Goosebumps covered your skin as you stared up at the sunrise, back flat against the wooden deck outside, legs dangling just a few feet above the extent of Lake Mohawk.

It was quiet outside, aside from the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves, and you must’ve been in that exact same position for the better part of an hour. At some point during the night, the way Lottie cleared her throat and let out a contained cough in her alleged sleep made you suspicious that all the tossing and turning you’d been doing must’ve been keeping her awake. So, courteously, you’d quietly stepped out of the bedroom on your tiptoes, carrying the soft blanket Taissa had laid out for you, not bothering to change out of your pajamas.

The blanket stood crumpled under your head as a sort of makeshift pillow you’d managed to assemble, which wasn’t very ergonomic, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t in the headspace to worry about the faint burn on your spine, not when you’d been up all night with your thoughts completely elsewhere. Sleep deprived, in a completely different environment than you were used to and coming out of a mimosa-induced drunken state, they drifted between three main topics:

One, Natalie had been struggling with a drug problem, and it had gotten so bad that she had to be institutionalized to deal with it. Twice.

Two, she’d been arrested. Apparently, also more than once. You didn’t know why, but you could only assume it’d had something to do with the reason why she had to be taken to rehab. Which, you remembered again, had happened twice.

And three, the grin on her lips when she’d high fived you after getting that first answer right. The way she’d stepped up to take the arm of the chair, giving you the most comfortable seat without your having to ask. The way her voice sounded just the same it used to when she said your name, when she called on you with that smirk on her mouth, waving her hands in front of your face. And, of course, that God forsaken glow in her eyes when she told you the two of you made a good team.

What really got to you, you concluded after pondering exhaustively on it for hours on end, was how attainable she’d managed to feel for just a moment, despite the sheer amount of alcohol you’d seen her consume throughout the night, just to become a complete mystery again. Even with the beer, even with the smokes, you saw her, you heard her, you even touched her for a second — Natalie, your Nat, still hiding somewhere in there beneath those dark circles under her eyes and that chocolate colored hair. Joking around, teasing Van, making conversation with you. She was there, you saw her, she was there.

But, if the old Nat still existed to an extent, where had everything gone wrong?

Why had she felt the need to try cocaine, in the first place? When had that happened? Who had she been with? Had she been thinking about you at all, wanting to reach out, not knowing how to?

Why had she vanished like that after seeing your face when you first arrived?

You thought back to high school, to all the times she’d cut class to smoke cigarettes and drink cheap vodka behind the bleachers, to the occasional joint she’d pass around during Randy’s parties. Should that alone have been a sign? Should you have kept your eyes open?

You sighed. Lottie had a cigarette phase, too. Van used to hang around smoking other people’s weed at almost every function you could think of. Even Jackie would be caught with a blunt between her fingers, smiling easily and pulling Shauna closer under the guise of being young and just wanting to have some fun.

With Nat, something had happened. Something definitely had to happen to make her fall off the wagon like that, because you’d all dabbled, you’d all gone through it. But none of you had an actual problem.

What had been her breaking point?

You closed your eyes tightly and pressed the heels of your hands against your eyelids as your head started to hurt from all the worrying, from all the thinking, from the lack of sleep. The rush of thoughts drifting through your brain had gotten so intense you barely even registered it when footsteps sounded out on the deck, and somebody’s weight made the wooden boards creak beside your waist.

“You’re up early,” Taissa’s voice made you pull your hands away from your face, which caused you to see the cup of something hot and steamy she held out in your direction whilst bearing one of her own in her opposite hand, “Lottie’s snoring give you any trouble?”

Though you were grateful for the gesture, you didn’t reach for the mug. Tai simply placed it beside you, not mentioning the fact.

You stared up at the orange clouds in the sky, taking a deep breath, letting your arms rest along your sides.

“She went to rehab.” You finally spoke, voice hoarse and rough from having been quiet for so long. “She was fucking arrested, Tai.” A quiet, disbelieving scoff left your lips. “You should’ve said something.”

As if having rehearsed that same conversation in her mind a hundred times, Taissa didn’t even flinch. She simply nodded, eyes now focused on the spot where the sun started to shine over Lake Mohawk, a serious expression on her face.

“Let me guess. Jackie ran her mouth.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Of course it was fucking Jackie.”

You rolled your eyes, impatient, finally sitting up.

“It doesn’t matter where I heard it, or who I heard it from,” you rasped, offended that had even been something she’d thought to question, “what matters is that all of that has been going on and apparently I’m the only one who’s been kept in the fucking dark.”

She stayed silent.

You looked over at her, the hurt evident all over your features.

“All the times we’ve seen each other over the past few years,” you continued, “all the fucking group chats and— and holiday celebrations, and you didn’t think to tell me once? To pick up your phone and give me a fucking call?”

Taissa’s eyes drifted down to her own crossed legs.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” She muttered, her dark curls pulled up in a messy ponytail, swinging in the wind in sync with the trees in the background. “She didn’t want you to know, Y/N.”

You swallowed.

What were you supposed to say to that?

After a moment of silence, filled only by the motion of your mouth opening, closing, then opening again, you finally managed to speak:

“Fuck that, Tai.” You scoffed again, feeling your heart pounding in your chest at the reminder that Natalie had been the one to choose to keep that a secret from you in the first place. “You’re my friend. You used to be my best fucking friend. I don’t give a shit what Natalie wanted me to know, you should have told me.”

Taissa looked directly at your face this time, serious, sensing your distress.

“I wanted to. So many times, I wanted to.” She sighed, and, for the first time since you arrived at her family’s lake house the day before, her words felt completely genuine. “The first time I heard about it, I— I was gonna text you, I was, but… shit, man. Van practically begged me not to. Nat was embarrassed. She is embarrassed. And you know she’s always held you to a different standard than everybody else, she cares about your opinion.”

“Fuck that, Tai.” You repeated, firmer this time. “I could give two shits about all that. Sure, we ended things on a shitty note, say, a million years ago. But rehab? A criminal record? This trumps all of that.” A fatigued breath left your mouth as you stared into the distance again. “I had a right to know.”

Tai chewed on the inside of her cheek, drifting her eyes away from you yet once again. She stayed silent for just a moment, before letting her own mug rest beside her body on the deck.

“You did.” She muttered. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, I just— Nat made Van make me promise not to. I just… got caught up in the middle of all that shit. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You didn’t answer, not at first.

Instead, you let your gaze slide across the horizon, taking in the few birds that flew around the premises and the way the leaves started to appear greener as the sun rose further up in the sky. You were starting to get dizzy with exhaustion, and that only made the turmoil in your head even more unbearable.

Still, you needed your answers. And Taissa seemed like the closest thing you had to them at the moment.

So you took a deep breath.

“Just… tell me everything.” You demanded, your voice softening not on account of acceptance, but of tiredness. “I know now anyway, right? Might as well fill me in on the details.”

Tai nodded weakly, resignedly. You finally gave in and picked up the cup of coffee she’d placed next to you, giving it a light sip.

“I don’t really know how it started,” she began, eyes landing on your face again, conveying a newfound seriousness, “but she got arrested for the first time about a year and a half ago for possession outside of a bar. Add underage drinking to that, the guys at the station were pissed.”

You frowned.

“The guys at the station?” You asked, confused. “How do you know about the…”

And realization dawned upon you. You nodded once, firm.

“Your mom worked her magic.”

“My mom worked her magic.” Tai repeated. You knew her mom was an influential prosecutor back in Wiskayok, neck deep in a network of mutual favors, knowing just what buttons to press and which people to call. “As soon as word got out, I begged her to speak to the sheriff, and they let Nat off without a record as long as she got help with her addiction. That’s when she went to rehab for the first time.”

“But it didn’t work, right?” You intervened. “She went to rehab twice.”

Tai sighed, nodding with resignation.

“Around seven or eight months ago,” she took a sip of her own coffee, “she was caught dealing to some kids behind the bleachers at Wiskayok High. Nothing too… extensive, just a baggy, which helped her case. My mom got into it again. Said they couldn’t charge her for dealing, not with how little she had on her. Still, they were pissed. It was enough not to get her to serve time, but they didn’t let her off without a record that time. At least it was just for possession, so… there’s that.”

You closed your eyes. The soft breeze hit your face, making your skin ache with the cold.

“Shit.”

Tai nodded.

“Yeah. Nat’s mom told Van’s mom and…” She let out a weak breath. “Van got worried. Nat was just… isolating herself, y’know? Apparently she’d stay out for days on end, no one knew where she went, she’d come back all bruised up and thinner… she was deep into it.”

You swallowed. At that point, all the previous exhaustion had morphed into a sheer effort not to cry.

“So Van took, like, a month off from film school and drove back to Wiskayok to try and force some kind of proximity to Nat again.” Taissa looked to the side for a moment, a warm expression crossing her eyes as she said her girlfriend’s name. “It was… hard, at first. Nat really didn’t wanna be helped. But Van insisted. She stayed close, she made herself present. And, somehow, she managed to get Nat to go to rehab again. Willingly, this time.”

With tear filled eyes, you asked:

“But how did she…” You gulped. “Rehab’s expensive, right?”

“We did have to… bend the truth a little.” She answered. “Van talked to Nat’s mom, who made up this lie about coming into some pension from the government from her father’s passing. But I paid for it. Of course, my folks can never dream that I took that much money out of my trust fund, but…” Tai shook her head. “It’s Nat. And she wanted to get better.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as a stubborn tear rolled down your cheek, despite your efforts to hold it in. Without a word, your hand inched closer to Tai’s, fingers wrapping around her palm in silence.

“She’s loved.” She continued. “We… we didn’t tell you, she vocally didn’t want us to, but… we held out our end. We never left her alone. She’s really, really loved. And we made sure she knew it, Van— Van made sure she knew it.”

The tears started flowing more freely now, a mixture of pain for Nat’s fate and the utmost gratitude for the fact that your friends had served as her support system at a time when you hadn't been around.

“And now…” You managed to murmur through the tears. “And now she’s clean?”

Tai nodded.

“Four months sober.” She said, a small, proud smile ghosting over her lips. “For coke, I mean.”

Your red rimmed eyes landed on your friend’s face, understanding the nuance behind her line.

“The drinking.” You mentioned amidst a quiet sniffle. “She’s been drinking a lot, hasn’t she?”

Taissa offered you a weak nod.

“We’re worried she’s gonna fall off again.” She confirmed. “It’s the whole reason why we even put this whole weekend together, anyway. Van says the drinking, it— it helps her cope, but it could also be a way of making it harder for her to stay off… you know. Other things.”

Your heart seemed to break inside of your chest. So, all this time, this entire weekend had been just an excuse to try and save Natalie from herself?

As if reading your mind, Tai continued:

“We orchestrated everything, we just— we wanted her to remember she had this. Friends other than Van, a group of people who care about her and want her around, even with all the shit.” She trailed off, looking down at her coffee mug. “And you… well, you’re kind of our Hail Mary.”

You widened your wet eyes, raised your furrowed brows.

“Your Hail Mary?”

Taissa nodded again.

“You were her favorite. Let’s face it, Y/N. Even before all of this, Nat’s just never really had a very easy life to begin with. I mean, all the shit with her dad, it… it stayed with her.” She said. “But, for some reason, around you… she just lit up. She smiled more brightly, she— she laughed more genuinely. You made her happy in a way none of us ever could.”

“That was a hundred years ago.” You came forward. “That— I hurt her, Tai, I said things I shouldn’t have and…”

“Van said she talks about you sometimes.” Taissa’s fingers tightened around your own. “Good things. Not necessarily, you know, I want her back stuff, but… she just talks about you in a fond way. Like she still cares. Like she still likes you.”

Your chin tightened, and you felt the tears start to rush again.

Tai’s thumb stroked the back of your hand gently.

“Stop torturing yourself thinking you did anything wrong.” Her tone was softer now, calmer. “You didn’t. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known. You were a kid in love, not some savior who failed. That burden’s not yours to carry.”

Among the tears, you let out a wet laugh — a hint of relief in the middle of all the hurt.

“She talks about me?” You asked, still disbelieving. “Really?”

Tai laughed, too.

“According to Van, it’s happened a few times now.” Her expression was infinitely easier now, and you managed to find a small source of solace in it, even with the severity of the situation. “So just… now you know. You don’t have to… get into that weird situationship thing with her again. We were just hoping you guys would talk. Not about drugs, not about rehab, just about… anything else. Whatever it is that you two talk about. And that maybe you’d work a little bit of your magic on her, too.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod and put your coffee aside, leaning forward to sink into Taissa’s arms without warning.

