you parted from the group.
You nodded, “I think I should try before I go off to college right?”
Ellie shrugged, and you took her by her sleeve, dragging her towards the peaceful street, the only sounds now were muffled conversations and crickets with the faintest hum of music. The two of you walked over to the sidewalk, Ellie looking as though it was her first day on earth. You took a seat on the curb, stretching out your legs in front of you. Ellie stayed standing above, a completely puzzled look on her face as she took another hit of her joint.
“Please Ellie? Give me one hit? Or even two…” You pleaded, and she sighed in response. She tentatively sat down next to you, and handed you the joint.
“Have you smoked anything before?” She asked, eyebrows raised.
“Vapes, cigarettes…” You nodded, and placed the joint between your lips.
“Well just don’t suck as hard as you would-“ She spoke too late, you were already sputtering out the smoke that you had inhaled far too eagerly, resulting in a less-than-welcome sting settling deep in your chest. Your eyes began to water as you doubled over.
Ellie chuckled, biting a cheek. “Yeah the filters on these are thinner. You don’t have to inhale as hard.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t aware.” Your sarcasm interrupted by the coughing. You felt a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. If it were Chase, you probably would have yelled at him for touching you, but this felt fine. It felt good, even. So good your stomach flipped, heart fluttering like it had every day she sat across from you during physics, answering your questions when you didn’t really get the material. You remembered one particularly rainy night you insisted on taking her home after your tutoring session, and how she gave you a dry hoodie for your walk home, even though she only lived two streets down from you and the rain was slowing down. 'I don't want you to freeze to death,' she had said with a soft smile. And you took the hoodie home, never gave it back. You just hung it up in the back of your closet, where it sat to this day.
You took another hit of the joint, this time far less aggressive, in an attempt to calm the overwhelming realization that you totally had a crush on her, that this was the feeling all your friends referred to when they had crushes on boys. Instead, you just started to feel even more hyper-aware of your situation. You could feel the weed fogging your brain, curling behind your eyelids and making them heavy; so you leaned against Ellie’s shoulder. She paused for a minute, stunned.
“What are you doing?” She asked, voice weary.
“Let me rest for a second I’ve never smoked this before, remember?” You said lazily, throat feeling like it was made of sandpaper—a less-than-pleasant result of your coughing fit no doubt.
“Do you need anything? Water maybe?” She pulled a plastic bottle out from her back pocket and offered it to you. You took it graciously, pulling the plastic rim up to your lips as the water flowed into your mouth. You could almost feel her gaze burning into you, and you found yourself hoping that her eyes were focused on the way your lips wrapped around the plastic.
“Thank you.” You said, looking into her eyes once you finished drinking. The moonlight reflected the tiniest specks of gold in her green eyes, you’d never noticed that before. And you were good at noticing things about her. You lean forwards, "How long does it take for weed to hit you?" Ellie quirked and eyebrow, a flush now evidently making a home along her cheeks.
She paused for a moment, licking her bottom lip, before she spoke; "given the way you're acting I'd say probably now." Her eyes traced your face, as if to memorize the curve of your brow or the pout of your lip. Before you could even realize, your nose was brushing hers, and you could feel her breath brushing your lips.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re like really pretty?” You asked, voice soft, partially shocked at your sudden boldness. It must have been the weed making you say what you were thinking. Ellie blinked a couple times, eyes on your lips before she took a shuddering breath.
“Have you been drinking too?” She bit her lip, pulling away slightly and avoiding your gaze. Your knees were still brushing against hers as her whole face turned scarlet.
“What? No I’ve had like one shot and a couple coolers.” You looked at her like the mere question of you being drunk was offensive.
“I’m just high. Maybe tipsy.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, trailing down to her hand and absentmindedly trace a vein you noticed was popping up from where her middle finger met her knuckle, dancing up to her wrist before fading into her forearm. Her entire arm was a bit more toned than you had expected it to be. It was more toned than it had been that one time she came over in a tank top and you felt something pool low in your gut for the first time. Now it was your turn to blush.
Ellie sighed, shaking her head. She looked at you for a moment, “You’re sure you aren’t drunk? Why are you... Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“Oh my God I don’t give a fuck about my fucking boyfriend.” You groaned, tired of the mere thought of him. You turned your head away, looking back at Kelsey's house; the backyard was almost empty, most people having gone back inside. You prayed the game Kelsey had started started was still going on, so nobody would see you.
Ellie chuckled, “why are you dating him then? If you don’t care about him.” She asked as you turned towards her again, wind wrapping around the two of you, almost leading you to believe you were alone with her, and not sitting on the curb next to your best friend's house as your boyfriend partied inside.
You just shrugged, head tilting and averting your eyes after realizing you were holding contact for too long. “My parents like him. Everyone likes him.”
“Do you like him?” Ellie asked, voice calm.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Of course I like him.”
You lied, giving the same answer you gave anyone who asked you that question. You liked that he reflects well on you, you liked how nice his parents are. But you didn't like him. And you didn't really think you ever would. You’d never truly liked the guys you dated, but everyone complained about how horrible their boyfriends were. So you figured nobody really truly like their boyfriend. You two sat in silence, and Ellie finished her joint, letting you take one last hit before stomping out the butt.
“Can you take me home Ellie?” You asked after a few moments of silence, nervous she would say no. She just nodded, getting up from the curb and holding a hand out for you which you took. And you didn't let go of it. You felt electric, there was something charged between your bodies, like the air before a storm. You'd never felt this before—no matter how many times you made out or had sex with a guy—and you had barely even touched her.
“I’m only a couple of streets down.” You said, voice still a bit rough from smoking. You could feel your thoughts moving fast. They started to replay every gaze between the two of you that lingered a split second too long, the quiet nights in your room as she patiently explained complicated concepts like it was easy, her gentle tone when you got an answer wrong followed by encouragement. You replayed the last day of school sophomore year, when you'd both needed to grab something for an activity entailing things you now no longer remembered, the only memory in your mind from that day was you and Ellie getting stuck in a supply closet, chests pressed together as you both blushed furiously and looked anywhere but at each other, the air thick with a mutual desire you were both too scared to act on.
You began doing far too much thinking, and far too much realizing. You left a party hand in hand with her, and it felt like there was a fire surging through your veins. You had a thrum in your stomach, and you were nervous. You never got nervous, not like this. Your heartbeat was rushing in your ears, making its way to your cheeks. As you turned down your street, you started to realize something while the streetlights cast a glow down on both of you. You wouldn't see anyone other than Kelsey or maybe Chase for the rest of your life. You didn't have to uphold an image to anyone except your parents. So the realization, while it hit hard, was something you felt able to act on.
“It's just down there.” You stated casually as you guided her down the street to your house. As if she hadn't been there before.
She let out a soft laugh, "I know, Y/N."
“You never answered me.” You spoke to distract yourself from how heat bloomed in your chest at the way she said your name.
“What?”
“I asked if you’ve ever been told you’re pretty.”
“Oh.” Ellie chuckled awkwardly, free hand scratching the back of her neck, “I have, yeah. Have you?” You saw her make a face—probably at her own response—once the words left her mouth. You shrugged, deciding to take a risk.
“I mean Chase calls me pretty but I’ve never been told that by someone I actually like.” You felt your cheeks getting hot as the two of you turned down into your driveway, silence washing over you as you approached your front door. The steps of the porch creaked underneath your weight, a loud complaint in the quiet night. Ellie paused, glancing at you, then at your hand which was still holding hers, then back up to your face again.
“What are you trying to get at?” She asked, green eyes now narrowed, but her cheeks were rosy as if she already knew.
“I think I like you, Ellie.” You said quietly, looking directly at her plush lips. There were little indents where she eased her teeth against the skin when she got nervous. You looked up into her eyes, her long lashes blinking twice. You search for any sign of indignation, but you find nothing but blown pupils, just slivers of green trying to make themselves seen as desire overtook them.
Her hand squeezed yours, “What?” She looked shocked, cheeks crimson. And you took a step forward, tilting your head.
“I said I like you.” You said, noticing how her face turned from confusion to something adjacent to relief. Her eyes trailed your face; from your lips to your eyes before she closed the distance between you two. Her lips met yours, and they were fuller and softer than Chase’s. She didn't kiss like she wanted to eat your face, she kissed like she wanted to cherish the moment. You felt something stirring inside you, a fire igniting in your gut and radiating through to your fingertips as you pulled her in closer by the fabric of her t-shirt, parting your lips for her. When your tongues met, you were sure of one thing: you were about to make a the best mistake of your life.
~~~
The sun was gleaming through your gossamer curtains the following morning, waking you up in a far more peaceful manner than any alarm ever could. The air smelled of cinnamon buns and vanilla, as it always did—the candle you lit every night before taking a shower and settling in your bed sat on your nightstand, wafting through the room. The constant heavy feeling in your chest was no longer there. Instead, a light and airy sensation replaced it. You shifted, Ellie's arm lazily wrapped around your waist, her fingers grazing the pink silk pulled over your mattress. You paused for a moment, two things on your mind. One: you just had the best night of your life, and two: you needed to break up with Chase, the sooner the better.
You reached to your pristine nightstand, where your phone lay, untouched but plugged in. You didn't remember doing that last night, maybe Ellie had. The thought of her doing something so minimal yet so caring sent a warm surge from your chest outwards. Your fingers slid under the phone, bringing it towards yourself and turning it on to see an onslaught of messages from Kelsey, Chase, and your mother. Kelsey was just wondering where you went and if you were safe, so you answered her first with a simple wasn't feeling it, i got home safe and just woke up sufficing.
You ignored whatever Chase sent and opened the thread with your mother. It was a simple, loving reminder about what was in the fridge while your parents spent their anniversary in Bali. With a sigh, you placed your phone back on the night stand, and slipped out of bed. You tried to remember if you showered last night, though your mind had been incredibly foggy from the sex. Your cheeks flushed at the very thought of everything you did last night, and how much you had enjoyed it. This had to be what all the hype was about, every time your friends would whisper about how amazing sex was, you had just nodded along with them, though never truly experiencing anything mind-blowing. And now you had.
The room still smelled faintly of sex; sweat, salt, and something sweet mingling in the air. You quickly opened a window, letting a breeze in and then stepped into your bathroom, sage green tiles accenting the wall where your shower stood, the steam curling up into the room before being whisked away by the fan. You opened the shower door, letting the warm water engulf you as you quickly scrubbed your scalp, then your body. Soon enough, the room smelled faintly of vanilla—some summer coconut version of it from Victoria's Secret you purchased the other week. You wrapped yourself in a plush pink towel before rubbing the matching lotion scent into your skin.
When you finally got a good look at yourself in the mirror, you almost gasped. Your neck was practically covered in faint purple-red marks, trailing down to your collarbones and over your cleavage. You did not think it would be this bad today. Thank God your parents were gone for the next four days. You made your way back into your room, careful with the door as to not wake Ellie up. Your efforts went out the window immediately, as the girl was sat up in your bed, lazily scrolling through her phone. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes trailing down her bare torso. You focus in on the constellation of freckles on her left shoulder, the ones you had lazily mapped out using your finger last night before falling asleep. When she noticed you leaving the bathroom, she grinned.
"You're up." She stated simply, stretching her arms over her head, almost as if she wanted to tease you with her small tits, her nipples hard in the morning air that was welcomed in by your window, filled the room with a refreshing coolness. You nodded, biting your cheek and trying to look anywhere except her body. You couldn't ogle, that would be creepy.
"Oh come on Y/N." Ellie yawned, slipping her legs out of bed and standing up. Without a second thought your eyes tracked down her body to the patch of auburn hair covering where her thighs met. You looked away, feeling the same sensations you had last night: an almost unquenchable desire to reach out and touch her.
"You already saw me naked last night, why are you acting weird?" She continued, the girl who had once been a semi-anxious mess around you now almost swelled with confidence while your heart worked overtime.
"I'm not acting weird, I just." You sighed, lip between your teeth, "I don't usually see girls naked. And I don't usually feel like this so forgive me," you almost quipped towards the end of your sentence, the playful sass you usually had around her returning. Ellie nodded in acknowledgement with a playful smirk on her face, leaning down to pick up her discarded clothes. Then, her feet carry her across the carpet. She stood a mere foot in front of you, still in the nude, and you, only covered by your towel. It felt like there was a magnet between the two of you, a charge lingering between bodies that couldn't dare be apart for more than a few moments. Hesitantly, you reached out and took her hand in yours.
"I had a really good time last night." You murmured, almost too quiet for her to pick up in the comfortable hum of the empty house. Her eyes found yours, green as always, with something fond gleaming as they traced your face. You leaned forward, lips parted and welcoming. The kiss was less hungry than last night, it was soft, appreciative and warm. Between moments, she purred against your lips; "I would hope so."
When you part, your lips are pink, and a bit swollen. You looked at her, taking her in for a moment before speaking.
"I didn't expect you to get so confident with me overnight." You smiled playfully, the truth slipping out easily. You had pegged her for a more nervous-wreck type girl around her crush. Clearly, you were wrong and she had ample experience with girls, while you had none. Ellie shrugged, "I'm full of surprises. And questions."
You laughed, a bright airy laugh that rarely comes out anymore. "What kind of questions?"
Ellie quirked a brow, a grin adorning her face. "Oh I have so many. Answer them while we get food?" She suggested.
The two of you sat in your living room, the plush couch sinking beneath your weight as you talked, conversation flowing lightheartedly. You felt at ease, no need to perform for anyone, and it was freeing. Scary and different, but freeing nonetheless. You talked for a couple hours, plates from the morning discarded on the white coffee table as laughter filled the room. Eventually and inevitably, the conversation turned to Chase.
"I'm going to break up with him. Like literally as soon as possible." You managed to reassure, ideally later that day. Ellie just nodded, almost solemn, and potentially shocked you were showing little to no remorse for cheating on the guy. She took a breath, trying her best to quell the thrum in her chest due to the lack of distance between you.
"Have you ever been with a girl before?" Tone genuine, and brows arching in concern. She fiddled with her hands awkward
"No. I haven't," you watched as her face began to turn guarded and you placed a hand on her arm, "trust me though, I've been with enough guys to know what I like. Especially after last night." This drew out a smile from her, and the conversation got easy once more.
~~~
Later that afternoon, after you had spent the last hour of your time with Ellie making out on the couch, you got into your car to drive over to Chase's house Your goal of a clean split set in mind as you prepared to take your mini cooper 15 minutes out. Your knuckles turned white against the steering wheel while you racked your brain to find the words to say to him. It was arguably harder than trying to get into NYU pre-law, what were you supposed to say? 'Sorry, I cheated on you last night and I'm totally a lesbian.' 'I haven't really loved you this whole time and I need to break up with you.' Your mind was turning like the cogs in a clock, trying to figure out an admission you could allow to leave your mouth, debating whether you should have no admission and simply break it clean off; no warning, no explanation. You sighed, gnawing the inside of your cheek as you turned down your street, autopilot taking over, allowing you to follow the curve of the paved streets with ease as you zoned out.
Rather than continuing your brainstorm for a way to break up with your boyfriend like you had intended, your mind honed in on memories of the girl in your bed last night. Images flashed before you, unexpected, though not unwelcome. You were reminded of the way you didn't even make it to your room before you slid out of your skirt and had her coax your first orgasm without even dipping into you, without even truly touching your skin. It happened so easily, with you pushed up against your front door; Ellie's hesitation followed by you reassuring that your parents wouldn't be home until Wednesday. You remembered how both your hands were everywhere; waists, asses, necks, swells of breasts. The way you two giggled the entire way up to your room like you were doing something you shouldn't—which was partially true, you probably should have broken things off with Chase months ago.
Above everything, what stuck with you the most was the hunger. It was present the entire night; a suppressed desire pushed aside for two years finally allowed to come to fruition. The way she was so gentle with you, even when you asked for it to be hard; it didn't turn into something overly aggressive. There was an underlying, unspoken agreement of mutual respect that settled into your room the moment you stepped foot inside. You squeezed your thighs together at the memories, heat flooding easily as you sat at a particularly long red light. To distract yourself, you pulled down the sunshade, snapping the mirror open to check your neck. You'd masterfully covered all the marks along your neck and collarbone with a thick NARS concealer and packed on the powder—no one could see a thing.