“Fuck,” you muttered, still completely moved by every part of the story you’d just heard, “yeah. Yeah, I’ll try. Of course I will. Thanks, Tai. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets.” She repeated.

A calm, charged, hopeful silence installed itself upon you as you both stayed like that, arms wrapped around one another, watching the sunrise behind teary eyes. Tai was the one to speak first:

“Now go get some sleep.” She muttered. “I doubt anyone will be up for hours, anyway. And you clearly need it.”

Hours later, you strolled down the hallway as you left the bedroom you shared with Lottie, finding almost everyone in the living room, except for Natalie.

“I’m gonna die.” Jackie whined, head heavy against Shauna’s shoulder as they both sat on the couch, the brunette’s hand gently petting her hair. “Whose brilliant idea was it to have that many mimosas on the first night?”

Shauna chuckled.

“Yours, Jax.” She huffed, soft, casual. “You kept refilling everybody’s glasses like the world was about to end.”

Jackie sighed impatiently.

“You know you’re supposed to stop me when I get like that!”

“You say it like it’s easy.” Shauna retorted, her free hand moving up to rest flat against her own stomach. “But, yeah. Maybe I should’ve tried harder. Certainly would’ve done me some good.”

You stood quietly against the doorframe, somewhere between the hallway and the living room, a quiet smile ghosting over your lips as your eyes wandered through the house in search for the one person you wanted to see the most.

“It would’ve done all of us some good.” Laura Lee chimed in, lifting a cup of coffee up to her lips. “Especially Nat. She’s still blacked out upstairs, I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.”

At the mention of Natalie’s name, something seemed to crack upon Van’s demeanor, and she stood up from her place at the breakfast table abruptly.

“You guys are depressing.” She claimed dramatically. “And you all sound like my grandma. It’s nice out. And you’re all crumpled up in here complaining about a hangover like a bunch of old ladies.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow, lifting her head from Shauna’s shoulder for just a second in order to look at the redhead.

“And what do you suggest we do, Sportacus?”

“I think we should go for a swim.” Van shrugged. “Maybe that will wipe off the dead look from all of your faces.”

Somehow, Van’s convincing powers managed to get everybody out at the lake sooner than you deemed possible. You were desperately tempted to hang back, to just sit on the couch and wait until Natalie inevitably surfaced so you’d be alone together again, but you were worried you’d seem too obvious, and you didn’t want to scare her off. So, reluctantly, you changed into a bikini — even though you had no intention of actually diving into Lake Mohawk —, and sat at a stretcher outside, feeling the water splash onto your skin as Van jumped from the deck with a shout of “CANNONBALL!”, letting the sunrays touch your face and work their best to soothe the worries that ghosted over your head.

And there you stayed for minutes that felt more like hours, telling your friends you’d just rather sit outside while, one by one, everybody else gave in and dived into the lake.

At some point, you heard the sound of the front door of the house sliding through its trails, followed by the constant noise of beat up All Stars stepping against fresh grass. You quickly opened your eyes, seemingly the only one alert enough to notice Nat’s silhouette disappearing behind some trees, a pack of cigarettes tucked faithfully in her hand.

Without a word, figuring you could probably go by unnoticed as everyone distracted themselves with splashing around in the water, you got up and put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt over your swimwear. You didn’t have a plan, but you didn’t feel like you needed one. You just walked away toward where you’d seen the back of Nat’s head vanish into, keeping a safe distance, taking your time.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where she was headed once you noticed how her footsteps stained a well crafted, handmade dirt trail on the floor, and you remembered Tai’s mention of a creek just a few miles away from the house. It must’ve been where she went to smoke with Van the day before, you thought, feet starting to hurt as you found yourself following the path for about thirty minutes before finally spotting her figure.

She didn’t notice your presence, not at first, or, at the very least, she didn’t acknowledge it. Her back was turned to you as she sat on top of a rock, silently staring at a thin, running body of water, and the cigarette smoke she exhaled into the air created that same hazy curtain around her head you’d become so used to admiring back before everything changed. The sight was oddly familiar, and, for a second, you felt as if you were still that naive, young high school kid, lying down quietly as you watched her chainsmoke Marlboro Reds out of your bedroom window.

Your breath hitched in your throat as she brought the cigarette back to her lips, her sharp jaw glistening under the sunrays that managed to sneak between the leaves and frame her beautiful face as if that was their sole purpose. Natalie was a force of nature, and, even after all this time, you still noticed how everything seemed to bend around her, how the trees and the rocks and the running water seemed to gladly settle for second place, knowing they’d never be able to compete with someone who looked like that.

You could look at her for hours, especially after going so long without it. You considered hanging back and just watching her, relishing in her features, listening to her soft breathing among the sound of the water flowing through the rocks like you’d listen to your favorite song. It was tempting, undeniably so, the idea of getting front row seats to the Natalie Scatorccio spectacle, the idea of being a fly on the wall as you just let her be — a guarantee that you’d be able to stay close without scaring her away, without her slipping through your fingers before you could spot it.

But you always seemed to push your luck when it came to Nat.

“Scatorccio,” you called out, soft, gentle, earnest, “still thinking of flying away?”

Your heart pounded like a drum in your chest, but you didn’t falter.

Natalie let out a small, breathy chuckle, turning her neck around to face you better, pulling the cigarette away from her lips.

“You know gravity…” She replied, voice hoarse from the smoke. “Still a bitch.”

“Some things just never change.”

Her eyes raked over you for a moment too long before she turned her head back around.

“Yeah.” She settled her gaze on the water again. “Guess they don’t.”

Good, was all you could think, so she hadn’t totally pulled away. You’d been half preparing to be met with complete silence or the sight of her running for the hills again, so, even though she wasn’t quite as talkative as the night before — with the group setting and the booze —, you took the little interaction as a win.

You took a step forward.

“Mind if I join you?”

She didn’t look at you, but she nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Be my guest.”

And you complied. You walked over a few rocks, wobbling slightly as you moved down to sit beside Nat — courtesy of your shaky knees. Damn her for making your legs so weak.

“It’s pretty nice out here.” You broke the temporary silence, letting your eyes properly take in the view for the first time since you’d arrived at the creek.

“Yeah,” she answered, quiet, simple, “really is.”

Your heart wouldn’t stop hammering inside of your chest as you kept on wondering what to say next. Maybe not coming up with a plan had been a bad idea.

You thought about mentioning the game from the night before, the way Jackie and Shauna still maintained that weird will they, won’t they dynamic even years after the end of high school, the fact that you’d seen a strange bird you couldn’t really name on your way to the creek. You even thought of talking about the weather, which was, at the same time, your safest and most boring option.

Then again, something about Nat just made you want to push your luck.

“I’m really nervous.” You admitted, soft, the words leaving you on their own accord.

Natalie put out her cigarette on the rock, a soft exhale leaving her mouth as she turned her head around to study your side profile.

“Nervous?” She asked. “Why?”

You let out a timid giggle.

“Do you really have to ask?”

She leaned back on the rock, far enough to rest her weight on her elbows.

“Humor me.”

You sighed, your breath coming out shakier than you’d like it to.

“Because of you.” You replied honestly — because of course you did. Nat asked. And you never really knew how to deny her. “You make me nervous.”

She chuckled, and your heart fluttered a bit.

“I never used to make you nervous.”

“Not true.” You retorted. “You used to make me nervous all the time.”

She furrowed her brows.

“It’s not how I remember it.”

“Yeah, well, I used to be better at hiding it.”

She watched you out of the corner of her eye.

“And what changed?”

You studied her, letting your gaze settle on her for a long moment for the first time since you’d gotten this close, averting your eyes as soon as you realized she was watching you back.

“You—” You tried to go for the safest option, not wanting to mention everything Tai had told you in the morning. “It’s just been a long time, Nat.”

She bit on the inside of her cheek, turning away as well. You noticed the way her breath seemed to falter, the way her back stood still. She was also nervous.

“I know what you mean.” She finally said. “But— I mean, it’s stupid, right? There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me. And it’s just you.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s stupid.”

Silence fell upon you again.

For once, Natalie was the one to break it.

“So, NYU, huh?” She murmured, quiet and gentle, her voice nearly blending with the sound of the running water. “Guess I never properly congratulated you for that.”

You heart ached instantly in your chest at her words. For the first time, you didn’t have to push — what once had been the catalyst of your breakup, the central focus of your future, the gigantic wall that had been built between you and Natalie, was, now, simply a small talk pivot she’d chosen to mention herself.

A sharp reminder that the future wasn’t the future anymore, and whatever you two had been had stayed in the past.

You exhaled softly.

“Worked out in the end.”

“I always knew it would,” she offered, and it felt like a punch to the stomach, “I always knew you’d make it big.”

“You’re being too kind.” You retorted. “I’m still…” You huffed, the words feeling selfish in your mind even before they left your lips. “I still have no idea what I’m gonna do after graduation.”

“You’ve still got some time, right?” You swore Natalie’s gentleness would wind up killing you if she didn’t stop that soon. “No need to panic yet.”

It left a bitter taste in your mouth, sharing your own problems when you’d just found out what her life had looked like over the past three years, but you figured that to be a good, safe strategy. Keeping the focus on yourself would prevent you from slipping, from saying the wrong thing. And, on a more selfish note, you’d missed this — sharing your life with Nat, telling her your deepest thoughts, pouring your heart out and leaning back as she made everything just a little bit easier.

“I guess.” You shrugged. “Don’t really have to settle on anything for good until next year.”

“Well, there you have it. Don’t fuss over it.”

You let out a soft chuckle.

“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to. I fuss over what I’m gonna have for breakfast.”

That earned you a small laugh from Nat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest.

“Right. How could I forget?” She shook her head. “You and your damn ability to overthink every possible scenario.”

“Turns out I never outgrew it.”

She snorted, looking out into the distance.

“Remember how you used to get right before matches?” She asked, and you swore you could spot a hint of fondness ghosting over her expression. “It was like the world was gonna end if we lost. Somehow, you’d convince yourself you’d be the one to blame if anything bad happened.” She shrugged. “Still ended up winning Nationals.”

“You’re partly to blame for that,” you offered back, “Nationals, I mean. You played to win. Even with those Baltimore troglodytes ganging up on you at the quarter finals.”

“Jesus, don’t remind me. They were fucking huge. I think they thought we were supposed to be playing rugby or something.”

You laughed.

“It felt so good to win that day. Even better than the last game for me.”

Your words were honest, and you had to hold back not to overshare, because, by Nationals, Nat and you had already fought. You’d already broken up. You hadn’t talked in weeks, she’d barely even spare you a second look, so there was nothing you could do except watch. You remembered it vividly — those broad-shouldered, tall girls treating her like a punching bag out in the field, the frustration and concern taking over your body as the referee turned a blind eye to all the strikes, the urge to just run forward and shield her from them, to keep her safe, to protect her.

The delicious feeling in your chest when you saw one of them dry a shed tear after Tai scored the winning goal.

“I know. The look on that blonde’s face? Something I’ll carry with me to the grave. I wish I’d gotten a picture of that instead of a medal.”

You chuckled.

“You know, college soccer isn’t that much better. Can’t tell you how many fouls I’ve been on the receiving end of last season.”

Nat turned her head around to look at you, a small smile ghosting over her lips.

“Wait. You still play?”

You grinned.

“Yeah. Division III. It’s not ideal, but…”

“Holy shit.” She seemed genuinely impressed. “Didn’t think you’d actually keep it up.”

“It’s not the same without everyone.” You shrugged. “And no one on campus really cares about us. But… it keeps me in shape, I guess. Gives me something to do.”

Her smile didn’t falter, and you felt an old warmth spread in your chest.

“That’s really cool.”

“You could come and watch us play sometime. If you’re not doing anything.”

The moment you said it, you cursed yourself mentally. You’d moved too fast, you’d scared her off. You’d gotten caught too deeply into the fantasy you’d created, into the idea of being normal around her again, and you’d actually asked her to come see you play a stupid soccer game at your college campus — like a reminder of everything that shattered the two of you back then in the first place. Of the life you had, the one that wasn’t accessible to her. Damn you and your tendency to risk everything around Natalie Scatorccio.

She hesitated, clearly taken by surprise.