By the time the tires of your car rolled onto Chase's driveway, you were almost certain your mind had worked a wet patch into your panties, and you silently shunned yourself for pulling on light grey sweats instead of black in case you soaked through. Chase's house was pristine, as always. Blue paint redone the moment his mother noticed chipping on their siding, manicured lawns, and gardens meticulously taken care of by the landscapers. Unlike most porches, theirs did not complain under your weight, it never has, his mother was far too concerned with things that could make their family look bad and apparently, a creaky porch was one of them. It didn't take long for the white door to swing open after your knuckles rap against its decorative window, intricate floral designs carved perfectly into the glass. Chase's face scrunches up when he opens the door, sun shining into the house. He stands there, blinking several times, evidently having woken up mere minutes ago, likely with a hangover.
"Hey," you tried to smile, voice soft like you were about to tell a kid they did something wrong.
"Hey you snuck out on me last night," he smirked, a small chuckle bubbling out from him, and he let you in the house. His hands immediately found your waist and guided you up to his room; your heart beat threatening to escape from your throat, and a familiar uncomfortable feeling settled into your bones. This place was associated with perfection and performance, nothing less was tolerated. His door flew open as you both entered, and the place was a mess as always. Piles of laundry waiting to be done, cans of pop strewn on his desk where his laptop sat half opened as if he couldn't be bothered to shut it off completely. It would have been amusing, the juxtaposition his room offered compared to the rest of the house, had there not been a strong smell of over-sprayed cheap cologne masking omnipresent notes of dirty laundry. The scent was truly repulsive, your nose wrinkled as he pulled you further into the abyss he called a room.
"Look we need to—" You tried to speak, but he didn't let you finish, instead he swept you up, put you down on his unmade bed, and kissed you. Your eyes went wide, hands curled into fists against his chest. You tried to speak against his lips, but he opens his mouth wider, covering both your mouth and chin in saliva. It was disgusting, and it made you wish you stayed back at the house with Ellie. He kissed down your jaw, making his way down your neck. Your nerves spiked, a hot jolt of realization coursing through your body: If he licks anything he's going to see the hickeys Ellie so graciously left behind last night. So you improvised, closing your eyes and letting yourself see her in your mind. It was your best bet at mustering up the most realistic, genuine whimper possible. That was the trick you used the entire relationship, the only way you allowed yourself to feel something—only this time, you could pull a vision from experience. His harsh teeth grazed your neck, with much more intensity than necessary.
You pictured how Ellie's face looked between your thighs last night, the relentless rhythm of her velvety tongue against your clit.
And you let her name slip out of your mouth, low and needy.
Chase pulled back, body lifting off of yours.
"What?" His eyebrows shot up in shock, visible hurt carved into his face. His room, though never a truly relaxing space for you, fills with an uncomfortably tense air. You felt a curled ball of guilt forming deep in your gut, replacing any remaining lust your fantasy of Ellie provided. And you put on a front; the whimpered name was just an accident rather than a prayer spoken to get out of this. Your hand flew up to your mouth, sheets rumpled around you as you sit still, fake shock washing over your face. Chase stared at you, silent for a moment, then he spoke.
"Who the fuck is Ellie? Like the girl from school?" He almost snapped, your brows furrowed together as he backed his way against his dresser. "Un-fuckin'-believable. So what you're just a lesbo now?"
You sucked in a breath, your lip between your teeth as you bit down hard. Your cheeks began to genuinely burn up. You took a long shuddering breath and do the only thing you can think of: you shrug, as if it was the most casual thing in the world for Ellie's name to be drawn out from the depths of you as your boyfriend (ex?) nipped your neck.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you Y/N?" His voice teetered between rage, disgust, and heartbreak. He looked down at you, as you fiddled with your hands, letting the awkwardness hang heavy in the thick air between the two of you. "Have you just been a fag this whole time?"
"I'm sorry. I should go." Your voice fell flat, and you stood up, heart racing at the slur so easily thrown your way. That was the last thing you had expected to hear him say, lesbo wasn't a surprise, but fag? You quickly made your way out of his room, socks sliding against hardwood as you practically ran down the stairs, slid on your shoes, and opened your car door to leave. The shame you didn't think you would feel curled into your gut, and as you made your way back to your place, hot tears trickled out of your eyes. You weren't mourning the relationship, not at all, but you were taking off a safety vest, jumping into the murky, unfamiliar waters of what you truly wanted, and that scared you more than anything. Some part of you was sobbing because of the slur he hurled your way, the word flung at you with such ease, almost like it was in his day-to-day vocabulary.
You were ten minutes into your drive back when your tears finally stopped their slope down from your cheeks to your neck, welling right above your collarbone before slipping beneath your shirt. As soon as your car was parked in your driveway, you pulled your phone out. You texted Kelsey first:
You - i just broke up w chase
She answered quickly,
Kelsey - How come?
You - idk, i kinda realized i didnt like him and reevaluated like you said
It wasn't a complete lie, you did reevaluate in a sense.
Kelsey - As long as you're not heartbroken ml. I'm here if you need me
You - thanks, im not heartbroken at all dont even worry
You sent Ellie a quick text, just letting her know you had just broken things off with Chase then you shut your phone off, and headed back into your house.
As the month of July got closer, you and Ellie began to spend more and more time together. You learned that she was moving to Seattle for her undergrad.
"What are you going to major in?" You asked, tracing those freckles you enjoyed so much on her left shoulder. She smiled, raising a brow before replying with a dry: "What do you think I'm majoring in?"
When you replied with physics, she promptly corrected you by telling you that it was astrophysics, to which you rolled your eyes and mumbled something about how it was basically the same thing, resulting in a long explanation on the difference.
"-But astrophysics is way cooler it actually applies all the laws to everything out there. Way cooler than the regular stuff." She trailed on for five minutes like this, before realizing you were looking at her lips moving: "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Because I want you to stop talking and kiss me."
You spent most of July over at her place, Joel was not homophobic, unlike your parents, so the two of you could curl up together on the couch without him batting an eye. He did give you some stern warning along the lines of 'be good to her' when the three of you went camping. You told your parents your friend had invited you for the weekend, your mother didn't bat an eye, but your dad raised a brow without saying much.
Nothing was ever labelled, and you think that's why you liked it so much. You were still figuring out your own identity, and with external pressures from your parents it was hard to accept. Who you truly were in your soul was someone you only ever felt you could show around Ellie, and you were grateful for that. You were additionally grateful that Chase never told anyone in town about what happened, you never spoke to him after the day you frantically left his house and ended things, but had he told people, your parents would have confronted you and asked if it was true.
Towards the end of July, Kelsey began to question you about your mystery summer fling who she knew as 'Elliot.' You were sitting in her kitchen, gossiping over a bowl of chips when she pointed out the hickey on your collarbone, one you must have forgotten to cover before heading over to hers. You played it off, explaining how you had a sleepover at 'Elliot's' place the other day, and even though she didn't question you, she still gave you a look as if to tell you she could see right through the bullshit.
Everything between you and Ellie was going perfectly, until one blisteringly hot day in the middle of August, when you took her heart beneath your foot and stomped down. No warning, no lead up. Just a simple text:
synopsis: Sevika gets transported to an alternative universe, following along with Ekko.
But she can't bear to leave when she realizes she has everything she could ever want, you.
warnings: hardcore angst, arcane alternate universe, reader perspective but also Sevika's sprinkled in (duh)
word count: 2.0k
a/n: this is based off of a few headcanons i saw on tiktok by @/gabby.zilla so go watch them ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
"Hey what're you doing?" You giggle as you see Sevika stumble randomly. You two were just walking through the streets of Zaun when some sort of dizziness had hit your girlfriend.
You watched as she fell onto the stoned ground, she seemed to be shaking ever so slightly. "Baby?" You called her, concerned.
When she looked up at you, her grey eyes seemed to have a mix of both terror and confusion. She flinched away from you and backed up into a brick wall, body still shaking.
"Woah," you flinched back instinctively. "Are you ok, baby?" You walked towards her, holding her calloused hand in yours.
"Look at me," you used your other hand to gently caress her face. "What happened?"
You didn't realize it, but this wasn't Sevika.
Or it wasn't your Sevika.
While the woman in front of you is technically Sevika, it's a different one. It's one that's not the gentle - yet intimidating - woman that you met and fell in love with so long ago.
It was a version of Sevika you had never met.
One that was ruthless and distant towards everyone.
However, this version of her wasn't always like that.
There was a point in her own universe where you were the same special person to her that you are in this universe. You were the one person that was somewhat able to break down that structured wall that she had around her. The one person that she truly loved - even if she'd never admit that.
Or she wishes she would have told you how much she loved you.
She had always thought that she'd be able to protect you, so she never felt entirely anxious about you getting harmed; it was more the idea of you leaving that scared her. However, after an unexpected ambush, she found your cold body sprawled onto the ground.
She hadn't even been there during your last breath.
That was the last time she had seen you. Until now.
You were confused as to why your girlfriend seemed so scared while looking at you, so you continued to caress her face and hold her hand.
"Hey," you whisper softly, people walking past you two through the streets. "Are you ok?"
Despite your hand nor ears being anywhere near her heart, you can feel and hear the fastened beating of her heart. You're not sure as to what caused for this sudden reaction. But you're here for her nonetheless.
"C'mon," you pull her gently by her roughened hand, directing her to your guys' shared home. As you two walk through the streets once more, the bright sun shines in your eyes and warms your skin.
You unlock the front door, your keychains jingling against the door as you wiggle the key into the doorknob. Sevika is still silent at this point, but you attempt not to pry.
Of course, there are days where things are more difficult for her.
So this isn't anything new per se.
What's new is the suddenness and the reaction she had when her eyes locked in on yours. But you know that it's always better for her when you two just stay silent. Melting into each other's bodies as you two embrace one another.
It's not until you gently pull her onto your guys' shared bed that she realizes that it's you.
It's actually you.
She's not dreaming.
You're in her arms, and you seem even more radiant than the other you that she once knew. You're happier. The trauma and pain you once carried no longer weighing you down like it did so long ago.
It doesn't take long before she also gives her attention to her arm that's wrapped around you.
She had felt so disoriented she hadn't even realized how the arm that she lost so long ago was actually there, and you alongside it.
It was so bizarre to her that in another life this could've been what she had. Rather than the reality that she had grown so accustomed to after years of living through the worst scenarios possible.
The fact that in an entirely different universe, she was still in your life. You were still hers. And you were here, with her.
It all felt so surreal to her.
She couldn't help but feel envious of this version of her.
The version that gets to wake up and live this reality each day.
The reality that she could only ever wish of possibly having.
The way that this version of herself gets to hear your soft breathing through the night as you sleep. The fact that this version of her gets to feel the warmth of your embrace through her daily life.
While she all she was able to remember was the cold feeling of your body as she held onto you. The stiffness of your body; the same arms that once held onto her now forever limp and motionless. The smile that she so desperately loved gone from her sight.
Until now.
She hadn't even been sure of how she got here, and she didn't care to know. All she knew was that you were here in her arms. Your warmth wrapped around her like it used to be.
You felt the warmth of her left hand as it caressed the back of your hair. You looked up from the crook of her neck - where you had originally buried your face - and smiled.
"Are you ok now?" You ask.
She still seems so disoriented, but you hope that she's at least somewhat better soon.
You shyly look away as Sevika's grey eyes just stay locked on your eyes. It's almost as if she physically can't pull away from your gaze. It reminded you of when you first met her, she just kept staring at you until she managed to approach you that night.
Despite it taking awhile for Sevika to respond, she just nodded and provided you with a simple, "mhm."
"Ok," you still hold your softened smile. "Do you want to come with me or do you want to stay?"
Sevika raises an eyebrow, "huh?"
"Remember?" You giggle, "I'm supposed to be helping with decorating the whole Young Innovator's Contest or whatever it was called."
She stared and blinked at you for a moment, before attempting to just play along so this universe's version of you wouldn't be weirded out. "Oh yeah, I'll go with you."
"Really?" You scoff playfully, "you never usually go with me! Last year you came up with some stupid excuse to not come."
"I'm just full of surprises," Sevika said, trying to seem less disoriented than she really was.
However, you notice - you always notice - "why don't you stay home?" You ask her, "you don't seem like you're doing too good."
"No," she says almost instantly - nearly scaring you. "I'll come, I'm fine."
You nod and kiss her.
Her dark lips making contact with your soft ones.
As you pull away, you continue to smile at her, before getting off of both her and the bed.
"C'mon baby," you attempted to pull her up - knowing you couldn't considering that she's purely muscle.
Sevika smirked as she saw your attempt and got up herself. You smiled and dragged her out of your guys' house.
"Wait," she called out as you ran out of the door, "shouldn't you lock the door?"
"Oh yeah!" You exclaim and quickly lock the door.
It doesn't take long for you to decorate - mainly because you kept bothering Sevika to help you with certain ones. And by certain ones it was almost majority of them.
Despite her disdain towards decorating for something she deemed pointless, she complied and followed with your requests.
People began coming into the 'venue' of sorts at around 8:00PM.
The sun had already gone down by now, and the beautiful lights that you got Sevika to put up had been turned on.
Neither of you had been paying much attention to the contest - especially Sevika. All of her attention has been going towards you. Whether it's anxiety or yearning or both, she's unsure of, but she just simply feels the need to have you close to her.
After the contest, a few bands begin playing.
When a certain song begins getting performed, she sees the sparkle in your eyes - the one that she used to see almost daily so long ago.
"What is it?" She chuckles, crossing her arms.
"Come dance with me," you smile and drag her to the middle of the room where many other people are dancing.
You practically force yourself into her arms and excitedly move around - attempting to dance.
And with the music playing, having you in her arms once more, she didn't want to leave.
She knew she had to.
This isn't her home.
She's not supposed to be here.
You're not even hers.
You belong to the version of herself that lives the life that she so dearly dreamt and worked for.
But how can she go back to a life where you're not there.
A life that can't be considered home without your warmth in it.
You looked so happy as you danced wildly in her arms.
Usually, she would've felt embarrassed by this. By the way she's showing such public affection in front of so many people, but she makes an exception for tonight; knowing that come tomorrow morning, she'll never be able to experience this ever again.
As the final song came to its end, and as people cleared out of the event, she dreaded going back.
Dreaded having to wake up in a bed that once carried you in it.
Despised the fact that it couldn't have been her that lived this life.
While it technically was her, it was a different version of her. One that seemed to have everything that she wanted. One that hadn't needed to live in constant fear or stress.
As you two made it to your front door - your keychains jingling against the wooden door once again - she just kept thinking about how this is the last time she'll see you.
The last time she'll feel your warmth and your soft breaths against her tanned skin.
The last time her grey eyes can look into yours.
You drag her onto your shared bed, not realizing that your Sevika won't even remember the beauty of the night you had just shared with this separate version of her.
You wrap your arms tightly around her - her arms following soon after and wrapping themselves around your waist.
"I love you," you whisper against her chest, already drifting off into a deep slumber.
Sevika hesitates before speaking.
It feels wrong to say this.
You're not hers.
You're a different version of yourself.
You're not the same you that she fell in love with in the past.
But this time, she can actually say that she loves you.
She can rid herself of the guilt of never being able to verbally express to you how much she truly loves you.
"I love you too," she mumbles softly, kissing the top of your head and allowing for you to sleep atop her body.
As she watches the slow rises and falls of your breathing, she thinks about how at least this version of her will take good care of you. She knows how you'll manage to live a happy life. The life that the other you wanted and fought for until the very end.
That's the last thing she remembers before drifting off.
When she wakes up, it feels like a cruel dream.
You're not there in her arms.
She's alone in her bed - the same bed that you two had once shared. Your side of the bed is empty, and your bedside table still carries the clutter and trinkets that she can't bear to get rid of.
At least she got to feel your warmth and love one last time.
comment to be added to my perm taglist ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
they’re singing deck the halls ( but it’s not like christmas at all )
— summary : spending christmas alone leads you to the bar to drink away your sorrows which leads you to… your ex’s house ?