“I mean… if, uh…”

You wanted to bang your head against the rocks. You’d been doing so well, easing into the conversation, slipping back into the old banter you’d missed so much. And now you’d ruined everything.

You started to panic.

“I mean—” You desperately tried to fix your situation. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to! I understand!”

“No, Y/N, it’s just that…”

“Seriously, Nat, it’s fine! I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to! Not with everything that you’ve been through lately, and—”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Just shut up. For the love of God. Shut up.

You froze, knowing you’d done the one thing you weren’t supposed to.

And your heart broke into a million pieces as Natalie flinched as if your words had physically punched her, just like those Baltimore girls back in high school.

“With everything I’ve been through?” She asked, eyes hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and you knew you looked stupid.

“Nat, I— Fuck, I just… It’s been a rough few years for everyone and…”

The sound of her bitter laugh cut through your chest, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so small.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare just sit there and talk to me like I’m an idiot.” Her voice was the harshest you’d ever heard it. “Who told you?”

“Nat, it doesn’t matter who—”

“It was Tai, wasn’t it?” She shook her head, arms now fidgeting restlessly at her sides, fingers obsessively picking at a loose thread on her shorts. “Of course it was fucking Tai. I knew this was a shitty idea, coming here. Fuck. I should’ve known it the minute you walked through that door.”

“Natalie, please, just listen to—”

“That’s what this is about, huh?” She asked, impatient. “I mean, you followed me into this creek. I’d figured that much out. And here I was, thinking, what, you just wanted to talk. To catch up or whatever.” She scoffed, an ugly sound, heavy and charged. “But no. You were just the one sent to check on the fuck-up, huh? To report back to the group or something?”

You let out a frustrated, desperate huff, reaching to touch her wrist in a last ditch effort to fix things, but she dodged you.

“Just hear me out, Nat, I’m just— I’m worried about you!”

Upon seeing the look on her face, you realized that was the worst possible thing you could have said at that moment.

“Oh, you’re worried about me. You poor thing. You must’ve been just pacing all over your dorm at NYU.”

Your expression fell.

“Nat, don’t do this.”

“Do what? Tell the truth?” She bit back. “It’s just what it is, Y/N. You’re— you’re thriving in your precious fucking life, and I’m happy for you, I am. But don’t look at me with that… condescending look on your face like I’m something for you to feel guilty about.”

You didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to embarrass her any further than you figured you’d already had, but her words stung. While the worry that hammered in your head — that deep, powerful concern that you had for Natalie — did stem from a place of guilt for not having stuck close the first time around, its true roots were the genuine care and love that you felt for her. Back in high school, back in your bedroom on that God forsaken Friday night, your mistake had been not pushing hard enough to make her see it. But you weren’t about to fail her, not again, not this time.

“What— you think I give a shit because I feel guilty?” You asked, unable to keep from raising your voice an octave. “That I’m just trying to clear my conscience? You really think that little of me?”

She exhaled heavily.

“What the fuck am I supposed to think? You don’t say a word to me for three fucking years and all of a sudden you wanna act like no time has passed?” A bitter scoff left her lips. “Talk about everything I’ve been through lately?”

“Oh, please,” you retorted immediately, impatient, “don’t make it sound like I’m the one who’s been shutting you out all this time. You disappeared. You didn’t return anybody’s calls. You’re the one who didn’t wanna be found.”

“Yeah, because you called, huh?” Nat rasped sarcastically. “You left, Y/N. You went to live your perfect little life in New York and never looked back. And, listen, I don’t blame you. If I’d had the chance to get out of that fucking shithole, I would’ve jumped at it, too. But don’t say that you called. Don’t say that you looked for me. You never did, not once.”

Natalie’s words were like swords to your chest. Had your absence really impacted her that much? Did she still care, even momentarily, at any point throughout the three years you spent apart?

“Are you seriously gonna put this on me?” You were exasperated, restless, unsure what to do with your hands. “I’m not gonna apologize for leaving, Natalie. Not when I tried to fix things, not when I tried to talk and you wouldn’t listen. You broke up with me, you told me it was never serious, you didn’t speak to me for weeks when you walked past me at school. You had every chance to show me you wanted me to reach out before I left, and you never took it. I’m not gonna take the blame for this, not by myself, not when you made it very clear you didn’t want me around.”

Natalie turned her entire body toward you, gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands in the way you knew she used to whenever she got nervous.

“I wasn’t gonna ask you to stick around, Y/N! Is that what you think I wanted? To—” She ran her hands through her hair. “To keep you in Wiskayok long enough for you to finally see me as the fuck-up I am? To hold you back from the brilliant fucking life you were always supposed to have?”

She caught herself, hesitating, chest heaving with deep breaths. Her voice came out lower when she spoke again:

“I was pissed off when I said all that shit in your room. I didn’t even mean most of it.” She said, eyes set on her own knees. “But it was for the best. I left your life, and you fucking thrived. I wasn’t gonna pull you back into my shit, not when you finally got everything you’ve ever wanted.”

You turned your body toward her too, lunging yourself forward as if the proximity would somehow make it physically possible for you to get through to her.

“I wanted you, Nat!” You exclaimed, knowing you were already way past the point of sugarcoating anything. “I was in love with you! All I ever wanted was for you to just let me in! But you— you just had to be stubborn, you just had to go and decide for yourself what I could and couldn’t handle. And I’m the condescending one? I’m the one to blame for this fucking three year long silence?”

“It did you good in the end, though, didn’t it? You wanted me, but you didn’t need me. I stayed in Wiskayok and threw my life down the fucking drain, and you’re— you’re good. You’re well off. You have everything that you deserve, you’re gonna have a beautiful life. I would’ve just held you back.”

You shook your head.

“That’s not true. You wouldn’t have held me back.”

“No, Y/N, I would. And that’s okay.” She sighed. “You don’t have to be nice about it.”

“Goddamnit, Natalie, you’re so—” You huffed impatiently. “You’re so fucking frustrating sometimes.”

She scoffed.

“I’m frustrating?”

You didn’t retract.

“Yes. Yes, you are. You keep fucking talking yourself down like you’re worthless. Like you’re a— a liability, a weight waiting to be taken away or something.” You leaned just slightly closer, serious, firm. “Like it’s a fucking crime that someone might actually want you around, that I might actually want you around.”

“You don’t even know me anymore,” she accused, “you wouldn’t want me around, not like this.”

“You can’t speak for me. You can’t just tell me what I would or would not want.” You replied, firm, sincere. “Not when all I’ve thought about over the past three years is this. Seeing you again. Fucking— fucking talking to you, being close to you, having you in front of me like this.”

Nat let out a contained breath.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She spoke, voice way softer than before, a guarded, almost shy tone that made your heart shatter in your chest. “I’m not… I’m not like that anymore. I’m not like I used to be back then.”

A ray of sunlight snuck through a bed of leaves and hit the side of her face, and you didn’t think you could remember a time when she’d looked that gorgeous.

“I don’t care what changed. I want you around, Nat.” You insisted. “I want you. I care about you. I don’t— I don’t fucking pity you, I don’t feel fucking guilty, I just miss you. I want you around.”

“Y/N…”

“I want you around, Natalie.” You repeated, willing to say it as many times as you had to in order to make her listen. “I want you around. I want you around. I want you around.”

Natalie’s breath hitched, but you leaned forward anyway. You could practically see the resolve leave her eyes, the argument die in her throat. You didn’t budge.

Pushing your luck was something that came naturally when you were around her.

So you reached a hand out tentatively, magnetically, finally touching her as your palm gently met her cheek.

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, tortured, relieved, seemingly fighting an inner battle against herself. A sigh left her lips.

“Y/N…” She whispered again, quietly, carefully, a wishful tone she carried like an old secret or prayer.

And, this time, you ran all out of words.

You didn’t care about walking on eggshells anymore, you didn’t care about rehab or jail or the three year long silence you shared. You didn’t care about anything other than the fact that Nat was right there, her cheek warm under your hand, her breath soft against your skin. She was right in front of you, letting you touch her, her now darker hair tickling your wrist almost as if to prove that this wasn’t another dream.

There was nothing left to do. There was nothing left in your mind.

So you lunged forward and finally, finally kissed her.

It was a risk, and you knew it. You half expected to be shoved away, to feel her cold hands on your shoulders, pulling you out of the fantasy and chucking you back into reality.

But the push never came. Instead, her fingers sunk into your hair, her body slid closer to yours, her tongue danced against your lower lip, inviting itself into your mouth.

Natalie was kissing you back.

You wanted to cry. If you thought too much about it, if she dared pull away for even one second, you knew you’d break down, you knew you’d make an absolute fool out of yourself as the tears rolled desperately down your face. But you held back, you didn’t cry, you wouldn’t cry — you wouldn’t ruin the moment. You would never do anything to stop it, not when she was so close to you again, not when you’d just gotten a taste of that same Marlboro and mint flavor you used to crave like a drug, not when her hands slid down your neck and shoulders, still so fucking good, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she proved she still knew your body like the back of her hand.

It did cross your mind for a second that there was a slight chance you might have been hallucinating. Maybe you were so sleep deprived that your brain started making up stuff, and Natalie wasn’t actually kissing you. Maybe you’d slipped and fell on your way to the creek, hitting your head on a rock, and the taste of her lips on yours was nothing more than a coma-induced dream.

But then:

“Fuck, I missed you,” Natalie muttered breathily against your lips, making your heart race violently against your ribcage, giving you the certainty that you weren’t just daydreaming, “I missed you so fucking much.”

You felt as if you were going to explode as the weight of the words she carried sent electric jolts down your spine, making the world stop turning, making everything that wasn’t her touch and her kiss and her voice fade into the background.

She was giving you so much, telling you the words you’d been dying to hear every day for years now, that all you wanted was to make her feel the same.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, frantic, desperate, cupping her face possessively as you threw a leg over her hips and straddled her lap, “every single day. I never stopped, not for a second.”

That seemed to get her going, because, next thing you knew, her hands were already moving beneath your t-shirt, fingers impatiently picking at the knot that tied your bikini top around your back, wanting and claiming and demanding in a way that felt so Natalie Scatorccio you felt like you were going to faint.

You were stuck in a haze.

Long minutes passed, maybe hours, you couldn’t tell for sure. In all fairness, you didn’t care. It didn’t even cross your mind that the others must’ve definitely noticed your and Nat’s absence by now, not when she moaned against your lips like that, not when she let you pull her shirt off and toss it carelessly aside like it was nothing but an obstacle waiting to be removed.

Your world narrowed down to her, to her fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts, to the way she lay you down so fucking gently and joined your hands together in a tight grip, your back clashing repeatedly against the rock as she explored the most sensitive parts of you like a map she still could read with her eyes closed.

Her words echoed in your head like something out of a dream.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“God, I missed you.”

“You’re driving me insane.”

Nothing mattered, nothing besides Natalie and the way she still worshipped you after all this time, the way she took her time with you and let you take your time with her, too.

The sky was already starting to turn a tender lilac when you finally collapsed beside each other, foreheads damp with sweat and arms trembling with exhaustion from having given one another everything that you possibly could.

Deep in your heart, you braced for a cold shoulder. For her to tell you it had all been a mistake, for a silent gathering of clothes and an awkward sound of zippers being pulled up as you both avoided each other’s eyes.

So, naturally, you felt as if you were going to choke on air as her arm reached around your shoulders and pulled you into her chest, willingly tucking your temple against her collarbone, making you listen to her racing heartbeat.

You closed your eyes, held back a surprised gasp, froze for just a moment.

And, because you’d never deny Natalie Scatorccio anything in your life, you melted into her touch, wrapping an arm around her waist and settling further against her skin. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. Her presence, her warmth, her touch — it was already enough.

After what must’ve been long minutes of silence, she finally spoke up:

“You mind if I smoke a cigarette?”

All you could do was let out an easy chuckle.

“No, go ahead.” You muttered, daring to press a gentle kiss against the bare skin of her shoulder. “I don’t mind.”

Without removing her arm from around your body, Nat reached for her shorts nearby, pulling the pack and the lighter from one of its pockets with a few clumsy moves before successfully managing to get a cig between her lips.

And, just like old times, she smoked and you watched.

In between puffs, she let her eyes follow a bird that flew distantly into the sky.

“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about flying away.” You teased, only half joking.

To your relief, she let out a breathy chuckle.

“No, no.” She shook her head, blowing the smoke away from your face. “Just… I don’t know. Thinking.”