— pairings (SEPERATE) : natasha romanoff x reader (1.3k), wanda maximoff x reader (1.5k), agatha harkness x reader (0.8k), rio vidal x reader (0.8k)
— warnings : angst, slight hurt/comfort, drunk!reader, connotations to a toxic relationship, so much guilt, natasha’s kinda mean, agatha is... meaner, wanda and rio my softies :((
you were standing at your ex’s doorstep.
there was no excuse for it, no real reason you should be there. you don’t even have the slightest idea why you are there. all you remember is going to the bar, the one drink you promised yourself turning into several, and before you knew it, your legs had carried you to the one place you had been trying not to think about, the one place you used to call home.
christmas used to be your least favourite holiday. your family lived hours away and your friends were all wrapped up in their own relationships. they wereall busy with their own plans, plans that you were never part of. you told yourself you didn’t care, that it was just another regular day despite the lights glowing on the streets and carols constantly being played on the radio. but that had been a lie.
christmas didn’t feel so empty two years ago.
because you had her.
she made it bearable, she made it feel warm. she turned that stupid fucking holiday into something that felt like home.
and now the only person you could’ve spent christmas with was the one person you no longer could.
you broke up with her.
and now you kind of wanted to throw yourself off a cliff for that decision.
maybe it was the drinks talking, but what was it that people said again ? your brain fogged for a second before it rang in your head… ah yeah you remembered now, drunk words are sober thoughts. you giggle to yourself. how absolutely fucking funny.
so here you were. a beer dangling loosely from your fingers, a drunk, giddy smile on your lips as your hand reached up to knock on her door.
you let out a slurred giggle when you heard footsteps on the other side, some part of you excited to see her expression when she saw you. but the second you heard the lock click, sobriety hit some part of you like a cement truck.
what the fuck did you think you were doing ?
it was too late now though. you were already there, standing in front of her home, the one you used to call your own. you quickly shoved that thought away though.
you didn’t want to think.
that was the whole reason you went to the bar in the first place.
₊˚ʚ NATASHA
natasha knew it was you before she even clicked open the lock.
she didn’t know how, only that the feeling hit her, sudden and intrusively, a sinking weight in her gut that she hadn’t felt in two years.
maybe it was because she hadn’t had anyone to celebrate christmas with as well and spent the night awake and staring at the ceiling, thinking about that simple, ugly fact. and maybe it was because she still knew the sound of your footsteps, the rhythm of them, as if her body had refused to forget even when she forced herself to.
either way.
natasha pretends she doesn’t know.
it’s easier that way.
natasha steps back when she opens the door, deja vu flooding her veins at the sight of you on her doorstep, it was the very same image she was greeted with everytime you ‘got bad again,’ everytime you had nowhere else to land. her chest tightens, a protective instinct she never trained out of herself lunges out. she wants to hold you, to check if you’re okay, to see if there are bruises tainting your skin and make sure your breathing is even.
she doesn’t.
instead, she lets her eyes scan your body, it was safer that way.
“merry christmas !” you announce brightly, throwing your arms up in the air. the beer you held sloshes over the lips of the bottle and splatters onto the floor, droplets hitting natasha’s bare feet.
she doesn’t react.
she doesn’t speak for a while.
she just watches you sway, feet barely keeping you body up, watches the way you giggle at her like this is a fucking joke, like this doesnt mean anything at all. something in her chest sinks.
“you’re drunk.” natasha mutters.
you raise an eyebrow with a smile, “well…” you glance down at yourself, the messy, wrinkled clothes and unsteady hands about to let the bottle of beer slip through your hands, “yeah,” you snort to yourself, a small laughing fit ensuing.
natasha looks away before you can see what it does to her.
she swallows once, trying to force the lump in her throat down. then again. it doesn’t work. she almost laughs at herself. world renowned superspy, trained to break minds, she could trick gods and survive alien invasions but she can;t stop her emotions from betraying her in front of her ex.
she wants to yell at you. to scream about how careless you are, how inconsiderate it was of you to just show up at her door like that. how incredibly stupid it is to walk to her house drunk at 2 fucking am without thinking about who might be daring enough to take advantage of you. she wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you.
but she also wants to pull you into her arms. to tell you she’s missed you every single day for the past two years even if she doesn’t want to admit that to herself. that christmas isn’t christmas without you in her apartment, draping lights and ornaments over what you used to call her ‘annoyingly bland house’ and hanging mistletoe everywhere just so you’d have an excuse to kiss her every thirty seconds.
she pushes it all down and lets her voice spill out of her throat before she loses a hold of her emotions.
“you don’t get to come back like this.” natasha says quietly, her eyes are hard and shining all at once, “not when you’re hurting and not when you know i won’t turn you away.”
her voice is steady. you think that’s the worst part.
you don’t laugh this time, the smile fading from your lips. it wasn’t real to begin with. you nod once, swallowing.
“i-i know.” your voice cracks, “i’m sorry, nat.”
natasha shakes her head, a small angry smile on her lips because you don’t get to call her that anymore. not after she watched you walk out her apartment with your things without even a word of sorry.
she holds your gaze for a moment longer than she should and the silence stretches, she looks at you long enough to see the apology settle on your tongue, to decide whether it’s real. long enough to remind herself that your apology being genuine or not never once stopped her from caring.
natasha steps back.
your breath hitches because you were prepared to head home.
it's a small movement, barely noticeable, but it’s still an invitation in.
before you can say anything natasha’s voice cuts through the silence.
“shoes.” she says, back already facing you, “you’re leaving snow on my floor.”
you walk in and the relief of not being turned away hits you so fast it almost knocks you off balance when you try to take off your shoes.
natasha pretends not to notice.
instead she grabs a towel from the kitchen and drops it onto the floor where the beer was spilled, kneeling to wipe it up. it gives her something to do with her hands, something to focus on that isn’t you.
when she turns around she sees you sitting at the coffee table. she tries not to let her eyes glance towards you as she heads to the kitchen once more.
she throws the towel into the basin to be washed then reappears with a glass of water in her hand. she sets it down on the table a little harder than necessary. then another, aspirin this time pushed next to the cup.
“drink.” she orders, “all of it.”
you do.
she watches your throat bob, cataloging everything your body does, every sway, every swallow, every rise and fall of your chest, every sign that you’re still here. still breathing and still intact.
she exhales when she convinces herself you’re okay.
“you’re staying.” she mutters and it’s not a question.
you glance up at her, your eyes are glassy, “i… i don’t want to intrude.”
“you already have.” she shoots back coldly, and her chest tighten once again, whether with guilt or anger, she isn’t sure.
you bite down on your bottom lip, you can’t argue because she’s right. you quickly wipe away the tear threatening to slip down your cheek. “i know.” you say, trying to keep your voice from breaking.
natasha nods towards the hallway, she opens her mouth to speak but hesitation catches her tongue, she takes in a breath, “the guest room is the same as you remember.”
and you don’t know why but that finally gets you.
a quiet, broken sound slips out of your chest and your shoulders shake.
natasha freezes.
“i-i’m sorry, nat,” you cry into your hands, “i’m so sorry.”
the apologies spill out of you in a tangled mess of words. you try to calm yourself down but nothing works, all you can do is gasp for air, hiccup, and choke out another apology.
but then natasha slowly, carefully, sits beside you. close enough that her knees brush yours for just a moment.
she doesn’t hold you. but she stays next to you and her presense is somehow enough to steady your breathing.
“i know,” she says quietly.
₊˚ʚ WANDA
wanda stares at the television, mumbling along to the lines of the christmas episode of a sitcom she’s watching. a blanket is wrapped tightly around her, a bucket of popcorn resting in her lap, and a tiny christmas tree sits beside the couch, the lights twinkling softly. her eyes flick to it, comparing it to the huge one now dominating the screen. she scoffs, shaking her head slightly.
then she feels it.
a presence, just outside her door. it’s.. familiar, impossible to ignore. even after two years she recognises your energy instantly.
her blanket slips off her shoulders as if it weighs too much. she stands, legs moving to the door before her mind even catches up to what’s happening.
it was probably unhealthy that she was so willing to see you, that she was walking to the door just to get closer to you. her instincts overpower her thoughts.
she waits. breath held, ears straining to hear a knock, a word, anything.
but all she hears is the faint sound of your giggle, muffled behind the door. and suddenly, the small apartment feels impossibly quiet.
the knock comes a second later. its soft and uneven.
wanda know you were there but she startles anyway.
her hand lifts for the doorknob, but she doesn’t touch it, her hand hovers, her fingers curl slightly as if bracing herself and she hesitates before ultimately twisting the handle.
you’re standing there, swaying gently, cheeks flushed pink from the cold and… wanda’s stomach tightens, the unmistakable smell of alcohol. your eyes are bright in a way that she hadn’t seen in the final few months of your relationship. your clothes are drenched from the snow and the bottle of beer in your hand looks dangerously close to slipping free.