You looked up, your gaze set on the curve of her jaw.

“Humor me.”

She took a long drag of the cigarette, still looking out into the distance, slowly inhaled the smoke, and finally breathed it out.

“It’s just been a long time.” She said, calm, serene. “You kinda forget how it’s supposed to feel.”

Her soft words left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Because, for three years, that’d been all you wanted — Nat, naked, holding you close to her chest while admitting that you were the one she missed, that you were the one she felt good with. That nobody compared, no one even came close.

And, still, the implications of her line gnawed at your heart like a lump you couldn’t swallow. You forget how it’s supposed to feel. Had she been trying to get it from someone else? Had she been suffering through it, putting herself through uncomfortable situations in order to try and spark up an old feeling she’d only ever gotten with you?

How many beds had she been in? How many people had it taken for her to forget?

You closed your eyes and opened them a few times, blinking away the thoughts, thinking back to all of the platinum blondes whose dorms you’d ended up in back at NYU, your desperate, pathetic, pointless attempts to forget about Nat while actively seeking out girls who carried any hint of resemblance to her.

“Yeah.” You finally replied, shifting closer, your grip tightening around her waist just slightly. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Natalie’s free hand slid through your shoulder, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin in the exact way she used to do before everything changed.

“You make it easy to remember, though.” She took another drag of the cigarette.

A quiet moment went by, peaceful, fleeting. She spoke again:

“You just always feel so inevitable to me.”

Your heart leapt in your chest.

“Inevitable?” You questioned, looking up at her again.

She simply nodded.

“Yeah. And it scares the shit out of me.” A breathy, anxious little chuckle left her lips. “I just…” She sighed. “It’s like I can’t stay away from you. And I’m afraid I’m gonna drag you into my bullshit again.”

There it was.

The moment you’d been waiting for, the one you didn’t think you were going to get. Honesty, vulnerability. A clear path for a conversation — one that she had started, one that you didn’t need to force.

It was Nat. Your Nat. Giving you a chance to walk into her world.

You reached for her hand, the one attached to the arm wrapped around you.

“Then we’ll deal with the bullshit together.” You said, firm, earnest. Not wanting to sugarcoat it. Not shying away from the problem. “Just don’t stay away.”

Natalie hesitated.

“You don’t know how bad it gets, Y/N.”

You leaned up slightly, letting your lips meet her jaw in a tender kiss.

“I don’t care how bad it gets,” you whispered, “I just want you close. However it looks.”

She closed your eyes as you kissed her skin, as if savoring the moment before it was gone.

“I want to be,” her voice came out rough, almost shaky, “I— I wanted to call, you have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out, but I just— I don’t…” She sighed. “I can’t stand the idea of being a burden in your life, I just can’t. And don’t tell me that’s not what I’d be.”

“Natalie.” You pleaded, shifting so you could have a better look at her face, wanting her to meet your eyes. “I’ll tell you that as many times as I have to to make you believe me. You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden. Whatever shit that comes with, I can handle it, I’ll take it all if it means you’ll be a part of my life again.”

She stared back at your face.

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” She whispered. “I don’t— I don’t know if I can be that person for you anymore, I can’t… I can barely handle myself right now, let alone someone else, I just… I can’t do expectations, I can’t stand the idea of disappointing you again.”

“You never disappointed me, Nat. You never did.” You gripped her hand more tightly, trying to get through to her, trying to make her believe your words. “And I have no expectations. I don’t want to be something else you need to balance, I don’t wanna make it complicated for you. I wanna make it easy. I want to be there. I want you in my life.”

Natalie let out a shaky breath.

“Let’s just…” She squeezed your hand back. “Let’s do this weekend. Let’s be with each other for now, and see what happens. I can’t— I can’t promise you more than that, not right now.”

As much as you wanted to beg for more, you knew you needed to take it slow, you knew Nat was still too fragile to give you what you wanted, and there was no point pushing. After three years of silence, after three years of nothing, you figured having her for the weekend was already a step, a big one considering where you’d started. Plus, you couldn’t say no, you never could — not when it was her asking.

“Let’s do this weekend.” You repeated, gentle, reassuring. “And we’ll see what happens.”

Natalie smiled, soft and contained, but so undeniably beautiful you felt your knees go weak.

“Deal.”

And she pushed her head up from where it lay on the rock, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer in order to press a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t heated or hungry or desperate this time — it was tender and slow, sincere, unrushed. A vow that, at least for now, everything was okay. And, for a second, everything seemed to fall into place.

You fell into a peaceful silence, curling against her side again, letting her fingers thread through your hair in gentle motions as you ran your own up and down the skin of her waist.

She finished her cigarette, kissed you again a few times. You couldn’t do anything but let her.

Eventually, her voice sounded out again.

“I don’t wanna be the one to put an end to this,” she said, that old playful, amused tone back in her voice like no time at all had passed, “but these fucking mosquitoes are eating me alive here.”

You laughed.

“Can’t really blame them.” You teased, pressing one final sweet kiss against her cheek. “Come on, let’s get dressed. The others are probably wondering where we went off to by now, anyway.”

The walk back was calm. Your hand kept on brushing Nat’s, and she never pulled away, which you considered another small win amidst the light conversation.

Once you reached Taissa’s family’s house, you spotted all the other girls sitting down in a circle around a bonfire in the front yard, bottles and red cups in hand, the sound of the crackling fire and laughter distracting them from your and Natalie’s silhouettes appearing in the distance.

Ever the observant one, Van was the first one to notice. Before you could even try to say anything, you saw the raise of her eyebrows, the way she quickly sat up and nudged Tai’s arm, the shit-eating grin that appeared on her face.

You knew you were fucked.

“Bow chicka wow wow…” She teased, laughing unashamedly, making all heads turn in your direction. “Guess you two finally figured out the way back to the house. We were about to send a search party.”

Your first instinct was to freeze, stopping in your tracks completely as you braced yourself once again for Natalie to pull away.

But she didn’t.

“You know how it gets in those woods,” she said, ever so easily, ever so lightly, exactly like she used to all that time ago, “next time we’ll bring a map.”

And she wrapped an arm around you.

Your entire body burned with something stronger than passion, stronger than affection. You were happy, so fucking happy you could just burst into tears — because, for once, everything seemed to fall into place; because, for the first time in so long, Natalie actually seemed comfortable in her skin, leaning into your presence, embracing the company of your friends instead of shying away from it.

So you just laughed.

“Come on, you two,” Taissa waved both of you over with a knowing smile on her lips, shifting closer to Van on the bench they sat on, making room for you and Nat to fit, “join us. We’re just drinking and talking shit about people from high school.”

“My two favorite things.” You joked, letting Natalie guide you, sitting down between her and Tai on the wooden bench.

Lottie was quick to offer you both a kind smile, reaching into the cooler to grab two cold bottles of beer, motioning to hand them over to the both of you.

You took your own, but, to your surprise, Nat didn’t move.

“Nah, thanks, Lott.” She shook her head. “I’m taking it easy tonight.”

As you heard her words, your heart seemed to grow inside of your chest, a warm, all consuming feeling that only made it harder to hide the grin on your lips.

Because Nat was trying. You knew it must not have been easy, you knew there was no guarantee she’d keep it up. But she was trying.

And you knew you had something to do with that.

The night rolled by in that same unworried, light tone, with Natalie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders without faltering all through it, the sound of her laugh becoming more natural and less like a rare occurrence as the hours passed. Slowly, yet inherently heartwarmingly, the proximity increased, the barriers came down, the ease installed itself around the group just like it used to.

Once everybody started to collect themselves and head back inside, Lottie didn’t say a word as she brushed right past you and followed Laura Lee upstairs, choosing to bunk with her for the night, leaving the room down the hall free for you and Nat to share.

Your heart seemed to burn even hotter in your chest when she completely ignored the bed across the room, the one Lottie had slept in the night before, and sunk into the mattress beside you with a soft sigh, her lips immediately meeting the back of your head.

You shifted even closer and closed your eyes, her breath warm and steady on your neck.

For the first time in three years, sleep came easily to you.

The next morning consisted of a hurdle of suitcases scattered across the living room, the sound of closing trunk doors and the bittersweet exchange of hugs and goodbyes on the Turners’ front porch.

One by one, everybody started to leave — Misty drove away on her Fiat 500, Shauna and Jackie left together in the brunette’s car, Lottie and Laura Lee followed shortly after, each taking their own ride.

For once, you didn’t rush. You didn’t feel the need to wake up at 4 in order to avoid traffic, you allowed yourself to take your time as you got dressed next to Natalie, as you had your breakfast and finished packing your things. You were in no hurry to leave.

Once you finally closed the trunk of your car, you spotted Nat’s dark locks glistening underneath the late morning sunrays, bouncing gorgeously as she slowly made her way to you.

“So…” She said, a small, conspiratorial smile on her lips as she leaned her shoulder against the side of your car. “Drive safe.”

You matched her expression, stopping in front of her, letting your weight rest on the shut car door as well.

“Always do.” You replied, soft, genuine. “And you, text me when you get home. Just so I know Van didn’t drive you guys into a ditch or something.”

She chuckled.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Good.” You nodded. “I’ll be waiting, then.”

The words hung heavy between the two of you, because, in that moment, both of you knew they weren’t just about knowing Nat had made it home safely. They weren’t just a playful jab at Van’s questionable driving skills. They were a promise, an agreement, a mutual effort to try and stay in touch, to not let this weekend go in vain. And Natalie was willing to try.

That alone was enough for you.

“Alright, I should get going now.” You said, moving away from the car, straightening yourself up.

“Yeah. Yeah, don’t let me keep you.” She whispered, that soft half grin still present on her face, mimicking your motions. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Nat.”

But neither of you moved.

It didn’t feel right, not after the day before, not after the night that followed it.

So you just stayed there, face to face on the Turners’ luxurious front yard, stretching the goodbye out until the last possible minute, exchanging lingering glances in order to make sure you’d remember each other’s features for whatever time you were about to spend apart next.

To your surprise, Nat was the one to break the silence.

“You know,” she muttered, “I, uh… I always wanted to see New York. So next time you have a game or something, just… give me a text. Maybe I’ll make a trip out of it.”

Your heart filled with warmth.

You knew she had a long way to go. You knew addiction was a rough journey, one that consisted of highs and lows, and that the path you were about to embark on wasn’t going to be easy.

But you didn’t care about easy. You didn’t care about light. The only thing that mattered was her, Natalie, offering to be a part of your world, inviting you to be a part of hers.

So you just smiled, reached out a hand, let your fingertips tentatively meet her wrist.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

"hey," you hear chaewon, the leader of your band, call you, "have any idea where your girlfriend is?" she teases, though you can sense a little bit of frustration from her part, which was understandable, knowing that yunjin was her friend too.

"girlfriend!?"

"girlfriend?"

"girlfriend!"

the other three shout simultaneously. eunchae's eyes are sparkling, kazuha's mouth is open in an "O" shape, and sakura looks like she's about to interrogate you on when, why, how, and where this happened.

you throw off the others with a wave of your hand, offering the leader an apologetic smile, tapping your drumsticks on your lap, "ignoring the "girlfriend" part because she isn't, but she did say she'd be here soon."

chaewon merely gives an unconvinced hum, inspecting her microphone while kazuha tunes her bass guitar, eunchae tests her keyboard, and sakura practices rifts on her electric guitar. you tap your drumsticks on the cymbal a little nervously.

"i'm here!" a loud voice announces, as huh yunjin finally runs in, her hair looking messed up, her clothes ruffled, and her own electric guitar lugging along with her on one shoulder. chaewon purses her lips at the scene, but you simply leap from your chair and towards yunjin.

the taller girl closes her eyes and braces for a lecture, but all she feels is gentle hands weaving through her hair. she opens her eyes and looks into yours. you don't look mad...?

"huh yunjin," you whisper.

"hm?" she hums dazedly, her cheeks turning a warm pink when your hands move to pat at her wrinkled clothes.

"what's your excuse this time?" sakura chimes instead, stealing your question from you. at this, yunjin smiles sheepishly, sneaking a glance at you for advice on how to approach this, but all you give her is a slight nod. she sighs.

"i actually a very good excuse for this and, well....i-"

"she was picking something up for me," you answer for her, with your back still facing the rest of the band. yunjin looks at you, failing to hide her relieved expression, and you shake your head at her before turning around and having a staring contest with chaewon.

the leader sighs and gestures for the both of you to get on stage, "just don't make a habit of it, please, that was the third time this week, jen."

"yes ma'am," the blond electric guitarist nods with a grin, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and running to the stage before you could reprimand her.

you huff, rubbing your cheek, and you make your way back to your drums, deciding to talk to her privately about it later.

you take no notice of how hot your cheeks felt, and you certainly pretend that you're unaware of yunjin's stares.

"I can't keep covering for you, yunjin," you mumble, patting gently at the cut on her cheek. she lets out a pained whine as you do so, but you don't let up.

yunjin doesn't say anything at first, not when you're in such a...compromising position.

'is this on purpose?' she thinks, because between you straddling her lap and treating her stinging wounds, it's either the pain or how horredously down bad she is that's making her this dizzy.

and your face was terribly close. she swallows, not making direct eye contact with you.

"hey," your lips curl into a small smirk, and yunjin makes the mistake of looking up. her cheeks immediately color when her gaze locks with yours, "you've been uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal with me today."

you bandage her cheek carefully, then moving on to the small gash on her stomach.

"may I?"

her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she lifts up her own shirt for you, and you roll your eyes playfully at how dramatic she's being. you feel her squeeze your arm when you disinfect it, with you biting your lower lip in concentration.

"is this really necessary?" she finally gathers the courage to ask, and she gestures to you sitting on her lap as though it wasn't your first time.

"why?" you whisper, finishing up the first-aid, the tip of your nose touching hers, "does it bother you, spiderwoman?

and yunjin tries. she tries her absolute hardest not to give in, because she wonders if this was all a game to you. she wonders if yesterday night had happened at all.

yunjin doesn't know why you're so calm when she had just saved your life.

she had thought that after the shock of almost being burgled, you'd be shaking like every other person would be. but instead, here you were, sitting on the edge of your fire escape, offering her half your sandwich.

she's hanging upside down, her mask only lifted high enough for her lips to be visible as she quietly accepts the food after you refused to take back your offer.

"can i ask you a question?"

yunjin nods slowly, "go ahead."

"are you always this caring towards the people you save?"

she's caught off-guard by the question and grateful that the mask was hiding her flustered expression.

"...i don't know what you mean."

you raise an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on your face, though it did look a little strange for her from this angle, "really? well, do you bring every single one of them home? and stay a while? do you somehow know all their addresses? are you secretly a stalker?"

yunjin rolls her eyes underneath her mask, but her heart is racing. were you implying that you knew it was her?

knowing she wasn't sure of what to say, you lean closer to her masked face, and yunjin swears that she hears your breathing get slightly shaky.

"jennifer," you whisper, relishing in the way she tenses up visibly, "you know you're terrible at hiding things and how you're feeling, right?"

the last bit of sandwich she has in her hand drops, and she catches it with her web and a small yelp, making you giggle. her jaw hangs open and she racks her head, thinking how she could save this.

but, she knows, if there is any chance of anyone ever knowing about her secret, it would be you.

"how did you know?" she manages to say, her lips pursing.

"let's just say you're pretty obvious," you say, "at least, to me. and in more than one way."

"your voice, your mannerisms, and the subtle hints..."

yunjin finds herself staring at your lips. 'oh my god,' she thinks, mentally facepalming, 'is this really the best time to be dreaming about kissing her, huh yunjin?'

"wait, what?" oh. how articulate.

you let out a soft laugh at her dumbfounded tone, and she finds herself moving closer, and closer.

"if you already know who i am," you can feel her warm breath on your lips, "and you know how i feel, then, what are you going to do about it?"

"i can think of something," you say, staring at her lips, and she finally closes the gap, her lips hesitantly brushing against yours, before you cup her cheeks with your hands and you pull her close.

god, an upside down kiss. she could literally die happy now.

she could hardly register what's happening before you pull away. her lips chase yours, but you only giggle before gently pulling her mask off. there she is, the person who's been plaguing your daydreams.

"wanna come in and talk?"

"...more kisses?"

"mhm, if we talk."

"deal."

unfortunately, your roommate had called from inside, and she immediately pulls her mask back on. you're just about to apologise, but she shakes her head.

"tomorrow?" she asks, hopefully.

you pull her mask down again, just enough to give her one last kiss. she's almost afraid the web that's holding her up will break from how weak every part of her is feeling right now.

"tomorrow."

well, tomorrow was here. and fuck, she wants to kiss you again.

"wait," yunjin presses her index finger to your lips, "you promised we'd talk."

"right," you smile, opting for a kiss on her forehead instead, and she can feel the gears in her head screeching at this point, "sorry, you just look extremely kissable."

yunjin's hands settle hesitantly on your hips while your arms wrap around her neck, "what do you wanna talk about?"

"first of all," yunjin tilts her head, "what are we?"

"whatever you want," you tease, making her pout, to which you giggle, "okay, okay."

"jennifer huh," you say in a more serious voice, somehow making her posture straighten. you lean your forehead on hers, your voice laced with lovesick undertones that makes her heart melt, "i want to be your girlfriend."

yunjin can't stop herself from grinning.

"again."

"what?" you pull back a little to see her entire face. she looks happy. you love when she's happy.

"say it again," yunjin whispers breathlessly, her hand reaching up to cup the side of your face, her thumb brushing against your lips, "please."

"huh yunijn," your head feels fuzzy, but you nod as you humour her, shivering when her other hand starts playing with the hem of your shirt, "i want to be your girlfriend. that is, if you wa-"

she doesn't allow you to finish her sentence before she presses her lips to yours, making a surprised sound leave your throat. your hands tangle in her hair, and when you pull a little, you feel giddy when she whines softly.

this time, she pulls away first, but you don't chase her lips. you don't have to, anyway.

yunjin clears her throat, her blush getting redder as she gives a indifferent shrug, "sure, sure. yeah, that sounds good."

you scoff, slapping her shoulder playfully.

"okay! okay, i'm sorry, babe," yunjin pouts, and it's honestly terrifying how much of an effect she has on you already.

also. woah. babe. you're mentally giggling and kicking your feet at this point. not that you're ever gonna let her know.

"i want to be your girlfriend too," she kisses your cheek, "but, you do know what comes along with being spiderwoman's girlfriend, don't you?"

"enlighten me!"

"i mean, i'm somehow always in trouble, which means you could get into trouble, and it can and will be dangerous, and oh god, i wonder if we should even-"

"nuh uh," you interrupt, using your hand to cover her mouth.

her eyebrows furrow as she lets out muffled complaints, and you tsk at her, "you've already saved me once, jen. i'd trust you with my life. i've got your back and you have mine."

yunjin takes your hand off her mouth and she sighs in defeat, nodding, "you're right."

"aren't i always?" you question in faux offense and she snorts in return, looking at you with so much fondness that it made your heart ache.

she nuzzles her face into your neck and pulls you closer, "it means a lot, you know."

"i know."

"babe, please tell me you're almost here 🧍‍♀️"

you stand outside your home, weaving your hand through your hair, waiting for her reply. you look away from your phone and up at the sky, the blue appearing especially pretty today. then, suddenly, you see a small, dark-suited figure flying through the same sky.

you think you're hallucinating until you see the mask up close, and your eyes widen comically when your girlfriend swoops by and picks you up smoothly by your waist with one arm, her other one preoccupied with webbing. other than the deafening whistle of the air as you shot up, you hear her breathless, excited voice, "hi, babe!"

"y-yunjin!" you yelp when your legs almost land on top of a random car in traffic, "this is not what i meant by picking me up for practice!"

spiderwoman only laughs, fleeting and free, amd your breath hitches in your throat.

ah, fuck.

you bury your face in her neck, focusing on how warm and secure her arm felt around your waist instead.

"you owe me for putting me through this!"

"aw, come on! now, be honest, would you give this ride a 5 star rating?"

yunjin x yn!! my cuties omg hi where are you guys?? they look like a couple lol

the viewers instantly surged in numbers and countless comments came pouring in. most were excited greetings and some were doting on the pair on screen, a few begging for couple poses to screenshot.

"hey everyone!"

"hi guys! thank you for joining us."

you and yunjin stood side-by-side, waving at the camera, which yunjin held as you nestled your chin on her shoulder.

"just to clarify, we aren't lost...we just can't seem to find our members anywhere."

the camera flipped around to reveal the open countryside. fields upon fields of...nothingness.

help where tf are they??? plz r they stranded idk whether to laugh or phone emergency services

"as you can see...there is no sign of civilisation. this may possibly be our 'rural survival' era." you announced, the camera flipping back to you and yunjin.

"but don't worry guys, we're safe, we just need to retrace our steps."

"i could've sworn they came this way..." you glanced around one more time as if your members were hiding somewhere in the barren landscape.

"i know... but i'm starting to think they may have gone down the other path."

"it all looks the same, this feels like the backrooms."

"i know right, we're too city girl for this." you nodded in agreement before hooking an arm beneath yunjin's and starting your trek back down the path.

the woman began replying to comments as you walked comfortably together.

"they're telling us to hold hands." she stated after a moment, a goofy smile on her face.

"guys…we're literally stuck in the middle of nowhere and that's how you're feeling?" you feigned offence but happily complied, gently taking yunjin's hand and intertwining your fingers, lifting it up to show the viewers, who were going wild in the comments.

you two were often affectionate with each other, seemingly having instant chemistry, which the fans quickly picked up on. it didn't take long for you and yunjin to become the most shipped pair in the group, but you didn't mind- you thought it was quite sweet actually, and you could definitely think of worse things to be circulating. not to mention the fact that you'd had a small crush on yunjin for a while now and clearly weren't subtle about it, judging by the copious amounts of dating rumours between you two, but you could usually play it off.

yunjin's opinions on the matter were kind of a mystery to you. she'd never explicitly addressed the shipping, but seemed to entertain the idea, often initiating affection or playfully flirting with you...for the fans, you dejectedly assumed.

you felt yunjin squeeze your hand and glanced up to see a soft smile adorning her features. you reciprocated the affection by squeezing back, the wordless action lighting a welcome warmth in your chest. the sun had begun to melt, plunging you into a golden hue that captured yunjin's eyes, causing them to gleam like sparkling pools of honey. the sight almost took your breath away and you gulped, wary of sinking too deep.

the way they look at each other, i can't absbjsbfh love love love pretty yunjin x yn is canon idc the way they're lost rn....IN EACH OTHER'S EYES

the last comment made you chuckle, and you saw yunjin's face light up on the screen when she read it as well.

"we probably look like an old couple right now. all we need is a dog." she stated with a laugh, causing you to smile shyly.

"or a cat."

"but cats don't like to go on country walks."

"neither do i. we're an old couple trying to be youthful and active while our grumpy cat chills at home, in the city." yunjin giggled loudly, squeezing your hand once again.

"yes that's perfect. let's make it happen." your eyes widened and you were met with her mischievous smirk.

damn you yunjin.

are the dating rumours even rumours at this point we're witnessing y/n's gay panic, live plz yunjin is such a flirt

"we should probably find our way back to civilisation first." you stated, hoping the inevitable blush in your cheeks wasn't too noticeable.

"that's true...maybe instead of going on live we should've called chaewon...?"

"wait why didn't we think of that first? your stupidness is rubbing off on me yunjin." you reached for the phone in your coat pocket, only to find many...many missed calls from your members. yunjin nervously chuckled beside you, also witnessing the horror.

"this is definitely because of your stupidness. why was your phone on 'do not disturb'?" she exclaimed.

"i was trying to experience nature properly!"

when the cottage-core liftestyle backfires because you're literally an idol

"okay everyone, you're about to witness y/n being torn to shreds by chaewon-unnie. prepare to be entertained."

you shot yunjin a dark glare before calling chaewon, the hollow ringing sending cold waves of fear through your body.

"y/n! where the hell are you?? why weren't you answering?! are you seriously on live right now!?"

"uh hi chae..." you glanced to yunjin for help but she simply shrugged angling the camera to show your panicked face instead. "we just got a bit sidetracked..."

"sidetracked??? you went missing and decided to do a livestream! i'm literally going to start developing grey hairs because of you two."

"i'm sorry chae, we're on our way back now...i think."

"you think?! please don't tell me you need a search team to go after you..."

"a search team?? wait... omg i think i see some cars."

yunjin swivelled her head in the same direction as you then gasped, physically jumping for joy.