“oh.”
her stomach drops, because it’s clear you didn’t come looking for her, the alcohol brought you here. and she has to bite her lip when she feels that horrible sharp knot form in her throat, worry crawling slowly up her spine.
“hi…” you slur, grinning wide, your eyes are glassy and unfocused.
wanda’s eyes flick to the bottle just as it sloshes, beer spilling over the rim and splattering against the porch. she reacts without thinking. she steps forward, fingers brushing yours as she takes the bottle from your hand. the contact is brief but it sends an ache to her chest. she sets the bottle aside then catches herself before pulling you any closer.
her hands settle on your shoulders instead, careful but firm, holding you steady.
she scans you quickly, scratches, bruises, anything out of place, her gaze is oozing with concern. even in your intoxicated state you can see that and the guilt floods your body. when wanda finds nothing, she exhales a breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding, her grip tightening just slightly.
“you’re–” the word nearly comes out too loud. she wants to say so much, how careless you are, how stupid you are. but she stops herself, lips pressing together as she collects herself, “you shouldn’t be out like this,” she says instead, softer but still edged with a firmness, “it’s late.”
“i… i know,” you mumble, your body relaxing instinctively under her touch.
wanda notices.
she doesn’t let herself comment on it. she just tightens her grip and steadies you as she pushes that action out of her memory.
“why are you here ?” she asks quietly.
her voice softens despite herself, despite the way her chest aches with the knowledge that you probably won’t remember this in the morning.
you frown, brow furrowing as you try to think, truly, actually, find an answer for her.
“i don’t…” your voice trails off, frustration brims in your eyes, “i don’t know.”
the words land heavier than anything else you could’ve said.
wanda exhales slowly, forcing herself not to let your answer sink too deep. she knows you’re not thinking clearly – not like this. she can’t afford to let her emotions control her actions when her priority is making sure that you’re safe.
she turns and nudges the door open, one hand still on your shoulder. it slips, almost unconsciously to the small of your back as she guides you inside. wanda glances at the way your shoes are leaving damp marks on her floor but she doesn't comment, she closes the door behind you, locks it, then continues leading you to the couch where she was just watching her sitcom.
“stay here.” she says quickly, already turning away.
you do.
your gaze drifts around the room, taking in details you remember and ones you don’t. eventually your eyes settle on the blanket beside you. you hesitate, fingers hovering for a second, like you’re not sure if you're allowed, then you pull it around yourself.
wanda’s scent hits you immediately.
it makes your chest ache.
you clutch the blanket closer, curling on yourself, shoulders rounding as the guilt settles heavy in your stomach. you shouldn’t be here. not like this. not because you couldn’t keep yourself together for one fucking night.
and that's when the truth also hits you.
you’ve missed wanda so much.
you’ve missed wanda for so long and this feels like the worst possible way for it to manifest into reality.
when wanda reappears you quickly wipe away the tear threatening to slip down your cheeks, her eyes flick to the way you’ve folded yourself into the couch. she raises an eyebrow but says nothing, she brushes it off as another side effect of the alcohol.
“you need to hydrate yourself,” she hands you a glass. “drink.”
you take it, fingers unsteady and down the cup. she watches silently as your shoulders relax with each swallow. when you finish, she takes the glass from you and sets it down.
“you’re staying here tonight,” she manages after a beat, “you’re too drunk to go home on your own.”
your head lifts, surprise flickering across your face. you hesitate, guild tightening your throat, like if you speak too loudly the offer might disappear. “are you sure ?” you ask.
wanda doesn’t say anything. she just helps you to your feet.
she keeps a careful distance as she leads you down the hallway. far enough to give you space but close enough so she can catch you if you stumble. you sway once and she reaches out instinctively, already ready to catch you despite the way you regain your balance on your own.
she presses her lips together.
she pushes the guest room door open, it’s neat and untouched. wanda pulls back the covers and gestures to the bed. then she steps toward you again, eyes adverted as she gently takes your jacket, folding it away to put in the closet.
when she turns back you’re already sitting on the bed. wanda sets a glass of water on the nightstand, “drink some more if you wake up,” she nods to the glass, “and if you feel sick, you know where to find the bathroom.” her throat tightens at the last few words.
“w-wanda.” your voice cracks with something more than just the alcohol, “can you stay ?”
everything is too much. the memories, being here, the warmth of her apartment, the smell of her. the way she’s still taking care of you despite everything. it all presses in at once and you hate yourself for wanting more, for asking for more.
wanda shakes her head gently, a strained smile pulling at her lips, “you’re drunk,” she says, even as her chest aches at the sound of your voice. she knows you don’t mean anything by it. she knows that.
her feet carry her to the doorway before she can second guess herself.
“we can talk in the morning,” she offers, her hand resting lightly against the frame, “for now, get some rest.”
you nod, swallowing hard. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else, not when wanda’s already given you more kindness than you deserve.
the light clicks off.
“goodnight.” wanda murmurs, the words are heavy on her tongue.
the door closes most of the way, left barely open, a thin strip of hallway light spills across the floor.
before you can stop them, tears slip down your cheeks, hot and quiet. a choke claws its way out of your chest before you can swallow it back. you quickly cover your mouth with your hands as you sob.
wanda freezes, she stands just outside the door. her hand hovers near the handle but she tells herself not to listen. tells herself it’s the alcohol, that you won’t even remember this tomorrow, that staying will only blur the lines she worked so hard to draw.
still… she doesn’t move.
and your muffled sob reaches her anyway.
her chest tightens painfully and for a second she imagines turning back, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you cry into her shoulder like you used to. letting her be the comfort you always reached for.
she exhales, shaky and silent.
staying would be easier. that’s what scares her.
so she steps away despite the distance immediately feeling wrong, like she’s tearing something open again instead of letting it heal. and she forces herself down the hallway.
when she reaches the living toom, the sitcom is still playing, the laugh track bright.
she sinks onto the couch, blanket still scrunched up in the corner where you felt it.
wanda doesn’t look at the screen.
her eyes stay fixed on the dark hallway, on the thin line of light beneath the guest room door.
and she doesn’t watch the show.
₊˚ʚ AGATHA
an unsteady knock rattles agatha’s door and she sighs, already irritated. she’s always hated the holidays.
“if it’s more of those fucking carolers…” she mutters as she stalks towards her door. she grips the handle roughly and yanks open her door.
just as she was about to say some connotation of ‘fuck you,’ her eyes land on you… not carollers…
and she freezes.
her brow lifts as she takes you in, your unsteady stance, flushed cheeks, the bottle dangling loosely from your fingers like you’ve already forgotten it’s there.
she doesn’t bother hiding her expression.
a smirk curves her lips.
“let me guess,” agatha drawls, leaning against her doorframe, “christmas spirit kicked your ass a little too hard ?” she frames it like a question but there's no doubt it in.
you blink at her, slow and unfocused. not quite processing her words yet, for a moment you just stare, like you didn’t quite believe what you had just done, that agatha was really and truly standing in front of you.
then you laugh. it’s too loud and too high pitched. it echoes awkwardly down the porch.
“hi aggie…” you slur.
agatha’s jaw tightens instantly.
“don’t fucking do that,” she snaps, reaching her arm out to pluck the bottle from your hand before you can protest, “you know i hate it.”
agatha takes a quick swig from the bottle because god knows she needs it then glances at it once, unimpressed before hurling it towards the pavement beside her neighbour’s house. it shatters loudly.
“enough of that.”
her gaze zeroes in on you again and this time she looks, really looks. you’re swaying, barely holding yourself together, feet stumbling like you could fall any moment. cheeks redder than the fucking decorations adorning her neighbourhood.
“how much did you drink.” agatha asks you, head tilting.
“i-i don’t know.” you shrug weakly, guilt flashes across your face for half a second before you try to mask it with another smile. “i didn’t plan on it…” you mumble, “just- ended up here.”
that earns you a short, humourless laugh. she shakes her head, “of course you did.’