"yunjin and y/n have navigated the perilous journey and return unscathed." she addressed the viewers as if she were a sports commentator.

you were literally walking for 5 minutes yay! power couple these two are perfect for each other poor chaewon LMAO

"oh thank god." chaewon sighed. "we're waiting by the car. remind me to get you guys those backpack leashes next time." and with that, she hung up.

you and yunjin took one look at each other before bursting into laughter.

"alright guys, sorry this was brief but hopefully you found it entertaining." you told the viewers.

"if you don't see us shitposting on twitter later, assume that foul play is involved by the hands of chaewon-unnie." yunjin added.

"mhm... okay, goodbye everyone! pray for us!" you and yunjin gave the camera a final enthusiastic wave before ending the live.

"that was fun." she stated before rejoining your hands. the action catching you off-guard since the live had ended, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"i reckon we should get lost together more often." you replied.

"in each other's eyes." yunjin wiggled her eyebrows, referring to the earlier comment causing you both to giggle.

"i have no objections."

"hm..." yunjin squeezed your hand, leaning slightly further into you. you squeezed back and relished in the closeness. "can we call our grumpy cat chaewon?" she mused after a moment.

"oh absolutely."

You swung around and climbed through your floor window into the Avengers Complex as quietly as your current injuries would allow. 

In other words, you made a lot of noise.

Wanda caught you keeping one of the jugs in the hallway from falling to the floor and was just as surprised at your condition as you were to see her.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know there were people home." You greeted clumsily, trying to disguise the way you were limping and forcing a smile past the pain. Wanda, of course, didn't buy it one bit - Red Threads pushed the vase away from your hands as she approached with a worried expression.

"Were you hit by a car by any chance?" She questioned, her eyes scanning the bruises on your face. You laughed, discreetly holding the wall. 

"Not by a car." You joked, which only worried her more. You were about to clarify that you were fighting a rhino man and that it was a pretty bad fight when everything started to go dark. Wanda held you by the waist, and you gasped in pain.

"Come sit down, dorogoya." You heard her whisper, letting yourself be carried into her room - next to yours, from which Wanda had emerged when she found you coming in through the window. 

Wanda sat you on the bed and waited for you to be able to breathe normally, as she sat across from you on a stool that she made float to her.

She used magic to bring a medical kit from the bathroom as well.

"Why are you here?" You asked breathlessly, and she blinked her eyes in surprise. With a chuckle, you clarified, "I thought the whole team was going to be out."

"You expected an empty tower and you chose here and not a hospital?" She returned with a question, her eyebrow raised. Her hands were busy opening the kit, and yours were squeezing your ribs where you had taken a few hundred blows.

"I didn't.... want to risk exposing myself." You mutter weakly, not having the strength to resist when Wanda approaches you and begins to pull your shirt up in the intention of seeing the size of the damage. "Doctors ask questions."

But Wanda barely heard her explanation, shock on her face as she saw the size of the bruises. 

"For Christ's sake, Y/N." She grumbled worriedly, risking pressing her fingers together only for you to jump away, whimpering in pain. "I think it broke."

"Don't worry about it. Spider power, and all. It'll heal." You retort breaking into a cold sweat but forcing a smile at her. "I just need some patches. Much like you, I guess." You comment on the countless times Wanda would finish off some superficial scars or bruises on her face. Her magic made the greater work.

She sighs but eventually accepts it. She starts preparing the bandages, and you push one foot gently over hers, drawing her attention back to you.

"So...why didn't you go with the others to Berlin?" you ask.

All the Avengers were away from the tower for the resolutions of the Sokovia Accords. When Tony Stark showed up on your doorstep almost six months ago saying he needed your help in a fight with Captain America, you laughed at the invitation. First, you thought that the heroes had finally gone crazy. Then, you thought it was a joke that a billionaire was at your door asking you to surrender your freedom for the American government to turn you into a weapon. And finally, you managed to talk some sense into a shaken and guilty Tony Stark. You convinced him not to face his friends, and Iron Man and his economic power changed the game. The political tension was still there, but the Avengers were not criminals, and the rest of the heroes of the world were free, and that was enough for the moment.

You knew that these meetings with the United Nations were more frequent, especially with Wakanda exposed to the world and working with the Avengers now, so the team had been quite busy.

Wanda should have gone with them to Germany, on some other humanitarian mission but she was here.

And she looked away to the pieces of cotton when you asked.

"I didn't want to go." She mutters. "I thought it was better that way."

Only by studying her reaction, you could tell what it was.

"This is about your powers, isn't it?" You asked anyway, and Wanda shrugged, confirming your conclusion. "They have to stop bringing Lagos up, you saved Steve's life and-"

"It's not their fault." Wanda cut in with a sad smile, "It's just me. Steve, Nat, and even Tony were okay with me being there. But I just don't..."

Wanda fell silent, and you ignored the pain to straighten up and take her hand. She shuddered in the same way, tense as if she expected to make your injuries worse.

"I think you'll be missed on the mission." You say gently, catching the small smile that appears on her lips as she stares at your fingers together. "They could use your magic for basically anything. Especially carrying boxes of supplies." You tease at the last, earning a chuckle. Wanda moves her hands away to start treating your face, and you try not to stare so hard.

"What happened to you?" she asks, trying to be gentle as she cleans the cuts. 

You sigh softly. "You'll probably see it on TV, but I just sent another supervillain to Raft. Sytsevich, or as he prefers to be called Rhino. Do you think it's strange how many villains dressed as animals I have to face?" You joke, getting another laugh out of her.

"You fought a lizard man before you came here, right?" she asks casually, but you raise an eyebrow.

"Have you been stalking me, Maximoff?" You retort provocatively, and Wanda laughs past the slight pink that appears on her cheeks.

"For your information, Captain gave us a file on you as soon as Tony said he wanted to recruit you." She explains, switching the cheek and apologizing with a glance when you shudder softly. "Speaking of which, you haven't accepted it yet."

You sigh softly, biting the inside of your cheek. Wanda waits, the gentle movements on your face, and after a moment, you say:

"I guess I'm scared too, Wands."  You confess with a sad smile, and Wanda hesitates with cotton against your cheek, her gaze concerned and curious. You swallow dryly before continuing. "Being an avenger is different from being the neighborhood friend. I'm afraid of what the change might mean for my Aunt May, for example. And I'm still going to college, what would it be like to be an Avenger and be on campus? What if some of these villains dressed as animals decide to invade a classroom because of me? I wouldn't forgive myself..."

"I get that." Wanda says, putting down the cotton to get a bandage. "None of us want to be responsible for people getting hurt."

You nod, but when you go to thank Wanda, you feel a sharp twinge in your rib and gasp in pain. She looks at you with concern, and you can barely force a smile to reassure her.

"Y/N, maybe I should take you..."

"No, no doctors." You interrupt her weakly. "P-perhaps, you can..."

But Wanda pulls her hands away at the same second, insecurity in her gaze. "No, I don't want to make things worse."

You give a weak laugh, shaking your head. "It's already broken, there's no way it could get worse."

"I could disintegrate it." She justifies seeming to want to talk some sense into you, but only makes you laugh softly.

"Great idea, if it doesn't exist it won't hurt." You joke, but Wanda just grunts impatiently. She makes mention of getting up, and you push the pain away to hold her forearm. "Come on, Witchy, please. I trust you."

"But I don't trust me!" She aggressively hits back, and you blink in surprise. Wanda looks away, swallowing in shame for snapping out of it, and before she can apologize, you are speaking again.

"You know I have a spider-sense. It works for danger, even when I'm asleep." You begin, taking Wanda's hand in yours and bringing it up to your face again. "And even when stay here for our movies nights and sleep next at your bed or even so when you use your magic on me, it never warns me. It knows that you are not a threat, not dangerous. I wish you could see that too."

Wanda feels her face heat up, and her eyes fill with tears. You only smile at her, and she sighs before lowering her hand to your ribcage. 

"Promise you'll tell me if your ribs disintegrate." She mutters getting a loud laugh that ends in a grunt of pain.

"Stop being funny, I'm in pain." You complain softly, and she giggles as well before letting the magic out of her fingers. 

You gasp immediately, and Wanda almost loses concentration entirely when your face falls on her shoulder, one hand squeezing her arm. Your rib returns to its place, and you stifle a whimper of pain on Wanda's skin.

"There, there, that wasn't so bad, right?" She whispers low, the magic still tingling on your skin as she uses her other hand to stroke your back.

"That was incredible, I'll tell Aunt May there's a potential nurse on the team." You joke, getting a small chuckle from the other, who gently pushes you back to the couch. 

"I'll get some painkillers for you, milashka." She warns as she gets up, and you think you blinked for only two seconds, but it was clearly for about five minutes.

Wanda gives you medicine and helps you to the bed. 

"Hey, Witchy." You call out to her before she can take the dirty cottons to the trash. "Movie night when I wake up?"

The invitation makes her smile. She knows you'll probably sleep for good hours and most likely have to go home when you wake up so May won’t kill you, but she agrees nonetheless.

Her smile stays in your head until you fall asleep.

–//–

You were eight years younger than Wanda. 

In the compound, surrounded by the Avengers, watching Sitcoms in her bed or training together it didn't matter.

At your high school graduation, with all those teenagers and teachers, Wanda could feel the difference.

She wasn't old, she was just older than you.

"I don't have to be a telepath to know something is wrong." Natasha's voice makes the brunette pull back in fright slightly. Wanda swallows dryly, looking away from your figure talking to a group of friends ahead. "Are you really going to keep hiding here and not talk to Y/N? She was particularly insistent on your presence today."

Wanda sighs, shifting her gaze to her feet and hiding better behind the pilasters the school has organized for the graduate's event. Unlike the rest of the Avengers - who caused a commotion by doing so - Wanda hadn't gone to greet you yet.

"I can't do this, Nat." The brunette murmured, looking down as the widow watched her reactions. "She...cares about me, I know she does. And I'm too old to be a crush."

Natasha sighs softly, uncrossing her arms and looking at Wanda sympathetically. "Now you're just being hard on both of you." Said the Widow, waiting for the brunette to look away from you and at her. "I'm sure if you were honest with her, Y/N would be willing for this to be more than a crush, Wanda."

But the brunette swallows dryly, denying it with her head. Her attention returns to you - laughing out loud with your friends, looking so at ease - before saying to her colleague: 

"She's only 18, Tasha. I can't demand that she decide her future now." Witch begins. "She's already told Tony that she's not joining the Avengers. She's going to get a degree first, and maybe work for some time with Bruce in the lab after that. None of those plans include me."

"But she doesn't know..."

"It doesn't matter." Wanda cuts in with a sad smile. "I couldn't shove those feelings onto her, and demand that she doesn't follow her dreams because I want to start a family. It wouldn't be fair."

"Is that what you're going to do?" Natasha asks a little surprised. "Start a family, I say."

Wanda sighs, attention returning to you for another moment. "Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that." Wanda confesses. "Especially now, when half the team is retiring. Tony and Pepper are getting married in the summer, Steve and James are buying an apartment together, and even you and Agent Hill are full of little whispers all around."

Natasha chuckles, looking away so Wanda can't see the color of her cheeks.

The witch takes the opportunity to continue talking, "I just mean that I always wanted a house. My parents, they were happy together. Raising me, and Pietro. I think about that. A small family, maybe two kids too, and a dog." She comments with a smile, but Natasha looks at Wanda with some uncertainty.

"What about the partner? Do you see yourself alone or with someone by your side?"

Wanda hesitates, her gaze locked on you. She knows the answer very well but chooses to clear her throat gently and force a smile.

"I could do it alone." She says, and Natasha sighs in surrender about insisting.

"At least wish her congratulations, Maximoff." The widow reminds, and Wanda nods in understanding, taking a deep breath to push any insecurities down before approaching where you are.

–//–

Wanda's plan was to let the distance keep you away because she simply didn't have the heart to do it.

If you noticed something was different, college kept you busy enough not to say.

Wanda figured it was working - She got a house, and started writing for a small company - the money was decent and at least she could stay away from Avengers work -  she also started doing Yoga.

And you called every Wednesday.

You seemed fine - happy, at least. You were tired, of course. Besides classes at NYU, occasionally Wanda would see you swinging between the buildings of New York while she write or have some tea, you were always busy with one police call or another, the new suit Tony gave you shining in the sky. 

And sometimes, you would stumble on her fire escape. Covered with soot, and blood.