“you know,” her expression doesn’t change but something behind her eyes does, something in her chest aches, makes her want to violently throw up, “it’s funny how you only ever show up when you’re falling apart.”
and that makes you sober up faster than anything could, you swallow hard, a tight knot forming in your throat, you choke out, “i- i wasn’t trying to bother you ag-”
agatha cuts you off sharply, “you succeeded anyway, didn’t you ?”
silence stretches between the both of you, it’s heavy and cold. you shift on your feet, swaying slightly, your fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm. you can’t believe you thought this was a good idea.
then agatha straightens.
“you’re not coming in,” she says firmly, “not like this.”
something sinks in your stomach even though you expected this answer.
“yeah… i know,” you murmur.
and the way you accept it so easily hurts worse than if you argued.
agatha exhales slowly, like she’s trying to force every instinct she has down into something manageable. “you need to go home,” she says, “or call a cab.”
“i just-” you ignore her words and you explanation spills out before you can stop it, “i didn’t want to be alone.”
the confession spills out of your chest raw and heavy, like it’s been clawing at your ribs all night. saying it out loud lifts something off your chest and replaces it with shame once you realise the mistake you’re making.
for a moment, agatha almost reaches for you. almost.
“you don’t get to use me like that.” agatha says quietly, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
your eyes shine. you nod, “i-i know i’m sorry.” the apology is barely audible.
“okay.” agatha scoffs.
she steps back then, not to let you in but to reach for her phone resting on the other side of the door. she pulls it out and a few sharp taps later, books you a cab. she considers, briefly, about how ridiculous it is that she’s about to spend $35 to send her ex back home and almost thinks about asking you for payment up front but it feels like a dick move so she doesn’t.
“i called you a cab,” agatha says.
she doesn’t add anything else. she just stays there with you, standing in the awkward silence she pretends she didn’t choose,
you know she won’t say it outright, but you know she’s waiting with you until the cab arrives. you offer her a small grateful smile.
she turns away.
when the cab finally pulls up, you hesitate at the edge of the porch.
“merry christmas, agatha,” you whisper.
she doesn’t respond.
she waits until the car pulls away, until it fades into a distant blur of lights and the car is a tiny dot on the road, until your presence finally slips from her sense.
only then does she close the door.
₊˚ʚ RIO
rio is halfway through rinsing her mug when the knock comes.
“coming !” she yells from the kitchen, she dries her hands as she makes her way to the door.
then she hears it, the sound of your murmurs and her fingers still, hovering right above the handle. something in her chest pulls tight but she opens the door anyway.
the cold rushes in first but then the sight of you swaying, cheeks flushed from the night air greets her. the smell of alcohol reaches her immediately and her heart sinks with it.
“oh.” she breathes before she can stop herself.
you blink at her, like you’re surprised that she’s real. then giggles spill out of your mouth because what the fuck were you doing at her doorstep.
rio steps back without even thinking, giving you space even as instinct tells her to reach out and make sure you’re okay.
“you’re drunk.” she says gently, not accusing but rather stating a fact.
you nod, “i just..” giggles escape your lips but they slowly die down as you try to think about why you’re here, but nothing comes to mind other than the fact you wanted rio next to you, so you say what you can, “i just… kept walking.”
and despite what just felt like a stab to her chest, rio isn’t surprised by your words in the slightest.
the guilt hangs in your stomach when you see her expression, you look down at your shoes, damp with melted snow, “i-i don’t mean to be a burden, i’m sorry, rio. i’ll leave-”
and just as you turn around to leave, rio catches your arm and you see that she’s opened the door of her home wider.
“come inside.” she mutters, “it’s cold.”
you look down at her grasp on your arm and she quickly retracts it. you pretend it doesn’t hurt and you step forward, hesitating on the threshold of her house, like you;re waiting for rio to change her mind. but you knew she wouldn’t, she was always just that kind. you step in and it’s careful and quiet, as if trying not to take up too much space.
rio closes the door behind you and locks it, she doesn’t know why but she flinches at the sound and immediately regrets it, it was too final, too loud. she glances at you to make sure it didn’t startle you but you look completely unaffected.
“go sit at the couch.” she says, gesturing towards it.
you obey, folding into yourself as soon as you;re seated. your hands twist together in your lap. knuckles white, like you’re bracing for something to happen.
rio moves around the room slowlym she pours you a glass of water and sets it on the table in front of you instead of handing it directly to you.
“drink,” she says, “small sips.”
you do, eyes fixed on the glass like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the room. you didn’t want to look at rio, to see what you’ve caused to her.
rio meanwhile, watches you quietly, making sure you don’t choke, making sure your breathing evens out. and when you finish, she takes the glass and refills it without asking.
“did something happen ?” she breaks the silence.
you open your mouth to answer, then close it. Your shoulders slump, “i don’t know…” you mutter, “i just… felt bad.”
the guilt sits heavy between the both of you, it’s thick and sickeningly familiar. rio nods once.
“you can stay,” she says after a moment, “just for tonight. you shouldn’t be alone in this… state.”
your head lifts, eyes wide and wet. “you’re sure ?”
and even before rio answers you already know what she’ll say,
she offers you a small, sad smile that strains against her lips, “i wouldn’t have said it if i wasn’t.”
she helps you up from the couch, keeping a distance from you as she guides you down the hall. when you reach the guest room, she pulls back the covers of the bed and steps aside so you can sit.
rio places the glass of water as well as a bottle of painkillers next to the bed. “if you need something for the hangover in the morning,” she says quietly, “you can call out if you need anything.”
your fingers curl into the blanket, “rio,’ you asks, “can you… can you stay ? just until i fall asleep.”
her breath catches.
she knows she shouldn’t but she considers leaving you alone in this state. so she slowly nods her head.
“i’ll sit right here. okay ?” she makes her way to the window, dragging a chair from the dresser with her.
your shoulders relax, just a little. “okay.”
rio settles on the chair next to the window. she listens as your breathing slowly evens out, each inhale steadier than the last and when she’s sure you’re asleep, she stays anyway.
she looks out the window, the christmas lights reflecting in her tired eyes.
she brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.
rio doesn’t sleep.
— a/n : i'm sorry agathario's parts were shorter 🥹🥹 it's bc im more used to writing for wandanat and usually when i write agathario it's not x reader... sigh. (also i’m really tired and sleepy) i was originally gonna add carol too but i got a little demotivated 😞 neways sorry for the late christmas fic and i hope you guys liked the angst, sorry to all the freaky ppl, no christmas sex here :3
synopsis: Jinx comes back to the hideout after a rough day, and despite her wrath displayed just hours earlier, she needs a shoulder to lean on.
tags: vulnerable!jinx, fluff, no au, angst with comfort, mentions of Vi, self depreciating!jinx, cuddling, wounds and violence mentioned, taking care of your emotionally unstable gf. ab 0.4k wc.
a/n: this is short but I had a vision and I was sleepy so this will have to do. I might revisit this idea later on with a clearer plan and write smth longer but who knows. Enjoy!
You were sprawled out in a tangled pile of blankets, shirt ridden up, hair mussed, the like.
You’d had a long day. You’d run some errands, gotten your hands on some cogs, ended up in a minor fist fight, then dragged your sorry ass back to the hideout bruised and exhausted.
Jinx wasn’t there. She could be absolutely anywhere in the lanes, heck, even in Piltover, so there was no point in searching for her.
You’d beelined for the small cubby that was intended to be some form of a sleeping arrangement and passed out.
Now, consciousness clawed at you, your jaw aching. A familiar raspy voice echoed throughout the hideout, tugging you from your sleep.
“Toots? You in here?” A familiar voice rasped out, sounding much more exhausted than usual, which was worrying. You sat up with a quiet curse and untangled yourself from the blankets, pulling back the hanging fabric and stumbling out groggily.
You saw Jinx walking along one of the propeller blades, arms wrapped around her torso. She was streaked with soot and blood, looking worn out, bottom lip jutted out.
She perked up when she saw you, hurrying over and wrapping herself around you.
“Hey.” She croaked quietly.
“Hi baby, what.. what the fuck happened? Are you hurt?”’
“Not hurt. Just.. missed you. There was an attack at the shipment today, went a tad south. We kicked their asses though. What about you, toots? Lookin’ a little worse for wear there.”
“Another one? Jeez, they’re getting braver. And I’m fine, just ran into some bums that wanted trouble. No real harm done. Sit down for me, I’ll clean you up.”
“You don’t gotta do that, I’m fine-“
“Let me help.”