Aunt May would be worried sick, and you refused to become an Avenger. Wanda's was the only place you could go.

She would nurse your injuries, but not without complaining. Because you were worrying her to death, and she only wished you'd be more careful. And you had to explain that it wasn't your fault you got shot. Almost always, you fell asleep on her couch, and Wanda wondered when the feelings would go away.

When your first semester was over, and all your colleagues had had too much to drink, you appeared at Wanda's window.

You arrived almost together with her, actually. It was Friday, and it was the first time she had accepted Vision's invitation. She was convinced that she could move on, the date had been nice and he was gentle, so of course, you had to stumble into the apartment all of a sudden.

You never drank, but Wanda wanted to laugh at the image of you apologizing to the window you bumped into.

She helped you stand properly, leading you into the kitchen for a glass of water while you tried to explain that everyone was celebrating and that you just wanted to be with someone you liked and Wanda had to disguise the way her hands were shaking when she handed you the glass.

"Why are you all dressed up, Maximoff?" You asked before taking a sip of the water, your back resting on the counter. Wanda cleared her throat, twiddling her fingers.

"I went out." She answered vaguely and thanked the alcohol for your difficulty in keeping up with the conversation at speed. "You can have the couch, and there's stuff in the fridge if you're hungry..."

Wanda was trying to escape to the bedroom, but you straightened up once she went to pass you, standing in her way. She gasped softly, her heart racing in her ears when you raised a hand to her cheek.

"I came here to say something." You start low, your voice husky. You blink a few times as if trying to concentrate and laugh breathlessly afterward. "I had a few beers to build up courage, but I think that was a bad idea." You joke, but Wanda can feel the desperation growing in her chest. 

"Y/N..."

"No, I need to say." You mutter, not noticing her hesitation because you are too nervous and drunk. Your other hand reaches for her face as well. Alcohol and nervousness make your thoughts very loud and clear to her. Wanda sees flashes of drunk young idiots making jokes about your hot avenger friend that you don't laugh at, and she also sees a blonde girl say that sometimes it takes more courage to confess to someone you really love. She's beautiful, and she's the same age as you. She seemed to expect a confession, and Wanda thinks it's right for her to receive it. Her stomach churns. "Wanda, I am-"

"I'm with Vision." She cuts you off, surprising you completely. It's not exactly a lie. She is, for a few weeks now, trying with Vision. He was more eager than she was. It was new, but it was something. 

Wanda swallowed dryly, moving her hands to yours. 

"B-but, Wands..." You tried, not resisting when she pushed your hands away gently.

"I was with him tonight. He asked me out, and I said yes." She continued in the least affected way she manages. She can feel her eyes burning, and unlike her, you sniffle softly, the alcohol taking away most of your ability to hide what you feel.

"What? When..." You stammer, and Wanda decides that this is the time. She lifts her chin and takes a deep breath.

"You've got things mixed up. I must be to blame for that, I didn't make it clear that I don't see you that way." She stated, her chest burning painfully at your expression of shock and hurt. "We would never work out because you're just a kid and-"

You break her speech with an incredulous laugh, turning away and Wanda uses that time to take a deep breath and not lose her composure right away. “What are you even saying?”  You retorted in the same tone, running a hand through your hair. "You and Vision? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Wanda felt a wave of irritation fill her chest. "What do you mean by that?"

You laughed again, turning back to look at her. "Exactly what I said. Vision, Wanda? Of all people. A damn piece of tin. If you want to reject me, at least be honest about your feelings."

Wanda felt her cheeks burn. Good, your drunk version was mean. 

"As you wish." She retorts between teeth. "I don't feel the same way about you." The lie burns in her throat, but she holds your gaze, only to see irritation give way to uncertainty and hurt that almost make her take back what she said.

But that only lasts half a minute. 

"I don't believe you." That's what you say before you move forward. Wanda goes backward in the same second, feeling her back slam hard against the cooler.

"W-what are you doing?" She asks in a shaky voice, raising one of her hands to your shoulder because suddenly your distance is decreasing too fast and she can't breathe properly. Wanda chokes when you slide one leg between hers, pressing your knee up. She bites her lips hard, holding her sighs in and shuddering when your hands firm on her waist, your face returning to hers.

"You keep saying things, but your body says something else." You whisper, brushing your lips together and Wanda loses it. She gasps when you break the distance, another sinful sound when you hold her tight and kiss her back. Her hands go up into your hair, and everything gets intense and hungry and she wants to remember why she resisted it for so long but can't formulate any thought with your tongue sucking hers, your body pressing her against the refrigerator.

But then, there is the alcohol. She can taste it, and she cannot, must not, ignore it. You break the kiss for breath, moving your mouth down to her neck and marking and Wanda almost gives up, but she knows she can't. Scarlet magic pushes you away, and you blink in confusion at the sudden cold, both of you breathing hard.

"W-we can't." She declares in a hoarse voice, lips and lower belly tingling. You swallow dryly, an irritation taking over your expression.

"I know he doesn't make you feel that way." You accuse equally affected, taking a step forward, but that was enough for her. She had to blink a few times to understand what you were talking about. Irritation returned when it occurred to her. Vision was her friend, a nice guy. Someone who was willing to keep up with her pace, someone with whom she could pursue a family. The way things were supposed to be, right?

Her magic stops you halfway again. With more force this time, you gasped in surprise.

"I want you to leave." She declared seriously. You swallowed dryly, trying to push the alcohol away completely but your mind just wouldn't obey. Wanda noticed it too and used that to her advantage. "I've never seen you like this because you're young and immature. And showing up drunk in my apartment just proved that. Go home. Walking."

Wanda knew it worked by the hurt in your eyes. You walked out the front door without saying another word, and before you got to the end of the hall, she was crying on the kitchen floor.

If it was the right thing, why did it feel like the end of the world?

You would call her the next day, apologizing profusely for the mess, not really sure if the kiss happened in a dream or not. And without the heart to ask Wanda about it. She assures you that it was no big deal, but she no longer answered your Wednesday calls and was always busy when you invited her to something. 

Her window started to stay locked. It didn't matter much, because, since late fall, you started showing up on Gwen Stacy's fire escape.

–//–

2018 was the worst year of your life.

The next five were bearable, so to speak. 

With the blip, everything changed. You had gone into space after Iron Man, and the very second you came back, and Steve rescued Tony from the spaceship, and you didn't see Wanda, you knew.

And that pain never left your chest.

Not when you agreed to go to England with Gwen, not when you proposed to her.

The lack of Wanda pulsed and burned. It poisoned your veins until you had to drown in the adrenaline of fights you could hardly win.

Gwen noticed, of course, she did. She loved you with all her heart. As young as you, and as full of life and dreams. She chose to stay, despite everything.

You and Gwen returned to the States when you graduated, and while your fiancée was busy with the apartment, you visited the blip victims memorial during the first week.

It took you a few minutes to find Wanda's name. And it was empty today, because of the rain. You didn't care about the water. 

“Hey, witchy.” You muttered under your breath, sniffling lightly. "Wanted to stop by to say hi. I got my degree last week, figured you would be happy." You count, twiddling your fingers inside your pocket. "We could go out and celebrate. I'm finally old enough to buy you a drink." A sob threatened to cut your throat, but you took a deep breath, pushing the emotion away. "Anyway, just so you know, they reconnected Vison last month. He's still a douchebag, but the government people want to use him for the same pretext as Ultron, I think. I didn't quite understand, and honestly, I didn't ask when Tony called. You've always liked him better than me." You play last, kicking the water gently.

Some people walk further away with umbrellas, and you changed the weight on your feet.

"I'm heading back to New York, by the way." You continue. "Now that I've finished college, Banner says I'm welcome to work with him. I'll like it, I think. Gwen is happy to see me working with something that does not involve webs or bandits." The name scratches your throat a little, and you give a tearful smile. "Sorry, I know we never talk about her.”

Making jokes only makes you feel worse, so you straighten your hood and put the flowers you brought on the stone.

"They're for you, Maximoff. I know it's corny, but you love these things." You mumble before getting straightened up again. "Goodbye, Wanda. I’ll try to visit more."

You didn't have to though. Two months later, Scott Lang came out of the quantum realm and saved the day (and thus the universe). 

Wanda hadn't changed a bit; she was even wearing the same costume in which she disappeared from Wakanda. Five years simply did not pass for her, unlike for you.

The first thing you looked at was her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the ring on your finger.

"Wands... you're here." You gasped, not caring about the fighting around you, or the explosions or anything but the woman you're seeing for the first time in five years, who though confused by the whole thing, ran to hug you too. You held her tightly, lifting her feet off the ground and Wanda laughed, hiding her face in your collarbone. 

"We have to fight." She reminded as soon as you set her down again, and you nodded, swallowing dryly and trying to find the strength to break the embrace. "Y/N, the fight."

"Right, right." You muttered as you let go, laughing impressed, and with tear-filled eyes. "But then, I'm taking you out for coffee."

Wanda chuckled shyly, looking at you one last time before fighting back. 

And you didn't stop until Tony snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of war all at once. Dressed in black, a flower for each limb fallen in battle. If you closed your eyes, you could still see their deaths.

Coffee with Wanda was postponed until after Tony and Natasha's memorial service. The widow had a much smaller and more intimate ceremony than the Iron Man - Back in Ohio, with Yelena, Melina, and Barton. 

You met Wanda in a cafe below her old apartment, now gone because in the blip the place had been absorbed by the government.

Wanda was the one who arrived late, which was different from all the other times you had met.

You stood up to greet her and hugged her for longer than a friend would, but neither of you cared. It's been five fucking years.

Wanda sat down first, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, stealing glances until the other had the courage to speak. The subject was casual until the first few sips of your drink.

"That's new." Wanda commented, briefly pointing to the shiny ring on your finger. You chuckled awkwardly, hiding your hand on instinct and without realizing it.

"Yeah, not exactly." You murmured tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess for you only, because of the blip and all, but Gwen and I have been engaged for a year and a half."

Wanda hums impressed - not exactly sure if that is the word she would use to describe the sharpness that wants to escape her sigh - and I decide to take another sip as you speak, not trusting what she really wants to say on the subject.

You clear your throat quietly. "The world has been crazy, and we were hoping to find the right moment to make it official. I think now, with everyone back, it will be easier to choose."

Wanda forced a smile, her stomach churning. She tried to imagine you marrying someone, and suddenly she didn't want to drink anymore.

"I'm happy for you." It wasn't entirely a lie, she was glad that you had moved on because you seemed happy and that was enough. No matter how much it hurt. 

You smiled small, taking a sip before speaking again:

"I've been meaning to ask you...have you talked to Vis yet?"

Wanda blinked in surprise. Vision? Yes, she saw him. Five years ago with a hole in his head that she caused, and then in the fight, completely different and cold. A machine, and it was probably the first time she had seen him for what he really was.

It was Wanda's turn to clear her throat hesitantly, looking at the peeling nail polish on her fingers for a second.

"Yeah, I... it didn't go very well." She confesses with a forced laugh. "Whatever was human about him is gone with the stone."

Wanda expected you to mock her - or say I told you so - but you reached out for her forearm and gave her a sad smile.

"I'm so sorry, Wands." That's what you said, and Wanda thinks she fell in love with you even more at that second. 

She would have leaned in, broken the distance, and done anything to know the feeling she had been craving to feel again since it happened for the first time, but your cell phone vibrated and you got out of the table, and soon you walked away saying that your fiancée missed you and despite the jealousy burning in her stomach, Wanda only felt the cold. She stayed in the café until it closed, staring at your empty seat and feeling her cheeks tingle where you had kissed her goodbye for all the time she sat there. 

Wondering how could she have lost you so easily.

–//–

The Blip returned half of the criminals and supervillains, so you left the labs and went back into the buildings.

It was dangerous and risky, but you were more experienced too. Stronger. Arrogant.

"You don't have to go." It wasn't the first time Gwen had asked, nor would it be the last you were sure. You were in your shared apartment, and it was a quiet night until the first siren. "Maybe someone else-"

"There's no one else, Gwen." You interrupt her with your mask in hand. It's true. The Avengers were gone, Tony, Nat, and Steve were seven feet off the ground, Clint and Wanda were retired and Sam was in another state with Bucky. New York was yours to protect. You put on your mask, but you went back to your fiancée: "I'll be right back, you won't even have time to miss me. Put the popcorn in the microwave, I'll be back before the commercials."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Parker." She retorted pinching you gently in the ribs but smiling. 

You laughed softly before turning to the window, following the sounds of the explosions.

You returned in time to finish the game but two weeks later, on your way back from the supermarket, you welcomed an old friend waiting for you at the door.

Harry Osborn was as ill as his father had been before he died. He expected the same fate, even though after Tony had stopped making weapons, the Stark industries had made way for the Oscorp company, and Harry's family to make a considerable fortune, and more than enough for him to find treatment for it. 

Gwen was working, and couldn't join you at the café. That's when Harry revealed his intention to ask an enhanced human for help. 

You knew that your father's spider project was specifically for your blood and that donating to Harry would kill him. You didn't want to live with that guilt, so you didn't tell him about your secret identity. Maybe your biggest mistake was lying to your friend, or maybe it was not listening to Gwen and retiring.

In any case, less than a month later, you had to face Harry - no, the green goblin. Harry was gone. That creature was not your friend. Harry would never have hurt Gwen.

She was buried in New York, unlike him, who was taken back to England.

It was all over the news, but you weren't in New York to welcome Clint Barton with flowers to your door.  - having gone to London for Harry's memorial service as if you hadn't been the one to stick a piece of metal in his chest.

On your first night back in New York, you drank heavily and were consumed with the overwhelming urge to go up to Wanda's old apartment, even though you knew she no longer lived there. In fact, you had no idea where she was, not since that coffee. She was gone from your life like five years ago, and you were too busy to investigate it.

So you came home and slept on the couch. Spider Woman became strangely aggressive with criminals after that.

When Quentin Beck came into your life, he expected someone easy to fool. Tony left a few things for you, but everything was a personal treasure. When Beck realized that he couldn't trick you for those belongings, he tried to steal them. And soon, the whole thing revealed itself.

You killed him on the Brooklyn Bridge, and he revealed your identity to the world. 

Most people, like your neighbor at No. 23 were more shocked to see the sweet girl who helped you with your groceries murder a man with her bare hands than to know who was behind the mask. 

Bucky called, said he understood, and that if you wanted to spend a few days in his apartment, the place was yours. He practically lived with the Wilsons now anyway.

You accepted because you were kicked out of your old one. 

Your life was turned upside down, and so are you now, hanging from a building.

You were thinking about how everything wasn't fair. From Aunt May having to deal with the loss of donations at the foundation to graffiti from 'The spider is a Murderer' that she had to mobilize half the staff to clean up for, to Gwen losing her life because she chose to stay with you. 

And the idea of changing that occurs to you. 

Because you have had enough contact with magic to know that it is possible. You could at least help May get her job back. 

Your first and natural choice was Wanda, but nobody knew about her. You had to turn to Stephen Strange, therefore.

"I just want to make things right." That's what you told him, receiving an understanding sigh in return.

"I haven't had a chance to say it yet, but I'm sorry about Miss Stacy." He retorted tenderly, a hand on your shoulder, and you felt something burn behind your eyes. You forced a smile and nodded.

"Thank you, Strange."  You said. 

He led you into another room, intent on performing the spell, and you were impressed enough to babble a little.

"[...] again, thank you for doing this, I would have gone to Wanda but she's gone AWOL so I guess in the end she won't mind it." You counter with a forced laugh, your stomach clenching at the possibility that Wanda might forget about you entirely.

Strange - hands glistening as you do the spell - frown slightly.

"You didn't hear about Westview, did you, girl?" He asks and you blink in confusion.

Ten minutes later, there is a broken spell and you are fleeing with a cube at high speed.

The news that Wanda has lost control, kidnapped a town, and created a fake family made you realize the gravity of what you were doing.

But interrupting Strange's spell only made things worse. Over the next few hours, you fell into one of the greatest adventures you have ever experienced: alternate versions of yourself against versions of villains even worse than the ones you actually faced.

In the end, the green goblin, now not Harry but his father, took from you the only person you had left and confirmed that those who know your identity always end up in danger. With Aunt May's death, you asked Strange to complete the spell for good and after saying goodbye to your alternate selves, you hugged Stephen too, and he told you to go home. You asked him where Wanda was living.

Before stepping off  Manhattan, no one else knew your name anymore.

–//–

It took a few days since you arrived in Salem to find Wanda. This was because the city was quite different from New York, and didn't have as many buildings for you to hang around and look for her.

It reminded you of England at times, but you didn't like to think about Gwen.

You knew there must be a lot of witches there, because your spidey sense was on alert all the time, and it was hard to fall asleep. And it was just when you were considering giving up the search that you found her.

Or rather put, she did, and even saved your ass.

You had jumped on a roof, not because of your search but because you saw a colorful butterfly and photography was still a passion. But before you could click, something pulled you by the ankle until you ended up upside down, many feet off the ground.

"You picked the wrong house to rob, child." It was a brunette woman with a stern expression, and she was wearing an old purple blanket that surprised you a little. You noticed that what was keeping you pinned down was magic of the same color, and when you tried to struggle, your backpack fell open with your belongings on the floor, making you grunt angrily.

"I'm not a thief! Nor a child." You defended yourself, realizing that fighting the magic was useless. "I'm looking for someone."

"On the roof?" She questioned with disbelief and irony.

"No, I just went to take a picture..."

"Agatha, for the love of christ, what are you doing?" Shouted a female voice from downstairs that you knew well. You looked over, feeling your heart racing in your chest at seeing Wanda again - a few bags in her hands as if she had come from the market. Because of the tree branches in her field of vision, she was trying to move her head to the side to see you clearly. This Agatha woman just sighed impatiently.

"Looking after the house, just like you wanted." Grumbled the other, and suddenly, the magic on your ankle loosened. 

You fell hard against the branches, and the impact would have been much greater but scarlet sparks kept you from hitting the ground with force.

As soon as you felt the grass your hands, there was someone kneeling beside you.

"Y/N, how did you-when...?" Wanda started, clearly shocked to see you again.

You had prepared a speech, a story to try to break the spell little by little for Wanda. But apparently it didn't work for her, and it brought you such immediate relief that you were teary-eyed without realizing it.

"Hi." You gasped affected, and Wanda smiled, moving her hands to help you stand.

"Come, we should talk." She says gently, waving her fingers for your belongings to gather inside the bag and return to your hand. 

As you enter, the woman on the roof comes down and you can hear her and Wanda arguing before your friend appears again with a soft grimace.

"I swear, that old hag gets on my nerves." She complains as she approaches. "Can you believe she turned the delivery boy into a porcupine last week? Terrible."

You laughed half-heartedly, only to grunt in pain as you felt your face burn. Wanda frowned slightly in concern, and you could feel your blush when she suddenly approached.

"Let's take care of those cuts." She murmured, leading the way into a living room.

The whole setting was very beautiful - A Victorian manor house with dark wallpaper in an atmosphere charged with magic. You left your backpack on one of the sofas and sat down in an armchair while Wanda occupied a stool she brought in front of you.

You were very impressed that a medical kit simply appeared in her hands, but you didn't ask about it.

"I wasn't sure about coming." That was the first thing you confessed as she opened the small suitcase, an indecipherable expression on her face. "In fact, I wasn't even sure if you would know who I was."

Wanda chuckled dry, meeting your gaze for a second.

"Strange did a good job, but witches take precautions. I was protected by runes when it happened." She retorted, wetting alcohol on a cotton pad. "I was more impressed that you turned to him for help."

There was a bitterness in her voice, but you didn't flinch.

"You wouldn't do it." You say, and Wanda looks at you. "Aside from the fact that you've gone AWOL, I know you wouldn't. You wouldn't agree for me to be alone."

"You're not..." She starts, but bites her tongue. Wanda swallows dryly, and looks down at her hands. "I'm sorry about May. And Gwen too."

You straighten up in your chair.

"Aunt May died when I was a public enemy, so I wasn't bothered by the lack of a crowd at her memorial. But Gwen? Even the folks from Wakanda were there. But not you, Wanda." You say, and it is her turn to move uncomfortably in her seat. But you don't care. "Did I do...something wrong?" You ask unsurely, attracting her immediate attention. "I just, you shut me out, Wands. We were... We were so close. You used to be my best friend. But suddenly we grew distant, and the blip came. When you came back, I thought we could be friends again, but you disappeared. And I lost Gwen, and I thought that we would see each other at least at the memorial service, but you didn't even send a card. Then I find out that you've kidnapped a town e-arhg-"

Your statement turns into a grunt of pain when Wanda presses an alcohol directly against your cut cheek. You grumble, but she just sighs loudly.

"Sorry, you were...making me nervous." She retorts half embarrassed, swiping the cotton more lightly. "I'm really sorry, okay, for disappearing. I needed some time to absorb everything, and then I lost control. And you had a life, it wasn't your responsibility to deal with this. With me."

You raise a hand to her forearm, and Wanda swallows dryly as she stops her movements. "It's not about being a responsibility to someone else. I care about you. I wish I could have been there for you."

"You were." She confesses in a small voice, and you frown in confusion. Wanda cringes, retracting her hand and turning her gaze back to her own lap. "I bought a house in Westview before the blip, a new place with enough room for a writing room. And well lit for...photographs. Vis had just asked me to get engaged."

"Oh." You gasp in surprise, but Wanda gives you a sad smile.

"I said no." She clarifies by swallowing dryly. "He understood, of course. He said he could wait until I was ready, and I didn't tell him I might never be. I was going to sell the apartment, because I couldn't look at that fire escape without thinking I had ruined us."

You widened your eyes in surprise but didn't interrupt. Wanda began to pull the strands out of the cotton.

"The blip happened before I could move, or sell the apartment. Before I could talk to you." She continued affected. "And when I came back, I just realized I had missed my chance. After that coffee, I left. And when I got to Westview, and saw the wrecked grounds I just wished it had worked out. My magic did the rest."

You swallowed dryly, looking at her intently. "Stephen told me you had a family there."

Wanda shudders, nodding softly. You don't have to insist, because she speaks again. "Twins, Tommy and Billy. They were mine, my babies. And also there was...you."

"Wh-what?" you question with a confused laugh. 

Wanda raises her tear-filled eyes to you. "Just a version of you. One that I didn't kick out of my apartment, but asked to stay. One who kissed me and I made sure she knew how much I loved her back."

You blink in surprise and shock, and Wanda waits a moment of silence before studying the reactions on your face. She is surprised when you suddenly laugh low.

"So that kiss really happened." You murmur with your cheeks a little pink, a smile playing on your lips that makes Wanda's stomach do somersaults. "For years, I thought I had only dreamed it."

"I'm sorry." She says immediately, guilt burning in her throat. But you laugh softly. 

"It's all right." You assure, moving one of your hands to hers in your lap. "Now Westview, tell me more about it..." You asked, drawing patterns on the palm of her hand and making Wanda swallow dryly. "Were we like a family?"

Wanda nods, and you smile at her, leaning in until she loses her breath. But before you can break the distance, she pulls away.

"I can't..." She starts with her chest burning like the back of her eyes. "I'm not a good person anymore, Y/N. The things I did, my mistakes, I just... can't." She declares affected, but you just bring your other hand to hers, pulling it up to your face. 

"Heal me." You ask low, feeling her fingers on your cheek. Wanda frowns, but you smile, "Come on, I know you can do it."

She swallows dryly, but you feel the soft tingle and also her caresses on your cheek. Before Wanda can say it's done, you move her hand to your neck, fingers playing with the hair on your nape.

"Do you feel that? No goosebumps." You begin gently. "My spider sense still trusts you, and so do I. Nothing has changed."

Wanda is unsure of what to believe, shaking her head gently and closing her eyes. You move closer, and rest your forehead on hers.

"You don't need fantasies, Wanda. I'll be your real family if you want me by your side." You said to her, and Wanda sighed before breaking the distance.

The feel of her soft lips was as good as you remembered and get sighs from both of you. 

She kissed you hard, and then gently, trying to put all her apologies into action. You didn't think you needed to, but you understood. 

When you finally let go, breathing out of rhythm against each other's lips, Wanda continued with her hands on your face while yours were firmly on her waist.

"Let me take you out." You say against your lips, a smile forming as in hers. "A real date."

"I'd love to." She says before kissing you again.

Wanda still had what to tell you about. The darkhold in Agatha's basement was one of those things - And so were the whispers of universes where Gwen lived. - But she didn't want to talk about that now. And as far as she knew, what the eye cannot see, the heart cannot feel.

--//--