She sighed and walked over to the small cubby where you’d been sleeping minutes prior, flopping down dramatically.
You pulled a small medkit from under her workbench and tailed her, sitting down cross legged next to her, grabbing a somewhat-clean rag and cupping her jaw with one hand while rubbing away the blood crusted to her face.
She let her eyes flutter shut, nuzzling into your hand affectionately.
“Needed this.” She murmured quietly. “Thanks, toots. I owe ya’.”
“No sweat. I’ve always got you.” You replied, adhering a small patch of gauze to a nick by her eyebrow before pulling back.
Her eyes fluttered open again, dropping to watch your hands, purple irises glinting in the low light.
“I thought I saw her today.” She said roughly, her voice different, stripped thin with emotion. “She left me that day, I shouldn’t- ..I shouldn’t care. But I do. I hesitated and nearly killed half of Silco’s crew.”
“..Who’s ‘her’?”
“My sister.” She muttered, turning her head away from you.
“Oh, jinx.” You sighed, cupping her face with both palms, meeting her eyes with an empathetic gaze. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s not fair.”
She melted into you, arms wrapping around your waist, head pressing into your chest. You held one hand against the back of her head, the other one between her shoulder blades.
She was laid on top of you now, wrapped around you. She twisted her head, pressing her ear to your chest, listening to your heart beating steadily under your ribs, steadying her.
“I don’t mean to drown you with this sappy bullshit, but you just.. you just get me like this.”
“You’re allowed to be sappy, darling. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, yeah. You always say that.” She muttered.
“Because I mean it.” You replied softly. She lifted her head to look at you, really look at you.
“You really do, don’tcha? I don’t deserve you. You should go find someone better. Somebody that.. I dunno, treats you better, isn’t a complete mess.”
“I don’t want better. I want you.”
“F’course you do.” She sighed fondly, pressing her head back down against your chest, arms tightening around you.
content: this is femlock and sapphic / wlw. masc lesbian reo x female reader.
the night air feels almost icy when you step outside, a sharp contrast from the warm, thick stillness of the event hall that you'd just escaped.
reo walks out of the hall with you. her lavender eyes low and lidded as they observe you, your shoulders rising a little with the shiver that courses up your limbs.
the exposed swathes of your skin glow in the golden lights outside the building, revealed elegantly from between the slits in your clothes, so lovely against the darkness of the late night around you--so lovely, she almost reaches out to touch you.
reo craves your touch like nothing else, really. she loves you. has loved you for the longest time. it's just that you seem to be having a bit of trouble noticing it, and more so when it comes to loving her back.
as reo takes off her suit jacket and gently wraps it around your shoulders for you, you lean back into her warmth and sigh. the exhale of air is tense with irritation, and as you turn your head away, reo catches a glimpse of your face--your pretty, pretty face laced with frustration and hurt.
“hey now,” she says lightly, voice soft. placing a hand over your shoulder, mildly annoyed that her own jacket on your back separates her fingers from your skin. “what's got you upset enough that you wanna leave so early ‘n go home?”
“i got stood up, dumbass.” you scoff. “didn't you see me sitting there alone, without a date or anyone with me?”
she had seen you. she watched you looking around anxiously all night, watched you shrink further into your seat with each half hour that passed, and she’d wanted so badly, to go and take the empty seat next to you. she’d watched you as you watched the couples on the dance floor, bodies pressed together as they twirled around hand-in-hand to the lax beat of the slow songs on loop.
she had wanted to take your hand and lead you to the center. had almost gotten up to go do it.
put her arm around your waist, pull your chest against hers, have your chin rest on her shoulder as she leads you into the rhythm, smelling your hair and your perfume as she breathes in. she'd close her eyes, melt into the moment. enjoy the feel of you in her arms for a few minutes, before letting you go. and then spend the rest of the night pretending she didn't want to pull you back in and kiss you senseless for good.
it hurts, but not as bad as it used to. so reo clears her throat and opens her mouth to tease rather than to confess. “aw, such a shame. maybe that's what happens when you decide you're coming here in my car, you know? should've gotten him to pick you up.”
“who wouldn't pass up the chance to pull up to a grand party in your car?” you laugh, and though it's a humourless laugh, it eases reo's heart a little anyway.
but your next words tighten it right back, as you nudge yourself out from under her arm and take a few steps forward, beginning to pace as you talk. “you. tall, sexy and rich. pretty eyes, pretty car, a gun at your hip and a rose in your pocket. you're the real deal, y’know?”
reo knows. being the upcoming CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate did make her the real deal. the stuff of manhwas and romance dramas, she was real--an untouchable money maker full of allure, with a sleazy smile and her heart on her sleeve.
and it's a shame that it seemed to be all that you wanted her for. people often joke about how she could have as many trophy girlfriends or wives as she pleased. you're stunning! you're rich! you're such a smooth talker! you could get anything you want, mikage.
but in reality, she is the trophy girlfriend. to you--if one could even call it that. and she doesn't mind.
because oh, reo loves you. she loves you like nothing else, almost pathetically so, and as long as you want her around, she doesn’t mind. she can take it.
as long as she can be here for you, as long as she can comfort you and protect you, and listen to your angry ranting and wrap her suit jacket around you when you're cold. as long as she can drive you home, and pick you up the next afternoon and hand you your favourite flowers and your favourite chocolate before asking you which city you'd like to have lunch at, and where. as long as you'll keep turning around and giving her that look, brows furrowed and lips twisted so cutely in reprimand whenever her voice softens a little too much with the taste of your name on her tongue.
“alright.” there's a full minute of silence between you both before reo answers belatedly, realizing that you had paused your talking, waiting for her to respond with something silly or some smart quip back.
that’s how she usually helps you shake it off--but tonight, with how she's longed for you the whole time and how upset you seem to be over someone that isn’t her, she doesn't have the energy for it. so she says it again, a fraction of her hurt leaking into the crack of her voice. “alright.”
“hey,” the heel of your shoes clack against the marble steps as you forcefully turn towards her. “don't you act hurt right now.”
“yeah? and why the fuck not?” the snap is out of reo’s mouth before she can hold back--and she feels the blood drain from her face instantly. “i’m sorry, angel. didn't mean t--”
“and don't,” you hiss, pretty features hardening and eyes going cold as you meet her gaze. “fucking call me angel. or anything, actually! i hate it.” the weight of your words hit her way harder than your fist that lands on her chest, a dull knock at her sternum that forces her to take a step back.
you hate it? it's one of the only things reo has. teasing, sickly-sweet petnames that she can call you and pretend she's just doing it for fun when she means every word.
“i hate you.” you spit, then.
“w--what?” reo stutters, feeling panicked upon seeing that your eyes are filled with angry tears, glittering white-gold in the lights overhead. “stop that--” she catches herself before she can call you love, and hesitates to reach out and bring you in for a hug. “stop it. what’s going on with you?”
she wonders if you maybe had too much to drink. she had admittedly let you pour a few more shots than you usually get, because she thought it might help you loosen up. that has clearly backfired on her now.
“i’m sorry.” you whisper then, posture slumping. walking back into reo’s warmth, you rest your forehead against her collarbone. “i’m just really upset. i don’t understand why i’m so impossible to love. not even love, actually. why does no one want to get to know me?”
reo doesn’t know what to say, because she can’t tell you that every drop of blood in her body sings your name. the wind picks up a little, and her eyes sting with the cold. just the cold.
“reo,” she feels your brows move, knows you’re frowning down in the direction of her shoes. your fist still held against her chest, and she worries that you might feel her accelerating heartbeat and question it.
the night is quickly getting colder, and she can see you're shivering again despite her jacket wrapped around you. she wants to take you to her car, but she's not really sure you'd want a ride from her anymore. “reo.” you repeat, and she's compelled to answer. “i'm here.” instead of what is it, angel?
the restriction was so new, yet reo already felt tired of its ache.
your fist relaxes for a second, but only to grab at her vest and pull the fabric into a fist again. “if we turn, like, thirty five years old and find ourselves still single, can we marry each other?"
what?
reo wants to laugh. she looks down at your hand as you clench your fingers tighter around her vest, wrinkling it in your grip. she looks at your empty ring finger, and thinks--darling, i could marry you right now. i love you.
she laughs a little at the absurdity of it before she answers. “sure. now let’s get you home.”
